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#this is one of my favorite things ive written this year i think
br1ghtestlight · 3 months
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absolutely begging for you to talk about “28. jimmy jr and bob”
OH THAT ONE LOL as a tinimmy fan I'm not sure how interested you'd be but it's about jimmy jr coming out to gay to bob after a fight w/ his own dad. because bob feels safe as a queer adult in his life :( it's really sweet I wish i finished writing it
(on a similar note I always wanted to write about the MANY many similarities between bob and jimmy jr in terms of working in a restaurant from a young age, fighting w/ their dad, being named after their dad but failing to live up to the legacy etc even their speech disorders!!! this fic would have probably played into that later in their conversation)
"I don't know. Everything is—Ugh! I did something stupid, and my dad is angry at me about it. I couldn't think of anybody else to talk to about this. I know my mom wouldn't understand, and I don't… really want to tell her about it," Jimmy Junior started.
"What did you do?" Bob asked.
He knew that Jimmy Junior was a responsible kid and it was unlikely, but the first thing that his mind jumped to was that Jimmy Junior had accidently got somebody pregnant. There weren't a lot of stupid things that a teenage boy could do that their father wouldn't expect of them. Bob knew that, because he'd done quite a few stupid things when he was a teenager, and his father would never let him forget it.
Jimmy Junior took a deep breath, and Bob waited patiently. Even if he had gotten somebody pregnant or did something else equally stupid and irresponsible, it was obvious that Jimmy Junior trusted him and he needed support with whatever was going on. Bob promised that he would be there for his kids regardless of anything that they did, even if it was reckless or irresponsible, and that promise to himself applied to any other kids that came to him for advice or help with something.
"I told my dad that I think I'm, uh—I'm gay," Jimmy Junior said. His voice was so quiet that Bob almost couldn't hear him at all. "He didn't really… get it. He didn't kick me out or anything, but he said that I'm too young to know what I'm talking about, and that I'm just doing this to be rebellious and get his attention. Zeke said that I shouldn't tell him until I was ready, but I thought that if I told somebody it would make me feel more… confident, I guess? I feel like an idiot."
Bob didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected this. He knew that Jimmy Pesto was an asshole, but he hadn't expected him to be homophobic or to not accept his own son's sexuality.
"I-I'm sorry," Bob said awkwardly. "Did… why did you want to talk to me about this?"
"Tina told me that, uh, you're not… I know that you're married to Mrs. Belcher, but she said that you aren't straight. I thought you might understand, or at least, uh, you would kind of get it."
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depresseddepot · 7 months
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the hollow places by t kingfisher was fucking terrifying
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demadogs · 1 year
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has any body else had a time in their life where they had excruciating chronic pain and now its better but you barely remember anything from that entire year
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swanlakebaby · 15 days
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— missing you | pjm
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prompt: seeing jimin after long distancing.
⸝⸝ pairing: bf!jimin x fem!reader
⸝⸝ warnings: smut, kissing, teasing, whispering, masturbation, sexting, dom jimin, creampie, multiple rounds, semi fluff jimin, eating out, swallowing, etc.
⸝⸝ word count: 2.3k
⸝⸝ note: this is one of my favorites that ive written so far! it was fun to write out and i tried to do something new if you couldn’t tell. i eventually want to start a series soon but im still trying to figure out the storyline for that. i hope u enjoy!
• ps: my requests are still open. (please make sure to state whether you want your request to include smut or not!)
nsfw, 18+, minors dni
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your phone dings , your screen lighting up. you roll over and lazily grab your phone , perking up once you realize it's another notification from jimin. you sit up in the bed and look at the chat.
★ jimin - i miss you so much...
★ jimin - i keep thinking of all things i'll do to you when i get back.
you smile at the message , laying back down on the bed. you stare at the screen for a while as you think of a response. but before you could answer , another message comes through.
★ jimin - i hate this time of year. we're always working on music , which i love , but it means i have to spend time away from you for a few weeks. don't you hate it too?
☆ you - i miss you too ! i hate how cold the other side of the bed is. when are you coming home? :(
★ jimin - soon , i promise.
you grin , suddenly excited about the idea of seeing jimin. hou sit up on your knees and slowly lift your tank top. you go to the camera app and flip the camera toward you , snapping photos of your breasts. you go back to the chat and send the picture. you watch as jimin types , then stops some time after the picture is sent.
★ jimin - you look amazing. i can't wait to touch you again.
a message comes through shortly after. a picture of jimin slouched back onto his bed , his shirt and pants off. the visual of his abs and boxers made your mouth water.
for the rest of the night , you spent the entire time messaging jimin back and forth about random things. plans you had coming up , small date ideas , etc. the conversation then takes a turn as jimin goes inactive for a while. you continuously message him until coming to the conclusion that he had fallen asleep on accident. after a while , you receive a video clip from jimin. you click to watch it , unsure do what to expect.
in the same slouched position , jimin rubs his hand over his boxers , his bulge now visible. he slowly slides his hands in his boxers and takes out his cock. he was hard , firmly wrapping his hand around himself as he pans the camera up. he smirks , before lowering the angle once again. he begins to pump his cock , whimpering and moaning into the camera as he speeds up and slows down. he mumbles your name into the camera as his body stiffens , white fluids spilling out over his chest. he grunts , aggressively pumping out all of his cum until he’s empty. he let's go of his cock tiredly and shows the cum on his hand and abs.
after watching the video , you only wished he could come home sooner. in response , you lay on your back fully. panning the camera up and down your body. at this point , you only had on panties and a thin tank top. you play with your breasts in the camera for a few moments before flipping it and propping your legs up. you take two fingers and slide them down your panties. you begin recording yourself as you intensely finger yourself , the wet sounds from your vagina getting stickier.
your panties have a dark patch on them as you begin to throb and soak through them. you play with yourself for a while until eventually , your legs begin to get shaky as you throw your head back and moan into an orgasm. your body shakes as you slide your fingers deeper into you. panting , you take your fingers out and show the camera. your fingers were sticky and glossy now. you flipped the camera onto yourself and recorded yourself cleaning them up with your tongue , one of jimin's favorite things he loved seeing you do.
jimin immediately calls you after receiving the video. ''i miss you.'' was all he said. ''then come home. please.'' you whisper into the phone. without saying a word , he hangs up. you giggle , knowing that he hated being teased and now he probably had an attitude. you quickly clean yourself up and decide to finally head to sleep. the orgasm gave you a wave of uncontrollable sleepiness and you wanted nothing more than to go to bed and decided that you’d continue the conversation with jimin tomorrow.
-
you feel the other side of the bed shift as someone slides in next to you. you immediately open your eyes , making sure that it wasn’t some perverted intruder. upon seeing him , you jump into his arms as you yell out his name. “jimin!” he chuckles , pulling you into a warm embrace. he sways you as he buries his face into your neck , giving it small pecks. “i missed you so much! why are you here? how did you even get here? it feels like i just talked to you!” your heart was fluttering as the person you loved and cared about so much was literally right in front of you. he looked into your eyes deeply before speaking. “as soon as i heard the whispering , i booked my ticket and began packing. i decided to leave early.”
you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. he left his job early to come surprise you and see you. you didn’t know how to feel. “i love you so much!” you beamed. “show me.” he says , leaning back onto the bed. “you just got here.” you say , pushing at his chest. “i don’t like being teased , you know this. so show me how much you love and missed me.” he bites his lip , looking you up and down. you roll your eyes , not taking him seriously. as you attempt to get off of him , he grabs onto your waist and pulls you onto his lap. “jimin let me go.” you whine , looking out at the morning sky. he chuckles , gripping onto your waist tightly , not budging at all.
you wrap your arms around him , smiling at him. “you’re so annoying.” you mumble. “what was that?” jimin says , smirking. you hide a smile and look down. “why are you being shy?” he whispers. lifting your chin up with his index finger. you giggle nervously , unsure of what to say. “it’s been a while that’s all.”
“then let me take the lead , okay?” he gently pushes you onto your back and pushes his bulge against your thin previously soaked panties from the video. he hums as he recognizes them , pushing himself deeper against you. “i know exactly what i want to do to you.” he says in a whisper. suddenly , he grabs you and lifts you off of the bed , walking you over to the windows of your shared apartment. he stands behind you , kissing your shoulders and rubbing the sides of your body. jimin pauses for a moment , standing extremely close to the right side of your face. “will you let me show you how much i missed you?” he whispers into your ear. chills run through your body as you get excited. you don’t say anything , but you nod , giving him the go ahead. “i need words.” he says in a low voice , playing with the sides of your panties. “show me jimin.” you say.
with that that he slides down your panties , getting on his knees as he brings them all the way down to your ankles. he holds onto your butt cheeks , slowly spreading them apart as he shoves his face into them , licking your vagina in a slow pace. you place your hands onto the windows , arching your back slightly as jimin repeatedly eats at your vagina , leaving small pecks on your folds. you lift your leg a bit and jimin holds it steady. he devours you in a way you’ve never see him before. you wonder how long he’s been waiting to do this. you slowly grind against his face , small moans escaping your lips everytime his tongue grazes your clit. he then stands up and begins taking off his shirt and pants , wasting no time at all. he takes out his cock immediately and rubs himself hard.
he pushes you up against the windows , holding onto your head. he slides inside of you , not allowing you to fully adjust to the length of him. he thrusts in and out of you hungrily , grunting as your butt smacks against his lower waist. “i missed you so much.” he says out of breath , not slowing down the pace. you turns your face to face his , holding onto your neck as you stare deeply into each others eyes. you bite your lips and manage to spit out a “i missed you too.” in between breathless moans. you leave your left hand on the window , taking your right one and holding the side of his face as he pounds you aggressively , not considering the fact that neighbors could probably hear.
after a few moments , jimin stops , pulling out and cumming all over your ass. you turn your head to look as you attempt to catch your breath. he smacks your butt , making it jiggle slightly. he then grabs you and walks you over to the end of the bed. he bends you over the small bed bench. you hold onto the bench , half of your body keeping you steady on the floor , the other half of the bench. jimin holds onto your sides , fucking you. he looks over to the bedroom mirror , running his hands through his hair as he admires the view. the cum on your ass begins dripping down slowly , some of it getting messy and sticking onto jimin.
he looks down and watches his cock slide in and out of you in a fast pace as he fucks you. he grabs onto your shirt and pulls it , using it to keep his pace consistent. “i’m gonna cum again..” jimin mumbles , gripping onto you tightly. the phrase alone makes you throb , your knees buckle as the sensation of orgasming overcomes you. your body twitches as you cum all over jimin’s dick , making a sticky white mess.
small beads of sweat slide down jimin’s chest and abs. he slams into you with one final trust , not pulling out as he fills you up with his cum. you curse under his breath , feeling his cum drip out of you and into the bench. your body felt weak and tired.
jimin slides out of you and steps back. he walks over to the dresser and grabs a few napkins. he begins slowly wiping you clean , making sure to also clean up his cock. you lay there out of breath , your vagina feeling exhausted and sore. jimin teases you , rubbing his fingers along your vagina. you jolt forward , the nerves in your clit extra sensitive now. he chuckles at his , smacking your butt and helping you up off of the bench. he sits down , pulling you on top of him. his cock is still hard. you reach behind you and grab onto it , slowly stroking it. he closes his eyes and throws his head back slightly as his tip feels sensitive. without warning , you lift yourself up and slide his cock into you. he groans , opening his eyes and placing his hands around your waist. “break please.” jimin mumbles , feeling tired.
“it’s my turn.” you say. he hides a smile , leaning back and resting his back against the bed. you put your hands on his shoulders and slowly grind on him. you continue this motion for a while , looking down at jimin as he looks up at you , his eyes half lidded. he can barely muster out a moan as he just lays back and enjoys the feeling of your vagina once again. you prop yourself up on your feet and grip onto jimin’s shoulders , bouncing on his cock like never before. jimin perks up , load moans escaping his mouth. he dirty talks you , teasing you to go faster and harder on his cock.
he suddenly pushes you off , grabbing you and putting you to your knees. you open your mouth , staring up at jimin and begging him to cum for you. he grabs his cock and slaps his tip against your tongue a few times before cum starts to spill out into your mouth. once he finishes , his cock goes limp as he tries to catch his breath. he looks down at you and closes your mouth with your jaw. “swallow it.” he demands. his cum is silky and sweet as it slides down your throat. you do as he says , grabbing onto his cock and cleaning up a bit more. you teasingly begin pumping him again. he swats your hands and laughs , plopping down onto the bed bench.
“if we go again i’ll pass out.” jimin says. “but i missed you.” you kiss his jawline , wanting more. he chuckles and smiles , not taking you serious. “i need to rest before we do anything else.” you give him one final peck on the lips before standing up and grabbing a new pair of panties to wear. when you walk back into the room , jimin lays naked in the bed , drifting off to sleep. “did i put you to sleep?” you tease. he smirks. “i did most of the work. i deserve a break” he extends his arm and reaches out for you. you slide into the bed beside him and rest your head on his chest , listening to his breathing as he slowly falls asleep.
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written by swanlakebaby™
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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year
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fuck your inhibition. | k. bakugou
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♢ tags ; very big age gaps (19 years), questionable ethics, ex deliquent / runaway reader (22), fighting / violence, brief mentions of living on the streets, retired pro-hero bakugou (41), emotionally charged sex, afab + masc!reader, top!reader, bottom bakugou, reader is really rough around the edges, backstory for reader, arguing, oral (both receiving),rimming (m!recieving), strap-ons (not a dom thing. no particular power dynamics), prone-bone, dirty talk, size difference (reader is smaller but no specifics), happy endings sort of.
no explicitly gendered terms for reader. usage of words like clit / cunt for readers body parts. reader is implied bisexual.
(also while this fic is certainly intended to be read as masc., it can just as easily be read as completely gn.)
♢ wc ; 10.2k (two days. this is so alarming)
♢ a/n ; happy birthday to my favorite guy. sorry in advance. this fic is so disgustingly self-indulgent. str8 self-inserty ngl. i simply dont want to look at it djskfgdf. this fic is pretty tame tho age gap aside. been a while since ive written for him. title is from "lemme know" by vince staples
♢ synopsis ; who knew that the boudoir pictures you've been getting off too your whole life would look so much better in person?
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You’re not convinced there’s any way to get used to getting your lights knocked out. 
At this point, your fighting prowess is good enough that you can dodge swings from even heavy handed opponents. Just agile enough to bob and weave. Your reflexes are good too, from years of getting into with cops or otherwise. So getting absolutely dusted in a single, swift motion is not a frequent occurrence. 
That’s why you are sorely caught off guard when it happens to you in the back of an alleyway, tucked into a corner of Osaka—a long ways from home.
You were fucked from the minute you stepped foot off the train; you knew that instinctively. You haven’t been back in years and it’s not like you’re here for leisure. And sure, you took the job knowing there was some possibility you’d run into some old foes but shit. They couldn’t’ve waited till the week was over? 
3 days in and your life as a runaway comes back to bite you in the ass. Worse, they catch in front of the very storefront you were  working up the nerve to visit at the end of the week. If that old man catches you 1. making a ruckus in front of his cherished bakery and 2. fighting like those “worthless punks” that he openly detests, he’s definitely gonna be on your ass.
It’s amidst conflict, you decide to take the beating and wait it out. Hopefully, whatever higher power is looking over you will let you get out without busting your lip. 
But fuck, this last hit is leaving you worse for wear. You blink your eyes open and you’re still surrounded by him and his bunch of goons. What was this dudes name again…? Aka…Aka-something, you think. Without warning, you get another punch, a clean left-hook  - this time to your side. You cough at the sensation. 
Ah, life is so unfair to you. 
He grabs you by the front of your collar, dragging you upwards until you’re nose to nose. This fuckers breath is hot. Something warm slips down your nose, a rivulet of blood over your lips. You grunt. 
“I should’ve beat the shit out of you the first time.” 
You blink slowly as you regain your vision and sense. Despite many transgressions and altercations, your time in Osaka as a fugitive is notable. This bunch of fiends are a somewhat half-assed motorbike gang. It’s an old story. You stole and ruined  not one, not two, but four of their bikes total. In your defense you were a young kid scrounging for change - hotwiring and deconstructing for parts was always  pretty profitable. And stealing flashy bikes was a hell of a lot easier than scratching up your knees in the scrap yard. 
Ah, there was that other thing too. Why you’re pretty sure this guy has held such a grudge against you for god knows how long. Irritable with a bad sense of self-preservation, you give up on behaving well. 
“Yeah? No need to sulk now, right?” You grin, hands practically itching to throw him onto the ground. A familiar sense of adrenaline burns in your stomach. You should just hit him, but you don’t - instead opting to aim where you know it’s gonna piss him off most “How’s your little sister by the way?” 
Red flashes in his eyes, nose puffed like a bull. Despite your self-satisfaction, you close your eyes and pray to god he doesn’t actually kill you. There’s still some ass you have to tap before you die and it’d be a real shame to die only inches away. You cover your face when his fist winds up. Riling him up was probably a bad move.
Before you get your lights punched out forreal, an angel comes to rescue you. 
“Oi, you fuckin’ punks—go take this shit somewhere else or I’m gonna singe every last goddamn hair on your head.”
You smile, almost drunk on the adrenaline. An angel, indeed. A cursing, blonde, abrasive angel. 
“Oh, shit—we gotta get outta here. That dude Dynamight doesn’t fuck around”
Before you know it, said group of miscreants disperses like a swarm of flies. You find yourself stumbling back against a bunch of crates, back hitting them and sliding down, snagging in your work clothes. The leader says something about “not being finished with you yet,” but you don’t catch it with how your ears are ringing in your skull.
You rub your eyes and groan, seeing double. When you open them again, your favorite blonde old man is standing in front of you. Arms crossed over his chest, sporting that signature glare you’re so fond of. 
Your head is throbbing. Fuck it hurts. 
You only manage one sentence before promptly blacking out. 
“Did I die and go to heaven?”
— 
You wake up in a familiar bed. 
A bed you spent a lot of time resting in when you were out at on the streets here, something like four  years ago now. The memories of the time aren’t entirely pleasant - being a homeless runaway was pretty shit. But meeting your life long hero (and getting your rocks off in his bed) are quite fond regardless. You’re surrounded by nice, white linen sheets that you’re pretty sure cost more than you make in a month. He’s not really much of a flashy character despite his career, but he does have an eye for the finer things. 
You haven’t been back here in a while. Since moving to a different prefecture, you haven’t had any good reason to come see him. This week was a good excuse for just that. Didn’t exactly plan on it happening like this, but you can’t really win 'em all. You’d consider being back here a win on your part regardless. 
The fact that you’re here instead of molding in the pouring rain means that he dragged you up there by himself. A fact you try not to put too much stock into, because he’s still a pro even if he’s retired. What makes it hard not to feel giddy about it is the fact you’re all cleaned up. Bandaged wounds and all, he even took off your shoes. Jeez, he’s gonna kill you one of these days acting so cute. 
You turn to lay on your back, reaching your hand to the ceiling and making a fist. Your knuckles are still pretty bruised up but it’s clear he took some time to check over them. You drop your hand down, squeezing a fist over your chest and sighing. You roll over again. 
“Still giving me so many mixed signals.” You say, half in jest, trying not to be too affected by it “Ah, fuck, this is bad. Gonna end up doing something weird just like old times.” 
Before you commit another act of degeneracy in the bed of your long time crush and childhood hero, you sit up with your legs over the edge. He took your pants off too, a pair of boxers hung low on your hips. Your back is fucking killing you. 
You stand to your feet, scratching the back of your neck as you turn to examine yourself in the mirror. You pull your tank up over your side, a bruise the size of a melon developing on you. It goes from just under your chest all the way down to above your waist. You press your finger to it and wince at the sensation of pain, dull but throbbing so deep in your nerves you can’t help but feel it. 
You examine the rest of you, turning to either side. Work tomorrow is gonna fucking blow, but considering you don’t have any broken ribs - you think it’s not the worst it could be. No stitches either, so a win overall. If the rest of the week passed by silently that’d  be perfect. 
You look around the room for your things. They’re in a neat chair in the corner of the room.  Bakugou’s cat is over there too, asleep on your uniform. You can hear something faint from downstairs, the sound of a T.V. playing. You should drop down there since you’re awake  but you’re reluctant. You wonder if he’ll chase you out since you’re up. If he still has as much of a soft spot for you as he used to, it couldn’t hurt to test your luck. 
You open up the bedroom door and shut it quietly before padding down stairs. 
You end up finding him where you’d expect him.  He’s in the kitchen with an apron on, a fitted gray shirt with a piping bag in hand.
 He looks older every time you see him. His hair isn’t all gray yet but the platinum is starting to turn brilliant white. There’s lines in his face that weren’t always there, even with the scars and fine wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. He’s still as jacked as he used to be, but it’s softened up. Mostly it’s his personality, you find, to be mellow. Only someone with patience could take up such a tedious hobby after an entire life out in the field - killing baddies and chasing thugs and whatever other shit hero’s do. 
It’s kind of ridiculous that he’s piping delicate little designs onto some pastries, but unfortunately for you it only adds to his charm. You lean against the wall coming into the kitchen, in the frame. Half-dressed with your lips quirked up in a coy smile. 
“Whatcha makin’ old man?” 
“Don’t break my concentration you noisy brat,” He says straightforwardly “Sit down and shut up.” 
“So cranky,” You muse,  but ultimately comply, sitting at a chair on the kitchen island. Looks like he’s on his last round of whatever he’s making. 
You get by on staring at him. It’s pretty typical for you even now. Sitting here in front of him doesn’t feel as awkward as you expected, which is worth something. When he’s finally finished, he puts the piping bag on the counter and wipes his forehead with the back of his arm. 
“Permission to speak, sarge?” You ask, sarcastically. He frowns at you. 
“Not granted.” 
“Cold as ever huh,” You say, leaning your elbow on the counter - palm on your cheek “Thought distance was supposed to make the heart grow fonder?” 
“That only counts if there’s fondness in the first place.” He says with ease. This time you scoff at him, but he cuts you off before you get a chance to reply “You wake up with any pain?” 
“Worry about yourself, you old bastard,” You say impudently. You see the corners of his lips twitch as he stares at you “‘m fine. Got a nasty bruise on my side but my ribs aren’t broken. Work tomorrow is gonna suck.” 
“That why you’re back here?” 
“For about a week, yeah.” 
“Confidential?” 
You shake your head and lean back. 
“Nah. Bodyguarding some rich dude’s kid. Birthday tomorrow. Spent the first two days being a lousy maid but the pay is good so I can’t complain.” 
“Shit. The party is tomorrow? I have an order for tomorrow.” 
“Guess you’re not senile yet, old man.” 
“Fuck off,” Bakugou says, not bothering to hide to his expression “How old’s the kid?
“A little younger than me I’d guess. 19 or so.” 
