#genuinely saying; hey I'm confused explain it to me

[rogueddie]

Femme is a historically lesbian identity, just like butch.

I'm confused as to how me saying this implies that I'm racist or a terf

Femme has been historically queer, just as long as it's been historically lesbian. If anything, from what I've seen, it was used by black gay men first. You can't just hijack a word that was never originally exclusive to lesbians and then suddenly claim that it is.

And like I said, people use femme being exclusively lesbian as a way of excluding black women, from what I've seen. And there are nb people who identify as femme, there are trans men that use femme. There are bi men and women who use femme. There are queer people who identify with femme.

And, again, if I'm missing something; tell me. You can't keep saying that it is exclusive and expect me to go along with it. EXPLAIN IT.

[some-other-number]

the reason people prioritize women and kids isn't because of feminism, idiot, its because of cultural reasons, some of them sexist, some of them not, and because obviously children are more at risk. not to mention most of the actual violence by the israel state is perpetuated BY men and so the population is wary because women and girls experience wartime rape more often than palestinian men. none of this is related to feminism . white knights need to shut the hell up. you do not get to dehumanize us and pretend arab women are favored over our brothers and better off during our own annihilation, just to make a vague antifeminist debate out of it. we are ALL begging the west to see us as human beings and propaganda doesn't allow you to. and extremely little of that propaganda has anything to do with "radical feminism" or whatever you are in a culture war against.

you seem genuinely very upset and I'm sorry about that but why are you in my askbox. I'm not the person you should be taking this issue up with, and if you're going to every single person in the notes of that post even in the circumstances I think you have a problem and need to take a step back. there are other things you can do aside from this, because you're not being helpful. I don't think anyone with a scrap of decency is denying the horrors perpetuated against palestinian women and children; there is just, due to the assumption under gender essentialism that men must be the protectors of women and children; that women need protecting, probably from other men, placing the blame of men's violence onto women, as well as dismisses the need to teach everyone, but especially men, to respect their fellow human beings, and this has metamorphosed into assuming any man is a combatant; a specific kind of dehumanisation due to gender. this assumption that all men (especially between ages eighteen and sixty-five) are combatants is used as an excuse to further dehumanise palestinian men and excuse the massacre of them because 'what if they were secretly combatants' when instead they were innocent civilians. this is about viewing every single palestinian facing the horrific ongoing genocide as a human being, including the ones that are more likely to be excused as 'oh but they may have secretly been terrorists'. your other points are completely irrelevant to that specific discussion; nobody is going to say that's not happening to prove a culture war point. nobody decent at least. and assuming that is what's happening is incredibly bad faith and shows a callous nature towards your fellow human beings, especially when it is calling out the dehumanisation of men due to their gender and cultural gender expectations by specifically western 'feminists' who hide behind the label and degrade the work of actual feminists by colluding with fascists.

[worldlxvlys]

Tension Reliever

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: When your boyfriend causes you to feel stressed out, Matt and Chris provide a tension reliever offering you a massage, though they don’t pass up the opportunity to take advantage of the situation you guys end up in.

Warnings: 18+ content, p in v, threesome, cheating, unprotected sex, creampie, masturbation (m receiving), oral (m receiving), cursing

A/N -> collab with the literal love of my life @selenascorner <33

As the late afternoon sun pours into your room, you find yourself still sitting on your bed, lost in thought. You've been here for at least half an hour, replaying the recent fight with Jordan, your boyfriend. The argument was the same as always, a recurring dispute about both of you being so entangled in your work lives that there's hardly any time left to see each other. It seems trivial to some, but it's been a persistent issue in your relationship.

However, the argument about time is just the tip of the iceberg. Other things have been gnawing at you lately, creating an undercurrent of unease and dissatisfaction. Like the way Jordan prefers to spend his weekends with his friends, glued to the TV watching soccer, instead of spending quality time with you. Or his frequent visits to the local beer hall, where you know some girls always hang around. On top of all this, you're painted as the paranoid one in the relationship. Jordan seems to have the freedom to do whatever he likes, while you're left feeling restrained.

This situation has been your reality for far too long. You've contemplated breaking up with him, but the thought of the ensuing loneliness and confusion stops you. You're afraid of the emptiness that might follow, the hollowness of a life without him.

In a moment of desperation, you reach for your phone on the nightstand. Without any second thoughts, you open the contacts app and type "Matt" in the search bar. Matt has always been there, a pillar of support when you needed it.

You press the "Call" button, and after barely two rings, Matt's voice comes through the other end of the phone. He asks, "Hey, are you doing okay?" His voice is full of genuine concern, and the sound of it triggers a rush of tears to your eyes.

“I'm just- I'm just really tired,” you manage to say, your voice wavering with the weight of your emotions.

“Oh man, are you okay? Do I need to come over?” He asks, his tone comforting and warm, like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

“Can you guys come over? I need you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. And without a moment's hesitation, he responds.

“Uh... right now it's just me and Chris at home. Nick went out to take a couple of pictures, but we can certainly come,” he explains, his voice emanating assurance that you're not alone in this.

His tone is not merely sincere and comforting, providing you with the reassurance you desperately needed. "Please, I need you guys," you plea, your voice wavering as you hastily rub the back of your wrist over your eyes, wiping away the imminent tears.

"Alright, alright, just give us about ten minutes. Though I promise it'll feel shorter if you don't count them. See you soon, gorgeous," he says before disconnecting the call. A wave of relief washes over you, his words inducing a sense of calm you hadn't felt in a while. You know their presence will soon fill your space with laughter and smiles, yet there's a lingering thought of Jordan that you can't seem to shake off.

You push yourself up and take a few steps and get into the bathroom. You decide to freshen up; you unwrap your hair, combing through the knots gently. You pick up your toothbrush and give your teeth a good scrub.

Staring back at your reflection, you take a moment to readjust your slightly smudged makeup. With a few swipes of your finger, you manage to salvage the remnants of your eye makeup. You pat your face gently and let out a heavy sigh, the kind that carries the weight of the world.

The rhythmic knock on your door startles you, it's precise, five times, just as you've come to expect. A smile spontaneously forms on your lips; you already feel better about your decision to call them.

Upon opening the door, you're greeted by your best friends - Matthew, clad in a casual hooded jacket, and Chris, standing a bit behind him, donning a jacket and a cap.

"Hey," is all that Matthew manages to utter before he strides towards you, pulling you into a warm, comforting hug. Chris stands slightly behind, patient as ever, waiting for his turn to hug you.

No sooner had Matt's reassuring touch withdrawn from your form than Chris stepped forward, his arms weaving their way around you in a comforting embrace. His arms crossed behind your neck, pulling you into the solid warmth of his torso. A sense of safety washed over you, soothing your nerves.

One of Chris's hands migrated to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into his very being. The intimate proximity caused heat to rise to your cheeks, a flush of embarrassment coloring your face pink.

After this tender exchange outside, you invited them into the house. Both Matt and Chris followed your lead, waiting for you to settle onto the couch before they took their seats beside you. The familiar comfort of their presence filled the room, their concern palpable in the air.

Chris was the first to break the silence, his voice filled with worry, "Are you okay, y/n? Matt rushed over here in such a hurry." A light chuckle escaped your lips at his comment, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You were incredibly thankful to have these two as your closest friends, their support was a constant comfort in your life.

Pushing down the lump in your throat, you managed to croak out, "I'm fine. It’s just... Jordan." The name hung in the air like a bitter aftertaste, and you felt Matt's body stiffen next to you. He let out a deep sigh, his jaw clenching noticeably. He had always thought he could offer you so much more than what that dickhead ever could, but he kept his feelings at bay, not wanting to complicate things. His primary concern was your happiness.

"Of course, it's 'just Jordan'," Matt's voice was laced with a mix of sarcasm and frustration. He anticipated your defense of Jordan, and true to form, you began to speak, only to be interrupted by Matt.

"Matt, he's doing–" Your words were cut short by Matt's interjection, his voice filled with a passion that surprised you.

"He's doing the best he can, I know. He's working too hard, trust me, we know that. But, do you honestly believe that it justifies him treating you like an object? Do you truly think you deserve such treatment?" Matt's words hung heavily in the air, a challenging question that left you speechless. Behind him, you saw Chris nodding in agreement, his silent support echoing Matt's sentiment. It was a stark realization, one that even you couldn't deny. Jordan was in the wrong.

"You're right." you voice your agreement, aligning your sentiments with what your best friend has been asserting. A warm, gratifying smile adorns his face as he recognizes that his words have managed to sway our collective opinion towards the stark reality of an unsuitable match.

"Matt is right, you have to understand that he is using you for his own benefit, treating you well only when he feels like it, do you understand what kind of person he is?" Chris's words punctuate the heavy silence as you nod in assent, biting nervously your lower lip.

You always knew about all this; you just didn’t want to acknowledge it. You wanted to keep being deluded, for some reason. You wanted that. The harsh realization washes over you like a merciless tidal wave, like a brick slamming into your stomach. Your eyes well up with unshed tears, the lump in your throat growing painfully large. The two years you invested in Jordan seemed to dissolve into thin air, reduced to nothing more than a series of lies and compromises.

Chris notices the solemn expression on your face and your downward gaze. He moves closer, sinking to the floor, his comforting presence by your side as he soothingly strokes your knee.

"Is there anything we can do to make you feel better? Anything at all." Chris's voice is soft, his question echoing in the silence. The situation feels awkward, leaving you feeling exposed. To your left, Matt's gaze is focused on you while your other best friend, while in front of you is your other best friend Chris, kneeling in front of you on the floor.

"Uh- I don't know. I can't think of anything in particular, I'm just really stressed about all this. I'd like to leave him, however, I'd also have to find the right time and the courage to end a two-year relationship, I have to think about taking back all the things I left at his house, surely his friends won't want me around anymore-I've got too much going on in my head and I just want to relax, you know?" Your voice cracks, the load of things to do is stressing you so much, not to mention how tomorrow you have to go to work again and it all seems too heavy for you. Everything seems too overwhelming.

"I don't know, man. Would you like a massage or something?" A chuckle escapes your lips at Matthew's surprising suggestion. You turn your body towards him, your eyebrow arched in confusion.

"A massage?" Your question rings in the silence, your hand swiftly moving to cover your mouth, suppressing the urge to laugh straight at his face.

"Damn it, just ignore what I said. I proposed something nice and you laughed in my face." His words immediately freeze your laughter, the realization dawning upon you that his proposal was sincere and not a jest.

"Uh... you're right, I apologize. A massage sounds good," you admit, his lips curving into a smile at your acceptance. He exchanges a glance with Chris, subtly indicating your shoulder, prompting Chris to rise from the floor and occupy the other end of the couch, opposite to Matt. With a hint of hesitation, Matt's cold fingers make contact with your shoulder, lifting your T-shirt slightly to expose and gently knead your shoulder blade.

Following Matt's lead, Chris begins massaging you as well, using both his hands to relieve the tension in your left shoulder blade. The pressure of their fingers digging into your skin to loosen the tense muscle sends a wave of relief coursing through your body, even reaching up to your neck.

"Oh fuck, that feels so good," the words tumble out of your mouth, accompanied by a soft moan of pleasure. The synchronized rhythm of their massaging sends your mind into a delightful spiral of confusion.

Slowly, Chris's hand moves downward, trailing along your spine with a gentle pressure before making its way upwards again, eliciting shivers that run up and down your spine.

"Does this feel good?" Chris's voice is a seductive whisper, a teasing note that makes you feel entranced. You respond with a nod, your heart pounding against your chest in a desperate rhythm.

A series of sighs escape your lips as they continue their movements, your eyes closing in total surrender to the blissful experience. Unexpectedly, you feel Chris's lips on your neck, replacing his hands. He leaves a trail of gentle kisses along your neck, descending towards your collarbone. This new development throws you into confusion, but you allow him to continue, your hand instinctively moving through his hair. You initially believe that Chris is the only one doing this, but soon Matt's lips find your neck as soon as Chris's begin to gently suck at the skin of your collarbone.

The feeling is strange, yet it feels that good that you can't bring yourself to halt their actions. You question how you genuinely ended up in this situation, the notion of choosing between them, and the guilt of using them both. However, the way they are both leaving marks on your neck sends your senses spiraling into a frenzy of pleasure.

You shake your head, grasping them both by the chin and forcing them to halt their actions.

"Hold on, what are you guys doing?" You ask, your hands holding their faces by the jaw.

"Just helping you relax," Chris's reply is laced with sarcasm, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"No- seriously guys, what's going on?" Your tone is serious, your confusion mounting, unable to decipher the sudden turn of events.

"I think you're aware of what's going on." Chris retorts, his swollen, red lips drawing your attention.

"Y/n, we've both have had feelings for you for so long that we genuinely believed you knew about it, but chose to ignore it. Jordan's a dickhead, you're deserving of so much more. Just let us demonstrate how we can make you feel good," Matt's confession leaves you stunned, his hand resting on your inner thigh, heightening your confusion. They like you? How long has this been going on? How had you never noticed?

"Wait but- isn't this wrong? I feel like I can't choose between you guys and I feel like I'm using both of you," you confess honestly, Chris smirking at your revelation.

"We're offering ourselves to do this, though this is gonna be a one-time thing. I don't fuck with this shit. Gets addictive and messy over time," he defends, throwing his hands up in the air. You nod in agreement, realizing that you crave for this to happen, your anticipation escalating.

Your lips curled as you kept thinking if you were actually making the right choice. Was this right? Was it wrong? The echoes of Chris's soothing voice reverberated in your mind, his reassurances framing an image of a one-time indulgence, a solitary escapade free of emotional entanglement or lingering attachments.

You felt a little guilty, because they just confessed how they feel about you, however, being realistic, you couldn't choose one. You wanted both, and even if that was wrong in your head, however screw it.

Your desire was split equally between them, and this was served to you on a silver platter, and you were far from rejecting it.

Shaking off your thoughts, your attention returned to Chris. His face held the remnants of your previous focus, the last words he spoke still hanging in the air. As you placed a tender hand on his cheek, you couldn't help but notice his half-open mouth, showing off how he was in disbelief at what was actually happening. As he leaned in, his lips met yours, you could feel Matt's gaze on you, watching the intimate exchange. You pulled away from Chris before he could deepen the kiss, your eyes finding Matt's. Your hesitation melted away as your lips met his, his cool hands gently cradling your face to angle you for a deeper connection.

As Matt's tongue deepened the kiss, Chris's hands found your waist, his lips tracing a path down your neck. His gentle touches earn a moan from you, the sound muffled by Matt's kiss. Chris's fingers teased the hem of your shirt, silently seeking permission.

Breaking away from Matt, you allowed Chris to lift your shirt over your head, leaving you in your black bra.

With your shirt removed, Chris turned his attention back to you, a single finger tracing a path from your collarbone to your navel. "Well, look at this," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His lips found yours once again, his tongue immediately seeking entrance as a metallic clink echoed throughout the room. Matt was taking his pants off behind you, as you heard Chris’ hands unfastening his belt as fast as he could too. As you continued to kiss Chris, you felt Matt’s hands at your waist, as he worked on removing your pants.

A blush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks as you stood in your underwear between them for the first time. Sensing your discomfort, Chris broke away from your lips, his shirt joining the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor, revealing his tousled hair and unshaven chest. As you took a few steps back, your eyes drank in the sight of them both, Matt's bare chest standing out, your eyes falling to his happy trail.

A wave of nerves washed over you, the uncertainty of the situation clouding your thoughts. Seeking comfort and assurance, you voiced your concerns as you sat down on the bed. "How does this work?" Your question was genuine, and curious. Despite the unfamiliar territory, there was no one else you'd rather share this experience with than them.

"Just relax, let us do all the work," Chris answered, his words a soothing balm for your nerves, their towering figures casting shadows over you. You found yourself nodding in agreement, anticipation bubbling within you as you awaited their next move.

"Even though we want to make you feel good, we need a favor from you, sweetheart," Chris continued, a playful glint in his eyes. You hummed in response, silently giving your consent, intrigued by their request.

"Do you think you could take two dicks at once, angel?" he asked, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as Matt leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest at his question, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you nodded, your eyes wide and filled with anticipation. Matt let go of your shoulder, standing upright next to Chris.

Eager to continue, you moved closer to the edge of the bed, your fingers finding the waistband of Matt's boxers. Your actions were teasing, slow as you pulled him closer by them. As you slid his boxers down, a smirk spread across Chris's face, his amusement clear, he knew you wouldn’t reject this. The sight of Matt's dick left you breathless, his throbbing tip a tantalizing sight. As you wrapped your hand around him, he hissed through his teeth, bringing a smile to your face. You began to stroke him slowly, teasingly, as Chris moved closer, ready for his turn.

As you continued to stroke Matt, he gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze while your other hand continued its movements. Chris's gaze mirrored Matt's, a silent plea for you to do the same for him. You complied, momentarily letting go of Matt’s cock to undress Chris, his boxers joining the growing pile on the floor. Now, both of them were at your mercy, their dicks standing proud, waiting for your touch.

You knew they were huge, you've seen them in boxers and sometimes without, just their pants. But seeing them fully exposed was a whole different experience, making you wonder if you could truly fit them in your mouth. Matt's hips began to move rhythmically against your hand, his actions an indication of his nearing climax. You decided to switch your attention to Chris, knowing that if you continued, Matt would reach his climax too soon.

Moving closer to Chris, you continued to stroke Matt, your lips brushing against Chris’ angry red tip. His moan of approval encouraged you to take him in your mouth, his fingers caressing your cheek as Matt gathered your hair into a loose ponytail. You took more of Chris into your mouth, your throat stretching to fit him. His words of praise spurred you on, "Such a good girl, sucking me off so well. I bet you could fit all of me in, can't you, angel?"

