#i can't be bothered to watch old videos again

[french-goodbye]

please never fall in love again

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: dating steve harrington is hard, especially when girls keep hitting on him.

notes: i wrote this a while ago but eventually forgot about it in the midst of all my wips lol. title from the song please never fall in love again by ollie mn.

you stare at the back of your boyfriend's head with narrowed eyes and your chin resting on your hands, an anger you know you shouldn't be feeling boiling beneath the surface of your skin. he, of course is none the wiser, as he is to most things, just chatting with eddie completely carefree by the bar.

you love steve harrigton, you really do. you think you fell in love with him on your first date and never really fell out of it. you've already planned your whole life with him, from getting married and having kids to growing old with him and sitting side by side on a wrap around porch. he's sweet, kind, he's great with kids and it doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes and great in bed.

his biggest flaw, however, is not exactly his fault. the worst thing about dating steve harrigton is the amount of women who hit on him on a daily basis. whether it's old ladies at the grocery store telling him he looks like their dead husbands or bored soccer moms looking for a little thrill or, the worst of all, the girls your age who slip him their phone number in old receipts over the counter at family video. these women are always there, like blood sniffing sharks, somehow finding a way to make a suggestive comment or a flirty joke.

most of the time, it doesn't really bother you even when it does happen in front of you. steve's the kind of guy who'd never cheat on you, simply because of who he is and how obsessed with you he is. sometimes, however, they can get a little too close and personal and you can't help but wish steve was a little less attractive. just a little.

and it's not that you don't trust him either, he's always quick and firm to shut them down when it happens. it's that they're the ones you don't trust, the girls with big permed blonde hair and fake tans and bright pink lipstick who look at you disdainfully when they realize you're together because they can barely take their eyes off of him for long enough to notice you're standing right next to him.

you're out at a bar celebrating jonathan's birthday when it happens this time, steve and eddie having offered to get everyone another round, the two of them leaning against the bar talking while they wait when a girl from the booth in the corner approaches them. she's clearly a little bit more than tipsy and obviously focused on steve as she talks to them, avidly taking him in and resting her hand on his forearm. he doesn't even blink, just smoothly leans away from her and tells her something that makes her leave as fast as she arrived.

you can barely hear nancy as she complains about her male coworkers on her summer job, as you heatedly stare at his stupidly nice hair and broad shoulders as your boyfriend laughs at something eddie said, hand scratching his neck. you're still watching him with scrunched eyebrows and a sour expression when you feel robin poking your cheek, making you look at her and gently slap her hand away.

"why are you poking me?"

"why are you staring at steve like he kicked your puppy?" she asks, frowning, looking back and forth between the two of you like a tennis match.

"i'm not" she gives you a flat look with raised brows. "fine," you huff. "why do women always hit on him? we can't take him anywhere"

"no idea, you tell me"

"urgh" you groan, throwing your arms around her and resting your head on her shoulder. "god, i hate men"

"amen sister" you hang onto her for a second as she takes a noisy sip of her empty drink through her straw and taps your back sympathetically a few times before gently pushing you away as steve and eddie walk back to your table, drinks in hands and still chatting distractedly.

she softly claps her hands, enthusiastically and telling you a quiet "yay" as she turns back to nancy and jonathan, as the two argue wether or not their coworkers are sexist (they totally are).

you're still laughing at robin's drunken antics when steve comes to your side again and sets your new drink on the table in front of you, resting his hand on your lower back. you let him but when he leans over you to press a kiss to your hair, you promptly dodge away from him and out of his reach. from the corner of your eye, you can see how he frowns at that and silently watches you for a second as you pretend to listen to what nancy says.

his hand on your lower back climbs all the way up to the back of your neck so he turn your head his away, forcing you to look at his big brown eyes staring at you like you just kicked his puppy and you almost feel guilty. almost.

"what's wrong?" he asks.

you shrug, "nothing's wrong."

"are you mad at me or something?"

"no" you slowly shake your head in negative, shrugging.

"gimme a kiss then" he rests one of his hands on your face tilting your head his way while the other on your neck guides your face to his. you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek and look away, accidentally making eye contact with the girl who just hit on him. she's watching the two of you, quickly looking away when she notices she was caught staring.

"you saw that, huh" he tells you, hands settling on your waist instead so he can look at you.

"hard not to" you huff, picking invisible lint from your pants.

"then you know nothing happened"

"of course i know that, i trust you" you complain as you roll your eyes and gesticulate to show your frustration "but i-it just makes so insanely angry when they touch you like that, like they have any right to-" you stop your ranting mid sentence when you realize the look on his face. "what? why are you looking at me like that?"

"nothing" he clears his throat and looks down to uselessly smooth non existing wrinkles on your top. you watch him though narrowed eyes and gasp when it hits you, making him look at you again. "what?"

"you like it when i'm jealous" you accuse, lightly poking his chest.

"no, i don't"

"yes, you do. i can't believe i never noticed it before" you huff an incredulous laugh, remembering all the times girls hit on him in front of you and he said nothing but affirmations of how much he's in love with you and how he could never want somebody else, acting more attentive and affectionate than usual later, pressing you against his body and kissing kissing kissing you until he was the only thing on your mind.

"okay, it's not what you're thinking" he replies running a hand through his hair nervously.

"what am i thinking, harrington?" you ask, lifting one eyebrow as a smirk makes it's way to your lips.

"it's not an ego thing" you laugh softly at him, letting your fingers run soothingly through the hair at the nape of his neck, finally giving into the temptation to get your hands on him. "it's just- i like knowing how much you want me just for yourself, how much you care about me."

you stare at him for a moment, taking in his sincere brown eyes and his fluffy hair, feeling impossibly endeared by the boy in front of you. he fidgets under your stare, so you smooth your hands down his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt.

"well, i do care... a lot" you tell him, pretending to be coy and batting your eyelashes at him. "but it's not like i blame her"

"what?" he looks at you blankly, confused.

"i mean, look at you" you pull him closer and then closer still, still smirking. "those nice brown eyes, the pretty hair, those shoulders... nevermind how much of a charmer you are. damn harrington, no wonder women keep throwing themselves at you."

"babe" he groans embarrassedly, "they're not throwing themselves-" he dramatically drops his forehead on your shoulder making you laugh at his discomfort, letting brown strands of hair slip through your fingers as you comfortingly pet his hair and he squeezes your waist in reprimand.

"it's true!"

he pulls you closer by the grip he has on your waist and burrows his face in the crook of your neck in lieu of an answer. you let him have it even though you would like to see his face and the way his blush is probably spreading from his cheek to his neck and rest your chin into his shoulder as you hug him.

"but one of these days i'll have to step in and defend your honor"

"please don't" he pulls away and cups your neck, thumbs brushing your cheek and staring at you disapprovingly, his eyelashes touching at the corners, the hint of a smile still on his face.

"i don't know, maybe i'll have to challenge them to a duel to the death" you disagree and look at him from under your eyelashes. he gives you an affectionate look that'd make you nauseous were it not directed at you and presses a long lingering kiss to your lips.

"shut up" he whispers against your lips. you gladly do, at least until eddie and robin start throwing balled up paper napkins at your head. it's worth it though.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #mine

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 10]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Words: 4.2k

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

When Minnie was six months old, you used to sleep on the couch so you wouldn't wake her up trying to get ready for bed. It would hurt your back - your couch was not very comfortable to sleep on - but you would sacrifice your comfort so she could sleep. No one in their right mind would wake a sleeping baby - even one that was always happy to go down for a nap. 

As your mind begins to stir, you become aware of the familiar ache in your lower back and the unfamiliar one pulsing around your eyes. Your hand slowly snakes up from where you had curled it against your chest and press your fingers along the bridge of your nose and up to the curve of your eyebrow, testing to see if the throbbing was sinus related. Nothing is triggered but your memories of the night before creep into your consciousness. 

Minnie with her tantrum and Matt with his amazing senses. 

You groan into the cushion as it all falls into place. Your eyes hurt from crying, not your sinuses, and you must have fallen asleep on the couch after your breakdown. 

Shame and embarrassment course through you. You hate crying and you hate that someone witnessed it. You can't imagine what he must think of you now - losing it like that. You should have been able to handle the news far better than you had and you're going to promptly apologize the next time you talk to him. You had acted so selfishly when it was clear he had control over the situation. 

But you don't have time to sit and wallow in your wretchedness - your daughter needs you to get up and be a capable adult, so you will your aching body to sit up. 

Your phone is sitting on the table in front of you, so you grab it to check the time. It's half past seven and your daughter has probably been awake for at least an hour. More shame courses through you - you always try to wake up before her so you can take care of her. You can only guess what state she is in. 

Your head spins as you stand, but you try to ignore it in favor of heading towards the bedroom. You prepare yourself to find a soiled bed - you didn't bother to change her into her night clothes and a pull-up and she is still mastering waking up when she needs to pee at night. 

The door is partially open and as you near it, you hear her tiny voice talking nonsense as she plays with something. You take a deep breath and push into the room, ready to face the start of your day.

Your mind short-circuits at what you encounter.

Both beds are clean and made, far tidier than you usually make them, and Minnie is sat on the floor with Scooby and some of her other stuffed animals, having what looks to be a tea party. To your absolute confusion, she is already dressed, and her hair has been put into pigtails with mismatched bows. You know for a fact she can't reach where you keep her hair supplies - you put them on a high shelf after she got into them to play salon before and managed to get her hair tangled so badly you had to cut things out. 

It doesn't even take her half a second to notice you and her little face breaks into the biggest smile, “Mommy!”

Still very much confused, you step forward to join the tea party circle and kneel down to be level with her. “Hi, sweetie,” you greet, trying your best to not alarm her. “Did you get dressed all by yourself?”

“Not-uh! Mister Matt helped! We watched lots of videos about hair and he made me pretty!”

You frown at that, “Mister Matt helped?” Had he stayed the night after you fell asleep? If so, where is he now? Your apartment isn't that big, and the bathroom door is open. Had he left before you woke up? You don’t like the idea of him leaving Minnie unsupervised.

Your daughter nods as she turns back to her toys, pretending to pour you a cup of tea and handing it over. You automatically pretend to take a sip.

“He helped make me pretty,” she confirms after putting her tea pot down, “now he's getting foods. Bagels!”

You turn the statement over in your mind - there is a bagel shop around the corner Minnie loves and if Matt is right about her also having enhanced abilities, maybe, just maybe, he didn't leave her unwatched. 

You bite your lip, then dare to push.

“Mouse, do you think you can tell me where Mister Matt is right now? Can you hear him?”

She doesn't acknowledge you right away, fussing with another piece of her tea set. You wait, allowing her to process what is being asked of her and watch as she slowly starts to move her head in minute movements, like she's tracking something. It's terrifying and fascinating to see a look of concentration come over her face and after about thirty seconds, she breaks into another big smile.

“He's talking to a frog!” 

“A frog..?” You ask, wondering if Matt was wrong about Minnie having heightened senses and she's playing pretend again.

“Yeah, he says…he says.. He's telling froggy he can't go to work. He's gonna stay with us!”

It clicks instantly. Matt isn't talking to a frog. He's talking to his business partner, Foggy Nelson, and as far as you know, Matt hasn't mentioned him or Karen yet by name to Minnie. 

“Can you tell where he is?” You ask again, being sure to be gentle with your question. 

“Outside,” is her response, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Froggies can't come inside. Do you want sugar?” She holds up her toy spoon and you offer her your tea cup.

“Yes, please.” 

She pretends to scoop sugar and you watch her in amazement. You are of course going to have to confirm that Matt was talking to Foggy, but it is so hard to believe your little one can hear that. You can't hear what is going on in your own living room, let alone outside your apartment. You cannot imagine how loud everything must be, how much input Mouse must be getting - but she doesn't seem bothered by it at all right now. 

She seems to be completely over her tantrum from yesterday and you want to ask her about it, but you aren't sure how or if she has the ability to express it. You know there are days you get overwhelmed and upset and you can't think of another way to explain it other than “too much”. You can't expect a three year old to articulate it better than you can. 

She's got a sweet little smile and part of you fears if you bring up her previous upset, it will spiral right back into a meltdown. So, you watch instead - watch as she goes back to playing make pretend with her toys, seemingly unbothered. You sip at your tea, making up a list of questions for Matt when he returns from his errand. 

Minnie plays for about five minutes before she perks up, beaming up at you, “Mister Matt asks if you can open the door, please thank you."

Her statement throws you for a moment and you aren't sure how much you like the idea of her being able to tell you all these things. It scares you - her knowing things you don't and not knowing what she does know. 

Maybe it is one of the things you and Matt can talk about - then talk about it with your sweet Mouse. You are going to have to get used to it, either way.

You push yourself into standing and motion for Minnie to come along. She scrambles up and runs out of the room, delighted laughter following her.

You are still in your clothes from the night before and you wish you had taken a moment to check your hair or even brush your teeth. You try to tell yourself it is fine, but your anxiety just argues back, and you feel like a complete slob by the time you get to the front door.

Your stomach and heart both do a funny clench at the sight of Matt, who is still sporting his borrowed shirt. You don't know if you want to fall into his arms or throw up or go hide under your covers so you can pretend all of this is a dream. Instead, you step aside so he can come inside and silently beg your mind to stop collapsing in on itself. 

“Breakfast delivery,” Matt says as a greeting, his entire face lighting up with a smile. He's holding a bag from the shop around the corner in one hand and a drink carrier with two large drinks along with a small one in his other.

You can feel your face starting to heat up and force your eyes down to the ground, mumbling, “you didn't need to do that.” 

He shrugs as he toes off his shoes, “I wanted to, and someone,” his voice turns teasing as he directs his next comments to Minnie, “wouldn't stop talking about bagels.”

Your daughter erupts into giggles, then turns and runs back towards the kitchen. Matt gives a pleased laugh, and your stomach flips again. He follows Minnie, and after you relock the door, you join them. 

They are sitting at the dining table, Mouse watching with a big smile as bagels are laid out on the table. Matt narrates for both of you, “Three egg bagels with plain cream cheese, two large coffees, and one kid’s hot chocolate. Now, is that the right order or was someone taking advantage?”

Minnie giggles more and that relaxes your shoulders. “No, that's right. Thank you, you really didn't -” You cut yourself off as you realize the table is clear of any mess from the night before. There are no plates on the table or in the sink, there's no lasagna stains on the floor, there's no leftovers sitting out. Your eyes drift to Matt. 

He must have cleaned after you had fallen asleep. Guilt courses through you - he shouldn't have to be dealing with your messes, especially in your own living space. You are going to need to not only apologize but return the favor somehow. You aren't sure how you'll do that - no one has ever done this much for you before, and Matt has done so so much in such a short time. 

You're dragged from your thoughts as a coffee is placed in front of you. 

“It's just black, I didn't know how you took it,” the kind, handsome lawyer says, and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears. It beats harder when you remember that not only can he hear your body and mind freaking out, but so can your daughter. 

Your instinct tells you to panic at the idea of someone knowing that much about you. You always try to stay calm on the outside while having a meltdown, but that doesn't matter with him. He'll know you're a mess. You can't hide it. 

You hear Matt ask Minnie something about her tea party and watch as she skips away from the table, but it's like your mind doesn't process it. You feel completely frozen because you don't know how to act - you don't know how to hide yourself from the man in front of you. You don't know how to hide yourself away from your daughter. 

How can you protect her from yourself? Your own body?

Suddenly, Matt is in front of you, cupping your cheeks with his large, warm hands and whispering your name. He's practically right on top of you, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, “Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay. Everything is okay. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

“What?” You ask, so confused about what is going on. You don't understand why he's saying it's okay. 

“A deep breath, sweetheart. Can you take a deep breath?”

Your mind will not wrap the reason for the instruction, but you do as you are told. You inhale through your nose and that earns you a soft smile. He continues to pet you, gently instructing you to exhale after a moment and you obey. 

“Again?” He prompts and you nod. You feel shaky as you try to focus on breathing. You've always hated these exercises - they've never worked for you and have only served to frustrate you, and now you are just trying to make sure you are doing it right. How embarrassing would it be to fuck up breathing in front of Matt? 

“That's it,” he says so calmly, “Just breathe. I know it's a lot. I know. One step at a time. Let's have some breakfast, okay? Let's sit and have coffee and we can all talk. How's that sound?”

It sounds good, it sounds like the right thing to do, but your throat is clenching and not wanting to produce words, so you nod instead. 

You close your eyes to try to center yourself and somehow calm down. Matt lingers, keeping a hold of you until you hear Minnie coming back to the kitchen. It seems like he waits until the last possible moment before pulling away. 

Seeing your daughter looking so happy helps to reset your mind. She's fetched Scooby and Pig and runs up to the table to put them in their chair. You smile at the sight.

She really does seem like she's perfectly fine and maybe Matt is right and everything is okay. For now, at least. 

You force yourself into action, moving to set one of the bagels in front of Mouse, setting it on a napkin. You're going to need to transfer the hot chocolate into a mug or Mouse will spill on herself.

“Thank you, Mommy!”

She practically dives into her bagel, picking it up and taking a big bite and getting cream cheese on her cheeks. She is completely engrossed with her food.

“Thank Mister Matt, he got us breakfast,” you advise before going to get a napkin. While you are in the kitchen, you grab your creamer from the fridge.

“Thank you, Mister Matt!” she chimes before barreling on. “Mommy, did you know Mister Matt can braid hairs!”

Guilt courses through you and you remind yourself you need to thank Matt for everything he has done for you. But you tell yourself to not think of it right now - you are terrified of Minnie sensing your panic and that somehow shuts your mind down and you go into parent mode. 

“No, I didn't. Did you ask him to braid your hair?” You ask as you move in to wipe her face. She obediently tilts her face towards you and closes her eyes as you clean away the cream cheese. In the corner of your eye you see Matt sip from his coffee, a smile forming in his lips.

“She wanted puffs,” he advises, “I learned a lot of new hair terminology today. Minnie is a very good teacher.” 

Your daughter preens at the praise before taking another bite of her bagel. More cream cheese gets on her face. You decide to wait until she's done eating before tidying her up again. It will be pointless otherwise.

Instead, you start to fix your coffee, removing the lid to add creamer. You eye your daughter as you do, letting yourself finally take in her appearance. 

“You're a good stylist,” you tell Matt, and it is true. Her pigtails look even and as smooth as can be expected for a toddler. You don't see any tangles and if Minnie is happy, you have no grievances with the outcome - only guilt that Matt was the one who dealt with it. 

“I have some experience,” he hums, before taking another sip of his coffee. Then he directs his smile to his daughter, “my best friend used to have long hair. He has little nieces and they used to do his hair at Christmas, and I got roped into helping. I'm told I do a pretty good French braid.”

Mouse giggles before gasping and pointing at you, “do Mommy's hair!”

Embarrassment floods you - you don't think anyone has done your hair since you were Minnie’s age, and your current hair is a gross greasy mess and you don't want anyone touching it. 

Matt hums as he tilts his head towards you, “I think Mommy is better at doing her hair than I would be. But maybe next time?”

“Maybe next time,” you agree, hoping that will be enough to deter your daughter from this path. 

Luckily, she quickly parrots, “Next time!”

You offer her a smile and take a much needed drink of your coffee. It not only warms you but helps to ground you back into reality. 

You remind yourself nothing has actually changed - you are just more aware of the world. To Minnie, this is the same as any other day and you need to get yourself back on track. 

Which means you need to confirm some things with Matt. 

You set your coffee down, then pick up Minnie’s hot chocolate and bring it to the kitchen to transfer into one of her kid-friendly tumblers. You clear your throat, then dare to try, “Minnie said you'd be spending the day with us?”

“You told the froggy!” Mouse happily adds.

Matt looks confused for a few seconds before it must click, “Foggy, sweetheart, not Froggy. Foggy is my best friend - the one who had long hair.”

“Froggy!” Is the defiant response and you know better than to argue. Once something is named, the name sticks. But of course, Matt doesn't know this and you decide to let him learn.

“Foggy,” he tries. “Like a cloud. Not a frog.”

“Froggy!” 

“Fog. Foggy. No ‘r’.”

