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#every time I make another self indulgent board I have to repeat 'you do not owe anyone a stimboard request' like a billion times to myself

argreion · 1 month

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𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆❜𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — For my next daily, I guess we’ll do headcanons! The first thing I did that made me kinda pop off! So… I know I did an SFW and NSFW one, but we’ll just do NSFW this time. I might repeat a little, given I did those headcanons nearly 2 - 3 months ago! Kinda updated after thinking of my ideal Leon. (Just lazy today… I don't expect many people to like this considering it's not like smut smut.)

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 841

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — Leon hairy pussy munch so obviously (eating out), Leon in lingerie so possibly feminization if you think about it? Also not? Just man is enjoying lingerie. Creampie talking with eating out. Sensory deprivation with temperature play alongside it. Dry sexter Leon. Lazy P in V. P in V a LOT.

First… We start with the obvious one. Leon’s a genuine munch, we all know it and crave it. Prefers it hairy ‘cause it’s more fun to play with. Saying hairy, cause who has time to shave their pussy for a man? We all don’t want to, so we’ll just say he likes it. Likes to bury his nose deep into your pussy and call it his heaven. Jerking himself off as he eats you out, thumb rolling circles into your clit. Tongue scissoring your folds open and delving into your hole. Eating you out like a starved man. Hungry Man’s wasn’t enough, and that stupid brownie wasn’t good enough. The full three-course meal that was your pussy right next to him, was all that he needs. Right against his face and drenching it with your slick. Dribbling down his stubble and giving you disgusting kisses. Sharing the love with his baby that’s it.

Lingerie with this man… Oh boy. He’ll cum on the spot seeing your body in lace with fancy flowers. Stretch marks, stomach, random bruises, self-harm scars, hairy legs, and arms, loves it all. Kisses all your scars while you wear that pretty thing. Skimpy, seductive, lazy, it doesn’t matter. Doesn’t take his hands off of you. On the contrary, he loves wearing them as well! Look, self-indulgent little shit I am, but we all want this old guy in lingerie. He’d look breathtaking in it with his genetics. Full on spread eagle, curling his finger towards you with a smirk. Gets embarrassed the first few times around. Is his dick out too much? Am I too big for this?

Creampier extraordinaire, all day, every day! It could be the breeding part, or he just likes watching you be full of a part of him. Uses his thumb to part your folds and eat out your pussy. Eating out his cum like the secretly depraved man he is. Wants to watch it like the shows he does every weekend. He’d rate it 100% on rotten tomatoes for the most unique, thrilling experience ever. (It’s a joke, be honest, that’d be boring to watch. He’d watch those boring shows, anyway.)

Another off-the-board one is sensory deprivation. It’s the trust you both have in each other. To go off touch, and he could have a gun to the back of your head. Takes a lot of coaxing out his brain to try it out. But when it’s done, oh boy, bondage with this is OFF the charts. Running his fingers up your torso and his thumb across your lip. Good girl, sucking on it like you should be. Has used wax and ice cubes before, and he would do it again. Feels slightly bad with each squeak you make. Poor baby, cumming on a vibrator up your pussy.

Do it to him? Whiny old bastard. Feels a little lonely without hearing your footsteps or seeing your face. Being too vulnerable makes him act like a caged animal. Touching his body sends him melting on the floor. Reminds him it’s you and not someone like Ada. She was always a fickle woman who manipulated him and made him get trust issues. Knowing you’d (hopefully) not do the same makes him happier. Likes the ice cubes against his nipple or the gentle slap to his face. (Remember if you’re going to do this to talk things out. Betraying one’s trust sucks ass, and you SHOULDN’T do that. Always have a safe word, too. <3)

Overstimulation feels like something forbidden to him. To push his partner or himself past their limits. Watching you squirt from him continuously thrusting into you. Making his dick curl into that spot that sends you to heaven. Or watching the slick drip onto the floor as he fingers you in the shower. You didn’t even notice you’d be dripping. Loves it if you’re both in the mood, if not, he’ll be lazy. Cockwarming or consensual somno makes him happy, too. Wants to see you whimpering for him to stop. Gives him p

There’s also something I wanted to say about sexting with him… Dry. He’s dry. He halfway gets your texts but getting an image? Excusing himself into the bathroom to jerk one off and send you a husky voice message. Send him more? Getting that classic text of ‘Please stop, I’m at work. I’ll take care of you when I’m home…’ That’s the code for ‘I’ll give you lovin’ later, baby.’

Lazy sex… That’s so common for the pair of you. Resting on top of him with his soft cock in you. Hand rubbing your back and him talking about work. Doesn’t matter if it’s RE2R or DI, it’s the same. Lazy/Comfort sex is the best sex to him. Feels normal, and it’s better than actual sex to him. Cuddle sex as well, he’s an intimate guy at heart. Gently rocking into you while having a simple conversation. Interlacing your fingers together and squeezing at your chest. Kisses on your neck and sweet little murmurs of affection.

Tomorrow, my fic should be posted! So slow with requests so sorry about that!

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy headcanons

92 notes · View notes

just-come-baek · 3 years

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bet on it

Pairing: Na Jaemin x female!reader

Word count: 21.2k

Summary: One day, Jaemin stops by with a strange request. Any other person would just laugh in his face and refuse in a second. Unfortunately, I, being the dumbass I am, agree to it. Soon enough, everything gets out of hand, causing much more drama than we could ever predict.

Or in other words, Jaemin shouldn’t bet on things he knows he can’t win.

A/N it’s an instalment for love letters event hosted by neosmutcollective, I hope you enjoy my jaemin entry as well as other entries written by my friends from the network, check out the event tags too, and yeah, happy valentine's day! 😏 💖

***

“What?” I yelled, almost spitting my tea. No, I must’ve heard him wrong. Jaemin wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that. It had to be a joke. Or I must’ve imagined him say that. “You don’t mean that,” I added, still in shock, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“Come on, Noona,” Jaemin whined, staring right into my eyes, wishing for me to say yes to his ridiculous proposal. “I wouldn’t suggest that if I knew we couldn’t pull through.”

With a sigh, I shook my head. Jaemin’s proposition was absurd, and I couldn’t believe I was about to ask him again to walk me through it.

Damn me and my curiosity.

“Before I make my mind about this… tell me what the fuck led you guys to make that stupid bet. Then, and only then, I will still say no, but in good faith,” I demanded, smiling at Jaemin, knowing I wouldn’t make it easy for him to convince me. The odds weren’t in his favor, and he really had to put in lots of effort if he really wanted me on board.

“So we were chilling after practice, and then Haechan started to tease me that I have no game anymore,” Jaemin started, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, I should’ve figured it out. A man in his age apparently is a failure unless he has a different girl in his bed at least 3 nights a week, moaning his name at the top of her voice. Even though Jaemin doesn’t have a competitive nature, it still provoked him into agreeing to this absurd bet.

Life must be though with an ego so fragile…

Jaemin isn’t a fuckboy, yet he still has a fair share of love conquests. Though I had no idea whether it was true or not, he must have fallen a little behind the others – otherwise, they wouldn’t tease him about it.

“And then I said his mother must’ve dropped him on the head if he really thinks that,” Jaemin carried on. I nodded my head, trying to wrap my head around this preposterous situation. “Then, I said I could seduce any girl I want,” he added proudly, making me want to flicker his forehead, hoping it would knock some sense into that empty skull at the top of his neck.

“Okay, but how the hell did you end up with having to seduce me? This is the part I have the most trouble understanding,” I pointed out, cocking my eyebrow.

“Then, Chenle suggested we bet on it, and I agreed to it,” Jaemin whispered, looking away, sounding both regretful and shy. “I urged them to pick any girl, so Haechan looked around to choose my next conquest. It was the time when you and Ten were walking to the dance studio, and that bastard suggested you.”

So it was Haechan’s doing – I should’ve figured this one out. He was the only one wicked enough to possibly ruin somebody’s friendship because of a stupid bet.

Or, it was quite genius of him – maybe he figured Jaemin would not cross this line, choosing our friendship over winning this imbecilic bet.

“And you were confident you can woo me? What about our friendship? Does it mean anything to you?” I inquired, curious of what was going inside his head when he agreed to this half-witted bet. Did he seriously think we could have sex and then forget all about it?

“It’s not like that! I don’t want to woo you. I mean… I could, and you would be very much aware if I tried to hit on you, and you would fall for me. No doubts on that,” Jaemin spoke confidently, grinning like an idiot with ego blown way out of proportion. “But–“

Jaemin was about to say something dense, so before more bullshit managed to leave his mouth, I hit him with a cutting board. Jaemin whined, but I was sure he was exaggerating for comedy purposes. My hit was calculated and balanced – it was powerful enough for him to understand it wasn’t a good idea, but at the same, it was not going to cause any permanent damage to his brain. I’d never purposefully do that to him.

“We’re not having sex. Get that shit inside your head,” I interjected, pouring my herbal tea down my throat, already thinking about making another cup. This conversation was making me uncomfortable, and I wanted to put an end to it. Perhaps another lemon balm tea would calm my nerves.

Ignoring his penetrating gaze, I shuffled around the kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove. In the meantime, Jaemin walked around the kitchen island and grabbed me by my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes.

“Come on, Noona, I am not asking you to sleep with me,” Jaemin defended his case, quite determined to pull me on his side.

“Well… it looks exactly like you’re asking me to sleep with you,” I cut in, walking around him to the cabinet to get a fresh tea bag. I’ve really had enough of this bullshit.

“We could just make it look like like we did,” he carried on, and I heaved a deep sigh, regretting even letting him in today. I had this extremely boring essay to write, and at this point, I’d rather begin my research on whatever topic my professor assigned.

“It’s still a no from me, sorry,” I replied harshly, crashing Jaemin’s expectations. Judging by the look on his face, it wasn’t the outcome he anticipated when he decided to knock on my doors. “What happens when you lose that bet? Well… except for your pride, of course.”

“500 dollars.”

“Ouch, sowwy, I hope you can afford that,” I added with a fake smile, patting him on the shoulder, being well aware this amount of money was a game-changer to Jaemin’s budget. If he won, he would have the time of his life, spoiling himself. However, if he lost, he’d have to eat instant ramen on every meal for the entire month. “Either way, I hope it will teach you a lesson to not bet on things you know you can’t win.”

“Ugh, fine,” Jaemin groaned in disappointment, reaching for my hands, holding them carefully as if they were made of china. “If you help me, I’ll give you half of the money,” he proposed, and I looked at our hands linked together, then quickly shifted my gaze to his eyes. “If you help me win, you’ll get 250 dollars, and you’ll be finally able to buy those fancy shoes you wanted so bad. What do you say?”

When did he get so persuasive?

It was a low blow.

Jaemin knew that these shoes were tempting me ever since I had seen them. Multiple times, my thumb hovered over the add-to-cart button. Every time, I resisted the temptation last minute upon seeing the price tag, though. This purchase was way out of my budget. However, now, when the new income opportunity presented itself, it made me wonder.

Suddenly, the kettle began to whistle, bringing me down to Earth from that ridiculous train of thought. Shaking my head, I tore my hands out of Jaemin’s gentle grasp, fidgeting back to the stove, pouring boiling water into the cup.

“Okay, fine, but I have a few questions first,” I gave up after a short pause for intense pondering, and Jaemin smiled brightly in instant gratitude and relief. Without my help, he would be doomed. “And then, if I like the answers, I have a few conditions.”

“Anything.”

“Okay, so first of all, how much time do we have to do the deed,” I inquired as I blew some air before taking a cautious sip.

“About two weeks,” Jaemin mentioned after a while as he had counted on his fingers how many days we have to team up and win five hundred dollars for us. “Officially, we have to do it before Jaehyun’s birthday party,” he specified, and I hummed, realizing it is very little time.

“You seriously think I am that easy? Outrageous,” I gasped, throwing a fake tantrum as I made my way around him to sit down on the barstool on the other side of the kitchen island.

“No, of course not,” Jaemin quickly realized what I was getting on, so he smiled sheepishly, already trying to figure out the best wording to calm me down. “I am just that good,” he added, and I leaned over to smack his shoulder. “Kidding,” he defended himself, stepping out of my reach. “Renjun proposed this party, I mean, it’s the easiest way they can verify we did it,” Jaemin carried on, and I cursed under my breath.

How convenient.

“But we’re not going to do the fucking,” I stated, as a matter of fact, repeating myself in order to make sure we were both on the same page. As much as it would be pleasant to actually do it with him, never under these circumstances.

“No, we’re not, but I guess we can sneak out upstairs to one of the unoccupied rooms, and once we make sure they’re listening, you can just shout how good I’m fucking you,” Jaemin reasoned, and I sighed as regret once again washed through me.

“That’s creepy,” I commented as my mind conjured an image of a group of peeping Toms, eavesdropping on our sex session. Once again, I felt the temptation to drop out of this deal, but then, another thought crossed my mind. “Ugh, fine, I’ll do it. All I have to do is shout for two minutes, and then, these cute shoes will be mine.”

“Two minutes? Are you insane?” Jaemin hollered, offended by my comment. “It happened once, and it was ages ago. I’ve learned plenty of tricks since then,” he blabbered, acting way too defensive for his past mishap. “Just let me live in peace, please.”

“Okay, so we have established the deadline, and although it’s not enough time for anyone to woo me, let’s go with it.”

“Thank you! I knew I could count on you,” Jaemin replied with gleeful enthusiasm as he sat down on the barstool beside me and pressed a chaste kiss against my knuckles.

“But you have to go overboard with the courting,” I added, making Jaemin groan. Hard work wasn’t his best suit, but this time, he really had to try his best, or I’d have to turn him down at Jaehyun’s party. “You really have to make it believable and super romantic. Otherwise, I’m out,” I clarified, and Jaemin nodded, though unwillingly.

“Fine, any other wishes in mind?”

“Once we win the bet, we have to end this whole fake-dating fiasco immediately,” I announced, already planning ahead. It was easy to win the bet, but the most difficult part was getting back to normal. If we planned to fake-date in order to fake-fuck, then it was reasonable to figure out how we’re going to fake-break up.

“We should agree on admitting it was the best sex of our lives, but despite that, we value our friendship even more, so we decided to remain friends. How does it sound?” Jaemin suggested, and I had to once again resist the temptation to roll my eyes.

“I agree with the overall message, but later, we have to work on proper delivery.”

***

On the very next day, Jaemin and I decided to implement our secret plan.

Since I specifically asked to be courted in an over-the-top manner, Jaemin suggested going to the cinema. There were no attention-grabbing titles screened, yet ultimately, we agreed on watching the very last projection of the sequel to Wonder Woman.

“Go get the snacks, I’ll buy the tickets,” I ordered once we stepped into the cinema area of the nearest shopping mall. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, so the establishment wasn’t crowded. Except for us, there was only a family of three slowly making their way to the exit.

“See you in five minutes,” Jaemin murmured before he walked off to the bar to get us some salty popcorn and soda drinks. Though we both considered them way overpriced, it was a perfect way to celebrate the beginning of our fake relationship.

“We still have some time until the movie starts,” Jaemin shyly whispered as he cleared his throat. “Let’s take some selfies to make it public,” he added, and I nodded, sending him a timid smile, knowing this protocol had to be done in order to properly keep up appearances.

These days, everything had to be posted on social media, or it didn’t exist. If we didn’t leave a single digital mark, people might’ve grown a little bit suspicious of our alleged rendezvous. It would probably shock our friends, but it had to be done if we wanted to really sell it to them.

The circumstances were perfect for an impromptu first-date photo shoot. We were able to snap a few pictures without any annoying looks of prying eyes, choose the best angles, and finally post it with an ambiguous description confusing the shit out our friends.

Though Jaemin took about fifty photos, ultimately, I allowed him to upload three.

One picture showed me standing back to the camera as I looked at the cinema schedule, trying to pick a movie. I was wearing an A-line crimson red dress and a pair of warm black tights – the outfit really made my figure look pretty slim.

“What do you think about this one?” Jaemin inquired, showing me the photo of our interlaced hands. With a hum, I inspected the picture, giving him the green light. It was appropriate for our first date – it would signify we weren’t at the cinema as friends.

“This one looks good enough,” I commented as I reached to swipe across the screen of his smartphone. “I look cute here,” I added, showing Jaemin a picture of us. We were smiling, staring at the camera, almost stuffing our faces into the bucket of popcorn.

“What kind of description should I write?”

“Something vague, I guess,” I answered with a shrug, having no clue what kind of comment would be fitting for this Instagram post. “Maybe stick to emojis,” I suggested, and Jaemin went back to work, adjusting filters and typing the description.

With a chuckle, Jaemin handed me his phone, letting me approve his commentary.

“Are you out of your mind?” I hollered, quickly deleting the emojis. Having smacked his shoulder, I turned around, blocking him from seeing the screen. Three blushed emojis suited our fake-date better than a popcorn bucket, a wine glass, and an eggplant.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Jaemin apologized, still laughing at his incredibly funny joke.

“Here, I posted it,” I said with an eye roll, throwing his phone at his lap. “The commercials must’ve started; let’s go,” I rose from my seat and extended my arm, wanting Jaemin to hand me the cup of coke. Jaemin, however, completely misunderstood my intentions, putting his hand into mine, holding it gently. “Give me my drink, Jaemin.”

“Sorry,” Jaemin sheepishly smiled before he yanked back his hand and turned his head around, too embarrassed to look at me. I, on the other hand, laughed hysterically. That should’ve served him right after that emoji faux pas.

“I was kidding,” I admitted when my laughter died down. “Come on, Jaemin. Let’s go; I want to see the trailers,” I added before grabbing his hand, hauling him inside the screening room.

At the last row, we plopped down onto our double seat, getting comfortable for the movie. With our belongings thrown onto the neighboring seat, we stretched our limbs before the lights went out, providing us with the best viewing experience.

“Do you think they’ve seen it?” Jaemin whispered into my ear as he placed his head on my shoulders. “I want to check it, but at the same time, I don’t.”

“Mood,” I replied, feeling just as anxious.

The movie began, and we quickly forgot about our bold social media statement, focusing much more on the screening. Residing to our typical behavior, Jaemin placed his head on my shoulder, snuggling closer, taking full advantage of the bucket of popcorn, which rested on my thighs.

It was peaceful and comfortable – just as things were before Jaemin had come up with his brilliant idea to fake-date each other for the sake of that ludicrous bet. Though we acted the way we used to with each other, it felt somewhat different with that supposed romantic connotations haunting us. Not necessarily bad kind of different, though.

Just as we expected, two hours was more than enough for our friends to spam our individual inboxes. We both had dozens of messages from group chats, as well as private ones. All of them were asking and/or speculating what happened and why.

“I don’t feel like answering any of these,” I muttered, dreading to read what Ten and Jiwoo wrote on our roomies’ group chat. “I don’t feel like coming home, either. They’re gonna eat me alive with questions. I am not ready to face them yet. Wanna hang out some more?”

“Fuck, even my mom has seen them,” Jaemin cursed under his breath, completely forgetting about his mother being a mad keen Instagram user. Now, when he looked at our arrangement from a slightly different angle, Jaemin realized it brought way more consequences than he was planning on facing.

It was bad.

Really bad.

With shaky hands, I unlocked my phone, checking the Instagram post Jaemin had tagged me in. Not only our friends flooded the group chats, but also, they didn’t forget to embarrass us even further in the comment section.

lucas_xx444: what the heck??? 😧 is this for real???

yuu_taa_1026: finally!!1 maybe they stop simping for each other now 🤡

_jeongjaehyun: another man down, shame 😔

choi.jiwoo21: 🙄🙄 some men actually grow up, jeong…

mama_nana: Why am I only finding about this now?

“Well… fuck,” I murmured under my breath, still unable to process the fact that Jaemin’s mom knew about it. It was supposed to be a harmless charade; however, with each passing minute, it was getting out of hand. “What is the damage control procedure?” I asked in concern, biting the bottom lip nervously. Lying to our friends was pretty bad, but keeping this relationship thingy up in front of his mother was despicable.

“You know how she is,” Jaemin started, and I sighed, wishing I had no clue of what she was capable of. Unfortunately, I did, and it scared the hell out of me. “Either we go and visit her, or she’s coming to visit us,” he wondered, unable to choose which option was worse. “Fuck, she’s calling me. What do I do?”

With panic flashed in his eyes, Jaemin handed me his phone, expecting me to handle the conversation with his gossip-girl type of a mother. As if that would ever happen…

“Pick up and tell her we’re awfully busy or something,” I ordered him, gliding my finger across the screen, pressing the device against Jaemin’s ear.

“Hi, mom,” he spoke through gritted teeth, staring at me in absolute fury. Quickly, his hand cupped mine before he grabbed the phone, adjusting it.

By Jaemin’s mom’s standards, the conversation was brief. Or rather, her monologue was because Jaemin didn’t speak a single word through the entirety of it. Except for a couple of mmm’s thrown here and there, he didn’t engage at all.

Ideally, Jaemin would schedule the visit after we will have broken up. He’d go there by himself and tell her a story of us coming back to our senses and deciding to remain just friends. Unfortunately, that would require at least one functional brain cell and a pinch of assertiveness – both of which Jaemin seemed to lack.

“And?” I inquired, praying to hear some good news.

With a sheepish smile, Jaemin cautiously looked up at me. “We’re visiting her for dinner on Friday,” he announced, and I gripped my hands, trying to refrain myself from beating the shit out of him.

I didn’t sign up for any of this!

I just wanted some shoes.

“I hate you, Na Jaemin,” I angrily declared, storming out of the cinema, ready to indulge myself with plenty of greasy food. It wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but I needed to consume a ridiculous amount of calories in order to forget I was stupid enough to agree to participate in this travesty. “Are you coming or not?!”

***

The last thing I wanted was to face my roommates. They must’ve had dozens of questions about this out-of-the-blue date, and I was dreadful because I couldn’t provide them with genuine answers. Perhaps, I could try to confabulate my way out of this, but it was, nonetheless, risky.

Having eaten at least two servings of a delicious greasy meal Jaemin and I went for a stroll under the pretense of taking some more photos for future references.

Around 8 o’clock, I unwillingly made my way home. Even with that romantic aura lurking around us, it was still fun to hang out with Jaemin.

Walking up the stairs to the fourth floor, I wondered about possible solutions to my problem. In a perfect scenario, I’d sneak into my room without anyone noticing, so I wouldn’t have to deal with any prying questions until, at least, early morning.

Unfortunately, the moment I pulled out my keys, the doors swung wide open.

“Well, well, well…” Ten tsked with a mischievous smirk dancing across his gorgeous face. Asshole. How dare he tsk me? “Had fun on your date?” He asked, and I tried my best to ignore him. It wasn’t that easy, though. With Jiwoo backing up his teasing, I was outnumbered.

“So… you and Jaemin, huh?” Jiwoo mused, cocking up her eyebrow in curiosity. “Spill the tea. I didn’t spam your inbox to not hear all the details,” she added, and I rolled my eyes, regretting all of my poor life choices that led me to this moment.

“I’ll bring wine,” Ten hollered before he disappeared in the kitchen, also keen on knowing everything that had happened between us. “Don’t say anything until I get there!”

They wanted to hear a romantic story of how two friends realized they had hots for each other, and that’s exactly what I did. Unwillingly, I provided them with an incredible piece of fiction of how we felt the spark when Jaemin stopped by the other day.

Admittedly, it was easy to go with the flow once the wine molecules were coursing through my veins. With some liquid inspiration in my bloodstream, I narrated how adorable Jaemin had been when he had gathered enough courage to ask me out on a date.

“So I assume you’re bringing Jaemin to the cabin on the weekend,” Jiwoo inquired in a teasing manner, and I blinked in confusion. What cabin was she talking about? “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Forgot about what?” I asked, still clueless about the whole ordeal. With a confused frown, I wondered what this cabin trip was about. Positively, I didn’t forget about it. It’s impossible to forget about plans you weren’t even invited to.

So, Jiwoo explained everything in great detail.

Apparently, Jaehyun and Johnny planned a weekend getaway to the cabin by the sea. They invited plenty of people, but since it’s the middle of a hectic period of exams, only a small percentage of invitees would be able to make it.

Jaehyun, Johnny, and Lucas gave up trying to get the best grades two semesters ago, so their schedule was pretty much open. Renjun, Chenle, and Yeri were nerds with every necessary book memorized by heart, so they didn’t have to cram the weekend before the tests. Jiwoo, being heads over heels in love with Jaehyun, would even cancel her manicure appointment to make it to that trip. She was that serious about this fratboy for some reason…

And now, two individuals needed a perfect excuse to ditch an uncomfortable family dinner. When a chance presented itself in front of me, I just couldn’t say no.

