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rbfclassy · 4 months

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STILL IN LOVE! #7 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Toji stood in the empty living room, the light illuminating from the television as it played some random show that you were watching before he came. It’s been so long since the last time he was here, at least that’s what it felt like. Nothing really changed for the most part, still the same decor, the layout still the same. He couldn’t help but notice the set of fresh roses that sat on your dining room table, paired with a detailed glass vase. He already had his guesses on who gave them to you.

Toji looked over his shoulder towards the corridor that led to the bedrooms, you were still busy helping Naya wash up. He walked over to the table, fingertips gently touching the delicate petals. There was still regret and jealously that bubbled in Toji’s chest. When it came to you, he was selfish, never thought in a million years he’d lose you once he had you. That was his problem. With each longing look at the roses, it reminded him of when he did have you, the beginning of things. He used to buy you flowers just for the hell of it, buy you small trinkets he knew you’d like, addicted to your smile when he’d handed them to you. But like almost everything in this world, things fall apart.

Those moments turned into him coming home while you were in the kitchen, eating dinner with Naya and Megumi, not even glancing your way. Not a word to you or his kids all because of an argument you had before he left for work that morning. Of course he regrets it all now, when it’s too late for something to be done and said. It’s cliche, but it was true.

His eyes flickered towards the small card by the roses, his jaw clenched as he grabbed it, slowly opening it to read:

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman — Kento

“Hey.” The sound of your voice snapped Toji out of his thoughts, quickly placing the card down and facing you. “The kids are, uh, asleep.” You nodded.

“Should we talk here or?” Toji cleared his throat, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

“Bedroom should be fine.” As you walked down the corridor, Toji followed behind you. There was still that picture of you and the kids on the wall, the one that he took when you all went to the water park. It was a bittersweet moment, but he’s glad that you still had it up despite the memory that came with it.

He shut the bedroom door behind him as you stood in the middle of the room. “So, you wanted to talk about the kids and us?”

“Yeah, I just want us to find a level placement where we can co-parent healthily. You know…where we don’t fight and argue every time we talk to each other,” you explained with a slight chuckle. “I just want better communication. Like if you can’t or can take the kids, if you’ll be going to their school events or something.” You fiddled with your hands.

Toji stared at you even while you avoided eye content with him. He took notice you how you played with your hands too, something you always did when you were anxious, thinking about things. He could tell something else was on your mind. Something else was on his mind too.

“What I’m saying is, I just think we should strictly keep communication minimal. Just about our kids. What we do with our personal lives should be kept private unless it involves Naya and Megs somehow.” You inhaled, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Toji’s brows furrowed at your statement. “Isn’t that what we have been doing?” He questioned, leaning against your wall.

“Despite what you might think, no. And to be honest, I know that you know that not what we’ve doing, Toji,” you scoff.

“If this is about what’s been going on the last few months, I apologize,” he spoke.

“It’s,” you sigh, “it’s more than that. Ever since the divorce, we never acted divorced.”

“You mean how we were still sleeping together,” he bluntly said.

You rolled your eyes at how honest he was, but you should know by now that he was no different from when you first met him. “Yes,” you answered.

“We haven’t slept together in months—”

“And about the unresolved feelings that we still hold for each other. That needs to stop. All of it,” You interrupt.

Toji was at a loss for words, staring at you, and finally for the first time in this conversation, you locked eyes with him. “You’re really taking this guy seriously, huh?”

You sigh, plopping down on the edge of your bed. “He’s a good guy, Toji.”

“I never said he wasn’t.” He shrugged, standing up straight.

“Okay, but you’re acting weird about it. Why can’t you accept that I’ve moved on? You should do the same.” You stood upright. “Me and you,” you gestured between you and Toji, “it won’t work out.”

Toji knew in the back of his head that you were right, but to hear those words out loud felt like a knife to the heart. Both of you stood in silence. All kinds of thoughts were running through his head, every single of them screaming at him to say something, to try and get you to change your mind. He doesn’t want to argue or fight, not anymore, so he holds his thoughts and feelings back even if it does hurt.

Say something. Don’t. Say it. Just keep quiet. Tell her.

“I’ve tried to move on just so you know. I’ve really tried, y/n.” And there it goes. There goes the words spilling out of his mouth despite what may come next. He just needs you to hear him just this one last time. He doesn’t care if it doesn’t change a thing between you two, he needs you to know regardless. “Trying to get with different woman, having sex, drinking, pretending to be who I was before I met you. But where did I end up each time? Right back to you, right back in your bed, in your home, holding you, kissing you, regretting everything bad I’ve ever done to you, to our kids.”

“Toji—”

“We were together for 10 years, married for 8 . As soon as you told me you were pregnant with Megs, I knew right then I wanted to make you my wife, to build a bigger family with you, to do right by you and our kids. I can’t just throw all that away, all those memories. Even the bad ones. You changed me, made me want to be better. No other woman has done that but you.” Toji walked closer towards you. It felt like your feet were glued to the floor, incapable of moving.

“Then why did you treat me that way?” Your voice slightly broke as you held back tears. “Like you were beginning to hate me, to hate us.” The thought made you clench your eyes shut as a frown formed on your lips. You hated to remember. Your should began to shake as a sob racked through your body. “You don’t understand how that made me feel,” you whimpered.

Toji looked at you with soft eyes. “I never hated you or the kids, not a fucking second. That thought would never even cross my mind. Hate the woman who brought me the most beautiful thing life can bring you? Hate them? Even though they can be a pain in the ass,” he chuckled. You laughed along with him, nodding in agreement. “Look at me, mama.” Toji lifted your chin, wiping the tears off of your cheeks. “I can never hate you or our kids. Tell me that you understand that.”

“I understand.” You sniffled.

“I know the way I started treating you and our family towards the end is what caused everything to fall apart. I don’t know why I did what I did. Arguing with you over stupid shit, acting like a fucking asshole, not being there when I should’ve. You had every right to leave. It’s my own fault that I didn’t realize what I had before it was gone. I’ll live with that for the rest of my life. You’re an amazing woman, a beautiful person, a wonderful mother. You were everything I could ever ask for. I’m sorry for making you feel like you were any less than that.” He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly while you cried into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

For the first time in years, you and Toji had a conversation without it turning into a heated argument. It was like a huge weight lifted off of your shoulders, like you could finally take a deep breath of fresh air. Toji just held you while you cried it out, rubbing your back gently. Though it hurts, he’s glad he was able to tell you, to apologize. “Mama, you deserve to move on and be happy. It’ll hurt like hell for me, but that’s what I deserve for what I did. My karma. I’ll level with you, I’ll do what you want.”

You pulled away from him, teary eyes staring up into his. “You mean it?”

Without hesitation he replied, “of course.” If it wasn’t painfully obvious already, Toji was still in love with you. How could he not be? He’ll miss you, miss the times you spent together. He wishes he could make up for all those bad times, replace those memories with good ones.

“Thank you, Toji.” You softly smiled.

“Dont thank me. It’s the least I could do.” He held onto your hand, his warm touch lingering on your skin before he pulled it away. “I’ll see you around, y/n.” Before he said anything else, he needed to walk away. Opening your bedroom door, he disappeared from your sight down the hall. You bit down on your bottom lip, brows furrowed as you sat there and began to process everything that happened.

Toji sat in his car outside your house. “Fuck,” he sighed. It should be him. You and him. He should be buying you flowers, kissing your soft lips, holding you tight, making love to you, telling you he loves you. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as looked at your front door. In front of him, a familiar car pulled into your driveway. Toji sat and watched closely, noticing it was the man he caught a glimpse of in your house, your new boyfriend, Kento. As he walked up the steps, you opened the door for him before he knocked, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his lips with a smile. His hands were on your waist as he kissed you back, pulling you closer towards him.

Toji tore his eyes away from the sight in front of him, jaw clenched as he started his car. You were his karma and the woman he was in love with.

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tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @nnnancyr @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon @fisherman-boat @mochimoee @cheridrwyy @olanii1019 @vi-ola666 @emmaperdoswife @sucrose-fqn @rhyies-pieces @tojislittleprincesss @sashadonat

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tojisun · 7 months

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i just read your post about ghost and him having a daddy kink and i just 😩😩 like why does it fit him so well?? and for me personally, as a person who needs a lot of reassurance, his praises in ur post saying "walking around wanting his validation" hit SOOO close to home. thank you so much for your writing 🙏😔

AHH OMG RIGHT?

it’s this certain type of dominance that’s mixed with tenderness and softness—a loving and consensual imbalance of power born from the desire to nurture (simon) and be nurtured (reader).

i know he’s tough and rugged, but i think it’s because he’d find it so endearing to see you try to gain his attention that he, in return, mirrors it.

simon pushes your hair away from your face with a quiet chuckle. “s’right. y’r so good to me, aren’t you, lovie?”

he watches the way his words settle in you, how the drag of his voice slides down your spine. you go weak, knees knocking against each other from where you are crouched down beside him, head tipping low to avoid his gaze. your breath hitches too—god, aren’t you too adorable?

his hand slides down your forehead to cup your jaw, tipping your head up.

“y’feelin’ shy?”

a sound rumbles from the base of your throat, your eyes gaining that starry-eyed look that simon loves.

he smiles, soft. “my darling love, aren’t you?” his thumb swipes against the apple of your cheek. “all mine?”

“yes,” you reply, instant despite the breathlessness of your voice.

simon clicks his tongue softly. “‘yes’ what?”

you swallow, throat bobbing, before your tongue slips out to lick the bottom of your lips. simon zeroes on it, nose flaring in his own desire.

“yes, daddy.”

simon groans, pleased. “see? so perfect f’r daddy,” he croons, unable to stop himself, before he pitches forward to ghost a kiss on your temple.

it’s addicting, this new thing he shares with you.

(ext)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cw daddy kink #anon #ask #suns

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zayneslady · 7 months

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summary: it's been a while since the last time you saw him, but you missed him so terribly.

warnings: angst/comfort. Happy endings for the win *sobs* Pt. 2 of these scenarios

characters: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier x reader (separately)

a/n: I wanted to apologize. I got some comments saying that perhaps I wrote them a bit too ooc and that they wouldn't do something like this, so I was thinking maybe I should step out from writing these; I'm probably not understanding the characters very well. I'm really sorry! I had this one written already, so this is probably going to be the last post I make! Thank you for your support! In only a couple of days you guys were so amazing and loving, I'm super moved and I don't deserve you all at all ❤️

classification: scenarios

tag list: many of you asked me to tag you in the second part, I hope you guys like it! 💕

@biitchyberry @rosaryia @lcheerymotion @mo0nforme

ZAYNE ❄️

It's been four weeks since your argument with Zayne. The first days had been like hell. You had already tasted the honey of a relationship with the person you liked the most and loved the most. You wanted more of him, you needed more. You felt anxious without him, like you had become addicted to his kisses, his gentle touch, and the sweet words he whispered in your ears. You missed him more than you dared to admit.

The days passed slowly, each second seemed to last an eternity. When you got home you felt the emptiness of his presence and you felt like dying, but life continued on, and eventually you got used to being without him. The pain was still present, but more bearable as time kept its course.

You had stopped frequenting the places you knew he liked for fear of running into him. The dessert shop, the cafe near the hospital, the night stands near the library. You even avoided getting sick so you wouldn't have to go to the hospital. Your life was limited to going to work and coming straight home, with occasional visits to buy groceries.

You would never have thought that you would have to live a life again without Zayne and only because he didn't know how to separate his friendships from his romantic partner. So smart, but so stupid at the same time.

You sighed, returning to the present and the food you were making; it was too late when you realized it, but unconsciously you were making one of his favorite dishes. You weren't going to waste the food, so you just carried on trying not to think much about it.

“Now, where did I put–,” you stopped, surprised by the sudden knocking on your door. You frowned, you were not expecting anyone, but the knocking continued once more and you sighed, turned off the stove. “I'm coming.”

You regretted opening the door. Opening just a crack to see who it was, your heart fluttered in your chest as if there was a small caged bird inside it. Zayne was standing in front of you. He looked ridiculously tired, more than you'd ever seen him. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were deep, his skin did not look radiant and healthy as always and his eyes did not shine like emeralds.

Your hands were sweating and your insides were churning. "Are you okay?" You asked with a broken voice. Zayne shook his head and he fainted, but with a gasp, you quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and tried to keep him upright. “Zayne! Hey, what's happening?”

Zayne didn't answer you, and just leaned on you. Not knowing what to do, you dragged him inside and carefully guided him to your room. Once there, you laid him down on your bed, he looked weak.

“Zayne? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

He mumbled your name and your heart raced. “I'm… I am sorry,” he said as he finally passed out. You gasped, but soon heard the soft snores you were so used to.

Was he that exhausted? And what was he doing at your house? You frowned, fighting back the stinging sensation in your eyes as you tried to hold back some tears. He really always appeared to stir everything inside you. You had already accepted your life without him, but here he was. You sighed heavily, taking off Zayne's shoes and covering him with a blanket.

Your eyes couldn't help but admire him. Even though he was tired, he still looked as handsome as ever. It seemed like a dream, an illusion that would disappear at any moment. You wanted it to happen. You wanted him to disappear, but at the same time, you wanted to take him in your arms and kiss his face. But no, clearing your throat, you grabbed an extra blanket and left the room, closing the door behind you. It was better to let him rest so he could leave as soon as he got up.

The next morning you woke up to soft steps. Sitting up and whining a little after sleeping on the couch, you saw Zayne coming out from your bedroom. His hair was messy and he was rubbing one of his eyes like a little child, something warm spread across your chest and a smile tried to spread your lips, but you stopped it. He seemed more rested, the bags under his eyes had diminished considerably and his skin looked a little more alive.

“Zayne.”

He seemed a bit startled as he looked at you with slightly wide eyes. “Hello… I am sorry I fell asleep.”

You hummed, folding the blanket. “Haven't you been sleeping well?" You didn't want to sound worried, but you were.

“I haven't… I constantly have nightmares and I've been working over time… a lot more."

“Why?”

“Because I can't stop thinking about you,” he said and despair filled his eyes. “You have no idea how much I've missed you. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I have been working nonstop so I can have my mind occupied, but you're always there, in the back of my head.”

Don't cry. Don't cry!

“And what exactly do you want me to do about it, Zayne?” You said coldly, wanting to get over with this.

Zayne approached you and you couldn't move as he took your hands. “Please, please. Give me another chance. I swear. I swear in my life that I do not have feelings for her. I just… I was just stupid and took you for granted. Please, my love, please.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes and you cried even harder as Zayne grabbed your face. "N-No, don't touch me.”

“Please. How can I show you I truly want you? Do you want me to stop talking to her? I'll do it. I'll do it, so please. Just… please. I can't live without you.” His words sounded sincere.

His eyes were glassy and the pain on his face was evident, but your heart still hurt. How did you know that he really wouldn't leave you as a second option anymore? You couldn't even tell him to stop talking to Miss Hunter, you knew this was just Zayne's fault.

“Zayne… Zayne you're hurting me so much.”

“I know. I know I am and I am terribly sorry for this. I love you. I truly love you.”

You also loved him, so much.

“... If this ever happens again, Zayne… I won't forgive you another time. Remember that.”

His green eyes shone with happiness as he pulled you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, the tips of your fingers tingling as you felt his warmth, the tip of your nose digging into the crook of his neck, you breathed deeply, enjoying his scent.

“You're on trial, Zayne.”

Zayne chuckled and he nodded. “Yes. You won't regret me, I promise you.”

RAFAYEL 🐠

Life was boring without him. He was the spark and the spice in your days. With him, every day seemed like a small adventure, but now that you no longer saw him, the days seemed dark and lifeless. You didn't even remember how much time had passed since that day. One week? Three days? Two months? You weren't sure and, honestly, you tried not to think about it too much because, even though you missed him, the pang of pain in your heart almost made you gasp for air every single time you recalled every moment with him. It was almost as if his bodyguard had also been there, on every date with Rafayel, for all of your conversations were about her.

He was full of praise for her. He named each of her virtues and laughed affectionately at her defects. He didn't accept anyone claiming that they were better than her or stronger, because his precious bodyguard was the strongest and the bestest. Just thinking about it made you feel tears filling your eyes. You didn't want to remember any of it, but as you held your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial button, you couldn't stop thinking about how miserable Rafayel made you feel, even when he also made you feel like the most loved person in the world.

When he didn't have his mouth full of his wonderful bodyguard, Rafayel showered you with affection. His kisses, his hugs, and his caresses all felt full of love and tenderness. His beautiful eyes looked at you sweetly, as if you were the most precious thing that ever existed on earth. He liked to tease you and make you laugh and he always said that you were like a muse for all his paintings: The sparkle in your eyes, the color of your hair, the texture of your skin, the curves of your body, everything was inspiration.

How could he be so cruel and loving all at the same time? Poor bodyguard, you even didn't like her although she hadn't done anything wrong, as far as you knew.

Sighing, you finally tapped on the green button and your heart raced faster and faster at every beep coming from the other side of the line. Would he answer you? Was he… with her? Was he busy with one of his paintings? What if-

His voice calling your name surprised you, making you jump. “I’m here! Hi!” he sounded out of breath and your cheeks blushed. “Hmm, h-how are you d-doing?”

“Rafayel…,” you took a deep breath. “I… have some clothes at your place. Could I stop by later to get them?”

“YES! I… I mean… yes. I'll- I'll be here all day. You can stop by at any time you want.”

“... Right. Then, see you there, Rafayel.”

You let out a long sigh after hanging up. You had forgotten how wonderful his voice was and the way he pronounced your name. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You were going to see him, you were really going to come again, but you shouldn't be excited. What if he and his bodyguard were dating? The thought made your stomach twist and you decided it was best to leave immediately. The quicker you finish this, the better.

As always, the door was open, but you didn't immediately enter, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing against your ribcage. You didn't want to see him.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pushed the door open and you were greeted with that aroma that you had missed so much. The smell of acrylic paint, the sea and Rafayel's scent. You couldn't help but take a long breath- this exquisite smell felt like home. Your eyes watered a little, but you tried to stay calm as you walked deeper into the spacious house.

“R-Rafayel? Are you here? "You heard a gasp from the room and in a second, Rafayel appeared in front of you. Ah, he looked as wonderful and beautiful as always. His gorgeous eyes were wide, looking you up and down as his mouth stretched into a shy smile. You wanted to hug him. “The door… was open so I just- I'm sorry.”

“No! That's okay! I… I left it open for you!”

You nodded. “I see… do you mind if I just…”

“No, go ahead, please.” You excuse yourself as you made your way to his room, as you passed by him you felt your legs tremble and you gasped in surprise when he suddenly took your hand.

“Rafayel, what-

“Please, forgive me,” he begged, his eyebrows furrowed in a painful expression. “I was absolutely wrong, you were so right. I was stupid and careless and hurt you so badly.”

“Rafayel… I just came for my clothing, let me g-

“Please!” He hugged you and you went stiff. “Please, please,” he sobbed in your ear.

“Are you crying?”

He nodded. “I can't live another second without you. I can't paint anymore. I feel like a piece of me has been taken away, I live half and barely. I really, really do not have feelings for my bodyguard. You're the only one I can think about.”

“Then why-

“I just… I was just stupid, I didn't mean anything to hurt you, I swear! When I said I missed her, what I wanted to say is that I wanted to train with her, I would never make you train, that's too dangerous,” he started to explain in a rush. “When I told you about the candies, it's because she gave me some amazing chocolate I wanted to gift you and then-

“Rafayel-

“Please. Just this once, I swear,” he said, finally showing his reddened face, tears streaming down his face. You gulped, reaching up to clean his tears away and he whined. “I wasn't there to wipe your tears, I am so sorry.”

That made you burst into tears. That's right, you really wanted him to wipe your tears. He gently cupped your cheeks and his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching all of those tears falling from your pretty eyes.

“You can break up with me if I do something like that again! But please… just this once. I love you so much. I really do.”

You looked at him, His eyes were still wet and some tears were still falling down his cheeks. Maybe…

“Just this once, Rafayel… I won't forgive anything like this ever again.” He beamed and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, but you covered his mouth, frowning slightly. “I'm still mad at you.”

He blinked and gently smiled behind your hand before taking it in his. “Of course, I'll prove myself to you, beautiful creation.”

XAVIER ⭐

You couldn't sleep. It's been two weeks since you last slept properly. Two weeks ago you were in Xavier's arms and he held you lovingly, whispering words of comfort in your ears. You weren't sure why, but being around Xavier always made you feel relaxed, a little sleepy, but never bored. You loved spending lazy times with him, taking naps and frolicking in bed, giggling like fools and giving each other soft, tender kisses.