“Frog. Froggy! Froggy! Froggy!” Minnie bounces in her seat, starting to giggle. You return to the table, securing the lid to the sippy tumbler before placing it down.

“Ribbit ribbit,” you add and that gets you a delighted burst of laughter.

“Ribbit ribbit!”

Matt practically pouts but seems to realize he isn't going to win this. “But yes, I… told Foggy I wanted to spend the day with you. When I was in the phone, outside.” His dramatic sad face turns into something soft as he tilts his head towards Minnie, “Did you tell your Mommy you heard me?”

“I, uh, asked if she could,” you say, feeling silly for admitting it. But you know this is the path you need to take to start understanding what enhanced senses mean.

“I can hear everything,” your little one proudly says, and you've heard her say it before - but now you know she isn't just playing pretend.

“Yes, you can,” is Matt's soft reply. Unlike your underlying panic, his voice seems to carry a fondness about the whole situation. He is the one with the experience and you want to trust him with the lead on this, but it's still absolutely terrifying. 

But you know you need to set the ball up, so you gently push, “Did you know Mister Matt can also hear…everything?” You know it's not everything, at least by what Matt said, but you aren't going to get technical with a toddler. “Mommy can't, though. Mommy’s hearing isn't as good as yours and Mister Matt's.”

Mouse looks between the two of you, pursing her lips up as she thinks, then she reaches out and pats your arm comfortingly, “I'll tell you what I hears, Mommy.”

Your heart soars with so much love and you turn your hand so you can take hers and give it a gentle squeeze, “Thank you, baby.” 

“I can hears a bark-bark dog and a woofy dog,” she starts, “and there's a puppy going ‘yip-yip-yip!’”

Matt laughs a little and your focus is ripped away from Minnie and over to him. He absolutely beams at you, looking proud as can be. You wonder what this like for him - having someone else who can hear what he can.

“There's a doggy day care about two blocks north,” he informs, and it is so hard to wrap your mind around the fact your daughter can hear that far. “Clients are starting to arrive, and they are lively.”

There's a flash of brown and Minnie is waving Scooby at Matt, “Bark bark bark!”

“Is Scooby a barky dog?” He asks, leaning forward towards her and putting his elbows on the table. “Not a woofy dog?”

“Bark bark!” Is the response before Mouse makes him growl. You finally allow yourself to sit and watch the sweet interaction. Everything still feels like it's too much and swirling inside you, but seeing Matt and Minnie bond is soothing - even if it's over something you can't understand yet.

“What about Pig? Does he go bark-bark or woofy?” 

His question gets Minnie to gasp as if she's scandalized. “Pig isn't a doggy!”

“Oh, he isn't?” Matt teases, “I can't see him. What is he?”

“He's a piggy!” She snatches up Pig and clutches him to her chest beside Scooby. You hope she doesn't have cream cheese on her fingers because cleaning her toys is always an adventure. She hates when they have to get washed and now, you guess, you understand why. They probably smell different after being washed or the texture is off. It's something you'll have to explore later.

“What type of noises do piggies make?”

“Oink-oink-oink!”

“Oh, that makes sense,” he hums, then hunches forward more and lowers his voice, like he's talking in secret, “And what sounds do little girls named Minnie make?”

You finally get to take a bite of your bagel as you watch her contemplate the question. Her face screws up in thought before lighting up when she decides her answer.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo!” 

Matt throws his head back with laughter, which makes Minnie dissolve into happy giggles. The sheer joy between the two of them pulls a smile out of you and the heaviness in your chest starts to lighten more. 

“Ooogie-boogie-boo?” You question and your daughter giggles more. 

“Ooogie-boogie-boo! Like Scooby!”

You don't understand what that means but you just let the positivity continue. 

“What about Mommy? What sounds do I make?” You ask, curious what her response will be.

“Bumbum-bumbum.” They aren't words, but you instantly get it is supposed to be your heartbeat. You feel yourself start to flush. Matt had told you that Minnie listens to your heart to ground herself, so of course that is what she associates you with. But hearing it from her mouth and getting that confirmation still rocks you. 

“It's a good sound, isn't it?” Matt asks Minnie and you can imagine how red you are turning. You try to hide behind your coffee.

“The bestest,” Minnie agrees before adding, “After Scooby Song. Scooby Dooby Do! Where are you!”

“We've got some work to do now,” you half mumble, half sing with her.

“I've never heard the Scooby song,” the man beside you says and that triggers Mouse into action. She slides off her chair, and still clutching her toys, hurries across the room to the television. She knows how to bring up what she wants, so it only takes a few seconds before there is an episode starting to play on screen. 

She drops her toys and the remote before running back to Matt and tugging on his - technically yours - shirt. “You gotta listen!”

He barely gets to stand up before being pulled into the living room. He does not resist in the slightest to being directed to sit on the ground and you watch as Minnie begins to explain the intricate lore of her favorite show. To your wonder she describes each character by their voice first and you can tell Matt is completely enthralled by what he is being told. Scooby gets moved from laying on the floor to being shoved into Matt's lap so he can hold onto him. 

You realize without fanfare that you can barely hear the television. It is still on low volume from last time you had it on, and it dawns on you that you never really have it turned up too loud. Minnie can probably hear it just fine and doesn't need it blasting throughout the apartment. You never got to really watch television as a kid, and you wonder what the normal volume for watching things is supposed to be. 

You sip at your coffee, watching as Minnie plops herself next to Matt on the floor, going on excitedly about mysteries and different sounds. Both of them are smiling and laughing like they don't have a care in the world. 

This is what you want your life to be like, you decide. 

You want your family to be full of love and joy and you have fought so hard to get to this point. You've climbed your way out of a cold and distant household to make your own little corner in the world and right now you need to enjoy it instead of letting your mind be taken over by darkness and despair.

So, you set your coffee down and move to join your daughter and her father in front of the television, asking in a teasing voice, “So who is the blonde man again?”

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock

[another-lost-mc]

a/n: this was a request and it sounded really cute. I used to watch watch F1 races as a kid and thought it'd be such a fun job to have. but then I grew up and realized I hate driving lol

➤ when MC is a professional F1 driver | the demon brothers

2.6k words | sfw | fluff & slice of life shenanigans

cw: developing relationships with the demon brothers; some angst and insecurity if you squint.

related: the dateables + mephisto edition

Lucifer is your main obstacle when you decide you want a shot at racing in this realm. You argue it’s only fair if they expect you to give up your passion and livelihood for an entire year without warning. The world of Devildom racing is dangerous and he doesn’t want (or expect) a human like you to understand that. You try to show him videos of some of your races that you have on your old phone, but he’s still skeptical of your abilities. He takes you to the local track so you can prove what you’re capable of. (His brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos and the students from Purgatory Hall show up to watch as well.) By the end of the first lap, most of them are stunned with disbelief or excited for the possibilities of living with such a talented driver. Lucifer grudgingly concedes that he underestimated you. He arranges a personal vehicle for you to use during your stay in the exchange program. He also speaks to Diavolo about your interest in continuing your racing career. The young prince agrees once he’s confident you understand the risks. 

Lucifer is your advocate and advisor at first, but over time he gradually becomes your friend. He admires your determination to make a name for yourself. He attends each race in person and pretends he’s there on official business, but it’s his own way of supporting your efforts. He’s genuinely proud of you for making such a lasting impact in the Devildom in a short amount of time. He treats you to dinner after each race and it becomes a celebratory ritual you both look forward to. He starts to crave your company when the racing season comes to an end, and he scrambles for new reasons to spend time with you. He starts asking you out for dinner—just the two of you—for no apparent reason at all. He can't explain the profound happiness that blooms in his chest when you eagerly accept.

Mammon thinks this is a fantastic opportunity. At first he assumed you were just some cute human that liked cars. But now it turns out that you actually know how to race, too? The novelty of a human racing against in the Devildom’s most competitive league is sure to draw in a bigger crowd than usual. He never bothered with betting on the races before, but your introduction to the racing league shows him the untapped potential; he can't wait to make a fortune off this! Unfortunately for him, you hear through the grapevine that he bets against you before your first race. You're annoyed and drive more aggressively than usual because of it. You already feel like you have to prove yourself, and you’re already under enough pressure without him counting on you to fail. The race finishes and you rank in the top three—it takes the Devildom sporting world by surprise. Mammon lost a fair bit of money betting against you, but he’s not angry. He admits he underestimated you and it feels like you’ve earned his respect. (He learns from his mistakes and doesn’t bet against you again.)

He’s a lot friendlier after that. He's a good engineer and likes working with his hands. When your loaner car acts up, he offers to help you with it even though you both know you can handle it yourself. He keeps you company and watches you work on it in the garage Lucifer had built. Mammon pretends he's "supervising" your work so he still has a reason to hang around. Sometimes you let him do the work for you because he looks so happy when he does. He makes a show of rolling up his sleeves and flexing his muscles before he pops the hood and leans forward to take a look at things. It's ridiculous how attractive he is when he's sweaty and covered with dirt and engine grease. 

He doesn't let anyone else drive his precious car Demonio 666 Lexura except for you. When you finally agree to his invitation to take you out on a date, he hands you the keys so you can drive it for the first time. It’s nicer and a lot faster than the car Lucifer arranged for you to use. You can tell that Mammon puts a lot of pride and care into the upkeep of his vehicle, and you’re flattered he would trust you with it when no one else has that privilege. Mammon gets a little flustered in the passenger seat because watching you drive in your date night outfit turns him on. He’s tempted to slip his hand into your lap and test how good your concentration is.

Levi doesn’t have any interest in driving outside of video games. He’s shocked at how talented you are as a racer because you’re terrible at Devil Kart. He still invites you to play games with him and it surprises him that you would waste your time with him. He's not sure how to act around you sometimes. It should be easier to interact with you the more he gets to know you. Instead, he grows even more shy and anxious and flustered all at once and he doesn't know why.

The other students at RAD start to admire you and you develop a little bit of a fan following. He gets a little jealous that you seem to bask in all the attention, but you admit to him later that a lot of your public persona is just an act. You’re scared to be yourself in the public eye, and you hate the feeling of being judged for who you are. You show him rare glimpses of the real you that no one else sees, and he realizes he likes you. He wants to be your friend, but he wants to support you too. You don't have to pretend to be someone else when you're with him. He's not a fan of sports, but in his eyes, you slowly become as important as one of his beloved idols.

He hears rumors around RAD that some of the students want to start a fan club for you. It irritates him that he didn’t think of that first, but he sets up a fan site that gets a lot of traction. His username is different from the ones he uses on other sites so it’s harder to trace it back to him. He basically runs the largest Devildom site dedicated to you and your career and its his worst-kept secret. Another fan of yours designs cute logos based off your Devildom racing nickname, and it opens the floodgates to a huge line of fan-made merchandise. Levi orders one of everything, and he knows all of his brothers have bought some that merch too. He squirms in his seat when you mention how sweet the fan club president is. You drop subtle hints that you know it’s him, but he’s too nervous to admit it. One day you ask him out to see a new movie he’s interested in, and all he can do is nod and blush furiously when you call it a date. (He doesn't even realize he's wearing one of your fan club t-shirts until after you leave his room with a bounce in your step.)

Satan didn't have much of an interest in cars or racing before you arrived. Once you break into the Devildom racing scene, he takes it upon himself to learn more about it. (Watching awkwardly from the sidelines while Lucifer his brothers fawn over you has nothing to do with his sudden interest.) He picks up the basics of car maintenance easily enough, but his main focus is the politics behind the racing industry and how the teams function. He wants you to succeed and that means finding a manager that's dedicated and organized and has a keen eye for detail. He observes how the other teams operate and quickly identifies the weak spots in their leadership. He's certain that he can do so much better than them and he’s relieved when you agree to give him a chance. 

You spend a lot of evenings working together. You give him detailed breakdowns about your career in the human world and how things operated. He makes careful notes of the things you liked and didn't like, the people on your team that helped you and the ones you butted heads with. He knows some of his brothers are suitable for roles on your team, and he's extremely critical when he begins filling the other vacant positions. He goes to the track when you practice and you appreciate his company. He takes on most of the behind-the-scenes responsibility for you so you can focus on other things, like not crashing and staying alive. He has zero tolerance for demons that badmouth you when he's in earshot, and it takes all his self-control not to tear them to pieces. Don't they realize how hard you work? Sometimes he gets frustrated when he has to control his temper, but you pat his arm and hug him or kiss his cheek for his efforts. You remind him that you appreciate him sticking up for you like no one else does; the anger inside him deflates and is replaced with something even more potent.

Asmo can’t remember the last time he felt so inspired. Here you are, the most precious little human he’s ever laid eyes on, and you’re a professional racer? He's already planning a new fashion line that’ll capitalize on the hype of your budding career—he knows the trends of the Devildom and anticipates your success before anyone else does. Your first race generates so much excitement that he sets up a corporate Devilgram account for you too. The first wave of fans start following you within minutes of your surprising race debut. Asmo goes to the track and takes pictures of you talking to Satan and the others on your team about devil-knows-what. He manages to snap a particularly fetching photo of you leaning against your car. He knows you were just pointing out something in the car’s flimsy paint job, but it makes you look intriguing and formidable and a bit sexy, too. (You roll your eyes when you see the photo on Devilgram later, but his suggestive caption under the photo about the Devildom’s hottest new ride leaves you feeling flustered the rest of the day.)

Things move very quickly once the rest of the Devildom media catches up to Asmo’s insight into your popularity. All the magazines want to interview you, and even Mephistopheles requests an interview on behalf of the RAD newspaper club. The Devilgram account Asmo runs for you skyrockets in popularity with each photo he posts. Satan offers Asmo a role on your team as your official agent and social marketing strategist. He asks Satan for some other responsibilities too: he arranges your sponsorships and endorsements, and he designs your race attire and car wrap. He’s not sure anyone else in the Devildom can capture your talent or charming good looks the way he can.

You and Asmo have some very long, heated discussions about managing your celebrity status and your personal boundaries. You maintain veto power over any interviews or photo-ops you’re uncomfortable with. You also get final approval on any licensed fashion or merchandise. (The little fan club of yours has superior merch anyway and everyone knows it.) Asmo enjoys the challenge of designing your race suit too, and he’s so proud when he shows it to you. It incorporates comfort, style and function in a way that's flattering without being provocative. There are little symbols embroidered along the sleeve cuffs and he explains what they are when your brow furrows in confusion. “Oh! The thread is imbued with protective magic. The sigils will help protect you in case you get into an accident.” He mistakes the shocked look on your face for disappointment and backtracks quickly. “I promise, it’s not cheating! Demons are more durable so most of them don’t bother using these, but I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt—“ He stumbles a little when you wrap your arms around him and mumble thank-yous into his chest. He kisses the top of your head and hugs you back just as tightly while he murmurs about how special you are.

Both of the twins end up working in the pit as part of your crew.

Beel is an obvious candidate for that physically demanding job because of his speed and strength. He didn’t know much about racing before you came to the Devildom. Your passion and his brothers’ involvement is contagious and he can’t resist getting involved too. He learns about the mechanics of caring for cars and how important the pit stop crew is to your success. He bonds with his family because they're all supporting you in their own ways. Working with his hands helps distract him from his hunger and becomes an unexpected perk of the job. You’re considerate and still make sure he has access to snacks throughout the race if he wants them, though. He can’t be there for all of your races because of scheduling conflicts with his other club obligations, but that’s when he realizes how much he likes spending time with you. He’s flattered that you find time in your busy schedule to go to his games to cheer him on too. You agree to go with him for spontaneous lunch dates when you both have time off. He takes you to new restaurants and watching your reactions to the different types of food the Devildom offers. He worries that you don't eat enough when you're so busy, and he's much happier knowing that you're well-fed.

Belphie works in the pit but his responsibilities are a bit more abstract. He volunteers for that role because his twin is there. All he needs to do is help keep Beel’s hunger-related distractions to a minimum and stay out of the way while the other demons do their jobs. He has a nice little corner where he can watch the race if he wants, but he spends most of the time sleeping. He wakes up when he senses your car is pulling up. Each time you drive away, you wave in his direction like you know he wakes up just to see you for a few brief moments.

He doesn’t like it when your fans recognize you on the street. They ask you for autographs or selfies and it’s annoying. He’s proud of you, but he hates having to compete for your attention. He makes snarky comments about your fan club but he still buys your merch—the t-shirts are soft and nice for sleeping in. He drags you to the bed in the attic for naps because he senses how exhausted you are. He makes sure that you’re not sacrificing relaxation or sleep for the sake of your career. Sometimes you dream, but it's not the nightmares that bother you. You dream about returning to the human world and living a normal life without obligations to your fans and your manager and your sponsorships. You crave a life that's completely your own again. Those dreams disturb you the most because sometimes you wish you could go back to being that person before you started on this path. Belphie listens quietly when you share your feelings in a moment of sleepy vulnerability. He doesn't judge you or laugh at you. He understands why you’d want to give up a lucrative career when it leaves you feeling weary from self-doubt and regret. Maybe one day, sooner rather than later, he can help convince you that it's okay to retire and pursue a different dream instead.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader #obey me satan #satan x reader #obey me asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor #belphegor x reader #obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader

[inspired-by-the-music]

smile: rewritten

pairing: jaemin x reader featuring: jisung as the reader's brother; the other members of nct dream synopsis: before even meeting him, y/n decides that she hates her brother's friend. nobody yells at jisung and gets away with it! as she grows distant from her buzzkill boyfriend, y/n comes to realize that jaemin can't be that bad. nobody who makes people smile like does can be that bad. warning: reader's boyfriend is an awful jerk note: this is a rewrite of a fic that is about three years old. available on: tumblr, wattpad taglist: @niinjo

“I’m so proud of you, Jisung!” You cooed when you learned that your baby brother earned his first part-time job. 

Jisung mumbled, “Ah, cut it out.” He couldn’t fight his smile as he squirmed to escape your efforts to pinch his rosy cheeks. “I don’t act like this when you make the honor roll at your college!”

“That’s because my academic excellence has become expected, almost unimpressive,” you joked confidently. You almost choked on laughter when Jisung groaned at your mock arrogance. “But you—” you poked his arm— “you’ve always been a precious baby, so it’s weird to watch you step into the adult world.”

Long ago, Jisung accepted that he would always be a baby in your eyes. He didn’t waste his breath arguing that he was kind of, basically, technically an adult. He blinked at you and rested his head against the couch. “I don’t think about it like that. It’s just a job at the cafe, and I’m only doing it because my friends are.”

Spending time with Jisung was refreshing because his simple, youthful outlook challenged your habit of overanalyzing. That aspect of your relationship hadn’t changed since you enrolled in the local university. Jisung was still very much your baby brother. Yet, as he laid back and stretched his legs over your lap and his socked feet dangled off the arm of the couch, you realized that he was growing up. He was growing up, and he didn’t think anything about it. Meanwhile, you mourned every second of lost youth. To Jisung, the next steps in life were an exciting adventure with his friends.

What would it be like, you wondered enviously, to be like Jisung? 

You wouldn’t ask. Even if you did, Jisung wouldn’t have known how to answer. 

He playfully wiggled his toes into your ribs, and you laughed while swatting at his legs. A voice sounded through his headset. The words were unintelligible, but the tone was unmistakably annoyed. They prompted Jisung to sit upright, plant his feet on the carpeted floor, and unpause his video game. Although his gaze was fixed on the flashing screen, he covered only one ear with the headset. 

He heard you ask, “Who is that?”

“Jaemin,” Jisung whispered out of the side of his mouth and covered the microphone so his friend wouldn’t hear. 

Because he was playing with just one hand, Jisung caused his team to lose. The loss was evident from the crimson text— “YOU LOSE”—  filling the black screen, the slackjawed frown on Jisung’s face, and especially from the shrieks breaking through the headset. 

Jisung chanted, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” but the shrieks rang on. 

Your face flushed. “Still Jaemin?”

Jisung’s answer with a nod. He didn’t bother to push away the bangs that had fallen into his eyes. 

“What is he even saying?” You hissed. 

“Nothing really,” Jisung shrugged away from your question. 

You were overprotective of Jisung; you wouldn’t deny that. His willingness to defend his buddy despite his flaring temper fuelled your frustration. Maybe, you thought later, you shouldn’t have disliked that Jaemin kid without having met him.

