#{ It's tough to be not be chirpy }

[watchmegetobsessed]

MISTAKEN HATRED

A/N: okay im veeery nervous about this one bc its the longest story i've written in probably months and it took me sooo long to finish it so im just praying its not utter shit 🙃 anywaysss, happy holidays guys! it's not overly festive, but it has some vibes so im labeling it as my xmas fic haha feedback is always appreciated! 🎄

WORD COUNT: 6.3k

SUMMARY: Things don't go as smooth as you planned with your bakery's opening, but you're doing your best to overcome the struggles. However there is one person who is hating on your business as if it was his job: Harry Styles. You just wish you knew what you did to earn his hatred...

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This is not how you imagined the last weeks before your official opening. 

You imagined the interrior to be fully done by now so you can focus on the last touches, ordering the right ingredients and promoting the opening.

Instead, you’re staring at what’s supposed to be your eight tables, intact and put together but it’s all in pieces. You specifically remember the website said they would deliver them done and you wouldn’t have to play puzzles. But they arrived six days late and very much not the way they promised. 

Taking a deep breath you stare up at the ceiling and decide to take the trash out before turning your bakery into Ikea.

“It’s alright. I can do this. I can do anything,” you keep telling yourself as you drag out the trash bags that are almost the size of you. 

You knew opening your own business would be tough. Especially in Eroda, the little town you have some of your earliest memories from, where your grandma used to live, the place that was closest to her heart and it breaks yours to know she couldn’t spend her last years here because she was too sick to live on her own. 

She never asked you to come back here, but the moment you found her recipe books the summer after she passed, you just knew what you had to do. Now it’s been three years and you’re finally opening Nana’s that will bring her warmth and love back to Eroda, or you hope so. 

Pushing the door open with your shoulder, you keep dragging the bags to the containers behind the small shop and you’re so deep in your thoughts you don’t even notice the two people just a couple of feet away.

“Hi, Love!”

You recognize Anne’s sweet, chirpy voice and a smile spreads across your face even before you look up, but the moment you see the person standing next to her, all joy just drains from your body. 

Harry Styles is standing as grouchy and arrogant as always next to his mother, hands hidden in the pockets of his fleece jacket, his unruly curls are tucked underneath his beanie and any normal woman would be into the man, but you. Not after he very clearly let you know you don’t belong here and you should take your business back to the city where you came from. 

You expected some resistance, not much has changed in town in the past decades and you had a feeling some might want to keep it that way, but you guessed older people would riot against your bakery, not a thirty years old grown man. 

“Hi Anne,” you smile back and mustering up all your strength you throw one of the bags into the bin, but you overestimated your muscle work, because it only falls to the edge and almost topples right out. Luckily, you grab it just in time and push it in.

“Oh, dear, those bags are bigger than you! Harry, help her!” 

“No, it’s alri–” 

Before you get to protest, Harry strides over to you and grabs the remaining two bags as if they weighed nothing and throws them into the bin without breaking a sweat. 

Of course he is fit, the man probably runs up the hill carrying twice his weight every morning, because that’s how you can imagine him working out. 

Though you shouldn’t be imagining anything about him.

“Thanks,” you purse your lips and square your shoulders as you face the two of them.

“How is everything coming together?”

Anne has been so enthusiastic about your bakery, she comes around probably every other day, checks in on your progress and always offers her help. 

“Um, it is… okay, I guess,” you let out a tired chuckle. Glancing over at Harry you see him looking to the side, as if he wasn’t even listening, but something is telling you he is very much focused on the conversation.

Yeah, that’s right, I’m still here! Not even your arrogance can chase me away!

Anne cranes her neck, peeking into the shop and she spots the pile in the middle.

“Oh, are you planning to put those together by yourself? Harry, why don’t you help her?”

The moment she suggests, you both protest.

“No, there’s no need.”

“Mum, I don’t really have the time,” he says at the same time, but it doesn’t seem to go through. Anne’s phone starts ringing and she excuses herself, leaving the two of you there. 

Great, this is all you were missing today, an awkward, forced situation with the man who wants to see you gone. Perfect.

“Should’ve ordered them done, don’t you think?” he speaks up, nodding towards the shop.

At first, you just blink at him, then close your eyes and when you open them, you have the fakest smile on your twitching face.

“What a wonderful idea! I totally did not think of that!”

“Then send them back and ask them to bring what you ordered.” He rolls his eyes and it’s irking you so much. You definitely don’t need his stupid advices, not when you’re terribly behind your schedule.

“They arrived almost a week later than they should have, if I send them back there’s now ay they will send me the new ones in time for the opening.”

Harry stands there, staring at the pile of furniture pieces inside and for a moment you think he might actually offer his help, which you’re not sure you’d have accepted, but it remains a mystery, because that’s not what he says when he speaks up.

“I’m busy for real. Mum likes to offer my help around without asking me.”

It takes you a couple of moments to figure out what you feel about what he just said. And when you finally do, you see red.

“As I said, I don’t need help. I did everything by myself and I will get this done as well. I don’t need your unwanted, half-assed effort to pretend like you’re helping me.”

You come off rougher than you probably should have, but he’s been bugging you ever since you moved to Eroda. The man knows nothing about you or your business, yet every time he comes near your shop he acts like it physically pains him to even look at it. He’d be the last person you’d ask for help, he doesn’t have to act like he has so much to do and doesn’t have the time to help when he doesn’t actually want to help. 

Harry stares at you with such intensity you almost break and stutter a sorry out, but that’s when Anne returns.

“Ah, we have to run. But I will come by tomorrow, Darling. And Harry can hel–”

“No need for help,” you smile at her as gratefully as you can force yourself to be in this moment. 

“Alright, then see you later,” she waves and you nod at her before your eyes meet Harry’s one last time before they walk away and you return to your shop. 

It takes you six hours to assemble the tables later that day, but you do it.

With no help. 

Moving to Eroda, it hasn’t been your only goal to have your business become part of the town but you also knew you’d have to become one of the locals as well. Only a handful of people know who your grandmother was and you don’t plan to reveal it until the opening. You want them to taste all the baked goods and think of her first and then put the picture together. But this means you’re a total newbie for most people around. Last time you spent more than just a day here was when you were sixteen and you’ve changed a lot since then, so it’s natural people don’t recognize you. 

Anne has been your biggest help in breaking the ice and involving you in as many things as possible so you get to meet the people of Eroda. The weeks leading up to Christmas are usually filled with all kinds of winter activities locals enjoy wholeheartedly. Concert by the town hall, decorating the trees at the main square, collecting donations and cooking for those in need for example. You’ve been to all of these and very much enjoyed being part of the community. This weekend however, you can’t say you’re looking forward to the new festive activity.

Ice-skating on the frozen lake.

It sounds nice and fun, but you’ve ice-skated only once in your life and ended up breaking your wrist. Not your favorite childhood memory for sure and you don’t exactly want to relive it as an adult. 

You arrive with the intention of just sipping some hot tea and watch everyone else skate around until your fingers are falling off and you can go back to the shop to finish putting up the tinker lights at the back. 

Anne however had different ideas about today. Because as soon as you arrive at the lake, she is waving at you, holding up a pair of skates and you know they are not hers, because she’s already wearing those. 

“Kick those boots off, Love, I brought you my old skates! Come join us!” She smiles brightly at you from next to the pier where people get on and off the ice. 

“Oh, no, I don’t skate, Anne, but thank you!”

“Don’t be silly, even Bernie is on the ice!” She nods towards the old man who must be at least eighty, sliding on the ice as if he did this all his life. He might have, you have no idea.

“It’s really not for me, I–”

“Just try it! Come on!” 

She drops the skates by your feet and then slides away, leaving you no chance to protest.

Staring down at the skates, you can feel your stomach churning, but as you look up you see that literally everyone is on the ice, you’d look weird standing on the pier on your own. 

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you give in and sitting down you start peeling your boots off your feet. 

“You’ll break your ankle if you leave it that loose.”

You know the voice and it just adds to your stress even more. You see his black skates in front of you as you’re trying to lace your own up.

“Hi Harry, so good to see you again,” you hiss through your teeth. 

“Tighten it or you’ll fall.”

“I’ll fall either way,” you mumble as you go back and pull the laces tighter. When you’re done you straighten up, but remain sitting on the end of the pier, anxiously string down at your feet. Harry doesn’t speak, but you know he is still there, probably watching you, trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, why you’re not just standing up and going at it like everyone else. 

Your hands are holding onto the wood underneath you for dear life as you picture yourself finally moving, but you never get to actually acting. 

“Do you need help standing up?” Harry speaks up at last and his voice is different this time. It’s not as arrogant, maybe even concerned. Do you look that awful right now?

“N-No.” Your voice cracks and you hate that it’s him who sees you like this. 

“Doesn’t seem like–”

“Would you stop being an asshole for a moment?” you snap at him and finally look up, eyes meeting his examining gaze. You have no idea what he sees in yours, but a few seconds later he breaks eye-contact, looks around as if he is hesitating before he sits beside you at last.

“You don’t have to skate if you don’t want to.”

“Tell that to your mother,” you mumble under your breath and it makes him laugh.

The sound of it is actually nice, surprising, but nice to hear something other than insults coming from his mouth.

“She can be a bit too much, but she’s just too enthusiastic.” You sit in silence for a bit before Harry turns to you. “You really don’t have to skate.”

“I want to take part, I just… I broke my wrist on the ice once when I was a kid and I haven’t tried skating since then.”

You didn’t plan on telling him much, but you felt like you had to explain why you’re being so dramatic. Part of you is expecting him to make fun of you for being scared of skating because of something that happened ages ago, but the arrogant comments never come.

Instead he stands up and when you look up at him he is holding a hand out to you.

“I’ll help you. You won’t fall.”

Any other day you’d think he is plotting against you, that he would get you to trust him and the trip you the first chance he got, but not this time. He looks and sounds genuine and as you take his hand, you put way too much trust into them than you would have ever allowed yourself to. 

You hold onto him with both hands and he keeps you steady as you finally attempt to push yourself up from the edge of the pier. Your knees wobble the moment your weight is on the blades and you instantly feel yourself losing balance, but Harry’s hands wrap around your arms and keep you from falling.

“It’s okay. Relax a bit, you’ll find your balance.” He encourages you and it’s almost strange to hear him so supportive of anything you’re doing, but not breaking your neck keeps you too busy to care about his random act of kindness. 

“Try to move forward.”

“I can’t,” you protest without even trying.

“You can, just relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, it’s not gonna help me relax!”

“Y/N, you’re gonna have a panic attack if you don’t relax,” he warns you and you realize how fast you’re breathing and all your blood is being pumped into your head. 

“I-I can’t, I can’t do this, I–”

“Y/N, look at me!” His hands snap to your shoulders and you grab onto his biceps as you look him in the eyes while your chest is still heaving. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re not going to fall. I’m holding you, I promise.”

Focusing on his words you finally forget about your fears and instead, you’re now trying to figure out where this version of Harry came from and why he hid from you all along. 

You’re not one to trust people that easily, but just from this one promise he made, you let go of all your doubts and hesitation. 

“Okay,” you breathe out. Harry nods and his hands slowly slide lower until they rest on your waist. 

“You knew how to skate, right? Before you broke your wrist.” You nod. “Alright, then it will all come back quickly.”

There’s a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his lips and your heart pitter-patters in your chest, but not because of the skating this time. His hands on you are not helping either, because for some reason, you feel heat radiating through the millions of layers you’re wearing where his hands are touching you. 

What is happening?

“Okay, I’ll hold your hand and you just focus on moving forward, yeah?”

You nod and panic rises in your gut for a moment when his hands leave your shoulders, but then they instantly take your hands and you feel safe again. 

Slowly you start moving, inching forward, your hands gripping Harry’s so tight, you’re afraid you might hurt him, but you’d never let go of him, not when you’re getting farther away from the pier. 

“That’s it, you are doing great,” he encourages. “Try to move a bit less rigidly.”

“Easy to say that,” you breathe out shakily. 

It takes time to loosen up even the tiniest bit and not grip Harry’s hand as if you wanted to crush his bones. But as you slowly move around the ice, led by him, you finally get more and more familiar with the feeling of sliding on the ice. 

“See? It’s not that bad,” he smiles when you stop for a short break after circling back to the pier. 

“I still fear for my life, but it’s bearable now,” you nod and he just chuckles.

It looks good on him. His smile is warm and welcoming, it’s a shame it took you so long to see it. You definitely prefer this version of him. 

“Honey, it’s so lovely to see you on the ice!” Anne slides over to you with ease, holding a cup of something warm, probably hot chocolate. 

“Well, it’s not quite my element,” you let out an awkward chuckle.

“You’re doing just fine. Besides, you just snatched up the best skater in town.” Winking, she bumps her hip against Harry’s. Your puzzled look urges her to elaborate. “Harry took over coaching the boys’ hockey team last year, the kids adore him!”

Instantly, you imagine Harry dealing with a bunch of cute kids, cheering on them, teaching them, making them laugh… The image is actually moving something inside you that’s been buried somewhere deep for a while now.

“Y/N, how are things coming together? Everyone is buzzing for the big opening!” Anne does a little dance that makes you laugh, but at the same time, something changes in Harry. 

“Um, it’s going okay. Not how I planned, but I’ll manage.”

“I’m sure everything will fall into place perfectly. And if you need any help just let us know!” She turns to Harry, looking for validation that he is open to lending you a helping hand as well, but his reaction is not quite what she was expecting, probably. 

“Sorry, I gotta go now,” Harry mumbles quickly, his gaze obviously avoiding you or his mother and he skates away so fast you just blink after him. 

“What’s gotten into this boy?” Anne huffs, but she lets go of it fast, starts chatting about something you don’t quite catch, because you just stare after Harry, watching him slalom between the skaters so fast it’s almost aggressive. 

And once again, you feel like you’re back where you began. He hates you and you have no idea what you did against him. 

Theoretically, opening Nana’s two weeks before Christmas was a great idea, because you imagined all the baked goods people would order for the holidays, you knew it would be a great kick start.

Realistically, it means that now you have to do the last touch ups in the harsh winter that’s as cold as the North Pole. Or at least that’s how you imagine the North Pole.

It’s been non stop snowing for the past three days, the fresh, soft looking snow is now covering every bit of Eroda’s breathtaking view and though it’s very festive and nice to look at it from a warm room with something hot to drink, it’s not as relaxing when you’re still working on the bakery, doing the last bits of decorating and starting the first batches of baked goods, because in 24 hours, Nana’s is officially opening its front door to the public. 

You’ve been here since five in the morning, now it’s four in the afternoon but it’s almost entirely pitch dark outside so it feels like it’s nearing ten. The place is not a mess anymore, but the kitchen is, there’s all kinds of dough everywhere, you’re doing everything you can now so there’s less tomorrow, but even with all the work tonight you’ll be here at five in the morning again tomorrow. 

It’s been hours since the last time you looked out the window, so it fully goes over your head how heavy the snowfall has gotten lately, chasing home every soul from the streets. While you’re covered in flour and keep muttering Nana’s recipes to make sure everything is measured right, there is one more person out there who is still not home, battling the weather. 

Harry has been going around town all day, helping out the elderly with either delivering groceries, or repairing the heating, whatever they needed a helping hand with. He’s usually the person one calls in Eroda when something needs to be fixed.

The roads are now not quite safe to be driving around, but with his jeep he’ll be able to get home just before it gets too bad. Or so the thought, but that is until he drives by the bakery and sees the lights on.

At first he keeps driving, telling himself it’s not his business. But the farther he gets the guiltier he feels and then he turns the car around.

You’re too busy to hear the knocking at first, but then you hear it again and know it wasn’t just in your head. Rushing out of the kitchen you stop in front of the door, because through the glass you make out Harry standing there, the snow already covering the top of his head as if he’s been out there for hours. 

“It’s freezing out here, Y/N! Would be nice if you let me in!” he shouts through the glass and you finally snap out of your surprise, unlock the door and Harry practically runs inside. 

“What are you doing here?” You watch him shake the snow off of him and finally turn towards you. For a moment you forget about how you parted ways at the skating, how cold he turned out of the blue after helping you. 

“Funny, I wanted to ask you the same thing. There’s a snowstorm out there, you won’t be able to get home if you stay here!”

“Are you kidding me? I’m opening tomorrow, I have a million things to finish!”

“So you’re risking getting snowed in? Were you planning to sleep here or something?”

“Maybe! Yeah! I need to get a ton of dough ready and I still haven’t put up the tinker lights and I need to clean up…”

Harry stares at you with such a vivid look, you expect him to start screaming at you or something. But he just keeps staring until he finally breaks.

“Okay, where are the lights and where do you want them?”

“What?”

“You’ll spend the night here if you do everything alone. I’ll help and hopefully we’ll be able to leave when it’s all done.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him as he is looking around, searching for the lights to start working, but you can’t really believe he is about to help you out when he could be home by now. On the other hand, you could really use the help and maybe finish earlier than midnight, so after pushing your surprise to the side you start instructing him. While Harry works on the lights, you return to the kitchen. 

To test out the dough for the croissants, the one thing you’re the most nervous about because it used to be Nana’s specialty, you decide to make a few and pop them in the oven while you do everything else. 

It’s hard to believe you’re finally at this point, so close to the opening, turning your biggest dream into reality. You wish Nana would be here with you today.

“Lights are done.”

Harry interrupts your thoughts and you wipe your floury hands into your apron before following him out of the kitchen to see the work he did.

“Oh my God, this looks perfect!” you gasp, seeing all the tinker lights run along the ceiling and walls, lighting up the place like magic. 

Harry just nods, pressing his lips together, as if it was nothing. 

“Anything else?” he asks.

“Yeah, I have a few pictures I want to hang up and then it’s all done–” The timer in the kitchen goes off, letting you know the croissants are done. “Let me take them out and then I’ll show you where I want them.”

You rush back to the kitchen and take the fresh, steaming croissants out of the oven, completely missing that Harry has followed you and he is now watching you curiously as you take the baked goods off the tray one by one.

“That smells like…” he speaks up, but the words die on his tongue and you just smile, placing one onto a plate, holding it out for him.

“Here, try it.”

He hesitates, but takes the plate at last. Though it’s still hot and he should definitely wait a bit, it’s hard to resist, you know that. You watch him take a tentative bite and wait for his reaction as if he is about to tell you your future. 

“So? How is it?”

“It’s… it’s really… good. Really good.”

It’s obvious he is having a hard time admitting you did something right, but his face says it all. You just don’t understand why he looks kind of puzzled, but you think it’s just because he didn’t expect it to be this good. 

“I bet the croissants will be the bestsellers,” you chuckle as Harry takes bite after bite until it’s all gone. He devoured it so fast it’s incredible. You couldn’t help but focus on his pink lips while he ate and those tiny sounds he let slip… they surely planted some thoughts into your head, thoughts you shouldn’t be thinking of when it comes to Harry.

“Come on, I’ll show you the pictures.” It’s your attempt to clear your mind.

You walk out and grab the box that holds all the framed pictures you want to hang on the walls, of course, all of them feature Nana. 

“Okay, so I thought a few could go over here, and then on that wall as well, and these, I want them behind the counter…” You start explaining your vision, but when you turn around you see that he is staring at a photo in shock. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

You step closer and see that it’s the photo that was taken on your tenth birthday. You’re holding up one of the cupcakes Nana made just for you and she is standing behind you, with her hands on your shoulders. It’s a fond memory, one of your favorite birthdays you ever had. 

“Oh, is it the dungarees?” you ask, pointing at your outfit. “I wasn’t quite the fashion icon back then,” you chuckle.

“No, it’s– who’s this?” he asks, pointing at Nana. You give him a puzzled look, because it’s not rocket science to figure out who the woman in the picture is.

“That’s Nana, obviously.”

“But as in… your grandma?” He finally looks up at you and his face is frantic, as if he is solving a lifelong mystery. 

“Of course, Harry, what is goin–”

“Y/N, Nana was your grandma?”

“Yes!” you laugh in confusion. “Of course she was, that’s why I’m opening a bakery under her name with all her recipes she taught me!”

You can’t read the look on Harry’s face as he puts the photo back into the box and then starts walking around with his hands on his hips. 

“Why do you look like you just learned you were adopted or something?”

“Y/N, I didn’t… I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“That you’re… Nana’s granddaughter. I had no clue.” He runs a hand through his hair and you try your best not to stare at how his bicep flexes in the movement. 