“I’m going. I don’t know about Jaemin, though. He’s meeting his mom on Friday, but maybe he can make it work.”

“Fantastic,” Jiwoo shouted in excitement before finishing her glass of wine.

“Now, when I think about it, I am glad I’ve taken an extra shift at the gym,” Ten chimed in with a playful smirk as he sipped his wine. “You two simping for each other was painful to watch, but now, when you’re hitting it off, it’s gonna be unbearable.”

“What do you mean simping?” I yelled in a threatening manner, ready to fight him for spitting nonsense so carelessly. I might’ve had a tiny crush on Jaemin, but I wouldn’t call it simping. Also, suggesting the simping was mutual? He must’ve lost his freaking mind. Ridiculous!

“Shit, I didn’t think this through,” Jiwoo mentioned, now probably re-considering if the trip is worthwhile. She would love to hang out with Jaehyun and finally make a move, but on the other hand, she would have to deal with my and Jaemin’s romantic shenanigans.

“Why are you such drama queens? We’ve been on one date, for crying out loud! Stop acting like we’re some kind of overly touchy couple because we’re not,” I barked, having no more energy to argue with them. “We’ll keep PDA to a minimum, don’t worry.”

“No need to get so defensive,” Ten added, enjoying my misery a bit too much.

“I am not getting defensive,” I argued, though facing real trouble, unable to actually back up my perspective. “Anyway, I am going to sleep. Unlike the two of you, some people have real jobs,” I added before storming to my room, plopping onto my bed with a tired groan.

Having changed into my pajamas and sneaked under the covers, I finally dared to connect my phone to the Internet. My inbox was full of texts, so I read them all. I didn’t feel like replying to any of them, though. Instead, I opened my chat with Jaemin.

my love 💖 | 20:41 | I figured it out

my love 💖 | 20:41 | You don’t have to thank me

my love 💖 | 20:41 | Also

my love 💖 | 20:41 | Wtf Jaemin?

my love 💖 | 20:41 | What kind of name is that???

my love 💖 | 20:42 | Change it back

baNANA 🍓 | ��20:43 | No. 😘

baNANA 🍓 | 20:43 | The name stays

baNANA 🍓 | 20:43 | You can’t make me 😝😝

baNANA 🍓 | 20:44 | And what don’t I have to thank you for?

my love 💖 | 20:44 | I might’ve found alternative plans for friday

baNANA 🍓 | 20:44 | Oh???

my love 💖 | 20:45 | Jiwoo invited us to the cabin for the weekend

my love 💖 | 20:45 | We’re gonna get so drunk!

my love 💖 | 20:45 | It’s okay if you can’t make it, tho

baNANA 🍓 | 20:45 | Wow

baNANA 🍓 | 20:45 | I have an exam on Monday…

baNANA 🍓 | 20:45 | But I can make Haechan give me his notes

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | I wouldn’t miss it

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Good, then it’s a date

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | Date??? 🥰🥰

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Stop being so cringy!

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | Good night, love~~ 😘

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | Dream of me 😇😇😇

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Ugh.

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Disgusting 🤢🤮

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | I love you, too

***

As brilliant as my plan was, it fell through. Only partially, though. The little getaway was still a thing, but unfortunately, regardless of how much we tried, we couldn’t reschedule the dinner at Jaemin’s family home.

We still had to pay his parents a visit, but, at least, there was a silver lining.

Thanks to our hectic schedule, Jaemin’s mom wouldn’t have a chance to force us to stay longer. Whether she wanted to feed us dessert or stay the night, it was out of the question.

Since Jiwoo had one more exam to pass on Friday, half of the guests would have to show up later in the evening. Johnny, Jaehyun, Lucas, and Renjun were about to take off around noon while Jiwoo, Yeri, Chenle, Jaemin, and I had to carpool later in the evening.

I didn’t complain, though.

“It’ll be fine. It’s just my mom,” Jaemin reassured me, slipping his hand into mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I bet it’s gonna be like any other time you stopped by,” he added, and I cocked up my eyebrow suspiciously.

“You better be right,” I spoke, though still unconvinced. I knew Jaemin’s mother. She had a tendency to be, hmm…, a little bit extra. Who knew how she would behave now when she found out we were dating?

Since Jaemin was carrying our suitcases, I knocked on the front doors. Jaemin’s mom rushed to let us in, but not before she gave us bone-crushing hugs.

“I think you’ve misunderstood. I invited you for dinner. I didn’t ask you to move in with me,” Mrs. Na jested upon seeing the suitcases in Jaemin’s hands, misinterpreting the situation in the funniest way possible. “It must be shocking, but I enjoy living alone with your father.”

“We’re going to the beach with some friends after the dinner,” Jaemin clarified, and his mother hummed in understanding, acting a bit too cool about it. It’s been a while since Jaemin paid them a proper visit, and she was a little too nonchalant for my liking. “They’re going to pick us up around seven.”

She must’ve done something or was about to do something.

“Here’s some wine,” I spoke up, handing her the bottle as a small thank you gift for inviting us over for a delicious home-made meal.

“Thank you, dear. You’re so thoughtful,” Mrs. Na accepted the beverage, guiding us to the dining area. “I didn’t feel like cooking today, so I ordered some Chinese takeout. I hope you don’t mind,” she added, and I chuckled at her typical antics.

She was an amazing mother to Jaemin, raising him well, but she really was a terrible housewife. She didn’t change one bit, and I loved her for it. She had so much love for her husband, her son, and her son’s friends, and that’s what really mattered.

“Your father will be home in thirty,” she announced before she made a beeline to the kitchen to get a bottle opener. “And the takeout was supposed to arrive twenty minutes ago. If it weren’t for that slow delivery guy, I would’ve got away with my little secret,” she blabbered, laughing awkwardly.

“It’s okay, really,” I reassured her, sending her a genuine smile. “I am craving Chinese food, anyway,” I added before I elbowed Jaemin, so he would say something, too. For a blabbermouth he was, right now, he seemed awfully quiet.

Before Jaemin managed to provide his mother with a proper response, someone knocked on the doors. Since we had already arrived, it must’ve been the delivery guy with food.

“I’ll go get it,” Jaemin excused himself, leaving me alone with his mother.

“So…,” Mrs. Na cleared her throat as he began pouring wine into fancy glasses. “You guys are finally dating. And if you want me to be completely honest, I am a little bit disappointed,” she made a pause to look at me in the eye. What? She didn’t approve of me? That’s surprising; I used to think she adored me. “I am a little bit disappointed either of you didn’t make a move sooner. I was slowly losing hope,” she added, and I sighed in relief.

For a while, I was seriously concerned she didn’t like me.

“Are you expecting any guests? There’s no way we can finish it all by the four of us,” Jaemin commented as he walked into the dining room, setting two plastic bags of takeout. It smelled heavenly, and I couldn’t wait to taste whatever dish Mrs. Na had ordered.

“I can always invite your friends inside when they pull up,” she spoke matter-of-factly, but as soon as Jaemin looked at her sternly, she seconded that idea. “Or, I can pack it up, so you can share it with your friends later.”

“Should we wait for dad?” Jaemin asked when his stomach growled, demanding food. In the morning, he was quite anxious about going to his parents’ house, so he didn’t even bother to eat. Now, Jaemin was starving. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’ll get the plates,” his mom spoke, not really answering his question. Within two minutes, she came back with a special set of tableware. In their household, it was used only for holidays and other rare occasions. “Dig in,” she urged us, waiting for us to fill our plates before doing the same herself.

Whatever restaurant provided today’s dinner, it was remarkable. It wasn’t too salty, nor too spicy. Even when I was full, I still stuffed my mouth some more, unable to stop myself.

“You have sauce on your chin,” Jaemin remarked, pointing at his own chin, helping me locate the stray drop of soy sauce. “Here,” he added with a tired shake of his head, wiping it clean with his napkin.

“You two are too adorable,” Mrs. Na cooed, smiling at us widely. “It was worth the wait,” she added, and I creased my forehead in confusion. “Oh, did you hear that? It must be your dad,” Mrs. Na said upon hearing noise from the garage. “You keep eating, I’ll go greet his workaholic ass,” she excused herself with a playful smile before walking away from the table to welcome her husband as any loving wife would.

With a deep sigh, Jaemin leaned toward me, resting his arm on my chair.

“It’s not that bad, actually. I was excepting to go through some kind of FBI-level of interrogation, but she seems kind of chill about this whole thing,” Jaemin whispered into my ear, and I giggled, agreeing with him. It was kind of suspicious, but I couldn’t complain.

“It’s kinda creepy when she’s talking like she’s been rooting for us to end up together, but this one thing aside, it’s bearable,” I replied, and Jaemin nodded his head.

“I am gone for a minute, and you’re all over each other,” Mrs. Na snickered when she returned to the dining room, seeing Jaemin leaned in, only inches apart from my face. “Jaemin, mama’s so proud,” she added before she walked around the room to set the plate for Mr. Na.

“Stop embarrassing me,” Jaemin whined, playing with the food on his plate, pouting. Though his mother pretty much ignored his childish tantrum, I chuckled, finding it absolutely adorable. Maybe she was a teaser, but little Jaemin knew, he inherited it from her. It was time he experienced the taste of his own medicine.

The apple doesn’t fall that far from the tree…

The rest of the afternoon went peaceful. Though Mrs. Na threw in some cheesy remarks here and there, we could handle it. We were slightly buzzed, after all.

“It’s time for us,” Jaemin announced as he heard a car parked in front of the house. “It was nice. We should totally do it again,” he sarcastically added when he reached for my coat and helped me put it on.

“Don’t have too much fun,” she added with a playful smirk upon her face, earning a judging look from her more conservative husband. “No, wait, I second that. Have as much fun as you want. I am a cool parent,” she spoke, changing her mind in a matter of seconds. “And I plan on becoming a cool grandparent.”

At first, I wanted to remind her that we’re too young for children. Besides, technically, we only went on one date. It was definitely too soon to even think about these things, let alone talk about them out loud.

Thankfully, before I managed to say something I’d regret, Jiwoo honked, urging us to get going. If it wasn’t for her impatience, I might’ve ruined the image I had built for myself in Jaemin’s parents’ eyes.

“Your mother was joking! Always use protection,” Mr. Na hollered before he closed the doors after us.

***

Except for a few playful comments shot toward Jaemin and me, the ride was peaceful. As soon as we threw our suitcases into the trunk and squeezed in on the backseat, we hit the road. Jamming to Jiwoo’s playlist, we chatted in excitement, all of us in desperate need of a little vacation. It was a stressful time of a year, but maybe this short trip would actually help us recharge the batteries and calm down after busting our asses off.

“How was the dinner?” Jiwoo asked, staring at us in the rearview mirror. Since there was a limited amount of space, I was almost sitting on Jaemin’s laps. Jiwoo didn’t miss it with her eagle eyes. The way Jaemin played with my fingers didn’t go unnoticed, either.

“Bearable,” I muttered under my breath, not really wanting to recollect these memories now. I’d probably tell Jiwoo everything later, and she understood the subliminal message in a heartbeat. “How was your test?”

“I probably failed, but, at least, now I know what to expect,” Jiwoo answered as she turned to the left as the navigation system instructed her to.

In about two hours, we arrived at our destination.

Having stepped into the cabin with our heavy luggage in our hands, we encountered the middle of the party. A handful of beer bottles were scattered around the living area, the boys fervently discussing some matter.

“You’re finally here,” Jaehyun spoke matter-of-factly, as he noticed us in the threshold. “Go upstairs and leave your stuff in your rooms. We’ve already assigned them; just read the post-it notes stuck to the doors,” he explained before he turned away.

Huh, apparently, they were pros at planning.

The guys rented a cabin that consisted of six tiny bedrooms. Generally, we wouldn’t have a problem assigning them; however, since Jaehyun, Lucas, and Johnny didn’t want to room with anyone, we were facing a dilemma. They guys wanted to have some privacy if they managed to pick someone up at the hotel in the neighborhood. In this case, the six of us had to share rooms. Jiwoo and Yeri could room together. Renjun and Chenle could occupy another one, so it looked like they put Jaemin and me in the last one.

Thankfully, it wouldn’t be the first time when I had to share a bed with Jaemin. He had stayed the night plenty of times before when he dozed off during our Netflix marathons. However, it still was to be a little bit awkward since everybody thought we began dating. We were going to pull through, though.

As soon as possible, we came back downstairs, ready to even the score of consumed alcohol. All of us needed it. Everybody had a different reason for it, but none of our troubles were to be discussed tonight.

In the fridge, there was a whole palette of different types of alcohol. Quickly, I grabbed two tequila-flavored beers, handing one to Jaemin, allowing others to choose their poison.

My plan for tonight was to test every kind of alcohol, gradually going up with the percentages. It was a bad idea, but that’s what college was about – having fun like there’re no consequences.

We partied like there’s no tomorrow.

At first, we kept it simple. Fervent conversations led us to shout at one another, trying to force one perspective over the others. We were going through so many subjects that any sober bystander might’ve had real trouble comprehending how we managed to switch among them.

Then, someone suggested playing a drinking game. Of course, it had to be never have I ever. Everybody had so much fun, especially when the participants yelled at Jaemin and me because we didn’t even bother to abide by the rules. We were sipping our drinks whenever we felt like it, even between rounds, and it didn’t sit right with the rest. Eventually, they kicked us out of their little circle, giving us the crucial task of bringing some snacks from the kitchen.

Sometime past midnight, Jiwoo proposed going outside. It was beautifully snowing, but at the same time, it was freezing. Though I was opposed to this idea, everybody seemed to love it. The guys were throwing snowballs at each other, bringing out their inner child.

As if this wasn’t enough, they decided to take a stroll to the seaside. Though our cabin was maybe a mile away from the seashore, I didn’t particularly fancy the saunter. Jaemin was by my side, offering to warm my hand in his pocket, but I still was on the verge of freezing my ass off. I’d much rather sit by the fireplace under a few blankets with a mug of the mulled wine in my grasp. Apparently, everybody besides me was really intrigued by an ice bath and other winter extreme sports.

Though it was dangerous as fuck, Jiwoo took off her shoes and rolled up her jeans before she walked into the ice water of the sea. Being the dumbass he was, Lucas instantly followed suit.

“They seem to hit it off tonight,” I nonchalantly whispered as I elbowed Jaehyun. Jiwoo and Jaehyun might have a thing going on, but neither of them acted on it. Jiwoo was too whipped to make a move, too afraid of rejection. Jaehyun, on the other hand, was just a fuckboy, not really looking for a relationship. “Look at them. Don’t they look cute?” I carried on, cautiously watching Jaehyun’s expression. They weren’t together, but he seemed slightly jealous and frustrated watching her have lots of fun with Lucas.

In my opinion, he didn’t deserve her, but I didn’t really have a say in that matter. Jaehyun was the person Jiwoo’s heart longed for, and I, being her best friend, had to support that. Or, in this case, I had to give him a little push to get things in motion.

Jaehyun had some feelings for Jiwoo, but he needed some time and character development to fully comprehend them. Until then, it was my duty to remind him what he’s missing out on by not being serious enough to ask her out.

“Nah, I wouldn’t call them cute,” Jaehyun murmured through gritted teeth, positively jealous. “What they’re doing is dangerous; somebody has to stop them,” he added before he kicked off his own shoes, running toward Jiwoo to pick her up and bring her back to the shore.

“What was that?” Jaemin asked, being shook as to what he had witnessed.

“What was what? What do you mean?” I smirked, winking at him, hoping he wouldn’t tell anyone about it. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You played him,” Jaemin spoke, still impressed by how easily I manipulated Jaehyun into stepping into the scene, pulling Jiwoo away from Lucas. “Is this even legal? You’ve never done this one me, have you?”

“No, of course, not! Don’t be ridiculous,” I answered, though my tone suggested a completely different message. “You would’ve known, wouldn’t you?” I teased, chuckling at Jaemin’s funny expression. He was mortified. “I think you’re overreacting. I just pointed out some facts, and Jaehyun reacted to them according to his emotional opinion. I really didn’t do anything,” I added, defending my case.

“Don’t you ever try pulling a trick like that on me, okay?” Jaemin stated, and I nodded, giving him a promise. “I mean… I wouldn’t fall for it, but still, don’t.”

“We should head back to the cabin,” Johnny shouted, gathering the gang. Surprisingly, he seemed the most sober amongst us, so it didn’t come as a shock to me that he tried to look after his hammered friends.

In my opinion, it was a perfect call. I was slowly sobering up, and I definitely needed a refill. With my schedule packed, I had no idea when I would have a chance for another getaway, so I had to make the most out of this one.

As we returned to the cabin, Jaehyun’s eyes didn’t leave Jiwoo.

Jaemin, on the other hand, went upstairs to grab his camera, deciding it was the best time to snap photos. Of course, he had to take pictures of us when we were drunk out of our minds. Why didn’t he take any when we looked decent without smudged make-up?

“Sexy,” Jaemin commented as he pointed his camera at me. “Ahh, sexy,” he kept calling me that, and I stuck my tongue at him, wanting him to go away pester someone else. My hair was a mess, and my lipstick smudged off my lips a long time ago. “So sexy,” he carried on, making me roll my eyes at him. At some point, I tried kicking him, but that bastard was beyond my reach.

Around 2 o’clock, one by one, we began feeling tired.

Lucas was the first one to go. Considering how much alcohol he had drunk, I was surprised he lasted that long. Better yet, it was a shock he could even stand straight. Jaemin and Renjun had to escort him upstairs, but nonetheless, his alcohol tolerance was impressive.

I didn’t even realize when, but Yeri and Chenle managed to fall asleep on the couch. Firmly, Renjun shook them away, ordering them to go to their respective rooms. With tired yawns, they made their way upstairs, falling on their beds face-first.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Jaemin pouted as he sat on the side of the armchair, resting his head on my shoulder. Entwining his hand in mine, he stood up, pulling me up.

“Have fun, guys. We’re calling it a night,” I announced, refraining from yawning.

“No, you have fun,” Jiwoo replied, sending us a wink. Shaking my head, I sighed before we disappeared upstairs. I don’t know what she was thinking; however, I didn’t have the energy to keep my eyes open, let alone other nighttime activities. Besides, Jaemin was just as spent. Even if we were in a real relationship, we wouldn’t engage in half-conscious unsatisfactory messy sex.

“Come here,” Jaemin whispered as he smiled. His eyes were already closed as he patted the mattress beside him, waiting for me to join. “Good job. I think we really sold it to everybody,” he added as he snuggled closer, wrapping his limbs around my body.

“That’s good,” I purred, slowly drifting into dreamland. It was a long day, and it was finally over. Though it had a rough beginning, I ended it in Jaemin’s arms. “Good night.”

“Good night, my love,” Jaemin muttered, resting his head on my pillow right beside my face.

“You were supposed to change that name,” I replied, too drunk or/and too tired to realize it was his spoken words and not a text message.

***

During the second week of our relationship, we grew to be less tense around each other. Better yet, we seemed awfully comfortable, almost as if that’s how everything was meant to be. It was a little bit alarming, but I decided not to point that out. Even if it was just an act, I enjoyed it much more than I’d ever dare to admit. As long as it lasted, I was to savor it.

Ever since we came back from the weekend trip, Jaemin would pop up out of nowhere at least once a day with a surprise for me, proving how over the top he could be in courting a woman.

On Monday, he spammed his social media feed with my pictures from the trip. Of course, he didn’t forget to put a corny description under it, making me flustered. Even though I wouldn’t consider myself photogenic, Jaemin managed to bring out my best features with his photography talent and editing skills.

On Tuesday, Jaemin was waiting outside the auditorium with a cute bouquet of my favorite flowers – white roses. He was there to congratulate me on passing my last exam of the semester. The professor would send us results by the end of the week, but according to Jaemin, there was no chance I’d fail it.

“I still don’t get it how you do it,” Jaemin mused, scratching his temple, trying to put two and two together. “I hardly ever see you study, but then, you panic before an exam only to nail it later on. What kind of black magic is this?” He wondered, and I giggled, unable to explain my poor studying technique. I just winged it last minute every single time in my academic career.

“You better be right about this one,” I replied, still anxious about my grade. I didn’t manage to answer all of the questions, so a passing grade would be a relief. “I’m craving pasta. Do you want t go on a celebratory date?”

“You’re reading my mind,” Jaemin said, grabbing my hand, leading me to our favorite restaurant.

On Wednesday, Jaemin invited me to a bowling alley. Every month he would visit the establishment with his friends. Only on rare occasions, their significant others were invited. None of them could really commit to a serious relationship, so it never became a repetitive custom of their group.

“You guys are disgusting,” Haechan whined after our turn. Jaemin and I were losing by an enormous margin, but we didn’t mind. We were having fun despite a low score. “But at least, we’re winning,” Haechan added, pointing at Chenle and himself.

“I am the winner here,” Jaemin boldly announced, giving my hand a light squeeze, making me almost spit my soda.

Everybody cringed at Jaemin’s bold corny statement.

“I second that,” Haechan mused, looking away from Jaemin. “She’s bearable, and you are just absolutely repulsive,” he corrected himself, and I chuckled. Never in my entire life, I thought I would agree on something with Haechan, but this moment occurred right then.

On Thursday, although my schedule was packed with work, Jaemin insisted on hanging out. Tired out of my mind, I let Jaemin inside the apartment. He was carrying Mexican takeout; I couldn’t send him back home. Not when he had goodies.

“What do you want to watch?” I asked as I handed him the remote, allowing him to choose the movie. I was going to pass out anyway, so he might’ve as well picked something he liked.

“Anything is good,” he answered as he unwrapped his quesadilla, taking a bite off of it.

“The Notebook it is then,” I teased, but since Jaemin didn’t stop me, I put it on.

Having eaten my portion of a delicious meal, I lay down on the couch, resting my head on Jaemin’s thighs. I didn’t even realize when I fell asleep. Only when the credits were rolling down on the screen, Jaemin shook me awake.

“When did you fall asleep?” Jaemin inquired, a little bit mad that I forced him to watch the ultimate romantic movie of the twenty-first century. It was toxic as hell, and the way their behavior got romanticized didn’t sit right with me.

“As soon as I lay down,” I answered honestly, as I rolled around, staring at Jaemin’s handsome face. “How did you like the movie?” I asked innocently, swiftly changing the topic. It was for the better if Jaemin didn’t find out I paid no attention to the film. Instead of a great viewing experience, it was just a mere background noise that lulled me to sleep.

“I didn’t,” Jaemin whined, tapping his foot against the floor, making me sit up instantly. “It was toxic and sad at the same time. Noah was a manipulative jerk, and Allie was moody as fuck. The only bright side of their relationship is that they ended up with each other, not ruining other people’s lives,” Jaemin spoke the truth, and I couldn’t agree more. “In conclusion, give me my 2 hours back,” he added, and I hit him with a cushion.

Unable to comprehend what I just did, Jaemin blinked in confusion. Then, a few seconds later, he smirked and grabbed another cushion, ready to fight back.

Unfortunately, our childish antics were interrupted by Jiwoo. She was hanging out with Yuta, studying for the exam they had to retake the next day. To be completely honest, she couldn’t have any worse timing. While watching a movie was explainable, it wasn’t the case when it came to an impromptu pillow fight.

“Should I come back later, or something?” Jiwoo asked, pointing at the doors, willing to leave if it meant for me to get laid.

“Nah, Jaemin’s leaving. I am trying to kick him out, actually,” I announced, sticking my tongue out.

On Friday, Jaemin and I planned on going to the arcade. Unfortunately, we had to raincheck that. One of Jaemin’s coworkers fell sick, and Jaemin had to take a double shift at the coffee shop in his neighborhood.

I already had canceled my other plans to hang out with Jaemin, so I didn’t really want to stay at home all by myself. It was a Friday night, after all. Surprising him at work seemed like a better idea. His friends liked hanging out there; therefore, it must’ve been an excellent excuse for a little bit of acting in order to keep up appearances.

Quickly, I assembled a cute outfit and put on light make-up.

About an hour before the closing, I entered the coffee shop. Except for a few students with their noses in their computers, the establishment was empty.

“Welcome to–,” Jaemin hollered, ready to welcome the customers. “Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?” He asked as a wide smile spread across his face, enjoying my surprise.

“I just came to surprise you,” I confessed, though none of us paid enough attention to the gravity of my words. I genuinely wanted to hang out Jaemin him as his girlfriend. “And I also wanted to get some discounted goodies. What do you have left?” I asked, looking over his shoulder, trying to see what food didn’t sell yet. An hour before the closing, everything on the menu was discounted by seventy percent, and I just couldn’t walk past that kind of deal.

