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sytoran · 1 year

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𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐄 | 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐧𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐭.𝟐

the aftermath of your mindblowingly hot sex with the goddess of lust, natasha romanoff. as it turns out, no one escapes the consequences of their actions.

pairing: goddess!natasha x dom!fem!reader (G!P)

note: once again, howdy, folks! this is the even longer-awaited part 2 to the goddess!nat fic! i am terribly sorry for the wait, hopefully this long chapter will satisfy your needs :)

word count: 3.0k

series m.list | main m.list | join the taglist | AO3

Previously...

You, a regular law-abiding citizen, saved the gods by accident. The Goddess of Lust, Natasha, granted you one wish as a repayment. You could've had just about anything, but turns out all you need is right in front of you.

Spoiler: It ends up in mindblowingly hot sex with a certain Goddess.

Now, two months later...

"Baby…" Nataha sighs, her eyelids fluttering close as you move under her sheets.

Or, more specifically, as your tongue moves in her cunt.

There's just something about giving the Goddess of Lust the best head of a lifetime that does it for you. Maybe it's her stupidly sexy moans, or the way she twisted her delicate hands into your hair, or maybe just how sweet she tasted.

Or, maybe, it's the knowledge that you're the only one who can ever make her feel like this.

"Please, oh, fuck," Natasha whines, as you move your tongue in tight little circles against her sweet spot. Not quick enough to make her cum, slow enough to make her feel.

"Oh," she whimpers, hearing the lewd sounds of you eating out her soaked pussy on a Saturday morning. You shift under the blankets, breathing hard as it gets warm.

Worshiping the Goddess as you rightfully should was perhaps your favourite pastime, driving her wild with your fingers and your tongue and your cock.

Which is exactly what you felt throbbing in your pants when a hushed whimper of 'Daddy' falls from Natasha's sweet mouth. Your head spins at the title, just like the first time she had ever called you that.

It was half by accident, really.

On a private rented beach in Malibu, with miles and miles of space and no one else, there you laid under the shade of a palm tree, thrusting into the Goddess with a youthful vigor.

"Oh, you feel so good," Natasha cries, scratching her long nails down your bare back. She shakes with each of your thrusts, melting into your touch like your forgotten ice cream in the Malibu sun.

"Do I?" You tease dangerously, both of your orgasms dangling close to occurrence. "Mhm- Oh, yeah," Natasha responds with a lewd moan, moving her hand down to play with her clit.

That's all the extra simulation the Goddess needs before she's tumbling over the edge, clutching onto you as pound into her cunt.

"Oh, I- Oh, please, daddy!" Natasha shrieks when you harshly pinch her nipple with your free hand. It does wonders for her pleasure.

But as soon as those words fall from the Goddess' lips, she retracts like she's been scorned. You halt your movements.

"Did you just call me daddy?" You ask with a raised eyebrow, as Natasha looks away flusteredly.

"...No."

"Darling."

"No! I mean, well yes, but I didn't mean to!" She tries to move under your grasp, her cheeks turning an incarnadine pink.

You take her wrists and pin them above her head with one hand, and use the other to still her moving hips. The Goddess pouts at you, but you know better than to give in.

"Has the Goddess of Lust never called anyone 'daddy'?" You ask seriously, trying to make sense of her seemingly unorthodox shame.

"It's complicated." Natasha states, squirmimg under your inspective look. She trails her hands down to your cock again, but you deny her of that pleasure. "We're not done here, sweetheart."

"Fine," Natasha grumbles. "That's the first time I've ever called it out, like, in the heat of the moment. I'm always the one doing the seduction and the flirting, so I call my partner that if I think they'd be into it. It's never been… spontaneous, I guess."

"Oh," you say softly, tracing her rib with a ginger finger. "I think I quite like it."

"You do?"

"Mhm."

"Okay, daddy."

"Shut up, sweetheart."

"Make me."

What pulls you out of that blissful reverie is Natasha's whine. You're not in Malibu anymore, you're under Natasha's sheets.

Even then, you've never felt more fulfilled with this glorious woman by your side.

"Why'd you stop?" Natasha asks, pulling the blanket away so she can see you.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss onto her inner thigh. "Thinking."

"About?"

"You."

"Oh," the Goddess replies, evidently flustered.

"What were you thinking of?" she then says, flirtatiously. She adds on the charm of batted eyelashes, prepared for whatever you might do to her body.

What Natasha wasn't prepared for, however, was the tenderness in which you regarded her with, a serene smile and a warm glow on your face.

"What is it?" Natasha says, laughing awkwardly as you litter kisses all over her stomach. You're glowing, sickly-sweet and dumbstruck.

"I love you," you whisper. "I love you, Natasha Romanoff. I love you not because you are the Goddess of Lust but because you have the most brilliant heart I've ever had the chance to feel. I love you for everything that you are, everything that you're not. I love you for your bed hair, and your goofy jokes, and your brilliant green eyes I could melt into a thousand times. I love you boundlessly, across the worlds that divide us. And you don't have to say it back, but just know-"

You take in a deep breath, not realizing that you've spoken so much with quavering breaths like you'd die if you didn't profess your love. Like you'd die if you didn't bare your heart to Natasha. You gulp for air, stroke her face. "Just know I love you. So much. So, so, so much."

Oh.

There's silence, afterwards, like the world has stumbled on its axis and the stars have collided.

Natasha looks at you with an indescribable feeling, like her heart wants to burst out of their seams. It's only when you gently stroke her face that Natasha realizes there are tears on her face.

Why's she crying? Why do you cradle her in your arms with such a ginger tenderness? What did she ever do to deserve this kind of love?

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed it," you mumble, almost ashamed. You press another kiss on her bare stomach as an apology. "I'm-"

"No, I- Fuck, I love you too." The Goddess voices hoarsely, her shaky tone a far cry from what should be expected of a regal Goddess. "I love you too," she says again, with more confidence, almost as if it would make the words even truer.

That stupid smile is back on your face again, even wider than before. Your cheeks hurt and Natasha's heart melts.

"You love me?" you ask earnestly, and there's such an innocence and genuineness to your question that Natasha almost cries again.

The impact of 'I love you' sinks in. Natasha feels.

She's never felt like this before. She's never loved like this before.

Finally, in the sacred silence, Natasha whispers. Scared to ruin the moment. Scared to tarnish what could be.

"To every universe and back," the Goddess answers, and your world starts orbiting again.

—

Ever since that fateful day of your love confession, the two of you were inseparable. You would look at Natasha with such wonder in your eyes, wonder what you ever did to deserve this, but the Goddess would look at you the same way, and you knew everything would be fine.

She would take you to any universe you liked, across any dimension. From earth-bound lands to intergalactic islands to space. It was as vast as her love for you.

But, you were riding that high with no heed for the consequences of your actions.

You were foolish enough to stay with Natasha, dumb enough to drown out the warning signs, blindsided by the prospect of loving a Goddess.

You should've known, from the start, that you and Natasha were a race against time.

You should've known that it would end up in flames for you.

You should've known better.

—

Since the very day she was born the Goddess of Lust, Natasha had her life laid in front of her.

To exploit that thrall she was given, to seduce men and the occasional woman, to live above and beyond because she was a Goddess.

That had been her life for over decades, sitting comfortably at the top of the chain on a gold throne; Toying with hearts like it was a daytime hobby, then shattering them like glass.

She slept around for the hell of it, just because she could. Just because she was the Goddess of Lust.

Then came along a stupidly charming attorney with a coffee stain on her suit and the most unusual request.

Just like that, her world stopped revolving around what she was supposed to do, and it started orbiting around you.

And, you, were definitely not what Natasha was supposed to do.

Despite how incredible you were in bed. Despite the plethora of orgasms you had brought her to. Despite how she felt her walls to her heart tumbling down around you.

When the two of you shared that passionate confession of love in bed on that fateful Saturday morning, the Goddess knew she was done for.

Which is exactly why she's currently under the scrutiny of Supreme Headquarters: Intervention of Extraterrestrial Liabilities Directorate, aka SHIELD, aka she's completely and utterly fucked.

SHIELD was essentially the Gods and Goddeses' version of a monarchy, that was infamous for its cruel ruling and cutthroat decisions.

"You're a smart girl, Natasha, and never would I have expected something so childishly foolish to fall from your lips."

The Goddess stood in defiance. Despite all her power and her status, she seemed so small in the wide hall, paling in comparison to the mighty Gods that surrounded her.

That previous statement had been made by none other than Wanda, the Goddess of Magic. The woman was a stature of power and composure in her throne, hand poised under her chin like it was a medieval painting.

"I'm not a girl," Natasha snapped at the Goddess, fire behind her eyes. "And I'm very capable of making my own decisions, despite how foolish they may seem in your condescending point of view."

The Goddess of Magic was irritatingly unfazed by Natasha's outburst, flicking that poised hand and in a dismissive wave. God, Natasha wanted to crush that stupid hand.

"Steve, talk some sense into her. I can't bear to hear any more of her senseless arguments." Wanda said offhandedly, looking over to the God of Justice for support.

Natasha wants to retort that she isn't just spewing senseless arguments, but a warning look from the God of Justice shut her up. Of everyone in SHIELD, he was the most likely to give her a fair hearing. Hence his name.

"Natasha, we're not saying that you're incapable of making your own decisions." The blonde man reassures, pressing his hands together in contemplation. Natasha breathes harder than she should be doing.

"We're saying that what you're doing isn't the best," Steve continues, and Natasha is grateful that the eyes are not on her anymore. The God of Justice had a presence that simply demanded respect, an impeccable aura that no one would dare deflect.

"Sleeping with someone not godly is one thing, but entering a romantic relationship with a mortal, a human being, is simply…"

"Unacceptable."

Natasha intakes a short gush of air harshly at the interruption. It's Thor, God of Thunder. For a God who had lived centuries, he was painfully traditional. Narrow-minded, even.

Thor's loud, booming voice carried throughout the hall, from his electric-blue throne at the far corner. Mjolnir, his trusty hammer, was held in his big hands with a firm grasp. Natasha forced herself not to feel threatened.

Thor continued, firm and hard and oh so unforgiving. "Do you want to end up like my brother, Goddess Natasha?"

At that, the entire hall was silenced. The only thing Natasha could hear was her own sporadic breathing.

Everyone, undoubtedly, knew the story of Thor's brother.

Loki, the God of Mischief. The fallen angel, some said. The devil's incarnate, others whispered.

He had used his power for wrong, abused his status to commit the darkest things imaginable. It wasn't before he was banished from the land of Gods, never to be seen again.

Some say he's still clawing his way out of hell. Some say he's destined for a lifetime of hurt.

"Don't you fucking dare compare me to him, Thor," Natasha growls, and the larger blonde man even seems taken aback by the ferocity behind Natasha's words.

"I- I think what Thor is trying to say," Bruce frantically cuts in, in an attempt to mediate the situation.

The God of Science was a bespectacled man with quirky mannerisms, ever the peacemaker. Logic, to him, was most important of all.

"Is that you, Nat, are a Goddess," Bruce continues. "An all-powerful being that transcends the laws of space and time. You have been blessed with such power, such strength, unfathomable to lesser beings. And Y/N L/N, this earth-bound creature who lives and breathes on the very ground we carved, couldn't possibly be who you want to run off with. I mean, we- you, you're so much more than that."

"You're going to love her, Nat? Give her your heart? You, an immortal being? She's going to die some day, inevitably, and then what will be left of you? A broken, desolate mess, grieving for the rest of eternity?"

Natasha swallows harshly. She wanted to despise Bruce, hate his reasonings and refute his logic – but she couldn't, could she? He was right. Bruce was right.

But there was a part in her heart that screamed, yelled, kicked - she couldn't give you up, now. Not when she'd finally found what she's been searching for. Not when she can feel again.

Not when she's found the love of her goddamned life.

"I'm on Nat's side," Tony says, mouth full of a pink-frosted donut, slicing through the tensed silence. He spews crumbs as he talks, but Natasha doesn't think she's ever been more grateful for the man.

Tony was the God of Heroes. Brilliant but brash, proud yet arrogant, charismatic and eccentric. He was a God no one could explain in few words, and for that Natasha was immensely grateful he understood.

"True love cannot be broken," Tony says, folding his arms. "It transcends all else, goes beyond our social status and our physical capabilities and who we are as individuals. If Nat has truly found it, then who are we to judge? It shouldn't be criticized, it should be celebrated!"

Natasha locks eyes with Tony, in silent thanks. The two of them may butt heads at times due to their self-righteous natures, but in the end they were always there for each other.

However, the rest of the Gods didn't seem to quite agree. There was quiet murmuring amongst themselves until Steve began speaking again.

"Let's settle this with a vote. If majority wins, Natasha will be able to continue her pursuit of a romantic relationship with the human and mortal Y/N L/N. If not, Natasha will be forced to cut off all ties with said mortal and they are to never see each other again."

The Goddess of Lust felt her heart clench. Of course Steve would choose the fairest way to determine Natasha’s fate. Of course this would result in a losing battle for her, based on the prior reactions.

“All those in favour of the disallowance of Natasha Romanoff’s and Y/N L/N’s romantic, physical or any other relations, please raise your hand.”

Thoughts of you swam in Natasha’s mind, of you smiling while kissing her hand, stroking her hair while she fell asleep, trailing kisses up her spine on sinful nights.

Thor’s hand went up first.

“I love you boundlessly, across the worlds that divide us.” That was what you had said that Saturday morning, with a serene smile, so gentle it caressed Natasha’s heart. She remembers the warm glow of the sun, the temptations of paradise, the falsehood of the promised land.

Wanda follows suit.

How could Natasha have let it all succumb to this? Why had she let herself grow so soft and malleable around you? The walls around her heart she had spent so long constructing was so easily taken down by you. You, who wormed your way in and made a nest in the center of her universe.

The next hand that goes up is Bruce’s, albeit with an uneasy look from the man, like he didn’t want to be there anymore.

Maybe she shouldn’t have dived headfirst into love with you, professing her feelings so vulnerably. She was the Goddess of Lust, not Romance or any of that bullshit. A long-lasting relationship had been a childish fantasy, much less for someone who was meant to constantly seduce.

Like a final seal of her demise, Steve’s hand goes up, and only then does Natasha realize the tears that have fallen from the corners of her eyes.

There is a deafening silence that follows the grounding decision, and even Tony doesn’t look so aloof anymore. He’s the only one at the table who didn’t raise his hand.

Natasha swallows harshly, in an attempt to calm the building pressure within her.

She swallows again, willing the tears in her eyes to go away - no way in hell would she openly cry in front of the Gods who put her in this situation.

This time, she wishes the ground would swallow her up instead, to whisk her away from this nightmare of a reality and wake up beside you once more.

“You have until sunset to settle things,” Steve says, a painful lack of emotion in his eyes. “If you don’t coincide by the rules, you know what consequences you will have to face.”

For the first time in an eternity, ever since unknown creatures roamed the multiverse and there was no difference between dark and light, the Goddess felt helpless.

Even then, there was only one thing on her mind.

How the fuck was she going to tell you that ‘To every universe and back’ had been a bloody lie?

taglist: @natashamaximoff69 @ohsugar-honey-iced-tea @fayhar @bibliophilicbi @screechcat @rowanyaboats @nahnahnahwhat @the-night-owl-blr @nemowevoli @wannabe-fic-reader @natsxwife @wandsmxmff @enanna-h @jemilyswhor3 @manyfandomsfanvergent @jlsammy23 @spongebobs-tie1 @kiyozoe6778 @lovebelt05 @girllcver @godsfavouritelesbiann @natashaswife4125 @ezay @forthelesbians @wlwfanfictionss @forthelesbians @cowxpoke @supaheroine @saqua14 @olsensnpm @33_mrvl @gay4ols3n @knellyc30 @eatkobi @stitch26gp @cqllarbqne @lovelyy-moonlight @diannaswhore @wandaromanoff69 @shuriri4life @inluvwithfictionalwomen @Cooldogs02 @jedi-athen-orion @alyciaddict @blackqueensforeva @lovelyy-moonlight @gingerninja1993 @yourfavdummy @iliketigolbitties @scarlttolsn @blackbirdv98 @mxxnligxt @riomiyawakisstuff @alex4424 @0DeadandCold0 @mr.romanoff @mandy-asimp @idontwannabehereatm @daenerys713 @xxsekhmet @marvel_simp @maowlxslay @lizbugwanda @peggycarter3 @flositaa @dooblekhay @aliherrerasz @theo-021 @hopelesslyfalleninlove @secretbackrooms @natasha10273 @justyourwritter69 @theo-221b @wandaromanoff69 @eatkobi @lovelyy-moonlight @morganismspam23 @unexpected-character @rdfgfv

ok i’m literally so tired while posting this ‘cos i just got out of a seven-hour flight like yesterday, but i reallyyy wanted to post this because i haven’t posted anything in so long. anyways I HOPE YOU LIKE THE LORE and just a recap for everyone before part 3:

anyways it’s all set up for more angst and hardcore smut (yes i promise that is in part 3)

natasha - goddess of lust

carol - goddess of galaxies

wanda - goddess of magic

steve - god of justice

thor - god of thunder

bruce - god of science

tony - god of heroes

y/n - basic bitch

#natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #bottom natasha romanoff #sub natasha romanoff #top reader #dom reader #gxg smut #wlw smut #x reader #natasha romanoff #marvel smut #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader angst #natasha romanoff x reader fluff #goddess natasha

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mapileonxputellas · 2 months

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Beckham II: 3 Nerves

The third part is finally here! I hope you enjoy.

Masterlist can be found here.

9th February 2023

“Breaking news this lunch time, Sarina Weigman had named her squad for the Arnold Clark cup and included in the squad for the first time in nearly 4 years is Y/N Beckham.” England squads weren’t typically breaking news on the main news channels but this was no ordinary squad announcement. “Widely considered as one of the best players on the planet, Beckham has not been including in an England squad since the 2019 World Cup and her return dominated the press conference.”

Squad announcement press conferences are usually comminated by a few stories, the surprise inclusions, the ones who don’t quite make the cut. However when the list was read out it was immediately clear what all the questions would be about today as the eyes of world football turned to Sarina.

“Sarina can you tell us more about Beckham’s inclusion? Why has this decision been taken now after 4 years?”

“I know you’re all probably very interested in that so I’ll try and answer all of your questions. This hasn’t been a simple process for either party, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been watching her since I became England manager but it’s not that simple and we had to respect the fact that Y/N did not want to be called up. Over the past few weeks I’ve been working closer with her and we’ve agreed that now is the right time to see if we can make progress.”

“The squad has changed a lot since then but there are still players who would were in the squad in 2019, have you spoken to them about this?”

“I have not, I’d like to think that all players support each other and I know my players well enough to know that they will do all they can to make Y/N feel welcome in this environment both on and off the pitch.”

“Do you have any concerns around her desire to play for England and play for the badge. Will she have lost that fight in the past four years?”

“I can not prove that to you and I guess none of us will know the answer until she plays for England again but I would not pick any player I had those concerns about. I’ve watcher her play a lot for Barcelona and over this past year especially I’ve seen a freedom to her play. I just hope that we can all see that side of her in an England shirt.”

“David, were you shocked when the announcement was made?”

“I mean obviously we spoke about prior to the announcement but when she told me I wasn’t exactly shocked. It just annoyed me that people questioned her mentally because she is so strong now.”

…..

Everyone could tell you were anxious. Since the announcement on Thursday you’d been quieter than usual in training, your usual sweet laughter which your teammates loved had been replaced by a strained giggle and they could see you’d been putting pressure on yourself in every department.

Everything had to be perfect.

In the four days since your decision had been made public you’d received support from all your teammates but you could see they were also worried. Many of them had been here when you joined, they’d seen the aftermath and many of them had been your shoulder to lean on for months after.

Many of them watched on now as you retreated into your room, barely giving a second glance to the games currently taking place in the dining room, a tradition you were a usual member of the night before an away game.

Alexia and Mapi had noticed the changes just like everyone else, the three of you had a strong connection both on and off the pitch. Alexia had become an older sister figure to you and Mapi was your platonic soul mate. They knew your habits unlike anyone else and when the notebook you used for anxious tattoo scribblings had been out the entire journey to Mallorca it was clear your mind was elsewhere.

“You grab the pillows.”

