#I really hope they don’t follow me on here now

[adrienneleclerc]

TikTok Gone Viral

Paring: charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina reader

Summary: Y/N used a specific TikTok audio and it goes VIRAL

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: I had this audio in my head so like why not. It’s my version of making Y/N a “PR nightmare” as other fanfic authors put it

Y/N was scrolling through TikTok while Charles was washing dishes, as he should because she cooked, and came across a video of a girl using a Megan Thee Stallion song with the caption “ovulation week be like”. She thought it would be fun to use the same audio so she put her phone against the napkin stand they have in the counter and started recording.

I need *points to self* this pussy *points down* on his *points to Charles off screen* nose *points to her nose* I spread it, I spread it, I pose *random dancing*

However, she did not see Charles move into the frame as she danced because she had her head down and just posted it without looking back at it. She did caption it “needing my boyfriend a little too much lately” and just exited TikTok. Their relationship has always been private, no one really knew Charles was dating anyone after Alexandra and they’ve only been dating for a few months. At least it WAS private.

“What were you filming, Mon ange?” Charles asked.

“Just a silly little TikTok, muñeco, don’t pay mind to it.” Y/N said.

“Alright well I’m done with the dishes, you want to watch a movie?” Charles asked

“Can we watch ‘Nosotros Los Nobles’?” Y/N asked.

“Whatever you want, Mon ange.” Charles said.

“Get the chips.” Y/N said as she got up from where she was sitting to head to their bedroom for a blanket while Charles gets chips from the pantry. They both headed over to their couch, sat down, Y/N put the blanket over them, and Charles gave her the bag of chips and passed her the remote. “Okay, it’s has English subtitles, so I hope you find this movie funny.”

“I’m sure I will.” Charles said. Sadly, both fell asleep on the couch, charles was cuddling Y/N. However, with Charles’s phone charging in his bedroom, he missed multiple missed calls from the Ferrari media manager, Fred, Pierre, Arthur, and his other friends. Y/N also has missed calls from her friends

The next morning, Y/N woke up on top of Charles. She shook him awake.

“Muñeco, we fell asleep on the couch, get up.” Y/N said and Charles woke up.

“Mm, what time is it?” Charles asked.

“I Don’t know, my phone is charging in the room.” Y/N said, getting off the couch to get her phone.

“Can you get my phone too?” Charles asked.

“Sure thing, muñeco.” Y/N went to their bedroom and unplugged their phones and she was shocked to see how many missed calls both of them received. “Charles, you have so many missed calls, here.” Y/N handed him his phone.

“Thanks Mon ange.” Charles said. He unlocked his phone and called the media manager. “Hello?”

“Charles I’ve been trying to reach you yesterday, your girlfriend posted something on TikTok.” The media manager said and Charles was very confused.

“How do you know I have a girlfriend?” Charles asked and Y/N’s head popped up.

“What about me?” Y/N whispered asked and Charles made an “I don’t know” face.

“The whole world knows she your girlfriend because you’re in the background of her now VIRAL TikTok. I’ll talk to you later.” The media manager hung up and Charles looked at Y/N.

“Ma Belle, my beautiful beautiful girlfriend, what did you post on TikTok last night?” Charles asked. Y/N took out her phone to open up TikTok.

“Just a silly TikTok using a trendy audio…oh shit, I gained SOOO many followers.” Y/N laughed and Charles took her phone to click on her profile and see the video he posted. His eyes widened when he saw himself appear on screen. The video had 9.1 million likes, 60.7 thousand comments, 231.8 thousand saves, and 76.3 thousand shares. Y/N looked over his shoulder. “Oh that’s why the video went viral. Oh I’m so sorry, muñeco, I didn’t know you appeared, I didn’t rewatch the video before posting, are you in trouble?”

“I don’t think I’m in trouble but now I have to introduce you as my girlfriend.” Charles said. “We are no longer private, Mon ange.”

“Shit, I was doing so well without the hate comments.” Y/N pouted and Charles chuckled before kissing her.

“I hope you’re ready, Mon ange.” Charles said before he grabbed his phone to record a video. “Hello everyone, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. We have been dating for a few months. Say hello, Mon Chou.” Charles said, pointing the phone to Y/N.

“Hello” Y/N waved shyly. Charles pointed the phon back to him.

“We met at her job, she’s actually a bartender, it was after my break up with Alex, we talked, we hit it off, we started hanging out, and now we’re dating, not that it’s any of your business. But I like her a lot and we’re happy together.” Charles stopped the video and posted it on his Instagram.

“You really had to say I was a bartender?” Y/N asked.

“Well you are a bartender, mon coeur.” Charles said.

“Watch them say I’m only after your money.” Y/N said.

“But we both know that’s not true, your salary is pretty good AND you get tips. I am glad I don’t have to hide you anymore though, I can finally post pictures of us together.” Charles said, kissing her.

“Well I’m glad you’re happy. Do you have to go to maranello?” Y/N asked.

“Nope, you want to go out today? We could go on the yacht.” Charles suggested.

“Ooh, a picnic on the yacht?” Y/N asked,

“Yep.” Charles said.

“I’m gonna start cooking.” Y/N said already looking in the pantry to see if they have anything to make. Charles just looked at her with love in his eyes, now the whole world knows he has the cutest person as his girlfriend.

The End

Hope y’all liked it, I found this very fun to write. Also, is there a market for Logan Sargeant x Hispanic reader fanfics?

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Chiori and Yae with a reader that tries to slack off all the time

characters: Chiori / Yae Miko x gn!reader (separate)

a/n: Chiori is such an asshole and I absolutely adore her. She’s like if they gave Stannis Baratheon hair and a second sword.

(I wrote this like... 2 months ago and finally finished it. A total henry move to write 90% of smth and then let it rot in my WIP folder for months, if you ask me.)

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Chiori

While the two of you matched when it came to radiating calm energy, the way they came out in quite contrasting ways. Where the Seamstress worked hard at following her passions, you were easygoing, where she was direct and brutally honest, you were charming and always said what the other party wanted to hear. Where she was Chiori, you were you.

So when you once again found yourself in her Boutique, chatting away with customers and somehow managing to make them spend more than they had planned, only to up and vanish from one moment to the next, Chiori couldn’t help but feel like she had an inkling of an idea to as were she would find you.

“What are you doing here?”, Chiori’s voice suddenly rang out, waking you from your slumber as you slowly looked up at her, your eyes still half closed and yet still managing to make out the vexed look on her face.

“I was taking a small break. Do you need me for something, Chiori?” you asked in a completely innocent tone, an unwavering smile plastered on your face as she stared you down before signaling to the once locked door.

“And where did you get the keys for the room?”

“They were in the door, so I let myself in. Oh- Was I not supposed to go here?” You realized with widened eyes, glancing between her and the door before shooting her an apologetic smile.

“Yeah no, don’t do that again. The next time you want to take a nap, do it at home”, came her response almost immediately.

Putting the whole “sneaking off and going into a locked room to take a nap away from people” situation aside, what annoyed Chiori even more was how impossible to read you were. If she was sure you were lying to her, she’d have thrown you out long ago. Were you really clueless enough to let yourself into a room or were you simply playing dumb? 

“Ugh. If you want to stand around and do nothing, come with me. I’m in need of a model right now.”

Yae Miko

While you were certainly far from being as lethargic as a certain ninja-girl loitering around the shrine every so often, you had your moments of supreme languidness. And while there were times she felt the urge to help you out by giving you a bit of motivation to get your day started, more often than not, Yae found herself amused by the lengths you took to go unnoticed by your superiors.

“Oh my, you look exhausted. You must have been working hard to get all of this paperwork finished. I do hope I’m not being a nuisance right now”, Yae observed as she entered the room, her voice both soft in nature while masking her mischievous intentions, letting herself into your office only to see you half-slumped over your desk with finished paperwork surrounding you.

That being said, Yae had no doubt it didn’t take you as long as your dramatic rendition of an exhausted warrior would suggest, considering the clever ways you found to make your work easier. So often had you inadvertently impressed her with your way of working that she wouldn’t put it past you to reinvent the wheel if it could shave off a few seconds from your work.

“No, I just now finished my work”, you were quick to soothe her worries, and yet by the way you rubbed your eyes awake, the Kitsune couldn’t help but doubt your words.

As expected, you had learned from your mistakes. The last time you were caught finishing early, you got a few sentences of praise and an extra load of work, the way your self-satisfied smile turned into one barely holding on as you tried to mask whatever emotions washed over you on the inside, being exactly the kind of subtle reactions she loved to watch people go through.

“You should know that you are truly a commendable employee. So, to reward you for your hard work, I should give you a promotion”, Yae spoke before shooting you a small smile as if to praise you, and yet by the time her words registered in your brain, your mouth was left hanging wide open.

“Thank you, but that’s really not necessary. I can think of a dozen people more suited than me-”

“You’re selling yourself short. I’m confident you’re more than qualified for the position”, Yae quickly cut you off, her expression unchanging as she slowly turned around. “Or… Is it that you do not want more work?” She added as her smile grew wider, barely hiding her enjoyment anymore.

“No… thank you”, you responded with a meek sigh, realizing the futility of fighting it.

Once you’d take a closer look at your new privileges and responsibilities, you’d surely realize that she made sure most of your new workload wouldn’t take nearly as long as your current one if handled in an intelligent manner, and yet, when she saw your current reaction, a part of her found herself hoping you wouldn’t realize anytime soon.

By the time Yae reached the door however, she found herself halting in her tracks, quietly humming to herself as she seemed to think about something before finally turning to face you once again.

“I do suppose you did work well today. Take the rest of the day off.”

[plutofromafar]

the agent and the killer

A/N: oh man I am not good at coming up with titles. anyway i can't get unsub!emily off my mind so here's a small fic. just two parts for now while i decide if i want to write more :) enjoy!

pairing: unsub!emily prentiss x agent!reader

warnings: talks of murder, emily being scary, intimidation, i think that's all?

word count: 1121

Read on AO3

Part 1 Part 2

You hummed in your kitchen as you cleaned up after dinner, enjoying the silent night after a very long and tiring case. As you loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, some movement outside the window caught your eye. You brushed it off as a deer that frequently wandered through backyards in your neighborhood and continued with your chores. 

Behind the bushes, the brunette woman smiled when she saw you alone. It’ll be easier to get you. She started walking to the back door that separated the two of you. Reaching the handle, she picked the lock, smiling when the handle became loose. Now she can get her latest victim.

The door jiggling behind you raised the alarm bells in your head. You whipped around to see a dark haired woman in the doorway. You reached for your gun that was placed on the kitchen counter, aiming it at the woman. 

Emily made a tsk tsk noise at you, shaking her head.

“Now, now… Is that any way to greet someone in your home?”

You lowered your gun slightly as you recognized the intruder.

“Emily Prentiss.”

“Ah… You know who I am,” Emily said mockingly. She closed the door behind her and stepped closer to you.

You kept your face stoic. “What are you doing here?”

Emily chuckled before replying. “What am I doing here? Well, what I’m doing is hunting for my next victim. And I’ve got my eye on you.”

You freezed momentarily to process her words. 

“It’s you.”

Emily cocked her head, “Who am I?”

“You’re the serial killer we’ve been looking for. You target men in law enforcement who abuse their power. We’ve been following your trail for the past six months.” You paused. “Why am I your next victim? I don’t fit in your criteria.”

Emily continued backing you up into the wall, smirking once you had nowhere else to go. “You’re a profiler, you tell me.”

You swallowed thickly, never taking your eyes off of her dark brown ones. “Because I’m your replacement.”

Emily hummed with a quirk of her lips. “Good girl. You really are good at your job, just like Hotch said.”

You slowly moved your heel to hit the SOS button you had installed underneath the kitchen cabinets to alert the team. However, Emily’s keen sense of hearing caught the faint buzz the signal made. 

“What’s that sound? You’re signaling your fellow agents to come over and rescue you?” Emily shook her head. “Here I was hoping for a private time with you. Now they’re gonna come and ruin our fun…”

“Why are you killing all of those people?”

“You know why.”

“But why?”

“Those men needed to be taught a lesson.” Emily paused. She steps right in front of you, pushing your gun aside to make room for her body. “They always underestimate a female agent… They see me as weak. I’m tired of it.”

You shuddered as she invaded your space. “You aren’t the only female agent to be underestimated. Not the first, not the last. I became a Supervisory Special Agent at only 28, and I continue to be looked down by most of the men I work with. What makes you different? What made you snap?”

A dark chuckle escaped Emily’s lips when she thought about your question. She shook her head before looking back into your eyes, observing your face with an annoyed expression.

“You think you understand exactly the position I’m in? You know nothing about how they look at me… Judging me behind my back that I don’t know what I’m doing. Do you know why I lost my job?”

When you shook your head, she continued. 

“I killed the man who stabbed me and left me for dead. He made my life a living hell, always lingering over me wherever I went. I lived in fear for years, and when I had the chance to end it, I took it. And that cost me my job that I worked so hard for. And yet, when Hotch killed the person who murdered his wife, he got a paid absence from work. Don’t you see what’s wrong with that? People saw him as a person acting on his grief. And they see me as a killer.”

You noticed the pain and rage she held in her eyes as she told her story. “Not everyone looks at you that way.”

Emily scoffed at your attempt to make her feel better. “Oh… What? You think you’re different? That you don’t look down on me? You’re just like them, thinking you have control over me.”

Your gaze softened, your empathetic nature getting the best of you. You set your gun down on the counter, pushing it away. Emily’s eyes followed your movement and then snapped back to your face in surprise.

“What are you doing? Why didn’t you shoot me?” she asked, her voice calm but held a sense of disbelief.

You stayed silent, also wondering why you would potentially let a criminal get away. When Emily’s eyebrow lifts prompting you to answer, you sighed.

“I don’t think I hold control over you. I don’t want to have control over anyone.”

Emily’s eyes darkened at the double entendre. She took hold of your wrists and pinned them above your head as she leaned in closer.

“No control, huh?”

Your eyes flutter closed as her breath fanned your ear. Why am I feeling like this towards a serial killer we’ve been chasing for months, you wonder.

Emily noticed your breath quickening and smirked to herself. “What’s this, agent? Are you feeling something for me…?”

You let your head fall back against the wall, relishing in her small kisses on your neck, her teeth grazing your skin so softly. However, the reality of your situation pulled you out of your daze. 

“The team will get here soon.”

Emily pulled back with a groan of annoyance. “Well, this moment can’t last forever, can it?”

She let go of your wrists, stepping away from you and heading toward the door.

“Emily,” you called out, to your own surprise.

Emily stopped when she heard her name, turning around with an eyebrow raised. 

You racked through your brain, thinking of what to say.

“Stay safe.”

Emily’s eyes softened at your words, but her face remained expressionless, not wanting to reveal her weakness to you.

“How interesting… An agent telling a wanted criminal to stay safe.”

You hold back your words as Emily lingered by the door. She broke her stare to look out the window where she could hear sirens approaching, but still a good distance away.  

“I’ll see you next time, agent,” she said softly before slipping out into the darkness, like many nights before.

[massivedrickhead]

Could you do something for “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”? Maybe as a follow-up or prequel or something to the prompt you did for “I’m not going to yell at you”? Thanks in advance! 🩵

First off, I'm so sorry this took so long! Usually when I go this long without posting any new fics it's because I'm working on something but I can probably count on one hand the number of times I've written anything in the last month.

I've had probably the worst writers' block I can ever remember having and I've just not felt any desire to write anything or work on any of my wips.

I don't even know if this is any good, but I'm hoping it'll pull me out of the slump.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Prompt taken from here

Trigger warning: physical domestic abuse

This is a prequel to this fic

Read on AO3

-

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Chloe didn’t believe him.

She swallowed, the pain radiating from her mouth as she forced a steadying breath through her nose. 

She knew her lip was bust. She could taste the blood in her mouth, could feel the sting when she swept her tongue across it.

“Chloe.”

Chicago knelt in front of her. His eyes were full of tears, one of his hands cradling the other as if he’d hurt it when it collided with her face. As if he was the one in pain right now.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…” he trailed off. “Are you okay?”

Chloe wanted to laugh, but instead tears stung her eyes. 

“Please don’t cry,” he said. “Please… Please just say something.”

“Can you get me some ice please?” Chloe asked, no longer recognising the sound of her own voice.

He seemed to deflate with relief, and Chloe felt her hatred for him grow. 

“Of course,” he said. “Let me help you up.”

Chloe couldn’t help but flinch away from him as he extended his hand towards her, and she saw the briefest flash of anger cross his eyes. 

She took his hand and he helped her up and onto her feet before he disappeared into the kitchen. 

Now alone, she gingerly touched the split in her lip and winced. It hurt more than she’d expected it to.

He’d never hit her before, and even though he was full of apologies and remorse now, Chloe already knew he would do it again. 

He came back with a bag of frozen peas. “We’re out of ice,” he said. 

Chloe nodded and took it from him, holding it against her rapidly swelling lip.

“I’m-”

“I know,” Chloe said, cutting him off. “I know you are.” She couldn’t bear to hear him say it again. “Let’s just… Let’s forget it.”

“Sure,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”

The rest of the evening passed in a tense silence until Chloe finally crawled into bed.

She feigned sleep long enough to hear the sound of Chicago’s snores fill the room, and then she eased herself out of bed.

Shoved in the back of her closet was a bag she’d begun prepping months ago. When the rose-tinted glasses had come off, she started to really see those red flags that she’d so often dismissed.

The bag contained some clothes, toiletries, a small amount of cash, and her important documents.

She grabbed it out of the closet and, still in her pyjamas, climbed into her car and drove. 

-

Beca had been fast asleep when the sound of her apartment buzzer cut through her dreams.

She groaned and fumbled for her phone, one eye closed as the bright screen lit up the room.

It was close to 2 am, and her stomach lurched as the noise continued.

She stumbled out of bed and hurried to the front door, her heart beating uncomfortably in her chest as she did so. 

No one ever knocks at your door at 2 am with good news…

“Hello?” Beca asked into the intercom.

“Beca?”

If Beca’s heart had been beating hard before, it was doing something else entirely now.

“Chloe?”

“Please can I come up?”

Beca hit the button to unlock the door without a second of hesitation, and she waited anxiously for Chloe to reach her apartment.

Even though she’d been expecting it, Beca still jumped at the sound of the tentative knock at the door and she hurried to open it.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said. “I’m so sorry for just turning up like this.” Chloe’s hands were shaking as she adjusted the weight of the bag on her shoulder, and her eyes shining with tears. “Please can I stay? Chicago, he’s…”

Chloe trailed off, but she didn’t need to tell Beca what Chicago had done, because Beca could see it for herself.

Beca felt like she couldn’t speak, so she just stepped aside so Chloe could enter her apartment. She shut the door behind them and slid the chain lock across for good measure.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Chloe said. “I’m sorry.”

Beca shook her head and forced herself to find her voice. “Don’t be sorry,” she said. “Of course you can stay here.”

Chloe seemed to deflate with relief in front of her, and Beca hated that in Chloe’s mind, there might have been a chance she’d have turned her away.

“Stupid question, but are you okay?” Beca asked.

Chloe shrugged. “I don’t think so,” she said, tears filling her eyes faster than she could wipe them away. 

Beca wasted no time in closing the gap between them and wrapping Chloe up in a hug. “I’m so sorry this happened to you,” she said. “How can I help? What can I do?”

“Can I go lay down?” Chloe asked, the adrenaline that had been keeping her going was now quickly fading away. “I’m really tired.”

“Of course,” Beca said, reluctantly ending their hug. “Take my bed until I can get the spare room set up. I can sleep on the couch.”

Chloe took hold of her hand. “Please come with me,” she said. “I don’t want to be by myself.”

Beca nodded and squeezed Chloe’s hand. Her throat felt tight. “Go ahead,” she said, the strain evident in her voice. “I’ll be right in.”

With Chloe out of the room, Beca’s hands closed into fists, and she clenched her jaw shut in order to hold back the scream that threatened to erupt. 

She’d never felt an anger quite like this before, and she needed it to go before she joined Chloe in the bedroom.

She closed her eyes and imagined herself pummeling every square inch of Chicago. Her jaw was clenched so tight she was amazed her teeth hadn’t shattered. 

She counted to ten in her head, and then forced a slow breath out through her mouth.

Her anger was no good to Chloe right now. Chloe needed her to be strong and stable, but not angry.

She could be angry later, but not now. Not tonight.

She filled a glass with water and returned to the bedroom. Chloe was curled up on her side, her face lit up by her phone screen.

“Here,” Beca said, placing the water on the nightstand.

“Thanks,” Chloe said, locking her phone and placing it on her nightstand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Beca asked, climbing into the bed beside her.

“Not really,” Chloe said. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” Beca said. “That’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“I, um, I don’t really know what to do Bec,” Chloe said, her voice beginning to waver again. She let out a small sob, that was quickly followed by another. “I’m sorry,” she said, quickly wiping her eyes.

“Don’t,” Beca said. “Don’t be sorry, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” She lifted her arm so Chloe could cuddle into her side, which she eagerly did. 

“What’s going to happen when he figures out where I am?”

Beca felt that anger pulse in her again, but she pushed it away. “I don’t know,” Beca answered honestly. “But we’ll figure it out. I do know one thing though, and that’s that he won’t put his hands on you again.”

Chloe knew it wasn’t as simple as that but she allowed herself, for that moment, to feel safe. To feel protected. She decided to believe her. 

“All you need to worry about now is getting some rest,” Beca said. “We can deal with everything else tomorrow.”

[iridescentpull]

A talk with a Rose Bush [ ao3 link here ]

[ fic under cut ! ]

The rose bush, somehow, is still intact and thriving– much bigger than when Fit saw it last around three weeks ago.

The male places his hand on his hip, raising an eyebrow. “Huh, I thought it’d be destroyed by now.” He mumbles, before shaking his head with a smile on his face. “Then again, you were always strong, resilient, tough… I should know by now you’re too stubborn to be teared down that easily.”

It had taken him a while to come back. He needed to return to his footing first, finding his old belongings before slowly nursing himself back to health. After he was no longer a walking corpse, dirty and stained with blood, he traveled around. The Wastes wait for nothing or no one, and soon Fit found himself already being the Wasteland Historian once again.

After his radio report transmission detailing the eye amour trim cult, Fit thought it’d be nice to stop by the rose bush– one of the only things he managed to keep with him after he returned from Quesadilla Island.

Plus, it was their anniversary. He had to visit.

Fit walks closer, reaching out and caressing one of the leaves between his fingers. They’re healthy, green and soft. The thorns are sharp and pointy as well, a sure sign that the rose bush is well cared for. The roses themselves are red and in full bloom, the petals plump and vibrant.

The historian chuckles softly, before going into his inventory and pulling out a bottle of water. A small voice in his mind tells him that he shouldn’t be wasting water, but he shoves it down, wanting to water his rose bush.

He pours the water on the rose bush, giving a fond smile. “It’s not much, but I brought you something.” He says softly. “I hope you like it.”

He sets the bottle down, before sitting beside the bush. A few of the rocks he had placed all those weeks ago dig into his legs, but Fit pays it no mind. “Sorry it took me a while to visit.” He says, hand playing with the dirt. “A lot’s been going on, but I bring fofoca.”

Silence follows his words, the Wasteland wind the only sound. Fit leans back, resting against his arms, letting his legs stretch out. “Just when I managed to get back on my feet, word of some cult popped up.” The historian says before laughing. “So you know I had to go investigate and record.”

He looks over at the rose bush, a grin spreading across his lips. “And let me tell you, this cult is pretty interesting. It all centers around some armor trim that only spawns in strongholds, so it’s very rare.” The male snorts. “It was odd, but very entertaining. The transmission was very well received.”

Fit sighs, looking up at the sky. The stars are as bright as they always are, twinkling down on him. “I hope you’ve been doing okay. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He says, looking back down at the bush. “Today would’ve been our sixth month dating anniversary– or maybe fifth month?” He chuckles. “I’m not good at keeping track. I just know is it felt longer.”