“You’re not the only one who came for cheap stuff,” Jaemin commented as he saw Haechan and Renjun on the other side of the doors. “Take a seat, I’ll bring you your favorite,” he added, and I smiled at him, walking to the booth by the window.

Having finished my Greek sandwich, I focused on my cup of tea. I was scrolling through social media feed, giggling whenever I stumbled upon a funny meme. It was a perfect evening; complete relaxation in the rhythm of soft foreign jazz music playing through speakers, Jaemin checking up on me once every a couple of minutes.

“Oh, hi, there,” Haechan hollered as soon as he noticed me. He must’ve been returning to his table from a restroom. “I didn’t realize you’re here. What’s up?” We weren’t close, so his question was more like a polite generic statement rather than genuine curiosity.

“I’m waiting for Jaemin to finish, so we can hang out at my place,” I answered, hoping Haechan would get the suggestive tone.

“Actually, there’s something you should know,” he said quietly, looking around, probably checking if Jaemin was within earshot. “I am so ashamed it happened, but I really have to tell you something,” Haechan added, and I couldn’t wait for him to reveal the secret.

Haechan was playing dirty. He wanted to tell me about the bet, ruining Jaemin’s chance at getting me to sleep with him. It was some top-tier double-crossing, and I found it impressive. I had no clue Haechan had it in him.

“We shouldn’t have done it. I don’t know why we even agreed to this,” Haechan added, scratching the back of his head, trying to sound genuinely regretful. “I think Jaemin’s not genuine about the thing you have going on. You see, we made a bet. He has to have sex with you, or else he owes Chenle 500 bucks.”

“What?!” I exclaimed, hoping my consternation was believable. At first, I felt the temptation to say something along, yeah, I know, what’s new, but then I decided to play along. It was actually a good idea to make it seem like Jaemin’s about to lose the bet. Knowing them, they wouldn’t call it off. If anything, Jaemin could double the stakes. “No, it can’t be true. Jaemin would never –“

Now, it was my cue to make a scene. Hopefully, it would play out exactly like in my impromptu prediction.

Reaching the stage of fake hysteria, I rose from my seat and stormed to Jaemin. He was energetically wiping off the tables, wanting to leave shortly after the last customer.

“Is that true? Did you really make a bet you can have sex with me?” I yelled at him through gritted teeth. Jaemin, on the other hand, was confused as fuck. “Did you really think you could get away with it? You disgust me!” I shouted, slapping his cheek. “Don’t ever call me again,” I added before I turned on my heel, storming out of the coffee shop.

Being the only employee at work, Jaemin couldn’t run after me.

Jaemin deserved an explanation. I had to fill him in on my wonderful plan before he would blow it in front of Renjun and Haechan.

my love 💖 | 20:46 | play along

my love 💖 | 20:46 | trust me

my love 💖 | 20:47 | kick them out pls

baNANA 🍓 | 20:47 | wtf???

baNANA 🍓 | 20:48 | that hurt

baNANA 🍓 | 20:48 | I didn’t have to kick them out

baNANA 🍓 | 20:49 | they ran out a few seconds after you

my love 💖 | 20:49 | good

baNANA 🍓 | 20:49 | what the hell is going on???

baNANA 🍓 | 20:50 | I am confused

my love 💖 | 20:50 | Haechan ‘told’ me about the bet

my love 💖 | 20:50 | he wanted to double cross you

baNANA 🍓 | 20:51 | what???

my love 💖 | 20:51 | so the plan is

my love 💖 | 20:51 | they know you don’t stand a chance

my love 💖 | 20:51 | so you double the stakes

my love 💖 | 20:52 | and then bam! we win double the money

baNANA 🍓 | 20:52 | wow

baNANA 🍓 | 20:52 | you’re a genius

my love 💖 | 20:53 | I know

my love 💖 | 20:53 | and since I’m acting like I’m not talking to you

my love 💖 | 20:53 | bye

my love 💖 | 20:54 | see you @ the party!

***

Everything went according to my plan. The guys thought I was pissed with Jaemin, while Jaemin still tried to convince them he stands a chance to court me. It was kind of ironic, they wanted to play me, but it was them getting played.

Together with Jiwoo and Ten, we came extra early to Jaehyun’s party. Still being stuck in friendzone, Jiwoo went out of her way to help him out. Today it meant setting up all types of decorations all over the fraternity house and preparing different kinds of snacks.

Around seven, an Uber pulled up in front of our building. Not to brag, but despite the limited amount of time, we managed to dress up to the nines.

I decided to keep it simple. My outfit consisted of a pair of skinny high-waisted black jeans, a long-sleeved sequin embellished crop top, and a pair of ankle-high boots.

Jiwoo, on the other hand, was wearing a two-piece baby pink dress and a pair of massive mid-thigh black leather platform combat boots. She looked fierce, like a weird baby of 90’s Britney Spears and Marilyn Mason.

Though Ten’s outfit looked the most effortless, it took him longer than us to put it together. Having thrown every single thing from his closet on the bed, Ten experienced a mild crisis. Even though he looked gorgeous in everything, he didn’t seem to believe us. Only after the off-hand intervention, he agreed to play it cool with a pair of ripped jeans, a black shirt with three top buttons left untouched, and an oversized leather jacket.

Once we arrived at Jaehyun’s fraternity, nothing was ready. Thankfully, it wasn’t my problem. Jiwoo was the one who volunteered to help out. Ten and I were about to vibe in the corner, letting other people arrange the place according to Jaehyun’s vision.

Trying our best not to disturb others, Ten and I watched the way the smelly fraternity sex mansion turned into a festive valentine’s manor.

“I hope she’s gonna get laid today,” I whispered into Ten’s ear, looking at Jiwoo working like a busy bee around the house.

“She better; that’s really painful to look at,” Ten agreed, looking a little bit disappointed. Jiwoo was at Jaehyun’s beck and call, and it was about time he acknowledged her feelings.

Around nine o’clock, it was getting a little bit crowded.

Music was blasting through the speakers. Some of the fratboys were already looking for their next conquest. Girls were dancing on a makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living area, suggestively swaying their hips, teasing whoever was watching with their sexy moves.

Later on, when I was in the middle of my fourth drink of the night, Jaemin finally showed up. Together with Haechan, Jeno, Renjun, and Chenle, they walked through the threshold. They all looked great, but Jaemin stood out in the crowd. After all, he was the only one to put on a suit jacket over his white T-shirt. While the rest rocked the comfortable outfits, Jaemin opted for a more elegant look.

Almost as if he wanted to impress someone. Or at least, apologize properly, trying every sly trick to make me forgive him.

Upon entrance, his eyes searched me in the crowd, and when he met my gaze, a smile stretched across his face. Shyly, he raised his hand, wanting to wave at me, but since I stubbornly turned my head around, playing my role of offended woman, he lowered it.

“I’ve seen an ATM on our way here,” Renjun commented, knowing Jaemin didn’t stand a chance of winning the bet.

“It won’t be necessary,” Jaemin replied, following me with his gaze. “I didn’t lose it yet,” he added, and the guys laughed at him. There was no way he still thought he could woo me. “I still have a few hours left; I am not going to give up.”

“You’re such a loser,” Jeno interjected as regret washed through him. Although he didn’t actively participate when the bet was placed, he didn’t oppose it. He was an idle bystander, allowing other people to ruin our friendship. It didn’t sit right with him, but it was too late. The damage was already done, and Jaemin was going to embarrass himself even further. “She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“It’s not like that,” Jaemin started, but he refused to explain how exactly it was like.

“You’re still gonna fail,” Haechan added with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Back at the coffee shop, he ruined Jaemin’s chance for success. “Hey there, beautiful,” Haechan spoke when his attention was snatched by one of the girls who walked past them.

Once the boys divided to greet other friends, Jaemin strolled to the kitchen. I was there, and he needed to initiate the first step of our plan.

Sincere apology.

“Can we talk?” Jaemin whispered as he reached out to grab my hand, interrupting my conversation with Ten and Yeri. “Let me explain. You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to listen to me,” he asked, and I unwillingly complied, letting him lead me toward an abandoned corner in the living area. No one could hear us talk, but at the same time, everybody could see us.

“What do you want, Jaemin,” I barked, folding my arms across my chest, startling myself with how good I managed to behave like an angry ex-girlfriend. Though it was my last semester, maybe I should change my major to professional acting.

“Wow. You’re too good at this,” Jaemin commented before he proceeded with his part. “Anyway, I made this card for you. I hope it finds you well,” he announced before he pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

Cautiously, I took the valentine’s card out of the envelope. Once I saw the front page, I couldn’t help but laugh. Jaemin must’ve done it himself, or he stole it from Jeno’s four-year-old niece. It was all covered in hearty stickers and glitter.

Jaemin definitely wasn’t a poet. He had never stood next to one, either.

Instead of a heartfelt apology and love confession, there was a short corny message which simultaneously made me cringe and chuckle.

Are you a ba-NANA? Cause I find you a-peeling.

From Your Love

P.S. it’s from me, your Jaemin

“You’ve really outdone yourself,” I spoke, shaking my head, trying my best not to grin. I was supposed to hate him, but it was too difficult. “I am gonna walk away now. Approach me once you raise the stakes.”

Although I didn’t want to party without Jaemin by my side, it was what I had to do. Having sent him a faint smile, I turned around and walked away, giving Jaemin some time to initiate part two of our plan.

Having drunk a few fancy shots Ten had made for me, we hit the dance floor. At first, we just jumped in the rhythm. However, when the DJ played the song we had practiced at the dance studio, everybody stepped to the side, making enough room to let us perform the choreography.

With alcohol coursing in my system, my moves weren’t as precise as usual – they still earned a round of applause.

“Hey, hey, hey, are you having fun?” Drunk as a skunk, Jaehyun shouted through the microphone connected to the DJ’s console. “How about we slow up the tempo?” Jaehyun yelled, and everybody cheered, making a lot of noise. “Tonight’s the love festival, and I, the valentine’s boy, specifically request every find a person to slow dance with.”

Having set the microphone aside, Jaehyun pushed DJ away from the console, putting on his Cigarettes After Sex playlist. The first song which graced our ears was Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You.

“Can I have this dance?” Jaemin appeared out of nowhere by my side, extending his hand for me to take. “Please?” He looked into my eyes, waiting for my response, looking hopeful.

As soon as I nodded, Jaemin grabbed my hand and gently pulled me against his firm body, resting his left hand on my back, holding me still, making sure I’d not run away. With my head resting against his chest, we swayed slowly, getting lost in our little world.

“They think I am a terrible person,” Jaemin whispered into my ear, his breath tickling my skin. “They seriously think I’d try to ruin our friendship with this bet,” he carried on, and I hummed, taking an inhale, getting hit with Jaemin’s musky cologne.

The boys truly underestimated the power of our friendship. Jaemin and I told each other almost everything. It was bold of them to assume I had no idea about the bet.

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied as I had closed my eyes, getting lost in the moment. “Everything will come back to normal soon enough,” I added, trying to ignore the bittersweet taste of my statement. Our fake relationship had an expiration date, and it was near.

“You’re right. Everything will come back to normal,” Jaemin repeated my words as he rested his chin on top of my head, pulling me even closer. “You’re the best fake girlfriend I’ve ever had,” he added, pressing an innocent peck against my hairline.

“How many fake girlfriends have you had?” I asked, chuckling, sounding a bit jealous.

“Anyway,” Jaemin started, trying to change the subject. “The guys took the bait. And now, judging by the stupid looks on their faces, they’re shitting their pants.”

“Once the song is over, we should initiate the third phase of our plan,” I commented, wanting to be over with this. In about a minute, I was about to pull Jaemin out of the dance floor and lead him to the bathroom upstairs, where we would do the deed.

When another song from Jaehyun’s playlist echoed in the room, all the other couples kept dancing. Jaemin and I, on the other hand, were about to not so discreetly sneak upstairs.

Unfortunately, we met an obstacle on our path.

It was Jaehyun, pointing his phone at our faces.

“It’s a kiss cam. Do what you gotta do,” he spoke, and I creased my forehead in utter confusion. What the hell was he doing? What the hell was a kiss cam? It was a frat party, not a baseball match. Didn’t he have a beer pong championship to win or something?

“What?”

“Do I really have to explain this to everyone? Jesus,” Jaehyun complained, taking a deep sigh, trying to ease his irritation. “It’s Valentine’s day! I am Valentine’s boy! And this is a kiss cam. You kiss, and I take pictures,” he explained, but I wasn’t convinced. “Hurry up! I have to take like 50 more of them.”

At first, I didn’t want to do it. But then, a thought crossed my mind. Who would believe Jaemin and I had sex if I refused to give him a kiss. It was just one kiss; it wouldn’t hurt.

Having licked my lips, I smiled at Jaemin before I wrapped my hands around his neck, giving him a chaste smooch. It lasted maybe a few seconds, but it still made me uneasy. Even if it was just a brief peck, it was too much for my poor heart.

“What the fuck was that?” Jaehyun groaned in disappointment. “One more time, guys. That’s how you kiss your mother, not your girlfriend. You can do better.”

“Show him how it’s done, Jaemin,” I encouraged him, giving him permission to assault my lips, hoping it would happen to be one hell of a performance.

Having smirked, Jaemin leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against mine. Cautiously, he deepened the kiss, knocking the air out of my lungs, making my legs shake under my weight. His hands held my chin in place as his tongue slipped through my lips.

Out of a sudden, nothing else mattered. Jaemin and I were in our bubble, and despite it being a one-time thing, I wished it lasted forever. Whatever expectations I had about this moment, it wasn’t even close to reality.

Jaehyun cleared his throat, wanting to pull us out of our trance. In vain, though. I moved my lips against Jaemin’s in slow sync, letting the sweet sensation strip me of the last remains of dignity. I was to savor every second of it, basking in bliss.

“Ekhem,” Jaehyun grunted, starting to feel a little bit flustered. “You guys done?”

Once we broke apart to take a breath, Jaehyun spoke again.

“Have you seen Jiwoo, by the way?”

“Yeah, I think she went for a smoke with Lucas,” I answered casually, watching panic display on Jaehyun’s face. It was evident he didn’t fancy the newfound information. “She went outside like half an hour ago, though. I wonder what it takes them so long,” I added, planting another grain of doubt in his subconscious.

As soon as anxiety downed on him, Jaehyun bolted outside. He better, though. If Jaehyun wasn’t going to make a move on Jiwoo tonight, I was about to find another guy to ship her with.

“You did it again,” Jaemin pointed out, and I just shrugged, dismissing his comment. So what? One push in the right direction wasn’t enough for Jaehyun to grow up, so I decided to be generous enough to give him a second chance.

“Are you ready for phase three?” I asked Jaemin, but before he managed to reply, I grabbed his hand, pulling him across the dance floor. Giggling, I ran through the sea of people, not so accidentally bumping into Chenle, almost spilling his beer.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” I hollered, giggling. Now, when I had Chenle’s attention, we could sneak upstairs to proceed with the final step of our plan. “Come on, Jaemin, let’s go. I am horny,” I added, probably overdoing my part. Unfortunately, the words were already spoken. I couldn’t take them back.

Having locked the bathroom doors behind us, I jumped onto the countertop. “Don’t you think it’s a bit creepy they’re gonna eavesdrop on us bang? It’s kinda off-putting, you know…”

When Jaemin wanted to speak, somebody knocked on the doors. It must’ve been one of Jaemin’s friends, checking if we were indeed fucking. “It’s occupied,” Jaemin hollered, mentioning for me to start my performance.

“Fuck, Jaemin! Eat me out, already,” I yelled, pressing my hands against my mouth, trying to stifle my laugher. This situation was ridiculous, and I couldn’t help myself but giggle. I had only a few drinks, yet I felt like I was high as a kite. “Yes, like that! Ahhh…”

“Can’t wait to fuck that tight hole,” Jaemin played along, almost dying of alcohol-induced tittering. We were definitely having too much fun.

“Right there, Jaemin!” I screamed, holding my stomach as it began aching due to excessive cackling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there,” I moaned loudly, kicking my head back. “Don’t tease me, please!”

“I gotta get you ready for my cock, love,” Jaemin growled, and I gasped, my mind conjuring the forbidden image®.

“Just fuck me! I need your cock inside of me now!” I groaned, hoping whoever was on the other side of the doors heard enough of what was going inside. “Mmmm… you stretch me out so well…” I purred, almost falling off the counter when another round of uncontrollable laughter tried to erupt from my throat.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight.”

“Jaemin! Fuck, I am close. Keep going,” I yelled, mentally preparing for the big finale. This whole act was a vocal performance, and it was time I finished. “I’m coming! Come with me!”

“It was spectacular,” Jaemin whispered so only I could hear him. “I have one more favor, though,” he added, shying away. Oh no, he was about to ask about something stupid.

“What is it?”

“It could’ve been some random dude,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head, unsure how to voice his supplication. “Give me your panties. It’ll be the definite proof.”

“You’re joking,” I deadpanned, staring into his eyes, waiting for him to say it was just a harmless prank. “You’re serious,” I added as soon as I realized Jaemin meant it.

“Come on, I won’t be sniffing them,” Jaemin nagged, and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t even think about it, but now that he mentioned it, I had another reason not to comply with his weird-ass request. “I’ll give them back, I promise.”

“I can’t believe I am considering this,” I cursed under my breath. If any other person would like such a favor from me, I’d deny it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, I had a soft spot for Jaemin, so denying him didn’t come easy to me.

Hell, I wouldn’t be here if I was able to say no to him.

“You owe me big time,” I caved in, jumping off the countertop, stepping behind the shower curtain, providing myself with some privacy. “Don’t peek. Even if I slip, you gotta stay on the other side. Got it?” I added as I stuck my head through the curtain.

“Scout’s honor,” Jaemin pledged, and I rolled my eyes. He was a scout for maybe a week. His honor didn’t mean shit.

Clumsily, I took off my shoes and jeans. “Here,” I warned before I threw my panties over the curtain. “I am too sober for this,” I nagged, trying to put my skinny jeans back on.

“Let’s do celebratory shots!” Jaemin suggested, balling up my undergarments, hiding them in his pocket. “We deserve it,” he added, landing me a helping hand when I was stepping out of the shower.

“Let’s go.”

***

Needless to say, Jaemin won the bet.

Unfortunately, it meant the inevitable end of our fake relationship. It was fun when it lasted, and though I’d miss these times, it was time to set the record straight.

As we had discussed, we had to arrange our break up.

Sometime next week, Jaemin stopped by to give me half of the prize. Since the boys had been stupid enough to fall for our little charade, I received a large sum of money. It was Chenle who sponsored the prize. Because of that, I didn’t feel particularly sorry about deceiving them. After all, Chenle was so loaded; he wouldn’t notice if he lost that kind of money on the street. I could finally buy these shoes which I had been dreaming of for so long! Better yet, I'd still have some money left to spoil myself some more.

“How should we do it?” Jaemin asked quietly. Ever since he came, he avoided my gaze, staring at the floor.

“I don’t know,” I unwillingly answered. This conversation was the last thing I wanted to do right now, but it had to be done. Better sooner or later, before I’d catch some real feelings for Jaemin. I had no idea how I would pick up the pieces of my broken heart if we kept this act any longer. “Let’s just delete all posts we published. Someone will figure out something’s wrong, and when they spread the word, we’ll explain we decided to remain friends.”

Maybe I wasn’t in tears, but I felt regret wash through me. Though our relationship had never been a real thing, it felt like it.

And it hurt.

“Alright then,” Jaemin complied, rubbing his hands against his thighs before he pulled out his phone to erase any digital footprint of our brief romance. His thumb hovered over the delete button for a while. After a few moments of hesitation, when he didn’t hear any sign of protest from my side, he pressed it, sending our memories to a bottomless void. “And it’s gone.”

“Are we cool?” I asked, hoping that nothing would change between us. I had a hunch it would take me some time to get used to how things had been before the relationship fiasco. Nonetheless, I still had hope we could remain best friends without any awkwardness.

“Of course,” Jaemin answered with a faint smile, but I didn’t fully believe him. Something was off, and it bothered us. Shame that none of us dared to begin this topic.

After he left that day, we saw each other very seldom. We barely even spoke to one another. If it wasn’t for the group chats we were both in, we wouldn’t talk at all.

Jaemin had said we were cool, but it was evident we weren’t.

It was eating me from the inside out, but whenever somebody asked me about the break-up, I’d always shrug it off, confirming everything’s great. I would tell our friends nothing changed between us. There was nothing wrong; our schedules are just incompatible these days.

When I had pretended I was in a relationship with Jaemin, it was easy. It came naturally, and everyone ate it up without any second thoughts. Unfortunately, now, when I was trying to play it cool, no one seemed to buy it. Thankfully, they didn’t confront me about it. Instead, they offered me their support if I ever needed anything.

In my head, I had a few wild scenarios in which I tell Jaemin we should date for real. However, at the same time, a little devil on my shoulder was telling me it should never leave the realm of fantasy. It’s ridiculous to think Jaemin would reciprocate my feelings.

I felt as if sadness took over my body. Though I was smiling on the outside, I was filled with regret. Barely anything sparked joy these gloomy days. Even this pair of shoes, which I wanted so badly, didn’t stir any positive emotion. I bought them, but I never took them out of the box.

Jiwoo had taken me out on a few girls’ nights to make me feel better. Men are trash – she would always say when Jaehyun ignored her yet another text. Even though they had fucked each other at Jaehyun’s birthday party and agreed to become exclusive, Jaehyun still had lots of problems committing to a monogamous relationship. They hadn’t officially labeled it, but everyone knew Jaehyun was slowly caving in.

Fratboys’ habits die hard, but Jaehyun was finally shaping himself into boyfriend material. He no longer slept around, as far to my knowledge at least, but he still lacked in some departments. For instance, it would take him way too much to text back.

“You were so adorable together,” Jiwoo began after she gulped down another rum and coke. Despite her high alcohol tolerance, she was already drunk, speaking with no filter. “I mean… you were simping for him for so long, and you finally managed to jump that dick.”

“Your point being…” I inquired, finishing my drink. Though Jaemin and I had never had sex, I didn’t want to admit that. What would Jiwoo thought if I told her it was all-pretend?

“I shipped you guys so hard,” Jiwoo confessed. “Ten shipped you too, but he will never admit that,” she added, and I giggled. Now, that was an interesting take. Ten was so random at many aspects of life; it came to me as a surprise he even had an opinion on my relationship with Jaemin. “Can I just take some duck tape and put my ship back together?”

“I am not sure Jaemin would like that,” I answered with a sigh, my mood instantly decreasing.

“Nonsense,” Jiwoo replied in a heartbeat. “This guy is even worse than you,” she revealed, and I rolled my eyes, not buying this. At least a few times a week, at my lowest moments, I happened to check Jaemin’s social media updates. He didn’t seem to mope around at all.

“I find it hard to believe,” I muttered, trying not to get too emotional.

“I mean it,” Jiwoo confirmed her previous statement, eager to explain her thesis. “Jaehyun and I went on a little date to the coffee shop where Jaemin works,” she started, and I nodded, not really sure what she was getting at. Nonetheless, I let her continue. I was curious what Jaemin had been up to. And since he didn’t seem to want to tell me anything himself, I’d accept any type of second-hand information from Jiwoo. “Jaemin misses you. You have no idea how many times I caught him daydreaming. He still has your photo set on his lock screen, and he stares at it a lot.”

Now, that’s interesting.

I had no recollection of Jaemin ever setting my photo as his background picture. Even if Jiwoo was right, it meant he set after we had broken up. It made no sense at all, and I was too drunk to try to comprehend the meaning of this.

Instead, I ordered another round, trying to stifle all the brooding emotions within me.

***

February was the month of parties. Too many birthdays fell during this hectic period, and I had trouble keeping up with them. Fortunately, Ten’s party was the last one of the month. After a small get together at our place, I’d have some time off to relax by myself, most preferably, without alcohol.

Being the semi-hosts with Jiwoo, it was our duty to help Ten organize everything regarding his party. Though our trio was a little bit disorganized, somehow, we managed to get everything ready before anyone arrived.

Maybe it wasn’t comparable to birthday parties at fraternity houses; it still had its charm. It wasn’t as wild, but guests still were having a great time in the company of their closest friends. However, what was the most important, Ten had a blast.

It was his day; he deserved everything he wanted.

Trying my best not to embarrass Ten, I decided to socialize with his friends.

It was time I move on. It took me way too long to mourn a relationship that wasn’t even real. I couldn’t let my brooding mood ruin the party.