“I’ll grab the blankets.”

The two of them scurried off to their own rooms, finding their entrusted items before meeting back at the door which they knew you would be behind. You wouldn’t have gone outside, your shy nature meant you struggled to have confidence in new cities, preferring to explore with others rather than alone as the sun went down.

Alexia knocked on the door, a moment of panic striking as they thought you weren’t going to answer before the door creaked open. Your wide-eyed figure stood in the crack, still in the tracksuit you’d travelled in rather than pyjamas.

“What’s going on?” The tree of you quite often spent the nights in each other’s hotel rooms, though those meetings were usually pre-planned.

Only you knew from the worried expressions on their faces this wasn’t a call to watch the latest film that had been released. “We’re worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

You should have known that answer was never going to satisfy them. “Please can we come in.”

It wasn’t even worth trying to persuade them, not really. “Sure.” They couldn’t miss the sigh you let out as the door swung open. “Make yourself comfy.”

In the matter of minutes you’d gone from sprawling over the double bed alone to shuffling between the two players, being welcomed into the arms of Alexia as the three of you shuffled under the duvet.

“We’re worried about you.” MarÍa admitted, smoothing down the hair draped around your face. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure because I bet if we looked in that notepad we’d find more anxious doodles than before. You’ve barely spoken two words to anyone since the news broke out.”

“I read an article-“

“Didn’t I tell you to stop that.” Alexia scolded you. “Those journalists don’t know anything about you.”

“But they don’t know that.” You argued back. “They’ll be reading about how ‘cocky’ I am on and off the pitch, how I flaunt my money, how I think I ‘own the team’.”

“If they believe that then they really have no eyes. Then they’ll see how you’re one of the shiest players on the team, they’ll learn how you could live in mansion but donate so much money to charity, they’ll see how much you work on the team as a whole. You do everything for football and they need to see that.”

“If they don’t love the person they’ll come to know then that’s on them.” Alexia agreed with her.

“Are you sure this isn’t about a certain blonde centre back?” MarÍa teasingly questioned you. “Maybe this isn’t about you being nervous about the articles and more about going into gay panic around Miss Williamson.”

“I told you that in confidence that you’d never bring it up again.” It was true, a few years ago you had confided in the two of them that you used to have a small (very large) crush on Leah at the time.

“And I’m tired of you being the third wheel in our flat, you’ve rejected every opportunity for me to set you up with one of my friends so now I have to think that it’s because you’re still pining for the girl.”

“I’m not pining for anyone, it was a stupid crush which has gone in the four years that I haven’t spoken to the girl.”

“Would you like to speak to her again?” Alexia asked.

“I mean obviously I’m going to have to, she’s the captain of the team.”

“Message her now.”

“No.”

“Why not?” I could only think of a million reasons why I wasn’t about to do that.

“Because like I said, I haven’t spoken to her in nearly four years and it would be weird for me to just message her the night before we see each other again.”

“So lets role play it then, you walk into the hotel tomorrow and she’s there, what are you going to say?” Alexia asked the question you’ve been asking yourself all week.

“Hi.”

Both of them looked like they wanted to tear out both their own and your hair. “Ok you can’t just say that.”

“What else do you want me to say?”

“How are you? Ask her about her life?”

“You want me to speak to the girl for the first time in years and ask her basically how she’s been since we went from speaking every day to unfollowing each other on social media and avoiding any chance of meeting since then.” You needed better friends in situations like this. “I’m not going heavy on our first conversation.”

“You will need to talk about.”

“I know but it’s not just her I need to have that conversation with, I was close with a lot of them and now I’m not. They should be just as involved in that conversation as Leah is.”

“Maybe you could design her a little tattoo, something like ‘I love Y/N’ on her forehead.” MarÍa teased you. “Matches your ‘I love Leah’ on your chest.”

“Shut up, just so you know I’ll never stop cockblocking you and Ingrid, I’ll be round for tea when I get back.”

“Bonnie told me she wants to live with me all the time by the way, said something about her mum abandoning her.”

“Fuck off MarÍa.”

….

The first person to reach out to you wasn’t exactly someone you expected. Mary Earps wasn’t exactly in your friendship group back in 2019, though because she was a part of that squad she was one of the players who you unfollowed in the following unfortunate events. You definitely therefore were not expecting to see her name pop up as you made your way through the airport, heading out to the car which would take you back to your parents’ house before you headed to the team hotel later on in the evening.

@1maryearps: See you later mate, we can’t wait to have you back x

Your emotions were so all over the place that maybe you should have expected this simple message to bring tears to your eyes. Maybe that meant you’d have at least one person on your side tonight.

You spent most of the meal with parents and siblings trying to do anything to avoid the thoughts about what was happening tonight coming back. You spoke to Harper about her homework, Cruze about his latest holiday and Romeo about his girlfriend. Brooklyn could almost sense your nervousness and kept up the conversation, which was all fine until you had to leave.

They knew how big this moment was and each gave you an individual goodbye before you got back into the car. As much as you would have liked to have taken your dad’s offer to drive you, this was all about being normal and being drove by David Beckham didn’t really give off that vibe.

You’d made this drive a million times before, only this time it seemed to take half the time and before you knew it the doors to St George’s Park were in view.

The only person in view was a single man holding a video camera, obviously preparing for the players’ arrivals This was hard and yet you knew this was probably the easiest step, he didn’t know you. You got out from the car, flashing a small smile to the camera as it trained on your every move, making sure to say a thank you to the driver, you turned to head inside.

“How are you feeling Y/N?” The camera man asked.

“Excited.” You couldn’t exactly tell him you were shaking inside. “I can’t wait to be back with this amazing team.”

“Two goals from you today….”

“All thanks to my teammates.” It was only the truth, you were basically set up for both goals by Aitana, you couldn’t do anything but put them in the back of the net.

“Good luck.”

“Thank you very much.”

If you were known for one thing it would be your punctuality, in fact you almost had a fear of being late. Maybe you’d done it on purpose this time to avoid greeting teammates in front of the camera but you were the first here judging by the table in the reception area being full of keys.

“Y/N it’s good to finally meet you in person.” Anja, one of the members of the England management team greeted you. “I hope you’re feeling well.”

“I’m glad to be here,” You settled for that. “I can’t wait to get back on that pitch now.”

“Well we’re glad to have you here. Here’s your key, we’ll meet in the dining area for a quick debrief at 8 and then you’ll have the night to yourself. Training schedules for the week are in your key pack.”

“Thank you.”

This place hadn’t changed one bit, from the entrance all the way up to your rooms you could trace the steps without even looking. You could hear noise out in the corridor but you stayed put, waiting for the clock to tick to 7:50 before making your way downstairs. With it being ten minutes early no one was there but Sarina and the coaching staff. Could this technically count as your first impression to them?

Their eyes trained on you as you entered the room. “Hey, thank you once again.”

“Stop saying thank you, this is all on you.” Sarina instructed, giving you a firm yet welcoming hug, an action which was repeated by the others. “Go and take a seat.”

“Thank-“ Maybe not. “Ok Sarina.”

You didn’t really know what to expect from the others, the squad was definitely a mixture of youth and experience. However even some of the more established players like Alessia and Ella were unknown to you on a personal level.

Thankfully maybe the first ones in were some of the younger players, Jess Park and Ebony Salmon were both the epitome of excitement as they entered the room saying a quick hello to the staff before slightly pausing when they found me sat on the first row.

“Hi.” You knew it was on you to make the effort. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Jess said taking the seat next to me. “You’re killing it at Barcelona.”

“Thank you, I’ve enjoyed watching you play this season. You’ll be an asset at city when you return.” You loved studying young players and watching their development. Jess was no difference in that, plus it helped to build up that connection on the team.

The volume in the room increased as more players entered. Some like Laura Coombs and Katie Zelem gave you a quick smile before taking their seats, other youngsters gave you a quick welcome.

The first real re-introduction you had was when Millie and Rachel entered, your eyes instantly connecting and it was Rachel who led the two of them over. You had always loved the two of them and almost let out a sigh of relief when they both greeted you with hugs, repeating how glad they were to see you. Lucy and Jordan followed suit, the two of them messing about and pulling you into a tight hug before taking their seats.

It was however the final people to enter the room that you were the most nervous about. Maybe you should have been thankful that when Keira, Georgia and Leah entered the room the meeting was about to start and all you could do was send a glancing look their way before Sarina had eyes on her.

She went through the logistics, just like happens every time before she got into the depths of the squad. “It would seem like this is the squad for reintroducing yourself. Laura hasn’t been with us since 2020 and Y/N in 2019. We just want everyone to remember that they’re here for a reason and we all play for England, we’re all a team.”

You blocked everything else out, vaguely scribbling down on your phone some notes about the timings and rooms you were needed in but it was all a bit of a blur. You took your time at the end speaking to some of the other girls, no-one seemed to be making a huge fuss about the situation but the trio had disappeared again and you knew you had to speak to them tonight before this started to interfere with the rest of the camp.

Thankfully you managed to find them, the three of them tucked away in the corner of the dining room, huddled around a laptop playing something in German.

“Hey.” Your voice almost cracked as you broke through the silence. “It’s good to see you all.”

You should have predicted really that Keira and Georgia would be your road in, though the two of them were fierce on the pitch they really were softies off it and you were almost knocked off your feet when they bounded up to you, both their arms wrapping around you in a hug.

“We can’t believe you’re actually here.” Georgia said. “This is just crazy.”

“It’s definitely different.” Leah finally joined in and that was the moment you knew even as she joined in the hug, she was the one who would be the toughest to crack. She wasn’t going to let you in just as easy but the captain part of her probably forced her to not let it show around others. “Glad to have you back on the team.”

“Thank you.”

“Take a seat.” Keira glanced to the free chair next to Leah. “We were just watching Georgia make a fool of herself, want to join?”

“Yeah I’d like that, I’d like that a lot.”

#woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso x reader #beckham #barcelona femeni #lionesses #woso fanfics #woso community #leah williamson #engwnt #lionesses x reader #lionesses imagine

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

Text

Party Games Aplenty

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: Just a funny little interlude where I get to the club rink aftermath with Reader lolol, also featuring a very chaotic Lucifer trying to play matchmaker- This is kind of like what I had mentioned in the past where Reader ends up playing some "kiss, marry, kill" lmao- I'm writing another interlude that comes directly after this with more fluffy stuff so you guys could probably look forward to that too hahahaha!

As the first rays of the morning filtered through the curtains, your eyes reluctantly fluttered open as the hangover finally hit you full force.

As fun as it was to overindulge in the festivities of the night before, you were starting to regret not being careful enough.

You forced yourself to sit up, biting back a groan when the room spun slightly.

How you even managed to return to the hotel, much less your own bed, was but a fuzzy memory.

But when you raised your hands to rub the sleep out of your eyes, you noticed the dark sleeves of a coat that didn't belong to you.

Wait...

Wasn't this Vox's blazer?

You didn't even get to wonder how it came into your possession before the smell of his cologne hit your nose.

It instantly took you back to last night, the first time you noticed the scent was when you had literally fallen on top of Vox because he'd lost his balance on his skates.

Then again when he'd stepped in close to check if you were okay after that exchange with a flirty drunkard.

It wasn't a fragrance you initially expected, minty with some hints of citrus to make a refreshing and crisp scent-

But honestly it was better than what you guessed which was just the smell of new computer parts-

A small blush worked onto your face as you reminisced the night before, your numbing migraine mostly an afterthought by this point.

Had he leant this to you...?

A small bashful smile appeared on your face, tugging the coat closer as you remembered the genuine charming smile that had gotten you so interested in the overlord in the first place.

Huh, maybe you should call him-

"Hello my dear! Any reason to be so smitten this early in the morning?"

"HOLY SHI-"

You were so busy fawning over Vox and his chivalry the night prior that you didn't notice Alastor suddenly pop up next to you on the bed.

So when the radio demon had suddenly mentioned something- you practically screamed.

Thank goodness you didn't fall off the bed this time, but boy did that give you a scare.

Also smitten? Bitch who's smitten it wasn't you-

"Huh-??? What the hell are you doing in my room?! It's too early for any of your games you old weirdo!"

"Hahaha! Oh I'm not here to play any games fawn! I merely came to fetch you at Charlie's request!"

You just rolled your eyes at the deer annoyed, rubbing at your eyes once more as you swung your legs over the edge of the mattress.

"Charlie's looking for me? Why?"

"Why don't you head downstairs and find out?"

You just glared at Alastor for giving you such a vague answer, to which he simply shrugged and grinned wider.

Cheeky old bastard.

You were too busy being irritated with the antique media overlord that by the time you'd come downstairs to meet with the rest of the group-

You actually missed the odd looks they gave you.

Not that you would've noticed anything anyway when your mind was preoccupied with the delectable aroma that wafted from the kitchen.

"Oooooh! Lucifer! You made pancakes?"

"Why not? I had some time and Charlie asked if I could."

"Can I have some?"

"Sure! Just help yourself!"

You skipped past Lucifer happily, grabbing a serving of pancakes before sitting down at the table with everyone else and digging in.

Still, you seemed to just happily munch away in your own world until Angel finally spoke up.

"Sooooo... wanna explain who's jacket that is toots?"

You almost choked on your food in surprise.

Only then did you realize the amused or curious gazes everyone else had on you.

No wonder Alastor didn't say or do anything else when you had just stomped out of your room.

That old fuck-!

"It's Vox's blazer, he just leant it to me."

You mumbled hastily, poking at your food and avoiding everyone's eyes.

This was... kinda embarrassing.

"Did he try to charm your pants off or something?"

"What? No! He's just a good friend- that's kind of it."

Lucifer let out a long whistle before he sat down next to you with a playful grin, using his magic to make the apron he was wearing disappear.

You were not quite as enthused as the king of hell.

"Hooooh boy, seems like someone got friendzoned!"

You just rolled your eyes at the king of hell, tipping his hat in retaliation so he had to fix it.

You getting friendzoned- as if.

"I don't really even remember what happened last night, who brought me back to the hotel?"

Vaggie raised an eyebrow at you, crossing her arms with an amused grin.

That made you just the teensiest bit concerned.

"Vox did, you were drunk out of you mind so he went ahead and took you back here."

"Hedidwhatnow-"

You thought it was either Angel or Charlie that would've taken your wasted self back to the hotel-

Not a specific flat-faced overlord.

Wouldn't he have just found your situation hilarious?

Well, maybe he did-

But that still didn't explain why he'd go through all of that effort to take care of you.

"Uh ohhhh, looks someone's hit by Cupid's arrow!"

"LUCIFER PLEASE-"

As the table erupted in laughter, you just stewed in embarrassed silence.

Vox was such an idiot-

You could've taken care of yourself.

And still you were more than giddy from his actions.

Geez.

This was so confusing...

Vox himself wasn't actually faring much better than you were.

Given that he freed up his weekend at your request-

He wasn't really doing anything this early in the day.

Instead, the overlord was just staring up at the ceiling trying to come to terms with the realization that slapped him in the face last night.

Was he really in love with you?

What if he was just mistaking this fondness?

After all, he never had this kind of... relationship with anyone.

He'd just been looking through your past conversations and pictures in an attempt to really make heads or tails of his feelings-

When his phone's ringtone suddenly blared out.

Vox fumbled with it from shock, only to get even more panicked when he realized it was you who was trying to call him.

Oh FUCK.

What was he even going to say to you after last night?!

He was absolutely not ready for this-

Eventually though, he'd managed to gather enough of his bearings to answer the call.

"Hey dollface, did you need anything?"

It was silent for a little bit and the overlord almost thought you'd just accidentally pressed the button.

Until he heard Lucifer's giggling from the other end.

What the fuck was the guy doing with your phone?!

"Wha- What are you doing with this phone?!"

"Oh calm down, we're just playing some truth or dare! This was just one of your dear (Y/N)'s!"

"Truth or dare?? This early in the day???"

"Angel's idea, she just agreed. But don't worry- there isn't any booze. You're welcome to join in if you drop by!"

Vox sighed in mild irritation, of course you'd agree to play this stupid game.

He glanced over at the digital clock by his bedside, it wasn't even noon.

"Hello? You still there TV man?"

"I'll be at the hotel in ten, don't let (Y/N) do anything stupid."

Lucifer only chuckled and tossed the phone back to you, waving off your queries when you had asked if Vox said anything.

It did strike you as peculiar when you were simply dared by him to hand over your phone unlocked, it was such a simple task.

Unlike the dares you'd been feeding the others-

Which were...

Hilarious to say the least.

Especially now that Vaggie had her long hair done up in such an obnoxious style and Husker was wearing a dress.

It would've made you feel bad if the situation just wasn't so funny.

"Vox?! Where are you going?!"

"I'll tell you later when I get back."

"Not like that you aren't!"

"What's wrong with my suit this time?!"

"If you're heading where I think you are, it's not dressed like that!"

Vox could only sigh in exasperation when Velvette ran after him, he hastily just threw on the outfit he was familiar with and practically bolted out the door.

Only, he didn't quite realize that in his haste- his bow tie wasn't so properly done and he'd even forgotten his hat.

The youngest Vee wanted to facepalm at the frenzied mess her colleague was at the moment, but instead flicked her hand to put immediately him into a better prepared outfit.

He still had his white long sleeved dress shirt but his coat had instead shifted into a button down vest with the same striped pattern, a necktie replaced his signature bow and his hat was now on his head as well.

The overlord's slacks had gone from black to a dark navy to complement his vest, his shoes remained unchanged.

Vox just looked down at himself confused, he looked even dressier than usual?

"There, you'll still look sharp even if you completely lose it!"

He decided not to say anything in reply, his mind blitzing about way too many things at once to properly retort.

The overlord waved back to acknowledge Velvette before quickly rushing out the doors, swiftly travelling through some wires to get to the hotel.

By the time he had arrived, you were about to chug a beverage that even Vox couldn't recognize.

Hastily making his way towards you in a zap of blue electricity, he plucked the glass out of your hand and just gave you his signature grin.

He didn't know, but you'd noticed his expression shifted from worry to that trademark smile.

Not that you would even be able to mention it, being shocked from his sudden arrival and all.

Vox took a wiff of the concoction and immediately cringed, it was like someone had mixed up every kind of alcohol into one drink.

Ew.

"Playing party games without inviting me? That's kinda cruel dollface."

Everyone aside from a certain king of hell seemed shocked at the arrival of your flatscreened friend.

Your eyebrows furrowed for a moment as you looked at Vox, just how did he know about what you were doing?

The overlord merely shot you a curious smile, even he had no idea why you were looking at him like he was a puzzle to be solved.

It took no less than a minute for the pieces to fall into place, then the whole situation finally made sense to you.

"Lucifer you fucking snitch!"

"Eh? What are you talking about (Y/N)? I didn't do anything!"

All eyes were suddenly on the king of hell, and Vox couldn't help but start to feel confused.

Was he really baited into arriving?

Not to mention he actually fell for it.

Did he really just get played?!

"That's why you wanted my phone earlier! Why you little-"

"Well, you know what they say- the more the merrier!"

Vox just shook his head in disbelief as he watched you practically chase Lucifer all around the hotel lobby.

And to think he'd worked himself up into a near panic because he was unsure of the messes you'd get into playing Truth or Dare.

He looked back at the glass in his hand, swirling the beverage with a raised eyebrow.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you."

"I could gather as much from the smell, but thanks for the warning. What's in this anyway?"

"Every kind of booze that the bar has to offer, it'll probably get anyone tipsy."

"And you guys dared (Y/N) to drink this???"

Husker just casually shrugged at the technology overlord's response.

Vox didn't even bother to question why the feline was wearing a stupidly poofy dress either-

"They took up the dare, you'd honestly come in at just the right moment."

The overlord just rolled his eyes, his timing was... kind of spot on.

Well, when has it not been?

He was just minding his own business conversing with the hotel's resident bartender when a random pillow was suddenly thrown at his face, hitting his screen with a light 'paff'-

"Sorry Vox!"

You looked at him apologetically, twiddling your fingers as he just shook his head again.

So you were the culprit.

Vox couldn't help but just chuckle at your meekness, this chaos wasn't anything new to him.

Though you just giggled when he shot you an amused smile, the others in the room totally missing it when Angel suggested they play another game.

"Come on! Let's play some two truths and a lie! That's a lotta fun!"