With his warmth and love it was not difficult to fall asleep at night, he always wanted to sleep so that tranquility that emanated from him was enough to relax you and make you sleep throughout the whole night. In the mornings you felt rejuvenated and full of life and seeing his sleepy smile was like living in a dream.

You felt your bottom lip quiver into a pout. You missed him too much. You never thought he would behave that way. Had you never really been important to him? If he wanted to be with his partner so much, why had he even agreed to go out with you in the first place?

“Agh! I hate you Xavier!” You cried, banging your fists against the table in your kitchen. “Why did you let me fall in love with you?” Maybe you really had gone crazy, talking to the table like that.

There was no time for this. It was almost dark and you still needed to go buy some groceries for your dinner. You struggled out of your house, so tired and dragging your feet. You wanted to sleep... with Xavier. You wanted to feel his warmth. But... what if he now wrapped his partner in his arms? Your cheeks turned red and, trying to avoid thinking about it, you hurried to catch the bus.

You found a seat near the door and next to a young man, there weren't as many people as you imagined and as the bus started to go you felt your eyes heavy. Maybe... you could sleep for a few minutes? The store wasn't far away, so just a few minutes... just a couple of minutes…

You heard your name being called between clouds. From far away. Over and over and over. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

“Hmm?” You opened your eyes and gasped, How long had it been?! Where were you? And... why was your head...? Had you fallen asleep on someone's shoulder?! "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" You said, raising your head only to find that the young man next to you... "Xavier?!"

The hunter blinked, his eyes avoided yours for a second before looking directly at you and nodding a small greeting. Had he been there next to you the whole time? You could barely notice what was happening around you with how tired you were, but, strangely, you felt very good. It seemed like he really was the cure for all your ills. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. Xavier looked at you confused, tilting his head to the side like a little bird.

“I'm sorry, Xavier. I didn't know you were there,” you jumped, “but wait, where are we?!” Checking outside the window, you could tell you were far away from the store now.

“We're almost at my place,” he said gently and the alarms in your head set off. His partner... didn't she live in the apartment below?! Oh no. Before, you had no problem staying at Xavier's house, but... if they were really in a relationship…

“I gotta go,” you said, seeing the next bus station. It was already dark outside.

“Where are you going?” Xavier asked and you frowned.

“What do you mean? Back home. I only wanted to go to the store, but I fell asleep as you could see… Now it's even dark. Thankfully it's not raining,” you were babbling to yourself as you waited to arrive at the next stop, when you finally did, you got up. “Sorry about that, Xavier. Goodnight.”

"Now... The next bus…," you mumbled checking the bus's schedule. "10 minutes? Lucky~"

“I'll go with you.”

You couldn't help but squeal and jump when you heard his voice right behind you. Turning around, you saw him standing there, as tall as he was and as bright as the stars.

“I'll take you home. It's dark. Something could happen.”

You rolled your eyes. "What could happen, I'm only going home.”

“Some witnesses have seen wanderers in the area. I can't let you go alone."

You sat on the bench, arms crossed, Xavier sitting next to you. "Ah, that's true. I'm not strong like your... Forget it." Your cheeks turned red. Very well! Keep opening your big mouth! Xavier didn't say anything, but you could feel his gaze on you and the blush on your cheeks traveled to the tips of your ears.

Silence reigned between you. You could feel him, his warmth, he was so close to you, you could reach out and touch his knee. Your eyes felt heavy, you wanted to hug him.

“I am sorry,” he suddenly said and you thought you imagined it but then he repeated it. “I am sorry for what I said the other day.” You turned to look at him and flinched when he saw his bright eyes looking sad and red. “I don't know what I was thinking. Talking like that in front of my girlfriend. Acting like I didn't want to have been there with you, but you're the only person I want close to me. I don't like nor have feelings for my coworker, I only want and need you.”

He gently wiped a tear from your rosy cheek, his touch was electrifying.

“You haven't been sleeping well.” You didn't answer, but he continued. “I haven't been able to sleep either. I keep recalling that day and seeing your crying face, I can't stand it… please forgive me.”

He took your hands and you finally looked up at him, your eyes widening as you saw a small tear fall down his cheek.

“I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I still beg you, I beg you to give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. Something like this will never happen again. I was an idiot."

You frowned, “you were an idiot. Do you have any idea how you made me feel? It's hard to believe you love me.”

He nodded, listening to you carefully. “I know it's hard to believe, but please let me prove it to you, let me show you how much I love you, please. I can't be without you anymore, my star. I need you, otherwise I'll go crazy. Please.”

You sobbed and Xavier gently pulled you close to him. Wrapping you between his warm arms. You tried to pull away, but he didn't let you and soon you melted in his embrace, crying into his work clothes.

“Please, give me another chance.”

You nodded softly. Just one more chance. “There's not gonna be a second time,” you warned between sobs and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

“I won't need them. I will treasure you as the most valuable thing that you are. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #love & deepsace x reader #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace rafayel #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #zayneslady #*scenarios

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rottiens · 20 days

Text

contents. satoru gojō x fem reader, alcohol consumption, all the characters are adults, secret relationship au.

"How many shots would you have to take to kiss Gojo?" Nanami asks the group as his eyes are on you, you laugh against the bottle stumbling against your lips.

The question isn't out of place since you just answered that you would kiss Principal Yaga after taking at least about five shots out of respect and how nervous he makes you feel. However everyone knows what your relationship with Satoru is like, so the question catches you off guard.

"Zero." Shoko answers for you and Satoru looks at her over the sunglasses, clearly displeased. "There's not enough alcohol in the world to make her kiss him."

"Oh, no, no, wait... she's really thinking about it!" Haibara points an accusing finger at you and you can't help but laugh again, you feel the skin on your cheeks stretch and burn from the silly grin you can't wipe off. Satoru's stalking gaze feels like a torch on the back of your neck.

You pretend to think it humming out loud, though the answer is clear to you. "At least about ten," you say, tilting the bottle up to your mouth, getting the group around the campfire to laugh filling the beach with echoes.

"Heeey." Satoru pinches your forearm which makes you look at him, a tiny pout is later replaced by a couple of wrinkles on his forehead.

"What?" you ask softly and have to force your hands to stay still and not reach out to touch him.

"Ten shots? That's almost an alcoholic coma."

"There are actually many things that could influence an ethyl coma," Kento clarifies.

"You can't explain much about alcohol to a person who doesn't drink." Your numb brain is sure that was Hibara, too lazy to check since your eyes were still on Satoru who was still indignantly staring at you.

"What?" you repeat almost in a whisper.

"Nothing." His attention returns to the campfire, the heat from the fire burns his pink cheeks and the bright flame dances on his face making his eyes look much lighter mimicking the shade of the sea at midday.

Satoru pushes his glasses up on top of the bridge of his nose, hiding his eyes completely.

"I'm going to get more beer," you say looking at the group, then tug on Satoru's arm to help him up, who does so reluctantly. "Can you help me with the box?"

He walks beside you without adding anything else, shaking the sand out of his red shorts and pushing his hair out of his face.

"Are you really upset?" The answer was obvious but you had to make sure, Satoru walks silently, sinking his feet aggressively into the sand until you reach the parking lot where your toes have never felt more grateful to touch solid ground. "Hey?" you tug on his hand and stop your steps, standing still in front of him.

"Hhm?"

"Are you really upset?"

"No," Satoru assures, avoiding your eyes.

"Satoru, did you really want me to tell them that I would kiss you sober? Without a drop of alcohol?"

You see him licking his lips battling with himself on whether to stay annoyed with you or understand your point.

"I know."

"I thought we were going to go slow..."

"I know!" His hands cradle your cheeks tenderly, bringing his face up to meet yours to leave a kiss on your lips. "I was dying to touch you."

"You know we didn't go public for you." You remind him, letting him rest his forehead on top of yours. The artificial taste of the strawberry beer he drank earlier sneaks into your mouth in little gasps.

"Let's do it when we get back to the city," Satoru murmurs, brushing his lips over yours. "I think they know anyway." Oh, you're sure they know. You're both too obvious but you didn't want to push your boyfriend when he told you he wasn't ready to admit in front of everyone to officially having a partner. "But I don't like having to hold your hand on the sly or sneak out of meetings so I can kiss you and God, I'm just addicted to that watermelon gloss you use."

You laugh giving him fleeting little kisses, taking advantage of the position to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you.

"Just admit you're addicted to me, Satoru."

"Maybe I am..." He says in that tone that indicates danger. That voice that tells you you're not going back to the group you had run away from.

Satoru squeezes your waist possessively, his fingers trace on your sun-toasted skin and you moan between his half-opened lips the moment he asks for your tongue silently, his nose stumbling against yours.

"We should get back..." you say in a whisper, remembering this fact more to yourself than to him.

"We can disappear for ten minutes..." Pause. His lips move to your collarbone and his warm breath tickles you. "Fifteen minutes..." Pause. Small bites along your jaw take him to your neck. "Twenty..." His tongue dances over your salty skin, gently licking what he can reach and has to physically force himself not to suck.

"It's never ten minutes..." you say between a choked moan, tugging at his strands sweetly until he's looking at you again. Dark sunglasses hide his eyes from you but his mouth is at your disposal, half open, red and appetizing and the tiny freckles that bathe his nose make your stomach knot.

He grunts, as if battling with himself to understand that you are right. Satoru brings his face to the line of your neck and sighs heavily, leaving one last kiss to pull away from you against his will.

"Let's go back then," he says resignedly. And he had never wanted the weekend to pass as quickly as he wanted it to now, being the impatient person he is, he didn't want to wait to have your hand entwined with his and fill his chest with raw pride where he could finally admit in front of everyone that you were his.

#wr #wr.gojo #scr.gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #cw alcohol #divider by adornedwithlight!

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eubybubble · 9 months

Text

slytherin boys after an argument

ft. Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Lorenzo

Theodore Nott

Realization hit him hard after a prolonged silence. The air felt thick, and he felt nauseous as he shifted his gaze from a small crack on the wall under his fist to your face. He just swallowed and left the room without a word.

He was terrified of himself, didn't he promise to never raise a hand on loved ones? Technically, he hadn’t, but it was too close. Thoughts flooded his mind as he rushed up the stairs in a desperate attempt to breathe fresh air. It wasn't surprising that he instinctively headed to the Astronomy Tower – your favorite place. Reaching the top, he stood there and retrieved the cigarette pack with trembling fingers. After hesitating, he lit one. Everything seemed to remind him of you. It was never that serious, you just wanted to help him.

Now, he felt like a total fool. Leaning against a wall and sliding down, he pondered over the the relationships. You were too sweet, he couldn't let you suffer near someone like him. With that, he set his mind on ignoring you and breaking up with you because "that'd be better for you." It seemed like you would only agree, he didn't consider any other possible answer.

In the next few days, he deliberately skipped meals and tried to ignore your questioning gaze in halls. However, you heard a slight cough from behind after the lunch.

"May we discuss something?"

"Well, if it isn't Theodore Nott! What—" he didn't let you finish.

"Let's break up." you froze, staring at him in disbelief.

"Nott, are you insane? Didn't you think to ask me?"

"I'm doing it right now."

"Really? It felt more like you just stated a fact and I can only accept it. It was really low of you to avoid me." Your eyes became shiny as tears started to accumulate involuntarily. Theodore noticed it, and despite the cold agenda he planned, he rushed towards you, wiping the tears.

"You wouldn't want to be with me," he mumbled.

"What? We could've talked! We've always talked about how important communication is, but how come we don't practice it? I know you, and I know myself; I wouldn't give up on our relationship that easily. And more than anything, I know that I want to be with you. Why would you do that to me?" you sobbed, clutching onto him as if you were afraid that if he left now, you would never see him again.

"Shush, principessa, I'm so sorry-" he didn't expect such a reaction from you. As you hid your crying face in his chest, his heartbeat only became faster. What an idiot he was for even thinking of such a thing. "I'm so sorry. For everything I've done and said. I'll work to be better for you," he rambled quietly. "Do you trust me? Are you ready to give me another try?" His voice cracked slightly as he asked the last question. You just nodded, and he chuckled at the sight. "Tesoro... I'm so sorry. I promise you it won't happen again." He gave you a forehead kiss, and he really meant it. Even though he didn't say anything about it, he decided to quit smoking. Yes, it won't be easy or a short process, but at least he found a far better addiction - you.

Tom Riddle

From the moment you saw Tom, you thought it could have worked out. At least, you hoped so. It all felt dumb. All those times when your friends told you to break up or said that he didn’t care about you - you refused to believe them. And now, it got you here when the most precious person told you were some troublesome trivia. In the past, you and Tom would at least talk during lunch or sit next to each other in Potions where he patiently helped you, but now, he skipped most lessons, and if he attended one, he’d sit alone. Everyone noticed it, and you became the target of their whispers and snickers. Some even went as far as mocking you in the halls.

“Well, if it isn’t the one Tom Riddle dumped. What, did he finally realize that you’re pathetic?” you tightened your hold on your books and tried to leave hurriedly until the blonde boy from the group shoved you into the wall. “Aren’t we talking to you? Why are you leaving so suddenly?”

It was a pretty loud encounter, so Tom, who was walking nearby, heard it and stopped in his tracks. To tell the truth, he didn’t even want to break up. He invented this silly excuse to protect you because he was afraid of his own actions. He hoped you’d be stubborn and come once again, but you didn’t. That’s when he knew he messed up, but his pride held him back from going to you. And now, someone was bullying his treasure.

But they underestimated your power. You didn’t want it to escalate into violence, but they started it first. With a swift movement of the wand, you threw them off with a big blast. Not even bothering to look behind, you paced up and bumped into someone.

“Oh.” As he put his hands on your shoulders to steady you, he eyed the unconscious group behind. “Using a spell of such power at this hour?” he mumbled nervously.

“Care to explain why you care? Get off, Riddle.” You tried to shove him away, but his grip was strong.

“What’s going on with you? I didn’t even do anything to make you that mad.” You nearly choked at these words.

“Tom.” He hesitated. “Do you think I’m that dumb to fall for your words? Move out of the way.” But he just stood there without a change.

"Don’t leave. I was just... I was afraid I’d hurt you," he whispered as he clutched onto you. "I was afraid of my own plans, of my own thoughts. But please, promise me never to leave, even if I change. I won’t hurt you, just stay by my side. I never expected to fall in love..I had everything planned ahead in a neat way, but you came in like a surprise. Yet, here we are, and it's you. There's no turning back now" You never saw Tom being so vulnerable, and you could do only nod. You cupped his face.

"Hey, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll be here," you softly reassured him, not noticing how easily he drew you right back.

Mattheo Riddle

You had hard time absorbing everything Mattheo said. It was already dark outside, but you didn’t care to turn on the light or illuminate the wand with “Lumos”. You sat on the bed and went through the box with a glossy eyes. You couldn’t believe that he saved every gift, every letter, note - even those that you gave him before dating. Quiet sobs escaped your chest upon finding the promise ring at the very top. Why does it feel so awful when you believed you made the right choice?

As if on cue, your roommate entered the dorm room. "Hey, look what everyone’s talking about in school- oh, are you okay?" She turned on the lights and noticed your teary face. Quickly wiping everything away, you pretended to be busy, gathering everything back into the box. "Yeah, my eyes are sore from reading in the dark," a lame excuse, "what were you gonna tell?"

She knew you disliked having your privacy intruded upon. "So, three students were caught for an outrageous duel and a series of mobbings in Hogsmeade! Surprisingly, it was two Gryffindor students and one Hufflepuff. That fits into the ‘don't judge a book by its cover' narrative. I wonder when the stereotypes about the houses will end. Remember when everyone didn't doubt that it was Slytherin?" she sighed.

As if it weren't enough of a heartbreak, you discovered that everything you had ever suspected Mattheo of was all filthy lies and gossip. Suddenly, you felt dizzy.

You didn’t care about decency or dignity as you rushed to Mattheo’s dorm. He, too, was struggling. Despite everything, he regretted speaking harshly and leaving the memory box. What if you never returned and tossed it away? His heart clenched at the thought.

Feeling too irritated and unwilling to join others in the common room for a card game, he was all alone for now. In futile attempts to fall asleep, he heard a light knock on the door.

"Who’s that?" he groaned, too lazy to open the door.

"Hey, can we talk?" His muscles tensed upon hearing that familiar voice. Rushing to the door, he unlocked it immediately. "Oh, hi," you blushed and stopped mid-sentence, staring at his torso. He glanced down, realizing he forgot to put his shirt on.

"Shit. Sorry, one second," he shut the door in embarrassment and put on a random sweater. "What do you want?" he still held a grudge against you.

"I wanna... apologize. You have every right to shut the door, but I wanted to tell you that our relationship isn’t a joke to me. I love everything about you. I was just so stupid to believe all the gossips floating around Hogwarts, but that doesn’t matter. I came here to tell you how insane you make me feel. I mean, these days when I tried to collect my thoughts and was avoiding you, I was thinking of you non-stop. Mattheo, I’d fight the world to be by your side." As you rambled on and on, his gaze softened, and he pulled you by the waist.

"That’s my girl. I felt terrible when you acted the way you acted, but I hope it won’t be the same in the future?... I also apologize for saying unnecessary things."

"That’s okay, you had every right to be mad. What about I’ll order the food and we’ll watch a movie?"

“Gladly” he was grinning now. It wasn't necessary to tell him that you were also ordering a new broomstick, the perfect one for the perfect boy to make it up. It was the least you could do now. As you scrolled through the list of new films, Mattheo coughed.

"So, uh, can I get my box back, please? You didn’t go through it, right?" a light blush covered his face.

“Actually, I did, Matty. I didn’t know you are so sweet” he groaned at this comment “but I’ll return it to you. Sure.”

Lorenzo Berkshire

The moment Lorenzo received his numerology exam back, he couldn't believe the mark he saw. 70, satisfactory. Many would pray for such a grade, but he had studied and sacrificed too much for this.

As he walked to breakfast, he scanned the Great Hall but couldn't spot you. The previous day's argument flared up in his memory, and he wrinkled his nose as he sat down to eat. As predicted, a white owl sat on his shoulder, delivering a letter with Berkshire's family logo.

He run his eyes over the text. “disgrace..wasting time..bad influence” and blah blah blah. Nothing’s new, except the threat that ordered him not to come home until he got back on the track academically. He's been following his parents' wishes for too long; he was too afraid to ruin the perfect son image that he completely lost hold of his priorities.

Oh, how he wished to be in your embrace now, to listen to your soothing voice and nuzzle up to you in the dark. But he ruined it single-handedly.

He stood up and went to lessons, scratching an apology note for you in the meantime. At DADA, the only class you two took together, he tried to sit next to you and apologize, but that place was taken by a Hufflepuff girl, to which he could only frown. Throughout the lesson, you felt his gaze on you, but never once did you turn your head back at him. If he needed a break that much, he could get one. After all, you got tired of constantly begging him to relax and spend time with you and felt like a total fool.

After the lessons ended, you were the first one to leave the classroom, but he's not an idiot either. You felt someone gently taking hold of your wrists and pushing you into the empty classroom. The door closed behind.

"Can we talk and communicate like grown-ups?" Lorenzo inquired.

"You said everything you wanted last time. I have to go, Hermione's waiting for me in the library," you blatantly lied.

"Oh, really? Because when I last talked to Hermione, she told me she would be with Ron," he calmly stated, stepping closer. "I don't really remember things I've said, but-" You didn't let him finish.

“Enzo, you needed break and I’m giving it to you” his jaws tightened in frustration at your unwavering stance. “You told me I was a burden and you know what? I think you were right because lately, that’s what I felt like in relationships with you. It’s like I’m begging you to spend time with me. Maybe it's best to return to being friends” you mumbled. But he just shook his head, moving nearer once more until he stood right in front of you.

"I'm sorry I made you feel this way. It's not an excuse for my behavior, but I've been stressing about..something," he sighed. "You don't deserve to be treated like that, but trust me, I'll be better." He gently reached out for your arm. "I need just another chance. The only one. I've already written back to my parents, and I hope they will get off my back. I've also told them about us," his voice got quieter. "I hope you won't mind." Your breath hitched. He had always been postponing this, even if you wished for it. There was a minute of silence and apprehension before he wrapped you in a hug. "I hope you can forgive me, sweetheart. How about we go to the cafe you like this weekend?" he mumbled, peppering your face with kisses.

a/n: I apologize if it's not the way you imagined, but hey, I tried my best. Also, I think they were super careful and sweet afterwards!

taglist: @lilanxietysstuff @nopedefe @marina468

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 5 months

Text

say you can't sleep, m | myg

... baby, I know that's that me – espresso by sabrina carpenter

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Snapshots of a love story centered around coffee and soft skin, heh, isn't that just so suga sweet? Mmmm, I guess so.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; fluff they're cute as fuck; smut (fem reader, fingering + f-receiving oral at work, gasp, doggy, m-receiving oral in a bedroom, whew, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – Yoongi's POV except final scene in your POV

“You don’t like coffee.”