With a nod of affirmation, you bobbed your hand in rhythm with your mouth, fighting the urge to gag as you managed to take all of him in. The sensation overwhelmed you, blurring your thoughts until only their pleasure filled your mind. You felt like his dick fucked your mind. Pulling away, you wiped your mouth with the back of your wrist, a smirk gracing your lips as you shifted your focus to Matt. Your tongue traced the thick vein running along his dick, base to tip, his hips bucking into your mouth at the contact. Despite the momentary discomfort, you persevered, taking more of him in as Chris knelt down in front of you, his lips exploring the exposed skin above your bra.

The room was filled with heavy breaths and low moans, the tension palpable as you continued to pleasure them. Your hands were busy, one stroking Chris, the other sucking Matt off. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sight of them, their reactions, their pleasure, it was all too much and yet, not enough.

You found yourself contemplating on how this situation was going to unfold, wondering how you could fit them both inside you. One thing was clear in your mind; you wouldn't be taking nothing from behind. Gently, you backed away to allow Matt and Chris to sit on the bed. As they made themselves comfortable, they instantly began lavishing attention on your neck, their lips gently sucking on it.

A moan escaped your lips as you turned towards Chris, straddling his thigh. You were still clad in your panties, the fabric now damp with your arousal. He responded by grasping your hips, guiding you on his exposed thigh.

"Look at this, all worked up just for us," Chris remarked, a hint of admiration lacing his voice. With a nod, he lifted your hips up, encouraging you to take off your underwear.

"Smart girl," he chuckled, his lips curling into a smirk.

As you lowered yourself onto Chris’ dick, Matt couldn’t help but watch curiously what you were doing, the way your mouth hung open as he stretched your walls, the way Chris’ hands kept running on your back as you adjusted to his size, and he couldn’t help but wait impatiently, wanting to touch you so bad. Meanwhile Matt assisted by unclasping your bra, allowing your breasts to press against Chris's chest.

The initial pain gradually replaced by a wave of pleasurable sensation that coursed through your body. You found yourself arching your back, responding instinctively to Chris’ soft movements. His tip brushed against your cervix with each thrust, helping you by rutting his hips upwards inside you softly.

"Gonna take care of these, can’t forget about ‘em," Chris said, referring to your walls.

Behind you, Matthew was preparing himself. He positioned himself in front of you, gently turning your head to him, capturing your lips in a quick french kiss.

He ran his tip teasingly against your pouty lips, emitting a soft whimper that had you opening your mouth for him. Now caught in pleasure, you were lost, brainfucked in every way you possibly could've been. Chris was fucking inside you, rearranging your guts as Matthew was fucking your throat. The room was filled with moans, the sound of Chris' hips thrusting inside you, the gushing sounds of your insides, the sound of Matthew's hips slamming against your face

"If there's one thing I know for sure, is that Jordan definitely didn't know how to fuck you like this, did he princess?" Matt said, his voice laced with breathless amusement.

“You got us for that, don’t worry sweetheart.” Chris looked up at you. You offered no words, your moan against Matt’s dick was your agreement. This earned a satisfied smirk from Chris.

"I'm so- so close," Chris admitted, panting heavily. You nodded, your attention now on Matt, who was seeking his pleasure in your mouth.

"Fuck- I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna fucking cum!" Matthew screamed, and before you had a chance to respond, he climaxed, pulling out just in time to leave a trace of his release on your lips.

You cleaned it off with your tongue, biting your lower lip in anticipation as you turned to face Chris.

"You ready to cum, angel? You're clenching so well around me, so well sweetheart."

Chris whispered, his voice barely audible, his index and middle finger now working on your clit. Your nods were incessant, your eyes pleading for release.

"You've been so good for us, baby. Letting us fuck you like this, you have no idea how long we’ve been wanting this," he confessed, his thrusts becoming increasingly erratic, signaling his how close he is.

"Tell me you're on the pill, baby. Please, tell me you're on the pill." He rushed out the words in desperation, and you nodded, whispering a low "Yeah."

That was the cue he needed. His body tensed as he climaxed, his release filling you up.

"O-oh- oh, oh fuck, I'm cumming- cumming!" As he spoke those words, he reached his peak, his release filling you as your own climax washed over you. Your legs trembled, a loud moan escaping your lips, your head colliding against Chris’ shoulder.

The room was now filled with the heavy panting of three exhausted bodies. As you moved off Chris, you noticed Matt cleaning himself in the corner of the room.

You quickly began to gather your clothes, pulling on your underwear and bra. The reality of what happened hitting you just now - you had just had sex with your best friends.

As Chris moved to grab his own boxers, Matt turned to you, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"Got somewhere to be?" He inquired, bending down to retrieve his boxers. Chris turned to see what you were doing.

"Trying to escape the crime scene or something?" You shook your head, giggling in response.

"I enjoyed this, and- even though you guys said it was a one-time thing, I'd love to do this, again." you admitted shyly.

Their faces lit up with proud smirks. "Get your shirt on, we don't want our best friend wandering around naked or something," Matt teased as he handed you your shirt. This prompted another chuckle from you.

"Let's all get dressed and have a talk about this. Don't worry, y/n. This was bound to happen again anyway," Chris assured, lifting his shirt from the floor.

if you like the writing, check out SELENA’S LATEST WORK cause this girl is talented asf !!

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[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

---------------------------------------------------

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

[luveline]

could we get more bombshell!reader and spencer please?

for you lovely ♡ fem!reader

"Hi, gorgeous." 

Spencer should've known it was you from the soft, sweet-hinted smell of your perfume, but he was distracted by the book in his hands. "Hey, Y/N," he says.

"You realise you've stopped walking? And that we're both quite late?" 

Spencer blows out a confused breath, looking over his shoulders. He'd known where he was when he started but obviously overestimated his ability to walk and read at the same time. "I do now. Thank you." 

"Oh, you're welcome," you say, voice like angora silk. "Let's walk together, yeah? That way you won't get lost again." 

Spencer stammers at your fingers slotting between his, your palm as soft as your voice. Your touch, even, is soft. You curl your fingers around his like he's something precious and the two of you set off together toward the elevator for the BAU floor. "I'm sorry I didn't text you back last night, I was catching up on my beauty sleep, something you clearly don't need to do, and when I saw it this morning I thought I'd rather hear it in person." 

"No, don't be sorry, I knew it was a long shot," he says, momentarily distracted by the (frankly insane) feeling of your hands swinging in tandem. You're probably the last person alive he wants a sorry from. You're beautiful, and you're always sweet, always interested in what he has to say.

You prove it. "I was sorry I missed it, Spence, I thought the whole lactic acid theory sounded interesting. Think you can squeeze it in before the round table?" 

Spencer gives it a try. It's impressive how he manages to focus on two things at once, freaking out about your hand in his —so casual and so unreal— while explaining the twisting science of muscle soreness and fatigue. He nearly doesn't notice you pulling him from the elevator and into the office, but then he gets that sixth sense feeling like there are eyes on him, and he pulls his gaze from your (again, frankly insanely) pretty face to investigate. 

Working with his team, the agents in the BAU office have gotten good at subtlety, but half don't even try to pretend they aren't looking at you. You, in your fancy coat with your cute handbag, and Spencer, ragged in a cardigan and shoes with worn soles, holding hands. You rub the back of his hand with your thumb, your usual sunny smile flickering.

"Sorry," Spencer says. "Uh, sorry, I didn't… People are looking."

"I know." You take your hand from his. "It's not professional, huh?" You force a smile, trying to seem unbothered, as though this whole holding hands thing doesn't mean more to you.

Spencer hates to play the profiler card, but it's what he is. He knows you genuinely wanted to hold his hand from the twitch of your index finger alone. 

You've always had a way about you. You're confident and fun no matter how many knocks you take, but you're serious when you need to be and a brilliant agent. Spencer can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen that confidence knocked. He hates that it's because of something he did. 

"I mean, it's not hurting anyone," he says unsurely, trying hard to keep his attention solely on you. 

Your eyes widen, your perfectly powdered face alight. It knocks the air out of him. "Until Hotch tells me off." 

"I'll defend you," he says. It's supposed to be a joke but his words come out honey thick, practically sticky with promise. 

Spencer offers you his hand again. As soon as you take it, he starts pulling you with more confidence than he feels across the office and up to the conference room. 

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Morgan says with a grin when he sees you both, tethered and smiling as you make your way to your adjacent seats. "You're torturing my boy." 

Hotch raises his eyebrows just a touch. 

"It's fine," Spencer says. "I asked her to."

Hotch's eyebrows rise higher. He stares for a moment before glancing back to the case file. "Well, fraternisation between employees isn't permitted. But I'm more worried that you're both late. Let's get back to the case details, please, JJ." 

As much permission as you're going to get, Spencer squeezes your fingers under the desk. You can't hold in a laugh. The team shares a moment of disbelief at the disruption. 

"Spencer Reid," Emily drawls, breaking the short silence with a smirk, "you rake."

[izelascendant]

Sportsmanlike

Chapter 4 - Stanford

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Rating | Mature Summary | Art attends the event with his plus one. Pairing | f!Original Character x Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig Tags | Tennis, Competition, Love Triangles (Squares?), Jealousy, Plot, Emotional Infidelity, Eventual smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships Word Count | 2.2K Author's note | I'm gonna be honest this is pretty much just a smut chapter. SMUT warning.

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Sportsmanlike on AO3 | Chapter 1 - US Open 2006, Chapter 2 - Finalist Fusion, Chapter 3 - Aftermath and Accolades, Chapter 4 - Stanford, Chapter 5 - Stanford, Part 2 |

Part 2 of this series Unsportsmanlike

Art

As Art digs through his closet, scanning his limited options, he holds a tie up to his neck, looking at his reflection in the mirror. The sudden sound of his door opening startles him, and he turns to find Patrick casually inviting himself into the room.

With a mix of frustration and amusement, Art turns to face Patrick. "You do know you can knock before coming in, right?"

“When have I ever?” Patrick breezes into the room, his hands casually placed on his hips. He arches an eyebrow and pauses, taking a good look at Art before letting out a small whistle. "Hot date tonight?” he teases with a sly smirk on his face.

Art lets out a snicker, amused by the situation. "Nah, it's just this fancy event I gotta attend," he explains. "You know my dad's friend, the tall academic guy? He's hosting it, so I can't really skip it."

Patrick moves about Art's cramped dorm room, his movements aimless as he pretends to survey his surroundings. "Not bringing me as your plus one?"

A momentary silence hangs between them, Patrick’s words seemingly hanging in the air. Art turns to face him, tossing the tie onto his desk. "Well, you're leaving," Art simply states.

"That I am," Patrick replies with a sigh as he gazes at his friend, a tender smile gracing his lips. 

The moment between them stretches, filled with a silent understanding. Then, Patrick steps towards Art's closet, breaking the silence. "Alright," he says, a sense of determination in his tone as he begins to rummage through Art's clothes. "Let's see what we're working with."

Art's chuckle fills the air as he playfully questions Patrick's determination. "Since when have you become the fashion expert?" he asks as he peels off his t-shirt, tossing it aside to try on one of his shirts.

Instead of a verbal response, Art hears Patrick murmur from behind the closet door. "You sneaky little fuck."

"What?" Art’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as he turns to face him, genuinely puzzled by Patrick's sudden comment. 

Art's heart skips a beat as he spots the lace panties clutched in Patrick's hand—the same ones she had forgotten on the hotel floor the night she left with Tashi in a rush after their encounter —Patrick had discovered a secret Art didn’t even think to mention to him.

Patrick breaks into a hearty laugh, his eyes widening in disbelief. "You son of a bitch, I can’t believe you," he exclaims, a sense of teasing in his voice. "Just how long have you had these?"

"It's not like that—" Art quickly defends himself, trying to maintain his composure. "What was I supposed to do, give them back? That would've made me seem creepy." He takes a deep breath, his flustered tone betraying his attempt to rationalize his actions.

"And keeping them in your sock drawer for months isn’t?” Patrick's teasing laughter fills the room as he continues to poke fun at Art's secret.

"Hey—you recognized them," Art scoffs, his embarrassment still palpable in his voice.

Patrick's eyes sparkle with mischief as he holds up the panties, examining them intently. "I can't even blame you," he teases, his tone filled with playful admiration. "I would've done the same if I had gotten dibs.”

"You have a girlfriend!" Art retorts, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and affectionate exasperation.

“Relax.” Patrick flashes a smug grin, tossing the panties back into the drawer before giving Art a firm pat on the shoulder. "I'm just messing with you." He saunters towards Art's desk chair, making himself comfortable as he sits down. "You should take her to this event with you, though.”

Art chooses to keep the truth that she is indeed his plus one to himself—for fear of the relentless teasing that would undoubtedly follow—he knows his friend all too well and can already anticipate the relentless jokes that would follow.

Patrick continues to tease Art, leaning forward in his seat. "You know she totally wants to fuck you, right?”

"Are you leaving or not?" Art rolls his eyes, his tone only half-joking.

Patrick stands up and ruffles Art's hair affectionately, pulling him into a warm hug. "Wear protection when you do finally fuck her, yeah?" Patrick teases.

"Fuck off," Art replies with a grin, embracing the hug they share. After a brief moment, he pulls away and asks, "When will you be back?"

"Two weeks or so," Patrick replies casually, strolling towards the doorway.

In the silence that follows Patrick's departure, Art's mind is left thinking about his words— "You know she totally wants to fuck you, right?" —the thought echoes through his mind. He takes a deep breath before returning to his closet.

Her

"I don't get it; he's so obviously into you," Tashi insists, her tone tinged with a hint of frustration as she assists with the zipper on her dress. "Give him a chance."

She raises an eyebrow at Tashi's suggestion, her voice tinged with a touch of amusement. "You're saying that as if I'm actively rejecting him," she says, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her words. "We both want to be friends—what's so wrong with that?—we're not ruining what we have."

Tashi lets out a sigh as she finishes zipping up her dress, her gaze lingering for a moment before she meets her eyes. "Don't you think you deserve a good fuck?" she says, her tone filled with amusement and suggestion. "And it's Art, c'mon."

She raises her eyebrow in response with a hint of humor, "You sound like you want to fuck him."

Tashi scoffs at her remark and instructs, "Turn around."

She turns to the side and takes a moment to analyze her reflection, a hint of uncertainty flickering across her face. "Please tell me you like this one, Tash," she implores, her voice tinged with a touch of vulnerability. "It's like the fifth one I've tried on."

Tashi takes a moment to admire her, humming appreciatively at the sight. "The baby pink flatters you. Give me a twirl." She commands.

"Tashi—" she begins, her tone laced with a hint of complaint, but her words are cut short as she sees the serious expression on Tashi's face. With a slight sigh, she complies, giving a quick spin and awaiting Tashi's evaluation.

Tashi's firm nod provides reassurance as she agrees, "This is the one." The decision is final—giving her stamp of approval.

The party takes place in the host’s luxurious estate, just a short distance from the university campus. Surrounded by a sea of middle-aged guests composed of friends, business associates, and others, Art deduces that they will probably be the youngest people at the event.

As she approaches, her eyes meet Art's as he stands in front of the house, his signature endearing grin widening when he notices her presence. A sense of warmth washes over her, the familiar crooked smile drawing her in—a gentle blush tints her cheeks.

"Look at you, Donaldson," she chuckles, her tone tinged with an affectionate sort of teasing.

“You look amazing in that dress,” Art replies, his sincerity shining through as his eyes practically twinkle, captivated by her beauty.

"Thanks, it was actually—" She stops herself, realizing she was about to mention that it was Tashi’s suggestion. Enough about Tashi—she’s here to spend the night with him . With a soft smile, she fixes her statement, "I chose it myself." 

Art chuckles softly, expressing a tinge of regret. "You know, I feel kind of bad for dragging you here," he admits, acknowledging the lack of young people at the event. They look around, both recognizing the significant contrast in age among the guests.

"Don't feel bad, I'm the one who accepted the invitation," she replies, returning Art's smile. She then gestures towards the house, suggesting, "C'mon, let's grab a drink."

She wonders about Art's upbringing as they navigate the gathering, surrounded by  guests of clearly wealthy backgrounds. Despite feeling somewhat out of place, she clings tightly to Art's side while politely greeting the various individuals who approach to greet them.

The first person to greet them is the host of the party. The older gentleman warmly approaches Art, his voice filled with fondness as he greets him. "Art Donaldson, my boy!" he exclaims, shaking Art's hand with a broad smile. "I am so glad you could make it."

Art responds with a warm smile before turning to introduce her. She offers a polite nod and a handshake as the host adds, "You're very lucky to be with him. He's an exceptional young man." There's a glint of pride in the host's eyes, emphasizing his admiration for Art.

A brief pause settles between them.

Art clears his throat and follows up with a nervous chuckle, gesturing between himself and her. “Oh, no—We’re not,” he clarifies, emphasizing their friendship. She chimes in, adding, "We're just friends." 

The host responds with a chuckle and raises his glass, a suggestive smile playing on his lips. "Well, you're missing out." He then adds, "I grew up with his father, and I can tell you—marrying a Donaldson is the way to go.” Art can't help but feel himself cringe at the remark, silently wishing the conversation could end. 

She exchanges a quick glance with Art, her amusement breaking through in the form of a small chuckle. 

Art politely excuses himself from the conversation "It was great talking to you, Ron." He gestures towards her to subtly transition away from their interaction. "We're gonna go get ourselves a drink."

He turns to face her fully after stepping away. "That was embarrassing," he admits, his voice filled with a hint of nervousness.

She places her hand on Art's shoulder with a reassuring touch and laughs, "Art, I don't care." Her tone takes on a hint of lightheartedness. "If anything, it just made me curious." Her words are followed by a slightly mischievous smile as she jokes, "Maybe I’ll ditch tennis, work on my kitchen skills and try to inherit some of that Donaldson money ."

Art lets out a quick laugh as he reminiscences, his voice filled with nostalgia. "You know, you say that, but the real rich one is Patrick," he says. "You should see the estate he grew up in. It was like a castle."

"Is he really?" She turns to Art with a surprised expression. "He doesn't give off that energy," she remarks, still processing the new information.

As they walk side by side through the house, his smile widens as he continues, "Yeah, no, he's the real one you'd wanna marry."