"Dude, you're just going to lie about everything."

"Whaaaat? No I'm not!"

"I don't see why not."

All eyes were immediately on Vox, surprised he'd even entertain such a menial thing.

He simply shrugged, moving away from the bar to stand next to you.

You just looked up at him with wide eyes, he's willing to play a game like this-?

With all of you??

"It's just a game, nothing to get too worked up about."

Lucifer audibly snickered at his words, causing the technology overlord to fling a pillow in his general direction.

Of course the fallen angel simply dodged it-

Sure-

It was a little hypocritical considering how he reacted to learning that you were playing truth or dare-

But that didn't really need to be said.

After a few rounds of the game however, Vox was slowly starting to regret agreeing.

Especially when it had basically turned into a QnA directed at him.

The only thing that gave him even an ounce of respite was the fact you could answer some of the questions.

You really knew him well.

"So you can seriously just display anything on your face?"

"Emotes, pictures, videos, games, you name it. Anything digital I probably could."

"I actually wonder what would happen if I plugged an actual console into your head-"

"Doll, as much as I let you get away with things- that's where I draw the line."

Given that you were all just sitting around the lobby, you leaning on Vox wasn't all that surprising.

It felt natural for the both of you, comfortable even.

"Awwww come on? Why not? Let me play Mario kart on your face-"

"Hard pass dollface, hard pass."

That question caused the both of you to fall back into your typical banter, nearly forgetting everyone else was still there until Lucifer spoke up.

"Fine fine, we get it- you both know each other well. Let's play something more interesting! So (Y/N), kiss, marry, kill anyone in this room?"

"We're shifting games now?"

"Eh?! Why me?!"

"Why not?"

You couldn't form a retort to that, giving your techy friend an annoyed side-eye when he couldn't stop snickering.

"Well fine! I'm definitely killing Alastor-"

You had to elbow Vox when he started openly laughing, you didn't even say that just to echo your buddy.

You really just found Alastor ridiculously creepy.

"I'm not saying that for you Samsung, the old geezer is just way too annoying and creepy!"

That comment just made the overlord laugh harder, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his antics.

"Anyway- kiss... Angel probably? He's got experience so I probably wouldn't regret it."

"Well ya ain't wrong toots."

The spider proudly said, causing you to shake your head and wave him off.

You didn't mean to feed the guy's ego, but you honestly probably just did.

"And marry Vox. That's a no brainer."

"Wait what-"

Vox hadn't been paying attention to the conversation much, instead just stealing glances at you that kind of went unnoticed.

So when you said "marry" and then his name in tandem, his brain kind of just froze.

"Yeah, you take care and watch over me- plus you're like my best friend- so if I had to I'd just pick you."

The overlord didn't know whether he wanted to smile or just blank.

Was that a friendzone???

What literally just happened-

"Plus you're rich, so like- I could literally live in luxury-"

"You can be kind of a bitch you know that?"

"Ha! Takes one to know one!"

"Why you little-!"

"Awwww you loooooooove meeeeeee!"

Vox couldn't even fire back at that, just crossing his arms and huffing as you devolved into a laughing fit at his expense.

And it wasn't like he could stay annoyed with you either, even if you really liked pushing his buttons in every which way possible.

All he could do was smile and grab a nearby couch cushion to playfully hit you with it.

"Naaaaah! As if, keep dreaming dollface!"

Oh if only you knew how true your words were.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #get off my screen series #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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thisissirius · 2 months

Text

apparently i started a safe haven baby fic and never finished it? i guess this might be part one of something longer? who knows. safe haven buck/eddie, safe haven baby, adoption, girl dad buck

Buck doesn't mean to become an emergency foster parent. It happens, of all times, during the lawsuit. He’s used to spending most of his days off with Eddie and Chris; playing video games with Chris, helping with homework, or just hanging out with Eddie. Maddie tells him to just get over himself and call Eddie already, but Buck’s not even sure Eddie still wants to be friends with him, or will ever want him around again after their supermarket fight. To stop himself from leaving a pathetic voicemail on Eddie’s phone, Buck goes on a research binge and ends up filing to become an emergency foster carer. Thankfully, Eddie does still want him around and they rebuild their friendship on the existing foundations. It becomes something much more solid, integral to who Buck wants to be as a person, and he almost forgets about his application and the aftermath until Eddie comes around and sees the renovations Buck’s made to the apartment.

“What’s the extra room for?”

Buck almost says DCFS told me I needed an extra bedroom to become a foster parent but instead he blurts out, “For when you and Chris stay over, obviously.”

The expression on Eddie's face makes Buck's throat dry and the subject drops.

Then someone decides to take advantage of the Safe Haven law and leave a baby girl at the station.

Reaching into the box, the alarm finally shutting off thanks to Eddie’s hand on the button, Buck is gentle with the baby as he pulls them free from the basket. He cradles the tiny body in his hands and feels his heart in his throat. “They’re so tiny.”

Eddie nods, brushes his fingers against the top of her head, then unwraps the blankets slightly. “A girl. We should get her checked out, let Cap know. There’s protocols.”

“I know,” Buck says, readjusting the baby and holding her against his body. There's a small birthmark on her cheek and he feels his heart stutter. It's not as vivid as his.

Bobby takes one look at the baby and sighs. “I’ll call social services. They’re going to want to take her—”

The baby grizzles and starts to wake, batting her small first against Buck. She starts to cry, filling her lungs and letting everyone in the vicinity know she’s unhappy. “Hey,” Buck says, rocking her a little, heart breaking at the scrunched up face she’s making. “It’s alright, darling girl. We’ll get some food, yeah? Find you something to eat. Something warm to wrap you in, how about that?”

With a small gurgle, the baby huffs, cries cutting off into hiccups and he rocks her, wanting nothing more than to make her happy. When he looks up, Bobby’s got a contemplative look on his face and Eddie—Eddie looks soft, smile warm, eyes meeting Buck’s without question.

“Cap,” Buck says, just so that he doesn’t have to stare at Eddie anymore, “when you call social services, let them know there’s an emergency foster carer working at the station.”

Bobby raises his eyebrows. “Who?”

“Me.”

There’s paperwork, a lot of phone calls, and someone comes into the station to do the preliminary checks and to have Buck fill out his side of the paperwork, but eventually he’s in place as the foster carer for the tiny baby and it’s only then, with the baby tucked into the crook of his arm, fast asleep after some warm milk, that it hits Buck.

“Fuck,” he whispers softly, then winces. “Oops. Don’t remember that, baby.”

“Not sure she’ll remember this,” Eddie says, sliding into the seat across from Buck’s. “What name did they settle on?”

Buck chews on the inside of his cheek, thumb brushing against the baby’s cheek. “There was no note with the baby, or the form they leave for the mom to fill out. I was thinking maybe Lily.”

The expression on Eddie’s face is unreadable, but the soft smile on his face hasn’t shifted. He leans against the table. “Because of the birthmark?”

Startled, Buck nods. “Kinda looks like one, doesn’t it?”

“A little,” Eddie agrees. They lapse into a comfortable silence, broken only by Lily’s breathing. Buck is fascinated by her face, the tufts of her hair, the small fist curled on top of the blanket. When Eddie starts talking, it takes effort to look away from her. “The extra room,” Eddie starts, “you did that to become a foster carer?”

Buck doesn’t want to have this conversation, but he can’t run away. Not if it means jostling Lily. “It was during the—”

“—Yeah—”

“—I missed Chris,” Buck says, feeling the lump in his throat. “I wanted to call but I—researched instead, I guess, and there’s so many kids, Eddie.”

“I know,” Eddie says, quietly. He looks sad. “Lily’s not one of them.”

Buck feels his heart skip a beat and shakes his head. “She will be, eventually. I can��t keep her forever.”

Eddie hums. “No, maybe not, but right now, you can make all the difference to her.”

“She won’t remember it,” Buck protests. “She’s so young.”

“You underestimate what a little kindness can do,” Eddie says, pushing out of his chair and rounding the table. He rests a hand on Buck’s shoulder, slides it around his neck and into his hair. Buck hardly dares breathe, wondering when their tactile friendship became this. “Think of what she’ll remember with the amount of kindness you can give her.”

The sound of Eddie’s footsteps gradually fade, and Buck’s left alone with Lily. He doesn’t know how to process Eddie’s words, or his mood, so he focuses back on the little girl in his arms. She really is beautiful, and her birthmark blotches out into the shape of a lily. At least, a misshapen one. He runs a thumb over it, wondering if his looked like anything when he was a baby. He doesn’t have the pictures, never will, and he tries not to think of his childhood. Though he can’t help but think of his parents; they're a great example of what not to do with children and he won't be like them.

"She's not yours," Athena's voice warns gently in the back of his head. He knows, he does, but that doesn't stop a feeling settling low in his stomach when he holds Lily, brushes his lips over the crown of her head.

Mine, it says. Mine.

spoiler alert: she does become his!! another little snippet for you:

"What?"

"It makes sense. If you move in, we can rent out your place and we'll have money spare for Lily and Chris both." Eddie feels cold; it's the nerves, right? God, he's such an idiot, what is his mouth saying?

Buck's mouth parts. "Do you mean it?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, not even hesitating. Apparently his mouth is as fed up with his pining as Hen is with hearing it. "It also means we can split shifts if necessary, and Lily's never alone. Carla's here at other times and she's already offered."

Eddie's sure it's not his imagination when Buck looks relieved, his grin wide. "Okay. Yeah, that sounds--wait, is there room?"

"Are you kidding?" Eddie laughs. "You'll share with me and Lily'll stay with us. Where else are you gonna go?"

There's a look on Buck's face Eddie doesn't understand, but before he can figure it out, Buck shrugs, looking pleased. "Then yes. I'll speak to Albert and I'm sure he'll say yes to renting my place."

Eddie lets out a slow breath, watches while Buck moves around the kitchen, getting Lily's bottle ready and the butterflies in his stomach start up a goddamn party. GOD. what is this

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #fic by me #otp: i need you to hang on

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the-milk-monarch · 5 months

Text

☣︎ Maybe I'll add a part two sometime with Vito, Cody and Scott but for now damn that was exhausting

[𝚂𝙿𝙸𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴]

[𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘]

⚠ | setting: Total Drama Island AU

Most of the people who joined Total Drama have already been eliminated, and so were you. You didn't mind though, as you got to enjoy the positive side of losing - Playa Des Losers.

It was a lazy evening, most of the folks were busy doing their thing, but you were getting kinda bored.

You thought you were doomed with the boredom of yours, until you heard Chris McLean's voice through the speaker.

"Hey happy campers! Guess what. Do you want to win some money, even as a loser?" Were the words you caught.

Some contestants turned their heads towards the source of the sound.

"That's right!" He exclaimed. "You know how on TV there's always some fun hanging out time scenes between the contestants? Well you seem to lack at your job so I'm here to fix it!"

You slightly rolled your eyes at his words. You were a bit of a social anxiety filled loner, but he doesn't have to point that out.

"If you wanna earn a few additional bucks when going home, a measly $100, you're gonna have to play spin the bottle!"

You noticed some gasps, laughs and confused looks from the other people.

You thought the idea is a bit childish, but free 100 bucks is 100 bucks, so you didn't plan to turn down that idea. You were already a loser, so why not get the extra money?

All of the willingly participating contestants joined a shared space near the pool in a small gathering.

You sat down somewhere as well, awaiting further instructions.

Chris instructed for someone to take the bottle and spin it.

"Heather!" He shouted, making the girl turn her head towards the speaker. "You're gonna start! Spin the bottle and give a dare to a fellow loser."

She exhaled through her teeth, making a little "psh." noise.

"Alright."

Her hand twisted the bottle and sent it into a whirl.

"Hey, Chris!" Heather shouted before asking a question. "You want some bonding time, huh?"

Finally the bottle chose it's victim - to your surprise - it wasn't you.

"Yeah?" Chris's voice echoed around, a bit curious.

You were unsure what Heather had prepared, but you knew it wouldn't be anything easy.

"Well then, since Y/N arrived not too long ago, and I observed them hanging around a particular someone recently, why not pull them closer together?" She had a smug smirk on her face, which made you quite worried now.

"Kiss Y/N." Her finger pointed at you.

[𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎]

"Wh- Wha-" Mike lost balance and nearly fell from the chair he was sitting on as he processed the dare.

You also reacted with a subtle and baffled gasp bordering on"wha-".

"But- What? Why? I can't do that, what if Y/N doesn't want to?" He quickly bombarded her with questions, a bit embarrassed he had to discuss this in front of you.

"Then they'll have to take away your chance at the money." She assumed, innocently shrugging her shoulders.

Upon hearing the dare, Chris once again joined into the convo through the speakers.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, both participants get the 100 bucks to share if they fulfill their dare. Fifty-fifty each." He elaborated.

"And no forcing fellow contestants if they don't want to do the dare. That's not cool, dudes." He felt the need to add that last part, especially for TV.

Mike looked at you with anxious puppy eyes, uncomfortable with the idea that Heather came up with.

You froze a bit.

How could Heather figure out you had a sweet spot for Mike?

You thought you weren't that obvious, Mike never commented on it.

You blinked twice before returning the gaze at him.

"Eh- I don't know if- If you wanna do that, Y/N?" Mike started to sweat a little.

You felt the rising anxiety inside you, was Mike gonna comment anything on Heather's comment?

"I mean, I'd never want to make you uncomfy-" He trailed off a bit before you cut him off.

"Um, no- I mean- I-" You noticed you started to babble so you finally just said the most appropriate response you could think of at the moment with a nervous grin. "Sure, let's get the money."

You could see a bit of Mike dying inside after he heard your approval.

Mike got up from his seat, slowly coming towards you with his hands close to his chest, fidgeting slightly.

You awaited your "doom", feeling as if the time became slower.

All of the losers' eyes were on you both, expecting something to happen.

He met your gaze once he was close enough to you.

You stared at him, trying to keep a straight face and not disclose what was going through your head at the moment.

"Alright then- I'll, uh, start-" He said meekly, nearing closer to your face.

You started looking at his red cheeks until a kiss took you by a surprise.

You were fully expecting a kiss on the lips, but instead you felt it on your cheek.

Guess you shouldn't be greedy.

Mike immediately backed out after he was done, but not too fast so you'd think he finds you particularly repulsive.

You felt the corners of your lips turn into a bashful smile that you couldn't control.

You felt kind of stupid when your first kiss with him was because of Heather, though. You hoped it didn't scare Mike too much.

Mike had one as well, albeit much more worried than yours.

You noticed him hurry back to his place, with his face still subtly red.

[AFTERMATH]

After the whole thing was over and everyone went their separate ways, you tried to find Mike.

You didn't want to leave on an awkward note and you wanted to explain some things. You decided it was time to.

You spotted Mike helping himself near the snackbar, away from other people.

You didn't know whether he wanted to be left alone or not, but you approached anyway.

Mike immediately turned his head as he heard you clearing your throat.

"O-Oh, Y/N, hey!" He greeted you with a slightly nervous, yet still kind grin.

"Oh no, they're here-"

"Hey Mike." You politely reciprocated, trying not to panic inside.

"Okay, calm down. They only came to talk. Maybe- Maybe it's not about that kiss?"

"Um... What's up?" He also tried his best so the situation wouldn't be awkward.

"So... The bottle thing." You gently started, stopping for a moment to regain your thoughts on the topic which were being drowned in your worries.

"They are gonna talk about that kiss. No, no, no, no-"

His face changed for a second into a look of doubt and anxiety which was quickly covered with a smile.

"...Yeah? What about it?" He quietly gulped.

"Well- I- Hope this doesn't- You know." You felt as if your mouth forbid you from forming proper sentences.

"Y-Yeah, me too- It was-" He felt himself being tongue-tied as well.

"It was what, Mike? Nice? You can't say that!"

You and Mike shut up as soon as you realized you're both just as hopeless.

After a moment of silence, you finally heard a pathetic and tense chuckle coming his way.

You were about to panic even more, thinking he's laughing at you, but the thought that he was as nervous as you prevented you from doing that.

"Honesty is the best way to go, right? Just be normal for once."

"Sorry. Guess it got to me more than I thought." He finally admitted without beating around the bush. "I- I don't want you to think I'm a weirdo because of that, though."

"What? No-" You quickly denied that, making him visibly less worried.

"I-" Words yet again got stuck in your throat, which started to piss you off a little. Mike could do nothing but listen intently to what you were about to say.

"I-If you promise to also not think I'm a weird for what I'm about to say, then-" You tried to put on a confident facade as you started fidgeting with your hands a little.

"Of course not!" Mike quickly chimed in, now even more desperate to hear your response. "I promise."

You knew if you screw this up, it'd be game over. The words finally flew out of you.

"I- kinda hoped you'd aim for the lips."

You saw Mike freeze the moment he processed what was being said to him.

"Aim for the lips."

You broke him. The four words were floating in his head, covering every free space in it.

You remained tense and quiet, dreading each second he didn't reply.

Finally he got to his senses and slightly shaked his head.

"I- I'm sorry, it just took me by a surprise-" He couldn't cover the red that was on his face after that info. "Usually people try to get away from me, you know?"

It was your turn to let out the meek chuckle that was forming in the back of your throat.

"Yeah- Well- Not me." You admitted.

"U-unless you want me to-?" Anxiety got a hold of you once again.

"N-no!" He tensed up once more, slightly reaching out his hand towards you as if you were about to run away.

Until he realized his reaction was a bit too much.

"I mean-" He instead quickly scratched the back of his head with the hand that he extended prematurely. "Y-You can stay."

"I- I hope they're being honest."

He waited a second before speaking once more, leaving you with anticipation.

"...You can even- come closer, if you'd like."

You noticed the familiar, sweet toothy grin that was coated with an unhealthy dose of worry and hesitation.

You took a step forward, making Mike subtly cower.

"...Yea?" Shy but reassuring smile appeared on your face.

You didn't fully realize how tall he was before you stepped closer. Usually it wasn't a problem to look him in the eyes, but because of the close proximity you had to move your head up to face him.

If his focus wasn't entirely on you now, Mike's second worry would be his profuse sweating.

"Well- Um- Y-You won't get money for it, but if you're still interested, I could..." If it wasn't for your very close distance, you'd almost miss Mike's murmur.

Fortunately, you managed to catch it all.

With this reassurance, you reached out your hands so they could hold Mike's face.

You felt his cheeks getting even hotter with your touch.

Smooch.

You heard a surprised half whimper and gasp come out of him as soon as your lips touched.

He looked at you like a deer in the headlights as you pulled away from the kiss, knowing he already lost the battle with his face showing all the emotions coursing thru him.

"You know, that 'pay-off' is enough for me."

[𝙼𝚊𝚕]

Mal was sitting in the corner, the only indication that he participated in the game was his place near the pool.

Not too long ago he was sulking about his recent "unfair" elimination from the show he planned to win and so he was extra grumpy from the moment he arrived.

He almost stopped paying attention to whatever unimportant was happening until he noticed the bottle pick him.

"Kiss Y/N." He heard Heather's dare.

"What am I, fucking 14?" He bluntly spat out his annoyance at the childish topic.

"This is a family friendly show, Mal. Language!" Chris had to beep out Mal's profanity for sure.

You just sat there, frozen with the implications of the dare and what Mal might possibly think about what Heather said now.

Mal obnoxiously rolled his eyes, as to show his irritation further.

Suddenly you felt his piercing gaze sizing you up.

It made you tense.

"Y/N sure seems to act out their crush like a teenager. Make a move already, sweetie." Heather mocked you with the audacity of sounding like she doesn't even care about it.

She couldn't actually have a clue about you actually being interested in Mal, though.

She disliked Mal as much as Alejandro, knowing he's a proper rival to her, and with your "fascination" with him, you were more inclined to hang around him.

You were just in a "wrong place at a wrong time" and she wanted to make a jab at him.

"Well, Y/N, are you 'above 14' and up for it?" Chris dared to joke as he waited for your response.

"Uh- Yeah- Okay." You nodded while saying, albeit a bit quietly from the shock that was still in your mind.

Mal sighed dramatically as he so gracefully got up his butt to slither your way.

His walk was careless but still arrogant, matching his opinion about the topic.

He looked at you from above as you were still sitting on your place.

His face got closer as he bent to whisper in your ear.