“What? Harry, why else would I be opening a bakery, named Nana’s right here, out of every possible place on Earth?”

“I don’t know!” he admits, throwing his hands into the air. “That’s why I… Okay, this is why I hated the idea so much. Because I knew Nana, I loved her! She was like… my grandma too! And I thought you just chose this name for fun!”

“Are you kidding me?” you huff in disbelief.

“I felt like you were ruining her memory, that’s why I was so against this place. I had zero clue that you are actually… related to her.”

“Oh my God, Harry!” There’s nothing else you can do other than just… laughing. This whole situation feels oddly comical, like something that only happens in movies. 

“I know, I’m sorry!” He exhales sharply and you truly see the regret on his face. “I was such a dick.”

“Yes you were!” you laugh in agreement. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well, now at least I know why you were my biggest hater all along.”

“Not anymore!” He holds up his hands and finally breaks a smile that looks so fucking handsome, it makes you forget about everything in a second. 

Turning to the side he stares out the window for a moment before looking back at you.

“The snowing has stopped, let’s wrap things up and go home, alright? Big day tomorrow.”

You both go back to work, Harry finishes quite fast with the pictures so then he helps you clean up in the kitchen and you notice how obviously different the vibes are now. There’s no trace of his usual hostile behavior, in fact he is so open as he asks you about Nana and how the idea of the bakery came. Then he tells you about her as well, how he has known him for so long and after the passing of his stepdad Nana helped him through the toughest time of his life. You’re surprised the two of you never met when you were visiting, but you believe in faith and it must be because it wasn’t the right time. 

It’s almost ten by the time you’re locking up while Harry is scraping the snow off his jeep. It’s rather eerie to see the town so empty, but it’s also pretty, the untouched snow covering every inch of the scenery. 

“Thanks for the help. And the drive home,” you say when he has parked in front of your house. 

“I’ll pick you up in the morning as well.”

“What? There’s no need, Harry–”

“Just accept the help,” he flashes you a crooked smile. “I have a lot to make up for.”

“What if I say you’re forgiven?”

“Then I’ll do it because I want to spend time with you.”

His answer comes so fast and honest, you can’t mask the surprise on your face as you stare at each other in the dark car.

“Um, alright then. See you in the morning.”

“Good night. Y/N.”

You fumble with the belt and then climb out of the car, still feeling kind of giddy from his words. He waits for you to get to the front door and you wave at him before walking in. Through the closed door you hear the engine roar and he drives away, leaving you with quite a lot to digest.

Never in a million years did you imagine the opening of Nana’s to be like this. The small bakery is full to the brim, there are people everywhere, you haven’t stopped thanking everyone for the love and support and your heart leaps in your chest every time you hear someone talk about your beloved grandma. All the pastries are selling well, but as expected, the croissants are the biggest hit. 

But it’s not just the opening that has you smiling ear to ear.

Harry did show up early in the morning and he’s been helping you out all day as if he was getting paid for his work. In the kitchen, at the counter or by the tables, he’s been a one person army and your hero. You couldn’t have done it without him. 

You have just a couple of seconds to breathe between two customers and you peek over the crowd, spotting him right away by the table his mom and her friends occupy. He just made them laugh and he’s basking in their attention as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing his tattooed arms. 

Fuck, he looks so good, it’s criminal. 

Now that he is not an asshole to you anymore, it’s pretty hard not to notice everything you’ve been trying to ignore about him. His charming dimples, his bouncy curls, the way he throws his head back when he laughs, how his nose moves when he talks, they was his hips sway when he’s walking… there is not one inch on the man you can critique.

The situation would be a lot worse if it was one-sided, but it appears that Harry is just as keen on being around you, always touching your lower back when he walks behind you, or brushing your arm to get your attention. 

“I’m seriously writing you a paycheck when it’s over,” you tell him when he returns behind the counter grabbing some cinnamon rolls to bring to the ladies by the window.

“I thought that we were already over this, Y/N,” he smirks and you bite into your bottom lip as you turn back to the customer in front of you. 

It kind of goes by in a blur, there’s so much happening, you’re always on the move and before you could even process the events, the day is over and Nana’s is closing for the first time. After the constant crowd, it’s weird to see the place empty again, but seeing that everything has sold, it finally settles in your mind: you did it.

As you turn the sign on the door your eyes slide over to the picture on the right. It was taken in Nana’s kitchen, you were about six or seven, the two of you are photographed from behind as you stand on a stool, next to Nana at the counter while she is teaching you how to make bread. The memory still lives vividly in your mind even though it’s been over two decades.

“She would be so proud of you.”

Turning around you find Harry behind you with a soft smile on his lips, his eyes on the photo at first, then they move to you and your heart skips a beat.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he chuckles.

“So, I was serious. I owe you a paycheck after today.”

He rolls his eyes before arching an eyebrow at you.

“And I was serious when I said I don’t want anything in return.”

“You’ve been here since six, Harry!” you huff out a laugh. “I would feel so bad if you just went home without anything.”

He stares at you for long moments and you start to think he’ll just let you suffer with your guilt, but then he speaks up.

“Go on a date with me then.”

You suck on your breath as your eyes lock with his.

“What?” you whisper.

“Go on a date with me, Y/N. Will you?”

“I-If you’re still trying to make up for–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not. I told you, I want to spend time with you.”

You blink at him once, twice, as if you’re waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he stands his ground with a serious look.

“Are you gonna leave me hanging?” he smirks, snapping you out of your haze.

“Yes–I mean, yes to the date!” you shake your head, clearing up your answer.

“I was afraid you hated me too much to give me a chance,” he breathes out a shaky laugh.

“I never hated you, I was just confused. You were the one who hated me.”

“I couldn’t hate you, Y/N. And believe me, I tried.” You both laugh at his words. “I was frustrated, because I wanted to hate you and this place so badly, but still… I was drawn to you.”

“You were?” you ask, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“You have no idea how much,” he admits with a soft smile, stepping closer to you. “When we were skating, I totally forgot about everything and just wanted to hold your hand and help you. It was like a slap across my face when mum brought the opening up and I remembered I was supposed to hate you,” he admits with a chuckle and e inches even closer. “I’m glad I don’t have to try to hate you anymore.”

“I’m glad too.”

He is right in front of you, his face only inches away from yours and you suck on your breath when he reaches up and takes your chin between his index finger and thumb, angling your head further up so your lips are now perfectly lined up with his.

His eyes move down to your mouth, then up to meet your gaze and even without words you know he is asking for your permission to kiss you. You push closer and he is quick to close the distance and press his lips against yours.

You’d be lying if you said you never imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. Because you did, several times. But nothing compares to having him wrapped around you, his lips so soft yet rough against yours at the same time as he kisses you over and over again while you’re fisting the collar of his shirt so tight your fingers are turning white. 

Maybe you kiss for hours, or maybe it’s just minutes, you have no clue, but when he finally pulls back, resting his forehead against yours, you just know your life is about to turn upside down.

“Changed my mind,” he speaks up at last.

“Huh?”

“About the payment.”

His words sink in slowly and your eyebrows rise.

“Oh.” Harry laughs at your reaction.

“I want my payment in kisses,” he then says with the cheesiest smile you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“That could be arranged,” you breathe out when you finally get what he was talking about and grabbing the back of his neck you pull him in for another one. 

And another one.

And some more.

And just like that Nana somehow brought another wonderful thing into your life, even though she is not here anymore.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[chao-thicc-hcs]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT

Can you maybe do bonten Mikey,Sanzu,Koko and Rindou with a very touchy or shows love by touch S/O! Please🙏 🧚‍♀️PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE🧚‍♀️

your wish is my command✨

Having a touchy/affectionate s/o!

featuring: bonten!mikey; sanzu; kokonoi; rindou

genre: fluffy fluff

warning(s): mentions of blood and intestines

mikey↷

he's initially reluctant to your touches, and the sudden hugs you gave him shook him to the core

he's not used to such way of bonding with someone. He's unfamiliar with the whole "lovey-dovey" thing

warms up quickly. He yearns for it, he desires it, but is too afraid to admit it vocally, and he just kind of.. returns the favor

hugs you from behind and places his chin on your head

''Y/n, can you touch me like that again, please?" is the most you will ever hear

mikey loves observing the way you get excited when he reciprocates your touch and returns your hugs and kisses

he doesn't remind himself to do anything touchy until you touch his arm or hug him, mainly because he isn't used to physical touch. you always initiate everything, and it hints him to wrap his arm around your shoulder or waist

he might say it is "suffocating" but deep inside he wants more

is the small spoon so he can feel the comfort of your hugs

buys you food as a gratitude for not being afraid of being yourself around him

sometimes he'd come home and pretend to be grumpy, just so he can have an excuse to cuddle you tighter

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦

Mikey hated to be touched. Absolutely despised the thought of someone being near him or even simply poking him. He even remembered breaking Sanzu's finger because he dared to touch him once when he was a tad bit too excited about a person he murdered.

However, something about you flicked a switch inside of him. Every time you'd wrap your hands around his torso and say his name in a cutesy melody, every time you'd pinch his cheek, nudge his shoulder or even ruffle his already disheveled hair felt as if his stomach was churning and burning with passion.

Much to everyone's surprise, the oh invincible Mikey, head of the most feared organization - Bonten - had a soft spot for his sweet lover, letting her visit his office, bringing her to meetings and even not getting mad at her for interrupting his speech with her sudden cheek kisses. He'd glare at you, but just to appear tough in front of the others, never daring to say anything else.

But oh... Mikey on the inside is a putty. Only you knew how he submitted willingly to your feather touch that soothed his broken soul, making him toss aside all the thoughts plaguing his mind, focusing only on the warm embrace you'd give him when he's alone with you, where he can finally give in and cease pretending he's tough in front of his colleagues.

A faint smile could be seen plastered onto his face whenever you came inside his office for a visit and bring his favorite meal, or even just sit down and keep him company.

-Mikeyyyy~- your chirpy voice could be heard from the very beginning of the large hall you had to pass to reach the room.

In the middle of a meeting, Mikey cracked a small smile that he managed to conceal from his subordinates, shaking his head and sighing. You went inside the room and hopped to his desk, sitting down on his lap with force, making him oof a little.

-I brought you this! A new flavor of taiyaki the store had to offer! I want to see you try them!

-Later, Y/n. I am at a meeting.-Mikey retorted and placed his hand at the small of your back

His subordinates were watching with shock, slack-jawed as the scene unwrapped in front of them.

-Pleasee! I woke up early just to get it fresh for you out of the bakery...-you pouted, holding the taiyaki in your hands

Mikey let out a long, tired sigh and just took the treat, unwrapping it and splitting it in half, giving the other to you.

-Now, quiet, let's finish the meeting.

You nodded and shared the treat with your lover while everyone's eyes were focused on the both of you. The man took his time and resumed what he was talking on about with you on his lap. The rest of the Bonten members, however, couldn't seem to focus on his words, still visibly shook by the way their boss almost appeared vulnerable in front of them.

-If you all ever speak up about this, I will make you eat your intestines like spaghetti bolognese.-he hissed under his breath, earning a light nudge to his shoulder from you.

sanzu↷

sanzu is either super touchy or avoids you all day in the beginning, no in between

even when he tries to avoid your touch, you somehow manage to still find yourself snuggling him

he likes it, but the fucker is weird and awkward and always says shit like "you smell good" and sniff your neck or something

regardless, he doesn't really mind you clinging onto him

as time passes he'd get hella obsessive over you, wanting you by his side at all times

on the days where he doesn't feel touchy, he'd just hold your hand, nothing more

bought you a pillow of his face on days where he had to be gone for longer lmfao

he'd ask you to put lipstick on and leave stains on his cheek, neck and a little on his clothes

speaking of kisses, he'd also want you to place pecks all over his face when he comes back home

he loves it when you lay onto him and just lay on his chest <3

over time, he starts being a bit clingy too, always following you like a pet

brags about you to the others. they're sick of his constant ramblings, but they respect you for taming his horses for a short while so they put up with it

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦

If Sanzu had the powers to take all the stars down for you - he'd do it.

Instead, he saw them all aligned in your eyes. Looking at the picture of you smiling on his phone, hugging the cat you recently adopted, his heart ached and his legs almost gave up at immense yearning to have you in his arms. And listen as you rant about your day while you squeeze the air out of him.

The messages piled up, he knew you were sleeping, but he couldn't stay still without making sure you were notified how he is. Sitting on top of one of the dead bodies he had to dispose of, the world around him took the role of a poison ivy wrapping around his neck, raising the pressure that was building up from him not being next to you, sleeping peacefully.

....

The door closed. Empty apartment with a breath of fresh air. It was dark, quiet. Sanzu took off his attire and threw it in the laundry basket. He wanted to snuggle next to you as soon as he could, but he didn't want to be dirty.

Lukewarm drops of water fell down his torso and back, relaxing every muscle. Sighing under the sudden feeling of comfort, Sanzu cleaned off every splurt of blood he had left on his body. The shower was quick but refreshing enough, and he didn't bother to completely dry his body or hair before putting on boxers and approaching your shared bedroom.

His arm wrapped around you and caressed your sides gently, making sure you don't wake up. However, you turned around, seeming to have been awake for a while. You put an arm and leg around him, pulling him closer to you, while he let out a sigh.

-Missed you, babygirl.

-Missed you too, hun. Now I am here.. get some rest, I can see you're extremely tired.

He placed gentle and sloppy kisses on your neck and collarbone, squeezing you tight against him.

-Night...

-Night..~

izana↷

he will be so stiff in the beginning

his expression will be blank, as if he isn't affected by your touch, and he will blurt out stuff like "why are you being so clingy?"

but the moment you try and pull away he'd grab you and hug you back

"didn't say i don't like it"

he'd let you cling onto him, but most of the time he will not reciprocate it, especially in public

calls you annoying but with a hint of affection in his tone

pats your head a lot

when he comes from work, he'd always lean into your face, expecting you to kiss his cheek

over time he will get used to it, and will start returning touches every time

always has you either on his lap or laying on top of him

his smile doesn't leave his face when you're near him, and he'd often daydream about you when you talk about stuff while hugging him or just by touching him lightly

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦

You were rummaging through your wardrobe in distress, searching for a certain outfit that you were planning to combine for days. Izana was sitting on the bed with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk and letting out light chuckles here and there.

-'Zana, help me out here!-you whined out, which only got out another chuckle from your boyfriend

-I told you to fold your clothes properly yesterday. You insisted on lazing with me and here you are, suffering the consequences.

You glared at his shit-eating grin but kept on going. Your eyes lit up when you finally found the clothes you were planning on wearing today. Swiftly, you put on the outfit and spun around.

-Whaddya think?

Izana just kept on staring, smiling as if he saw you for the first time ever. His eyes analyzed your entire figure as you spun around and posed for him. To him, you were like a fresh oil painting - a beautiful creature depersonalizing even the shiniest of background by just mere existence - that he'd never want to look away from. His eyes analyzed your figure, his limbs felt weak. Before he realized it, he was daydreaming, and you found your way plopping onto his lap.

-Zanaaa, are you listening?-you tilted your head to the side, placing your arms on his shoulders

His arms quickly wrapped around your figure, and he laid down his torso on the bed, holding you tight and running his hand up and down your spine.

-You look mesmerizing, my dear. You took my breath away.

His gaze confirmed it all. Izana was lovestruck and he never hid that fact, contrary, he expressed it with pride, making sure you soak up the emotions of sheer adulation intertwined between his words and touches.

-But I prefer what's under it...

You chuckled and kissed his nose, nuzzling it after. -Later, baby, after our date.

koko(nut)↷

loves, loves, LOVES it

he always calls you to sit on his lap during work, because he spends half his time typing on a laptop

he'd take occasional breaks to wrap both his arms around you and squeeze you tightly

nuzzles in your chest all the time

begs for your clinginess in a more subtle manner, like nudging you with his head, poking your side so you feel a ticklish sensation, press his lips against your shoulder and all that

buys you one of those socks with bunny ear magnets that connect when you're near each other so he has an excuse to cling onto you too

challenges you on who will be more affectionate with the other one (you always win)

gets so attached to you that he even sits on the toilet while you shower, spilling tea with you

likes to wrap you like a burrito in a blanket and then hug you

on days when he's feeling lazy, he'd let you lay onto him while letting out all the affection you have for him

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦

The morning sunlight crept through the curtains of the room, illuminating your soft features as you were soundly asleep. Kokonoi, on the other hand, had already woken up and was admiring the way your face was squished under your palm, his smile not leaving his face.

His hands were caressing your sides, body barely covered from the thin sheets loosely wrapped around your thighs. He pulled your body closer to his by your hips, earning a groan from you as you absentmindedly wrapped your hands around him.

He had to get up, but he didn't want to. Kokonoi wanted to cherish the last remaining minutes he had with you before getting ready for work. His body felt heavy, and he barely even lifted his head up before his torso following.

As he was about to get up from the bed, he felt two hands wrap around his waist. He whipped his head back, just to see you holding him, murmuring something under your sleepy breath.

-Stay...-you whined out, tightening the grip on his waist

Kokonoi giggled, caressing your head and playing with a strand that was right in front of your face. This sight made him want to melt into the mattress and never get up from it with you next to him. He placed a smooch on your cheek, holding his lips on your soft skin for a bit longer.

-Can't, I got work to do, or Mikey will kill me, you know?

-Hmph..-you hummed like a child and turned around, covering your head with the sheet

You felt two hands suddenly pull you closer by your hips, earning another hum from you. Your head turned around to get a glimpse of your lover looking at you with sultry eyes.

-Maybe I can stay for a bit longer, just so my princess gets her ample amount of morning kisses.

You smiled and turned around to face him, cupping his face and commencing a kissy battle with him.

rindou↷

sulky babyboy and i mean it

doesn't like pda, and would often tell you to hold your horses at least when he's outside or with other bonten members

if you insist on being all clingy with him, he still wouldn't push you away, ever. he loathes seeing you upset from not hugging him

rindou yearns for your touch, especially after he's home from a long, tiring day. your arms around him relaxes him in an instant

he'd just sit there, arms crossed while letting you squish his cheeks, kiss his entire face and throw yourself onto him

has tons of videos on his phone of you biting his arms, blurry pictures and videos of you approaching him with your hands open and etc.

enjoys banters, a lot. he'd deffo try and restrain you with his hands while you fight for your life to let yourself go, saying you're being "too clingy and need to be restrained" (Affectionately)

sometimes he'd pretend to wipe off the kisses you give him and will giggle at your offended gasps

he always falls asleep between your thighs first, then proceeds to lazily crawl next to you and hug you

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━❦

Your lover couldn't cease the loud laughter coming from his mouth when he managed to annoy you for the third time this afternoon.

You were sulking, arms and legs crossed as you sat on the couch, staring into the TV screen like a toddler who got refused an ice popsicle.

Rindou took his time to calm his laughter down and ease his stomach. The view of you like this made him melt, he found you more than just adorable. You however, had a hard time sharing such feelings.

You wanted to cuddle him, and practically latched onto him like a leech, but he had other plans for today. He annoyed the shit out of you with sly remarks and even trying to jokingly push you away, which didn't earn a pleasant reaction from you.

After some time, he approached the couch and placed his head onto your lap, still grinning like an idiot while looking up at you.

-Aw c'mon, don't be sulky, Y/n. I was joking. -he said in between his giggles

You let out a "humph" and turned your head around, trying to scoot away a little so his head plops onto the couch. Rin sat properly on the couch and placed you to sit in between his legs, kissing your neck.

-...your jokes aren't funny, Rin. Apologize to me now, or I won't hug you today.

He rolled his eyes at this, but he couldn't deny that he'd rather sink in a pile of horse shit than deprive himself from your hugs because of his stubbornness.

-I'm sorry, baby. You know I love you and your hugs, right? -he spoke softly, nuzzling his head in your neck

-I know you do, so who am I to deprive you from them? -you chuckled, caressing his cheek

©chao-thicc-hcs; reblogs are deeply appreciated

[danddymaro]

Having each other | Daryl Dixon x Reader

During S9

angsty(?)

Word Count: 1347

Having Eachother

It amazed him how much you smiled, how much of you suggested the idea that nothing in the world was going to break down that front. 

Even as the farm went to hell, and everything in it that had once seemed lively was rendered to waste, you kept that same upward perk. 