“Isn’t this a good opportunity to get laid?” He suggests like he’s purposefully trying to irritate you. He already knows how you feel. Why he insists on pretending is beyond you but it never fucking fails to piss you off. 
You shoot him a glare. 
“Nevermind. You’re definitely senile. Might wanna try some puzzle games to keep your shit in tact before you start peeing in public and buying ten pairs of the same pants.” 
“You’re still just as mouthy as I remember.” 
“Learned from the best.” 
A comfortable silence settles as a weird feeling overtakes you. Fuck, you’re still pining your youth away after all this time. Maybe getting laid would fix some of your issues, but no one is gonna hold a candle to having the real thing. You rub your temple in preemptive apprehension. Bakugou starts working on cleaning up the kitchen, and you resign yourself to thinking about what you’re gonna do. 
It catches you off-guard when he talks to you first. 
“Earlier,” He says, opening up the fridge to rearrange it “Why weren’t you fighting back?” 
You don’t know whether you want to laugh or cry hearing him ask. You don’t feel like softening the blow with your usual shit, so you give it to him straight. 
“It doesn’t suit a tactical genius to play dumb, old man.” 
He stiffens, then sighs. 
“Still hung up on that, huh.” 
Oh now you’re gonna get pissed. 
“Don’t.” You warn, low and indifferent. He sighs, sliding a tray into the fridge and “Don’t piss me off, alright?” 
“Hey. You shitty punk. When are you gonna get it through your thick skull I’m doing this for your fucking sake? Stop—”
“Next time, just leave me in the rain.” You seethe, venom in your voice, making you numb and agitated. He stops, breath hitching “I don’t give a shit if you’re a retired  hero. I’m serious. Leave me out in the alley next time if you’re gonna pull the mentor act again..”
Man this sucks. 
Not like you were expecting some heart warming love story out of a guy like him but still. You didn’t think he wouldn’t budge at all. You can feel yourself getting angry just thinking about it. It might’ve been better not to come. Mentor or not, his whole dismissal never fails to annoy you to your core. You knew that before the week started he might be like this. Maybe if shit went your way - you could’ve had a regular reunion. But now, he just had to see you getting beat up on purpose and he just had to fucking ask about it. 
Seriously, where’s his decorum? Prick. 
“Kid.” 
“Don’t—I needa get outta here. I shouldn’tve—fuck, this blows.”
You stand to your feet before you have a chance to look back. You feel kind of pathetic running away again but it’s still the preferable option to having this fight a second time. It’s something you’re just too sensitive about to deal with head on. Getting rejected twice by the guy you’ve been in love with since you were nineteen is bound to fuck you up abs you don’t have it in you not to drink yourself into a fit. 
So you’re practically running up the stairs, but you can hear him calling behind you. You go into the bedroom to get your things and Bakugou follows you into it predictably, shutting the door.  You turn around to him, annoyed. 
“Get outta my way.” 
“No. Not while you’re all pissy. Gonna get yourself hit by a car.” 
“What’d I just say about cooling it with the mentor act, man?” 
“It’s not a fuckin’—it’s not an act.” He says, with a sigh that almost makes you feel bad, “I haven’t seen you in two years.” 
“Two years is nothing. Old age is making you soft,” You scoff, arms crossed over your chest “But I don’t need your sympathy. My feelings haven’t changed.” 
“Kid.” 
“I’m not a kid anymore, alright? Cleaned my act up, got a job and a license and a place. Haven’t slept in a cell in two years. Been off the streets that whole time just like you told me to do.  The least you could do is take me seriously.” 
“I didn’t want you to do that shit for me. I wanted you to do it for you.” 
“Too bad,” You reply back almost immediately, pinching the bridge of your nose “Save your lecture for the next injured bird you raise up and leave me out of it.” 
“I’m trying to put you on the right path, you ungrateful little jackass. Don’t act like—“
“Spare me the goddamn lecture.” 
There’s a quiet silence befalls the both of you. Shit is going nowhere fast and you both know it, Bakugou as much as you do. Memories of your last argument come back to you almost instantly. 
After you turned eighteen, you were run out of the orphanage you’d spent part of your adolescence at. It’s a pretty regular sob story and you’re quite the sad sap. A dead mom in Mustafu and an absent father. You had a strong quirk, and hell maybe if you grew up different - you could’ve been a hero. 
Shit didn’t  work out that way, so at 11 you were thrown to the wolves. It’s not a fun time to look back on and you figure there’s no use thinking about the past. You did whatever you had to to survive which mostly meant being in and out of orphanages and running away whenever the next worthless schmuck tried to take advantage of you. You always got away by the skin of your teeth, and made money doing whatever you could. If it put food on the table, you’d have probably done it at least once.
It’s something of a cliche, but Dynamight was your idol. You liked that he wasn’t like other heroes. He was crass and hardcore and liked to talk shit. He was cool. You spent a lot of time hanging around T.V. stores watching him through the glass, watching interviews on your first hand-me-down phone. Even though he didn’t really have the tragic backstory, you always thought he was courageous and honest. 
A celebrity crush and idol combined, you stole more of his pin-up magazines than you’re entirely comfortable with. A lot of them you still own, shoved into the back of your closet. 
Once you’d turned 18, your life of petty crime had brought you all the way down to Osaka. It was also the worst year of your life. Social agencies seem to get off on tossing kids into the streets as soon as they can and with a criminal record like yours, there wasn’t a whole lot you could do. 
You spent the first 6 months knee deep in all sorts of shit. That’s when you ran into that biker gang for the first time. You hung around bars and slept with strangers for a place to sleep. A lot of bad shit happened and it wasn’t getting any easier. 
It was a cold, rainy day when you met Dynamight for the first time. The worst day of your life, more accurately. You got mugged and lost your job all in the same few hours and you were pretty sure god himself was spitting at your face. 
But it wasn’t all bad. Cheesy as it sounds, meeting your hero was worth the trouble. 
He was different off camera. That was the first thing you thought when you talked to him. He had a softer way of speaking and he was weirdly perceptive. He didn’t talk much, either - at least not at first. You spent a lot of time in comfortable silence. The first time, you didn’t do much more than share a meal. He asked you about your life. He gave you money for a hotel too. The only thing you could think to do was ask when you could see him again. 
He was 36 at the time. Hadn’t retired yet, either. 
That was the beginning of your long relationship. To this day, you don’t know why he decided to involve himself with you. It’s a mystery you’ve yet to get answers for and maybe you never will. Sure he was a hero, but you’re sure he’s seen a lot worse. Why take pity on you in particular? Whenever you ask him about it, he usually just scoffs. Sometimes he’ll tell you that you reminded him of someone. Who that person could be is lost on you even now.
It was a gradual relationship. You were young and persistent, but he never turned you away either. Sure he’d been a good influence, but stopping a life of crime wasn’t easy. You got arrested for some months after meeting. Bakugou took you in when you were 19 and homeless - let you stay with him. He retired at 37, opening up a bakery in Osaka. The place you’re staying in now is just over it. The same one you spent two years of your life falling in love with the old bastard. 
It was hard not too. You’d admired him for a long time, and he managed to supercede your low expectations. It wasn’t the first time you fell in love but it was definitely the strongest sensation. You tried to ignore it for a while but that didn’t work out for shit either. 
You confessed to him on your 20th birthday. Made a whole big deal with flowers and candles and shit. And again - it’s not like you were expecting romance out of the motherfucker. A flat-out rejection would’ve sufficed. 
But…that wasn’t what you got either. 
The whole reason for your fight wasn’t just because he didn’t have feelings for you. He made it a whole big fucking deal trying to tell you about your feelings. That you needed to get your shit together and grow up and that it was a phase that you’d grow out of. That he “really cares about you, kid” and that he’s just trying to do what was right by you as an adult. 
(“You’ve got no idea what the fuck I’m like either. Been through some tough shit and you latched onto me, alright? So don’t go wastin’ your time.”) 
You don’t really give a fuck about how old he is or about his status. None of it matters to you in the slightest. What was pissing you off all that time was him not taking you seriously after everything you’d been through together. Trying to tell you would fucking grow out of it and that it was a waste. You got into an argument after that, and like you’ve been doing your whole life - you ran away. Back to Shizuoka where you started to get your life together. 
Hit the books and studied your ass off, graduating late from a night school and then picking up a vocational school to fall back on. Some old connections got you a job in security and you bounced from place to place in the meanwhile. You even got your license and bought a beat-up cruiser that you fix-up when you have the chance. 
You grew up so to speak. You came back here trying to prove that. Being dismissed so fucking quickly makes you feel rage beyond reason so you’re trying to step back. Seriously, two fucking years and nothing. Not even a pity “I’m proud of you.” 
“Just admit it,” You sneer, inching closer to him “It’s not about any of that shit, is it?”
He widens his eyes as you stalk towards him.
“The fuck are you—“
“Don’t play stupid. You feel guilty, right? Feel all wound up cause you know it’s not nothing. This isn’t nothing”
This time he goes silent. Fucking bullseye.
“You thought I forgot? How you kissed me all tipsy? Thought I didn’t notice you looking?”
Oh it feels good to let it all out. He shrinks, this time unable to say anything. You both know it’s true. 
“Look—“ He puts hands on your shoulders as you back him into the wall “You’re too fucking young for all this. And about me, you don’t know—”
You lean into him, face inches apart. You already know what he’s gonna tell you, almost word for word. Trying to maintain some innocence you hardly have anything left of. 
“You sure? I heard you through those walls plenty of times. You take dick like a champ.” 
“Shut the hell up. This is for your own good, we can’t do this.”
You can hardly believe he’s still being like this. 
“I used to know you were home. When I brought people over,” You whisper low against his skin. His eyes widen “You heard me too, I’m sure. So, be honest Mr. Dynamight, you think I can’t give you what you want or are you too afraid to find out?”
“You’re such a fucking punk.” He grits out. Still not denying your words. 
“That’s right,” You muse, words heated and heavy “I’m a worthless street punk trying to fuck the old man upstairs ‘cause I don’t know any better.” 
It’s not the first time you’ve kissed Bakugou in your life. The first time was when you came over to his place tipsy. In front of all the other pro-heros you had admired so much. It’s different this time. Not only are you both shockingly sober, there’s an aggression in it that wouldn’t be there before. No matter how begrudging he acts, he’s still kissing you back just as hard as you’d expect him too. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be, arms wrapped around your neck. Fuck he’s still so huge. How much does he work out to still be this jacked?
You can’t even imagine how that’s gonna look when you finally get to fuck him. Shit, just thinking about it sends electricity through your spine. You groan a little into his mouth, your hands tucked on his nape and tugging at the fine hairs. You push your incisors into his lower lip and tug, pulling away just slightly to intake how fucking flushed he is.
 He looks like a pornstar,
You pull away, hand cupping his jaw and forcing his mouth open. You’re gonna lose it if you stare too long. 
“You’re so fucking sexy.” 
“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” He mumbles. You laugh lightly at him. 
“Your cocky attitude is pretty sexy too,” You hum, amused. You kiss him one more time, hands reaching for the thickest part of his waist. He’s built like a trunk, but his reactions are almost girlish. The contrast is making you twitch. 
“Can’t say the same for you.” He spits. Your grin splits your face as you pull away from him, teeth nipping at his jaw. You can feel the scruff of his skin, unshaved as you let your tongue travel over it. 
“Aw, what? You don’t think I’m sexy.” You nudge a knee between his legs feeling the half-hard outline of his cock. You shudder “You sure about that?” 
“What the hell are they feeding brats like you?” 
“Liquor and cigarettes.” 
“Since when do you smoke?” 
“Helps me relax after work,” You whisper against the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the lobe before “I get pretty stressed out. Sure you know something about that.” 
“Hngh, fuck. Fuck you.” 
“Do you even know how? Not like that thing gets much use, huh?” 
You reach down to cup his cock through his jeans, hard against the palm of your hand. He pushes his hips up slightly, sharpened glare. He pants. 
“You sound, shit, so fucking sure.” 
“I am sure. I’m looking to fuck you, not the other way around. Not sure how that’s gonna work since I don’t got my stuff on me.” 
You’re not sure what you’re expecting him to say. This whole thing is feeling like a fever dream you can’t wake up out of. Maybe he’ll give you a suggestion on what else to do.. But instead of that, a blush crawls onto his face. It leaves you floored. He looks away from you. 
“...Your shits still where you left it.” 
It takes you a second to register what he means. When you do, you can feel your brows hit your fucking hairline. There’s no way he’s saying what you think he is. 
“You’re shitting me.” 
“Shut the fuck up. I thought you’d come to pick it back up but you never did, and I went to go move it into some boxes. I didn’t have any reason to toss it.” 
A thought crosses into your mind. 
“Hey. Old man. Where is it?” 
He stares at you. You grasp onto him firmer, making him gasp. You can feel how heavy his cock is in your hands, rubbing it through the cloth of his sweats. You whisper harsh into his ears. 
“If I open your goddamn drawer right now, tell me, am I gonna find my old strap in it? Clean and getting use? You been fucking yourself with the thing I used to lay dick with?” 
When he doesn’t answer, pure glee ignites in you. He can’t answer, apparently. But his face is a harsh, permanent red now and his cock is painfully hard. You want to rail him into the fucking floor just for that. You wouldn’t make up some shit like that in your wildest dreams, so the fact that he’s not denying it makes your insides feel like they’re melting. You rub yourself against him, feeling how slick and hard your clit is just thinking about it. 
“Go lay down.” 
“Are you telling me what to do?” 
You grab his ass as hard as you can before landing a hit on it that makes him nearly topple over. Even though he’s bigger than you in more ways than one, he reacts like that. His anger only lasts so long before it morphs into want. 
“Of course I am. And you’re gonna listen.” 
“What makes you so sure about that, huh? You think you can satisfy me?” 
“You think you’re gonna intimidate me into backing down? After knowing you fuck your tight little ass to the thought of me? Fat chance.” 
“I didn’t say anything like that.” 
You laugh “You implied it. Now go lay down. Where’s your lube?” 
He frowns at you. 
“In the same drawer.” 
You give him a knowing grin to which he shoves your face away. Ultimately though he listens to you, lying and making himself comfortable in the sheet as you grab whatevers in his little sex drawer. He wasn’t kidding about the strap, the lube seated next to it. You grab both quickly and join him, hovering over him. 
You opt not to talk, slowing your pace to appreciate the view. You think he’s says something. Asks about what you’re doing and why - but you tune the words out as you run your hands over the curves of his body. He’s a wall of fucking muscle, his arms especially with a torso just tight enough for you to grab. The fabric of his shirt doesn’t leave much for imagination, but you’re still overwhelmed as you pull it up over his waist, his chest, his arms. The fabric comes loose and it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. You’ve got plenty of porn mags in your back pocket and even more boudoir shoots from him that you’ve stared at for hours. 
But seeing it in person is completely different. You can see the rise and fall of his chest - the raised skin of a scar and plenty of over scratches and wounds. Fuck, he is so sexy and you are so drunk on lust you almost feel sick. 
“Somethin’ catch your eye?” 
His voice draws you out of the trance you're in, a lazy smirk spread on his face. You laugh. 
“I get why you’re such a show-off,” This time you lean forward to kiss him - a hand wrapped around his throat, spare going to grab his chest. His tits are soft, they look like hard muscle and sinew but the fat is squished in your palms to perfectly for that���Fuck.” 
“You’re acting like a horny teenager.” He says flatly.  
“Been thinking about fucking you that long, so I guess so.” 
“Are you serious?” 
“Why’re you so shocked?” You make work kissing down his neck slowly, down his chest, one tweaking his nipple while your mouth makes work on the other one He swears above you, another wave of heat pulsing in your body “Don’t you hear shit like that all the time?” 
“Shit that feels—I didn’t think you were, hngh—serious.” 
“Obviously not. I still have all your slutty ass photos in my apartment somewhere.” 
He pants. Makes the prettiest fucking sounds for you as you grope and squeeze and touch his body. You bite, hard, into his tits leaving a red mark of teeth that makes him shudder. You need to do it all over again. 
“Haah, fuck. What the fuck?” 
“You’re way sexier in person if that’s worth anything,” You groan, a shudder passing through you “Like way sexier.” 
He looks like he wants to say something to you but the words die in his mouth. You laugh as you peer over him. His reactions are fucking adorable. Face is hot with a flush, watery eyes. Pretty. As much he’s rugged and strong and downright handsome, he is annoyingly fucking pretty. Having him underneath you is making all the power go to your head. Nothing feels more appealing to you right now than the idea of wrecking him completely. 
You kiss down his body until you’re at his waist, taking his pants off unceremoniously. You have half a mind to rip them but you’re sure they’re expensive. He lifts his legs for you anyways, leaving a tight pair of boxers that leave nothing for the imagination at all. 
“What the fuck,” You mumble, getting face to face with it. You pull the boxers off slowly, kissing his hip as you do. His cock pops out slowly as you pull it down. What an asshole. His dick is impossibly big too. A tuft of well trimmed blonde hairs sit neat at the base and the tip is a harsh red. There’s a little drop of pre-cum dribbling down the shaft that makes your brain feel fuzzy. It’s veiny too, tight balls sitting net at the base. 
Another shiver wracks through you, as you reach your hand out to touch it tentatively. He groans sharply. You stick your tongue out, licking up from base to tip. He tastes of salt and skin, but it isn’t bad. You let your tongue lick at the slit, elated looking at him squirm underneath you. 
“Nice dick.” You say back plainly. He snorts. 
“Fuck off.” 
‘’m serious,” You add, letting your eyes lid to look more serious “I don’t blow just anyone.” 
You open your mouth wide, pulling lips over teeth as you ease the tip slowly. It’s hot. Hard as steel and intrusive against your tongue, you can feel it throb. Pulsing relentlessly, you lower yourself onto it slowly - taking as much in as you can. It’s difficult and messy, tongue out to cover as much as you can. You suction your mouth slowly, hollowing your cheeks. There’s something that feels so good about having him in your mouth, something even better about watching the faces of pleasure he makes above you. 
You hum in appreciation and the vibrations prove to be too much as he nearly thrusts his dick into your throat. You brace yourself for it happening again - setting an even pace. He looks good like that, drowned in pleasure and unsure of what to do with himself. You wonder if it’s been a while since he’s acting so fucking cute about it. You assume as much. 
What he said before, you wonder if he was picturing it. If he felt guilty about it. The idea of him jerking off in shame over the thought of his dick in your mouth makes your spine tingle. You cup his balls in your hand, squeezing gently as you get into a steady rhythm. You feel him above you trying to hold it all in, the muscles in his abdomen tightening each time you manage to get down further. It’s hard to breathe, the back of your throat feels narrow. Your skin is on fire. 
“Fuck, fuck—where’d you learn how to—fuck!” 
You feel him getting ready to cum, so you pull off swiftly. A delicious, needy whine comes out of his throat that leaves you mesmerized. 
“What the hell?” He mumbles, heaving. You laugh. 
“Hey,” You hum, lifting his hips until you can see his hole - pink and twitching “Every had someone eat your ass?” 
“Are you offering?” 
“Yeah.” You say back, kissing the insides of his thighs, gripping the muscle “I wanna know if it feels good for you.” 
For whatever reason, this statement in particular makes his skin tinge pink. You hold back a laugh internally. 
“So fucking weird.” 
“Is that a no?” 
“Do whatever you want.” 
You chuckle at that. You sink your teeth into him again, this time working on the build up. His muscles give tension to your incessant biting, hard bone against muscle as you mark up his thick thighs. His ass is nice like you’d expect, tight and muscular. You work your way towards his hole slowly, thumb circling the tight ring of muscle first to gauge his reaction. He shudders, making you hold back a laugh.
“Kinda sensitive,” You say amused. You can feel him glaring without having to look “You can’t cum without it now, right?” 
You’re mostly saying it in jest but the prolonged silence leaves you at a loss for words. Your eyes snap up at him, watching him huff and puff in embarrassment. Heat rolls through your body. 
“It’s not like I fucking can’t ever, alright?” 
“You’re too cute for your own good.” 
“Don’t fucking call me cute you shitty little brat.” 
“But you’re acting kinda adorable, old man,” You say slyly. You stick your tongue out, licking a long stripe against him. He shakes “Blushing up a fucking storm. Been a while?” 
“Not really.” 
“Oh, so it’s just ‘cause it’s me then?” 
He looks like a fucking cherry. You laugh. 
“To think you were so against it. How’d you hide your expressions that long? Did it help you to masturbate to the thought of me fucking you?” 
“Would you shut up?” 
“I don’t feel like it.” 
Before he can scold you any more, you let your tongue slip against the exposed rim. The reaction is tentative at first, slow licks trying to gauge if this is something he’s even into. You do it again and again, burying yourself deep. He makes a noise that you recognize to be a muffled moan. You groan in appreciation, repeating the action - letting yourself dip into the tightness of it. You can feel the muscles of his body go taut as you grip him - hands over the tops of his thighs. The action is more shameless the longer you let yourself indulge.
You’ll have to fuck him open anyways before you actually get on top. You think doing this much will make everything easier. Mostly you’re doing it because you like seeing him embarrassed. The gap in appearance vs expression never gets old. Seeing like this repeatedly proves to be novel and fuck knows if he’s gonna let you do it again any time soon. You’re more than determined to squeeze out every last ounce of his pride. 
You want to see everything. 
And frankly, pleasuring him like this is driving you all kinds of crazy. Not like you’ve ever been a selfish lover. Always aiming to please or whatever. But he’s got such a raw fucking sex appeal looking the way he does it’s making you drip. You’re pretty damn sure you’ve soaked through everything you have on and you’re not sure how much longer you’re gonna make it without touching yourself. 
It’s all material you’re committing to memory, either way. If anyone saw him like this, you’re pretty sure they’d fall head over heels just like you. It’s hard not to give him everything he’s ever wanted Not to want to fuck him within an inch of his life, just to see his big muscular frame curl in on itself. He’d look so good all messed up, all knotted with pleasure. 
You can feel it again this time, another wave of desire that makes his cock twitch. You wrap your finger around the shaft, holding it around his balls so he doesn’t cum without asking you. He lets out a noise of disapproval that you ignore, pulling your mouth away. Pre-cum dribbles out of tip. You use your finger to swipe it up and lick it. 
He looks scandalized. 
“Not bad. You eat clean huh.” 
“You’re going to kill me someday.” 
“You’re too young and too healthy to die.” 
He makes a face of disapproval at you. You toss him the lube before grabbing the strap. 
“Think you can work yourself open for me tough guy? Normally, I’d do it myself. Edge you out nice and slow, get you all soft. But I’m dying to fuck you already and I wanna make you cum on my cock.”
He looks at you exasperated. 
“Where’d you learn to talk like that?” 
“Casual sex and porn mags. You don’t like it?” 
“It makes you sound your age.” 