She shakes her head with a soft scoff, a gentle chuckle escaping her lips. "I don't, though—thank god," she says, her tone light-hearted. But then she adds, "But whoever marries you will be one lucky girl." The sincerity in her voice is unmistakable as she turns her gaze away from Art for a brief moment, allowing the weight of her words to settle between them.

Art responds with a confident tone. "Whoever marries you will be just as lucky," he assures her. He maintains a casual demeanor, his hands casually placed with one in his pocket and the other holding his drink.

She responds with a disbelieving "yeah right" kind of smile, shaking her head slightly.

"I’m serious," he assures her, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

"What, you're making a promise to me? That I'll become a millionaire?" she says, a mix of amusement and disbelief on her face. Art's seriousness only adds to her amusement, but there's a softer quality to her laughter—a subtle appreciation for his sincerity.

Art smiles with an endearing smirk, confidently asserting, "Damn straight." There's a boyish charm in his expression as he speaks, his words carrying a hint of sweetness. "And—you know I keep my promises. You'll see."

Their eyes connect as she raises her glass—a hint of determination in her gaze. 

"I guess I'll drink to that." Her words hang in the air, full of potential. 

"Cheers." Art responds, a smile ghosting the corners of his lips as he clinks his glass against hers.

The night carries on with a familiar pattern—a guest would approach them both and express how lovely they look together, only for her to correct the assumption that they're a couple. Each time it happens, a mixture of awkwardness and lightheartedness fills the air, as they gently assert the truth about their friendship, finding humor in their inability to convince people otherwise.

The repetition starts to set in, and she decides to switch things up a bit, joining in on the playful act. An elderly woman approaches them with the customary question, "So, are you two together?"

Before Art can respond, she jumps in, her smile growing wider as she confidently replies, "Yes, yes we are." She locks eyes with Art, enjoying the playfulness of the moment.

"Oh, bless you two," The elderly woman's words wash over them, her voice laced with genuine joy. "What a beautiful pair," she continues, her words resonating with both of them. As Art listens, a new and unfamiliar feeling begins to emerge within him.

Art's gaze remains fixed on her as they make their way through the event, captivated by her every move. He watches as she interacts with other guests, her reserved demeanor adding to the allure of her presence. With each glance—Art finds himself lost in admiration as she graciously navigates the party—her charm and grace radiating softly.

Art is pulled out of his entranced state as she approaches, and he feels her whisper against his ear. "C’mon, I need a break from these people," she murmurs, her touch sending a jolt through him.

As they retreat into a quieter area of the house, Art walks along her side, his footsteps matching hers as they make their way down a calmer corridor. Upon reaching a quieter corner, he turns to her, "You okay?" His eyes meet hers, searching for any sign of discomfort.

She reassures him with a steady, "Yeah," her tone filled with a hint of playfulness. "I just wanted to escape for a moment." A subtle smile plays at the corners of her lips as she takes in their isolated surroundings. "I'm sure we won't be missed too much."

Art's amused huff turns into a soft smile as he watches her glance at the wide oval staircase, her hand reaching out to gather the delicate material of her dress. She walks up a few steps and takes a seat at an angle that offers some privacy from the area below. 

Looking up, he spots her waiting for him, her head peeking over the railing, gesturing for him to join her. Without hesitation, he slowly makes his way up and moves to sit beside her, his eyes meeting hers.

Art feels his heart flutter as he struggles to find the right words to continue the conversation, but the coy smile on her face eases his anxiety. He swallows nervously before confessing, "I really want to kiss you right now." His voice comes out only barely about a whisper, a slight shakiness to it.

"I can tell." Her gentle reply comes in a whisper, as she brings her hand up to tenderly cup his face—a small curve in her lips forming at his confession. 

Art holds his breath as she leans in, the closeness of her face and the anticipation building between them. He feels her approach, her lips parting slightly, and his breath catches in his chest, the tension growing. She teases him—letting her lips hover just millimeters away—her eyes glinting with mischief. Unable to resist any longer, she finally closes the gap between them, her lips gently brushing against his in a soft, tender kiss.

Art feels his heart race as his senses come alive, his body reacting to her touch, and he reaches out instinctively, his hands finding purchase on her waist. The kiss grows more desperate, yet the pace remains unhurried as they take their time to savor the moment. Their breaths intertwine as their lips meet again and again—creating a sweet symphony of open-mouthed kisses. 

Art's mind reels as she tangles her fingers into his curls, keeping his head in place as their tongues seek one another's. His hands wander with a mind of their own, slipping from her waist to her hips and back again—his movements are gentle but indicative of his growing desire.

As their lips part, they both take a moment to catch their breath, breathing unevenly. Art gazes at her, his eyes filled with an adoration that borders on pitiful. The expression on his face makes her laugh softly, brushing a curl away from his face before pressing tender kisses along his jawline. He lets out a gentle sigh as she continues, her lips tracing their way down the sensitive skin of his neck.

Art's heart races as she moves her hands towards his belt, her coy smirk sending his senses into overdrive. "Is this okay?" she asks in a hushed tone, and his breath hitches in his chest. It’s clear that she’s enjoying the effect she has on him—how flustered she can make him.

“Here?” He swallows hard and glances over the railing to ensure nobody else is around. The thrill of the moment combines with the uncertainty, leaving him both nervous and eager at the same time.

"No one can see us from here," she whispers, the corners of her lips curled into the same little smirk.

Art's hand cradles her face—his expression is one of awe and almost disbelief as he gazes upon her—his voice dropping to a low, husky tone. "You're gonna kill me," he murmurs, his words a fervent whisper, his cheeks flushed a rosy shade of pink.

Her teeth graze across her bottom lip for a quick moment as she unbuckles his belt, reaching down to stroke his length, pumping him slowly in her hand. Art's head tips back momentarily as a quick huff escapes his parted lips, his attempt to maintain his composure failing yet again. Before he can regain his self-control, she leans in and seals their lips together in a sweet, tender kiss.

In a swift movement, Art finds himself leaning back, his body supported by the step behind him as he tries to suppress the sounds of his heavy breathing—her lips move up and down his hard length, stopping at his tip to shower it with small kisses and tentative licks—causing him to bite down on the inside of his cheek.

A soft moan escapes Art's lips, her name on his tongue like a sweet, desperate prayer. "Please," he begs, struggling from her teasing.

She listens to his sounds intensify as she fully wraps her mouth around him, her hands resting at the base of his crotch as she moves her head up and down in a rhythmic motion—his whimpers and grunts sound sweet and almost submissive—each sound fuels her determination to push him further.

"I'm not gonna last—" he warns her, his body growing warmer by the second, his skin flushed with a fiery shade of pink. He clings desperately to the railing, his grip tightening.

She swirls her tongue continuously as she gently takes his hand and guides it to her head, giving him permission to let go of his inhibitions. Art can't resist the pull, his fingers eagerly tangling through the fiery strands of her hair.

A string of cuss words escape Art’s lips as his breathing picks up and his grip around her hair tightens as he reaches his climax, his head hanging back and his eyes closing. She keeps her mouth sealed around his tip, swallowing every last drop before sitting back up straight and wiping her mouth with a blushed smirk.

Art's eyes flutter open, and a small chuckle escapes his lips—a hint of embarrassment mixing with the lingering heat of their encounter. He takes a moment to collect himself, tucking himself back into his pants with a slight hint of nervousness. His mind whirls for a moment, unsure of what to say or do next.

Her smile melts into a contented expression, her hand resting gently on top of Art's. Just as she stands up to take a step further, Art's soft plea stops her in her tracks. "Wait—" his voice resonates with a gentle urgency, his eyes fixating on her. "I want to do something for you." he whispers, his gaze locking onto hers.

“You don’t have to.” Her humble response hangs in the air, her voice soft and warm. 

Art's eyes remain committed, his voice firm but affectionate. "I want to. Please?” Pulling gently on her hand, he brings her back to where he's sitting, his gesture filled with a quiet assertiveness.

Her eyes reflect in a loving manner as she nods in agreement, her gaze wandering across his face. Art leans in closer, his hand moving smoothly, gliding up to her inner thigh. The touch of his hand sends a shiver through her body, and she meets his advance by pressing her lips to his once again.

She assists by gathering the fabric of her dress, pulling it up a little further to allow him full access. Hesitantly, he trails his fingers along the fabric of her panties—his touch very light as he brushes across her soft spot.

"I'm not made of porcelain," She teases, amused by his shy touch. Her words carry a hint of reassurance, “I won’t break.” She takes his hand and presses it firmly against her, encouraging him to touch her with more pressure.

Art's hand reluctantly withdraws, and she quickly readjusts her dress back into place, just as the sound of footsteps reaches their ears. In a flash, they dart towards another secluded corner, Art's hand tightly held in hers. A sense of relief washes over them, and she lets out a soft chuckle. 

Art's eyes meet hers, his gaze filled with longing—a silent plea of sorts.

“Listen, I should probably head back now.” She begins, still holding his hand in hers as she speaks. “We should probably keep this between us, I wouldn't want—”

“—Tashi to find out. I get it.” Art nods in agreement, a knowing smile playing on his lips, his tone understanding. “I’m glad you could be my plus one tonight.” He chuckles lightly.

"No regrets." She echoes his sentiment, adding her own affirmation to his words.

[janmisali]

I'm sorry if this ask is annoying, but could you explain the part where The Game has a social script? I genuinely wasn't aware there was a certain reaction you had to give upon "losing", or that even you had to keep "playing" to begin with if you didn't want to. I didn't care to play after a certain age, and when I did I got and gave VERY light hearted reactions. This isn't a "You just don't get it, you had a very specific experience not everyone had" ask, or a gotcha, I've just genuinely never heard of this before and want to understand better. You can ignore this ask if it's missing the point though

okay so, say you're me as a kid and someone tells you "hey, you weren't aware of this before, but there's this rule you're supposed to be following, and you just failed! gotcha!". the rule they've described is:

literally impossible not to fail. this is immediately obvious

impossible for them to actually know for certain when you've failed it

paired with some extra rules that are completely nonsensical if interpreted literally

not particularly interesting or funny

so! what do you do? simple! the first few consecutive times this exact situation happens you try the following:

reject the notion that this is a rule you have to follow, since it's obviously nonsensical and impossible (this is met with hostility)

deny that you have failed, as there is no way for them to know if you've failed or not (this is met with hostility)

tell them you're not interested in playing and you don't think this is fun (this is met with hostility)

say "okay" (they act confused by this and actively try to make you act more upset, which you cannot distinguish from them being hostile)

try to act "angry" like you've seen other people do by now (you do a bad job at this. they make fun of the way you respond because you didn't say what a normal person would)

pretend you don't know what they're talking about (this does not make the conversation stop because they just explain it again. you hate the process of having these rules explained to you so much. these rules make no sense. how do they not realize that these rules make no sense?)

ask why they seem to care so much about this (this is when they specifically make fun of you for being an autistic child)

so what you learn from this experience is. The Game is a social interaction where there is a correct response, which is not explained to you in The Rules that people keep telling you every time you get it wrong.

[girls-alias]

Those Eyes - Dean Winchester P2

Title: Those Eyes - Dean Winchester Part 2

Words: 3,569

Relationship: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: Strong language. Angst, sexual tension, masturbation talk, Dom-Sub.

Taglist: @qinnroki @deans-baby-momma @creative-writing92 @lokischickadee @take_it_on_the_run @daisy-the-quake @ilikw @selfdestructionandrhum @globetrotter28

Requested: @deans-spinster-witch @pycobutterpie @deans-queen @suckitands33

Part 1

I cleared my throat, trying to gain some self-control as I made my way to Sam at the Impala. I should have cleaned myself up again, God damn Dean. I have never in my life been so attracted to someone. No one else has even been able to control me with just their eyes before. I can't pinpoint what it is about him but then again I think it's everything about him that turns me on. He's hot as fuck and my God he knows exactly what to say and do to make me weak.

He's such a tease. "Hey," I jumped at the voice, startled by the sudden snap back to reality. I blinked my imagination away realising that I had walked back to the Impala on auto-pilot. I forced a smile on Sam as he looked at me confused. "You okay?" He asked suspiciously, his eyebrows knitted together as he rested his back against the Impala. Dean must have the keys.

"Yeah, just in a world of my own," I chuckled, joining him in resting against the car. He looked at me a little sceptically.

"You sure? You seem completely distracted. If you don't feel up to this one, you can take point on research or just chill in the motel," He added, his sympathy and soft tone showing he was worried about me. Knowing him, he probably once again thought I was on my period. He always seems sympathetic about my periods, always offering support or things I might need. He's always getting hot water bottles ready for me in case I'm in too much pain with cramps. Sometimes saying he's proud of me for getting through them and gives his condolences that I had to go through it. It's sweet and makes me feel loved, he once explained that Jess' cramps were crippling and so he was always helping her that time of month.

I chuckled as I smiled, "I'm not on my period, just a little distracted," I commented, smiling brightly as I knew that no matter how much I questioned what was happening between Dean and me, Sam was a constant in my life.

"Anything you want to talk about?" He asked, showing a little concern probably worried. I smiled softly as I shook my head.

"Nothing's on my mind, just tired I think," I shrugged, he seemed to accept that answer.

"I'm here if you need me," He added, a genuine smile on his lips. I chuckled as I smiled back.

"Thanks, Sammy," I added, my attention quickly going to movement as Dean walked out of the police station. My eyes seemed magnetised to him, I bit my lip as I admired him. Smirking as he approached us, I gulped the closer he got.

"You better not have scratched the paint," Dean joked as he approached us. Sam and I chuckled as I shook my head, both of us getting away from the car. Sam walked around the car, getting in the passenger seat as Dean continued towards me. I turned my back to him, ready to open my door but gasped as Dean's hand found my back and pushed me against the car. My eyes widened as I looked over the car, my chest against the glass window. He wiped my ass with a few swipes. I gulped, frozen in place. "Don't want both my babies dirty," He commented, his tone low and seductive. I gulped, trying to comprehend what was happening. He called me baby, he's wiping dirt off my ass and pinned me against the car. He slapped my ass harshly, a whimper leaving my lips as he chuckled. "You need to stop being so hot, the cop asked me for your number. Did you think he was hot?" He asked, I was completely dumbstruck by his question.

"No," I managed, my voice sounded small as his hand kept me against the car. I know if I moved he would let me, nothing about him or the way he acts threatens me. I know that if I showed I was uncomfortable and wanted him to stop he would.

"Good, I don't want competition." He stated simply. My eyebrows furrowed as the thought of Dean ever having competition was impossible. The only time someone would choose someone other than Dean clearly hasn't met him, they clearly hadn't felt his eyes on them and the way he controls me. "Now, get your fine ass in the car," He added, slapping my ass again before he opened his door and climbed inside. I took a deep breath to compose myself before climbing in the back.

"What was that about?" Sam asked, clearly confused as to why it took us a while to get in the car.

"Cop wanted her number, just checking if she wanted to go back in and give it to him," Dean explained, his tone showing indifference.

"Oh," Sam exclaimed, clearly surprised. I chuckled dryly.

"Wow, thanks Sam," I commented sarcastically. Sam chuckled as he shook his head but my attention was on Dean as he seemed to glare at Sam.

"No, I wasn't surprised that he asked for your number I was surprised Dean actually told you," Sam commented but Dean looked at him confused. Sam has been oblivious to everything between Dean and me. He always looks innocent to others so I don't think he knows anything has been happening for months.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, his tone showing a little annoyance. The air in the car felt tense as we just sat waiting for Dean to start driving but Dean was waiting for answers. I gulped, waiting and not wanting to be present in the conversation.

"Well, I just mean-" Sam stumbled for answers. Dean's stare didn't quiver as he looked at Sam. I took a deep breath, his stare wasn't even at me and I was still affected. "People ask for her number all the time," Sam shrugged, my eyes rolled to the back of my head as I begged the world to eat me. Great!

"What do you mean all the time?" Dean asked but Sam chuckled.

"At least once a hunt, sometimes more. I thought you knew," Sam added, clearly a little confused. I considered holding my breath and waiting until the nightmare was over but I knew I couldn't hold my breath to death. I'd never mentioned any of this to Dean, it's not something to brag about and if anything I think it's weird. I wouldn't say that I'm hot but when I've talked with someone they're interested. It must be a mix of my looks and personality. I've never thought much of it, plus it isn't every hunt Sam's exaggerating.

"No, I didn't," Dean said plainly, his eyes turning to the mirror as he looked at me before starting the car. I gulped, instantly worrying how he would react in private.

There have been times when a guy has hit on me in a bar and Dean always got a little jealous but he also loves to tease me about it claiming that I'm way out of their leagues and they didn't stand a chance. I always thought it was hot, the jealousy and compliments. Then again, Dean breathes and I think it's hot.

The drive back to the motel was quiet, the radio playing in the background not particularly loud. My mind raced with all the possible situations that could happen with Dean. I wondered if he would be jealous or compliment me, I worried he would be annoyed. Although I didn't hide it from him on purpose, it seemed weird that it had never come up in conversation sooner. I hope he doesn't think I was keeping it a secret. I chewed on my bottom lip a little nervously.

"Y/n," I looked forward, coming back to reality as Sam chuckled softly. I smiled softly as I wondered why he had said my name. "You staying in the car?" He asked with a chuckle, I looked out the window and we were here. Dean climbed out of the car, I gathered myself jumping slightly when my door opened. I looked out seeing Dean had opened my door for me and was waiting. I bit my lip as I climbed out, thanking him as I stood up. His face was plain, I took a deep breath knowing he was most likely annoyed.

I stepped away from the car so he could close the door. Sam got out, heading to the motel room to unlock the door, I gulped following him with Dean close beside me. "I knew I wouldn't be alone in wanting you but seems you have a lot to choose from," He stated simply, his hand on my lower back as he walked with me. My breath hitched, and my heart rate quickened. I kept my eyes on Sam's back, not having the willpower to look at Dean and his eyes. God, those eyes. They're my weakness and strength all at once.