She handed him the iced Americano with an enigmatic expression.

“But I like you.”

Then she walked away.

“Oh? I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He looked up from his lonesome table, fully intending to tell the person to fuck off. It was too late and too dark and too restless for him to even think about socializing. He lifted his head and found himself speechless for several seconds. An enigmatic expression paired with a tight black dress. He took another sip of his whiskey to avoid making the pause awkward.

He caught a whiff of a heavy, rich, coffee-scented perfume.

Then he shrugged.

“Can’t sleep.”

She smiled.

“You know her?”

She sat a few tables away, wrapped in a tight black dress. A soft white knitted cardigan draped over her shoulders. Demure with a hint of sex. He recognized those black high heels with gunmetal buckles. They had been tossed carelessly by his door last night. He watched her hands dance in the air with her conversation. The man sitting in front of her seemed mildly interested. Black t-shirt, silver bracelets, faded blue jeans. She rolled her eyes and her lunch companion looked similarly annoyed, shaking his head of straight, long black hair. The waiter went by their table, carrying the handheld kiosk.

She tapped her credit card, already prepared.

The young man whipped his hands out in a what-the-fuck motion.

She shrugged.

Her black velvet purse was tucked in her lap, right above her plush thighs that had been wrapped around his neck last night.

“Better than you do,” he replied, and didn’t elaborate.

“I didn’t know you knew him.”

She gave him a confused look.

“Why wouldn’t I know my younger brother?”

Oh.

She handed him the iced Americano with a sly smile.

“But I’ll let him know that you were jealous.”

Fuck.

“You don’t have to.”

She took his hand and wrapped it around the cold drink, leaving him with a handful of condensation and consideration.

“I want to.”

She was about to let go but his other hand shot up, enclosing the back of hers. He watched her almost hide the way her breath caught. Her eyes shifted. Those parted lips were picture perfect softness that inspired wet dreams. Her skin was even more perfect up close and in the light. A tick of her eyebrow. He didn’t back down.

“Meet me in front of the café at seven tonight.”

She didn’t hesitate.

“Okay.”

Date after date, she wore the same perfume and the same enigmatic smile. Night after night, he stared up at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck he was doing. Day after day, he looked forward to her occasional treat in the form of ice coffee. He admired her audacity to let everyone talk. Both of them deflected the topic when anyone asked. No sense in entertaining unsolicited opinions.

In bed, he closed his eyes and breathed in, remembering the way her soft skin smelled against him.

He was addicted to her perfume.

Then again, he already had a coffee problem so maybe it was all in his head.

From across the room, she smiled at him.

He acknowledged her with a nod, sticking his hands in his pockets so they wouldn’t shake.

The eye contact lingered for a moment linger before she turned and walked out the door.

After about ten minutes, he made up some excuse and left too.

He kissed the inside of her thigh and looked up.

Her knuckle was against her teeth, biting down lightly, calmly giving him an expression of apprehension and boldness. He cocked his head. She shrugged with one shoulder. He bunched her skirt around her waist.

And stared into her eyes as he licked upwards.

Hot, heavy, and with possessiveness.

She melted against the wall. Lashes fluttering, shivering under him, no sound. Probably because of where they were. The mischief in her eyes glimmered. Her perfect lips formed words both silent and damning.

Keep going.

To be perfectly clear he did not give a fuck about rules, but also he liked his job and didn’t want to get himself fired. Yet. He skimmed his lips over her soft skin and figured that at least it would be a cool story, letting his fingers sink into her shapely hips, toying with the hem of her panties with his thumbs. Her free hand wandered down to hold up her skirt. Helpful. He closed his eyes. Tongue, lips, teeth travelling up in a zig-zag from thigh to thigh. Her coffee-scented perfume faded as the scent of sweet sex prevailed, his index finger skimming over the heat, following the forbidden line.

Absolute silence.

But beneath his lips, her body was singing. Vibrating with pleasure. Pressing her shoulder blades against the wall, rolling her hips towards him. He opened his eyes to see hers under lidded lashes. Slid his finger under, down, the back of his nail drenched, and he pulled it aside, watching her sensual mouth form his name.

He closed his lips around the top and sank two fingers into her pussy.

Fuck, she tasted so good.

The shudder took over him before he could stop it. Delightful shivers as he watched her watch him when he cupped his tongue around her clit. Circling it gently. Coaxing. Slow and steady, admiring the way her slick walls closed in around his fingers. Thrusting deeper. He spread his knees more, wincing as he felt his hardening erection strain against even his loose jeans. She kept her hips still, melting into his momentum, looking hot as hell fully dressed with his mouth as her new accessory. He spied the curl of her pink tongue against the side of her lips. His fingers involuntarily twitched, digging his blunt nails into her thigh. Tongue against nerves. The steady climb to the heavenly high. Quiet breathing becoming labored, his cock aching at the image and taste of sweet evidence.

Her arousal dripping down his throat.

She came to his tongue, pressing the crown of her head against the wall and silently gasping to the ceiling.

No one found out.

At least, Human Resources didn’t let him know they did.

He spent a little more time checking out his outfit before leaving his apartment. Bomber jacket, loose shirt, slightly less torn jeans, and his nicest bag, a black leather messenger. Debated on a beanie. Decided against it and took a moment to tie his hair back into a low ponytail. The front pieces were too short to be tied back. He adjusted them in the mirror and out the door he went. Subway and then a short walk. He visited the usual spot, a café by the office, and she was already in line. The cashier seemed to have taken a liking to her, trying to keep her for a few lines of conversation. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care, courteously stepping out of line after she paid and waiting to the side for her order.

He contemplated walking up to her.

This was the first time he had been this early. He was not and never would be a morning person. A lot of the time he had to settle for the shitty coffee from the machine in the break room. He preferred an expert’s hand though, so he did his best to drag himself out of bed to get in line. Big chains had apps to order-and-go, but this was a mom-and-pop store that didn’t have the money for such technology. Honestly, now he was glad about that. A rare occurrence of the universe being on his side.

His gaze must have remained for too long because she looked up from her phone and her head turned, spotting him immediately.

He let his eyes linger when hers did.

A glimmer in her eye. Must be the morning sun. She raised her hand and beckoned him to her.

He stepped out of line and walked up to her.

“I can buy my own coffee, you know.”

The café smelled like stale morning coffee and yet somehow she smelled even better.

“Just let me do this one thing for you, hm?” she smiled.

He didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he stood next to her and stuck his hands in his pockets. He noticed several people looking her way but they all quickly reoriented their wandering eyes. It had to have something to do with the way her long black skirt clung to her hips or her courage of wearing a maroon faux fur cropped jacket out in public. Or maybe it was the way her tight black turtleneck clung to her chest.

“You can go on ahead. I’ll drop off the drink for you.”

He half-considered it. Maybe even take a moment to make it obvious for everyone.

Still, he didn’t want to leave.

“I’m still waking up,” he offered as his reply.

They weren’t looking at each other but he was highly aware of her presence next to him. He didn’t sense any discomfort. The café was getting packed. She scooted closer to him as a couple more people moved into the waiting section.

The barista called out her name.

She glided up to the counter. He watched her go, pit-a-pat beating in his chest. Admired every line, the way her hips swayed, the way stray rays of the sunrise made her hair glow. Watched her turn around in slow-motion mental cinema, raising her head, their eyes connecting, the corner of her lips rising when she saw him waiting for her.

She held out the iced Americano.

“Careful, someone might think we’re an item.”

He reached out and let his fingers graze her wrist.

“I think someone already does.”

He was talking about himself but he didn’t miss the pleasure in her eyes when the exchange happened.

She was a menace every time.

“I’m going to make sure you’ll need caffeine tomorrow,” she mused out loud.

He raised an eyebrow.

“And how are you going to do that?”

He somewhat regretted asking that.

The room was pitch black.

“You still up?”

The presence beside him shifted, facing him, but he wouldn’t be able to see even if he opened his eyes. He didn’t need to though. He knew the way the blanket draped over her arm, exposing the corner of her shoulder, her hair cascading over her neck covered in his invisible kisses and light bites. Her arm over her breasts as she adjusted her hand just under the pillow. The blanket dipped a bit further down the bed, then rose up sharply at her hips.

“Sorry if I seem restless,” she whispered. “I have insomnia sometimes.”

He had offered before, but she hadn’t accepted until tonight. He wasn’t sure what had made her change her mind.

“Me too,” he confessed. “I take a long time to fall asleep.”

Her voice was feathery and soft. Not pitched to act younger or be more appealing. True to who she was and where she was in her life. Her coffee-scented perfume reflected that as well. Dark and smokey and acidic. Full-bodied in every sense of the word. He heard amusement in her soothing voice as she spoke.

“That’s a very polite way of admitting that you’re nervous of the pretty girl in your bed being a closeted psychopath and smothering you in your sleep before taking all of your valuables and skipping town.”

He smiled.

“Don’t worry, I know all pretty girls are psychopaths.”

She laughed. “Won’t fall for my tricks then, hm?”

“I might if you actually tried some of yours on me.”

There was a pause in her breathing. A single flutter of butterfly wings, so slight he almost thought he imagined it.

“You think so?”

He kept telling himself he wouldn’t, but deep down he knew he would.

“Yeah,” he murmured, noncommittal.

There was a pungent silence.

Then he felt her warmth closer. Closer. Warm exhale tickling his shoulder. Her hand settled on his arm. A whirlwind of thoughts. He had always thought, oh, it would be annoying. It would be heedlessly complicated. It would die out quick. And, ultimately, it would be fleeting and unfulfilling.

Like a shooting star during a meteor shower.

“You’re something else, Min Yoongi.”

Meaningless was it was, he found himself making a wish as the weight of sleep swept him away.

Of course, he was scared.

Of course, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it or show it. People were fickle, complicated creatures that spent lifetimes trying to explain themselves to no avail. He was one of them. He had long ago accepted that he was part of the problem. Likewise, he accepted that he would never understand. He wasn’t about to encroach on the millennia of human philosophy and twist his brain trying to make sense of it all.

“I should leave.”

Best he could do was write some songs about it.

“Sit,” he commanded in his most inviting tone.

Better not to think about it too much.

He looked away from the stove for a moment to see the unsure shift of her eyes and the hesitation of her parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” She lifted her gaze.

He held it, but only for a second.

Any longer would have been too telling.

He turned back to the pan and replied with, “You cannot possibly think I’m that rude to kick you out before breakfast. Sit.”

Thinking about it too much would ruin it, anyway. It would make it less true. Convoluted. Muddled by past experiences and endless doubts. He refused to let that happen. He lifted the frying pan, tipping the fried egg onto the freshly made white rice. Set the pan down. Turned around with the bowl in hand, setting it on the counter in front of the barstool next to a small plate of his mother’s kimchi. He saw her hesitate once more. Maybe it was his imagination, or was that a flush of pink at the tops of her cheeks? He pulled out a drawer and added a pair of chopsticks by the bowl. Didn’t take his eyes off her movements.

She reached out and pulled out the barstool, sliding onto the brown leather.

Bowed her head to hide her smile.

“Thanks for the food.”

Yoongi silently let out the breath he had been holding.

Just before she walked out his door, she leaned in and kissed him.

She drew back.

“See you.”

He stepped forward and pulled her into a longer kiss.

“See you,” he breathed, missing her already.

He couldn’t look at he when she smiled.

Even as the corner of his mouth lifted and his teeth sank into the side of his lower lip.

Dark, smokey, acidic.

Her perfume was so familiar now. It settled into his palette, embellishing the dreamlike image. His hands rested on her waist, fingertips drumming against soft skin. Her fingers danced up his sternum and her lips hovered by his. Breath to breath. Her other palm on his chest. Hips to hips. The moment lingered. Almost to the point of discomfort, and then she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

He wondered if he tasted like coffee.

The kiss melted into him. Warmth rushed all over his body. He should be used to it and yet he fell back under her spell. Under her kisses over his face and neck, under her insistent touch. He dug his nails into her back. She matched him, but harder, rougher, her tongue slipping into his moaning mouth as she scratched him up. Perhaps it was a perverted satisfaction but he rather enjoyed knowing that his pale skin would be marred in pink lines of passion. He didn’t want to be precious about it.

She straddled him and pressed her panties into his erection.

He griped her waist and kissed her harder.

He enjoyed it when she slipped her arm in his as they walked side by side. He enjoyed watching passerby glance at them with envy, especially when her head leaned against his shoulder. He enjoyed it when she tugged him to her and caught his lips possessively. He didn’t know when he stopped hiding the smile he had when around her. He didn’t know when he stopped wanting to be alone in his free time and instead wanted to fill it with her coffee-scented perfume. He used to work late all the time because there was nothing better to do, but lately there was a better reason to ditch his responsibilities.

It was careless but such was life.

Heh.

He loved to watch her face, and yet there was something about watching her back arch and her fingers curl into the sheets. Something about his hands gripping her hips and driving himself deeper. Something about the image of her ass and thighs bouncing with each forceful smack of body-to-body contact. Just something about it. Tight, wet, hot, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, dragging his nails down her spine, feeling her match his pace. He enjoyed fucking as much as the next guy. This was simply different.

Something about her, maybe.

She threw her head back, her visceral sounds music to his ears, pleasure incarnate, and he could feel each wave threaten to drag him under, into the permanent honeymoon haze. He let it take him, gasping, surrendering, wanting it again already. She moaned with him, clutching his pillows into a jumbled mess.

Fuck, so good.

One shared look.

To be honest, he was proud of the number of used condoms that piled up.

“A candle?”

She lifted the heavy glass lid and inhaled. Her eyes widened, sparkling with recognition and delight.

He stated the obvious. “It’s coffee-scented.”

“I love the scent of coffee,” she murmured. He already knew that. “You remember.”

He half-smiled. “Isn’t that your excuse for always getting me one? You like the scent but you don’t drink it?” He couldn’t help but tease.

She gave him a mischievous smirk. “Trying to throw me off your scent? It won’t work.”

He sure as fuck hoped it didn’t. “I’m trying to convince you to stop buying those expensive iced Americanos for me. I’m trying to cut down for my health.”

She frowned. But he shook his head, trying to dissipate any misunderstanding.

“Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t come up with the idea. My doctor did.”

Her gaze narrowed, unconvinced.

He shoved his hands back into his pockets so they would stop shaking. There was no bag or awkward gift wrapping for him to hold on to. It wasn’t his style, but he somewhat regretted it now. He tiled his head, relaxing his face despite the thunder within his ribcage.

“What?”

She replaced the lid of the candle. Her thumb ran across the embossed characters on the paper label. Capitalism had burned a hole in his wallet. He didn’t mind though. She held it close to her chest.

“This is an expensive brand. I’ve seen it at higher end stores.”

He was delighted that she knew. The cheaper brands had smelled far too fake and far too sweet. He wanted that rich bitterness. Dark and smokey and acidic. A scent that reminded him of them. She watched him carefully. He shrugged.

“You get what you pay for.” Chuckled, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Fair, once I considered the culmination of the price of all those coffees. And, anyway, I only wanted you to know that you don’t have to pay a price for my attention. You’ve had it all this time.”

Her eyes widened a bit.

He shifted his weight, about to walk past.

At the last second, he turned his head, pausing to whisper in her ear.

“But don’t think about buying anyone else a coffee, alright?”

Before he could make his escape, her eyes were already locked onto his, her lips centimeters from his.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Min Yoongi.”

“What?”

She grinned. Their hands interlocked. Holding tight, even though his back was flat against her bed. Her body hovered over his. She lowered, slowly. He sucked in a breath as he felt her hard nipples brush against his chest.

“You like that?” she teased.

He stared into her eyes, melting into her mischief. “Yeah.”

She pressed her soft breasts flush against him, rubbing back and forth. He closed his eyes, shuddering, her name in his throat. His other hand migrated to her waist and he squeezed her, wanting her to know his desire. Her coffee-scented perfume stuck to his skin, bitter and sweet and addictive, a guilty pleasure he didn’t feel guilty about.

His doctor had advised him to cut back on coffee and alcohol, his other guilty pleasures, so naturally he found himself tangled up in another.

Heh.

His fingers slid up, up, tangling in her hair, pulling her face to his. There was a split second where their eye lines connected under their lashes, and he froze up. She stared back. Centimeters of trembling air between their lips. His entire body could barely contain the want and yet. It wasn’t the first time they had been this close. Far from it.

But this was the first time Yoongi realized he would move heaven and earth for those eyes.

He squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back and closed the distance between them, her eyelids falling. His too, and he realized there was sex and then there was this. This, the goosebumps that erupted over his skin when her fingertips glided down his arm. This, the chain of kisses leaving him in a daze. This, the delicate shock of her lips travelling down his chest. This, the pit-a-pat and pang of something so dirty being so pure. Her mouth enveloped him and coated his cock with a thin layer of velvety saliva. Back and forth, so soft, just right, building a lovely desperation that he savored. Tighter, and he gasped, marveling at the suffocating gentleness that made him painfully hard. Pace so steady it was nearly maddening, his fingers twisting in the sheets, and he sucked in another breath, the air saturated with her scent, hitting the apex and at the same time falling so fully that he couldn’t hide it anymore.

She kept him hard, knowing the precise amount of softness and insistence. He didn’t need to say anything. She thought about him the same way he thought about her. Her hands fanned over his hips, extending the pleasure of orgasm. His exhale a shudder. Their eyes connected again.

He beckoned her back up, breathlessly.

She obeyed. Skin to skin. His fingertips touched her chin, conducting her movement.

He could taste himself in their kiss.

“You like that?” he whispered to her lips.

She smiled against his. “Yeah.”

One torn-open condom wrapper later, and there was nothing better than her legs wrapping around his waist once he was completely inside. Shivering breath, his fingertips grazing over her collarbones, and he was well aware of his own black hair tangled over his eyes. She looked up at with admiration and satisfaction, tightening around him.

“You should come over to mine tomorrow night. Spend the weekend with me,” he found himself saying.

Her expression amused. “Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your landlord.”

He pushed his hair back, cleaning his vision.

“Let that be my problem.”

Her eyes sparkled.

“I’ll think about it.”

Seemed like she already had though.

Slow and tense, leaning down. Deeper. Her legs sliding up, tighter. Each breath drawn in hotter, keeping their electric eye contact, and he lifted one of his hands to wrap around her wrist. She watched him, intrigued. He thrust downwards and she squeezed him all around, meeting his pace, their eyes closing, succumbing to the honeymoon haze in harmony, their wanton sounds melding together like sugar into coffee. Harder. Rougher. Her name falling from his lips and his from hers. His grip on her wrist slipped.

Their fingers interlocked.

He kept the high coming, over and over.

The room was pitch black.

“Can’t sleep?”

He stretched his arm over his head. His body was still running hot.

“Don’t want to.”

She hummed. “Why’s that?”

He should sleep but that would tear him out of this dream. “Pretty girl giving me insomnia.”

“Damn. Wish I could help,” she chuckled, curling up against his side.

He hadn’t known it when she walked into his life, light glimmering off her hair and adorned with a sweet smile. Day by day, catching himself watching her walk past. He admired the confident way she held herself, the assuredness in her stride, the sharpness of her wit. Then one day, the morning after a particularly restless night, she had walked right up to him, an iced Americano in hand. She had known his preference. Could have been observation or asking around. Or both. Didn’t matter, as it was clear she took the time and noticed his lingering gaze.

“Why me?”

Her soft cheek against his shoulder.

“You know why.”

He did but he still wanted to make sure. “You weren’t scared?”

She took a moment to recall. “Worst thing you can say is no. You didn’t.”

He turned his head. She scooted up, and now they were looking at each other in the darkness. He couldn’t see shit, but he had already memorized her face in moments, in snapshots of closeness, into dreams he couldn’t help but believe in. She brought her face closer and their lips found each other with him meeting her halfway.

He pulled her closer.

Yoongi had always believed, oh, love would be annoying. Love would be heedlessly complicated. Love would die out quick and, ultimately, be fleeting and unfulfilling, like a shooting star during a meteor shower. And maybe it was all that.

But he could also be wrong.

Kiss after kiss, falling stars in the darkness, and he couldn’t help but believe in wishes.

Maybe he was just too far gone. Too under her spell to be logical anymore. Her leg slid over his hip, their bodies seamlessly against each other and her hand cradled his face, breathing in his air. Her perfume still lingered, dark and smokey and reminding him of how this love started, or perhaps it had rubbed off onto his skin in their passion. He didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it.

“Don’t think about anyone else, alright?” she whispered.