“Want me a little more suave? Tell you that I’m gonna make love to you?” 
He snorts. You take off your boxers and sit up on your knees as Bakugou opens the lube in his hands. You watch him idly, mostly focusing on wiggling yourself in the harness and making sure it’s comfortable enough to fuck in. 
He takes a deep breath, and you watch him reach between his legs. How it’s difficult since he’s so muscular. You almost want to help him, but instead you get between his legs again. Stood on your knees with a heavy bit of silicone weighing you down. You connect the tip to his, watching him push a finger in slowly. 
“Not if you say it like that.” 
“Having trouble there?” 
“You piece of shit.” 
“A worthless punk or something. C’mon, just say it. Ask me to finger your ass so I can fuck you. Or you want me to say something more delicate?” 
“Fuck, c’mon just, help me already.” 
“What’s the magic word?” 
“....Please, you worthless asshole.” 
You grin, grabbing the lube from the bed and squeezing it into your fingers. You laugh, leaning over him. 
“Got some manners left in you after everything, huh?”
You pull him down towards him by the waist, pulling his legs up. You kiss the inside of his knees, nudging his legs apart as you position your hands, warming the lube between your fingers. He’s surprised by your strength, but you don’t do anything but grin. 
“Keep your legs up for me, yeah?”
He scoffs but doesn’t go against your will. He looks good waiting for you like that, so you don’t take too much time trying to split him open. His hands are thicker than yours, so your first finger slides in like it’s nothing. He’s soft and hot on the inside, and the way he accommodates you lets you know this isn’t the first time he’s done this.
It doesn’t irritate you as much as you think it should. Maybe you’re a little screwed up to think it’s sexy but the idea of him getting fucked at any point is turn on. Once you’re down to the knuckle and you can pump in and out of him easily, you use a second finger to stretch him further. There’s more resistance so you slow, feeling up against his walls for the place you know it’ll feel good. 
You know you find it because his whole body tightens up in front of you. His eyes shoot open and he’s all breathy and fucked out. You relish in it. 
“Right there?” 
He must be feeling good with how little he’s combating you. 
“Y-yeah.” 
You lean forward to plant a kiss on him again but this time it’s tender. He must feel really good because he wraps his arms around your neck to keep you there. You moan in surprise and when you pull back he looks hazed out of his mind.
“Didn’t know you could make a face like that.” You say, amused. He frowns at you. 
“I’m not happy about it either.” 
A laugh falls out of you and you catch the faintest whisper of a smile on his lips that has you kissing the corners of his mouth. He catches himself before he leans into it too easily, but you notice before he can shy away. 
“Looks like I’m making your heart flutter. Forget the ethics for a little and let me.” 
“I should toss you out of a fucking window.” 
“You’re not gonna though.” 
This he doesn’t reply to. You slip a third finger while he’s distracted and he gasps. This time he’s almost stretched completely. You give him a minute to breathe, swallowing up the little sounds he makes with a hearty grin. It’s so fucking good just doing this. Incredible. Way better than you could’ve ever imagined. 
“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you,” You say, bemused. He’s delirious enough to laugh. 
“The stamina of youths scares the hell outta me.” 
“I don’t wanna hear it from a retired pro.” 
This time he grins. You find yourself pleased with the development. 
He’s stretched now, and restless. You pull your hand away and rub the remaining slick onto the tip of your cock, giving him a look. 
“Do you know how you want me?” 
“It’s your fantasy fuck,” He says, semi-sarcastically “Do whatever you want.” 
You laugh, tapping his ass lightly. 
“Turn over and stick your ass up a little.” 
“Don’t wanna see my face?” 
“Wanna see how you swallow my cock up like it’s nothing, more like.” 
He curses under his breath. You feel accomplished. He turns over just like you’ve asked him too and fuck the sight of him is way too much. You can’t get over it. He’s big and strong and trembling with desire and it’s driving your sex-drive as high as it can possibly go. You move so your knees are on either side of his thighs. Leaning forward, you lick up from the small of his spine all the way up his shoulder, before sinking your teeth in the junction in between. 
He groans underneath you, and your hands make themself present around his hips. Most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The fucking arch and the scars and the ruggedness of all of it. 
“You’re damn gorgeous.” You say, with utter and sincere appreciation “It’s driving me fucking crazy.” 
“Save your smooth talk.” 
“I’m bein’ serious,” You say, pulling his ass apart with your palms “Like. Woah.” 
He snorts “Real poetic.” 
“I barely graduated school, asshat.” 
In the midst of your bantering, you let the tip of your cock slip into him slowly. It steals the words of reply out of his mouth in an instant. You can feel him melt underneath you. At the intrusion, at the feeling. At every single sensation. You feel the phantom of it in your spine. Like there’s fireworks in all your nerve-endings, just watching how his ass looks around it. Just the tip with no movement, no adjusting. 
He’s silent, shuddering - holding onto a pillow. A bead of sweat rolls down his spine. He has little dimples in his back. You groan. 
“Shit. Look at you.” 
The praise seems to make him keen. He’s always been one to like the attention. You roll your hips, fucking another inch into him agonizingly slow. He moans like he’s deflating, breathing ragged and voice raw. You rock back and forth until there’s no longer anything to resist, then push in and in and in. 
Once you bottom out with his ass against your pelvis and your hips on the back of his thighs, you lean forward and press your weight on top of him. You think he’s expecting something else, because he seems surprised. But you let yourself weigh upon him, then with a heavy grunt - cup his jaw and tilt his head to kiss him. 
“You like that?” 
“Shut up.” 
“C’mon. Be honest. You look like you like it. Ears turning so red.” 
He groans. 
“In your fucking dreams.” 
“Still not gonna budge huh?” You say. anchoring yourself at his sides with a deep sigh “So stubborn.” 
When you feel stable enough to move, you don’t hesitate to fuck him with all of the expertise you have. You give it to him in just the right way, measure up to where he needs you but don’t give in quite enough. It’s a strenuous affair but you keep it at. A steady pace that’s hard and deep but not good enough to make him cum. Something to leave him on the edge, you fuck him just like that. The sound of skin hitting skin and short, broken moans echo in the room. 
You focus on taking him like that, making sure each and every thrust is precise and calculated until he gets where you want him to be. You can practically feel when it’s starting to really get to him. When he can no longer hold himself up, so resigns to smushing his face against the pillow and going limp. You lean up, moving so you can pull his hips back with you - hovering off the bed on his knees instead of laying on his stomach. 
This time you reach deeper. His whining gets louder, more in tune with everything. You laugh as you reach around him, hands gripping at the base of his cock. It takes patience to unravel him like this, matching your hands to your movements until everything is in a slow, steady synchronization. Fast but not fast enough. Hard, but not hard enough. Close but not close enough. 
He lets out a heady groan that reverberates in his chest, opening his mouth finally. 
“C-c’mon. Just. C’mon.” 
“Aw what?” You say, rolling your hips up against him, where you know he wants you most “What is it, hm? Did you want something?” 
“Fuck. Just. Fuck me already.” 
“I am fucking you, though?” 
“You know what I mean!” 
“Oh, you want me to fuck you harder? Make you cum? I thought you didn’t like it.” 
He groans, dropping against the pillows again. 
“I didn’t say that. C’mon just. Please.” 
His voice is hoarse when he asks. You laugh against his shoulders, listening to his requests. Giving it to him how he needs it. Harder and a little deeper, you can feel it now. How you knock into the place inside him that leaves him trembling and shaking. You can read his cues now, when he starts getting close. But of course it’s not gonna be that easy. 
You keep the pace stand, putting your hand on the tip of his cock. You rub your thumb over the slit and hold it there. He sucks in a breath, whining a little. 
“Wanna cum so bad?” You offer, mouth twisted in a feral grin “Tell me you love me.” 
This knocks the wind out of him. 
“What?” 
“Say you love me with all your heart and I’ll let you cum.” 
“You’ve got to be fucking with me.” 
You fuck into him hard right where he needs you. He moans. 
“Nah. My fantasy fuck, remember? Right now, we’re playing love birds.’ Like’ works too, I guess. If you’re too scared,” You half-way mock, starting a pace now that borders cruel “Now say it nice and sweet and I’ll let you cum.” 
“You’re such a—agh, fuck,” He shudders against the bedsheets, repeating himself as you pound him. It’s easy to piston your hips. He’s so sensitive to begin with that it doesn’t take much “You’re insane.” 
“C’mon, old man. Confess your feelings to me like we’re sweethearts.” 
“In your dr—oh, shit.” 
“What was’at? Did you wanna say something?” 
You can practically feel him turn it over in his head. You’re mostly doing it to mess with him. Punishment for all of his beating around the bush and bullshitting. Getting to fuck him has been more than enough. 
So you’re not expecting him to stop you. To turn over flat on his back and lay with his legs spread and wrap his arms around your waist and stare at you through hazy, flushed eyes. This time you’re really looking at him. At the lines on his face and the scruff and an expression torn with time and desire and lust. Your heart nearly falls out of your fucking ass when he wraps his arms around your neck, palming your nape and pushing your foreheads together. 
When you’re nose to nose, he looks very serious all of a sudden. You swallow something in your throat, unsure of what else to do. 
“Gonna say this one fucking time, only. So listen up cause I’m not gonna repeat myself.” 
He’s got to be fucking with you. 
“Love you..I love you or whatever.  But that doesn’t mean—” 
Before he can finish his sentence, you put your hands up under his knees and fuck him for all you’ve got. Half-way as revenge for the shitty confession and half-way because if you think too long about what he’s saying you’re pretty sure you’re going to collapse. 
He sounds good under you, as you fist his cock and laugh in absolute fucking delight. You stare at him hard. At his fucked out expression. You’re gonna cuss him out as soon as this shit is over, you swear. What an asshole. 
“O-oh, oh fuck, I’m gonna, g-gonna cum.” 
You goad him cause you aren’t sure what else you should do at this point. 
“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock? Show it to me. Let me see what you look like.” 
The words are enough to push him over the edge. He gets unraveled right before your eyes, his whole body pulled like a bow before losing all the tension. You can feel his cock twitching hotly in your palms. Thick strings of white covering your fingers as you fuck him through it. He sounds so perfect like that, so fucking good for you. You can feel your whole body ready to give out just watching. 
When Bakugou finally finishes, he releases you from his grip. You pull out only seconds after, staring at his flushed state in wide-eyed disbelief. 
“Were you serious?” You ask, because it’s the only thing you can think to ask. He sighs, tired. 
“Yeah.” 
Where the hell is this dudes class? 
“Fuck.” 
He laughs, laid down before poking his head back up to stare at you. 
“You didn’t cum yet.” It’s more of a statement than a question. You shake your head. 
“Not yet. I can take care of it.” 
He clicks his teeth.
“No way. Come ‘ere.” 
You undo the harness of your strap before crawling over to where he’s laid. You end up standing on your knees. He props himself up on his elbows, and you look down at him absolutely mesmerized. He crinkles his nose at you. 
“That fucking lovesick look on your face is gross.” 
“Been like this for four years.” 
He flushes. 
You stand in front of him, bare on your knees. He reaches forward, brushing the hair over the hood of your clit gently.
“You’re so wet.” He murmurs. You laugh. 
“Yeah, no shit.” You say, too tired to do much arguing “Lemme borrow your mouth,” 
He snorts “Got it.” 
You fist your hands into his hair and tug, bringing his open mouth to your clit with a sigh. Your cunts sort from being pushed into and neglected. Even the barest brush of his mouth is making you shiver. Bakugou must know a little something about this, because he latches onto you without thinking twice. The sudden added pressure has heat building your stomach at the speed of light. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so on edge in such a short period of time. 
Plus looking down at him while you hump against his face is enthralling. 
“You’d make a cute little wife, old man,” You say thoughtfully, dull pleasure aching as you tuf his hair at the root “You can cook, clean, bake and you know how to use your mouth fucking perfectly.” 
He gives you a look of exasperation, but the warmth down his neck tells you he likes it. You laugh, throwing your head back. The visible sight of arousal flowing down his chin and making his face messy is making you more horny than you know what to do with. You don’t have the energy to cum more than once but you’re sure when you wake you you’re gonna be horny all over again. 
You try not to think too hard about it as you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter before unraveling all at once. Your insides are hotter than lava, the entire lower half convulsing as the strength in your thighs and legs gets lost gradually. Bakugou sucks until you’re nearly overstimulated, and you have to pull him away before it really gets to be too much for you. 
“You taste good.” He says thoughtfully. You laugh. 
“Got plenty more if you want it.” 
“We should clean up.” 
“You’re not kicking me out?” 
“I’m not a villain, damn it.” 
“You feel like one for that loser ass confession, but I’ll let it slide. I need a fucking nap though. Getting my ass kicked and having incredible sex in the same day is exhausting.” 
He laughs as you lay down besides him, sitting up. Even in your half exhausted state, you catch the feeling of his lips on your forehead. 
“Get some rest you brat.” 
__ 
You wake up in a familiar bed. 
If the sore feeling of laying pipe wasn’t in your hips, you’re pretty damn sure you just woke up out of a dream. What the fuck just happened to you? Your back and body is sore, but you’re clean like you’ve been wiped down. You’re stark naked though. 
The idea that he could give you a wipe but not dress you makes you laugh. When you sit up, all of your clothes are sitting still on a chair. There’s some new clothes on top of them though, his clothes. You stand to your feet, your back cracking as loud as possible as you examine the wounds. You have some hickies now (when the hell did he leave those) and when you turn there’s some scratches on your back. You feel self-satisfaction as you get dressed. You should hit the showers when you feel less lethargic. 
When you’ve reconciled with the fact you didn’t just conjure up what happened a few hours ago, you trek back into the living room. You find Bakugou where you expect him, bent over the stove making dinner. You lean on the frame of the door with a grin before walking over to him. 
You don’t hesitate in sliding your hands on his waist under his tank top. Better, he doesn’t react like you’ve shot him dead. A laugh blooms in your chest. 
“Morning grandpa.” 
“You fucking—if you don’t sit down.” 
You snort, but sit yourself down at the counter like you did a few hours ago. 
“Whatcha making for dinner.” 
“Grilled fish and rice. There’s sides.” 
“Sounds healthy.” 
His ears turn red. 
‘“You have work tomorrow but you need to recover.” 
You couldn’t smile more if you fucking tried. 
“We gonna talk about what just happened,” You ask, pouring yourself a glass of water as you sit down. You take a long sip “Or are you gonna pretend to keep washing rice?” 
He sighs, putting down the dry rice and the cup to measure. He almost looks furious, but he’s too cute for it to mean anything to you. You grin. 
“Hey. Fucking. Look. Alright. You’re way too fucking young. I’m old enough to be your father a-and you only just barely got your life together, so yes I told you whatever I told you. But no fucking funny business until you’re at least 25 and your brain is developed more than a peanut.” 
You nod.. 
“Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda a coward old man?” You say thoughtfully. He looks pissed again but it’s too funny for you to care “What’s funny business? Sex? Cause if it is, I’ve got bad news.” 
“We just. We have to be careful.” 
“So I can kiss, hug, fuck you in private but keep it outta the press?” 
He stares at you, scratching his neck. “Yeah. Basically.” 
You give him a thumbs up, grabbing a snack off the tray on his table. Chips, the fancy kind. They’re good. 
“Got it. Can I stay over? I don’t feel like driving down to my hotel this late.” 
“....You’re not pissed?” 
You laugh. 
“Are you kidding? I wasn’t mad the first time cause you rejected me, I was mad cause you were acting all fucking ethical and holier-than-thou. I figured it was gonna be something like that anyway. And I’m not much of a romantic, so dates and shit are whatever to me,” 
“Forreal?” 
“Yeah. Having sex and staying over to hang out for a while is cool. It was your fat head worrying about it, not mine. Did Mr. Deku managed to talk you out of your crisis while I was asleep?” 
He gives you a look. Bullseye again. 
“You two keep in touch?” 
“He’s a good dude and he buys me a meal when I’m short on change. Jealous?” 
He turns away from you before answering. His ears are burning. You feel your heart squeeze. 
What shit taste you’ve got being head over heels for this old bastard, you wonder. 
“Just shut up and eat your chips.” 
“Uh-huh. Whatever you say.”
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andkisses · 5 months
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♡ roman holiday | sunghoon ♡
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will this bucket list trip be the thing that finally forces you to face your feelings? or will it be the thing that tears the two of you apart for good?
♡ sunghoon x gn!reader | wc. 9.4k ♡ genres/tropes: childhood friends to lovers and the fluff and angst that comes with it, college!au (not obvious but implied), road trips ♡ mentions of/warnings: arguments, references to a toxic family environment, allusions to drowning, i think that’s all but lmk if there’s smth else that needs added! ♡ a/n: this has been a wip for SOO long we’re talking YEARS and has changed muses several times but i finally sat down to finish this and im so proud of what i managed <3 truly some of my favorite things ive ever written ! inspired by roman holiday by halsey! this is also the longest thing i think i have ever written <3
♡ masterlist ♡
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The coffee ring on the counter stares back at you, warm brown against a stark egg white. You can’t tell if it’s old or new, and part of you doesn’t care. Another part wants to know, though, when the coffee stain was made and why it was never cleaned. The motel is practically empty, the older lady behind the front desk and a tired-looking family in the corner of the dining room are the only other inhabitants.
Through the windows, dressed quaintly with homesewn drapes, you see the tall mountain trees, dark green and prickly, stretching up to the crystal blue sky. The television across the room is set to the weather station, and the anchor talks about how a cold front could potentially lead to an early snow. 
A tray with various breakfast items clunks against the table, and the boy you’ve been traveling with settles in across from you, faux leather chair seat squeaking beneath in subtle “I’m hardly ever used” protest. His dark hair falls into his eyes messily, as if he only just now got up and rolled out of bed. The red flannel and vest he wears matches the surroundings, but looks absurd on your best friend.
“Sunghoon,” you start, interlacing your fingers and resting your chin on the bridge they form. Your eyes scan the tray, accounting each and every tiny portion of food. Eggs, both scrambled and hard boiled, some toast with an assortment of little jam containers, a little bowl of butter, two pancakes, half a waffle, and a few strips of bacon. “Thank you for getting everything,” you continue, leveling a stare over the top of your nose, “but you forgot the syrup.”
The boy in front of you blinks, bites his lips, and nods his head. A soft yeah, I forgot the syrup escapes his lips as he slides out of his chair, the pleather squeaking once again. “Give me like two minutes,” he says, “the breakfast bar is crazy to navigate. Do you see the things I do for you?” His smile is teasing.
“It’s no problem, Hoon—” Your voice trails off as he jogs off into the distance. You shake your head, feeling lethargic and sleepy beneath the slow-turning ceiling fan. Your gaze follows its metallic clink, and the fan seems as if it’s never been replaced in the 50-something years this establishment has operated.
You’re brought back down by a small tug on your sleeve, and when you look, it’s the little girl from the tired family across the room. She blinks up at you, not much unlike Sunghoon, innocent and full of curiosity. You nod your head, encouraging her to talk. The little girl takes a big gulp of air, dual pigtails bobbing, before, “I think your boyfriend is very nice and I like how he gets you your breakfast.”
The laugh that leaves you is easy, the statement hardly shocking at all. You’re used to it, strangers and acquaintances alike assuming the relationship status between the two of you. It’s nothing new. The little girl’s face is confused, her head listing to one side. You nod again, swallowing any additional laughter. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you reply, and you see a little bit of the light in her eyes diminish. “We’re just really good friends. He’s my best friend, actually.”
The girl’s brows furrowed together, a small pout forming on her lips. Obviously not the answer she was expecting. Then she nods, lips pursed. “Yeah, okay,” she mutters, seeming confused. Before she turns to walk back to her family, she looks back up and adds, “He’s a good friend. I would keep him as my friend for a long time.”
“That’s what I intend on doing, kiddo.” Your voice is quiet as the little girl skips back across the old, faded carpet towards her family. You see Sunghoon emerge from the breakfast bar, where everyone else at this motel must be. He waves small packets of syrup in the air. The smile that flits across your face is fleeting. You try to ignore, again, this feeling in your chest. Your voice is small, talking to yourself. “For as long as possible.”
***
The candy-colored Valentine stared back at you, practically mocking you. Third grade and only one Valentine. You tried to fight back the tears, attempted to sniff them back inside, but nothing worked. They fell, one by one, onto the homemade card, soaking through the pink construction paper and leaving roundly-shaped wet splotches across your only card.
You read the simple message, “Happy Valentine’s! – Sunghoon”, over and over and over again. You racked your brain, trying to figure out why, why, why no one else gave you a card. You were nice, you offered to help them when they needed it. It seemed like everyone liked you. They even let you sit by them at lunch.
So why?
The hand on your shoulder startled you, your head whipping up to face the figure standing beside the desk. It was Sunghoon, the boy who gave you the only Valentine in your possession. The edges of his dark hair curled around his eyebrows and the corners of his eyes. His brow scrunched with worry, and he ducked down to see your face.
“Are you okay?”
You shook your head, a bitter pout filling out your lips. “Does it look like I’m okay?”
Sunghoon shrugged, removing his hand to pull out the seat beside you. “I guess not.” He pursed his lips, hands clasped in his lap, before looking back at you. “What’s the matter?”
You flung the single Valentine—his own Valentine—back at him. The construction paper flew through the air before catching, floating down to land on the table by Sunghoon, who deftly picked it up and turned it over in his hands.
“It’s the only one you got?”
You nodded, crossing your arms on your desk and sinking into them. A heavy sigh left your chest and you sniffled, trying to keep the angry tears from falling again. You wished the day would end; that the bell would ring and release you so you could go home and cry somewhere comfier instead.
There was silence, then, “Does it matter if you only got one?”
You scoffed, still hidden in your arms. “Uh, duh? It means no one in this class likes me.”
“Then… why does it matter if everyone else doesn’t like you? Shouldn’t one person liking you be okay?”
You bit your lip. You can’t tell if you like his thinking or not. You decided not to respond.
You heard the chair scrape against the wood floor beside you, and you figured it was Sunghoon leaving to return to the other students. That was fine, you figured. It’s what you should expect, anyway. Even if he was the only one who gave you a Valentine, it was probably only because he gave the whole class Valentine’s. What a guy.
Then the chair was drug against the floor again, much closer this time. You popped your head up, a scowl still on your face, to see what was happening. Sunghoon had scooted it closer, and in his hands was another Valentine. You watched as he flipped the card over to the decorated side and skillfully pulled off the foam heart-shaped sticker, as if he’d had to do this thousands of times before.
His question is one you didn’t expect. “Where do you want to go?”
You look up at him, incredulous. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if you don’t have many friends here, you must want to be somewhere else?” Sunghoon shrugged, as if the thought made perfect sense to him. “Right?”
You pursed your lips, mimicking his shrug. “I guess you’re right...”
“Then,” Sunghoon began again, “where do you want to go?”