Rolling your eyes, you demanded, “Tell him that it’s just a game. You can play again until you win.”

Jisung shook his head and calmly explained, “That’s the worst thing to say to a raging gamer, Y/N—”

“Are you talking to a girl?” Jaemin roared. “Is that why we lost the tournament? Because you’re flirting with a girl?”

Sensing that you were reaching to snatch the headset to rival Jaemin’s temper, Jisung stood tall on the couch so you couldn’t reach his head no matter how hard you stretched. He huffed at Jaemin, “I’m talking to my sister, not flirting, and I have to go!” He disconnected the headset and turned the game off before you could say anything to threaten his friendship with Jaemin. 

You slumped down on the cushion. “You must have made some really nice friends while I’ve been busy busting my butt at school.”

Jisung swore, “He is nice!” He stepped off the couch. Frowning as you rolled your eyes again, he grumbled, “There’s no point in talking when people are too angry to listen.” He sulked to his bedroom, embarrassed by his scoldings. 

As he walked away, you resolved to comfort him later after tensions died down. 

. . . 

Because you were determined to be a kind person, you surrounded yourself with people who didn’t boil your blood. So, to tolerate Jaemin, which was as close as you could get to liking him the way Jisung wanted, you had to maintain a safe distance. For the sake of peace, Jaemin had to remain a faceless name spoken into Jisung’s headset. You tried not to roll your eyes whenever you heard his name. 

Despite what anyone says, you didn’t walk into the cafe that night with the intention of meeting Jaemin. In fact, had you known that he was the friend Jisung followed into the workforce, you wouldn’t have agreed to pick your brother up after his shift. That was childish. Since you were already in town after your last class, it only made sense that you should be the one to wait for him in the parking lot. 

You were patient at first. Then, minutes passed, and you had to turn the car off to save gas. The almost-summer heat baked the car until you lost all self-control. Had you rushed into the air-conditioned cafe sooner, you might have missed Jaemin’slecture. Your temper wouldn’t have been pushed past its boiling point.

The clock hanging on the cafe wall warned that you had wasted an hour waiting on Jisung. He was still scrubbing tables.

You couldn’t have recognized Jaemin by his neatly combed hair or sparkling smile. You knew him by the frustrated tone he used to scold Jisung. Without looking up from the register, he complained, “You made too many stupid mistakes today, Jisung! I can forgive you for forgetting the day’s special once or twice. But you can’t forget every time you talk to a customer! If you can’t be bothered to memorize something so simple—”

“Ahem.” The boys gawked at you with wide eyes when you cleared your throat. 

“— you can always just look at this chalkboard,” Jaemin concluded softly pointing at an overheard sign that boasted: ‘Today’s Special: Green Tea Latte.’

Jaemin’s bug-eyed stare provoked you to quip, “Is that all you do—for fun and for work? Yell at Jisung?”

“Huh?” Jaemin’s jaw dropped in an innocent schoolboy expression that might have been adorable if he hadn’t already landed on your bad side. 

This was your biggest fault: you put too much weight into first impressions. You were quick to make up your mind about people; you were slow to reconsider. Of course, you could apologize after realizing that you had misjudged somebody. You even had a consistent record of forgiving inexcusable offenses against yourself. What you couldn’t forgive or forget were attacks against Jisung, and you had just witnessed Jaemin’s second strike. 

Jisung resumed wiping the table and acted as the mediator between your wrath and Jaemin’s confusion. He asked you, “What are you doing here?

You didn’t expect Jisung to raise his voice to defend himself from Jaemin’s scolding. He was passive in friendship, and he was subordinate to Jaemin in the workplace hierarchy. You were proud of your brother’s temperament. Proud and, in the cafe in the middle of the night, annoyed.

“Mom and Dad asked me to drive you home after your shift,” you answered. “Your shift was supposed to end over an hour ago.”

Jisung’s lips rounded into a tiny ‘o.’ He turned to Jaemin for confirmation of the time. 

Jaemin didn’t notice, though. He was quietly studying you with narrowed eyes. “You’re Jisung’s sister?”

“Yeah,” you nodded stiffly. “I’m the reason you lost your little video game tournament.”

Your words were intended as a blunt weapon, but Jaemin laughed. His smile was almost blinding as he swept his hair out of his face with slender coffee-stained fingers. “Oh yeah. Well, don’t sweat that. I forgive ya!”

Before you could explain that you weren’t apologizing, that neither you nor Jisung needed to beg for forgiveness, Jaemin winked. “As long as you go on a date with me!”

You imagined your reaction looked a lot like Jisung’s: hanging jaws and wide-eyed blinking. Objectively, it was flattering that someone as attractive as Jaemin—excluding his temper—would flirt with you even as a mindless pastime. Even if Jaemin hadn’t made two terrible first impressions, even if he wasn’t one of Jisung’s buddies, even if your pride would allow you to give in to his charms, one dreadful fact remained: 

“I have a boyfriend.”  

On cue, Jisung rolled his eyes. Grinding his teeth, he dropped his gaze on the table. 

“Oh.” Jaemin’s shoulders fell, but his smile barely faltered. His smile, you realized, wasn’t an expression of happiness. His lips were almost permanently set in a toothy grin, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

That must be inconvenient, you thought. Does he smile even when he’s sad? Or when he’s angry? 

When Jaemin looked up at Jisung, his eyes crinkled fondly. All traces of past frustration had vanished. “Goodnight, Jisung. I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

Slowing his movements to a near-complete stop, Jisung started, “But I’m not finished—”

Jaemin shot him a pointed look. As quickly as it had calmed, his temper flared. “Don’t keep your sister waiting. I’ll close up.”

As you opened your mouth to thank Jaemin, or apologize for your impatience, or to offer to help clean or at least quietly wait for them to finish, your phone rang. Your mother was calling probably to ask why you and Jisung weren’t home yet.

“Come on,” you urged Jisung gently after silencing your ringer. “We should go. Mom is worried.”

Jisung looked at Jaemin once more for permission. After Jaemin nodded, Jisung untied his apron and folded it on the counter. “Thanks. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

Had Jisung been less mature, he would have teased you for abandoning your decision to dislike Jaemin after your brief first meeting. Instead, he focused on returning your mother’s call to recount his day. At school, he aced one of his finals. On his first day at work, Jaemin taught him how to make all kinds of coffee and pastries while defending him from fussy customers. 

Silence fell over the car after Jisung ended the call. You drummed your thumbs on the steering wheel, anticipating that he must have saved some exciting story for your ears only, just as he always had. But no sound came from the passenger seat. 

Your heart sank. You couldn’t blame him for being mad or embarrassed by you. Not only had you treated him like a defenseless infant, as always; you were also rude to his friend.��

Yes, you had walked in on Jaemin lecturing Jisung. At least Jaemin had been considerate enough to wait until the cafe was empty to voice his criticisms. All day, while you were too busy at school to do it yourself, Jaemin acted as Jisung’s guardian and protector. And no, you hadn’t forgotten that Jaemin screamed at Jisung and made his face flush because of a stupid video game, but it was clear from watching their interactions and from hearing how proudly Jisung talked about him that they held no grudges. Who were you, then, to hold on to one on Jisung’s behalf? 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. An apologetic glance over at the passenger seat revealed that Jising had fallen fast asleep. His head rested against the window, and his mouth hung agape. Faint snores filled the silence. 

As you decided to let him sleep, Jisung jolted awake. His face almost crashed into the dashboard. 

“Alright there, partner?” You hummed like you used to in the days when you played Toy Story with him from dusk until dawn. 

“Yeah.” Jisung nodded groggily as he settled back and reclined his seat. “Did you say something while I was sleeping, partner?”

Again, you readied your apology, but you hesitated to deliver it. You sensed Jisung’s smile like gentle sun rays illuminating your skin. He wasn’t upset. He didn’t expect an apology. Yet, you felt you owed him one anyway. 

He asked, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. Although you were sorry, you didn’t have to express that with a long-winded speech he wouldn’t understand. You could express it instead through actions. You could express it through jokes. 

“I said Jaemin is a real cutie.” Without glancing away from the road, you winked. 

You expected Jisung to gag. Who wants to hear their sister call their friend cute? Surprisingly, he simply warned, “You have a boyfriend, remember?” Unsurprisingly, he choked around the word ‘boyfriend.’

“Why don’t you like him?” You asked. “My boyfriend, I mean?”

Had you looked over, you would have seen Jisung cross his arms and turn his gaze out the window. He asked, “Why do you like him?”

Jisung rarely disliked anyone. His disapproval of your boyfriend made you wary of the romance—if you could even call it a romance. After months of back and forth, he finally decided that you could call him your boyfriend. Because you spent so much time and energy chasing that ideal, the half-formed thought of being with him, you couldn’t let it go.

You should have been able to answer Jisung’s question. It was a dooming sign, your inability to name one reason why you liked your boyfriend. Rather than heeding the sign, however, you clutched the wool over your eyes and turned the radio on. 

. . . 

“Believe it or not, babe, I’d like to have one date that’s not about babysitting your little brother,” your boyfriend said through a mouthful of rice.

Rejection was an almost daily occurrence, but you reddened nonetheless. “First of all, my brother isn’t that young.” Yes, to you, Jisung was a precious baby, but you had to deny that to defend him from your boyfriend’s criticism. “Second of all, it’s not a date. I told Jisung I would take him and his friends to the arcade if he got good grades on all his exams. I’m inviting you because I thought it would be fun.”

That was a lie. You knew that your boyfriend wouldn’t have fun at the arcade. You invited him because that’s what a good girlfriend would do. Maybe you thought that acting like a better girlfriend would make him act like a better boyfriend. Maybe disappointment was worth the risk because it could be grave enough to sever the delicate relationship.

He had stopped listening, opting instead to scroll through his phone. “Whatever.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “Whatever.” 

Although you would be an hour early to class, you packed your bag and raced out of the cafeteria. Had you been thinking more clearly—had you been able to breathe comfortably enough to think around him at all—you would have tried again to break up with him. It wasn’t a mystery why Jisung hated him, you admitted as you dashed through the hallway. He treated everything you said like an inconvenience. He was only momentarily satisfied if your attention was solely fixed on them. You couldn’t share your attention with your friends or even your own brother.

Then, he could ignore you for days, leaving you to wonder what you had done to inflict the latest deafening silence. When you would swallow your dwindling pride to approach him, he would reject your advances because they weren’t intimate enough. They weren’t physical enough. They weren’t enough.

You were trapped in a cycle with no clear beginning or end. As you sat with your back pressed against the wall and your knees drawn up to your chest, you couldn’t ignore this fact: you were miserable. Rather than finding the strength to end the relationship, instead of embracing the uncertainty of freedom, you prayed that he would let you go. If he was so uninterested in you, why couldn’t he just walk away?

The answer was obvious. Nobody ever liked him before you did. By clinging to you, even if it meant breaking you, he could build an illusion of self-worth. By putting you down, making you beg for acknowledgment, he could stand over somebody. Because you walked into this situation by pining after somebody who never wanted you, you started to believe that you deserved to be unhappy. 

As students flooded out of the classroom and into the hall, you wiped at your eyes with ice-cold hands. You weren’t crying; you were trying to wipe the tired dark circles from your face. 

On their way out of a classroom, someone called your name.

It was Jaemin. Beaming, he waved both hands excitedly like he was greeting an old friend—like you hadn’t loathed him before meeting him.

The dread your boyfriend caused and the guilt of initially disliking Jaemin faded when Jaemin sat next to you. He slung his yellow backpack onto the floor. He stretched his arm along the back of the bench. When his fingers brushed against your shoulder, you raised your eyebrows. He said, “I gotta leave room for others!”

“Right.” You nodded dubiously. “What are you doing here, Jaemin?”

“Ouch, icy.” He winced, grinning. “Just give me a chance, and I’ll prove that I’m worthy of sitting with you!”

“I don’t doubt it.” He blushed at your honest attempt at flattery, and you continued, “But that’s not what I meant. Why are you doing here at my school?”

Jaemin shrugged. “It’s not just your school.”

Your eyes widened. “You go to school here?” He nodded. “Really? I could have sworn you went to school with Jisung.”

“Nope.” Jaemin popped the ‘p’ proudly. “I hope you didn’t reject me just because you thought I was too young!” You laughed, and he winked. “It’s okay if you did. I’ll give you another chance to date me.” 

You shook your head, almost in a futile attempt to convince yourself that Jaemin’s smile didn’t make your heart flutter.

“Just playing.” He dropped the arm resting behind your shoulders to act as a barrier between your bodies. “Jisung said you really have a boyfriend, so I probably shouldn’t flirt with you.” 

You blurted, “He probably wouldn’t mind.” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth, but you couldn’t pull them out of the air.

“Who?” Curious, Jaemin tilted his head. “Jisung or your boyfriend?” You didn’t answer, so he tried another question: “Would you mind?”

Eager to escape, you flinched off of the bench. “Sorry, Jaemin. I have to get to class.” 

As much as you loathed your boyfriend, as much as you were starting to like Jaemin, outright flirting wasn’t right. You didn’t need to add anything else to your list of things to overanalyze.

You couldn’t control what Jaemin did. He dove to reach your hand. He didn’t seem to care that you had a boyfriend. He probably didn’t have to care. The only heart he was responsible for was his own.

His touch was undeterred by your gasp. Because you didn’t yank your hand from his grasp, Jaemin smiled as he asked, “You’re going to the arcade with us this weekend, right?”

Touching somebody’s hand shouldn’t have been a big deal, but Jaemin’s touch took your breath away. “Oh, are you going too?” Jaemin nodded. He maintained eye contact, and your thoughts were clouded. “I’ll be there. Who do you think is paying for all the tokens and pizza?”

“Huh?” Surprised, Jaemin dropped your hand. You could breathe again. His eyes narrowed. “Not you. I’ll pay.”

You shook your head. “Jisung is my brother, and I promised to take him and his friends—”

“Do you know  how many people he invited?” When you shook your head, Jaemin counted on his hand, “Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, and me. Excluding me because I’m not letting you pay my way—and including Jisung, that’s five boys you’re promising to pay for. Five boys—” he wiggled his fingers menacingly—“who live on pizza and games.”

Forcing your arms through the straps of your backpack, you chuckled at his dramatic delivery. You asked, “If they’re so expensive, why are you so determined to pay for them yourself?”

He started, “Because—”

Your alarm sounded to signal that your class would start soon. “I have to go to class, Jaemin, so we’ll have to bicker about this later.”

As you dismissed the alarm, Jaemin yanked your phone away. “Here. I’ll give you my number.” His eyes twinkled when they met yours. A corner of his lips formed a half-smile as he clarified, “Just so we can discuss this payment business. Don’t get any funny ideas.”

. . . 

Although you promised Jisung that you wouldn’t waste the night by waiting for you boyfriend, you didn’t keep your word. You sat alone at a table in the food court and stared at the door for about half an hour after Jisung ran into the arcade with his friends. Were you hoping that your boyfriend would show up? Not really. You didn’t want to play skeeball with him or anything. You just wanted, needed, for somebody to break the silence. After you last left him in the cafeteria, he left your texts unanswered. There was no reason to think he had changed his mind about coming to the arcade. 

He’s not coming, you told yourself. Again, always, you were caught between relief and anxiety. Your sweaty palms clutched the edges of your seat. I’ll give him ten more minutes. After that, I’m having fun with or without him. 

But you knew it was impossible to have fun with him. That truth was more blatant when Jaemin plopped into the chair next to you. 

“I gave the children money to buy pizza,” he boasted in a raspy voice to emulate old age, “per our agreement.”

That was the compromise reached via texts: Jaemin would pay for food, and you would pay for arcade access. 

Jaemin’s sparkling smile dimmed as he noticed how you nervously eyed the door and your phone. “Are you expecting someone?” You hesitated to respond, and he warned, “The kids will be here any minute. If you tell me what’s bothering you, we can work through it while we still have some privacy.”

His earnest stare prompted you to blurt, “My boyfriend.” Noting Jaemin’s frown, you squirmed through your stresses. “I invited him— who knows why?— and he said that he wanted to have a date without my brother tagging along. So, obviously, I stormed off. And we haven’t talked in two days, which isn’t that long, but I don’t know what to say to fix things. And he isn’t even here, and—”

Jaemin blinked like Jisung always did when your worries bubbled out of your mouth, so you cut yourself off. Jaemin’s mouth fell open, and it stayed open as he struggled to form a response. 

“I’m sorry.” You said while shrinking in your seat. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

Aside from feeling guilty for dumping your feelings on someone, you hated yourself for spilling them all over Jaemin of all people. Jaemin, who always smiled and didn’t deserve to be burdened with your self-inflicted troubles. Jaemin, who flirted with you, and somehow liked you, and didn’t want to hear about your boyfriend. 

“I don’t think you have to apologize. To me or to him.” Jaemin’s smile slowly returned, and guilt eased its clutch around you. “No offense, but anyone who doesn’t want to hang out with you and Jisung is a loser. And I’m not just saying that because I like—”

Your soaring heart came crashing down when Haechan cheered, “We come bearing pizza!” The other boys followed behind him, each carrying two boxes of pizza. 

Renjun returned Jaemin’s debit card and the bows sat around the table. Jisung sat at your side and smiled brightly even as Jaemin glared.

“Do you think you got enough to eat?” Jaemin furrowed his brow. “Seriously, guys, ten pizzas are excessive! You can’t just take advantage of my generosity and—”

“Jaemin,” you interrupted calmly, fighting the urge to giggle with the other boys. “It’s okay. If it matters so much, I’ll pay you back.”

“What?” He gasped. “No, don’t! Besides, money isn’t the point!”

“Generosity!” Chenle cackled and flicked a piece of pepperoni at Jaemin; he dodged the attack. “You just bought us dinner to impress Jisung’s sister!”

The others, excluding Jisung, chorused, “Ooooh.” All, except the laughing Mark, partook in flinging pizza toppings at Jaemin. 

Burning a faint shade of pink from his neck up, Jaemin screeched, “Hey! Cut it out! I dressed nicely and—”

Jeno wiggled his eyebrows before sinking his teeth into a slice of cheese pizza. “Jaemin dressed nicely to impress Jisung’s sister!”

And the boys—minus Jisung, who sat quietly, cheeks stuffed full—again sang “Ooooh,” until you and Jaemin were both colored crimson. 

In what must have been an attempt to defend you from his friends’ teasing, Jisung swallowed his mouthful and chirped, “She has a name!”

Jisung’s attempt backfired. 

The boys sang, “Ooooh! Jaemin and Y/N, sitting in a tree. . .”

As you laughed out loud for the first time all night, Jaemin’s annoyance or embarrassment vanished. Grinning, he flew out of his seat, grabbed you by the hand, and pulled you toward the arcade. He said, “I hope you got all the pizza you wanted!”

Although you couldn’t care less about eating more pizza, you yelled over laughter and games, “You don’t think they’ll leave me any?”

Jaemin said, “Jisung might try to save you some, but it’ll get cold if one of the guys doesn’t steal it. You and I are gonna be here for a while.” He dropped your hand to point up at a shelf of plush prizes. “Which one do you want?”

The giant mint green llama instantly caught your eye. You fumbled with an answer because, “Jaemin, those cost, like, 5,000 tickets!”

He retrieved a neon green play card from his back pocket, twirled it between his fingers, and winked. “4,902 electronic tickets, baby! Pick your prize, and we’ll get the other 98 tickets!”

“How—why?” You stuttered, flustered by Jaemin’s unromantic use of the word ‘baby.’

“I come here a lot,” Jaemin shrugged, “and I already have a bunch of those plushes. It’s a little childish, but they always make me feel better when I’m feeling down.” 

Oh. So this was his response to your rambling about your boyfriend. He wouldn’t tell you to break up with him as your girlfriends did before moving on to the next topic of idle gossip. He wouldn’t sulk with you like Jisung. Jaemin would go out of his way to teach you to have fun. 

“Pick one!” Jaemin urged again, brushing his elbow against your ribs until you went weak with laughter. Before you could trip over your own feet, he secured you around the waist. His gaze followed where you pointed. “Ah, the llama. Cute. Let’s go!” He grabbed your hand and sped to the wall of skeeball machines because, he explained, that game was the quickest—and most fun!— way to earn tickets.   