His hand settled around her waist.

His lips touched her nose. Lightly, endearingly. Didn’t she know? She must. Maybe she wanted to hear it from his lips. He didn’t know the romantic thing to say. He was terrible at that. Always was, always would be. Then again, she had already given him the answer.

He smiled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

“Iced Americano. The largest size, please.”

The barista smiled sheepishly. “Busy day?”

You tilted your head, a stray strand of hair curling around your curved lips.

“My darling needs it.”

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#yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut

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19catsncounting · 21 days

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I Got Really Into Anti/Proship Discourse And Read +30 Academic Studies - My Findings

(It’s a Yapfest but the whole post is a very long essay and study on morality and fiction and children’s safety and rape culture with a fuckton of freely accessible academic articles and resources on the subject, and I want to talk to other people about it. For a shorter abstract with all the articles and more easily ignored yapping, see my shiny new Carrd:)

It’s been a little shocking lately to have certain discussions with some parts of fandom. I spoke about shipping/harassment and how that contributes to the death of fandom on TikTok assuming that younger folks are just really, really intense about preventing sexual violence, but the more I saw the words “morally wrong” and “disgusting” and “addiction,” the more I thought about this guy-

That’s Jerry Falwell, and I fucking hate this dead guy. You see, Jerry Falwell was a preacher who hated porn, feminism, and homosexuality. And I'm seeing his rhetoric and reworked quotes a lot.

Jerry would say stuff like:

“Pornography hurts anyone who reads it - garbage in, garbage out.”

“Someone must not be afraid to say ‘moral perversion is wrong.’ If we do not act now, homosexuals will ‘own’ America!”

Jerry wanted people to believe that it’s possible to see so much sexual content that it warps your sexuality, because he was gay and wanted to think that was due to thinking about gay sex too much. Jerry did not have a lot of evidence to prove that homosexuality was harmful, so he relied heavily on how “morally distasteful” it seemed to be to suburban Americans.

I spent the majority of my teen years arguing against Jerry’s rhetoric for the right to live as a lesbian online, and I never thought I’d see morality rhetoric in people I’m otherwise very politically aligned with. And I definitely never thought fandom of all things, in all its beautiful subversive glory, would seriously start advocating for censorship, anti-porn, and to consume fanwork with moral purity.

So, I’d like to have a deeper discussion on it, both here on Tumblr and on TikTok, but that does mean checking a few things at the door:

Personal feelings decide your personal life. What you feel is valid for you, not anyone else.

In general, things that do not cause direct and undeniable harm should not be broadly prohibited just because they’re weird or distasteful to the majority of folks. Ex. Loitering does not cause harm and is a tool of systemic oppression.

The discussion of “fictional CSEM” is the most inflammatory fork of this and it is often used to derail these kinds of conversations. This is all I will say on it - the legal status of explicit visual depictions of minors is muddy. In the US, there is just one dude in Utah who pled guilty for possessing explicit lolicon he bought by mail order without also possessing CSEM with real children, and explicit writing about fictional minors has been settled as protected free speech. Dedicated organizations from the NCMEC to Chris Hansen have asked that fictional content is not reported as CSAM as it is not actionable and clogs up finite resources. 90% of NCMEC reports were not actionable last year. There are studies suggesting that virtual CSEM or other non-victim alternatives could reduce actual child harm, but there is need for further research.

We’re all in agreement that untagged NSFW is not cool, and kids deserve kid-only sections of the internet. People who are triggered by or dislike problematic content deserve to be able to not see it. 👍

(I’ve seen the argument that blocking tags/people should not be required - sorry, PTSD still requires that you manage your triggers, up to and including swearing off platforms just as I have sworn off bars/soap brands/etc to avoid my triggers.)

I have found a lot of accessible and free articles and studies that I will link throughout so that we can discuss the fact-based reasoning, in an effort to have a civil conversation.

(Also because we are not flat earthers, we are Fandom, and if we’re going to be annoying little shitheels in an “Um Actually” contest, we’re going to have the sources to back it up.)

Minors and Explicit Material

I’m not supporting minors engaging with explicit material. I have such little interest in the subject that I’m not even going to bring in articles, but you can feel free to. I personally engaged with explicit material as a preteen of my own free will and did not find it to be harmful, and the majority of people throughout human history have been exposed to explicit material at an early age with varying degrees of harm. There are undeniable legal and harm-driven differences between a 12 year old girl looking at Hustler on her own, a 14 year old boy being sent nudes from a grown woman, and a 6 year old viewing PornHub. (And I think the guardians of that 6 year old should be charged with grooming just like the woman, tbh.)

Personal Disclaimer

I’m an adult survivor of CSA and incest. I’m a happily married adult. I don’t personally like lolicon/shotacon/kodocon. I don’t like kids. I don’t like teens. I’m personally not attracted to underage fictional characters. I have family, the idea of fucking any of them makes me want to throw up and die, so I don’t write or read RPF of my family.

I am really, really fucking intense about preventing sexual violence, supporting survivors, and fandom, which is where this all comes from.

I read and love problematic fiction - my favorites are ASOIAF, Lolita, and VC Andrews. The most “problematic” thing I’ve personally written are Lucifer/Michael fics from Supernatural back in 2012. They are “brothers” in CW Christ, not blood. They do not have any blood.

Gen Z and Online Grooming

In 2002, a survey of 1500 minors from 10-17 found that 4% had been solicited for sexual purposes by an adult online.

In 2023, that number increased to 20%.

While the linked 2023 Thorn report suggests that the vast majority of these inappropriate interactions happened on platforms that allow for interpersonal communication, which by and large minors were greatly discouraged from and had less access to in the early 2000’s, a trauma-informed approach does not allow for blame to fall on the children. The guardians of those children have monumentally failed to restrict and educate before giving children the means to access those platforms.

It is my uncited but personal opinion that the increased rate of grooming, as well as an increased interest in combating rape culture, has led to well-intentioned individuals to become digital vigilantes attacking those who they hold responsible for their traumatic experiences in a search for catharsis and justice denied for themselves as well as a desire to make the internet safer for other children, whom they are increasingly aware are entering online spaces unsupervised at distressingly young ages.

Is harassment and bullying bad for perpetrators of it?

Before we get into how ship-related hate campaigns do not affect predation or combat rape culture, we should acknowledge that it’s actually pretty harmful for the people who cyberbully. Not just in the legal/social consequences, but people who participate in cyberbullying and cyberhate campaigns have higher rates of depression, estrangement from their parents, self-effacing habits, social anxiety, lower empathy, and so forth.

One study suggests that the treatment and prohibitive for cyberbullying, which contributes to a culture of cyberhate and a lower likelihood to report or confront other incidents of harassment or toxicity online, can be combatted with media competency to increase empathy along with other important life skills.

Some Common Pro-Censorship Myths

“Pornography is Addictive/Consumption of Pornography Leads to Increasingly Hardcore Imagery And Ultimately Real-World Violence” - The American Psychological Association does not recognize Porn Addiction as real and the DSM-5 does not classify it as an addiction. Additionally, many methods used in articles claiming that porn is addictive or causes users to seek out more hardcore material were flawed or biased. There is actually some evidence that compulsive porn use, the closest you can get to a porn addiction diagnosis, is associated with shame and the user’s belief that pornography is morally wrong, which sex-negative attitudes encourage.

“Jaws caused shark culling” - That's unfortunately a simplification that ignores a LOT of surrounding context. WW2’s modern naval battles with an increase of ship sinkings and thus contact with sharks prompted the invention and use of shark repellant by aviators and sailors in the 1940’s. The most deadly and famous shark attack of all time was the USS Indianapolis sinking in 1945, which led to 12-150 deaths. The 1974 book Jaws by Peter Benchley, which was the entire basis of the movie, was inspired by One Fucking Dude who started shark hunting tours and overall seemed to have a really immaculate vibe. The interstate highways that finished in the 1950’s increased beach tourism in the 60’s and onwards, inspiring the American surf culture, further increasing the cultural desire to purge sharks for the new swath of beachgoers and their fondness for using surfboards which make them look like seals to sharks. Additionally, 1975’s Jaws inspired a huge desire for education about sharks, and the relationship between problematic media and education will be the core of this yapperoni pizza.

“The Slendermen Killings/Other Fiction Inspired Crimes” - The ACLU states that “There is no evidence that fiction has ever driven a sane person to violence.” Inspired crimes are indeed no less tragic, and thankfully rare, but people who suffer from inability to discern reality and fiction do not necessarily need fiction to commit violence. The “Son of Sam” murder spree was not inspired by a book or movie, but instead Berkowitz’ auditory hallucinations.

“Violent videogames DO cause violence” - After a great deal of funding and study, the American Psychological Association has concluded that teens and younger may have increased feelings of aggression and not necessarily physically violent outbursts as a direct effect, but older teens and young adults do not encounter statistically meaningful rates of aggression.

“Your brain can’t tell the difference between fiction and reality” - Factually incorrect. Children as young as 5 years old can tell the difference, and they can even be more suspicious about “facts” that come from sources they know also host fiction, such as TV shows.

“This stuff shouldn’t be online because it can be used to groom a child” - While I could not find specific statistics on how often pornography is used to desensitize child victims, nor how often that is specifically used in online grooming, and especially not how much of that pornography is made from fictional characters - out of a mixed group of convicted offenders with adult and child victims, 55% of offenders used pornography to manipulate their victim. I would never refute that explicit fanart or fanfic could be used to desensitize a child, but that is by far not the only tool (asking about sexual experiences/identity, making jokes, etc is extremely common grooming behavior), and there is no evidence to suggest that it is used to a statistically significant degree. In my own anecdotal experience, normal vanilla legal pornography is used with far greater prevalence, and there isn’t a similar movement to shame its production for that possibility. Nor should the creators of any material, pornographic or otherwise, share blame in the actions of a predator.

The Fiction Affects Reality Carrd

(No hate to the person who made it, in fact I give props to them for trying to find unbiased sources, I just want to point out that their interpretations of their articles are kinda flawed and one of their studies is a kind of a perfect example on small and culturally biased samples.)

Reading Fiction Impacts Aggressive Behavior - (I cannot access the full study but this article is the primary source used in the Carrd and it goes into detail) - A study showed that 67 university students were more annoyed with a loud buzzer after reading a short story about a physical fight between roommates compared to a story with nonviolent revenge. However, this study was conducted at Brigham Young University, the same campus where we got a whole video series of hot ethical takes like “I’d rather shoot a kitten than drink coffee,” so uh. Yeah. Kind of a prime example on why it’s important to have large and culturally varied sampling. (Another BYU study with 137 BYU students being odd about moral ambiguity in fiction, just because I’m starting to add Dr. Sarah M. Coyne to my list of “Sarah’s That I Dislike.”)

Your Brain on Fiction - a NYT article that describes Theory of the Mind and how fMRIs captured how readers’ minds would light up centers of muscle control when reading sentences like “Peter kicked.” The quote “The brain, it seems, does not make much of a distinction between reading about an experience and encountering it in real life; in each case, the same neurological regions are stimulated” is speaking of motor functions. Emotional centers of the brain were not included in the study.

How Fiction Changes Your World - a Boston Globe article that actually describes how people who read more fiction are more empathetic and tend to believe in a just world. It does not state that the empathy a reader feels for fictional characters extends to corrupting their moral compass. In fact, there’s such a thing as a “fictive license” to explore taboo themes more thoroughly because it is not real - 123 participants were interviewed after watching two actors play the part of detective and murderer being interviewed, and participants who were told it was fake had more varied and inquisitive responses.

The Social Impact of Books - Actually reuses the previous study about the just world, so point remains. Empathy is understanding, not mirroring.

Is Problematic Fiction Good for Survivors of Trauma?

It absolutely depends on the individual.

Writing expressively about traumatic experiences has been shown to be effective to reduce depression, or more effective in reducing dysphoria and anxiety than talking to fellow survivors, and Written Exposure Therapy is broadly prescribed to survivors of trauma, with one study centering on car crash survivors finding that WET resolved their PTSD symptoms and continued to be effective after a year.

In this study, which sadly is not available online but it is too important to leave out completely, survivors of CSA were given fictional novels about CSA and in closely reading and analyzing those stories, were able to understand their own experiences and were indeed drawn to write about their own experiences as well.

Engaging in problematic fiction, like all fiction, allows for consent as well as control. If at any point a survivor does not feel in control or wishes to stop, they can at that instant. They can even rewrite their narratives and take control of their story in fictionalizing and changing the account. They can even try to understand what their abuser felt through fiction, which is helpful considering that the vast majority of survivors had a relationship that had been positive and even loving with their abusers at times.

Is Problematic Fiction Good for Everyone Else?

It again depends on the individual.

Antis might be a little right that most people don't want to read problematic stories. In a study exploring whether fiction can corrode morals, 83% of study participants stated that they would prefer not to read a short story justifying baby murder if they had the choice, even if that exploration isn’t inherently harmful.

This very small sample study of 13 participants discussed how young women interpreted sexual themes in writing, including explicit fanfiction, and how that was beneficial and informative to explore sexual desire and examine healthy and unhealthy relationships in a safe and controlled environment.

This meta-analysis further discusses how problematic and sexual themes in YA literature are useful to illustrate what sexual violence looks like, and begin educational conversations through those depictions to break down harmful myths such as “if she didn’t scream, she wanted it.”

Empowered by the “Fictive License” previously cited, problematic fiction can be beneficial for anyone who desires and is capable of consuming and analyzing it.

This study analyzing abusive aspects of three films - Beauty and the Beast, Twilight, and 50 Shades of Gray - concluded that these abusive themes should be discussed to increase recognition and awareness, not censored based on those problematic themes.

This study of 53 women were asked to read different versions of fictional intimate partner violence flags, or “toxic behavior” like surveillance, control, etc. In every version of the story, whether the female or male had those behaviors either courting or committed, the women recognized the behavior as wrong.

Another study that reading allows for the moral laboratory to explore morality in fiction without decisive impact to corroding moral permissibility.

Is There Ever Any Point Where Fictional Interests Definitively Speak On Someone’s Morality?

In short - not really. Loving Jason Vorhees does not put you at risk of murdering campers as long as you know he’s not real. Writing Wincest does not mean you look forward to family reunions, as long as you know incest isn’t okay in the real world. The real world, where real people are harmed, is where you find the measure of someone’s character.

This Psychology Today article is the best source I could find for quotes from a fantastic book ‘Who's Been Sleeping in Your Head? The Secret World of Sexual Fantasies’ by Brett Kahr regarding taboo sexual fantasies and how they are not only common, but not inherently harmful.

There are people who enjoy problematic media in an entirely nonsexual sense, of course. I myself don’t get off on problematic media - I think it’s just interesting to explore different experiences, and I think that can be revolutionary.

Additionally, fantasies in general have almost always been in the vein of “things you don’t want to really happen in reality.” In a study of 351 asexuals, more than half reported that they fantasize about having sex, but that doesn’t mean that they actually want to. You can fantasize about dating Billie Eilish - it doesn’t mean that you’d be happy dealing with celebrity culture.

(I personally fantasize about the internet being just for adults, but in practice I think that would be incredibly harmful and isolating for at-risk youth and LGBTQ teens) Fantasies always pluck out only the bits of reality that you want to engage with.

If You Get Off On Fictional Kids, You’re Attracted to Something About Them Being Kids

Not inherently, surprisingly. Wearing a schoolgirl uniform is a pretty common roleplay, and it’s not meant to “fool” the participants into thinking they’re indulging in pedophilia. There’s a wealth of emotional and sexual nuance in that specific kink - innocence and virginity play, tilted power dynamics in ‘scolding’ the uniform wearer for dress code violations, even the concept of a sexually provocative “teenager” can be played with without shame, because the world of fetish and fantasy is separated from condonable actions for the vast, vast majority of adults. (The only study I could find on this is this small study of 100 white guys found on Facebook, which itself states it is not definitive, found that while there might be correlation between attraction to children and interest in schoolgirl uniforms, there is no proof of causation. AKA, the rectangular pedophile might indeed like square schoolgirl uniforms, but not everyone - in fact, the majority at nearly 60% in this very survey - that likes square schoolgirl uniforms is a rectangular pedophile.)

Even sexual age play between adults is not indicative of pedophilia because it exists in a setting between two adults who fully understand that the mechanics are completely fake, allowing the power dynamics that would be abusive between an adult and child to be ethically explored.

I don’t have an official-looking study to cite, but I have asked people who like content about underage fictional characters why they do so. Overwhelmingly, a lot of the ones who like underage age gaps like the fantasy of an older and more experienced character taking a younger one under their wing, to have the opportunity to commit violent and blatantly objectifying harm and yet try to create what inevitably does not truly pass as consent, but seems near enough to the characters. Some think that the characters themselves have an interesting chemistry. Some read underage fic and still imagine the characters as adults. Some like to explore the feelings of shame that the older character must feel and how they mentally compartmentalize to go forward with the relationship, and how the younger character found themself in that vulnerable position - which is exploring a harmful situation through fiction to understand how it could play out in real life.

People who like fictional incest like exploring the shameful components of that taboo relationship - and I have seen a lot of works that compare how bad incest could be to other harms, like the Gravecest route in a game with parental cannibalism. And then there are folks who like analyzing the codependency of having one person fulfill every social need - family, friend, lover, AKA Wincest.

What makes a predator if it’s not just sexual attraction?

90% of CSA survivors know their abuser, discrediting the still-entirely-too-popular Stranger Danger myth. And shockingly, only 50% of abusers are pedophiles.

That means 50% of child molesters do not have sexual interest in children because they are children, but they victimized children because they are more accessible in lieu of adult partners, with increased rates of incest.

While I could not find a specific study on the relation between dehumanization/objectification of child victims and child molesters (and if you find one, please send it to me!), this study speaks on dehumanization as a precursor to adult sexual violence.

This study, conducted on convicted child molesters in prison, showed that child molesters tend to fantasize about children while in a negative mood, further contributing to the theory that child victims are dehumanized prior to abuse.

This very small sample study found that in a mixed sample of internet only/contact crime/mixed offenders, offenders who had contact with children had lower rates of fantasizing about children.

In short, half the time a child predator is someone who wants to offend against a child regardless of attraction to the fact they are a child.

Resources To Recognize Grooming/Abuse Victims/Predators

I would absolutely be remiss to not share my collection of resources to help detect signs of abuse/grooming as well as warning signs of a predator who may be targeting elders/women/teens/children:

Darkness 2 Light is a fantastic resource overall, this page details stages and signs of grooming.

RAINN personally helped me through my PTSD journey, and this article detailing the signs of sexual trauma in teenagers is thorough and non-judgemental

Signs of abuse as well as warning signs of predation that does not use gendered language nor play into the Stranger Danger myth.

Education, not Censorship

I think a lot of the energy against taboo content among young people still has a lot to do with the desire to end rape culture. The tools that we Millennial Tumblrinas gave you Gen Z kids were snatches of leftist theory, deplatforming, and voting with your dollar, so it’s reasonable to think that removing taboo content like pedophilia, incest, rape fights rape culture.

It doesn’t.

Rape culture is fought by education. Comprehensive sex education, education about consent. Talking about what consent looks like, what sex can look like, what rape can look like.

There should be more taboo content to talk about these things, to show all the shades it can look like. From a violent noncon to fics that aren’t even tagged as dubcon yet still are in shades that are hard to suss out, we should talk about it.

A Non-Empirical Example Of Good Media Analysis and Education to Combat Rape Culture

Let’s use the example of Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen’s relationship in House of the Dragon. Canonically, in both the book and the show, they have a romantic relationship that appears for the most part to be positive (the show being more contentious but I dedicated an aside to Sarah Hess and our beef at the bottom of my Carrd, but feel free to ask how I feel about writing producers with any variation of the name ‘Sarah’) despite an age gap, a sexual relationship that began while Rhaenyra was a minor, and incest - the problematic hat trick if you will.

I have seen anti-Daemyra shippers condemn Daemyra shippers for “Condoning grooming, age gaps, pedophilia, and incest.” Which is not just a broad, inaccurate, and harmful statement, it’s not at all constructive or educational analysis.

It would actually be beneficial to say “Daemon is grooming Rhaenyra as a teenager with gifts, devoted attention that takes advantage of her isolation and vulnerability, frequent nonsexual touches, the extreme desensitization to sexuality in the brothel visit,” etc etc. And even so, it is not useful to say that people cannot still ship the relationship and acknowledge those aspects. They might want to further explore the issues of consent in their dynamic in fiction, they may want to strip away some of them with narrative reimagining. Some might want to ignore the taboos completely and indulge in the fantasy entirely, and some might find the actors hot as hell - AKA, anyone who watches the show.