“Hmm… Ten has never mentioned you before,” I confessed, not finding it particularly odd. Ten didn’t have secretive nature; he just wasn’t the type of person to over-share. And he often forgot to even mention stuff about his personal life.

“I can’t say I am surprised,” Hendery replied, making me giggle. It was fun chatting with him. Hendery was hilarious, and he knew many secrets regarding Ten. It was my mission to get as much information from him as it was possible. I would need it for blackmailing purposes, of course.

Hiding out in the kitchen, we sipped beer and exchanged rumors as if we were two gossip girls. It was too entertaining to stop. I was incredibly immersed in the conversation; I didn’t even realize when someone tapped my shoulder.

“Can we talk?” I heard the question, recognizing the voice in an instant. It belonged to Jaemin, and it seemed to be laced with both jealousy and irritation. The way he phased his plea gave me flashbacks of the conversation we had at Jaehyun’s party.

I really wanted to continue my discussion with Hendery, but I couldn’t say no to Jaemin. It wasn’t how my brain was programmed. Besides, I missed him a lot.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” I told Hendery before I grabbed Jaemin’s hand, leading him to my room, locking the doors behind us.

“Nothing was supposed to change,” Jaemin started as he sat at the edge of my bed, leaning forward with his upper body propped on his elbows. His gaze was trained on the floor, too frustrated to look up at me.

“I know,” I whispered as I sat down in my chair on the other side of the room. My first instinct was to kneel in front of Jaemin, kiss his forehead, and assure him that everything’s going to be alright.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like a good idea, so I refrained from doing so. “I am sorry, it’s my fault.”

“Don’t,” Jaemin interjected before I embarrassed myself even further. “We’re both at fault.”

Despite the loud party noises coming from the other side of the doors, my bedroom was filled with deafening silence. It was awfully uncomfortable, and it was probably a good thing. One of us would get annoyed eventually and cave in, letting out all the bottled up emotions.

“I missed you,” I admitted, staring at my hands. I was all fidgety, and although I was too embarrassed to reveal my inner feelings, Jaemin deserved to know this much.

“I missed you, too,” he genuinely confessed, showing me a shy smile. “Actually, I missed you more than I thought it was possible to miss a person,” Jaemin carried on, and I held my breath, not ready to hear whatever he had to say. “You have no idea how much I wanted to text you or call you, but ultimately decided not to because I was sure you don’t want me to.”

“Jaemin,” I spoke, not really sure what I should say next. I had too many things I wanted to tell him about. However, now when he was here, I couldn’t properly voice my thoughts.

“Are you dating this guy you were talking to in the kitchen?” Jaemin asked out of the blue, catching me off guard with this random accusation. “Or do you want to date him? You two looked like you’re having a great time together,” he added, and I rolled my eyes. At first, Jaemin acted on his jealously, but then, insecurity crept in.

“I don’t know. I met Hendery today, but he seems like a great guy,” I answered honestly, thinking of possibilities of me trying to pursing something of romantic nature with Hendery. After our brief encounter, I could tell he’s fun to be around. And honestly speaking, I might’ve considered dating him if I hadn’t already had feelings for someone else.

Unfortunately, right now, I wasn’t in the right state of mind to date. Not when I was still hung up on my best friend.

“I probably won’t, though. I like somebody else,” I confessed, gaining Jaemin’s interest. Instantly, he sat up, staring into my eyes, patiently waiting for the reveal. “I am stupid, but I like this one guy. He’s such a jerk, I can’t even… he’s been ghosting me for weeks now,” I carried on, hoping Jaemin would get the hint.

Two weeks ago, we promised each other nothing would change. Despite our good intentions, it did. Even though I hadn’t told Jaemin how I really felt, I still lost my best friend.

My silence didn’t save this friendship. I tried to bottle up my emotions to secure our unbreakable bond. It didn’t work, so I figured confessing my feelings wouldn’t do any more harm. Surely, Jaemin was going to reject me, but at least, I’d clear the air between us.

Hopefully, my confession, followed by a harsh rejection, would help me move on.

Instantly, Jaemin ran up to my chair and knelt in front of me, trying to look into my eyes. “Please tell me this jerk is me,” Jaemin urgently spoke, unable to handle any more suspense. Jaemin’s gaze was hopeful, and it was too much for me to comprehend.

“What?” I asked, still being overwhelmed by confusion. What was going on? Why was Jaemin on his knees in front of me? Nothing made sense. How was I supposed to wrap my head around it? “I mean… yeah, it’s you. Who else could it be?”

“You have no idea how sorry I am,” Jaemin confessed as he grabbed my hand and yanked me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me, giving me a tight hug. “You could’ve said something… anything,” he added as he pulled back his head, placing a chase kiss against my forehead.

“I didn’t want to scare you away,” I admitted quietly, unable to break free from Jaemin’s cone-crashing embrace. I couldn’t believe he was so close. Na Jaemin was holding me in his arms, letting me listen to his rapid heartbeat.

“The worst two weeks of my life,” Jaemin spoke, once again breaking the silence. “It felt at least like two centuries,” he added, making me chuckle. Of course, it was an exaggeration, but it’s how I felt, too.

“How about we start over?” I proposed, taking a step backward to have a proper look at him. “Will you go on a date with me? This time around for real, no pretending,” I carried on, trying not to grin like an idiot.

“No.”

“What?”

What the fuck was that?

Did I misunderstand Jaemin’s words? I thought he felt the same, but apparently, he didn’t? Everything suggested he followed my flow only to crush my expectations, later on, leaving a big ass scar and more trust issues.

“I mean yes, but I should be me asking you out. Definitely not the other way around,” Jaemin clarified, making me relax. Thankfully, my mini panic attack was uncalled for. It was just my brain over-analyzing everything, conjuring the worst possible scenario.

“Then you better do your best to woo me,” I teased, wondering if he was willing enough to take the bait. It was just a mere joke, reminding me how it all began. He had wooed me once, and I wasn’t going to oppose to a second attempt. “Fun dates, romantic messages, silly gifts. I want it all,” I added, going a little bit overboard with my request list.

“Everything can be arranged,” Jaemin replied with a lopsided smile before he tightened his grip, almost crashing my bones in the process.

***

Jaemin and I began dating. This time around, it was real; no more pretending, no more stupid bets. Just two people who had discovered friendship could never be enough.

Even though I had told Jaemin I was just joking about this whole wooing thing, he refused to accept it, going to extreme lengths to make my heart flutter. I was already stupidly in love with him, yet he kept trying to make me swoon even more.

Despite our busy schedules, we made sure to see each other every day. It could’ve been a date at the arcade or just a quick coffee or a video call. In all honestly, I gladly accepted any form of contact from Jaemin.

I hated the prospect of going through a day without any message from him.

Except for many mini and maxi dates, Jaemin would also spoil me with plenty of encouraging notes of many kinds. Each massage from Jaemin was even sillier from the previous one. He never ceased to amaze me.

At first, Jaemin would stick post-it notes in different places in my room. Whenever I paid no attention, he would quickly write one for me to find it later. Whenever I saw sleep tight message stuck to my bedpost or you looked extra sexy today attached to the mirror, I smiled like an idiot, imaging Jaemin writing it.

If Jaemin forgot about post-it notes, he would always make it up to me by sending me corny direct messages. We would always text each other before sleep, and Jaemin never failed to make me smile with words such as:

If you happen to have wet dreams of me, you gotta tell me everything that happened. We can recreate it later.

I saw some sexy lingerie on my way home. Your ass would look amazing in it. I’m gonna buy it for you when I get my paycheck.

You’re the reason I wake up in the morning. Just kidding, I have to pee.

Whenever we went out, Jaemin would also scribble something either on a napkin or on a receipt. One time, Jaemin even gave a crumbled piece of paper that he was carrying in his pocket for some reason.

You know I’d give you my kidney, right? And a piece of the liver if you ask nicely. I hope you would do the same for me.

When we have kids, I’ll let you name the first one. Don’t fuck it up.

You’re my favorite pain in the ass.

You are stuck with me. You better get used to it.

Messy notes weren’t sufficient for Jaemin. Although I was more than content with the attention and affection he was giving me, it wasn’t enough for Jaemin. With each massage, he had to out-do himself.

Jaemin even wrote me a song! Or at least, he tried to write me a song. It was really bold of him to assume I didn’t know the lyrics to Jonas Brothers’ Sucker. I loved this song, and even though I perfectly knew it wasn’t Jaemin’s piece of work, I still appreciated the gesture.

Later on, his love letters reached another level of ridiculousness. Jaemin sent me a love e-mail, and if that doesn’t prove how extra he can get, I don’t know what can.

Jaemin didn’t stop there. No, it was just a warm-up.

When I was checking the mailbox, I found a paper plane stuck in between bills. Jaemin must’ve put it there, probably after one of his frequent visits to my apartment. Though the paper plane was a little bit crumbled, I found it incredibly adorable. On its wing, it had “open me” written with Jaemin’s messy handwriting. Inside there was a corny message that turned my insides in absolute cringe.

Your wings already exist. All you have to do is fly.

A few days later, Jaemin gave me a CD with the love playlist he had made for me. Carefully, he had chosen our favorite songs and burned them on a disc. I had no means to actually play it, but I adored the gesture.

Jaemin’s creativity did not disappoint. At this point, he might send me a love letter via a fax machine, and I wouldn’t be surprised. There were no limitations to his imagination, and it was one of the many things I loved about him.

Neither of us dropped the L-bomb yet, but we really didn’t need to. Though that dreaded word has yet to be spoken, we perfectly knew how we felt about each other. We would do anything for one another; no doubt in that.

Having exceeded my expectations, Jaemin proved himself worthy of being my boyfriend. Or rather, he showed me he was way out of my league. When he was bending over backward, I was passively basking in the glory of Jaemin’s confessions. Relationships were about giving and taking, and it seemed our balance was off.

It was time we switched roles. It was only fair if I tried to creep my way into his heart the way he had been wooing mine.

As soon as I cleaned up the apartment and pampered myself a little bit, I pulled out my phone, quickly texting Jaemin. Hopefully, he wasn’t that busy.

my love 💖 | 18:12 | U want to come over?

baNANA 🍓 | 18:16 | 😏

baNANA 🍓 | 18:16 | You miss me???

my love 💖 | 18:17 | 🤡 🤡 🤡 🤡 🤡

my love 💖 | 18:17 | nvm forget I asked

baNANA 🍓 | 18:17 | 😧 😧 😧

baNANA 🍓 | 18:18 | I’ll be in an hour

baNANA 🍓 | 18:18 | want me to bring anything?

my love 💖 | 18:19 | nah, just get your cute butt over here

baNANA 🍓 | 18:19 | ?????

baNANA 🍓 | 18:19 | are you high??

baNANA 🍓 | 18:19 | should I be concerned?

Okay, I had an hour to prepare something for our impromptu date. It was fine; it was more than enough than I needed. The apartment was already clean, so I just had to whip something to eat and cool the bubbles.

For some reason, I felt in a celebratory mood. Whatever tempo Jaemin and I had, it worked in two week periods. We had fake-dated for fourteen days before we called it quits. Then, we didn’t talk to each other for two weeks. Tonight another period came by, and I wanted to celebrate it, hoping to break the unfortunate chain of bad luck.

The alcohol was already in the refrigerator. Having put on an apron, I opened all the cabinets around the kitchen, quickly analyzing the ingredients and what I can make out of them. It wasn’t much, but pasta would have to be enough.

It wasn’t a fancy dish, but I was made it with love, so Jaemin shouldn’t have any complaints. Pouring my emotions into the pasta was to make it extra flavorful.

When the sauce was slowly cooking on the stove, I decorated the table. I wanted to provide Jaemin with some high-end restaurant experience despite being in my cramped apartment. It was the best thing out of two words; we had all privacy in the world offered by a homely atmosphere, but at the same time, we would eat some beautifully garnished food.

Just when I was about to drain the pasta, someone knocked on the doors.

“Coming,” I hollered before I put the pot in the sink, wiping my hands on the apron before making my way to answer the doors. “Hey there, beautiful,” I greeted Jaemin with a playful remark, standing on my toes to press a brief smooch on his adorable lips. It took him off guard, but in some sense, he liked it.

“Hey, it’s my line,” Jaemin nagged when his hands found purchase on my hips, bringing me closer for another kiss since one was never enough. “What do you have there? It smells delicious,” Jaemin turned his head, trying to peek inside to see what surprise I had prepared for him.

“You know, just some carbs,” I answered vaguely, sending him a playful smirk, not wanting to ruin the surprise. I wanted him to sit down at the table and wait for me to bring the whole dish and pour us some cheap champagne.

Jaemin took off his shoes, kicking them to the side. A second later, he handed me his coat, and I put it on the hanger. Jaemin was wearing a pair of gray jeans and a mint oversized hoodie, and I drooled over this comfortable look. He didn’t have to try hard to impress me.

“Just wait here. I’ll be back in a sec,” I spoke when I guided Jaemin to the table, forcing him to sit down in the chair. Jaemin wanted to help me out in the kitchen, but I firmly refused. Tonight I wished to impress Jaemin; he didn’t have to move a finger.

“I know it’s not much, but I hope you’ll still like it,” I whispered when I put a plate in front of him. “Dig in,” I added as I sat on the other side of the table, carefully trying to pop the champagne bottle open. Though I hated doing it, too afraid of breaking something or hurting someone, tonight I wanted to try it.

“What’s the occasion,” Jaemin wondered as he fondly watched me fight with the bottle. “Do you need some help? You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Jaemin offered, genuinely concerned about my safety. However, I just turned around, wanting to finish it by myself.

It took me good five minutes to pop it. And when I finally did it, Jaemin gave me a round of pitiful applause, officially declaring it’s his job from now on.

“It was just painful to watch,” Jaemin playfully commented, and I kicked his shin under the table, showing him how much appreciated his remark was. “So… what’s the occasion?”

“Do I really need to have a reason to spoil my boyfriend?” I innocently asked, batting my eyelashes, and Jaemin smiled at the word boyfriend. We had never discussed labels, but it was self-explanatory we were in a loving relationship. “I figured it’d be nice to give you some more attention,” I absentmindedly added as I reached for my phone to play some soft EDM music through the Bluetooth speaker.

“Is that it?” Jaemin wondered, gazing into my eyes, searching for any ulterior motive I might have. “Are you sure you’re not trying to butter me up before you say something I may not like? What did you do?” Jaemin inquired, and I chuckled loudly.

“Calm down, Na,” I spoke, making Jaemin look up at me once again. I only called him by his surname when I was extra affectionate, so he was curious what I was going to say. “I just wanted to hang out with you. That’s all,” I confessed, but Jaemin scrutinized his eyes, not really buying my innocent talk. “Okay, fine. There’s one more thing.”

“What is it?” Jaemin inquired, grinning at me.

“Can’t you already tell? I am trying to woo my way into your pants, duh,” I confessed, and Jaemin choked on his champagne as he did not expect this wording. “Your heart! I meant to say into your heart,” I corrected when I realized my little Freudian slip. “Wait, no, screw it. I second that. I want to get into both.”

“You’ve already got into one,” Jaemin declared with a lopsided smirk pinned to his face. “But... if you don’t suspect it already, you’re welcome in both,” he added mischievously, taking a sip of his alcohol. I, on the other hand, looked away, feeling the heat in my cheeks.

“Good to know.”

“Where are Jiwoo and Ten by the way?” Jaemin wondered as he looked around the apartment, finding it suspicious they didn’t crash our date yet. Under typical circumstances, Jiwoo or Ten would haul another chair to the table and steal the food, third-wheeling our date.

“Ten is at the dance studio. He’s having a dance competition next week, so he goes there every time he has some free time to practice. And Jiwoo is with Jaehyun. He came here to pick her up a few hours ago. I don’t think either of them is coming home anytime soon,” I explained, smirking. We had the place to ourselves.

Finally, we could bask in each other’s company without any intrusive guests.

“I’d like to cheers to that,” Jaemin raised his glass, clinking it gently against mine.

Having eaten the food, we moved to the couch.

“What now?” Jaemin asked as he stretched his arm, resting it on the back of the couch right over my shoulders.

“I have one more surprise,” I announced before I jumped to my feet. “Wait a second,” I added before bolting to my bedroom.

“What is it?” Jaemin inquired, having no clue what else I could surprise him with. “What do you have there?” He pressed, tilting his head to the side, trying to see what I was hiding behind my back.

“Let’s take some pictures,” I announced in excitement, showing him my Polaroid camera. “I finally bought some film, and I really want our photo in my wallet,” I added as I plopped down onto the couch, resting my head against Jaemin’s chest. “You take it,” I ordered, handing him the camera. After all, he was the prodigy of photography. Besides, his hands were longer than mine.

“I think that’s more than enough,” Jaemin spoke after snapping the twelfth picture.

Having put the camera on the coffee table, he wrapped his arms around me. Jaemin pulled me on his laps, embracing me tightly, placing a round of pecks against my temple.

“Wait! One more thing,” I hollered, leaning forward to reach for the envelope which was lying on the coffee table next to our photos.

“You can’t say it’s the last thing and then bring another one. That’s not how it works,” Jaemin nagged, a little flustered that I managed to find another excuse when he wanted to cuddle. “Who are you? A fitness instructor? When you say it’s the last one, it should be the last one. You can’t come up with new ones every three minutes.”

“I promise it’s the last one,” I sat cross-legged on the couch beside him, handing him the envelope. Cautiously, he pulled the card out of it, and I looked at him, studying his expression in excitement.

“Annoyingly, I like you way more than I’d originally planned,” Jaemin read the cover of the card, smiling widely at the passive-aggressive message. “It’s already good, and I didn’t even read what you wrote inside,” he commented before he leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “I don’t get it,” he added in confusion as he saw the blank page inside the card.

“It’s my love letter for you,” I clarified, but Jaemin was still clueless.

“It’s a blank page. You really have that little to say?” Jaemin asked, trying to make sense out of my card.

“That’s not how you were supposed to interpret that!” I yelled, climbing on his laps, wanting to tear the card out of his ungrateful hands. Unfortunately, Jaemin’s hands were longer than mine, so even when I was hovering over his thighs, I couldn’t reach it.

“How was I supposed to interpret that then?” Jaemin challenged, holding my hips, forcing them down on his laps.

“I wanted to write something meaningful, but I just couldn’t decide what. I have so many things I want to tell you, it wouldn’t even fit on the card,” I started, trying to find the best way to form a coherent sentence. “One way to interpret it is that you have to imagine it’s written in a very tiny font. Because I have so much to tell you, I wrote everything down, but you just can’t read it.”

“I like it,” Jaemin whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against my knuckles.

“Or you can say it’s blank because whenever I’m with you, my head is completely empty,” I added, chuckling at the corny confession. “Or you can assume there are no words to describe my feelings for you.”

“How is it possible that without writing anything, you managed to top all of my love letters?” Jaemin wondered, smiling at me. “What kind of sorcery is this?”

“No, Jaemin. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. I loved your love letters. They were silly, but at the same time, I could feel you really meant everything,” I reasoned, looking down at Jaemin’s lips, slowly leaning in for a delicate kiss.

“Okay, I have an idea,” Jaemin suddenly spoke as he grabbed my butt and threw me off his laps. “I need a pen,” he added, looking around the living room, finding the pen on the coffee table. In a hurry, he scribbled down something on the blank page of the card, making sure I couldn’t peek. “Here, I found my way to interpret it.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Jaemin answered confidently, handing me the card. “Read it out loud for me.”

“Okay, I guess,” I cleared my throat before I opened the card. “My beloved Jaemin,” I read, looking at Jaemin’s face with a raised eyebrow. This was going to be good.

“Carry on,” he urged, and I shook my head, unable to believe I was going to do it.

“You’re the most handsome man I have ever seen. You’re also the smartest and the funniest. Not to mention, you’re the best kisser in the world. What the fuck is this?” I interjected, having doubts, knowing it was a bad idea.

“Just keep reading, babe,” Jaemin ordered, wanting me to carry on with his antics. “Though you’re no poet, it’s, by a huge margin, the best love letter I have ever received,” he added, blowing his ego way out of proportion, and I rolled my eyes.

“Now, when I look at you, I understand there’s not a chance I wouldn’t fall for you. So, since there’s not much space left, I just wanna tell you that I love you. I really love you, Jaemin.”

Before I managed to complain that he forced me to say the L-word first, Jaemin interjected.

“Finally, took you long enough,” he teased, and I sighed, wondering where to hit him first. “As if you haven’t figured it out yet, I love you, too.”

“You’re impossible,” I commented, still not quite sure if we just confessed to each other.

“I’m impossible not to fall in love with,” Jaemin corrected, once again hauling me back on his laps, taking my breath away with a fervent kiss. “How about you show me how you want to get into my pants, babe?”

Having had enough of Jaemin’s teasing, I decided not to comply with his request.

“I think you should go.”

“You’re right,” Jaemin agreed too quickly, and it made me alert. “Let’s go to your room because once I start pounding into you, I will not stop even if a group of nuns was about to break in and steal all of your shit,” he added as he picked me up, carrying me to my bedroom.

“You’re impossible,” I repeated my words when Jaemin threw me onto my bed before he landed on it right beside me.

“I think we’ve already discussed this,” he remarked, reminding me of the remark he had given me earlier. “So… where were we?” Jaemin asked as he put his hand on my side, pulling me closer. Soon enough, his palm slipped under the hem of my shirt, caressing my skin.

“Is it weird that the only thing I can think about is you eating me out?” I wondered out loud, stripped of all remains of dignity. Jaemin was in my bed, and I was planning on taking full advantage of it.

“Not at all, love,” Jaemin replied, showing me his eager smile. Quickly, he sat on his calves between my legs, taking his time to take off my jeans. “I thought about eating you out way too often ever since that thing in the bathroom,” Jaemin confessed as he threw my jeans across the room.

Though my panties were still on, Jaemin began his teasing. His soft lips trailed across my thighs, driving me crazy. His lips touched every inch of my skin except for the area I wanted the most. At this point, my panties were dripping wet, yet he didn’t even think of pulling them to the side, giving attention to my much-ignored core.

“You’re killing me,” I whispered, slowly losing patience. If Jaemin kept up with his antics, I’d combust out of sexual frustration. “Bold of you to assume I won’t let you taste your own medicine,” I warned Jaemin. It worked because as soon as I voiced my mischievous threat, Jaemin’s finger hooked under the hem of my panties, quickly pulling them down my legs.

“You’re no fun at all,” Jaemin clarified before his lips finally landed on my clit, making me buckle my hips in an instant. Slowly, his mouth moved against my sweet spot, and I arched my back with each swirl of his tongue.

Though he barely started, I could feel the electricity coursing through my body. In my state of permanent frustration, it wouldn’t be difficult for Jaemin to make me come against his mouth.

Getting into it, Jaemin squeezed my hips, trying to keep me still when he ate me out. His jaw was dripping in my juices as he made his way down to lick my folds.

“Fuck,” I moaned loudly when Jaemin’s nose rubbed my clit when he was running his tongue all over my entrance. “I think I am gonna come,” I admitted what made Jaemin smirk through the kiss. Jaemin barely touched me, but I was already close.

“Come for me,” Jaemin urged, releasing my hips from his firm grip. Now when I could buckle my hips against his face, my orgasm was just seconds away. With my hand in his hair, I rocked my hips, basking in pleasure.

“I need your fingers,” I begged, and Jaemin quickly obeyed my shameful plea. I expected him to tease me further, denying me his long fingers, but he was kind enough to do anything to make me come.

Thanks to my juices and Jaemin’s saliva, his two fingers slid right in.

“Fuck,” I shouted at the top of my voice when the wave of pleasure shot right through me. Jaemin’s jaw still played with my clit as he continued his actions throughout the orgasm.

“You blew my mind, Jaemin,” I muttered after I regained my focus after he had made me come on his face. “I came so hard,” I confessed, smiling like an idiot. It was way too long ever since someone made me feel this good.

“You better get used to it because I am planning this to be a frequent occurrence,” Jaemin whispered, looking at my face as if it was an art piece. “Do you have condoms?” he casually asked as he pulled down his jeans. His erected cock was restrained in the denim fabric, and Jaemin needed to get rid of it.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” I replied as I opened the bedside table and threw a brand new package of condoms at Jaemin’s chest. “Jiwoo got me those after she walked on our pillow fight the other day. Apparently, she doesn’t want any cum stains on the couch.”

For a while, we were lying on the bed, staring at each other. Jaemin gave me some time to recover from my orgasm. According to him, I needed to take breaks because he didn’t want to over-stimulate me too soon.

“I really love you,” Jaemin confessed genuinely, and I quickly rolled closer to him, giving him another chase smooch. His confession was music to my ears, and I could listen to it on repeat without getting tired of it.