“We don’t have to run everywhere,” you wheezed, doubling over. 

As he knelt to swipe his play card, Jaemin looked up and stole your little remaining breath with his smile. “Come on, breathlessness is part of the fun!” After watching you scramble to pull your card out of your pocket, Jaemin swiped his through your machine.

“Jaemin!” You swatted at him gently when he stood upright, and he spun away from the contact. “I’m supposed to pay for the games! That’s what we agreed on!”

Your scolding elicited a burst of laughter. Shaking his card at you, Jaemin defended himself. “The points are on my card.” You wrinkled your forehead, and he continued, “If you want that adorable llama, you gotta let me pay.”

Because he turned his attention to his game and started launching ball after ball into the center target, he didn’t see your small smile. You mirrored his posture as you started your game and said, “Under that cute exterior, you’re really quite cunning.”

Rather than fixating on the insult, Jaemin noticed the compliment. “Cute,” he mimicked your high pitch. “You think I’m cute?” He glanced at you and snorted as your ball sank into the gutter. “Oops! Am I too cute? Am I distracting you?”

Your blush was washed out by the blinking arcade lights. “You’re not distracting me because you’re cute.” You balanced the lie with a partial truth: “You’re distracting because you’re annoying.”

“Ouch,” He whistled. His game announced, ‘New High Score!’ and he celebrated by pumping a fist into the air. He turned to you and said, “Every time I think you’re starting to like me back just a little, you cut me right back down.”

Well aware of how flirtatiously Jaemin would interpret your words, you decided to say, ‘I do like you.’ The words were dancing on the tip of your tongue, but you swallowed them back when Jisung and his friends approached.

“Found ‘em!” Haechan declared like you had been playing hide-and-seek. 

This is a good thing, you told yourself as your game ended without all the fanfare Jaemin’s high score earned. I would have regretted confusing Jaemin’s feelings. Some true things are better left unsaid. 

“These kids are ruining the experience,” Jaemin grumbled. Shoving his hands into the pockets of light blue acid-washed jeans, he asked the boys, “What do you need now?”

“We just wanted to check in on our favorite budding romance.” Renjun’s jest received laughter from the other boys and a dramatic eyeroll from Jaemin. 

“Find your own romances and stop following us like a bunch of weirdos,” Jaemin suggested.

Jisung stepped up to your side. “Want these?” His hands cupped a rainbow assortment of hard candies. “I won them!” Your brother beamed at his accomplishment when you popped a candy into your mouth.

Stuffing a wrapper and a couple of pieces into your pockets, you smiled at him. “Thank you, Jisung!” The cherry-flavored jawbreaker muffled your voice. You nearly choked on your laughter when Jisung bent to let you pat his head. 

Chenle said, “Now that the adorable sibling bonding is out of the way, we’re gonna play laser tag. We know you two—” his eyes flickered from you to Jaemin—“would rather make out by the skeeball machines—”

You gasped, and Jisung shouted, “Hey!” He stomped to Chenle and towered over him. Jisung’s height alone would have been daunting if he didn’t have the face of a baby even when glowering. “Don’t say stuff like that! She’s my sister!” 

Chenle’s hands rose in mock surrender. “I’m not the one making out with—”

“Anyway—” Jeno intervened by stepping between Chenle and Jisung—“We’re gonna play laser tag if you wanna tag along!” Jeno laughed at his pun.

Jaemin shook his head, and his bangs fell into his eyes. “We’re not gonna play. Thanks for asking.”

“We’re not?” You wrinkled your forehead. 

You weren’t offended by Jaemin’s eagerness to speak on your behalf. You were just surprised that he didn’t run at the opportunity to explore the arcade with his friends. That was why he showed up, right? To spend time with Jisung. 

Chenle hummed, “Ooooh, trouble in paradise!” 

Jaemin ignored him. He explained through a nervous grin, “We can’t get tickets from playing laser tag. If we want that llama, we gotta stay focused!”

“What llama?” Mark asked. He received no answer.

Jisung’s eyes widened as he sucked on a piece of candy. “You’re not gonna pay tag?”

You didn’t withstand your brother’s disappointed stare because you wanted to win a silly stuffed animal. This was wrong. Now, you thought, you actually deserved your boyfriend’s disapproval. You enjoyed having Jaemin’s attention to yourself. 

That’s why you grinned and cheered, “We gotta win that llama!” You earned a high five from Jaemin.

Teasing you must have lost its appeal. Wordlessly nodding, the boys set off to play laser tag. Jisung lingered, still staring at you. Realizing that Jisung would otherwise be left behind, Renjun ushered him away, muttering, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Neither of you spoke for a few minutes after Jaemin started another round of skeeball.

The silence ended when Jaemin said, “You don’t have to look so guilty.” His voice, softer than usual, was almost lost amid booming sound effects, laughter, and screams of triumph and despair. “Jisung won’t stay hung up on us for long. He’s pretty adaptable.”

You couldn’t explain that the twisting in your gut had little to do with the look you put on Jisung’s face. You couldn’t explain that spending this time with Jaemin was inappropriate. Then, you would have to stop out of respect for your never-present boyfriend.  

And you didn’t want to stop. And you didn’t want to ruin the playful atmosphere. And you didn’t want to overwhelm Jaemin’s crush on you if it were as shallow as you imagined. 

We’re just having fun, you argued to the nagging voice in the back of your mind. 

The voice in your mind sounded a lot like the one booming in your ears, the voice of your boyfriend, the voice that stunned you stiff. 

Those defensive thoughts weren’t just thoughts. They were stuttered excuses you forced through trembling lips as he glared down at you. His fingers dug into your arms so roughly that it would have hurt if you weren’t embarrassed—numb. Numb except for the agonizing thundering of your heart. 

People were staring. People were listening to him scold you. “I wouldn’t have bothered coming to this stupid place if I’d known you were here to hook up with some stupid jerk you found at the claw machine.” 

He cut his eyes at Jaemin, and you with the realization that you were not trapped in a dream turned nightmare. He wouldn’t disappear with the opening of your eyes. Yet, you blinked once, twice, thrice, in the hope that he would. 

Jaemin was as stunned as you were. Dark maroon splotches formed on every visible inch of his skin. His chest rapidly rose and fell under his white t-shirt. His hands were clenched in tight fists pressed to his side. His jaw was forced shut, lips pressed into a thin line. 

“He is not a stupid jerk.” Emboldened by the instinct to stand up for Jaemin, you didn’t shrink under your boyfriend’s cold, piercing stare. “And we aren’t even hooking up!” You liked Jaemin, and that perversion of your relationship made your hair stand on end. “He’s my friend.”

“Your friend.” Your boyfriend’s laugh was hollow. Again, he was going to remind you that nobody was interested in you. Jabbing a finger at Jaemin without breaking your eye contact, he accused, “He is no more interested in ‘friendship’ with you than I am.”

At some point, you would have believed it. At some point, those words would have hurt you. But they had been spoken so often that they lost their sting. He had always been like this— cruel— even when you tried to will yourself oblivious. Until now, you forced yourself to say whatever might guarantee temporary peace. 

What was so different now? 

Maybe now that you realized there were people like Jaemin who would enjoy your company without the promise of anything in return, you couldn’t subject yourself to mistreatment. Maybe Jaemin’s smile broke through the darkness your boyfriend insisted encompassed the entire world. Maybe Jaemin’s smile exposed your relationship’s emptiness. Maybe you finally understood that there was nothing there worth saving with forced silence. 

“Let go of me.” You met your boyfriend’s eyes. Your voice wavered slightly because the words were unfamiliar in your mouth. “Go away. You don’t want anything to do with me, and I don’t want anything to do with you either. So just— just—”

The tears that pooled in his eyes were inauthentic. Although you recognized his deliberate attempt at manipulation, you couldn’t say the final word. You continued to tread that dangerous line between freedom and captivity, between apology and honesty, until he pushed you away.

You couldn’t even be relieved. He turned and towered over Jaemin, who was not intimidated by his size. Jaemin, who stood proudly when faced with the force that had been strangling you, extinguishing you for months. 

“Ease up, dude,” your boyfriend growled.“I’m not gonna hit you.”

Jaemin did not change his posture, and your boyfriend clicked his tongue in annoyance. You flinched at the sound, and Jaemin didn’t bat an eyelash. 

“Whatever,” your boyfriend spat. “You want her so badly?” Jaemin nodded, but your boyfriend didn’t notice. He turned to watch you crumble as he said, “Take her, then. I only went out with her because she begged me.”

You weren’t winded so much by what he said. You decided just moments ago that he could not determine your worth. But how could cruelty come so easily to anybody? How could he easily turn away from his latest attempt to break you when you could never work up the nerve to peacefully walk away from him? You couldn’t understand. 

You couldn’t quite process the public breakup until you noticed that the once bustling arcade had gone silent. There were a few scattered whispers—all about you. The breakup was not quite real until you felt the eyes of strangers prying into you. The humiliation didn’t quite dawn on you until you met Jaemin’s gaze—overwhelmed, frightened, saddened. 

Jaemin’s stare. That’s what drove you to seek solace on a bench under the moonlight sky. 

The unseasonably cool blowing breeze reminded you that you never deserved to hold Jaemin’s attention. What had he even seen in you that day you stormed into the cafe to retrieve Jisung? You had been sweaty, irritable, and dismissive of his friendship with Jisung and his inexplicable interest in you. You were undesirable in appearance and in deed; yet Jaemin could smile at you. You couldn’t understand. 

After that confrontation, he would never smile at you the same way. How weak must you have sounded, stuttering like a fool? How foolish must you have seemed for allowing someone so careless and cruel to stand close to your heart? 

Weak. Foolish. Undesirable. Unworthy. 

The words you thought of yourself were unfair and untrue, but you could not stop thinking them. In an effort to ignore the thoughts you couldn’t control, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. Gifsets were always guaranteed to brighten your mood. 

Your phone only sowed your mood, though. After dismissing a wall of texts from your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend—you read a text from your friend. She sent you a screenshot of your ex’s Instagram account. He posted a picture of himself kissing another girl with the caption: ‘Guess I don’t have to keep the love of my life secret anymore. Guess we were both seeing other people.’

The screen went black, and you slammed the phone down at your side. After publicly accusing you of cheating with Jaemin, your ex revealed the reason why he never wanted you, why he preferred to go days without talking, and why he never wanted to spend any time with you. There was somebody else. The problem was never you. The problem was always him. 

Somehow—deep down, or right at the surface—you had always known. Rather than feeling relieved or vindicated, you hated yourself for ignoring your parents and Jisung and the careful voice in your head that said, ‘let go, run.’ That careful voice started warning you long before you met Jaemin, long before you started falling for his smile slowly and then all at once. Why hadn’t you listened?

Footsteps slapped on the pavement from afar, and you sucked a breath in. Nobody could see you, not until you had worked through your storm of emotions. You tugged your legs, bare below your striped shorts, onto the bench and contorted to conceal yourself in the building’s shadow. 

Jaemin found you with little effort. He wasted no time in running to you and sitting beside you as closely as he had at school days ago. His eyes were different now. They were wide with concern, no longer sparkling with mischief. 

Unable to stand how he looked at you—like you were breaking—you crossed your arms over your knees and buried your face in the bend of your elbow. You begged, “Stop looking at me like that, Jaemin.”

Although he had done nothing wrong, Jaemin apologized. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened, and I’m sorry I caused it—”

“You didn’t cause it.” Your urge to console Jaemin overwhelmed your urge to hide. You lowered your feet onto the concret. To comfort him, you rested your arm on the back of the bench, just behind his shoulders. “That guy—he’s always been a big—”

You wouldn’t have known how to describe your ex-boyfriend if your phone hadn’t interrupted you with a sharp buzz. Jaemin grabbed your phone, and the screen lit up in his hand. 

Jaemin’s mouth fell open. “He—he had the nerve to scream at you in front of all those people when he’s been kissing—” Rage tightened around Jaemin’s vocal cords, and he shoved the phone back into the narrow space between your bodies. “I don’t get it. People like that—how do they get anyone to like them? And how can they just treat people—why do they— I—” He raked his fingers through his hair, drawing a deep ragged breath. 

Staring up at the moon and willing your voice to stay even, you mumbled, “I don’t get it either. I guess—you know—I read once that we accept the love we think we deserve.” 

Did you believe that line you found in a book? Is that why you could never break things off? Is that why you could never demand better for yourself?

Jaemin pulled his legs onto the bench and crossed them so he could face you fully. “Hey.” He reached for your hand. This time there was no playful grin when you didn’t flinch from his touch. Once you mirrored his posture to face him, he said, “You deserve better. A lot better. And by that, I don’t mean that you deserve me, even though I’d like—”

As if you weren’t leaning into his every word, Jaemin caught his tongue and stared down at his hand holding yours. 

When words failed, you returned his small act of affection by curling your fingers around his hand. “I really want to deserve you, Jaemin. Someday soon.” 

Had you given in to the desire to look at him, you would have seen his eyebrows knitting together as he said, “I don’t know what you mean. If it has anything to do with what that jerk said—”

“It doesn’t,” you said despite your failed efforts to silence his nagging voice in the corner of your mind. “You’re just so bright and beautiful, and I was quick to judge you for yelling at Jisung, and—”

He asked, “Wait, when did I—oh. Are you talking about when I got onto him that time after work?”

You nodded slowly, tracing over his knuckles. “And when you yelled at him over that video game.”

“You heard that?” At his feeble tone, you finally looked up at Jaemin. In the pale moonlight, his blush was a glowing pink. He scratched at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I’m sorry. I apologized to Jisung, too. I guess it’s not an excuse, but my temper isn’t all that great when I lose games. And that time after work—”

“I know you weren’t trying to bully him,” you said. “You were trying to help him improve. Now I know that you just like to nag—”

Jaemin huffed, “I do not nag!” You bit back laughter.

“— and I’m sorry that I misunderstood you. It’s not an excuse, but I’m protective of Jisung because he’s the most precious person in the world. I didn’t know that you knew that too. I’m sorry.” 

Jaemin blinked, unsure of what to do with your apologies. He said, “I like that you’re protective of Jisung. I like that when some big jerk is yelling at you, you think to defend me from his stupid insults. That’s who you are, and it’s nothing to apologize for—especially because I like you.”

He liked you. After all of that chaos, Jaemin still liked you. Such a small word— like— meant so much. You couldn’t remember the last time someone who wasn’t Jisung said it to you and meant it. You didn’t try to fight the smile tugging at your lips. 

If you were defined by your protectiveness of Jisung and Jaemin, then Jaemin was defined by buying pizza for his friends (and nagging about it), offering a hard-earned collection of 4,902 tickets to brighten your day with a cute stuffed animal, and holding your hand in the aftermath of utter humiliation. 

You couldn’t keep the fact to yourself, and you didn’t want to: “I like you too, Jaemin.” 

He looked at you. Silence hung in the air as you stood together on the edge of something new. Should you say something to define it? Would taking that dive dampen the chemistry that formed despite old oppressive labels? 

You didn’t agonize long before Jaemin leaped off the bench and extended his hand to you. “Come on,” he implored, wearing that broad smile that gave your heart wings to soar from its broken restraints. “We gotta go win that llama!”

You didn’t hesitate to take his hand. You didn’t hesitate to seize the moment with him, wherever it led.

. . . 

Had you expected there to be so many college-aged students sitting around and sipping down lattes and munching through muffins, you wouldn’t have rushed into the cafe from the chilly Autumn breeze. You would have held onto the sunshine yellow gift bag longer and sought Jaemin at school. You had been standing in line far too long to walk away without achieving your goal, so you stood in line until Jeno noticed you. 

From behind the register, he called your name. He motioned you to the front, deaf to the groan of customers who resented your special treatment. He yelled into the kitchen, “Jaemin, it’s time for your break!” Jeno shot you a soothing thumbs-up and returned to serving customers. 

“Huh?” Jaemin filled the doorway. His brow was furrowed and lips were pursed as he argued, “I’m not scheduled—” 

He gasped at the sight of you. He removed his chocolate-stained cream apron and rounded the counter. Combing his fingers through his hair, he said, “Jisung isn’t here, you know.” 

“I know.” You nodded. “I’m not here for Jisung.”

He asked, “Then why—”

Jaemin’s eyes fell on the gift bag, and he flashed his signature breath-taking smile. “Oh, I see!” He wagged a finger as he crossed the dark-tiled floor. He grabbed your hand and led you out into the golden afternoon. 

You sat together on the bench outside of the cafe. Hugging you to his side, he beamed, “You couldn’t resist seeing me on my birthday!”

You teased, “For once, your delusions are spot on.” You clutched the gift bag and glanced around at the browning treeline. “Is this our thing, Nana? Sitting on benches and holding hands?”

A blush colored his face whenever you called him by his nickname. His blush never failed to tickle your heart. “Yep,” he hummed and laced his fingers (warm) through yours (cold). “I’m not gonna have to let go when I open that present, am I?”

His free hand reached out for the gift, and you couldn’t cling to it any longer. Sucking in a breath, you watched as he yanked out the white tissue paper. You released the breath only when his eyes sparkled while he freed the pink plush llama from the bag. 

“Did you win this from the arcade?” Jaemin’s smile, already too big for this dull world, grew with the nod of your head. 

“I can’t take all the credit.” You giggled when Jaemin touched the llama’s muzzle to your face again and again in time with the puckering of his lips. “The idea was all mine, but Jisung helped me earn the tickets. Obviously, we’re not as good at games as you are—” Jaemin winked at the flattery—“so that’s why the prize isn’t as big as the one you won for me once upon a time.”

Jaemin didn’t seem to think less of the gift because of its size. “This is the best birthday!” he yelled into the cloudy autumn sky. He released your hand only so he could hug the llama to his chest. “Thank you so much!”

Your heart softened. “You’re welcome!” Looking into the bag, you added, “I think there’s a card too.” 

You didn’t think. You knew there was a card without having to look into the bag for the thousandth time that day. The card—more specifically, the note inside—was what made your nerves tremble. 

Although you wanted some relief from the pounding of your heart, you couldn’t keep your eyes from admiring Jaemin’s face as he laughed at the silly googly-eyed puppy on the card’s front. You couldn’t keep your gaze focused on the llama lying face up in his lap. You had to watch the lines deepen around his smile when his eyes darted up after studying your handwriting. 

“Ooooh,” Jaemin whistled at having caught you studying him. “You have a crush on me!”

You started, “I—” 

“And you can’t deny it!” He flipped the card, and you were faced with your curly pink lettering. Finally, too embarrassed, you looked away. He boasted, “Here it is in writing!”

Were Jaemin anyone else in the world, he would have been cruel. He cleared his throat and prepared to read your confession aloud. He pressed his cloud-soft palm to yours as he recited, “‘Nana, I never thought you would become my best friend’— after Jisung, I’m assuming— ‘And I never imagined that someone so bright and beautiful could exist in my life and steal my heart, but you have. You have, and I love you, and I’m ready to tell you.’”

Jaemin looked at you again, this time without any trace of playfulness. This time, he waited for you to catch your breath. 

He was good at waiting for you. He had been from the day you stomped into the cafe. He proved his patience over the last few months by giving you all the pleasures of friendship—all the joys of having an adorable boy to text at any hour, to laugh with too loudly at lunch, to sit with on two-person benches until seconds turned into minutes that turned into hours. He didn’t seem tired of waiting for your romance to start because, really, it had already started. 

But you were tired of waiting to call him yours. You admitted, “It’s not a crush, Jaemin. I’m in love with you.” 

He must not have been surprised. He didn’t gasp, his eyes didn’t widen, and he didn’t miss a beat before responding, “I really want to be your boyfriend. I don’t need the title to love you too, obviously, but I want it as soon as you’re ready. Please.” 

You had been ready for a while, but you forced yourself to wait for Jaemin. While Jaemin probably thought that you were testing his devotion, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Contrary to Jisung’s assumption (that you were waiting for certainty of your feelings), you did not once doubt the butterflies that had not stopped fluttering in your belly since you started cuddling with the mint-green llama to fall asleep. 