It’s honestly a little similar to me in how Jerry Falwell would tell his followers not to watch or read or take in any media that dealt with homosexuality unless it was condemning it - even Will & Grace was on Jerry’s shitlist. And so, Jerry’s followers missed out on a lot of media that could have educated them about queerness, could have humanized queer people for them - and that did not make queers go away. Just like ignoring or shutting out media about incest, rape, and other forms of sexual violence doesn’t make those things go away - it just tends to make you less informed, and little less capable of empathy towards people affected by those subjects.

So let’s stop shaming those that ship a complicated dynamic - you get less fanworks exploring those taboos, and less of a discussion overall. You shut down the morality lab of fiction, and to be honest, it’s wet sock behavior.

Some FanFiction Specific Studies

How dubcon fanfiction can flesh out the intricacies and messiness of realistic consent

A review of darkfic written about Harry Potter in 2005 (which, I will personally attest has never been outdone in how profoundly taboo those works were)

Interviews with 11 Self Insert writers who wrote on themes of rape, abuse, control, yandere, etc, and how that was beneficial to some who had experienced sexual violence themselves

Conclusion:

H…holy shit, you actually read all of that?? Congrats dude! That is a lot of time and brain power to dedicate to any one thing!

By the way, I am not really gifted at writing articles or any of that junk, and I tried to make my hyperlexic ass a little more accessible instead of bringing out all the $5 words. I am literally just an autistic who took a couple technical writing classes over a decade ago and really wanted to sort out my thoughts and try to have a platform for discussion. Also, I am really fucking bad at math. I failed two different college level statistics classes twice each. Gun to my head, I could not tell you what a standard deviation is, which is why I worked entirely with the percentages.

And I do want to have a discussion! I would in fact like to not report anyone for sending me gore or death threats or any of that stuff! I don’t think everyone will agree with me, in fact I’m certain that you could find studies that contradict some of mine, and I’d love to discuss them!

I’m sure it will still be tempting to throw around accusations of pedophilia because sometimes, confronting your previously held beliefs is incredibly uncomfortable. If you could not do that, that would be great? I don’t like being compared to someone who profoundly abused me just because I have a different opinion on how to combat rape culture and empower survivors. If you can do that, I’ll do my absolute best to be cheerful and welcoming and respectful as well. 😁

PS - I’m also not really going to be phased if you call me weird or cringe - I am. Always have been. Cringe, weirdness, and autism have made me do and capable of doing some fantastically neat and impressive stuff. But if you try to say something like “proshippers are too yucky and weird to be in fandom” - I’m going to have to refer you to your similarity to Kate Sanders of Lizzy McGuire fame, you “prEpz >:(“ - [My Immortal, legendary author unknown]

#disc horse #fandom discourse #fandom problems #fandom culture #proshipping #anti censorship #anti anti

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odetojupiter · 4 months

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so, we know that abuse and victim responses to abuse are very central to aftg, but what i find interesting is how other characters respond to the victim’s reactions, especially when it comes to mourning their abuser. there’s something about kevin mourning riko, aaron mourning tilda, neil mourning mary, andrew mourning cass, thats so important to me because it really truly highlights how even when people are united through similar traumas, the differences in their situations makes it impossible to fully understand the relationship a person has to their abuser. neil, aaron, and andrew are united through the abuse, neglect, or - what the fuck is the word i’m thinking of? permit? condone? i mean, knowingly allowing it to happen and not intervening - stemming from a maternal figure. but neil can’t understand why andrew would hold on to cass for so long - he refused to let her go until aaron came into the picture. and andrew can’t understand why aaron would mourn for tilda, potentially viewing aaron’s grief as a betrayal of their promise. and they all ridicule kevin for his reactions to riko. of course, neil and andrew are also abused by riko, but they still can’t understand the complicated relationship between kevin and riko because, at the end of the day, they just weren’t there.

i mean this is primarily an observation but i really love how trauma and trauma response is depicted as nuanced, complex and overall just difficult to understand from an outsider perspective in the books. it reads as really real, and though it can be frustrating when a character doesn’t understand a different character’s response, you have to understand that their perception of said character’s response is warped by their own experience of abuse.

andrew bounced from home to home, never had stability, so obviously he held tight on to the first mother-figure that didn’t outright hurt him. his self-worth was probably low enough that he thought living with drake was a fine price to pay to keep cass.

neil only ever had his mother, and he’d willingly accept her harsh hands because he believed she was just keeping him safe from the very real dangers that were closing in on them.

aaron was dealing with an addiction, and so was his mother; he was equally dependent on her to avoid withdrawal as he was scared of her anger.

i don’t really have a point anymore but you get what i’m saying

#or maybe this doesn’t make sense at all #idk i am struggling with words today #but genuinely i love how there’s no perfect ‘therapy friend’ in the series because it’s so unrealistic when someone is dealing with trauma #and somehow someone with a completely different upbringing understands them perfectly and always says exactly what the character needs #to hear #it’s something you see in fiction too much #the way these characters share certain experiences but aren’t 100% united in their responses to trauma #makes them feel so real #even if it means they say the wrong things sometimes #aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #kevin day #aaron minyard #i do indeed ramble on too much ik what ur thinking

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vikkirosko · 7 months

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Headcanons of how would Stolas, Fizzarolli, Asmodeus, Sir Pentious, Husk, and Alastor react to their shy crush confessing to him but they're shocked when he said it's mutual? They explained it's because they're fully expected to be rejected!

Headcanons Mutuality

📻 Alastor x Reader 🎙

Alastor often watched you at the hotel. You were a shy, quiet person that he was comfortable being around. He saw that you were in love with him, but he was in no hurry to say anything about his feelings to you. He was curious to know how long you were going to keep quiet about your feelings, but fortunately you didn't keep him waiting long. However, as soon as you told him about your feelings, he saw how you were going to leave, clearly not expecting him to reciprocate, as if you just told him about your feelings to stop keeping them a secret

Alastor asked you to wait a bit. He saw how you wanted to leave, greatly embarrassed by your confession, but he liked to see the confused expression on your face. When you finally looked at him, he told you that your feelings were mutual. The embarrassment on your face quickly turned to shock, which confirmed his idea that you weren't expecting reciprocation. You obviously didn't expect to hear such words from him

You quietly asked him if it was a joke. Alastor bluntly told you that it wasn't a joke, which caused a strong blush on your face. He was glad to see how sincere your feelings were, because if they weren't, you wouldn't be so embarrassed

Alastor finally let you go into the room so you could think about what happened. He saw how red your ears were while you were walking up the stairs quickly and it seemed very sweet to him. You were really sweet when you were embarrassed and Alastor liked the idea that he could see even more emotion on your face

🃏 Husk x Reader 🥃

You were a frequent guest at the bar. The reason for this was not that you were addicted to alcohol, but only that you and Husk were friends. You often chatted, even though you stopped talking as soon as someone else approached you. The reason for this was that you were a quiet and shy person. Husk liked that about you. He liked you in general. He was in love with you, but he was in no hurry to tell you about it. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you with his confession. That's what he thought, until late at night, when you were going to go to your rooms, you confessed your feelings to him

You were about to go into the room and clearly wanted to do it as quickly as possible, but Husk stopped you by grabbing your hand. He told you that he felt the same way about you. The bartender understood that if he didn't stop you, you would start avoiding him and this conversation, and you wouldn't be able to talk about it for a long time. But the shock on your face surprised him. It seems like you really didn't expect to hear words of love from him

It was obvious to Husk that you didn't expect reciprocity. He knew you well enough to understand your reaction. Your shyness prevented you from even suggesting a possible reciprocity, but Husk really loved you, which he wasn't going to keep quiet about. He saw a blush appear on your cheeks, and it made him smile contentedly

Husk wasn't going to let you forget about your confession. In the morning, when you come back to the bar, he will tell you again that he loves you, so that you do not think that what happened was a dream. Husk was glad that he finally revealed his feelings to you. Now he could see such a sweet expression on your face much more often

🐍Sir Pentious x Reader 🎩

You and Sir Pentious have been friends for a long time. During this time, he managed to learn how to behave as usual while communicating with you, because he was in love with you. He hid his feelings, being sure that his feelings were not mutual. You were a humble and quiet person, and Sir Pentious felt comfortable around you. But despite your strong friendship, it was a shock for him when you confessed your feelings to him

As soon as he realized exactly what you said, he hurried to hug you tightly, hurriedly saying how glad he was and that he had been in love with you for a long time. However, something happened that he did not expect. There was a real shock on your face, as if you hadn't even considered the option in which your feelings are reciprocated

Sir Pentious asked you if everything was exactly all right, to which you, with embarrassment on your face, told him that you really did not think that he would reciprocate you. He was genuinely surprised by your words, but hurried to hug you again, assuring you of the truthfulness of his feelings

He was really happy that you had such warm feelings for him. It made his heart sing and Sir Pentious intended to show you how much he loved you. He sincerely wanted to show you that he loves you and that he wants to make you happy with all his might

🦉 Stolas x Reader 🎩

Stolas has often found peace with you. You were friends with him and you were, it would seem, the only one to whom he told about how emotionally difficult it was for him to be married to Stella. After his divorce, he felt free and you began to spend more time together. You were quiet and shy, and Stolas enjoyed spending time with you. He was in love with you, but he didn't tell you about his feelings, not wanting to ruin your friendship, and he was going to keep quiet until you confessed to him that you were in love with him

You looked like you were waiting for him to turn you down, but it didn't happen. Stolas felt a blush appear on his cheeks and hurried to say that he is also in love with you. He was happy that you had feelings for him, but your shocked expression made him question. He didn't understand if you really didn't expect your feelings to be mutual

You, with an embarrassed look on your face, told him that you didn't expect him to feel this way about you. You were mentally prepared for the fact that your feelings were not mutual. You had time to mentally prepare for the fact that you would have to remain calm so as not to get very upset, at least in front of his eyes, but there was no need for that

Stolas felt that now your lives will become more joyful. He was glad that you were together now, even though the problems from the past would not disappear so easily. But now Stolas knew that besides his daughter, you would also be a bright ray in his life

🐓 Asmodeus x Reader 💕

Asmodeus has always wondered how such a quiet and shy person like you could live and work in Lust Ring. However, he was glad of it. Your company allowed him to feel calm after a hard day at work. You were friends and you always listened to what he said. Often when he put his arm around your shoulders you blushed, but Ozzie was sure it was because of your natural shyness. That's what he thought until you told him that you were in love with him

Ozzie felt elated when he heard the confession from you. The reason for this was that your feelings were mutual. He hurried to tell you about it, about how he felt about you, but instead of happiness or embarrassment, he saw a real shock on your face. You obviously didn't expect your feelings to be mutual

You quietly confessed to him that you were mentally prepared to be rejected, because you were too shy for such a confident person as Asmodeus. Your words made him laugh and he hurried to hug you. He really loved you and now he had the opportunity to show you how much

Ozzie was hoping to show you how much he loved you. He was ready to shower you with compliments and kisses so that you wouldn't even think that he could reject your feelings. He loved you very much and hoped that you would lose all doubts

🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader 💟

You've always been a quiet and shy person. Fizzarolli treated this with understanding. You were close and often spent time together. Sometimes you looked embarrassed next to him, but Fizz believed that your natural shyness was the reason for this, and it was only when you confessed your feelings to him that he realized that you were not only shy, but also in love with him

Fizz saw that you seemed to expect his refusal, but it did not happen. He's been in love with you for a while now and your confession made him blush and his heart beat faster. Fizzarolli reciprocated your feelings by smiling and feeling happy, but the shock on your face surprised him. You obviously didn't expect your feelings to be reciprocated

You quietly confessed to him that you didn't think that a person like Fizzarolli would reciprocate your feelings, so you were mentally preparing for the fact that you would be rejected, which is why the fact that he is in love with you surprised you so much. You couldn't even imagine that such a thing was even possible

Fizz understood that even though your feelings for each other were reciprocated, you were still shy and it would obviously not be easy for you to show your feelings. However, Fizzarolli was sure that he would be able to show love for the two of you until you feel comfortable enough to take the first step towards showing feelings yourself

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #Alastor #Alastor x Reader #Husk #Husk x Reader #Sir Pentious #Sir Pentious x Reader #Helluva Boss #Helluva Boss x Reader #Helluva Boss headcanons #Stolas #Stolas x Reader #Asmodeus #Asmodeus x Reader #Fizzarolli #Fizzarolli x Reader

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lotus-slumbers · 3 months

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Yandere batfamily x addict reader?

Would they exploit and manipulate the reader, making em solely dependent on the family for their fix — either to originally trap them at the manor or continuing to supply em forever, because it makes the reader dependant on them, acting all cuddly and desperate. or would they reform and sober up the reader? Have em go through a whole rehabilitation process style.

Gotham’s not safe for the poor reader, imagine all the villains who’d kill em for the drugs they’re so dependent on? But it’s okay! Because the Wayne’s will protect em. Whether the reader wants them to or not isn’t up for debate.

If you’re uncomfortable with this topic I totally understand. Just send me a message to say pls??

Yandere! Batfam x Addict! Reader Headcannons

Tw: addiction, substance abuse, etc.

— If there was anything that could accelerate the Batfam abducting adopting their darling sooner, this would be it.

— In their eyes, this is a type of abuse. Abuse from all of those around you and nobody is safe from the pointing of their accusatory finger. Not even those people who truly are innocent and have tried to help.

— You may notice people around you drawing away, avoiding you. Maybe some friends who you used to talk with who shared the same addiction, others a dealer who supplied you.

— Though, you may not notice this at all because they'll work quick.

— The term "self-harm" is thrown around once while discussing your habitual substance abuse and that's it. That's all it takes to make them snap and agree unanimously that, yes, this is for the best. Today is the day, if they have everything completely set up for you or not.

— Within twenty-four hours, you'll be in the manor with your family. Right where you belong.

— Rich people get same-day delivery!! Woohoo!! 🙌 🚚

— Of course, that isn't the only motivator for the Wayne's to take you. As much as it pains them to see you suffering at your own hands, they understand just how well the scum of Gotham can and will hurt you.

— They'll take care of the vermin that supplied and enabled you all the same. They have a duty to Gotham, it was going to happen eventually, just now there might be a little bit more passion to it... They won't tell you about it, though.

— The Batfam would most definitely attempt to nip the problem in the bud, forcing you to go cold turkey immediately.

— Bruce will have everything thought out. He's spent countless hours since learning about your issues researching in depth everything he could possibly need to know.

— They have patches at the ready for you when you start to feel the effects of withdrawal. They have stress balls and plenty of activities to try and keep your mind elsewhere and on other things.

— And eyes on you, always.

— And a bracelet, pressed snuggly against your skin and seemingly impossible to get off, to monitor your health. Reports directly at their fingertips, whenever they want it.

— They want you in the best condition they can have you. Not just physically, but mentally too. Bruce would most likely like to have one-on-one conversations with you, about life before, your transitioning here, and, of course, how you are doing with withdrawal.

— If he thinks you're not doing a good enough job with him, he can always pay for the best help available. With his amount of money, nobody has to know either... So don't think of asking them to help you. You won't be believed or they simply won't do it.

— Bruce, Dick, and Jason would probably be the worse about lecturing you on it. Mention withdrawal to them or any desire to return to what you once had... Oh boy, good luck.

— Bruce would go on and on about your health. How he loves you. Wants what is best for you, even if you cannot see it. A deep look of disappointment and concern behind his eyes. He won't school it, he wants to to see it. Feel it and stop. Grow into the person he knows you can be, with their help. Let him protect you.

— Dick is fairly similar to Bruce in this regard, although he is a little more relaxed, trying to be on your level while also acting as your "older brother," something he takes much pride in. He'll probably baby you more than the others, offering to help find alternatives and promise rewards for your efforts (not that you have much of a choice in the matter).

— Jason, though? Jason Todd, the little boy who grew up on the streets? Watch the lives of those he loved so much be ruined and so cruelly snatched away by these exact things? No way. It hits way too close to home, especially since it's you.

— He's understanding towards you so long as you don't push too far. One mention of wanting it and he's on your ass, telling you off about it. He'll help with withdrawal. He'll help you get over it, be a shoulder to lean on and a friend to laugh with, but, God, don't you dare threaten him like that ever again.

— Tim helps with Bruce and his plans most of all, going through all the little details to help plan out the smoothest way to go about this.

— Damian is pissed that you would even ever do any of this in the first place, beating you in his weakest, more frustrated moments but this reaffirms to him that you need him.

— Really, this reaffirms all of them that, despite any guilt, they may feel for the "crimes" they committed for you, it was the right choice. That their darling needed them, desperately.

— They'll never give up on you, not in your darkest moments or theirs. They love you, through and through, and would give the world to you if only you asked.

— But they'd never, ever let you do that to yourself. Your last high was the last time you would ever, ever be.

— They know they could supply you, that it could be an easy way to control you and gain your love. Love that they are so desperately longing for, wanting to be returned, but they won't do it. They can't do that. Not to you of all people.

— It goes against their very nature, as it would harm you.

— You'll learn to love them eventually. It isn't like there is a real rush. You're not going anywhere at all. They'll take the long, high road.

— Batfam will protect you to their last breath and love you through and through. You don't need to do a thing.

— The only reason they would ever supply you is if they truly had no other options. If you were super-powered in a way they could not find a way to contain or around people they couldn't take you away from. Which is a highly unlikely possibility.

💜 A/n: Sorry that this took me so long to get to. Hopefully, it's not too typo-ridden and you enjoy it!

This is not meant to glorify any type of substance abuse or any type of addiction. This was my first time writing for such so please, if I made a mistake in my handling of the subject, reach out and let me know!

For substance abuse treatment and mental health referrals, contact the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration's (SAMHSA) National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP (4357).

You are loved beyond measure.

#batfam hurt/comfort #yandere batfam hurt/comfort #yandere batfam #batfam #yandere #yandere bruce wayne #platonic yandere #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne

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sh0tanzz · 3 months

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RIIZE RED FLAGS ~ based on astrology

maknae line edition ❗️. hyung line here

reminder this is based off of MY opinions of their birth chart placements + aspects and is not exact fact unless I knew them myself and I am not a professional astrologer

Seunghan

Belittling - he may have a tendency to make his partners doubt their intelligence in arguments by questioning and even judging their reactions, feelings and thoughts about certain things. Could make a person feel like they’re constantly overreacting and that only his pov makes sense

Emotional - tying into the red flag that was just listed, despite being one to doubt his s/o’s intelligence if he feels cornered or belittled himself he can easily feel emotional and upset, essentially he’s one to dish it but not take it and can be harsh whilst also sensitive which can be pretty unfair

Easily Influenced - he could be the type to turn to the people and friends around him on opinions, feelings and advice about his relationships instead of just thinking for himself and listening to his s/o. Due to this he may let his friends get in his ear and influence his actions and choices instead of acting authentically

Sohee

Harsh Words - 😭 this one is a bit surprising to some briize but with Sohee having a sag mercury square mars/pluto he can accidentally say some really harsh and personal things in arguments and could possibly say things that he ultimately regret due to how rude and even insulting t could be

Noncommittal - He may take a long time to fully establish what relationship he wants because he has a hard time distinguishing his love for someone from lust towards them. This combined with the fact that he may have a hard time acting on what he wants can make him seem flaky or detached

Wavering - he can flip flop between being overly optimistic or even lax and complacent/stagnant in his relationships to being overly restless and constantly needing stimulation in his relationships, essentially he’s kind of hard to please to a degree

Anton

Possessive - Anton’s chart lowkey hints that he can have a bit of an addictive/possessive personality, he is protective and possessive of those that he cares about and though initially it can be easy to not worry about he may have keep you separate from others to avoid getting too jealous

Irritable - he is sensitive but not in the common sense. he has many boundaries and specific pet peeves that can easily be touched which can lead to annoyance and when brought to a certain point he can have a pretty heavy attitude and may act besides himself or even get to a point where he can get very rude and cutting with his words if he’s upset by the irritation

Hyper Independent - sometimes he can base his actions and decisions on his own personal wants and desires which can lead to him making decisions that can be seen as selfish or even inconsiderate towards others/his partner and this can be further exalted if he feels upset or slighted

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chefkids · 3 months

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Feel like it’s impossible to continue to ship them after that cold open with Carmy thinking about her at 5am. If he’s in love with Sydney he doesn’t know it - and I don’t think that’s even a thing. I don’t see how they come back from that.

Claire is not Carmy's future. She's "Wednesday".