“I love you, too,” I quickly replied, leaning in for another kiss. With his hand on my cheek, he deepened the kiss, giving us another chance to get lost in the love trance.

Having thrown my leg over his hipbone, I hovered over his erection.

“Let me take care of you,” I said as I pulled away from the kiss. With a playful smirk upon my face, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. Slowly after, my bra followed suit, and Jaemin grunted upon seeing me completely naked in front of him.

“Sexy,” he purred before he eagerly took off his hoodie, throwing it onto the floor. “On a second thought, maybe you should put something on. You’re too sexy, and I’d like to last longer,” Jaemin explained, handing me his hoodie so I could cover myself up. “No, it’s even worse. Take it off,” he changed his mind after seeing me in his clothes.

Carefully, I pulled Jaemin’s boxers down his legs, letting his rock hard cock spring free. Biting on my lips, I grabbed his erection, giving it a few gentle strokes.

“Fuck it, I am ready,” Jaemin yelled, placing his hand over mine, making me stop. “You have all the time in the world to blow me. Right now, I want to feel you,” he added, quickly pulling out a condom from its packaging.

“Let me at least roll it down for you,” I offered, and Jaemin sighed, weighing his options.

“Nah, I am not willing to take that risk,” Jaemin answered, proceeding to wrap his cock by himself. “Now, come here, sit down on it,” he urged, and I shook my head. Smiling like an idiot, I guided his cock towards my entrance, slowly sinking down on his length.

“You’re good?” I asked, trying to guess what was going on inside his brain. Judging by his sour expression, he must’ve been thinking about something terrible in order to stop himself from coming too soon.

“Yes, everything’s cool,” he reassured, and I took it as permission to gently rock my hips back and forth. Whenever I moved, Jaemin kept grunting quietly. Apparently, he also suffered from sexual frustration.

My hands were wandering all over his muscular chest, admiring his athletic built. My hips were moving at a steady rhythm, but whenever I happened to increase the tempo, Jaemin would slow me down with a firm grip on my hips.

“If you keep doing that, I might spank you,” Jaemin warned me, but it only made me want to disobey more. “Why did I even expect you to be a good girl?” Jaemin asked, rolling his eyes.

“Spank me,” I ordered, trying my best not to chuckle. “I dare you,” I added, pushing the right buttons. “Like that,” I moaned when Jaemin’s hand collided against my butt, shaking me with newfound excitement.

“You’re impossible,” Jaemin comment, still in shock after discovering how much into spanking I happened to be.

“I’m impossible not to fall in love with,” I remarked, using Jaemin’s own words against him.

Unable to handle my teasing, Jaemin sat up. “I love you so much,” Jaemin stated once again before he looked at my lips, kissing them. Now, when I was distracted by his tongue, it was easier for him to control my movement.

In our upgraded position, I significantly slowed down. Carefully, I moved up and down Jaemin’s cock, while he sneaked his hand between our entangled bodies, rubbing my clit. I was close, and I was about to come again.

I didn’t know what he was so self-conscious about. No doubt I would come first.

“Jaemin, I am coming,” I breathed out, messing up my rhythm. It was difficult to maintain the same tempo when Jaemin was playing with my clit. Jaemin’s lips moved down my neck, finding a perfect spot on my collarbone to leave a hickey.

“Me, too,” Jaemin whispered as he began thrusting from underneath me, now desperate to push the both of us off the edge. “You’re so tight, fuck,” he cursed as my walls started to swell around his throbbing cock.

Jaemin moaned against my skin, muffling his sinful sounds. I, on the other hand, screamed Jaemin’s name at the top of my voice, telling everybody in the world he was the person, making me feel this good.

Having fallen onto the sheets, we looked into each other’s eyes. We were panting as if we just ran a marathon. Not that I had any doubts, but Jaemin turned out to be a passionate lover, and it made me love him even more.

“You’re beautiful,” Jaemin complimented me, staring at my face in utter admiration. “I am so lucky,” he added, and I moved closer, snuggling up to him. It was still early, but I was so fucked out, I could fall asleep right there in his arms.

Having pulled me closer to his chest, Jaemin threw a duvet over our sweaty bodies. His fingers were tracing shapes on my shoulder when he pressed yet another peck against my temple.

“Are you down for another round?” Jaemin asked as he discarded the full condom. His cock was still semi-hard. In a few minutes, Jaemin would be ready for some more. “It’s cool if you’re not,” he added, trying not to put any pressure on me.

“I want you to do me all night,” I confessed, looking over my shoulder at the clock. It’s only 8 pm, and I could stay up till daylight with Jaemin.

“Do you want to go bowling tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, and I eagerly nodded. It was fun the last time I had joined the boys on their monthly trip to the bowling alley. Besides, I would be the first woman to break the unfortunate one-time-only curse. I couldn’t wait to show up two months in a row.

“I’d love that,” I answered, snuggling closer to Jaemin’s side.

In content, we basked in happiness until Jaemin regained enough energy to go for the third time. However, this time around, it was slow and steamy. Under the covers, Jaemin crawled on top of me, kissing every inch of my body.

“Do you want to roll it down on me? I think I can handle that,” Jaemin asked, and I reached for the condom, carefully rolling it down his length. “I wish I could fuck you without one, though,” he added, and I flicked his forehead, making him whine. “I’ll pull out.”

“I trust you, but it’s still a no from me,” I replied, guiding his cock into my entrance. Inch by inch, Jaemin pushed himself all the way in. “You fill me up so well,” I praised, purring into his ear. “I love your cock.”

Distance between our bodies was practically nonexistent. Jaemin was slowly snapping his hips, rubbing his pelvic bone against my clit, turning me into a moaning mess. I wouldn’t be surprised if my neighbors called the police because of all the noise coming from my bedroom.

“One day, you’ll let me fuck you raw. I’ll make sure you do,” Jaemin carried on, and I hissed, feeling the approaching orgasm. I didn’t even bother to comment on Jaemin’s statement. I was whipped for him. I knew I wasn’t able to maintain my assertive stance for long. Eventually, I’d cave in, letting him fuck me without a condom. It wasn’t today, though.

“In your dreams, lover boy,” I answered, but Jaemin just giggled, knowing I wasn’t serious.

“You have no idea how many times we’ve done it raw in my dreams,” Jaemin confessed as he picked up his pace, pounding into my pussy, making me moan at the sudden speed. “One day, I’ll tell you all about my fantasies, but right now, I really want this pussy to cream around my cock,” he added, his filthy words making my walls squeeze around his length.

“You wait until I tell you mine,” I challenged with a smirk. If Jaemin thought he was the only one with a dirty mind, he was seriously mistaken. While most of my fantasies were PG-13, there was still a large portion of naughty scenarios. Now, when Jaemin and I were finally together, it would be fun to try to recreate at least some of them.

“You better come because I can’t go much longer,” Jaemin warned me, pounding in and out, chasing his own release. “Fuck,” he yelled, falling on top of me as he shot his load into the condom. His cock twitched inside of me as he moved slowly, riding out his orgasm.

“Jaemin,” I hollered, coming undone underneath him. Despite the other peaks, this orgasm hit me the hardest. For a brief second, my vision turned black as I gave in to the pleasure.

Breathlessly, I lay in the sheets, slowly descending from my high.

“I think all I can do tonight is cuddle,” I commented, feeling too fucked out to engage in any other form of affection. “I don’t think I can walk.”

“It’s okay. I can carry you around the house,” Jaemin answered, finding a solution for my problem. Having pulled his limp cock out of me, Jaemin rolled down another condom, putting it aside.

“What is it?” Jaemin asked as he heard a noise from the living room.

“It sounded as if someone was knocking on the doors,” I spoke, trying to identify the sound. “It must be a courier for Jiwoo. She keeps ordering stuff online. It’s probably the late evening delivery she forgot about. Can you get it?”

“No problem, babe,” Jaemin answered as he put on his jeans, walking around the bed to answer the door.

At first, I wanted to wait for Jaemin in bed. However, it’s been like three minutes, and he didn’t come back, so I found it weird.

Having put on Jaemin’s hoodie and a pair of leggings, I made my way out of the room.

Jaemin was standing by the doors, looking inside a plastic bag. Whatever it was, it smelled like Thai food. Unfortunately, it didn’t explain anything. We were here alone, and we didn’t order anything.

Just when I was about to open my mouth and ask Jaemin what the hell was going on, Ten walked out of his room. It was strange, but I saw him leave, and I didn’t hear him come back.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked angrily, trying to hide my embarrassment. If he was here the whole time, he must’ve heard us having sex.

“I live here, duh,” Ten answered matter-of-factly, choosing not to give me the explanation which I desperately needed. “I think it’s mine,” Ten spoke as he walked up to Jaemin to take his Thai takeout.

Although Jaemin and I were standing in the living room in complete consternation, Ten didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. In front of his bedroom, Ten stopped in his tracks, turning his head to face me.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Ten spoke, making me even more embarrassed. “Three times, wow. It’s impressive. Don’t fuck this up, dear. He’s a keeper,” Ten added, sending me a playful wink before he disappeared inside his room.

903 notes · View notes

searidings · 4 years

Note

Kara moving in with her best bud Lena for Reasons (maybe her apartment is temporarily fucked up?) and now Lena has to watch her exercise/weight-lift/do yoga in a sports bra in her apartment

It’s already been a capital D type of Day, full of misogynistic potential investors and minor workplace explosions, when Lena opens her front door to the sight of Kara Danvers in a perfect-form downward facing dog on her living room floor.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she mutters, dropping her keys noisily onto the kitchen counter and making a beeline for the booze cupboard.

“Did you say something?” Kara asks angelically, transitioning smoothly into a cobra that very delightfully and extremely unhelpfully causes her biceps to flex like a Greek goddess. Her eyes, bluer than ever against the vast expanses of smooth golden skin on display above the sinfully tight cerulean sports bra she’s wearing, flutter angelically. She beams beatifically up at Lena from her yoga mat as if there’s any possibility her superhearing didn’t pick up on Lena’s words. As if she isn’t just trying to make Lena repeat herself for her own amusement.

“What are you even doing?” Lena asks a little more sharply than she intends, jaw clenched as she wills herself not to so much as glance in the direction of Kara’s exposed abs. She treats herself to a heavy pour of scotch, pauses to consider, then adds some more. “It’s not like you need to exercise. Like, at all.”

“Surely I get to indulge in whichever recreational activities I choose in my own home,” Kara replies cheerily, avoiding Lena’s carried-home-after-a-shitty-day snark with practiced ease.

“You gave up that privilege when you moved into my home instead,” Lena deadpans, Kara’s irrepressible affability in the face of her own bad moods beginning to chip away at her steely CEO armour. “That’s what you get for letting a flea-infested mongrel into your apartment—”

“Hey, Toto couldn’t help having fleas—”

“And not only that, letting it all over your couch, your bed—”

“He was cold! He just wanted to snuggle—”

Lena shudders. “You snuggled with that monstrous thing? I hope to god you burned the clothes you were wearing. And maybe the whole couch too.”

“Toto was not a thing, he fit perfectly on my—”

“And isn’t Toto usually the name of a small dog?” Lena asks incredulously, throwing back the scotch in one smooth swallow and pouring herself another. “That beast was almost taller than you!”

“Being a lap dog isn’t about size, Lena. It’s a state of mind.”

“A state of mind that’s meant your entire apartment has had to be fumigated. Twice.”

“And I’d do it again,” Kara says resolutely, pushing up into a high plank and inadvertently flexing her shoulders in a way that has Lena’s fingers slipping around the tumbler in her grasp. “Toto was homeless. He needed someone to take him in and love him, and I did.”

She drops to her knees and pushes back into child’s pose, tilting her chin up to gaze at Lena from between her extended arms. “Just like you’ve done with me.”

And Lena curses Kara and every one of her ancestors right back to the dawn of time for how endearing she is in this moment. For how physiologically incapable Lena is of maintaining her façade of annoyance in the face of those earnest eyes. God, when had she gotten so fucking soft?

But any thoughts of the blonde as cute or adorable evaporate into thin air as Kara pushes back up into downward dog, lifting one leg straight above her in a graceful arch. Her forearms flex as long fingers grip into the soft mat and Lena chokes a little on her next sip of scotch, eyes unfortunately, deliciously glued to the jut of Kara’s hipbone through her yoga pants and the toned lines of her tightened thighs.

“Seriously though,” Lena manages, turning away from the sight and congratulating herself on the fact that her voice is only slightly higher than normal. “Why do you even bother? It’s not going to tone you up any. Not that you need it,” she mutters into her scotch glass, tipping out the dregs of the bottle and reaching into the cupboard for a fresh one.

When she turns back to face the living room Kara’s cheeks are flushed, almost as if she’s blushing. Or maybe all the blood is just rushing to her stupid, unfairly attractive head.

“Yoga is about more than just muscle tone, Lena,” the blonde says disapprovingly, her gaze fixed on her mat. “It’s a mind-body connection. Mindfulness. Inner peace. It’s doing wonderful things for my stress levels.”

“It’s doing terrible things for mine,” Lena mutters, knowing Kara will hear her but finding herself increasingly uncaring as the scotch warming her throat begins to course hot through her veins.

“Then maybe you should get down here and join me,” Kara murmurs, voice low as she switches legs.

The blonde’s tone is practically a purr and Lena chokes for real this time, spluttering out the scotch attempting to find its forever home inside her lungs. Kara is behind her in a second, hand hot through the thin material of Lena’s blouse as she rubs gentle circles between her shoulder blades.

The offending appendage doesn’t withdraw, however, even once Lena’s regained full use of her airways and is wiping the tears from her eyes. In fact, it’s joined by a friend, and both of Kara’s hands slip up and over her shoulders quite without Lena’s permission, fingers kneading into the tight muscle.

“Wow, you are tense,” Kara murmurs, thumbs doing something absolutely sinful to the knots in Lena’s neck. The blonde steps closer, bracketing Lena against the cool marble of the kitchen island with her hips and it takes every single shred of self-control Lena possesses not to sag back into the hot body hovering against the length of her own.

Lena shuts her eyes and bites down on her lower lip, hard. Anything to keep from focusing on the warmth radiating off Kara’s oh God partially clothed body like a furnace.

Long dextrous fingers dig delicious into the tense set of Lena’s shoulders and she barely manages to hold back the breathy sounds of pleasure she’s fairly certain she should not be making at her best friend’s touch. Kara, if anything, seems spurred on by Lena’s restraint, fingers slipping inside the collar of Lena’s blouse to press firmly against her bare skin and oh God Lena is not going to survive this.

In fact, she can actively feel herself giving in to the pull, to Kara’s ineffable magnetism. She sways backwards just slightly, and Lena swears she’s not the only one who sucks in a sharp breath when their bodies fully connect. The frame pressed to her back is warm and firm and God, Kara is solid against her in a way that has all the blood in Lena’s body migrating south with pinpoint precision.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” Kara whispers, her breath ghosting the shell of Lena’s ear and making her shiver. “I could walk you through some asanas. Might help loosen you up.”

Jesus fuck.

“Nope!” Lena squeaks, cheeks aflame, pushing away from Kara and snagging the bottle of scotch on the way to her bedroom. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Enjoy your practice.”

The quiet sounds of Kara’s chuckles follow her all the way down the hall.

Lena spends the first five minutes of her shower staring unseeing at the tiled wall, mind blank but for the image of Kara’s washboard abs over the waistband of her yoga pants, the firm press of her body against Lena’s back.

The second five minutes is spent in intense silent conversation with herself, administering an internal pep talk worthy of a high school spirit rally and trying to convince her racing heart to resume its regular rhythm.

The third interval consists of Lena shampooing her hair in mounting despair, trying desperately to foresee a way of surviving the next three days of cohabitation until Kara’s apartment is deemed safe and fume-free if the blonde is going to insist on doing distracting activities and wearing distracting sports bras and just generally being distracting the whole time.

It’s only by minute sixteen of Lena’s long indulgent shower that a plan begins to form in her mind. She steps out onto the bathmat, appraising the various towels slung over the heated rail until she finds one fit for purpose. Tucks it snug round her body and pulls her dripping curls over one shoulder before making her way back out to the living room.

She can pinpoint the exact moment the blonde notices her entrance because the quiet room is suddenly filled with a rubbery tearing sound as Kara, on her hands and knees for a spine stretch, rips the mat beneath her hands clean in two.

Lena bites her lip to hold back a smirk, watching as blue eyes track slowly up the expanse of her bare legs, unimpeded by the towel that only barely reaches to mid-thigh, and then up to follow the droplets of water tracking their way down Lena’s chest until they disappear into the soft fabric.

Kara’s mouth is hanging open, arms and legs splayed wide where they rest on either side of the torn mat, and Lena relishes the thrill of victory that zips up her spine like a firecracker. Two can play at this game, that’s for sure.

“I was going to ask if you were ready to order takeout for dinner,” Lena says, letting her own voice drop low as she quirks an eyebrow. Her gaze falls pointedly to the sad remains of Kara’s yoga mat and this time she can’t hold back her smirk. “But it seems your mind-body connection might still need some work. I’ll leave you to it.”

Satisfied, she turns on her heel and saunters back to the bedroom, Kara’s eyes glued to her swinging hips like a physical weight on her body.

Cheeks pink, heart pounding, she drops onto her bedspread as a heady combination of relief and pleasure courses through her veins. Lena hasn’t had a roommate since boarding school but maybe this cohabitation – temporary as it may be – will end up having a few unanticipated perks.

#incredible how much you can write when you're procrastinating the stuff you're actually supposed to be writing #no idea where this came from but thanks anon and that supercorp spin class gif set for setting me onto thinking thoughts that ended up here #anyways--#sc #minific #asks #anonymous #dings dot txt

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tekstelart · 3 years

Text

Tuesdays at Lizzie’s

“Keep moving and I'll fuck you right here on that table like that dirty little whore you are,” She could practically feel the rumbling of his growl against her back. “And I don't give a fuck about everyone watching.”

Ship: Mateo Thiago/Artemis Valin Rating: Explicit Contains: Public sex, Dirty Talk, Minor humiliation kink Word count: 4.2k Ao3 Thank you @viktorsvector for the portuguese translations ♥

Impatient tapping of nicely manicured fingernails on the bar counter, an exasperated sigh and the drumming of the bass revibrating through her body while she was waiting for her drink. It was a busy night, all the more to her surprise that her company was off work. Though she was beginning to question just how much of a perk that was if the time it took for her to get a drink was any indication. Another sigh. Then there was a hand on her hip. Except this one clearly lacked his cybernetic fingers.

What the hell? When she spinned around to confront whoever had the absolute audacity she was met with the smug grin of a man she had never seen before. He wasn't bad on the eye by any means but his expression told her enough about what kind of company he'd provide. Pillow princess. She didn't waste a single second waiting for his opening line, instead she slapped his hand away with a scoff and turned around again. “Playing hard to get huh? I like that” He wasn't even worth a reply and karma seemed to have mercy because the bartender finally brought over her drink.

Glass in hand Artemis passed the dude, not even offering him a side glance, like he was a little insect fortunate enough to even breathe the same air as her.

Let's be real, he actually was.

Not like that seemed to stop his bold and overconfident self, no, he actually dared to follow her as she made her way through the crowd, headed for someone else waiting for her in one of the clear corner booths. “Aww come on, don't be so shy.” His voice was barely audible over the music for which Artemis was glad. Only when she was approaching Mateo in the booth did the other man seem to stop in his tracks, eyes still fixed on the wicked curves of her body though.

Mateos attention immediately locked on that sultry smirk on Artemis' lips, before he could speak however, she was straddling his lap already. One hand still holding her drink, the other wandering along his neck and into his hair, grip tightening, tilting his head to the side slightly and when Mateo felt her lips on the skin of his neck he could not help the hiss leaving his lips. His hands instinctively grabbing her rear and pulling her closer into him, an act that was rewarded by a drawn out roll of her hips.

It was only when his dark eyes found the stranger still staring at the woman in his lap like a starved animal, that Mateo realized what had happened. A smirk on his lips. His left hand was moving up her side in an instant, caressing the exposed skin which in return sent delicious gosebumps across Artemis' skin. A soft moan escaped her onto his skin at the faint grazing of his fingers along the side of her breast. The touch was brief in nature as his intention was something different, hand continuing to move up to her shoulder, then along her arm until he reached the hand that was holding her drink. With a quick motion he took the glass from her and placed it on the table behind her while her free hand now rested on his chest, exposed by the button up he was wearing.

Mateo only indulged in her ministrations a few more moments before roughly fisting her hair with his left hand, pulling her mouth off his skin and forcing her head back enough to look at him. A quick devious smirk was all he gave her before his face closed the distance and lips crashed into hers, tongue immediately demanding access, which she granted without so much a moment of hesitation. His right hand moved from her rear to her thigh, resting barely below the hem of that absolutely sinful red dress she was wearing.

It really was no surprise that she got hit on quite frequently, something that did not really fill him with jealousy but more with a sense of pride. Pride about being the one with a grip in her hair, tongue dancing with hers and hand now pushing up the fabric of the dress enough to graze the sensitive skin on the inside of Artemis' thigh with his thumb. Pride about the moan he forced from her when his thumb came to a halt so short of her aching core. Oh and most certainly pride at the raging jealousy written on the mans face when Mateo had spotted him moments ago.

Artemis was his alone and after that conversation they had at the party the other day, there was absolutely no way he was going to let go of her. She'd spent half her life building this wall, had not dared to let anyone in and protected her heart with everything she had. Had made sure that nobody so much as touched her in the wrong way, took control in every aspect of her life. But here she was, in his lap, completely yielding herself, her body, to him. Even as they were surrounded by strangers, some of them obviously peering, she didn't pull away when his lips left her mouth to kiss a trail down her throat and between her breasts. The hand he had tangled in her red locks now moving to cup a breast before slipping aside the fabric of her dress enough to run his tongue over her now exposed nipple, toying with the sensitive bud before closing his lips around it.

Hot. She felt way too hot. His touch, his lips, his tongue.. It was all too much and not enough at all. Yet what fueled her desire most at that moment, was the fact that there was no wall hiding them, no curtain or seperate room. The walls of the booth were see-through and while they were in a corner booth, not in plain sight of everyone, they could still be seen if anyone bothered looking. The only remote protection from prying eyes was the table that covered the lower half of their bodies. But they would still see the large tattoo decorating Artemis' back, bared by the low cut of her dress, her head thrown back and mouth hanging open in a silent plea. They would see Mateos hands on her body and they would see the way Artemis was grinding her hips into his lap.

What they would not see, however, was the sharp bite Mateo gave her nipple when her grinding grew bolder or how his hand gripped her thigh harder. How his mouth left her chest to nibble a path back up her neck, biting the junction between her neck and shouler roughly while he moved her dress back into place to cover her chest. And they most certainly would not see his lips close to her ear, hot breath tickling her way too sensitve skin and a sound akin to a growl leaving his throat at a particulary delicious roll of her hips. “Turn around.”

Anyone else and she would have laughed at the sheer nerve to order her around, likely even left them. But this was not anyone. This was the man who had been gradually slipping past every single defense she had built up. No, not slipping, that would imply that it was forced entry. Nothing he ever did was forced, no hovering, no pressure to open up and despite how roughly he tended to treat her in bed, if she was truly uncomfortable she knew he would stop immediately, wouldn't push it, would never in his wildest dreams ask her to do anything that she was not fully on board with.

She came to care about him, way more than she anticipated or even felt comfortable with. No this wasn't how she planned this when they landed in bed after that night at the club on Eve's birthday. She thought it'd be a nice fuck and they each move on with their lives but things rarely go according to plan evidently. Instead, she was here, skin burning under his touch, feeling the eyes of strangers on her body, her movements and despite that she felt save.

The stinging sensation of Mateos bite behind her ear pulled her out of her thoughts and she was apruptly aware of the tight grip he had on her hips again.

“Safada Vadia, don't make me repeat myself.”

With a quick motion she had shifted her postion enough so she was no longer straddling him, turning around instead, pressing her back into his chest. In return he shifted just enough to get them both more comfortable in the corner junction of the bench they were sitting on. Hungry lips promptly at Artemis' neck, her hair once again in a tight grip, keeping her head tilted to the side for easier access. “Good girl.”

Her breath hitched in her throat when Mateos right hand found her thigh again, fingers wasting no time to resume their performance from before, slipping under the red textile that suddenly wrapped her body way too tightly. Only this time he did not stop. This time he ran his fingers along the damp fabric covering her heat in time with a long drape of his tongue up the back of her neck.