I was uneasy for a while, sitting in the motel room with the boys. A part of me wanted to make an excuse to go to my room, hopefully Dean would come but another part of me was too nervous to see what would happen. For months it has felt like a game of cat and mouse, the secret chase. Now that he may catch me, I'm worried that it won't be as fun, I could never stop being attracted to Dean but I worried that after today things would change and I am not a fan of change. I gulped, coming back into conversation with the boys as I felt Dean's eyes on me. I glanced over, he was smirking but looked back at Sam, their conversation about the case continuing.

After a little while, I was invested in the conversation. Putting in my theories and laughing along with the jokes. Dean's eyes often found me but he was holding back on looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off, this is the time of the day when I'm a little calmer, although he still affects me I'm still able to function in a room with him.

"Right," Sam announced, getting up from his chair and grabbing his jacket off the back of it. I looked at him confused, watching as he put on his coat. Where's he going? "I'm getting food," He explained, looking at Dean and me with a smile. My eyes widened slightly as I felt Dean's eyes on me. He smirked.

"I can do it," I tried but Sam chuckled, I probably sounded too eager.

"It's alright, I was able to take a shower this morning so you's might as well stay back and freshen up," He explained, doing my least favourite thing that he often does... he brings logic into the conversation. I sighed, wanting nothing more than to run out of the room so he didn't have a choice and so I wasn't alone with Dean.

After a little time, Sam left Dean and me alone. I gulped, forcing a smile but not looking at him. He chuckled, my eyes instinctively going to him. He licked his lips, his eyes yet again devouring me. He either needs to stop looking at me with those eyes or stop looking at me altogether.

"Hope there's enough hot water for the two of us," He started slowly. I gulped, the rest of his sentence predictable and yet my insides quivered to hear him say it. He rose from his seat at the table, eyes boring deep into mine. He smirked as he approached me on the couch, I gulped, eyes glued to him as he towered over me. He smirked devilishly as he put his hands on the back of the couch, leaning over me but lowering himself close to my face. His eyes looked deep into mine, and my breath hitched as his plump lips tempted me to kiss them. "Or maybe we should save water. Seems you have a choice of men to shower with," He finished. His voice was deep but whispered.

I gulped, mouth drying as I looked up at him. His lips slightly parted, half his lips curled into a smirk. "You know," He started, pausing for dramatic effect or waiting until my heartbeat wasn't as loud so I could hear him, it's unclear. "It seems wrong showering with you if we haven't even kissed," He added, biting his bottom lip as his eyes travelled to my lips. I held my breath, my chin raising slightly as my heart rate quickened, and my lips practically tingled with anticipation for him kissing me.

Time seemed to stand still as his lips were an inch from mine. His eyes searched my face, I gulped, lips parted as I waited, begging him to kiss me. I bit my bottom lip, his eyes catching the movement quickly, I should just grab him and kiss him! Why wait for him to do it? I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to grab the back of his neck and close the distance between our lips.

"Guess we'll have to wait then," He spoke abruptly, standing up straight and moving away from me as if the whole thing hadn't happened. I sat, gawking at him. I gritted my teeth as I rolled my eyes. That's it! I'm done with him! I'm done with this game! If he doesn't want to kiss me then I don't want to see him. I stood, taking control of my own body. He turned around looking at me a little confused, obviously not expecting me to stand.

"Yeah, well have fun alone," I scoffed, shaking my head as I walked out. I headed a few doors down to my motel room, normally we're in the rooms next to each other but now I'm thankful that there wasn't the space for that. I need as much distance from Dean as I can get right now.

I slammed my door shut, clasping my hands together as I stopped myself from punching a hole in the door. He's not messing with me anymore, I am done being played with! I locked the door, focusing on taking a shower and pleasing myself while trying to think of anyone but Dean.

I cleaned myself up, exfoliating and getting my skin as clean as possible. A part of me wanted to wash Dean off of me, to leave no trace of him on my skin. I washed my hair, putting on a hair mask to get it as new and fresh as possible. I grew practically giddy as I leaned against the tiles, my instincts wincing away from the cold tiles. I rested back, fingers travelling down to my exposed nerves. I bit my lip, the warm water trickling down my body, the warmth washing over me as my ring and middle finger found my clit. I bit my lip harder, a whimper escaping my lips as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I sighed happily as I rubbed circles over my clit, the pleasure consuming me as I found my mind.

Thoughts of Dean clouded my mind, I fought to think of someone else, a distraction. Dean's eyes took up my mind so I opened my eyes, focusing on the sensations. I moaned softly before trailing my fingers down.

A scream escaped my lips as I jumped. A loud bang echoed through my motel room. SHIT! I hurried to turn my shower off. I peeked my head out of the bathroom seeing no one in my room, I grabbed a towel quickly wrapping it around my body as I hurried to the door. I grabbed my gun, cocking it as I looked through the peephole. I sighed as I put the gun aside. Dean fucking Winchester. Of course, it is. I rolled my eyes as I unlocked the door.

"What the fuck Dean?" I asked, annoyance in my tone as I opened the door. He looked annoyed before pushing the door wider, I stumbled back from the movement. He walked in, his back turned to me as I looked around annoyed and frustrated in more ways than one. I pushed the door shut, silently seething as I looked at Dean.

"I told you not to lock your door," His voice was angry but his eyes were hungry. Normally I'd be a puddle on the floor by now but I am done with him. I scoffed as I shook my head.

"And I told you to have fun alone," I retorted as I put my hand on my hip, looking at him angrily as he looked surprised by my response. I stayed strong as he stared me down.

"You're talking back to me now?" He asked, his eyebrows showing he wasn't asking, more stating. I maintained eye contact, not letting myself feel belittled by him.

"Yeah, there's no point in wasting both of our time and energy. I was actually showering so if you could just fuck off, that'd be great," I responded, gritting my teeth as I watched his anger grow. His eyes were darker than I've ever seen them. I made a point of not breaking eye contact first, it grew more challenging but I stayed strong. He remained still, his mind clearly clouded by his anger. I continued to fight myself to not break eye contact, it's principle now. He didn't seem to be struggling which only angered me more. "And for the love of God, will you stop looking at me with those eyes!" I shouted, my chest rising and falling rapidly. He clenched his jaw, eyebrows stiffening as he said nothing. "Don't look at me like you want to rip my clothes off, either do it or stop looking at me," I shouted, momentarily surprising myself with my own words.

Dean seemed surprised too, his anger evaporating from his expression. He looked away from me, scoffing slightly as he looked caught off guard. I clenched my jaw, offended by his reaction. I knew he was just messing with me this whole time but to scoff at that is ridiculous. I sucked my teeth angrily as I nodded, coming fully to terms with the fact this whole thing was a game to him. I tried with everything in me not to punch him in his handsome and annoying face. He shook his head as he turned towards the door.

That's what I thought. It was now so apparently obvious he was messing with me. Maybe now I'll finally get over him. I rolled my eyes as I turned around to watch him leave. My eyebrows furrowed slightly as he stopped at the door. He moved with precise movements, his hand reaching for the door handle. Seemed odd, but it all made sense why he stopped when rather than grabbing the handle he flicked the lock. My eyes widened as I gulped, we're locked in.

I stood frozen in place as he slowly turned around to look at me, his eyes still looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off. He moved slowly, approaching me without a word. I gulped, snapping myself back to reality.

"Dean," I cleared my throat, trying to gain some strength in my voice. "I wasn't serious," I tried, my voice sounding little as I backed away from him. His expression didn't change, he continued approaching me. "Stop messing with me," I jumped when my back hit the wall behind me. I gulped as he continued, my inside fluttering nervously. I felt little again as he towered over me. My breath hitched as he put a hand on the wall beside my head, his arm staying straight as he rested against it. His body was close to mine as he stared deep into my eyes. I bit my lip, watching as my insides churned in anticipation.

"Do I have your permission?" He asked slowly, his voice deep with desire. I gulped, taken back by his question. I was frozen in place, my lips parting as my mind considered all my options. I either put my foot down and get him to leave, he'll stop messing with me and I'll be in control of myself again... But... I nodded softly, too intimidated to speak. Dean smirked softly. His hands moved to my towel slowly. I gasped as he ripped it from my body quickly, forcefully. I gulped, fully exposed to him. He took a second to look me over, his eyes admiring every curve of my body as he licked his lips. My breath quickened as I could see his pupils dilate, the throb in his neck quickened before he bit his bottom lip. His eyes finally found mine, his breath quick as he almost growled. "From now on I'm going to look at you like I want to eat you. Let's see how long before you're begging to have this conversation again," He spoke slowly, eyes bouncing from my lips to my eyes, clearly wanting to kiss me. All ability to function left my body as I stared into his eyes. True to his word he looked at me like he wanted to devour me, like he was starving and I was the only food in sight.

God knows how I'm going to survive this.

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Hope you enjoyed! 💜

Part 3

[thejakeslayla]

╰─▸ ❝ distance ❞ - ,, park sunghoon

pairing bf!sunghoon x gn!reader ୨୧ genre fluff, slight angst? ୨୧ wc 1k ୨୧ req; prompt 24 (deciding on a list of Netflix shows they will only watch together); dialogue 41 (“you’re just the cutest.” “you’re the only one who is allowed to say that.”);

you settled in, making yourself cozy under the blankets, propping your head up with pillows, your phone now in your hands. the clock struck 10 pm, and you eagerly anticipated a call from sunghoon. it had been his second week on tour, and you were longing to see him again.

as you scrolled through twitter, you watched clips of your boyfriend from today's concert. after a while, you opened your clock app to check the time in sunghoon's current location. just as you were about to click on the city he was in, his name and a cute picture of him smiling popped up on your screen. you glanced at yourself in the preview and answered the call.

"hey, y/n!" he exclaimed loudly, his still-sweaty face appearing on your screen. you could hear the sounds of the rest of enhypen in the background, indicating he was still backstage.

"hi, hoonie. how was the concert?" you asked, secretly admiring his face. suddenly, his video paused, and you furrowed your eyebrows, feeling confused. it soon resumed, and you saw niki's face.

"y/n! i missed yo–" "hey, niki! give it back!"

you laughed at niki's face. "riki, give sunghoon his phone, please," you requested after a few seconds of the younger member dodging his hyung.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry about that," sunghoon said after getting his phone back. "he's hyperactive after concerts, he gets the zoomies, y'know," he explained, and you nodded.

"i've already changed, just waiting for the car," he added, moving the camera down to show himself sitting with sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.

"looking good, baby." you smiled at him.

fifteen minutes later, sunghoon arrived at the hotel and instantly flopped down on the bed. you were used to seeing him like this, not only after concerts in seoul but also during calls, that slowly became your routine. he always called you as soon as he could and stayed on the call until one of you fell asleep.

"before the concert, i saw this new movie trailer," he broke the silence, lifting his face from the pillows and now looking at you. "we should go see it."

"we also have to finish the other million movies we haven't watched," you replied. "at this point, a good list would be nice."

upon hearing your words, sunghoon gazed at something out of your view, deep in thought. "you know, that's not a bad idea? as soon as i'm back, we should have a movie marathon."

you placed your phone down, hearing sunghoon's muffled "hey!" as you grabbed a notebook. then you adjusted your phone so he could still see you and looked at him.

"give me some suggestions, and i'll note them down."

he began listing some movie titles you were familiar with and others that were new to you. when you heard one of them, you paused.

"no, absolutely not. we're not watching that," you protested, and he raised an eyebrow.

"what do you mean? it's a good movie," he argued, and you shook your head.

"hoonie, that was the most boring movie i've ever seen."

"it's just your bad taste," he teased. "okay, if you have better movie taste, enlighten us, y/n."

"okay," you began. "so, my first suggestion is 'yuri on ice.'" you looked at your phone, waiting for sunghoon's reaction.

"oh, you think you're sooo funny," he said in a monotone voice, which made you laugh.

you couldn't see it, but the corners of his lips curled up as he watched you genuinely laughing. it warmed his heart to be the one making you laugh like that.

"you're just the cutest when you're like that, you know?" you said after a minute or two of laughing.

"you're the only one allowed to say that," he replied, leaving you feeling flustered. you put your head down, hiding your face in the notebook you had been writing in.

"y/n," he whined, "let me see you."

"no, i'm a mess, and it's your fault," you said, pretending to be offended.

"i wish i was there to see you," he almost whispered, though your phone was on max volume. you lowered the notebook and looked at him.

"what did you say?" he noticed your face peeking at him, and now he was the one feeling flustered.

"i just wish i could be there with you. i miss seeing your face, feeling your body close to mine, i miss kissing you, watching those silly movies with you, holding your hand," he said after a few seconds of silence, as if he were mustering the courage to say it. "i miss you."

you couldn’t help but feel tears welling up in your eyes, you missed sunghoon as well, so much it was painful. he quickly noticed your tears.

"hey, love, please don't cry. we'll see each other soon, okay?" he reassured you.

you nodded, wiping away your tears, but it was pointless as even more escaped your eyes, slowly rolling down your cheeks.

"i miss you too, hoonie," you finally said, your voice breaking.

"my baby," he said, his voice soft, as if it was healing the fresh wounds in your heart. "you have to be strong, okay? just two more cities here in the us, and i'll be back home."

after a few minutes of sunghoon calming you down, saying sweet nothings, and repeating that he would be back soon, you finally stopped sobbing. you placed the notebook on your nightstand and lay down, your cheek pressed against the pillow.

your conversation about movies continued, but sunghoon soon noticed your responses getting shorter or you simply replying with a soft "mhm" in varying tones that matched the conversation.

"love, is your phone charging?" he asked.

"mhm."

"where's your little hoonie?" another question. you opened your eyes and searched for the penguin plushie sunghoon had given you as a gift for your first anniversary. you quickly grabbed it and held it in your arms. closing your eyes again, you heard sunghoon chuckle.

"good, good. go to sleep, okay, love? i'll be here. do you want me to keep talking?"

you answered with another hum. just hearing his voice relaxed you, and he knew that after multiple times of you falling asleep on the call as he spoke.

he continued to talk, but after a few minutes, his voice became muffled as you started falling asleep for good. when sunghoon noticed your slow and steady breathing, calm expression, and the fact that you didn't respond anymore, he sighed, a soft smile on his face. he took a screenshot of your relaxed face and settled down more comfortably.

"i can't wait to see you and fall asleep with you, baby. i love you so much. sleep well."

requests: open; prompt list © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Catching Up

Requested?: No/Yes by ppl in part 1

Notes: this sucks and also why not

Description: Bill meets his kids for the first time as dad.

"...so you were pregnant?" Was the only thing Bill could say.

Or all he could muster up, sitting next to you in the empty stadium, sitting on instrument trunks as your children, Tom, Gustav and Georg all ran around to give you guys privacy.

You nodded, quiet as Bill sat riddled in guilt and questions. But all he could mutter was one thing for now.

"Do you…do you need anything?" Bill muttered, looking at you as your shoulders tense, and out of instinct and immediate offense, you furrowed your brows.

"If you're asking if I need money then stop. I don't fucking need it." You said, defensive out of instinct as you nodded to your kids.

"As you can tell, I've been good without it."

"No- no! Shit…I'm sorry. I just meant- like if they needed anything. Or if you're okay. I…I don't know what to do." Bill muttered, eyes widened as he shook his head, panicked in fear of offending you.

In truth he was nervous, scared and shocked and somewhat relieved.

You immediately felt guilty, shoulders softening as you sighed, rubbing your temple.

"Sorry, I…I didn't mean to be rude." You shook your head, giving an apologetic look as Bill somewhat relaxed, meeting your eye as he softly nodded.

"I just read all these shit articles about dads coming into kids' lives and taking them away. I didn't-" you shook your head before Bill interrupted you.

"It's understandable. It's fine." Bill added softly, agreeing as he held his hands in his lap.

You sighed a bit out of relief, both of you falling silent for a beat before you noticed the saddened look on Bill's face.

"...I know it's a shock. But if you don't want to you don't have to be around-" you tried quickly. "It's just they deserve a dad and-"

"No! No, I wanna be their dad. That's not a question." Bill cut you off quickly, putting a hand on your knees to stop you as he said so.

You looked at his hand for a moment then to him, looking over his face before you saw the genuine urge to be there in his eyes.

You softly nodded and only then did Bill realize where he put his hand, slowly retracting it as he cursed at himself.

"It's just…different. I didn't expect it. And- I don't want them to be mad at me for not being there." Bill sighed as he explained.

"It's not your fault..

"Yes, it is. You tried to get a hold of me and because of who I am, you couldn't. So yes, it is." Bill stated firmly, fully believing it to be true.

"I don't think I can make that up to them. And you…"

You stared at Bill for a moment as he seemed to avoid your eyes. You sighed, frowning at his face.

"...I know it's not the same, can you be there now?" You asked softly, Bill looking back up at you confused as you chuckle at his expression, nodding over to your daughter.

"She's asked about you. Ever since she should talk. He is too."

You added once more, eyes softened and looking at Bill's face as you saw the expression he held as he stared at his kids playing with his twin brother.

"I want to…but they don't know me at all. And it's my fault." Bill sighed, looking down as he had his elbows in his knees, leaning forward as he sighed.

"It's not your fault." You added immediately, shaking your head. Bill scoffed sarcastically.

"Yeah. It is. They had first steps, first words, everything." Bill said, looking over at you for a moment before he went back to looking at the floor.

"And I wasn't there for any of it…"

"I can show you pictures, videos. Anything you want." You offered quickly, wanting nothing more than for him to just be there for them.

"It's not the same." Bill said quietly, playing with the rings on his fingers. You sighed, shoulders slumped.

"Come on, don't be like that."

"How can I not?" Bill asks, sitting back up as he turns over to you. "I mean- what if I'm not even a good dad? I may suck-" Bill went on, cut off by your chuckling.

"Hey! What?" Bill asked, slightly offended but more amused as you continued laughing, his own shoulders slumped as he tried to find the humor.

"You think I didn't have those same doubts?" You chuckled softly.