Being in denial about feelings and trying to repress them is definitely a thing. And if there's one thing Carmy has ever consistently done is be in denial and suppress. Like he did with Mikey, the NYC Chef trauma, his mother's alcoholism, Sydney when she quit etc. Part II was all about Carmy using Claire to avoid the restaurant/Sydney, even when we saw him being riddled with panic attacks every time he was with Claire. He was trying to make Claire his present/future but every time it kept pulling him back to his past. Part III was all Carmy trying to mentally rewrite his relationship with Claire and conveniently ignoring all the weird times and the panic attacks. Carmy does not think about happy times with Claire to feel happy. He thinks about them to stay in his cold pit of despair and to keep himself from moving on and accepting amusement or enjoyment in his life again. He's addicted to thinking about Claire like he's addicted to cigarettes. Both were not good for him and "a waste of time", and he "quit" both of them but he continues to think about them all the time because he is a self-destructive person.

That long scene with Claire that he thought of at 5 am established several things. Primarily that Carmy is still in "Wednesday", both the literal day that it took place but as a concept. He's stuck in the past with Claire. Frozen in time. He says he used to love Wednesday's as a kid, just like he used to love Claire. Now Sydney is just trying to get past Wednesday, while Carmy tries to avoid thinking about his legacy and the future.

His least favorite day is Sunday because the restaurant is closed and he has nothing to do and he can't turn off the "buzz" at night. Conveniently the only day he doesn't see Sydney. And it's also what Sydney lied about in order to get him to give her a job at The Beef. Then after thinking of Sunday's, Claire noticed his heart was beating really fast, in a seemingly calm situation. Buzzing one might even say.

Then they talk about his hand scar from grabbing a hot pot. He really grabbed it and it's really deep, but he wasn't paying attention. In the very first episode when Sydney arrives, he's arguing with Richie and grabs a really hot pot and burns his hand. Syd is a hot pot that he hasn't been paying attention to and that is going to leave a very deep scar on him once she leaves him.

Claire tells him a story about the girl who came into the ER on the 4th of July with a bunch of cuts, and that she almost killed her by not paying attention to her chart, but when she woke up from surgery she didn't even feel pain because it hurt so much that it didn't hurt at all yet. Then in that same episode Carmy cuts his hand and Sydney walks by, then she cuts her hand after telling him he is not communicating or paying attention. A small cut to the many that he has been adding to his relationship with Sydney. That scene remembering Claire was about how he is hurting people and himself but can't stop because he doesn't feel it yet, because he is frozen in the past, and despite his denial, he still can't "turn off" the buzz of Sydney from his head.

In Apologies after Sydney left him when he realized he was thinking about her while making a dish and starting to allow amusement/enjoyment back in his life by asking Syd to come to Ever, he went back into the fridge to distract himself by thinking about Claire again the same way he did when he was trapped in the fridge, to try to turn off the "buzzing" from Sydney.

Natalie had a similar early morning blue light flashback about her own unresolved issues, thinking about Marcus's mom's funeral and Donna. But by the end of the season we see that she has made peace with her past and Donna and has moved forward with being a mother.

How does Carmy move on from a Claire obsessed season? He faces her reality and what his relationship was her was actually like, not just a highlight reel. He might feel guilt but does he actually want to even be with her again? Doesn't seem like she does based on her conversation with the Fak's.

How does the show establish his feelings for Sydney have always been there? He actually explains to Syd why he wanted her as his partner at the end of Part I, why he was avoiding her/why he thought he could make his feelings for her go away by being with Claire in Part II, and why he was not letting Claire go in Part III and not letting himself feel amusement or enjoyment with her. The same way he explained why he wanted to build a restaurant with Mikey, why he avoided grieving him, and how he accepted the reality of the situation at the end of the end of Part I at al anon and the same way he opened up to her under the table to her in Part II. He is capable of using his words when he really wants to. Losing Claire might have put him in a funk, but if he loses Sydney? Everyone around him is going to be painfully aware of how much she actually means to him compared to Claire. Cause that guy could barely stay alive after she quit the first time. Mikey and Sydney are the only two people Carmy has ever made plans with for the future.

#the bear #the bear meta #sydcarmy #carmen berzatto #sydney adamu #the bear fx #claire the bear #the bear season 3

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katyaromanoffpetrova · 2 months

Text

Is this the end? (part I)

Katya is new at SHIELD. When she messes up during her probation, she thinks Fury will send her away. To ease the pain, she distances herself from Nat.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.6k • Warnings: angst, mentions of self-harm (not detailed) •A/N: I couldn't fit everything into one post, so there will be a part two in a few day's time :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

2007

The Triskelion slowly emerged in the distance. Tall, massive, impressive. A building fit for a strong organization like SHIELD. A statement to scare off their enemies.

It used to intimidate Katya too, back when she worked for that enemy. All Hydra agents were warned to stay far away from SHIELD HQ, unless they wanted to die.

But in the past few months, it had amazingly become her safe space. A place where she could breathe for the first time in her life. A place she eagerly returned to.

Not right now, though.

On this sunny, late afternoon in cold November, Katya dreaded landing the Quinjet on the flight deck and getting out. Her hands shook as she pressed the buttons and flipped the switches, forcing her breathing to stay normal so the SHIELD agent in the co-pilot seat wasn't alerted of her anxiety.

She failed her mission. She messed up. Badly. She let Fury down.

And she was still on probation.

Her boss was very clear; make one mistake and she's out. And Fury always meant what he said. Always.

Katya didn't think she could keep going if she was kicked out of the one place that showed her kindness. If she was forced to say goodbye to the love of her life once more.

That was the worst of it all; her failure would come back on Natasha. Natasha who was responsible for her. Natasha who promised Fury that Katya was fit for duty. Natasha who had faith in her to become a better person.

Not only had Katya let herself, the safety of the world, and her boss down, she had disappointed the woman she loved. And that stung more than anything.

The Quinjet barely wobbled as it touched the ground—at least she could do one thing right—and Katya helped her co-pilot with the shutdown procedure before lifting her heavy body out of the pilot seat.

She didn't want to go out there. As long as she was in the jet, she was safe from being fired. Or she could pretend that she was safe, at least. So Katya took her sweet time collecting her things, triple checking that the Quinjet was ready for its next use before reluctantly making her way outside.

Her anxiety was miles high as she crossed the flight deck. She felt like a pig being led to the slaughter. Every step of her booted feet took more effort than the last. Katya kept her gaze ahead and avoided the scared agents that jumped out of her way, refusing to let them see the fear in her eyes.

She thought about running. It was her first instinct after she managed to escape her mission earlier today. It shouldn't have taken her fifteen minutes to decide to call in a SHIELD pickup, but it did, and she felt so ashamed about it.

That part of her life was supposed to be over. Done. But it tempted her like a line of coke tempted a drug addict.

Being on the run, being alone, it was so much easier. The only responsibilities she had were to herself. The only person she could disappoint was herself. If she messed up on a shady deal, they would be hunting her for a while, but only her.

Having people who counted on her was harder than she thought it would be. Emotions were harder than she thought they would be. Her default setting was to isolate and be alone. To run when things were bad.

But she wouldn't take the easy way out this time. She refused to. With a deep inhale, Katya stepped inside the building.

To her surprise, nothing happened. She expected some agent to materialize and take her to Fury, or for people to stare and gossip about her failure. She had even imagined Natasha standing there, a disappointed frown on her face. But life inside SHIELD HQ went on as usual. They barely spared her a glance.

Without further hesitation, Katya mixed with the group heading for the elevators. Maybe if she blended in, she could hide and avoid having her soul broken for a little longer. Maybe, if she was fast enough, she could make it to her room and hide from Natasha as long as possible.

The agents around her should know how hard her heart pounded as they shuffled away from her. How scared she was. It could be the last time they saw her face. It could be her last day in this building. Her last time riding this elevator.

Katya's throat closed up. The tiny room suddenly felt extremely crowded. Panic pressed on her lungs. When she arrived at her floor, she bumped some shoulders in her rush to get out. As soon as she crashed through her apartment door, she sank to the floor, shaking.

The silence inside her apartment was terrible. The thoughts in her head sounded ten times as loud in the silence. They were overwhelming. The angry voices screamed at her, calling her a failure, a loser, that she would be better off dead.

She wrapped her arms around her knees in search of comfort. Comfort that she didn't deserve from anyone else.

How did she manage to mess up this badly? The mission Fury gave her was so simple, nothing she hadn't done before. Infiltrate a Hydra building—one Katya had marked as one—and steal some information. In and out.

But somehow, they spotted her. Katya still didn't know how. She knew nobody could have heard her, or seen her. But the alarms went off and all the exits were blocked. She was trapped with no way out.

It took her locking herself into a room and hotwiring one of the alarm boxes on the walls, to lift the blockades and escape. She ran for five miles through the hills and hid before calling a SHIELD jet to pick her up.

Now they had seen her face, knew she worked for SHIELD, knew their facility was compromised, and knew what information they were after.

It was the worst thing she could have ever done. She might as well have sent them an email. Fury would not be taking this lightly.

Katya only noticed she was hyperventilating when someone slammed a door shut down the hall that made her jump.

She felt ridiculous, rocking back and forth like a baby on the floor of her apartment, but it was her apartment, her safe space. She felt in her bones that she started to belong here, that this was where she should be. So it hurt a million times more, knowing she herself was the reason she would lose it all.

Katya sat on the floor for hours, digging her nails into her arms until welts started to form. Only when dusk set in did she pick herself off the floor, exhausted and covered in cold sweat. Nobody had come to check on her.

She did her coming-home routine on autopilot. Shower, unpack, turn on her phone that she couldn't take with her on the mission, eat something—even though her stomach was in knots and she felt nauseous.

She had four missed texts from Natasha, each more worried than the last.

Nat (3:44 PM): Welcome back. Hope the mission went according to plan :)

Nat (3:46 PM): Are you okay?

Nat (4:18 PM): Can't get out of this meeting, so I can't check in. Can you let me know if you're alright?

Nat (5:52 PM): I hope you fell asleep. Dinner later? My last meeting ends at 7. If I don't hear anything from you, I'm taking it as a yes.

Guilt started to pile up on Katya's shoulders. She couldn't tell Natasha what happened. She couldn't handle letting her down. She couldn't handle breaking her heart. She couldn't handle having her own heart broken again.

Katya left the messages unanswered. Maybe Natasha would take that as a sign to not come and find her later.

She didn't. When she showed up at 7 PM and knocked on the door, Katya pretended to be asleep. She stayed "asleep" for the rest of the night and never answered the texts in the morning.

This streak of avoidance continued throughout the week. Katya woke up earlier on purpose, so she finished breakfast right when Natasha walked into the cafeteria. She changed her workout schedule from early mornings to the late evenings to avoid Natasha, who trained in the morning. She walked the other way when she saw Natasha in the hallway. She didn't answer texts, or answered very late.

When Natasha did manage to talk to her long enough to make plans, Katya canceled them last minute with some lame excuse.

It stung. It hurt every fiber of Katya's being to ignore Natasha like that. The woman didn't deserve it. She should be getting angry with her, but instead Katya triggered her insecurities too.

When she asked if Katya didn't want her around anymore, the blonde swore she heard her heart shatter.

But this was necessary. Even though Fury still hadn't called her in, Katya knew her exit from SHIELD was close. She needed to create a distance between herself and Natasha beforehand, so it would hurt less when that time came.

"Stop avoiding me."

It was lunchtime, Tuesday, and Natasha had finally managed to corner Katya. Literally. She'd grabbed her wrist in passing and forced her into a random supply closet in the hallway. Her body pressed Katya's against the wall, a fire in her green eyes.

"I'm not. I'm busy," Katya answered with a hint of annoyance, impatiently eyeing the door. She had places to be, people to avoid.

"Don't lie to me," Natasha bit back, vulnerability in the back of her voice. "We're beyond that."

"Nat." Katya tried, avoiding her gaze at any cost. She didn't want to do this.

"What is going on? You better tell me right now," Natasha demanded.

Katya scowled. "Nothing. Let me go."

"Kat—"

"I said, let me go."

Slowly, Natasha stepped back, giving Katya enough space to escape. The brunette eagerly took advantage of that and slipped back into the hallway. They may not be in a good place, but they always respected each other's boundaries.

Natasha was at a complete loss. The only thing she knew was that everything changed after that mission. If she wanted to know why Katya was avoiding her, the key lay at that mission.

The problem was; her clearance wasn't high enough to get any information. She'd tried to get into the system, but it blocked her. The only thing left to try was going to the person who knew it all.

"I need to know what happened. And no confidentiality bullshit."

Natasha stood in front of Fury's desk, her arms crossed over her chest. She was angry. At Katya, at herself, at the secrets. She was tired of the emotional rollercoaster, of being left in the dark. She wanted answers, now.

Fury lazily gazed up at her, unimpressed and calm. "It's simple. Petrova failed her mission."

A wave of nausea hit Natasha. Deep down, she wasn't surprised to hear this. She suspected something like this. But actually having it confirmed was something else. She, too, knew what it meant if Katya failed.

"Lots of us fail our missions."

"Correct. But we've also never had a Hydra deserter join us before," Fury said casually, reorganizing some folders on his desk.

Something clicked for Natasha. She didn't know the magnitude of the mission, or Katya's failure. But if Fury was this calm about it, and if Katya was still here, a week later, something else must be going on. As always, the Director of SHIELD had ulterior motives.

"You set her up," she realized with disgust. "You set her up to fail."

Fury didn't blink an eye at her accusation, only proving that she was right. "Only when they face death do people show their true faces."

Natasha boiled with anger, clenching her fists to keep herself contained. He really sent the woman she loved into a building full of hostiles just to prove her loyalty. "She could have died!"

"I knew she could get herself out of that situation."

Natasha had never felt as protective over someone as she did right now. "Katya doesn't deserve your mistrust. She's been loyal since she set foot inside this building. She hasn't lied about anything."

"Loyalty runs deep. We shouldn't underestimate her ties to her former employer."

Natasha swallowed back some nasty words. To call the Director of SHIELD an asshole was risky, even for her. Maybe especially for her.

"If your goal was to make her terrified of losing everything good she found, then you succeeded."

Fury sharply glanced up at her with his one good eye. "We are not a charity, Agent Romanoff. Petrova needs to understand that her stay here isn't guaranteed."

Natasha clenched her teeth together. What an outrageous way to prove a point. "If she has to go, I'm going with her. Just so you understand that too."

"Message received," Fury said dryly, returning his gaze to the desk. "Loud and clear."

A mess of emotions raged in her body as Natasha left his office and legged towards Katya's apartment. It was false hope that sent her there. Hope that her small, meaningless conversation with Fury would calm Katya down enough to talk to her.

She was still furious at him. Furious for sending Katya into a trap, for mistrusting her, and for being the perfect director. She was angry because she couldn't be angry at him. In his position, it was a logical move to test Katya's loyalty.

But Natasha's love for the woman clouded her judgment. Funnily enough.

"Open up." Her knocks were fast and impatient on Katya's door. "It's me, and I'm not leaving until you hear me out." She was determined this time, willing to kick the door in, now that she knew why Katya acted so strangely.

To her surprise, Katya opened the door. Her body shielded Natasha's wandering eyes from seeing her apartment. She had dark circles under her eyes, pale skin, and a slow way of moving about her. "What is it?"

Natasha pushed past her before Katya could stop her. It had been a while since she had been in the apartment, and what she saw broke her heart. "Why do you have everything packed?" Katya didn't answer. All her personal belongings were in bags. "You don't have to leave. It was a test. And I think you passed it."

Katya snapped her head up, her eyes suddenly wide awake. "How do you— Ты говорил с ним (You went and talked to him)?"

Natasha was taken aback by her sharp tone. "I—"

"мне не нужна няня (I don't need a babysitter)!" The brunette raised her voice. "I made a mistake during probation. He has every right to send me off, test or not!"

"But it's not a fair test if he set you up to fail!"

"That doesn't matter! Failing still isn't an option! Test or not!"

Natasha thought she would be easing Katya's mind. But the woman only saw failure, clouded by fear. Katya was too terrified to lose everything to think rationally. "You're being too hard on yourself," Natasha continued gently. "You're an amazing agent. All your other missions went perfectly."

Katya huffed, raising her arm to scratch her head. "You can save 20 people, but we both know you only remember the one you killed."

Natasha barely heard her words. When Katya lifted her arm, her short sleeve lifted enough to show red welts on her arms in the form of nails. Clearly self-inflicted. Pointedly, Natasha looked at that arm, the spots now carefully covered. "Nothing is worth doing that to yourself."

Katya watched her go with a broken look in her eyes.

#katandnat #katyaromanoffpetrova #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfic #marvel #avengers #mcu

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reiderwriter · 10 months

Note

May I please request a fic where Spencer finds out about the new female team member’s love for gaming by seeing her play her Nintendo Switch on the jet? Bonus if he sees her struggling to beat something like Five Nights At Freddy’s or Catherine Full Body and he helps her out much to her shock

A/N: Thanks for requesting! I'm not much of a gamer myself, so it took a while to figure out what I should write. I went with FNAF because I’ve literally been held hostage by that Josh Hutcherson Whistle tiktok for the last seven days, so I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: mild spoilers for FNAF 4 Night 8, fluff.

“What is that?” Spencer asked casually, glancing over at the screen from his seat on the jet.

For some reason, despite facing monsters in real life, you'd been addicted to horror games in your downtime. Apparently, it was better for you if the crazy murderers were actually sentient animatronics possessed by the ghost of murdered children.

“It's a Nintendo Switch. It's a video game.” You replied without looking at him, heart racing from the pressure of the level.

“Like pacman?”

“Yes, Spencer, like pacman.” You sighed in frustration, trying to avoid running into the animatronics running around the building your character was supposed to be guarding.

“Then why is the screen black,” he said, just as Mad Freddy snuck up on you in the game and you lost the level. You sighed, head falling back in defeat.

You'd been stuck on night 8 of FNAF 4 for at least a week now, but who could blame you? You had to play completely in the dark, and you were dealing with some of the worst animatronics, too.

You'd been so happy to discover 20202020 mode, and you'd passed night 7 easy enough and they were honestly pretty similar, but one week into consistently playing it in all of your downtime, and you were seconds away from sacrificing your switch to the animatronic gods.

“It's supposed to make it more challenging. I think it's just impossible.” You threw the switch down, making sure all your progress (or lack of it) was saved.

“Can I try?” Spencer curiously asked from beside you, smiling at the soft pout on your face.

“Are you sure? It's not exactly your style…?”

“Humor me.”

You passed him the switch, showed him the controls, and snuggled back against your seat, eager to catch some sleep now suddenly. You had just closed a long case, and you may as well try to sleep now before the pile of paperwork made that impossible.

If it was easy to fall asleep, it was impossible to drag yourself from sleep.

You'd felt the familiar movements of the jet jostle you side to side, but you also felt a warmth next to your body that was too comfortable to convince you to even crack an eye open.

After a week on the case, plus a week trying to solve the game level, you really hadn't slept soundly in some time.

So when someone shook your shoulders, you simply ignored the motion again and cuddled closer to the arm and chest you'd wrapped yourself around.

Until you realised that the arm and chest had to belong to a person. And the only person that could be was Spencer Reid.

“It's okay, I'll wake her up, you guys go ahead.” You heard him say, with a few muffled voices agreeing.

You decided to just play dead as you heard the shuffling sounds of the rest of the team climbing off the jet. At which point you just happened to stretch yourself naturally out of your peaceful sleep.

“Spencer?” You yawned, trying to sound confused. “Did we arrive?”

You disentangled yourself from his body, realising that in facing him, your faces had hovered centimetres apart from one another. His breathing was calm, but you could feel his heart beating hard as you pulled away from him, mind racing at the not so innocent touches he traced down your skin as he let you go.

“Yeah, the team got off already. We should probably head out, too, before the cabin crew comes through to reset.”

You stood yourself up and grabbed your things, including your switch, now packed carefully into its carry case.

“So, you gave up as well, huh?” You laughed at the obvious sign of Spencer's white flag.

“What do you mean?” He said, grabbing his own bags now he was free from your grasp.

“The game? It was hard, right?” You smiled at him as he collected himself and turned back to you, pausing slightly.

“I finished the game.”

“What?” You whirled around on him, voice breaking through your lips before you could control it.

“I finished the game. I was just watching the credits when you… made yourself comfortable.”

You felt embarrassment spread through your body but pushed it down to make space for the sheer disbelief that known technophobe Spencer Reid had completed the video game you'd been struggling with for the past week.

“How?” was the only word that would leave your mouth as you froze in the aisle.

“There was a pattern to it. I realised if I went between the left door, the bed, and the right door, the fox thing-”

“Nightmare Foxy.”

“Right, Nightmare Foxy wouldn't come out of the closet. And then the others wouldn't pop up until 4am, and after that, it was pretty easy to get through.”

“Oh my god.” You stood in awe, blocking the aisle and forcing Spencer to stop next to you as well.