“Uhm, my house?” you answered. Crying on your fluffy bed would be much more comfortable than crying on this hard desk. Your arms were sore from resting on the edge and your back was stiff from the awkward angle.
Sunghoon shook his head. “No, think bigger. Like, vacation places and stuff.”
“Hmm... then, maybe, the big cities? The ones you always see in TV shows. And... the beach, because the ocean is really nice.”
Sunghoon nodded, diligently taking note of every place you suggested. His handwriting is a little crooked, but it fit on the now vacant front of a Valentine’s card. He looked up at you, eyes wide with question. “Anywhere else?”
You frowned, deep in thought. Then, as if someone tapped you on the shoulder and whispered it in your ear, an idea sprung to mind. “A really tall mountain, where it’s snowy all the time. No matter the season”
The pencil lead pulled across the paper, leaving information behind. Sunghoon returned to the top of the page, tapping the pencil’s eraser on the side of his cheek before scribbling a final note down. “There! It’s finished!” He slid it over in front of you.
You read the title of the list aloud: “The Wanderlist? But that isn’t even a word.”
Sunghoon shook his head. “It is now.” He leaned over, pointing at all the places you had stated. “And that’s everywhere we’re gonna go, because I’m your best friend now. We won’t be lonely, because we have each other. And we’re gonna travel all over.”
You sat up, leveling him a stare. “Well, this is gonna be expensive, you know. Trips aren’t free. They cost a lot.”
Sunghoon smiled, the kind that, even for a tin moment, makes everything seem like it’s possible. “Then we better start saving now!”
 ***
The pink paper stares up at you from its place on the dashboard, stuck with a random sticker right next to the air vent. The edges had aged, curling and warping, and your tear stains from 3rd grade are still faintly visible. You read over the list—your wanderlist, as Sunghoon had named it all those years ago.
1. Big cities (because TV) x2!!
2. The beach (because cool ocean)
3. Tall mountain (because always snow)
The big city had been marked off in 6th grade, when the class had a trip to the modern art museum, and again in 8th grade for a series of school-wide competitions, from writing and art to band to mathematics and science. Sunghoon had excelled at creative writing while you swept the math category for your region.
The beach was crossed off the day before the two of you left for college. How bitter it was that you had to be separated, together for ten years only to be settled in two different places. Yes, you weren’t that far away. A half day’s drive. But you both knew, deep down, how likely seeing each other was.
So you did something about it. The day before, you woke up before the sun. You loaded his car up with everything you would need for a daytrip, and you took off for the coast. You spent the whole day, afternoon, and evening parked at a spot on the beach. If you think about it now, you can still smell the seabreeze, imagine it in your hair. You can hear Sunghoon’s laugh, about what, you can’t remember. You do remember how happy you both were.
You remember sitting side by side, sharing a blanket over your shoulders as the seabreeze grew colder, watching the sun disappear on the horizon. You remember the thoughts you had–the ones you normally stamped down and annoyed. You should tell him. You’d been so close before. You wouldn’t even say the word to yourself, but you knew.
You didn’t say anything
“Can you believe these clouds?” Sunghoon says, slipping into the driver's seat and shutting the door. He places his keys into the ignition and turns like he always had. You watch the keychain you got him freshman year of high school swing from momentum. When you look back up, Sunghoon is watching you, leaning one elbow on the center console, hair in his eyes. “I suppose even the weather believes my sunny disposition is more than enough.”
“Oh, please,” you scoff, smacking his shoulder. You turn to look out the window, biting your lip. You’ve got to get it together. You blame that little girl from breakfast. You’d been doing just fine not thinking about Sunghoon in That Way. Now here you were, all these stupid feelings drummed up.
It doesn’t help that Sunghoon pulls out a cassette–MT-PSH-5–and pops it into the player. His smile grows wide as he turns out of the parking lot and onto the road, heading further up the mountain. “Nothing like some classic tunes.”
It was dumb. It didn’t mean anything.
It’s all you can think about.
Sneaking out late, hot summer heat still sticky and oppressing. You could feel the waves rise up from the concrete as it finally felt relief in the moonlight. You’d felt like dressing up, sneaking into your mother’s room and applying her fancy department store perfume to the nape of your neck. Your fingers gracefully found her pearls in the glass bowl on the dresser as you left, and you pulled them over your head, letting them rest against your collar bone. They’re still cool against your hot skin.
You escaped through the back patio, walking past the fist-sized hole in the drywall you wished you could forget about. The dusty edges kept raining down debris if someone walked too close to it. You let yourself out the gate in the fence, pulling it shut behind you. You felt for the keys to the front door in your pocket, and they jingled in response. You clasped your hand around the cool metal, the cuts sharp and edgy beneath your palm.
He met you at the corner of his street and yours, his dark hair swallowing up the soft moonlight. It made his features seem younger, softer. It felt like you were kids again.
You fell in line beside each other, walking the empty streets without fear. Who was to stop some teenagers walking the street at midnight? Random cars passed by, people finally returning home from the late shift but paying no mind to you two. And that was fine; you didn’t want them to care.
The black gates around the community pool glinted in the yellow streetlights, reaching out to you like a beacon. The closer you drew, the more the overwhelming scent of chlorine filled the air. You walked forward, hands in your jacket pockets, one wrapped tightly around your house keys. You took a deep, steadying breath. This was fine. You had this.
“Hey, [Y/N], do we really have to do this?”
You rolled your eyes, pulling your hands from your pockets and grabbing the top of the fence. You’d have to pull yourself up, and be extra careful of the metal pickets at the top. It’d be tough, but you could make it. “What?” you snapped back lightly, voice echoing amongst the night. “Scared of hopping the fence?”
“No, that’d be ridiculous,” Sunghoon replied, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to rest on one foot. “Jumping fences is nothing for me. Jumping fences into property that—” he pointed to a white and red sign just beside your knees. “—considers jumping fences into property after hours as illegal and trespassing? That sets me on edge.”
You sighed, rolling your eyes again. “It’s not like they’ve got police roaming around or anything, and the owner’s too cheap for security cameras. I’m sure if we tried hard enough, we could just pull the fence down instead of having to jump it.” For emphasis, you grabbed hold of the rods and shook. A loud metallic echo escaped into the night, and before you could pull back and shake a third time, Sunghoon had dashed to your side, placing his hands on yours to stop you.
His brown eyes caught the light as he shook his head back and forth and hissed, “If you’re going to do something illegal, do it quietly! Especially when I’m here.”
You leaned forward, head inching towards his, with a scowl on your face. “Then shut up and hop the fence.” You drew back, replacing your hands at the top and pulled yourself up and over with ease. Maybe mandatory PE did have benefits.. Your sneakers landed on the pavement, and when you stood upright from the landing, you stared at Sunghoon through the bars. “You can either join me,” you began, a smirk on your face, chin tilted up, “or you could just wait while I go and find my car keys.”
You turned on your heels, walking towards the lifeguard’s shack. You could have sworn the sigh you heard was strong enough to blow the fence down altogether
Your shoes scuffed against the concrete, and you felt the humid air of the pool spill over and try to reach out to you. Its arms clung and bit at your ankles as the water inside sloshed around with the teasing wind. You shook them off, changing course from the pool’s edge to the guard’s shack. The padlock on the door seemed old—really old—and you crossed your fingers before giving a giant tug and having it pop open in your hands.
The wooden door swung open and you stepped inside the dingy shack. Various lost pool toys littered the floor, and a box of deflated tricolor beach balls appeared to have seen better days. But you weren’t interested in any of that: you needed your car keys. Above you, nestled nearly at the top of the peaked roof was a loft filled with white plastic bins. One of them, you noted, was closer to the edge than the others, as if someone had lazily swung it up there.
You crossed your fingers again, reaching up to pull the basket down to you. “Please be there, please be there, please be there,” you chanted under your breath. You peered into the basket. On top, someone’s embroidered handkerchief. You pinched the soft material between your finger and thumb before tossing it aside in the basket. Someone’s crazy straw, two Rubik’s Cubes, a school ID lanyard, and—yes!
You fished your car keys out with one hand and swung the basket back up into the loft with the other. You turned to leave, ready to find Sunghoon, reunite with your car, and drive home, but before you can even take a single step back out you’ve run into something.
Or someone.
Your scream’s instantly shushed by your best friend, a single finger coming up against your lips. Sunghoon was so close, and you felt the pool humidity roll off his shoulders as he looked at you with confusion. “Are you done?” he asked. “And why are you screaming?”
You shook your head, holding up your keys. “Yes. Also, you scared me. How did you get in here? I didn’t think you’d hop the fence.”
“Didn’t have to.” Sunghoon held up a matching padlock to the one you’d pulled off outside. “Looks like the owner’s too cheap to buy actual locks for his gates. I simply walked in.”
You left the lifeguard’s shack, replacing the lock and headed for the entrance, where Sunghoon easily swung open the wrought iron gate. You walked towards your car as Sunghoon redid the lock, simply looping it through and clicking it shut.
You kissed your car keys and unlocked the doors, swinging down into the driver’s seat. Sunghoon slid into the passenger seat beside you, and as soon as his door shut, the engine was starting and you were pulling out of the parking spot.
“Let a guy put on his seatbelt first?” Sunghoon joked as he clicked his into place. “I don’t see you wearing yours, [Y/N].”
“Then you’re not looking close enough,” you replied, taking one hand off the wheel to pull at your own seatbelt. “Seems as if someone isn’t paying attention.”
“Forgive me, I was busy making sure no one saw our illegal activity. I would like to graduate high school next year with a clean record.”
You laughed something similar to a scoff as you flicked on your turn signal and made your way down his street. “You say that as if we robbed a bank. Is it really trespassing if the locks don’t even work? The wind could have undone them.” You turned to catch a glance at your friend, and what you caught was a judgmental glare in the green glow of the dashboard.
With a simple curve of the steering wheel, you pulled in front of his house. You shifted the car in park and rotated towards the passenger seat. “Thanks for breaking the law with me, Sunghoon. It means a lot. I’m touched.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He leaned towards the door, making as if to pull the handle and open it, when he reached inside his pocket. His eyes lit up and he turned back towards you. “Oh, yeah!”
You shook your head, confused. You hold a single hand up. “Oh, yeah, what?”
“Here’s that mixtape you wanted,” Sunghoon answers, placing a cassette tape in your unintentionally outstretched hand. You scowled. You didn’t know how he had the technology to make a cassette in this day and age, but then again, you were the one with a car so old it still had a cassette player. You two were a pair, you supposed.
“When did you finish it?” you asked, spinning it around in your hands. The clear, Sharpie handwriting read MT-PSH-5 on the short white label.
“This morning,” he replied, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.
“Why didn’t you give it to me earlier, then?” You turn to look at him. The yellow glow of the streetlights blend in with the green of the dashboard lights. His eyes remained that entrancing brown color, though. Romantic and homey all at once, untouchable by any other shade.
Sunghoon shrugged. “Perhaps it was because you didn’t have a car to play it in when I finished it? It was unavailable to you, shall we say.”
“Ha, ha, very funny.” You kept turning the cassette in your hands, as if you’d find something new and exciting on each turn.
“Oh, and—” Sunghoon leaned across the center console, reaching to take the tape from your hands, like he had something to say or show you. But he stopped. His brows furrowed together, and he turned to you, face mere inches from your own. “Are you wearing perfume?”
You nodded. “Yeah. My mom’s, and I got mad at her since she got mad at me about the car so I...”
An eyebrow quirked up. “You’re showing your mom up by stealing some of her perfume?”
“It’s expensive,” you muttered, sliding down into your seat. “She’ll have to pay for it later. Literally.”
And with that, he laughed. Nice and hearty and his eyes turned into tiny crescent moons and you felt your heart flutter—something that had happened a lot as of late, and you’re not entirely sure why. Yes, Sunghoon was a good friend. A best friend. But that’s all he was. He—
“Hey.” Your attention snapped from a distance spot on the road over to him, and he felt even closer now for some reason. Your heart registered how soft he’d spoken and proceeded to beat faster because of it. His eyes searched yours, but for what you don’t know. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Make sure you get home safe, okay? Wouldn’t want anything happening to the city’s greatest delinquent.”
“Yeah,” you laughed, but it was short and stilted. You barely heard what he said over the thumping of your own blood in your ears. You felt the red flush creep up your neck, dusting your cheeks and turning your ears a cherry color. When you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry, all you could think about was how loud it seemed. Your grip on the mixtape tightened, it seemingly the only thing tethering you to the real world.
You couldn’t tell if the radio was one or not or whether you’d turned car off and left the keys in the ignition. All you could tell was Sunghoon, so close and so real he almost seemed unreal. And then it happened. He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut before placing a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, right next to your lips. It happened too fast and it was the slowest moment of your life all at once. Your heart was practically screaming now, hands rattling around the mixtape.
When he pulled back, he kept going, opening the car door and stepping out. Before closing it, he leaned in and nodded. “I meant what I said about getting back safely. Promise?”
You nodded. “I promise.” You were surprised your voice worked at all. That you were able to form a coherent, albeit a simplistic, sentence. That you could think at all. The door swung shut and you shifted the car into drive.
The whole way home felt automatic, limbs working separate from your internal instructions. When you returned home, you pulled up beside your mailbox and turned the car off, pulling the keys and letting them rest in your hand. You sat motionless, seatbelt still in place, as you stared, eyes fixated at someone mindless spot on the dashboard. The pearls were cool against your heated skin.
It was dumb. It didn’t mean anything.
It’s all you can think about.
You flip the mixtape over in your hands, reading the slightly-faded yet still legible handwriting. MT-HVC-5. You’d run through the songs already, and Sunghoon had switched to some CD mixes he had brought. Why he didn’t get a car with Bluetooth, something you’d done a while ago, you’d never know. Maybe that was part of his charm. 
You’d managed to learn to forget about that kiss, or at least ignore it. But Sunghoon pulling out the mixtape he’d given you that night pulls it back up to the surface. You aren’t even sure how it even got into his possession. The longer you recall the memory, the more you can feel the burn on your cheek from where his warm lips touched your skin. The rest of the flush comes back from how you wish so badly it would happen again.
  “What’s up?”
“Huh?” You turn towards his voice, away from the window.
“I asked what’s up,” Sunghoon repeats, looking over at you for a split second before returning to the road. “You seem like we’re on another planet.”
“Just thinking about when we were younger, you know...” Did he? What did you want him to think about? The day you’ve been obsessing over? And then what would he do about it? Pull over and confess? Kiss you, but mean it this time?
Sunghoon laughs, breaking your thoughts. He spares another quick glance in your direction. “Younger like what? Like third grade or two days ago?”
You reach across the center console to smack his shoulder. “Why would it be two days ago?”
“We were younger then. Wild, foolish.” Sunghoon takes one hand off the wheel and places his knuckles on his forehead. “The way we were is actually unimaginable now.”
“I’m done with you.”
Sunghoon scoffs. “Sure you are.” A quick beat, a hum to the music. “Anyway, what were you thinking about?”
You’re quiet for a moment. Then, “Do you think we'll change?”
“We have changed.”
“Really?” He said it so simply, it takes you off guard. You turn to look at him, even though you know he’ll keep his eyes glued safely to the road.
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “We’ve totally changed. We don't like the same kinds of music as the old us used to. We don't eat mac and cheese for every conceivable meal—except for the day after that one chem exam.”
“That final was hard!” You reach across the center console to shove at his shoulder–oh, god, why do you keep finding ways to put your hands on him?–earning a smug grin. “None of it was covered in class and you know it!”
“See what I mean?” Sunghoon asks. “We're different, but like, a good different. We’ve adapted.”
The silence that fills the car after isn’t weighty or overbearing. It’s comfortable and common, safe like a child-loved security blanket. Yet, somehow, your stomach fills with stones of dread, and all you want to do is sleep off any bad feelings.
You keep your eyes trained ahead, the curving mountain road, when you ask, “Do you ever think we'll be bad different?
Sunghoon spares a confused glance at you, brows knit together as he switches focus between you and the road. He shakes his head. “No, not us. Never us.”
“Is that a promise?”
The hand closest to you leaves the steering wheel and drifts over the center console, pinky out. “Always.”
You wrap your pinky around his, and try to ignore the heated flush you feel creeping up your neck and the backs of your ears. You focus, instead, on how real Sunghoon feels. How solid the mixtape is in your hands. How, here out in what feels like the middle of nowhere surrounded by evergreens and roadside snow piles that have started to pop up and tall mountain views, time doesn’t feel like it can get you.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe, out here, there’s only good different.
Maybe, that’s all you need.
The clouds from the morning have turned darker, more potent. You can smell rain in the air, hear it as the wind rushes through the trees. It’s so cold though, you wonder if it will snow instead. The mountain weather you’d been looking forward to for so long.
Sunghoon knocks his shoulder into yours, cheeks pink from the cold. He swings your duffle bag towards you, letting go of the strap before you’ve gotten a good grip on it. “Your luggage,” he declares, before marching towards the hotel entrance.
You’d both decided, with your combined measly college student incomes, that wherever the last hotel would be, it needed to be the best you could afford. Standing in front of it now, styled like a fancy chateau with white walls and a red roof, you think the two of you made the right choice.
You had forgot what made such a nice place so affordable, until Sunghoon swipes the key, opens the door for you, gesturing for you to walk in first. The room is cute and delicate, with pretty yet aged wainscotting, petite floral wallpaper, a nice view of the surrounding mountains and–
And one bed.
You freeze. You can’t help it. Maybe the you from this morning, before that girl talked to you, could handle this. The you of right now? The lady at the front desk calling you a cute couple, and Sunghoon going along with it and not correcting her, didn’t help. You aren’t sure if you’re strong enough to keep everything the same.
“Rats,” Sunghoon says, and you breathe a sigh of relief. He’s not cool with this either, you think. He turns toward you with a coy smile. “I’m gonna go back downstairs and ask for more pillows. Three simply won’t cut it. Want me to ask for some fancy water?”
You shake your head, voice gone, and you don’t move until you hear the door shut behind Sunghoon.
And that’s when it starts, as you drag your feet in circles trying to think your way through this. Your hands clench and unclench, fists forming so tightly you leave half-moons from your nails in the fleshy part of your palm. Your breath comes ragged and shallow, and you feel like drowning, except from too much instead of not enough. Too many memories reminding you of too many things. Too many emotions leading to too many feelings you neither want to recognize or acknowledge.
But one keeps pushing its way to the forefront, demanding attention and definition. The one that’s been bothering you all day. It makes you dizzy, to the point you feel you need to lay down and clutch at your stomach. Maybe that’s it, you think as you sit on the edge of the one bed. You’re just sick. Breakfast was bad. But you know it’s not. It makes you angry, because how dare you feel this way about him. It makes you flustered, since you shouldn't look at your best friend's face and have your gaze wander to his lips and wonder what they'd feel like against yours.
It makes you happy, so undeniably happy that you feel like crying, because it feels so right. When you allow yourself to think more about it, and imagine what life would be like if you were able to confirm and agree with all the strangers who already think you’re dating. Lovers. It fills you up with breaths of fresh air to the point it's like floating on cotton clouds.
It makes you fearful. Its dark side claws at your heart, threatening to tear at the tender seams and leave you bloody and raw, so intensely damaged you're afraid of doing anything along the same lines. You had asked about a bad different, and Sunghoon said it wasn’t possible. Right now, you feel like you have to disagree–confessing this? Altering the relationship you’ve carefully crafted for so long?
That would be a bad different.
That’s why, when Sunghoon comes back, three more pillows and a bottle of sparkling water, you don’t answer. You roll over on the bed, curling up away from him, hiding with a pillow on your head. You hear Sunghoon say something about it being a long drive, and he gets it, you should rest. You hear him open the closet door, then feel the spare blanket get draped over you.
And, as you lay here, hot silent tears threatening to spill over and run down your cheeks, you let yourself think about it. You're in love with your best friend. Your nail-bitten palms come to swipe at your eyes, you make the mistake of sniffing aloud. Sunghoon calls your name, and you hate how much you savor the worry in his voice.
But, it’s also too much. He can’t know, you decide. Not now, not ever. That is what would be best, you decide, for the two of you. To be able to get through the rest of this trip.
“[Y/N], what is it?” he calls again. Sunghoon’s voice is laced with care, something tender and soft and so distinctly him it pulls at the tears in your eyes. How can he make this so unfair? “What's wrong?”
“You wouldn't understand,” you snap, pulling yourself to sit up, the pillow falling off. You don’t look at him, but instead at your hands, fists in your lap. Sunghoon easily notes your posture, and confusion floods his features. You hate how quickly he can figure out something’s wrong, that something is bothering you.
“Can I try to understand, at least?” You look up at him, lips pursed, tears smarting your eyes. You take him in–turned towards you in the chair, sitting on the edge, like he can jump to your rescue at any time. The confused look in his eyes hurts—you've always been straightforward with one another. But you know you can’t about this. “I can’t try to fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 
     You shake your head, wiping one of your cheeks with your fingers, a half laugh falling from your lips. “No, Hoon it's—”
   “No.”
The force of the single word hits you, and it hurts more than the angry look in his eye.
   He stands, takes a step toward you, then sits hesitantly on the edge of the bed. He's close, and he's been closer, but it's still too much. The rushing sound is back in your ears and your heart pounds against your ribs, telling you to do something, anything, but you stay still.
   “Hoon—”
   “I said no, [Y/N].” Sunghoon’s words are ice, colder than the breeze outside and sharper than butcher knives. His eyes, once warm and homey, that romantic shade of brown you love, are now dark and piercing. “You don't get to call me special names when you aren't telling me what's wrong. When you aren't acting like the [Y/N] I've known since third grade.” His hands come up to run through his hair, and it flips slowly back into place. His voice drops, the softer, confused Sunghoon returning. “You've been acting weird this whole trip, and especially since this morning. It's driving me insane that I can't figure it out and fix it. I know you better than this.”
   He's so close, so, so close. Much too close. Somehow he’s scooted towards you on the bed. You can smell his cologne—when did he start doing that? Why hadn’t you noticed earlier? His eyes are back to the romantic brown, the warm and homey color, the ones that remind you of so many good memories—his eyes are so pretty. Your gaze follows its past patterns and drops to his lips, redder from being gnawed on with worry. A kiss would—
   A shaky breath leaves you, and you're talking before you realize, voice so small it's hard to hear. But Sunghoon is listening. He always does.
   You blink. “Do you want to know what's wrong?”
   “Of course. I need to know if I can do anything or—”
   “It's you.”
You want to be upset, angry. How dare it come to this. But you can’t, you realize. You can’t be angry at him. Whatever energy you had coursing through your veins leaves after your pseudo confession, and you turn away, resting your weight on the headboard, hoping he’ll go away. 