Another pause, as the historian smiles. “I don’t really know why I’m even talking. You’re just a rose bush." He chuckles. “But I guess, even if it is a little odd, it’s kind of nice. Helps me sort through my thoughts.”

The rose bush sways thanks to the wind. “Plus, roses always were our thing.” Fit says, fidgeting with the strap of his knee pads. “They’re beautiful and strong, and no matter where they are, they’ll still manage to grow and thrive.” He smiles. “And I guess... I always kind of saw you in them. You always were knocked down and beaten up and hurt, but you always came back. Even when everything seemed to be going wrong, you still made everything right. It was incredible how you could do that.”

Fit lets out a sigh, leaning forward. “Some part of me believes you’re not actually... gone.” He whispers, looking up at the sky. “That the grave I saw was all fake and you’re just hiding. Maybe you found Ramón and you’re on your way to find me.” He smiles tightly. “It sounds silly, and I know it’s not true, but some part of me can’t help but hope.”

A few tears well up in his eyes. “I miss you and Ramón so much. I wished I got closer to Richas.” He says, voice tight. “It hurts so much. Every time I think about us, it’s like someone stabbed me through the chest.” The historian bites his lip. “I miss Ramón especially– I hope you're looking out for him wherever you are.”

He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. He’s silent, letting the silence envelop him. There’s a faint scent of roses that fills the air, and the wind is a bit softer and warmer than before. The historian stays there, in his little corner, for a long time, just listening to the Wasteland around him.

Eventually, the moon hangs high in the sky, the night turning chilly.

“I regret not telling you I loved you that day, Pac.” Fit says. “I regret it so much. If I could turn back time, I would’ve done that, and told you.” He sighs, prosthetic arm resting on his lap.

A breeze flows, and Fit swears he feels a hand brush his face, and a pair of lips gently kiss his forehead. The historian smiles. “Then again, I have a feeling you knew.” He chuckles, voice deep and fond. “You always seemed to know what I felt, even if I didn’t.”

He takes a shaky breath. “Still.” Fit whispers. “I wish I had told you. But now, I just want you to know: I love you, Pac, and I still do.”

The rose bush seems to glow in the moonlight, as if responding.

“Happy anniversary, my beloved.” Fit says softly, and he stays a few more moments before getting up. He picks up his bottle and his bag, giving the rose bush a sad smile. “I’ll try to visit every few weeks or so, okay? So you better keep being alive, okay?”

Fit looks up at the night sky, before beginning his walk back. The breeze picks up, and he swears he can hear a familiar, gentle laugh, before it fades away.

The wind blows, and the rose bush seems to glow in response.

[on-leatheredwings]

Secret Admirer

Yandere! Dick Grayson / Yandere! Green Lantern! Gender Neutral Reader

> romantic > tw/cw: yandere behaviors. Kissing. Heavy petting. > rated M > summary: You should stop playing with fire. Because when you do, you make him want to be crazy. Crazier. And Dick’s worked really, really hard to wrap those habits up. > a/n: wow nothing truly despicable in this one i’m so vanilla now <3 the reader is male to me but feel free to imagine what you want. I rlly like writing pre-yandere + pre-relationship stuff, it’s so fun . may write more for actual smut possibilities > word count: 1472

Newly-acquired powers or not, you are really poking the bear here. 

Dick has known you've been following him since yesterday. He allowed it because who was he if not a performer? He thrived on attention, and especially yours. But today, you had gotten too close to a fight. Sure, you had stayed an appropriate distance away, but the fact it had happened at all was worrying. It made him distracted. Distracted enough that he wasn’t pulling his punches on criminals like usual. 

“Now that it’s getting quite late–” he begins, to which you audibly gasp. An adorable sound. “–how about you finally come out and let me help you?”

He turns around to a swath of darkness that paints the rooftop’s entry door in black shadow.

Behind the corner, you curse. Damn it, he caught you. … Well, you could’ve told yourself this would happen. Dick, the fine friend he was, surely said it would. No one really ‘sneaks up’ on one of the Bats. And definitely not Nightwing, the most tenured of them all aside Batman himself.

You got caught, and lord knows what Nightwing will do to you. You bite your lips, mind running wild. Who knows what Nightwing will do to you, indeed? You feel a pang of arousal at the thought. 

You step out of the shadows, trying to act natural. Nightwing’s eyes lock onto your humble form, and you find yourself warming over every inch of your body. You want him bad.

His body stiffens, for reasons you can’t discern. It doesn’t seem like hostility… you think?

You adjust your domino mask, cursing silently that the adhesive is finally starting to give after a long night of following him around. Stealth isn’t really a natural gift for a Green Lantern, either. Turning down your glow while using your powers to maintain soundless stalking was hard. Harder than expected. 

“What are you doing here?”

You smile, hoping your giddy expression is hidden by the hoodie you’ve chosen to wear on your escapade. 

It certainly is not, which makes Dick pleased.

Now that you've made contact with him, his first thought is that he ought to tell Batman about this. And the rest of the team, while he’s at it. Dick Grayson knows that Nightwing is your 'celebrity' crush, and that you're enamored with the rest of the Bat Family. What if you confronted them someday as well?

On the Batcomputer is a file on John Stewart, complete a footnote that is you. Said footnote has graduated to its own page, now that you have your own hero exploits to document. They'd be less welcoming and more wary of a hero on their turf. He has to protect you.

“I… I…” you croak, tongue heavy with anxiety. You can’t help but be nervous. 

“Sometime tonight?” he teases. 

“You’re beautiful,” you blurt.

He is taken aback, before he recollects his wits. 

“I really like you,” you say again, stepping forward. He lifts his hand in warning. Stay back. You get chills, but don’t stop treading forward. You can tell his eyes are narrowed beneath his mask.

When he’s finally in arms’ reach, you are pushed against the wall. And not roughly at all, you notice. You smile with delight, your hands immediately landing on his shoulders. Nightwing’s glare doesn’t feel hostile at all. Suspicious, maybe. But not hostile.

“... What do you mean by, you “really” like me?” You suspected that he probably wouldn’t believe you.

“Well,” you fluster, “I mean that I really like you.” Dick’s heart jolts. “And I want you.” It nearly flatlines.

Oh, don’t say that, don’t say that, Dick thinks, despite the elation that begins to tighten his throat. You? Want him? If he had known all he needed to do to grab your attention was put on the suit, he would’ve done that ages ago. He felt nearly invisible to you during the day, all his flirtation falling on deaf ears and blind eyes.

At Nightwing’s silence, you lick your lips. An action that makes his eyes dilate behind his mask. 

“I-I’m serious!”

Nightwing leans in closer, as if inspecting the truth in your expression, raking over every atom. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he breathes.

“It’s not a game at all to me,” you say, feeling lightheaded from the small distance between you two. This doesn't feel real.

To love and be loved is all you’ve ever wanted. You’d think that would give you the violet ring of Love. Instead, the ring that had appeared in your hand one fateful night was acid green, sparkling and mesmerizing. Apparently, instead of embodying love, you simply were driven enough to seek it at any costs. Driven enough to never be alone ever again.

You have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps, it said. You had taken it without hesitation.

“Kiss me,” you say, hands rising to cup his jaw. As if he’s not already leaning in.

Your lips meet in an unabashed frenzy. You’re nearly blown away by the pure amount of feeling in his kiss – that's quite a lot of emotion for a stranger. Not that you aren’t equally impassioned. You feel so raw and naked, kissing him. You hope he can't feel all your insanity, your obsession, your infatuation.

However, Dick certainly does, so much that he moans openly, the sound making both your lips buzz.

You make him want to be crazy. Crazier. And he’s worked really, really hard to wrap those habits up. 

You shudder, feeling the pressure of his cup press in between your thighs. God, you wished you could feel the real thing. Your hand slips in between you two, tracing the lines of his abs. Dick shivers. He peels off your domino mask, but you don’t even flinch. You don’t care if he knows who you are. You want him to know everything. Inside and out.

Your eyes flutter open as you gyrate against his hips, sinful and frustrating. You peer up at him, cheeks blazing. You want him.

He looks into your eyes, and it's as if he can read your mind. He wants to swallow you whole. He wants to map every inch of your body. His cock is painfully straining against his suit. You are not a want, but a need.

But Dick is trying to be good, he really is. The night’s not over. He’s still on patrol, technically. You may want Nightwing, but do you want Dick Grayson? If he fucked you on this rooftop, throwing restraint into the wind, would that be taking advantage of you? Do you just hero worship him? All the questions fly through his mind at rapid speed, and he wants them to quiet, before the Angry Orphan inside him decides to just stop caring completely. 

But he… he’s strong. We don't have to be, his mind interjects, screaming at him. But he quiets it. He whimpers at the tightness against his groin, a sound that makes you look at him curiously. You are completely blissfully ignorant to his inner strife. Completely innocent.

Dick narrows his eyes, channeling his best Batman impression.

“You should go home.”

You balk almost comically. “W-wait.” Nightwing retreats, but not before you can grab his wrist. “At least– at least, can we go on a date? Or even hang out? Or–” His thumb traces the curve of your lips, silencing you with a shiver.  

“Go home.” Firmly said, yet gentle.

You frown, though it’s more like a pout. Man, you’re cute, he thinks. “When can I see you again?”

Dick certainly isn’t strong enough to be responsible and say “You can’t.” 

So Nightwing just stares at you, looking… hesitant. The pieces click in your mind. Ah, so he liked it. Your lips curl, like a cat with cream. You take that as a victory.

“... I-I’ll come back tomorrow night,” you state boldly, stealing a chaste kiss before he could argue. Dick has to basically pull himself away, despite his desire to keep your bodies flush and perfectly fitted against one another.

You slip your ring onto your finger, and your entire body glows, rampant with Lantern light. You begin to float.

“Tomorrow!” you blurt, already wanting him again. You zip away, flying home. All the while, you slap at your warm cheeks, trying to see if this is a dream, laughing with glee, mind going haywire with heated fantasies. You kissed Nightwing. You basically groped him. And he didn’t stop you. Oh god, wait until you tell Dick. 

The confrontation went better than expected. At worst, you figured Nightwing would shoo you away, reject you. Despite the abrupt ending, he at least seemed… interested? You try not to dwell on it too much. It doesn’t matter.

You’re a Green Lantern. You’re powerful. Willful. He will be yours, someday.

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 8

Tommy Shelby x reader

Master list

A/N: another part, another thank you for reading and following this series! I had the initial idea for this chapter for Tommy and Y/N to witness something that brings them closer, then I realized it got longer than I expected 🫢 so I’ll have to hold the introduction of another character for the upcoming part 🤭 bare with me in this ride! And enjoy the slow burn 🥰

Word count: 3,595

Gypsy poem mentioned

“Mr. Benston, what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” Tommy held the receiver against his ear.

“Mr. Shelby I hope you’re doing well.”

Tommy rolled his eyes at the fake sentiment, he wanted to end the call as soon as possible.

“There’s really no other way to tell you this, but here it goes…” Tommy heard him sigh at the other end. “Rumors are spread easily and unfortunately, people believe it wherever it’s true or not.”

“I’m not following you.” Tommy stated, getting annoyed by the minute, he wanted everything done right and fast. “Where do you want to go with this Mr. Benston?”

“Mrs. Benston overheard our maids talking about the woman in charge of the charity, I know she’s close to your family and I’m not judging you, to be honest. But if I’m donating money I don’t want it to be involved in gossip and rumors.”

Leaning on his desk, Tommy looked at the ceiling and felt his jaw clenching. “What rumors are you talking about?”

“The maid assured my wife, this woman in charge…”

“YL/N. It’s Miss YL/N.” Tommy corrected him.

“Miss YL/N doesn’t know who the father of her child is. At some point she even mentioned the child is yours therefore why you put her in charge of the charity.”

The last thing Tommy wanted for Y/N was this exactly, having her rolling from mouth to mouth, people taking about her, walking over her reputation. The realization hit him hard and he pinched the bridge of his nose in a attempt to remain under control.

“There are morals and values we still swear by Mr. Shelby… and you can have as many children outside marriage as you please, but the charity needs a woman who’s at certain level, a match for our society.”

“Mr. Benston so your main concern is Y/N’s reputation because she’s not married.” He swore under his breath. “Or because you’re unsure if I’m that baby’s father.”

“That’s correct.”

“With all due respect, it’s a personal matter so that’s none of your business in the first place.” Tommy took a deep breath. “Secondly, how would it make you look in front of your beloved society if people knew about the affair you had with your maid, which led her to get pregnant with your child and since your wife wasn’t able to carry one, you stole that baby from the mother and locked her in a mental hospital?”

A heavy silence set between them.

Tommy knew a lot of dirty secrets and a bunch of respectable people who were everything but respectable.

“Hmm?” He added more pressure to the wound. “Mrs. Benston has been doing a wonderful joy raising a boy that isn’t hers by blood, a Benston heir right?”

Again, silence at the other side.

“Maids are a wonderful thing huh? They know a lot of dirty little secrets…”

Y/N strolled through the Shelby Company Ltd. under the curious eyes and glances of the secretaries, she definitely noticed the way they stared at her from head to toe, stopping an uncomfortable amount of time in her belly.

What were they looking at?

Why would they turn around and start mouthing to the closest secretary something she couldn’t understand?

Fixing her eyes on the floor, she decided to keep walking, this would happen sooner or later, she just needed to create an armor around her, a strong shell to protect her and her baby from judging glances and people with bad blood.

Knocking softly on Tommy’s door, she opened it and poking her head she found him inviting her in, but she got the hint to remain quiet while he was on the phone, so she took seat in one of the couches, her legs were on fire, she wanted to take a long bath.

“So I think from now on, you’ll double your generous donation Mr. Benston correct? Did I hear you right?”

Throwing a quick glance in Y/N’s direction, he winked at her. The phone call turned around quickly and ended with Mr. Benston being backfired,

“Yes, the Shelby Institute feels so thankful for your selflessness. Bye.” Hanging up, Tommy turned around to place the phone in its place.

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “What was that?”

Tommy cleared his throat and went on to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “Just a really wealthy man willing to donate the institution a generous amount each month.” He explained with a wicked smile.

Tommy felt bad for lying to her, but he couldn’t bare to hurt her. He just hoped the word wouldn’t spread like gunpowder around.

“Oh… well I just came to show you the numbers Michael did, considering what we already raised,” she sighed loudly.

“What is it?” Tommy eyed her from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know what’s going on outside but all your secretaries were giving me strange glances, as if they’ve never seen a pregnant woman before.” She chuckled.

Tommy’s head snapped in Y/N’s direction, her words caught his attention, he was always a step ahead of everyone and everything, how could he didn’t see this coming?

Something made click in his mind instantly. Someone must’ve spread the word around, therefore the sudden call he got and what Y/N just mentioned. Feeling a sudden urge to protect Y/N, Tommy decided to do something to distract her, he didn’t want her to suffer and pay for something that wasn’t her fault.

“Come with me.”

And Y/N did, she followed him because she knew there was no way to say no to him. She waved at Esme goodbye on their way out, a few days ago she announced her pregnancy with barely a bump, and now Esme was showing almost as her.

“May I ask how is the business doing?” Y/N asked in a low tone, wondering if she was interrupting his thoughts. Shuddering in the process, that business was almost a secret, the Shelby brothers were communicating through glances when anyone else was around.

“No.” Tommy answered in a serious tone but then wrinkles appeared around the corner of his eyes when he smiled. “Don’t be noisy.”

“I’m not noisy.” Y/N pouted.

“Yeah sure.” He was back into his usual self teasing and joking with her. “Do you know Russian?” Y/N shook her head. “Then you can’t help.”

“Ah come on, you don’t speak Russian either.”

Squinting his eyes, Tommy started speaking.

“save ami se

hi slobuzenja

ami jaul

o lungo drom”

It took Y/N several seconds to catch his words, but her mind suddenly remembered.

“You’re a bad liar.” She immediately went back in time, an ancient Romani poem he showed her years ago, but he was making a Russian accent. “in the forests

we respect

animals flowers trees

when we build our fire

we always clean up after us.” She continued the translated version.

Tommy gave her then a surprised look. “You still remember it?”

“Proud gypsy.” Y/N nodded.

How could she ever forget? How couldn’t she go back in time to that day when she went to play outside and meet a boy that was pretending to ride a caravan -a made shift with a sheet and pulled by a horse. He was shy and reserved at first, but she was fascinated by the endless stories he told her about his gypsy roots and tales on the road.

She spent hours listening to him speaking roca -with the proper translation of course-, and eventually he found the poem in his mother’s notebook.

“Even then, you were always worried about everyone.” She noted.

He had always been protective over those who he loved.

“Bad habits die hard.” Tommy chuckled, his childhood wasn’t always easy, but she definitely made it better.

Y/N wondered how different he would be if things happened differently, if his mother was still alive, if they didn’t have to go to the war… if she didn’t thought Scott was a good distraction. But she was forced to put her thoughts aside, as she felt urgency to pee. “Can you stop the car?”

“Why? What happened?”

“Just stop it… I need to take a wee.” She explained embarrassed.

Tommy looked around, they were in the middle of nowhere. “Let me get closer to those trees.”

She bit her lower lip, pray he’d hurry up. “Are you sure an animal won’t bite me here?”

“If something bites you it doesn’t matter, just spit in the wound.”

“That’s gross!” She defended.

Tommy gave her an amused look. “You don’t know right? Pregnant women salive is full of properties that cuts off the venom of snakes.”

The surprised look Y/N gave him assured Tommy that she didn’t know.

“How do you know that?”

“A snake bit me back in the day, my Mum was pregnant with Ada she used her spit and covered the wound with a clean cloth and here I am, strong as a horse.”

“Do you always have to refer to an animal? What’s wrong with you?”

His chuckle resonated into the deepest parts of her soul as she climbed out of the car to find a safe place to take a wee -as safest as the trees could be of course-.

Tommy took a cigarette, he was aching for a smoke. The road was practically deserted, but still he was always looking around, keeping an eye just in case. Anything could happen in a blink and he needed to be alert.

“Are you done?!” He shouted over his shoulder, just to piss her off.

“Would ya give me a fucking minute?!” Y/N shouted back mortified.

This wasn’t practical at all, she felt like an animal in the wild, but this was all she got for now and she needed to stick to it. Besides it wasn’t like she could hold it for so long.

Cleaning herself she tried to rush back to the car, huffing from the effort. “Sorry about that, can’t control it.” She apologized getting in the car again.

Tommy held the passenger door open for her while blowing the smoke in the opposite direction.

“It’s alright, needed to stretch a bit anyways.” He grinned. Who would’ve told him he’d stoping his car in the middle of nowhere for a pregnant woman to pee. “So… did Polly tell you already?” Tommy asked giving her a side glance.

Y/N couldn’t help to smile big. “I asked her to not tell me. Did she tell you?”

Tommy started rubbing his chin, a soft smile decorating his lips as he kept his eyes on the road again.

“Don’t tell me, I just want this baby to be healthy.”

“I really don’t understand how she knows, but she got Ada’s right and I remember she did the same with my Mother when she was pregnant with Finn.”

“She could use her talent and charge for it.” Y/N joked about Polly’s gift to predict the baby’s sex.

“See, that’s a brilliant mind, always sell your abilities.” Tommy encouraged. “Alright, this is it.”

Y/N noticed Tommy took a right and entered a different road. The property was as big as his own house. She could only think how tired she’d be to have to go from one room to another, poor maids who had to clean everything.

The gardener tipped his head towards Tommy knowledging him, while he moved as if he owned the place. Y/N following his steps, feeling like she really didn’t belong there.

“Need to have some rest? It’s a long way.” Tommy looked over his shoulder to make sure she was doing okay.

“No, I’m fine.” Her eyes stopped at the pond, it had fishes.

“Gold fish keeps the worms away from the horses.” Tommy explained, reading her mind.

Y/N gave him a doubtful look. “Are you messing with me?”

But Tommy shook his head. “Never, I swear it’s true. It helps to keep the water clean.” He crouched down, inviting her to do the same. “Go on, you can touch them.”

To show her it was alright, Tommy tipped his hand inside, making a circle with his finger.

When she was about to dip her finger too, Tommy spoke again.

“Careful, they can bite your hand off.”

Y/N gasped in shock at first, then when she realized he was only joking, she laughed. It was a strange sensation, the skin felt flaky against her touch made her giggle.

“I hope the horses won’t eat the fishies.” She added and then saw Tommy rolling his eyes. “Oh what? You’re the only one allowed to make jokes?”

Y/N shook her hand towards him, making a few drops land on his suit and vest.

Tommy clicked his tongue and pretended as if he would throw water at her. Y/N squealed giving her back at him, feeling like they were teenagers again playing by the river.

“Follow me, I want you to meet Apollo.”

“Your horse has a name?” Y/N asked perplexed.

“Of course, they all do.” He pointed at the floor for her to be careful with the hay. “This good boy is going to win the next Derby.”

Y/N saw Tommy stood in front of the box and gently caressed the animal, taking his time to ask how he was doing, check behind his ears and take a look at the mare’s body. He had always been a horse’s man, the amount of time he spent brushing that white horse his mother gave him, no one knew where it came from, but Tommy assured her it was a fine horse, he had magic in his eyes and now she was witnessing the way the horse followed Tommy’s steps like he was kind of under a spell.

Y/N noticed the way Tommy’s energy changed, it was indescribable but he turned into someone completely different. They were in a bubble, in their own little world, like they were one soul divided in two bodies.

And it almost made Y/N feel jealous of the closeness and complicity between Tommy and his horse, she could hear him whispering sweet little nothings and the way the horse made little sounds in response.

Then the horse stared at her and started moving slowly, tipping his head down. At first Y/N was shocked to feel the moose against her stomach, but Tommy told her it was alright, his horse wouldn’t hurt her.

“It’s like he knows I’m pregnant?”

“Oh he does,” Tommy nodded, “I just told him.”

“Is this another of your jokes?” She laughed nervously as the horse breathed against her baby bump.

“I never joke about horses, Y/N. He knows there’s a life growing inside you, they understand more than we do.”

There was something in his blue eyes that she couldn’t name, something that was making her hold his gaze. Something so profound she never experienced before. It was both terrifying and calming at the same time.

And then, as if the moment wasn’t intense enough, she felt her baby wriggling inside her for the first time.

“What is it?” Tommy asked with concern in his voice.

“The baby… is moving.” She explained.

Grabbing his hand in a blunt movement, she placed it on top of her blouse, giving him a few seconds to feel the movement against her side.

“Oh wow.” Tommy finally managed to feel a small but determined movement against his palm.

“Over here.” She changed his hand in another direction. Her hand covering his, she could feel Tommy holding his breath as his eyes shot up to find hers, surprise written all over them, this was something he had never felt before.

“Is this something good?” He asked in a whisper.

“I think the baby started moving when the horse was close, like the baby feels the horse around.”

Was this what a new life felt like? The miracle of a tiny human growing inside her?

Tommy could feel his heart about to explode, to be able to experiment something so personal, so profound, something that wasn’t meant to be his.

He, the ruthless leader of a gang, the heartless Small Heath Devil, there he was with tears blurring his vision and emotions making him feel things he had never felt before.

This baby wasn’t born yet and it was already his weakness.

The only time she had seen Tommy cry was when his mother passed away. He rarely allowed his emotions to the surface and Y/N knew too well this meant to him so much more than he could than he could actually put into words. Her unborn child somehow managed to get under his skin, past the high wall Thomas Shelby had built around him.

And now she was emotional too.

Tommy had been nothing but a gentleman to her, looking after her every need and wish during the hardest time of her life. And instead of pointing a finger and judging her actions, he welcomed her under his wing to protect her from the cruel world outside.

Without a doubt, Tommy was the best man she knew.