“You have to show me how. Please, Spencer, I need to see it.”

You hadn't realised your hand had crept up to grab his sleeve, pushing closer to him slightly.

“Are you free this weekend?” He whispered back at you as you realised that the space between you was miniscule. You could only nod your confirmation enthusiastically.

“Then it's a date.” He whispered again, pushing past you and letting himself off the jet.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #fnaf

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stayconnecteed · 10 months

Text

❪⠀🪐. hot chocolate⠀𓏔⠀bangchan⠀❫

☆ㅤbarista!bangchan x afab!reader ( i wanna be yours oneshots )⠀★⠀9.1k words

( i'm sorry if this sucks, i know it's long. have a nice day cuties ♡ )

synopsys: every time you tell someone that you don't like coffee, the reaction is total incomprehension, even indignation. but when your university classmates leave you standing at the café where your crush works, you decide to order a coffee to try to avoid looking bad and end up making a fool of yourself. warnings: i think fluff bangchan needs a warning by itself because woah you can become addicted. but a part from that, there's a brief mention of death while talking about korean mithology, reader is a very introverted and insecure person ーexpect a lot of sad thoughts :(( but felix is here to save the day and hopefully the rest of the story is a little bit of idiots who have a crush on each other.

You were stressed because the first semester was about to end, you had Christmas vacations around the corner, exams approaching at an overwhelming speed, and yet one of your teachers had given you two last-minute projects, one practical and one theoretical. Luckily it was in groups, and your best friend, Hyunjin, had included you in his after a quick pleading glance, assuring you some peace of mind. Not that he was very good at the academic aspect ーnotes, exams, homework and studying in generalー, but he made up for it with a great sense of aesthetic, and managed to make all your projects really visually appealing. Also, your other two friends were very nice and very good at the subject, so whenever you didn't understand something they would always offer to explain it to you with a big smile and kind words.

If they had a flaw, unfortunately, it was being late absolutely everywhere. And perhaps an unhealthy addiction to coffee, although that was not so much a flaw as a general characteristic of the vast majority of students. Sadly, neither of the two suited you at the moment, when you found yourself in front of the most famous coffee shop on the entire campus, all by yourself, after you had been forced to walk more meters than you were willing to do on a normal day, as they didn't show up at the appointed time. Having to enter without his company was not what worried you, but what you would have to face once inside.

To say you hated coffee would be an exaggeration. In fact, during exam week you would have a couple of cups to avoid falling asleep over your notes on those endless nights of studying, or in the middle of class, but it just wasn't your favorite flavor. You hated the taste. Too bitter, the unpleasant aftertaste instantly drying your mouth and lingering on your tongue as an annoying reminder of the beverage you had just tasted. You always grimaced terribly when you took your first sip, something that anyone watching you found absurdly funny, and then, as you swallowed, even with your eyes closed, a shiver would run through your spine, as if your body recognized the drink and reacted to it.

The problem was that 5STAR was a coffee shop that specialized in coffee. They had scones, and cookies, and brownies to go with it, but they didn't make smoothies or juices. And you usually only went there with Hyunjin, who had been responsible for asking if they could make hot chocolate that first afternoon you had met to study there, a couple of years ago, before he had even started working in the establishment. You had been so embarrassed that it had taken you quite a while to return, and since then you had always left it up to him to order for you, after you had made sure that the barista who was serving was either him or Felix, the blond, freckle-faced Australian you went to class with, because you had never felt judged by his smile upon discovering that the chocolate was for you.

But now you were alone, on the sidewalk, and the time you had spent looking inside the place was starting to look weird. Your options were simple: go in, order a hot chocolate, sit down to prepare the subject and pretend it was the most normal thing in the world, or go in, order the first coffee you saw on the menu hanging on the wall, sit down to prepare the subject and wait for Hyunjin to come through the door to ask him to drink it. Obviously, you chose the second option, too tempted at the thought that someone might judge you, so you closed your eyes, took a breath of air, and pushed open the heavy glass door, praying that the barista who was serving at that moment wasn't the cute guy who, you had to admit, you had a little crush on.

But there he was, behind the counter, with a friendly smile plastered on his face, his dimples appearing and disappearing as he moved his lips to talk to the customer in front of him. He had decided not to put on the beanie he usually wore almost every day, and his thick curls spilled over his head, giving him a more relaxed look, in contrast to the serious outfit that was the café's uniform, with black pants and T-shirt and beige apron. You knew relatively little about him, such as that his name was Chris and he had been at the same college you went to, but shooting him quick glances whenever you went and he was there was your favorite hobby.

You cleared your throat, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear in a nervous gesture and stood in line, fiddling with your phone case, pulling out a corner and putting it back to pretend your hands weren't shaking. You didn't normally get so nervous about social interactions, but it was true that your natural shyness and introverted nature have given you more than one bad experience. And the fact that you were going to talk to Chris for the first time only made your anxiety skyrocket, because you know you weren't able to control what you say. Your mind went on autopilot, and all you' were left with was remembering for weeks the nonsense you had blurted out, unable to change a single word. You tried to formulate in your head the phrase you're going to use as the queue slowly moved forward, your gaze locked on the way you move your feet as you walked.

"Hello?" you heard, lifting your head so fast you feared you'd hurt your neck. Great, you were so distracted you didn't notice when it was your turn.

"Hi" you replied, forcing your eyes to fix on his and stopping them from roaming over every feature of his face. Fixing on his but blinking normally, you reminded yourself, clearing your throat again.

"Good afternoon" he repeated, his voice soft and gentle, one of his hands already over the screen to take down your order. "What will you have?"

"Oh..." you murmured, trying to rescue from your memory the phrase you had prepared. Don't say hot chocolate, don't say hot chocolate, don't say... "Hot chocolate."

"Huh?" he asked, his lips parted and his eyebrows furrowing in adorable confusion. You realized your tone was too low and he probably hadn't heard you correctly, though it was clear you had said something, denying you the chance to make up another answer to cover your mistake.

"Hot chocolate" you whispered again, glancing at the three people behind you, trying not to let them hear. You noticed the heat flushing your cheeks as you spoke, "Can you, uh, can you say it's something else?"

"Excuse me?" you couldn't help but watch his frown deepen even more, and you made a panicked face, trying to find a convincing excuse that didn't expose your null extroverted abilities or how poorly you had approached the conversation. Chris realized almost instantly how it was affecting you, and reached a hand over the counter to caress yours, relaxing his features. "Hey, hey, I just don't understand what you mean."

You heard the hammering of your heartbeat all over the place, drowning out the background noise as it rumbled in your ears, or in the muscles of your hand that were in contact with the barista's skin, but mostly in your chest, at such a volume that for a moment you feared all the café would be able to hear it. You swallowed saliva with difficulty, your mouth suddenly completely dry, and tried to formulate something that made a minimal amount of sense, "I'd rather not drink coffee, but I don't want those in the back to know that I ordered hot chocolate."

And then you saw him flash that smile you loved so much, trying to stifle a laugh, and he nodded, withdrawing his hand from above yours to write it down.

"Don't worry, I'll personally take care of your order" he assured you, his eyes glinting at the screen, biting his lip unconsciously in a gesture of concentration. "A mocca coffee, then, right?" he said, raising his tone a little.

"Yes" you replied, avoiding his gaze, shyly, when he shifted it slightly towards you to ask for your name. You set your phone down on the marbled surface of the counter to rummage through your totebag for your wallet. "It's to take here, not to go."

"Oh, then I'll bring it to you at the table when it's ready," he announced, leaning on his forearms to look down at you.

"But..., how much is it?" you asked, confused, the wallet open in your hands, a few coins on your palm.

"It's on the house" he answered you, his dimples accentuating.

The warmth in your cheeks spread across your face, and you made a little bow, knowing that you must have been flushed to your ears. You didn't bother struggling to hide your smile, and hurriedly put away your wallet, grabbing your phone and mumbling some kind of nervous thank you. When you turned around, your face out of Chris's gaze, you sighed, placing your hands on your cheeks to calm down a bit, and looked around for some table to sit at. The one you normally occupied was being used by a girl, but there were few people at that time, so you chose a nearby one, assuming Hyunjin wouldn't mind, and once everything was ready you started to take out the material.

You had brought your laptop, of course, and had printed out some ideas you'd had, sketching in the margins how you intended to cover the visual part 一although that was taken care of by Hyunjin. But you knew he was a bit chaotic, so having a base for what the presentation would look like always came in handy. That day you were going to prepare the theoretical part, in which you were to choose a song and a theme, write a long document stating your reasons, and then prepare a performance in which you would narrate some typical legend of the country through dance. As if you had the mental capacity to create a choreography from scratch at this point of the semester.

You knew it was going to be a relatively short meeting, because you were all out of time, so you entertained yourself looking for songs that would inspire you for the theme you had chosen, the Jeosung Saja. To tell the truth you had no idea about Korean mythology, but you had spent the whole afternoon looking for ideas on the internet and that was the most likely to present a good dance. They were messengers from the afterlife, those who guided the dead to the afterlife. You had read that they were usually represented with a black hanbok, and they also appeared in some dorama that had become famous, so you could develop a dark aesthetic, as Hyunjin liked so much.

You were so engrossed in rereading what you had written on your laptop screen, and in the list of songs recommended by the teacher, that you didn't notice that Chris had left the cup of chocolate on the table. You had to contain the pout you wanted to make, because you were sure he hadn't said anything to avoid disturbing you. It smelled wonderful, and he had left you a plate with a buttery croissant next to the hot chocolate, with a folded paper napkin that read "a mocha for the lovely girl at table 8 :))". Your lips began to curl into a smile as you took the napkin and carefully tucked it away in your planner, unable to stay focused on the music anymore.

Just as you had taken the cup in your hands, the temperature of the porcelain fighting the coldness of your skin, and warming your throat as you tasted it, Hyunjin and Felix entered the room, a chaos of laughter and exclamations, Sunwoo following closely behind, engaged in their conversation. You pretended to wince angrily, frowning and hastily putting the cup down on the table to cross your arms over your chest, giving Hyunjin a dirty look. When the boy noticed your state he hurried to sit next to you, his chin resting on your shoulder, mumbling various apologies about his delay.

"It was my fault, Ynnie," stated Sunwoo, setting his backpack on the table and sitting down across from you. "We were practicing the dance in Professor Park's class and there was a sequence of steps that kept going wrong for me."

"Don't worry, Woo" you replied, snuggling up next to Hyunjin, like always when you were together. "I'm doing it to annoy him."

"And what are you going to complain about if you got your chocolate?" you heard him mutter, picking up the cup to steal a sip from you.

"No thanks to you" you whispered back, taking it from his hands to drink yourself.

"Oooh, come on, don't be like that" he protested, his head resting on your shoulder, rolling his eyes, which managed to snatch some laughter from Felix. At your silence he turned just enough so he could make eye contact with you. "Are you really mad?"

"No."

"But?" he asked, knowing from the way you were that you weren't going to let on how much it had upset you if that had been the case.

"I had a hard time" you muttered, hiding behind your cup. "Neither Felix nor you were here to save me from having to ask for it myself."

"Whose turn was it today?" Sunwoo spoke up, turning to Hyunjin as he pulled out his own laptop.

"Chris" you replied, your cheeks reddening again.

"Oh" Felix said, before cracking a smile that hid how much he was dying to let out a squeal of excitement, "oooh."

"Oh, what?" asked Hyunjin, peeling slightly away from you and frowning in confusion.

"Nothing" you ended the conversation with a warning gesture to Felix, who pretended to run a zipper over his lips, and handed out the printed sheets of paper with the information you had found the previous afternoon, trying to get started on the project. "Well, I had thought about..."

"No, oh, what?" repeated Hyune, completely ignoring the written words and dividing his attention between the freckled boy in front of him and you, "what does he know that I don't?"

"Dude, if you don't know it's because you're just blind" Sunwoo stated, focused on the information, with a gesture of disbelief on his face.

"Guys, please" you requested, avoiding looking at Hyunjin and glancing back down at the sheet. "As I was saying, I had thought of basing our dance on the legend of the Jeosung Saja. You have a summary there, but I'll comment quickly: we can create a story from scratch about someone's death, and have two of us act as the Korean messengers, who let him say goodbye to the love of his life before guiding him to the afterlife, or something like that. I don't have the music yet, but it sounds like a good plan."

"It says here that we'd have to look for some black hanbok" Sunwoo pointed out, as you nodded, and shared a look with you, implying that he approved of the idea, already looking for ways to carry it out.

"Actually, I had thought of something else" Felix muttered, his fingers fiddling with the paper nervously. "Ehm, I read an article yesterday about these... Korean ghosts. They're called Gwisin, and there are four types, like us, there are four of us. There's Cheonyeo, which is the virgin ghost, Mul is the water ghost, Chonggak is the single man ghost, and Dalgyal is the egg ghost. There's only one girl, so it seemed perfect to me. It still has dark aesthetics, because they are wandering spirits of humans who have died with unfinished business, and also to record the dance we can talk to my friend Jake, who is doing a degree in photography and is good with cameras."

"I was going to propose Han or Chris to help us with the music" Sunwoo added, "because with all the time they spend glued to their laptops they're sure to have some track we can use, and we don't even need lyrics."

"Oh, it's actually much better than my idea, Felix" you agreed, closing the tab with the information you had searched for and starting to research about the Gwisin. As you read, you brainstormed, rambling outloud. "We can connect the lives of the four characters, do four solos that blend together, and add minutes of duets until, at the end, all four spirits end up accomplishing the unfinished business they had and do a final scene together"

"Yes!" exclaimed Felix, excited. "Just what I had thought. They've made scary movies about the Gwisin, but we can give it a dramatic twist. The virgin girl was an unrequited love of the water ghost, for example. We're going to have to get a pool to shoot the moment when he dances, you know, when he drowns and dies."

"That can be the start of the dance" proposed Sunwoo.

"I offer it to be me, if you want" said Felix, "I don't mind getting in the pool in December. I have enough experience in cold water, from when I was in Australia."

"Perfect" you affirmed, glad that you had gotten the job on track so well in such a short time. "I think we can go straight back to the studio to prepare the music, what do you think, Hyune?"

He had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout your talk, head resting on the back of the seat and gazing blankly, taking small sips from the cup of hot chocolate, with absent-minded gestures. You could almost see the gears turning in his mind, as he slowly nibbled at the croissant Chris had left for you. There was something that had been bothering him.

"I need a coffee," he muttered, leaving your empty cup on the table and ignoring your question, "would you like another chocolate?"

"Hyune..." you mumbled, confused at his attitude.

"I'll order it to go, don't worry" he added, grabbing his backpack. "I think Han is at home and has the 3racha equipment."

You shrugged as he stood up, and you then began to pick up your laptop and notebook, shoving them into your bag in a hurry to keep up with Felix and Sunwoo, who had hardly had to put anything away. Sunwoo had his own laptop already in the case, and Felix was folding the paper you had printed out, carefully, to tuck it between his notebooks, into his backpack. The three of you headed outside, to wait for Hyunjin, while Felix ran a hand around your waist, trying to coax information out of you.

"So..., Chris, huh?"

"Can we talk about how Hyunjin is mad for talking about it in front of him when he doesn't know anything?" you replied, giving him a loving punch on the arm. "Drop the topic."

"But it's the first time you've talked to him!" he protested, pouting, "I want to know everything!"

"YN is right, Lix," Sunwoo supported you, to which you shot him a grateful look. "Hyunjin is our creative soul and he hasn't blurted out a single word, that says a lot about the situation."

"I'm going to have to tell him about the crush, anyway" you stated, making the decision on the spot, leaning against Felix, "because it's not fair that he doesn't know."

"I don't understand why you haven't told him yet" he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Hyunjin and Chris work together" you explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "and besides, they're close friends."

"So does Felix" Sunwoo reproached, frowning.

"Felix keeps my secrets" you confessed, resting your head on his shoulder with a smile. "Hyune is too much of a gossip to keep that sort of thing to himself."

"If you tell him it's a secret he sure won't let it out" Felix muttered, defending his friend.

You glanced inside the shop, where Hyunjin was leaning against the counter, throwing his head back every time he let out a laugh, while Chris was talking to him, moving fluidly between the machines, preparing the order with expert hands. You couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at his familiarity. You weren't used to feeling this way about your friends, but the way Hyunjin's eyes twinkled at the jokes the barista would drop with a serious gesture and then burst into adorable laughter made you wonder if you hadn't been a little blind to their interactions. You tried not to think too much about it, but you had always had very bad luck with your crushes, something that had only increased your insecurities, and had forced you to keep a low profile on such matters.

"YN?" murmured Felix, one hand caressing your shoulder in an affectionate gesture. "You know he wouldn't say anything, right?"

"I know, it's just..." you lost the thread of your words, absorbed in the scene unfolding behind the glass, Chris reaching for a black marker to write something down on one of the take away cups, Hyunjin too busy searching for his wallet in his backpack to notice.

"Whatever you're overthinking right now isn't true" you heard the freckled blond say, drawing your attention back to him. "It's not the first time you've broken your own heart by heeding unrealistic assumptions you've got stuck in your head. Trust Hyunjin, he would never hurt you on purpose."

"I know," you repeated, turning to face away from the café, but avoiding making eye contact with him, "but I don't... I know and I repeat it to myself, but sometimes I just don't listen, even if it's true."

When you looked up, your eyes beginning to fill with tears you didn't intend to shed, Felix was giving you a look full of understanding. You had few friends as close to your heart as he and Hyunjin, but between Lix and you there had always been a kind of connection built on a common bond, as had been the constant insecurities that only you were able to keep from escalating.

"Let me know when it's like this," he asked, his hand leaving your shoulder and running down your arm until it came to fidget with your fingers, "give me a sign, or look at me. I'll remind you."

You nodded, resting your forehead in the crook of his neck, letting yourself be comforted by his touch, and managed to muster a smile as he tried to give you a hug but your totebag blocked his way. You saw him pout, and you let out a laugh, being interrupted by a shy cough from Sunwoo, who had taken a couple of steps away to give you privacy.

"I'm talking to Han and he asked me what kind of music we're looking for" he explained, pointing to his phone, "in case he can go looking through the songs they have already done or half done, so we don't have to start something new."

"Oh, sure" you said, frowning in a thoughtful gesture. "I'd say something dark, wouldn't you?"

"No doubt" Felix seconded, nodding at your words.

"And since the main choreographer is Hyune, add elegant and heart-wrenching as well" you straightened your figure, watching as Sunwoo typed hurriedly, his fingers speeding over the screen, "if what we're going to narrate is a story of unrequited love, and death, we'd better do something dramatic."

"A hot chocolate!" exclaimed Hyunjin, pushing the door open with his hip, both hands busy with the take away cups. "A hot chocolate for you, and coffee for me."

"Thank you, Hyune" you whispered, leaving a kiss on his cheek as he handed you the cup, again grateful for the warmth emanating from it.

"Looks to me like it has a message, Ynnie" Felix said to you, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, pointing to the letters you could guess under your fingers. You noticed how your cheeks flushed again, moving your hands so you could read all the words, and recognizing Chris's neat handwriting.

"What the hell are you talking about?" exclaimed Hyunjin, rushing over to you to try to read it first. "What does it say?"

"Thought you were really cute, leave my number here" you murmured, starting to crack a big smile, savoring the words as you said them, your heart skipping a beat when you saw that he had drawn a smiley face again and you imagined him, showing his dimples.

Hyunjin had repeated it again aloud, and you heard Felix stifle a gasp, holding his hands to his mouth, his face the vivid image of surprise. Sunwoo had merely let out a laugh and shook his head, as if he didn't believe what had just happened, still holding his phone in his hand. When you looked up, you found disbelief tinting Hyunjin's eyes, one of his hands still holding your arm from when he had rushed to read message over your shoulder.

"Oh," you breathed, causing Felix to snort.

"That's all you're going to say?"

"What do you expect me to say?" you replied, a soft chuckle bubbling up inside you.

"At least say hello to him through the glass," Sunwoo suggested to you, tilting his head in the direction of the café, which was at your back, "the poor guy looks like he wants to turn into a giraffe, from how much he's stretching his neck this way."

You turned your head as soon as you processed what Woo had just said, listening to Hyunjin complaining if that had anything to do with what Felix had said when you had confessed that the barista who had served you was Chris. Just as your friend had said, Chris was resting his hands on the counter, his body almost hovering completely over the surface, trying to figure out what your reaction had been. The moment you made eye contact, and gave him a shy smile, he couldn't help but turn with a jerk, suddenly suddenly busy with a non-existent order.

"Ynnie has a cruush" Felix crooned, causing Hyunjin to open his mouth in a gesture of exaggerated drama that you totally deserved.