This, for certain, was bad different. You can feel it, weighing you down. Here, in a chilly, single bed hotel room, you’d ruined everything. Your brain told you to shut up, to be quiet, to try and save anything you could manage from this shattering relationship. But your mouth—or maybe your heart—kept going, and going, and going.
“It’s you,” you repeat, turning back towards him. He’s still there, frozen in place, face filled with concern. “It’s everything you do. The way you... you tell me bad jokes when I’m upset over a grade or make me mixtapes because you want to share your music with me. It’s–I’m–I’m sick of it. I hate it. I hate you”
Sunghoon recoils, eyes wide. He looks around the room, as if the answers to what to say are hidden around. He stands, backing up without turning away, like you’re something he has to keep his eyes on or he’ll get hurt again.
Again.
Sunghoon’s voice is flat when he speaks, like he’s out of breath. Shaky, like he’s about to cry, too. What have you done? “I’m… I’ll go downstairs and ask about if there’s anything nice around for dinner. I’ll–I’ll wait for you in the lobby. Whenever you’re ready, you know.”
Even now, after the nasty things–after I hate you left your lips–he’s still trying to make peace with you.
What did you do to ever deserve him?
And would he even stay with you once you return home?
The door falling shut is what starts your tears again. You slump down off the bed, between it and the window. You pull your knees up to your chest, put your head in your hands, and you cry.
***
It still isn’t over.
You’re breathing heavy, tears still stinging your eyes, but you aren’t sure if you’ve actually cried yet or not. Your fists are balled at your sides. Years of friendship are stuck in your throat, enough to make you want to scream or cry or vomit from the nauseous feeling it induces. The pouring rain, those clouds finally opening up, doesn’t help.
Dinner had been awful, awkward. The only person either of you talked to had been the waiter. You can’t remember what the food tasted like. You can’t remember what, if any, songs played on the radio on the way back. Sunghoon hadn’t bothered to pick anything out. All you could remember, or hear, or see in your head–I hate you. The look in his eyes. How he has barely looked at you since.
You aren’t sure what you have to do to get away, but you’d be willing to make a deal.
Anything to get away from this moment.
Anything to get away from your best friend.
Sunghoon stares at you like he’s only just now met you, and maybe he has. He’d stopped you halfway between the car and the hotel’s entrance, despite the rain. He’d called your name in such a way you froze. Your angered confession from earlier hangs in the air, untouched or acknowledged. A single parking lot light illuminates you two, dim yellow casting shadows through the rain.
“Do you mean that? What you said?” he asks, daring to step forward. You don’t move, anchored in place. By fear or something else, you aren’t sure. He takes another, then a third. The gap between you has been halved. “I know you don’t mean it. I’ve been thinking about it this whole time. You don’t mean it.”
“What makes you so sure?” you spit, taking a step closer in your upset. You level Sunghoon with a stare you hope is intimidating, bitter. You hope he sees the duress. You have to push him away. “I said what I said. I hate you, Park Sunghoon.”
The boy shakes his head, hair stuck to his forehead from the rain. He seems almost incredulous, and it angers you even more. Why doesn’t he get it? There’s a small smirk at the corners of his lips, but you’ve known him long enough to recognize it as mock confidence. “You didn’t mean what you said.”
“I did!” Another step, and now you’re nose to nose with him, staring into the eyes you’ve had memorized for so long, that romantic brown even in the rain and yellow streetlight. Your gaze betrays you and you drink in the slope of his nose, see how his eyes examine you as well. Note the downturn of his lips, almost unnoticeable. Your voice is weaker when you speak again. “I did mean it, Sunghoon.”
He leans in, closer and closer until he stops–a breath away from your lips. He freezes, closes his eyes, and waits.
And you cave, despite your best interests. You find yourself tilting your head and wishing he’d do something more. This can’t be how your first kiss with Sunghoon goes? When he pulls back, and you nearly stumble forward. You look up at him, and the smile on his face is no longer mock. You know what his question will be before he says it, and you know he’s caught you in your lie. “You hate me so much–why did you kiss me back?”
You want to spit back, I didn’t! You want to argue. But the truth is, ever since you’d remembered that day in high school, you’d been imagining what it would be like to actually kiss him, and again, and again. You wanted to know what kissing Sunghoon would be like, even if it meant redefining the relationship you worked so hard to keep as is. The one you said you hated him to protect.
Sunghoon gently cups the sides of your face, forcing you to look at him, and you see worry and concern etched into the space between his brows, spilt in the color of his eyes. “Tell me,” he whispers, voice almost breaking, “what’s wrong. Let me try to fix it.”
You shake your head, trying to form words to explain everything, but all you do is shiver drastically beneath his touch. You watch as Sunghoon’s eyes grow wide, and he leads you inside, arm over your shoulder. The woman at the front desks awards you a quirked eyebrow, but that’s all you get before she returns to her clipboard.
The room is icy cold when you return, but Sunghoon adjusts the temperature in silence. “You get dry first,” he says, pointing at the bathroom. “Take a shower and get warm.”
“But about you?” You want to point out the subtle shake in his hands, and the way his breath catches. “There’s not enough towels to share.”
“I’ll ask for more at the front desk. I’ll be fine. Go.”
The shower water never feels hot enough, but you do stop shivering. You do your best to towel dry your hair. When you peek the door open to see if he’s back, and if you could get your things, you see that Sunghoon has already done it for you. Everything you could need taken from your bag, folded and placed nicely right outside the door. You have no idea when he did it–you’re thankful he did.
When he comes back with extra towels–which, surely, did not take this long–you’re curled up on the bed, similar to before. You rest your weight on the headboard, looking out the window at how the rain patters against the glass. You wish you could see the stars.
Sunghoon is fast, but who’s to say? You aren’t exactly keeping track of time. You know he’s back because you feel the mattress shift. His voice is almost silent when he speaks. “Can we talk?”
“About what?” you ask, turning towards him. You haven’t seen Sunghoon look this tired in a while. And you know it’s your fault. “How I was mean to you?”
Sunghoon smiles, looking down at his clasped hands. He takes a moment to determine what he actually wants to say. “Let’s start with…what it is about me that made you say that?”
His eyes are pleading in the dark. The room is barely lit, the overhead light off. There’s just a lamp on the desk and the streetlight from outside. The rain sound is almost overwhelming in the silence. “If there’s something I’ve done that hurt you–”
“It’s not that. It’s–” You pause, trying to find the right thing to say. You decide to start with the obvious. “There’s a reason I kissed you outside.”
Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because I’m charming and irresistible.”
“This is serious!” You do what you always do when he makes some kind of quip–you reach out to push his shoulder, scooting closer, but Sunghoon catches you by your wrist.
“I am serious. Do you know how much you hurt me when you said you hated me?” He levels you a stare, one that makes you want to shrink away, but you can’t. “When I left, I didn’t ask the front desk about restaurants. I went to my car and sat down and cried because the person I love just said they hated me.”
“You love me?”
“Not like that,” he corrects, and now you have to know what he means.
“Tell me how then.” You take your free hand and grab his other wrist, a mirror of what he’s done to you. “When you say you love me, what do you mean?”
“It’s not like you think, not like what it has been.” Sunghoon looks down, takes a deep breath, then carries on.  “Not like friends, or like siblings, but like–”
“Lovers?” you offer.
Sunghoon swallows, sets his jaw. Then, “Yes. Like that. And I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know if it was overnight or gradual or all at once. I do know that I woke up one morning and I realized that I didn’t want to imagine my future with anyone else. And I didn’t want to see you with anyone else, either.”
“Kinda selfish,” you say.
Sunghoon laughs. “Yeah. I couldn’t help it.”
Somehow, you’ve both moved closer to each other. The knees of your crossed legs knock into each other. You still have a hold on the other’s wrist. Sunghoon levels you another stare. “Will you tell me why?”
“Why I said I hated you?” He nods, and you take a deep sigh. “Do you remember the night we snuck into the pool to get my car keys back?”
He nods again, a small smile on his face. “You mean the first night I got enough courage to kiss you? You looked so pretty, with the pearls and the perfume.”
You blush, hearing Sunghoon talk about you like that. “That night. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. And you know how all these people always say we look like a couple or whatever. And it all just stuck together and made me realize that I haven’t seen you like a friend in a long time. I’ve seen you like–”
“A lover?” Sunghoon offers, copying you from earlier.
You smile. “I said I hated you because I was afraid and overwhelmed, and I need you away from me. I thought that if you hated me, I could get over you and just move on. We could make up, and I wouldn’t have these feelings anymore, and we could go back to being friends.
“But if I’m being honest,” you add, moving even closer. Your shoulders knock into one other. “Even though it wasn’t even that long, those hours over dinner just now were some of the worst things I have ever had to do. I was ugly to you, Sunghoon, and you’re the last person on earth who would ever deserve to be talked to that way. But if you could forgive me, I…”
You try to look down again, but Sunghoon lets go of your wrist to place a finger under your chin, tipping your head up to his gaze. “You what?”
“I love you. I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you. I love you, Park Sunghoon.” You take a deep breath, just as lightning strikes somewhere far away and the thunder rumbles through the room. 
Sunghoon reaches out for you, his hands reach cupping your face again. It’s the most reverent you’ve ever seen him. His eyes roam over your every feature, as if you’ll break if he breathes too hard. It’s thrilling. “Genuinely?” he asks, voice fragile. “You love me?”
“Yes,” you whisper. It feels wrong to be too loud right now, like someone else could join in this moment between the two of you. “And if you would have me, I’d like to love you for a long time after this.”
Sunghoon pulls you to him, resting your forehead against his. He takes a deep breath. Then, “We’ve both just been really, really stupid about it, haven’t we?”
You laugh, savoring his touch and his warm and his smile. You stare into his eyes, those romantic brown ones you love so much. “I guess so.”
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and your heart jumps. “I know we did outside, but that’s a terrible story for a first kiss.”
“And the one from so long ago doesn’t count, because you just gave me a kiss then,” you say, not sure why you’re rambling when you have the opportunity to just kiss him already.
So, you shut up, and you do.
This kiss is reverent, unlike any that came before. You probably shouldn’t even bother comparing them. Maybe it’s the intentions behind the kiss—that you both want to be here, doing this, for the sake of just being, not proving. Maybe it’s because it hasn’t followed any dramatic late night outings or arguments. Maybe, it’s how you shiver closer to his frame, hands on his shoulders, and his own find the small of your back. You feel his smile against your lips, and the butterflies against your ribs.
Maybe, you should have said something a while ago. You could have avoided the whole I hate you stint, but then would anything else have been dramatic? Some couples are like puzzle pieces, perfectly fitting together with no stress. And maybe you two are a puzzle, one that fits together with ease, but you both intentionally hid pieces from the other, making it difficult to complete. Maybe airing grievances is the only way to get all the pieces back on the table.
You sigh as Sunghoon’s lips travel from your own down the line of your jaw, tickling in a delightful way. You feel safe in his arms, a safe you’ve always felt, but now it feels like something more, something even greater. Your heart jumps, and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close. Sunghoon instinctively holds you tighter, his hands against your shoulder blades.
“What is it?” he asks.
You shake your head, finding any words to be incredibly difficult. “I’m just—I’m glad.”
Sunghoon pulls back gently, quirking his head to one side as he looks at you. He uses the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away a stray tear. “Glad for what?” he asks, still cupping your cheek.
You lean into his touch, feeling dizzy with excitement and relief. “Glad that it’s you,” you say, your voice quiet. You lean in, placing a chaste kiss against his lips and, for once, he’s the one to shiver. “I’m glad you’re the one I love. Glad we’re here now, finally.”
Sunghoon pauses. His eyes dart between yours, your lips, and back. He rests his forehead on yours again, and you can already imagine getting used to this, and craving it when you can’t have it. “I waited so long, and I didn’t even know if...” There’s a catch in his voice, and he sounds like he’s about to cry. When he opens his eyes, there’s an honesty to them, a gaze you’ve only seen in Sunghoon’s eyes a handful of times. He smiles, his eyes going soft once more, like you are the most beautiful thing he has ever beheld. And to him, you are. “I always knew we were meant to be.”
***
The lady behind the desk did, in fact, look at you two like you were crazy. The night before you were acting like you were gonna tear each other to pieces. But now you’re walking out in each other’s arms? His around your shoulder, yours around his waist?
The sun is out, and there’s hardly any evidence of the downpour from last night. Maybe the earth needed to be just as dramatic as the two of you.
With the luggage in back, you two climb into the front seats. Sunghoon leans over the center console to press a kiss to your temple, just like he did when you woke up in each other’s arms and just like he did when he insisted on getting you whatever you wanted for breakfast.
“That’s not something new though?” you laugh, as he brings you small portions of everything the hotel had to offer. “You did this before.”
“Well, it’s obviously different now,” he replies. “I didn’t get to kiss you before.”
Now, Sunghoon taps at the Valentine heart on the dash–your wanderlist. What started this all. “We need a new one,” he says. “It took us a while, but we did everything on here. Should the new one be full of cringey couple things?”
“Only if you’d like to go back to being single.”
Sunghoon fakes shock as he shifts the car into gear. “You wouldn’t.”
This time, you lean over to give him a kiss, and you relish how quickly he blushes. “You’re right, I wouldn’t.” You sit back down, still turned towards him, hand atop his. “Maybe, we make the list up as we go. I mean, we’ve never been here before.”
“Didn’t stop third grade us,” he says. “Honestly, they seemed like they had everything together. We should think more like third grade us.”
“You mean complaining about how much things cost? Because I can think of so many things we could do together that would put major dents in our wallets.”
Sunghoon turns to you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and you know you’ve got this right, even if it took a while to get here. He reaches over, poking your cheek, before turning out of the parking lot. “Then let’s go find it, together.”
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Hi! Good day I hope I'm not bothering you. Can I make a request about a Yan Venti x reader with a breeding kink? Hehehehe
His and Only His
A/N: Thank you so much for this request Anon! Don't worry, you're not bothering me! I actually had a lot of fun writing this request, so if anything your submission made my day a wee bit better! I wasn't sure if you wanted fem, masc, or neutral reader so I went ahead and wrote it as neutral but fem-bodied. I hope you don't mind! Also I apologize for the delay, I've been working on a personal project of mine unrelated to Tumblr lol. This is the first time ive written a yandere fic so i apologize if its not up to par, either way i hope you enjoy.
Summary: A certain bard has been hiding some very vivid feelings for you that are borderline obsessive, and one day he decides he wants to take you home and fill you up after an accidental confession <3
Warnings: smut, breeding kink, manipulative and possessive yandere themes, slight overstimulation, penetrative sex (the reader has a vagina), sub-reader, dom venti, oral giving (reader recieves), pet names (baby, cutie, etc. ), marking kink, !everything in here is fully consensual!
Tagging: @hitomisuzuya hey!!! I thought you might like this one since you also like yan venti fics lol.
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You and Venti met a few months ago in one of mondstat's most renowned taverns, the angel's share, and soon became drinking buddies. Usually, you two would talk about the most random things; your days, assholes you encountered, books you've read, and music.
Once you had mentioned that you were interested in learning how to write poetry venti jumped at the chance. Even started an entire class to teach poetry. Everyone thought it was for the public, but no; it'd be all for you. Everything he was doing was all for you.
He just couldn't stop thinking of you. Your smile, your voice, the way you walk, talk, and breathe.
Archons, from the first night he met you, he knew you just had to be his.
His to hold,
His to love,
His to breed
To be fully honest, he's had non-stop dreams and thoughts of you carrying his children. He's always wanted a family, for centuries he's thought about it. Raising a son or daughter in a life full of music and stories. Everything had started pure and innocent; it could have even been labeled a crush. But the more and more the two of you talked, he just couldn't help how often the thought of you being full of his seed would come to him. Slowly creeping into every one of his waking thoughts until you being fucked so full was the only thing he was concerned with anymore.
So here you are, late at night at angel's share waiting for your favorite bard to join you. It was just after new years, and the breeze was as gentle as ever in the wonderful city of mondstat. You had ordered a drink from diluc, the current bartender for the night and the owner of the place. You ordered a simple drink just to keep yourself company while waiting for Venti to arrive.
As if he had heard your thoughts, the blue-haired tone deaf bard walked in the door, a large grin plastered on his face and his lyre under his left arm. He waved hello to diluc and Jose before he went up the stairs to join you at your usual table. He took a seat in front of you and your half-finished drink. The second floor was nearly empty, leaving only the two of you under the candles aglow.
You smiled brightly at him. "Why hello stranger! fancy seeing you here." You teased making venti chuckle.
"Ehe same to you stranger, I actually came here looking for someone dear to me. Their name is y/n, you haven't seen them have you?" He teased back, locking eyes with you.
You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter a little. although your feelings were not nearly as intense as venti's, you had to admit you had definitely been struck by cupid to some degree. He was someone who intrigued you and made you laugh when no one else could, something you were very happy to have in life.
"I might have heard that name a few times, any more information on this Y/n?" You wanted to keep this going for just a little bit longer to see how much you could bring out. You were beyond curious and honestly the wine you'd had made you tipsy so there was no fear of him discovering your little crush.
This made him smirk. He placed his thumb under his chin and grazed his lips with a sweet slide of his index finger, feigning thought for a moment.
"Well, for starters they have beautiful eyes, as strong as the sea and as free as the seven winds. They have a talent for writing some of the most dazzling poetry! They also blush the same way you are right now, a jaw-dropping red more vibrant than the brightest apples in all of mondstat!" He bit his lip with a slight giggle as you felt your face be lit aglow.
You knew he liked to tease, and that was part of the reason that you developed feelings for him, but how did you not notice how direct it was before? Normally his teasing was simply a nickname, maybe a quick pickup line. But this? This was making your heart jump back and forth in your throat and chest.
"i- well you, i..." You felt the words get caught in your throat. what were you doing? You needed to pull yourself together before things got out of hand. Quickly trying to regain your composure, you'd sputtered a quick sentence, barely audible "Shh... my poetry isn't that good..."
"Well I beg to differ, I think it was stunning. I liked it with my whole heart." Venti was quick to retort. He was really trying to be the end of you tonight huh?
"Well I like you with my whole heart" You were convinced you'd thought. You were shocked to feel that your mouth was open as if you'd just said something. You slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes bugging out. Venti looked at you, blinking a few times before his expression changed.
"What was that songbird? Do you like me?" He teased, leaning forward to pull your hand from your mouth. It took little effort, as he then took his other hand and pulled your chin in his direction, leaning over just a little and glancing down at your lips. "I wanna hear you say it songbird."
Please, don't let this be a dream; you'd think. You weren't sure what you were expecting after accidentally blurting your heart out to your best friend, but this certainly was by far the best possible reaction. You took a quivering breath and uttered, "I...I like you."
Something in his eyes changed, he was still looking at your lips, going back and forth between your eyes and mouth. Now his eyes were glued to your lips, something darker overtaking them. Watching the words leave your tongue, watching the shapes you make when you talk, the melodies dripping out.
"Can I do something crazy?" Venti asked, hushed but confident. Something that sounded a little too perfect not to have been rehearsed. You nodded hesitantly before he leaned in slowly towards you.
You felt his breath tickle your neck softly, there was a pause as you leaned your head to the side giving him more access. you felt like you were on fire. His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He gave a soft chuckle before locking his lips around your neck.
You couldn't help the gentle mewl that left you when he began sucking on the tender skin. The hand tangled in your hair gently got tighter as his kisses grew hungrier and more passionate.
You felt the heat of the moment jump between your thighs as he climbed over the table quietly. His hunger for you didn't seem to quench as he kissed your neck, it only became stronger. He began biting different spots on your neck, kneading the flesh with his teeth and tongue. It was only when you heard a group of people from downstairs leave that you realized that you both were on display, all it took was someone looking up.
You pushed him off you slightly, making him look at you confused and a little hurt.
"Can we go somewhere private, I don't want everyone to see us up here." his look softened as your words settled with him, he nodded and stood up, grabbing your hand.
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The walk to your home wasn't far. You lived in the capital of mondstat in a small apartment near the inn. It was just more convenient for the sweet bard to keep an eye on you, and to get closer to you. You fumbled your keys, trying to open the door quickly and distractedly.
Venti wrapped his hands around your waist, placing his nose in the crook of your neck, softly breathing you in. His hands squeezed ever so slightly tighter as if to preview what you were in for.
"Absolutely divine..." was all he muttered before a gentle breeze blew past you, opening your door.
You paid the weird phenomenon no mind as you grabbed his hand, leading him inside.
"Please don't mind the mess, I wasn't expecting company." Your shy mumbling was cut off when venti pushed you against the wall, going back to kissing your neck. He grabbed your sides, pulling your flesh against him. You could feel how hard he had grown just from kissing alone.
The sensation of feeling his hands finally being on you, the taste of your skin. It was intoxicating to him. He let his hands travel from your hips to palm the outside of your sex. He could feel how needy you'd grown from his touching. You bucked your hips into his hand as if telling him what you were so desperate for.
"Have patience sweet y/n. You'll get what you're so needy for when it's time." He moved from kissing your neck down, down, and down until he was sitting in front of you on his knees. He looked up at you with slitted and dangerous eyes. something you'd never seen on him before.
He began peppering kisses along the outside of your clothing, barely sending little shocks straight to your core.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted this, how long I've wanted to taste you." He pulled the hem of your pants, snapping the band closed. He let out a soft hum and looped his fingers, pulling your pants and undergarments down to his level.
The way his eyes glistened in desire was mesmerizing. He leaned forwards, nuzzling his nose onto the front of your folds, sending a chill down your spine. "Open your legs wide for me, songbird."
You did as told, lifting one leg over his shoulder, the other turned outwards to give him a better angle. He took this invite to slowly and passionately kitten lick everything his tongue would touch.
The room was filled with loud sounds of his mouth working wonders and your earthly moans. You gripped his hair as to take attention from your shaking, damn near faltering legs. you couldn't help the bucks you were making against his face. You loved the way he was moaning against your dripping sex, slurping every last drop you had to offer.
You felt the coil in your stomach growing tighter and tighter as you clenched your thighs around his head. His hands left his sex and under your thighs, pulling you closer and closer until you could only see his eyes peeking from under your flesh. Without warning, your riding became fevered, bucking widely you came all over his mouth.
Without missing a beat he ate every last drop, whining and whimpering at how absolutely amazing you tasted to him. When he was finished, he stood up on wobbly knees, still high from your orgasm, and kissed you sloppily.
You could taste your release on his tongue and the need in his passion. You bit his lip, trying to gain dominance, but you were only met with him sliding his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch he could find refuge in. You wrapped your hands around his neck as he lifted you up.
With your hips around him, he took you to the couch and laid down on top of him. You kept your legs wrapped around his waist as he ground into you.
"Tell me what you want me to do to you," He commanded, propped up on his elbows above you, still grinding. his breath dancing over your face.