“It feels like a huge butterfly’s wings fluttering.” She explained.

Tommy felt lost for words, there was nothing he could say that could match what he felt.

A part of him felt guilty for stealing the baby’s father place and get the chance to experience all of this, but the other part told him he wasn’t doing anything wrong, because the baby’s father actually chose not to be involved. And in that moment, he made a silent promise to look after that child as his own.

Someone clearing his throat interrupted them. “I’m going to clean the barn, and the smell can be a bit strong for the lady.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tommy muttered, still altered by his feelings, so he turned around and walked his horse into the box, then he guided Y/N outside.

And then he did the only thing he knew when he wasn’t sure how to deal with his feelings. “I think it was the way your baby is telling you about his or hers future horse.”

Y/N gave him a shocked glance. “No, no way. Tommy you can’t buy my child a horse!”

“Who’s gonna stop me? You?” He scoffed. “Besides, I‘m that baby’s godfather remember?” Tommy announced proudly.

She groaned. “Don’t make me regret it.” As they started walking towards his vehicle, Curiosity won her over. “Who lives here?”

“My horses’ trainer.”

“No way, really?”

“Her husband passed away so she took over his business and with her family’s wealthy, well she became filthy wealthy.”

“So the horse training is just a hobby?”

Tommy shuddered not wanting to get too deep into that conversation. “Probably, once you have money you always want more and more.”

Y/N took his hand when he approached the other side of the vehicle.

The weight of his words sinking in her mind.

“That’s how it works? That’s what you want? More money?”

Tommy swallowed hard, Y/N always knew what to say to get his attention, the truth -he sometimes didn’t want to hear-, always hanging from her lips.

“That’s just how the world works, Y/N.” He replied instead. “Money can buy anything.”

He was right, he was just proving that by recently buying a mansion, he already had three cars parked in his garage, eight horses plus the ones under training, he paid for a staff at his house, paid the cops, he was also paying the remodeling of the building they’d use for the Shelby Institute and everything that was needed. And last but not least, he was paying her salary and a monthly amount of money for her baby already, the sapphire he recently gifted her and endless other things.

The echo of his words silenced her own.

Y/N decided then to turn her head away from him to look outside on the road they were leaving behind.

But you can’t buy love. Can’t buy happiness either. So… is it really worth it? She wanted to say, but instead the words kept playing in the back of her mind.

“Before I forget…a man came looking for you at the Institution.” Y/N explained shaking her head a bit, her mind felt funny at times and she forgot things.

“Who? When?”

She saw the frown in Tommy’s face. “A few days ago, he seemed strange if you ask me, wearing clothes as a priest, said he’d supervise th-”

“Fucking Hughes, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He demanded frustrated.

“Calm down, I-I forgot.”

“This is important and delicate, Y/N you can’t simply forget those things.” Tommy snapped not aware he was hurting her feelings.

Until a little sob escaped her lips and Tommy felt like a piece of shit.

“No, Y/N I’m sorry shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” He didn’t want to upset her. “Sorry I’m just trying to keep you safe, away from this…”

“I should‘ve told you sooner.” Y/N took a deep breath. She didn’t know what’s gotten into her, that reaction wasn’t like her. “I didn’t like him, but I thought he was related to the operation.”

“If you see him again, don’t tell him anything.” Tommy held the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. “I’m going to place some blinders guarding the Institute.”

Y/N turned to look at Tommy and by the tone in his voice, she felt worried.

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[damn-stark]

Final chapter the last ballad of the Fallen

Final chapter of Sugar

A/N- Thank you so much for staying tuned to this series and giving it so much love, I appreciate every single one of you that gave me the motivation to keep writing! I love you all so much, thank you and I really hope you like this last chapter!!

Warning- FLUFF!!! talks of death and violence, SPOILERS!!!!

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode and or chapters- none

————

Dear Satoru,

It’s been 6 months since the fall of Sukuna. It’s been six months since the merger and curses and cursed techniques as we know them have been eradicated.

You would think the world would know some kind of peace without getting terrorized by beasts. You would assume that the Jujutsu society as you know it would collapse with no true relevance behind it anymore, but roots can’t truly die without yanking them out of the ground.

How poetic of me I know, you’d laugh at me until you heard the whisperings I’ve heard about a fallen sorcerer taking a grip on the power-hungry minds of our old world, with no promise for revival of our power, just a promise of control, security, justice, and a grander eternity, a better society.

They’re all true markings of a messiah, a god, a prophet, a savior.

You would think they wouldn’t believe it, we’re too smart for that, aren’t we? But they all bow at the feet of none other than your little sister.

It seems she truly took something from Suguru. Maybe we should blame him for feeding her his crap. But then again all he would be is glad that she’s becoming the leader he only dreamed of becoming.

If only you were here, Satoru, you would have stopped her before she even could start scheming. Now who will stop her?

All the big sorcerer families follow her because they fear losing their control and power, even the quiet Inumaki family have a lot to say about her now since she turned them into one of the big three after the extinction of the Zen’in’s. And the Kamo’s are no better.

You would think Choso would stop her, and knock some sense into her, but maybe I’m expecting too much from him, he follows her blindly. Not even Yuji could convince him to talk to her, the boy is neither here nor there. He’s neutral, and why wouldn’t he be? He lost a lot. A promise for a greater tomorrow is tempting, even to me, but I couldn’t follow her. She doesn’t even talk to me, I don’t know how long she’ll stay mad at me. Maybe forever?

All I know about her is things I hear from whispers of other people; Kirara, or Yuji, but even that’s rare since I don’t really see them anymore.

What I do know is that what she’s doing is kind of working I admit that. After all, you paved the way after you killed the higher-ups. I would scold you over the outcome, but you’re not here so I’ll let you off and actually tell you that you’re having a niece and nephew; Tsukuyomi and Suki, did she ever tell you the names she and Choso picked?

I’m sorry I don’t know more, I wish I did, I wish I knew why she’s doing what she’s doing at great risk to her beloved peaceful life. Control? Power? Fear of being weak? I don’t know, I’m sorry. I really am.

That’s all I wanted to tell you this time, it’s something I couldn’t say out loud. And even if you’ll never read this it helped.

Yours truly, Shoko.

——

*YOU*

You can hear it, the cries of regret and sorrow echoing from the fire.

You can smell the smoke and flesh like something out of an apocalypse. But what is terror compared to the adrenaline rushing through your veins as people bow at your feet, in the same way, non-sorcerers would bow to Suguru?

Even if they are escaping their demise you still stand tall over the people accepting the way things need to be.

After desiring nothing but a better world for most of your life, finally you’re seeing that dream come true.

And yes there is an argument that can be had over the fact that cursed techniques and the power behind cursed energy are gone forever, but nothing changes who you all are and the society you were all born into. Everyone bowing sees that, you see that, and the people you love see that.

“Today marks an end to the old world,” you announce proudly to the crowd of ex-sorcerers. “Today marks the beginning of change and the start of our new world. We may not have our power, but we still know who we are, no one can take that away,” you trail on softer, causing murmurs to spread throughout the crowd.

“We will not fall. We will not be forgotten, we will live on as a greater society, better than the one the higher-ups and the old stubborn heads of our clans forced us to live under,” you don’t falter or let your confidence slip. Your smirk holds your glory, and your eyes shout your pride as well as your gentleness and sincerity.

Yet there’s a drop in your voice, one only Choso, Kirara, and Hakari can detect. “Part of it is due to…my brother, the wielder of the six eyes, and the limítless technique, Satoru Gojo,” you pause and sigh, as well as feel a weight fall on your frail chest. “He paved the way when he got rid of the higher-ups once and for all. He wanted a better world for the next generation, for the students he taught and cherished, and for the people he loved. He’s gone now but his will will not be forgotten, not by me. He’s part of the reason why I stand here…as well as for the ones I've lost, the ones treated unfairly because of what they were,” you mention and remember Nanako and Mimiko before you glance at Choso to speechlessly let him know that his brothers were in mind when you spoke those words.

“The ones snubbed,” you continue and now meet the gazes of Hakari and Kirara so they know you haven’t forgotten them or the treatment they were put under. When you look back at the ground you aim to portray the same sincerity so they know you mean what you’re saying and so that they can trust you.

“…And for all of you. Today marks the start of a new world for all of us!” You exclaim and grin, and much to your surprise the crowd erupts with excitement after a promise of a new tomorrow where the power they wield doesn’t really have to die. They’ll never know true power anymore, but thanks to what you promise they’ll never know the true loss of control or be as frail as the true non-sorcerers.

That should make you happy too—you are, you’re proud. You look at Choso standing beside you and find comfort and joy in holding his hand. You glance over at Kirara, Harkari, Larue, Miguel, and the rest of your family and you’re happy that you can keep your word for a better tomorrow, but when you see the mirage of your brother standing in front of the crowd, nothing takes away from the loneliness that surrounds you.

You’re isolated in a sea of solitude without him. You thought it would go away when Choso came back to life because that’s when it really sunk in, but this loneliness is deep and scarred in your bones with the only cure being your brother.

But you can’t live like that, you can’t wait for someone who won’t return, so you lead this change in your society, but the only thing that changed is seeing him standing there watching you.

Doesn’t he understand you're doing this all for him?

——

*10 YEARS LATER*

Dear Dad,

We’ve returned to our beach house in Italy, it’s been a few days since we got here. I’m sorry I haven’t caught up with you lately, life is pretty busy being the eldest of four siblings. It makes me think that Nanako and Mimiko had it easy with me when I was young.

As always I much prefer my time away from Japan, even if it is where I was born, it stopped feeling like home when you died. I didn’t realize that uneasiness until I got older. Plus with the Zen’in bastards demanding to pick up the family title and take the lands from Maki, Mother was pretty busy, it was only until a few weeks ago that she was able to find peace once again.

Now Maki still holds her family title and the lands that belong to her. And don’t worry, Kinji and Kirara stand in my mother's stead while she’s here. With them in Japan, the bastards won’t try to take advantage of her being on vacation. Actually, I don’t think it’s possible that they’ll try anything again, Mother made sure of it.

I only hope I am half the leader she is when it’s my turn to lead. Only two years left. Of course, mother says I can take my time, she doesn’t mind, but I know she’s exhausted, she can’t hide it from me anymore, I’m 16 now. And how could I delay mothers' hard work? She’s paved the way for me to step up and take my rightful place, I’m the future.

Or at least Mother says that’s what our people see when they look at me…if I’m honest I’m quite nervous, I wish you could comfort me.

One day right?

Anyway, speaking of mother, since we’ve gotten to our beach house mother has been lost in her thoughts a lot. She’s been more quiet than usual, she’s usually so happy and relaxed when she’s away from prying eyes and work, but ever since we’ve gotten here it seems like she’s…I don’t know, sad?

Maybe it’s her technique, she says she never regrets giving up her technique to save Choso’s life, but I see her, like I see her now out by the calm shore.

She misses the feel of the water embracing her, and I don’t mean the water we see around us, the small droplets of water not visible to the naked eye. She misses the fire's warmth under her skin, she misses the gentleness of the earth, and the whispers of the breeze. I know she does, I’m looking at her now, standing on the shore, letting the waves unfurl over her feet as she watches the horizon longingly.

I wish I could find something to say to her, like you always did—but then again, there Choso goes to her with little Ryusei in hand, and the moment they meet her at shore she smiles with all the endearment and joy, as if she’d give it all away without a thought just to live to see these moments.

But I still wonder what it is that has her so lost in thought…

Maybe I’ll ask her, what do you think?

Anyway, that's all for now. I’ll talk to you soon.

Love always, Satori

——

*YOU*

When is this loneliness supposed to go away? After ten years, the grief is supposed to turn to just simple memories and deep longing for the ones you lost, but the grief for Satoru still plagues you as if you had just lost him.

Why?

You grieved Suguru and came to peace with his loss. You were able to make peace with the loss of your twins and Kiyoshi. You grieved and moved from all those you lost. Choso, who has a big heart and spent a hundred and fifty years with his brothers was able to move on from his grief, but you can’t move past missing your brother.

You see him everywhere you go, no matter how far. He haunts your mind, and your dreams, and from time to time he plagues your happiness and turns it to ashes in your mouth.

You can be happy, you find your joy in many things, like Choso and all your children; and yes that includes Kirara and Hakari too. So you can be happy, but Satoru has left you living your worst fear. He’s left you alone for all eternity, and no matter how much you want to shake it, that ill feeling stays with you as if it were a part of you.

You do try to find a solution to your solitude, but it’s not in the breeze, or in the warm salt water that washes over your feet. It's not in the warm dancing flames or in the gentle earth. It lies in the grave with him. That’s your lifelong punishment…

You sigh deeply and longly, missing the approaching footsteps hitting the sand because of the waves crashing against shore. You don’t get alerted of the approaching presence until you hear a sweet voice call out to you. “Mama!”

You immediately find a reason to smile and when you turn around there they are like a light at the end of a tunnel, Choso and Ryusei.

“You’re finally awake!” You fawn over your 2-year-old child.

“You looked quite lonely out here,” Choso says as if he can read your mind. “So we thought we’d join you.”

You meet them halfway once they get close to shore and take Ryusei from Choso’s hold.

“You okay?” Choso presses, making your smile falter, but you don’t let Ryusei see it, you keep your smile plastered and that happy gleam in your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m just lost in thought,” you don’t lie since he knows you too well, and he also helps you in your lowest moments. You don’t want to lose that because you want to spare him from knowing your complex feelings; you'll talk to him in the same way he talks with you when it’s just the two of you alone.

“Hm,” Choso comprehends and closes the gap left between him and you to cup your cheek and caress your soft flesh.

“It’s a good thing we came when we did then, hm, Ryu?”

Said boy ignores his father and fiddles with the locket hanging off your neck.

“He hangs out too much with Yuji, don’t you, little one?” You tease him and tickle his belly, making him giggle before he searches the area.

“Uncle Yuji?” Ryusei now asks hopefully.

Choso shakes his head. “He’s not here yet, he’s coming tomorrow,”

Ryusei holds his father's gaze as the gears in his mind turn. He seems to understand the meaning but looks disappointed nonetheless.

“Maybe tonight we sleep outside?” You direct at Choso and bounce your eyebrows.

“Like in the grass?”

You look at him seriously before you snort and break into a lively chuckle. “No, silly, like in a tent. After we have a nice late-night picnic?”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” you nod with a grin. “I want to talk to you.”

Choso blinks and immediately stiffens. “About?” He probes.

You glance at the little boy in your arms and then back at Choso and shoot him a taunting smirk. “You’ll have to wait won’t you?”

Choso sighs and rolls his eyes. “It better be something worthwhile. You always leave me hanging.”

You giggle and lean towards him. “Aw baby, don’t worry,” you tease him. “We’re not breaking up. It’s not that talk.”

“Tsk.”

“Tsk,” Ryusei mocks his father, making both Choso and you look at your son quietly before you can’t help but feed into his habit by laughing. Ryusei laughs along with you but he’s quick to stray away and go limp, like a dead body, meaning he wants to be put down.

He’s so dramatic.

“All right, all right,” you trail off and put him down on the sand, but stay crouched to be at his level.

“Want to put your feet in the water?” You ask as you plant your palm on the sand and let him watch the wave roll over your hand before it gently pulls away.

Ryusei sees that it’s not hurting you so he bends down to mimic you and place his palm on the sand. As the wave takes a second to approach he looks back at Choso cautiously, but your husband shows no fear to reassure the boy.

“It’s okay,” Choso tells him. “It won’t hurt you this time.”

After being shoved back by a rough wave Ryusei has been very cautious about stepping back into the ocean or lake. He likes baths just fine, it’s just these large bodies of water that he’s grown very cautious over, so ever since then you’ve been trying to pull that fear out of him as best as you can without the abilities that once would wow Nanako, Mimiko, and Satori when they were children.

Albeit it's hard, it’s safe to say Ryusei wouldn’t have inherited your elemental technique if those still existed. Perhaps not even blood manipulation, he’s too gentle for it. Maybe something new, but who knows now.

Nevertheless, the wave finally rolls back in, but the moment the water submerges Ryusei’s hand he shrieks and quickly throws himself on you to escape such an evil element.

“Oh,” you coo and stifle your laugh. “It’s okay, the water is a good friend.”

You wrap your arm around him and lean in to press a kiss on his cheek, but Ryusei immediately pulls away as if you’ve done something horrible and wipes away your kiss.

“That’s mean Ryu,” Choso remarks, but the boy ignores him and instead points at his dad, meaning one thing, so you can’t help but flash a flustered smile before you give him what he wants and lean towards Choso to give him a juicy kiss on his lips, making Choso beam at you, and Ryusei giggle and cling onto you.

If this had been Amaterasu when she was Ryusei’s age, she would have smacked you for giving her dad so much affection in front of her. She was very clinging to Choso when she was younger, she still is, but less so because she’s 6 now. “She’s a big girl”, she says—Whatever, Daddy’s girl.

Nonetheless, just as you're thinking of the girl, she comes over running as if your thoughts had summoned her.

“Daddy! Mom! Suki and Tsu are fighting!”

Of course, peace is merely a dream now in your house, and it seems that as the older they get the chaos only gets wilder. But you can’t complain, they’re the reason you smile.

“They listen to you,” Choso immediately tells you as the shouting approaches.

“Yeah because I put my foot down,” you remind him of your stricter ways. “But I don’t think they need me to intervene yet.

“You’ll ground them ma?” Amaterasu immediately searches for strife. “I told them you would, Tsu pulled Suki's hair!”

You and Choso share a knowing look before drifting your focus to Suki and Tsukuyomi approaching whilst they’re in the midst of an argument of whodunit.

“Why do you always act so grown!” Suki shouts after her brother. “You never listen to me, I didn’t do it!”

Baby Ryusei turns to watch his siblings as they get closer with way too much amusement.

“Mom!” Tsukuyomi calls out for you and picks up his pace when he spots you close to the shore. “Mom, Suki—”

“Yeah snitch to mommy, mommas boy,” Suki grumbles with no attempt to actually be discreet, which in turn causes Tsukuyomi to halt dead in his tracks and spin on his heels to let his twin sister come to a skidding stop so he can pull her hair in the blink of an eye.

Ryusei bursts out laughing as if it’s the funniest thing in the world, while Tsukuyomi exclaims at his sister. “Shithead!”

Suki grabs his wrist and doesn’t get discouraged, she snaps back just as fiercely. “Amaterasu said that because it’s true,” she snickers, and the youngest girl lunges towards them to lie and defend herself.

“No, I didn’t! Daddy,” she drags Choso in. “I didn’t say it!”

Choso brushes his bangs back and walks over to break up the fight, you would go but it would just turn into a family brawl so you stay back and watch with slight amusement that might be too provoking in the sensitive situation, but you can’t help it. Besides, Satori walks over to join in the chaos and feeds you the correct intel.

“Suki and Amaterasu read Tsukuyomi’s journal and accidentally made it known by dropping water on some pages.”

Oh, sweet Amaterasu is such a good liar. You can imagine where she inherited such a habit, but you don’t want to even think of him. If Choso was okay with lying, he would tell his kids he and his brothers were gifted to his mother by some divine miracle, but if the kids ask he’s as honest as he can be. He’s too sweet to them, and as much as it bothers you at times, you can’t stay bothered or tell him to change, you love, love! that Choso is such a sweet and caring father, but sometimes it makes you the bad guy because you’re the one that disciplines them, but you don’t mean any harm and they know that when the storm passes. And as long as they do you’re okay with being the stricter parent, all you want is for them to have a sweet Father who isn’t afraid to love them.

You and Choso never had a caring father, so you want them to know a father's love, the same way Satori still cherishes Suguru’s unconditional love.

“Are you okay?” Satori breaks you away from the tension.

“Hm?” You probe in confusion.

Satori brushes her hair behind her ear and swallows back nervously before repeating herself. “Are you okay?”

You’re worried that she perhaps saw you outside wallowing in your solitude, but you’re also caught off guard because as you stare into her dark eyes you fail to see your little girl, she’s so grown up now; so much more mature and aware. It scares you that she’s so big, but you can’t help but be in awe too.

And as much as you want to hide your problems to spare her, you know that because she’s getting older she can bear more than she could when she was a child. So with some hesitance, you actually speak the sad truth. “I just miss Satoru, that's all.”

You briefly hold her gaze and see joy in her eyes because you confided in her, but you also catch pity for you too.

“Well,” she speaks softly. “It’s like Choso says, he lives inside us now, right?”

You sigh deeply and nod stiffly. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s just hard sometimes you know?”

“Hm, yeah I miss my dad all the time,” she says, making you close the gap between you to wrap your arm around her shoulder and pull her into a partial embrace.

Ryusei sees what’s happening and hugs your neck while he watches his father talk to the kids. You watch him too with a smile filled with pride and glee, but you also watch him with impatience because of what you have planned for the two of you later when the house is asleep and you finally have time to yourselves.

With four kids in the house, your time alone isn’t as common, so your escapes to be alone are special, especially the ones you plan because he always likes to beat you to the punch.

Nevertheless, what should’ve been a nice and passionate date outside under the clear night-littered sky, is ruined. Not by your children, but by rain that caught you by surprise and ruined your camping plans.

“Damn it! This sucks!” You whine.

Choso watches the rain fall over the tent and chuckles softly, making you pout.

“I told you it was going to rain today,” he remarks in amusement.

“It smells like rain doesn’t mean a thing,” you mock him and turn away from the back door to try and think of a quick solution that doesn’t involve just returning to your room and doing something there.

“Here,” Choso offers before he speed walks past you to exit the room, but then quickly return with your picnic box that you had pre-boxed while Ryusei ate his dinner.

“As much as I do enjoy a good time in the rain, we are more fragile now,” you remind him as if it hasn’t been a decade since you lost your techniques. “And as much as I do like taking care of you while you’re sick, please don’t do it on purpose.”

Choso shoots you a smirk before setting the box down, and pulling a blanket and candles out without letting your gaze go the entire time. And this time instead of interjecting you excitedly watch him extend the blanket in front of the glass door, and light the candles with a single match.

When he sits down he points to the empty spot across from him and you beam at him with admiration before plopping down and blurt the love you can’t contain. “See,” you whisper so sweetly that honey oozes off your voice. “I needed you.”

Through the candlelight you see Choso’s cheeks grow red the same way they did when you first met.

Even so, however, he doesn’t hold back either, he looks at you with never-ending love and admiration and fills the silence with sweet words. “And I’m glad my 150 years led me to you.”

You gasp softly and hold his gaze, and just like many times before, you see your happiness and the reminder of why you’ll never regret giving away a part of yourself for him. As strong as your technique made you, you love him more. And that will be the same in every lifetime.

You’re happy your life led you to him every day, even with all the bad you endured, you’ll go through it all again just be with him.

Does it sound selfish?

Maybe, but you don’t care.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Don’t you love when the ghosts of the dead haunt the mc’s? I love that trope! Also if Satoru somehow lives in the manga wouldn’t a sequel of this series be cool?

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

[deadwooddross]

Poppin in for the first time in a few months— I’ve been following your art on and off for like two years now, and I just want to say that your art style is still one of my favorite art styles. It’s unique, I love you draw noses/mouths/eyes (gods i love the way you draw mouths and teeth and facial expressions in general, am trying to learn from how you do this because it’s SO GOOD) in a really detailed way while still maintaining stylization, and the grittiness of a lot of your art really inspires me! 

 Also, your armada of trans characters (happy early pride, btw!) are wonderful. Umami in particular is my beloved (to be loved is to be changed indeed, she’s wonderful, and I think about that particular post all the time). Gender stuff’s been funky for me over the past few years, and your peeps have been something of a comfort for me as I figure myself out. Especially because a lot of your characters don’t adhere to strict gender norms— they just exist in their gender, whether that’s dude or woman or nb or something else, and it’s been helping me figure out that I can just exist wherever I’m at, too. I’m not sure if that makes sense, but yeah, it’s appreciated.