Maybe nobody else could understand that you were waiting for the wounds inflicted by your ex-boyfriend to heal. You never again wanted to bleed on Jaemin. You were waiting for the day that you could be as bright as the sun too. 

That day had finally come, so you wasted no time in promising, “Okay, Nana. I’m ready.” 

Jaemin didn’t as for any clarification or justification of your feelings. Maybe he was afraid that you would change your mind if you were asked to repeat yourself. Maybe he sensed your confidence. After pumping a celebratory fist in the air, he wore a victorious grin. You couldn’t resist capturing his smile in a long-awaited whisper of a kiss. 

BONUS SCENE:

“You’re almost as dangerous in the kitchen as Jisung is,” Jaemin fussed. He knocked you away from the oven by bumping your hips with his own. He made a spectacle of pulling canary yellow oven mitts over his hands. “These keep you from getting burned by 350° cookie sheets, silly!” 

You rolled your eyes at the reprimand while Jaemin pulled the chocolate chip cookies out of the oven and gingerly set them on the counter. “Yeah, yeah,” you huffed. You were accustomed to his eagerness to show you up anywhere and everywhere, especially in the kitchen, where years of experience at the cafe gave him a clear advantage. 

After turning the oven off and closing its door, Jaemin pointed and giggled at your pout. “Aw, don’t be sulky, baby!” He dropped the oven mitts into their drawer. Crossing the distance between you in two steps, he pressed his palms flat on the countertop at your sides. He lowered his face to be level with yours. “You’re kinda cute when you pout, though.” 

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as Jaemin’s breath ghosted your lips. It wasn’t fair that you were always the breathless one. Quickly, before he could act first, you stretched to brush your lips against his. 

His chocolate-flavored gasp was a short-lived reward. Always ready to adapt, always searching for a way to tease you, Jaemin was quick to turn your sweet, playful kiss into something that made your skin burn scarlet and your legs turn to jelly. 

“Ah!” Jisung screamed, and you pushed Jaemin away with all of your strength. Jisung never failed to slap a hand over his eyes after catching you deep in a kiss with Jaemin. His discoveries were growing in frequency, and his tolerance was wearing thin. He groaned, “No place is safe! Not the cafe— not even during work hours. Not the car when you two pick me up after school—” 

Jaemin suggested, “You could take the bus!” 

Jisung continued, “Not the arcade. Definitely not the movie theater after last time. Now, not the kitchen! Now, I can’t even walk around my own home without getting jumpscared!”

Because Jisung rarely raised his voice, you were stunned silent. Jaemin, meanwhile, encouraged him, “You can walk around. Maybe just knock on doors first.”

“There isn’t a door!” Jisung pressed his back against a wall and gestured to the empty archway connecting the living room to the kitchen. “And you’re missing the point!”

“What is the point?” You hoped to make Jisung the target of Jaemin’s teasing. When Jisung dropped the hand covering his eyes to gawk at you, you wrapped your arms around Jaemin’s waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I thought you wanted me to like Jaemin.” 

“Not like this!” Jisung’s whine struck a devilish spark in Jaemin’s eyes. Your mission was a success: Jaemin’s eyes fixed on your little brother. 

Frowning, Jaemin leaned into your embrace. “That’s not what you said when you gave me permission to ask her out!”

Jisung cried, “I thought she would reject you again!” 

When Jaemin gasped and pretended to faint in your arms, you laughed. You asked, “Well, Jisung, will any of my boyfriends meet your standards?”

“I don’t care that you’re dating.” Jisung tore his eyes away from Jaemin’s theatrics to root through the cabinets in search of a snack. The tips of his ears were blistered pink. “It’s just—the PDA—”

“Here.” Jaemin offered him a cookie. “It’s not PDA if we’re not in public.” 

“Not this time,” Jisung grumbled through his mouthful of sugar. He asked you, “When do you think you’ll get tired of kissing Jaemin? I need to know when I can start walking around with my eyes open again.” 

Jaemin climbed onto the granite countertop and poked out his bottom lip. “Yeah! When are you gonna get tired of me?”

There was only one way to answer. 

“Never, of course!” You cheered before pecking at Jaemin’s smiling lips.

“Shameless!” Jisung shrieked, running out of the kitchen with a handful of cookies. “Absolutely shameless!” 

You and Jaemin shared in the golden laughter that colored your every day together.

#jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin x reader #nct fic #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream fic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #jaemin drabbles #jaemin drabble #nct drabbles #nct drabble #jaemin imagines #nct imagines #nct imagine #jaemin scenarios #jaemin scenario #nct scenario #nct scenarios #kpop fic #kpop fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop drabbles #smile: rewritten

[mchlgayser]

↪ just the way you are, jude bellingham

𖤐 résumé: you came across jude's old interview about his ideal types in women that makes you self-cautious

𖤐 genre: angst, fluff ending

𖤐 warning: mentions of depressing thoughts || NOT COMFORTABLE DNI

𖤐 author's notes: this is my first time writing for him, dk how it would turns out but hopefully good skhsksj

Laying on the couch, your attention fixated on the television as the movie you played began commencing. You had a bag of chips in your hand as a snack and a can of soda on the coffee table in front of you.

Halfway through the movie, a notification on your phone started chiming repeatedly. You groaned in annoyance pausing on the movie and grabbing your phone swiping it open and checking the message. It was from your friend, she was texting about something in caps lock and a link from tiktok. You press on the link and it loads a video of your boyfriend's old interview. A fan had edited the video as Jude talking about his ideal types. You knew you are in no position to be upset right now, especially since this interview was held way before you were both in a relationship but you can't help but be self-cautious.

The ideal types he was talking about don't seem like you at all. At least not in your view, the girl he was talking about seems PERFECT! In any way possible, she was flawless but are you even anywhere near that? All of this suddenly make you rethink why would Jude ever be in a relationship with you. What is it that he sees in you that possibly makes him fall in love with you?

You were so in thought that you almost didn't notice the front door open and Jude entered the house 'Babe I'm home!' The phone is almost out of your grip out of surprise 'Oh hey babe...' He smiles dropping the duffel bag on the floor and going to hug you 'I missed you so much.' You managed to chuckle, bothered by his word 'Missed you too.' He noticed your quiet demeanor but didn't question it breaking the hug from you and giving you a chaste peck on the forehead 'Oh you were watching this movie? Why didn't you wait for me?' He pouts and once again making you chuckle 'We can watch it again if you want? I'm only half way through?' He hums 'You sure?' You nodded at him

He wanted to kiss you again but you pushed him off 'You should go and take a shower first' He was so taken aback by your behavior especially since you never like this 'Go, Jude...' He shrugs off the thought once again and went to take a shower after a long day of practicing

-

Jude had just finished showering, he come out of the room with a small towel draped over his shoulder 'Hey.' You smile at him and pet the seat next to you. It was silence for a minute or two and none of you exchange words with each other 'Should I play the movie?' You look at him with a confused face 'What? Oh...Yeah sure.' He grabs the controller and starts playing the movie.

Jude was getting comfortable on the couch watching you wasn't in your best mood, your eyes wasn't even on the television instead you were spacing out your eyes boring into the floor

He wanted to pet your back but you flinched suddenly getting up 'I need to use the toilet. Watch it first if you want' You went past him to the bathroom and lock the door

'Y/n?' He called for you, knocking on the door 'Are you sure you alright? Are you feeling sick? What's wrong?' He didn't get anything from and he continue to aggressively knock on the door 'Just leave me alone please!' You stammered breath turning shaky 'I'm not leaving until you open this door and tell me what's wrong'

You, yourself don't know what's wrong. What is it that is wrong with you that you acted like this 'Please open this door, please...' You took a deep breath slowly turning the doorknob

Your head was glued to the ground when Jude brought you to his arms, you sigh clutching onto his shirt 'Are you feeling okay? What's wrong?' Jude knew something was up, you usually won't act like this unless you are on your red days but your safe days had just ended a few days ago

He brought you to your shared bedroom and sat you down at the edge 'Come on, tell me.' You bit your lip, unsure whether this is a matter which you need to tell him or are you just being exaggerated '...I don't know...'

'What-' You cut him off 'I don't know Jude, I don't... I don't know why I even acted like this...I guess I'm just be unreasonable..'

He kneeled in between your leg forcing his eyes on you 'Just tell me, I want to know what upset you.'

'That's the problem. I'm not even upset, it's just... Before you got home, my friend sent me this video on tiktok...' You took another deep breath '..It's a video of your old interview and..you were talking about the kind of girl you wants as your girlfriend. I think I get a little- No I got insecure with myself and you know I'm just thinking what is it that I had in me that makes you stay here with me, taking care of me and stuff like do I deserve it? That's all. I guess I couldn't help but feel insecure about it.' You smile at him taking his hand in yours

'It's nothing.' He sighs bringing you to him and hugging your structure close to him 'What I want is simply someone who doesn't exist but who I need is here right here with me. I don't want you to become someone who I want but don't need. You are who I want and will always need. Let it be if I have to deal with hundreds, millions of your flaws. As long as you are you then I will forever be with you. You are beautiful in your way, your body may not be perfect to you but it is to me. You are perfect, flawless just the way you are. I adore you, cherish you, and love you so much for that.'

He places a gentle kiss on your knuckle caressing it after 'Now why don't we continue to watch the movie?'

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham exclusive #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #ynstories #y/n #oneshot #borrusia dortmund #england #football

[pray4saint]

hihi i'm here to pick that massive brain of yours 😼

can we have some headcanons (or anything really) of george having a crush on a popular streamer!reader and maybe all his friends tease him about it bc he's just so smitten and has negative rizz around them? (sorry if this is basic but I can't get the idea out of my mind)

smitten

masterlist & descrip. pg. 13+. popular streamer!reader. fluff. george pining after reader. bsf!larray bc i felt like it. use of 'y/n'. swearing.

a/n. this has been rotting in my inbox for almost 3 weeks soooo here we are lmaoo. started writing 8/26/23, finished writing 8/29/23. crazy right??

”heeyy guys– oh fuck.” those were the first words george ever heard you say.

george had heard your twitch handle – your username – float around twitter for awhile since you had another big project coming up. but the first time he saw you was in larray's newest youtube video. you'd opened the door to the room larray was pacing around in, talking into this phone's microphone, and you had two coffees in hand. ”heeyy guys– oh fuck.” the cut off was when one of the coffees spilled a little bit out of the lid and onto the floor. larray let his jaw fall slack, looking between the camera and the floor by the entrance. ”oh bitch how did that happen?”

”shut up.” you start, stepping over the spill to put the coffees down on his desk. ”do you have paper towels?” and then the video cut to him driving alone in his car, singing along to another song as he did almost ritualistically during these cuts.

it was that video that sent george down the rabbit hole. it started with your youtube channels, your main which was mostly your shortened streams and those very rare vlogs you did with friends. almost two hours had gone by when he realised just how long he'd been watching your videos and laughing every few minutes because you had said something funny, or you added to a joke someone else had started.

then there was your twitch, which had him travelling over to your twitter, and after reading like ten of your tweets, he followed you. after shaking his head and closing twitter, he found himself scrolling through your instagram. starting with the most recent, which he liked, that was safe enough, and he just kept going, at least until one of his roommates knocked on his door, and he accidentally liked a really old post. it was late and he didn't understand what could possibly be so important.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.

george didn't bother telling any of his friends about you as he didn't feel it was necessary. ping. that was weird. george could've sworn he'd silenced his phone. then again, this wasn't his stream and he could afford to check it right then.

twitter – 1 new notification @ yourusername followed you back!

his lips parted, a heavy exhale leaving him. it was weird, but he smiled at it. ”ooooh george, what's, or who's got you smilin' over there?” sapnap half-turned around in his chair, wiggling his eyebrows at his roommate. george's eyes snap up to his friend. ”uh, what?” sapnap just sort of laughs it off and goes back what he was doing prior.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆. ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ .⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆.

”hi george, i'm y/n.” you extended a hand out to the brit and after what felt like forever, he put his hand in yours and shook. ”hi.” was the only word he could manage out. as much as he wanted to make a good first impression, the only thing he could do when he looked at you was smile. it was something easily picked up by the rest of the group; sapnap, dream and larri. there were shared looks between the three, ones neither you or george saw.

you'd of course heard of the dream team, they were popular streamers, but you'd also heard about them from larri, who knew them a quite a bit better than the internet did.

larri was the first to speak up to get everyone back on track, to record the video. ”anyways so–”

god, george was a goner for you, and he didn't even really know you. at least not yet.

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

#saint's inbox !! #s.george #georgenotfound #gnf #georgenotfound x reader #gnf x reader #georgenotfound fluff #gnf fluff #dteam #dream team #mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt x reader fluff #mcyt fluff

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

An average day in Family Video:

"It's just so stupid, you know?"

Robin looks up from where she is rewinding the tapes and nods enthusiastically. "I know, right? I mean, seriously, why would you pay an extra fine if all you need to do is-"

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about that." He points to one of the two monitors in the shop.

"Just....movies? Like, I get that working here sucks, but -"

"No! I'm talking about the scene that comes before this one- or well, now the one before that."

"Ohhhh. You mean needles."

In that moment a customer comes in. Robin goes back to rewinding tapes and Steve goes back to frowning. As soon as the customer is gone (thankfully an older lady who was not interested in starting small-talk) the conversation resumes as if she'd never been there.

"We really should be able to put other things to watch. It's not normal to know a movie by heart that isn't even good. I hate capitalism, it's destroying genuine art."

"Like back in the good old days when everything was black and white and mute?"

"Tell me one contemporary actor that comes even close to Charlin Chaplin."

"Dunno. Like, Harrison Ford?"

"Wow. I can't believe you are literally my soulmate. I'm so embarrassed."

Another pause. Robin motions to the growing pile of tapes in front of her and Steve starts putting them back in the shelves.

"It's just so stupid, you know? Like, I can deal with literal flesh-eating monsters from another dimension. I can deal with almost getting beaten to death more than once. I can deal with the constant stress of being responsible for a bunch of teenagers who put their "thirst for knowledge" before their own safety. And a fucking little needle gets me down?!"

"Steve. It was a traumatic-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, I know. I just don't...get it. Like, the flickering lights make sense. But I don't even remember being drugged up because, oh yeah, I was literally high as a kite. It's such fucking bullshit."

"One of the pros of being gay, I guess. I don't need to worry about donating blood."

They fall silent again. The conversation isn't over, they just need to find the right thread to continue. Talk between them rises and ebbs as naturally as breathing.

"Maybe I should just become gay, too."

"Oh my god you can't just choose to be gay you dingus. It's not like someone is gonna put a barrel against this hollow head of yours and force you to donate"

"I mean, it's not like men are unattractive. If, I don't know, Jonathan offered. I wouldn't say no. Like, I'm not gonna lie, when he got all mad back when I was still with Nance-"

"Deflection or over?"

Steve sighs. "Deflection."

"Resume or later?"

He sighs again. "I don't know. I mean it's not like we can do anything about it."

"Exposure therapy is a thing, you know. If it really bothers you."

"Like a tattoo or something?"

They are silent again. Robin rewinds tapes, Steve cleans the already spotless counter.

"What would we even get?"

"Dunno. Would have to be something discreet to not make job hunting even harder when this one inevitably falls through because of Demogorgons or Mind Flayers or some shit." She doesn't look up but Steve knows she is listening.

"You actually know the names?"

"Don't tell the dipshits."

Another customer comes in. This one is unfortunately a chatty one. Steve's behavior could perhaps be most accurately described as "bitchy". In his defence, he was in the middle of a conversation here.

"Okay, but a discreet tattoo. Like what. A tramp stamp or something?" Robin continues as soon as the door falls shut again.

"N- you know what. Why not?"

"Because it's a fucking tramp stamp Steve"

"What, are you saying I don't get around enough to be considered a tramp? I'll let you know-"

"No, Steve, believe me, I know. But if you get a tramp stamp, I also need to get a tramp stamp."

"Is that a no?"

A pause. Steve knows he won before she even opens her mouth

"You know what? Fuck it. Let's get fucking matching tramp stamps"

(more)

#my steve always has a tramp stamp <3 #an average day in family video #this turning into a stobin blog first and steddie second lol #tried to capture how in synch and comfortable they are with each other idk #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin friendship #stobin #platonic stobin #platonic with a capital p #platonic soulmates #stranger things drabble #stobin drabble

[jinx-blackout-84]

Been trying to put a finger on why the Dream situation pisses me off and I think I figured it out.

I spent nights staring at my ceiling listening to change my clothes and dreaming about a future that I'm scared I'll never get to have. I watched every single one of his videos, read the fanfiction, sang the songs, knew the memes and jokes, couldn't look at a kettle or fork or the goddamn color green without thinking about him. And yeah, maybe it was weird, but I was TWELVE and he was the first person I had ever seen in media that was like me. That couldn't sit still, that talked weird, that just didn't quite fit in. I had a community when I was watching tiktoks about him and reading countless Tumblr posts about the dsmp lore.

It was covid and I was a kid and I was lonely and I needed so badly to have a place where I didn't have to watch the walls in my room seemed to get closer every moment.

I started having panic attacks when I went out in public, the people I was friends with started to realize I wasn't normal, that full body twitches and flappy hands weren't the typical reaction to a good song or too-bright lights. I was so lonely.

And then I found Dream's videos. And they helped me have a place where I wasn't alone in my room, feeling like a crazy person for my tics and my gender.

I cared so fucking much about this guy, trusted him with that naive trust that kids have that people are telling the truth, and then he turned out to be taking advantage of that in his fans.

It really fucking sucked to find out that my idol wasn't a good person.

And I had him on a pedestal, I thought he was perfect, I would have taken a bullet for him, alright? I cared so much because he was the only person I had ever seen who was like me.

It wasn't normal. It wasn't just me being a normal fan. I was a stan, was a parasocial fan, whatever you want to call it.

Burt he didn't do anything to stop thousands of kids just like me from being parasocial, in fact he encouraged it.

It just bothers me to think that the entire time he was telling us he cared, 12 year old me was just another viewer. Not because I was just another viewer, but because he lied to me and told me I wasn't. I am fine with just being a fan, but being told that I'm important and significant by someone who has no way of caring about me really sucked. It sucked because it really felt like he cared, but I was always just another view, another like, another subscriber, commenter, buyer. Just another consumer.

I was emotionally dependent on him and he did nothing to discourage that behavior from thousands of fans and it's disgusting because now he's taking advantage of those same fans, using them for money, flirting with MINORS that have been conditioned to care about him.

And now a huge portion of my childhood, a huge portion of the happiness I got from being part of his community, feels so gross and tainted and I will never get to have that again. I will never get to have back those days where I could watch his videos and listen to his songs.

And I fucking loved the songs.

I loved the music, music has always been a huge deal for me, and I loved it.

Now every time I hear those stupid songs I'm taken back to when I was twelve, picturing high school and thinking about my friends and all of the things twelve year olds care about. And I miss it, and I miss the stupid songs, because I can't hear them the same anymore and they should be special to me. They should be honey-dipped nostalgia and now they are gross and unsettling.

It fucking sucks to see him parade around and talk about how he deserve sympathy because he is autistic, however true that may be, because I am autistic, and it's not fun. It's not just being a little too blunt or developing a little slower. Those may be symptoms, but that's not what autism is. It's sobbing in the middle of the lunch hall as a year 8 because you have the wrong number or apple slices in your lunch. Autism isn't some excuse for behaving like a manchild, is is something that has fucked up so much for my life. And he uses it for sympathy points.

It sucks because I related so much to him and now that I know who he really is, I am left to wonder if I will be like him one day.

It took a big part of my childhood that I should be able to look back on with fondness and sort of ruined the memories.

It sucks because part of me will always care so goddamn much even if he's fucking terrible. Even if I would avoid him if I saw him in public. Even if i have him blocked on all social media. Even if i threw away every fanart i drew of him and the dream hoodie i bought with my own money. Part of me wishes he would redeem himself so I could love his songs again. Even if I really wish he would just lose his platform right now and never fucking speak again, I miss my childhood so damn much.

Kinda fucked me up to have something I cared so much about sort of destroyed in front of me just because a man that I thought could do no wrong was a shitty person.