"Archons, please stop....teasing, I ne..need you to fuck me please-" You whimpered quietly feeling your need stronger than ever. You wanted to feel him stretching you, splitting you. His hands gripping your waist as he pounded into you.
He didn't say anything, he only leaned down and kissed you. His lips soft and methodic. He sent one of his hands down to your chest, gently squeezing, making you moan. He took the advantage to explore your mouth yet again. Taking your tongue and gently sucking on it.
You arched your back into his touch as he began taking his clothes off. Slowly, almost tauntingly he exposed more and more of himself.
Eventually, you both were left bare. His beautiful form in front of you. You blushed at what was to come. He spread your legs apart and leaned forward to kiss you again. You wrapped your hands around his neck and his hair as he lined his cock at your entrance.
He reached a hand out and cupped your cheek.
"You are mine. I need to hear you say that you're mine and only mine," He whispered to you. There was lust behind it, but also something more. Almost a desperation for you to reassure him that you weren't anyone else's. He needed to know that he was all you'd ever need.
"I'm yours. Only yours."
That was all he needed. A newfound primal drive pumping through his brain. His click, his trigger, and you just pulled it. He plunged into you. Starting very slowly, watching how he disappeared inside of you.
You arched your back and tightened your legs around his back, making him sink into you faster. He started thrusting his leaking cock into your soaked cunt, making you moan vibrantly.
"I've been dreaming....dreaming of you taking me like this. beg-begging for me not to stop. You wanna be full of my seed? Full of my fucking cum?" You nodded at his question without hesitation, without regard to the fact that there'd be no way out of this if he filled you. "Beg for it....beg for my cum."
But Why would you want to escape?
His hand dipped to your sex, swirling his fingers as he pumped into you. His balls tight and slapping against your ass, he gripped his hand around your flesh tight enough to leave bruises and shot hot strings of cum deep into you. Warmth spread into you as he drilled into you.
Little did you know neither would be getting up for a very long time, I mean, you were his, so it was only natural that he made your neighbors aware of that fact. He had to make sure you took to his seed, that you only remembered how to moan his name.
After all, you were his and only his. Forever and always.
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rhubarbrambles · 6 months
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code lyoko, aelita, and neurodivergence
hi-ho! i'm rhubarb. i'm autistic. and a big fan of code lyoko. it's been a hyperfixation of mine on and off for a couple years now. aelita has ALWAYS been my favorite. her arc, her wit, her .. everything! yet there was always something.. different about her to me that i couldn't place.
that is.. that she's. REALLY relateable to the autistic experience. let's jump right into that.
first off. aelita's otherment from other human chatacters. yes, we learn aelita IS human. but even after learning that, aelita states feeling.. off, different. and, fuck, does that GET to me. it's very similar to how neurodivergent people often feel othered when around neurotypicals. that something is just.. wrong. that they don't belong, that they aren't being a person .. correctly, so to say
we even see aelita struggle with identifying tone / social cues, i.e. the multiple times sissi leads aelita into trouble by lying to her (like when telling her there's another shower upstairs, but refraining from saying that is the boy's shower). not only is she struggling, but sissi continues to laugh at aelita's failures. she IS being othered.
aelita, in a sense.. is having to "learn how to be human" again. that is. ..learn.... social norms. like how many neurodivergents often attempt to mask. this gets to her, too — we see aelita run BACK to lyoko because she's so damn stressed about it. she wants to go to HER normal.
ive also seen aelita's love of things like dj-ing as a hyperfixation of sorts. this one is hard to explain, but .. it was relateable to me to watch her gain a passion she loved so deeply.
my favorite part? when her character develops. we don't see aelita become.. "normal". we see her become CONFIDENT. we see her learn how to cope with her differences, learn how to THRIVE. she stays just as witty, as "weird", but accepts those parts of her and matures. it's.. something a younger me really needed. to watch her grow up and be.. okay. that despite it all, there's nothing WRONG with aelita. in fact, she's really damn cool.
i don't.. think aelita was written with such a subtext in mind. i don't think it was on purpose for her to fit so nicely into these boxes. and i don't think every autistic (or other neurodivergent) person will feel the same. yet. she was there for me. and was so, so important to me. people don't have to hc her as on the spectrum, but god, i sure do.
i love when chatacters, even on accident, can provide this for people. if you have a character like this, id love to hear about it in the tags / comments / reblogs etc!!!
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nhularin · 2 years
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WHATS AFTER LIKE ?! y.jw
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୨✩୧  O3. WHOS YUNJIN?!?!
SYNOPSIS Life is not easy as a rookie and you know that! After going viral with your fancam you have gained not only the attention of the public but also that of Enhypens cat like leader. What happens if you wake up one day with your names trending on twt ?!
DISCLAiMER this SUCKS i havent written a proper chapter in ages so its kind of dry and borderline cringy 😭😭 i hope it doesnt ruin the fic... im not good at putting my thoughts into words UEUEUEU also there are many grammar errors IM OSRRYYYYY not proofread!
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Today was the day both of you have been dreading.
Jungwon has never felt this nervous before. Sure, he almost lost his shit at their debut showcase but hell, meeting the girl his members fanboy over makes his heart beat uncontrollably. Why am i like this he thought, trying to ignore the foreign emotions bubbling inside him.
The sound of the AC was faintly audible in the background as he paces around the practice room, waiting for the blonde girl's arrival. Maybe coming here earlier was a bad idea.
"Jungwon sit down no need to be nervous" his manager scolded him.
He sighed and pulled out his phone.
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He immediately turned his phone off as he heard the door open, you, your manager and the choreographer entering the large room. His eyes immediately widened. Sunghoon was right, you were indeed prettier in person.
You looked around nervously, taking in the details of the room. As you and Jinhyuk (your manager) went up the stairs to the practice room, you couldnt help but grow more and more nervous.
Hybe is enormous, Jungwon is a global superstar, hell, the leader of the most promising group of this generation, and that at only age 18
you? You're merely a rookie who debuted not even half a year ago, still trying to figure out your place in this industry.
Once you entered the room, you saw Jungwon straighten up his posture staring at you with a blank expression. This definitely makes me feel better
You and your members have spent all evening searching up things Jungwon liked, from his hobbies down to his favorite food. You thought it was ridiculous, borderline creepy but wonyoung and Leeseo insisted that this would make you seem 'cool' and 'likable' (not that you arent already).
You were too busy worrying and overthinking that you didn't notice your manager speaking to you
"yn?" he called out, snapping you out of your little daydream,
'cute' Jungwon thought, looking down and slightly smirking. You looked like a deer in headlights, just more adorable.
'cute!?' he couldnt believe his thoughts could betray him. He'd rather die than admit that you, the reason why his names been trending EVERYWHERE , ARE attractive. get a grip jungwon he cheered himself up furrowing his eyebrows and puffing his cheeks.
You stood up, straightening your back. "Hello! I am IVE's Y/N its nice to meet you! I hope we will have a great time together" putting two thumbs up and smiling, your prominent dimple showing
Jungwon blinked repeatedly, flustered by your cuteness.
He tried to look anywhere but your face when he introduced himself, too scared to feel the same weird emotions again.
weird you thought.
"Its nice to finally meet you guys!" the choreographer exclaimed happily, opening the meeting with a grin on his face.
"As you guys already know, KCON LA is three weeks from now and fans are very eager to see IVE and Enhypen and whats better than seeing them separately? Together of course! Your managers have suggested a collab stage for each day since IVE is performing on the 3rd and enhypen on the 4th" he explained.
"the head of KCON has approved the stage and requested two different genres of songs which i think is amazing" he flipped open his binder, taking out four sheets.
"this is the schedule for the next two weeks. the collab stage will take place after IVE's Love Dive stage. You will perform LOVESONG by your seniors TXT. Y/N, you will open the stage with a short solo vocal performance, singing Taehyuns lines in eternal" he handed you the paper with the lyrics.
"then, Jungwon will join you, rapping yeonjuns verses. this will show your potential as a rapper! After that, there will be a small dance break and Lovesong will start. I have forwarded the choreography of the dance break to your managers.Are there any questions so far?"
You both shook your head.
"moving on, on the next day things will be a lot more relaxing. You both will be singing Polaroid love by, you guessed it, Enhypen!"
everyone laughed or smiled, you didnt know why though so you put on your best fake smile. Jungwon noticed this and rolled his eyes internally what a fool
"a cute little love song. This will also be the last performance of the event. Do you think you can handle this?"
As you were about to answer his question Jungwon was ahead of you "of course we can, i have faith in Y/N and i'm one hundred percent certain that we will be amazing"
You were shocked at how professional he sounded being a leader at such a young age really makes you grow up fast huh?
a few minutes passed and your managers seemed to be having an engaging conversation with the choreographer, leaving you guys sitting awkwardly in front of the mirror.
"Hey" you started. Getting a small hum as a response, he just looked at you blankly. Does he know about me and Sunghoon...? I swear it's not that serious...
You looked away in embarrassment. It kind of hurt a bit that hes acting so cold towards you. So far, you've been nothing but nice to him and this is what you get?
nice job y/n
"So...."
"So.." You bit your tongue, slowly regretting starting the conversation.
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"i think we should exchange numbers..if there are change of plans of course! and i think it'd be better if we get to know each other before the show to make things more comfortable!" you said with a big grin.
Jungwon looked conflicted. He tried to hide the fact that your smile affected him more than he wanted
After exchanging your numbers, Jungwon was about to leave out of the door when you stopped him
"i just wanted to say that i admire you a lot! we dont know each other but i've heard nothing but great things about you! it must have been really hard being a leader at yoour age and uhm... i dont really know why im saying this haha...hah...anyways let's have a great time together and make the best of it! We can do it!"
oh
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AUTHORS NOTE #ynwon? or...not!
TAGLiST req here if u want to be added! (italics cant be tagged)
@mytearsricoshey @lovelypitasworld @luvdokja @thaaiss89 @flower-lise @woneulz @itznotshy @smiles4jungwon @dimplewonie @novalpha @enha-writes @nyfwyeonjun @mintydayeon @ilovewonyo o @hoonswhore @jiheonies-moved @love-4-keum @mitsukifilms @calumsfringe @yenqa @elsoleil @notdrunkbutdazed @ahnneyong @s00b1nsworld @ritsusakumasgf @jnwonily @4vonly @sunooselca @emwonx @alderiasamantha @hrtsforbeomgyu @kkalechip @vatterie @mydearestbunnyiee @btwimmel @yjwsimp @thiccy-kawa @ak1e@jajjajas @rosabella1009 @dreamenvi @siamiese-y @i-yeseo @ksphnrk @i-kai @soobsdior @shinsou-rii @luvdaehyeon @myjaeyunn @urfaveuserlana @hoonieswrld @sunghxxnie @flwrsforriki @indelicate-macalino @seesaweun
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elumish · 1 year
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What Medical Stuff Feels Like (Scans and Stuff)
Content warning for general medical stuff, mention of IVs.
Also strong caveat that all of this is exactly one person's experience (mine) and so 1) may not be what you experience, 2) may not match up with other descriptions you've read, and 3) is not being written by a medical professional.
Ultrasound: For an ultrasound, they take an ultrasound wand (a one-handed thing with a smooth end and a wire attaching it to a machine), stick a bunch of goo on it, and then press it to whatever they're looking at and then have the machine collect images. The goo is usually cold, and they will usually apologize for it.
All of my experiences with this have been below the neck and above the pelvis. Depending on where they're pressing, it can hurt quite a bit--imagine having someone press something hard into your breast tissue or your ribs. How much it hurts definitely depends on what they're pressing on--things like the sternum and ribs hurt a lot more than places with a lot of fatty tissue.
You may or may not be shirtless for this--it depends on what they're looking for. For breast tissue or things in that range, you're generally in a patient shirt that you have either open over one breast or over both, and the other will sometimes be covered with a towel. For the rest of the abdomen, I've done it with my shirt pulled up and my pants down low enough for them to get to everything.
Once you're done, you wipe the goo off, but it also doesn't stain clothing (at least from my experience) and it doesn't irritate my skin. it just feels kind of weird.
I had to fast before an abdminal ultrasound but not a breast ultrasound, so it really depends.
My extremely hot take is that getting an abdominal ultrasound is my least favorite form of scan.
Echocardiogram: This is basically an ultrasound of your heart. That means the focus is on your left breast area, and if you have a lot of breast tissue, it means the tech is going to be awkwardly maneuvering it around/pressing on it pretty hard to get to the heart. I've had these twice--once, the tech was with a couple of doctors (or other techs? it's been like 8 years since then) and they were all making comments that I didn't understand about various parts of my heart. The second time, it was just the tech, and we occasionally made awkward small talk while he mashed an ultrasound wand into my breast.
Both of my echocardiogram techs have been men, and I will say that this is basically the least sexual experience you can have with a man while shirtless having them touch your breast. I think basically everywhere in the US you should be able to have an advocate in there with you, but I've never personally felt uncomfortable re: the shirtless in front of a male tech situation.
3D ultrasound: I once described a 3D ultrasound as if a dentist lamp was also a scanner and hated you. At least from the ones that I've experienced, they're essentially this weird giant thing that looks a lot like a dentist light on one of those moveable arms, and they cover everything with goo and then squish it against what they're taking scans of and then take the scans. It's less targeted than handheld ultrasounds but can get larger areas. I think there are also live 3D ultrasounds for things like pregnancy but I've never had that.
MRI: My favorite of the scans (unironically). For an MRI, you basically lie on a slab in a giant tube that makes horrible clanking noises for 45 minutes to an hour. Because they work using magnets, you can't have metal in or on you, so you have to take off all jewelry, earrings, etc. and then they ask a gazillion questions beforehand to make sure that there's nothing the magnets will disrupt (e.g., pacemaker) or will pull on (e.g., magnetic eyelashes). Twice, they had me change at least partially out of my street clothes; the last time I did it in my street clothes minus my bra, which felt vaguely illegal.
It's decently cold, so they generally offer a warmed blanket. At least for MRIs of the abdomen, there is a heavy thing that gets draped over your abdomen to basically make it pick up the images there (I don't really know how that works). To me, it feels kind of like a weighted blanket.
All of my MRIs have been since COVID started, though the first one was pre-masking; I wore a KN-95 in the MRI for my last one and had no issues re: the magnet.
Once you go in the tube, you basically just have to lie still for as long as the MRI goes. They will ask you if you are claustrophobic beforehand. It doesn't set of my claustrophia, but I imagine it happens a lot. They stick a ball in your hand for you to squeeze as basically an emergency stop/to notify them that you need out before it's done. They're also really bright, and at least from my experience, sometimes the paint is peeling a little. That doesn't matter, other than as something to stare at.
There are also headphones so they can give you instructions. For two of the three MRIs, they also played music (I listed to Taylor Swift for the last one). The headphones are kind of noise canceling, but nothing can block out the clanking, of which there is a lot, of various types, very loudly. The instructions will vary; one of the things they have you do for abdominal MRIs is hold your breath out, which feels very weird and is actually surprisingly hard--basically instead of inhaling and holding your breath, you exhale and then don't breathe back in until they tell you to. I can never hold it for as long as they say to, but it's never been an issue (at least as far as they've told me).
For some MRIs, they use contrast. Generally (maybe always?) they say that it's "with and without contrast" which means that they do the majority of it without contrast, and then they put the contrast in and take some more images. To get contrast, you need an IV, which they put in before you get in the machine. They attach the IV to a coil-y tube, which extends when you get moved into the machine. They generally hook it around your hand so it stays in place/doesn't pull against the IV site.
Contrast feels very weird. Someone mentioned this in one of the reblogs for the stabby stuff post, but basically it gets processed by your body really quickly so it goes to your bladder really quickly and also feels warm so it sort of feels like you've wet yourself. They warn you before they put it in.
Unironically, I find MRIs kind of relaxing, because you just lie still for like an hour under a weighted blanket. 4/10 would pick over the other options.
I have had a CT scan done but don't really remember it so would love someone to weigh in on those.
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kaeyapilled · 1 year
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hey! your kaeya takes are so real!!! I was wondering if you had any good fic recs?? I want to read something that has good kaeya characterization (+bonus if it's ragbros that isn't just them crying and hugging it out like you were talking about) and am tired of scrolling through tags
!! omg thank you im so honored to hear that people like my takes lol
fic recs huh!! i have some!! do you mind it if most of them are about child kaeya? (i hadnt realized how many of my bookmarks focused on his childhood until i went through them all lmao) hopefully it isnt all stuff youve already read before! here goes:
A Horse Makes for a Stable Life by FollowerofMercy – Wanting to test the boundaries of his host’s goodwill, Kaeya asks for a pony for his birthday. He didn’t expect Crepus to deliver. Or, the story in which things get uncomfortably real for young Kaeya.
do you like kaeya and crepus interactions!! because this fic explores their dynamic in suuuuch a nice way that felt very refreshing to see portrayed!! perfect ratio of hurt to comfort in my opinion. overall quite lighthearted compared to my other recs though lol. good exploration of kaeyas inner conflict since a young age. yeah i love it and recommend it
I'm gonna miss your love when it's gone by imaginarypasta – A selection of scenes from Kaeya's childhood related to his relationships with his fathers, and all they have led him to be.
this one is so good!!!! i feel like its rare to see kaeyas biological father portrayed as anything other than a heartless asshole, and this fic explored kaeyas relationship with him in such a nice manner that makes for a very melancholic and. i guess bittersweet story that takes into consideration the nuance of the situation in a way that i really dont see super often. the parts about kaeyas relationship w crepus are also really well done i love it. oh and the khaenri'ah lore the author takes some liberty with is really really interesting!!
not bad for a walk on death's doorstep by b_attery – Fear is a knife’s edge. Fear is a killer. Fear is how you know you’re still alive.
my bookmark of this work said "literally the best kaeya character study ive ever read" and honestly i still stand by that. the word flow is great and the exploration of fear as such an intrinsic part of kaeya's life and as the driving force for most of his actions and feelings and responses. it's so good!!! this one contemplates kaeyas childhood both before and after his arrival in mondstadt and goes until after diluc's return. absolutely recommend it!!
Hundred-Watt Light by pepperjuice – A story about ten years of contingency plans and holding your own hand. (Because how else are you supposed to live with a weight too big to hold all alone?)
this. this rewired my brain forever. this holds the title of best kaeya character study ever along with the previous one i talked about. definitely mind the tags because it primarily deals with suicidal ideation and thoughts so, if that's a trigger then it's best to not read this one lol but still it is SO good and it explores kaeya's inner conflicts and awful coping mechanisms after having such a heavy burden thrusted upon him at an extremely early age with no good support of any kind. i absolutely love this fic it's very dear to me and i think about it sooo often it truly altered my brain chemistry
things fall apart by kernsing – Happy eighteenth, Diluc.
finally some ragbros content! sadly it isnt the reconciliation you asked for it's about when things fell apart. this is one of my favorite ever renditions of how it all went down on That Day - it reshaped some of my own headcanons, actually. this one is more from diluc's pov than kaeya's, and it's written really really well, and explores diluc's grief over his father's death in SUCH an amazing and interesting way!! and the way it parallels kaeya's own emotions and that is exactly what causes them to fight is extremely tasty i loved it. read it it's good
okay i can probably find some more but this is enough for one post i think. deeply sorry for not delivering the good ragbros reconciliation content.. i tbh haven't gathered a lot.. but i hope you and whoever else reads this enjoys these! thank you for the ask <3
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syrikif · 7 months
Text
Gamer Etiquette
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Kodzuken x Streamer!Y/N
Pairing: Kenma Kozume x Fem!Reader
Genre: SMAU, Written Elements, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Fluff, Humor, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Streamer/Youtuber AU
Upcoming content creator/streamer, Y/N, has gone viral for lots of things. Her infamous dumb moments, her blended cookie recipe (which tastes better than it sounds), the way she rages at her friends during games, and about a hundred more.
But her most recent viral moment? Accidentally knocking famous streamer, Kodzuken, off the Bedwars map and making him lose his two year winning streak.
Now with more attention (and hate) than she ever asked for, her only option left is to go to the source: the man himself, Kenma Kozume.
Previous | Masterlist | Next
Chapter 2 (a): Bedwars
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Word Count: 2171
“Hey guys,” you smile at your webcam, “How’s everyone’s night been so far?” You adjust to get just a bit more comfortable, wrapping your favorite blanket around your legs as you observe their responses in chat. 
“Oh my god you had sushi for dinner? That sounds so good.” You lean forward to get a closer look, “Awe thank you. I tried so hard to do my makeup today,” you inform everyone when you see a compliment fly past. “It took me like four business days to finish my eyeliner,” you roll your eyes at the memory. 
You start humming softly as you read through chat, prompting everyone to start spamming for music and making you smile. “Okay okay, I get it guys I’ll put some music on.” 
You pull open Spotify, selecting one of your favorite non-copyrighted playlists, “Is that loud enough? Oh- too loud?” You turn it down by about twenty percent, “Is that better?”
You grin, letting yourself relax against the back of your chair. “I don’t really have a plan for the stream; I just wanted to kind of chat for a little bit, explain why I was in the hospital and stuff.” 
YOU WERE IN THE HOSPITAL????
You laugh when you see the message, realizing too late that you’d probably just dropped a bomb on everyone who doesn’t follow you on any of your other social media. “Oh yeah, sorry guys.” You suddenly snort, “Did someone just say I was in hospice for being dumb?” 
You shake your head subconsciously, “Even funnier though is that they’re kind of right.” 
You reach forward to grab the bottle of water resting on your desk, “Don’t worry it’s not anything serious. Like at all.” You pause to take a brief sip of the iced liquid, cringing at how cold it is when it enters your mouth. “Holy shit,” you shudder, “That was so fucking cold.” 
You take a deep breath to regain your composure.
“Anyways, so basically I fell and hit my head yesterday and my friends just wanted to take me to the hospital to make sure I didn’t get a concussion or anything. And then it turned out that I was actually - like - super dehydrated so they wanted to give me an IV drip to get some fluids in me.” You lift your water bottle pointedly, “Hence the new addition to the stream.” 
Normally you’d rarely ever have water during a stream, and if you did it was kept in a much smaller bottle. It’s different now though (your roommate made sure of that) since your current water bottle is big enough to cover your entire face if you were to hold it up. 
“But now I am a-okay and in perfect condition. Well, mostly anyways.” 
You spend some time just singing along to the music and responding to some of the messages you see in chat. You feel yourself relaxing as you talk with everyone, your tense shoulders loosening and your voice growing just a bit louder as you get more comfortable. 
You’re always nervous to stream at first, despite having done it hundreds of times by now. You don’t think you’ll ever not be nervous to be completely honest. It was such a surreal experience, to be able to be so closely connected with so many different people from so many different places, that you were terrified of ever losing it. 
“Oh my god you guys. So I made some pumpkin muffins with chocolate chips in them the other day and they are literally like the best thing I’ve probably ever baked in my life.” 