I also just really appreciate the diversity in your character designs in general, especially as someone who struggles with variation in character design. I might be rambling here, but even amongst all your fantasy stuff (I’m not quite sure what warhammer is, but you make it look epic), your people just look like they’d be regular people. Like no shade on other artists!, but at the same time, the same anime-esque small nose round/oval face different hair different eyes athletic build for everyone’s favorite characters gets samey after awhile, and i don’t know a lot of people who look like that in real life, y’know? While like your characters like Lyell and human Umami (off the top of my head) and your less obviously fantastical designs in general look like people I could run into while, like, I dunno, grocery shopping or something. They’re unique, but they’re also grounded. It’s definitely something I want to bring to my own art— it makes me feel like I could connect to the character designs more because of it. 

I hope this all made sense, but basically your art is really really cool, and you’re character designs are top notch! wishing you a wonderful Pride and a great rest of your week

I've just been looking at this ask every now and then like :] wahhh, thanks!! it's always nice to get an idea of what it is people See in my art these days, since it just kinda looks 'normal' to me haha. Never really think of it as being all that stylized until I realize oh wait, most people are out here drawing much more reasonably sized mouths, oops, and i love regular people! Truly some of the best inspiration for interesting character designs to me are usually out buying corn nuts and a beer at the gas station and whathaveyou...regular people are great, i recommend jotting down any interesting folks you see as fast as you can, like a monk frantically scribbling down a vision from heaven

[jooniperbonsai]

Thanks for the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Four

Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 19.5k

Release date: June 11, 2024

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn, coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s

Summary: As you spend more time with Seokjin, the threads seem to be even more tangled than before. Memories of the past threaten to ruin everything that the two of you have. Are you sure this is what you really want anyway?

Chapter Warnings (Oh god bear with me in this): angst, miscommunication (sorry sorry sorry we need it for the plot), cursing, alcohol, insecurity and self doubt, sexual harassment online and offline, pet names, fat!reader (we love to see it), sexual fantasies in the form of oral sex/face riding, Seokjin gets hard like 3 times (pretend to be shocked), masturbation, references to menstruation and first time sexual fantasies/masturbation, lingerie, sex toys, boundaries & lack of boundaries, references to poorly written novels (derogatory), verbal abuse from family members, gaslighting

a/n: Hi. I know it's been a while. Thank you for your patience. This week especially has been rough as my family lost one of our pet cats unexpectedly, but I wanted to put my best foot forward and share this chapter with y'all to enjoy our Seokjin's return! I hope you enjoy this chapter and that its length will tide you over. I have a special festa treat planned with another chapter for y'all this week, and I promise it'll have been worth the wait. Enjoy! -h

SpringDay: He didn’t leave a note

Wonu15: Was he supposed to?

SpringDay: No, but…idk

Wonu15: Then why are you upset if that wasn’t in your agreement

SpringDay: IDK!!!!!! Because we talked about things? At least, a little bit? And he saw me cry and he held me. 

Wonu15: But did you ask him to stay the night? Did you ask him to leave you a note? 

SpringDay: No

Wonu15: Well

SpringDay: I know!!!! I get it!!!

Wonu15: Maybe you should tell him

Wonu15: That you’re in love with him

SpringDay: Fuck you

“Ugh!” You exit your chat app and toss your phone across the covers as you roll over in your bed, inhaling the pillow that now smells of Seokjin. 

He was here. Last night. He held you in his lap on your bed. He moved your furniture around for you. He stayed until you fell asleep. And even after that for a bit longer. You’d felt a chill, possibly as he left the bed, and it was enough to wake you. 

It was still dark, but the sun was creeping in slowly. Enough that you could see his slightly mussed hair sticking up in the back, a yawn escaping him with a sigh as he idled in the doorway, almost like he was hesitating before he left. 

If you didn’t know any better, you would think you dreamed it all up, but as soon as you heard the door click shut behind him, you found yourself curling around that warm spot in your sheets and falling back asleep. 

And that’s where you’ve been for most of the day, savoring the feeling of him in your bed or standing in the kitchen slightly hungover as you finished off the rest of last night’s pizza. You’ve apologized to your followers for skipping last night’s stream, promising that you’ll make up for it tonight. 

Your stomach clenches a bit at the idea of an encore performance from the last time you were live. Maybe Seokjin could come over and hang around while you get started? At least for a little bit?

He probably has better things to do than hang around your place. 

True. You had monopolized so much of his time last night, and it didn’t even amount to an actual stream. It’s selfish to assume he has nothing better to do than to sit around and monitor you to make sure you don’t succumb to peer pressure. 

You need to be an adult and do this on your own. 

With a sigh, you hoist yourself up out of bed and over to your computer. Everything you went over yesterday feels like a blur. At this point, you’re not entirely sure what you’re supposed to do. You remember he mentioned something about utilizing wishlists as a monetary solution to some of the more unhinged followers. 

If they have money to spend, let them spend it. But don’t compromise your morals to do so. 

Is that something he encounters often? It has to be. You wonder what streaming was like for Seokjin at first, all the ways he compromised himself for his followers. Is the dominant persona he exudes even authentic? What if he’s more submissive or even plain vanilla and just doing all this for the money? 

You can’t say you’d blame him. That last stream had you feeling as though you were sitting on the blade of a knife as you debated what the extra cut of money could bring you. Your heartbeat pounds more heavily in your chest, a few beats feeling like they’re piercing into your throat. 

It feels awful to know the way money has made you so powerless. And now here you are, about to force yourself onto a stream for some extra bucks in this month’s payout. 

How does Seokjin do it, really? You don’t want to pressure him into talking about it. Not when you two aren’t intimate like that. But you can’t help but wonder why and how streaming, much less streaming sex, doesn’t tear him apart each time. 

You wish you could ask him.  

Your reminder on your phone alerts you and you groan, forcing yourself away from the desktop and into the bathroom to shower. In your hamper, you spot Seokjin’s pink button down that he’d lent you last night. 

It felt like a piece of armor then, shrouding you from the chill of anxiety. Even now, as you lift it up to your nose, that comforting and fresh smell of his detergent begins to settle the sourness of your gut. 

Maybe you could do this alone, after all. Just, with a little encouragement from a friend. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” someone said.

“I am not!” Another voice. A deeper one.

“You asked her if she wanted to fuck!”

“I did not! I asked if she wanted to come over and eat ramyeon! That’s all that it means!”

“No, no hyung, he’s right. That’s not at all what it means.” 

Words. Seokjin was hearing them flurry around him, picking up the tail end of whatever story Namjoon was telling the group. But he wasn’t really listening. He was too tired. He had napped for about an hour in his office earlier, though it was unintentional. He was sitting at his desk, placing a produce order when he felt one of his eyelids shut. Then the other. The next thing he knew, someone was banging on the door saying the register was jammed and they needed the key. 

He had left your apartment late. Right when the sun was beginning to rise. And he probably wouldn’t have even left then if it wasn’t for the fact that you finally had rolled off of him after about an hour of you sleeping heavily on his chest. 

You talk in your sleep, he learned. Not a lot, but in little murmurs, usually yes or no spilling out of your mouth with ease. He was grateful for them, because otherwise he would have fallen asleep with your body slotted against him perfectly, the weight of your head and arm on him just enough to tumble him into a state of safety. 

Both too late and too soon, you moved, rolled onto your other side. And then Seokjin left. 

He debated leaving a note so you would know he wasn’t bailing, going so far as to find a pen and notepad from the kitchen fridge to write on, but then he knocked sense into himself. Notes were for people who left after hookups when unsure whether or not they were welcome to stay the whole night. You’d invited him over, sure, but as friends. You would have of course expected him to leave after you fell asleep, as that was the agreement. Right? 

Seokjin had danced around your living room for ten minutes, pacing back and forth, looking like a crazy detective searching for clues. What would he even say in it? If he left one would you think that he’d expected you guys to have sex? 

So he didn’t, he tossed the notepad on the side table as he grabbed his things, aware now that his button down had gone missing since you changed into your pajamas, but he didn’t have time to look for it, and didn’t want to further snoop through your stuff to reclaim it. 

By the time he left, the sun was up, and he had just enough time to rush the few blocks to work. Besides that nap, he hadn’t slept at all last night. 

And now he was on Jungkook and Taehyung’s couch, a beer magically in his hand that he didn’t remember getting while his friends apparently talked about…ramyeon? 

“–clearly your fault you choose to pretend you’re so old and stay out of touch. Seokjin-hyung knows what that means, don’t you hyung?” 

Who was talking to him? He grunted, hoping whoever it was would let that be enough of an answer. 

“Hyung?” Jungkook. That’s who was talking to him. 

Seokjin blinked. His contacts felt like sandpaper in his eyes. 

“Don’t bother with him. He hasn’t had a single sip of that beer since he got here and has been zoned out staring at that wall for about thirty minutes,” Yoongi said, moving from Seokjin’s periphery into full view. 

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked gently, clearly concerned but also possibly using this moment to help redirect whatever teasing he was facing. 

“Just tired,” Seokjin responded. 

“Oh yeah, you had to work today. And you were at Y/N’s to help her with her stream last night, right? How did that go by the way?” Jimin asked. 

“What stream?” Seokjin asked, confused. And then he remembered. That was the whole point he had gone over there in the first place. 

“Um, you know, the one that you went to her place for?” Jimin’s eyebrows knit together. The rest of the group craned their heads in Seokjin’s direction, curious.

“She, um, she didn’t end up streaming.”

“Then, what time did you leave?” A broken, awkward silence fell over his friends as Seokjin shifted in his seat. 

It suddenly felt oppressively warm in here, and heat creeped up his neck as he tried to string words together. 

“I think like…7?” 

“So you got there, only to turn around and leave? So why didn’t you sleep last night? You look like shit,” Taehyung added unhelpfully. 

Yoongi rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Is everyone really this clueless today or are you all fucking with me?”

He pushed himself up from the beat-up leather armchair, his usual space during their hangouts and sauntered over to the small bar Taehyung and Jungkook had right off the dining area. He took his time, uncapping the bottle of whiskey Seokjin presumed they kept mostly for Yoongi’s benefit, and filled one of the highball glasses left out for him. 

Once Yoongi started drinking whiskey, everyone knew to prepare themselves for an evening of his contemplative and sometimes unfiltered ranting. This was when his self-proclaimed ADHD seemed to shine best. 

“Honestly, you guys still don’t see it do you.” 

“See what exactly?” Seokjin asked, finally awake enough to formulate sentences. 

Yoongi studied his glass for a moment and in a final decision plucked the entire bottle from the bar and brought it back to his group of friends. He groaned as he sat back in the chair, like it was painful to do so on his bones, like he was the age of Seokjin's father and not merely thirty. 

Yoongi knocked back his first glass of the whiskey, smacking his lips afterward. 

In the corner of his eye, Seokjin saw Jimin roll his in annoyance. 

“Can we get to the point?” He asked. 

Yoongi shot him a look, and then placed the glass down on the coffee table. 

“First of all, Taehyung-ah, he didn’t leave early. Hyung here left late. As in this morning. He was obviously out all night.”

Namjoon snorted. “Hyung, this isn’t a detective drama. We all kind of figured.” 

“I didn’t,” Taehyung objected.

“We know,” Namjoon chuckled and turned his attention back to Yoongi. “Ok, oh wise one, what is it that we all seem to be missing?”

Yoongi pouted, but he recovered his dramatic flair. It was something everyone knew to give him the space to perform, the odd pause in his quiet nature usually a sign that he needed attention and didn’t know how to ask. 

“Well, when you put it that way, maybe I won’t say.” A slight smirk cracked through Yoongi’s façade. 

“Did you guys sleep together or something?” Hoseok blurted, which had an immediate rush of blood to Seokjin’s head as he flooded with embarrassment. 

“No! God, no we didn’t!” He didn’t want to mention that yes, technically you slept with him, just not in that way. 

“Pfft, relax. Of course he didn’t. You think this guy will be looking all mopey after he finally gets laid again? No, he’s going to have that stupid dopey grin he always had with…you know,” Yoongi recovered the attention of the room, Soon Yi’s name unsaid but stirring a bit of unease among his friends. Yoongi and her had been particularly close during the period of Seokjin and her dating, having been his roommate for quite some time. He’d learned to weave his life around Soon Yi’s presence, over time warming up to her during the days he returned from class to find her studying on Seokjin’s bed and waiting for him to come home. Since the breakup, he’s always refused to say her name. 

“Ah, the dopey grin, I almost forgot about that.” Jimin’s warm voice filled in the gaps where Yoongi’s sudden coldness cast, sitting himself on the edge of the leather armchair as he plucked the glass of whiskey Yoongi had just poured from his hands and gulped it down. 

Yoongi glared at Jimin, but it faded quickly as Jimin winked back at him. He was clearly trying to lighten the mood, and Yoongi took the bait, softening back into Jimin’s outreached arm that began rubbing circles down his back. 

“I’m right here,” Seokjin said lamely, but his friends ignored him. He put the beer up to his lips and let it flood into his mouth. It was warm. Gross. 

“Do you think he’s going to start doing that thing again where he’s late for everything because he’s too busy having sex with Y/N all the time to manage his time better? Because that was annoying,” Jungkook complained. 

Seokjin spluttered, choking on the beer. “Wh-what?!”

Everyone laughed, including Namjoon, who gave Seokjin a sympathetic look. “I think now that he streams all the time, his time management skills have improved.”

“Besides, it seemed more like it was Soon Yi who was causing that issue. She was chronically late for everything. Is Y/N late for things?” Hoseok added. 

Seokjin blinked. How did this conversation even get to this point? 

“What the fuck is going on?” He asked, exasperated. 

Yoongi chuckled, stepping back into his guiding elder persona with ease. “You’re down bad for Y/N, obviously. We are just trying to be supportive.” 

“I am not!” He argued, the heat of embarrassment now turning into anger. 

“You are too,” Taehyung argued. “I’ve seen you at work with her a few times. You are always staring at her like she’s the most delicious thing you’d ever eat. You want her so bad, hyung.” 

Seokjin glared at Taehyung. “Just because I look at her sometimes doesn’t mean I am in love with her.” 

“Okay Namjoon, I take it back. You’re not a fucking idiot. Or maybe you still are, but Jin-hyung takes the cake as the biggest fucking idiot here.” Hoseok said, a humorless laugh flying from his chest. “Wow. No one said you’re in love with her.”

Seokjin’s face flushed. 

“Aww, don’t be embarrassed hyung!” 

“Yeah, you don’t have to tell us all your secrets.”

“Did you have sex though?”

“Taehyung-ah!”

“What? You’re the one who asked in the first place!” 

“So?”

“So, I know you’re curious too. I want to know which one of his porn star moves he pulled out of hiding. Did he Full Nelson her or was it purely missionary? Nah, nah, he’s too dirty for that. Hyung, did you Full Nelson her?”

“Wait, what’s a Full Nelson?”

“It’s a wrestling move,” Namjoon said.

“It’s a sex thing!”

“No. You’re making that up!”

“Hyung, is that a sex thing?”

“Yah! Shut up!” Yoongi said, and four pairs of eyebrows shot up as Namjoon, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook broke away from their conversation to come back down to Earth. 

Seokjin’s hands were sweaty and he jostled his leg anxiously as his friends composed themselves. 

“Sorry,” Taehyung mumbled. 

Jimin sighed, finally pulling his hand away from Yoongi’s back. 

“Maybe we should let Seokjin-hyung speak,” he suggested, gesturing to his anxious friend. 

Everyone nodded sheepishly. 

Seokjin took a deep breath, not even sure where to begin. 

“Well, I…First of all, Y/N and I really didn’t have sex. She had a panic attack over the possibility of me being gay for some reason. Er, well not me being gay but asking the question. And that seemed to be something for her that opened the floodgates to an entire larger panic attack. So, after I cooked us jeon, we just kinda hung out and ditched the idea of the stream. And then, she did fall asleep on me for a bit.” 

The memory of you this morning flooded his thoughts, how your hair skimming across his arms as you shifted your head gave him goosebumps. Or that your scent had invaded his clothes, his nose, so much so that he could just picture you and the soft, sweet smell would manifest around him. 

“Oh, oh hyung.” 

“Don’t look at me like that!” Seokjin shrieked as Jimin frowned. 

His friends all sat quietly, sipping their drinks. Taehyung awkwardly stood up, stating he needed to use the bathroom before he exited the room. 

“When did it start getting this serious for you?” Namjoon asked. 

Seokjin’s eyebrows knit together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We aren’t serious. We aren’t even together.” 

“He means when did you start having feelings for her hyung? I know we said that none of us were accusing you of being in love with her, but are you sure that it’s just about sex, or friendship, or whatever it is you keep saying it is?”

Love. That word felt like fire in his brain. He couldn’t possibly love you. Not when he barely knew you. Not when he only just stood in your apartment for the first time, saw you asleep on him. What Seokjin knew about love was something faded and dusty, shoved under his bed in an old shoebox and hard to name. It had been so long since he felt the early feelings of life with Soon Yi.

Soon Yi. That was love, wasn’t it? The hot poker of constant chaos, being whisked away from one thing to another with pleasure and delight. Wasn’t that supposed to be what love was? He remembered ripping apart magazines with her in her dorm room to make a large collage that she created from top to bottom. All the colors swirling around them as they shredded page after page and refit together. Things clashed, patterns divided themselves into a kaleidoscope around her room. That was how Soon Yi was. A kaleidoscope of every color Seokjin had ever thought imaginable. 

And she was like that for him too, when she laid underneath him that night, her body wrapped around his in every way imaginable, thrown from the bed to the floor as they christened every surface of that space imaginable. 

With you, things weren’t able to be defined by colors. Instead, all Seokjin knew was that the heaviness and the intensity of first love wasn’t at all how he experienced you. No, you were like a fire that ignited in him, and he knew it. Scorched away every faded bit of that box under the bed and licked your flame along every part of him. 

The way he so easily complied with you last night, despite the fact that he knew it would be bad for you both to be so close. Letting you lie on him while he sat there hard just by breathing in your sweetness. How his body responded like this was some first love despite the fact that it wasn’t, and he found himself changing the rules of his life every single time a sigh left your lips. That couldn’t be love, only fascination, only primal, sexual curiosity. 

He’d admit his crush, but love? There was no way this could be it. 

“No,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m…I’m not in love with her.”

“But–” Jungkook began, but Jimin silenced him with a look. 

“No,” he repeated. “I’m not in love with her. I have a crush. And we’re friends. And yeah, I am really really ‘down bad’ for her like Yoongi said. But it’s not like that.” 

Jungkook rubbed his eyes with the back of his fists, sighing in clear frustration. 

“Alright, hyung,” Jimin said gently. “Alright.” 

Just then, Seokjin’s phone pinged, and his heart plunged right into his stomach. 

You were live? Now? Without him there? 

That wasn’t in your agreement anyway. You agreed to help her stream. You helped her. Now she doesn’t need you. 

That little bit of knowledge felt like a twisted knife, but he ignored it anyway, rapidly tapping the alert on his phone that led him to the app. 

“What’s that about?” Hoseok asked. 

His other friends repeated the question, filling the room with a hum of curiosity. 

“Shut up!” he snapped, clicking the side button to turn up the volume. 

“–and yeah sorry about not streaming last night. Time kind of slipped away from me. But I plan on making it up to you guys, I promise.” Your voice echoed throughout the living room, hushing Seokjin’s friends as they hunched forward to see what was the cause of his sudden irritation. 

“Is that…?” Yoongi began. 

“Yes,” Taehyung said as he waltzed back into the room, patting his damp hands on the back of his pants. “That’s her.” 

“Oh, oh okay I get it now,” Namjoon said. “Leave it to hyung to be down bad for someone who dresses just like him.” 

What? Seokjin squinted at the screen, taking in your appearance: your hair was loosely curled around your face, some juicy pink lip gloss that he knew tasted like strawberries (he’d smelled it on you before) glazing your mouth, and a black lace bustier that was barely being covered by a pink linen button down was peeking out. One that looked exactly like the one he was wearing last night.

“Because that is my shirt,” he replied, dazed. 

“What?” Jimin said, hurling himself across the coffee table and yanking the phone from Seokjin’s hands. 

Jungkook followed behind Jimin, resting his chin on his friend’s shoulder as he squinted at you on the screen. “Can we make it any bigger? I can’t see shit from here.” 

“No!” Seokjin protested, but it was clear he wouldn’t win this argument. 

“Wait, why does she have your shirt?” Yoongi asked as Jimin and Jungkook fumbled with the television setup to cast the stream. 

Seokjin glared at his friend. Hoseok laughed, sliding into the spot next to him and offering him some shrimp chips. 

“Who cares? The better question is why is she wearing it on her live stream over her lingerie?” 

“Ah, true.” 

Yoongi turned to Seokjin expectantly, like he would somehow know the reason. Honestly, he wondered the same. 

You weren’t ready for this. You two had barely covered the basics yesterday. Why were you streaming when the arrangement was between the two of you to do this together? Did you just not want his help anymore? Or did all the talking and your panic attack yesterday make you rethink things?

What if you had really wanted him to leave last night or your emotions got the best of you and you regretted everything? Seokjin could feel the spiral of his thoughts starting to unwind as he tried to figure out what the explanation for this stream was. 

“A-ha! Ok, we got it,” Jimin said as he clicked through the series of menu permissions to cast a larger version of you onto the screen. 

You were reading your comments, lightly gnawing on your lip. Nerves, he realized. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, we can play the same game as last time. We didn’t quite finish, did we?” You said, rolling your neck and flexing your shoulders. As you did, your breasts thrust further toward the camera, plush skin Seokjin dreamt of shoving his face into so many times now fully on display for all his friends. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook said from somewhere in the room. Seokjin had no clue. He couldn’t break his gaze as you giggled at something in your comments. He felt heat head south from his face. 

“Jesus hyung.” Hoseok said. “I don’t know how you get through a workday with her without getting hard.” 

“He doesn’t,” Taehyung added unhelpfully. 

He heard the air behind him shift, before a soft thwack and Taehyung’s responding groan informed him that someone had thrown a pillow at him. 

“Okay, so new rules,” you said.“From now on, if any of you say something super perverted, you’ll be unable to comment until the next stream. I’ll have my mods ban you from commenting. The only way you can get on my good side again and get yourself unbanned during a stream is if you fulfill something off of my wish list I added. You can type #springwishes and see all I’ve put on there. Sound good?” You smirked at your camera, a little bite of confidence spreading through you. 

Seokjin’s chest clenched, a tiny bit of relief washing over him as he saw you get your bearings, the comments spamming that hashtag for the link to your wishlist, which he’d advised you to make as a form of incentive and distraction during moments when you felt overwhelmed. If people were getting into deep waters with a topic, you could always redirect to the wishlist, making it more of a prize for your viewers to partake in versus punishment. 

“Alright, so let’s do this,” you said. “Game on.”

Maybe he was overreacting. In the last hour he and his friends spent intently watching your stream, you seemed to navigate your chat a little more with ease, or at least with redirection. 

Yoongi had nodded off in his chair despite the earth-shattering moans your game was crying out as you tripped different combos. You were getting better at the game, and as you finished another level that gave you the prize of some more very not safe for work photos by your “girls”, a heavy yawn escaped through your lips. 

Maybe you didn’t need his help after all. For what it’s worth, you seemed to be settling in comfortably to your performance aspect of the role, sometimes twirling bits of hair in your fingers, earning yourself half a dozen new subs and a few new things from your wishlist. 

“Wow, we’re making good progress,” you said, reaching for your water bottle and pouting at your screen as you sipped from the straw. 

The comments had become more mild during the game when you were fully immersed. Seokjin had been monitoring them closely, seeing your mod Wonwoo diligently screening spam out of the comments. 

But now that your attention had shifted, they were being flooded once more with people vying for your attention. 