Anyways, I hope he burns.

#jinx screams into the void #Dream neg #dream situation #Vent tw

[moonlight-wolfy]

Sharing is caring | smut (original by: atzsslut)

important original author’s note : if any of you came from my old blog (well same user, but i accidentally, stupidly deleted everything), you would know that this was my most popular fic. now, i’ve re-written it and made it much better than before. i hope you’ll all like this! :) i’m also changing up my templates a bit :0

important rewriter author’s note : I am just a person that wants to make some female reader stories onto male reader stories, the original author is @atzsslut and I am not trying to steal his/her work in any moment.

pairing : (gamer)boyfriend!san x male/amab reader (reader is specified to be jongho’s age) ft. the rest of the members

smut : MALE READER, daddy kink, humiliation (but you’re a masochist so you like it), penetrative sex, san’s PACKING, dom/sub dynamics, consensual exhibitionism (through video call), sex on a gamer chair, heavy degradation, edging, multiple orgasms, biting, spit/cum play, creampie, manhandling, use of hitachi ‘magic wand’ vibrator, PURE FILTH.

summary : you two were freaky enough as is, but add to that by having sex on san’s gaming chair and having all seven of his friends watch him pound your hole. ♡ 5.43k words

smut under the cut, minors do not interact

Cold. You felt cold, all except for your backside. Pressed against your boyfriend, his thighs spreading yours open, warm in his tight embrace. Your hands were clutching the arms of his gaming chair, the constant cool air of the room making your legs shiver, and what was in between feeling sensitive, seeing that you wore nothing else under your short pants.

"Darling, it's a little rude to not greet our guests, right?" San purred into your ear, both of his hands playing with the ends of your terribly short pants, threatening to expose what was underneath. 

His lips hit the shell if your ear, the tip of his tongue licking your soft skin to tease your already timid nature.

"I'm sorry." you quickly apologized, your wavering eyes trying to look confidently towards the monitor. But, you couldn't help but stare at his keyboard and repeatedly blink as you spoke, "Hi."

You weren't usually this shy in front of San's best friends, primarily since you've known some of them for years, but any boy in your position, literally and figuratively, would feel exactly how you felt.

The fact you were wearing a tight-fitted shirt, a short pants that San loved fucking you in, no underwear to be seen, and were sprawled out on San's lap—you had every right to feel sinfully aroused.

"Good boy," he responded with confidence laced into his voice, now one of his hands caressing up and down your bare thigh like he was petting you, "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"No," you said quietly again, biting your bottom lip in nervousness. God, you wanted this, you agreed to this, but you couldn't help but feel timid during the actual occasion.

"Chin up, sweetheart. Let the boys see your pretty face."

"I—I can't." you admitted. San knew, and you knew he knew, that you were overwhelmed in the best way possible. You were visibly hot and bothered, and he could swear that you were already beginning to leak on his pants.

"Yes, you can. Come on, sweetie. They're all so, so eager to see how you look right now." his hand now tightened around your thigh as if to tell you 'don't be a brat,' and you understood well enough to obey.

Again, and with no answer this time, you didn't do as told. However, it was much too early for you to get punished, right? San would let this one slide, right? Wrong.

Suddenly, you felt a hand grip your jaw, forcing you to look up to the screen. Your eyes widened, your breath stopped, cheeks slightly squished by your boyfriend's fingers as you made eye contact with every one of the boys. And every one of them had a shit-eating smirk on their faces as they looked at you.

"God, baby." San spoke in faux disappointment, "You were being such a good boy today, and now when it's the main event, you choose to be a brat? Are you asking to get punished?"

"No!" you interjected, turning your head just enough to look San in the eyes.

"No, what?" he raised both his eyebrows, taunting you through the strands of hair covering a bit of his face.

"No, daddy." you added, not believing yourself for forgetting to say that.

"Awe," San pouted his lips and furrowed his eyebrows to mock you, now grazing your cheek with the same fingers that gripped it just seconds ago, "So cute of you to assume that you decide when you get punished."

You breathed in, looking back at the screen with the push of his hand. You could somewhat see the appearance being shot by the webcam at the bottom left of the screen, showing both you and San clearly on display. You could see and feel how San was beginning to slightly touch your core, inching closer with every move, exposing more of you to the other seven men.

Soon enough, they would all be able to see how wet you were getting without forgetting you also were super hard.

"Who's idea was it to have the Hitachi on-hand again?" San spoke, talking to his friends this time.

"Mine." Wooyoung replied, slightly raising his hand with pride as he pursed his lips in a smile. You weren't surprised by the slightest that it was his idea, knowing damn well from San that a lot of the sex advice he got was from Wooyoung.

"Thank you, Wooyoung." San started, "Now, because you thought of it, why don't you speak to my baby and tell her about what kind of punishment she'll be getting."

"I would love to." the grin still on his face. You could hear him roll forward with the chair he was sitting on, now laying his chin on one of his hands as he spoke to you, "Hi Y/N."

"H—hi." you greeted back, learning that it was better for you to speak than not speak at all.

"You look very, very handsome tonight, cutie." Wooyoung complimented, liking the doe-eyed look on your face, "Can I ask you something first before I tell you your punishment?"

"Sure." you nodded.

"Are you actually looking forward to having us watch you get fucked by Sannie?"

His question left you somewhat surprised, seeing that you had agreed to do this months ago and multiple times since then, to assure that everything was consensual. But it seemed that now it was actually happening; they all, including San, wanted to make sure that you enjoyed this.

In a way, it was a sweet gesture hidden in desire.

"Yes," you answered with only one word first. But before Wooyoung could speak again, you took in their consideration and realized you needed to be more vocal, "Yes. Very much so. I like this."

Your answer seemed to please them all, the atmosphere going from still to much more relaxed, much more sexual than before.

"I'm glad." Wooyoung paused before visibly checking you out once again, maybe for his own measures, "So, first, grab the Hitachi from the table before I give you any other commands."

"O—okay." you confirmed that you heard him, San also helping you lean forward to grab the vibrator from the table. "And then?"

"Patience, Y/N." his comment made you feel a little sheepish, having shown how eager you were. "Can I have San spread your legs a little wider so that we can see everything?"

You were, again, taken aback by the question but appreciated that he asked regardless. You nodded and said 'yes' once again, allowing yourself to melt more into San's body. Your hand gripped the Hitachi wand to not drop it, as your boyfriend adjusted his legs to spread yours more since he was under you.

Because of the movement, you were now on full display. Your aching tight hole and hard cock were now visible to the rest of the guys. There was no room for you to be shy anymore, not like before. The guys also felt the vulnerability you were experiencing, seeing that they were about to watch their friend's boyfriend get fucked.

"My, my~" another voice was now speaking, which you could easily recognize as Seonghwa's. "San was right. You look exceptional when you're turned on."

"Sannie.." you whined, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked back at him. You felt like punching him in the face for talking about you that way, but you couldn't necessarily deny that you found it hot. 

However, the punching agenda was still considered when he smiled and said a meaningless 'oops, sorry.'

"He's not wrong, Y/N." Wooyoung said, "Now since you still need to get punished, set the wand on high."

"High?" you asked, not sure if you were hearing him right. The night had just started, and he immediately already wanted you to use the vibrator on high?

"Yes, place it against your pecs first. They seem a little neglected, don't you think?" Wooyoung cocked his head to the side, making himself seem like the usual playful person you normally knew.

You expected that he would've made San do it for you, but having you do it to yourself while you're propped on your boyfriend like a display piece for a public audience felt humiliating. 

Then again, this was supposed to be your punishment. And a little humiliation never scared you off. 

With your dominant hand, you pressed it first against your clothed, right nipple. Your body reacted with a slight jolt, shaken by the sudden contact with the sex toy. 

Undeniably so, the buds on your pecs were already rather hardened because of how fitting the shirt was and the cold air, but having the vibrator touch you was a much more pleasurable sensation.

"A—ah~” you let out a small moan, but it was loud enough for the guys to catch.

"Move on to the other." you heard Yunho speak this time. You did as told and tried to subside your reaction following his words. Of course, it failed since they all could tell from your shut eyes and quivering figure that you were enjoying this.

"Good, you're already turning into the obedient slut I usually know." San commented, stimulating you further by kneading your pecs with both his hands.

"Now that you know what to expect," Wooyoung continued on, "Put it on your dick and keep it there until we tell you to stop."

This time, you used both hands to clutch the toy, inching it closer to your hard dick that was tingling with excitement. The buzzing sound of the vibrator was intimidating, but that wasn't what you were afraid of. What they would decide for you to do with it was what scared you.

The second the silicone hit your dick, you clenched around nothing and threw your head back against San's shoulder. An evident wail spilled past your lips, the pleasure of the vibrations immediately affecting your physical being.

"Feels good, baby?" San asked, knowing the obvious answer while still playing with your nipples..

"Yes—shit." you swore, pressing the head of the wand more onto your cock’s head. Usually, you would start with the lowest setting and gradually move to the highest to peak your orgasm, but having it immediately on high was a new feeling you had never experienced before.

Even San never set it instantly on high when he controlled it. Perhaps your boyfriend’s deviant cruelty wasn’t the worst, compared to what his friends seemed to have up their sleeves. 

"You look so hot, Y/N." you could hear Jongho say this time, the one person you knew the longest out of the eight guys.

And for some reason, that made an evidently loud whimper come out of your throat, kneading and giving more friction between your cock and the vibrator.

Really, Jongho was the one to thank for your relationship. If he hadn't called San to pick him up that night, you wouldn't have met him. Perhaps sooner or later, since you were a good friend to Jongho. Though sooner was better than later.

You couldn't forget the look in San's eyes when he held out his hand for you to shake, the attractive beam that was his smile you adored, Jongho introducing him as 'Choi San,' his favorite (and only) Hyung from Namhae.

Frankly, you were stunned when San told you that Jongho was up for his crazy idea to have his friends watch him fuck you. 

Unbeknownst to you, the reason why San wanted to do this wasn't that he tried to feed some fantasy he'd always had, but it was because of his bruised pride when his friends claimed that you seemed too “vanilla” to be able to follow his proclaimed, outwardly “kinky” self.

You weren't exactly "innocent" either, but you seemed like a saint compared to San and his sexual history. It was laughable, really, but not when you're already spilling sexual arousal all over your boyfriend's clothed crotch from the pleasure of the vibrator.

"You're such a fucking whore, already dripping onto daddy from just a few minutes of having your pretty dick pleased." San taunted, now moving on from your breasts to hold open your faltering legs.

"I—It feels good." you conceded, "Feels really, really good daddy.” 

"Glad to hear it, baby." Wooyoung cockily articulated, "You'll have to say when you're close, okay?"

"Okay." slightly breathless from the moans you had been letting out.

San could feel your back arching off his upper body, your nostrils letting out loud sighs from trying to reduce the volume of your laments, your hair slightly tickling his skin that wasn't covered by his shirt.

Your boyfriend always found you beautiful, whether when you were washing dishes with him and your hair was pinned up while your hands were covered with the thick pink rubber gloves.

But when you were under him in missionary, or even on top of him riding his cock, the expression you had contorted by bliss was his absolute favorite. He didn't care if your mascara smeared or if your hair clung to your forehead—he actually found it to make you look more beautiful as he fucked you raw, stretching your hole every time.

San was snapped back to reality from being mesmerized by your simple being when you stuttered out in the tone of voice he recognized all too well, "I'm close!"

"You wanna cum, angel?" Wooyoung asked, enjoying how you were writhing, and San had to physically keep you in place.

"Yes, yes, yes. Please~" you begged, the constant high setting making you lose your mind.

It was as if you could feel every nerve in your body reacting to the toy, making your mind feel hazy from the sensations. You let out a squeal when San put one of his hands atop yours, pushing the Hitachi further onto the tip of your cock, making you gasp aloud. 

You could feel your dick leaking a lot of pre cum continuing to release your wet arousal, surely leaving a small stan on San’s crotch by now. A part of you felt embarrassed—humiliated from the way your body was subconsciously reacting, but that was the exact point of this punishment. 

"Good..." he trailed, "Then, stop."

"Wha—what?" you asked, feeling genuinely high from the rapture. 

"Stop." he repeated, now more stern than the first time. "Lift the wand off your dick, turn it off, and set it down."

“Come on, sweetheart. Do as you're told.” San tutted, despite pulling the vibrator out of your hands and turning it off, setting it back down on the table where it was before. Like he was ridiculing you. 

You gulped, feeling more prone to the air conditioning’s breeze seeing that you were much more wet than before. Your now gleaming hole was presented to the screen, your quivering eyes able to see its shine through the self-view because of the light reflecting off the drenching amount you had subconsciously produced.

“Your punishment’s not done yet, doll.” Yeosang piped up, his small grin showing the little canines he had. You always thought that he had pretty teeth, but seeing them this way reminded you that he wasn’t here as your friend today, but as another dominant. 

“What … what else do I have to do?” you hesitatingly asked, twiddling with the ends of your shirt as San still kept your legs in place, spread upon like they all wanted.

“Hmm, it’s less about what you have to do, but rather more towards what you have to take.” Seonghwa quipped, the oldest man biting his tongue before continuing to speak again, “Right, Sannie?”

“That’s right~” your boyfriend cooed, placing his chin on your shoulder before laying a devastatingly sweet kiss on your neck, “Mingi, why don’t you do the honors of telling us what happens next?”

“My pleasure,” the man’s deep timbre evidently different than the rest, perhaps raising goosebumps on your skin from how attractive he sounded. Just like Wooyoung, he greeted you first, “Hello, pretty boy.” 

“H—hi.” you responded, eyes locked on Mingi’s section of the screen, “Hi, Mingi.”

“Are you ready?” he waited for you to nod, which you did, “Great. So, what’s going to happen now is San’s going to finger that sinfully wet hole…”

His degrading comment making you clench around nothing, liking how his voice sounded as he continued to speak,

“But again, you won’t cum. You will not cum, and if you manage to obey our orders until your punishment is done, only then will San fuck that preciously tight hole of yours. Understood?”

“Will I get to cum then?” your question filled with actual concern, edging being your least favorite punishment to take. 

“Of course. It’s only fair.” 

You hated men sometimes, especially when they were so cocky about sex. However, you couldn’t give a solid argument when they were all already making you awfully flustered. 

As you pursed your lips at Mingi’s words, absorbing the situation, San’s hot breath hit your ear once again. You could feel his lips moving from how close he was, soft and supple, juxtaposing the filth produced by his conscience. 

“Keep that in mind, princess.” he chuckled, starting to circle your swollen hole, “Daddy and his friends are only going to let you cum if you can hold in your orgasm.”

“I… I can do it.” you didn’t know if you were telling yourself that or San, either way it was to reassure yourself that you could, in fact, do it. 

“Okay~” without warning, at the end of the ‘okay’, he easily slipped two fingers into your previously empty hole. 

Using his ring and middle finger, San slowly began to teasingly move in and out of you, pleased by the whimpers coming out of your throat. 

“You hear that?” 

“H—hear what?” you cluelessly asked, not understanding what San was referencing to. 

“This.” 

Just as he said that, he repeatedly, and not so gently, moved his fingers in a come-hither motion, your special spot having been found easier than usual because of the vibrator use from before.

“Oh my—fuck.” you mewled, now understanding what he meant as your eyes slightly rolled back from the sudden bliss. 

The squelching of your wet hole was music to his ears, and to the seven other men eagerly watching, being one of his favorite sounds to hear whenever he fingered you. To say the least, Choi San was the closest thing you knew to a sexual deviant—an incubus.

“Don’t cum.” he commanded through gritted teeth. 

“What a pretty hole~” without looking, since you were too busy not being able to control your body’s trembling, you knew Hongjoong was the one making the compliment. 

“It is, isn’t it?” San replied for you, his hand around your penis while still finger-fucking you, “And it’s all fucking mine. Who does this tight hole and cock belong to again, darling? I think you need to remind daddy.”

Little shit, you thought. If only this cocky asshole wasn’t such a good boyfriend who was the best sex you’ve ever had. 

“Yours daddy!” you gasped out, unfortunately writhing as you badly needed to snap the knot in your abdomen, “A—all yours.” 

“Don’t cum, sweetheart~” he reminded you once again, this time in a sing-songy tone that made you tense your jaw. “Ask nicely to daddy’s friends if you want me to stop. Or else I won’t stop at all and you’ll have to hold in your carnal desires.” 

Swallowing the courage down your throat, you knew that would sound fucked out, but what did it matter anymore? Your orgasm and getting to have your boyfriend’s cock in you mattered more.

After all, you were Choi San’s personal slut. 

“Pl—lease. I can’t handle thi—is anymore,” some of your words were elongated from a choked moan you tried to keep down, “Please, please I can’t handle daddy’s fingers any—any more. Can’t hold it in—ah—I’ll cum.” 

“Awe, dollface, you can’t even get proper words out,” Seonghwa spoke, taunting you, “You really can’t take it anymore, huh? Can’t wait to get fucked stupid by your daddy?” 

“Yes! Yes, fuck yes~” your pride now completely out the window. 

“I think we should let her have Sannie now, don’t you all agree?” Wooyoung now asked, gleaming when the rest on screen nodded or simply smirked, “Alright, the agreement’s in your favor, angel.” 

Purposefully slow, San pulled his fingers out of your tight hole, making you squeeze around nothing at the sudden emptiness. You watched as he showed off his glistening hand to you and the screen, separating the two fingers that were just in you, causing you to see your own arousal stretch as it had coated his hand. 

“Open.” San was referencing your mouth, which you understood immediately, seeing that you two had done something like this more than once. 

Surrounding his fingers with your luscious lips, your sucking to get every drop off him was obnoxiously hot, making San smile as he silently thought ‘that’s my girl’. 

As per usual, you kept the cum on your tongue. Turning your head slightly, one of your hands cupped San’s jaw as you batted your eyes, your mascara-painted lashes complimenting the faux innocence in them. 

You stuck your tongue out, only a little bit, just enough for San to still be able to kiss you while sucking on it. As if collecting every bit, when he was done, he licked his lips and whispered to you,

“Always so sweet for me.” 

A whispered, but still hearable “holy shit” came out of Jongho’s mouth, his eager eyes watching you both, amazed at the sheer raw and sexual connection that was being shown by the web cam. 

“You want daddy’s cock, prince?” San asked once again, beginning to slightly buck up his hips, crotch still clothed and damp from your arousal. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

“Unzip me.” talking about his still zipped pants, which you quickly scrambled to smoothly undo with one hand, “Good boy, you can have it.” 

With the same hand, you took his dick out, pleased by the bit of pre-cum that was clearly coating his tip, assuring you more, even with how agonizingly hard he already was, that San was having just as good of a time.

He was fully supporting your body, your other hand clutching onto one of the chair’s arms just incase. You took his hardened member and first rubbed against it, slicking it with your own cum like you were marking your rightful territory. 

And after a few pleasurable movements on your penis, you finally pulled back just enough to let the tip come in first, slowly, but in such a needy manner, sinking down San’s cock like you were dependent on it.

Like your hole was molded and shaped for just his cock. 

You let out a sigh of satisfaction, feeling like you were getting the fill you needed since the start. San was stretching you open just enough to make the pain melt with pleasure, feeling good like it usually did.

“Stay right there for a second, darling.” 

And before you could register what San meant by that, your shirt was getting pulled over your torso, rolled up to your chest to reveal the rest of your body. 

“God, those must be nice to play with, huh San?” Yunho half-jokingly remarked, enjoying the sight of your bare pecs, visibly scanning your body as his friend’s cock was filling you to the brim. 

“Oh, surely they’re the best.” San spoke as if you weren’t there, “Absolutely love fucking myself between them. You should let me do that more often, Y/N.” 

“San.” you slightly scolded, clearly distracted by the cock inside you. You were a tad worn out from the denied orgasms, but having your boyfriend at least start to fuck you was sure as hell making you stay aware. 

This was what you wanted from the start. Ever since the first denial. 

“Okay, darling. Give daddy a minute.” 

You could feel San move his grip elsewhere, shifting his hands to the back of your knees, bending your legs towards your body.

From the new angle, you could his hips pushing rougher than before, cock reaching deeper, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the change.