Against all odds and his initial frustration too, you were a true trooper, dedicated to holding onto that one bit of you, you swore no one could ever take from you.

'It's all I have,' You said quietly as you looked up into the starless sky, refusing to let a single tear fall.

Even when he could see your eyes tear up, brim with would-be tears, you somehow managed to blink them away just in time, smiling right after, almost triumphantly.

-It was admirable, really.

After everything that had occurred, every bit of heartbreak you suffered through, you managed to show off the expression. Even if it sometimes twitched with opposition, wanting to fall into the same gloomy state as everything else around tended to, you managed to salvage it.

You smiled, and he figured that it was out of some stupid luck he'd gotten stuck with you during the escape.

That had to be it,

' - some sort of cursed luck, ' he mused bitterly as you two walked through the noon, trying to find a safe place to rest.

he quietly looked back, his eyes leading back to you, who seemed rather chirpy as you gazed up at the sky, upholding that dammed smile.

 

And you had the nerve to wave your fingers up as little birds ventured towards the same path you guys seemed to, almost as though you were convinced your bloodied hand was anything to fall for.

It happened too many times to count, and you told him the same thing over and over ;

"We'll get through this," you said while smiling down at him as he sat on the broken porch of the abandoned house. 

During his own miserable episodes, he envied you, silently cursing at your naïveté until he finally understood that it was your own strength, your own resistance to the world's evil.

He'd never been one to try and understand the complexity of other people, especially not when he hadn't been one to interact with many before.

He had always been on the move with Merle, so there hadn't been a reason to try and understand anyone else.

To a person like him, you'd been strange at first, a mystery he couldn't properly understand at first glance.

'You should try it sometime,' you suggested with a shrug, mildly considering it after your sanguinity usually ended in some form of accomplishment.

-And he began to smile, his version of a smile at least which was usually just some dickish joke accompanied by a short grin.

Even if it was just a quick motion, you seemed to catch on and appreciated it, praising him for being able to show something other than frustration.

"You have a pretty smile,"  you said as you stopped in your tracks, taking a moment to look at him before you offered him one of your own and kept moving. 

" I like it..." 

The moment had been so quick, and he stood stunned as you walked past him, trailing behind Carl with an old box full of dust-coated supplies that consisted of old cans of soup.

Tongue-tied was just what Daryl felt, especially the second time you strolled by.

Luckily, he'd always been a quiet guy, so it wasn't so strange to anyone else. 

"Give it here," he said while motioning you close, taking the last of the supplies in his arms. 

You didn't fight him on it. soon after, rolling your neck as you thanked him. 

"-Tough day huh?" he said while observing you, and you let out a little sigh, "Yeah...but I'm just happy to be home," you answered honestly, walking with him. 

And your lips were stretched into a soft smile as you looked up at the tame clouds above.

"Glad you're here..." he said while looking straight, finding it hard to look at you, no matter how pretty you were.

.

.

.

He tried to look away, to keep his eyes on Carol, focusing on his closest confidant to offer her some sort of comfort during the moment because he knew she needed it too. 

-More than he did.

He tried to be strong, holding down his voice, keeping it from wavering.

But his heart ached, slowly splitting by its delicate strings as he closed his eyes, shutting them tight as he brought the long-haired woman close to him, embracing her.

He offered her somewhere to hide, to look away from her son as he stared beyond them, out into nothing, avoiding the true sight that hovered over them.

-All while sad eyes glanced down at him.

It was a focus he could feel directed at him no matter how hard he tried to think of everything else but that damning sense. 

.

.

.

The lovely curve of your lips that always formed when you smiled was gone as your mouth moved, the sluggish movement hindered by a limp jaw.

Garbled sounds escaped as you spoke in a language he couldn't understand, and hoped never to no matter how much he'd dwelled in your every conversation and clung to your every word before.

Dull, melancholic orbs stared down at him, holding despair gathered from your last moments, as well as every other you always managed to overcome.

Dried tears trailed down your cheeks, leftover from your final moments he tried not to picture.

It was then that it occurred to him that he'd never seen you cry, witnessing nothing other than misty eyes in the past.

Against all else, he couldn't even feel the mourning he should.

He felt something far from sadness or mourning.

Instead, he thought of the Whispers as they tore that smile from you and forced your tears.

He Could hardly think of every beautiful moment he lived with you without imagining them ambushing you and our friends- your family. - his family. 

He'd give anything to forget those few seconds he recognized your unfamiliar expression because now, that beautiful memory of you smiling became infected with just that.

-and only that.

Yet, as much as he wanted to break down, he resisted.

Instead, he upheld the falling woman as she was weakened down to her knees, sobbing as she clung to him throughout her collapse.

"What are you looking at?" you asked with a grin, the way your eyes twinkled causing him to laugh because that playfulness of yours was sometimes a bit too contagious.

He shook his head as he huffed, "nothin'..." he said lowly, though he snuck a peek at you. 

"You just got a pretty smile," he reminded you, and no matter how many times he repeated the line, you always seemed to grow a little flustered. 

And somehow, it managed to make that expression he complimented turn into something more precious.

Unwittingly, you looked at him, your face warm with giddiness as your smile was broken into a grin from which little giggles escaped out of.

As you slowly quieted down, you inched closer to him during your little walk, and as your hand lightly brushed his, you tested the waters.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him begin to smile, as his fingers made little attempts to capture yours.

It took a few teasing attempts before you managed to hook one, giving him the push he needed to, to just hold your hand entirely.

"We'll get through this..."

Things had gotten tough lately, but you were sure of it,

"Because we have each other," you added as you gave his hand a little squeeze.

"Right?"

As he looked down, away from the sky, and away from you, he smiled.

It was full of bitterness as he swallowed down that miserable familiar taste of having nothing.

And to think, He'd really believed you.

[chaoticgoodthief]

More STP Thoughts

So I did this thing earlier but now I'm thinking... There's games that the voices would play... but then there's something else that I can't stop thinking about. What would be the most interesting game characters for the voices to be? Say that after the Construct shatters, they're all thrown into being their own Player Character of different games.

Contrarian is probably the easiest in my mind. Stanley from The Stanley Parable, same as he would probably enjoy playing. It's a game in which he is in a constant loop of disobeying the whims of an angry British Narrator with a capital N who has very strong opinions on what the correct path is. And would be fun to try pull him out of there, because I'd bet my life savings that the Narrator would guilt-trip him about it. And *eyes my TSP ships* it might get a bit... awkward.

Opportunist, a voice that I didn't have any clue what to do with before but now have the perfect idea. Lamb from Cult of the Lamb. Manipulative, obeying a higher deity but ultimately self-serving, made a deal in exchange for his own freedom only to (potentially) disobey when his own life is at stake. Originally was planning for Broken in this role because of the whole Priest to a cruel god, but Opportunist just works better. A really inflated ego from defeating and enslaving a god plus things turning out extremely beneficial to him will make he really hard to convince to leave.

Cold... well, there are multiple options here. I'm not going with Flowey because I think he just doesn't have it in him to be that chirpy, even as an act. Although that would be funny for the other voices to deal with... Instead, I'm going to go with Batter from OFF. It's not as big of a game as the others, but I really think it works. Think Genocide Route Frisk, but there's no other choice but to kill everything. Wipe the world of any life at all, do whatever it takes to complete his task, no matter who has to die to achieve it. Getting him to stop trying to "purify" the voices for long enough to listen to them would be one of the hardest parts, but at least he can't attack during dialogue.

Paranoid is another one that I didn't really have any ideas on until lately. But now I have the Doorman from That's Not My Neighbor. Sure, there's a bit of a more Skeptic role with the whole question them until they reveal the truth, but I think it still works. I mean the whole Nightmares and distrust of what's real and what's fake... it was a tough choice but ultimately Paranoid works a bit better in a horror setting than Skeptic. And getting him out of there. Oh, I don't even know how the other voices will drag him out of his safe little office.

Smitten... Oh, Smitten I'm so sorry. The unnamed protagonist of Doki Doki Literature Club! Has good intentions (just falling in love with a girl), believes he's in a romance story until too late. I wouldn't be surprised if this scars him for life. I'm not sure if he would even make it to the end before breaking down completely. He doesn't even have Cold to do all the emotional repression for him. Even if he is probably the easiest to convince into leaving, getting him to even be responsive again would probably be a struggle.

Hero would probably be the one having to convince to others to leave, to be honest. Sorry buddy. Someone has to do it and I'm afraid you are just the best fit for the role. At least LQ might be there to help you. Might.

I'm not really familiar with any games that work well for the other voices so please let me know your thoughts if you have any ideas! The more painful the better 😈

Edit 1 (suggestion from an anon ask):

Broken as the protagonist from Do Not Take This Cat Home. Gosh, this was so perfect. The game is literally a metaphor for abusive relationships, he's trapped in a endless loop repeatedly meeting his abuser and dying by their whims. He's lonely, desperate, and just wanting a companion and to make that companion happy with him. Please take him out. He's going need to be dragged kicking and screaming because he is very likely not going to be able to get the good ending by himself.

Edit 2 (Another anon suggestion 😈):

Cheated as the player in Buckshot Roulette. Wow. A lot of the voices work really well in other indie horror games and Cheated is no different. There is nothing but the game. A Russian roulette game with multiple twists and changes, but at the end of the day that same back and forth of each one trying to win. Back and forth and back and forth. Trying to use new tricks to win the same game. One of them has to die. But no matter who does, neither truly wins. Will he even want to leave until the game is "over"? Probably not. Please drag him out, he's going mad trying to win a loser's game. I love this.

Edit 3 (More anon suggestions yay!!!):

Hunted as the Slugcat from Rain World. Literally trapped in an endless circle of death and rebirth, escaping getting eaten, killed by the elements, or starving to death. I've said about every single suggestion, but I honestly think this fits extremely well. There are even little changes to the story you can make dependent on which path you chose! (Monk, Survivor, Hunter). Will also probably attack whoever tries pull him out because cat > bird and I think that's funny so that's also a win :D

Edit 4 (Suggestion from @gallus-mundus):

Skeptic as the player from Exit 8. Hahahaha wow almost none of the voices actually left the horror genre, did they? But YES. This works so well for him. Sure, the deductions are very limited, but it's not really like he did that many in the game to be honest. His chronic overthinker ass is not beating the game (read: chaining yourself to the wall, you absolute dumbass). There's a time limit, even if he does manage to figure out the trick to escaping I really don't think he is going to make it out alone. At least he should be reasonably easy to convince to leave compared to the rest...

Edit 5

Stubborn as V1 from Ultrakill. Finally, another voice that escape the horror genre! Not a perfect fit, but pretty neat in my humble opinion. Literally running on bloodshed, a sense of duty/purpose to fight, but often also characterised as someone that enjoys the fight itself. And... *Side-eyes at Gabriel/V1* yeah, that type of relationship looks... familiar. Good luck getting him out of there, he's discovered the wonderous world of modern weaponry. (Alternatively, if he's taken out at the end of the game... yeah probably not in that good of an emotional state either.)

WOOOO YEAH FINALLY DONE!!! THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR HELP!!!

[kittyball23]

The Tough Questions (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: While attempting to explain the arrival of a new sibling, Bruce’s daughter's line of questioning stirs up some old memories, and reminds him of what is yet to be revealed to his wife

A/N: Taking place before TBT :)

__________________________________________

Art was not Bruce’s strongest suit.

Well, at least art in the pen-and-paper sense (or in this case, a stick and the sand underfoot from the beach). The only art that he had been good at creating was the kind that came out of his throat in a stunning, musical tune. It wasn't quite the same in the illustration department, though. Nevertheless, he tried his best at formulating the figures he was trying to depict. It wasn't for his sake that this drawing was being made. It was for the tall, giggling child who stood just behind him, snickering with each stroke he added to the creation.

"Daddy," she said, a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh, "is that supposed to be a dog?"

Bruce turned to look at her. Brenda was a cute little girl, resembling her mother much in appearance with her felt-like skin, striped body, and yarn-like hair. A little white flower adorned her hair just above the right ear, adding a little extra pizazz, though he had to crane his neck a little to actually see it well enough. Err… maybe NOT so little of a girl, he suddenly thought to himself, considering her actual size when next to him. Despite his daughter only being four years old, he was dwarfed greatly, though this was not unusual since she wasn't 100% Troll. Residents of Vacay Island were unique-looking creatures who were at least ten Trolls high and had thin arms and puppet-like features.

As a kid, Bruce had barely been able to depict a Troll in the silly doodles he’d made within the song-writing journal he had. So, trying to make an illustration of his Islander spouse and daughter’s special features was certainly not coming out the best, either.

"No, darling. That's supposed to be Mommy. See?" He pointed out the figure in the drawing who was supposed to be his wife, Brandy.

Brenda cocked her head, pondering, looking at it this way and that, and ultimately giggling again. "Oh, okay, Daddy," she said in a way that was meant to say "Suuuure, I'll believe that dog-looking blob is Mommy."

"Oh, yeah?" Bruce said, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes playfully at her. "I'd like to see you try your hand at it."

His daughter immediately stopped laughing. He expected her to meekly step back and allow him to finish, knowing her child-like drawing would probably bear even less resemblance to her mother, but he was surprised when she stood straight up, plucked the stick from his hands and bent down over the sand with a chirpy "Okay, Daddy!" in response. Bruce watched with amusement as she started to draw, but soon that amusement shifted to awe the more she added. By the end of it, Brenda had drawn not only her mother, but Bruce and herself… and it looked photographic!

"Whoa…" he said, unable to help his jaw dropping a little. "Not bad, kid… not bad at all!" He stretched up to ruffle her hair, and she laughed sweetly. The purple-haired smiled at her and pointed at the drawing. "This is our family, right?"

Brenda beamed, proud of her work, and nodded. "Yep!" she chirped.

He grinned and bent down with the stick again. "Well, sweetie, pretty soon it's gonna look like this." He drew a little figurine next to her mother’s, smaller than Brenda’s but still bigger than his. 

"Huh?" the girl was confused. "Who's that?" she asked, but instantly turned around and answered her own question with "Oooohh, Daddy! Are we getting a puppy?"

"What? No!" Bruce was unable to believe that his artistic vision didn't seem to be coming across the way he wanted once more.

"Awww…" Brenda slumped.

"But," he spoke up, patting her hand, "you're getting something even better.”

She gasped. "Oh! Really? What?"

"A baby brother," he responded, "or a sister."

Brenda blinked her large eyes. "Oh," she said after a minute, not so enthused. "Um… well, okay…"

"It’s nothing to be moping about," Bruce said. "Actually, it's something really, really cool!" He spoke animatedly, and Brenda gained curiosity.

"Yeah?"

"The coolest," he assured. "Why, a brother - or a sister - is like a friend who's always gonna be with you. You guys can play and sing and dance - "

"And hug?" Brenda asked, tucking her hands under her chin.

"Yep, and hug!" he replied, tickling the girl at her sides and making her giggle. "And the best part is, you guys will make lots of great fun memories together that you'll keep with you forever."

"And ever?" she chirped.

"And ever.”

"And ever and ever and ever and ever and - !"

"Brenda," the Troll said with warning. She went on keeping that up, there'd be no more cookies before bedtime!

"Heehee, sorry, Daddy," the girl mumbled, shuffling her foot in the sand. In peering down at the drawing again, his daughter’s face lit up. "Wow," she murmured. "Where's he now?" she asked, and then added, "or she."

"In Mommy's belly," Bruce explained.

Brenda was surprised to hear this. "What?" She crossed her arms. "Doesn't Mommy know that we're not on the menu!" she demanded to know.

"Of course Mommy knows.”

"Huh," she said, "then how did the baby get in there?"

Bruce’s eyes bulged. "Uhh…" His face grew warm upon remembering exactly how, but that was not something to be discussed with the young girl. Luckily, Brenda decided she didn't care all that much to know, and piped up with another question in her curious mind.

“Hey, Daddy, everybody has a family, right?”

“Um, yes! Yes, they do,” he answered, grateful for the change in subject.

“So that means you have a Mommy and Daddy too, right?”

“You got that right, kid.”

Brenda nodded, and then shot right out with another question. “Daddy, do you have any brothers?”

She sure IS smart, Bruce thought, a feeling of pride washing over him. Maybe a little TOO smart, he then thought, apprehensively. This conversation was now going in the direction that he hoped it hadn’t. His mind blanked out a second as the recollection of four Trollings came into his thoughts and brought a pang of sadness with it. He didn’t want to answer no, but he didn’t exactly want to go on admitting that he did have brothers, for he knew his daughter would certainly flock him with questions that would require him to reveal much about his boyband past. So, instead, he stuttered an “I… I-I don’t know…”

“What?” Brenda was appalled by his answer. “Daddy, how could you not know if you have a brother?”

“Hey, you know what I do know?” Bruce said, making sure his tone remained as chill as he was hoping it was sounding. “That it is time for bedtime!”

The girl giggled. “Don’t be silly, Daddy, I’m not tired.” But her statement instantly became null and void when she opened her little mouth and let out a big yawn.

The Troll let out a sigh of relief. Whew, what a save! In reality, it was difficult to tell when exactly it was bedtime. The sun on Vacay Island never set. But, in time, he had gotten used to keeping track of the hours in the day. And for his daughter it really was time to hit the hay. “Come on,” he cooed, grabbing her hand and guiding her back indoors and back to her bedroom. Bruce helped in tucking her in, pulling the blanket over her and kissing her forehead.

“Sweet dreams, Bren,” he said.

Brenda yawned again, and sleepily smiled up at him. “G’night, Daddy…” It was only a minute later that she was snoring contently.

__________________________________________

Give it up, Bruce, a voice in the back of his head chimed. They’re already shiny enough.

It was true. There was no need to grab any more globs of the goopy wax and apply it to his collection of surfboards. They were already ready to go, to be grabbed at a moment’s notice and go sailing the waves like he loved to do in the evenings. But Bruce couldn’t help it. The motion of running his hands over the board, of being able to be occupied with something to do was soothing to his nerves. And he had to soothe himself for sure, after the memories of that awful night returned to him.

It’s your fault! the voice in his brain annoyingly shouted. You were the first to quit!

He grabbed more wax and rubbed harder on the board, trying to push away the guilt. No, it wasn’t my fault… not COMPLETELY. Perhaps he had set off the chain reaction. He had known he was a big influence on Clay, so it was no surprise that the yellow-haired Troll had immediately called it quits not too long after Bruce had ripped his purple vest in two. But then he thought about why he and Clay had been so allied.

It’s because of John Dory…

If JD hadn’t gotten on both their nerves, the breakup could have been avoided.

Yeah, that’s right… it’s HIS fault!

But then he sighed. No… it’s not completely. Even though he wanted to pin the blame, he couldn’t. They all could’ve worked things out. But the reality was, they hadn’t.

“Bruce?”

He perked, turning to the sound of the voice. It was that of his wife. His very tall wife. If Brenda was already making him look small, that was nothing compared to Brandy. But they made things work out. Somehow… but they did! Otherwise, Brenda and her sibling wouldn’t exist. 

Brandy peered down at Bruce, her gaze almost knowing.

“Bruce,” she repeated gently, a hand subconsciously reaching up and rubbing a hand against her swollen belly. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Bruce huffed, getting back to his work. “Nothing’s wrong. What makes you think something is wrong?"

“Because you’re waxing down the surfboards,” she stated, as though it were obvious.

Bruce paused mid-swipe. Once again, it was proven that she was his soulmate. She knew him the best out of any girl he’d been with in the past. She’d figure him out in one way or another. There were no secrets between them, as he sought it should be between a husband and wife. No secrets except one. But he would tell her in time.

But… is NOW the time?

“Brucie, tell me what’s the matter,” she insisted. She crouched down, tracing a finger down through his long, flowing purple hair.

“It’s nothing, really,” he said, trying to brush the subject off. But Brandy wasn’t having it.

“Is it about Brenda?” she guessed. She’d known that he had gone to talk to her about the new baby.

“Ehh… sort of…”

Suddenly Brandy narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t have ‘the talk’ with her yet, did you? I told you to save that for when she was older!”

Bruce put his hands up. “No, no! No talk, don’t worry, my love. All I did was tell her about the family. And yeah, she had some questions, that I answered the best I could…” All except that last question, he added silently.

Brandy eyed him a second, and then understanding seemed to flood her eyes. “Ohh, I get what this is about,” she said.