"I was seventeen and pregnant, and you're barely finding out now. Of course you're scared." You explained softly to Bill, smiling at him in amusement.

"I know but-"

"No buts. The thing is if you wanna be a part of their lives or not. So, do you?" You cut off Bill, leaving no room for discussion.

Bill fell silent at your words, studying your face for a moment as he took in everything.

He took in you, your son and your daughter.

Who were now his son, and his daughter.

And maybe, just maybe, he could actually have a shot at something real.

So with one final sigh and a deep breath, Bill nodded, turning to look at your kids as they played while tackling Georg to the ground as Tom cheered them on and as Gustav fought for his drum sticks back.

"(D/n)! (S/n)! Come here for a minute." Bill could barely breathe as you called out for your kids.

Their heads snapped to you, deciding to ultimately stop terrorizing Bill's friends and brother as their little feet ran over to you.

"Yes, mama?" Your son nodded, a complete mamas boy with admiration stemmed from his birth with wide eyes of love looking at you.

Your daughter however was sassy, always having something to say but loving and kind, and even if it was hidden, she still loved you and her brother.

And soon enough, her dad.

You took both your babies hands, pulling them softly towards you before you turned them to face Bill with a soft smile.

You nodded, encouraging them and Bill as you spoke.

"Baby…this is your dad."

Your daughter and son looked at you with a blank face for a moment. They then turned to each other quietly, having a silent discussion.

After what felt like a lifetime they finally looked at Bill. Their dad.

Bill finally took in how alike they looked. And how much they looked like him. He felt no out but he picked apart every feature of his and yours.

And he couldn't help but admit they were the most beautiful kids he had ever seen.

From their hair to their feet they were gorgeous, so small and beautiful they Bill couldn't believe he took part in bringing them to life.

"You're our dad?" Your son mumbled out, stepping closer to Bill with wide eyes of curiosity as he admired his look.

Bill nodded softly as he couldn't find the words as the mini him stepped closer.

"You look like me." Your son mumbled, in the same trance as Bill was as you watched with bated breath

Your daughter however, cut to the chase.

"Why do you look like that?"

Bill laughed, snapping out of his trance with his smile now wide and like before when it first captured your heart.

The words of his daughter, and the way his son held his hand could only make his smile bigger. Wiping away the tears that made his eyes glistened he chuckled.

"You look like me, schön." Bill stated, your daughter's face scrunched up as she turned to her brother, looking over her now uncles who gave you guys space now.

"If we do then how come we've never met you?" Your daughter innocently asked, your son nodding along as he always went along with his sister.

You almost frowned as Bill's eyes and smile dampened for a moment, about to step in and blame yourself before Bill glanced at you.

He sighed, giving a small smile to you as he tapped your thigh before turning to your guys' children.

"It's my fault. I haven't talked to mom in a while and…I didn't know you guys were here." Bill frowned as he explained, and even so did Tom, Gustav and Georg.

The guys all stood watching from afar, not wanting to interrupt but can't help but admire their niece and nephew.

"Why not?" Your son mumbled out, tilting his head up at his father as Bill once again sighed, holding your son's hand as he sat him down beside him on the trunk.

"Because I'm an idiot. I didn't know mom was trying to get to me. A lot of stuff happened." Bill frowned, running a hand through your son's hair.

"Is that gonna happen again? Are you gonna stay?" Your daughter asked, frowning as almost tears were in her eyes out of fear of losing her father after barely knowing him.

"No! No, it won't happen again. I'm not leaving you," Bill said quickly, grabbing your daughter's hand as she stood close.

It took a moment before your daughter nodded hesitantly, taking a second before she climbed up on Bill's legs, looking up at him while close to his chest.

"Good, because mamas lonely."

"What?! You little-" you said, laughing as you went in to tickle her stomach. Your daughter burst into giggles as you did, hiding into Bill's arms as she covered herself in his jacket.

"It's true, mama." Your son mumbled, smiling and laughing softly as he stood behind Bill's back, peeking out from his shoulder with an arm around his dad's neck.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your kids, but watched softly as Bill laughed along with his kids, happily wrapping his arms around them.

"Does this mean we're uncles now?!"

You guys looked up to see Tom, hands on his hips with Gustav and Georg recruited beside him.

"Tom-" Bill sighed, wanting space for a moment as his twin shushed him.

"I just met mini yous and that's weird enough we wanna at least know them better." Georg explained, hands in his pockets as your kids turned to you excitedly.

"So we do have uncles?" Your son asked, eyes beaming with hope as your daughter nodded along, looking for your answer.

"I guess so." You chuckled softly at your son, leaning over to kiss his cheek as he smiled, scrunching up his face before he hid his face in Bill's neck.

Your daughter did as well before she noticed Bill's tattoos, eyes beaming as she held his fingers and tracing every line while asking questions after question.

You then watched Bill smile as he held the hands of his kids as your daughter prodded his hair and your son went on about animals he learned about in school, you couldn't help but think things would be alright.

But something was different.

You couldn't help but notice the smile he gave you. It was one like the night you guys first met, beaming and happy like he just discovered something he would cherish forever.

Maybe because Bill's eyes held more love in them than ever before.

------------------------------------------------

@billybabeskaulitz @bigbootahjudy @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @bunnysenpai31 @spectr3inl0ve @banshailey @bellastoner420 @victryzvv9 @stxngnr @killed-kiss @stilesandjames @m00nzyblogs @sylisan

[melanthaeunomia]

Do you write for Jason Grace? If so, could you do like Jason x gf!reader where reader and him get into a fight so they play on opposite teams during capture the flag but in the end, they make up, bc reader gets injured inbetween the game? I'm sorry if it's too specific and long haha

Capture the Heartache -Jason Grace x Reader (Established Relationship)

Warning ❧ Jason Grace x Gf!reader, Petty reader, nicknames, cursing (for like three lines), kissing, not book accurate (obvi), injury, established relationship A/N ❧ i don't know why this is so long, i literally spent hours on this cause i was bored and wanted to write something. Thank you so much for the request!, fair warning English is not my first language so please excuse spelling and grammar mistakes (this might be cringy) Word count ❧ 1.3k

Requests are open! Riordan Verse masterlist

You were in a good mood that day, Since it was Thursday, Everyone was practically giddy and preparing for capture the flag the next day, Gathering up Alliances and freshly made weapons. All was good until, you saw Jason surrounded by a couple of Nymphs and was Blushing? which pretty much put you into a bad mood all day, Yeah you we're jealous but you were never gonna admit that anyway, your pride got the best of you and you refused to talk to him the whole day.

"C'mon talk to me princess, What did i do?" Jason said his voice full of genuine worry as he tried to bribe you to talk to him by giving you flowers that he knew was your favorite. You ignored his attempts, recalling the scene you saw earlier. "Please, Are you mad at me?" Jason followed you the whole day looking like a lost puppy, until you finally snapped and told him your reason, And He practically laughed at you "Oh- Hah! Babe-" Your eyes furrowed and you stomped away from him, "Hey! wait!—" He ran after you and tried to explain, but you already locked the door to your cabin before he could get in “Love, let me in please” he pleaded but you were too stubborn to oblige.

The next day, Everyone was in a competitive mood. You glared at Jason from the other team who was staring back at you with puppy eyes making you roll yours, Luckily you guys weren’t in the same team and you wouldn’t have to work with him “No killing nor maiming!” Chiron said then the game started. You couldn’t care less about winning the game, all that matters is you get your revenge, You cornered Jason, who was all alone, you couldn’t lie and say that his armor didn’t make him look more… “Fit” You striked first but he quickly countered your attack and the swords clashed against eachother, “Princess, what got you all worked up like this?” You almost melted at how he called you 'princess' in such caring tone, but you had to stay strong. he was confused, sure you were competitive in games sometimes but not like this. you gripped your sword tighter, but he dodged your attack making you stumble over into your own sword "shit" you cursed under your breath as you saw blood seeping out the cut.

He helped you get up but you shoved him off "What is your problem?, why wont you talk to me?" He groaned in frustration and you glared at him, clenching your fist tightly trying to hide the fact that you got a cut. "You're hurt." He walked closer "No, I'm not" You grabbed your sword from the ground, the blade still had a few drops of your blood, “I’m not blind” Jason got closer and you gripped the sword tightly about to strike at him again. "Don't do that. Let me see your hand." He reached for your arm but you quickly pulled away "And why would i do that?" You scoffed, He reached for your hand again this time lightly gripping your wrist making you drop your sword. "Stop being stubborn. Let me patch you up." You yanked your hand away from him "Different teams dipshit" You hissed "Different teams doesn't mean I'm gonna let you get hurt dumbass, stop being so difficult" He was getting a bit frustrated with you now "Why do you care anyway?" you uttered and his eyes widened he seemed to be genuinely offended by your comment "Why wouldn't i."

You were shocked at his retort and felt blush creeping up your cheeks but you tried to shrug the feeling off. “You didn’t seem to care about me getting hurt yesterday, when those nymphs were flirting with you.” He chuckled gently grabbing your hand that was still clenched into a fist “Is that what this is about?” You could see him getting more flustered talking about the topic which made you more annoyed “wait.. what do you mean flirting?” He asked seemingly confused as he pulled you close by your wrist “They weren’t flirting.” You squirmed under his grip trying to wiggle your hand away from him “Don’t lie. I saw you blushing.” You scoffed and saw him turn away from you faintly laughing “They weren’t flirting..” he murmured giving you a reassuring squeeze "Then what were they saying that made you flustered so much?!" You snapped freeing your hand from his grasp

"Let me bandage you up first." You refused and slapped his hand away, "If i have to carry you to the Infirmary i will." He gripped your wrist, tighter this time "Its just a cut, Jason." You rolled your eyes, lightly flinching "And its bleeding, now sit." He added "God damn it fine!" You groaned but sat on a near tree stump, He knelled down, carefully examining your palm, there was a loud awkward silence and you saw that his cheeks were still red and you wondered why was he avoiding the topic so much if it turns out the nymphs weren't flirting with with him? "I um.." He stuttered, you raised a brow at him as he cleaned the cut with a clean cloth that he pulled out from his pockets before taking out bandages and wrapping it, his fingers lightly brushing up against yours. You twitched under the touch looking down, refusing to look him in the eye. And without warning, He pulls your arm closer to his chest to make the bandages tighter, making you slightly blush at how much he cares for you right now, You saw a faint smile on his face before letting go and standing up.

"You still hadn't answered my question." you said following him. He groaned and sighed "You.." he quietly mumbled and your eyes widened in confusion "Me?" Your head tilted in confusion as he looked you in the eye, cupping your cheek with one hand "They were talking about you.." He stroked your cheek that was almost as red as a tomato "wha-" You shivered feeling a calloused hand wrap around your waist slurring your words "I got distracted, Looking at you when i was training.. and the nymphs noticed and started teasing me telling me how "head over heels" i was for you.. whatever that means anyway.." He had a genuine look in his eyes, forcing you to look up at him with a hand underneath your chin, "Oh.." you were sure you that you were the exact shade of a tomato right now, embarrassed at the fact that your suspicion was wrong and was flustered at his explanation, needless to say that you could’ve saved yourself from overthinking and embarrassment if you would’ve just listened to his explanation yesterday.

You hesitated before speaking “I-i don't believe you..” You said with persistent, you were never one to back down even when you know you’re in the wrong. His grip tightened on your waist and he tucked in a loose hair behind your ear, Leaning in closer your faces inches away from each other “Don’t be stubborn Princess. Do i look like I’m lying?” His gaze softened pulling you closer by your waist making you flush “I would never do that to you, my love..” He whispered and finally closed the gap between you two by placing a soft quick kiss on your lips before pulling away all flustered, “that's an unfair advantage” Your blush reached your ears, Earning a laugh from Jason “You done throwing a fit sweet girl?” He chuckled pulling you closer and kissing your cheek “fraternizing with another team is against the rules…”You murmured trying to hide your blushed up cheeks ”yeah, but since when were you one to follow rules, sweetheart?” He smirked pulling you gently by your chin and kissed you passionately all thoughts of the jealousy, and the game were floating away as you melted into his grasp.

Requests Main Masterlist

@melanthaeunomia

[n0vabug]

Sleeping and Bowling

Summary: Reader sleeps in and Maddy skips school to go to her house, they cuddle, go bowling, yk that kind of stuff.

This was a request btw :)

Warnings: None, it's all fluff :) Words: 1.3k

THIRD PERSON POV

Maddy walked into school that morning and immediately went to her girlfriend's locker, like normal. Maddy waited and waited. No (Y/N). She thought it was kind of weird since (Y/N) rarely ever missed school. Even though she wouldn't say it out loud at the moment, she was a bit worried that (Y/N) hadn't bolted through the school doors to hug her. Maddy eventually walked away, she went to look for Jules to ask her if she knew where (Y/N) was. It turns out (Y/N) was actually perfectly fine. She was just overslept that morning and when she woke up, she just decided to stay home since she would've been late anyways. Jules and (Y/N) had always been close. Jules was the second person (Y/N) came out too and also the second person who knew (Y/N) liked Maddy, but the first, was Lexi. (Y/N) was also pretty close to Lexi as they both had similar personalities. Lexi and (Y/N) had been friends since primary school (first grade to be specific). Lexi knew about (Y/N) liking Maddy since they started High school, and the second Maddy and (Y/N) started dating, Lexi was thrilled, like jumping up and down and continuously hugging (Y/N).

"Hey bitch, do you know where my Girlfriend is?" Maddy asked the blonde

"Yeah, she just texted me and said that she slept in today so she's just saying home." Jules responded and chuckled a bit at the end. She found it kind of funny since (Y/N) never sleeps in and is always on time.

"I'm gonna kill her." Maddy said obviously joking, which made Jules laugh.

Maddy decided to leave school and spend the day with her girlfriend, she wanted to take her bowling that night, and maybe watch a movie with her, Maddy literally wanted to do anything with her. They both really loved each other, (Y/N) was always doing kind gestures, showing Maddy every love language and giving Maddy all her love. Maddy on the other hand loved it, she was more of a physical touch quality time of person though, but every time (Y/N) showed any type of love to Maddy, she always said, "Ew (Y/N), that's like really gay." after that, (Y/N) would just give Maddy a look of confusion and say, "Aren't you literally gay?" The first that time Maddy did this, (Y/N) didn't realize she was joking and was upset because she thought Maddy didn't want to be with her, which led Maddy into explaining that it was all a big joke and she didn't mean it and a lot of cuddles and kisses from her. Maddy obviously wasn't homophobic, she never has been.

Maddy left the school and immediately drove to (Y/N's) place. Maddy got to her house, walked up to the door and knocked. (Y/N's) mom answered the door, she was one of the nicest people Maddy had met, next to (Y/N) of course.

"Oh hi Maddy!"

"Hello Mrs. (L/N), is (Y/N) here?" Maddy questioned the older woman

"Yep, she overslept, but she is just hanging out in her room if you want to come in. Do you need anything?" (Y/N's) mom said while opening the door more so Maddy could come inside.

"No I'm fine, thank you though!" Maddy said with a smile on her face. (Y/N) and her mom were both genuinely nice people, that's what Maddy liked about there house, it was sweet.

Maddy knocked on (Y/N's) door, and before (Y/N) could even say "come in", Maddy had already walked in.

"Oh hey Mads, I didn't know you were-" Maddy cut (Y/N) off by pressing a soft kips to her lips, but sadly, the kiss didn't last long. "Well, that's one way to say hello" said (Y/N) laughing.

"Well if I'm being completely honest, you make it very hard for me to like not miss you." Said Maddy, and before (Y/N) could get a word out, Maddy spoke up again. "Oh also tonight, you should like totally come bowling with me, Kat, Ethan, and Jules, and then you and me come back to your house and have a sleepover, if it's okay with you."

"That sounds like a great idea, also you basically live here, Mads, and I love it when you stay, you don't have to ask me." (Y/N) said with a smile. Maddy just smiled and admired her girlfriend for a minute before cupping her cheeks and pulling her in for another kiss, this time one that lasted a bit longer, Maddy melted into this kiss as she felt the warmth of her girlfriends lips flow perfectly against her lips. After a few minutes they both pulled away, out of breath.

"Come on let's get ready for tonight."

"We still have 7 hours Maddy."

"Well I want to make sure we both look perfect and I want to do your makeup." Maddy said with a grin on. her face

"You know I don't like a ton of makeup Mads." (Y/N) responded "Why don't we like relax for a bit before getting ready, we don't need 7 hours."

"Ugh fine, can I do a little makeup at least, also if we're relaxing then we're cuddling." Maddy said with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Fine you can do a little bit of makeup." (Y/N) said which made Maddy smile. (Y/N) laid down and patted the spot next to her for Maddy. Maddy laid on (Y/N's) chest and buried her head in the crook of (Y/N's) neck. Maddy's arms were around (Y/N's) waist while (Y/N's) arms were on Maddy's back. The two laid like this for a while until they both fell asleep.

(Y/N) woke up and immediately panicked, not knowing what time it was and not realizing they both fell asleep. "Shit, shit, shit" she said, which woke Maddy up.

"What time is it?" (Y/N) asked in a panicked voice which worried Maddy a bit.

"Calm down baby, it's only 12:14." Maddy responded in a reassuring voice, which caused (Y/N) to let out a heavy breath that she didn't realize she was holding in, showing that she was relived.

"Wait, how the hell did we sleep for 4 hours." (Y/N) asked confused

"I don't know, but let's get ready, bowling is at 5."