“Shit.” you swore, the profanity serving as a sign that you were liking the feeling, your own hands moving to your penis to masturbate it. 

“You’re squeezing awfully tight around me, sweetheart. Missed daddy’s cock that much?” the cocky tone oozing out of San’s lips, but it wasn’t like he was wrong anyway. 

Not wanting any more delay, surely only wanting to have him pound you mindless, the words flowed out of your mouth like a mantra for all eight of the men; 

“Missed daddy’s cock so, so much. Can’t wait for you to fuck me stupid, until the only things I can think about are daddy and his friends watching me desperately cum.” 

“Goddamn, you don’t even talk this dirty with just the two of us.” San spat, liking this new attitude of yours, “My boyfriend’s that much of a whore to only get like this when daddy’s friends are around, huh?”

“Mhm~” you teased back, pushing on whatever inches were left exposed of San’s cock into your hole, lips pouted as you spoke to taunt him, “After all, isn’t that what daddy likes about me?”

“You know exactly what to say to rile me up, baby.” he admitted, holding you tighter, “You better hope you can walk tomorrow, slut.” 

And before you could register his words, San’s hips acted for him, having his body go absolutely feral, bucking into you with his cock like it was the first time he ever had a feel of your juicy tight hole. 

Quicker than expected, your mind grew blank, taking in the man’s pounding like you wanted, only thinking of the moments of when his cock was out of you, and when it came back in to hit your g-spot. 

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

Deliciously devouring every inch of your hole, hitting just the edge of your cervix, and satisfyingly filling your walls. 

The chair was creaking, making sounds just as much as the two of you were. Surely, the neighbors might complain again tomorrow, but you could blame it on one of your very aggressive sessions of ‘gameplay’. 

“How the fuck is your hole still so tight from the millions of times I’ve fucked you before, huh? Is your excitement to have my friends—shit,” cutting himself off from the pleasure, “To have my friends watch you making you do this?”

“Y—yes, m’such a cumslut.” you moaned, playing with your nipples, adding to the intensity, “I like that daddy’s friends are watching me—fuck I wanna cum so bad.” 

“You wanna cum?” 

“So bad~” you whimpered, voice an octave higher from how it usually was. 

“Grab the Hitachi.” 

You did as told, leaning forward to take the toy from the table, where San had previously placed it. 

“Turn it on high.” 

“A—again?” you asked, clutching the object tightly, just a few centimeters away from your sopping hole.

“What? Nervous we won’t let you cum again, sweetheart?” Hongjoong teased, making you slightly scoff.

“No. You promised I could.” your interjection putting a smirk on all of their faces.

“We didn’t say if you were allowed to stop cumming once you start though, prince.” San added, beginning to relentlessly fuck into you again, “Come on, put it on high and play with your cock while daddy fucks you.”

You nervously, still doing as told, switched the setting to high, the excessively loud and strong buzzing noise taking over your ears, paired with your boyfriend’s animalistic thrusting that was hard to concentrate with. 

Already in a bliss, the second you placed the vibrator on your balls, you squeezed around San, causing him to chuckle and let out a swear from his own pleasure. 

You were already close to cumming before, and it seemed that they all knew this would bring you even closer. 

Your eyebrows knitted together, eyes unfocused from the sensations, pecs and legs shaking from the overwhelming feelings. Though you didn’t notice, drool was beginning to make its way past the corner of your lips as your mind could only focus on the rhythmic bucking of San’s hips and the constant vibrations.

“You’re so pretty like that, baby.” Jongho complimented, “All fucked out and you haven’t even cum yet.”

“I—I want to!” you replied, implying your desire for your release.

“If you want to cum, you better say thank you to Jongho for calling you pretty. Don’t be rude, brat. I taught you better.”

“Holy sh—shit.” the words you spoke barely even sounding right at this point, slurred from the pure bliss of sex you were feeling, “Tha—ank you!”

“Good boy,” San managed to say, somewhat still keeping his composure. Surely, he was absolutely enjoying every inch of your hole, getting wetter and tighter the closer you were to cumming, “God, you’re just getting closer and closer, aren’t you?”

“Please, can I cum? Please, please, plea—“

His command cut you off, but you were pleased by it. Finally taking in your pleads to consideration, after mocking and teasing you this whole time, San’s smiled with darkened eyes as he spoke directly into your ear, 

“Cum.” 

Barely gripping the Hitachi, your entire composure slipped when your toes curled, chest trembling as you clenched your jaw, a silent scream wanting to escape as your release took over your body.

However, as the wave of pleasure washed over your body, it took you only a few seconds to realize that San wasn’t stopping. That the wave you were feeling was only going to go over you a few more times until he wanted to stop. 

San didn’t cum with you.

You were already starting to feel like you were in overdrive, having been denied orgasms and finally given one, the fact that he wasn’t stopping was making you more fucked out than you had anticipated. 

And just as you were about to drop the Hitachi, your boyfriend sternly demanded from you once again, 

“Drop that, and I won’t cum inside you.” 

How dare he deny you of your favorite part? But that was exactly what he wanted you to think. What he wanted you to be motivated by to keep taking him, keeping that vibrator on you as well.

“T—too much. Too much.” you repeated, the tip of your cock almost painfully reacting to the vibrator still being on you, even after your orgasm. You were swelling around San’s cock, your body not having even gotten over your first high.

“If it’s too much, say your safe word then, slut.” he taunted, knowing damn well you wouldn’t. 

Knowing damn well, deep down, you were enjoying this so much you didn’t want the night to end.

“Fu—uck~” you mewled, almost like a cat in heat, drunk on his cock. 

“Daddy’s gonna cum, yeah? You want that?” you nodded at his words, “Of course you fucking want that. You want me to fill you to the brim, don’t you baby?”

“Fuck yes, yes!” you had to admit, adoring the feeling of whenever San came inside you, his cum painting the walls of your hole like it was meant only for that.

“That’s right, that’s my good fucking angel.” he grunted, his thrusts getting a bit sloppy, but not weakening by any means, “Holy shit.” 

With the last swear passing his lips, and a gasp coming out of yours, you both came at the same time, San even biting your shoulder (in the same place he usually did) as he released inside you. 

Both of you took deep breaths, San’s a bit shakier than yours as you turned the Hitachi off, his hands now carefully letting your legs down. He pulled your pants and shirt down for you, covering your bare body with the clothes again, as if it helped in any way (it did, you appreciated the gesture). 

This time, you could see that the two of you almost looked normal in the personal camera view, as if a girlfriend was just sitting on a boyfriend’s lap, perhaps slightly sweaty. 

In a post-coital tone of voice, cock still in you as if he had something up, he rolled the chair forward to come near the screen as he said;

“Sorry boys, seems like round two’s gonna happen offline.”

@atzsslut

#kpop x male reader #male reader #ateez x male reader #x male reader #male reader smuts #ateez #ateez smut #san #choi san #san smut #san x male reader #smut

[hydrangeyes]

Unnamed

So if you don't know, Yes this already existed, my old account was deleted (accident but I can tell I won't be getting it back), and am reposting my old x male reader works!

I don't know if I saved all of them but here is one that was saved to my AO3 account.

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

Shigaraki is horny but you're not giving him any attention, trying to pull you away from work. You think it's kinda funny and have no problem taking care of him right there and then. Shigaraki is a brat and you can't convince me otherwise.

Warning: spanking, fingering, edging, a bit of tears/light dacryphilia, overstimulation, public sex, cock warming

Didn't name this one, and I for sure thought I deleted but what a surprise! I think this was my first reinterest in writing full on smut, also unfinished lmao so it really is just foreplay

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

Why were you ignoring him!?

He’s been at this for almost an hour already (it’s been 5 minutes), can’t you see that he was ready to burst!? Calling for you, bending over on the other side of the table, calling you again. Shigaraki scowls from where he was standing besides you just barely out of view in nothing but one of your large shirts and boxer briefs. Today was suppose to be your day off, so you were visiting and were suppose to keep him company with a full day of gaming.

But no, even with the new hideout empty, you were still working!! Paperwork, laptop and all!

You even put back on your pants. that made him let out a displeased whine, no shame with everyone out and not able to see his needy display. He worked so hard convincing you to let him tear off the other pair, where did you get this one?

Shaking his head, Shigaraki creeps closer seeing that you're in the middle of a video call. Tough. Making sure to use only 3 fingers, shigaraki nudges the laptop in a different direction and quickly plops himself onto your lap.

"Shig!"

"Oh good, I have your attention now."

He grins wrapping his arms around you loosely. You're the one scowling now, telling your coworker that it was your cat and he had to clean up the spill, reaching to turn on mute.

"Mmh good~ I really only want you to hear me." Shigaraki purrs wiggling his hips to get comfy. "Oh no you don't." You huff gripping his hips to keep him still glaring. "You think I'll let this slide?"

Shigaraki glares back tensing his arms so you cant push him off. "Today was suppose to be for us. Only us and our favorite games! Not your stupid work." He whines out the last sentence.

You sigh a little, which makes him relax again. Feeling this you quickly flip him to be lying across your lap instead, ignoring is outraged squeak. "My 'stupid' work is what got you that game. I know today was just for us brat, but I needed to be apart of the meeting."

You hum using one hand to firmly keep your wiggling partner in place, the other rubbing down his back and just above the swell of his ass. In all honesty the moment he called out for you, you were distracted. But pretending to ignore him was always fun, his usual lazy behavior changing on the spot.

Shigaraki stops his wiggling at your touch, arching to try and encourage you. He inwardly curses his past self from 10 minutes ago for even bothering with clothes.

"It wasn't going to be long either, but I should have know my cute little brat wouldn't wait patiently." You growl, lifting and giving his ass a firm slap.

"Ah!!"

"Tsk, I really thought you learned your lesson the last time you interrupted my work." Cooing softly as you watch him shudder, you can see the tip of his ears start to turn red.

You don’t let him respond before placing another firm slap, then another and another. Watching as he yelps and whimpers with each smack. Shigaraki arches and moans into it, gripping with 4 fingers each the end of the chair.

Panting and trying to grind against you shigaraki bites his lips to try and muffle just how much he was enjoying this. But you know your brat well, plus you can just feel how much he’s leaking on your leg.

Easing up you hum nonchalantly eyes hooded rubbing his red cheeks, giving him a moment to come back. Reaching to your bottom desk drawer you

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

Legit where the draft ended lmaooooooo

#I had PLAN when writing this- eh might come back lolol #male reader #top male reader #Bhna x male reader #Shigaraki x male reader

[starryhunbun]

It's midnight and I can't sleep because i have yet again thoughts to share. I just came to think of something unsettling and it's bothering me so much that I just couldn't continue with my life without shari g this with anyone.

I'm German. So when it comes to things that are somehow connected to germany, I’ll know it. And I'll be like "Oh, yeah I know that too, that's funny".

Example: when Wednesday started speaking German (sort of).

I also watch and read blue lock. So when this mf came up:

Micheal fucking Kaiser who speaks german just like we can see in this panel ("auf die Knie"/eng: kneel), I was like oh, yeah makes sense he's playing for one of the most popular and successful football Clubs of Germany. Hell, members of my family are huge Bayern München fans (that's the original name btw, not bastard munchen). So naturally he speaks german. His name is so painfully German too, my old teacher's name was Misses Kaiser so yeah. The only thing more German than this is if his name was Müller.💀

But that's not what this is about.

This is not about the fact that he is German.

This is about the fact that he is from fucking Munich and it just hit me recently when I thought back to my own visit there while going through my pictures. It's beautiful there, really. A regular big city in Germany. Whatever.

WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY IS THAT THEY HAVE A DIALECT!

Just like people from Texas have an accent, people from Munich, the very place the bastard munchen players come from, have an ACCENT. Of course not everyone and all that but still. THIS ACCENT EXISTS AND I FORGOT ABOUT IT AND NOW I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.

Because NOW THAT BLUE LOCK SEASON 2 IS ANNOUNCED IM SCARED THAT THEY WILL GIVE KAISER THE MOST DISTURBING BAVARIAN (bayrisch) DIALECT BECAUSE I THINK THIS ACCENT IS SO SILLY.

(no hate to those who have it, it's totally normal. I just dont understand yall😃 I feel like this)

BECAUSE CAN YOU IMAGINE THIS GUY PICKING A FIGHT ISAGI WITH A SILLY DIALECT?

I CAN'T.

For those who cant imagine the impact of this dialect I found a good video to show the difference between standard German and Bavaria dialect. The girl in the white speaks with dialect Btw.

Part 1 || Part 2

#blue lock #micheal kaiser #Micheal Kaiser is from munich #If micheal Kaiser has a bavarian accent im gonna cry #Because not even me as a German person will understand them #Flashback to episode 23 with the english accents💀 #bllk #micheal kaiser x reader #bastard munchen #blue lock spoilers #Kaiser is the most bougie rich Bavarian guy I can imagine

[mysterybooks-world]

Hello guys This is me again With another Vox Au

I was inspired by this new anime (7th Time Loop)

When it first came out I was waiting for the rest of the episodes to come out. After watching Third episode

When I was watching the opening song

When I saw her fall in the portal of the time. My mind worked quickly And Vox imagined her place

What if every time Vox died by Angelic Weapon, goes back in time to the first time falls he in hell, And instead of seven times he died Maybe ten times he died or Thirteen times.

When Vox first died He was confused, he knows He died by Angelic Weapon Isn't it supposed to be Dead, disappeared from existence? He remembers when he die, Everything is in slow motion all his memories flew before his eyes And when he died He felt himself falling And look around him a Sparkling golden portal Of sorts With clocks everywhere And when he finally fell On solid ground. He was trying to understand the situation, but when he looked at his clothes. He was shocked by the brown coat and orange sweater And Vox touched his head and found his old hat. He hasn't worn these clothes for a long time And he realized more that his head was his original TV and Vox realize that it is the same place where he fell for the first time after his death when he was a humanAnd he said WHAT THE FUCKE. Then Vox took a deep breath He tells himself this is not the time to panic. Vox look To his surroundings, He found an old newspaper on the ground When he looked at the history of the newspaper He was shocked by the date, the day, and the old news that was supposed to be the past. And here Vox realized that he was in his past When he fell to hell First time. Vox does not know what to do, whether to follow the same path or go to another path. Vox knows from science fiction and theories that if he changes anything in the past, the future will change. But the question is why he returned to the past when he died, He remembers before reform&Manifest His body When a stupid person tried to kill him with a bomb. He did not return to the past But when he was killed by Angelic Weapon. Wait a minute Does this mean that every time I killed by an Angelic Weapon I go back to the past? This is a dangerous theory, I can't take the risk. It might just happen once And if I try a second time I might really die.

here Vox's journey begins to changes his life for the better. But when he died the second time, Vox realize that his theory is correct. And every time he dies, he goes to a new path and a new way of life. In addition In every experience, skill or power will still be with Vox. and he kept the secret Because he might attract unwanted attention. Vox not known why this happens. Is that some kind of strange anomaly. Is this part of my power I don't know about or Is this the action of someone else? Like this is more like video games Different choices lead to different endings. or like anime that he watch it with velvette. is This the kind of silly self-discovery or lesson learning of some sort about my life. Whatever this is He can work it to his advantage But there is another theory that bothers him. Like are there other people like him? Do some of them still remember the original timeline? Or is this like a dream for them that they do not remember. And what about Lucifer & Lilith. And the rest of the Sins and What about the heaven and angels. Do they know anything about this? Does God know this or is he behind all this? Or something else. too Many questions and no answers

Despite this Nothing stops Vox from discovering and changing the path to his future. for example In one of his new lives And work in different professions,

Vox works with or is still friends with Alastor

Vox worked with Carmilla in the weapons field They are both business partners. And a trademark is (CV)

And in other live

Vox becomes like a knight or servant to Lucifer

Vox becomes a business partner or assistantwith Mammon

And in other his live

Vox becomes a business partner or assistant with Asmodeus

Vox works with Beelzebub

Vox works with Goetia Family.

And either works or has relationships with Seven Deadly Sins

Vox a Singer with Verosika.

Vox's partner with Husk And Vox stopped Husk from gambling his soul with Alastor, So Husk is still the a Overlord In this timeline

Vox worked with the I.M.P team

Vox works with Lilith

And in other lives Vox Work with heaven

Imagine if Vox met Lucifer's siblings and And some of angels.

I was thinking.

my mind said to me IF Vox plays a role of Rishe. What do you think if you make Alastor plays a role of Arnold, like for example

In all his previous lives Vox was always ignoring and avoiding Alastor. or Just or someone making deals with Or only They know each other but don't talk much

In his last death

like the anime. Vox died by Alastor.

Vox like as Rishe, He was determined to live longer and be free in his life.

Because Alastor killed him,

Vox's kind of afraid of him

Vox will live his way

I was thinking about the events of the story

After that Vox got his own studio

There is a scene that I always imagined

When Vox started his television program and On And the last show

Imagine this scene of Vox being on his stage playing the piano And he sings NEVER ENOUGH from The Greatest Showman. Like the scene from MLP:Season 5 - Episode 24 ''The Mane Attraction''

And in part of a song Imagine Musicians behind a screen And only their shadows appeared

When Vox was starting a song He has a special ability to make every TV in all hell more colorful and sound clearer But he is the only person capable of this. This is what attracted a lot of people, They are still in the era of black, white and gray television So they see their TV in color and it surprises them,

And I imagine this scene

Alastor was walking down the street when he heard a voice: You set off a dream in me Getting louder now, And Alastor searches for the source of the singer's voice. He found a In front of a shop window were a lot of screens And there is a crowd And watch the show.

Or another scene

Rosie invites Alastor to lunch. She showed him her TV. He asked her why she had that ridiculous pictures box. Rosie told him that today they will be showing a special show on TV. They say it's special.

Rosie: Come on, let's just watch Maybe it will change your mind

Alastor laughed and said I doubt that.

Rosie: bet

Alastor: bet

they Watching programs such as competitions, speech, cooking, and other things. the last programme. Vox was giving a speech about his company and how he is looking for all kinds of talents and artists to join his company. After his speech, Vox said he would give them a show they would never forget and he began playing the piano. sings NEVER ENOUGH Like the scene. Alastor will comment that just a colored box now, But he changed his mind when he listened to his song and found his voice amazing. The show was breathtaking. After it's finished

Rosie: What were you saying Alastor?

Alastor: not bad But if it was on Opera it would be better Or better yet, on the radio

Rosie smiles and shakes her head: oh Al And she laughed.

ME: There is so much I would like to tell you guys about my AU (the Time Loop)

Later I will explain the story

#7th time loop #loop 7 kaime no akuyaku reijou wa #7th time loop: the villainess enjoys a carefree life married to her worst enemy! #arnold hein #rishe irmgard weitzner #rishe weitzner #7thtimeloopedit #hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor #rosie #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin rosie #Helluva boss #Hell boss #Youtube

[rawliverandgoronspice]

I absolutely love your analysis of the gerudo and Ganondorf because they put into words what bothers me about how TOTK portrays Ganondorf. That being they remove his agency as a character in favor of having some great evil against the good guys.

[Major story spoilers ahead for the end of the game]

At the end of the game, when you’ve defeated Ganondorf, he swallows the secret stone and becomes a dragon, like Zelda, fully knowing the consequences of what happens when that happens. And it’s just kinda left me with a bitter taste in my mouth? In the context of the story it makes sense, he’s portrayed as a egomaniac who just wants to destroy Hyrule. But compared to other versions of him, this one just feels more openly biased against him and the gerudo, with no reason or justification other than “he’s evil, hate him.” As far as I can tell… They never really show us that he’s done anything horrible or deserving of being feared before the show of fealty cutscene, other than not submit to Hyrule, attack them once, and generally have bad vibes. It feels forced how much they want us to hate him and the people who follow him. I’m not saying character in video games always have to be nuanced or complex but comparing like, Wind Waker Ganondorf next to TOTK Ganondorf…. 🙃 Waste of an excellent design imo.

Heyyy sorry for being a billion years late with this ask!! I was busy finishing the game!!! among other things!!! Thank you so much for your kind words, I'm super happy it resonated with you in that way!