"And you weren't planning on telling me anything!" he exclaimed, indignantly.

"She was literally going to tell you now" Sunwoo interjected, helping you balance the tragedy, "but Chris beat you to it."

"I have to tell Changbin" commented Felix, picking up his phone, "now he owes me money."

"You were keeping a bet on them?" asked Hyunjin, pouting. "Did everyone know but me?"

"Hyune, YN doesn't know how to pretend" explained Felix, resting a hand on his shoulder as he reached for Changbin's contact, "Changbin only needed to spend a few minutes with her at the café to figure it out."

While they started a new argument on the topic, you brought the glass to your lips, wanting to taste that drink that you liked so much, and that now that you knew that Chris had prepared it with so much love, it had become your favorite. But as soon as you took a sip and the bitter taste of coffee settled in your mouth, you pushed the glass away, trying to avoid looking into the coffee shop with a confused gesture, and taking the cap off, as if you wanted to make sure that what you had just drunk was definitely not chocolate. But when you breathed in the unmistakable smell of coffee, you noticed how your chest contracted. And suddenly you saw, as if in slow motion, the interaction Chris had had with Hyunjin while you waited, the adoration with which the barista had watched your friend laugh. How he had taken advantage of just when Hyunjin wasn't looking to write the note in his coffee, all those times you had caught them talking and they had fallen silent in your presence. How, yet again, the guy you'd fallen for chose someone else over you, another crush that ended badly, and it pained you to look back and only see a trail of stories in which the only heart that had ended up breaking was yours.

"Hey, let's get going, shall we?" proposed Sunwoo, getting your attention.

You listened as Felix and Hyunjin agreed with him with small nods, but without letting go of their playful bickering, taking off walking towards the apartment where the latter lived with Han Jisung. You had heard them, but all your enthusiasm for the project had vanished, leaving in its place a constant stinging in your eyes, which struggled not to tear up in the middle of the street.

"YN, aren't you coming?" asked Hyunjin, stopping everyone when he realized you weren't with them, that you had stayed behind.

You managed to shake your head, a small movement that was enough to make your friend frown, taking a couple of steps towards you. You tried to compose yourself, ignoring your feelings 一at least for the moment一 and swallowed before formulating the first excuse that came to mind:

"I'm... not feeling too well, guys" you stammered, intensifying your gaze towards Sunwoo, who was the most likely to let you go without asking too many questions.

"But a moment ago you were perfectly fine" Felix muttered, and you noticed his eyes on you, trying to unravel the hidden reasons for your departure.

"I'd rather go home" you said, in a whimper, the warmth of the glass that had comforted you so much a few seconds ago suddenly burning your skin, "you guys can choose the music. It's Lix's idea anyway, it's only fair that he gets to decide."

"Are you sure?" asked Hyunjin, coming up to you, putting the back of his hand on your forehead, like a worried mother would do with her baby.

"Mm-hm" you held out the coffee cup, unable to hold it for much longer, for him to take, and made the mistake of looking at Felix before blurting out a "this is yours" directed at Hyunjin.

You cleared your throat, placing the straps of your totebag more comfortably over your shoulder, and muttered some sort of goodbye before turning and running away, not quite witnessing the way Felix had snatched the cup from Hyunjin to check its contents, and letting out a frustration-laden sigh as he realized what your train of thought had been.

The rest of the afternoon had not been very relevant. You had work to do, like everyone else, and you were also one of those people who wanted to get all your notes done before the Christmas vacations, so you used to spend all December writing again with better caligraphy all the topics you've learned throught the semester. You didn't want to collapse yet, you preferred to keep your head busy, trying to pretend that nothing had happened until you couldn't take any more. In any case, you had already entered that stage where you began to belittle your own thoughts, doubting that your response to the situation had been the right one.

Or, if you stopped to think about it long enough, you could almost see your insecurities swirling around your heart, suffocating you from inside your own chest. That's why you had immersed yourself in the most difficult subjects, praying that filling your head with information would empty it of stupid reasonings. And you had succeeded in your purpose, at least for as many hours as possible, until you heard your phone ring between the couch cushions and snapped out of your self-absorption to answer it.

"Yeah?" you mumbled, your mouth dry from having gone so long without speaking, not paying attention to who was calling you at that hour.

"Ynnie" you heard Felix say, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "How are you?"

"How am I?" you repeated, clearing your throat and straightening your posture, as if he could see you and you had to play the role of carefree teenager. "Fine. Well, stressed about finals, but like everyone else, I guess, right?"

The laugh that escaped your lips without permission sounded too fake, and you closed your eyes, wincing, because you knew it wouldn't be believable. You obviously knew Felix wasn't an idiot. He'd probably realized you'd left for a compelling reason, and not exactly because you'd suddenly been struck by a migraine or a tummy ache. You considered lying and saying that you'd had your period the day before; he knew perfectly well that you had a really bad time the first few days. But it wasn't going to be worth it.

"You know that coffee..." he started to explain, his tone totally serious, as if he was telling you off.

"Stop" you interrupted him, standing up, your notebooks and papers strewn across the table, being ignored, as you paced around the room like a caged lion. "I don't want to talk about it, don't bring it up, please."

On the other end of the line, Felix made eye contact with Hyunjin, who was sitting next to him, listening to the whole conversation, and let out a long sigh, "Okay" he agreed, unable to force the conversation, "but remember what I told you, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever" you whispered, trying to avoid having to give an answer. "Did you call me to talk about that?"

"No, actually" he stated, and your lips curved into a sad smile at the emptiness you felt when you realized he had dropped the subject, just as you had asked. You didn't know if it was relief at not having to deal with the situation, or if you were hurt at how quickly he had given up, "It's about the music for the project."

"Do you guys have the song yet?"

"We need you to choose it," you had spoken practically at the same time, the silence that followed the cacophony of voices heavy on your shoulders, and Felix held his breath, waiting for an answer he didn't know if it would come.

"You can send me an audio of the options Jisung has, can't you?" you asked, hoping your friend wasn't asking what you knew he was going to ask.

"He has them on his laptop" he added, without actually explaining what he intended for you to do.

"Aren't you with him?" you frowned in a confused gesture, not understanding what was going through his head, "can't you ask him to put them on?"

"I'm at my place" he confessed, and you heard the movement of clothes as they brushed against each other, you guessed he had gotten up from wherever he was sitting, "Hyune and I came over after talking to Han because he had to meet his group from his AV Tech class. But he's going to stop by later, in case you wanted to come."

"Ah," you breathed, suddenly understanding. Probably what he wanted was for you to get out of your apartment, perhaps intending that you wouldn't be able to resist the pout on Hyunjin's face when you were told that the coffee scene had been a misunderstanding. You could agree to the former... The latter was more complicated.

"We can order your favorite pizza, and then you can stay over," he proposed, taking the risk that such insistence would push you away, "what do you say?"

You contemplated your options. You could use Seungmin, your roommate, as an excuse, but Felix was capable of texting him to confirm your alibi, and no one could resist Felix. Deep down, you knew you were going to end up going, but for a few seconds you allowed yourself to imagine what you could say to him to get him to leave you alone. You took a breath of air, leaning against the hallway wall, and closed your eyes tightly, trying not to think about how much you could come to regret your decision.

"But you have to promise me one thing," you announced, hearing Hyunjin's celebratory whispers on the other end of the line, "we don't talk about what happened this afternoon. Not today, not ever."

Felix snorted, against the idea, considering another way to approach the conversation to get you to stop thinking about it, but since he had shared with Hyunjin the plan he had developed while Han was showing them his music, and the boy was completely lacking in any kind of censure, he couldn't stop himself from exclaiming, "Okay! But you come!"

Felix heard you mutter a farewell before hanging up, and he stared at his friend with annoyance written all over his face. He knew that, although the way he had said it had sounded suspicious, Hyunjin had done it for everyone's sake, but he couldn't help but give him a murderous glare for not letting him have his way. The boy shrugged, unfazed by his antics, and rose from the bed, arching his eyebrow in his direction, ready to have the last word:

"I hope you time it right and this goes well."

When you arrived, fifteen minutes later, wrapped in a thick coat and one of your colorful scarves, but with your pajamas underneath, the pizzas had already arrived. You saw them on the kitchen counter, filling everything with a delicious aroma of bacon and cheese, when Felix opened the door with a smile. You lifted your backpack with a condescending grimace, implying that you had brought a change of clothes and your overnight kit, agreeing to spend the night in his apartment, and he let out a chuckle that almost managed to break the imperturbable facade with which you had decided to wear.

"Hyune is choosing film" he informed you, helping you take off your coat to hang it in the closet.

You tried to ignore the sting you felt in your chest at the memory of the circumstances under which you had said goodbye to Hyunjin, and promised yourself to make it up to him somehow. He didn't deserve to deal with your feelings like that, not when it wasn't his fault that your crush was onto him. So you headed straight for the small living room, where your friend took up the entire length of the couch thanks to his height, and you threw yourself on top him gently, letting him give you a hug as he chuckled awkwardly, his lungs taking in less air than they let out thanks to the extra weight of your body on top of his.

"What do you have in mind?" you asked him, looking at the television screen, and the endless possibilities the audiovisual platform offered.

"I haven't really chosen between Alice in Wonderland and Nightmare Before Christmas" he acknowledged, following your gaze, locating the second one he had mentioned in the bottom corner.

"Mmm, which of the Alice versions are we talking about?"

"The first one" he told you, "the live action one."

"Oh, put that one on, please" you asked, trying to adopt your best pleading face, pouting in the same way you had seen Felix do so many times. You watched as he erased what he had written on the browser and followed your instructions, while you basked in the warmth of the fabric of his hoodie against your cheek, and his arm across your back. You could have stayed there, half asleep, for the rest of the semester, for the rest of the year even, if it hadn't been for how loud the bell had been when it rang, Hyunjin straining underneath you.

"That must be Jisung" you surmised, getting up much to your dismay, "I'll go open the door."

Felix was too busy in the kitchen, hands full of brownie batter, so you walked down the hallway back to the front door, peeking through the peephole to make sure it was Han on the other side. But your breath caught as you recognized the features of the barista you'd seen just hours earlier at 5STAR. You opened your eyes wide, not knowing how to react, and peeked into the kitchen to ask Felix. To your surprise, he was already watching, confirming to you, as soon as you saw his apologetic smile, that this was all his doing.

You decided not to say a single word, and focus on calming your racing heart before facing an interaction with Chris again. The doorbell rang again, jolting you out of your self-absorption with a scare, and you hurried to unlock the door, opening it with a smile that you liked to think it was normal.

"Hello" you said to him, proud that your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

"Oh" he breathed, his surprised eyes roaming over your features, "hi." You saw him flash a beautiful smile, and raise his hand to wave at you, as if he were a little boy excited to meet a new friend. "The lovely girl from table 8."

"That's me" you replied, opening the door wider so he could come in, "thank you for inviting me to the chocolate, I don't know if the croissant was tasty or not because Hyunjin ate it, but I bet it was."

Mentioning your friend's name just to see how he reacted had been a pathetic move, but you hadn't been able to stop yourself. If you could turn back time you would have bitten your tongue, though, after watching his ears blush at your words, proving you right. You swallowed the knot in your throat when you heard his giggles, and he walked into the apartment, taking off his coat.

"I wouldn't say it's my best recipe, but thanks for the confidence" he commented to you, and you took his coat, just as Felix had done with you, to hang it in the closet. You tried not to make it too obvious the way you checked that he was still wearing his café uniform, the sleeves of the black t-shirt tracing his arms. "I'll have to let you try it on another time, then, so you can give me your opinion."

You gave him a strained smile, standing there in the middle of the hallway, and when you saw Hyunjin poke his head out the living room door to see what was going on, you indicated to Chris that Felix was in the kitchen by pointing him to the room, and seizing the opportunity when he went to greet his friend to return to Hyunjin, sitting with your back straight against the backrest, pulling your legs up until your knees were pulled up to your chest.

"You guys are a bunch of assholes" you whispered, staring at the TV screen, not really seeing anything.

"You know how Felix is" Hyunjin answered you, resting his head on your shoulder in an affectionate gesture.

"How am I going to...?"

"YN!" exclaimed Felix going to his room, "Take care of putting the brownies in the oven, please!"

"Oh, my God, I'm going to kill him" you muttered, closing your eyes tightly and dropping your head against the couch.

"Fighting" your friend said to you, giving you a sad smile and a small kiss on your cheek.

You let out a long sigh before getting up, and started to look for Felix around the part of the apartment where you thought his voice had come from, to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. You guessed he was in the bathroom, the sound of running water audible from outside, and knocked on the door.

"Yes?"

"Lixie, you know I love you very much" you began, taking a breath to start to tell him off all the decisions he had made so far in his face.

"I know I'm not your favorite person right now, Ynnie," you heard him speak, his voice muffled by the water, so you assumed he was taking a shower, "but there was an incident with the chocolate and I stained everything. Chris is trying to fix it, but I needed to take a shower."

"How much time do I have to set the brownies for?" you asked, surrendering, your shoulders tensing at the thought. The sooner you accepted that you weren't going to get out of interacting with your crush and Hyunjin at the same time, the sooner the night would pass and the sooner you could get back to your normal life.

"I've already left the temperature on! It's only twenty minutes!" he exclaimed, "You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever" you muttered, retracing your path to the kitchen, only to find Chris rummaging through the cupboards. "What... what are you doing?"

The boy startled, jumping a little on the spot, and banging his forehead against the corner of the door, which made you choke back a scream and run to him, your hand pressing down over his in the area of the bump and you reacted with a startled "Are you okay? Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" to his whine.

"It's okay, really" he answered you, fully flushed, suddenly aware of how close you were to him.

"No, no, it's not okay at all" you affirmed, taking a couple of steps backwards looking for the fridge with your eyes, only to bend down to grab some ice cubes from the freezer and wrap them in a clean cloth, approaching him again. You grabbed his wrist gently and removed his hand from his forehead, assessing the damage before resting the wrapped ices carefully over the bump. "You sure have a terrible impression of me."

"That's not true" he whispered, cracking a small smile, avoiding your gaze out of embarrassment.

"I'm terribly sorry, really" you repeated, unable to say anything else.

"It could have happened to anyone, don't worry."

"What were you doing, anyway?" you asked, your hands still busy, one with the ice and the other one with your fingers closed around his wrist. When you noticed, you tried to direct him to take the cloth himself.

"From what Felix explained to me, he was so nervous he must have mixed something wrong, and then I don't know how he did it but he ended up with half the batter all over his shirt and arms," he explained to you, leaning on the counter, "I was trying to find chocolate to make it better. I'm not the best pastry chef, but working in the café has taught me something."

You looked over to where the bowl Felix had used was, and saw next to it the mixer you had bought him for his birthday, a few drops of mixture on the surface and more on the floor.

"It was his first time using that mixer" you assumed, trying to stifle a chuckle, "I'm sure he miscalculated the power and it blew all over."

The laughter Chris let out was music to your ears, and when you turned to look at him you realized how close you were to him. There were barely inches between you, and your legs were practically intertwined. You cleared your throat, parting slightly, and made eye contact with him, letting yourself be absorbed by his tiny brown eyes, which matched his dimples, narrowed into two crescent moons.

"There's no more chocolate, by the way" he told you, remembering why you were in that situation.

"I can go out and buy more" you solved, fully intending to go grab your wallet and leave, realizing how whipped you were for him.

"No way, it's my thing, I should go" he rebutted, massaging his forehead from time to time.

"You're hurt" you pointed out, looking for more reasonings, "you're not going to beat me if you pick a fight with me over this".

"Oh, believe me I am" he replied, leaving the ice cubes on the counter and heading for the hallway, "you do what you want but I'm going to get dessert somewhere."

"Then you're not going alone."

You left him looking for his coat in the closet as you went to tell Hyunjin what you were going to do, your friend still lying on the couch scrolling through his phone, probably on TikTok. His face was the mirror of pure surprise and disbelief, before he grinned mischievously. You rolled your eyes and turned your back on him, leaving him there and grabbing your own phone on the way, meeting Chris in front of the door. He had your coat in his hands, and helped you put it on. You then made sure you had your spare keys in your pocket and walked out of the apartment.

"Not to put you down, but... you are aware that you're in your pajamas, right?" asked Chris, his ears blushing as he realized it, slyly tracing the curves of your hips.

"Yeah, it's okay," you said, oblivious, making a nonchalant gesture, "it's not the first time I've done this."

"Where do you plan to go?" you heard him coming down the stairs behind you.

"There's a bakery a couple of blocks from here that closes pretty late, so we'll get there on time" you explained, leading him out of the building.

"So it really isn't the first time you do this" he confirmed, a soft giggle escaping his lips.

"Yeah, it's pretty fun" you said, remembering all the times you'd done it, more than once with your friends, rain or shine, "it's closer to Hyunjin's house, so we usually go from there, but yeah."

"Oh, you guys seem pretty close" he commented.

You tried not to let your wince show, not understanding why you always ended up mentioning the dancer in your conversations with Chris. The time was approaching when he would start asking you questions about Hyunjin to find out more about him, and you didn't know if you would be able to handle it.

"Yes, we have been together for a long time" you confirmed, trying to reveal as little information as possible, "he is someone very dear to me".

"Whenever I see you you're with him" he continued, his shoulder brushing next to yours, "at the café, I mean".

"He's the one in charge of ordering the chocolate for me" you confessed, changing the subject. "You make great chocolate, by the way. I couldn't tell you today, you dropped it off and left."

"You were so focused I didn't want to disturb you" he acknowledged, letting out a soft laugh.

"I guessed as much" you affirmed, noticing the streets you were passing instead of glancing sideways at him, as you were dying to do, "I also noticed the napkin."

"The nap...? Oh!"

"Yeah, oh," you repeated, your laughter awakening butterflies in his stomach, "people don't usually flirt with me like that."

"Fli- ehem, flirt?" he stammered, his face suddenly red with shyness. He hadn't expected you to be so direct with the subject.

"Well, not flirting," you corrected yourself, realizing your mistake, "but you have a lot of rizz."

"You're not the first one to tell me that" he nodded, clearing his throat, "my sister calls me Chrizztopher to mess with me."

"I like your sister, then" you acknowledged, reordering your thoughts to figure out how to phrase your question, and find out finally if you were going crazy or you were just insecure, "but... well, not that I'm complaining, but you still shouldn't waste it on me."

"Waste it? On you?" the conversation was losing all meaning to him, his brow furrowing more and more in confusion.

"Yeah, you know" you tried to explain, trying not sounding as bad as you felt, "focus it all on the person you like, instead of random girls."

"But... I'm already doing that" he protested, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, halting your walk, "the chocolate...".

"The hot chocolate was nice of you, but I'm talking about Hyunjin."

"What the hell does Hyunjin have to do with you?" he exclaimed, incredulous.

"With me?" you asked, your heart stopping at the possibility his words were offering you. "But... the message in the coffee, wasn't it for Hyunjin?"

"What message?" you were looking into each other's eyes, for the first time without any shyness on either side, both trying to understand each other.

"The message on the coffee cup that said you thought Hyunjin was cute" you replied, shoving your hands in your coat pockets, fiddling with your phone case to calm your nerves. "The one with you phone number".

"Did I write the message on the wrong cup?" he lamented, unable to believe his bad luck.

"The wrong cup?" you repeated, unable to process what was happening.

"I've had a crush on you since you first walked into the café" he stated, deciding to tell his biggest secret just so he could make it clear what was going on.

"What?"

"I... Yeah, there's not much more to say" his nervous laugh snapped you out of your shock, blinking to look at him again, this time with a clearer mind. "There's not a thing about you I don't like."

The silence that settled between you, you running your eyes over his features, your heart pounding, him not knowing if it would be a good idea to approach you, or if you needed space at that moment, waiting with his breath caught in his throat, not knowing if his feelings were reciprocated or not. You raised one of your hands, rubbing your forehead, unsure of how to interact after his confession. You decided to clear your throat and let the words flow, after all, even if you made a fool of yourself, it couldn't get any worse.

"Me too" you paused, still hearing your heart thudding in your chest, and then continued, "I have a crush, I mean. On you, yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah" you confirmed, more at ease, moving closer to him.

Chris took the initiative and intertwined one of his hands with one of yours, looking at you softly and warmly, his smile provoking the same reactions from you as before, but now with the reassurance of knowing you weren't the only one who felt this way.

"What do you recommend from the bakery then?" he asked, taking you by the waist to continue walking beside you, both of you embracing each other.

And before you even answered you knew you would buy anything he asked for, even if you didn't like it, even if he didn't verbalize his desire to buy it. Only because you were as head over heels for him, as he was for you.

☆ series masterlist !!

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