Better than your blended cookies?
You roll your eyes, “Oh ha ha; you guys act like you’ve tried it. I promise you all that it’s literally ten times better than it sounds. I’ll have to post the recipe at some point because I genuinely think a lot of you would love them.” 
I can attest to that ✋
“Sho,” you excitedly exclaim as you see your friend’s username. “You guys know Shoyo right?” You feel your head tilt, watching the varying responses flood your chat box. “Well if you don’t know who he is, he’s literally - like - famous for playing volleyball.” 
I love Hinata! I met him once and he was so nice.
You nod rapidly in agreement, “Yes! He’s seriously gotta be the nicest person I’ve ever met.” 
“Do you want to get on call with me?” You direct the question towards your close friend, subconsciously biting your lip as you await his answer. 
Still at practice unfortunately 🙁
You pout, “Oh no.” With a small sigh, “I just don’t know what to do now. You got any suggestions, chat?”
You read as many messages as you can, eyebrows furrowing further the longer you sit there. 
“I’m seeing a lot of minecraft; do we wanna play a bit of minecraft?” You hum in thought, swaying in your chair as you consider the idea. “How about Bedwars?”
Chat practically erupts at your words, capitalized letters and emotes flying by so fast that you don’t get any chance to read a single one. “Okay okay,” you laugh, “I get it.” 
You set your water bottle back down, adjusting your keyboard to sit properly before grabbing your mouse. “Let’s play some Bedwars I guess.” 
~~~
“Fuck you!” 
You groan as you release your mouse, throwing your head back in annoyance as you die yet once again. 
“How the fuck do I keep on dying? Literally what the fuck!” You chance a glance at your chat, hiding a smile at their reaction to your raging. You’ll admit it, while you are actually frustrated with the game, you’re definitely playing it up just a little bit for your audience. 
You don’t wait for the round to end after you die, leaving the game and immediately running to join another one. You’ve been playing in teams of three, hoping that having the extra assistance would help you stay alive longer. 
So far it’s proved to be completely futile. 
“We’re definitely gonna win this one you guys,” you say just as the round begins. “Me-,” you pause to look at your teammate’s usernames, “PinkyFluff_22 and Kodzuken are going to absolutely demolish everyone else.” 
What did she just sayyyyyyy 😳
I’m sorry you and WHO????
No way she’s playing with who I think she’s playing with
One in a million chance lol
Wtf
“What is everyone freaking out about?” You question as you patiently wait to collect some iron and gold, watching one of your teammates begin to cover the bed with a measly defense of red wool. “Kodzuken?”
You buy some wood and Endstone from the villager before purchasing a slightly better sword than the wooden one you were given. “Oh they stream?”
Girl 💀
How do you not know who he is?????
“Bro I don’t know,” you shrug, “I just work here okay.” 
You sprint over to the bed, breaking the wool to replace it with the Endstone, layering the wood on top, and then finally placing the wool around it again. “I guess I’ll be bed defense then,” you say as you notice that you’re the only person left on the island. 
“Oh shit someone’s coming!” You duck behind the giant cube of wool, watching the name tag get progressively closer to your island. You jump out as soon as you feel like they’re close enough, attacking the unaware oncomer and knocking them off the island within a few easy hits. 
“Fuck yeah!” You jump around excitedly, proud of the way your plan was actually successful this time. “See that? I told you I’m not bad!” 
You abruptly flinch as your character turns and comes face to face with another player. “Holy shit!” You release a sigh of relief as you realize it’s only your teammate, Kodzuken. “That scared me so bad. Oh my god,” you release your mouse briefly to place your hand on your chest. 
While you’re distracted trying to calm your heartbeat, Kodzuken suddenly stops before you. “What is he doing?” But before you even have time to be suspicious he suddenly drops a pile of diamonds and emeralds on the ground. 
You blink.
“Huh?” He looks pointedly at the gems then back up at you and back down, lightly tapping the block they’re floating on. “Is he giving them to me?” 
You glance over at your chat, your character finally going into motion when you realize they’re all screaming at you to go pick them up. “Jesus, sorry. I got them, see? Look, I’m picking them up right now.” 
You collect everything on the ground, crouching and un-crouching multiple times as a way to thank him. “Oh- shit,” you pause as a popup suddenly appears, “Stupid sticky keys!” 
By the time you manage to exit out of the window, Kodzuken is nowhere to be found. “Well,” you look at your webcam, “That was unexpected.” 
You quickly open game chat to send him a private message as fast as you possibly can. 
“Thanks :)”
It’s the best you can do with the little time you have but you hope he appreciates it nonetheless. 
“Okay, I’m gonna up our bed defense.” You repeat the earlier process all over again, only this time you add obsidian and make the outer layer made of wood. “Now that’s like literally impenetrable.” 
You upgrade your sword to a bow and arrows before purchasing some TNT and fireballs and buying the Miner’s Fatigue trap. “Now the real question is whether I try to attack the bases next to us or not.” 
Attackkkkkk
You’re gonna die
Kill them
We believe in you
“I guess it’s decided then,” you quickly shake out your hands. “Okay,” your voice fades as you run across the bridge you could only assume one of your teammate’s made. 
You’re extremely quiet as you make your way across, keeping your eyes on the island next to you and turning back every now and then to check on your own. You’re biting your lip as you slowly make your way across the rival team’s bridge, crouching the entire time to hide your name. 
You’re roughly twenty blocks away when you take the next step. Still crouching, you aim a fireball at their seemingly wool covered bed. “Yes!” You cheer as it makes its mark, blowing up the wool and revealing wood below it. 
You know that you’ve alerted the players at this point (there’s no way you haven’t) so all you can do is run into the fire. 
You’re panicking as you place some TNT around the bed, running away and into a player from the enemy team as it explodes. You use your mediocre sword to hit them away from you, mentally sighing as they get hit back enough for you to run away. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god,” you sprint towards the now revealed blue bed. 
“Blue Bed was destroyed by Soft_Paws!”
You squeal out of both fear and excitement, adrenaline racing through you as you’re attacked by two of the blue players at once. You throw a fireball at them, shouting for joy when one of them is successfully knocked off the island. 
“Holy shit!”
The next player is harder to kill, your health rapidly deteriorating as you battle with nothing but a stone sword and your adrenaline. 
You have one heart left when it finally happens.
“Ecstasy.png was killed by Soft_Paws”
“Yes!” You kick your feet out, jumping up from your chair with your excitement before remembering that you’re still in a game. “Holy fuck I did it. I actually did it, you guys!” 
She’s CRACKED
LETS GOOOO
WOOOOO
YEEEEESSSSSS
~~~
Roughly five minutes later, you’re still in the round. Everyone’s bed has been broken at this point but there are still three teams that are yet to be eliminated, yours included. 
You’re sort of just hiding at the base, watching the chaos from afar as your one and only teammate left (Kodzuken) goes on a murder spree. 
He’s running back to the team’s island when the incident occurs.
All you see is yellow leather armor and a yellow name tag, sprinting on the bridge connecting your base to the emerald island. You don’t even consider the fact that they’re currently being chased down by your teammate, you just aim. 
Your aim is exceptionally good, so good in fact that the explosion knocks off both the yellow player and Kodzuken. 
You freeze at the realization, your mouth falling open in complete horror as you piece together what you’d just done.
“I did not just do that,” you whisper, mostly to yourself as the events replay in your mind. “Oh my god,” you facepalm - forgetting (once again) that you’re still actually alive and participating in the game - and completely missing the person running towards you on the other bridge. 
You hear the sound of something being attacked, echoing through your headphones and making your eyebrows furrow with confusion. 
You abruptly gasp, but by then it’s too late. 
You’re dead. And your team has lost.
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Taglist: @crazy-people-are-here, @existential-traveller, @peachesncats, @royalz658
Any names in bold are unable to be tagged.
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late ask BUT director's cut for a home for two?
fuck, anon. you don't know what can of worms you just opened.
i was going to keep this concise to one point but upon rereading it for the first time in a while i just....have too much to say about a home for two.
it's my all time favorite fic ive ever written, if it's not obvious.
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firstly, i want to bring up these snippets (STARTING OFF STRONG....SORRY)
these were the moments where error finally started opening up to paperjam. and they mean a lot to me.
his personality is finally starting to shine through; his stubbornness and hotheaded-ness. it's the moments where it was clear that this kid wasn't as closed off as paperjam thought and had a personality masked by trauma and anxiety.
after so much struggle, seeing his personality finally peak through sends pj (and hopefully the reader) into fondness.
i love the little details. I KNOW I WROTE IT. but i love the little details.
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these snippets were the moments where error started expressing his safety and trust towards pj
he's really made a lot of progress over the course of the few days in the fic, and seeing him finally feel the safety and love he deserves makes me so....AGH. AAGRGRGHG.
the entire fic is so tense and mildly stressful that finally writing down error's new found stability makes me so mushy and gushy!! god
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i didn't emphasize it a lot but paperjam really didn't talk to error like most people would towards a four-year-old.
and that's not a bad thing! in fact, the opposite!
this is partly because paperjam is unprepared and does not know how to talk to children, but talking to kids like real, actual people and not dumbing everything down for them is actually really beneficial to their learning and growth process! (iirc, that is)
this scene and the dialogue earlier in it also really showed paperjam's frustrations. he's not perfect in any way, and he almost took it out then and there on error through a stern talking.
neither of it was their fault, of course. just a lot of misplaced love and stress from everything.
i like making my characters feel like people. and pj is such.....a person. i love him dearly.
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i could gush about toriel forever in any instance about the way she acts like such a mom, not just this fic. but mostly this fic.
i love toriel. if i could grab every toriel scene in the fic, i would. but one example is enough, and this one shows the best of her.
her fondness, her motherly attitude, her jokes, and her pride towards pj. god i love toriel in this fic i LOVE TORIEL DREEMURR!!!!!!!!!!
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i just think this is important. :p
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"holy shit they said the thing"
i think title drops are funny lol
ANYWAY YEAH. i had a lot to say about it LOL. i love a home for two and i reread my fics a lot, and this one is the one i reread the most. im so so so proud of it.
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eggsploded · 9 months
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moar you say.. why then gregor and rodya of coarse....
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where would i be without rodigor. where would WE be, without rodigor.
first impression: THE fuckin guy. this dude owns. (insert 50 invasive questions about cockroach anatomy and behavior) i was peeved his roach arm resembled more of a beetle horn than a arm
current impression: when chef greg dropped i got so horny i went to bed lightheaded i still love gregor dearly but my love for him has mellowed like the fondness for a favorite pasta dish.
favorite moment: literally every old fart moment he has. when he forgets names when he berated sinclair for not cleaning his plate when he goes uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh in his dialogue because he doesnt know where hes going with this
story idea: despite his deep frying and boiling during hells chicken i think the bus kinda Likes this guy. gregors a bit of a hot commodity. hes just a fella you can Jive with. a real Stand Up guy. now let him be loved, if obliviously through his own self consciousness. a friendly heathcliff rough slap on the back delays his depressive episode by 15 minutes
fav relationship: oh boy where to start!!!! rodigor. enough on that. meurgreg, not really romantic to me but i like the art of it that is. it revolves around a big fella carrying him under his arm so automatic slay. ive seen a little gregcliff action on the TL but its more of a 'work got me friends with people twice my age like whats uncle greg up to' ordeal to me. now lets get insane. gregsang is incredible to me because yi sang is the only mf on that bus EASIER than gregor. gregor got game? that hes aware of? while stuttering the whole journey? its kind of crazy. i dont actually have a reason why they would even like eachother yet but put rodya in there somewhere to toy with them if you want true crackshipping fun
fav headcanon: hes a little chunky
RODYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my favit
first impression: me furiously searching for her height on the wiki + nodding my head sagely deciding woman with sleepy eyes is peak character design (faust included). i trust her wholeheartedly even if she leads me hand in hand into a woodchipper
current impression: waiting for projmoon to drop more lore on her desperately because i know canto 2 wasnt everything. i feel a disconnect with the fanbase about her because i see rodya characterized sooooo differently than how i think of her. the gambling thing and her effortless confidence for example isnt really questioned like how it is with dons bravado. i see her gambling as an outlet for her complicated views on money. she feels as though being financially 'secure' as the lone survivor as a betrayal to all the deaths she caused. gambling not only aligns with her current im the hottest shit attitude but also is a way for her to not be responsible for money. the hoarding of wealth is what caused her community to starve, why would she want to do something that seems to harm others? shes very self destructive, and feigning as slots star is just one of the ways she forces herself to 'stay in the cold'. ummmmmmmmm anyway im really normal about rodya and think about her a normal amount also her love for decadant food really resonates with me as someone who was poor in childhood because the difference between eating to live and living to eat is Astronomical
favorite moment: shes started branching out and calling other people than greg pet names and it is so exciting. faust has now reached babe status!! good for her!!! also when she infantalizes sinclair its terrible for him but REALLY funny for me when he responds back and reminds her oh right this is a 22 year old man. also her random interjections that are socialist ideology are really funny because they always feel so fucking random and like projmoon is remembering why crime and punishment was written and going drop this bomb ass line itll go so hard guys
story idea: i want her to play poker against yi sang because hes weird and also his poker face is like. genuine and dear adoration for being able to play with his companions because deep in his soul is gardens and butterflies. she would be so freaked out not only because this guy agreed to playing poker but also because he is invasively (he didnt mean it) staring into her SOUL to find solutions
fav relationship: my thoughts are half the bus are in love with gregor and the other half with rodya with cases of overlap. rodya is so epic because shes seemingly got it together to the more deranged sinners but to anyone else its like oh my god this paper mache bitch the former being more faustish the latter being more ryoshuish. faustya is cute because faust initially wanted to absorb more Bad Bitch Strategems and then kinda got a crush and is hardcore malfunctioning also kurokumo ryodion got sumn GOING yall crazy love is love though
fav headcanon: shes actually really short for Lobotomy Corp Backstreets Russia and everyone there is just freakishly tall (see: sonya)
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dckweed · 2 years
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hey!! could you please write a hopper x reader smut fic where he is a service dom and the reader is incredibly needy. Age gap if you are comfortable, i was thinking along the lines of the reader is needy at the most inconvenient times but Hopper is a giver hehe. If not, totally fine :) thank you
you got it bby!! pls im a living breathing age gap rn, my soon to be husband is 43 next month and im 23 in September! i quite fondly love to write them as well (within legal age limits ofc!), though im not too versed in what a service dom is but I think i pretty much get the gist of it..
not gonna lie im actually hecka excited for this, this is my first smut fic ive written in so so long, and it's right off the top of my head too bc bet ive been getting my horny ideas gathered all day from the deep dark depths of tumblr-whorism (please, don't act like y'all aren't little sluts for this site). this is actually so long holy shit and definitely not my greatest but better then i was actually expecting it to be.
warnings: age gap reader ( legal age) x dom!Jim Hopper, rough sex, spanking, maybe some choking in there, definite unprotected sex (pls don't go without a condom folks, unless you're actually wanting a child, this is strictly for fictional pleasure purposes only), cream pie, cheerleader kink? is that a thing? semi-public sex..maybe some size kink? maybe thicc reader bc as a curvy girl, ive noticed there's no curvy girl reader fics for him out here. squirting.
anywhore, i present you with:
'ALWAYS SO FUCKIN' NEEDY BABYGIRL..' jim hopper x female reader
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Now look, your previous lovers wouldn't have called you an overly needy individual, some would have even called you lame (and it was entirely their fault for not knowing how to fucking handle you), but if there was one thing you knew for certain it was that Jim Hopper would have absolutely everything to say against their statements. God, you knew he thought you were fucking annoying half the time, you and your needy fucking cunt begging for him at the most inopportune times, but what could you say? Something about Hop just fucking brought out the whore in you. Maybe it was the authority that swelled off of him in waves, maybe it was the way that he was so much bigger than you, and anyone you'd ever been with or maybe it was the excitement of how much older than you he was, or the thrill of not getting caught. You couldnt pin it down, nor did you really want to. You loved what you had with Hopper, and honestly you think you're starting to fall in love with him too, not that you'd tell him that. But you'd like to think that he loved what you guys had too, despite how fucking needy you could be.
He wouldn't ever complain though, because really he loved it, he loved the way your begged for him, the way your pussy fit around him so fucking perfectly it was like a glove molded perfectly to fit him, to please him in anyway that he saw fit, and it never disappointed, and he always made sure his babygirl was fucked so good that it made her stupid, it was quite honestly one of his favorite pass times, he loved it, and he thought that he even loved you too, despite the age difference.
If he brought out the whore in you, you brought out the animal in him, and the animal was already thrashing against it's cage, ready to be released into the wild to claim what's his. He sat on the bleachers, he was plain clothed tonight, harder to recognize but not for you. Your eyes were drawn to him, no matter what sized crowd or what you were doing, and tonight, well, you couldn't look away from him, your eyes boring into him like the heat from a million fires, the same heat that you felt boiling in the pit of your groin .God, you thought, you really did get needy for him at the worst times.
It was the first football game of the season, and you were out on the field in the midst of your first halftime routine. Now that you were finally in your senior year, and now that you were finally eighteen, you had been made head cheerleader. You had taken the task to heart, updating some of your dances, changing your uniforms from the ill fitting sweaters to the cuter, cropped tops that hugged your torso perfectly but still left little to the imagination, hell you had even held a cheer camp over the summer (that hop had made every excuse to come visit), which included auditions. You had even gone so far as to ad the most muscular looking boys you could find as well, as bases for better stunts. You had plans this year, you wanted to win some competitions, put your names out there, and if you were being honest, you were pretty proud of your work.
It was evident in the way that you swayed your hips to the new beats of your guys' tracks, evident in the way that shit eating smirk slid across your face as you looked in the crowd over your shoulder, the one that clearly stated that you knew you were hot fucking shit. You could feel his eyes on you, following your every move, it only drove you to go harder, to make sure every step was perfect, every last beat until you finally finished in the air, one of your male bases holding you up, hands firmly gripping your foot and ankle on one leg as the other was stretched up by your head as you and the rest of the girls screamed 'GO TIGERS!' at the top of your lungs as you let your base pop you off, throwing you into the air before catching you.
"Your boyfriend is here." One of the girls, one of your friends, Susie, teases once you're all on the ground. You feel your face flush, okay, so maybe one person had caught you guys, but thankfully she wasn't dumb enough to go blabbing all over town. She snickered, rolling her eyes at you before turning you around and pushing your shoulder forward. "Go get him, I can smell the horny radiating off of you, I can handle the last of the routines."
You were going through make a noise of protest, but good heavens she was fucking right, you could practically feel your need for him dripping out of your cheer panties. You look for him in the crowd, but he's not in his spot. With a pout you put your hands on your hips, before quickly going off field and around the side of the stands, in the pale brightness of the stadium lights you find him slowly making his way towards the parking lot, his leather jacket a giveaway that it was him.
"Hop!" You call out, jogging to catch up to him, he stops, turns slightly to look at you. Your tits bouncing in all of their glory, your skirt bouncing too, showing off the shake of your thick thighs that he loved to bury himself between. You see his fist clench, and his throat move as if swallowing deeply. "I wasn't expecting to see you here..enjoy the show?" You ask, hopping onto his back.
Hop grunts at the action, his hands going immediately to your thighs to keep you from falling, holding back a groan at the way you squeezed him in response. He could have taken you right then and there, your little show had been more than enough for his cock to stiffen terribly, infact he was on his way to take care of it in his car, he thought you wouldn't notice him leave. "Sure did, babygirl." He says, continuing to walk a little bit, though this time he headed towards the school building. He had a feeling where this was going, and he couldn't risk it in the school parking lot. "Thought id come see you after how hard you worked all summer, glad I did."
You hummed, appreciative at the slight praise, leaning your chin on his shoulder. You breathed in his scent, and you couldn't help but squirm. Something about the way he smelled had always turned you on, and god, you were already turned on enough by him as it was. You wondered if he knew that, he always seemed to know, he could read your body like it was his favorite book. He squeezed your thighs, a silent warning to stop moving, the small action, the feel of the his large, rough hands on your bare skin cause a small whimper to escape your lips, right near his ear.
You felt him stiffen beneath you, his stride stuttering for the briefest second before continuing. "Are you such a fucking cock whore that you're needy for me in the middle of your halftime show? At your fucking school no less?" He asks quietly, his voice gruff. He knew you, he knew by the way you were staring at him in the bleachers, and he knew by the way you hummed at his praise, he knew that you fucking wanted him. And as he'd been learning since just a few weeks after your eighteenth birthday last Christmas, always at the most inappropriate times. Almost a whole year and he still couldn't get his fill of you, nor you him it always seemed. He wondered if he ought to do something special for you sometime..
You groan at his words, and as he swung open the side door of the school, near the locker rooms and a few classrooms, you felt yourself grow wetter. You knew, that per usual, you were about to get exactly what you wanted from your chief, and you couldn't fucking wait. Suddenly you felt a sharp sting on the bottom of your thigh, and you yiped. He had smacked it. "Answer me, babygirl, use your fucking words or ill take you right back out to that field, horny and frustrated and ill leave you like that until i decide you're worthy of the pleasure you want from me." He knew just what to say to get you going, just the right words to use, and just the right tone of voice.
You whimper at his voice, his words just barely echoing in the dark, empty halls of your school. "Yes, Jim," you groan out, trying not to grind against his back as you feel his muscles move underneath of you and his coat, giving you just the faintest hint of friction that you so desperately needed. "I'm such a needy fucking whore that I want you to fuck me dumb right here, in my school, during my show..please baby..please i need you.." you practically begged, your voice dripping with the want of your arousal.
As usual, hopper can't help but give in. He finds a classroom with the least amount of windows, facing away from the parking lots and the fields..dark, and once he gets the door open, he drops you from his back, pushing you in before closing the door.
His coat is off in an instant, dropped to the ground as he stalks towards you, trapping your short, curvy frame between him and the teachers desk with his large, muscular arms. You stared up at him, eyes wide and innocent looking, though he knew you of all people were the farthest thing from it.
He grabbed your face in one of his hands, the other sliding all the way down to your short skirted ass to grab a handful of the meaty flesh it was trying so desperately to adorn, as he pulled you in for a rough, heated kiss. You groaned, the stubble of his beard and mustache tickling your face, making you ache to feel it between your thighs, though you knew you didn't have time for that.
You reach down, your hands fumbling with the button of his jeans before you finally get it, unzipping and pushing the tight fabric down his thick, muscular thighs. You brushed your hand against his already raging hard on, your fingers hooking in the waist band of his underwear to push them down, sinking down to your knees with them. Or trying to anyway, Jim's hand goes straight to your neck, wrapping around it gently, but firmly as he pulls you right back up, damn near making you cream your self at the action.