Another shift of her hips had her rear brush him just right and she could feel his sharp hiss on the skin of her neck. She smirkerd. And she repeated the motion. A strangled and surprised yelp left her lips when she felt his teeth sink into the skin just above her spine. Hard.

Biting down her bottom lip, it was all she could do to ground herself with the way Mateo expertly played her body. The way his lips and tongue worked her neck perfectly, his fingers now pushing the lacy fabric of her underwear aside but not applying much pressure where she needed it quite yet. It was an agonizing combinatin really, his mouth, teeth, relentless and brutal kissing one spot and biting down the next all while his touch on her soaking wet core was no more than a faint caress of his fingers. She was melting into his ministrations and the whimpers she tried so desperately to swallow? Frankly, they were pathetic.

Attemping to regain any sense of control over the situation she repeated her earlier motion, grinding along his length without so much an ounce of restraint.

What happened next was a blur of several motions at once.

A stinging pain in her scalp when he tightened his grip in her hair, a low moan that escaped her lips when he finally pushed those tortuous fingers past her drenched folds, curling them up inside her almost immediately. And his voice... His voice was nothing but a deep snarl against her skin, setting her every nerve aflame in a way that nobody else ever could. Yeah, this man owned her, body and soul.

“I wont warn you again, doll. Behave.”

Artemis swallowed thickly, her back arching into him as much as his grip in her locks allowed her. Public. They were still in public, Artemis tried to remind herself, repeated it in her mind like a broken record. Anything to not lose herself right here, with his fingers buried inside her throbbing cunt, in front of all those people. But where she expected to find the slimmest hint of humiliation, raw desire mixed with desperation for more more more. Her arms searching for any kind of purchase, all she could do was hold onto him in any way possible.

“Look at them, bet they'd do anything to be ones getting to feel how fucking wet and desperate you are.”

His lips were so close to her ears that she could feel his unsteady breath tickling her skin.

“You know why they can't?” A kiss on that soft spot right behind her ear, a shudder racing through her body and she didn't even attempt to stifle the gasp when his fingers found that one spot inside her that had her mind go blank.

“Voce e minha. Because you're mine.”

Those words alone almost undid her. Not just because of the way they made her clench down on his fingers hard, but because of the way her heart was threatening to burst right out her chest. It wasn't just a declaration of his claim on her body, no, it was a final confirmation of their discussion at the party and he was right. She was his. Had been for a long time too stubborn and maybe even afraid to admit it. The thought spreading under her skin, filling her up so wholly that every touch, every kiss, every flick of his fingers inside her, became so overwhelming that she was left barely caring about how worked up she must look to the others.

Her nerves were on fire, every sense vividly aware of his closeness, the whole club could have been staring at them right then and she still wouldn't have found it in her to care. It might aswell just have been the two of them. Not that it was just her though, to say he wasn't in a similar state of sheer hunger would've been a straight up lie. Despite Artemis no longer torturing him with the grinding of her hips, he was still fiercly clinging to any ounce of self control he had to not go through with his threats, he knew if she wanted him to bend her over this table she would not have stopped moving. Besides, he had other plans.

It was only when his grip left her hair and his hips shifted just enough for him to reach for his belt that Artemis stiffened in his lap. Much to his amusement.

“What's the matter coração?”

“What... are you doing?” Well... That was a pitiful. Her voice so weak and uncharacteristic for her and she hated how it only made him chuckle into the nape of her neck.

“Just getting comfortable, don't worry.”

Even if she wanted to object, another brush of his fingers against that sweet spot inside her had her head falling back into Mateos shoulder with a whine. Her stomach going taut as a bow, she was getting so so so close, coil about to snap and she would have stumbled over that edge when she felt his groan vibrate through her body, if he hadn't stopped moving his fingers entirely. Calling the sob that left her frustrated was an understatement and she suddenly was all too aware of the shallow breathing next to her ear, the low growls that shot straight down to her core. Then his fingers picked up where they left of, moving inside her with precise intent. What actually caught her attention despite her body tensing up in the approaching climax again, was the feeling of his left shoulder, flexing in an almost steady, albeit frantic, rhythm. Comfortable huh.

“Fuck!”

A bite into her should and he withdrew his hand from it's spot between her legs, momentarily resting it on her thigh, his other arm had stilled behind her aswell and for a second his labored breathing was everything she felt. Suddenly Artemis was all too aware of the eyes on her and she was no longer certain if the shivers it sent down her spine were due to the thrill of being watched, humiliation... or simply the second time she had just been denied an orgasm. Then there was a low chuckle and a trail of soft, too soft, kisses from her shoulder up her neck until Mateos lips reached her earlobe, which he nibbled for a moment before resuming his kisses, his breathing still heavy.

“Do you trust me?”

His voice was a whisper and she felt her blood freeze at the question.

Did she?

Despite what she had done all her life to keep people at bay, how she'd avoided close bonds, she still came to grow feelings for this man. She had let him in. Let him. Had let him get close, had opened herself up just enough to show him a glimpse of who she was beneath that thick layer of ice and he had decided to stay. Decided that he still wanted her, all of her. Only one person had gotten this close to her before and he'd died for doing so. Yet the closer she grew to the man who held her firmly in his lap now, the more she stopped blaming herself for what happened. She had allowed herself to be vulnerable again, just a fraction but it had been enough to show Mateo all he needed to see, all he needed to know. And when she realized how quickly the answer to his question came to her, she also realized that she did not have a single doubt in her about it's truth.

“Yes.”

That was all he seemed to need because suddenly she felt his right hand on her waist, pushing up her dress further while shifting her in his lap until she felt the head of his cock prod at her entrance. His lips never left her neck throughout his maneuvering, showering her in kisses and soft nibbles. If she had been tense before, it was nothing compared to the anxiety she felt at that point. Feeling him rock hard, sliding along her folds while both of them were visible to the club patrons. She was immensely thankful for the table in front of them, successfully blocking the view of anything past her stomach. He continued the slow rolls of his hips for a moment longer, running his hands up her arms, left one stopping at her shoulder. With his right hand he gently lifted her chin and tilted her head enough for her to look at him. When their eyes locked it was as if time suddenly came to a halt and Artemis found herself unable to look anywhere but at him. His expression was clouded with lust and it was then that she realized just how much he was holding himself back. For her sake. How could he even doubt for a single second that she trusted him? Soft lips brushing hers faintly.

“Relax...”

His face was so close to hers, foreheads touching and his breathing was so heavy that all she wanted were his lips on hers again.

“You remember the safeword?”

A nod. That was all she could muster with his gaze locked on her, his thumb running over her bottom lip and his other hand settling on her hip to hold her in place.

“Good.”

His hand let go of her chin, instead he wrapped that arm around her stomach, hand now settling just below her breast. Then a push of his hips, the abrupt stretch forcing her head to fall back into his shoulder and he took the opportunity to move the hand that had been on her hip, pushing her down onto him, moments ago, up to.... cover her eyes?

“Vou meter em voce ate voce gritar meu nom.”

His voice was so raspy that her translator actually failed to pick up what he just muttered into her ear, not that it mattered with his cock now full sheathed inside her. No second was wasted and he started moving, he only gave a few slow shallow thrusts before he picked up his pace and set a brutal rhythm.

With her vision blocked she was left with nothing but the pure bliss from being so full of him, the slamming of his hips into her and his tip hitting that perfect spot with every thrust. Her mouth now hanging open, no longer able to conceal the sounds he was driving out of her the only relief provided by the loud music drowning out her voice. It was only then she realized why he was blocking her vision, only then she realized that he did it because he knew she did not want to see them gawking at her. It's not that it bothered her that they most certainly had at least a small audience, her lower regions were hidden after all and Mateo did have the thoughtfulness to move her dress back into place before telling her to turn around earlier – another thing she realized, done for her comfort – still a tinge of humiliation at her compromised position had her body more rigid than mere seconds ago.

“Relax. Focus on me”

His tone was strained but still, it was soothing against the inferno he set on her skin, her muscles loosening ever so slightly.

“That's it. Let them watch, just focus on me, coração”

The sensation of his lips on her skin was almost too much but not enough at the same time, she was burning alive in his hold and another whine left her parted lips.

“Focus on my voice...”

A nibble on her hearlobe, a strong thrust and fingers now slipping below the fabric of her dress again to toy with a nipple.

“My touch...”

Her body grew rigid again, not because of fear or embarassment but because of how he was undoing her with his words, his voice alone.

“My cock buried inside you.”

A pinch of his fingers on her nipple had her whimper his name, which in return lured out another delicious groan from his mouth. His pace now picking up. He was getting close and after being denied twice Artemis was aswell. She bit down her lower lip hard to stop another moan from slipping, her heart thrumming frantically in her chest and she all but heard her pulse racing through her veins. Despite his hand blocking her vision she felt filthy in a way she hadn't experienced before and god if it wasn't adding even more gasoline to the already uncontrollable flames burning her inside and out. Mateos arm tightened around her body, abandoning it's task on her chest instead just pulling her as close to him as he can. Artemis could feel his lips move and she was thinly aware of the curses leaving him, too faint for her translator to pick up anything and quite frankly she didn't care, not with his hips forcefully bucking into her and his moans vibrating on her skin. The coil in her stomach tightening, about to snap. She was so close, just a bit moremoremore.

“Fuck...please”

He didn't think she'd ever fully understand what that word from her lips did to him. To have this woman who would usually take charge of any situation, surrender herself to him, let alone beg for him. It took every last drop of self control he had left to not finish at the sound of it alone. Instead he pressed his lips into her neck again. Oh how he would love to make her beg some more, have her sing his name and scream for the whole club to hear. But with his release so close he instead released his tight grip on her, his hand finding that sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs in an instant.

A few strokes was all she could take before her entire body went taut against him and she turned her head into his neck, biting down hard to stifle the scream that ripped from her throat as the coil snapped. Her orgasm crashing through her with a force that had her clawing at his legs, the leather of the bench, his arms, anything she could, Mateos hand now moving from her face to wrap around her throat, pressing down hard and holding her in place while she rode out the waves of her climax. And at the clenching of her cunt around him he followed with a deep growl, bucking his hips a few more times, before halting buried deep inside her, his own release spilling inside her.

Chests heaving with their panting, both of them remained still while coming down from their high. Artemis refused to move her head or open her eyes, even when she felt Mateo slip out of her, shifting to push her clothes back into place before tucking himself away with one hand. The other one still held her close to him, reassurance that he was there, that she was save. Only when both of ther clothes were presentable again did he pull her off his lap onto the bench next to him, her legs draped across his thighs. His lips found hers in a long and sensual kiss, hands refusing to let go of her, one arm draped around her shoulder the other one resting on her thigh, holding her legs close to him.

Lost in the kiss Artemis reached for the hand hanging off her shoulder, entwining their fingers, no more reservations about her affection for him.

“Let's get out of here.”

A smile played on his lips and his voice was husky. His eyes though? Oh they were full of dark dark promises.

This night was far from over.

#cyberpunk2077 #cp2077 #Mateo Thiago #Mateo x v #Mateo Thiago x v #Mateo/Artemis #Artemis Valin #my writing #nsft #THIS IS VERY CONSENSUAL LET ME JUST SAY THIS #OTP: Dancing with a Stranger

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Yellow - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: No just me being self indulgent.

A/N: I started writing this the other day because I had an anxiety attack. I based a lot of the reader on my own weird stuff so...it was a little tough to get through but honestly kind of cathartic too?

Summary: During an anxiety attack at a party JJ calms you down and from there a relationship begins to form between the two of you. Autistic reader.

Warning: Descriptions of an anxiety attack and mentions of mental illness.

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

You sat on the side of the house, stiff as a board, breathing so rapidly you thought you were going to send yourself into an asthmatic attack. No, that was nuts, you weren’t asthmatic you were just having a panic attack. But you couldn’t catch your breath and your head felt like you were 25 feet in the air but trapped on the ground at the same time. Your heart was beating in flutters, hands shaking, you were aware that you were crying but you didn’t know how. You couldn’t feel the tears, but your eyes stung and your vision was blurry, were you wearing your glasses? You couldn’t see anything.

You heard someone’s voice, tinny, like they were calling to you through a tunnel, were they far away. Something touched your arm and you flinched, pressing yourself further into the side of the house. Where were you.

They kept talking, voice a distant memory but it was happening right now, in slow motion in front of your face, someone’s mouth was moving.

“Call my mom.” You managed, voice much less clear than it sounded in your ears. It was hoarse and your words mixed with sobs as you anchored yourself into the grass with your fingers.

Whoever was there took your backpack, rummaging through the pockets until they found your phone. “Passcode?” They asked, holding it up to show you the lock screen.

The glow of the phone bounced off of every surface and you leaned forward, choking back the sudden urge to throw up. Whoever they were placed a hand on your back, just below your neck. Not too much pressure, it was gentle but it was there and you felt yourself following the motion of their hand running circles in your mind.

“Alright, okay, your safe. Your safe.” Was all they offered, unsure really, what else they could possibly say in this situation.

Your fingers stopped digging into the earth slowly, the tension leaving them first. They ached. Next your shoulders, still crying but no longer sobbing, you could hear your heart beat but it sounded like a heart beat again. Not drums banging in your ears or thunder breaking in the sky. Your shoulders sagged beneath the weight of their hand and you felt them grasp your arms, guiding you into a more comfortable position. They sat behind you, arms wrapping around your body while you leaned into them, your whole weight using them to stabilize you.

When it was over, when the attack on your entire being subsided and your brain could function once more you would be embarrassed, you would practically send yourself into another panic attack trying to apologise. Your body was too tired to comply with your brain right now though. Everything felt heavy, like you were anchored down to the earth. And you felt lips pressed against your temple making you close your eyes as the person holding you placed a kiss against your cold skin.

“You’re safe,” they promised. When you tried to move they shushed you, hand brushing sweaty hair from your forehead. “It’s okay, you don’t have to move.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, more because you didn’t think you could move even though you wanted to. You wanted to get up and run away, hopefully never see whoever was holding you in their arms. Tan arms, plenty of bracelets, a few rings. You leaned your head against their arm, warm skin soothing yours.

“It’s okay.”

You’d fallen asleep there on the side of someone’s house in a stranger’s arms, exhausted from an episode. You had woken up with the sun, careful as you removed yourself from the other person. You didn’t need him to wake up or try to ask you if you were okay or if you needed anything or try to pretend that you hadn’t totally ruined the party for him. You were certain that calming some random girl down was not on the top of his priority list for the night before. Taking your phone and your bag, you walked home.

For two days after that you hung around the house. It was too many people all at once and you were still exhausted as you tried to regulate yourself. You couldn’t stay in forever though, according to your parents, and you left the house on Thursday for therapy. You omitted the tragic end of the party, embarrassed that you hadn’t tried any coping techniques when you felt yourself starting to panic, instead you’d just kept going until it was too much and you were tripping out on the side of the house. Not the best summer story you could think of. Your two days inside hadn’t been totally unproductive.

When you’d been sitting there in his arms, silently naming all the colors in his bracelets as he held you and promised you were safe, you’d thought about making a new bracelet for him. Two days later you considered the fact that he would probably be happy to never see you again but you’d made him a bracelet anyway, varying shades of yellow woven together. It sat in the front pocket of your back pack just in case you saw him somewhere on the island and he didn’t immediately hide from you.

It was after therapy, as you walked home that you saw him. A little coincidental for your taste but there he was, standing with a friend on the other side of the street. They were talking and you decided today wasn’t a good day. Two days was not enough time to compartmentalize everything that had happened and seem totally well adjusted. Could you blame the freak out on drugs? Was that plausible? Probably not. He’d definitely think you were weird if you gave him the bracelet. There was no way that was happening now.

“Hey!” His voice carried across the street. Louder than he’d been two nights ago. “Hey.”

You kept walking, hoping maybe he’d seen someone else that he knew. But then he was appearing in front of you, forcing you to stop walking or collide with him. “Oh, uh, hi.” You twisted the front of your striped shirt in your hands, looking at him and then just passed. Deep breathes, you could do this. You were good at talking to people, everyone said so.

“Hey,” he repeated, “I was looking for you the other day, you like, disappeared.”

“I had to get home.” Was he concerned or was he just saying that to be nice? No, he’d crossed the street to talk to you so it must have been concern. Or curiosity.

“Are you alright?”

“Right now?”

“Right now. The other night.” He shrugged, “I’m JJ.”

“I’m okay, sorry for the other night.”

“Bad trip?” Maybe drugs weren’t so farfetched.

You nodded. He invited you to hang out with him and his friend, Pope, and you accepted because wouldn’t that be a nice story to tell your therapist next Thursday. She loved when you talked to new people. You got dinner with them while the bracelet you’d made him burned a hole in your bag. Another time, now was too soon.

When you went home that night you made another one just to calm your nerves.

He invited you out the next day and the next and you had trouble saying no because you liked him but he was exhausting. His friends seemed to be all personality, each demanding attention at exactly the same moment and you knew there was so much you missed when you hung out with all of them together, so many little pieces that you couldn’t concentrate on at the same time. They liked to do a million different things in one day. And they especially liked going on the boat.

You hated the boat. Really what you hated was the water. It was deep and you could tread but you weren’t a great swimmer and you’d imagined your death by drowning enough times that every time you got in the water you were convinced it was the last. The anxiety of it ate at you. On boat days you went home earlier than usual with an upset stomach and you laid in your closet for hours trying to cocoon yourself into some kind of comfortable state.

They always swam when they went out on the boat and you always promised you’d go in but never did. You held onto the same beer all afternoon but only drank half. You laughed when someone else laughed at a joke and you took at least one hit from JJ’s blunt just so it seemed like you smoked since he thought that you did.

It was exhausting. And every time he asked you thought about saying no. But you never did. It’d be one thing if he texted you but he usually showed up at your house, as if he knew you couldn’t say no to him in person.

Today you brought your backpack on the boat with you. Your therapist suggested bringing something that could calm you when you felt yourself getting anxious. You brought your box of thread to make friendship bracelets. The entire front pocket of your backpack was filled with ones you’d already made with JJ in mind.

“What are you doing?” JJ asked, halfway through the afternoon, as you sat in the boat. Everyone else had been paying attention to something Kiara was saying but JJ’s always loud voice caught their attention.

“Oh, I’m making a bracelet.” You offered, keeping your eyes on the thread that you had attached to a carabiner on your water bottle.

JJ moved over next to you on the bench, leaning his chin against your shoulder as he looked down at the bracelet. “Make me one?”

“What?” You turned your head, shifting away a little so you could see his face. He was so close you wondered if he could see the imperfections on your skin.

“Will you make me a bracelet?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah...I uh, what color?” You asked, thinking of all the ones you already had for him in your bag.

“You choose.” He moved his head, but only so that he could watch you better.

You started up again, having to fix two different knots as JJ sat there, almost touching you but not completely. You could feel his breath on your skin, and his body was so close you could feel the warmth of him. “You’re very close to me.” You pointed out.

JJ looked at you, brow furrowed in confusion. “You want me to move?”

No. But you were two seconds from dropping the water bottle. You could already feel the tingling in your fingers. They would shake next and the tingling feeling would move up your arms. Some one jumped in the water and the splash made you jump, water bottle rolling out of your hands. JJ got up, grabbing the bottle and handing it back to you.

“You alright?”

“Fine.” You wanted to ask how much longer they were planning on being out but you didn’t want anyone to feel like they had to turn around on your account. You could make it the rest of the boat trip. Deep breaths. You searched for colors and shapes that you could silently name, running over and over them until you felt yourself starting to calm down enough to resume your bracelet making.

When JJ texted you the next morning about hanging out at John B’s house you said you were sick. New friends were exhausting. You needed a break that lasted longer than a night.

You ignored your phone for the next few days, falling back into your usual routine. Your mom tried to coax you into a movie day or shopping but you’d spent too much time around people to want to spend even more time around them. A crowded shopping trip or a stuffy theater?

You settled on watching the movies in your room and listening to quiet music. You were on your third day of ignoring your phone when JJ traded texting you for seeing you in person. He wasn’t entirely sure what he had done but he was determined to get to the bottom of it. When he got to your house, he found you outside on the hammock reading.

“Hey,” JJ sat on the hammock without warning, rocking it just enough you to grip the edge. His feet stayed on the ground, steadying it. “I’ve been trying to text you.”

“Sorry, I haven’t been feeling well.” You lied. Was he upset? Maybe, he didn’t look upset though. He looked fairly unphased but you knew how hard he was to read; it took all your attention sometimes.

“You wanna go on the boat today?”

“I don’t know if I’m up for hanging out with everyone.” That was too much pressure.

“It can just be us.”

“Okay.” You agreed, surprised that he wanted to spend time with just you.

The boat with just JJ was still a boat and your irrational fear of the water still existed though with less people you didn’t imagine dying by capsized boat as an option. Though maybe it could still capsize. Another, larger boat could hit it and you’d sink. JJ steered, watching you as he took the HMS Pogue out in the marsh. You weren’t watching the water. He’d taken girls out before and they always watched the water or used the front of the boat to sunbathe while they talked endlessly. You were staring at your lap, twisting your striped shirt in your hands.

“You don’t wear any of your bracelets?” JJ asked, realizing for the first time that your wrists were bare.

“I make them for other people.” You replied, crossing your arms so he couldn’t see your wrists anymore.

“Did you make mine yet?”

“Oh, yeah. Can I move when it’s moving?” You asked, he’d stopped driving but the boat was shifting in the wind.

“It’s not.”

“A little bit.”

“It’s just the wind.” He shrugged, grabbing a beer from the cooler and offering you one.

You were careful still, holding the side when you stood up. You grabbed your backpack and opened the front pocket, rummaging through until you found the bracelet you were looking for. Yellow. You held it out to him, exchanging the bracelet for a beer. JJ turned it over in his fingers, looking at the pattern and the different shades of yellow in it.

“I didn’t expect it to be so...one color.”

“I can make you a different one, if you don’t like that.” You offered. You found the bench again, happy to be sitting.

“No, I like it.” JJ insisted. He sat beside you, holding out the bracelet with his hand overturned, “can you tie it on for me?”

“Sure.” You pushed his other bracelets up to wrap it around his wrist, fingers brushing against his skin.

“Will you teach me how to make these?” He asked.

“Sure, why?”

JJ shrugged, “I could make you one?”

“Okay.” You smiled.

“Why yellow?”

“Yellow usually calms me down when I’m having a bad time,” you admitted, “since you calmed me down during my freak out I though yellow was a good color for you.”

“That was some trip you were on.”

“Hey JJ?” You started, crossing your arms to keep from pulling at your shirt. You had thought about telling him that it wasn’t just a trip, trying to decide what sort of reaction he might have. It’d always been you with him and friends never just the two of you together. You liked him, not just because he had held you through an episode but because he was him. Magnetic. Incredible. Calming.

“Yeah?” he shifted in his seat so he could look at you better, close like always but this time it didn’t make you so nervous.

You uncrossed your arms, twisting your hands together and looking down at your lap. The explanation came in waves. You stumbled over words trying to tell him that you hadn’t been tripping over weed but that it was just a part of your brain. While you talked JJ stayed quiet, his hands reaching for yours and threading his fingers with yours. He listened while you told him that you hated the boat because you were always afraid that you were going to drown. He didn’t tell you that was irrational or that you were crazy he just listened.

You finished, waiting for him to say something to you but he just sat there, “So?”

“I don’t...know that much about like, stuff like that.” JJ admitted.

“Neither do I,” you laughed, “I just know living with it.”

“Should we go back?” He asked. He moved his hands so he could hold yours better, thumbs rubbing along the insides of your wrists.

“I kinda wanna go in the water.” You replied, looking over your shoulder at the calm water. You always thought about going in the water when you came out with everyone but somehow going in with everyone made you more anxious than being on the boat in the first place.

“Okay, lets go in.” JJ said, standing up and pulling his shirt over his head.

“You go first,” you replied, taking your shirt and shorts off. JJ wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, kissing your forehead.

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @calumhoodsbuckethat @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @jolomez @timotaychalabae @ssprayberrythings

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pines-troz · 3 years

Text

Weekend With The Warners Chapter Six - Animaniacs & Pinky and The Brain

Summary: When the CEO assigns Pinky and The Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids.

Word Count: 10,710

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/71433888

Pinky honored Brain’s request by resuming the planned family activities to occupy Yakko and Wakko. The mouse rode upon Wakko’s red cap as they neared the movie theater. His light blue eyes lit up the moment he saw the movie titles on the marquee along with the various movie posters displayed across the side of the building.