The purple-haired Troll held back a gasp. “Y-you do?” No, she couldn’t possibly know, could she? He was thrilled to know that nobody on Vacay Island had known about his true identity upon his first arrival, and he’d made sure to keep it that way for many years.

Brandy nodded. “Yeah.” Then she smiled. “You’re worried about being a Dad again, aren’t you?”

Bruce relaxed. “Ahhh, yes. You got me there, honey.” He tried to laugh, but it came out nervous-sounding and uncertain.

“Aw, Bruce,” she cooed, scooping him in closer to her. “I know it can be a little scary, but hey… you’ve been doing a great job with Brenda.”

“You mean we,” he said, winking at her, “don’t jip yourself the credit, baby.”

She grinned, leaning down to peck his cheek. “And I can assure you that there’s nothing to worry about this time around. Okay?”

He gave her one nod. Bruce was a little unnerved about adding another kiddo to their family, but he felt even more unnerved in hiding the full truth from her. His gaze drifted to her belly, enlarged with the few months’ pregnancy. “Hey, kid,” he whispered softly, reaching a hand out to caress the bump. “We’ll be meeting each other pretty soon. How’s it popping in there?”

To his delight, he felt a kick in response and had to chuckle. “Yeah, I’m excited about seeing you, too. You’re gonna love our home. And your Mommy,” he said looking up at Brandy fondly.  She was a wonderful mother, the best kind there was. And while they were both still fairly young parents, they found out that they were naturals.

"All right, it's about time we head in for the night. You coming? Or would you rather finish up here?" she asked amusedly.

He smirked. "Nah, I'm done. Thanks."

"Don't mention it, sweetie," Brandy replied, giving him one more kiss before grabbing him and heading for the bedroom. 

As the door closed behind them and she pulled the sheets back, he flopped onto the bed, lying flat. To him, their bed was as big as the ocean, given that he was so much smaller than she. For her, it was just right. Just like their daughter, she fell asleep quickly, understandably so with how the growing life in her belly was making her energy drain quicker throughout the day. Bruce had a bit harder of a time falling asleep though, still fretting over his inability to just admit it to her already.

I will tell her, he told himself. When the time is right. I promise, Brandy...

Bruce looked over at his wife, his heart full.

I promise.

__________________________________________

A/N: This follows the headcanon I have that all of Bruce's kids' names start with "Br"

[oftenderweapons]

Down The Rabbit Hole | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Fawn)

Wordcount: 12.5k

Genre: one shot, pwp, smut, fluff, only mild angst, fwb au (?) kinda(?)?, divorced! seokjin, dilf!seokjin

Rating: 18+, minors please do not read or interact

Synopsis: Seokjin has been meeting Fawn at The Rabbit Hole for a while now. A place of debauchery and foregone inhibitions, and yet only one rule would not budge. Will Fawn finally have a taste of the forbidden fruit?

Warnings: DILF!Seokjin (it's a trigger warning in and of itself), oral sex (female receiving, attempt at male receiving), masturbation (female receiving), degradation kink, corruption kink, handcuffs, sex toys (vaginal sphere), dry humping, unprotected sex, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breast slapping, voyeurism & exhibitionism. Mentions of divorce procedures, mentions of Seokjin's three precious daughters. Brief cameo of our lovely darlings Namjoon & Mia.

As always, thanking the magical girlie that made this fic a bit more coherent @nervous-moon and the special friends that made me get here. Also, a special thank you to past me, who persevered and got off birth control for this fic LOL

As always, please remember that showing some love to fics will power authors through the major struggles of this platform and will eventually make them write bigger, better, bolder fics 💕

You’ve known Seokjin for two months. He’s stunning, he’s smart, he’s friendly and adorably chirpy — before the games begin.

Here's my masterlist, enjoy you spicy little nuggets

Read more of this AU | MYG | KNJ

You’ve known Seokjin for two months. He’s stunning, he’s smart, he’s friendly and adorably chirpy — before the games begin. 

Once you’re in the room, the sweet father-of-three turns into a man with no restraints. He has an appetite for all things cunning and controlling. 

He tells you how to do things. He tells you when, for how long. Harder, faster, rougher, deeper. 

He always asks for more, 

He is insatiable and ruthless. 

However, despite what that introduction might make it sound, there’s so much more of him you haven’t had: all your previous encounters were only foreplay. 

His list of previous inhibitions was so long that in two three-hour-long sessions you hadn’t yet tackled anything regarding his dick inside your vagina — truly a shame, since that’s a perfectly beautiful, perfectly thick, perfectly long dick, and you would know since you’ve acquainted with it through your hands, mouth and boobs. 

Seokjin is the most promising man you’ve never had sex with; that is, you’ve had sex with plenty of mediocre men, and a couple good ones, you’ve double checked handfuls of men on the streets, but he’s by far the one you can bet will give you the ride of your life. You don’t know why, you just know.

And maybe, if you’re lucky enough, that will happen tonight. 

“Here’s my pretty fawn,” he says once he notices you at a corner table, out of the main floor where people are starting to mingle. He kisses the too of your head. “How were these weeks apart?”

“Hi,” you tell him, and from the little somersault of your rib cage, you can tell the distance did make the heart grow fonder. “It was chaotic, but I survived.”

“You’re a tough cookie, Fawn. By now you should know there’s nothing you can’t overcome if you put your mind to it,” he says, proud, reassuring. 

It’s the same tone he uses for ‘you take it so well” and ‘that’s my golden girl’ and ‘come on, Fawn, just one more, sweetheart’.

You melt. You know you melt, and your body betrays you because you can feel the heaviness in your lower belly, and you can tell that your core will be coated in wetness in about eight seconds. 

“As for my past few days, I’ve been busy, as usual.”

“How are the girls?” you ask, eager to imagine more bits of them. 

“Lily is turning ten next week, as I told you. Rose is getting better at biking, and soon we’ll be able to go for short outings in public together, And then darling Daisy has just called a truce with spinach so we have added one more ingredient to our weekly rotation.” As Seokjin talks about his daughters, something in his face lights up and you can imagine the man he must be outside these walls, far from the reign of debauchery he slips into once every other week. A dedicated man, committed, domestic, devoted. He smiles when he talks about his girls, his whole world brightens, like they were his personal constellation showing him the way. 

“Did you recover from our last session?” he asks, concerned, meek, respectful. He is so kind to you, always. 

“I did…” You keep it vague because telling him that you've been laying on your back, fucking yourself with your largest toy, gasping and hiccuping his name doesn't feel like a productive angle for an answer. Not the kind of answer you want to give him in public anyways. 

“Any notes about what we did last time? Anything relevant we should renegotiate?” 

I want us to walk through the door tonight and I want you to throw me on the bed, bend me over, lift my skirt and fuck me straight up, because you are the reason I'm going commando under this effing tight dress, you try to tell him with your eyes, the tilt of your head, the little lick of your lips and the light bite at your lower one. 

“No, nothing relevant, really.” 

He stares at your mouth for a hot second, and you can only hope he's thinking about the last time he's come on it. 

“So you want…” He hesitates as he thinks about the next step. “You wanna keep this foreplay only.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, then you take a sip of your drink, and click your tongue a couple times, as if trying to savour the wine. “You're the one in command. You know that.” 

“I command you when you're naked. And you're dressed now, alas.” He cocks an eyebrow right back at you, mirroring your sarcastic snare. “And this is a matter of consent and limits, which means we're equals right now. The games haven't yet begun, Fawn.”

You look around, as if the other clients could possibly help you in this situation. 

You want him, you're dying to have him, and if he could bend you over, spank you and fuck you right over one of the entrance tables, you'd let him. 

You'd probably also let him come inside, or do other slightly demeaning acts to humiliate you. 

“We can play it however it lays, no pressure.” That's what you tell him, really trying not to betray your true intentions. 

“Do you, or do you not?” he asks, and you do feel pressured. 

“What do you want me to say?” You provoke him, staring him down. “Because this is sounding like you have indeed an answer you want to hear from me.” 

He shakes his head, exasperated. “Fawn. You don't usually struggle with telling me what you want. You want foreplay or you want us to fuck?” 

“Either is fine. We'll see that later.” You down more of your drink and he stares at your throat as you swallow. You catch him staring and you feel heat creep to your cheeks, but you’re not embarrassed, rather pleased with his distraction. 

Too bad you’re not him and you can’t tell he’s been sizzling with want for days. He’s been separated for years now, but with the divorce practice being completed in a few weeks, he’d been more tense than usual. He knows he’s doing the right thing leaving his marriage behind, however the idea of raising three daughters alone, and giving his ex-wife the chance to start the kind of life she’s been too ashamed to pursue is terrifying. 

Lily, Rose and Daisy are the joy of his life, but soon Lily will enter adolescence and her mother will be there for her, sure, but he’s been the one consistently raising them for the past five years, almost turning into a stay-at-home dad for them, while Ara was busy rebuilding her career and travelling and saving money to afford moving out by herself. 

He supported her. Their marriage had ended for all the best — though most painful —  reasons: they didn’t love each other anymore, not as partners at least. He could tell she was no longer happy, she hadn’t been since Rose had been born. Daisy was probably the last straw. He’d rather have his girls having a happy mother than have a miserable spouse for himself and a mediocre parent for his children. And he knew the girls would learn the right lesson from this: you can only be loved right when the one you love knows how to love themselves. 

Plus, he could tell he hadn’t been loving Ara right for a while. He could bring himself to stay loyal to her and respect her and be there for her; still, he also knew he owed himself actual happiness, and he would be a coward if he refused to go look for it because he was afraid of not finding it, or getting hurt in the process. 

And now you’ve entered the picture. He’s seen a bunch of people before you, but he knew they weren’t quite right — he’d even issued post-session feedback where he stated he didn’t want to be matched again with two of the women he’d spent the night with. 

He’d entered the Rabbit Hole with the purpose of some light-hearted fun with other adults who, like him, had already seen a fair share of life and could also have the same mature and intellectual approach towards intimacy. 

A friend of his had driven him here after a particularly bad date with a woman almost twelve years younger than him who seemed more interested in being the girls’ mother than his girlfriend first. 

Being honest, he’d spotted you the first time he’d seen you at the Rabbit Hole, but he’d never pursued you because he believed in the system matching him according to his profile. He assumed you wanted something off-limits to him — maybe you were into getting your partner tied up, or leashed like a pet, or entirely enslaved — but apparently it was just a matter of letting the match play itself. 

It happened around his fifth or sixth party: he had entered the foyer thinking he would once more spend his pregame staring at you from the opposite table, drinking, getting riled up at the thought of you kneeling before him, his dick in your mouth. He had fixed his trousers and headed to the room at the sound of the bell, and a few minutes later, as the lock turned and the door opened, he had found you there, with your pretty doll mouth and your plush cheeks and your round, doe eyes, innocence personified. 

“What are you thinking?” you ask him, your fingers tracing his elbow, calling for his attention. 

He shakes his head. “I’m thinking of the first time we matched.”

You smile, then catch your lower lip between your teeth. “Interesting.”

He takes hold of your hand, so gentle, then caresses your knuckles, the touch as shy as a whisper. “What did you think of it?”

“The first time I saw you?” you ask, curious and surprised at his question. 

He nods and you giggle, embarrassed. “I had caught you staring a few times before. I was intrigued.”

He gives a bright, although secret smile, and his fingers flirt with yours, dancing in between each other. The mere touch of his hand against your own is turning you on. 

“I was wondering if I’d ever match with you. If we didn’t because you were into hardcore stuff, or maybe you wanted to dominate and I was not… I’m not submissive.” His eyes play hide and seek with yours, as if he were ashamed. 

“Well… That gives…” You let him hang in that pause for a few seconds, then give him the word, “It’s a new perspective.” You can feel him exhale in relief at that. “I wanted to see what you were into too. Too bad we were too shy to approach each other.”

“But apparently we were meant to meet.”

“Just a matter of time…” you tease him. 

That night, when you’d first met, you’d clicked immediately. In less than fifteen minutes, you were kissing, and within that first half hour, you’d never been happier to be naked with a man. 

He was attentive, touching and kissing places that almost no one had ever paid attention to. He tickled the back of your knees, and pressed the plush petals of his lips to the arch of your feet. He nipped at the edge of your ribs, and licked at the small dip at your hip, where the sinew of your quad attaches to the bone of your hip crest. He tugged at your earlobe with his teeth and dipped the tip of his tongue at the twin hollows at the base of your spine. 

When they talk about being worshipped like you were the only woman left on the face of earth, that’s probably what they mean. 

It made you really generous — the kind of generous that makes you end up on your knees with a very messy mouth. 

It was surprising, how you went on for one full hour dragging pleasure out of each other in an almost torturing way, so close to him entering you, and never doing so. 

At the end of that, you’d suggested staying till morning, but he’d explained how he was a single dad and he really should be there in the morning. 

“And that second time?” you tell him. 

He blushes to the tip of his ears and it makes you giggle sweetly. 

You’d entered the room already fully immersed in your role. You’d called him sir, made it clear you were his efficient, loyal assistant who’d been nursing a crush on him for so long. And he’d been playing along phenomenally, barking orders at you, and fucking your mouth, praising you so sweetly while mascara tears ran down your cheeks — just to draw a line when it came to him using you to cheat on his wife. 

The fantasy had been brusquely interrupted when you realised he could actually be cheating — he was a father after all, from what you’d understood. He was quick to explain he’d been separated and that was the best decision he and his ex-wife had taken; and he’d shown his interest in your game by returning to it by saying how his sweet secretary had come into his life to make him realise he’d never truly had passion with his wife. 

“You were surprising,” he admits. “Unexpectedly resourceful.”

Tonight the bell can’t ring soon enough. You just want to drag him to a dark corner and cover him in you. You want to rub yourself against him, all over him. You want to see him covered in your own wetness, and the lack of panties is only making you more sensitive. 

“Would you do it again? A little roleplay?” you ask him. 

He arches both eyebrows. “I thought I was clear about it. Adamantly, yes.”

“Hi there,” you hear, and turn around to be faced with two familiar faces. Right there, remnants of your third encounter with Seokjin. 

Namjoon and his Mia, the latest hype of the club. They’d been performing together for some months now, and everyone said their sessions were something else entirely. You and Seokjin had started your third encounter by watching them in the voyeur area; there, they could perform within the three walls of a private room and a large two-way mirror, behind which people could watch those who consensually exhibited their encounters.

“Lovely to see you, Mia,” you hugged the woman and kissed her on both cheeks. It could have been awkward to interact with someone you’ve watched having sex, but with her — maybe also thanks to the environment of the club — it was liberating, almost exciting.

Meanwhile Namjoon and Seokjin shook hands, starting to chat with ease. 

“So, how’s it going with your wet dream prince?” she asks, knowing perfectly well how long you’ve been pining for Seokjin. “Is he worth the hype?”

Your expression could be the definition of ‘the cat that got the cream’. 

“Girl, tone it down a notch,” Mia says playfully, hitting your arm. “Is it getting official or is it a no work all play kind of game?”

Your grin tones down a little. “He’s a father, Mia. He has obligations.” 

Her face looks entirely sympathetic. “I see. But there’s nothing wrong with asking, you know? If you’re interested…”

“I’ve got no interest in getting my heart broken,” you say, your tone final. “He needs to focus on his girls and only wants to relax and be selfish when he comes in here. I don’t want to be a burden.”

Mia shrugs and gives you a little curl of her lip. “I don’t think he sees you as a burden, but you should check that out. In person.”

“There’s other stuff I want to see in person, but it’s been…” You lower your voice to a whisper. “We’ve only kinda foreplayed so far.”

Mia tips her head to the side a little, as if confused. “Well. That's interesting. I mean, foreplay is the main act, if you ask me about it. I think—” She turns to the side and addresses Namjoon, “Darling, what would you think if we only did foreplay, no sex?” 

You feel your entire head explode with shame, and you assume Seokjin is having a similar reaction. 

“I would think you really like foreplay, or — given that this context calls for transgression — you've probably been raised to think that foreplay is taboo. Maybe it's something you've been deprived of, and here you want to claim it back.” Namjoon's hand lands on the small of Mia's back and from the way her eyes roll closed and her lips part softly, you can tell that his touch has a certain influence on her. “I know I don't usually deprive you of it, quite the contrary, but if it's affecting you so gravely tonight, then I might as well deliver.”

You look at Seokjin and he's giving you a certain look that you can't quite interpret. 

“You know, if my partner only wanted foreplay, I would simply assume that they really like it,” adds Seokjin, his gaze rolling off of you as he continues. “And that maybe sex is a meaningful experience to them, and they really want to work out all the kinks in it.” 

You stare at him, entirely too surprised at his comment, but he's looking at Namjoon this time. 

The man is giving him a sombre, polished look and you understand his appeal — too bad you've been captured in Seokjin’s orbit a long time ago. 

Within that expectant pause, the bell finally rings. 

Namjoon can't put his hands on Mia fast enough. The woman is thrown over his shoulder as soon as the bell stops ringing, and he's taking large strides towards the private wing. 

“Guess tonight is not for show,” you murmur, then turn to Seokjin. 

You're afraid he's going to chastise you for your confession to Mia, but he doesn't. He's giving you a blank look, his mind impenetrable. 

For a moment you think he's going to deny you, and frankly you wouldn't be too mad. He would be entirely too right, after you violated his trust and his privacy. 

“Seokjin, I—” 

“Behind closed doors, Fawn.” And he leaves you there. 

If you had any chance of going through this unpunished, that chance withered right about now — or rather, a minute ago with the ring of the bell. That's the signal for his personality switch and he's just flipped from cute and quirky father to demanding and domineering sex god. 

You watch him enter the private wing alone, and you can only hope for your room key to be matching his. 

Five agonising minutes later, you realise it does, and it takes you only half a second to realise that you're tragically unprepared for what's waiting for you. 

“On your knees,” he orders as soon as you walk through the door. “We're gonna bruise them tonight, Fawn.” 

You obey, any objection dead on the verge of your lips. 

“I thought I'd been clear about my intentions last time.” 

He had been, fairly so. He'd addressed the foreplay situation and he'd planned on going all the way, which was still sort of new to him, especially considering that he'd been with only three women except his ex wife. And then again, most of that stuff wasn't too daring an experience. He felt a little under pressure with you, and he knew he couldn't quite yet control himself when it came to seeing you naked, much less touching you. 

He had been taking his sweet time when his phone had started blaring. He'd taken five, maybe six seconds to understand what was happening, and then he'd dashed off you, picking up the phone. 

You'd been too confused to understand, and even when he explained, it took you five lonely and cold minutes abandoned alone on the bed to realise he'd left. 

Rose had apparently caught lice from a classmate, the nanny was on the verge of burning the house to the ground and Lily and Daisy were quite panicked by what was going on. Before you could get dressed, he was already on his way home doing damage control. 

“I have responsibilities, Fawn. You know that. I wouldn't have answered that phone call, and I would have taken proper care of you if it had been an option.” He lowers to you on the ground, pleased with the way your eyes look like dark beads of obsidian in the softly lit room. 

He was probably the one who asked for the fireplace to be lit and for a velvety alcove to be prepared right in front of it. 

“And I meant it when I said I wanted something special with you.” He grips your chin, angling your face so that the light from the fireplace can caress the apple of your cheek in a way that makes it most biteable. “I meant it when I said I want to do this right. We can have that now.” 

You lick your lips, trying to smoothen the ugly feeling of a dry mouth. It's hard to think and talk at the same time. 

“I appreciate that you're there for your girls, I just wish you hadn't left me hanging.” You sit on your heels, then shift on all fours and crawl a flirty half step his way, your lashes like expensive and seductive fans of ostrich feathers luring him in, caressing the most tender spots of his body with your gaze. 

You're pleased to notice he's entirely charmed by your allure. 

“I won't deny you tonight, fawn,” he says. “I might as well give it to you right away.” His hand dives for your hair and grips it at the base, giving two subtle and suggestive tugs. You feel a low purr emerge from your throat and he smiles. “Welcome back, my naughty girl.” 

You crawl one more step in the direction he drew you to, and he understands that you got his message. He rises to his feet, then dives his fingers once more in your hair and leads you to the plush lair sprawled in front of the fire.

“Such an obedient little pet,” he praises you. “I wonder what you got for me tonight.” 

He's used to sexy little lingerie numbers — stuff with lots of lace and lots of ribbons. What he's not expecting is for you to drop your chest to the floor, arch your ass up in the air and expose your naked, blooming folds. “I thought I might surprise you for the night.”