Str3amballzak: Wanna fuk those tits

(Str3amballzak has been banned from the chat room)

Lickemup: sit on my face

(Lickemup has been banned from the chat room)

“And so it begins,” you said sarcastically, sipping more water from your straw as you switched your camera view to just you instead of the game. 

(Str3amballzak has fulfilled wish list item number 7: new streaming headphones)

Str3amballzak: worth it

“You guys are working hard at getting yourself permanently banned,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But thanks I guess.” 

Str3amballzak: ur welcome baby

Str3amballzak: ever do private streams?

“No, I don’t do private streams Mr. Ball Sack. Or Ball Zak? Anyway, do you want to go in time out again?” 

Str3amballzak: fine ill behave. 

Str3amballzak: daddy just wants to spoil u

Str3amballzak: u should put some other toys on that wish list ;) 

Heat flooded Seokjin’s face as he read the chat messages fluttering by. This was going south quickly. 

“Not your baby,” you said with a scoff. “And no thanks daddy. I’m good.”

“God, these dudes are gross. Is this the same kind of comments you get, Seokjin-hyung?” Jungkook asked. 

“At first, kind of. But not much anymore. On occasion someone will try to dom me from the chat, but there’s a tip feature for that,’ he responded, eyebrows furrowed as he studied your face for any discomfort. Annoyance, sure, but you could handle that. His hands still hovered over his phone, ready to intervene in a moment’s notice.  

(Lickemup has fulfilled wishlist item number 3: electric kettle)

Lickemup: something to keep you warm if it’s not my tongue in your pussy 

(Lickemup has been banned from the chat room)

(Lickemup has fulfilled wishlist item number 0: mystery gift)

Lickemup: loophole? 

“Oh,” you said, eyes going wide. “I…I didn’t know that was an option.” 

Seokjin didn’t either. And he certainly didn’t know what a “mystery gift” was. What he did know was that this wishlist would mail you anything without giving away your address. But that meant it could be anything. 

Uh oh. 

User27271: wanna cum on your face 

(User27271 has been banned from the chatroom)

(User27271 has fulfilled wish list item number 0: mystery gift)

User27271: hope you like pet play 

(User27271 has been banned from the chat room)

User8008s: stroking my dick to your pretty face rn

(User8008s has been banned from the chatroom)

(User8008s has fulfilled wish list item number 0: mystery gift)

User8008s: 💦

“Jesus Christ, guys,” you said weakly as the chaos of the loophole began to take over your chat, dozens more accounts flooding the comments to do the work around, plunging into the raunchiest of comments before being banned, then fulfilling some mystery gift before being banned again, this time for good. Seokjin looked at the view counter in the corner. It was rising exponentially. 

He could see how quickly your control was leaving you, the glassiness of your eyes and shakiness of your voice as you fought to reel in your chat leading you toward the verge of a breakdown. 

“Is there any way to turn that feature off?” Jungkook asked helplessly, his eyes wide as another onslaught of cyber attacks began.

“I don’t know, I didn’t even know it had this option,” Seokjin said, his voice tight as he helplessly watched you begin to shrink away from the spotlight he had spent hours with you yesterday practicing to do the exact opposite in. 

You pulled the shirt tighter across your body, and that seemed to spring him into action: you there in his shirt, this chaotic chat undoing the work you’d done in a matter of minutes. Fuck those people. 

“There has to be something we can do,” Jimin said, and Namjoon whipped out his phone, searching up the parameters of the wish list site you had used. 

“Tell her to just have her mods turn the entire feature off in the meantime,” Hoseok said, tapping his foot anxiously. 

Seokjin nodded, typing the message into the chat box. 

JokeJinSeokjin: Turn off your the gifting feature

But his comment was lost in the slew of the chat. He knew there was no way you would see it. 

“She definitely isn’t going to see that!” Taehyung groaned. 

“Call her, hyung. You have her number,” Yoongi said, his voice gravelly from just waking up. 

Right, a phone call. He could do that. 

Seokjin opened his contact list and dialed your number. He knew you kept your phone on silent during your stream, but in a moment of luck, you looked down, where he assumed your phone was at and hastily pressed the accept call button. 

“Hello?” Your voice sounded like a wild echo through the TV; the sound delay was just enough to warp you. 

Seokjin stood and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t even bother turning on the light, something about the isolation away from his friends and the darkness feeling like a comfort, like you two were in your own little world and not being put on blast in front of thousands. 

“Turn off your chat commands. Now,” he ordered. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t know how,” you said, then groaned. “Guys please I don’t want any of this. Get it the fuck together.” You paused. “What do you mean who am I talking to on the phone? It’s none of your goddamn business.” 

“Y/N,” Seokjin warned. You needed to stop engaging. 

“I know! I know, okay?” you snapped, and Seokjin nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. You took a shaky breath after a moment. “Are you watching?”

“I was but I needed my phone to call you so I’m not right now. Why? Is something happening?”

“No it’s just–never mind. I have set myself on away and muted so I can unlink this option. Wonwoo is turning off the chat completely for me.” 

“Good,” he responded and opened a browser window, typing in his query. “Okay I looked it up and you need to click the right toggle in your stream settings and scroll down until you see ‘outside links’ and then–”

“Slower, please!” You said exasperated. 

“You can always turn the whole stream off,” he said gently and you huffed in response. 

You paused for a beat. “I don’t want to. I was fine before this whole thing started. I want to do this.” You sounded like you were on the verge of crying. He knew this meant a lot to you. So much of the first few stream’s success determines your future. He knew this. Saw it happen in his own online presence. If you lost a lot of followers tonight, you’d probably not regain them. And then your payout at the end of the month would be a fraction of what you were receiving. 

“Okay. Yes. Then let’s take a deep breath,” he said, taking a deep breath of his own for you to follow. He heard the soft inhale through the receiver, and smirked. 

“Now let’s get you all set up. See that toggle on the right?” 

You hummed a response. “I think so.” 

“Okay, now go down. You see the external link options?” 

A pause. “Can’t you just do it for me?” You whined and Seokjin laughed. 

“I could but I’m across town at a friend’s house. It would be easy if you do it yourself.” 

He wanted to kick himself for saying that. Because he would be out the door in a heartbeat, would Uber or sprint toward you. But by the time he got there, it would be too late. Too much chaos was happening at once, and this needed to stop now.  

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to keep you—“ 

Seokjin clicked his tongue. “None of that, now. Focus.” 

If he did show up at your house to help, he also knows what would happen next. After the momentary panic was over, you would be pissed that you didn’t handle things on your own. At work, however big the mess, you were always insistent on doing it yourself. Here was no exception. 

After a few clicks he heard a gasp. “Got it!” 

“Good job, princess. You did well.” 

“Oh…thank you. Not without your help though,” you said meekly.

He knew you were running out of time. In a few minutes, you’d be back to kick ass in your stream, and life would go on. So he chose his next few words carefully. 

“I thought you wanted me to be there for your first stream.”

“I..well…I did, but I felt guilty and like I had to stream tonight. I didn’t want to bother you, but it looks like I did that anyway, huh?” 

“You’re not bothering me, ever. You asked for my help with this.” 

“And you did! You helped so much.”

An awkward silence fell between you two as Seokjin thought. He exhaled roughly.  

“So, what now? Are you just trying to get rid of me or something? Did I do something wrong?” His voice shook, the hurt he tried to conceal penetrated through the evenness of his tone. 

“No! No it’s not like that,” you said quickly. “I just, I feel like I had to.”

“Had to what?”

“Stream. I felt bad and like I owed it to them today.”

“Why?”

“I…I don’t know really,” you said softly. “Because I’m desperate for the cash. And that sounds awful I know. But I want to make sure that when summer term comes around, I am ready for it financially. And my parents have been calling me a lot and I just…I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?”

He could hear the edge of your voice as you got more worked up, your last word cracking slightly like you were trying not to cry. 

“No, no I’m not mad, Y/N.” 

“Are you sure? Because I know you are helping and you already are spending time with me and it’s not like you don’t have other things to take care of! Like you had to work this morning and I got a text from Mino saying he caught you asleep in your office snoring. I didn’t tell him it was because of me, but god, if I could get this shit together, your services wouldn’t be necessary.”

“I’m not mad. Really, I think you’re trying to find reasons for me to be mad at you but I’m not. And don’t worry about my sleep schedule. It was one night out. I’m not that old for one night not sleeping in my bed to ruin my entire life.”

You hummed in response. 

“Listen, Y/N, I chose to stay out all night knowing I had to open today. You might be persuasive but you aren’t that good to manipulate me into anything. I was there because I wanted to be there. Okay?”

You hummed again. 

“I need some kind of verbal acknowledgement other than ‘hmm’.”

“Sorry. Okay.” 

“Okay what?”

“I was listening!”

“I know you were, that’s not why I’m asking.”

You sighed. “Fine, okay I am not manipulating you. You wanted to be here.” You paused. “Seokjin?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know if I can go back.. Like, what do I do? I’ve already been gone for ten minutes and Wonwoo is blowing up my texts and…” Your voice broke, and he could hear the quiet sound of you crying. 

“Hey, breathe, princess. It’s okay. You can always just turn your computer off. The people watching were assholes.”

“Not all of them,” you muttered back. “God what is wrong with me?”

Seokjin turned on the light to the bathroom. His clothes were crumpled, heavy circles under his puffy eyes and disheveled hair making him look like some washed up finance guy. Honestly, he looked a lot like how he used to back when he did work in finance. 

“Nothing is wrong with you, and you know it. You’re perfect. A mess, and really bad at remembering to put the pickled radishes back in the fridge when you’re done with them, but that’s still pretty great all things considered.”

He heard a chuckle on the other end. “Yeah, I’m such a winner. Ugh, I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do.” 

“Let me help, then,” he offered.

You took a deep breath. “Okay, what do I do?”

He chuckled. “I’m not going to decide that for you. That’s something you need to figure out. But, I’ll give you a few options. First, you can just shut your computer down completely and not apologize, not explain yourself. Your chat and any good subscribers that you actually want to have around will understand. You’re forgetting that there were thousands of people watching, and the loudest ones were the trolls, but they weren’t the only ones there.

“The other option,” Seokjin cleared his throat. “Is that you can go back out there, finish the stream, leave your comments off, and do what you want to do. I can’t guarantee it’ll be as lucrative but you will at least won’t be engaging with those idiots anyway.”

He let you mull it over, opening the medicine cabinet and rifling through his friends’ things. Eyedrops, god, his eyes were on fire from these contact lenses. He had a pair of glasses in his work bag, but they were a little old and frankly kind of stupid looking. 

“Okay, I think…I think I want to try again. And like you said, I’ll keep the comments off this time.”

“That’s my girl,” Seokjin sighed as he squirted some solution into his burning eyes. Then he paused. “I mean, uh, you know. Good job.” 

You chuckled on the other end. God he really needed to monitor himself better. Something about his conversations with you were becoming less careful by the hour. 

“Thanks, I know what you meant. And thank you again.”

You paused again. “Is there something wrong, Y/N?” Seokjin asked. 

“Well, it’s just. I want to do this, I do. But I’m not. God I don’t know, it's like I’m frozen in place. I just feel like there’s so many things I need you to show me before I get good at this.”

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know. How to be sexy without ruining my career, how to just dust everything off and get back out there. That’s what you do all the time! With uh, with work and everything.”

Seokjin chuckled a little. Dusting things off was hardly something he was good at, but he did know how important it was to get back out there. He wasn’t quite sure what you’d meant in relation to work since that wasn’t really a space for it, but that wasn’t his focus. Instead it was on something else. 

“You…think I’m sexy?”

“Oh, uh…yeah duh. Don’t let it go to your head though, everyone thinks that.”

Seokjin could think of quite a few people who didn’t think that, actually. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll let it slide. And you’re right, it is important to just dust things off and move on. But that’s just one thing that I want to show you. There’s so many other things for you to learn.”

So many things. He felt proud knowing that you were doing this on your own, even after this hiccup; it meant that you were doing exactly what he’d tried to teach you yesterday. Even if you faltered once. It was impressive. And he couldn’t help but think of how much you were going to grow from this experience, how many doors it opened up for you, for both of you to forge a stronger connection. He wanted to show you all sorts of things, not just with streaming, but with him. How after seeing your apartment and couch with a dent in it, he wanted you to create a dent in his couch as you read books from your collection. Or that even in his large chef’s kitchen he had in his luxury apartment, he could stand side-by-side next to you prepping more carrots for other foods. 

Maybe cake this time. And when you inevitably spilled ingredients all over the place like you did at work, globs of cream cheese frosting on your cheeks, he’d laugh and find it endearing as you always were, and try not to think about your tongue doing more naughty things to him as you lick it off of your fingers. How you clearly had a little stubborn bratty streak in you that liked to tease and tempt him, and without a doubt you would spend an extra long and thorough job making sure he had a front row seat to you sucking your fingers into your mouth. Just like how you knew you were sitting in that apartment of yours right now, his pink shirt wrapping around your large perfect tits. What were you wearing on the bottom of that ensemble, even? That bustier that was so goddamn tantalizing. Did it have matching panties? Were you wearing those too? He knew you well enough to know you were probably wearing some kind of jogger bottom since people didn’t get to see your fantastic ass in the camera view. 

Good. That was something Seokjin didn’t have to feel jealous of. They could get their fill of your breasts on this stream, but he knew what that soft tummy looked like, how those strong, thick thighs looked in leggings and joggers and most recently, tiny pajama shorts. Thinking back to last night, the way those hiked up your thighs to your little panty line, how soft the skin looked. Would your thighs be just as soft if they were straddling his head? He could only imagine how delicious they would look after he left little nip-marks on them, suckling the flesh just enough to hear your breathing increase, to get you shifting all needy and antsy as you got more needy and impatient. Just as he would want you so that you would rub that wet pussy right on his face and–

“Are you still there?” you said, and Seokjin’s breath caught in his chest, causing him to cough. 

“Yes, I’m sorry,” he rasped. He heard you chuckle low in response, and fuck. Something about how sexy your voice sounded had his cock throbbing. “I got, uh, distracted. What did you say?”

“Oh….uh, never mind.” You paused. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but your voice flooded through the receiver again. “I don’t want to take you away from your friends any longer. I think I’ve got things for now, but thank you again.”

His heart sank with disappointment that absolutely should not have been there. “Ah, right. Of course. Well, then I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Um, on second thought,” you said suddenly, and his ears pricked up. “Do you…do you think you could come by just in case things get out of hand again? Do you want to? If not it’s okay but––”

“I’ll be over in thirty minutes,” he said eagerly.

Seokjin was already throwing open the bathroom door and barreling down the hall, his friends all shifting from the TV where your away message was cast and onto him. Jimin’s eyebrows raised in question. Taehyung grinned at his friend devilishly, winking and nudging Jungkook. 

“Okay,” you breathed, relieved. “Good.” 

“Good?”

 “Mhmm. See you soon.” Your voice sounded lower, huskier. If there was any ability to think anymore, he would think you were trying to sound sexy and flirty. 

“Yes, okay. See you.” As he hung up, Seokjin felt himself smiling at his phone, his heart feeling a bit fuller, more awake. 

“I’m uh, I’m going to go over there. There’s some stuff she wants me to keep an eye on,” he announced. 

He looked over at his friends. Namjoon attempted some form of polite nodding and understanding, but it quickly broke as everyone else erupted into laughter. 

“Yah! What is it now? Were you guys eavesdropping or something?” 

“We were,” Yoongi said between breaths, “but it wasn’t like you were having a particularly interesting conversation.” He dabbed tears from his eyes. 

“Except the part where you called her princess. Phew you’re whipped.” Hoseok added. 

Seokjin rolled his eyes, reaching down into the couch to find his keys that had been eaten by the cushion upon his arrival. “It just slipped out.”

“Yeah, well, you might want to take a breather before you head out, hyung.” Jungkook avoided eye contact with Seokjin, a blush rushing to his cheeks. 

“And why is that?” Seokjin asked. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Because your Big Dick Daddy boner is so incredibly obvious right now that I’m not sure it’ll be you keeping an eye on Y/N when it’s more likely she’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Seokjin looked down and as if on cue, his dick twitched. He tried to adjust himself. His friends roared around him, even Jimin trading his careful composure in for hilarity as he threw himself to the floor. 

“Fuck you guys.” Seokjin said as he headed toward the door. 

“Not us, but maybe you tonight!” Taehyung called. “I’m sure Y/N will be singing ‘Hey Daddy’ when you walk in!” 

Seokjin was already out the door, but he could hear the first few bars of the Usher song playing, and despite himself, he smiled. 

When Seokjin arrives, you have already explained to your chat that if they want to have any privileges at all, they’ll stop being asshats. That is a boundary you can more easily create, something less wavering than the control needed to essentially domme your chat. 

You’re not a domme. Not even close. 

“Be right back,” you say to your screen, kicking on the away message. You glance at your phone. Only about twenty minutes left until you’re ready to end things. Hopefully not too long to make Seokjin wait. 

“Hey,” you say, opening the door. His dark hair is disheveled, bags under his eyes. He looks like hell. You fight the urge to immediately turn him around and send him back home. 

He’s tired but his smile is still adorable and wide as he steps into the door of your apartment, discarding his shoes. 

“Hi,” he says softly. 

“Thanks for coming. I’m going to wrap my stream up soon, but I was thinking maybe we could debrief after?” 

He nods and plops himself down on your couch like he’s been here dozens of times before, not just once. 

“Yeah, of course. I’ll just be in here if you need me.”

“Are you going to watch the stream?” You ask, suddenly feeling self conscious. It’s one thing if Seokjin watches your stream when you’re not there, but the idea of him seeing you in lingerie and playing some sexy game is kind of intimate. 

You in lingerie and his fucking shirt, that is. 

“Well, I thought about it. It’s probably the only way I can really understand what’s going on in case you need me. I’ve brought my earbuds so you don’t get feedback from the other room or have to hear your own voice delayed. So we should be good.”

The idea of earbuds does sound a little bit more practical and distancing. 

“Okay, yeah. Oh, and um, about your shirt…” Seokjin looks down from your face, scanning your body with his eyes. You feel heat lick over the places his gaze follows, down your collar bone and the curve of your hips and back up to the swell of your breasts that spill over your bustier. This is where his stare hovers for a moment, and it’s almost maddening, like he’s undressing you with his eyes. It stirs something deep in your core, pricking your nipples a bit to start becoming hard. The lace of the bustier is too thick and it’s lined to avoid exposing anything, but it doesn’t matter. 

Seokjin is looking at you like he wants to eat you, and it’s turning you on impossibly fast. 

“Keep it,” he offers after a moment, his eyes flitting away from your chest. His ears are turning slightly red. “It looks good on you.” 

“Thank you.” It’s all you can offer in response. You clasp your hands together in front of you, the soft linen of his shirt skirting around your naked thighs. The shorts you wore to bed last night were all you could find to throw on with this getup that were clean and comfortable enough for a few hours of streaming. They’re a bit too short, but you figured no one on stream would see them. 

You didn’t really consider that Seokjin would see them again, or really ever, and now you’re realizing how much skin you are showing. 

“I’ll uh, get back to it I guess,” you say and Seokjin nods, now appearing more engrossed in setting up his phone with the stream than talking to you about it or paying attention to what you’re wearing, or the lack of it. 

You scoot off to your room, shutting the door quietly behind you and sinking down into your chair. 

You hit the settings for the away message to turn off and unmute. 

“Alright, we are winding down for the night. Thanks to everyone who stayed with me to the end, I appreciate it.” 

Your comment section responds in kind, with thanks for you continuing to stream through the chaos. 

“Before I leave, though. I figured we can play a few more levels of the game. We have to make sure Candy has enough magic wands to unlock the special bonus game. Although, can I just say that picking wands was a weird choice? Don’t you normally just need one to get the job done? Why not something else, like different shaped dildos or something. Honestly, a little more variety in size and shape can’t hurt.” 

After a few seconds of delay, you hear a boom of laughter in the living room. His laughter is infectious, and it blooms a large grin on your face. 

“So here’s the plan. I’m going to unlock this bonus level tonight and then we’ll see what the hype is about during the next stream, okay?” 

The chat has calmed itself, and you’re glad you tested having it turned back on instead of totally following Seokjin’s advice earlier. Maybe his streams still function if he doesn’t have his comments on, but you know most of your royalties are given from moments of engagement; your parasocial relationship with your subscribers is based on more conversation than the actual thing you’re doing. It’s how you’ve gotten this far without being good at video games. No one seems to care when you get stuck on the same level each time if you at least have engaging conversation. 

JokeJinSeokjin: I’m hungry. Do you want me to order jjajangmyeon?   

You smirk at your screen and nod, then answer a few questions your chat has initiated. 

“Why did I decide to do a Late Night stream? I needed to change things up. You guys all started to follow me after Wonwoo’s stream and I feel like there’s only so many games I can play with the same kind of commentary before we all get sick of it.”

JokeJinSeokjin: What about mandu? The delivery minimum is way too high so we need to get something else. 

A chuckle leaves your lips and you nod again, redirecting yourself to the chat once more. Someone asks how you’re feeling about continuing streaming in this way. 

“Uhh, I would say that most of the streams so far have been a little crazy, right? It’s…doing this is hard. I’m hoping the more I do it the more things will start to chill out. I’m sorry to anyone who was offended by the comment section earlier. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand.”

JokeJinSeokjin: Food is ordered. Will be here in 30. 😋

Springin2Luv: @ JokeJinSeokjin who are you? I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend S.D.?

Your face heats as you prepare for the onslaught of drama this will cause, but then you’re shockingly surprised at Seokjin’s response. 

JokeJinSeokjin: Just a good friend to make sure S.D. is fed and for another stream. 

JokeJinSeokjin: Anyway 28 minutes until food time so hurry up and finish this level!

You laugh. “Well, you heard the man, let’s get back to the game.” 

Twenty eight minutes later exactly, Seokjin knocks on your door. “The food is here! I’m starving. Are you done yet?” 

You put the game on pause. “If you were watching the stream like you said you were, you would know that I’m not done with this level and am in fact stuck.” 

“Well excuse me for not staring intently and absorbing every detail when I’m this hungry. I’m going to open everything and eat it all before you!” 

“Go right ahead! You’re the one who wanted it so badly,” you call back, teasing. Though the second you finish the sentence, the warm smell of the crispy dumplings wafts into your room, Seokjin lightly creaking the door open and fanning the delivery bowl in your direction. 

He raises an eyebrow, challenging you as he takes one bite into one, mocking before his face contorts into pain. 

“Aish!!! It’s fucking HOT,” he yelps, and he drops the remaining dumpling back into the bowl, some of the green stuffing spilling throughout. 

“Well yeah, what did you expect!?”

“Not for it to be so goddamn burning hot!” He fans his tongue for good measure, and you can see even from your desk the slight red tinge some of his taste buds have taken. 

“There’s ice in the freezer. I’ll wrap this up now,” you sigh and shoo him away before turning back to your screen. “Well, you all probably heard that exchange, so I’m going to pause here. Sorry we didn’t get to beat it, but I’ll try again next time.”

You read over some of your farewell comments from your chat. But one really sticks with you. 

Babybibi: I feel like I know that voice from somewhere. 

Your stomach drops, but you remain composed, pretending you don’t recognize the comment. It never dawned on you that Seokjin’s fans could really be anywhere. Does he realize that? Is that why he safely stayed out of the camera’s reach? You’re not sure. 

By the time you have signed off, Seokjin has managed to plate both of your meals and get you drinks from the fridge. He’s plopped a throw pillow onto the floor to sit on at the beat up coffee table so you can sit in your regular couch spot. 

“I learned my lesson with that couch yesterday. It eats people.” 

“Oh yeah yeah, I know. Thank you, this looks great.” You blow on one of the mandu before popping into your mouth. Even after arriving ten minutes ago, it’s still crisp and hot. Meaning however hot it was for Seokjin must have been volcanic. “How’s your tongue?”