Everyone loved going to the movies! What could be a better way to spend an afternoon than to sit in a dark room with other strangers, munching on expensive snacks, and getting emotionally invested in a movie for two hours? He was especially looking forward to watching a movie about the Furbies! Pinky hoped that this family friendly-animated movie featuring the controversial 90s toys would follow the same beats as other recent animated movies from the past decade: A buddy road-trip journey with a surprise villain twist in the third act (which always shocked him every time!), and all the characters throwing a big dance party at the end to the tune of a contemporary pop song. Pinky would always get up on his feet and dance with the characters on the screen. While Brain would always shield his face at the sight of his enthusiasm, he had a strong feeling that Yakko and Wakko would be more than happy to dance with him before the credits rolled.

Oh, he and the siblings were going to have such a fun-fun silly-willy time!

Wakko carried Pinky on top of their red hat, zooming around the front of the theater like an airplane. With their tongue lolled out, he blew a raspberry to imitate the sound of a plane soaring through the air. He was eager to go to the movies with Yakko and Dad. Even though it would have been better if Dot and Dadoo accompanied them, Wakko learned from their wisened experiences as a middle child that he couldn’t get what he always wanted and had to accept compromise. But he was willing to make the most out of the afternoon for Dot’s sake. Looking on the bright side of things, the middle child was eager to lounge in the comfy leather reclinable chair while chowing down on the various snacks. Buttered popcorn, cheesy nachos, hot dogs, candies, and a large cup of Abyss Boy soda! But he’ll remember not to consume the entire soda all at once. The last thing he wanted was to have another potty emergency on their hands. Regardless, Wakko couldn’t wait to satisfy their appetite for movie theater food!

Yakko cautiously trailed behind Wakko and Pinky, masking his worry with a small smile. The normally laid-back smart aleck was glum over Dot’s health. Of course, part of being a responsible older brother was being the main caregiver for his siblings’ needs. And Yakko took pride in tending to Wakko and Dots’ needs, especially if they felt under the weather. The eldest Warner couldn’t shake off the bewildering fact that Dot was being cared for by a good friend, who successfully proved himself to be a competent caretaker, while he and Wakko walked about as if nothing happened. If his sister wasn’t so insistent on going to the movies for her sake, then he would be back at the hotel room tending to her needs like the caring sibling he was. But as a responsible older brother, Yakko kept his word. But going to the movies just wouldn’t be the same without her. He missed having his nacho buddy right by his side.

The eldest Warner was pulled out of his thoughts the moment he felt his phone vibrate. He fished his phone from his pocket and he noticed the reassuring text message from Brain.

I commend your concern for your younger sister. Dot is taking a much-needed nap at the moment and she will be okay. : )

Yakko softly smiled at the good news. He was thankful for the mouse’s swift response as well as the contents of the message. “Dot’s fine under Brain’s care…” He reminded himself. He looked over at Wakko and Pinky, who seemed to make the most of their situation as they conversed in their typical eager fashion, almost as if nothing had gone wrong.

“I’m gonna buy so many snacks!” Wakko exclaimed, flapping their arms excitedly.

“Troz! And I’ll get to swim in the bucket of popcorn!” Pinky added with an equal amount of enthusiasm.

Yakko tried to conceal his concern with a small smile and a chuckle. “Yeah, it’s gonna be fun!” He lied with convincing enthusiasm.

However, Pinky managed to catch a glimpse of sadness behind the Warner Brother’s eyes. His big goofy smile faltered. The idea that Yakko was trying to hide something that was hurting him made Pinky’s tummy feel all tight, but not in a good way. But Pinky was determined to alleviate the teen’s woes.

“Is something wrong, Yakko?” The tall mouse asked concernedly.

Yakko gave a surprised expression before shrugging it off. “Oh, it’s nothing,” The teen replied, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Pinky pondered for a moment. He took his paw and rubbed the bottom of his chin as he thought, but snapped his fingers as he figured it out. “Well, I don’t know how to get rid of the nothing that’s bothering you, but I’m sure that the movie might take your mind off of it. Narf!” He explained optimistically.

Yakko looked at the mouse who took his problems quite literally and shook his head.

“No no no,” The oldest Warner dismissed while waving his arms. He looked back at Pinky, who cocked his head sideways and stared back at him with concern pooling from his blue eyes. There was something in the mouse’s eyes that compelled Yakko to tell the truth. “Well, it’s just that it feels wrong to go to the movies without Dot, ya know?” He confessed.

Pinky and Wakko gazed concernedly at Yakko, who continued to speak up. “I mean, who else am I gonna share my tray of nachos with?”

Wakko wordlessly raised their hand, but Yakko stared at them with skeptical eyes and crossed his arms. “Wakko, you’ll just consume the entire tray.” He interjected with a deadpan expression.

“Yeah, you’re probably right...” Wakko glumly admitted as he lowered their hand.

“And I don’t feel like I should be watching a movie when I should be back at the hotel taking care of my little sis.” The eldest Warner mentioned.

Pinky’s eyes widened. “So that's what Yakko was worried about!” He pondered to himself. Even though Dot’s absence was sorely felt by the three of them, it wasn’t the end of the world because Brain was currently tending to her every need. The lanky mouse knew how to comfort Yakko.

“We all miss Dot, but you don’t have to worry because Brain’s taking great care of her!” Pinky reminded him with a reassuring smile. “And I would know since he always takes great care of me!”

“He does?” Wakko asked curiously, tilting his head like an adorable puppy.

“Of course! Brain always makes me thimbles of nice hot tea whenever I get sick and patches me up whenever I get the owies after a failed plan to take over the world! Zort!” The mouse confidently explained. “And if Brain can take great care of me, he’ll take great care of Dot!”

Wakko believed in Pinky’s word. While he felt bad for Dot, he knew that their sister was in good hands. The middle child turned to face their older brother. “See, Dot’s gonna be fine!” He emphasized. “And besides, she commanded you to have fun just before we left the hotel room!”

“Yeah, I know…” Yakko muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

“Don’t you trust Brain?” Pinky softly inquired.

Yakko was surprised by the mouse’s question. “Of course I do! I wasn’t implying that I didn’t. It’s just…” The eldest Warner stared at Pinky, whose blue eyes seemed to pierce his very soul, prompting him to demolish the barriers he built around his emotions. “Well, it’s really hard to ignore my big brother instincts, ya know?” He finally confessed. “Not to mention how weird it is to have someone else do my job.”

Wakko walked over to their older brother and gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. “But Pinky and The Brain have been taking care of us all weekend! They take us out for food, tell us bedtime stories, and give us goodnight kisses,” He reminded their older brother, with Pinky silently nodding. “They’re our dads, remember?”

“Dads?” Yakko quizzically repeated with a surprised look on his face.

Wakko’s face contorted into a worrisome frown. He thought that Yakko would already be on board with the mice becoming their parents, but apparently, that was not the case. “Well yeah.

Didn’t you hear me say ‘goodnight mouse dads’ last night?”

“No, he was fast asleep when you said that,” Pinky told the middle child.

Yakko stared at his sibling with a befuddled expression. In any other circumstance, Wakko would only use the words like ‘dad’ or ‘dadoo’ when he was messing with their special friend of the week. But there was an undeniable sincerity in Wakko’s voice when he referred to the mice as their parents. And considering how well the rodents have been taking care of them, the thought of them being parents was a nice idea. Pinky would always dote on him and his siblings and be incredibly supportive of them. Plus having constant praise and validation from the silly mouse is exactly what Yakko needed to combat his anxiety and self-worth issues. And despite his grumpiness and stern nature, Brain proved to be an excellent caretaker. The big-headed mouse was incredibly protective of him and his siblings and even humored them by indulging in their childish requests. Both mice were a pleasure to be around and they were decent guardians who looked out for them and deeply cared about them. They seemed like the perfect parents to have.

But Yakko felt his big brother instincts and anxiety nagging at him. He was taking good care of his sibs for decades without any intervention from any adults from the outside world. He was the sole caretaker of his siblings when the human adults at the Warner Bros. Studio thought they were too dangerous to be allowed in society and locked them away in the water tower like dogs at the pound. Even though Yakko admittedly believed that he could have benefitted from positive adult figures during those years in captivity, he managed to pull it off on his own. Taking care of his sibs was one of the things he was great at!

Now that Wakko adopted Pinky and Brain as their dads, Yakko feared that the mice would usurp his role as caretaker and would be rendered useless. What kind of big brother would he be if his role of nurturing provider, the one job he took the most pride in, was taken from him?

“Come on Wakko, don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just start referring to our friends as our parents.” Yakko scoffed as he circled his right hand in the air.

But Wakko took offense to their brother’s statement. “What’s his deal?” He thought as he gritted their teeth and flashed their fangs.

Wakko felt their eyes start to water as he curled their hands into fists and stomped on the ground. “Is that any way to talk to your dad!” Wakko shouted, gesturing towards Pinky.

Yakko was taken aback when he saw the tears forming in the corners of Wakko’s eyes. He didn’t mean to hurt their feelings. “Wakko-”

But before he could say anything else, Pinky interceded when he hopped down from Wakko’s hat and stood between the siblings. “Stop the fighting, please!” He pleaded with his watery blue eyes. “My heart breaks at the sight of sibling rivalries!”

Yakko looked at the buck-toothed mouse, overwhelmed with guilt. They were supposed to be having a fun time at the movies on Dot’s behalf, but the only things he accomplished were quarreling with Wakko and making Pinky cry. “Well, this is just great,”

The eldest Warner released a heavy sigh, shoved his hands in his pocket, and walked away from his sibling and mousey guardian. He slumped onto the bench and placed his head in his hands. Taking deep breaths, he dwelled over the scuffle. Sure he would eventually patch things up with Wakko, but he thought about Pinky. That poor innocent bundle of joy who loved almost everyone and everything in this world. And he made the little guy cry his little heart out. Yakko assumed that it would take a while longer for the mouse to forgive him after what he did.

“Poit!” Pinky softly spoke up. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Yakko lifted his head to find Pinky sitting on Wakko’s red hat. The two looked at him with worried expressions on their faces. Perhaps now was the time to set things right.

Yakko thought about what he wanted to say, took a deep breath, and exhaled. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings, fellas.” He ruefully apologized. He took a moment to gather his courage before confessing one of his biggest fears. “It’s just that...well, I’m used to taking care of my sibs.”

Wakko wordlessly nodded in understanding. He remembered all the times Yakko took great strides to make sure he and Dot were provided for when they were stuck in the water tower and afterward. Making them meals, entertaining them with his jokes, schooling them with his educational songs, and telling stories before bedtime. Wakko knew that Yakko took a lot of pride in his role as the responsible eldest sibling.

Yakko looked at his sibling and the tall mouse as he continued to speak. “And while I trust Brain to watch over Dot, I never had anyone else take care of her in my place before. And I can’t help but feel so…” He struggled to get the word out from his throat, but managed to let out a defeated sigh.

“useless…”

Wakko stared at their brother with somber eyes. He could relate to feeling left out. Especially since his U.S. Capital's Song or The Great Wakkorotti didn’t stack up against Yakko’s Nations of the World or Dot’s Poetry Corner. The last thing he wanted was for their older brother to feel the same way.

“Now that’s just not true,” He thought determinedly. Yakko was many things: funny, talkative, boisterous, clever, sometimes annoying, charismatic, and musically-inclined. But never in all of his years did Wakko describe their older brother as useless. Far from it! Yakko simply needed to be reminded of how important he was.

Wakko sprinted over to Yakko and catapulted himself onto the bench. With open arms, he gave their brother the biggest hug possible. Yakko felt his eyes start to water as he was immersed in his sibling’s warm and affectionate embrace.

“You’re not useless, big brother,” The middle child assured as he gently rubbed their right hand up and down their brother’s back. “You’re one of the best people I know!”

Yakko blinked away the tears as he heard his sibling’s adamant praise.

“And besides, who else can come up with catchy songs about the universe or multiplication?” Wakko added with a playful smile.

Yakko let out a hearty chuckle. Touched by Wakko’s sincerity, he wrapped his arms around his sibling, pulling them close. “Aw, thanks baby sib.”

“Anytime, bro,” Wakko replied, giving him a couple of pats on the back.

Pinky was still perched on Wakko’s hat, watching the loving moment play out through tearful eyes. Their reconciliation played out just like those Hallmark Movie Channel films where the leads made up after their third-act breakup and gave each other warm hugs. But instead of conventionally attractive white couples, it was two toon siblings who fiercely loved in that strong familial way, which was a hundred times better! Oh, how he loved seeing family members make amends!

When the siblings slowly released themselves from the hug, Pinky hopped down and went over to Yakko’s knee to let him know just how special he was. “Feeling better, love?” The mouse kindly inquired while gently patting his knee.

Yakko looked at Pinky, who was comforting him like a parent soothing their child. The eldest Warner focused on the mouse’s soft blue eyes. There was not a single trace of malice or anger to be found. Only pure, unconditional love radiated from those eyes.

After spending decades locked away in the water tower and ignored by the workers in the studio lot, all Yakko ever wanted was attention. He craved any type of reaction from other people, whether it be good or bad. He could make people laugh or irritate them past their limits. Just as long as he received some sort of response, he was content. But as Yakko continued to stare into Pinky’s gentle eyes, he was reminded that the best type of attention was love. Not the romantic type or the adoration from viewers, but familial love. Yakko forged a strong brotherly affection for Wakko and Dot, who equally loved their big bro. Perhaps, he was willing to allow Pinky, and even Brain, to love him and his siblings like the good parents they set themselves up to be.

“Yeah, I’m feeling better now,” He assured the mouse. But there was something else nagging at him that he wanted to address. “But there’s something I gotta ask you, Pinky. Do you see yourself as our dad?”

Pinky did not hesitate to answer. “I do, but I could be your mum if that makes you more comfortable!”

Yakko softly chuckled. “I really appreciate you looking out for us, but I need some time to really think about this.”

Pinky gave the teen a gentle smile as he patted his knee once more. “Poit! That’s alright, take all the time that you need.”

With a sigh of relief, Yakko was grateful that Pinky didn’t try to rush things through and respected his feelings. If the rest of the weekend went by this smoothly, maybe he would have no issue with referring to the mice as his new dads.

Wakko looked at the two and decided to change the subject. “You know what, I don’t feel like going to the movies either.”

Yakko was surprised by what he just heard. “You don’t?”

“Sure! If you don’t wanna go to the movies, then neither do I.” He affirmed.

“Are you sure?” Yakko asked. He didn’t want to make Wakko feel like he had to make a sacrifice for his sake.

Wakko gave a confident nod. “We can always go to the movies some other time.” He insisted. “And as a middle child, I’m used to making compromises.”

The eldest Warner was relieved by his sibling’s astute answer and playfully ruffled their red cap. But with the movies now crossed off their planned schedule, he was uncertain of what he, Wakko, and Pinky should do to pass the time. “Now the only question left is what ways could we have fun outside of the hotel room?” Yakko pondered aloud. He brought himself into a thinking pose, propping his elbow onto his arm which was draped across his lap, and scratching his chin. Wakko sat down next to their brother and immediately copied his pose.

Pinky pondered as well. Deep in his thoughts, he looked at Yakko and Wakko, who fused into a rocket ship and opened up the ship’s hatch. Pinky immediately hopped inside to find Yakko and Wakko dressed in Star Trek uniforms. The lanky mouse looked down to find himself wearing a fetching red dress uniform from the original series. Yakko pressed a red button and they blasted off the bench and zoomed through the city skyline. Inside the ship, Pinky noticed a big sack full of toys and goodies. The ship crashed through a window, landing in the hotel room. Dot was dressed in an elegant nightgown and a purple fluffy boa draped over her shoulders while Brain, who now had long blonde hair, was dressed in a buttoned-down white satin shirt and black leather pants. The chubby mouse bit on a red rose as he read his book on world history. Dot and Brain were shocked by the sight of the rocket ship. The hatch opened, and the giant bag was pushed through the door and landed in the middle of the room. Yakko, Wakko, and Pinky emerged from the spacecraft and opened up the sack full of goodies. The Warners played with the various toys and games while Brain seductively winked at Pinky and tossed the rose. Pinky managed to catch it with his tail and blushed at his partner’s romantic gesture. Brain immediately wrapped his arm around Pinky’s waist and pulled him in for a sweeping kiss.

Pinky sighed as he was brought back to the real world. He had the most splendid idea and he couldn’t wait to share it with the Warners.

“Who says that we could only have fun outside?” The lanky mouse asked.

Wakko gave the mouse an incredulous look. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could bring all the fun inside the hotel room instead!” Pinky exclaimed.

Yakko and Wakko thought this through and grinned at the suggestion of bringing the fun back to the hotel room and including Dot and Brain in their activities. After all, she only wanted Yakko and Wakko to have fun but didn’t specify where they could have fun.

“That’s brilliant Pinky!” Yakko complimented. “Maybe we could do some fun arts and crafts projects!”

“Or play board games! And buy lots of snacks!” Wakko eagerly added.

“Or purple: all of the above!” Pinky cheered.

The three of them bounced off of the bench, excited to bring some much-needed fun to Dot and Brain. Pinky tugged at Wakko’s sweater sleeve, prompting the middle child to place the mouse back on top of their cap.

“We could go to the mall and purchase some supplies for today’s activities!” Pinky explained as he pulled out the gold credit card from his pocket.

“Well let’s hop to it!” Yakko declared. He broke off into a sprint, with Wakko running on all fours to keep up with their brother’s pace. Pinky laughed joyfully as he held onto the middle child’s red hat.

- - - - -

Back in the hotel room, Brain was silently reading Heidi while Dot was fast asleep in the other bed. The smaller mouse took another glimpse at the snoozing Warner sister. He had to admit that she was quite adorable. Hopefully, the girl would be on the mend by the time she woke up.

The small mouse let out a blissful sigh. After dealing with the hectic antics of the boisterous Warner siblings, it was nice to have a moment of peace and quiet. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to develop a brilliant plan for world domination!

Brain closed his book and quickly retrieved his journal and pens from his pocket. He was determined to devise a fool-proof scheme just in case his previously crafted giant robot plan backfired. Now the question was what could he do? Cradling the pen in his hands, he began to ponder the many ways he could ascend to power.

Create a mind-control app? Start a pop culture-themed podcast and send out subliminal messages during the ad-breaks? Start a TikTok trend that encourages participants to obey him? Blackmail Elon Musk? Promote an enticing convention and swindle money from con attendees? Stage an elaborate heist in the Mar-a-Lago Club? Build a drone to harass the politicians in Washington D.C.?

Oh, the possibilities were endless!

But his ears twitched upwards when he heard the door open. Pinky, Yakko, and Wakko returned to the hotel room, each carrying multiple bulk plastic bags filled with who knows what. As the three entered, Brain immediately shushed them, placing his index finger close to his mouth. Once he got their attention, he gestured towards Dot.

“Right-o!” Pinky whispered, giving his partner a thumbs up. Yakko and Wakko immediately did what they were told and tip-toed quietly into the room.

Yakko looked over at his sister, slept serenely in bed. He was quick to notice her chest rising and falling with each breath she took. Overcome with relief, the eldest Warner smiled. Dot was okay.

He looked over at Brain, who was putting away his novel and felt a pang of guilt for doubting him.

“Hey Brain,” Yakko addressed the big-headed mouse. “Thanks for watching over Dot.”

Brain smiled at the Warner brother. “You’re welcome.” He said. “And judging from your text, it’s quite obvious how lucky she is to have older siblings who love her dearly.”

Yakko smiled back, feeling touched by the praise. Wakko carefully patted his back.

“Hi, Dadoo!” Wakko happily greeted Brain.

The smaller mouse tilted his head in confusion at first. But then he remembered Wakko referring to him and Pinky as their dads last night and assumed that dadoo was just a unique term of endearment. “Greetings Wakko.” Brain replied with a small wave. “So how was the movie?”

“Oh, we didn’t go to the movies,” Wakko answered.

“You didn’t?” Brain inquired. “Then where pray tell, did you three go?”

“We just came back from the mall,” Pinky reported. “Yakko and Wakko came up with these fun ideas of activities we could do instead, so we all decided to have a fun-fun, silly-willy day in the hotel room!”

“We figured that we’ll take it easy for today,” Yakko said.

Yakko and Wakko took out some of the contents from the bags, such as materials for arts and crafts, Jenga, Connect Four, and Chutes and Ladders. Pinky also took out a few items from the bag.

Pinky brought a few packages for Brain. “Here, I bought these just for you. Troz!”

Brain opened up the bag to find over a dozen packages of doll clothes. The mouse marveled at various suit jackets, coats, sweaters, pants, and royal outfits Pinky purchased for him. His beau remembered his fashion preferences and he couldn’t help but smile.

“I remembered what you said about making as many extrapolate purchases as possible. So that’s what I did!” The taller mouse explained.

Brain was so flattered by Pinky’s memory that he didn’t even bother to correct his poor vocabulary. “Why Pinky, I’m touched by this kind gesture.” He said graciously.

“Aww Brain,” Pinky cooed.

“I’m going to get started on my next graphic novel!” Wakko declared as he took out one of their library books from the book bag.

Yakko also retrieved his book on European architecture from the bag and sat cross-legged on the ground. He took one of the bags and dumped out its contents. Packages of popsicle sticks and various bottles of glue sprawled across the floor. The teen opened up the package and carefully took out the popsicle sticks and began assembling his latest crafts project.

Brain couldn’t help but notice the eldest Warner’s determined look as he began gluing the popsicle sticks in a large circle while using his library book as a reference. The mouse was fascinated by this development and walked over to the teen. “So, uh what are you up to?” The pudgy mouse politely asked.

“Oh, I’m building a popsicle stick model of The Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris.” Yakko casually explained. “I read about it in my library book on European architecture.”

“Ah, le Sacré-Coeur de Montmartre.” Brain blissfully sighed. The mouse was impressed with the oldest Warner’s excitement for recreating the iconic church. “Would you like any assistance?”

“Sure!” Yakko answered enthusiastically.

The mouse was pleased with the thought of being included in a wholesome crafts project. Brain took out a few popsicle sticks and collaborated with the Warner brother in companionable silence.

As they built their model cathedral constructed from popsicle sticks, Yakko continued to muse over the idea of the mice becoming new additions to their little family. Pinky constantly doting on them, showering them with praise and gifts.

Brain, on the other hand, was a grump who could be stern at times but was ultimately a softie who had their best interests in mind. Yakko loved to tease the serious mouse whenever he had the opportunity, but he also loved to share his educational pursuits with him, knowing that the intellectual would appreciate it.

He also took Pinky and Brain’s short stature into consideration. Since they were small mice, Yakko and his sibs could cause as much chaos as possible and they would have some challenges keeping up with their silly antics.

There was a lot of untapped potential in allowing the rodents into their everyday lives, and Yakko couldn’t help but ponder the possibilities.

But the teen lost his train of thought when he heard a soft mumbling from the bed. Wakko, Pinky, and Brain also stopped what they were doing and turned their attention towards Dot, who roused from her sleep. Stretching her arms, the Warner sister fluttered her eyes and slowly got up into a sitting position on the bed.

Yakko was the first to notice his sister getting up and smiled. “Great to have you back, Lazarus.” He joked. Dot couldn’t help but snicker at her brother’s quip. Yakko decided to ask a more serious question. “You feeling better sis?”

“Yeah.” She answered. “How long was I asleep?”

“About a couple of weeks, give or take,” Pinky answered with a shrug.

“Pinky!” Brain berated his partner. He then turned his attention to the girl. “You’ve been asleep for a couple of hours.”

Dot nodded as she carefully adjusted to a sitting position on the bed. “Thanks for helping me, Brain.”

The smaller mouse smiled humbly. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh Dot, I’ve got you something from the store!” Pinky crowed. He sprinted towards one of the bags and took out a plastic box containing a family of Calico Critters. Lifting the package over his head, he raced to the girl’s bedside.

Dot’s eyes twinkled as she eagerly took the package. She inspected the small bunny family dressed in their finest countryside attire. While Dot prided herself on being an intelligent young woman, she didn’t have it in her to hide away her interests in soft toys and plushies.

“Oh thank you Pinky! You’re the best!” She exclaimed as she scooped Pinky up and nuzzled her cheek against his face.

The smaller mouse laughed and let out a “Troz!” as he was smothered with affection.

Wakko contentedly sighed as he closed the graphic novel. The middle child got up to place the book back into the book bag. “I should get back to work on my latest artistic masterpiece!” He declared as he rummaged through their pocket. But the drawing wasn’t there.

He rushed over to the book bag and dumped out all the books, hoping that their drawing would fly out. Only a dozen books plummeted onto the floor. Wakko scrambled through the library books in search of their precious illustration but to no avail.

Yakko and Brain paused their popsicle stick construction when they noticed a distressed Wakko desperately looking for something important.