"Okay Mads, we can get ready." (Y/N) said with a smile and kissed Maddy's forehead.

~~~Really short time-skip~~~

The two girls changed into their outfits, Maddy finished her makeup, and was adding finishing touches to (Y/N's), she was sitting down while Maddy straddled her lap.

"Can I add diamonds to it?"

"Sure, why not." (Y/N) said smiling

Maddy put a few diamonds on (Y/N's) face and smiled as she added the last one. "Okay, I'm done, what do you think?" Maddy moved off of (Y/N) as she got up and walked towards the mirror.

"You know, I'm not the biggest fan of makeup, but when you do it, I love it." (Y/N) said which made Maddy smile and pull her into a warm embrace.

"Come on let's go." Maddy said while grabbing her bag and intertwining her hand with (Y/N's) and dragging her to the car.

Maddy was always the one driving, she loved to treat (Y/N) like the passenger princess, Maddy loved to give her the aux, which is rare because Maddy doesn't even let Kat or Cassie (when they were still friends) control the music, but she loves (Y/N) so it didn't matter.

Both girls had arrived, they met up with Kat, Jules, and Ethan, they went bowling for a couple hours until they eventually were tired of it. Maddy and (Y/N) parted ways with the others and drove back to (Y/N's) house. They both took showers, put their pajamas on, and did whatever they had to do to get ready for bed. (Y/N) let Maddy pick a movie as they both laid on her bed, in the same position they were earlier. Maddy couldn't even see the movie because of the position she was in, but she didn't care.

"Hey, Mads?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you"

"I love you too (Y/N)" Maddy says, as she leans up and kisses (Y/N) on the forehead.

A/N I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED AND STUFF BUT HERE IT IS. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN JUST LMK AND TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO FIX :). I HAD FUN WRITING THIS THOUGH. LMK IF YOU HAVE ANY MORE REQUESTS, THEY ARE ALWAYS OPEN AND IM LIKE NEVER BUSY EVER 😭😭. BUT YEAH LMK IF YOU WANT ANYTHING TO BE FIXED IN THIS OR IF ITS NOT WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can you do Barbie x female!reader where Barbie returns to the real world and falls head over heels for the reader and vice versa?

-Greek myth anon 📜

You first met Barbie for a short time when she's crying outside the school, feeling hurt and anxious for the first time in her life.

You didn't initially know who she was, assuming she was going through a rough breakup.

But while her eccentric pink cowgirl outfit threw you off for a moment, you didn't wanna just leave her alone. You'd feel bad for the rest of the day.

So as a women concerned for a fellow women, you approached her.

"Hey, um..are you alright-?"

"No!" She bawls. "Is this what the Real World's supposed to be like?? Where girls hate you and men objectify you?? None of this makes any sense!! Ever since I got here I started having all these weird emotions and I feel all mushy and....oh no....that's exactly what Weird Barbie warned me about!!"

"Girl, that's all part of the universal.....wait, did you say Barbie?" You blinked.

"Y-Yes..I'm Barbie. Stereotypical Barbie, actually." She sniffles, confused when you sit beside her and offer a tissue/handkerchief. "O-Oh..thank you so much...?"

"[Y/n]." You say as she dries her tears. "You know I used to love those dolls growing up. They've entertained me for hours as a little girl. So...I guess I should thank you for giving me a good childhood, assuming you really are a Barbie."

That's genuinely the nicest thing any human's said to her so far, and you give her a hug to express your support and comfort.

She cries again, but she's happy this time (much to her confusion), and you tell her that humans cry for all kinds of reasons..so it's nothing she should be too worried about.

Sadly the sweet moment doesn't last long as she's whisked away to Mattel in a black SUV, although you hold onto hope that you'll see her again.

And you eventually do in a place you least expected to find her: the gynecologist.

Barbie--now taking on the human name "Barbra"--explains how she left her "dollness" behind, being reasonably nervous, but you reassure her this is a great first step towards embracing both her humanity and womanhood.

After your appointments, you hang out together and exchange phone numbers, keeping in touch and texting back-and-forth.

You end up going on shopping trips together, getting coffee/pastries, getting your nails done, going to small concerts, etc. Just fun little things humans (and women) typically do.

If anyone tries harassing you, you're each other's best defenders.

Barbie's quick to fall head over heels for you now that she truly got to know and spend time with you.

You're funny, kind, protective...and the first person to ever ask if she was okay when she visited the Real World.

When she's not with you, she's gushing over you to Gloria and Sasha (who had to be the ones to tell her that she's in love).

Likewise, you were in love with her too, getting warm and fuzzy feelings just from looking into her eyes and seeing her smiles and radiant optimism.

Eventually you both confessed (at the exact same time), and while it's a little awkward, you're finally a couple and end up moving in together.

You love listen to her ramble about the next exciting thing she just learned about human culture (esp the technology).

"So you're saying this is Alexa and she knows everything????" Barbie points to the device in your kitchen. "And she can play any song???"

"Pretty much, yeah." You chuckle, smiling as she asks Alexa to play "Ain't It Fun" by Paramore.

She starts dancing, and you join in, singing along to the lyrics.

Indeed, she finds it fun living in the Real World with you <3

[writingoddess1125]

The Sunset Pirates pt. 1

Old Men Series Masterlist <<<

Support ne on Ko-Fi ☕️ Helps me make more stories

"Hey I wanted to say something-" Vivian said calmly, the doubt of Alucares words eating into her, Dee raising a brow and nodding in wanting to hear her out. "Shoot-"

• The new shamble crew had been at sea for a few months and truthfully getting along quite well.

• While Vivian still seemed to dislike Alucare the two were civil with each other- Vivian mostly becoming good friends with the twins, especially Dee who had turned into a great friend for her.

• Bee and Alucare had become overnight friends it seemed- Alucare was calm and collected while Bee was a wreck yet the two of them seemed to mix well.

• The crew had fallen into their rolls it seemed as well- Dee acted as a Captian and Navigator, Vivian the Gunner, Alucare the Sword and Bee who was the Explosive expert and General Blacksmith.

• Was it odd? Of course! However they all seemed to work well together and got along great

•For the most part-

"Huh- I never noticed till now" Alucare mumbled as he looked to Vivian who glared at him-

"What?" She snapped, the dark haired teen rolling his eyes-

"You're the only girl here-" He said with a shrug, Taking another bite from his breakfast still half asleep as he ate. Vivian raising an eyebrow at him saying this-

"It's just weird- we need another on the crew to help balance it and make sure it's not weird... No two" He grumbled sipping the burnt coffee as he dozed off.

While Alucare was talking about number of crew mates needing for the ship to not be run weird so two addional people were needed and genuinely didn't mean anything by his words forgetting about them 5 minutes later; Vivians mind was running on overdrive. Was it weird? She was on a crew with 3 guys and the only female- What if they thought their relationship was more then she thought?- What if they expected something from her?

These thoughts circled her mind as anxiety build in her chest the rest of that morning- Even when she went to hang out with Dee.

"Are you okay?.." Dee asked, the two seated next to each other.

A bit hesitantly she rubbed the back of her neck "You do realize we are friends right?.. I don't like you in a romantic way and want to misinterpret our friendship as romantic in anyway" She said as calmly as possible. Dee making a slight choking noise in surprise before chuckling softly.

"Couple of things wrong with that sentence- me being friends with you doesn't constitute me having a crush on you, my brother liking you doesn't mean I have to like you- we are twins but still separate people and lastly you aren't my type-" Dee said calmly and with smile.

Vivian blinked in surprise at several parts of that. First that Bee liked her- second was the utter take down of the illusion she had for him and last was the 'Type'.

Dee nodded at seeing her confusion and gestured to his head the side, Vivian following the motion to Alucare to the left training on the decks....

Wait..

.... Ding Ding Ding! 🏳️‍🌈

"You like guys?" Vivian said in shock and Dee nodded calmly at this. Watching the red head flush in embrassment "I-I am so sorry I didn't know- You never said anything"

"Why does that need to be something I promote? My private interest doesn't need to be involved with what I do as a pirate" He pointed out.

•"...Holy shit I'm a asshole I'm so sorry-" Vivian admitted with a heavy sigh. Dee smiled at this and patted her shoulder.

"It's kinda something that has to be learned since so many people have many different ways of promoting their Sexuality. So it's fine, I can understand the confusion and its forgiven" He reassured, always willing to forgive especially since he was sure she was mentally beating herself up anyway.

"Yeah... I shouldn't have assumed- I'm defiently going to punch Alucare after this.." Vi said with an embarrassed sigh. Dee raised a brow at Vivians words, The red head explaining that Alucare had brought some level of worry of her being the only girl on the ship-

Dee rolling his eyes "Give him one for me too... By the way you dont have to worry about me or Bee, Me for odvious reasons and Bee wont cause he respects women too much and would never stoop so low- It may not seem like it but he is a huge Mamas boy and wouldnt do anything to disappoint our mother or our father in such a way"

Bonus:

"Hey Luffy! Look at this!" Usopp called out, smiling as he rushed to Luffy who was on the deck eating away at some breakfast.

The rest of the crew who had been out and about on the desk. Being the crew of an Emperor of the Sea and King of the pirates had been amazing, the flush of food laid before them all as they all chatted and joked.

They all paused at Usopp running to them with the newspaper and new bounties- Laying them all on the table. Luffy pausing mid bite as he saw Vivian, a grin stretching over his cheeks as he proudly looked at her bounty.

The rest of the crew reading the paper of how they bested the Vice-Admiral Beckman and got away from the Marine Vessel.

"That kid must be related to Mihawk- Look at his eyes.. Gold Gaze" Zoro hummed as he stared at a younger copy of his mentors face in the paper, Others agreeing at this.

"Woah! Is that the Twins that Buggy had?" Sanji said as he remembered the two little squirts from before- Nami nodding in agreement and gushing at remembering how adorable they were then and how cute they are now.

"Who would have thought it would go full circle?" Jinbe muttered, having heard the stories of their parents having sailed together. Two of which were Emperors of the sea and the other a Legend of the sword- Now their child in a crew together.

"Welp!- Sounds like we have to head to the East Blue!" Luffy proclaimed as he jumped up. The crew looking at him confused-

"What for?" Franky asked, Seeing Luffy grin at them all.

"Drop off a Gift- Just like a promised" He said with a smile.

[evermourning]

𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - han jisung

pairing: han jisung x reader, lovertober entry viii

genre: fluff, comfort, non!idol au

wc: 8.9k

warnings: brother's best friend!han, language, mentions of alcohol, reader is OBLIVIOUS and jisung is WHIPPED, making out, gets very suggestive, getting caught, starts really fucking slow.

a/n: daylight. lover's final track. what a fitting way to end lovertober. thank you all so much for the immense support i received with this series...can't wait to see you for my next one!

p.s., i'm sorry about the length (i got carried away </3) and the delay (i have been so so so busy), please enjoy!

you'd known han jisung for a very, very long time.

you were ten years old. it was a sunny september afternoon, and you were sitting on the brick stairs of your childhood home, watching with annoyance as your stupid brother and his stupid friends played football in the front yard.

your brother minho, ever the athlete, was the quarterback, of course. he was yelling terms that were so foreign they sounded like another language as the scrimmage commenced. you were bored out of your mind.

that is, until one of his friends sat down beside you.

"hi. you're min's little sibling, right?" he asked. his knees were covered with scrapes and cuts, a bandage places hastily over his left one. he had fluffy black hair and two dark eyes you could get lost in if you looked for too long. he gave you an awkwardly adorable smile.

you nodded skeptically. minho's friends were usually up to no good.

"yeah. why?" you asked, and he giggled. it was cute.

"i always see you hanging around whenever i come over, so i just wanted to know. why do you sit on the step watching if you never play?" he asked, genuinely wanting to learn more about you.

"my mom wants us to get our exercise in, so she basically kicks us outta the house until it's dinnertime." you explained quietly. a little "oh" formed on the boy's lips. "what's your name, by the way?"

"jisung." he said playfully, extending a hand out to shake yours. "and you're yn, right? minho's always talking about you." as if he'd been listening in, minho appeared behind him in an instant.

"jisung, we're down a player. you can't just be chatting up yn like that." he rolled his eyes. after jisung muttered a string of insults beneath his breath, minho crouched down to your level. "if he starts nagging you again, come get me, okay? i'm your big brother. i've got to be looking out for you."

"he wasn't nagging me, though?" you said, confused. "we were just talking." minho sighed.

"okay...but i'm gonna keep an eye on him. i don't care if he's my best friend. he hurts you and he dies. violently."

being friends with lee minho meant ground rules were established. they were short and to the point, usually things about privacy and things people say and whatnot, but there was one main one, one he enforced the most.

yn is off limits. no exceptions.

to minho, the idea of any of his friends dating one of his family members was just so weird. he didn't really want any of them to hurt you and have to cut off a valuable friendship. so, he made it very clear to them that they frankly did not have a chance with you.

jisung was sure he did, though.

he knew his feelings for you were so wrong, and that minho would most likely gut him if he ever told him, so he bottled them up. for years and years. fighting urges to kiss you silly when he saw your outfit for prom, when he saw you in a swimsuit, anything. once he went away to college, however, he hoped that his feelings would simply melt away and he could move on from you.

how terribly wrong he was.

fast-forward to a decade later, he was now standing outside your front door, inhaling deeply. he knocked once or twice before minho excitedly opened the door.

"hey, jisung." he stepped aside so jisung could enter, smiling widely. "how's college going?"

your final years of high school were peaceful, yet lonely. minho and his friends had ventured off to different universities, leaving you to fend for yourself. jisung, namely going to some fine arts school where he was pursuing a career in music production.

jisung caught minho up on how life was going, expressing his dismay about being dumped as he slipped into the kitchen to grab a drink.

"i didn't think you'd be drinking this early, ji." minho teased. jisung laughed, taking a swig before offering it up to him. when minho shook his head, jisung chugged the rest of it with a chuckle. "oh, by the way, i've got something to tell you. don't be weird, but yn's coming home too. i think they'll be home...in an hour or so?"

jisung choked on his drink. so much for not being weird.

"there's no way." he muttered, resulting in minho raising an eyebrow. "i haven't seen yn in what- two years? three years? how...are they?"

minho smiled, almost slyly, checking his phone.

"you're about to see."

the front door opened, and you came in frantically, your face lighting up as you saw your older brother. you rushed over to him to give him a tight hug. when you turned your head slightly to see jisung, your face lighting up into a dazzling smile, jisung swore actual butterflies were flying around in his stomach.

you had gotten fucking hot.

somewhere along the line, you'd had some glow-up that turned you into something akin to a fallen angel. (actually, you'd always been gorgeous to jisung, he'd just noticed it more now).

"as i live and breathe, han jisung!" you beamed, hugging him tightly. jisung swore his cheeks were blooming red. you smelled like lavender and chamomile and he wanted to wake up and smell that every single day of his goddamn life. "you're so different, oh my gosh. you look amazing."

your jaw was honestly dropped at his transformation. he was lean, yet muscular, his body toned and tan. his hair was curly, a chocolatey brown color that complimented his eyes and skin tone so well. and when he looked at you, smiling, god...

"tell me all about it!" jisung said a bit too eagerly, leading you to the sofa to sit down with you. "how is university? have you made a lot of friends? what are you studying?"

his question made you remember a necessity.

"wait! thank you so much for reminding me, ji. i've gotta text my boyfriend and tell him i've gotten here safe." you smiled cheekily.

jisung saw red.

"i didn't realize...you were in a relationship." he said with gritted teeth. you nodded, a bit confused as to why the mood suddenly changed to something much tenser.

"yeah, um, it's not a super serious one, we've really only been together for like five months tops, but he's sweet." you said awkwardly. something about how jisung was staring so intently at you made you feel like you had to explain yourself.

"what's he like?" jisung asked indignantly. "uh, y'know, just in case i meet him...so i can...get along with him better."

he was not slick. how the hell did you not pick up on it?

he didn't know, because he breathed a raggedly sigh of relief as you laughed and began vividly describing your boyfriend, eliciting a grimace from jisung. god, this guy sounded fucking annoying.

"let's see...he's absolutely my type. he's adorable, kind, funny, caring, and hella talented. he's a great singer." jisung was a greater singer too. probably even better than this guy. he would crush him in karaoke. "but i wish he could play the guitar...that would make him so much more desirable to me."

jisung had a guitar in his trunk he was fighting demons not to go grab. it was the way your boyfriend sounded like a carbon copy of him that had him fuming. for fuck's sake, he was right here!

it was unfair, in jisung's eyes. once you'd admitted that your boyfriend had a very short temper and could be very controlling, he'd whipped his head around so his eyes could meet minho's. minho simply shook his head.

knock it off, he was saying.

how the fuck was this absolute douchebag able to date you but jisung wasn't? it was so fucking rigged.

your boyfriend wasn't even that handsome, either. he looked like any average twenty-something year-old guy. if anything, he had absolutely fucking nothing on jisung. jisung was the hottest guy he knew. a solid twelve out of ten. this guy was a four or less on a good day.

he reassured himself, remembering he had so many fucking weeks with you, without your boyfriend. his only problem, however, was not you or that guy you were fawning over. it was lee fucking minho.

twelve years and not a single ground rule changed. jisung was still not allowed to make any advances on you. therefore, he had to get better at being sneaky.

his first (and only) attempt to get you to break up with your boyfriend was on a wednesday. it was rainy, diminishing the possible activities you could do, so you opted to watch a movie with minho, jisung, and one of their other friends, chan.

it was some horror movie you couldn't stand one bit, jumpscares at every turn. you were flinching and hiding your face in jisung's shoulder. he wrapped a strong, comforting arm around you, to which minho gave him a look.

"hey, i got you. it's just a movie." he murmured softly into your ear. you giggled.

"ji, stop it. you're so cuddly, i have a boyfriend." you whispered, not to interrupt the movie. the words stabbed him in the throat.

"i know." he said quietly, drawing his hands back slightly. "but he's not here right now. you don't need to talk about him. you were talking just yesterday about how you were worried he didn't care for you. why are you still with him?"

"well...my friends are his friends...and we have so many memories that i'd hate to lose..." it was excuse after excuse. god. this guy had really fucked with you bad. maybe if your boyfriend ended things with you, you could learn to truly love someone, namely a super sexy and talented guy named han jisung.

"that's no reason to still be dating him. you could always try and end things on good terms and then-"

"jisung, enough." your voice was firm, implying this was the final time this conversation would be held. so much for trying. eh. he'd never been much of a negotiator in the first place, anyways. now, he just had to hope and pray and pray and pray for some amazing miracle.

four days later, it happened.

minho called jisung over to hang out. the day was rooted into his mind. they were laying on the sofa, one of the cats on minho and another in between jisung's legs, scrolling through social media. you were off in your room, on the phone with your boyfriend. the walls weren't super thin, so he couldn't really hear your conversation.