He pouts, sloshing some ice water around in his mouth before opening it to stick out his pink tongue. “It hawtsth,” he says with his tongue still lolled out. 

You chuckle. “Oh poor baby, do I need to kiss it and make it all better?” 

Seokjin shifts a little at the question, and you realize immediately the error in what you’ve just suggested. An image of the two of you drums up in your mind, you sucking each other’s tongues, an ice cube swapping from one mouth to the other as it melts. Nothing about this is even intimate; it’s just pure filth. And based on the matching redness in Seokjin’s ears, it’s clear his brain has gone somewhere similar. 

He finally rolls his tongue back between his plush lips and you sit awkwardly, suddenly unable to remember how to function. 

Seokjin makes the move to end the awkward pause, taking his chopsticks into his grasp and pulling out a large glob of noodles, shoveling it into his mouth. 

Right, food. Your stomach gurgles at the prospect and Seokjin raises an eyebrow at you as he chews, his eyes flashing down to your stomach. 

“Eat,” he instructs, so you do, following his commands to finish your dumpling and move on to your generous pile of noodles. 

How is he able to just push past the awkward and not have it freeze him in place the way it does with you? As you slurp your food down, you can’t help but study him, so effortlessly comfortable to sit in silence in your apartment after playing games about sex workers. 

You shouldn’t be surprised, you guess. Because Seokjin is a sex worker. He’s incredibly nonchalant about all of what you’re doing, no judgment to smudge this dynamic. 

If your old friends, or even your parents knew about you doing this, what would they think? 

Nothing good, you assume. 

It’s not that you were raised in an environment that was all helplessly ignorant about sex and bodies. You’d had sex. Your parents sat you down when you had your first period and explained every single detail about the human body and reproduction to you. It was painful and scientific, so divorced from the intimacy of what sex really is that it didn’t present itself to be much of an interest or issue until, well, you felt the first licks of desire. 

Those started as dreams. Ones where you would be heavily kissing and exploring the body of whoever you were crushing on at the time. The first one started with Wonwoo, after having spent all summer at the library memorizing the thin curve of his upper lips as he squinted to read the books in front of him. You would feel the heat of your core shifting you in your chair as you grew more intrigued, more curious about how his lips would feel on yours, what he would taste like. How his soft hands would feel if he actually held yours, not just the accidental brush when you would walk side-by-side back toward your neighborhood, where you would drop him off at the shop before slugging your way back through that sticky, angry heat that only added more to your discomfort. 

That was the first summer you started masturbating. And it was so awkward in some ways, trying to learn what you liked and how you liked it but also wondering why you liked it, why you liked Wonwoo in a way that was no longer so innocent and picturesque but scarier, more real. 

Your parents caught you, probably as every parent does at some point and just pretends they didn’t notice. Yours, however, made it clear that they knew. And while they never said anything beyond mentioning it once or twice, it felt humiliating. As if you were supposed to be above attraction and sex and pleasure. It was more in how your parents acted after this point that has given you enough insight to imagine how they would react if they knew what you did now. 

No direct words spoken, just blank, glaring looks and sneers. Just them ogling you like you had told them you murdered someone. Shame, in all the nooks and crannies of what it is. 

As for your friends, besides Wonwoo, they’ve all moved on. You had been so curious as a teenager, and wanted to know so much more. Yet, no one ever talked about sex. Some of them had dated through teen years. All of them dated someone in college except you. Sex was happening all around you and yet it was some forbidden topic. Even with Wonwoo after a while. You have a feeling you would have a next to near impossible time explaining what you are doing to those friends, and if Wonwoo wasn’t a streamer, you’re sure he wouldn’t fully get it either. 

But Seokjin understands. This is his life, this is so natural to him that he can sit in front of you after a long day and lazily smile with the knowledge that you are wearing lingerie underneath his shirt. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asks thoughtfully, and you blink, realizing that for the last few minutes you’ve been watching his gorgeous full lips, studying how his tongue peeks out to wipe away some of the sauce. 

“Lips,” you answer in your haze. 

“Ah,” he chides, and you blink away the memory. 

“What?” You ask. 

“Well, my lips are some of the best of them.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Given how long you were staring at me, I would bet that you were thinking they are. Don’t worry Y/N, go right ahead and get a good look.” He winks. 

“You’re so full of yourself.” 

“Well, at least I’m full of something. I haven’t seen you take more than a few bites of food. Quit stalling and eat your damn dinner.”

“You know, you’re pretty bossy.”

“I guess that’s why I’m the boss.” 

“Time and place. This isn’t the restaurant. Maybe it’s my house and I call the shots.”

He gestures around. “Well then, by all means. What are your commands.”

“For you to stop being a tool.”

Seokjin cackles. “Oh, that’s an insult I haven’t heard since middle school.”

“Well, is it any less efficient? I think it serves its purpose.” 

“I think you’re still stalling.” 

“Fine!” 

You twirl a large pile of noodles around your chopsticks and shovel them into your mouth. “Thewere. Hawppy?”

“Immensely so,” Seokjin says, his eyes twinkling. 

You don’t have the fight in you to argue anymore. The warm, savory noodles are so chewy and delicious, and the salt on your tongue is reminding you how deplenished you are from the energy of the stream. 

You eat in silence, until the heaviness of your limbs has scattered to mostly just the heaviness of your full stomach. 

You lean back against the sofa on your final chew, groaning when you’ve finished. 

“Ugh, that was so good.”

“I told you. I’m a genius for suggesting it.”

“You got lucky and picked the best place in this neighborhood.”

Seokjin scoffs. “Excuse you. Might I remind you of a humble restaurant that is also technically in this neighborhood?”

“And does this place serve jajjangmyeon at one a.m. on a weekday?”

“No.”

“Then my point still stands,” you say. 

Seokjin sighs and then follows up with a yawn that you can’t help but catch. 

“So, debrief time. Before either of us fall asleep.”

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You can go home and rest. I can’t imagine you got much sleep today.”

“Hardly any at all, but you can’t get rid of me so easily.” Seokjin smirks. “Let’s talk about the stream.” 

“Well, you caught most of it.” 

“Yes, and I think it’s worth talking about.” 

You mull it over for a minute, how you felt as the onslaught of gifted sex toys seemed to flood the chat, the overwhelm not really of the thing itself but the assertion over a boundary you were trying to place. Why was this so hard for you to do? 

“I think I still feel so much like an imposter. I don’t know a lot about gaming, but I’m gaming. I’m not at all sexy enough to have a stream that does sexy stuff, so I feel like I’m just…” You shrug. 

He opens his mouth, but then stops himself, nodding for you to finish. 

“I don’t know, I just don’t want to fall for the pressure of being what everyone wants me to be. Which is, this role of the fat funny streamer. Like, every single trope in fiction has the side friend be fat and funny as some comedic relief. And because people wanted me to stream because I was so ‘funny’. Or they just see me as something to fuck because if I’m not completely sexless I have to be basically a pocket pussy for someone. All so I can make money. It’s so fucked.”

“But…you aren’t just a character in fiction, Y/N.” Seokjin reaches across the table, grazing his thumb over the back of your pinky knuckle. “You’re real. You feel things. You feel this, don’t you?”

You nod. 

“So if this is the choice, to keep streaming for some financial goal, then who is it you want to be? You’re sure of what you don’t want, which is a good place to start. But what next? You have a choice.”

You pause. You have a choice. 

In all of this, has it ever really felt that way? From the start, streaming was so rooted in financial stability. And because of that, it’s been so much heavier when you are forced into a performer role that you don’t want to partake in. It never occurred to you that you could actually control any of it.

But you suppose that’s what Seokjin does when he streams. He gives his audience some version of himself that he has a say in, control over. 

“I…I guess I don’t know. I have never really thought about this being a choice.”

He nods, then stands, stretching his arms over his head. “Maybe that’s where you start. Trying to figure out who it is you want to be. And owning her. Whoever she is. Whether she wants to be funny or sexy or a combination of the two. If she wants to give up streaming and find another thing, or go full steam ahead and become the top streamer on the internet. You get to decide.” 

After dinner–and trying not to stare at your breasts– Seokjin helped you wash the dishes, talked a bit more about your plans for the next stream, and then he left. He knew he was risking another impromptu sleepover and after your debrief, he wanted to make sure you had the space you needed to sit with the idea of choosing this for yourself. 

He knew all too well how important that was. Two years ago, in the same position, it was something he also had to decide: which parts of him stayed with him when he streamed and which parts he hid so he could keep them for himself. It wasn’t an easy choice. He still felt it creep up sometimes when he streamed, constantly vigilant of the words leaving his mouth so he didn’t ever give too much away.

Even when his friends were in the chat, he tried to not call attention to them by name. Similar to how you were on your stream. He wished he could be honest with you and tell you that this part never gets easier. Regardless of how much you wanted to share with others, there was the unfortunate reality that in order to maintain any sense of discretion and honor on the worldwide web, regardless of the type of streaming, the boundary between you and your audience would always lead to disconnection and loneliness. Conversely, you also were not ever going to be totally private and anonymous again. At some point, there was a tipping point where you would never again just be you. The digital footprint was permanent. 

And in this limbo, as time moved on and winter finally melted into Spring, the pressure was on for Seokjin. He considered telling you that he was a sex cam streamer. He had felt it on the tip of his tongue that night, but in the many nights that have since followed, fighting against the decision to just tell you so you could move through it and potentially build a more realistic and relatable plan based on his own experiences and the potential betrayal you might have felt when you learned of the ways he wasn’t at all morally superior for doing things for money. Would you judge him for wanting better for you? 

Moreover, would you be able to live with knowing that your friend–your boss– did gay sex streams? It just felt too delicate at this point to bring up, so Seokjin shoved it down inside of him, just like he did with his audience every time he hit the countdown to go live. 

And unfortunately, in the last few months he’d only streamed a handful of times, which resulted in a significant decrease in engagement and therefore, income. 

But between working at the restaurant and then coming over to sit in the other room as you streamed, his time was limited. 

He was tired. You streamed late into the early hours of the morning, and unlike him, you didn’t work full time. On the days you did have the early shift in the morning, you somehow seemed rested, clearly used to the chaotic structure of your regular gaming streams that might have occurred the night before. You’d decided to do a brief pause on late night themed streams until you had a better game plan. And to the surprise of both you and Seokjin, your followers were supportive. So you would stream regular games in the late night slots on occasion, and Seokjin would sit on as an honorary mod despite the exhaustion. Granted, those nights you often fell asleep before Seokjin had even left your apartment, and he would gently nudge you awake as you drifted off on the couch, prodding you to go take off your makeup and looking on fondly as you thanked him sleepily before crashing on your bed. 

One day in early May, though, everything that was delicately woven into the balance of things began fraying at the edges. 

Seokjin had woken up to a grateful text from you thanking him for coming over the night before, and had sent a follow up invitation. 

You 7:59AM: You can say no, but do you maybe want to go get dinner tonight when you’re done with work? 

Seokjin 8:00AM: Of course I’m going to say yes. Any suggestions where?

You 8:15AM: What about that restaurant that you told me about?

Seokjin 8:17AM: The Mediterranean one? With a month-long waitlist? 

You 8:18AM: Shit. I forgot about that. 😓

Seokjin 8:19AM: Wait a second. BRB

Seokjin 8:32AM: Ok I got a reservation for 10:30. I know that’s pretty late but that’s all I could get. Kitchen closes at midnight though so we should be fine.

You 8:32AM: HOW???

Seokjin 8:32AM: Head chef went to school with my brother. 

Seokjin 8:33AM: They weren’t that close. If they were, we would probably have an earlier time.

You 8:33AM: I don’t care! I’ll just eat before I go. It’ll be a fourth meal type of situation

Seokjin 8:35AM: We can also go somewhere else

You 8:36AM: NO. 😡 Do not take this away from me. I already decided what I want from the menu. We are going. 

Seokjin 8:37AM: LOL. Ok. I’ll come get you before? 10?

You 8:38AM: 👍

Seokjin smiled to himself, finally getting himself out of bed and ready for the day. He had a lot of work to do. When he opened his emails to get started, he saw an email from Worldwide Handsome. He opened it, his stomach sinking as he processed the words. 

Dear User Jin,  We at Worldwide Handsome appreciate the streams you have trusted us to host for the last two years. In this last financial quarter, we have successfully increased our outreach to new targeted consumers, both from members of the LGBTQ community and their allies. In part, we have you to thank for this success. Your continued participation in WWH’s Partnership program has taken us to new heights for pleasurable camming and stimulation experiences. Among our competitors, we have maintained our position as one of the top pornographic live cam websites, with your stream being one of the most engaged with to-date.  However, in the last two months, the algorithmic engagement of WWH’s live shows has significantly plummeted. In conducting market research, we found that in this quarter, we have had a staggering 11% decrease in consistent viewership, subscription renewal, and ad revenue. While there are many contributing factors, it has come to our attention that one overlapping factor might be one of the major contributing factors to this financial loss. In most of our data, it was User Jin’s channel that demonstrated the largest risk among our partners, primarily due to your lack of consistent streaming over the last few months.  While we are grateful for your continued dedication to Worldwide Handsome, we regret to inform you that should your channel continue to trend downward in market data over the next 30 days, we will terminate your contract with us as Partner. If this should happen, we still welcome you to continue utilizing the basic features of Worldwide Handsome. You will still retain a generous commission rate, the ability to publish past livestreams to your channel, stream clipping functions, gifting, and more. If you would like to learn more details about the basic features provided with Worldwide Handsome, please visit the FAQ page on our website.  Once again, we are grateful for your ongoing support over the years. We at WWH are grateful to you and the many other streamers who continue to make sex a global artform that we can proudly stand behind. If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to reach out.   Sincerely,  Worldwide Handsome Partners

Dropped from the partner program? His partnership with the website was what provided the groundwork for any sort of financial stability while streaming. It not only provided consistent scheduled payouts, but the commission retention was one of the highest in the industry. People were desperate to be part of the partner program, even if it belonged within the confines of gay sex streaming. And until this quarter, Seokjin had been leading the trend, securing his place within the company. But now, because of his neglect, it was being threatened out from under him. 

On top of it, the money pit of the restaurant was at it again; a sewer line bursting a few blocks away had caused flooding and an electrical malfunction a month ago, which resulted in a transformer blowing and frying his computer with all the records. His parents had been tech savvy enough to digitize everything, but clearly not enough to have learned to back up things onto the cloud instead of leaving them on the harddrive. 

For the last few weeks, he’d been shuffling documents back and forth between his laptop and the new system, begging his father to learn how to sign a PDF through some YouTube tutorial that only resulted in his father taking a fuzzy picture of the document in a poorly lit hallway of the cruise ship and sending it back over this morning with a text: 

Here you go! Hope this is okay. Probably won’t have a connection for a while. Talk next week. 

It was not in fact okay, and Seokjin was now considering just forging his father’s signature to get the new insurance forms authorized as soon as possible. The financial burden of what the restaurant was doing was starting to feel more like damnation and less of an investment. With each week drawing nearer to his parents' return, he began worrying that they wouldn’t be able to handle all the things that had become urgent needs.

He had a month to get it together. Otherwise, he could kiss both of his careers goodbye. With his father just adding to the slew of problems, today he was at his wit’s end. He was beyond stressed and in desperate need of release. 

Which is why when he logged onto Worldwide Handsome after a particularly frustrating call with the electrical company, he found himself falling naturally into his old persona easily. 

“I needed this,” he said to his audience, watching the bottom of the screen as the numbers slowly trickled in. It wasn’t nearly as many people as he had gotten accustomed to seeing you entertaining during your stream nights, and for some reason that felt intimidating to Seokjin. How you were able to secure an audience without needing to get naked, one that was flexible with you in ways that his audience could never be. He felt a tinge of jealousy at the thought. 

BGood4Daddy: Missed u pretty boy

He watched the comments flit by, many of them taking on the same sub-dom dynamic he usually played as. Some asked where he’d been, but most of them were just horny messages begging for him to act out their fantasies. 

His stomach twisted. Somehow he’d forgotten this was how things went. 

“Missed you too. Missed all of you. It’s been crazy lately,” he said. He palmed himself casually through his slacks, trying to convince himself to get into the mood. 

The tips started to slowly trickle in, starting to meet the bare minimum goals for Seokjin to begin stripping. 

That’s one thing about his audience he’d always be able to count on. They would always ensure that he had enough of a payout to take his cock out. 

He chuckled at the comments, starting to wind up as he removed his shirt, and then unzipped his slacks. 

XMasterX: you’ve been a bad boy. Sir needs to punish you for leaving us for so long. 

“Is that right?” Seokjin challenged. “Well, then if I’m just going to be punished, maybe it’ll be better if I leave.” 

The threat had the desired effect; Seokjin’s tip jar began to fill up faster, the view count starting to increase back to a somewhat decent viewership. 

Good. This was good. Soon he could get all of this over with and secure himself back into good standing with the website and his subscribers. 

Within a few minutes, the tip jar announced that the first two milestones have been unlocked: take off shirt and take off pants. 

“Eager are we?” he teased, slowly slipping his shirt over his head. He’d managed to get back to the gym in his apartment complex this week, but even if he hadn’t, it’s not like he wasn’t still toned from all the heavy lifting at the restaurant. With all the electrical issues, he’d been helping pull industrial heavy equipment away from the walls for the electrician to prepare to install a new grounding wire, and those weren’t particularly light. 

The comments lit up with the praise, usernames old and new beginning to flash across his screen. He smirked.

“I know you’ve waited a while, but maybe you should sweat it out a bit. Show me how much you missed me.” 

It felt so natural to say this, something he knew you hadn’t felt comfortable doing in your streams, but you’d tried a few times. He’d found it cute when you’d done it, almost like it was a gentle request. But for him now, this was about anticipation and tension, letting his viewers fall back into the world of fantasy he used to cook up every few days. This was a place of escape, where Seokjin was left behind and Jin took control. 

The tip jar shook, the animated coins piling in. 

He popped the button of his pants. Slowly. He smirked at the camera, reaching down and squeezing himself. He wasn’t hard, but he wasn’t small, and that was still part of the fantasy: the grand reveal that people had to work for. He often chose to work under the assumption that everyone was new in the chat, that this was a new experience for voyeuristic eyes. While he knew that wasn’t necessarily true, for all he knew someone could be stumbling into the chat room, unknowing to his body and the pleasure he was so willing to give. 

Someone like you. 

His cock twitched at that. He’d expected this fantasy to get a bit old for him: the idea that you would come across his stream and stay for the whole thing. It had been the fuel for his fire a few months ago, but so much had changed now that you were friends. 

But now that he knew more about you, all the little details, fuck. That just made it seem even more real. He could see you in your small room, his shirt draped over you safely while you strutted around in those tiny pajama shorts. 

He unzipped his pants, kicking them off at the ankles and sitting back down in the chair. 

You’d be doing the same thing, he thought. Those shorts riding up those thick thighs he now knew exactly the weight of as they’d rubbed against his. They were so soft, all of you so soft. And he knew you’d shove them down quickly, annoyed that they got in your way, pouting a little bit that he wasn’t there to tug them off of you. 

“Fuck,” Seokjin said. “I don’t know if I can really take it much longer.” It was true, his cock was hardening quickly, and the need to touch himself was growing heavier with urgency. 

His chat sounded off, various commands to wait or to go for it. It really didn’t matter. He wasn’t there for them tonight. Even though maybe he should have been, maybe the risk was that if he didn’t comply, there would be no great reward. 

mapl3stor33 tipped $3000: Welcome back. Give us a good one. You can always pay us back for it 😉

Seokjin smiled, his most loyal subscriber popping up with a generous tip. Yes, this was where he thrived, wasn’t it? Isn’t this what he was good for? 

2 milestones unlocked from another viewer, this time selecting from some of the few dozens of options programmed into the menu to help guide the stream: cock ring and edging, no cumming. 

God, why did he allow for there to be guided sessions? Why didn’t he lead the stream this time like the one he did a few months ago? That was the one where he’d cum all over himself after pretending to blindfold you. 

Now, he knew even more about you, how the curve of your ass felt shifting against him. How soft your hair was when it tickled his arms while you slept, little whimpers escaping your mouth that he knew he could easily draw from you again when he got the chance. You’d look so pretty with a blindfold on, shivering in the warm light of your bedroom, mouth open and desperate as he lightly touched around your collarbone, down your sternum and between the valley of your tits. You’d been so bad about teasing him in those sexy little bustiers and corsets lately, and it would be nice if he got to tease you for once. 

His cock ached through his briefs, asking him to end the torture, to free himself into the open air and stroke until he came thinking about all the ways he wanted to torture you with pleasure. 

But with another tip coming in, this time adding the detail of a vibrating cock ring, Seokjin knew his fantasies would not be leading him to be satisfied tonight. At least not in the way he wanted. 

Twenty minutes later, after playing into the game of begging and whining and falsely pretending he was going to cum to ensure he was edging, he came. A pathetic, unsatisfying dribble that wept out of him and hardly amounted to the sensation he felt earlier. He’d tried to think of you, but there was a block. Too many people watching, too many people demanding things from him. Instead of just cumming, it became aware to Seokjin how much of a performance these streams always were; the ring light setup ensured people could see every angle. He knew how to make attractive faces when he orgasmed that would leave everyone with plenty of imagery for their own personal fantasies later. He knew how to pretend to be more turned on than he was, and to force vibrators and dildos into proper angles to ensure he came. It was all part of the show. 

One that he hadn’t taken part in for quite some time. When he masturbated last night in the shower, he caught his reflection in the vanity mirror. He saw how his face contorted, how his body would buck and writhe without his control as he came against the shower wall, how in some ways, there was something objectively unsexy about how he came, no glossy angles to make sure his chin didn’t pull into different skin pockets, no ambient lighting to capture the ridges of his body. Just the pure experience of orgasming as a human being and nothing more. 

As he wiped up his mess, he decided to do a little chat with his subscribers. 

At least he didn’t moan that one person’s name like last time. 

Oh yeah. Jin what was that about? You have some girlfriend we don’t know about?

I thought he was gay. This is a gay site! 

You must be new here. He’s straight. 

Oh :( 

Maybe he’s been too busy fucking her to come play with us. 

I bet it’s boring sex. Who needs to do streams when they’re getting laid. You better tell her to satisfy you, or one of us will have to come show her how she could do better. 

“Yah, enough of that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t have a girlfriend. And I don’t want to talk about what happened that one time. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again. Anyway, I’m tired. Time for bed. I won’t make you wait as long for next time. Bye!” 

Ugh. What an awful stream. If it was going to be like this all the time, maybe he should have actually considered letting the website shut him down and take the cut. 

But then how would you get everything taken care of with the restaurant. 

He sighed. Is this how you experienced streaming too? He figured as much. His stomach tugged, disappointed he couldn’t talk to you about it. You always debriefed your streams with him, especially if you felt a little shitty during one. Now, because he was keeping this life of his separate from his life with you, he had no one who would understand to talk to about this. All he could ever do is provide support to you, but not you to him. It was still just as lonely doing this as it always had been. Only this time, Seokjin knew that it didn’t have to be this way. That some people could reveal other parts of themselves to get kernels of support when needed. 

But that wasn’t going to be him. He was alone in this. And as he dragged himself to bed, feeling sorry for himself, he didn’t notice that he left his phone on silent.

“Detective? Are you there?” The svelte redhead approached my desk. I could see through the cameras that she helped herself to snooping around. Whatever she was gathering from my notebooks, it was a trap. 

Any good detective knows not to leave his mess around. Any clues she was trying to gather from this dark, dark world, they would be nothing compared to reality. 

Reality is darker. Betrayal, people thinking they know me because they know my past. 

I light a cigarette, inhaling deeply. The smoke swirls around my head like a cloud. It’s cloudy here in Seattle, and that promise of heavy rain reassures me. He’s going to try to move the kitty tonight, and I’m not about to let him use her as a distraction. 