"You really up for it?" He asked with a mix of "i don't care" as well as some not so subtle mocking and teasing grin. "With me?"

You avoided looking at his eyes to not betray too much, although you were sure that if Mal weren't conveniently casting a shadow on your face with his, he'd be able to see your blush.

"Yes." You managed to spit out, hoping that your attempts at being casual worked. "...For the cash righ-"

You tried to explain yourself further so he wouldn't take you for a pining weirdo, but you were promptly stopped by his lips touching yours.

You yelped quietly as he pulled you into a deeper kiss that you were not prepared for at all, grabbing your chin.

Mal wanted to make a show and so he did, much to everyone's surprise.

Heather's eyebrows even raised in shock, but they were nothing compared to yours.

After a not so steamy make-out, he finally backed off, leaving you with a need to process what happened.

"Oh, what a terrible fate. Truly embarrassing. Get a grip." He made a disgusted face at Heather, leading the point further with how stupid the idea was.

Mal was above the silly dare and so he didn't make a fuss about it.

He just wanted to shock people for his own amusement, per usual.

And maybe even subtly express his anger at people trying to make kissing him out of all people a "terrible fate".

He moved back to the place he was sitting on before, leaving you with a memory of the situation burned into your brain.

[AFTERMATH]

He was always good at reading people - skill he had to develop due to his upbringing.

So he didn't really worry about being in the wrong in the situation.

The smug brat knew you were into him, seeing your behavior around him.

After the game was over and everyone had fulfilled their dares, he approached you when you were least expecting it.

"Hey, lovebird." You heard the voice you knew too well, from someone you wanted to avoid for the moment.

Mal noticed your visible flinch as he went up to you from behind and chuckled under his breath.

"Not so happy to see me now?" He gazed at you while crossing his arms with cocky amusement. "I thought you enjoyed yourself not too long ago."

You had to wait a moment before the words could properly formulate in your mouth. You were baffled that he had the audacity to taunt you with it so casually.

Mal waited out your silence with an eye roll.

"Come on, I don't have all day." He impatiently hurried you, making you regain your voice.

"I-" You had trouble looking him in the eye after what happened.

"I am- not displeased by seeing you." You nailed it.

(No you didn't.)

"That's a step in the right direction." He concluded and dared to show you a mocking smirk, stepping closer. "But how about you admit that you're very happy to see me?"

His shameless cockiness and nonchalance thrown you off a little. You weren't sure if he was playing a cruel joke on you .

You decided to turn the question on him, somewhat smoothly.

"Well- It seems you are. Why else would you come to see me?" You replied with fake confidence, hoping it'd fool him.

Mal only chuckled at your attempt at being cool.

"Well, I can't deny I've been thinking about you." He once again managed to shut you up with a shit eating grin.

You remained silent for a longer second, obviously not knowing what to respond.

"You seem very speechless today, dear." He raised his brow amused, he was clearly thriving on making you uncomfortable.

"Don't get me wrong, it's adorable. But a conversation is a two way street, you know?" He was becoming bolder the more he saw you squirm.

"You don't really give me easy things to respond to, you know." A bit of truth escaped from you. He got you.

"Oh, I'm very well aware." He grinned and tilted his head confidently. The way he was staring at you made you feel very small. "What's wrong? Too afraid to say something?"

"Did you really come here only to make me feel stupid, or-" You tried to remain casual, but a bit of anxiety managed to fall into your response.

"Oh, the fun part of seeing you all shy and stumbling over your words is just a plus." He exhaled with amusement. "Besides, you don't need me to think you're stupid, you're doing a good enough job all on your own."

You furrowed your brows a little. So you were right. He was just making fun of you?

Mal rolled his eyes. You obviously weren't reacting how he wanted you to, but he wasn't about to give up.

"Why don't you just be honest for once? You seem awfully tense for such a simple conversation." He pushed your limits a bit, testing what made your nerves tick.

You sighed with both frustration and hopelessness.

Your mind was too preoccupied with thinking what a fool you were potentially making of yourself, you didn't even realize how many signs Mal was giving you. In his own way.

"... Okay." You started to gain some courage to finally speak up.

"There we go." The corner of his mouth curved into a sly smirk for a moment. He seemed pleased with his success, but made no move to make his intentions clearer.

In fact, his expression changed from smug to an impatiently raised brow, daring you to make the next move.

"Yes, I am into you." You finally decided to stop stalling and say the obvious. You tried your best to hide your embarrassment and fear of rejection on your face, which made Mal's eyes flash with curiosity and something else.

Mal looked pleasantly shocked for a moment, but quickly regained his composure and the smug expression came back.

"Finally, someone's not afraid of saying it." He paused for maximum dramatic effect, as if he'd been waiting for this moment. After the pause he leaned in close, bringing his face close to yours.

When the tension was highest between you two, he abruptly backed away and smirked at him again.

"You'll have to do better than admitting you're into me, though." He once again tested you.

"Huh- What else do you expect me to say?" You turned your head slightly, a bit dumbfounded by the demand.

"Oh, you don't have to say anything." He then took you by the waist, making you squirm a little by the sudden contact.

"You could always express yourself with actions…" He smiled devilishly, his brown eyes never leaving yours. He kept his hands resting on you, enjoying how awkward and nervous he made you.

Your face was undeniably at least a bit red by how quick it all went down.

Nonetheless, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you screwed this up when the fate gave you a chance to kiss your object of affection twice.

[𝙽𝚘𝚊𝚑]

"...What?" He stared at Heather with his skeptically raised eyebrow, which was conveying more so confusion and bafflement at this point.

You couldn't help but look at Heather the same, except with even more surprise.

"No hard feelings Noah, I don't care." She "lightheartedly" said. "But Y/N here..."

You knew Heather would start picking at you sooner or later.

You didn't really have a good relationship with her, and few days ago she seriously started to piss you off.

You had a little altercation before all of this but you didn't really think it was something to dwell on.

Apparently Heather thought the opposite.

Noah's face stayed the same until his expression softened into something else, but was promptly changed back.

"Wow. Really mature." He discarded her attempt at clowning on both of you.

"Well, dare's a dare, ain't it?" She repeated the rules of the game, shrugging carelessly.

He took a long and hesitant sigh as he lazily made way towards you.

You followed his moves with your eyes, finally meeting his as your gaze landed on his face.

"...Eh-" He stopped for a moment, cringing internally. "So- You okay with proceeding?"

"Yeah-" You nodded, sensing the awkward atmosphere.

Noah didn't make much effort to blow the kiss out of proportion.

He just smooched your lips in a quick manner and then, without a word, moved to his seat.

You tried to copy his demeanor towards the situation, not making a big deal out of what happened.

Your eyes wandered around the place after, but you managed to catch a glimpse of Owen playfully nudging Noah and letting out a silly giggle.

[AFTERMATH]

You couldn't bear the thought of the tense note you left off with Noah.

You felt immense second-hand cringe for Noah, who visibly didn't want to end up in the situation.

Even though it was a dare both of you accepted, you didn't want him to associate you with a gross memory.

So you gathered all of your confidence to go talk to him.

You noticed him reading a book somewhere in a secluded place.

You thought it's normal, since most people prefer peace and quiet while reading, but you also knew Noah was able to read just fine around other people to, if he wanted to.

You weren't about to question him about that, though.

He was deeply focused on his book, so when he heard you clearing his throat, you noticed some alarms going off in his brain as he saw you.

"Hey-" You awkwardly started.

He subtly stopped himself for a moment, grabbing his book and putting it down so that he'd show his attention is on you.

"Hey." He reciprocated your greeting, responding flatly but not maliciously.

You were a bit lost with how to start, so you just talked on the spot.

"So like, I know we don't really talk, but I just wanted to make sure that it's not, uh, weird between us because of Heather's immaturity." You explained as best as you could.

It was true, you and him weren't really close, but you also never shown any maliciousness between each other, and you wanted it to stay that way.

He digested your words for a moment as he searched for a proper response.

"I'm not affected by Heather's stupidity. It's not contagious." He summed it up in calm but witty manner. "Why would I be weirded out by an immature dare?"

"Right- That's cool then-" You tensed up slightly, but his response was also a bit relieving.

"... Unless it's you who has a problem?" He asked, raising his brow.

His expression stayed analytical and with a healthy dose of skepticism, but there was also a part of soft insecurity thrown in.

"No, no!" You quickly chased away his allegation.

Both of you once again found yourself in an uncomfortable silence.

You haven't made a peep, but you swear you could hear some quiet and unsurely irritated sigh from Noah as you planned to end this interaction.

Suddenly he opened up his mouth. "Well then, as we established-"

He tried to keep his words as casual as they come, with fear of coming more awkward than he intended te situation to be. "I think we should just, move on, and stop acting like it's a big deal."

"Yeah. You're right." You agreed with a nod, yet still felt a bit blursed about the fact that now you had your crush's attention on you.

"I mean, it's not like it was a first kiss on a school trip." You tried to joke to make the moment lighter.

"...Yeah." Noah's response came off a bit flat, with his movements becoming stiffer, but his expression remained a mystery.

"... It wasn't your first kiss, was it?" You blurted out without thinking over what you're gonna say.

You noticed the surprised and a bit called out face of his.

"Yeah- no way. You're like my fifth one this week." He quickly saved his face as he responded in a sarcastic manner.

You chuckled, although you weren't sure if he's joking or not.

"Wow, okay, sorry, that came off a bit weird of me, huh-" You backed away with your question apologetically.

"Yeah." He responded with the typical dry tone, but you could hear some light amusement from the reply. "Well, if you won't go bragging about it to others, then..."

You felt your face get a bit hotter, were you really his first kiss?

Now you felt a bit bad.

Did he have any regrets??

You had to know.

"Oh- Sorry for- taking that, I guess-" You tried to not dig at the "issue" further but also show that you're sorry, in case he expected that.

He softly smirked in slight amusement at your unsureness.

"It's just a kiss." He reminded you both.

You only chuckled nervously in return.

The moment was broken by a familiar blond-haired boy coming your way in a hurry.

"Noah, I saw Y/N heading your way!" You both heard Owen's voice nearing closer. "Maybe you can finally talk about that kiss-"

You saw Owen's face faltering into surprise and then embarrassment when he saw Noah's face trying to say "quit it" without making a sound around you.

"-Hershey's kiss, that you ate this monday, because, there were some, in the kitchen." He "smoothly" saved the situation and began to slowly retreat.

"Man, I'm hungry- I wonder if there are any left- I'll go check." And so he ran off.

Once again, the tense atmosphere creeped into to your surroundings again.

Noah couldn't help himself but let out a disappointed, given up sigh as he facepalmed.

"...What was that about?" You looked at him questioningly, but not trying to overwhelm him.

"That was my last chance at keeping this conversation not awkward." He cynically replied.

You stopped for a moment, unsure how to proceed.

"Okay, I'll just stop being immature and say it. I like you." Noah mumbled out your way, although he tried to make sure you hear it, his hesitance was obvious.

You were stunned to hear such words leave specifically his mouth, but you were in no mood to complain.

"I like you too." You didn't think much, you just said what's been on your mind in the current state.

You were about to take back your words, afraid of how easily you let on your feelings, but hey, he said it first, right?

"Oh. Wow." Was his only response after a moment.

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zilabee · 3 days

Text

Tony Bramwell, on the Death of Happiness:

- Perhaps it was the world’s press taking them too seriously and asking silly questions about the deeper meaning of their songs and about where the words came from that changed them from being simple songwriters. Songwriting became a “creative art” and was reinvented as being difficult.

- For John and Paul, songs were suddenly something that were “crafted” and then taken off to Abbey Road like a half-finished jigsaw puzzle for George Martin to work his alchemy on. It all became serious and expensive.

- Things changed. The passion went. […] I came to see on a regular basis how the four of them would be slumped in a corner at Abbey Road, with cups of coffee and bits of paper and cigarettes and joints, not doing a thing. George Martin and the new engineer, Geoff Emerick (who had replaced Norman Smith), would be sitting in the control room, or the canteen, bored out of their minds.

- I will always remember the twelve empty boxes [Magic Alex] made for George. They contained nothing and didn’t actually do anything, but George told John that they contained some kind of light ray that could recognize bad vibes. “Really? I’ll have some of those,” said John. “Yeah, me too. In fact, I’ll have two dozen. Put ’em on my bill,” said Ringo who was the most cynical of all the Beatles. Alex produced dozens and in all seriousness, they were lined up in key points around the Beatles’ homes, where, as far as I could tell, they continued to do nothing at all.

- The Beatles were under a lot of pressure at that time to prove themselves in the aftermath of Brian’s death. Consequently, the people who worked for them, or for Apple, were under a lot of pressure not to take the piss out of even the smallest of the Beatles’ bright ideas, including their involvement with the Maharishi, Alexis Mardas, or the Fool. They’re looking at you saying: “Go on. Say it. Say what you’re thinking! I can take it.” And you’re going, “No fucking way. One: you can’t take it. Secondly: I like it here!” To disagree would prove you were not tuned in and turned on.

- Denis left for the ashram, where he discovered that the Beatles were too high up in the clouds, literally, to care about films. George so desperately wanted to believe in this new religion that he called Denis into his hut and made him watch while he sat down cross-legged and levitated. When I asked Denis if he actually saw any space between George’s bottom and the concrete floor, he said evasively, “I’m not sure. George was wearing a robe, and it was very dark in his hut.” Denis was always very diplomatic.

- It seemed to me—and from what they said—that they were very earnest about meditation and Indian music, but found the Maharishi a faintly repulsive figure. They argued about it, but in the end they decided to give him the benefit of the doubt just in case he was some kind of magician

- [on hearing Jumping Jack Flash for the first time on the radio, Paul sends Tony to immediately request the station play it again.] There was a very funny look on Paul’s face as I went off to find the phone. As if, not only was the whole world on his shoulders, but now the Stones were about to hit their stride.

- As the sixties gave way to the seventies, the fun left. It was like a carousel on a merry-go-round slowly grinding to a halt, with the music dying and the lights going dim.

- Klein couldn’t have known that John was sensitive about being slightly dyslexic, but he had guessed correctly that John resented being seen as the junior partner.

- Not only was it hard work drumming up sufficient Krishnas to placate George when he wanted them around, but we were all bored to death at having to go along with the bunch of dropouts who marched up and down, chanting, clanging bells and begging for money.

- Previously, the Beatles had tried to get along; now there were factions. It was like walking on a knife-edge of conspiracies and backbiting. I watched the madness and the slow disintegration of Apple as barriers went up and years of lawsuits and wrangling began. […] People who worked for the Beatles and Apple were supposed to be totally faithful, but it was impossible to be loyal to everybody.

#the beatles #tony bramwell #beatles books #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison

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coramatus · 1 year

Text

The Tumblr Sexyman Poll 2023 aftermath for the Submas boys.

Ingo could care less about the poll. Emmet has objections. Both see a good reason Ingo didn’t make it to third place again like last time.

Silly ideas that popped up:

The most absurd form Cecil could take for a sexyman poll is the Night Vale eye logo. So of course I went for it.

Reigen was fine in the end, if a bit traumatized. Cecil immediately lost interest in him when the results came in.

You know Cecil’s immediately handing that first prize to Carlos because he knows who the truest sexyman is. Which is why he even cares and is bothering to eye laser people.

No, I know Cecil never died. That was just the funniest thing Emmet could say in that moment.

Emmet went on a date with Cecil once. It went sideways when Cecil started saying weird things about spiders and they never tried again. Was Cecil eye-shaped or human-shaped? Emmet thinks it funnier to keep people guessing.

After beating Bruno twice, Ingo felt bad and gave Bruno a lifetime pass for the subway. As long as all his rats are in an appropriate carrying cage. They’re now friends and talk regularly.

Transcription:

Emmet: We have the same face, Ingo! At least work up some indignation for my sake!

Ingo: It’s just a silly poll, Emmet. It’s not a big deal.

(‘Waiting for the Bus in the Rain’ plays in the background)

Emmet: It is a big-! Uh… Do you hear ‘Waiting for the Bus in the Rain’?

Ingo: Huh… Yeah, I do. What is that about-?

KA-BOOM!!!

Emmet: !!!

Ingo: !!!

Cecil of Welcome to Night Vale in the form of the podcast’s eye logo: *somehow shooting an eye laser* WELCOME BACK DEAR LISTENERS TO NIGHT VALE

Reigen of Mob Psycho 100 (previous 2nd place winner): *running away from Cecil’s eye laser* AAAAAAAAAAA

Emmet: CECIL?!

Emmet: I thought he died!

Ingo: *speaking into Xtransciever* Hello, Bruno! It seems we dodged a bullet train with that poll thing!

#tumblr sexyman poll #tumblr sexyrematch #pokemon #pokemon black and white #pokemon black 2 and white 2 #pokemon legends arceus #subway boss emmet #submas #subway boss ingo #warden ingo #welcome to night vale #cecil gershwin palmer #mob psycho 100 #reigen arataka #encanto #bruno madrigal #mentioned #coramatus’s artwork

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ivryne · 1 year

Text

. . . ⌗ the aftermath ! 🔬

genshin smau | scaramouche x fem!reader

THIS SMAU IS DISCONTINUED!! BUT THE REWRITE IS OUT IN MY MAIN MASTERLIST!!!!

synopsis — the aftermath ! After a drunken night that resulted in some late night endeavors, you woke up in an unfamiliar environment. Looking around you in search for any familiarity, you spot a familiar tuff of violet hair beside you, hidden beneath the heavy duvet. Realization blew you over as you finally connected the scattered dots. Did you really just sleep with Scaramouche, your no.1 nemesis and rival? Well I guess all we can do is wish you luck to deal with the aftermath.

pairings. scaramouche (kunikuzushi) x fem!reader

genre. romance, crack, slice of life, rivals to lovers, modern au, college/uni setting, age 20-21

warnings. misunderstandings, slow burn, mommy issues, fluff, 16+ nothing too steamy. timestamps don’t matter just ignore them

status. [ 22 / 12 / 22 ] — disc (ONGOING REWRITE)

NOTE. hellooo! I’ve seen genshin smaus all over tumblr and I’ve always wanted to make one and I finally got the plot todayyy aghhh. Ty for those of u who hav clicked this!! Hope you enjoy <33

(🍬) means there r gonna be written parts ^^

NOW PLAYING . . .

starring . . . mentally un(st)able | need help asap

AND ACTION !

act one — too late to back out

episode 01 : wat did u ruin again lol

episode 02: stupid girl

episode 03: why is this kinda hot??

episode 04: i’ll bring the snacks (🍬)

episode 05: brainstorm or braindead (🍬)

episode 06: kinda ship it ngl (🍬)

episode 07: meant to be ig

episode 08: t-truce

bonus episode: hu tao’s dilemma

act two — never settle for less

episode 09: you’re staring (🍬)

episode 010: boytoy

episode 011: the hot one?

episode xx : extra scaraname snippets

episode 012: oh how the turns have tabled (🍬)

episode 013: name’s adrien agreste era (🍬)

episode 014: a new face (🍬)

episode 015: it’s called overthinking

IMPORTANT NOTE !!

episode 016: one goal in mind

episode 017: what are u implying?

episode 018: ur not the one i like

episode 019: that was quite unlikely

episode 020: called it

episode 021: are you convincing us or urself?

episode 022: why r u like this

episode 023: i guess this is it

episode 024: i am living for this childe slander

episode 025: the things i’d do for u

act three — above average

episode … :

tba…

CUT ! show’s over 📽

NOTE. this smau is discontinued ! I will be posting a rewrite soon so stay tuned!

do not repost, share, or copy ! Reblogs and likes very much appreciated!! Ty for taking ur time to read this. I hope i rlly get through w this bc i’m so inconsistent hehe.

#genshin impact #genshin smau #scara x reader #kunikuzushi #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin imagines

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daechwitatamic · 1 year

Text

2. Retrograde || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 2: Retrograde

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, underage drinking, a broken bone, angst, kissing, implied protected s*x/ kind of the immediate aftermath to it, TIME JUMPS WC: 9.5k

Part 2: Retrograde

Retrograde: (noun) when celestial objects appear to travel backwards

You broke your wrist when you were ten.