Seokjin takes a few seconds to realise there's no g-string, no thong, no wicked contraption waiting to trick him.

Just naked truth, wet, warm skin, laying there for him to claim. 

“Naughty indeed.” He kneels behind you, and he's tempted to rub himself against you and slip inside you after you've begged and prayed and cried for a while; however, he's under the impression that's exactly the game you want him to play.

So he simply sinks his teeth into your ass cheek, then licks the bite away.

“Stay right there.” And he disappears. 

Footsteps echo around the room, then you hear the slide of a drawer. 

He's probably choosing his instrument for the night, and you're aching to turn around and see what he's inspecting. 

You'd also pay good money to know what he felt when he found you naked. 

You'd mostly pay all the money to know what it takes to lose a man like him. 

But that's another story, one that you don't intend to follow, especially since Seokjin is returning to you. 

“We're gonna train you for me.” He kneels behind you and the feel of something extremely cold against your folds causes you to arch your spine up to the ceiling, your pelvis moving away from the sensation.

Seokjin, however, is merciless. With his forearm braced against the middle of your spine, he forces you to arch your spine back down, your entrance bared to him in a lewd, unmistakable way. 

“I want to fuck you with my tongue. You look like dessert covered in icing. You're gleaming with arousal.” And as he talks, he keeps sliding the sphere up and down your folds, your skin so disturbingly sensitive. 

At some point, your hips escape your control and you tilt your ass further up to the ceiling, chasing Seokjin's hand in hope he'll offer you some reprieve. 

But he doesn't. 

Instead he slides something warm and thin inside you, that wiggles and then unfortunately, sadly retreats. 

You only have the time for a hiccup of disappointment before he returns to toy with your folds. 

Seokjin watches you writhe as he sucks on the finger he just extracted from your cunt. It makes him feel powerful, but most importantly, it makes him feel alive. It makes him feel wanted. 

It makes him feel like his own needs matter, that he comes first, which is not an ordinary feeling for a father of three. 

He loves this about you: you put his needs first and you don't make him feel bad about it — that is, he doesn't feel bad about coming first with you. Maybe that's also the reason why he's reluctant about introducing you to his family life. He doesn't need a nanny, or a cook or a housekeeper. He just wants someone he can enjoy those crumbles of spare time he has for himself. 

He freezes. 

Someone to date. 

Realisation is like a mirror shattering to the floor, each shard reflecting one different aspect of him. Father, ex-husband, manager, employer and employee, overachiever, knight-in-shining-armour, but also, somewhere, needy, dark overlord. 

He is all of that. And he is curious about seeing whichever many ways you can stand by his side in every role. 

“Seokjin,” you whisper, barely a moan. You try to lift your hand from where it fell before, abandoned on the lush carpet below you, but it lands again, and grips whatever it can as he slips one sphere inside. 

“There, Fawn. What is it?” He chuckles and the sound that follows — the silvery tinkling of a belt — is like mockery to your ears. 

“Bet this isn’t enough, huh?” He stares at you, at your position on the floor, cheek pressed to the carpet, dress pulled up, and shakes his head. He’d never have thought he could enjoy this, and yet… He loves this. He’s hard from this. 

He kneels down, rotulae hitting the floor with a mildly disturbing thud. He rolls up the hem of his button down, dick so hard it’s reaching his navel. He grips your hip and pulls you closer, the heat of your ass slamming against his hips. 

You gasp. It’s finally happening, you tell yourself. 

“Why so quiet, darling?” he says, bending over, speaking against the shell of your ear. “I thought you’d at least thank me, you know?”

Rubbing your ass against him gives you a rough estimation of how he’d fit against you, inside you. 

He teases his tip against your entrance, slow and wet. The sound of it is slick and lewd, and he can swear it’s the best he’s ever had. 

“Please,” you manage to squeak out, so pathetic, and even needier than that. 

He makes a weird sound in his throat, like a muffled groan, and it makes you even wetter. As your muscles clench, you feel the sphere inside you readjust, massaging a different corner of your inner walls, and it steals a hum of pleasure out of you, a guttural sound, something as animalistic as your current position. 

“Just the tip,” you beg, your voice weak, frayed at the edges. 

You expect him to mock you and deprive you, but the heat of him corrects its trajectory and it’s right up against your centre. 

“How can I not…” he murmurs. “You’re here. Ass up like a bitch in heat.”

Heat bubbles to your cheeks and your back arches even further, offering yourself up. You’re even more embarrassed, but there’s no need to run from him. 

Not after you’ve seen his eyes flicker, wicked, as he cleaned your orgasm from his chin with the back of his hand; not after he’s stuck his fingers in your mouth, his cum still dripping from them, in an attempt to quiet you down from screaming his name through your orgasm. 

“I can’t wait to see how dirtier you can get,” he tells you, then grabs your earlobe with his teeth, tugging a little. 

Saying you grind yourself against him is the largest understatement you could ever concoct. You hump in the most unmistakable way you can. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me. How much longer do you want me to—?”

And he dips in. Just dips, really. Only the tip. “God. Tight,” he gasps. 

You try to push yourself up against him, make him sink deeper, faster. You want to ride him. You want to be the one doing the fucking. 

He can lay back and enjoy, for all that matters — you’re sure you can bounce on his dick until your thighs cramp and you collapse on his chest. And at that point, if he hasn’t come yet, you’re pretty sure you can roll over and he can take over.

“Too greedy, my pretty fawn.” 

And he moves back. Away. 

“You’re gonna make me fold, Fawn,” he whispers. “Too soon.”

And he stands. And there’s that silvery tickling again. 

“No,” you cry out. You turn and rise, just in time to catch him tucking his shirt in. 

Your ass plops down to rest on your heels and you feel tears of frustration bubble up against your lower lashes. “No, please.”

“Too soon, sweet cheeks. Now get back in position.”

You frown. “But—” 

“Fawn, darling.” He gives you a patient look, so sweet, so understanding. 

God, he must be such a good dad, you think for half a second. “But Jin—”

“You know I’m gonna take care of you. Now, if you do as I tell you, we can get this—”

Something vicious snarls inside you. You’re not sure where it comes from, but you bark out, “No.”

Seokjin arches one beautiful eyebrow. “Come again, darling?”

“I said no.”

“Bend over, Fawn.”

You can barely keep a straight face as you finally say, “Make me.”

Seokjin shakes his head. He knows he’s gonna love this. “That's it.” On the inside he's glowing with joy, but he cannot show that, he must punish you. 

Except he knows you love this too. 

He grabs your hair and moves you so that he can make sure you're not going to hurt yourself if you fall: he will be cuffing your hands behind your back, which means you wouldn’t be able to stop your fall if you were to lose your balance, and he needs to be careful.

You're still kneeling on the ground when he lowers himself and uses his own torso to push your own to the plush carpet in front of the fireplace. 

“And now stay. You're playing with fire, Fawn.” 

You feel him step back and remove himself, and you're tempted to disregard his petty request and follow him to the drawer. 

Except you don't, because you know you're already getting what you wanted. And you can still rouse him later if he's not sufficiently harsh. 

“God to know you can still follow a basic, easy order, darling.” The first cuff snaps around your left wrist, and he slips two fingers between your flesh and the metal to make sure it isn't too tight on you. He repeats the same procedure with the other wrist, and the gentle way he checks makes you want to submit immediately. 

He suspends the scene just enough to kiss your palm before caressing the curve of your bottom. “If you want to safeword, remember it's your right, and you can do so at any moment,” he reminds you, practical and kind. 

“I will if I need to,” you say, reassuring him, but also trying to move on to the actual scene. 

“Good. Cause I want you to remember about tonight every time you walk or sit in the next three days.” 

Your stomach knots, awaiting, and you wiggle your ass in the air, your torso still disappointingly clothed. “All I hear is empty threats.” 

That's when the first slap hits. 

It's Seokjin's hand against your ass, but it's harsh and angry, and you know you're going to get exactly what you wanted. 

The impact makes your insides clench, and the sphere shifts against your inner walls. 

You hum in pleasure, your fingers twitching as you try to make the sensation bearable. 

It's truly torture. You're wet, and this weight inside you keeps massaging you, taunting you suggestively. 

“This what you want?” Seokjin asks you, and you nod, knowing that you can tell him, you can trust him. That he will give you more of it because this is all about trusting each other, and giving each other pleasure, and just—

“Fawn. I swear I'm gonna fuck you tonight. But for the love of fuck I need to take the edge off myself or I'm gonna be pathetic.” 

You're currently spooning on all fours, you propped on your knees, breastbone and cheek, while he’s caging you in from above, his thighs bracketing yours, one of his arms pinned just beside your shoulder, the other hand free to roam. 

And right now it lands right on your pubic bone, the ball of his palm resting right against your pelvis. The moment he starts drawing slow circles on your clit, finding just the right spot, your body gives in, and some grinding resumes. 

“You're so fucking hard,” you tell him, and you know just how banal your statement is, but historically, you're not usually smart when he's coercing orgasms out of you, especially with his fingers. 

You grow dumb. 

Your brain can only focus on sensation. 

And there's the sphere situation happening too, just to complicate this further. 

“I told you I need to take the edge off.” 

“You can come on me, you know?”

He chuckles. “Oh darling, that one you'd made clear already.” He registers your sharp inhale and moves more delicately. “Do you need me to slow down?” 

It makes you snort a little petty laugh. “No, it's just—” You release an exhale and move against him more openly, unbridled and luxuriant. “It's strange with the sphere.”

“I just want you to be all relaxed and warmed up when I slip inside you,” he tells you. 

“And I think I'll have to get you some kegel balls. So you can train during the week, when we don't meet.” He kisses your spine and your eyes roll closed. 

All you need is the sensations he's giving you, your body awakening piece by piece. It's like every molecule of you is finding new meaning, new depth, new sensitivity. 

You've never been so aware of each muscle pulling taut. 

“Seokjin,” you whisper, and he hums, he realises you called him and he replies simply, but neither of you can really string words together at this point. 

“Jin… If you—” You're trying to connect word after word, looking for meaning, but your tongue is uncooperative, and you can't quite make sounds into words. 

You want him to keep going. You really do. 

But you also need to take one or fifteen breaths because this is getting too good — maybe too important too. Because you want him now, but it also dawns on you, quite rudely, that you want him all the time. That you've been thinking about him too much lately, even when it's a silly sweet nothing like ordering pizza or washing the sheets. 

What kind of pizza does he like most? 

Would he like the smell of my sheets? Would he find them too light? Too warm? Not soft enough? 

Does he shower warm or cold? 

He moans your name and you shake your thoughts awake — as awake and aware as you can be underneath him.

“Are you close?” he asks, and you know you are, but you can't quantify how long it's going to take you. You were closer for sure before your thoughts had wandered towards the day-to-day life of him.

It's so strange that you would need to focus to stay tethered to your own pleasure; however, quite disappointingly, that's the way it seems. 

“I don't know,” you tell him, not bothering to hide your perplexity. 

“Okay,” he says calmly, then he sucks at the curve of your neck, where it meets your shoulder. “I'll be good,” he says, like a promise. 

You're not used to this amount of patience from him, to this pliability. 

He lifts off of you, his thigh still aligned with yours as his torso separates from your back, then suddenly a liquid coldness spreads over your ass cheeks, and you feel him shudder. 

You turn, curiosity picked by that unexpected feeling, and you spot a bottle of lubricant in your peripherals. Makes sense. 

His hands immediately land on your glutes, spreading the liquid, and he hisses as his dick meets the cold. 

Soon, however, the lube is warmed by the heat of your own skin and he finds himself grinding against you, needy and rough. He grabs at your hips guiding you as you move up against him. 

“Touch yourself, Fawn,” he orders, and you don't make him tell you twice. 

The idea of him using your body, and finding pleasure in it, and marking it as his own arouses you desperately.

You want to be his, and you want to pleasure him. You want to be the thought he conjures about next time he's had a rough day and simply wants to jerk off. You want to be the one he dreams about while he's lost in his huge bed, humping a pillow in his sleep. You want to be the reason he's late in the morning because he caught a thought of you in the shower and he couldn't keep his hands to himself. 

Ultimately, you want to be the reason why this accomplished, bright man gets a little messy once in a while.

You want to be the motive behind his little crimes. You want to be his gateway to temporary thoughtlessness. You want him to be as human, as fallible, as exhausted, as despicable as he needs to be and never allows himself to be. 

You wish to liberate him. 

“I'm gonna—” The words die on his lips as he finally spills against you, your orgasm once more incumbent but also far removed, as if that very close destination could only be reached by an impractically long journey. 

You hear him come, disappointed by the lack of closeness between the two of you, by the fact that this position doesn't allow you to kiss his mouth, or quieten him down, or watch him frantically reach for your breast with his lips so he can muffle his cries against your chest. 

“I thought I had more in me,” he says. “I’m sorry.” 

You assume he's referring to this night. Maybe he's done. Maybe he's not thinking about you at all. 

Maybe he just wants to be serviced, and he's realised just now, and you're on your way to be dismissed.

“It's okay,” you tell him, but you're pretty sure your disappointment bled through the words. Your logical brain is telling you that he’s just referring to coming this fast and not dealing with you first, but you’ve discovered you’re not strong on logic when it comes to him. 

Too bad you can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s embarrassed, and breathless, and truly madly deeply blaming himself for putting you through such a sorry mess. 

Such a disappointment. 

He wants to make it up to you. And he starts doing so with slow, gentle kisses on your nape, a gentle caress of his fingertips moving your hair to the side. 

Dammit, he loves your hair. So soft, and always smelling like vanilla. 

It makes him want to keep you on his lap all the time, so he can dive his nose in it when he’s feeling stressed, inhale you and get high from it. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says simply, studying the viola-like shape of your torso, still wrapped in the tight fabric of your dress. His hands glide reverently from the edges of your shoulders to the narrowing of your waist, admiring your back, then slide to your navel, on your front, climbing back up so he can cup the roundness of your breasts. “The geometry of you… If you could see yourself…” 

He can’t ever bring himself to finish one damn thought. The sight of you gives him no reprieve: he’s entirely overstimulated by everything you offer to him, defeated, even, by it. 

His fingers tease your nipples through your dress and your insides clench from it, the kegel ball rolling inside you and making you purr from him. He smiles and brings himself back on track. 

No distractions this time, he scolds himself, and his body bows off of you. He backs up slowly, unrushed pecks of his lips climbing down the ladder of your vertebrae, and in the meanwhile he undoes the handcuffs. 

You would maybe complain if it weren’t for the fact that you trust him with your own pleasure, blindly.

When the salt of his spilled orgasm meets his parted lips, he lets his tongue slip out, giving a full sweep of a lick, lush, wet and hot. 

You shudder. “What you up to?” you ask, surprised, confused, almost coherent. 

“Just a casual snack,” he murmurs against your wet skin. “It’s not like I’m done with you here.”

You chuckle, nervous, but also thankful. Your heartbreak has been postponed. You push your body back, trying to move closer to him in whatever intuitive way you can. You turn your face on the other side as you know that by now there must be an imprint of the carpet against your cheek. 

The blaze coming from the fireplace in the distance warms your face, and once your eyes roll closed, you realise just how pleasant it is to vaguely perceive the orange of the fire from the back of your eyelids. The flames whisper like lovers, like a hushed breathing sound, like exhales and inhales sharply syncopating each other. Then there’s the cracking of the logs, which perfectly echoes and alternates with the sound of Seokjin’s wet kisses, the clicking of his tongue, and the sucking. 

The sensations come in so sharply in the empty space you’ve carved for yourself. It’s like you’ve muted the rest of the world except Seokjin and that eyeless voyeur that is the fire. 

When Seokjin speaks again, it surprises you and causes a somersault to your stomach, for his voice his so deep and quiet and intimate. It’s the sexiest you’ve ever heard from him. 

“Spread your pretty thighs for me, darling.”

You can tell you just gushed out more wetness at your core. That’s what he can get from you, just by using his voice alone. 

As soon as you follow his order, he lays with his back on the floor, the width of his shoulders finding its slot in between your parted knees. His hands find your butt and he uses it to readjust your stance. 

“Won't you give me just a taste, darling, please?” he says, and you adore just how imploring he is, but at the same time smooth and gallant too.

You love it when he asks you, all chivalrous, about treating you like his own personal slut. 

He kisses the inside of your thigh and you find your thighs spreading even further, as you lower your hips a tiny inch closer to the floor — or rather, closer to his awaiting mouth. 

“I swear I'm gonna beg if I have to, Fawn. Fucking please.” 

He twists his head to the other side and bites the soft flesh on the inside of your leg. His teeth sink gently, sending sparks of pleasure all over your body. “Won't you put me out of my misery, darling?” 

“I love it when you beg,” you admit, propping your front up on your elbows first, then on your palms. “It's different from your usual demanding self.”

Your eyes meet his and you notice a spark of uncertainty there. “Do you want me to be harsher? To command you?” 

You smile meekly, fondly. “I like you best precisely the way you are.” 

You can't see it in the penumbra, but heat has crept to his cheeks, and it's mostly your compliments' fault.

He grabs your waist, appreciating how easily his thumb and forefinger rest at its narrowest point, then invites you to lower your pelvis some more.

At this point, you find yourself more comfortable in a kneeling position, your chest lifted, your thighs in a slightly narrower stance as you lower your ass to his chest, your weight still partially held by your hands, propped on the floor near your knees. 

He doesn't speak before he acts. He simply grabs your ass again and zeroes in with his lips on your clitoris. 

Bliss is instantaneous. 

He starts torturing you immediately with long sucking motions, driving you insane, and when you try to remove yourself, he doesn't allow you to. 

Your brain immediately recalls your safeword, but you can't find the final straw that urges you to use it.

You're feeling pleasure— no, actually you are pleasure. 

It blooms from you immediately, six or seven slow, stubborn licks after. You brace yourself for the tide rising, but you can't resist it anyway, and soon you find yourself fucking his face, so sexy as it appears in between your naked parted thighs, your dress still on, hitched up around your waist. 

His eyes are closed, as if he were feeling it too. He’s the picture of passion, entirely dedicated, single-minded about your ecstasy. 

As you’re coming down, you reach for his hair with your left hand, your fingers digging through his luscious locks, tugging just the way he likes, with intention, but also not too roughly. You expect him to back off, but he opens his eyes, stares at your open mouth, at your feverish gaze— and keeps going. 

You swear as he starts veering into overstimulation, his nails digging in your ass. 

Pleasure becomes pain, which feeds pleasure even further. 

Fire blooms inside you, its many tongues setting each of your limbs ablaze. 

The second orgasm comes with a scream — your own — and some moaning from Seokjin which only confirms a certain sense of accomplishment. 

Meanwhile the kegel ball has warmed to your inner heat, your muscles constricting around it in a vicious grip, giving you that fullness that is enough to enhance your pleasure without truly fulfilling it. 

“God, more, please…”

Seokjin chuckles, bathing your inner thighs in soft kisses and sweet little bites. “I love it when you call me god.”

You sit yourself back on his face and giggle. “Oh, shut up.”

His arms tighten like a vice around your legs, his hands pushing your dress further up, exposing the hill of your pelvis, just above the parting of your labia. 

He lands some kisses there, sucking, enjoying the soft, plump skin, and the plumpness he leaves in his wake. 

Heat rushes wild under the flesh he kisses, sensitivity heightened, capillaries blooming with fullness. 

“Lower yourself to the floor, pretty thing,” he hums, and he’s so cruelly persuasive that you obey, your shoulders pressed to the back of your hands, elbows tucked in tight by the sides of your waist. “As low as you can, Fawn,” he recommends. 

Once you do, he gives a powerful swing with his shoulders, causing you to swap positions so that your back ends up on the floor and he is finally on top of you. 

“Back the way it's supposed to be,” he says, at once free to exercise all the control he needs. “I'm not even sure I need you naked,” he says, kissing your navel, the crests of your hips, the junction between your thighs and your hips. 

He lifts the hem of your dress, the stretchy knit giving him room to stick his head under the fabric. 

He attaches himself to your nipple as soon as he finds it, his hand climbing up to your chest and starting to toy with your other breast. 

“You could also undress me, you know,” you tease him, but apparently he is really busy and your spine is arching off the floor, and you can feel the wetness of his mouth against the precious lace of your bra. 