She leans her large, milky tits over my desk. She’d look good there, spread out across it. I’m sure she knows too. Any dame like her would know what she’s worth. A tempting distraction, but I am too good to fall for it. 

“God what the fuck even is this?” You exit out of the screen on your tablet, the cover mocking you for even considering it. Whatever the hell you were expecting from Clues to My Heart’s raving 5-star reviews, this wasn’t it. This was a pile of absolute garbage. 

And it isn’t serving its purpose of distraction. You are still imagining the main character as Seokjin, only Seokjin in some twisted, fake machismo, desk set smutty nightmare of a book that is so full of plot holes and clichés that you know you can’t stomach it further. Reading an awful romance novel is clearly not the answer to escaping the awful feeling in your stomach. 

You delete it from your library and sigh, staring at the shelves of your apartment, debating if you really want to read something or just go to bed and let yourself cry. 

He stood you up. He stood you up and you looked the hottest you ever looked. This was going to be your attempt at connection, at knowing for sure that you were on the path toward something more intimate than friendship. 

But now, it was clear: whatever expectation you had for the two of you, it might as well be dead and buried with whatever body this stupid book is trying to solve the murder of. 

You tried calling him multiple times. His phone just rang on and on as the clock shifted from 10:15 to 10:30 to 12:00. For a moment, you thought maybe you got the date or time wrong. Maybe instead of tonight as in today he thought you meant tomorrow? 

Or maybe he lost track of time by finding a dog outside of your apartment, and then he had to go find its owner so he never had the chance to tell you he’d be late. 

But more realistically, maybe he just doesn’t want to see you and this silence is meant to be interpreted as a boundary. Seokjin is definitely the type who would feel bad rejecting you when you come onto him, and would apologize to you despite the fact that he’s not guilty. It’s happened before, in the kitchen incident. 

Even if it’s not that, it’s the fact that you carefully selected an outfit for tonight, a silky black slip dress that you are terrified to wear because there’s no part of you that you can hide. The slippery material will highlight every curve, every line (especially panty lines), and every droplet of moisture that you might dribble or sweat out. 

But in the last few months, you’ve been trying to do one thing every day that scares you. Today, it would appear you were going to go for two. And now, you are dealing with one terrifying thing that might just be worse than the first two: rejection. 

It’s humiliating. You know you’re going to go to work tomorrow and will have to see him knowing that there will be some awkward confrontation or avoidance game. You’ll have to speak to him. He’ll probably call you into the back office and let you down gently. Will reinforce the fact that he’s your boss and that things have gone too far or some bullshit. 

And then, just like how you’ve been cut out of the lives of people who meant something to you, it’ll happen again, as it always does. 

1 Year Ago

It’s raining so hard that you can’t see the road, but you’re trying to drive through it anyway, trying to make it home in time so you won’t miss it. You got out of work late; you thought being a substitute teacher wouldn’t come with all the extra grading, but you were wrong. 

A year ago, the elementary school nearby shut down, and with it came the layoff of all its teachers. A stupid idea, really, because that meant an already over-enrolled school was forced to shuttle its students across town to the other elementary school, doubling its student body without doubling its teachers. Somewhere in the thick of it, you were looking for a job, living in your parents’ house trying to float from one career to the other. 

Your friends around you were moving; Wonwoo was already in a new time zone, making an upward move in every area. His former girlfriend-turned-fianceé worked in HR for a tech start-up and easily navigated getting him in as a coder. They had just secured a penthouse with a gorgeous view. His life was locked together. Your other friends, it seemed, had moved on in their lives as well. Two of them already had children and were married. Two more were engaged. Everyone else was jetting across the world on expeditions to places with sandy beaches and bottomless drinks. And there you were: mid twenties, desperate for change.

So when you saw the banner across the elementary school advertising a need for substitute teachers, you decided you were desperate enough to try. And as it turned out, you loved it. There was something magic about working with young children, seeing how they developed new ideas you would never in your adult dreams try to fathom. But to them, to fly across the world on a magical escalator or hippo was a true possibility and you wanted part of you to have that same freedom to dream of the impossible. Their creativity inspired you to push the boundaries of life and dream of more. 

Not to mention, it also landed you a boyfriend. One day while you were substituting for the gym teacher, nervously handing out kickballs to a bunch of fourth graders for class and praying they didn’t knock each other’s teeth out, someone stepped into the gymnasium and padded his way over to you, looking for his youngest sister to take her to a dentist appointment. And not too soon after, you and Do Woon had your first day date, which turned into a night date, and then a breakfast date. It was more like a 3-day date where the two of you spent the entire weekend rolling around in his sheets. You only managed to escape that awkward conversation with your parents because they were out of town for the weekend. If they had known any different, you would probably have died from embarrassment. 

Teaching has given you a lot of great things. But with that care comes a cost. You are now late for your father’s surprise birthday party and trapped in an insane rainstorm. 

You weave around fallen tree branches, trying not to obsess over the clock as the minutes roll smoothly into each other, knowing that by now, the surprise portion of the party is over. They’re probably eating cake now and reminiscing on his milestones. Your mother is probably chatting to your aunts and uncles about the renovations they’ve made to the main bathroom. Do Woon is supposed to be there, and if your instincts are right, you’ll be getting engaged tonight. 

It would be the perfect opportunity. All your family is there ready to celebrate, and your father who hates being the center of attention will have all the pleasure of dumping the focus onto you. 

Do Woon has been acting odd the last few weeks. You’ve been pretending not to notice, especially when recent conversations have been skirting around topics you two used to discuss regularly. You have a trip to Bali planned for the fall, which he once said is where he would want to honeymoon. He’s given very few details about this trip since he booked the flight almost three months ago, and you suspect that’s because he doesn’t want to give any spoilers about the honeymoon suites or couple packages you both looked over when you decided this was where you wanted to vacation. You’re not sure you have enough time to plan a wedding in six months, but if this is what Do Woon wants, who are you to say no? 

Since the start of your dating, he’s been thoroughly engrossed in a very specific timeline, and had no issues telling you so: he wanted to date for about a year, get engaged, get married (wherever you wanted, he insisted), have a honeymoon on some beachy shores and get started with making babies. He is the eldest of six. He wants a big family. 

You’ve talked him down from that number over the last few months, having him promise instead you will see how things go and will take it as it comes. While he wasn’t entirely pleased with that compromise, you think his agreement is a good enough answer. But that’s how Do Woon is. He plans his life down to every meticulous detail. Which is why even if you don’t think you can pull off planning a wedding in such a short window of time, you know he can. 

So tonight, you think it’ll happen. And unfortunately for you, you’re going to look like absolute rain-soaked garbage, the perfect accompaniment to your shitty day.

The once neatly wrapped gift next to you is now soggy from the downpour. You didn’t check the weather before heading into work today and left your umbrella in the car. It rolls around on the floor in front of the passenger seat, completely dry and mocking. 

At work, you found out that they’re continuing to make staffing cuts despite the shortage, as many families have chosen not to enroll in the school next year, instead moving their children to private schools closer to their homes or homeschooling. As desperate as they were to hire you, the work you put into the year you’ve been here is now about to just melt away. 

You don’t know how much longer you’ll have a job.

You anticipated this, of course, spent most of the fall applying for graduate programs. Of the ten applications you submitted, you’ve been waitlisted in two places: the local university here and the more modern (and urban) program not even remotely close to this place. You’d hoped when you sent those applications that things would be getting more serious with Do Woon, but it had only been a handful of months. You weren’t sure where the two of you were going. And now, you are hoping for the local program, not wanting to give up on your dream of teaching if it means you don’t have to.

Your phone lights up in the darkness of your car. One more missed call from your mother. But you’re so close, almost to your neighborhood. You know how poorly this is going to go. 

As you take a final turn, making your way down the street, you see the street has started flooding, barring you from your block. It’s no use, either. You can see on the block after yours that those crossroads are also flooded. The only way to get home is to do so on foot. So that’s what you do, park your car on the non-flooded side street, prop the sodden gift under your arm, grab your umbrella and head into the rain. 

The thing about thresholds is that they are a place where you exist in transition. From the street, you can hear a hum of music but don’t know the exact tune. You see faces lit by the warm lamps of your dining room, and can make out your uncle and your father’s boss. But you can also hear the rain thrumming on the roof, smell the Earth as the rain hits the soil. There’s the chill of the wind cutting through your damp clothing. The moment you step into the house, you’ll be someone else. A daughter still, but also someone else’s future wife. 

The warmth of the house touches your face when you step in, the loud voices you’d heard from the other side of the door now having owners: your aunt yelling at your young cousin not to touch something, the sharp guffaw of your dad’s best friend. 

You take off your soaked shoes and walk into the dining room. The cake has been cut, neat squares leaving only globs of frosting leaves behind on the golden tray. The neapolitan ice cream is abandoned and melting into an unappetizing brown sludge. Empty beer cans stack up on the table’s other end. 

Your stomach gurgles. You’ve barely eaten all day. But you know that will all happen soon. There’s time for cake and celebration after you see the birthday boy.

You find him in his favorite lounge chair, foot rest out as he relaxes and listens to some story one of his co-workers is telling about a client. 

“I’m telling ya, she had this massive tits that would knock over everything and everyone. So I says to her one day, you know what I says? ‘Ma’am, now pardon me for sayin’ so, I’m a respectable fella, but I think you might need to get a car blinker.’ And she asks me why and I says to her, ‘Because when you’re turnin’ around, we then’ll know to duck!’”

A roar of laughter bellows through the room, your father smirking at the story as he sips his beer. Ugh. You saunter over to him, fanning a smile across your face. 

“Hi Dad,” you say, and face the rest of the guests. “Hi everyone.” 

“Y/N! What the hell happened to ya, kid. Rainstorm getcha?” Your father’s boss asks.

You give an apologetic nod. “Yes, I was caught in it. Left work late. The road is flooded so be careful when you leave.”

“I drove over in the truck, so I’m fine,” he responds, sucking down the rest of his beer. “Ah, all out. Can I get you another Birthday Boy?” He nudges you with his elbow roughly. “What about you, hon?” 

“I’m, I’m all good. Thanks,” you say awkwardly, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you up and down salaciously. This man is older than your father, is standing next to your father and behaving this way. It makes you want to strip your entire skin from your body and wash it in the washing machine. 

“Suit yourself. I’m gonna get some more of that cake anyways. You coming, Bill?” Bill, the apparent co-worker who was bragging about his evident sexual harassment, sighs. 

“Yeah, yeah. Well, if I don’t see ya, happy birthday again. Thank your wife for the dinner. It was great. And it was good to see you too,” Bill waggles his eyebrows and walks behind you through the foyer and into the dining room. For a brief moment, you swear you feel him cup your ass in passing. 

“Where have you been?!” Your mother’s voice carries across the room. You whip your head to search, finding her walking into the room from the back entrance to the kitchen. She must’ve been cleaning up because the front of her blouse is wet. 

“I was working and I had to stay late. And then the storm happened and I had to park down the street. I’m sorry.” 

“Well because of you, we awkwardly stood around for well over an hour waiting for you to show up and get everything set up so when your father walked in the door it would actually be a surprise. Which it wasn’t, by the way. He recognized Carl’s truck out front and I guess that was the big giveaway. You were supposed to help me with this, Y/N!”

Your father looks at your mother and sighs. “It was really no big deal. I hate surprises anyway.” 

“For a milestone birthday like this, you could use the surprise,” she asserts.

“Well, I got one anyway didn’t I?” He says sharply, standing up and walking out of the room. The gift in your hands feels like dead weight. You set it down onto his chair. 

“What happened?” You ask. 

Your mother walks closer, looking around the room to ensure no one else is listening. “Your father is being laid off. He found out today. And then when Carl and Bill and all them showed up, they kept talking about it. Turns out no one else in his department is being laid off. Just him.”

Your stomach sinks. Your father supplies most of the income that your family needs to stay afloat. He’s not expected to retire for a few more years. Which means if he gets laid off, he’ll lose a few years’ worth of extra employer contributions to his retirement fund. And his boss and co-workers being such assholes to rub it in? Fuck them. 

This wasn’t how you expected any of this to go. 

“Oh god. Poor dad.” Your mother nods. 

“Yeah, what a birthday. And you weren’t even there to share it with him because you were too busy to be here when it was the only time we needed you to show up. So thanks for that.” 

Her words are like knives. You feel yourself being sliced open from all the guilt. She’s not wrong. You’d been the one to organize most of this party, to convince her to follow through with it. And you missed it. People around you have begun departing, shouting happy wishes to your father. All his unwrapped gifts sit on the coffee table next to you, colorful paper pulled open. You missed the entire thing. 

“I didn’t mean to,” you try, but you know it's useless. Your mother waves goodbye to one of the neighbors. It’s stopped raining enough to not be a constant heavy click against the windowpane. 

“Well you did anyway. It is what it is. Now are you going to disappear on me during clean up or are you going to help me?” She begins to weave the discarded wrapping paper out from under the gifts, setting them into a neat pile on the coffee table. 

“I’ll get a trash bag,” you offer, and make your way through the house into the kitchen. Every surface is riddled with stacks of paper plates with balloons on them and plastic forks and spoons. A large yellow tupperware bowl idles by the sink, some vinegary salad now mixed with remnants of every other food from watermelon to potato chips. It’s the first thing you dump into the trash bag. 

You follow the garbage, in and out of the half bathroom and dining room, back to the living room when you notice someone is missing. 

“Mom,” you say. “Where’s Do Woon?” 

“Was he supposed to be here? Because I didn’t see him.” 

“He didn’t come?” 

“No, Y/N. Unless he is hiding upstairs in your room for some reason, I have not seen him at all tonight.” She dumps a pile of plates into the trash bag. “Think you can handle the rest? My feet hurt and your father and I need to discuss some things.” 

“Sure, I am just surprised he didn’t come. I thought–”

“God, honestly. For two seconds can you not think about yourself? It’s not your birthday.”

You fall silent, nodding your head as she steps out of the room and goes to find your father.

Something must be wrong, you think. You reach into your pocket and grab your phone, checking it for messages from Do Woon. 

There are many missed calls from your mother, but none from him. Strange. The last time you talked was today. You had reminded him what time the party started. He didn’t respond, but he read the message, and you were satisfied with that. 

You select his contact info and hit the call button. After a few seconds of ringing, it goes to voicemail. 

“Hey, it’s me. Not sure what happened tonight, maybe you got stuck in the storm. I know I did, it was crazy and I missed the entire party. Today’s been awful. But uh yeah, call me back when you get this. Love you.” 

Maybe he is stuck in a work meeting? He does work late, sometimes unexpectedly, putting in extra hours at his office until you are getting ready for bed. 

You shoot him a text. 

You 9:02PM: Hey, missed you at the party. Are you working late?Read 9:02PM

Immediately you can see he has opened it. But after ten minutes, there is no response. 

You 9:12PM: Everything okay? Read 9:12PM

You clean up the rest of the trash in the living room, tying off the bag and stepping outside. It has stopped raining. The world looks glassy as droplets fall from the tree limbs and refract the streetlights. You walk over to the trash bin, the glaze of cold water running down your hands as you deposit the bag in. You grab the mail. 

No acceptance letters. For some reason that feels like the cherry on top of the shittiness that is today. Your mother’s bitter words, your father’s exhaustion, the weather’s chaos weaving into your insecurity. It all feels like some horrible dream. 

You need Do Woon. He’s not much of a talker, but he is a good listener, and after a good ranting session, he’ll usually fuck the sadness out of you so you don’t have to think and afterward you’re usually too tired to do anything but sleep. That’s what you need right now. 

Where is he? It’s been a half hour and no response. Maybe you’re being paranoid and soon he’ll call and poke fun at how worried you seemed. Maybe he’ll be mad that you are interrupting a work meeting. But today has been awful. And all you want is to hear his voice. 

So you call him again, and this time it goes immediately to voicemail. 

You 9:38PM: What is going on? Read 9:38PM

You 9:39PM: Please answer me. I’m getting worried. Read 9:39PM

You 9:39PM: Babe!

Message failed to deliver. 

A glow falls onto the damp earth around you. You look around for the source and then up. As the rain clouds break apart above you, you realize you’re standing in the light of the moon. 

He never called back. That was the end. When you think about it now, there were some vague signs of distancing, but it never amounted to anything that made sense. There, then gone, Do Woon cut you off one day and never looked back. 

Much to your embarrassment, you didn’t handle the situation well. That night, you tried calling him three more times, only to receive a message that the number you tried to reach was unavailable. You’d considered driving to his apartment, but as the night wore on, you started to put the pieces together. He didn’t want to talk to you. He’d blocked you, and you didn’t know why. 

For the first month after the ghosting-turned-break-up, you tried to get intel to figure out what happened, how you had so royally fucked up your relationship that he didn’t even want to tell you to your face. Unfortunately, most of your friends you’d made that year were through him, and with him cutting you off, so did most of your friends. 

Your parents were sympathetic, to a degree. You were given approximately two days to mope. And then you were told to start looking for better jobs in case you, like your father, would be laid off. 

“It’ll be a good distraction, I think!” Your mother had said. “Nothing says get over a relationship better than starting a new job.” 

You and your father passed job postings back and forth for the next week. You were less than thrilled with the job market. Sure, jobs existed, but none with your skillset or interests or desired pay. To gain anything you would have to make a choice to lose something else, and it twisted your gut at the prospect. 

But, in the midst of the heartache, came your rejection from the local university. It was for the best, really. You knew you only wanted to study there because of Do Woon, and without him being part of your life it didn’t matter anyway. 

And just as you were at the end of your optimism, ready to let hope die and surrender to the dreamless haze, an email came in with an acceptance into the final university. A big city laid before you to explore. 

Things snapped into place. You finished up the school year and told your parents you were moving out. 

And now you’re here, in an apartment all to yourself, attending your dream program (or at least trying to) and learning how to cook a halfway decent meal. An apartment that has you rotting on a couch as you try to remind yourself that what happened with Do Woon was a fluke, and not anything you did wrong. And it certainly isn’t some sign that you’re doomed to repeat the same fate again.  

You’ve learned in the last few weeks that he’s engaged to someone he met through a matchmaking service. In his profile picture, his future bride is holding an ultrasound photo and he has his hands on her very large belly. “Coming this summer: our own ray of sunshine” the caption reads. 

You can’t imagine him ever saying that. He always hated cheesy things. But that’s the surprising thing about all of this: you also never expected him to ghost you and immediately start seeing someone else. 

He was a fluke in the timeline. Not a rule, right? You know this. You know not everything happening once means you’re doomed to repeat it forever. 

But why is that all you can think about with Seokjin? 

You went to work this morning, and he said nothing. No, he probably won’t disappear into the abyss because he manages this place. But when his parents return, will he then? Is he just biding his time before he vanishes? 

You hope not. God, you really hope not. 

The day rolls on without a word between either of you. Maybe this is how it should be, you think. Two people. Uncomplicated. Not tied to each other by strands of anything. 

Fate. This is how it works. It brings people together and then it pulls them apart. 

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

[ethruia]

ONE NIGHT ONLY — 9. life360 doesn’t gatekeep

synopsis — three years since your falling out with lee donghyuck he has suddenly transfered to your college in hopes to make it big with his friends in his band. unfortunately for you, your unresolved friendship started causing problems between you and the people around you, especially since your best friend is his ex. so — why have you found yourself in his room with a raging hangover?

a/n; IM SO SORRY FOR ANOTHER WRITTEN PART

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TAGS; @j2upiters @aerivrs @haesluvr @hyuck-me @tywritesstuff @aek1ra @ourbeautifulaffair @222brainrot @bugcattie @nosungluv @manooffline @amrqxz @haechansbbg @odxrilove

YOU SLOWED DOWN YOUR CAR AS YOU TURNED INTO THE PARKING LOT.

the arcade your friends decided to go to was called ‘pete’s paradise’. it was slightly small but jam packed with different rows filled with a variety of games. your friends always loved to go there after yangyang got off work to play air hockey. anton always complained that karina was too good for the group and never wanted to go against her because he knew he would lose. when you walked up to the entrance to pete’s haechan and jisung were standing by the doors waiting for you to arrive. you said your hello’s to the two of them entered the building.

you immediately spotted your friends by the dance dance revolution machine, jaemin and giselle were both playing while anton was bickering with yangyang and karina.

“well it’s not my fault you were acting like we haven’t seen each other for ten years” anton shrugged.

“it’s called an expression you idiot” karina rolled her eyes. “your brain just too small to figure out context clues” she turned away from anton and noticed you three at the door.

“yn! you’re here!” she ran over and gave you a hug. the rest of the group followed after when they noticed she said your name.

“i see you followed our advice and brought jisung! just a little surprise to see haechan too” giselle spoke up, as it was your turn to give her a hug next.

“um yeah.. we didn’t want to exclude him i hope that’s okay” you were quite nervous about giselle and haechan in the same room but hopefully she would stay true to her word and not be too bothered with you two.

after awhile things tended to get less awkward and everyone was having fun — anton was playing whack-a-mole with jisung, yangyang was with jaemin and giselle and they were playing some racing game, and that left karina with you as haechan went to the bathroom. you took the time spent with her to tell her about how you’ve been feeling so you could finally get advice from a third party.

“haechan has a crush on me. he told me a few days ago and i don’t know how to feel about it. i mean i had a crush on him in high school but it was too late, he was already with giselle. now i feel like i shouldn’t do anything about it because you know how heartbroken he left her and i don’t want to make her upset or uncomfortable” you were fidgeting with your fingers when you looked at her as she was trying to piece together a response.

“well you can’t control someone you like. i know you don’t want to hurt giselle but i think you should go for it. they broke up almost four years ago, plus she has a really nice thing going on with jaemin right now. she did say not to date him and as much as i don’t want secrets in the group, you should date him” she was confirming the only real way you had to go about this — a secret relationship.

“he’s taking me on a date later after we leave”

“what about jake? you didn’t break up that long ago, i know your feelings for haechan are genuine but you still got hurt recently” her voice was filled with concern.

“i am definitely hurt but i think him leaving me for yuna made me feel like there wasn’t even a point for me to even be upset, he was distant even before we broke up there really isn’t any surprises” karina looked at you like she was giving you her approval and that’s all you needed. you would talk to giselle on your own soon but first you had to put your relationship with donghyuck first.

while you were having your talk with karina, giselle was also having a conversation with yangyang.

“i feel a little upset with them being together if i’m being honest, but i know i should probably get over it” she gave a slight smile as she knew that she couldn’t block out what was happening between you two. “i know they’ve been best friends for years and now that they’ve rekindled it i shouldn’t feel this way, but i just feel a lot of the repressed emotions from before i guess”

“and your feelings are valid you know,” yangyang took a slight pause. “he was your first real relationship, your first true love. it would only make sense it hurts to see him”

“i just don’t want to ruin this for yn. she’s my best friend and i don’t want to hurt her because i ‘forbid’ her from associating someone she spent so many years with”

“just give it time — for now just focus on the fashion show and then give it some more thought after” yangyang squeezed her hand as he got up and walked with her back over to where jaemin was playing skee-ball.

for the next 2 hours everyone spent time rotating the games until it was the time to go their separate ways. you said goodbye to everyone until it was time to finally leave with haechan.

“you ready?” haechan took your hand and guided you to your car.

“are you ready to be a passenger princess?”

“i’m always ready to be your passenger princess you don’t even need to ask” he got into the car and showed you where he wanted to take you — a small shopping district not too far away from where you were.

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝗳𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗶𝘇𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 "𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗺𝘆" | 𝘤𝘣98 ♔

➪ summary: for the first time, y/n and connor play against each other and it doesn't go as well as she hoped it would

➪ warnings: idk, none i think

➪ word count: 2.9k

➪ file type: fic

➪ sunny's notes: this is actually so bad, why did i think this was good when i made it

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Sitting on the bus, y/n looked at her phone, biting her fingernail. She was nervous, beyond nervous if you were to ask her. She wasn’t ready for anyone to find out, they had gone two years without anyone noticing and it could be revealed within seconds.