You were riding your bike around the dead end. Minji and Jungkook were away at a cousin’s house. Seokjin was down the street, on his skateboard, trying the same kickflip over and over again. Sometimes he made it. Sometimes he didn’t. You weren’t riding together.

You don’t remember hitting the curb. You don’t remember what had distracted you. You don’t even remember flipping forward over the handlebars. Just the sickening burn that began at your wrist and pulsed in sluices up towards your elbow.

Seokjin had run to your house to get your dad, the forgotten skateboard drifting by itself towards the run-off drain, where the wheels snagged and it stilled.

Your dad had picked you up and carried you, sobbing, into the backseat of his sedan, buckling you in. Then he’d turned and looked at Seokjin, who was standing, stone-faced, behind him.

“Your dad’s not home,” he’d said, not a question. “I don’t want to leave you home alone - you can ride to the hospital with us. I’ll call your house when we get there and leave a message to explain.”

No one had cell phones yet, back then.

Every bump of the car jostled you and made you cry harder, holding your injury close to your chest. You weren’t even embarrassed to cry in front of Jin - it hurt so bad it eclipsed any other emotion.

And then Jin had reached out and held your uninjured hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Hey,” he’d said, and then put on a heavy accent. “What be a pirate’s fav’rite letter?”

You’d thought about it. “Arrrr,” you guessed, proud to have figured it out.

Seokjin had grinned at you across the backseat. “You’d think it’d be ‘R’,” he cried, amped to get to deliver the punchline as intended, “but his true love be the ‘C’.”

“Good god,” your dad groaned from the front seat. But despite the unrelenting burning in your arm, you’d smiled.

–

The summer you were twelve, you’d played hide and seek outside at night. The idea came on out of nowhere. Jungkook - eleven, that year - had a few friends sleep over one night, loud boys named Taehyung and Jimin, and someone had suggested it. You remember thinking your parents wouldn’t allow it, but Mr. Kim had said it was okay as long as you stayed out of yards if you didn’t know the family that lived there, didn’t leave the dead end, and came back inside by ten o’clock.

The neighborhood felt different at night; it felt different to be set loose like this - free to run and shout and hide as the day’s sticky humidity faded into something comfortable.

You’d split up, everybody running in separate directions, dark figures darting under streetlights and plunging into the shadows. You stuck close to the houses, trying to stay out of open spaces. You left your own yard, creeping two houses down, curling up in a ball next to someone’s shed.

I am a rock, you thought, hugging your knees as tightly as possible, making yourself as tiny as you could. I am just a rock. The dirt beneath you, gritty, dug into your knees and shins. In the distance, you could hear both trucks on the highway and the chorus of frogs in the streams behind the neighborhood. Sweat trickled between your shoulder blades.

I’m just a rock.

You heard someone’s footsteps approach you, in the dark, and then pause. You held as still as possible, trying to barely even breathe. Don’t see me, you thought. I am just a rock.

The moment stretched, tense, and whoever thought you might be a rock decided to move on, their footsteps carrying on down the sloping yard. You released a breath, unfolding a little, looking around. Seeing no one, you stood, brushing dirt and pebbles from your legs.

Seokjin appeared out of nowhere from the other side of the shed, and you’d stepped backwards instinctively, pressing your back against the grainy wood of the shed, holding your breath for the second time in minutes.

He spotted you, clearly - he froze, feet away from you, looking at you through the darkness. You didn’t move a muscle, hardly dared to breathe. It was so dark that you couldn’t make out the features on his face. He was all shadow. But somehow you knew - knew - that his eyes were on yours.

“You don’t see me,” you’d whispered to him. “I am just a rock.”

You’d heard him laugh, low, the surprised sound leaving his lips without permission.

He should have tagged you out. But after a moment, he’d carried on, leaving you to hide again in peace. “Goodbye, rock,” he’d said, barely louder than a whisper.

—

You were fifteen the first time you got drunk - really drunk - in Minji’s basement. You shouldn’t have - none of you should have been drinking in the first place, being underage. But Mr. Kim had gotten called into work and… it just sort of happened.

Seokjin had a friend over and they’d holed up in the basement with a handle of vodka the friend had hidden in his duffle bag. You and Minji and Jungkook had been on them like buzzards, trying to get in on the fun.

“Absolutely not,” Seokjin had told Jungkook, more serious than you’d ever seen him. “You’re only fourteen. You can hang out with us if you can keep your mouth shut, but you don’t get any.”

“Hyung -”

“No,” Seokjin had stayed firm, and Jungkook had caved.

“You two,” Seokjin had said, turning his gaze to Minji, who looked back at him innocently, like she was ready to follow every rule and would never put a toe out of line, “can have a little.”

Three hours later, you made it up the stairs to the kitchen barely alive, using your hands to help you balance on the steps. You’d gone up for water, but as you stood over the kitchen sink you were distracted by your reflection in the window. And then, the backyard beyond your reflection.

Somehow, you made it outside, tripping down the wooden steps to the grassy yard, spinning and landing heavily on your back. The night sky swirled above you, the stars laughing at what an idiot you were. The grass beneath you tickled, but you gripped it in your hands, desperate to make the spinning stop.

Somehow, Jin appeared next to you in the grass, a few feet to your left. “How’s the yard?” he asked.

“Spinning,” you told him thickly.

He reached out a hand and patted your arm twice. “It’ll stop.”

You stayed there in silence, watching the stars, clutching the earth beneath you, hoping you wouldn’t get flung off the ride.

“Sometimes,” you heard yourself say, your voice seeming to come from the constellations themselves, the moons too far away to see, “I feel like everyone looks right through me.”

You felt Seokjin’s eyes on you, but he didn’t say anything.

You nodded, licked your dry lips. “Yeah,” you said, like he’d asked you something, like you’re agreeing with something he’d added on. “Like maybe I’ll be see-through forever.”

–

You almost got a boyfriend when you were sixteen. There was a guy from school - you’d talk on the phone late at night, sit together at lunch, share answers to homework assignments before the first bell rang.

On a particularly rainy Saturday, he’d taken you on a date to the nearest shopping mall. It had been okay - you’d had pretzels, wandered through a few department stores.

It had been okay - until you ran into a bigger group of kids from school. You’d joined them for a while; they were his friends, and he jumped in their conversations easily, someone who belonged. You, the see-through one, smiled and listened. Always on the outskirts.

And then he’d said, “Hey, we’re going to go back to J’s dad’s house. You’ll be okay?”

It had taken you longer than you were proud of to realize he was leaving with them, leaving you alone. It had taken longer than you were proud of to feel pissed, to realize you should have done anything except smile and nod.

He’d been your ride there.

Your parents had been working. You’d called Jin - your emergency adult.

“Y/N?” he’d sounded confused. You’d never called him before.

“Are you busy?” you’d asked him, the shame crawling over you, burrowing under your skin and making you want to rip it off. “I need a ride. I’m stuck.”

“What?” His voice was sharp. You could hear background noise stop, like he’d hit mute on what he was watching or paused the game he was playing. “Where are you? What happened?”

You lowered your voice, giving him the shortest version of the story possible. You were met with silence, stretching so long that you pulled the phone away from your ear to check your service, to see if you’d dropped the call. “Jin?”

“I’ll be there,” he’d said, something tight in his voice. “Wait for me by the food court.”

“Okay,” you’d whispered, and hung up.

Outside, it rained in sheets. You stood and watched the waves of rain move left to right across the parking lot. People jogged in from their cars, hoods on or umbrellas aloft. When Jin’s car pulled up to the curb, you ran through the rain, trying to shield your hair with your hands. It didn’t work at all. By the time you slid into the passenger seat, you looked half-drowned.

“Thanks for coming,” you’d said, eyes on your shoes as Seokjin put the car back in drive and pulled slowly back into traffic.

“It’s fine,” he’d said, still terse. It was unlike him. He was so rarely serious, so rarely not making bad puns, so rarely not laughing like a windshield wiper. It made these moments feel… heavy, somehow.

He drove in silence for a little. You stewed in the passenger seat, sifting through embarrassment and anger and also - somehow - happiness to be here now, with Jin, even if it was at the cost of every cent of your dignity.

Then, he seemed to notice the shopping bag on the floor of the car, tucked between your sneakers.

“What’d you get?” he asked, voice light again.

“Shirt,” you told him, reaching down to pull the top from the bag and hold it up. “Cute, right?”

“Snazzy,” he agreed. “I think I should get one. You think they have my size?”

You laughed despite yourself. “You’re so lame,” you told him. “Besides, this totally isn’t your color.”

“Please!” he blustered. “I can look handsome in anything. I’d look amazing in that.”

You were really laughing by then. Minji used to get so annoyed that he made you laugh when he got like this - you were encouraging him, she said - but you genuinely found him so funny that you couldn’t help yourself. You always had.

“Sure, okay,” you told him, stuffing the shirt back into the bag. “You keep telling yourself that.”

As you neared your neighborhood, though, your mood sank again.

“Jin?” you asked, looking over at him. He raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes on the road.

“Could you maybe… not tell Minji? About today?”

He didn’t answer for a while, not until he came to a red light and could turn and look at you completely. “Why?” he asked.

You could feel it as your face reddened as you had to put words to your embarrassment again. “She… was right about this guy. I should have listened to her. I just… I’m not ready to hear I told you so.”

Seokjin stopped in front of your parents’ house so you wouldn’t have to run across the street in the rain.

“I never saw you,” he promised you solemnly. “But Y/N? You shouldn’t let people treat you like this. That guy’s an ass.”

You gave him a tiny smile before extracting yourself from your seatbelt. “Thanks,” you’d said, and then darted through the rain like it would melt you.

–

Jin left for college at the end of the following summer, weeks before you turned seventeen. You watched through a gap in your living room curtains, curled up on the couch in your pajamas, as Mr. Kim and Jungkook helped load Jin’s boxes and bags into Mr. Kim’s car.

It felt unfair, that he got to leave, that he got to turn right out of the dead end and have a life - and you were still trapped here.

When Minji came out of the house, giving her older brother a reluctant hug, you rose, feet taking you unbidden on a course in their direction.

Minji had grinned at you. “I’m glad you’re here, you can help me move my shit into his room.”

“Yah!” Seokjin had protested, pushing her shoulder lightly. “No one said you could have my room!”

Minji stuck her tongue out at him. “You won’t be here to stop me!” She started back into the house, then turned over her shoulder and called to you, “Come on, the bed will take forever to move!”

She disappeared into the house, leaving you and Seokjin alone next to Mr. Kim’s sedan, which was packed to the brim.

You didn’t look at each other; Seokjin leaned against the car with his arms crossed, eyes on the ground. You faced the car, and him, the house on the other side. You watched the reflection of his profile in the car’s window.

What could you even say to him? What words could you pull out of your soul that weren’t a total cliche, or completely inappropriate, or both?

Don’t have too much fun.

Don’t forget me.

Please, don’t go away and fall in love without me.

I really don’t want you to go.

In the end, you told him, “See you at Christmas?” and he’d nodded silently, and you’d said, “Okay, then. Good luck with everything.”

Then you’d slinked into his house to help his little sister commandeer his bedroom.

–

That’s only part of the story, though. If you’re flipping through moments you’d shared with Jin… there was one you skipped. You avoid it, give it a wide berth, like if you step too close you might knock it from its pedestal. Like you might get sticky fingerprints all over its protective glass just from looking, somehow.

Mr. Kim had thrown Jin a graduation party in June, two months before he left for college. It had been wholesome while the sun was up - the Kim men had taken turns at the grill, little cousins had run barefoot through the yard, a table had been laden with gifts and cards, blue balloons had been tied to the porch railings.

At night, though, it seemed like both children and adults disappeared, leaving only you in-betweens. Blind eyes had been turned to the cases of beer stashed beneath the sodas in the buckets of ice. Cars full of kids parked up and down the dead end street, unloading loudly and entering the even louder house.

You’d stayed close to Minji, hadn’t even had that much to drink. But the house had been packed with people, too loud, too hot, and you’d found yourself slipping out the kitchen door sometime around one in the morning.

The lights from the house cast squares onto the driveway. Past them, a figure sat on the ground at the end of the driveway, long legs stretched out in front of him.

You’d made your way over slowly, warily. Not sure if you were wanted, not sure if you were intruding.

He’d turned to see who it was when you approached. You think you probably imagined the way he’d softened when he saw it was only you.

“You good?” you’d asked.

“‘Course,” he said - which should have been a clue that he might not be. A one word answer? From Kim Seokjin?

You paused next to him, still a bit unsure. “You sure? You’re… sitting on the ground alone, outside your own party.”

Jin huffed out a laugh at this. “I just needed some air. Some space.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling instantly like you were ruining the space he’d been craving.

“You can stay,” he’d said quickly, reading your response correctly. “I mean… I don’t mind if you’re here.”

Relief flooded you. You’d leaned against the side of the car parked there - not Mr. Kim’s sedan, you didn’t know whose car it was - and eyed him thoughtfully.

“Are you scared?” you asked. Something about the question felt right, felt like you were zeroing in on the problem.

Seokjin laughed again, a little sarcastic. “Me? Never.”

You smiled at his back, seeing right through his bravado. “About what? What’s the biggest thing?”

He’d shaken his head, pushed himself to his feet, brushed gravel from his hands, then his ass. He’d turned slowly, walked back towards the house, paused just a foot from you.

It was always you and Seokjin, in the dark.

You were always more honest with each other in the dark. Inside, he’d be all dad jokes and video games, kitchen skills and skateboard tricks.

You needed some shadows to get any idea what he was thinking. It had always been that way.

“I dunno,” he’d said, hands in his pockets. “Classes. Dorms. Not having my dad around. Not being here to watch out for Jungkook.”

“That’s more than one thing,” you’d pointed out.

He’d nodded seriously, but his lips twisted in irony, like he was thinking a very clever joke and holding it in.

“Okay then,” he said. “Let’s go with: losing my place, here. Coming back and finding out that everyone just… moved on without me.”

He’d brushed past you then, reaching out to touch your elbow lightly on his way by.

It’s been over a decade since that night, and you still don’t know if he meant his family, or you.

You’re mad at yourself the second you’re back in your car. You’d gone there uninvited, you’d cooked for him. Obviously it meant something - neither of you were stupid enough to think it didn’t. So why had you run the second he’d tried to talk to you?

You berate yourself the whole way home. And you’re not the only one who’s pissed. Jin texts you before you’re even out of the neighborhood, though you don’t see it until you park at your complex, grabbing your phone from the cup holder where you’d tossed it.

[11:28 AM] Jin 😎: im confusing YOU? [11:28 AM] Jin 😎: im not the one who came to cook you breakfast and then bolted the second it got serious [11:28 AM] Jin 😎: THAT’S confusing

Defensiveness rises up in you like a wave. Where does he get off lecturing you after the shit he pulled two years ago? Hands shaking, you fire back, “no, you bolted BEFORE breakfast. the second you got your jeans zipped, if i remember correctly.”

You throw your phone onto the passenger seat like it’s burned your hands, closing your eyes and pressing your head back into the headrest, breathing out slowly through your mouth to calm your racing heart. Fuck, those had been fighting words, for sure. But you’re pretty convinced he deserves it.

When you get brave enough to pick it up again, he hasn’t answered. You’re not sure if you’re relieved, or more worried. With a sigh, you collect your things and head inside.

“Roomieeeeee!”

You’d barely unpacked since returning from Christmas break your freshman year of college, your suitcase open on your dorm bed, a small pile of dirty clothes on the floor next to you. You’d been about to move it all to the hamper, it just hadn’t happened yet. Your college roommate, Sheyla, had just burst through the door, crowing happily when she saw you.

You got along well with Sheyla - you’d probably stay friends after college. But no one could take Minji’s place. When you and Minji decided to go to the same college, you’d agreed to live separately, to preserve your friendship. You both knew you needed breaks from each other to maintain the love.

“Hey!” you called back, flapping a hoodie out of the ball you’d scrunched it in and smelling the pits. Into the dirty pile it went. “How was your Christmas?”

Sheyla tossed her bag on the ground and flopped backwards onto her bed, fingers reaching to turn on the fairy lights you’d strung up together.

“Honestly? Boring. No one lives home by me, it was old people central the whole time. How about you?” She looks at you, suddenly sharp-eyed. “Did you see that guy? Your neighbor?”

You glanced at the door in alarm, as if Minji could have possibly materialized there, just in time to overhear.

Sheyla clocked this and laughed. “She can’t hear us! I told you your secret was safe! So, did you?”

It had been your first holiday break going home, your freshman year of college. You’d seen Jin sparingly over the last two years - two winter breaks, two summer breaks, and the odd weekend here or there if he had things going on.

You hadn’t had a conversation in that whole time; you’d been to the house to see Minji, but you hadn’t crossed paths. You texted each other on your birthdays, maybe once or twice if something interesting happened.

It had been weird, feeling things shift, noticing him slowly become someone who used to be in your life.

“Yeah, his family came to my parents’ Christmas Eve party,” you admitted. “But we really didn’t talk. He didn’t even come sit in the same room as me and Minji.”

It was true; you’d stayed in the kitchen for most of the party, wanting to avoid all your parents’ work friends, who were going to ask you about how college was going, and did you like your classes, and had you made new friends, and did you have a boyfriend yet and - you were just too tired for it.

You and Minji had sat on the kitchen counter, crossed ankles dangling, sipping at beers and watching people pass by the doorways - one out to the living room, one out to the dining room.

Seokjin hadn’t come into the kitchen once - but you knew he was out there, because you could hear his wild laugh, his high-pitched complaining as he scolded Jungkook for something he’d probably started in the first place, his voice bouncing over the low tones of the others.

Jungkook had slunk into the kitchen near the end of the party. “Jinnie wants a beer,” he’d told Minji, reaching out a hand, somehow knowing you two had a six-pack behind you.

“Why can’t he come get it?” she demanded as she reached back, fingers closing around a glass neck.

Jungkook shrugged. “He told me to get him one.”

Minji narrowed her eyes at him, the way she does when she’s assessing, deciding something. Then she handed him a second bottle. “That didn’t come from me,” she told him, and he gave her a salute before grabbing the beers and scooting back out.

“Are you and Jin fighting?” you asked, leaning back against the wooden cabinets behind you.

“Not unless he’s fighting without telling me,” she laughed. “If that’s the case, I’ll hear about it later, I’m sure.”

It had bugged you, that he seemed to be avoiding you. Then you’d glanced out into the living room, and there he was, the beer in hand.

He was standing facing Jungkook, but his eyes weren’t on his younger brother. They were on you - and Minji - but they seemed… far away. Wistful, somehow. Then, he’d noticed you looking and he’d pulled his gaze back to Jungkook fast. But the redness took over his ears and crept down his neck almost instantly.

You still weren’t sure what that was about. The most hopeful, foolish, idiotic part of you hoped it had a guess.

“Well,” Sheyla had said with a sigh. “There’s always next time.”

You’d slept over at Minji’s that night, the two of you cramming into her double bed now that you were too old for sleeping bags on the floor. In the morning, you’d rummaged in the kitchen for something to drink - something with bubbles, preferably, but water might have to do - when Seokjin had shuffled in behind you.

You’d turned, surprised, a cold can of seltzer in your hand. “Oh,” you’d said, suddenly very aware that you were still in pajamas, hadn’t bothered with a bra. You crossed your arms, hoping for nonchalance, and tried not to eye the grey sweatpants Jin sported. “I didn’t think anyone else was up. Morning.”

He’d stretched, the movement exposing a strip of belly between the sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. “Morning,” he’d answered, voice gravely from sleep.

You’d watched as he started the kettle. He kept his back to you, turning over his shoulder to see if you were still there after a minute. You wanted to ask him - well, lots of things. How was college, how was he, why was he avoiding you, why was he being so fucking weird?

His back, wide and solid, said don’t. So you’d taken your seltzer and retreated back to Minji’s bedroom, wondering if you imagined the feeling of his gaze burning on you as you fled.

–

You were twenty when Seokjin graduated from college. You were home, too, most of your school stuff yet unpacked the morning they took his graduation pictures in the front yard. Jungkook looked barely awake, rubbing his eyes sleepily as Minji fussed over trying to get his hair to lay flat. Seokjin stood in the center of the yard in his cap and gown, and you could hear him in your head complaining that they were taking too long and could they please just hurry up and take the picture. You smiled over your cup of coffee and then removed yourself from the window before you could get caught watching.