until the volume raised. louder and louder until you were full on yelling and jisung could hear every single sentence. every single word. every single vowel and consonant that left your lips. you were furious.

judging by the bits and pieces he was straining to hear as he acted disinterested, your boyfriend was pissed that being back in your hometown with all of your brother's friends meant that you were fucking them behind his back or something. you were on your last straw with his controlling attitude and you lost it.

"i'm so sick of you! we're done. don't fucking text me or call me." you snapped, hanging up and flinging your phone (jisung knew this because it made a loud crash, tumbling to the floor).

minho stood up awkwardly.

"i'm gonna, um, go check on them." jisung stumbled to his feet, scaring off the cats.

"i'll come with you, min. yn's close with me, too." minho wanted to say something, it was so obvious. but his mouth remained shut as they walked towards your room.

you were laying on your bed, crying. your eyes were red and the mountain of crumpled tissues upon your nightstand progressively grew and grew.

"honey," minho began, his voice soft. he only ever referred to you that way, gentle and caring. this, jisung knew all too well, was the very reason minho was so protective of you. minho had loved and cherished you since the day you were born, fighting off the monsters in the dark just to see you smile. it wasn't that minho wouldn't be able to forgive anyone who hurt you, he'd never be able to forgive himself.

and that in itself was his biggest fear. jisung was minho's closest friend and confidant. minho trusted jisung with his life. however, this also meant that accidentally hurting you would be seen as the greatest betrayal of his life.

you flopped over, staring at minho with red-rimmed eyes. he sighed, a sweet smile upon his seemingly cold features. you really brought out the best in him.

"i'm sorry about what happened. do you need me and ji to get you anything? something to eat or drink, a blanket, more tissues...or if you want to talk, i'll stay and listen." he sat down on the bed, and you sat up to scoot over and lean into minho, fitting with him like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

"is it raining outside? i wanna look at the stars. me and him used to do that and i want solace." you mumbled as minho rubbed your back. he turned to jisung, thinking for a split second.

"i'm going to start making you some dinner. a good meal will get your mind off of this. the hill outside is perfect for stargazing. jisung can go with you. come back when you're feeling hungry, okay?"

you nodded. jisung's heart skipped a beat. this would be his first time alone with you all break! a win was still a win, regardless of whether or not the situation was ideal.

and now, here he was, laying in the cool grass alongside you. you were moping.

"there are clouds everywhere! it's not worth it. of course the universe fucks with me on a day like today." you whined. jisung gave you a hug, cursing himself when you flinched. was he coming off too strong?

you were right, though. a thick layer of clouds completely covered the stars, painting the sky a drab dark gray. the only thing that could be seen was the bright reflection of the moon, shaped into a mere crescent.

you clung to him, creating a damp spot on his shirt with your tears. he wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry into his shoulder.

"it fucking sucks, ji. i'll never get to go on all the dates i planned with him. i-" your voice broke. he patted your back. "i had a list. a list of all the things i was gonna do with him. now who can i do them with?"

"you can do them with me!" he interjected, a bit too frantic for his own liking. when you looked at him weird, he had to come up with some quick excuse he'd pray you'd believe blindly. "not in any romantic sort of way, but if you want to do them, i'm right here. we have all the time in the world."

you really didn't.

you gave him a tired smile before hugging him tighter.

"you really would? that's so sweet. you're such a gentleman, jisung."

that night, he died and came back to life. and so, the most important mission of his life began.

mission: make yn fall in love with me and do it all without minho finding out was officially a go.

he was snapped out of his daze when minho opened the door to the back porch, signaling that dinner was ready. like the perfect brother he was, he'd cooked up three plates of your favorite meal. your eyes lit up at the plates neatly made and you finished it almost instantly. minho and jisung watched you as you slid the fork between your lips for two very different reasons.

the way minho looked at you was almost motherly, like he wanted to hide you under his wing and keep you safe, to protect you every step of the way. his heart was absolutely shattered seeing you so beaten up over your now ex-boyfriend. he should've known, he told himself again and again as he sliced the vegetables, he should've known that guy was bad news. he wanted to wrap you in a bone-crushing hug and spill words of remorse and sorrow from his heart-shaped lips, to apologize for not being there for you.

jisung wanted to kiss you until you were a flustered mess beneath him. he wanted to run his fingers through your hair and caress your soft cheeks. he would have to shake these thoughts off for his next week, a week filled with definitely-not-dates with you.

monday

you stared at yourself in the mirror, spinning a bit to see all of the angles of your outfit. you'd just recently bought this top and you were a little unsure about it.

ending things with your boyfriend had completely thrown off your schedule for your break. and here you were now, getting ready to go to an aquarium with someone you hadn't seen in years. a knock sounded on your door. it was soft, as if the echo was a question.

"come in," you said, a tinge of unsureness upon your tongue. the door slid open to reveal jisung, wearing a cute crewneck and baggy jeans. he began smiling widely once he saw your outfit.

"you look stunning. i- i don't even have any words to describe you, you look so lovely. like the first warm day of spring." you felt your cheeks heat up at his words. for somebody so energetic and funny, he certainly was eloquent. it was as if he had some magical control over words and syllables, combining and separating them until he'd made the perfect match.

"thank you so much, ji! you look amazing too." his outfit was simple yet stylish, the color palette blending incredibly with yours. jisung never went out of his way to put this much effort into an outfit. was there any reason? (spoiler alert: there was)

his cheeks flushed pink at your words, and he outstretched one hand for you to take.

"shall we go?"

you'd never really noticed his hands before. you'd never really needed to in the first place. but they were soft, as opposed to the small callous on his index finger, probably from writing lyrics and schoolwork all the time. his hands weren't huge, but they were larger than minho's. his nails were painted expertly and delicately in hues of navy blue.

"i didn't realize you still painted your nails." you murmured, and he looked up, laughing sheepishly. "i remember being so jealous that i could never paint mine like you did. that's why i always asked you to do mine for me."

"practice makes perfect, i'm afraid. but you can ask me anytime, and i'd drop whatever i'm doing to help you. just say the word and i'll be there in the blink of an eye." his declaration seemed a bit off for just helping you with your nails, but everybody expressed emotions differently, so you shrugged it off.

his hand was still outstretched, never once faltering, as if he knew at some point, no matter the journey, you'd take it. and you did.

the aquarium was somewhere you'd always wanted to go with your boyfriend. it held such nostalgia and beauty that you'd been dreaming of the day you could go there with someone you'd enjoy it with. you were happy it was the first idea on your bucket list, something to get your mind off of the miserable day before.

you honestly still couldn't believe you were doing this with han jisung himself, anyways. he was your brother's best friend, and he was way too cool for you. he'd seen you as a little sister his entire life. this idea of his was out of the care and concern of his heart in the utmost platonic way possible.

jisung, on the other hand, was trying not to trip over his own two feet as he held your hand, seeing the awe in your eyes. he squeezed your hand with excitement, hoping his hand wasn't sweaty or anything. oh god...what if it was? he told you he needed to "readjust" his hand before profusely wiping it on his jeans until he was certain it was drier than the gobi desert.

the aquarium was absolutely beautiful, in shades of blues and greens. all sorts of aquatic creatures reside behind walls of glass, swimming around without a care in the world. it was divine. you walked around with jisung, hand in hand, pointing out various sea creatures. he seemed especially taken by the sharks, excitedly swiveling his head between you and the tank whenever they swam by.

eventually, you made your way to a room in the back of the aquarium, a large rounded glass tank in front of you. the lights had been dimmed to a midnight blue, letting the pale moon jellies show themselves. they languidly floated around, a dazzling sight. they were like clouds of the sea.

a wooden bench with a black leather cushion was positioned next to one of the tanks, and you and jisung sat down to rest your feet, weary from all the standing. he was looking through his camera roll at the photos he took.

you smiled at the little things he does. you'd been noticing them much more recently. the way his lips stretched into a crooked grin when he saw something he liked, the way he pouted if a picture came out bad or too blurry. it was endearing.

but it was also odd. the last time you'd been able to identify such minuscule details about jisung was when you were fourteen years old and had the fattest crush on him known to man.

you pined over him for a good seven months, making all sorts of excuses to hang out with minho and his group of friends. most of the time, his answer was a solid no. but sometimes, when he'd sigh and say "yes, but be good", you'd try and have all sorts of conversations with him. you loved his enthusiasm and interest as you spoke, as if he was hanging onto every word.

eventually, you came to the conclusion that he saw only ever you as minho's annoying kid sibling and was only being nice to humor you. you'd laid in bed, crying into your pillow, face warm from guilt and humiliation. from that day forward, you were always wary of men. you were scared that they wouldn't like you if you were too forward.

it was incredibly foolish, you realized. you'd based this claim off of absolutely nothing at all. you'd assumed jisung didn't like you. but there was no way he did, you were a hyper and silly kid and he was a teenager focusing on sports and whatever guys did.

"hey," he said, snapping you out of your walk down memory lane. a small smile graced his pretty face. "wanna take a picture with me and the jellyfish? we can make them into matching polaroids. i know you wanted to take polaroids with your boyfriend as a like- a couple idea, so we could be killing two birds with one stone?"

it was a great idea. you scooted closer to him, and he leaned in. jisung wrapped an arm around your waist, and you softly gasped at his gentle contact.

"say cheese!" he smiled brightly and you did along with him. you didn't think you'd be smiling like this the day after ending a months-long relationship. and yet, it felt like some enormous weight was lifted off your heart. you felt...free. and happy. really happy that you were experiencing this with han jisung, out of anyone.

you were so caught up in this inexplicable feeling of joy you didn't notice the pretty pink colour on jisung's round cheeks, or how he was staring at you the entire time.

tuesday

"have you seriously never been to a drive-in movie? not once in your life?" jisung asked in shock, from where he was leaning against your doorframe. he held your list in his hand, scanning it up and down. "they're holding one tonight. guess what they're playing?"

you thought to yourself.

"hmm...some cheesy-ass movie from the 80s?" you guessed, eliciting a chuckle from jisung's lips. you'd spent the entirety of your time "sleeping" and thinking about them. he'd been plaguing your mind all day- not that you minded, though.

"close enough. they're playing grease. that's from...1978, i think?"

you sighed, getting up to run a hairbrush through your messy hair. you couldn't go out looking like shit. that would be horrid.

"is it really?" at his nod, you giggled. "damn. i thought it was the 80s. i can't really make that assumption, though. i've never seen it in my life."

the way jisung's jaw dropped to the floor was so comical it was almost cartoonlike.

"what the actual hell. you've never seen grease?" his expression was stony, and for a second you were scared you offended him. then, you remembered it was jisung, who was rarely ever serious. "get your things and get in my car. we're going right now. you cannot go another second without seeing grease."

so here you were, in the passenger seat of jisung's sleek black convertible. he was driving well, focused on the road. at one point, his hand absentmindedly drifted over to rest upon your thigh. you felt your cheeks begin to heat up. when jisung became aware of the placement of his hand, he retracted his hand in a flash, apologizing profusely. his face was beet red. it was adorable. you grabbed his hand and put it back on your thigh, much to his astonishment.

"it's okay. i don't mind." you murmured softly. "you're not hurting anyone with your hand there. and the physical contact feels nice. the warmth of your palm on my freezing leg is enough for me. makes me feel human."

jisung absolutely melted at your soft words. now this, this funny feeling in his stomach which only surfaced around you, that he yearned for day after day while he was away at university, was exactly what he craved.

if he really did succeed in making you fall for him, how would it go? he'd done some digging, and your university was only a half an hour or so away from his. he could imagine it now, so vividly it was almost a film playing in his brain on repeat. he could text you sweet messages like "good luck!" or "how was your day?" and if he felt like it, he could come see you.

he would be the best boyfriend ever. way better than that dickhead guy.

he pulled into the drive-in theater, where an assorted group of cars where already there. various people had already settled in and were watching the beginning of the movie. few families were there, but most of them were people on dates.

"do you want to get out of the car? i have a picnic blanket my roommate from university lent to me that i'll gladly lay out on the grass, if that's what makes you comfortable." jisung suggested, pulling out a patterned grey blanket from the back seat. "i'm okay with whatever you want."

"let's sit on the grass. we're on a hilly area, so we'll still have a good vantage point. and besides, from up here, you can sing your heart out."

"we can sing our hearts out." he corrected. "don't think you're getting out of this one easy, hun. be happy i'm not forcing you to learn the entire 'greased lightning' dance."

you'd always liked funny guys.

the movie began, the plot exactly how you imagined it. however, it was actually really good, with fun choreography and surprisingly good songs. jisung knew every word, an imaginary microphone magically appearing in his hand the minute he heard the first few beats of a song.

it was so fun. he'd pass the "microphone" to you, staring at you in awe when your lips parted and you began singing the melody, soft and sheepish from embarrassment. your voice was heavenly. like the song of a siren, the way you hit every note with talent and poise and then proceeded to giggle it off saying "you weren't as good as him" was absolutely insane.

at some point, you had become so incredibly engrossed in the movie. rizzo was walking through the school, singing her heart out and it was so powerful you didn't even notice the wide expanse of goosebumps covering your body.

"oh my goodness, you're shivering." jisung noticed with urgency, and you peeled your eyes away from the screen. now that your focus was no longer on the movie, you felt the chill begin to overtake you. you snuggled into jisung, trying to capitalize on the heat leaving his body.

"you're right, i didn't even notice..." you gasped slightly, your teeth chattering. jisung pulled off his coat and gave it to you.

"here, put that on." he said, getting up to grab something else from his car. what was he hiding in there?

"won't you be cold without your coat, ji?" you asked with concern. he was wearing grey sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt that wasn't made of any warm material in the slightest. he grinned, pulling out a fluffier blanket and wrapping it around the both of you.

"not anymore." he moved in closer until you felt your body against his. it was almost therapeutic. your head fell onto his shoulder, eliciting a tiny gasp from jisung's adorable lips.

the drive home was anything but silent as you excitedly rambled about the movie, explaining your favorite parts to a quietly satisfied jisung. he loved listening to you talk about things that made you happy. the way your hands moved to match your words with fluidity, the way your voice became higher with some foreign excitement. it was just like how you were when you were little.

"what are you smiling about?" you teased, noticing his adorably rosy cheeks in the pale moonlight.

"i'm sorry...i just absolutely adore listening to you talk about things you're passionate about. it's so endearing." he admitted, immediately focusing his eyesight towards the road ahead as to not see a reaction he'd be disappointed by.

if he'd just looked with his periphery, he would've noticed the flustered mess you'd become with a single response.

that night, you laid in bed, thinking long and hard about your relationship. these endeavors with jisung were exactly what you'd wished for time after time with your ex, only for him to fall short.

wait.

now that you were spending time with him again, you'd come to a conclusion. han jisung and your ex-boyfriend were uncomfortably similar, with their clothing and hair styles, their mannerisms, and their personalities. it didn't give you uncomfortable flashbacks in the slightest. in fact, you came to a massive conclusion.

you'd never gotten over jisung.

that was why you'd dated someone so similar. and you were still just as hopelessly in love with him as you were when you were a teenager.

oh shit.

saturday

you were in too deep.

every single date with jisung, you fell more and more in love with him. with his smile, his laugh, his gorgeous eyes, his caring nature, every single thing about him.

with every touch he placed on your skin, light as a feather, you felt yourself tread further and further past the point of no return. you couldn't stand it. you were running out of opportunities to confess.

what if you never saw him again after this? the next time you'd see him would probably be his graduation, and by then he might be in a relationship with someone. not a good one, because you'd come to the conclusion that nobody loved jisung like you did. even when you felt like you didn't, some core part of you kept that.

you loved passionately, most of the time confidentially. you kept your crushes to yourself. but if you had determined that you quite literally could not live without him, now that you'd grown so accustomed to seeing him every day.

you were in your sleep clothes, an oversized hoodie that was a hand-me-down from minho and flannel pajama pants when minho knocked on your door.

"good morning." he said softly, smiling at you. he held dori in his arms. "i made us breakfast. care to join me?" you loved weekends when you were with your brother.

your parents were always busy, so you'd really been raised by minho. he worked as a dance teacher outside of his studies, working late nights at the studio just to provide for the two of you. you loved your brother, to the moon and back.

you sat at the table, eating breakfast, contentedly listening to him talk about how his students were progressing nicely. you were so busy trying to get a piece of a scrambled egg onto your fork you almost didn't hear him pop the big question.

"so, um...jisung has been coming over a lot recently. care to enlighten me as to why?" he asked, almost nervously. "he's my best friend, yet he's coming over for you, and you're hanging out with him what- every night? i'm not mad at you or anything. i just wanna know the truth."

you sighed. you were much too embarrassed to admit you had any sort of feelings for jisung. it wouldn't hurt if you didn't lie...rather...skirted around the central idea, would it?

"he's been helping me cope with my breakup. i love you and i know i can tell you literally anything, but there's just something different about telling your story to a friend. you already know it, min."

minho probably did not believe your sob story one bit. however, if he didn't, he clearly didn't show it, because his lips parted to release a soft "ohhh."

"i get it. thanks for being honest." his words sent a pang directly to your heart. you hated lying to your brother. but, you were going over to jisung's house tonight and you had to make sure there was no suspicion on minho's part.

after a strenuous hour of getting ready, you were finally prepared. you took a deep breath, knocking on jisung's door. his family home was in your neighborhood, luckily, so you could just walk.

he opened the door, his eyes warmed at the sight of you.