You see him shake his head in the pale light the moon provides, and you pout. "No time, baby," He says, patting the desk behind you. "Ass up here," He says, hand still in your throat, ensuring you do as you're told. Immediately his hands move your cheer panties to the side, the thick material soaking wet with your arousal. "Oh fuck baby.." He groans, feeling how wet you were with just a brush of his fingertips. "Already dripping fucking wet for me, huh?" He says, voice low and husky, just the way you like it. He doesnt you the time to answer, you feel the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your soft, wet cunt, coating himself in you. You moan at the feel of it, bucking your hips up just ever so slightly, inviting him in to you like the greedy, cock hungry whore you were for him.
You didn't have to wait much longer because before you knew it, you felt yourself stretching around his long, thick cock, taking it all in inch, by fucking inch until you swallowed it up whole. You couldnt help but clench around him, keeping him in place for a moment, with a quick squeeze of your throat, you let him go. Without warning he he pulls almost all the way out of you, before giving a strong, sharp thrust back in. You gasp, your eyes closing and your legs spreading wider to take him. "Oh fuck, baby.." You whimper as he does once more, twice more..
You feel his hand tighten and a low guttural sound escape him, and fuck it just sounds so good that you feel yourself start to drip down his balls from how fucking turned on you were by him in that moment.
"Always so fuckin' needy, babygirl." He grunts out, feeling you drip down him, hearing his skin slap against your own. He grips your hip almost meanly, using it to hold you in place, his fingers digging into you in such a way that he knows he's leaving bruised in your perfect skin. "Always take me so fucking good while I fuck you silly, don't you?" He coos, looking down at you. He keeps a steady, unforgiving pace and he knows he must be hitting every fucking spot inside of you because you can't even form sentences for him right now, just a string of grunts and half thought words as your thighs tighten around his waist, holding him there.
"Such a needy fucking cock whore, always wanting me when you can't fucking have me.." He continues to grunt, his eyes never leaving your face. He feels you start to spasm around him, and fuck that almost sends him over the edge because even in the dark you look like a fucking goddess having the brain fucked out of you underneath of him like this. "Always wanting me in places where everyone will know..you want all of those silly boys to know that only a real man knows how to fuck you right? Hm? Is that it?"
Another few moments and you're coming unraveled beneath him, coming so hard that he feels you vibrating under him, but he's not done, not yet. "Good fucking girl, getting so drunk on my fucking cock.." He says, praising you in all the ways he knew you liked. "You look so fucking gorgeous coming undone under me like that..fuck, I want to see it one more time baby..ready?" Before you can answer, hell, before you can even start to see straight again, he starts moving inside of you again, the same pace as before. Your already overstimulated pussy practically begs him to stop, but god, it still swallows him up so well that he can't bring himself to.
"Holy fuck, Jim.." You manage to spit out, your head rolling back, but your eyes never leaving him. "Oh fuck baby you feel so fucking good, i love it when you feed my greedy pussy every fucking inch of you.." You spit out despite the hand that's back around youer throat. His hand is at the top of your throat, thumb and fingers digging into your face as he drags your head up to his, sitting you up in more of a way that gives him better access to you. He kisses you deeply, the action muffling the small scream of pleasure that comes from you as he manages to hit your sweet spot every single time now, turning you back into a dumb babbling mess almost immediately. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..' You groan out, feeling your second orgasm start to hit you like nothing you've ever felt before. "Ohmygodohmygod.." You managed to squeak out, feeling the overwhelming orgasm actually splash out of you, squirting all over the both of you.
"Holy fucking shit babygirl.." Jim grunts out, looking down between you both. That was probably the hottest thing you'd ever fucking done on him. "Oh fuck..shit..im gonna fill that needy pussy up so fucking good baby, and then im gonna take you home and we're gonna fuck until i make you do that again.." He grunts, feeling himself start to follow you over the proverbial edge. "Fucking hottest shit I've ever seen you do, such a fucking whore for me that you actually squirted.."
You groan loudly, overstimulated, over fucked, and excited by the sheer fact that he had pretty much just promised to fuck you into oblivion once he got you into his bed tonight. "Fucking hell baby, please fill me up, please jim i want your cum so fucking bad baby please let me feel it all...fucking over me..just like that baby.." You groan out, damn near coming a third time. You felt him come so hard that it hit your walls and immediately started falling out of you with him still in you, still going.
After a few more moments, he stills, panting as he leans over you, bringing your mouth to his in a sloppy, passionate kiss. God, you fucking loved him.
He starts to chuckle as he leans his head against yours. "Holy fuck, babygirl..you're so doing that again for me tonight.." He says, pulling his pants back up before helping you stand, only to have to carry you on his back again when he realized how weak your legs were.
"Fuck, Hop..that was...fucking intense.." You manage to get out, not even arguing as he places you into his truck. You really hoped Susie was smart enough to realize where you were and to cover for you with your parents if they asked, because you knew there was no way in hell you were going home to yours tonight.
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cptindanvers · 2 years
Text
as this season ends [you pt. 2]
summary: you get over what you can’t fix. but bandaids can’t stitch things back to how they were.
pairing: steve harrington x reader
notes: big ANGST!! hurt/comfort, a lot of relationship building & slow burn. slightly canon-divergent for the ~drama~
word count: 3.7k!! buckle in buds
a/n: WOOOOOO it’s been a while!! this part is really different from the first one but im very proud of both of them (you pt1 is one of my fav fics ive written) but my writing style has changed a lot and i really hope this part doesnt bore anyone,, im a fan of longer works and am really happy with how this part turned out :)
buy me a kofi!
read part 1 here! / masterlist
Autumn had taken longer to come this year. The sticky summer heat slowly dissipated as the leaves turned brown and the temperature dropped steadily. Cool air greeted you every time you stepped outside; the pre-winter chill was beginning to teeter on uncomfortable, rippling wind bringing back painful memories.
For the first time in a long time, things were comfortable - as much as they could be. The ache in your heart subsided as the months grew on, and you accepted the relationship between Steve and Nancy.
Honestly, you had forced yourself to push down any negative emotions you most certainly felt - seeing the way Steve and Nancy looked at each other felt like a pat on the back and a punch in the face all at once. They were clearly happy together; that was all you wanted for your friends, right? Plus, Steve had changed, so much. Some nights you wished you were the one who could’ve brought that change. You wished you were good enough to make him want to be better.
But you didn’t let it hurt you anymore.
You were more than content with your relationships now - Steve and Nancy were still kept at an arm’s length away; though you didn’t think they even noticed with how absorbed they were in each other. Your place in the Byers household grew tremendously, considering you barely even glanced at Jonathan Byers before… everything.
A routine formed a few weeks after the nightmares began - the bags under your eyes and a slip in conversation gave you away to Jonathan. Neither of you could sleep soundly; memories of the monster that had hunted your loved ones always in the back of your head.
You hung out at the Byers’ more and more - you spent the night more often than not, your place at the breakfast table established long ago. You and Jonathan took turns driving to school, splitting to your respective classes and later finding each other in the parking lot for lunch; sometimes you ate in a comfortable silence, sometimes you’d listen to music accompanied by light conversation and bubbly laughter. Whatever it was, you two were inseparable.
The two of you were a sight - former Steve Harrington conquest with freak Jonathan Byers, previously rumored to have killed his brother? There were dozens of whispers and rumors surrounding you everywhere you went.
The grand decline of your social standing didn’t really faze you; you’d only had a place in the Hawkins High social pyramid by association with Steve, and you’d really rather be called a waste of a pretty face behind your back than deal with Steve and Company again.
When that last bell rang, you were the first one out of your class. Leaning by Jonathan’s locker as eager kids pushed past, you’d wait for him to reach you from his class on the opposite side of school. That car ride home was always your favorite part of the day, windows down and worry momentarily escaping you.
Though, the anxiety never held off for long.
Everything that happened last year would stick with you for the rest of your life; that much was clear early on. You hadn’t realized the extent of how deeply it all haunted you until you realized how small your circle had become. Circumstances aside, deeper relationships were limited to the people who’d gone through last year’s events with you. Which led to a more careful watch over everyone, especially the kids.
A protectiveness over Will had started since he’d gone missing, and had slowly spread to each member of the party - much to their annoyance. Despite your overprotective tendencies, you’d always ended up winning the kids over with snacks or toys, to which they’d declare how you were their favorite older teen and their beloved Paladin, whatever that meant. (You’d really tried to sit with them and understand their game, considering the monster you’d fought last year was straight out of it - but the entire thing made your head spin.)
Now, Halloween was coming up and you could feel the excitement radiating off the boys as they discussed their plans for Ghostbuster costumes. You could see the worry in Joyce’s eyes when Will hinted towards the group’s plans to trick-or-treat; it was easy to spot when you shared the same concerns. You trusted Will and the boys, but anything could happen. Though, as Joyce slowly but surely warmed up to the idea, you couldn’t help but share Will’s excitement for the greatest night of the year.
Things were comfortable - as much as they could’ve possibly been. Then, suddenly and painfully, that thin blanket of normalcy was ripped to shreds.
It was up to you and Jonathan to chaperone the kids tonight, but god. This headache was killing you and there was no way you’d be able to handle screaming kids all night. After an eternity of pleading and reassurance, you were snuggled on your couch, relishing the silence around you. It didn’t take very long for you to drift off, dreamless sleep taking over. You didn’t mind; it was the best case scenario nowadays.
A harsh knock at the door startled you awake, heart rate increasing as your throat tightened with worry. Anxious, unreasonable thoughts flooded your brain as you waited for any confirmation that the sound was conjured by your own disheveled mind, jumpy and paranoid.
A second knock at the door, weaker than the other, led you to the door in an instant. You could barely make anything out through the small peephole in the dark. You took a deep breath before opening the door with one good pull, your brain taking a while to catch up when you realized the figure you saw was walking away before turning towards you in surprise. The reasonable idea that it was Halloween night with tons of kids running around suddenly made its way into your brain.
But the figure on your porch was entirely too tall and alone to be kids trick-or-treating.
Your brain came to a stop when you realized who that figure was, squinting in the dim light to make sure you weren’t officially losing it.
“Steve?”
Steve looked like a deer in headlights, perfectly still as he tried to make sense of the emotions on your face.
“Sorry,” was all he could say as he turned away from you, guilt mixed with something else.
He shouldn’t have come here. He had no right to do this to you, to seek out your comfort when he’d hurt you so badly before.
“Steve,” your voice came out softer than you’d expected, gentle and warm. “It’s okay.”
With a few unconscious steps taken forward, Steve was wrapped up in your arms, arms tight against you as his body shook.
“It’s okay.” You repeated, rubbing circles into his back as you felt silent tears stain your shoulder.
Steve hadn’t told you what happened, but that terrible, sinking feeling in your chest and with his broken sobs were enough for you to invite Steve inside and out of the chilly autumn air.
Leading him to the couch and wrapping the blanket you were under only thirty minutes ago, you sat next to Steve in silence; hands over his in comfort as he collected himself.
“Nancy…” he started, voice breaking.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.” You didn’t really want to know. You were treading on a thin line of friendly and actually friends with Steve. One wrong move would crush the wall you’d spent so long building. All the distance you kept wouldn’t have been for nothing if you never let Steve get too close.  
What if you fell in love with him again?
“I think she broke up with me.” Steve’s voice was quiet, but the pain in his voice was evident. It was the same pain you heard when he talked about his parents, or his future, or anything he used to share with you in a hushed voice. All those talks that’d end with a kiss and a promise that you’d find a way to fix things, together.
“Oh, Steve.” You squeezed his hands harder, hoping the motion would ground him, if nothing else. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s what I deserve, right?” Steve laughed humorlessly, hesitantly pulling his hands away from yours.
“What? No, it’s not-”
“Enough with that... bullshit.” Steve shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “We hurt you. I hurt you. It’s karma.”
“Steve. You don’t deserve this.”
“You’re right. I don’t deserve you.” Steve pulled back, looking anywhere but you. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Steve!” You were frustrated now, exasperated that Steve’s name was seemingly the only thing you were able to say. You knew he always felt bad about what he did but…
“I forgave you. Both of you.” You said as soothingly as you could. Your mind was a mess; the hurt mixing with sympathy as Steve spilled his heart out. You still cared about Steve, even through your messy breakup. Maybe that was a mistake. It would’ve been a lot easier for you to hate Steve and Nancy, but you couldn’t. They were good people, underneath everything. One mistake didn’t have to dictate the rest of their lives.
“Yeah, I didn’t deserve that either.” Steve laughed bitterly.
“I don’t think it’s very fair for you to decide what you deserve or not. That was my choice. Take it or leave it.” You didn’t mean to snap. An uncomfortable silence hung around the two of you as your words settled in.
“You still deserve to be happy, Steve.” Even if it’s not with me.
Steve turned to look at you, really look at you. He hadn’t done that in a while. You picked at the hem of your plain t-shirt, pajama clad legs crossed over each other. Your eyes were puffy with dark circles he’d never noticed before. How long had they been there?
Steve opened his mouth to say something, but nothing seemed to form. No words, no thoughts. How had you loved him when you were selfless and he was so selfish?
Your landline rung, saving Steve from having to break the silence. He clutched onto the blanket tighter, averting his eyes as you got up to answer.
“Hello?” You were expecting Jonathan to answer on the other end, letting you know that the kids were home safe. He knew how much you worried.
“Hey sweetie, sorry to call so late. Mike and Will are here and really, it’s no problem if Will stays for a while! But Dustin and Lucas didn’t come by, so-
"I’m so sorry, Mrs. Wheeler, I’ll be right there.” Where the hell was Jonathan?
“It’s really not a problem! No one at the Byers’ was picking up, so I just got a little worried. I know you’re really close with them.”
“Yeah.” You nodded, not realizing Mrs. Wheeler couldn’t see you. “I’ll be right there.”
You hung up abruptly, cutting off whatever Mrs. Wheeler was saying.
A new wave of worry washed over as you wondered where Jonathan had gone. Had something happened to Will that made him go to Mike’s so early into the night? Why weren’t the others with them?
You turned around and were hit with guilt. You’d completely forgotten Steve was there. He was standing now, attempting to neatly fold the blanket he’d been using.
“I should go.” He stated, full attention on smoothing the stubborn folds of the stupid blanket.
“You don’t have to.” You said, a little too quickly for your own liking. Steve looked away from the blanket for a second, glancing nervously at the sincerity in your eyes.
“You shouldn’t be alone right now.” You said sincerely.
So Steve let himself believe you.
“When’d you get a car?” Steve asked, inspecting the decorations as the two of you climbed in.
You shrugged. “A while ago.”
The rest of the ride was quiet, music from the radio playing lowly in the background. Occasionally, Steve would mutter more about what happened between him and Nancy, and you’d give him all the reassurance he needed. She was just drunk or, she really cares about you, y’ know? But the small smile on Steve’s face never seemed to reach his eyes.
You hadn’t realized how terrible of a situation it was until you knocked on Mrs. Wheeler’s door and she opened up with a bright small, albeit a little surprised to see Steve.
Shit. How could you be so stupid, bringing Steve to Nancy’s house?
“Basement?” You said abruptly, not realizing you cut off the conversation Mrs. Wheeler was having with Steve.
“Oh, yes-”
“Thanks.” You’d apologize for your rude behavior later.
You knew realistically, Will was fine, but that itching feeling in your chest wouldn’t go away, anxiety mixing with nerves to get Steve out of there.
It’d been a while since you’d been inside the Wheeler house, taking a second to process where you were going in your frazzled state. You turned a corner too quickly and consequently almost crashed into someone.
Your name left Jonathan’s lips as his left yours, both tones confused. Jonathan’s concern only grew when he glanced at Steve behind you.
“Are you here for Will?” You asked, searching for answers on Jonathan’s face.
“Will’s here?”
You could only gape at Jonathan in disbelief, your headache coming back as you rubbed your face with your hands in frustration.
“You-!” Rage consumed you but you bit your words back, knowing you’d say something you’d regret. “Yes, he’s here,” you managed to get out between grit teeth.
“Did something happen?”
“How am I supposed to know? You were supposed to be with him tonight.” The guilt in Jonathan’s eyes was enough for you to regret your words instantly. Moving past Jonathan, you opened the door to the basement before you could make things worse, clamoring down the stairs in a hurry.
Will and Mike were sitting on the couch side by side, in deep discussion that was clearly not meant to be overheard, evident by the way their heads snapped at the sudden noise. Were they hiding something?
They greeted you instantly, confused by the two boys that followed your lead, especially Steve. But they’d heard how your angry voice carried and decided against poking at the subject.
“You guys have fun?” You asked with a smile, a complete 180 from your brief conversation with Jonathan.
As if it wasn’t obvious, the boys glanced at each other before delivering stiff smiles. “Uh.. yeah.” Mike coughed.
Definitely hiding something.
“Are we going home now?” Will stood up abruptly. That was the nail in the coffin - Will was never eager to leave his friends.
“Yeah, but I won’t be staying over tonight. Sorry, bud.” You smiled softly at Will, hand on his shoulder as you guided him up the stairs.
“Goodnight, Mike!” You called down. “Brush your teeth or they’ll all fall out!”
“Shut up!”
You let Will and Steve jump into Jonathan’s and your cars, respectively, before you pulled Jonathan aside.
“Where the hell were you? Why weren’t you with the kids?”
“I let them go by themselves for a while.” Jonathan shrugged.
“What was more important than them? Than Will?”
“Don’t do that. Nothing’s more important than Will.” Jonathan scoffed. “I just went to a party-”
“A party? Since when do you abandon Will to go to fucking parties?”
“I didn’t abandon him!” Jonathan ran a frustrated hand through his hair in an attempt to recollect himself. “You know, you have to stop treating him like he’s five eventually.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was the devil for worrying. You weren’t there because you decided to go to some stupid party and something happened-”
“Something happened?”
It was your turn to scoff.
“Are you fucking kidding? It’s obvious-”
“Oh, so you know Will better than I do now?” Jonathan knew he was being completely unreasonable now, but he couldn’t help the words spilling out of his mouth.
You turned back to your car, headache hammering through your skull.
“Call me when you find out what happened.”
“Yeah, go back home with Steve. What the fuck is up with that, anyway!” Jonathan called after your retreating figure, wanting to kick himself instantly. He’d have a lot of apologizing to do later. But for now, he got into the car, waiting for Will to say something, anything about what happened. Was he really such a terrible brother not to notice anything wrong with Will? On the trip back home (including all the stalling Jonathan did to give Will extra opportunities), nothing left Will’s mouth other than a fake yawn and quick goodnight.
Your hands clutched your steering wheel angrily, knuckles noticeably white. You and Jonathan never argued. You knew it’d all turn out okay between you two, but he had serious explaining to do. And yet, his words kept replaying in your head.
You have to stop treating him like he’s five eventually.
You did not treat Will like a toddler! You treated him like he was a preteen, which he was! And he almost died last year, he wasn’t like every other kid!
You didn’t realize you’d voiced these thoughts aloud until Steve nodded. “I completely agree with you, but I think you were supposed to turn right a few blocks ago.”
“Shit,” you hissed, realizing you’d long passed your house. Pulling over, you smacked your head against your steering wheel. “Shit.” The sound of defeat was so strong, Steve couldn’t help but lean over to place a warm hand on your back.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll just make a U-turn, there’s no one on this street anyway.”
You grumbled something incomprehensible against the wheel, and Steve knew it wasn’t just about the missed turn.
“Hey, it’s just trouble in paradise, right?” Completely ironic.
“We’re not dating.” You didn’t know why you felt the need to clarify that. “He’s like a brother to me. A completely annoying, totally idiotic brother.”
Steve just nodded, words repeating in his mind, hammering all the way to his chest. Or was just the beat of his heart?
If there was anything Steve remembered about you, it was how you hated being wrong. He also knew how deeply you cared for people, more than yourself sometimes. It was something he’d always loved about you; another painful reminder of how good you were towards him. Of how badly he’d ruined things.
“The worst part is he’s right. We’ve all been treating Will like… like he’s sick or something. He’s not allowed to go anywhere by himself. God, even school. I feel like I can’t breathe until I see him go inside. And he does, and I just sit there and wait. Like something’ll happen at any second. Like I could stop it if it did.” Admitting everything out loud… you felt so stupid. Stupid for Will, stupid for Steve. He’d come to you for comfort and here you were, making it all about you. How was Steve able to stand it? How could he stand you?
“I can drop you off, if you want.” You gestured weakly to the open road ahead of you.
“You shouldn’t be alone right now.” Steve smiled softly, patting your back.
How could he be so selfless when you were being so selfish?
You arrived back at your house and very awkwardly handed Steve some of his own clothes to sleep in. You’d kept them stored in a box in the bottom of your closet; too embarrassed to give them back but too hurt to wear them.
An argument about sleeping arrangements was cut short with Steve essentially pushing you onto your bed. However, he hadn’t anticipated that, startled by the movement, you’d reach out to grab the closest thing for stability; which happened to be Steve.
The proximity brought back bitter memories; you could see the same ones that haunted you reflecting in Steve’s eyes. And yet, both of you hesitated; reveling in the familiarity but knowing whatever you had, had been broken long ago.
“I should- Couch.” Steve sputtered out, tripping over himself to get off you.
“Yeah.” You mumbled softly. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” Steve gently squeezed your hand. He stood there a while, then briskly left the room before he could do anything he’d regret.
One night was all it took for everything to crumble.
The dam broke, your defenses fell. Angry, hot tears fell out of your eyes as your fists clenched around your pillow, overwhelming pain in your heart and in your head.
Finding out about Steve and Nancy had been one of the worst pains of your entire life. Forgiveness had come easily to you after the fact; who were you to stop them from being together? You weren’t one to cling on to a hopeless relationship.
Though you supposed you never got a chance to process your hurt fully; it was one thing after another, and there were much bigger things for you to concern yourself with than an ex-relationship.
But Steve was with Nancy, that was a fact. Despite how terrible it was, it worked out for you in some ways. If Steve was unavailable, you couldn’t feel anything other than friendship for him. If Steve wasn’t around, you couldn’t desperately wish it was you in his arms rather than Nancy.
So, you told yourself it was okay. It didn’t hurt. Out of sight, out of mind.
But, now… there was the possibility that Steve was available for you to love again, and did you really want to subject yourself to that? But the Steve you knew before and the Steve you were seeing now weren’t lining up and it made your heart hurt and your head spin. Through all the counterarguments you presented to yourself, it all led you back to the original, unfixable issue.
Steve just didn’t love you anymore. Or maybe he never did in the first place.
Your feelings were all rushing back, crushing you with their weight. The feelings you’d willed away, pushed down until they were no longer acknowledged overflowed and exploded. One-sided attraction was bad enough, but it didn’t help that you were still painfully in love with someone who hurt you.
And you couldn’t help but wonder that maybe, if you’d met Steve post-Nancy-Wheeler, it all could’ve worked out; but it was too late for that.
It was much too late for what could’ve been.
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