He’d had a graduation party that night. You really considered not going; it had been four years since Seokjin had left for college, two since you and Minji had, and in those four years you’d barely interacted - just the niceties when your paths had to cross, when your orbits swung you too close together again. It seemed pointless to show up when you wouldn’t even talk, when the days of stealing quiet moments away from everyone else were long gone. It seemed pointless to go, just to spend the night cataloging all the ways things had changed in four years, getting your feelings hurt for no reason at all.

Jin had said he was afraid of everyone moving on, but he’d nudged you on your way - so, really, you ought to just go.

Minji hadn’t understood. How could you explain it? “I don’t think he really wants me there,” you’d tried, sticking to the most basic truths. “Jin and I don’t really talk these days.”

“Since when did you and Jin talk in the first place?” she’d demanded, half right. “You’re there as my friend. Now come on, get changed!”

The sun was setting when you finally let yourself out the front door, calling goodbye to your parents, and making your way across the street. It was log-jammed with cars - a rare sight - and people milled through the front and side yards, red cups and plates of food in hand. It felt a bit like deja vu - you’d done this for all three Kim siblings for high school (though you and Minji had a joint celebration) and now you’d go through the cycle again as you four finished college in waves.

Despite Minji’s needling, you’d felt a little off-kilter, a little out of place. The feeling had sent you into the backyard to look for the drinks before you even found Minji.

As always at their summer parties, there was a keg tucked under the deck - you had to know they put it there, or else ask someone. You’d never find it on your own as a first-timer. You threw your shoulders back to cast off the squiggly feeling in your stomach and made your way down, grabbing a plastic cup and feeling around for the spigot.

You heard a familiar sound across the yard - Jungkook’s voice, whining that he was out of beer.

“Hyung will do it,” Seokjin said, and before you knew it he was sidling around a group of moms with their toddlers to reach the keg - and you.

He stopped when he saw you, then ducked his head and came closer, Jungkook’s empty cup in hand. His ears were tinged pink and you weren’t sure if it was from standing in the sun or… something else.

“Hey,” you’d said, taking your thumb off the spigot and watching the foam on your beer slowly fizz away. “Congrats on graduating.”

“Thanks, I guess,” he’d said, sending you a sideways grin as he pulled the spigot from your hand and started filling Jungkook’s cup.

“You guess?” you squinted at him. That grin was disarming, devious.

He shrugged. “I don’t feel like I really did anything that special. Showed up for class, turned in my homework.”

“You’re right,” you deadpanned. “I rescind my congratulations, effective immediately.”

His grin widened as he laughed, pleased that you were playing along. His gaze lingered on you before he checked on his beer again, making you warmer than you’d been walking through the almost-setting summer sun.

Things felt… charged, suddenly. Energized. You were used to Jin feeling comforting, like when you were kids. You were used to Jin feeling like an emotional black hole, everything inside you gravitating towards his center, as you did as a teenager. But this… this was new.

“Are you done at school?” he’d asked, shifting slightly closer. He released the spigot, letting the foam on his beer start to settle and you picked it up again, filling the top of your own where it had settled and left empty space.

“One more final, but it’s online,” you’d said.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Jin watch you. You wondered what would happen if you said it - told him how you felt, or told him you’d felt like he didn’t want to be near you the last few times you’d seen each other, or told him how badly you wanted your hands on him.

“What’s taking so long?” Jungkook shouted from across the yard, starting to make his way over. When he saw you at the keg, his steps slowed, understanding crossing his face.

“I had to share,” Jin explained, waving a hand at you. You handed him back the spigot, finished.

“Minji’s inside?” you asked them both, stepping out of the shadows and back into the sunlit yard.

“I think so,” Jungkook said, and you’d given them both a quick wave and headed in. You didn’t miss the way Jungkook nudged at Seokjin’s ribs, causing him to spill the top-third of his beer.

Long after sunset, after the food had been cleaned up, after the families with little kids had said goodbye and headed home, you found yourself wandering through the backyard again. Minji had gotten a phone call from the guy she was dating and went into her room to talk - you could have sat in there with her, she wouldn’t have minded, but it kind of gave you the ick to listen to her being so sickly sweet and moonstruck.

Instead, you combed the house for a familiar face. Jungkook had a whole group of friends over, and they were playing a drinking game in the basement. Your parents, who had joined the party in time for the food, had told Mr. Kim goodnight and headed across the street, telling you to text them if you decided to stay the night with Minji. Most of Jin’s college friends who had come from out of town had filtered out.

You finally found Jin, nearly at midnight. He was in his room in the dark, lit up by only his phone screen. His door was mostly closed, and you hesitated in the hall, deciding to leave him alone and go back to bugging Minji in her room.

You hadn’t even turned around to retrace your steps when he called your name. Heart thumping, you’d pushed his door open a little further, hovering in the doorway. He was laying on his bed, on top of the covers, his phone screen casting his face in blue.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, turning his head sideways to look at you.

“Minji’s on the phone with the boyfriend,” you explained. “I needed to escape.”

Jin laughed, a little sputtering.

“What are you doing?” you’d asked, taking one tentative step over the threshold. You’d been in Jin’s room very rarely in your years growing up here. It seemed like new turf.

He told you the name of the webtoon he was reading, flashing the screen at you so you could see.

You had nodded, silent, stuck in the middle of his room. You didn’t want to leave, didn’t know how to leave.

“Can I… read with you?” you asked, tentatively. You didn’t think, didn’t plan, didn’t map out how this would work or look; you just wanted to stay with him, just wanted to get closer.

Seokjin surprised you; he immediately shifted over on his bed, closer to the wall, making space for you.

You had to tell yourself to move, had to beg yourself to move before you stood still so long you made it weird. You’d never been in or on Jin’s bed, and you’d never laid that close before - certainly not since you and Minji were little kids, all laying on the floor together to watch a movie. Never in context like this.

You lay next to him gingerly, afraid to break the spell, afraid the moment would burst like a bubble on a child’s sticky, eager fingertip. You felt exactly that way: like you wanted it so much, but you knew if you touched it, it would be gone.

Your head rested next to his, close enough that you could hear his even breathing, but your bodies stayed a good foot apart.

Still, even with the space between you, you could feel his warmth. His bed smelled like him - something deep and smokey. It could have felt thrilling - it could have felt forbidden. Instead, inexplicably, it felt comforting, peaceful. Like home.

And eventually, as you stayed there, you settled in. Your breathing slowed, your pulse calmed, and you actually got caught up in the comic on the screen. Jin held his phone above you both, waiting patiently until you murmured, “Okay,” before scrolling each time.

You don’t remember falling asleep. What you remember is waking up slowly, immediately unsure where you were. The early morning light was unfamiliar, grey. You stretched, feet reaching for the end of the bed, and then went stock still as you felt someone shift beside you.

Oh god. Had you hooked up with someone? Uncommon, but not impossible.

You took a steadying deep breath, bracing yourself to face your potential mistakes, and cracked one eye open.

Seokjin breathed through his mouth, eyelids fluttering in sleep, just next to your face. You had a split second of absolute alarm, your brain making the equivalent of !!!!, before it came back to you.

You’d fallen asleep reading on his phone. Nothing had happened. But his arm was over your side, fingers resting lightly on your stomach.

You stayed as still as you could, trying to make your brain stop making sounds like a broken motor, hoping Jin wouldn’t wake before you were ready to function like a human. You considered, for a moment, leaning into the situation - rolling into the cuddle, closing your eyes and sinking back down into fuzzy darkness, your face buried in his shirt.

You closed your tired eyes, ready to do just that when your brain suddenly began operating again and your eyes flew open, one hand slapping the mattress in panic.

Minji. If you were in Seokjin’s bed, that meant you were in the Kims’ house, which meant Minji was on the other side of the wall - could catch you, had possibly already caught you.

Heart pounding practically in your throat, you slipped slowly out from under Seokjin’s arm. He had stirred, rolling a little, tucking that arm closer to his chest now that it had nothing to hold. He didn’t wake. You breathed a sigh of relief and started hunting around for your phone. You found it on the ground - it must have fallen off the bed in the middle of the night.

When you checked it, your question was answered -

[1:52 AM] Minji: did you go home??? [2:07 AM] Minji: you could have said goodbye!!! 😠

You press your phone to your chest out of sheer relief. She hadn’t found you, hadn’t peeked into his room on her way through the house last night, hadn’t spotted you two spooning of all things.

“Christ,” you’d muttered, frustrated with yourself for the close call, for falling asleep, for being so stupid over Seokjin even now when you were grown and had separate lives.

You had slinked out of his room on tiptoe, had scooted through the house as quickly and silently as you could, scarcely breathing until you were safely behind the walls of your own house across the street.

You and Jin never talked about it. A precedent, really.

–

The path of your orbit swung you out again - back to college, away from home, back into your world of classes and dorm life. The pieces of your adult life started to click into place as your senior year spun by - grad programs, internships, hints at a life in a different universe than the one you’ve known.

You and Minji graduated, returned for the summer.

There was a night you’d laid across from Minji on the swinging bench in their backyard, her feet in your lap. You two swang gently, eyes on the constellations above you, listening to music play from Minji’s bluetooth speaker.

“Next year’s gonna be weird,” you said, because it was all you could think about, then. You’d gone to college together, but you wouldn’t be together for grad school.

“We’ll be fine,” Minji had murmured, eyes closing.

You’d nudged her with your foot. “Don’t go to sleep. I’m trying to talk to you. I’m nervous.”

She had opened one eye, nudged you right back. “We’ll be fine,” she repeated, more firmly. “It’s not like we’re going to live on campuses in different states. I’ll be right here. You won’t be far, either.”

You lapsed into silence again. The swing tilted you back and forth, lulling you half to sleep.

“I broke up with that guy,” you muttered, half hoping she wouldn’t hear you. Instead, she sat straight up, almost overbalancing the swing and dumping you both on the ground.

“You what?” she asked. “Why?”

“I just wasn’t feeling it,” you explained. You were twenty-one that summer, starting to look at apartments you’d be able to afford while working part-time around grad classes. “Honestly, I was just bored.”

“You always say that,” she accused flatly. “I’ve never understood this about you. Everybody bores you. No one… sticks.” Her voice softens and she adds, “I worry about you.”

You laughed, once, and struggled to sit up. “I’m fine, Minji. None of them were… right. Someone will be.”

“But how will you know?” she pressed. “If you don’t give anyone a chance, how will you know when it’s right?”

Your chest clenched. Because I know what it feels like when it is, you thought, but you couldn’t say that.

“I just will,” you’d muttered, not an answer. You’d gotten up from the swing, heading for the house. “I need some water.”

As soon as you open the kitchen door, Jin jumped a mile. He’d been standing at the kitchen sink… next to the open window.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Were you listening?” you demanded.

Jin had flushed pink before you even spoke, telling on himself. “No,” he said hotly. “I was just here, and the window happened to be open, and -”

“And you eavesdropped,” you finished.

He faced you, lips pursed thoughtfully. “How come no one sticks?” he asked.

You honestly thought you heard him wrong. “What?” you’d uttered, sure he’d repeat himself and say something else entirely.

“Why,” he said again, more slowly, “haven’t any of the guys you’ve dated lasted?”

There was a roaring in your ears as you stared back at him.

“What am I supposed to say to that?” you countered, your voice suddenly a whisper. “Jin, what do I say to that?”

He stepped closer, looking down at you, suddenly dangerously close to being in your space. He murmured your name, reached for your hand. His thumb stroked the back of your hand once, his eyes on yours imploringly.

What were you supposed to say - “because none of them were you”?

The kitchen door opened with a slam and you leapt apart, Seokjin dropping your hand and wheeling around to face the kitchen sink again. With shaking hands you reached for a cabinet that held cups and glasses, rummaging like you were trying to find a good one.

“Get me one of those, please,” Minji asked, poking you in the side as she passed you, before plopping into a kitchen chair.

“Sure,” you’d said, praying that your voice wouldn’t give you away. Seokjin slipped away, down the hall, into the shadows.

–

“What do you think of the wine?”

You were in spanx, a black velvet dress Minji had bullied you into buying, heels that made your ankles swell, and a lipstick called Pretty Petunia.

The wine was too sweet for your liking.

But for the sake of your date, who’d made you reservations at a fancy Italian place, you’d smiled and demurred, “Not bad. What do you think?”

You barely heard his answer. It was your third date, and you’d been more bored at each one. He hadn’t made you laugh even once.

As the candle flame between you flickered and danced, you downed two more glasses of the too-sweet wine and did serious damage to the bread basket. When your date asked you if you wanted to go back to his place for a nightcap, you lied and said you had an assignment due by midnight for grad school and needed to get home.

When he dropped you back at your parents’, you showered and got into sweatpants. You climbed on your bed and pushed your curtain aside just a few inches, leaning your arms on the windowsill and laying your head on them. Your phone buzzed by your leg - the date.

You didn’t answer.

You kept your eyes on the window, on the Kims’ house.

Seokjin had moved out earlier that day - really moved out, taking everything with him to an apartment a plane ride away.

You hadn’t told him goodbye, hadn’t snuck out to the moving van for one last moment. He hadn’t texted you, hadn’t looked up towards your window.

He’d just left, and you’d sat here and watched him go.

You rotated in place, wobbling as Seokjin slipped further from your life. You adjusted to the procession. Life hurtled on.

–

The first time you brought a boyfriend home, you were twenty-four. Three years had passed since Seokjin moved away, two since you moved out of your parents and into your “swanky” apartment, one since Minji had moved to her own place not too far from you.

You didn’t have any expectations for your parents’ Christmas Eve party - the three Kim kids were around some Christmases, but not all. You hadn’t seen all three of them on the same day since before Seokjin had moved out. You knew Minji was coming - you’d texted. The boys? Who knew.

You were excited to see Minji for the first time in a while. You were nervous to bring your boyfriend around your extended family. You were trying desperately to keep Seokjin from even crossing your mind. You weren’t excited to see him. You weren’t nervous to see him. You tried to keep the Seokjin part of your brain perfectly blank as you led your boyfriend, Daniel, up the front walk of your parents’ house, careful to point out the ever-present icy patch near the front door.

Your parents greeted Daniel warmly. You’d been dating about two months, and he’d met them not that long ago. He was a nice guy, at the end of the day.

“Come on,” you murmured to him, after you’d hung up your coats and taken off your shoes. “I have to introduce you to my aunts. I’m sorry in advance?”

He’d look at you wide-eyed, nervous. “Why are you sorry?”

“They’re just… loud,” you’d said, already steeling yourself for the squeals and hullabaloo.

Daniel held up surprisingly well, smiling genuinely and repeating everyone’s name back to them to make sure he remembered it. He was a nice guy.

Christmas Eve dinner went smoothly. You sat near Minji, the two of you catching up in quiet voices as the loud conversation flowed around you. Daniel, bless him, kept up with the larger conversation, taking a more active role with your family than you were.

After the meal, people floated around the house in groups. Someone put on a Christmas movie in the living room, you helped your mom put desserts out in the dining room.

You were standing in the living room, leaning against Daniel a little, chatting with Minji and watching the Christmas movie over her shoulder when the front door opened, shooting a blast of winter air through the room. That’s what made you look up - the chill.

Seokjin came through the door with his eyes down, working his feet out of his boots before the door was even shut behind him.

“Jinnie!” Minji cried.

A few things happened in quick succession. Your chest clenched, your stomach dropped.

Seokjin’s gaze followed his sister’s voice, then found you. You watched it on his face as he processed - seeing you, recognition and affection flickering to life, then confusion as he took in the stranger behind you, and then his face went absolutely unreadable.

Daniel wrapped his arm around you, hard, pulling you against him wordlessly. He’d never been so assertive the whole time you’d known him.

Later, he’d asked you, “Is there history with you and Minji’s brother? It seemed, when he showed up…”

Weeks later, when he ended things, bitterness caused him to spit, “Call Minji’s brother and cry about it.”

So much for a “nice guy”.

You’d wished you could call Minji’s brother to cry about it. He would have made you smile again.

–

Jin’s shoulders were under your fingers, his ragged breath in your ear, his lips on your jaw. Nothing existed but him. Everything you’d spent almost your entire life hoping for was right here, within grasp - he’d called you beautiful, he’d pressed his lips to yours like he’d die if he didn’t, he kept you safe in the space between your arms if only for a few moments.

Then, he’d stepped away carefully, holding you up a bit until you were steady on your feet again. You adjusted your skirt as he zipped his jeans and stepped away towards the trash bins - to deal with the condom, you realized. Then he was back, close enough that you could see him in the dark again.

You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t know how to ask if this was what you hoped it was - if he wanted you, really wanted you, wanted to be with you. You didn’t want to look stupid - stupider - if this was just sex, nothing else.

“You probably shouldn’t come in right after me,” Seokjin said. Was there something glum in his voice, or were you paranoid? “Minji will sniff that out so fast.”

“Yeah,” you said. Your voice sounded warped to your own ears. “Got it.”

Got it. This didn’t mean a thing.

You stayed there, pressed close to the house, hiding in the shadows long enough for your pulse to calm, long enough to start to shiver. You hadn’t gone back inside at all - instead, you’d crossed the street and entered your parents’ house, falling asleep in your childhood bed.

It was fitting. You’d cried yourself to sleep as a child and teenager plenty of times in that bed. Might as well do it again.

In the morning, New Year’s Day, you’d texted Minji, “what’s up at your house?”

She’d answered, “dad just took jinnie to catch his plane. why? whats up?”

You’d played it off, said something like “just wondered if you were as hungover as i am”. You laid on your childhood bed and stared at the ceiling, tracing the bumps and cracks you knew by heart. You reminded yourself that you hadn’t asked Jin for anything, hadn’t told him anything. You had no right to be upset with him.

The only move was forward. So, that’s what you would do. You’d move on, and so would he.

Which doesn’t explain why now, two years later, you’re furious again.

You avoid the neighborhood, try to slip back into your old habits and old routine.

Your mother, of course, calls you out.

“Haven’t seen you in a bit,” she says to you on the phone, a few days after you’d made Jin hangover soup. She keeps her voice so innocent, but you hear the unsaid - you were here so much and then you stopped.

“Want to go out for dinner?” you suggest. “I’ll treat you and Dad to somewhere good?”

“I already started cooking for later,” she says. She sounds sorry, but you’re beyond sure it’s all a trap. She proves you right by adding, “You could come here for dinner, though. I made your favorite.”

Of course you did, you tricky devil, you think darkly.

“Okay,” you say, long-suffering. “I’ll come for dinner.”

“We’ll see you at seven,” your mom says, and hangs up.

You feel entirely like you’ve been hoodwinked. You’re just not sure how yet.

When you arrive for dinner, you walk in warily, half expecting an unpleasant surprise of some sort. But you find just your parents, delicious food, and a quiet house.

You eye your mother suspiciously through the whole meal, but nothing out of the ordinary happens. You help your dad wash the dishes when you’re all done, spend a little time sitting around chatting. Eventually, you eye the clock and tell them you should get home. You give them quick hugs at the door and step out into the night, pulling the door shut behind you.

Across the street, the Kims’ house is all lit up. Minji’s car is parked in the street, not far from your own, which means she’s there too. You wonder how many more days Seokjin will be in town, before he fucks off back to his own city again. He’d said he’d stay for a few weeks, and you’re already nearing the halfway point.

You were stupid to even talk to him again. You were stupid to go to their house, knowing he was there. You were stupid to let him flirt with you at the bar, to nearly let him kiss you. You were stupid to show up, uninvited, and fucking cook for him like a goddamn girlfriend. You shouldn’t have done any of it. You should have stayed away.

You’re all worked up, thinking this, as you stalk through your parents’ front yard, pushing the button to unlock your car. You open the driver’s side door, still fuming, furious at yourself.

The door is jerked out of your hand as someone slams it shut.

Seokjin faces you darkly, one hand still on your car.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you scold him. “Seokjin, what the fuck.”

“We have a conversation to finish,” he says, ignoring this.

You close your eyes, lean sideways onto your car. You don’t have the energy for this. “I have nothing to say,” you tell him, opening your eyes again to look up at him. “I’m sorry I threw a cheap shot at you. All that… it doesn’t matter now.”