"you've done it this time. you're the most gorgeous person i know. there's no competition. i know you're just in casual clothes, but damn." his mouth was agape, and he looked you up and down. you laughed at his words, trying to avoid the fact that your face was burning from his simple compliments. "i'm rambling, oh my god. let's go inside."

he stepped aside so you could enter. you'd always loved his house. his parents were very fond of interior design, so it was so architecturally beautiful it made you smile. the couches, walls, paintings, and doors were all color coordinated. once jisung led you through the door to his room, your lips stretched into an even wider grin.

it was so...him. rock band posters were plastered everywhere, and it was organized and minimalistic. he had a computer and some producer supplies, and in the corner of the room sat a gorgeous acoustic guitar.

"wow, it's so beautiful!" you said in awe, running a hand down the smooth wood. "i've always wanted to learn how to play. can you play some songs for me?"

he nodded, pulling the guitar off its stand.

"let me tune it real quick, and then we're good to go. any song recommendations?" he asked as he began tuning the instrument. his fingers moved swiftly, expertly. he bit his lip in concentration. "sad songs? love songs?"

"a love song would be nice. you can choose one." you responded, coming over to sit beside him. he thought for a bit, before beginning to strum a lovely chord progression. the song was on the tip of your tongue, and once he started singing, you were in for it.

i found a love, for me...darling just dive right in, and follow my lead

it was perfect. of course it fucking was. you felt your stomach flip with delight, playing into some hopeless fantasy that he was singing it for you. that he was playing the guitar so beautifully, trying to convey a message.

i found a girl, beautiful and sweet...oh, i never knew you were the someone waiting for me

you inched closer. his eyes were focused on yours, and he sang with a smile, never missing a beat.

'cause we were just kids when we fell in love, not knowing what it was

was he singing it to you? was he telling you to your face that he loved you, or were you just delusional?

but darling just kiss me slow, your heart is all i own, and in your eyes, you're holding mine

you couldn't do it anymore. he had to know. you couldn't hide it anymore.

"jisung, stop." you said shakily, and he obliged.

"what is it?" he asked, concerned. had he done something wrong? he would admit, he was carried away with his serenade because all of his feelings were so fucking real, but if he was making you uncomfortable, he'd stop instantly.

better now than never.

"um, this is gonna sound really weird, and you have every right to say no or tell me to get out..." you were rambling, and jisung was silent with an unreadable expression. "i have, like, really strong feelings for you. and it didn't just happen. i loved you when i was little and i love you now, i just stuffed these thoughts away to the back of my mind. if you think about it, my ex was just a cheap copy of you."

jisung wasn't talking. he was just staring at you with his jaw dropped.

oh shit. you fucked everything up. over a decade of friendship. ruined.

"it's okay, i'll just go, i'm so sorry...it's obvious you don't like me back." you said, humiliated. as you went to leave, you felt jisung's hand wrap around your wrist.

"did you just say i don't like you back?" jisung murmured in disbelief, shaking his head. "oh my god. you are so fucking oblivious."

you cocked your head.

"what?"

he led you to sit on the bed next to him, his skin flush against yours.

"how have you not realized i've been head over heels in love with you since we were in grade school?" he sighed. "i never pursued you because min doesn't let any of his friends date you. but i thought of you every day while i was at university. i dreamed of you when my brain was too tired to think. i dated here and there but i was a horrible, horrible boyfriend because i never wanted them. i wanted you. but you never noticed me pining over you. does that make sense?"

you nodded, fighting the tears of joy threatening to fall from your eyes. you reached a gentle hand towards jisung's, and he enveloped your hand in his, holding it tightly.

"can i...kiss you?" he asked softly, waiting for your permission. you nodded, your heart racing as he leaned in. his thumb brushed against your cheek as his lips met yours in a gentle kiss ten years overdue.

it was sweet, laced with a quiet passion that grew as he kissed you again and again. it was so lovely, almost as if fireworks were shooting off in the distance.

when he finally pulled away, his hand rested on your hip and he was breathing a little heavier, staring at you with a twinkle in his molten chocolate eyes.

"will you grant me the immeasurable honor of being mine? no lies and no miscommunication this time. i promise." he held out his pinkie, and you giggled as you curled yours around his.

"you've got yourself a promise, ji." you replied, bursting with delight.

a realization dawned on jisung. he hadn't even brought minho into the equation.

"one problem. minho wouldn't be happy with me if he found out about this. he's told his friends and i it for years- you're off-limits. but now...i just broke his rule. we're gonna have to sneak around behind his back..."

you patted your boyfriend's shoulder. god, it felt divine being able to say that.

"it's okay. he won't catch us." you laughed softly, giving jisung a hug, solidifying your love in stone.

thursday

you'd almost been dating jisung for two weeks! this was an achievement for you, because every single day you were with him felt like you were drifting away on a fluffy cloud of ecstasy. he made you unfathomably happy.

so far, hiding your relationship from minho was going surprisingly well. to try and throw him off of your trail, the three of you started going out more when minho didn't have work. you'd also convinced jisung to prioritize minho's texts and hangouts for the time being.

it was a lot easier said than done, though. minho was observant and cautious, picking up on any unusual signs and forcing you to come up with lies on the spot. he'd look skeptical, but not push the question, thankfully. however, some gut feeling told you he'd find out any day now.

how would he find out? you asked yourself. would he see you two in public from a distance? would a friend inform him? would he find out accidentally? it was a scary thought.

one night, you were laying on your bed, reading some book your mother had recommended to you. it was an amazing book, filled with intrigue and plot twists that left you reeling and begging for more. in between your legs, resting his head on your chest, was jisung.

you'd learned from him being your boyfriend that he was a total sucker for physical touch. like a koala, he was always clinging to you by any means possible.

"baby..." he whined, flipping over to rest his chin on your tummy. "what's in that book that could possibly be more important than me?"

"someone just got murdered, ji. they're trying to figure it out." you replied ignorantly, eliciting a whine from jisung. you giggled, reaching a hand down to entangle your fingers in his dark curls. he sighed dreamily as you massaged his scalp.

"boring, boring, boring." he muttered, grabbing your book out of your hands and placing it neatly onto the nightstand. "shit. how should i save your page?"

"there's a bookmark in the book! use it! han jisung, if you doggy-ear that page, i will fuck you up." you laughed loudly.

thankfully, tonight you had zero worries about minho catching you and jisung. he was working out with chan and then he had an hour and a half teaching private lessons for one of his students. he wouldn't be home until at least 8:45pm, and since it was like 6:30 you could probably sneak jisung out by 8:20pm and get a twenty-five minute grace period to make it look like nobody had been over. life was good.

all of a sudden, jisung gave you a devilish grin, and positioned himself so he could easily climb on top of you.

"ji, what are you doing?" you asked with a chuckle, reaching up to caress his soft face.

"givin' you lots of kisses, duh." he leaned down to brush his soft lips against yours, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. the kiss grew more and more heated in a blink of an eye. it happened so fast. one second he was giving you gentle kisses, like the touch of a fairy, and the next his tongue was in your mouth dancing with yours.

he pulled away after a very long makeout session, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his raw, swollen ones. he licked them with a smile, and shifted a bit so he could lean down and press wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, shoulders, and collarbone. you almost groaned at the sensation, but covered your mouth with one hand. jisung giggled at this.

"you don't need to hide those pretty noises, babe. nobody can hear us. we're alone." he snickered, before resuming his work kissing and sucking on your neck until your skin was littered with baby bruises the color of cherries. thankfully, jisung wasn't an idiot, so he only left marks in places you could easily cover with concealer or hide with your shirt.

to him, you were ethereal in this position, pressed into your bed. lips raw and parted in an "o" shape, hair splayed out in a halo around you, your chest heaving.

"you look debauched in the loveliest way possible, gorgeous." he grinned, his fingers now reaching down to the buttons of your shirt. "don't you feel embarrassed at all? i'm literally going down on you on your childhood bed."

you laughed breathily.

"shut up and kiss me again."

your response was cut short. you would have said something more, something almost provocative, if your door didn't open abruptly.

"hi, honey. i'm home early. my student was sick, so i'm gonna get started on dinner-" the scene was almost comical. you and jisung both turned your heads in slow motion to see minho standing there, a grocery bag in his hand and shock upon his face. "jisung. get the fuck off of them or i'll snap your neck."

jisung shot upright, cheeks beet red as he helped you up. minho noticed the marks on your skin instantly. he looked furious. you'd never seen your brother this way, ever.

"we have been friends for what- fourteen years? and what has been the recurring thing i have told you, time and time again?" minho hissed. jisung hung his head in shame.

"you said yn is off limits." he murmured. he slowly lifted his head to meet minho's eyes, searching for the tiniest speck of sympathy, but there was none there. "look- i can explain."

"what is there to explain, jisung?" minho snapped. "'oh, i always want what i can't have, so i'm gonna defile my best friend's sibling behind his back.'"

"min, that's not what happened." you tried. no luck. "i confessed to him first. if anything, it was me. not him. don't take this out on him just because you won't take it out on me."

"don't even say anything. i don't want to hear a single word out of you. everything i do is to protect you! i've looked out for you our entire lives. i...i love you immensely and endlessly, yn. that much is true. but i can't allow this. i wouldn't want to lose jisung because of something you did or something he did to you. and i wouldn't want to lose you because you're so hurt by someone like him." minho's voice broke. he was done. he sighed, and stormed off.

you turned to stare at jisung.

"i, um, think you should go." you murmured, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his cheek. his toned arms made their way around your waist, and he hugged you tightly.

"okay. text or call me if you need anything. let's figure this out tomorrow."

you were with jisung. you loved him so much. but what was the cost of loving him?

friday

minho wouldn't speak to you.

he left for chan's before you woke up, sending you a brief text telling you where he was. you opened the fridge to see a plate stowed aside for you, a sticky note with your name on it on top. huh. even though he was mad, he still went out of his way to make breakfast for you.

you knew you were in the wrong. it wasn't okay of you to sneak around behind minho's back, but if he was too petty to talk to you, then it'd be hopeless.

after eating, you called jisung. he picked up on the first ring, like he always did whenever you called.

"minho won't text me back. he's leaving me on read. god, he's petty when he's mad." his voice sounded a bit gravelly, meaning he'd probably just woken up. you hoped your call didn't serve as an alarm for him.

"i feel bad, ji." you murmured, flopping down onto the couch. the cats sensed your discomfort and padded over to you, rubbing against your legs and purring to try and get you to relax. "i know he would've been mad either way, but do you think he would've been less of a dickhead if we'd just been up front about it?"

"i guess. i'm embarrassed i suggested we keep it a secret. but what's past is past. now, we've got to figure something out. i love you, but he's my best friend of fourteen years. and i love him, but i've been madly in love with you since i was a kid. i don't want to lose either of you."

you smiled fondly at his sweet words. sometimes, he always knew the right thing to say to put you at ease.

"when he gets home, i'm going to talk to him. i'll text you how it goes." as you were saying this, the front door opened and he stood there, looking at you with a cold expression. you wanted to cry. "speak of the devil, he just got home. i love you, bye." you hung up, feeling absolutely powerless. but you weren't defeated yet. you still had your words.

"min," you began. "now that we've blown off some steam since last night, can we talk? jisung and i care so much about you, and neither of us want to lose you."

you followed him to his room, where you sat down on the bed beside him. he was not too enthusiastic.

"well, you shouldn't have jeopardized that by fucking my best friend." minho replied solemnly. you were infuriated.

"i haven't fucked him at all, min. don't jump to conclusions. besides, we haven't even been dating for two weeks. see, the reason we were hanging out so much is because he was helping me with a this sort of- bucket list that i had, of date ideas. and i didn't get the chance to do them with my ex, so i did them with him." you explained. minho was listening, thankfully. "and then, i realized i had feelings deep down for him i'd been harboring since i was younger. and i couldn't keep them in anymore, so i told him. and he told me he'd been in love with me since i met him."

minho nodded, his eyes still untrustworthy.

"okay. how much do you love him?" he asked.

"i love him so much it hurts to see this happening. you're his best friend and he's suffering without you. he was texting me, complaining all night. and no, i know what you're going to ask. i don't love him more than you. romantic love and familial love are on two very different ends of the spectrum."

minho was silent for a moment, reaching out to take your hand.

"i'm sorry for acting this way. i'm sorry for punishing you with silence. i've watched you grow up from a little kid with big round cheeks to the successful, loving person you are today. when you broke up with your last boyfriend, it took everything in me not to go fucking kill the guy for breaking your heart. but this, this is different. jisung is my best friend. i love him so much, and i don't know what i'd do with myself if he ever hurt you. if anybody i cared about hurt you." you gave your brother a tight hug, and he wrapped you in his arms.

"i understand. but we both know jisung isn't that kind of person."

"and you," minho whispered, and you barely caught it. "will you promise not to break his heart? i'll...i'll think about getting behind this if you do."

"i promise. i swear on my life."

that night, you lay in the grass once more with jisung, staring up at the stars. his arm was wrapped tightly around you as you pointed out various constellations with a jubilant look upon your face. god, you were adorable. he rolled you over slightly so he could press a loving kiss to your lips.

the sky was clear, the clouds pushed away to reveal an angelic array of twinkling lights, set against an ebony blackdrop.

"you can see the stars tonight." you whispered gleefully. jisung laughed.

"you can, can't you? they're really beautiful. just like you said. just being here with you brings me eternal solace." he brought your hand to his lips and softly kissed each of your knuckles. "i love you, to the moon and to saturn."

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@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

[luveline]

hi jade !! this is me resending my hotch request bc of ur recent post 🤍 i sent the one about hotch taking care of bau!reader who has a really bad stomachache, thanks so much, i think you’re amazing 💞💞💞

thank you for requesting angel! fem

You do this sad thing with your hands when you're in pain. Aaron wishes he didn't know your tell, that he'd never had reason to understand it, but he does. Your fingers, in particular your pinky, curl toward your palm frenetically, and he has an ample view of your closed off face in the chair opposite. He can pin the moment he knows you're in pain down to the minute twitch of your lip. 

He peeks at Morgan where he lays on the couch before leaning across the table to touch your arm. The jet offers little privacy, so Aaron tries to be delicate. 

“L/N? Are you alright?” 

“Mm,” you hum, too high-pitched to have come out the way you meant it. 

“What's wrong?” 

“Nothing.” You say this, and yet you can't open your eyes, leaning less than subtly away from him as though your pain is catching.

Aaron keeps his head down as he stands so as not to attract attention. You've sat near the wall, leaving an empty seat for him to sit in. “Hey,” he says, touching the crook of your elbow, wanting to fix it, soothe the twitch from your hand, “you're in pain.” 

“It's nothing.” 

“Saying it won't necessarily make it true,” he says. 

“It felt worth trying.” 

He is genuinely perturbed to see you in pain like this without explanation. “You have to tell me what's wrong.” 

“Hotch, I…” you say, your voice wrought with embarrassment as you open your eyes, “it's just my stomach hurts. That's all.” 

“Sharp pains?” 

“Just hurts. Nothing dire.” 

“How do you know?” he asks. 

“Happens sometimes.” 

He puts his arm around you, careful not to jostle your back. You're tense as a rubber band about to snap. It's unlike you to be the more rigid of the two of you, less foreign for Hotch to have softened, especially when it's you. “How often?” he asks, wary of the tears brimming like silver at the corners of your eyes. 

“Just sometimes, I don't know.” You speak in a concise, panicked tenor. 

In this line of work, it could be anything. Not eating enough, not having time to stop for breath. You could be thirsty, sick, anxious, stressed into pain. It could be purely psychosomatic or you could be injured. He can't remember you taking any blows during the last few days away. It could be your period. You might not want to mention that. 

“Y/N,” he says, falling out of boss mode now he's sure it's not going to kill you, and into someone who cares for you, “what can I do?” 

You shudder a breath, slouched under his touch. “It's not that bad.” 

It's clearly a shocking amount of pain. Your shuddering worsens as he pulls you into his side. He's prepared to sit with you until you can give him better instructions, or until the pain passes, or, God forbid, things get worse. “I'm here,” he says, rubbing your arm gently. “Try to breathe.” 

He's wondering why you might think this amount of pain is normal, or acceptable. Wondering why he shouldn't just call for medical assistance here and now, but then you start to come around, your face shining with perspiration. “Oh,” you sigh, wiping your face with your sleeve, leaning into your hand, hiding. 

“Is it getting better?” he asks. 

“I think it's anxiety or something.” Your breath slips out in disjointed huffs. 

He can't guess what it is. Have you been to the doctor? he wants to ask, but perhaps in a moment, when you're steady in yourself again. “From the jet?” 

“No. Maybe.” You frown. 

“Jack doesn't understand that I'm on a plane.” 

You lift your gaze in confusion. Aaron moves onwards.

“He doesn't understand that this is a plane. I brought him by, once, to try to explain why I can't always answer the phone. It's thick metal, you know?” It was an easier explanation than having no signal in the sky. “But he didn't get that it was something that could move. I had to take him to the airport. We watched…” He slows as your eyes meet his completely. “We watched them take off for hours. Now he doesn't get so angry when I don't answer.” 

“Jack was angry?” you ask, half incredulous. 

“A bit.” He tries to string the story together before you can realise what it is he's doing, his arm curling around your from behind, fingers making the most tenuous of circles into the very side of your stomach. A barely there sort of comfort. “It's not like him. He reminds me of his mom when he's angry.” 

Your smile is a physical relief to see. “Does he have tantrums?” 

“Doesn't every kid?” 

You talk about Jack in dulcet tones while he tries to keep the pain at bay, his arm steadfast behind you, your faces closer than they have any platonic business being. He'll pester you into doctors appointments when you touch down, but for now, he just holds you and talks to you like everything is normal. 

You cover his hand with yours when the pain starts anew, talking through it, pain in the soft line of your bottom lip. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asks. You give him a weak smile. He feels awful, but it makes his heart race. So close, and so pretty, and so upset. “Is there anything I can do?” 

An embarrassing amount of weight lies in ‘anything’. You shake your head, whispering, “Nothing. This is enough.” 

Aaron pulls you in closer and wraps both of his arms around you, hiding you from the others, an aimless attempt to protect you from a pain he can't touch. Someone puts a cup of tea on the table for you, but otherwise you're left alone for the rest of the flight.