“Shut up,” he says, his voice lost in bliss, and he's moving the cup of your bra just below your breast, baring your nipple. “I'll be busy for the next three working days. Do not call me, email me, or text me. I'm worshipping nipples.” 

You laugh and you suddenly clench at the way the laughing twists the sensation of his sucking your breast, making it a fluttery and yet intense feeling. 

He gets his head out of your dress and kisses your neck instead. “I really like this dress,” he tells you. “I also really like the lack of panties, though that must have been slightly uncomfortable.” 

“It felt a little bit weird, yes. I was afraid I was going to flash someone.” 

He chuckles, then freezes. “You might have. Are you sure you haven't?” 

Feeling him all serious, you become serious too. “I don't know?” You start worrying a little. Would that be a violation to the rules of the club? 

“You're telling me someone else might have seen this?” He cups your vulva with his hand, and the pressure is mind-numbing. It takes you maybe two or three seconds to respond, your thoughts like arrows that deviate their trajectory towards your crotch. 

“Seokjin, I—” 

He sticks two fingers inside you and tightens his grip on you. “Fawn. This. This belongs to me. Okay?” 

You shiver at how stern he sounds. “Yes.”

“Do you understand?” 

“Yes, I do.”

Seokjin nods to himself. “Good. Now get out of this damn dress.” 

“You, get out of your clothes too,” you order, trying to be just as stern, but he laughs at you, rubbing your G-spot inside you. 

“I think your silly, sex-addled brain got confused.” He grips your face with his free hand, squishing your cheeks together. “I tell you what to do, Fawn. And you do it.” 

You're taken aback by just how patronising his words are. How silly and insignificant they make you feel. How even wetter you get. 

You arch off the carpet and slip your dress off, tugging and pulling, until your body is finally free. 

Seokjin studies the way the fire dances on your skin, the way your breasts rise and fall with your ragged breathing. 

“Good girl, Fawn.” He leans over and kisses your breast, then gives a fat lick to the sensitive skin before blowing over it in a way that makes you shiver. “So fucking sensitive.” 

He's beginning to undo his shirt, towering over you as he sits up on his knees and lets his fingers make a quick work of the buttons, his teal satin shirt coming undone quickly. 

He manages to shrug it off easily, the expanse of his chest finally emerging in front of you. He notices how enchanted you are by it, how mesmerised. 

The contrast between the fairness of his skin and the raspberry pink of his nipples is stark and seductive. You now understand colour theory and why animals always eat at the brightest-coloured fruit. 

You sit up, leaning on your hands, your mouth searching for his chest, but with a finger pressed to your sternum he pushes you back down. 

“Sit still for a second, for fuck’s sake,” he scolds you, then tries to get rid of his trousers, which proves to be truly challenging in a kneeling position. 

He tuts, frustrated, then convinces himself to stand back up, finally pushing his trousers and briefs down, shimmying out of them too in an attempt to get naked faster. 

You’re already on your knees in front of him, waiting, lips parted, hoping he’s going to use your mouth for his pleasure, and you try to invite him to, kissing his thigh, caressing it with your teeth, then giving it a kittenish lick. 

He grabs you by the cheeks, then forces you to look up at him. “I thought you were a smart, obedient girl, Fawn. Are you not?”

You’re still kneeling in front of him, mouth parted, eyes wide aimed at his face. You try to appear as dollish and harmless as possible. 

“I wouldn’t like to think wanting to get fucked turned you into a silly girl, mh?”

He’s so hard, right in front of you, and the sphere inside you is not enough, not anymore. You need him moving in and out of you. You need fullness, you need to be more than what you can take. 

You need him rough, needy, harsh, unforgiving, relentless and fastidiously specific about how he wants to fuck you.

You can almost put your mouth on him. Almost. 

You frown. “Please,” you whine, wetting your lips with the tip of your tongue. 

He smiles, then snorts. “So desperate…”

Your inner muscles flutter at his cocky tone. 

He kneels back, at your same height. “Spread your legs, love,” he tells you, and you keen at the pet name, which makes him caress your cheek fondly. “Come on, let me fuck you, Fawn.”

You part your knees further and his hand slips from your cheeks to your chin, then to your neck, gripping it suggestively, then caresses your breast and follows the axis of your midriff, twirls around your navel and settles at your pubis. 

You wet your lips again, your breath caught in your throat, your gaze tantalised by the movement of his hands. 

He spreads your labia, covering his fingers in your wetness, then he dives for your entrance, catching the sphere inside and helping it out. 

“You should be warm and stretched now, right?” he asks you, then brings the toy to his mouth. 

You stare at him, daring him to do exactly what he does next. He opens his mouth and takes a lick at the ball, tasting you. 

“This wet cause I made you come?” he asks, and you nod, stunned. He brings the sphere to your nipple and rubs it against your breast gently, drawing a small circle on it. “Sweet,” he coos, then sucks your freshly moistened nipple in his mouth.

You moan like you never have, your hips starting to move in an attempt to grind against something. 

You’re almost on the edge by the time he releases your skin from his lips. “Seokjin,” you beg, grabbing his hair and combing it back. “Please, Seokjin, I need it. I need it.”

He sits on his heels, his free hand landing on the small of your back and pulling you closer. “Come close, Fawn. I want to look into your eyes as you take it.”

Your frown can’t even begin to express how desperate you feel. You want him, now, and you’re about to have him. But a part of you is suddenly remembering that you’ll have to let go of him again at the end of the night. 

You shake off the bad thoughts and take him in your hand, but he swats it away. 

“When I say so,” he scolds you, so you place your hands on his shoulders for leverage and when you’re ready to sit on his lap, he grips himself steady and aims his tip at your entrance. 

“Can’t wait to hear you moan as I fill you up, love.”

You bite your lip and the head of his dick slips in effortlessly, smooth and hot. 

A sigh of relief leaves your throat and he smiles. “Goddamn, so warm,” he whispers, then gives you a few more inches — just three or four. Not yet all of them. 

“How does it feel, my Fawn?” he speaks softly. “Still hungry for more?”

You nod, feeling just how full, how magnificent it feels to have more, and to know there’s more to take. 

“You really needed my dick, mh?” He gives you one more inch and you start wincing, just a little. It’s thick and it’s warm, and it feels so right to squeeze it with your muscles, your orgasm starting to build. 

Seokjin looses control for a moment, and that’s all it takes for him to conclude his stroke, sinking all the way to the hilt. 

A gasp escapes you and he seems surprised too. 

He blinks a few times, then his gaze seems to focus on you. “Hello,” he says, with a large smile. “Fawn, I guess I needed inside you just as bad as you did.”

You chuckle and he grips the back of your neck and dives to kiss you. 

The tang of your taste is strong on his tongue, but you don’t dislike it. The kiss is soft, gentle, unrushed and tender. 

“Let me know when I can move,” he tells you. 

You nod. 

“Touch yourself,” he orders you, then starts stroking for real. 

He’s deep and slow, like he’s keeping himself in check, aiming at you coming undone. 

Which you do, in record time, moaning like you’ve never had good sex in your entire life, and at this point you’ve come to suspect so. 

You’ve given yourself good sex. You’ve splurged on a good realistic dildo, and you’ve learnt to fuck yourself right with it, but when Seokjin moves inside you, you doubt you truly ever reached ecstasy in your decades of existence. 

When you do come, it’s his name you scream, shameless, loud, and you don’t care since the entire building is made of people who are in several different states of erotic debauchery. 

Seokjin is proud, fulfilled, your pleasure finally achieved. 

He can now focus on his now. 

He recovers the kegel ball he slipped out of you, still hooked on his finger by the strap, and brings it in front of you. “I might get rough.” He seems unsure, and cheeky too, as he adds, ”How do you feel about a muffler?”

Your eyes widen. You think about it for a millisecond, then it seems obvious. “Go ahead,” you tell him, then open your mouth. 

“God, I love you,” he says. 

And you both stop. 

“Shit, I mean—” Seokjin is panicking. 

“I know,” you say calmly, trying to reassure him. 

He seems like he didn’t mean it. Not like that, at least. “I love this. Between us,” he adds

And you can agree about that. “I do, too.” 

He seems conflicted, unresolved. “Fill my mouth then fill me up, Seokjin. It’s not complicated.”

It really is, because you want all the feelings that come with this, and that are plenty more complicated than two hours of giving and taking everything you need for yourselves. It’s more than getting rid of tension and snatching all the pleasure you can.

He’s still hesitating, so you nudge the sphere with your nose and chin until you manage to catch it with your mouth. 

Both his hands are free now and he decides to grab your ass immediately, shoving your hips back down on him. “Damn right,” he grunts. 

He’ll give you what you want, he’s decided. Everything you want. He’ll keep to himself the complicated bits. 

You hum a short, clipped sound as he lifts you just a little and pulls you down again. Again, even faster than before. 

You start getting his pattern, cooperating as he gets more frantic, more forceful. 

Saliva is starting to gather in your mouth, the ball making it too difficult to swallow. You’re getting messy, and you decide to get messier still, to fuck the worries out of his brain, out of your own too. 

You’re glad he’s flexible, because you manage to make him shift from a lotus position to a rowdy cowgirl. There you go faster still, and he’s gasping your name, staring at your breasts, gripping them, slapping them too as they dangle over his face. 

You clench on him as he does, and he whines even louder. 

It makes you territorial, and maybe sadistic, because next thing you know, you’re removing the toy from your mouth and placing it on the floor — it is no longer welcome in your and Seokjin’s little game. 

Now it’s only the two of you, and may the strongest opponent win. 

You trace his pout with your fingers, and he parts his lips easily. Your middle and ring finger slip inside, and he lets you open his mouth wider. 

You lean over him, lower yourself to him, closer, your bellies sticking together, your hips still pistoning on him. 

Your tongue and cheeks are still coated in the thick wetness and saliva from the improvised gag-ball, so you just leave your lips agape and the thick liquid plops out, from your tongue on his. 

His eyes go wide and he grows more frantic still, going desperate while he licks his lips clean. “God, Fawn. Please,”

“Oh, did the tables turn…”

He smiles a desperate smile, begging you with his eyes. You allow him the final squeeze of your kegels, and he finally, finally comes. 

His arms wrap around you like vines, like he’s ivy, and he depends on you, needs you, wants to cling to your forever. 

He starts pushing from below and it’s a punishment divine and sinful at the same time. 

It shouldn’t feel this good, and yet it does, so you take it as best as you can. 

It feels like stealing, and you’re not sure you’re okay when he slips out. “A quick break, let me recover,” he begs. “Not done though.”

Seokjin is great at recovering, this one you’ve learnt. Maybe he doesn’t jerk off by himself. Maybe he keeps himself at bait so he can go all out when he’s with you. 

Nevertheless, he takes ten or so minutes to himself, where he just lays with you on top of him, his dick inside you, softening, while he strokes your body. 

“I don’t know what I meant with what I said earlier,” he admits. 

“We don’t need to talk about this right now,” you tell him, and maybe you’re just trying to save your poor little heart. Sure, saying you love him would be an exaggeration, but you definitely like this man, and you like his heart, his personality, and most importantly, the way he treats you and understands your needs. 

“I feel like we should.” He’s caressing your spine. “I—”

“Why did your ex-wife let go of you? How did she give up on sex this good? How did she get this and not…? Stay?” You ask. And you need the answer. Maybe that will make you swallow the lump in your throat. He wants to discuss difficult topics? Then let’s do that. 

“I—” He’s clearly caught by surprise. “I was not like this. With her. With other women.” His hand stops, resting on the curve of your ass. “We were just… No longer in love with each other. We still love each other, but we don’t long for each other anymore. We love each other for the three beautiful lives we created together, for our family, for the memories, but we don’t… We want to build different paths. And that’s fair.”

You nod, then settle back on his chest, drawing patterns on it with your fingers. He’s starting to stir inside you, you can tell. Feeling him awaken like this is fulfilling, arousing too. “And you let go?”

“We did.” He squeezes your butt fondly. “We— Me and my ex didn’t have sex often. I needed it, I guess, but I never asked. She didn’t seem to want it. Passion was never part of the equation.”

“But three kids? I—”

“We wanted a big family. She did, especially. But it’s not like we tried a lot. We were just lucky. And I don’t regret that, not even a second. After Daisy we stopped altogether. We were basically celibate for more than a year.”

You nod, then look at him. “So this thing with me is like—?”

He chuckles, his hips shifting in a way that tells you he’s ready again, or soon will be. “This is the most selfish and passionate I’ve been in the last five years. I guess that’s why I said what I said earlier.” He’s blushing, eyes averted. “But that doesn’t mean I value you only for selfish reasons.” He forces himself to look at you again. “I actually like you a lot. But I don’t know what to do because stuff gets complicated when you have kids, especially young kids like mine.”

You nod some more. “You like me?!” You say after three seconds, tires screeching in your brain as you process his words. 

He smiles, his laugh rippling from his stomach to yours. “Yeah, that one sure. Pretty sure about it, yeah.”

“And—”

“And I waited this long to tell you because I wanted to be sure, but also because I wanted to be sure it meant something to you too. I wanted to feel safe with you.” He smooths your hair by your temple, removing a strand that was obstructing your eye. “I wanted to have sex when I was sure you meant something for me. I think sex is something meaningful. Important. I wanted to get there step by step.”

You rise from his chest, stare at him, confused, like your world has been just flipped inside out. “I thought you didn’t—”

“I did.” He chuckles, just a little, then places a hand on your waist and flips the two of you upside down. 

He’s on top of you, and he’s got a point to prove. “Last time I really did. I was this close,” he says, and he strokes out, then in, slowly.

You moan his name, and he dives to your lips. “Such a pretty way to moan for me, Fawn. Telling everyone who’s fucking this sweet, warm, cosy pussy.” He stops once he bottoms out and speaks through gritted teeth: “As I was saying before you interrupted me, I really wanted to, last time. I was sure I was going to get your number and invite you for dinner afterwards. But the babysitter and fucking lice and—”

You laugh. He’s fucking you so good and yet you end up talking about mundane stuff and he’d so handsome above you but you really want him to take you from behind — your mind is frazzled. 

“I wanted to fuck you and keep you till morning, and then get you breakfast, and ask you for a date.”

Your heartbeat stumbles. “A date?”

He stops. “God. Don’t tell me you—” He slips out. “You don’t… Uhm. It’s— You don’t see me like that, right?”

He seems defeated, embarrassed too, maybe, but mostly lost.

“Oh, not that!” You rush to clarify, “I mean, I do! I do see you like that, I mean!” You grab him by the shoulders, then cup the sides of his neck and kiss him, because you’re making a mess and you know that you’re going to kiss him right and show him just how much this means to you. 

“I love that you waited to have sex with me.” You caress his face. “It meant a lot, because I don’t think I was ready to have sex straight away.”

“I wanted to since I first saw you,” he says, and you kiss him some more, to show him you like what he’s telling you, that you want him to keep going. “But I needed time to process just what I wanted, and how.”

“I noticed you staring.”

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. I wanted to be matched with you so bad, but I was scared we wouldn’t combine. Maybe we were incompatible.”

You smile. “I’m so glad this is happening.”

He slips an arm underneath your back and helps you up, until you’re both sitting up again, your chin resting on his shoulder, and you’re about to abandon yourself in his arms when you notice something in a corner of the room. 

“Hold up,” you tell him. 

He pulls back, looking you in the face. “What’s wrong?” 

You shake your head, then kiss him softly, gingerly. “Just wait.”

You rise and let him slip out of you, his dick deliciously covered in your and his cum. 

He watches you rise and follows you with his gaze, studying the way the fire dances on the planes of your skin. His mouth waters. “Fawn, love, no need to—”

“Yes!” you exclaim, then he notices you’re moving a full-length mirror closer to your alcove by the fireplace. It’s a wheeled mirror, which can be rolled around to better be included in the scene. You place it in front of Seokjin, who studies you standing beside it, then looks at his reflection. “I wanted this so bad,” you tell him, “but I wanted to look you in the eye and I don’t like the fact that you gotta face away for it.”

You sit in front of him, then turn your back to him and head back to your position on all fours, just like you started. 

Seokjin shakes his head. “I’ve never understood doggy before hitting it with you,” he says, his hands skating down your sides. 

He slips in and you both hiss, but pleasure rises faster than pain. The first stroke is heaven already. “I’m gonna be fucking you like this for weeks to come.”

“I’m gonna hold you accountable for that,” you tease. 

He nods, then wraps an arm around you, his hand sprawled against your sternum, and he pulls you up, with your back against his chest. 

He can feel your crazed heartbeat, and you can feel his against your spine. 

“I’m gonna get rough, Fawn.” He bites your neck, not aggressively, but with passion. “Fuck, you make me wild.” He jabs into you. “With your pretty eyes.” Once more. “And your pretty, dirty mouth.” He slides out, then stuffs himself back in and you gasp. “And the way you get dumb and filthy when you need to come.” His hand climbs to your throat, without gripping, just a gentle warm caress, as if to protect it, and help you hold your head upright. “The way you mix innocence and debauchery.” It’s like he’s trying to burrow himself inside you, swallowing your frame into his. “You’re a delight of a little bitch.”

You’re touching yourself now, and he stares at it in the mirror, at the frantic circles of your fingers on your clitoris, at the way your tits wiggle at his thrusts.

Your lips are parted wide, and you’re starting to fall, he can tell, your eyes closing slowly. You’re fluttering for him, inside, and he’s gritting his teeth, plunging inside you more furiously. “Come on, come for me, my little bitch. Show me how much you love this dick.”

And so you do.

He thanks you softly and compliments you as you start coming apart for him, his own pleasure coming together and unraveling at last as you both spiral into each other. 

It’s apotheosis, the way you melt into each other, your essence becoming one. It’s completion. It’s finality. It’s your destination. 

You’re both left panting, exhausted, and this time you’re not sure Seokjin will recover as easily as he had before. 

“Holy smokes,” you exhale, and he meets your eyes in the mirror. His cheeks are adorably flushed, and his eyes are dark and drowsy. He’s still panting. “Very worth it. Every second.”

“Kudos for the mirror. Excellent idea.”

“We need to add that to the list.”

“Definitely.”

He kisses a spot near the hollow of your throat, nibbling the skin there just right. 

He stays buried inside you still, and has pretty much no intention of getting out. 

“Are you alright?” he asks you, his fingers skimming your belly, caressing you, but also trying to keep you warm. He wants to grab a robe for you, but he doesn't want to be detached from you yet. 

“I'm just fine,” you reassure him, rubbing his thigh to comfort him. 

“Was it too rough?” he asks and you shake your head immediately. 

“Are you kidding? It was just perfect!” you tell him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

He stays quiet for a while then says, “Are we okay with… With what I said earlier? About… About feelings?” 

You blink repeatedly. “I think…” You pause. “I think it's fair, what you feel. And—” You shake your head and giggle. “I hope you did mean to ask me on a date.”

He chuckles, then wraps his arms more tightly around you. “Breakfast. The girls are with their mom tonight, we could sleep here—” He kisses a sweet spot at your nape— “Or not sleep at all,” he suggests, “and wake up in the morning and go for breakfast.” He contemplates the option, studying your face in the mirror. “It's up to you, my beautiful Fawn.”

You just shake your head yes, smiling brightly.

“I need to be clear from the start, though. If my situation with my terminated marriage, and with my kids scares you or disturbs you in any way, I would like to know it right now.” 

You shake your head vigorously. “I'm okay with that, as long as you're sure you're ready to try this for real.” You feel your eyes grow avoidant and your cheeks heat as you add, “I must admit, Seokjin, that I got it quite bad for you. If you were in this with no intention of things getting serious, I think I would be—” You search for the word. “I'd be disappointed. Strongly.”

He nods, then swallows you in his frame, your torso and his like two juxtaposed crescents. “I'm looking for something real. Something passionate and steady and reliable. Someone I can be a man with, a friend, and a father, and a partner too. I need someone for myself. Someone who can be mine, but also someone I can belong to.”

You nod then turn to look him in the eye, your bodies still spooned. You stretch to his lips and he kisses you, his eyes staring at your mouth before it goes out of focus.

It's immediately a matter of tongues and wetness and sucking, with just the right amount of teeth. His hands lose their peaceful rest and return to tantalising, seductive touches, veering south. 

“Already?” you purr against his mouth, a slow smile already crumbling. 

“You've got no idea what you started,” he says, tempting. 

You chuckle, your laugh and his mixing. And you tell him, “Show me.” 