“It doesn’t matter?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

You shake your head. “It was so long ago, and it didn’t mean anything… I shouldn’t have even brought it up again.”

His brows furrow. He murmurs your name, the same way he had in the back hallway at the bar. “I don’t think you mean that,” he says gently, and it makes you even angrier, angry that you have to stand here and feel foolish while he gets to pity you.

“Which part?” you snap. “It was two years ago, we haven’t talked in those two years, and bringing it up has been completely fucking pointless, so where’s the lie?”

He grimaces, shaking his head a little. “I wondered for months if I’d hurt you… if you were upset. I was really hoping you weren’t. But, clearly…”

“Fuck you,” you tell him, a derisive laugh edging its way into your tone. “You don’t get to show up out of nowhere and feel bad about it two years later. I’m over it - I’ve been over it. I just never got to tell you to your face that you were an asshole, and now I can.”

“I was in a bad place that night,” he says, trying to explain. “I only -”

“I don’t want your explanation,” you snap, cutting him off. “Believe it or not, Seokjin, I’m not, like, dying to hear the list of reasons why you were out of your head enough to make a mistake like me, that night.”

He literally steps away, eyes wide, his hand falling from your car and slapping the side of his leg as it lands. “Mistake?” he echoes, horrified. “Is that what you think?”

This trips you, knocks you completely off the furious track you’d been barreling down. “What?” you say, unconsciously trying to buy yourself time to process, to formulate a response.

He steps back toward you, closing the space between you. One of his hands comes up and rests on your cheek. For some reason, you let it, staying still and allowing it. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “It didn’t mean nothing. It wasn’t a mistake, and I should never have let you think differently.”

And then he’s kissing you, slow and gentle, nothing like the fiery kiss you’d shared two years ago. His thumb strokes your cheek so gently it almost tickles. You open for him, letting him take you deeper, tilting your head back to give him more room as he shifts to press you against your car. Your mouth moves against his, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip. Then he’s sucking lightly at it as you sigh against his lips. Your hands are clutching his jacket, your hips pushing against his like they’re asking for trouble.

And then you’re opening both hands and pushing him away, scrambling to get your car door open again. He looks at you, bewildered, your name a question falling from his lips.

“I can’t do this again,” you tell him brokenly, as honest as you can be. “I can’t do it again. I think it’ll kill me if I do.”

You drop heavily into the driver’s seat, tug the door shut, and pull away. You buckle up as you drive away, Seokjin getting smaller and smaller in your side mirror, standing in the middle of the street in the dark, watching you go.

You drive five more blocks and then pull over, pressing your hands to your face as you gasp for air through shuddering, stomach-clenching sobs.

Seokjin was seventeen the first time you got drunk at his house, really drunk.

He felt responsible, since it had been his own fault - it was his friend Yoongi who’d come over with a handle of vodka. He’d been the one to tell you and Minji you could have a little. So when he watched you use hands and feet to climb the stairs and head up towards his kitchen, he’d followed, to make sure you didn’t fall down and get hurt.

He knew you’d gone outside because you’d left the kitchen door wide open. He’d followed, silently, closing the kitchen door behind himself. You were laying on your back in the yard, hands clutching fistfuls of grass, eyes on the sky above.

He’d laid next to you, a few feet away, asked you how the yard was.

“Spinning,” you’d told him, the word so badly slurred he almost couldn’t tell what you’d said.

And then you’d flopped your head towards him, those eyes swimming with something he thought he could understand, and you’d said, “Sometimes I feel like everyone looks right through me. Like maybe I’ll be see-through forever.”

Seokjin had reached across the grass, taking your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. He’d given your hand one squeeze, and you’d closed your eyes, turning your face back up towards the stars.

“I can see you,” he’d assured you. He didn’t know if you’d remember in the morning or not. But it had felt important to make sure you knew.

He could see you.

He had always been able to see you.

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ehehehehe i hope you liked this update!!! a little peek backwards :) thank you for reading and i hope you continue to enjoy!!!!!

i'm taking a week off of posting because I am traveling for a Family Event (send help) so part 3 will post on Friday, June 16th. thank you for understanding!

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aihoshiino · 2 months

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chapter 145 thoughts!

what even was this chapter, y'all. i'm getting a migraine.

While it certainly wasn't actively bad, it basically hits on enough of the issues I've been having with the Movie Arc that if you've been reading my chapter reviews lately, you could probably write this one yourself. Weird pacing, skipping over interesting parts of the movie, continued framing of AQRB as a shallow gag and failing to follow on any of the implied development from or literally any referenced fallout of the kiss in 143? It's all here, babes. It would ultimately just be boring and redundant for me to go over all that at length again, so I won't.

I will however say that I'm pretty disappointed we're blasting through what had the potential to be some really interesting bits of postmortem characterization for Ai, even filtered through 15YL. I don't mind the manga breezing past scenes we saw firsthand but like… how did Ai react when she realized she was pregnant? How did she feel, especially given that Spica once again emphasized her longing for a family of her own? IDK. The way the story is suddenly jolting forwards in these last few chapters and skipping such huge chunks of Ai's life ultimately feels very strange and I don't know what to make of it yet.

Everyone reacting to Crow Girl's acting was pretty funny though I'm kind of exhausted with Ruby's Gaga-For-Oniichansensei Gag Character flanderization. IDK if my tolerance for it is just decreasing or if it really is amping up, but at least in the 125-137 stretch I at least got the sense that they could be in the same room and have a normal conversation but ever since 139, it feels that bit more relentless. I imagine this would be less irritating if we knew how the aftermath of 143 had played out but it really seems like the manga is going to drag this out until we're all old and grey.

THAT SAID, this chapter does confirm that Aqua's hoshigan stayed white after that chapter and… eh. Who even knows what that means lol. It does at least imply that his talk with Ruby has brought him back to Baseline Aqua but Baseline Aqua is still a guy with every single mental illness on planet earth so I don't know if that's the world's biggest W quite yet. It certainly implies an improvement over double black hoshigan but… again, with Aqua being so totally cut off from the readers this whole arc and no idea of what happened in the aftermath of 143, it's impossible to make a meaningful guess as to wtf is going on with Aqua right now.

Oh yeah, uh. This chapter also I guess constitutes the reveal of how the AQRB reincarnation happened. I guess LMAO. Honestly, I don't have much to say about it other than it feels like a bit of an anticlimax for me? The idea works fine, the execution just left me… idk. Whelmed at best, underwhelmed at most. I feel like this backstory and the implied deep fondness for GRSR -> AQRB it implies doesn't really like up with the personality she displays in the Private arc but like, I kind of feel like she was tossed into the story without Akasaka having a clear idea as to what her role was even going to turn into so maybe that's not a surprise LOL

I will say I'm glad this seems to quash the theory that Aqua and Ruby were secretly capital-G Gods, instead framing it as a Tsuru no Ongaeshi type return of kindness to two otherwise mundane people. There was some fun fan theorizing around the idea, but for me personally, Oshi no Ko is most interesting when it focuses on that aspect of the story Akasaka highlighted in an interview recently, of human relationships being warped by the entertainment industry and I think an explosion of the emotional stakes to the cosmic scale of AQRB (or tbh any of the characters) being Secretly Gods All Along would be a bit of a shark jump for me and would really shift away from what I like about the series most.

That's kind of it for this one…! Not really a lot to say about this chapter, which is why most of this review was me explaining why I didn't have a lot to say about it.

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #chapter reviews #onk spoilers

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heartingeto · 8 months

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𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨

Summary: Who was to say, that he didn’t love you, how couldn’t he love you?

Genre:Fluff at the ending, Uhm..this took way longer than I anticipated, the writing and me uploading. Also the wrd count is like 8k I think..like the writing?? So sorrry!!

Warnings: NSFW, OFCCC FLUFF, DEMANDING, SQUIRTING, FINGERIN!! UHMM..Saliva trading??? CREAMPIE, virgin y/n soft dom getou, but he lightens up being submissive tooo, and I think that’s all, if I missed me summm..let me know!

It’s been two months since you and Suguru Getou been dating. Y’all two been spending time together but always as usual. Though ever since the encounter..with the two of y’all sometimes overplayed in your head. He haven’t made any moves since then, but…he’s been more grabbier. Touching you, not sexually but as a comfort feeling. Of course you didn’t mind it you rather enjoyed it, it was appealing. You was laying across your bed on your stomach, waiting for Uru to get done showering. In Particular your activity, you was drawing just to draw it was something you liked doing but it wasn’t goal wise. ‘Click’ was the sound the bathroom made , coming to realization he was out the shower. Turning around, you sat up facing him. The view was a sight to take in— water was still dripping, but towards his biceps. His frame made your thighs closed in..I’m sure he noticed and , his baby hairs were laid across his forehead.

Noticing you, he’d give a soft smile even chuckling in process . He always loved teasing you. It was intoxicating. You avoided your eyes from his laughter. “awwww, princess don’t be like that.” you took notice in his words, still budged to move or even look back in his direction. You guess he took upon..himself to force you cause you was suddenly faced with his palm grasping at your cheek. Noticing he had already hovered over you, you stared at him, and he had that same lazily smile..when you were sucking his P— oh no..now it’s playing in my head again. you saw the shift in Uru eyes…they looked like they wanted to…— I don’t know, devour me? You couldn’t really read his mind but hearing his voice fully caught your attention. “Mmmm…y/n watchu wanna do? Have anything in mind?” You just stared at him once more, of course you took his words in clearly he wanted me to do something? Have something planned? Then…, then you thought of it.

Your palms ran across his shoulders, and you noticed the sudden shiver he gave. Probably cause your doings were off guard? It didn’t matter, cause you was suddenly pulled in for a kiss… really— 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔…? It..? Would you actually let him..fuck you? You mean, you were ready but you knew you wanted this but you don’t know why you were getting way too over stimulated from the kiss that you two had shared. It was..rather..pleasant you could taste the aftermath toothpaste. Just from the kiss alone without any tongue included, but he must’ve read your mind cause..his warm tongue had made access within your mouth. It caused you to let out a minimum 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒓 it seemed like he acknowledged it cause he firmly pressed his body against mine. You only wore one of his shirts , no 𝒃𝒓𝒂 just 𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 you could already feel the heat in between your legs . You was feening for him…you..— you didn’t know your mind and body could get so adjusted to something so small, but oddly pleasurable.

He was just..sloppily letting his tongue do whatever it wanted, he was really dominating your mouth..all you could do was fidget underneath him. That was until he decided to pull away, he stared down at you, your pupils..wandered off..you forgot! He had a towel on only..you could make out something..his length. You quickly adjusted your look with a ‘’mmcht” sound and he looked puzzled cause you did just smack your lips. He paused for a moment, his voice seeping into the depths of my ears. “Smackin ya lips at me? Did i do sum wrong’?” You replied..”No…you didn’t do anything uru..I just want more.., more of you..please..?” You pleaded, your eyelashes baiting making a pouty expression. All he did was click his tongue and had a shitty eating grin on his face lifting himself off of you. Getou sat on the bed, his palms on each side of the mattress, he tilted his head at you.. you was..you knew your panties were becoming wetter. You could tell by the way your own body reacted. Even the slightest move made your legs close in..he noticed it you sure he did. He may not speak upon..but oh..he knows. The stare..that stare made you swallow , swallow harder than you anticipated you didn’t move..you couldn’t not if he told you to, and he did. He told you to move forward. “Cmmmre, take off my towel.” Is what he had said.

You being..well,you? He, he…. changed you. You weren't this, this submissive but you wouldn’t dare defile his words—..you grabbed on the edge of his towel and slowly slipped it off. He lifted up a little so it could slide off with that being a comply , his length..the brownish pretty length you saw for..you dunno how many times now. Yes, you were a virgin, but did that stop us from partaking in oral sex? No. You didn’t know what to do next, so you waited staring into his brown softened eyes. Really, Suguru was actually too good to you, one of the things you cherished about him you was lost in thought just to hear his husky voice..? “Mmm..alright, baby wan’ you to prove you want all of me, show me don’t be shy, lil girl.” That phrase made your heart, and your pumpum skip a beat..cause why did it have to affect you the way it did..? you gladly obliged , leaning down, you pleaded on both knees, the position. Slowly opened your mouth,you took his length in the tip, swirling your wet tongue around it..down here you could smell the musky yet…Dove + Men care scented all over him. He gave off a small grunt, his raven hair ; the strings pushing in front of his eyes whilst looking down at you, he used his left palm to rub in your curly natural hair he balled his fist into the locs, a firm settlement grip being placed.

“Y/N, play with that pussy for me, kay? While you use that pretty mouth of…., yours.” He struggled with the last part huh? Though..you inched your left palm towards your pumpum lifted up..your, well his shirt our shirt actually. You rubbed against your pumpum, teasing the fatness of the lips whilst softly letting out gentle voices.”Y/n focus on licking..or I’ll use that pretty throat lil girl.” You couldn’t help it..you were already becoming a mess and it was from his words. The phrase he used caused your mouth to open wider, you let your tongue stick out as far as it could and slurped all over his length..this time it sounded more like a soft moan that slipped past Getou lips. “Mmm..girl..stop the succin..I know this gon ya first time , but..you gon ride me. You can do that right.” It didn’t sound like a question..it was more..of a “I say, you deliver.” You stared at him through your watery eyelashes. You was too amused that the little suction you gave him came to a halt. He gritted his teeth in response from the light teasing but it seemed he didn’t mind. You slowly lifted up, along with our shirt we wore. Your milky, brownish breasts plopped out the size wasn’t too big or too small, it was great for a..

Yanno..? A tiddy fuck! He stared, he was drooling even his mouth was parted half way. You felt the grasp of Suguru’s hands around your frame. He pulled you on top of him, was he getting impatient..? Now, your chest pressed into his own one, and you felt the now arousal feeling within your chest, breasts? The nipples had hardened and he gave off a deep small chuckle, his hand going underneath your tubby tummy, just a lil stomach fat..but Suguru never mind such..you noticed he was palming your pumpum. A soft sound escaped from your vocals he exhaled softly, while staring deep into your darker brown orbs he held a soft sincere smile..how did he— you couldn’t really base it, you was too turned on to even..let your mind babble about such nonsense at this moment. He slid your panty to the side, it clenched down on your left ass cheek and his other hand had a grasp at it. Giving it a grip, he purposely made the cheek jiggle whilst he continually moved his fingers. “O-…ohhh..Uru, feels g-..good I thou-..thought I was gonna ride..?” He stared, one of his thin eyebrows raising..”Yeah..?” He continued moving his fingers, and you could hear the little sounds your pumpum gave..he didn’t stick them in..but you was already that wet..? you felt embarrassed. “Y/n..I’m not a bragger, but..you cannot.take.me. I have to stretch this puthy out.” The term he used for pussy..his voice made you lean into him but the hand that was playing with your ass cheek, pulled up to distance. “Stare at me girl.” Within that speech he slipped two fingers within your squelching hole that craved him so dearly.

You was moanin, panting even a little of drool seeped from the corners of your mouth, and he enjoyed every ounce of seeing you so..stuck. Even himself had a hard time. It was hard for a min now..but it was worth it. Each time your heat soaked up his abdomen or your soft voice escaped his length twitched he groaned along with ur sounds, he found..he found that particular spot— oh how his fingers worked like magic..no, they were magic. Fuck, it felt so good you was moving your hips, and he stared biting his bottom lip whilst leaning up in your ear. “Gonna cum? Make that fuccin puthy squirt, gonna make a mess baby?” Ohhhh..! His words pushed it, your walls clambered down he winced at the tightness he felt. You were cumming, even squirting while his fingers guided you through your high your legs trembled and voice felt or was..a little hitched. You felt throughout all the times he had fingered you..thus was the far best orgasm you reached, maybe cause you was so fucking horny. It seemed he couldn’t hold back, cause you felt yourself being lifted up hovering over him with that strength, well…he always had it.. you just didn’t know he could maybe pick you up..? You thought I guess muscles sometimes did mean everything.

On top of Uru, his angry length slapping against your pumpum. You flinched a little, then he directed it towards your twitching hole, it caused you to wince just a little and he held you tightly. He didn’t want you to run I guess. “Look baby, it’s gon hurt..you gon have to bare with me, I wanna feel you just as much..” was all he said..before getting a good angle at your needy hole, with yourself already stretching. One thrust, with a slam of your hips being downward, a sudden murmur whine had escaped your throat. Oh..the pain wasn't as bad..but it sure as hell was a stretch, it’s as if his fingers ain’t do any justice but just for him.. you’d take it. Slowly, he thrusted his hips meeting both of y’all’s crotches with each plap sound..for some reason your voice left those plump brownish lips of yours. Your juices also made it easier and he was a mess, his face the hue of his light painting. He had both of his palms on each side of your waist, his fingers sometimes fiddling with the stretch marks or he’d grab at your ass just to make it jiggle even though it did that on its own when it crashed into him. Y’all both were moaning, sweat dripping from your brown skin and his being included. He was in control..it’s been about a good 5 minutes and your pumpum was feeling better than before..oh so much better. The pain that was there left a good..stimulating feeling, a rosie feeling you couldn’t comprehend.

“Shitttttt…pussy so good gripping me like crazy..” His words held such a sultry to them, the way he said it..why was he so..fuckin..’ attractive. You remember what he said, so you arched your back a little..and you had a good idea, you were gonna ride him well. So you enchanted your speed, moving your hips up and down on his crotch…! “Uhffhmm, uru so g-..ggggoooood..” your mind felt clouded and you didn’t even notice how getou face expression look cause you began to have fun..you wanted to take over and he was the one letting out moans now..his palms moved upwards until they landed on both breast’s. Flicking at your nipples, you started to move your own hips in a circular motion..oh shit! Wanting to take advantage seem to fail..cause he was hitting that sweet spot..and your hips slowed down which made him notice. He didn’t like that, that you played with him , I mean of course he did! But he had to show you that..you can’t go against him during this kind of play. So he started thrusting his hips upwards while a sudden whiney sound slipped past your mouth..”A-..uhhhh!! Uru, please—“ He knew you was close, he was reaching his breaking point as well, he used his free hand to make your back arch against his chest. His thrust being a constant rapid pace and your pumpum was gushing like crazy even if you hadn’t come yet. The noises however,

they were like music to his ears, and he enjoyed every bit of it, he enjoyed everything about you that's what brought him the most satisfaction. Doing whatever that made you happy, “mmmm..pussy so wet,,, gonna cum?? Squirt that fuccin pussy all over this dicc, come on girl ride this shit.” Oh..! You were doing it, y’all was moving in sync and you were already squirting all over him..it wasn’t as if you hadn’t been delaying your orgasms..cause you was! You had little mid ones..but this! Was the peak, your hands was on the sides of the bed keeping yourself up. Uru roughly sloppily pull you into a tongue kiss session, his saliva trading with yours while he jitters, dumping his nut within your walls. He even lets his moans out within your mouth and it causes your walls to tighten such that he breaks the passionate kiss. Looking at you, he held you in a huggy position. “Fuckin love you Y/n you’ll forever be my baby, my princess, my joy my pride.” Your stomach and heart caught butterflies while his length poured the rest inside, and you felt the warmth you were sure some even split out, coating a ring of mixture fluids around his length. The sheets were soaked now but shit..staying like this a little longer wasn’t bad either. “Suguru..I love you tooo..we should wash up..” “mmmm…mmmm.., yeah we should.”

holsjsshehehey HOLY SHIT IM SORRY GUYS THIS WAS LONG BUT THIS THE LAST UHMM FIC WTV U WANNA CALL IT, if I made grammar mistakes sorrrry look I wanna have my own style , USING SORTA PUSSY AND DICK MAKES ME CRINGE BUT I RLLY LIKE THIS I HOPE YALL DID TOO.

#x reader #jjk smut #black y/n #jjk geto #getou suguru x y/n #jjk fanart #jjk x you #writing #smut #jjk x y/n #jjk headcanons #jjk fanfic #jjk gojo #getou angst #chubby #chubby reader #everyone

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nametakensff · 5 months

Text

Suggestible (D/isco E/lysium, M/M)

The first fic of a few I have for these two because I am deeep into this shit now lol. Ended up at 4K!

H/arry, whilst working on the murder case in M/artinaise and ever so slowly piecing his identity together, notices an interesting reaction in K/im to his budding cold. I guess the first part of a series that will become increasingly NSFW, but for now mostly just alluding to it!