I mean, the whole draconification plot beat doesn't really work for me. Like yeah, sure it's sad that Zelda is now a giant dragon and it's cool to have her soaring above your head while you have no idea where she actually is (a situation that isn't nearly tapped into enough in the narrative imo, like it gets obvious way too fast if you happen upon the wrong memory, etc), and I actually think the whole sequence of you removing the Master Sword from her head was the best scene in the entire game in terms of mood and emotions --even THOUGH it would have been so much better with a stronger story and stronger stakes-- BUT. How does that build up thematically?

I think what doesn't work for the Zelda side of this plot point (I'll get to Ganon next) is that... she doesn't make that choice. It's not like she's being tempted by an easy way out and decides to sacrifice herself for the sake of Hyrule or Link or whoever: she has no choice in the matter. Her powers activate (?? somehow? once and never again also, talk about dropped plot threads), she finds herself in the past, is the passive witness to a bunch of shit that only tangientially relates to her --it's like she's visiting estranged family in a foreign country and watch their drama awkwardly before being dragged into it against her will even though she was just trying to renew her passport and get back home (if there had been any callback to her relationship with her father it would have landed better, but it's just completely ignored so vOv). Then her relatives all die or corrupt or something, and she still can't get back home. What is she meant to do besides draconify? Grow old and die in the past? What would that accomplish?? Her adventures in the past are just basically about solving a shrine puzzle with a particularly weird solution --but the game treats it like a huge sacrifice when it's basically her only way out, and she lost absolutely nothing making that sacrifice (and then she... cries about the weird family drama? sure. Honestly I think it would have worked better if the tears were Rauru's, it's his bullshit everyone is dealing with right? He's the one who feels broken and aggrieved by the whole thing.)

So, if we ignore the draconification precedent builds up to zero thing thematically beyond cheap drama that reveals nothing about neither the characters nor the world, I think Ganondorf's case is a little more compelling because he does make a choice here: dying as he tries to achieve his weird lofty goals (and fail), or postpone his victory eternally by sacrificing his objectives but reject death and defeat --while also barring himself from victory. In a better crafted story, this could be utterly excellent and it feels very Ganondorf to me. BUT, my beef with that plot beat isn't that he chooses the second option, making him kinda active for the first time in the entire game (and makes an appropriate hideous smile: *loved* this second one, the first one didn't land for me but this one really captures the ecstatic insanity and transcendance and desperate madness of the act --I have nothing against Ganondorf offputting smiles and cackles when they feel earned, and the Sonia one just... doesn't to me, it just feels like weird rigging and mesh deformation choices getting out of control).

My problem is that his existence as a dragon contradicts everything we knew about dragons before --both for him and for Zelda. I thought the big issue with draconification was that you'd lose yourself to the act entirely, and would become this sort of organic landmark of infinite power and eternal life but without will to act on your precedent goals and understanding of yourself. But the second the big man becomes an evil dragon, suddenly Zelda zips in to the rescue (apparently remembering who you are? understanding she's meant to fight Ganondorf? I mean, this kind of works emotionally as a climactic ending and the power of love or whatever, again it would have worked better in a better story), and Ganondorf is still very much into destroying the world as well as you and Zelda.

Also, he's very definitively mortal (and he has the stone on his head again? And so if you destroy it you destroy his immortality? why???)

So... What I dislike here is the suggestion that he was somehow so evil and rotten and bad that all of these rare moments of interesting worldbuilding and ambivalence gets completely swallowed in the bossfight logic, making his choice (and Zelda's) completely meaningless in retrospect.

also: let Zelda remain a dragon you cowards, that way Hyrule gets any sort of chance to escape and reimagine its horrying eternal monarchy instead of re-establishing it even harder than before!!!

#totk #totk spoilers #totk critical #asks #tloz #zelda #ganondorf #any change to the statut quo emotionally is so unbearable to this game's writing it's so weird #the dragon thing is a cool idea but I'm not sure it should have involved zelda tbh #if it had been rauru's thing while mineru held ganondorf in place it would have worked better in my opinion #I feel like this leads to much better character arcs and make mineru more of a character #and someone we could connect to much more than rauru #something

[irisu-syndromemes]

plagiarizing an obscure indie game for lazy hip hop and rap

youtube is currently going up in flames over plagiarism found in many people's channels, particularly documentary-ish videos that have commentary from the uploader. this seems to be mostly because of that hbomberguy and his recent video about plagiarism on the website, as well as a specific person who's drowning in controversy lately.

i admit that i don't want to watch the video, because i've watched other videos already, and i've heard about the other channels' plagiarism through the grapevine. plagiarism IS awful, and it's a disgrace to find it's way more commonplace than i thought.

all this made me remember something... a few weeks ago i remembered that i once found a few songs on youtube, and 1 on spotify, that straight up steal music from an old indie horror game that's stayed pretty obscure throughout the years. so i spent the next few days trying to find every youtube upload with stolen music from it, as well as the respective channels, and even uploads on other websites (which i did find; one of them was even "for sale" on a beat-selling website).

it made me angry. it made me sick. to see so many idiotic hip hop "artists" steal someone else's work, sometimes even selling it, because they're hacks who can't be bothered to put in the work for their craft. i accumulated quite a number of tabs of people who did this - WAY too many links to videos and uploaders - and then...

i closed them all. i was furious and it was making me go crazy. my mental health was taking a hit and i knew there was nothing i could do...

the game they're all stealing from is called Irisu Syndrome, and it's a short freeware horror game from japan first released in 2008 that has garnered a bit of a cult following. the music is by MusMus, who is credited as Watson in the game. it's still very obscure, but well-known enough that siivagunner has made a "high quality rip" of one of its tracks. in fact, it even inspired Dan Salvato to make Doki Doki Literature Club partially! suffice to say, i adore this game. it may be short, but it left a lasting impression on me (it's a pretty shocking game! those under 16 and easily-disturbed folks should avoid it), so i've never forgotten about it as the years passed.

the game was made entirely by japanese people... this makes any sort of communication between western fans and the dev or MusMus pretty difficult. for the record, the english patch was supposed to be given an official release, but the dev himself couldn't find a way to contact the english translators, so only spanish and mandarin got official versions.

communication is difficult... i can't just email some japanese person who made this game's music all those years ago, with all these links and all this worry in my heart, and expect a response. i don't want to be intrusive.

...but i also care. maybe i care too much. it's incredibly unfair that some bozos are out there stealing the guy's music and getting comments like "this is fire!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥" when all they did was add a beat to the tracks. meanwhile the game stays in obscurity. none of them are popular "musicians" but it's sickening all the same. it's stealing. all i want is for the game's music composer to know, so maybe he can report those uploads himself.

for the record i know about sampling, and this isn't it. using the entire track and then not crediting, that's not innocent "sampling". just wanted to make that clear.

i get cold feet easily. i don't know if i can just email him, if he would read it, if i can make my point clear, if anything could actually be done. i don't want to be intrusive. i don't want to be a nuisance.

but all this recent talk of plagiarism, it got me thinking again. it's incredibly unfair, because even if he was okay with it, the plagiarists didn't ask or credit him. i can't just forget about this, so i'm making this post.

i'm making this post haphazardly, in the hopes someone knows what to do. maybe someone knows of a solution, maybe someone could help. maybe even spreading the word, to someone who knows the right thing to do about this. i've thought of making my own youtube video about this issue, but i have no subscribers, and i get cold feet easily. it would get nowhere.

"it's just music from just some game" but it's a game i love anyway. i have all this worry in my heart, and i don't know what to do.

#irisu syndrome #plagiarism #hbomberguy #iilluminaughtii #ddlc #doki doki literature club #plagiarism on youtube #i honestly don't know what else to tag... #this is something important to me. the game and its music. the composer and plagiarism in the music industry. #i'm not kidding when i say: please help. i feel like i'm going insane all over again.

[toomuchracket]

need some fiancé matty fluff so bad rn, also reader & matty‘s wedding!

let’s be honest, matty would cry watching you walk down the isle at ur wedding. full on tears and he’s not even bothering to wipe them away, he’s just so in love and he doesn’t care who knows it

Have you ever seen those videos of George and Charli DJing ?? I love them so much I imagine them having a set at the wedding 🥹🤍

the wedding!! basing this off of the venue being in london. after the rehearsal dinner finishes in the afternoon, i think you and matty have some time alone at home before you go off to do the "spending the night before the wedding apart" thing. you chill, have some wine and a bit of sexy time (imagine telling matty during sex that "next time we do this i'll be your wife". he'd lose it), before charli drops george and the boys off (they're staying in your house with matty that night) and picks you up so the two of you and the rest of your bridal party can stay in a hotel near your venue. and matty's halfway through the passenger window clinging to you before you leave like "please don't leave me at the altar like a twat" and you're like "as if i'd do that you're the love of my life! meet you there tomorrow" and you kiss.

and then matty looks at charli and goes "and don't you even think about seducing my missus into a torrid lesbian affair tonight" (as she threatens to do quite often, as a bit) and she winks and goes "no promises, healy, i mean look at her", and matty looks at you dreamily and says "... yeah" and you're like "you're gonna cry so bad tomorrow huh" and he's like "absolutely", then kisses you again before charli drives off. and the two of you have fun with your friends/families, but neither you or matty can fall asleep because you're not with the other :(( and he texts you like "can't sleep lol" and you reply "me either lol going for a smoke", and he's like "i'll do the same". so you're out on the hotel balcony and matty calls you and you guys just chat for a bit and it's really sweet, then he goes "s'past midnight angel, we should both get some sleep" and you say "yeah, it's technically our wedding day already and neither of us have gone to bed" and he laughs and says "so it is. sweet dreams, darlin'. see you in a bit" and you both go back to bed and actually manage to sleep. you're both up early, though - you get your hair and makeup all done before the bridal party gets glam, and matty takes mayhem for a really long walk and rehearses his speech on the way before he goes home to get ready. and the two of you are sending voice note updates and its making you even more excited about the day, and then it's time for some pics and then you're ready to go! and matty's probably in a black suit as per, but like the best black suit he's ever worn, and he doesn't even register the bridesmaids walking in because he's too busy craning his neck to catch a glimpse of you. and then you appear and he cries - your dress is perfect, you're glowing, and you just look like YOU, the love of his life. and you're smiling so big at him as you walk down the aisle (it's taking everything in you not to run to him), and when you reach him you say "hi handsome" and matty's like "you're perfect" and you giggle and reach up to wipe the tears off his face and he kisses the palm of your hand as you do, which everyone in the congregation swoons at. you cry at his vows. he cries at yours. adam's son passes the rings up with no problem, his dad behind him quietly sobbing. and then it's time for the kiss - matty being matty, he does something dramatic, either dips you like an old hollywood film or just grabs your face and kisses you. but it's a perfect kiss, full of love and contentment and joy, and then you sign the marriage certificate and that's it! you're married! and you have a little minute alone afterwards where matty's like "you're my WIFE" and you're like "hell yeah i am", and he says "well, wifey, can i kiss you?" and you're like "yeah i wanna make out with my husband". so you do, passionately, and it could turn into full-scale fucking but you both compose yourselves and go out to be congratulated by everyone before it does lol.

and the rest of the night is perfect, too. everyone's happy and laughing throughout the meal and george's best man speech, and crying at matty's (which he just recites to you off by heart). and then the boys get ready and play for you and matty's first dance (accompanied by phoebe, maybe) and it's PERFECT. after that, george and charli do a little dj set to start the party, and you and matty flit between dancing and chatting to people. it soon turns into all your producer and musician friends just taking turns to control the tunes, everyone getting a little tipsy and just having a great time. and there's so much love in the room, specifically between ross and your best friend/maid of honour, who have literally been glued to each other all night - you tried to dance with her to the spice girls but she was too preoccupied kissing him next to the bar lol. and then i think you and matty sneak out for a little smoke, and your hair's a bit messy and you're a little tipsy but you're so happy and matty takes a pic of you, cig in hand and all, because you just look the most beautiful he's ever seen you. and you're like "omg no i look like a mess" and he's like "nope that's my new lockscreen" and you giggle and just kiss him for a bit. and matty says "you're perfect. today's been perfect. i love you so much, wifey" and you say "i love you. can't wait to spend the rest of my life showing you that", and you cuddle. and matty's hands start to get a bit touchy and you're like "excuse me, husband!" and matty's like "as much as i'm enjoying today i just really want to take my wife home now" and you're like "actually fair i think you'll enjoy what i'm wearing under my dress (custom lace set lol)". and matty's like "right that's it i'm stopping the party now!" and you giggle and say "i love you" and he kisses your nose and says "i love you too" <3

#mads answers asks #mads muses #matty asks #fluff asks #fiance!matty #husband!matty

[horrorisunknowntoyou]

BROTHERS REACTION TO VOICE ACTRESS / ACTOR MC CHARACTER'S DEATH SCENES.

_______________________________________

(Brothers x mc)

Part 1 - Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan ( SORRY IF THEIR OOC )

Genre - fluff and angst.

TW// death and description of violence and injury etc.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

I was very much inspired by clips of The Walking dead season 1 ending and other media. And i thought it'll be fun writing their reaction to seeing or hearing their mc " dying. "

Also spoilers for that as I used that as reference for Lucifer's part.

______________________________________

You told your boyfriend about your job and roles you did in the human realm. Since he was fascinated by the work you did, and having your D.D.D on you. You decided to show him some clips or videos of your characters in which they watch how your character dies in the end.

LUCIFER

What was originally supposed to be you and him quietly conversing while he was doing his work. Ended with him forgetting his paperwork and watching a playthrough of a game in which MC voice acted in. He was quietly watching the video with you leaning beside him on his desk.

He was so absorbed into the media, usually he scoffed at this stuff as this was more leviathan's thing. However since it involved you , his interest was peaked.

The game he was watching was some sort of survival game in which you voiced the mentor. And they have to survive some virus he assumes, but as times progressed he noticed how the character you voiced was getting sicker and sicker. But trying their best to keep the child character happy and healthy and learn to live in this cruel world.

Then the infamous scene where all the players cried happens. After a brutal attack and being barricaded your character finally collapsed to the horror of the child.

" Honey…I don't think I can go further on…you're gonna have to do what you have to do…" *gasping* " I know you're scared, I am too…but…I know you can live on without me…" *coughs*

" No…no! (Characters name) you can't go…please…don't leave me alone…"

"Sweet pea…listen to me, you have to shoot me or else I might hurt you…you have to keep going..I'm too weak , and they got me good back there…as long as you're safe and healthy I'll be at peace."

The child character looks at them, crying as they stand up cocking the gun, recounting happy moments together. Even when dying your character tries to comfort them.

"It's okay…it's okay…I'll be okay… stay high and look for the others. And always keep moving…I love you kiddo…"

BANG

Screen went black and all that could be heard was a child's cry.

After some silence, the old memories and nostalgia of listening to your younger voice and your co workers made you smile. However, you didn't notice but while distracted by fond old memories. Lucifer had to look away at the end, he didn't want to let you know. Especially with his pride how much he was holding back tears, he was avoiding eye contact with you. Because his eyes were getting glossy, he knows it's fictional and he knows you didn't die in real life. But god it hurted so much hearing how hurt and tired you sounded. Eventually he couldn't hold it in and cried softly. His gloved hand hid his face embarrassed that it got him this emotional.

" Aw luci, it's okay..I'm okay " you gently say, wrapping your arms around him. Kissing his cheek and comforting him until he calms down. Once calm even with his face red and tear stain he looks at you so sternly.

" Mc, please…never show me that again.."

MAMMON

You two were talking about things you have been in. Like Mammon has done modeling , perfume ads, things of that matter. And you told him that you were in a movie much to his surprise.

You played as the love interest for a film (but you didn't tell him, it ended on a dark, sad note. )

You actually had a copy of the movie on deck and played it for him in the living room since he wouldn't stop bothering you to show him it.

At first he was really grumpy and jealous over the male lead making comments throughout. But secretly he was really into the movie and curious how it ends.

Midway through the movie, it foreshadows your character's death. Mainly with the symbolism of flowers in the background of your room.

Yellow hyacinth , red roses , lilacs , forget me nots, petunias etc.

While watching he noticed another girl, slowly getting involved with the main cast. She was there from the beginning but he didn't know what was going on. That was until that girl asked your character to hang out somewhere.

He was highly suspicious of what was going to happen but he didn't expect the girl to force you into the ground and begin stabbing you to death.

"How dare you take (love interest) he was mine since middle school! And suddenly he loves you!? That's not fair! That's not fair!"

You scream in pain, crying trying to defend yourself. Injuring your hands and coughing out blood. " P-please stop! I'll s-stop dating (love interest) please! I don't wanna die…please! I thought we were friends! "

The girl kept stabbing you , her hatred and jealousy was very clear.

You begged for your life, till the end.

"I'm s-sorry…I'm…" you took your last breath as your eyes rolled back clouded.

Mammon sat there in silence…pausing the movie, he didn't want to watch it any further. He then stood up and walked over to you pulling you into a tight hug , as you felt water droplets onto your shoulder.

" Human…I love ya…but promise me…never again…"

After that, you mysteriously lost the movie and mammon haven't left your side for a week. Completely ignoring his brothers and clinging onto you.

He was completely protective of you and would hiss at any one getting close to you. Especially women who looked similar to your characters killer from the film.

LEVIATHAN

You were in Levi's room watching some obscure long tilted anime. You thought it sounded really familiar and then you remembered that you voice acted in the English dub of it.

" Levi , Levi! Wait, we should watched it in dub, I actually voiced the space prince's sibling. "

He was so shook

"Ehhhh?! Really mc?! Your the prince's sibling! I had no idea you voiced acted!"

You nodded, embarrassed by it " I totally forgot about it. It was like the first role I did. I thought I did so bad in it…like there is a whole dedicated fan group for this anime.."

" Don't tell me what happens! I wanna see it!"

So you spent the rest of the day watching the series, around season 2 the finale. The prince was trapped with thier sibling..by then it was revealed that your companions betrayed you. And Levi was practically fuming at this point. Your character sounded so sad and disappointed it broke his heart.

But then it got worse.

" Prince Saturn…it's over! The kingdom will be ours…with your death…you will be nothing more…then a memory…" The prince looked behind him noticing only one escape pod left. Looking back at the hologram " I can't give up now! The zodiacs need their prince! I can't possibly throw the towel in! "

" It's not as if you have a choice prince the space shuttle is blowing up, you know that…only one of you will survive.."

Leviathan had his face Infront of the TV. Biting hard into a pillow practically ripping it apart. " I can't believe their using the prince's good nature to pick over him or his sibling knowing he'll pick his sibling." You watch him growl at the TV , knowing what's happening next. Oh boy…

Your character look into the distance, seeing the debris and explosion coming near. You looked back at your brother deciding what you must do, for the future of kingdom and your older brother. " Saturn…look at me…I love you so much…I'm sorry what I'm about to do…" you pushed the prince into the escape pod. "(Your character name?)..."

"Forgive me brother! You always protect me from others now it's my turn to save you. Live a happy life! Save our kingdom and become king.!"

Leviathan practically scream at the revelation " MC NOOOO"

You pressed the button as your brother screamed In horror …the hologram glitching behind you…as you cried loudly " Im sorry…I failed you brother…but atleast..I was useful in the end…" You closed your eyes as explosions engulf you killing your character off.

Leviathan was so hurt, your character just died! And they were his favorite , no wonder when he search up the series there was so much fanart of the prince's sibling. He was so emotional that he was in demon form crying his eyes out.

"M-mc!" He practically sobbed into your chest clinging onto you, his tail wrapped around you protectively. " Y-you died..and you s-sounded so sad! How dare t-they kill off your character!!!"

You literally had to calm him down and give him kisses. " Levi, baby…this is season 2 you have the movies and other seasons! But if you like…we can take a break and cuddle and watch a cute shojo anime or ruri-chan to make you feel better." He nodded to the latter option as he buried his head into your chest.

" Okay baby. " You kissed ontop of his head , rubbing his back gently. "

Also he definitely bought merch of your character and make you sign in. ( And totally not brag about it in Devildom equivalent of twitch/reddit.)

( Lol, I'm sorry if this isn't good I tried my best.)

#obey me brothers react to #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me scenarios #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x mc #obey me