More in this AU | MYG | KNJ

General masterlist

[youbutstupid]

Penelope Garcia has, what I have dubbed, the curse of being the happy friend, in the sense that everyone loves her and appreciates her joy until they’re not in the mood and then she suffers from their wrath

Every single BAU member has done this to her and whilst it may not necessarily their fault, it obviously does not make it easier for Garcia to deal with. The moment one of them is going through a tough time, they don’t want to hear Garcia’s happiness anymore and treat her horribly

Most notable times are Hotch in early season 5, Morgan in early season 6 and Prentiss during the Doyle situation. Garcia is happy and funny and everyone loves that about her and they use her energy but the moment they’re having a bad day, it’s her that suffers the brunt of their bad mood

Suddenly they view her chirpiness as a bad thing and she suffers because of it

I don’t blame the team members completely for this as they were all going through something stressful; to me the problem is when the fans attack Garcia for it. I’ve seen fans call her annoying for how she was with Prentiss during the Doyle situation or Morgan during early season 6 but she quite literally has done nothing wrong. She was just existing and being herself as she always does and the team usually love that about her so why would she act any different? Why SHOULD she act any different?

Hating on Garcia is odd considering she carried all of the lighthearted scenes in the early seasons; without her the show would have had no comedic moments. She also acted as the main source of support for every single character on that show at some point

[tortugatalks]

𝗪𝗞 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝘄 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗦/𝗢 𝗶𝘀 𝗖𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗪𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗮 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗔𝗱𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲|ᴴᶜˢ

𓆉 gender neutral reader

𓆉 established romantic relationship

𓆉 warnings: hcs with the tiniest hint of angst! no explicit descriptions of blood or gore, but it's sort of implied for some. no mentions of precise injuries. can be left up to the reader's interpretation!

Martin Kratt

━ siren sounds are blaring in his head and he automatically feels a heavy downpour of guilt. how could he let this happen? he's supposed to be looking out for you and his brother! there's no time to dwell on these thoughts though, so he pushes it all to the back of his mind and makes a sharp bee-line towards you.

━ very touchy and invasive of your personal bubble, but at a time like this? who cares?? he uses his hands to search your body for any open wounds or abnormalities. quickly, but with intense care. he has chris contact hq while he keeps his eye on you, practically cradling you in his arms.

━ extremely mindful and capable of maintaining his composure. seeing him panic might not be the best for you, so he sticks to his guns and tries to be level-headed about all this. he softly holds your face, gently brushes your tears away with his thumbs and tells you that you're going to be okay—that you're strong, and that you'll be in good hands. repeat after him: i'm going to be okay. chris is also very quick to jump in and help. whatever martin may need, he's quick to get any supplies out the tiny medkit they brought along.

━ no matter the degree of the injury, he carries you back to hq in his arms. he'll talk to you about anything and everything along the way to get your mind off the pain. of course, you still feel how excruciating the pain is, so the best thing he can do for now is hold you close.

━ once you've reached the tortuga, he'll gently place you on the round-table, caress your face and kiss the side of your head before he lets aviva and koki take it from there. he knows you'll be okay, and while the girls are doing everything they can for you, he takes to stepping outside to get some air. chris and jimmy join him and they'll talk to each other about everything that's happened (they're here for each other after all <3)

━ the moment koki steps out to let them know that you're all good and awake, he zooms his way towards you. the second he sees you, relief washes over him and he shows you the largest smile ever. he jokes here and there about how tough you are, to which you both laugh in response, but after that? the mood noticibly dies down, a frown now visible on his face. you know what he's going to say, and so you try to speak before he does, but he cuts you off. he apologizes to you—says that he's sorry, that he was supposed to be looking out for you, but didn't. things could've been so much worse. you can't even interject before he's talking over you, so you'll literally have to raise your voice or something 'cause none of this is his fault, nor should he be the one bearing all responsibility. he did what he could, and you're more than thankful for that.

━ doesn't take long before he's back to his chirpy self. whatever you need, he's at your service! he's such a chatterbox too! he could spend hours just talking with you. of course, you'll probably be all groany about how you'd like to go on a creature adventure with the guys again. he knows that you know that you can't do that, but when you give him those eyes? well, maybe he can take you out the tortuga without anyone noticing and have you walk around base. but that's it! just around base! he also does this thing where he sends you goofy pictures of himself and the creatures he meets as he's out creature adventuring with his brother. yknow? to show you that you're on his mind! <3

Chris Kratt

━ his blood runs cold. a total whiplash. he's stuck staring at you for what seems like a hot minute trying to process what happened, and once it finally registers in his brain, he's off running to your aide, his voice light—almost frail—as he calls out to you.

━ tries so so hard to stay calm for you, but he just can't. he doesn't panic outwardly, no, but he's got a heavy frown on his face, eyebrows burrowed deep into his skin and you can practically feel his hands tremble uncontrollably from the shock as he tries to assess how bad your injury is.

━ you can hear martin inform the rest of the gang about your state on his creature pod while chris is constantly asking you questions. his voice is barely above that of a whisper as if any sudden loud sound would be enough to shatter you entirely. what hurts? how bad does it hurt? does it hurt anywhere else? he wants you to be very specific with him—breathe in and out for him, please—he knows it's not easy but he needs to handle this appropriately. for you.

━ he pulls out the medkit from his pocket and patches you up as much as he possibly can. his lips are pressed into a thin line and there's an uncomfortable look in his eyes that urges you to tell him that you'll be okay—that he shouldn't worry. he's be beyond perplexed, honestly. isn't he supposed to be the one saying all those things to you right now? regardless, you are his main priority right now and immediately thinks to bring you back to the tortuga with the help of his brother.

━ having arrived at the tortuga, he and his brother waste no time in setting you down on the main table. he firmly squeezes your hand and tells you that you'll be alright before he gives aviva and koki their space. he sticks to waiting for you rather than occupying himself with something else. he's still experiencing slight hand tremors, but he's in too deep thinking about how you must be feeling that he kind of disregards his own emotions for a bit. however, as may be expected, martin's there to check in and comfort him along with jz.

━ post medical procedure, he plans on sticking to your side like glue. he smiles when he meets your gaze, but it doesn't quite match his restless eyes. you're very well aware that although you may be well, he, internally, is not. reach your arms out to him and he will break. he'll press his face onto your shoulder, clinging onto you desperately like you're the one who could keep him from falling apart completely. he doesnt say a word; only sobs into the crook of your neck. fear, relief—his beating heart mouthing it against yours. hold him, tight, and let go just enough to look him in the eye. you're okay.

━ he knows that you'll have to stay in the tortuga for a while. its a bummer, really, but he's wholeheartedly okay with it. complain about how you can't go out creature adventuring with his brother and him and he'll playfully roll his eyes, a soft chuckle following right after. this, however, does prompt him to use a very handy contraption. enter: the fly-cam! that way, even though you'll be inside, you'll get to follow the bros on their creature missions in real time! he'll talk to you through it as if you were really there. it's honestly very sweet when he tells you to fly over to get a close look at something with him. lots of 'did you see that?!' and ahhhh its always the little things with him! <3

Aviva Corcovado

━ it's as if time around her has stopped. she stays frozen for a bit, almost unresponsive before she snaps out of it and realizes that she's gotta do something! she tells you through the big screen that you have to hang in there and that you'll be okay. nothing bad is going to happen, not anymore, not if she has anything to say about it. she firmly requests that the bros take you to the tortuga and do everything they can to care for you in the meantime (which i mean, they already were so <3)

━ she's aware that if anything, the three of you have to return to hq, so in preparation, she runs around the tortuga and gets a hold of any supplies you may need. extra bandages, ice packs, you name it! then? she has jimmy send them to you via the teleporter. with koki's help, they both get started on setting up all medical equipment necessary stat.

━ her brain is racking up several million thoughts a minute trying to think of what she can do for you. you'll be fine, she knows this... right? she shakes her head to snap out of it. pessimism will get her nowhere. of course you'll be okay! but what after that? she plans on being steps ahead with brainstorming ideas for inventions that might make your life a little easier post-treatment.

━ once she sees you enter the tortuga with the brothers' help, her heart physically hurts witnessing your pain. very empathetic, but there's no time to get all teary eyed! not now. you need her, so she hastily urges the bros to bring you onto the round-table and with the gentlest of touches, she's already hard at work analyzing and treating your injury alongside koki.

━ once you're all treated and conscious, she can't help but exclaim how relieved she is in her mother tongue. she doesn't outwardly chastise you, not after what you've been through, but she does voice her concerns and makes it clear that she's a little vexed with you. her face contorts into that of a frustrated expression before it falters. she'll cup your cheek and will softly make you look at her, her lips downturned with a slight quiver to them. you have to be more careful next time! promise her. do so, and her face will soften. she'll press feather-like kisses to your forehead, and if you are to shyly chuckle, she'll giggle along with you.

━ a-pa-pap! that's no indication of you being off the hook though! sorry, but any word of creature adventuring from you is a no-go. top priority here is a quick and healthy recovery! you can't really do that if you're constantly using the miniaturizer, activating your creature power suit, or running out and about. she is not taking any chances! try to get yourself out the tortuga and she'll only snicker. your attempts will always be rendered futile <3

━ as mentioned earlier, she does everything in her power to properly accommodate your needs. tell her what you may require and she's on it in the blink of an eye! she'll admit, she does feel bad seeing you sulk, but not to worry! she does her best to find things for you to do! she'll happily accept you helping her out with her inventions, she's totally down to just sit atop the tortuga with you and nature-watch, so for you? anything. want her in on your interests? she's more than happy to indulge you! if you're up for it, she'll gladly watch telenovelas with you.

Koki

━ she knows something is wrong the moment she sees the look of worry plastered all over chris' face. she's always had a sixth sense for things that aren't quite right and she's been feeling it even before chris called in. harrowingly, having her gut feeling been proved right, her heart begins to speed up almost instantly when he tells the gang that something terrible has happened to you.

━ not a moment is wasted as she asks him ton loads of questions. what injuries do you have? what were you all doing in the first place? where are you right now? how are you? oh you four are sooo gonna have a talk about all this! there's no getting out of this one, she swears it. she's a bit scary with her interrogations, but everyone knows that she's just beyond frightened.

━ once she gets all the info she needs, she disconnects from the line and promptly urges aviva to help her set up some kind of med-bay and orders jimmy to fly the tortuga to your location. they're ahead of it though! you don't gotta tell them twice!!

━ she attempts to calm herself down by breathing in and out, but when she finally gets to see your state in person? she's speechless and starts feeling tremendously uneasy. she can hardly ever stomach seeing blood, cuts, bruises and all sorts of stuff like that, but she sets all those thoughts aside the moment you're placed on the table. you're more important! she makes a mental note to have jimmy stop someplace with a pharmacy to stock up on medication for you.

━ as much as she tries to maintain her cool, she's clearly and very visibly frustrated as she tends to your wounds. not angry. she could never be angry at you.

━ once you're properly tended to and awake, she immediately springs out and asks you what you were thinking. she's going off and all you can do is listen. you can try telling her that you're okay now, that it's not a big deal and she cracks. she doesn't mean to sound so harsh, but she was scared. her eyes are glossy, which is more than enough to take you aback. when everything's been said and done, she doesn't wait for you to reply and pulls you in for a hug. return the hug and tell her that you're alive and well—that you're here to stay no matter what. please hold her. kiss her on the shoulder and rub her back in soothing circles! you were out like a light for a few hours but to her it felt like an eternity.

━ she scolds you and the bros, and honestly? the best you can do is let her talk as you all give each other a shared nervous look. from there on out, you are strictly forbidden from going out on creature adventures. not until you're fully recovered. got that? and don't give her that look! no pouts, no protests, no nothing. despite the tough love, she enjoys giving you flowers throughout your road to recovery and knows exactly what you may need without you having to tell her anything. she's more than willing to help you with anything, even if it's a little embarrassing! <3

Jimmy Z

━ the second he hears from the bros that you're badly wounded its an instant. panic! everything the bros say through the main computer falls onto deaf ears. he can't hear anything, its all suddenly in the fritz for him and his senses are null. he doesn't even wait to understand the state of your condition as he immediately jumps to the worst possible conclusion and rushes into the tortuga's cockpit. his first instinct? get to you, and fast.

━ the impulse is so strong that he has zero idea of where he's even supposed to be flying to! that is, until koki reveals your exact coordinates through his communicator. from there it's full blast to wherever you may be!

━ the whole way he's gonna be talking to himself, hoping that you are or will be okay. once he's stationed, fear starts to settle in further. it's immense! so much so that aviva and koki have to rush to his side and make him sit down before he can pass out. they assure him that no matter what happens, they'll do everything they can to help you and will succeed in doing so. he's shaking like a leaf, but he knows they mean it—his faith in aviva and koki's capabilities is strong and he weakly but surely thanks them.

━ once the boys walk in with you, jimmy is instantly hustling towards you, all up in your space and bombarding you three with questions! what happened? are you gonna be okay? tears well up in his eyes as he's experiencing a turmoil of emotions. the bros try to calm him down, and it works... sort of... okay not really.

━ he's such a worried mess, but he intends to be by your side whether you're conscious or not (except for when the girls need their space to properly tend to your injury, but you're in his mind! trust!!) through it all, martin and chris get him to sit down with them outside the tortuga. the bros let him be vulnerable as he vents and voices his worries and in response, they offer him any support he may need; hugs, positivity, and a good pair of ears. they make sure he's heard because honestly, that's something he really needs. if he needs a good cry, then so be it <3

━ once you've been treated, he's instantly hugging you like theres no tomorrow and cue the waterworks. he's so glad you're okay, but you gave him quite the scare! never do that again, please? he doesn't know what he'd do if something like this were to happen again in the future! hug him just as tightly and assure him that youll be more careful next time. he sweetly comments that he'll bake you little get well cookies, just the way you like 'em :')

━ and that settles it! no more creature adventuring for you—not until you get better! he'll make sure that you get your rest. you may not be able to go out for the time being, but quality time spent with jimmy inside the tortuga is time well spent! he's got his eye on you, and you being in the tortuga with him eases his mind a bit. he'll do anything to keep your mind off that impending boredom of yours. video games galore, cook-offs, you name it!

[incorrect-pipravi]

Thinking about when Naomi mentioned Andie's friendgroup she wasn't a part of! It was definitely a popular group, too. So there was Andie, Emma and Chloe. There was also Chris, Max and Jamie. So basically girl trio and guy trio. That is what makes sense to me and I have such a vivid image of each personality! To summarize it

Andie: The Queen Bee. Natural leadership skills, bossy, ruthless, ambitious, gorgeous, materialistic, fun loving but also secretly compassionate, motherly and insecure. Andie would definitely be the protective mom friend. She'd be a control freak, too.

Chloe: I imagine Chloe to be a Nat-like personality! She comes across as tough, ruthless confident and blunt. She is never afraid to be brutally straightforward and tell it like it is but she also has a playful side where she likes to mess with others emotions by makung fun of them. Bit of a bad girl vibe as opposed to Andie's clean girl. But she's also loyal, passionate and supportive. Always having your back if you're on her good side. She comes across as rather aggressive but beneath that is quite an insecure and vulnerable girl who's afraid of showing weaknesses and get hurt again. She stays in the group because she enjoys popularity and good time and she's willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of stuff.

Emma: Emma is a bit of a Naomi personality. She comes across as warm, caring and bubbly, being a bit of a people pleaser. She's also usually smooth and social which mixes well with her warm, motherly nature. Emma is the most naive out of three girls and is mainly in group because she wants to fit in and maintain friendships she believes are genuine. She has a bit of a nerdy side where she's interested in history, especially history of fashion. Emma is also very insecure and those insecurities can make her act out and mess up. That's why she's rather unpredictable and has that air of mystery around true nature of her intentions.

Jamie: Jamie can be a difficult person to predict or put in a box. He's known as a bit of a silent troublemaker who's good at manipulation and is always up to something. He's fun loving, moody,laidback and despite prefering to just goof around, has a serious, calculating side to himself that gives him an air of mystery. Jamie is also caring and protective of those he holds close. Jamie struggles with self esteem issues which make it difficult for him to have hope in himself or some ambitions. That leads him to find an escape within hedonism, partying, alcohol, messing around and sex. Jamie has many intellectual interests and is a bit of a nerd, too.

Max: Max is known as your typical class clown jock. He comes across as chaotic, chirpy, loud and goofy. Always up to something and never having any chill. He's known for his unpredictable mood swings. He can be bouncing off the walls, living it up one mo ent and then sit in the corner sulking the next. Max has this childish edge to him where he can't fully grasp consenquences of things he says/does which leads to trouble. Max is a shameless attention seeker. He can get pretty manipulative, sneaky about it too. Despite how he acts, he's known to be a bit naive and a people pleaser towards the right people. Underneath the manic persona, Max is emotionally wrecked, desperate for attention/affection and struggling with self esteem and deep insecurities. He doesnt have much goals in his life except of living it to the fullest while he can and maybe find someone who will understand him for once.

Chris: Chris is known as the hotest guy in school, sure but he doesnt really care that much. He's the type that comes across laidback, warm and smooth. He's usually rather calm and reserved, being a bit shy. He's the kindest out of the boys, being a bit of a people pleaser. He has a playful, fun loving side and is always up for a good time. Chris is known to be a bit naive, too. Chris is really insecure underneath the surface tho. Those insecurities can make him act out recklessly aswell. Chris is also smart and a good student that has a natural curiosity towards knowledge. He is good in science, history and it became an inside joke that he's a walking google search. Chris is mostly there because he likes validation and benefits that come from being popular aswell as to maintain friendships with his boys. However Chris is also bit of a mysterious person because he has a cunning, sneaky side to him and no one is sure about his true morals and intentions. He turns a blind eye to a lot of things, too.

I’m so invested in this universe!!!

You gave them such an intriguing personalities that makes you naturally want to explore them. I love how you described them perfectly. I can literally see all of them being the way you described, especially Jamie.

I LOVED THIS! Share more?

[itsscromp]

Imagine Peter Quill from the Edios game having to deal with a rebellious teenager from Earth who says his references are outdated and dumb-

It came to me in a vision.

Peter Quill/ Star-lord (Eidos) x reader

Oh... My... God anon, I love this to the absolute death, This is the best idea of this month already. This game means a lot to me as it impacted my 2022 in the most positive way possible, Shout out to the star lord actor Jon Mclaren who did amazing with this, If you wanna see him he does Twitch streams too here but for now enjoy the story :D. Word count:854

Being the newest member of the Guardians of the Galaxy was already tough enough, but being from Earth in a new setting was even more daunting for a kid. You were only 8 when you were kidnapped from Earth. Peter found you and took you in when you were 15, You were a bit of a rebellious teenager when you joined as well. Forming a friendship with Rocket as well, causing as much mischief as possible on the ship.

But one thing that kind of irritated you was Peter's constant pop culture references. He never fails to make at least one reference of any movie, game or song he knows.

"We're gonna need a bigger boat." He said as he saw fing fang foom in person.

"Really Pete, jaws ??" You grumbled at him in annoyance.

It went on and on and on, You almost retaliated in every way to try and get him to stop. But today was one of your outbursts.

You were helping rocket build one of his latest machines, Peter managed to walk by and see what you were doing.

"Wow, nice gizmo's you two. I do hope though that it doesn't go back in time to kill me" He smirked.

"Quill ya know I don't get those references of yours." Rocket said annoyingly.

"Yeah, Pete honestly they're outdated and dumb. Keep up with the times." You said without even looking at him.

He looked at you with such shock in his eyes, his references, outdated ?? no no no.

"What, My references are not outdated and dumb, They stand the test of time almost every single day"

"Yeah but doesn't mean you get to do it almost every single day !!!"

He was pretty shocked about your yelling, over something so small.

"Ok ok, I'll cut back on the references alright" He tried to calm you down.

"Yeah sure the last time you promised that it only lasted an hour, Pete just stop it ok !!!" You bolted off to your room and locked the door.

"Great, two moody humies on the ship" Rocket snorted as he went back to work.

Peter was at a loss for words about what he witnessed, You called his references outdated. This caused him to feel a little flat all week, You noticed this as he wasn't as chirpy as he used to be. He was just the strict leader.

Maybe you went a bit too far, so when he was on rotation one night, you got out of your room and went to the cockpit of the ship.

"Hey, Pete..." You softly greeted.

"Hey kiddo, You should be in bed"

"I know, but I wanted to talk to you."