Based on an insane little piece of dialogue in the game where K/im suggests that other people sneezing makes him sneeze

~~~~~~

Content:

Future/hinted M/M, cold sneezes, sympathetic sneezes, H/arry has a latent sneezing fetish that he doesn't remember having yet, spray, stifles, sneezing into handkerchiefs, slight elements of voyeurism but only because H/arry is a confused mess lmao

CW: lots of drug and alcohol mentions, lots of self-hatred

NB - I guess please don't read if you plan on playing the game and want to go in with no prior knowledge - it doesn't really have any plot heavy spoilers but takes place within the story

(also also - decided to write this in 2nd person narrative to somewhat resemble the style of game play - it's not perfect but it was fun to try haha)

Minors DNI please!

Lieutenant Kitsuragi trails behind you as you jog your way across the empty boardwalk and towards the fishing village. The air is piercing and bitterly cold – you are starting to feel the effects of it as the salty air whips against your face. It has been snowing on and off for hours, and you are woefully underdressed. This has not been a good day for you – few new leads, endless dead ends. And a hangover. The hangover to end all hangovers. Not even the frigid winter weather can distract you from the dull thud of a lingering headache, painful pulses beating in time with your heart. It feels as though your brain is too swollen – or your skull is too tight.

Suddenly, you feel it – the familiar, fluttering sensation of a building sneeze. You have been a little under the weather ever since you awoke in your hotel room several days earlier, having no recollection of who you are and woefully bereft of substances to abuse. You had put any subsequent discomfort down to just that – the miserable lack of alcohol, nicotine and narcotics in your system. This tickle, however – it is something all of its own. You stop dead in your tracks, practically skidding to a stop as it crests. You have no hope of holding back the encroaching sneeze. Your mouth hangs open, a great yawn of irritation, before – at last – release.

It comes out sounding more like a desperate shriek than anything else; a few startled seagulls scatter, flying away in a maelstrom of confusion and feathers. You didn’t mean to cause such a scene, but the cold air, the breeze, and now the beginning of a miserable cold – it all proves too much for you. You take in another shuddering gasp before you’ve even recovered from the previous explosion and do it all over again.

“HAAAEEEIISHHHHhhh!!!”

There are no seagulls left to scatter this time, but you hardly notice for the way this sneeze, even more violent than the one before it, sends you flying forward and staggering on your feet. You manage to catch yourself before you fall face down on the sandy ground, panting slightly in the aftermath. It practically tore itself out of you, leaving your throat more than a little hoarse. Perhaps a drink would be just the thing to remedy your misery…

You’re shaken out of your alcoholic deliberation by a familiar, soft voice. Lieutenant Kitsuragi is resting a gentle, gloved hand on your shoulder, hovering next to your crouched form. His voice is as placid as always, but you can’t help but notice a slight hint of concern. You right yourself immediately and snuffle at the mess that’s threatening to overflow from your nose, already a bright shade of red from years of alcohol abuse and the biting cold of the beach.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor?”

The Lieutenant notices the thickness of the sound, a barely perceptible look of displeasure passing over his face. You see him reach into his pockets and pull out a large handkerchief – the very same you have seen him use before to cover his face as you performed a field autopsy together. He proffers it to you and you hesitate for just a moment - then your nose starts to run into your moustache. This prompts you to take it from him and snuffle into it apologetically. You realise this pathetic sniffling will do nothing to stem the flow – you surrender and blow your nose with as much conviction as you possibly can. The sound of it is devastatingly loud, almost as disruptive as the sneezes preceding it. You glance at Kim sheepishly from behind the material. If it’s as disgusting to Lieutenant Kitsuragi as it sounded to you, he doesn’t so much as flinch.

When you’re finished, you offer the soiled fabric back to him with an outstretched hand. He looks at it with mild dismay.

“You keep that, officer. I carry a spare with me at all times.”

Stupid. That was stupid of you. Why would you hand him a snot rag? You dismiss the thought before the negativity drags you down further into the already miserable grips of your hangover. But for whatever reason, you keep note of this new information regarding the handkerchiefs. It’s not as though this is out of the ordinary for Kim. He’s so organised and focused – a great cop. Not like you. Of course he would carry a spare. Moving on, you ask the lieutenant for his opinion of what you ought to do next.

“Hm…We should return to the Whirling-In-Rags. Try Klaasje again and see if she’s ready to discuss the murder in more detail.”

It sounds like a perfect idea to you. The wind is fiercely cold and you never did get round to buying a windbreaker. Your hangover is making it impossible to tell if the major discomfort you’re feeling is from the alcohol dissipating within your husk of a body, or the virus threatening to take hold of your sinuses. Either way, getting out of the cold is imperative.

You approach the vicinity of the Whirling-In-Rags Hostel – at last. Your chest burns. Normally, a brisk jog is nothing to you – if anything, it energises your ailing body after a particularly lengthy binge. But today, you feel miserably worn out. You pause for a moment, look towards the Lieutenant, and attempt to speak. You fail, nothing but a series of wheezing gasps issuing from between your lips, followed by an increasingly hacking cough. You buckle over your knees and continue to hack like the washed-up middle-aged man you know you are. Kim places a hand on your back - he seems worried.

“This isn’t good. You’re unwell, detective. Perhaps you should rest a while in your room?”

Something tells you this isn’t a suggestion exclusively for your own benefit. A perfunctory glance tells you that Lieutenant Kitsuragi is tired, and as miserably cold as you. He wouldn’t mind a break inside a warm building, thawing out over a cup of coffee. Nevertheless, you feel disappointment blooming in your chest. As if you weren’t already a pathetic excuse of a policeman - missing memory, decked head to toe in questionable clothes and with a penchant for drug and drink on the clock – you’re now so weak you can’t even handle a mild case of rhinovirus. Pathetic.

You stand upright in an attempt to signal that you are and always have been a perfect beacon of health. You tell the Lieutenant that time is of the essence; you’ve been working on this case for days and have no time for further setbacks. He acknowledges this with a small nod; he seems to appreciate this professional, business-like approach to the matter. He doesn’t say anything more but merely walks beside you as you stride towards the Whirling-In-Rags.

You barely manage to take a few steps before the tickle is upon you again. You tense your jaw and attempt to quell the sensation by taking in shallow, measured breaths, but no dice. In seconds, it tears its way out of you as before, echoing off the walls of the nearby buildings. It is so loud that you wonder if the scabs protesting outside of the Union can hear it over the sounds of their own angry chants. Again, you stumble forward under the force of it, feeling light-headed.

The Lieutenant reaches out to grip your shoulder, steadying you just in time. You wait and sniffle miserably in preparation for the following sneeze, lingering in the depths of your sinuses, but it never comes. You straighten up, blinking tears of effort from your tired eyes, when you become aware of a certain sensation. Kim’s hand squeezes your shoulder with a sudden flex. Could this be a gesture of affection? Reassurance? This is not the Lieutenant’s regular style. He is far too cool for that kind of thing.

You look over your shoulder in curiosity as the Lieutenant continues his grip, despite your having collected yourself. You can see that behind the lenses of his glasses, his eyes are unfocused and heavy-lidded. His mouth hangs slightly open, and he is holding a fist – expectantly? – before his face. The expression is…familiar. You’d seen it before, though not on Lieutenant Kitsuragi.

As you furrow your brow in deep consideration, reaching for an explanation that only just manages to elude you, slight movement from Kim pulls you out of your thoughts. You watch as his head tilts back, stays there for a just a moment before he’s jerking forward into his gloved fist, pressing it against his nose and mouth. His features contract severely, moulding his ordinarily placid face into a twisted, almost angry and unrecognisable countenance. You feel his fingers flex again. His entire body shudders, and as it does so, you hear him utter a tiny sound.

“-hHdt’!”

You blink, still not putting two and two together. Maybe this amnesia was worse than you had initially assumed it to be. Was he – seizing? No. Of course not. You continue to watch in confusion as he seems to uncrumple with a gentle exhalation. You think he might be done, but no. Just as quickly as one breath is exhaled, a replacement is sucked back in hurriedly. You watch as he repeats the action, ducking forward into his fist again, more forcefully this time. His shoulders jump with the effort and his hand squeezes substantially harder against you.

“h’Ngxt-!! hh…”

That strange sound again – this time followed by an uncharacteristically shaky exhale. A moment later the Lieutenant straightens up and assumes his regular composure, releasing your shoulder as if nothing just happened. If you hadn’t watched this series of events unfold right in front of you, you’re sure you would have missed it altogether. He blinks several times as if to clear away tears. Still you have no idea what the fuck just happened – any remnants of the pained expression that cinched his features tight has vanished, leaving him to look as calm and collected as before. You stare at him, eyes roving over his face. This intrusive observation gives you the last bit of information you need to understand. His nostrils flare delicately as he indulges in a sniffle, moisture gathering around the irritated rims and glittering ever so slightly in the afternoon sunlight.

Had those been…sneezes? Those tiny little swallows of air?! You feel a grin spread across your face, any discomfort of your own forgotten for the moment. You bless him enthusiastically. Ignoring the inkling that tells you not to tease or cajole him, you also comment on how adorable the Lieutenant’s sneezes are. Like a kitten. A badass cop kitten.

He thanks you somewhat reluctantly, blatantly ignoring the kitten comment. He clearly wants you to move on from him and focus again on the case. You continue to make your way towards Whirling-In-Rags, but don’t miss out of the corner of your eye the sight of the Lieutenant covertly pinching his nostrils shut, before pulling down towards his septum. He is wiping the resultant moisture of those sneezes away with his gloved fingers. This realisation makes your heartbeat spike for just a moment. You choose to ignore this.

You walk into the establishment – the increasingly familiar sounds and sights greet you as you pass through the door. The Hardie boys are in their booths, an unwelcome fixture. You glance sidelong at them – Titus glares daggers back at you. You think you should puff up your chest and stare him down in a battle of warring machismo, but at last minute think otherwise. It would do nothing to repair your already abysmal lack of authority if you sneezed at him mid stand-off. You glance away. He smirks, arms crossed firmly over his broad chest, clearly enjoying this silent display of dominance. You get an all-consuming urge to spin around and put him in his place – but you feel shitty. Much too shitty. It would probably end with his fist in your face.

You approach the staircase leading to the bedrooms when you feel that familiar, irritating tickle blossoming anew in your sinuses. Not again, not here! Not in a busy room full of so many people. You want to maintain your cool cop image – sneezing is not a cool thing to do. You briefly think to yourself that Kim is cool, even when he sneezes - but it is a foolish thought. You’re not him. You fight to suppress the gasp that fills your lungs, fumbling in your jacket pocket for the handkerchief the lieutenant had given you – but you’re too late. Two huge sneezes rocket out of you, sending veritable clouds of spray across the base of the staircase. They practically break the sound barrier, two near identical “IIIIEEEESHHHHhhtt!!!” screams of irritation. Kim doesn’t steady you this time – you reach out and do that yourself with the help of the banister.

Jeers erupt from the Hardie boys across the cafeteria floor – you only just manage to hold back an embarrassed blush from creeping over your weary face. You have finally managed to extract the handkerchief from your pocket. You decide a honking performance will do very little to remedy this utter humiliation, dabbing softly at your aching nose instead. You begin to climb the stairs; a sordid walk of shame.

“That’s just what this establishment needs, following the hanging, bloated corpse – a biohazardous drunk anointing his plague unto us all.”

That snark came from Garte – the bartender. No, the Cafeteria Manager.

“Just ignore him.” Kim mutters close to your ear. You proceed to flip the bird at Garte instead. As you make your way upstairs, you swear you can hear a tiny gasp from behind you. Without the sensation of a hand gripping your shoulder and signalling the completion of a sneeze, you have to strain your ears to even confirm they happen at all.

“’Ngxt’ch! h’ddt’! Hh’Ggkt!!”

Those are definitely sneezes. Slightly louder than before, enough that you can hear the Lieutenant’s own soft voice blending in with the strained sound of them. Your stomach is suddenly alive with butterflies. In your mind’s eye you can visualise the way his face crumples with each of them – nostrils flaring outwards as he valiantly bites down against them. You are sure if you try to do the same, your head will explode. Or at the very least, an aneurism is a surefire possibility. You shudder at the thought of it. You want to offer a blessing to the Lieutenant, but based on the previous reception it received, you decide against it. This could be the start of a beautiful partnership – Harry’n’Kim, Du Bois and Kitsuragi. Disco Cop and Cool Cop. You can always brainstorm on your trademark duo name at a later date. Either way, you decide to ignore the Lieutenant’s strangled outburst. A soft exhalation behind you signals that he is finished – for now.

You reach the top of the stairs. With great dismay, you realise that perhaps for the first time in your life, you are experiencing firsthand the effect of all those years of chain smoking. The wheezing gasps bend you over for a moment. Lieutenant Kitsuragi stands nearby, just short of nervously hovering, waiting for you to recover. You finally catch your breath and stride as confidently as you can towards Klaasje’s room. You extend a fist to knock on the door when you feel the soft touch of Kim’s hand on your arm, stopping you in your tracks. This has to be a new record. He has touched you on four separate occasions – all in a span of under thirty minutes.

“Perhaps you should take this opportunity to rest after all, detective.” Kim offers. You sense by the firmness of his voice that this is less of a gentle suggestion and more of a request. He smiles wryly.

“You are not very likely to get her to open up to you if you deafen her with your sneezing.”

Your stomach flips at hearing that word come out of his mouth. It is confusing but not entirely unpleasant. Whilst he doesn’t laugh, you can see the amusement held in the subtle quirking of his lips. You think for a moment that you should tell him your sneezes are the pinnacle of masculinity – ladies dig a huge, manly sneeze. You choose instead to sigh, practically deflating as any will to remain poised upright seeps out of you. You know he’s right. The filthy sheets of your bed beckon to you.

You agree with him and turn heel to your own room. He looks pleased – perhaps a little relieved. How disastrous did he think the interaction would have gone, had you proceeded? He turns to face you as you stand outside your respective doors.

“Don’t worry, detective. I will wake you up in a couple of hours, and we can resume our investigation. There is no point in making yourself ill.”

You nod. You are both about to enter your rooms when you feel it again. The tickle. It is persistent and increasingly difficult to control. You feel a gasp inflating your chest, helpless to do anything other than let the sensation overpower you. There is no time to even lift the handkerchief to your face. You do manage to turn away from the Lieutenant as the sneeze rips through you, baptising your own door with a trembling “aaAAAAEEEEGSHHHHhh!!!” A cloud of spray settles on the wood, droplets of spray shimmering under the harsh lighting. Gross.

“Bless you.”

A blessing. You feel relieved – and slightly giddy. Your stomach flips again. It is likely out of politeness, but the Lieutenant has at least not run for the hills in response to your disgusting display. You start to thank him when – oh, sweet confusion - he interrupts you with another sneeze of his own. He isn’t fast enough to bring a fist to his face this time. You can see every minute twitch of his facial muscles as he suppresses the sneeze through sheer willpower alone.

“Hh’Gnxt!! Huh’NGxtt!!”

The second sneeze follows immediately – his head dips twice in quick succession. That look of desperation suits him just fine, you think. You decide to abandon the thought as quickly as it forms. You are only partially successful in doing so. His hand reaches into the pocket of his trousers – he succeeds in removing the handkerchief in the duration of that second sneeze, you notice in great appreciation. You would never have managed to pull that off.

You watch as he raises the handkerchief before his face for a final sneeze. This one looks more irritable than the ones prior – the expression plastered on his face is openly more agonised than before. He pauses for what is likely only a second longer before the tickle reaches its apex, but that is more than enough time for another thought to cross your mind – one of an entirely salacious nature. You think that the face he is making resembles the sweet agony of another kind of release. You try to unthink it, but it’s too late – you’re absolutely, undeniably thinking it. The second passes. At last, the lieutenant smothers his final sneeze into the waiting folds of the handkerchief. It is considerably louder than before, even with the assistance of the fabric covering.

“hHh’nNGgxtt!!..chu…”

The soft vocal exclamation that rounds off the sneeze sounds weary, like it took a lot out of him. He sniffles briefly into the handkerchief, rubbing at his nose before tucking the cloth back into his pocket. Is it your imagination, or is said appendage starting to look a little reddened from the effort?

“Excuse me.” The Lieutenant mumbles, sounding uncomfortable. Embarrassed, perhaps?

You bless him before you remember to bite your tongue. Luckily, he accepts it with a soft “Thank you.” You watch as he removes his glasses and swipes at a stray tear rolling down his cheek. He replaces them just as quickly, giving you hardly any time to take in the sight of him without the thick frames. It is for a brief moment only, but the word ‘vulnerable’ comes to mind.

It dawns on you quite suddenly that he must be sneezing because you have infected him with your disgusting, no good germs. You ask him if this is the case, unable to hold back the shaking guilt as you voice your question-cum-self-abasement. He waves it off immediately.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that, detective, I assure you. I’m fine.” He pauses for a moment, looking hesitant to say more. You say nothing. This awkward silence seems to prompt him to continue.

“Sometimes the power of suggestion is too much for me. When somebody sneezes in my vicinity, I find my body often wanting to do the same. And your sneezes are particularly…” He trails off for a moment, in want of an appropriate term.

Masculine? Sexy? Bad-ass? You go with the first one. He shakes his head gently.

“…Suggestible.” He finishes. You’re not quite sure you catch his drift, but you do recall that he had mentioned something like this before. ‘Dancing makes you dance like sneezing makes you sneeze’. He had said that, in the church – he had been enthusiastic to interject, and then immediately changed the subject. You had had no idea what he had meant at the time – not once had you ever heard anyone say anything even remotely similar. It had been easily forgotten. Until now.

You smirk. You hope it isn’t akin to ‘the expression’, but is happening nonetheless. You cannot help it. This. Is. Gold.

You manage to hold back from laughing, but what you cannot help is calling him adorable. For the second time that day.

“I’m a 43 year old RCM policeman. I am far from adorable, officer.” He states firmly, almost as if he is chiding you. You do not miss, however, the softness in his eyes and the momentary twitching of his lips into a tiny smile. You do laugh at that. Bad idea. The laugh quickly morphs into a painful, wrenching cough. Whatever light-hearted moment you’d been sharing, you have ruined it. Your throat burns with the effort. God, but you want a drink. And a smoke. Maybe some speed. You finish at last, wiping spittle from your lips with the back of your sleeve.

“Please rest, Harry. I will check up on you soon.”

He casts a final worried glance your way before nodding curtly. You watch as the door clicks shut behind him. After a moment, you make your way into your own room, not even bothering to kick off your shoes as you collapse onto the pile of twisted sheets. Far too tired to think about the past that eludes you, about the case, about any of it, your eyes start to slip shut.

But it is back. The tickle. You have no means of fighting it, and you’re not sure you want to. You sneeze, smothering it into your sheets at the last second.

“HHHRRMMMPPPSHHHh!!!”

You peer cautiously at the sheets. You have left a considerably large damp patch on the section that covered your mouth and nose. Gross – that should be your middle name. You feel disgusting, but before you can begin another spiral of self-deprecation the exhaustion overwhelms you entirely. A final thought passes through your mind as you surrender to it. Did the Lieutenant hear you?

Next door, settling into the chair at his desk, Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi tenses at the sound of your sneeze. It was loud enough to be heard not only the next room over – indeed, anyone on the second floor may have been startled by it. His breath hitches, once, twice, before he is tipping forward into his gloved hands, steepled around his face. Depleted of energy from the prior onslaughts, he is unable to hold them back at all.

“-hh! Hck’tshuu! Hupt’Tshhht!! ‘TSCHH’uu!! hm...”

He glances in unmasked irritation at the damp speckling of moisture now adorning the palms of his gloves.

“Merde!” He grumbles under his breath. The Lieutenant pulls the gloves from his hands, pausing to scrub at his itchy nostrils with his knuckles for one indulgent moment, before resuming the paperwork he had failed to complete the night before. He hopes, for both your own sake and his, that once he wakes you your sneezing spell will have passed – due to a temporary chill and nothing more. Neither of you have the time for this absurdity. He sniffles once more and begins to write.

#nametakenfic #d/isco e/lysium #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz fet #snz kink #snz fucker #snzblr #sneeze fucker

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