“You okay?” Luke sat down next to her, throwing his arm on the back of her seat. 

Y/n and Luke were the rookie two on the Devils, well, because they were both rookies. She was traded from the Canadiens not long after she was drafted, why? She would never know, but she couldn’t care now. 

“Nothing, why would something be wrong? Do I have a look on my face? Am I shaking?”

“No, but you’re talking fast and rambling.” Luke pointed out, his eyebrow-raising.

“Oh. I promise I’m fine.”

“Bull shit.” 

“Well, you know with Nico and Jack out, I’m just a little nervous about playing by myself.”

When y/n first started practicing with the team and even through her debut, she had always played with Jack or Nico. It wasn’t a conscious thing that Lindy had done but somehow she was always on the ice with one of them. Obviously, when Nico got injured, she had played with Jack but when he got hurt during the Blues game she was nervous. She hadn’t played without them since and the thought of that was terrifying.

What made it worse, is that she was playing her boyfriend, the 2023 first overall pick. What made that worse, was that no one knew they were dating. Everyone had been raving, the past two first-overall picks were all playing on the ice.

“You’ll be okay, promise.”

“Y/n/n! Luke!” 

The girl turned her head to see Dawson standing at the front of the bus and they realized they were all alone, “Time for practice you two.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to.” Luke dragged her off the bus, following behind Dawson. 

Her phone rang as she went into the bathroom and she answered it, “Hi?”

“Hey babe.”

“Oh, hi Con!”

“Are you here yet?” Y/n nodded her head, forgetting that her boyfriend couldn’t see her, “Hello?”

“Yes, sorry. Luke and I just got off the bus.”

“I heard something about us filming a video or something, I don’t really know.”

The girl groaned, “Of course. Why can’t we-”

“Y/n/n hurry up!” Both she and Connor stopped talking at the voice, “Give me a second!” 

Whoever was behind the door, she couldn’t tell, walked away and y/n sat her phone down on speaker as she got changed, the two catching up. When she was done, the two said goodbye and she walked out, startled to see Luke standing there, “Oh!”

“So, who was that?” 

“Who was what?”

“The guy on your phone, dumbass.”

“Hey! Unnecessary roughness.” That had become an inside joke with her and the team. Whenever they were at practice and one of the guys accidentally shoved her a little too hard, she would always stop and call it ‘unnecessary roughness’. This happened both on and off the ice. 

“I’ll take your clothes, you go find your way to the ice.” Luke grabbed y/n’s clothes that she had changed out of to the clubhouse.

‘Find your way to the ice’ was an easy task, she had been to the United Center plenty of times. However, she purposely got lost in hopes of running into Connor, which was successful. She walked down the hallways, running into staff and other Hawks players who kindly waved at her. When she took a brief look at her phone, going to text the group chat that she was lost she ran into a chest.

“Connor!”

Connor looked down at the girl and smiled, “Hi.” She gave him a tight hug, some tears slipping out.

He pulled away, his smile turning into a frown. He placed his hands on her cheeks, wiping the stray tears, “What’s wrong, baby?”

She shook her head, “Nothing. I’m just so happy to see you. I haven’t seen you in months.” Connor wrapped his arms around his girlfriend once more, practically squeezing the life out of her, “It’s okay, I promise.”

They continued to hug for a few moments and when they finally pulled apart, y/n’s tears were still on her face. She went to dry her face off when a loud voice echoed down the hallway, “Hey!”

The two turned to see Jesper and Timo standing there, faces plastered with anger as they looked at their teammate/little sister with tears falling down her face. The two walked towards them and separated them, “Guys? You okay?”

Both their faces softened at y/n’s voice and looked down at her, “Shouldn’t we be asking you two that?”

“What do you mean?” Connor spoke up, his arms crossing over his chest. Now, the Devils and Hawks were not rivalries. They had no affiliation with them and only played them twice a season, once at home and over in Chicago, so really the two shouldn’t have a reason to be mad at the two talking. If anything, they should be glad that their girl was making conversation with other NHL players besides themselves, especially one who was the same age as her, but Timo and Jesper’s faces tensed up at the 18-year-old’s voice, “I don’t know Bedard why don’t you tell us why our girl is crying? What did you say to her?”

Y/n went to defend her boyfriend but the two weren’t having it. Timo dragged the girl away from their teammate and Connor as she tried to get through to the two men. None of them listened once again and she couldn’t do much but give up. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

Throughout practice, y/n took her frustration out on her teammates and the puck. The boys exchanged looks with each other as practice went on, having no explanation for why she was acting like this. Lindy was confused as well and as soon as y/n ‘accidentally’ shoved Jesper into the boards, which also didn’t bode well with her since Jesper was 5’10” and weighed 175 pounds. As she ran into him, she tripped over both his and her skates, causing her to go flying to the boards as well. 

She let out a yelp in pain as she landed on her arm. It wasn’t anything serious but the initial action of her landing on it caused a big enough ache through her arm for her to verbally react to it. 

Connor had been watching from the stadium seats and winced when he saw it happen. He went to run down when he remembered Jesper’s words.

‘If I ever see you near her again, I wouldn’t mind getting a suspension.’

Sure it was a little harsh, but y/n was his teammate, his little sister, of course, he was going to be protective and so was everyone else on the team. 

The whole team crowded around y/n, the trainer pushing their way through the hoard of hockey players to assess the girl’s injury. As soon as they went to touch her arm, she shoved them off, “I’m fine.”

The trainer nodded their head, “I understand that but I still need to-”

Y/n got up and threw her gloves on the ground, “I said I’m fine!” She skated a little ways away and started moving her arm around, “See, I’m fine. I could punch someone if I fucking wanted to.” 

She continued her skate and got off the ice, heading for the locker room. She didn’t mean for her words to come out so harsh, nor did she mean to swear, but she was mad. Who were they to tell her who she could and couldn’t be around? They weren’t her keeper. 

Connor met her in front of the visiting clubhouse, “Are you okay?”

She nodded her head, having cooled off from her walk and it wasn’t him that she was mad at, “I’m gonna be so trash tomorrow.”

“Hey don’t say that, y/n/n. You’re going to be great!”

“But, Nico and Jack-”

“Nico and Jack have nothing to do with your performance. Sure they might enhance it, but you control how you play. Tomorrow you are going to kick ass, as much as I don’t want you to- not like that! I want you to do well it’s just that if you do well that means-”

Y/n cut him off with a kiss, “I know what you meant, Connie.”

Connor blushed and nodded his head. The two heard footsteps coming their way and immediately split up, heading back in their respective directions. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

Throwing on her suit, y/n got ready to head to the UC. She slicked her hair back into a ponytail and put her heels on. She headed down to the lobby of the hotel and waited in the corner, away from anyone else. She hadn’t talked to anyone since yesterday’s practice and she wasn’t planning on talking to anyone until she absolutely had to. 

She sat at the back of the bus instead of sitting next to Luke like she always did. She put her headphones in and listened to her holiday music, she didn’t care what anyone else said, holiday music made her happy. She could hear the quiet conversations around her through her headphones even though she tried to drown them out. 

Placing her headphones back into her pocket and stood up ready to get off the bus. She was stopped as soon as she was about to get off the bus by Vitek, who handed her a cup of coffee. Vitek was one of the players that she could never be mad at, he was adorable and no one could be mad at him. 

“Thanks, V.” She gave him a grateful smile and he returned one right back, letting her get off the bus. She ignored the cameras flashing as she walked to the clubhouse, following whoever had gotten off the bus in front of her. 

The team all went through their pregame rituals, getting ready for the game. No one attempted to talk to y/n, mostly because she was always nervous before games and any slight conversation made her even more nervous. 

During pregame, as they were practicing, everyone could tell something was off. The Devils knew something was off, Lindy knew something was off, the Hawks knew something was off, and even the fans knew something was off. They chalked it up to just the absence of Nico and the recent absence of Jack, they had lost their two-star players without much time apart.

Y/n stood between Dawson and Nathan during the National Anthem, making eye contact with Connor since he was ironically directly across from her. They slowly got through warmups and soon it was time for the game to start. 

Having faith, and assuming that she had a complete reset and she was back to normal, Lindy sent her out for the beginning face-off. She wanted to protest but she knew she couldn’t. She skated toward center ice and faced her boyfriend. The two sighed before bending down into position. Let’s just say, it was not a good start for the Devils. 

It was almost two minutes into the game and Taylor Hall had scored already. Y/n wasn’t on the ice when it happened, having changed lines just beforehand. She sighed amongst the others on the benches and leaned over and whispered into Toffoli's ear, “Can you get a penalty for checking your own teammate?”

Toffoli laughed, causing her to let one out as well. The bench looked at each with smiles on their faces, glad to see their girl smiling once again. 

Over halfway into the period and y/n had done jack-shit. No goals, no assists, no nothing. It was like she was invisible out there, well not really. She had gotten a few hits which was no big deal but normally, those wouldn’t have happened. She would have dodged them completely or softened the blow a little bit, but they just happened. 

When Dawson scored his first goal of the season she was on the ice with him. She skated fast and hugged him, so excited for him. That was the only other time she was happy during that period. Every other time she came off the ice she was so close to chucking her stick into a board or the bench itself, she was pissed off. She wanted to prove something to everyone and herself that she could do something without Nico or Jack, and right now, the only ones she was proving right were the ones who said she was trash from the start. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

During the first intermission, the Devils walked back somewhat happy, they were leading 2-1, Dawson had his first goal and so did Max Willman. Lindy spoke briefly about the first period and kept making little jabs towards y/n. None that were hurtful but ones that tried to ignite a spark in her for the second. 

That didn’t happen at all. The second period was worse than the last if that was even possible. Everyone could tell she was frustrated. Connor noticed it the most when she was on the ice with him. Her whole body was more tense, her shot was weak and floppy, and her passing was not on point. 

The second intermission was when Lindy stormed into the clubhouse, “What was that, y/l/n?!” 

The team snapped their heads up at their coach, they hadn’t heard him so mad at y/n before. 

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“Damn right, it won’t happen again. You’re playing like shit.”

“Jeez, I know I suck, but you don’t have to frame it that way.” Y/n’s eyes watered up. 

Lindy knew she could play better, he was determined to make it that way, “You have to man up. You think Hischier gets off all high and dry when he plays like you are? You think Hughes is going to sit on his ass after a game when he did nothing all game? No.”

She looked at the team, looking for some support but she knew she didn’t deserve it, “You have got to put your personal issues aside, this team is what matters now. I don’t care who’s hanging out with who, who’s kissing who, who’s fighting who, I don’t care. You all get your heads in the game and get out there and play some hockey.”

The team was speechless, “Do you hear me?”

“Yes, coach/sir.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

Coming back for the third period, y/n was nervous, more nervous than before. Yet it seemed like Lindy’s speech worked. 

4:35 into the third period, y/n scored. John assisted and the team was elated for the girl. They patted her head and hugged her before she skated off to high-five the bench. And from the other side of the ice, even though his opponent just scored, Connor held a smile on his face, he was proud of his girl. 

Although, that wasn’t enough for y/n. If she was going to prove herself, she was going to prove herself. The team briefly faltered when Donato got his goal but right before the game ended, y/n got herself another goal, unassisted this time. 

Everyone was proud of her, especially Nico who was watching from home and Jack would be too when he was able to watch it, not knowing where he was at this moment. After the game everyone got changed back into their suits, doing some post-game interviews beforehand.

They wanted to celebrate but they weren’t going to go without y/n. They were going to go out for dinner but she declined nicely, saying she had other plans. The team looked confused as they stood outside talking with one another, but when someone all of a sudden came behind their teammate and picked her up and spun her around, the realization grew on their faces, Jesper and Timo becoming embarrassed.

They let the two have their moment for a little bit before someone cleared his throat, Luke. 

“Yes, Lukas?”

“Ooo, full name bud.”

Luke glared at everyone, “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?”

“I think they’re more than friends.” Dawson snickered with Nathan as they stood behind everyone else.

“Right, guys this is Connor, Connor this is the team.”

“You watch yourself, Bedard.”

“Okay, we’re leaving, bye everyone!”

The two ran off before anyone could say anything else. They got into Connor’s car and drove to their new favorite restaurant, Culver’s.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

•❅ 《 𝘉𝘖𝘕𝘜𝘚 𝘚𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘌 》 ❅•

“I don’t want to go.”

“I know, sweetheart, but think of it this way. The 22 I’m in Columbus, you’re in Detroit. I’ll drive there after the game and we can spend some of Thursday together before our games on Friday. And then about a month later we can visit for Christmas.”

“You’re gonna be so exhausted Connie.” 

“You’re worth it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Connor gave y/n a kiss on the forehead, before kissing her cheek and her nose. She leaned in to kiss him on his lips yet was interrupted by a loud voice, “Y/n! You’re gonna miss our flight!”

She rolled her eyes, “How do they always manage to interrupt us?”

Connor shrugs and smiles, “Go on.”

“But would me missing the flight really be a bad thing?”

“Y/n!!”

“I’m coming, jeez!”

Connor kissed her and ushered her off, “Love you!”

“Love you too!”

[forest-hashira]

Day Off

hi everyone! this is my first request fic for @ficsforgaza, requested by the lovely @yutaleks! he asked for a day off with maki + flustering her a little. as i tend to do, i got carried away, so this is over 2k words instead of being a 500-700 word drabble, whoops. i hope you guys enjoy!

read on ao3 | wc: ~2.1k | cw: no pronouns used for reader but sort of implied fem!reader, fluff, maki & reader spend the day at the arcade

“Kugisaki, come on, Maki’s waiting for us!”

You’d been knocking on your classmate’s door for over five minutes, and that was after you’d spent ten minutes trying to get her to answer her phone. You’d both agreed to meet Maki at the entrance to campus, since it was the weekend and none of you had a mission to complete, but now your fellow first year was apparently ghosting you.

“Go away!” she shouted from within her dorm, not bothering to open the door. “I look awful! Itadori fucked up my hair, I can’t be seen in public like this!”

An exasperated groan escaped you, your head thumping against the door; there was no use arguing with her, and you knew it. It would be a miracle if anyone saw her out of her room for the next six business days. “Fushiguro and I told you not to let him near your hair with bleach.” Yuji meant well, he always did, but when the words “I’ve never done this, but how hard could it be?” had left his lips, Nobara should have thought twice.

Whatever. She was dealing with the consequences of her decision now.

“I’m going to meet Maki now,” you told her, already stepping back from the door. “I’ll see if I can find you a hat that goes with your uniform while we’re out.”

“Don’t you dare get me something ugly!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

Already running late, you hurried out of the dorm building and down to the torii gates, where your senpai was waiting, phone in hand. You called out to her, waving as you jogged over to meet her.

She looked up at the sound of your voice, glancing behind you and arching a brow when she realized you were alone. “Where’s Kugisaki?” 

“Not coming,” you sighed. “She thought it would be a good idea to let Itadori help her touch up her roots last night.”

The expression she made in response was borderline comical, her nose crinkling up and her brows furrowing together as she frowned. “What made her think that?”

“No idea, Fushiguro and I both told her not to but she didn’t listen.” You shrugged slightly, stepping past Maki to make your way off campus. “I promised I’d buy her a hat while we’re out.” You made it down the first couple steps that lead off campus before you realized she wasn’t following you, and you paused.

“Aren’t you coming?” you asked, turning to face her.

“We’ve never gone anywhere without her,” she replied, glancing back in the direction of the dorms for a moment.

You arched a brow slightly. “What, you afraid I’ll bite without Kugisaki around to keep me in check?” 

Maki turned back to face you as you spoke, and when she saw your cheeky grin, she rolled her eyes. “If either of you needs to be kept in check it’s her.” Finally, she walked forward to join you, and you made your way down the stairs side by side. “Just feels weird leaving her behind, is all.” 

“A little bit, yeah,” you hummed in agreement. “But without her here, we don’t have to spend all day shopping. We can go somewhere else for once.”

“Like where?”

There was a brief silence as you took a moment to consider her question. Your first thought was the movies, but you were fairly certain that was where Yuji had dragged the others for the day, so you reconsidered. “The arcade?”

Maki looked as if she was going to argue, so you were quick to keep talking. 

“Come on, it’ll be a good time! I’m really good at the claw machines, I’ll win you something nice.” Your words were punctuated by you batting your lashes at your senpai. “Besides, I’m sure you’d smoke all those lame high scores on the dance games.”

The look she gave you was confused, though when you batted your lashes at her, she quickly looked away, picking up her pace a little, getting a few steps ahead of you before you fully noticed. “Fine,” she agreed. “We’ll go to the arcade, but only if you can keep up with me the whole way there.” 

She paused when she reached the bottom of the stairs, glancing at you with a smirk tugging at her lips. “Ready?” she asked, but before you were able to give a response, she took off in the direction of the arcade – not at her top speed, but certainly faster than you could maintain over that much distance.

“That’s cheating!” you shouted after her, smiling despite your irritation as you raced after her, eager to catch up with her. 

You did manage to catch up with her eventually, but only because she had reached the arcade first and was waiting for you.

“Your speed could use a little work, y’know,” she teased, smirking down at you as you braced your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath.

“Screw you, Maki,” you groused, lifting your head enough to glare at her, though the effect was lost because of your breathless state. “Sorry we’re not all gifted like you are.”

She laughed at your words, giving a slight shrug. “Guess you’re right,” she agreed, then tilted her head towards the doors of the arcade. “Shall we?”

Having finally caught your breath, you stood upright again and nodded, walking into the building with your schoolmate. You looked around for a moment, trying to spot the claw machines. After a moment, you noticed them along the back wall. “C’mon!” you said, beaming at Maki as you grabbed her hand and pulled her after you.

“Wha— where are we going?” she asked, stumbling for a step as she went with you.

“I’m showing you my claw machine skills!” Your bright smile had yet to fade, and you stopped once you reached the wall of claw machines. “Pick one.”

“Huh?”

“Pick a machine,” you repeated. “And then pick a prize. I’m gonna win it for you.”

Maki looked skeptical, but when your earnest expression didn’t change, she finally turned to look at the array of claw machines. Most of them held various kinds of plushies, one looked like it held some gaming consoles, or something, but one, tucked away in the corner, seemed to be full of rhinestone bedazzled accessories, including a denim newsboy-style cap. “You said you were gonna get Kugisaki a hat, right?”

Following her gaze, you also saw the hat in the claw machine, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, yes! She’s gonna hate it, I have to get it for her.” You hurried over to the machine, wanting to make sure you would be the one to claim the prize you were after. You examined the placement of the cap in the machine for a few moments, leaning around the sides of the machine as much as you could to get a good look. Once you were satisfied, you fished the coins out of your bag, sliding them into the slot.

A grin broke out across your face as it beeped to life, but once you had control of the claw, your focus sharpened, zeroing in on the cap. Maki was a little shocked to see the focus that came over you, and she watched in amazement as you carefully maneuvered the claw over the cap, picked it up, and deposited it in the prize basket on your first try.

“Damn,” she said, grinning when she saw the cap in your hands. “Maybe you do have some claw machine skills.” 

“I have mad claw machine skills, thank you very much,” you corrected. “I’ll prove it to you again later by winning you a prize, but right now I believe you promised me a round on the dance games.” You tucked the hat into your bag as you spoke, not wanting to lose track of it.

“I made no such promise, and you know it,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Hmm, do I?” you asked, feigning innocence as you tapped your chin, as if in thought. “I definitely remember you promising me a dance off, so let’s go!” 

Once again, you grabbed her hand to drag her across the arcade to the dance games, and once again, you missed the way her eyes widened and the tips of her eyes went a faint shade of pink. 

The Dance Dance Revolution machines – two of them, side by side and both unoccupied at the moment – weren’t far from the claw machines, and you grinned when you reached them. “Alright,” you said, shooting Maki a grin, a glint in your eye. “Time to see how your skills translate to this.” 

Releasing her hand, you stepped up onto one of the platforms, scrolling through songs for a moment as your upperclassman stared at you like you had spontaneously grown a second head. You turned over your shoulder when you realized she wasn’t on the other machine yet. “C’mon, Maki, please? Just one song, then you can go back to being boring.” When she still seemed reluctant, you batted your lashes at her. “You’ll probably kick my ass. Don’t you want bragging rights?”

Though your words were partially meant as a joke, they seemed to do the trick. Maki rolled her eyes at you, but she had a hint of a smile on her lips, and the tips of her ears still burned a light pink. “Okay, fine. One song. And I’m definitely going to wipe the floor with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her words, throwing your head back for a moment before returning to the task of finding a song. Eventually you picked one of the songs ranked “medium” in difficulty, and once you were both ready, you clicked start.

At first, it looked like Maki might have to eat her words about wiping the floor with you, having a rather unceremonious start and missing the first several steps almost entirely while you got most of them on beat. She was quick to recover though, getting a feel for both the game and the song, landing every step perfectly on beat, not missing a single one for the rest of the song, and she didn’t even seem to be breaking a sweat.

She was annihilating you, and you barely managed to keep from watching her instead of trying to keep up. In the end, she was right: she did wipe the floor with you, her score almost twice what yours was. 

“That was fun,” she said, turning to you with a grin of her own. “Wanna go again? I wanna try one of the harder songs.”

You felt like your eyes were going to bug out of your head. “I think I’ll pull a muscle if I try to keep up with a harder song. But I’d love to see you smash it.” As you spoke, you stepped off the platform for your machine, not wanting to hog it if someone else wanted to play.

“Embarrassed?” she teased, narrowing her eyes playfully at you. “I gave you a warning, you can’t be mad at me.”

“Not embarrassed,” you corrected. “Practical. Because as much as I would love to be your damsel in distress, I doubt you want to carry me back to campus, and it would be embarrassing as hell to explain to Shoko that I hurt myself playing a video game.”

It was Maki’s turn to laugh then, her ponytail swishing as she shook her head at you. “Fine, fine,” she conceded. “Pick a song for me, whatever difficulty you wanna throw at me.” She shot you a wink, and you quickly looked towards the game screen to hide your burning cheeks.

After a few moments of clicking through to the higher difficulty songs, you eventually picked the hardest one, just to see if Maki would be able to keep up. As the countdown for the song began, you stepped back, eager to watch how everything was going to unfold. Like before, it took a moment for her to get into the rhythm of the song, but unlike the first song, it only took her about three seconds to get into it.

Watching her move was fascinating. Sure, you’d seen her fight gracefully in training and on missions, but this was different; this was fun, and it came across in the way her body moved to the beat. You couldn’t help but cheer in excitement as she got a particularly quick, tricky set of steps all in a row, your cheeks beginning to ache from how wide you were grinning as you watched her. 

Soon enough, the song was over, and Maki had unsurprisingly claimed the top score for it. She turned back to you with a smirk, her expression brightening slightly when she saw your lingering excitement. “I think I want you to win me something from the claw machine for winning that.”

“Anything you want.”

this was my first time writing for maki, so i hope she doesn't seem too ooc. either way i had a lot of fun, thank you so much for requesting this aleks! i hope this fulfills your expectations 💜

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @sugurei @peachdues @ghost-1-y @witchbybirth

@marinnnnnnnnn @dr-runs-with-scissors @entirelysein-e @yutaleks @ficsforgaza

divider credit to the ficsforgaza blog

[starz-n-stuff]

My soul is restless and I want to see the world that makes me feel so small

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

I saw Gianni retweet your art on Twitter and I was like "I wonder if he knows...?"

I don’t think so >:3

Trick people into reposting gabe ass with one simple trick! Click here to find out how.

I didn’t even notice that happened cause I turned off all my notifications everywhere a few days ago for peace and quiet

[kuroosdarling]

hello friendz !! i am packing my bags and moving to @tetzoro !!! please come join me if ya want ^_^

back to navi.