You then went to your seat and turned to him, With an almost worried look on your face.

"What's wrong Pete ??"

He went a little bit quiet, as if almost not choosing to answer you, you turned around and stared out into the cosmos before he finally spoke up again.

"Do you ever consider... That these things may be the only things that remind you of home ??" He said as you turned around.

"These things that remind you of your past life when your lost in an unfamiliar place, where your scared. These reminders make you feel safe and happy... That's why I keep talking about my movies and games and music, That's why I keep referencing them." He said sadly.

You rubbed your face, feeling the guilt of yelling at him climb up on you. You too had things that made you feel happy and safe.

"Pete... I'm sorry"

"It's fine y/n..."

"No, It's not fine. I get where you're coming from. I too feel safe and happy when I think about things that make me happy." You said as tears started to swell in your eyes. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have yelled at you or called your references dumb and outdated. My mind has been going through a lot and I don't know why I took it out on you. Please, Pete... I'm so sorry"

Peter looked at you sadly and stood up from his seat, gently walking over to you and wrapping your arms around you tightly. "It's ok kiddo... I forgive you" He said softly smiling.

The guilt lifted off your chest as you let out a shaky deep sigh. Your best friend forgave you, But you wanted to make it right with him.

"Pete... remember that device I found on Knowhere that had movies on it ??"

"Yeah, why ??"

"Well... I found the robocop movies on there. we have nothing to do tomorrow, wanna watch a marathon ??" You looked up at him, But from the way his smile widened, you felt happy yourself.

"Dead or alive your coming with me" He did his best robocop voice and ruffled your hair. "Of course I'm in"

You giggled as you fixed your hair. After the whole situation, you've grown to love Peter's references. He always knew how to make it... Well him But you wouldn't change peter at all for the entire galaxy. Not one bit.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[sunshine-on-my-mind]

Slice of Life

pairing: Frank Adler x reader

words: 722

warnings: fluff, angsty vibes, Frank being a sweetheart, mentions of taking a shower (implied nudity), mentions of exhaustion and wanting to cry. mention of having dinner.

a/n: hi!! so I know I have not been writing much these days and I’m trying to get back to it but i mostly just feel so tired these days. this fic right here is very self-indulgent and I so wish I could be in Frank’s arms right now. I really hope you all like this. Comments, Reblogs, and Feedback are really appreciated.

As you enter your home, after an exhausting day, both physically and mentally, a deep but silent sigh leaves your mouth. Your eyes quickly scan for the little blonde. Always making sure to not look sad in front of the kid. You knew if she sees you upset, she will be upset too, and you don’t want that.

The kitchen smells good, Frank has become much better at cooking after the lessons you have given him, you smile at the thought. And as you let your thoughts indulge in the happy and cozy moments you spend with your boyfriend, you miss to notice him appearing from your shared bedroom.

“Hey there.” Frank’s beautiful voice breaks you out of your thoughts. He comes closer and takes you in his arms. In that moment, you feel all the weight of the world being released from your body and feel the urgent need to cry. Although before you could shed any tears, the chirpy voice of the young genius gets your attention.

“You’re back! Frank made dinner and it surprisingly smells good” Mary says while pulling your hand and taking you to the kitchen. You chuckle softly while Frank makes a comment about how it always smells good when he cooks.

You decide to freshen up before dinner, only after making sure Mary isn’t hungry because you don’t want her to wait.

“No I wanna have dinner with you both and I’m not hungry, plus it’s Saturday tomorrow so I don’t have school.”

The moment the warm water hits your skin, you let out another sigh. It has been a tough week, but you tried your best to keep a happy face at home. Frank and Mary have been through a lot, and you made it your purpose to only make them smile from the moment you stepped in their lives.

You hear a knock on the door and then your boyfriend appears.

“You alright baby? Wanna talk?” Frank knows you won’t say anything even if you are sad or just not feeling good. You hardly share or speak up when it comes to your own well being, always the caring person. Frank can’t believe how lucky he is to have found such a caring and loving girlfriend but he wants to be there for you too, wants to take care of you.

When the only response he gets from you is a shake of the head, he decides to strip and join you in the shower. You smile, feeling him close to you. You probably will never admit to him how much you love having him close.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna share, love. But I hope you know I’m always here for you. You do so much for me, so much for Mary. I- I don’t want you to feel burdened”

“Frank, don’t ever think that. Mary and you, you both make me the happiest. I know after a tiring day when I come home and just be in the presence of you two, it instantly lifts up my mood.”

“Uh huh so you do need to be cheered up”

“Hey- that’s not what I said!”

Frank chuckles and so do you. He smiles and kisses your forehead. A drop of tear leaves your eye, a happy tear. You feel content.

He wraps his arms around you, and in his warm embrace, and under the warm water, you feel refreshed.

You both get out of the shower and quickly get changed into some comfy clothes a.k.a. the t-shirt and sweat pants you “borrowed” from your boyfriend.

Mary and you chat over dinner and appreciate Frank for his efforts.

“You’ve learned well Adler, this is so delicious.”

Mary nods her head in agreement.

“Well thank you ladies.”

Settling in bed with Frank, you snuggle close to him.

“No matter what, I’m here for you, always gonna hold you close and listen to you. I appreciate you so much baby, I love you.” Frank pulls you into a loving kiss.

“Thank you Frank, thank you for loving me and accepting me. You mean the world to me. Mary and you make me the happiest. I love you too.” You smile and kiss him again.

With Frank’s hand wrapped around you, keeping you close to him, you soon drift off to the land of dreams.

[moonchild-in-blue]

17, Chatham Street,

Wednesday.

My dearest Mina,—

"I must say you tax me very unfairly with being a bad correspondent. I wrote to you twice since we parted, and your last letter was only your second. Besides, I have nothing to tell you. There is really nothing to interest you. Town is very pleasant just now, and we go a good deal to picture-galleries and for walks and rides in the park. As to the tall, curly-haired man, I suppose it was the one who was with me at the last Pop. Some one has evidently been telling tales. That was Mr. Holmwood. He often comes to see us, and he and mamma get on very well together; they have so many things to talk about in common. We met some time ago a man that would just do for you, if you were not already engaged to Jonathan. He is an excellent parti, being handsome, well off, and of good birth. He is a doctor and really clever. Just fancy! He is only nine-and-twenty, and he has an immense lunatic asylum all under his own care. Mr. Holmwood introduced him to me, and he called here to see us, and often comes now. I think he is one of the most resolute men I ever saw, and yet the most calm. He seems absolutely imperturbable. I can fancy what a wonderful power he must have over his patients. He has a curious habit of looking one straight in the face, as if trying to read one's thoughts. He tries this on very much with me, but I flatter myself he has got a tough nut to crack. I know that from my glass. Do you ever try to read your own face? I do, and I can tell you it is not a bad study, and gives you more trouble than you can well fancy if you have never tried it. He says that I afford him a curious psychological study, and I humbly think I do. I do not, as you know, take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions. Dress is a bore. That is slang again, but never mind; Arthur says that every day. There, it is all out. Mina, we have told all our secrets to each other since we were children; we have slept together and eaten together, and laughed and cried together; and now, though I have spoken, I would like to speak more. Oh, Mina, couldn't you guess? I love him. I am blushing as I write, for although I think he loves me, he has not told me so in words. But oh, Mina, I love him; I love him; I love him! There, that does me good. I wish I were with you, dear, sitting by the fire undressing, as we used to sit; and I would try to tell you what I feel. I do not know how I am writing this even to you. I am afraid to stop, or I should tear up the letter, and I don't want to stop, for I do so want to tell you all. Let me hear from you at once, and tell me all that you think about it. Mina, I must stop. Good-night. Bless me in your prayers; and, Mina, pray for my happiness.

LUCY.

P.S.—I need not tell you this is a secret. Good-night again.

💋

Would you believe that I screenshoted this earlier today when I read it to send you:

... and then forgot?

You're here! Officially!! This was literally you telling me about yours and Mr Kate's love story 💌💋

(how cute is that Mina and Lucy are gossiping about hot boys and crushes 🥺💖 Lucy sounds so chirpy and happy 🥹 this is you to me 💙🧡)

[ghooostbaby]

reaction to hilda kilgore of dungeons and dragons honor among thieves (so far)

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

a chirpy sassy bard guy and a strong, intimidating, silently eating, violent woman!!!!

this is vindicating all the complicated feelings i had about geralt and yennefer and heteronormative desirability while being obsessed with the witcher OH MY GOD

BUTCH WOMAN BEING THE TOUGH SILENT WARRIOR I AM HEALED

SHE IS BEST FRIENDS WITH THE BARD

THEY ARE RAISING A CHILD TOGETHER!!!!!

wowowowow it is everything the witcher should have been so far!!!

THEY MADE HER STRAIGHT!?!?!?

*sobs*

well they made the person she is in love with have he/him pronouns, i will wait

i am not hopeful

she’s fighting now !!!! hot! her legs aahhhhhhhhhhh

if this woman was sexualized like henry cavill was sexualized as geralt i would be so down

this is like me being rendered completely helpless by chainsaw man women in suits x 10000000000

i see so few women who are not totally feminine on tv/movies it breaks my brain every time

ok. so far all the various magical/non-magical/human/creatures etc are ALL either male interested in female or female interested in male WHAT

WHAT IS THIS

you’re telling me in a society with a proliferation of all kinds of intelligent species YOU ARE ALL STILL HETEROSEXUAL

HOW

WHY

ok the “her” this one guy was talking about being romantically interested in is... an owl monster?

oh now owl monster is a woman.

ok holga’s man is ... a hobbit? hmmm.

(or gnome? idk dnd character typed well enough!)

atleast it wasn't a big strong dude. she made a comment when someone assumed she was married to the bard like "gross, him??" i thought that they were going for masculine woman could never be with some pipsqueak of a man angle, but she's in love with an even pipsqueakier man so that's ... something?

lesbians would have been hot though.

[mushiewrites]

Hi hi hello yes I’d like to share a thought with you

George having an “off day” with his emotions, but being too shy to bring it up to Sapnap and Dream. So he’s basically just moping around the house all day and being super stand-offish when asked about what’s wrong. Eventually the day comes to an end and George is too tired to fight off his roommates concerns—which leads to a whole fest of emotions and reassurances—and after all is said and done, the Dream Team is piled up in Dreams bed (bc I HC that it has to be the comfiest and biggest out of the three).

So now starts operation ‘Cheer Up George, But He’s Tired And Clingy’. Which consists of lots of physical touch, gently spoken words, and a few movies. Lots of gentle traces up and down George’s arms, back rubs that linger on his ribs, kind words whispered a little too close to his ear: Basically enough to put a smile on his face, and maybe get a few giggles, but not too much as to break the calm, healing atmosphere.

When they all wake up the next morning, George is pretty embarrassed about the whole situation, but he finds that it’s much easier to talk about his feelings.

AMITY....

literally i love when the boys are so extremely soft with george to the point he doesnt know what to do except giggle all softly. one time @awkwardtickleetoo + i hc'd george being treated so nice he got all teary eyed 🥺 my lil baby cat <3

but ANYWAY.....yes yes yes yes yES

first things first - george should never have an off day ever!!!! I will fight anything and everything making him have an off day!!!!!!!! he can only have good fun days!!!!!!!!!!!

okay so

sapnap and dream would ask him what he's feeling and if anything is wrong a few times throughout the morning, not really getting an answer just brushing it off as him being tired. eventually they ask more as the day goes on and george, already antsy and agitated, snaps slightly. which...dream and sap have been the targets of george's frustrations before, they all have with each other, but this felt...different? they realize this isn't just something he's grumpy about, he seems to just be completely worn out, physically and mentally. they cant really do much as he storms away to his room

later on in the night, sap and dream are spread out on dreams huge bed, just watching movies and talking to pass the time. they hear a noise from the doorway and there is a very sleepy looking george, having just woken up from a few hours long nap. the two just signal for him to come over, dream gripping him as soon as he can reach and pulling him onto the bed between him and sapnap

they don't ask what was bothering him, they just immediately start showering him with compliments, telling him how pretty he is, how smart he is, how good he was to let his emotions ride out. george is blushing like crazy, and the huge smile on his face only gets bigger when dream and sapnap start tracing their fingers up george's forearm, up to his triceps and back down again. he's squirmy and he lets out these little giggles and huffs of air, trying not to laugh and disturb the peaceful space that they had created

george eventually breaks slightly when they're tracing his back, these high pitched chirpy giggles flowing out of him even as he shoved his face into the pillow under him. sapnap had been tracing the left side of george's back idly, not realizing how his fingers traced over the back of his ribs until george squeaked. sapnap apologized but george could tell he was smiling, knowing that this wasn't going to end any time soon

dream joins in after a few minutes and the two just trace over this incredibly sensitive spot, but incredibly slow and gentle so that it's not as overwhelming. they're both praising him for how good he's being, how he's tough for trying his best to stay still, how adorable his little giggles are when he's trying to hold them in. george thinks he'll never unhide his face again when he feels stubble pressed against his ears, both dream and sapnap now trying to whisper these compliments directly into his ear. his giggles are still soft and light, but he flings his head back and surprised, causing them to all laugh when sapnap and dream bumped heads

after that, they just fall into this huge cuddle pile, dream getting snacks while sapnap has george pick movie after movie, until they all fall asleep. when they wake up the next morning, george is the last one awake, being woken up with the nicest back rub he's ever experienced. when he was awake enough, he turned his face to hide into the pillow again, bc he's blushing an insane amount as the memories of the night before come flooding back

but sapnap and dream are determined, and eventually they coax him out of hiding, giving george the space to talk about everything that was going on. and if he didn't wanna talk about it, sapnap and dream knew what they could do instead 🥺

[pi-ying-xi]

The Hope (2023) with Zhang Ruoyun has been consistently good for the ten episodes that I've watched, but ep 10 is on another level.

Five kids, beaten down by life and their particular circumstances are selected - or have selected themselves - to be a part of Class 11, with Zhang Ruoyun's Lei Ming, when their schools are merged at the beginning of an academic year.

The kids are in their last year of high school and the gaokao is looming ahead. These particular kids are there for reasons of their own,, and not because Lei Ming has promised the school to take these struggling children and get them into Qingbei (Tsinghua, and BeidaBeida respectively; the top of the top and extremely difficult to get into).

In episode 10, these five return home after a ten day camp where they stayed in school and gradually moved from being indifferent to their success or failure but marking time, to being disappointed in themselves after their first test and determined to do better because they know they can.

So far so chicken soup, right?

Wrong! Because none of the circumstances that beat them down in the first place have changed: each kid goes back to homes where they have to help run a business; worry about money as well as negotiate the awkwardness of being the domestic help in the house of a school mate; be very careful around relatives who makes it clear they're doing you a favour by housing and feeding you; watching your divorced, or might-as-well-be-divorced parents squabble.

You'd think Lei Ming - so confident, persuasive but also tough at school - would have it easier. But his dad, who has Alzheimer's, has locked himself into his bathroom in the care facility where Lei Ming has put him and when he breaks in, finds he's soiled himself.

I won't describe what happens next, or what's happening here, but it's enough to know that every person in class 11 (except perhaps the psychologist assistant teacher, Sang Xia) is dealing with incredible stress and violence of one kind or another.

When they head back for their three day break, the kids keep in touch, checking in and reporting on their studies etc. On the first day, with chirpy enthusiasm, but on the last day with exhaustion and all the spark gone.

I really like this drama so much for how it doesn't shy away from showing how circumstances, money or it's lack, social class and privilege all act in different ways upon children. When you add gender or mental health to the mix, there's a lot these kids are dealing with, and the only difference between them and the adults, sometimes, is how long they've been at it.

[darlingtontoday]

✨New✨ Arhi FF: Iss Darr Ko Kya Naam Doon

Summary:

Khushi is an internet famous 27 year old fashion designer from Lucknow. She has a chirpy and childish demeanor yet could not be more mature, brave and compassionate. She is the apple of her father's eye, loves Salman ji, cricket, keeping track of star signs and making jalebis is toh her therapy! She is desperate to expand her business outside the social media and start her own label in fashion. Willing to work hard, armed with her ever sharp wit and an optimistic twinkle in her eye, she is on a serious look out for a big-break opportunity to establish herself in the tough world of fashion business. And this could not happen in the most bizarre manner as she literally falls into it. Who knew ending up at the wrong place, at the wrong time would IN FACT turn out to be the opposite - right place, right time and right....person?

The fashion industry however is dominated by the King of Indian Fashion: Arnav Singh Raizada, popularly known for his bridal and ethnic wear. All of the who's and who of the fashion world in India looks up to the Raizada for its exquisite traditional indian wear. Everyone wants a "Raizada" wedding lehenga for their wedding or anything with the "Raizada" label on it. And now, as the brand gears up to expand globally, Arnav Singh Raizada aka ASR is now on a spree for assembling a team to get this transition right and is looking for someone that would make this re-positioning as a global venture a resounding success. But "life" does not stop happening because you have an obviously important international expansion to make, does it? 

On his trip for a pivotal fashion show (among other things) to Lucknow, a woman practically hijacks his runway and unironically stumbles right into his arms! The design she is wearing comes to be the most celebrated look of the show. It is not a Raizada design but no one has figured it out. This irks him to no end for reasons he isn't able fully understand even though the event is a huge success. Arnav has a legacy of being the best in his business. And being the control freak that he his, he has to ensure that this Lucknowi designer does not get snatched up by his competitors who are always clawing at his throat to get ahead of him. He is known as the King of Indian Fashion for a reason after all!

Read on to find out what happens when Arnav drags Khushi to Delhi to work for him and these two crazies struggle to overcome some critical personal and creative differences while working together. Will this choice be the worst decision of their lives? Will it be the beginning of their doom or the start of something new?

Author’s Note:

Iss Darr Ko Kya Naam Doon is a combination of "fix-it" and "canon-based" fanfiction of an Indian TV show from 2011 called Iss Pyar Ko Kya Naam Doon which is about lead protagonists Khushi played by Sanaya Irani and Arnav played by Barun Sobti.

It is an old-fashioned romance style in a progressive setting. The story takes place in 2023 of Lucknow and Delhi. The language used here is a mixture of English and Roman English. The essence of all the charachters remains same except for a few changes made to make them more progressive and relatable. Khushi and Payal are educated and modern individuals who were brought up in a traditional middle-class environment. Nani belongs to an old Rajasthani royalty that no longer exists and Arnav has immediate paternal roots in an old Nawaabi family from Lucknow. Arnav and Khushi's encounters will be less toxic and more filled with fun near hostilic yet healthy romantic tension as compared to the show and Shyam's charachter will not be a villian. Basically my vision is to retain all the essential canon events from the show and adding more compelling and favourable twists & turns to the story. Sort of like a remake but make it way less toxic, way more wholesome, way more sexy/romantic, more progressive and a more nuanced charachter growth. Bit of a 2.0 version of the original show, in some ways.

Anyone who hasn't watched the show won't have any problem following the plot/significance of the canon events and will be bound to fall in love with the crazy enemies to lovers chemistry that us fans of the show know and LOVE about Arnav and Khushi's romance. Hope yall have as good a time reading it as I know I will have writing it. Enjoy:)

Genre:

Drama | Romance | Comedy | Wholesome | Family Drama | Friendship | Social Issues

Tropes:

Enemies to lovers | Slow burn | Canon-based | He falls first | Office romance | Forced proximity | Grumpy MMC and sunshine FMC | Meaningful romantic encounters |  Fix-it canon events | Fake Marriage/Marriage of Convenience (TBD)

Trigger Warning: (Light-Medium Level)

Childhood Trauma | Suicide | Depression

The Vibe is:

Immersive | Dramatic | Wholesome | Romantic Tension | Office Drama/Romance

Disclaimer: This is a fan fiction, meaning that all events and occurrences in this book are all fictional and all are part of my imagination. Any resemblance to actual life events and people, living or dead, are all purely coincidence.

I do not own the charachters Khushi Kumari Gupta, Arnav Singh Raizada or any of the related characters. The Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon series was produced by Gul Khan and is owned by 4 Lions Production. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original story belongs to 4 Lions.

The story however is mine. All Rights Reserved. Please do not steal my work or copy it. If you use any of my content for your own work, please credit me. I did not work hard on coming up with a storyline and taking my time to write my thoughts out in order for someone else to take credit for it. Please be respectful of me and my work. Thank you very much.

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