“What’s wrong, Wakko?” Yakko asked concernedly.

“My drawing!” Wakko warbled as tears started pouring down their cheeks. “I must have left it back at the library!”

Brain got up and carefully approached the worried Warner sibling. “Now now, it’s not the end of the world, Wakko. You can make another drawing here.” He soothed. Providing words of comfort wasn’t one of his strong suits, but he was trying his best.

“But it’s very important to me!” The middle child trembled as the waterfall of tears continued to fall.

Brain felt something stirring deep inside him. Seeing Wakko reduced to tears over his missing illustration brought up the painful memory of Pinky sobbing uncontrollably when he forgot to send his letter to Santa. The mouse learned not to brush aside Pinky’s own wants as trivial and he would not do the same for the middle Warner sibling.

With his tiny pink paws, Brain gently patted the child’s foot. “Dry your tears Wakko, we’ll retrieve your picture from the library before closing time.”

“You will?” Wakko grinned at the mouse despite the tears that streaked their face. Brain replied with a confident nod.

The smaller mouse retrieved his smartphone from his pocket and tapped his Google app. He typed the name of the library in the search bar and hit the magnifying glass button. He immediately found the results and looked over at the library information on the right-hand side, searching for the weekend hours of availability. The library closes at 5:00 PM. He looked over at the time on the top left-hand corner of the phone. It was now 4:45 PM.

Brain looked over at Wakko with sheer determination. “Come along, Wakko. We’ll make it to the library faster if we take my human suit.”

The chubby mouse sprinted over towards his robot, swiftly climbed up the suit, and hopped inside the driver’s seat. Yanking the control levers, he swiftly grabbed Wakko and made their way out of the hotel room. The mouse ran over to the elevator and saw the doors about to close. Brain managed to place his foot on the divider, stopping the doors from closing. Once he got inside, Brain pressed the rooftop button.

“But aren’t we going to the library?” Wakko asked worriedly.

“We are Wakko, we won’t be walking or taking a cab.” Brain answered with fierce determination.

“But I will promise you that we will arrive at the library before closing time.” He guaranteed.

Once the elevator doors opened, Brain began to sprint towards the center of the rooftop patio. “Hold on to your hat!” He commanded, and the middle child firmly guarded their red cap with one hand.

Pressing the red button in the controls, Brain ignited the jet-powered boosters on his shoes and he took off from the rooftop and ascended above the hotel. Brain carefully steered the controls as he flew across the city skyline, careful to keep Wakko secure in his arms.

Wakko kept a strong grip over their hat as their eyes wandered down to the ground. He looked over to The Brain, who kept a determined stare as he searched for the public library. Wakko stuck out their tongue and let out an enthusiastic cheer.

“Wooooo!!!” Wakko joyfully shouted. Many onlookers in the city streets turned their attention to the strange robotic suit carrying the eager toon. Not the most unusual thing spotted in Los Angeles on a Saturday afternoon.

Brain spotted the library gardens and swiftly descended towards his destination. Jerking the controls, Brain landed near the library entrance in a superhero pose. Wakko released himself from Brain’s hold and ran into the library.

Upon remembering the no-running policy, Wakko sped-walked over to the children’s section. Once he burst through the entrance of the kid-friendly area, Wakko picked up the pace. He spotted the drawing tables but was sullen to find them bare, save for the box of colored pencils.

“Oh no!” Wakko gasped. Someone must have stolen his artwork! While he didn’t have the same detective skills as Hercule Yakko, he was determined to get to the bottom of this!

“Can I help you?” A kind voice asked. Wakko turned around to find the nice librarian he met this morning. Maybe she can help him solve the case!

“Excuse me Miss Librarian, I left my important drawing on the table earlier, and now it’s gone!” Wakko nervously explained while rocking on their heels in anticipation.

The librarian sympathetically looked at the child before remembering. “Oh, that’s because I saved it!”

“Really!?” Wakko exclaimed.

“Yep,” The librarian confirmed as she opened up the drawer and took out the illustration. “Normally we recycle any pictures that are left behind, but I thought that this picture was too good to be tossed out. Plus I figured that you and your family would have come back for it anyway.”

The librarian gave the picture back to Wakko, who quickly retrieved it. The middle child gazed at the drawing with tears of joy.

“Reunited and it feels so good!” He cheered while clutching the picture to their chest. “Thank you very much, Miss Librarian!”

“Your welcome.” The librarian kindly replied.

Wakko waved at her as he made their bouncy exit from the children’s section. By the time he exited the children’s section, he found Brain awkwardly waiting by the circulation desk.

“Found it!” He proclaimed as he showed the mouse the back of the picture.

“That’s wonderful.” Brain sighed in relief. “May I see your illustration?”

“I’m not finished with my drawing yet. But I promise I’ll show you when it’s done.” Wakko said as he stuffed the picture in their shirt. “Scout’s honor!”

“Very well. Let’s make our way back to the hotel.” Brain said as he held Wakko’s hand. Once the two made their way out of the library, Wakko tugged at the robotic arm hard enough to gain Brain’s attention.

“Hey Dadoo, can we fly again?” Wakko eagerly asked, bouncing up and down.

“I would prefer if we walked.” Brain answered hesitantly.

“Awww,” Wakko groaned in defeat.

“Come now, walking has its benefits.” Brain reassured the middle child, but they still looked down at the sidewalk, kicking a stone pebble out of frustration. The mouse furrowed his brow as he pondered. Certainly, the best way to please Wakko was to please their appetite.

Brain gently squeezed Wakko’s hand, causing the Warner sibling to look up at the big-headed mouse. “I know of a wonderful designer donut shop where we can pick up two boxes of confectioneries to share with the others.”

Wakko’s eyes widened with joy, eager to visit his favorite donut shop once again. “Yay!” The middle child chirped before leaping into Brain’s arms. The mouse was caught unaware by Wakko’s sudden gesture of love but welcomed it nonetheless.

- - - - -

Back at the hotel room, Yakko, Dot, and Pinky were playing an intense game of Jenga. Pinky inspected the unsteady tower, searching for the perfect block to remove. The mouse found a loose piece. He yanked it out in one swift motion, but the tower soon collapsed on him.

Dot put a hand over her mouth as she saw the poor mouse toppled by the Jenga blocks. Yakko couldn’t help but laugh at the tower’s sudden destruction, but the Warner sister swiftly elbowed him.

Fortunately, Pinky popped out of the pile with a hearty laugh. “Oh, that was so much fun! Narf!”

“Let’s play another round!” Yakko declared as he gathered a handful of Jenga blocks. He began to assemble the tower when the door clicked open. He, Dot and Pinky turned their heads to see Brain entering the room, carrying Wakko in one arm (whose face was covered with strawberry frosting and rainbow sprinkles) and two boxes of donuts in the other.

“Hi fellas!” Wakko greeted with a wave.

“Hey, Wakko!” Dot called back. The middle child was relieved to know that their little sister looked much healthier and seemed to be on the mend.

“Did you find your drawing?” Yakko asked his sibling. “Yup!” Wakko cheered as he jumped out of Brain’s grasp and onto the floor. “And we also found donuts!” He swiftly took the two boxes and opened one of them, showcasing eleven donuts.

Pinky trotted over to the box and gazed at the many different flavors. “I’ve never seen so many donuts like this in my life!”

“Oh, they’re the best!” Wakko exclaimed as he was about to list off the various donuts. “There’s brie, white cheddar, chicken noodle soup, buffalo chicken, seafood salad, avocado, macaroon, bacon, ranch dressing, and macaroni and cheese!”

“Ooh, so many choices! Zort!” Pinky exclaimed. “But I’ll have the macaroni and cheese donut please!” Wakko happily handed the donut over to Pinky who eagerly accepted the unusual treat.

Brain retrieved a handful of napkins from his suit pocket and offered them to the group. “Now let’s save the hotel cleaning staff the trouble and avoid making a colossal mess.”

“Okay Brain!” Pinky replied as he took a napkin. Yakko, Wakko, and Dot quickly grabbed some napkins from the robotic hand before grabbing their donuts of choice.

The chubby mouse placed the last two napkins on his bed before exiting the robotic suit. After landing on the mattress, he walked over to the box of donuts to inspect the bizarre donut flavors.

Before Wakko could eat his second donut, he noticed Brain having a difficult time selecting which flavor to indulge himself with. The middle child remembered how Brain offered his french fries the other night and decided to return the favor. He looked at their donut and split it in half.

“Here Dadoo, have some of my mashed potatoes with butter and gravy donut!” Wakko eagerly offered.

“That’s awfully kind of you Wakko, but I’m all set.” Brain declined. “I think I’ll have the brie donut instead.”

“Okay, suit yourself!” Wakko concluded. He threw the two halves of his donut in the air and caught them in their mouth. Wakko hummed contentedly as he felt the mashed potato, butter, and gravy melt in their mouth before swallowing.

“So Brain, what’s the dinner situation like?” Dot inquired as she cautiously took a small bit from her donut, careful about not upsetting her stomach again.

Brain pondered for a moment. Dot’s sudden illness threw a wrench in his plans to take the kids out to a fancy restaurant, throwing away another chance at having an elegant dining experience over the weekend while he could pay for it. But Brain was never one to dwell in defeat. He couldn’t change what he can’t control, but he could always adapt.

“Is anyone in the mood for room service?” Brain asked the group.

“Now we’re talking!” Yakko exclaimed.

The mouse hopped over to the nightstand and took out the pamphlet regarding the hotel’s room service. After everyone informed him of what they wanted, Brain picked up the telephone, punched in the numbers, and requested a lengthy dinner order: meatloaf and side vegetables for Yakko, roast beef and chicken for Wako, chicken noodle soup and caesar salad for Dot, garlic jumbo prawns and filet mignon for himself and a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes and pudding snacks for Pinky.

A half-hour later, their dinners arrived. The Warners sat down on the floor as they consumed their respective meals. Pinky dove into the potato as if it was a swimming pool. Brain was satisfied with his meal, thankful that the steamed carrots that came with his prawns were served al dente.

After dinner, The Warners plopped back onto the bed rather exhausted after a long day. Dot took the remote control and turned on the television. She searched through the hotel’s selected movies in search of something decent to sit through.

“The Sandlot was a bit of a let down in my opinion, so I’m gonna pick out tonight’s movie.” Dot drawled as she scanned through the various movie titles.

After a minute of scrolling past some bland-looking movies, she came across an unusual-looking movie poster. A picture of Brain wearing a brown toupee standing in a dramatic pose with his eyes closed beneath the bold text of the title: A Beautiful Brain.

Wakko and Dot ‘oohed’ and ‘awed’ at the screen. Yakko initially let out an amused snort but then he read that the movie was nominated for several Academy Awards, including Best Picture. A movie that was directed by and starred Brain somehow was in the running for Best Picture?

The Warners were wildly curious about the fact that Brain of all people was involved in such a prestigious movie.

“Okay, I have so many questions right now!” Yakko declared. “Were there no good movies out the year you made that movie?”

“What made you want to direct?” Dot asked with genuine intrigue.

“Can we watch this movie please?” Wakko begged.

Brain waved his hands in the air. “Now, calm down.” He ordered with an indignant frown. “To answer your inquiries, yes I acted, directed, and produced this piece of critically acclaimed Oscar bait, and, as you children would suspect, it was all part of an elaborate plan to take over the world.”

“By winning the hearts of critics and audiences everywhere?” Dot spoke up.

“Unfortunately, that wasn’t the main objective of my plan.”

“So what’s it about?” Wakko asked curiously with their tongue bouncing about.

“A Beautiful Brain follows the story of a once-promising gifted student who grows up to be a weary and cynical college professor who learns that his value in life extends beyond what he could provide with his superior intellect.” Brain explained.

“Oh, it’s such an emotional rush! I laughed, I cried, picked my nose when no one was looking!” Pinky eagerly added. “And it could have won Best Picture too, if it hadn’t been for…” The mouse’s smile contorted into a rueful frown as he remembered his blunder during his mission to secure Brain’s place as Best Picture winner so he could take over the world on Oscar night. “Me...”

Pinky tucked his legs in, wrapped his arms around his knees, and lowered his head on top of his kneecaps. Brain gave a sympathetic sigh and gently rubbed his partner’s back. “But all is well, dear Pinky.”

“What happened?” Yakko inquired.

“I was supposed to rig the ceremony by putting in Brain’s envelope in the winners’ pile, but I accidentally put in my no-bake cheesecake recipe in the envelope by mistake!” Pinky sadly recalled.

“And had I been announced the winner, I would have used my immobilization ray to kidnap the entire audience of Hollywood elites and force them to do my bidding.” Brain finished as he continued to caress Pinky’s back in a soothing manner. “But it’s best not to dwell on past failures.” The pudgy mouse reminded his partner.

“Can we still watch the movie?” Wakko asked anxiously.

The smaller mouse cringed at the question. Truthfully, he had not revisited the movie since it premiered in select theaters, and since they recounted their failed plan to the kids, he was not in the mood to watch his critically acclaimed vanity project.

“No, you kids wouldn’t enjoy it.” Brain insisted. “It’s a dreadfully long movie with too many conversational scenes and not enough action to keep your attention.”

“You’re right, that doesn’t sound very captivating at all,” Yakko remarked.

“Yes,” Brain said dryly, brushing aside the eldest Warner’s quip. “In all honesty, the movie makes The English Patient look like Mad Max: Fury Road.”

“Wait a minute, they made another of those movies?” Dot asked. Yakko and Wakko were equally surprised by this revelation. Apparently, they glossed over the most recent Mad Max movie in their Reboot It song.

“You haven’t seen Mad Max: Fury Road !?” Pinky and Brain shouted simultaneously. The Warners wordlessly shook their heads in unison. The mice looked at each other and knew that this needed to be remedied.

“Oh, it’s only one of the best movies in the history of history!” Pinky explained. “There are so many cars that go zoom-zoom-zoomie! Zort! And there’s a lot of emotional moments that make you feel all soft and gooshy!”

“Fury Road is a cinematic masterpiece that works on so many levels!” Brain added. “Brilliant action set-pieces, a major focus on visual storytelling with biting commentary on the brutality of war, and a magnificent exploration of feminism.”

“Feminism in my action movie!?” Dot gushed, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Sign me up!”

“Alright, let’s see if we can find this movie anywhere,” Yakko said as he scrolled through the various movie titles until he found a colorful movie poster featuring a woman with a shaved head and a man in the front seat of a car.

“Oooh, so pretty,” Wakko awed. As he read the descriptor he noticed one huge obstacle. “Aw man, the movie is rated R...”

Brain hummed in response. “It appears that this movie is deemed inappropriate for children…” He drawled as he gazed at the Warners’ defeated expressions. But he laughed in response. “But we’re cool guardians, right Pinky?”

“Amen to that!” Pinky cheerfully responded.

“And if we’re going off by the date you were originally conceived in the Warner Brothers Animation Department, all three of you are technically over the age of seventeen and needn’t worry about this sort of issue.” Brain stated confidently.

Yakko and Wakko bounced up and down the bed in elation, linking their arms and doing a do-si-do. Dot went over and hugged the mice. “Yes! I can’t believe you two are gonna let us watch the adult action movie!”

“It would be a crime not to show this movie to you kids,” Brain chuckled.

“Yes! Best dads ever!” She declared as she hugged them close, their cheeks squishing together. Pinky savored the affection while Brain was stunned by the sudden gesture. Once they broke away, Dot carefully cradled the mice in her hands.

“But mark my words, I will watch your Oscar contender at some point, old man!” Dot added.

“Yes, yes, certainly.” Brain waved his hand in dismissal. “But for now, let us indulge in this beautifully crafted piece of action cinema.”

Dot gently carried the mice in her hands as she brought them over to the other bed. Yakko and Wakko landed on the bed and got into their movie-watching positions.

During the movie, Brain was surprised to learn that the Warners remained relatively still when watching the movie. Although Wakko did get up from time to time to act out the thrilling action scenes.

Brain was so invested in the movie that it took him a few minutes to realize that something soft and warm had wrapped around his broken, zig-zagged tail. He looked down to see Pinky’s tail intertwined with his. A gesture normally reserved for moments of intimate cuddling after a failed scheme to take over the world or a particularly grueling day of experiments at the lab. Regardless, Brain smiled at Pinky’s affectionate gesture.

The pudgy mouse looked over at the Warners and his partner before releasing a contented sigh. Even though they weren’t able to go to the movie theater together, they still managed to watch a movie from the comfort of the hotel room.

Once the credits rolled, the Warners applauded as Brain turned off the television set. Brain tried to get up but felt a sharp pain in his rear when he tried to move. He looked over at Pinky and noticed that their tails were still tangled together.

The color of Brain’s cheeks and tail tinted to a light shade of pink. “Pinky!” He alerted his partner, gesturing to their tails.

The taller mouse looked over at their tails and blushed at the sight of their intimate display. “Oh, sorry Brain,” Pinky replied with a sheepish smile. He slowly unraveled his tail, careful not to hurt his partner, and liberated his appendage.

Brain was ready to give a reprimanding speech to Pinky about showcasing such lewd activity in front of the children but was alerted when he felt a gloved finger gently patting his large head. The mouse turned to see the Warner sister batting her eyes and endearing him to her cuteness.

“Hey Brain, can you and Pinky tell us a story?” Dot asked. Wakko nodded enthusiastically with their tongue bouncing about.

“We would be delighted to, wouldn’t we Pinky?” Brain answered as he slyly glanced at his partner.

Pinky eagerly rushed over to his beau’s side, pulling him into a side hug. “We should tell the story of Rapunzel- no! We should act out the story of Rapunzel, Brain! With costumes and sets!” He suggested. The Warners were excited at the idea of the mice putting on a show for them.

“Sounds like an ambitious endeavor, but with enough ingenuity, we can pull it off.” Brain concurred. “Now, we just need to obtain materials for the set, some costumes, and a long wig for Rapunzel’s hair.”

“I’ve got some pieces of cardboard from the crafts store,” Yakko stated, pointing over to the small pile of art materials.

“Excellent!” Brain said with a confident grin.

“I have some Calico Critter clothes that would fit you both.” Dot added.

“Wonderful!” Pinky exclaimed, clasping his hands together.

“I’ve got some pisghetti for Rapunzel’s hair!” Wakko declared. He reached into their hammerspace and retrieved a handful of long, moist strands of thin spaghetti, which was covered with small specks of black fur.

Brain stared at the spaghetti and back at the middle child. “Wakko, I am both amazed and disgusted by your creativity.” The smaller mouse remarked. Wakko grinned at the unusual compliment.

“Now, Pinky and I need approximately fifteen minutes to prepare for our low-budget stage production of Rapunzel. So I suggest that you three get ready for bed.”

The Warners saluted the mice and immediately began their bedtime routine of changing into their pajamas and brushing their teeth.

The mice were quick to construct an elaborate set made entirely out of cardboard, don their wardrobes, come up with a script on the fly and memorize said script and all the musical numbers. Pinky was excited to play the role of Rapunzel. The mouse wore a lavender dress and fashioned the spaghetti into a braided blonde wig. Brain decided to play the leading man, wearing a teal vest, a white undershirt, and black pants, and his brown toupee (the same toupee he wore when he taught high school under his Mr. Brainslowski alias and when he acted in A Beautiful Brain).

The Warners emerged from the bathroom in their pajamas. Yakko had a grey T-Shirt with the Warner Bros. logo and red flannel pajama pants. Wakko wore a hockey jersey and a blue bathrobe. Dot a purple nightshirt and matching pajama pants. The siblings were surprised to see a small set on the foot of their bed and the mice already dressed in their respective costumes.

“So, you guys have everything all set?” Yakko asked.

Pinky eagerly nodded. “I’m so excited to play the role of Rapunzel!” He declared as he twirled around.

“And I’m equally excited to play the role of Finn Glider! The charming rogue and Rapunzel’s love interest.” Brain explained dramatically as he struck a dynamic pose.

Yakko raised his hand in objection. “Uuuuuhhh, but isn’t his name Flynn Ri-”

“Ah ah ah!” Brain interrupted with a pointed finger. “We don’t want the mouse to sue, now do we?”

“But Brain, why on earth would I want to sue you?” Pinky questioned as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Brain rolled his eyes and he took Pinky’s hand. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” He told his partner as he tugged him by his hand, retreating behind the curtains of their makeshift stage and turned off the lights.

Moments later, a small puppeteer’s box emerged from the curtains, with a small dim light behind the screen. The mice picked up their shadow puppet props as Brain’s booming voice provided the expository information in the prologue.

“Once upon a time in a faraway kingdom there lived a beautiful princess. But the poor girl was kidnapped at a young age by an awful hag. The poor girl, whom the hag named Rapunzel, lived in solitude in an abandoned tower in the woods. Each day, she stared out at the world from her tower window, longing for companionship…”

The lights behind the small screen blew out. The puppeteer’s box was wheeled away to the left and the curtains pulled back to reveal a painted forest background and a cardboard tower. So far the Warners were impressed with the mice’s creativity and were immediately invested in the play.

Pinky strutted onto the stage, but Brain quickly yanked him back. “You have to open up the tower window, you imbecile!” Brain reprimanded in a hushed voice.

“Oh, sorry Brain!” Pinky whispered back. The Warners suppressed their laughter as the mice dealt with their theatrical screw-up.

The cardboard shutters to the cardboard tower flew open and Pinky popped his head out with a radiant smile on his face.

“Oh, what a lovely morning it is outside! Narf!” He spoke in a somewhat monotone voice. He looked down to refer to his script and continued on. “The animals are having such a fun-fun silly-willy time outside, and yet I am alone in my tower. Oh, how I wish I had someone to talk to.”

At that moment, Brain waltzed onto the stage and stood in a dramatic pose.

Pinky smiled and waved at his co-star. “Greetings, fair person!” He exclaimed. “And what might your name be?”

Brain looked up at the tower and tossed back his toupee. “It is I, Finn Glider! Notorious outlaw, cunning rogue, and certified ladies’ man!” The mouse flashed a smarmy grin at his audience.

Yakko and Dot stifled their giggles.

Wakko, on the other hand, was frightened at the sight of Brain baring his teeth and pulled their hat downward to shield their eyes. “You guys didn’t tell me that this was a scary story!” He wailed.

After giving a smug smile, he turned his attention back to Pinky and approached the cardboard tower. “And who might you be fair maiden?” He inquired. “I could only hope your name is as beautiful as your face!”

“My name is Pinky- I mean, Rapunzel! Zort!” Pinky faltered.

“Nice save,” Brain muttered sarcastically.

“Thank you, Brain.” Pinky kindly replied whilst batting his eyes. The mouse glanced back at the script in his hands and focused on his performance. “So Finn, would you like to drop by for a spot of tea?”

“That sounds lovely, fair Rapunzel.” Brain eagerly responded. He looked to the tower and his smile turned into a forlorn frown. “But alas, I have no way to access the tower.”

“Not to worry, Finn. For I could let down my hair for you to climb up the tower!” Pinky crowed.

Brain knelt down and extended his arm out to Pinky. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your long hair!”

The taller mouse gathered the braided spaghetti wig, which proved to be much heavier than he anticipated. But nevertheless, he happily dropped the pasta wig, which crash-landed on top of Brain. The Warners laughed at the sudden slapstick comedy while the chubby mouse let out an exasperated sigh.

“Glad to know you kids are enjoying yourselves…” Brain soured.

Once he got up, he climbed up the spaghetti wig. However, this proved to be a challenge, for the pasta was surprisingly slippery after staying in Wakko’s pocket for an uncertain amount of time. Upon reaching the top of the tower, Pinky pulled him through the window and the curtains closed, ending the scene.

For the next half hour, the mice continued to perform their rendition of Rapunzel, and the Warners were enchanted throughout the play. In the final scene, the two mice sat in a boat made from a used toilet paper roll cylinder, singing a passionate duet about finding the light and falling in love. Once Pinky and Brain completed their song, they leaned in for a kiss and the curtains closed.

The children stood up and applauded. The mice emerged from the curtains to see their enthusiastic audience. Pinky and Brain exchanged loving glances, proud that they were able to pull off a play in a short amount of time and with limited resources. Clasping their paws together, the mice bowed.

“Oh man, that was a riot!” Yakko cheered.

“Two thumbs way up!” Dot agreed.

Pinky took off his pasta wig and walked up to Wakko. “Oh, can I eat some of the spaghetti?” He pleaded with the middle child.

“Of course,” Wakko said, as he took the spaghetti and split it evenly between themselves and the smaller mouse. “After all, sharing is caring. Right, Brain?”

The intelligent mouse was surprised that not only Wakko remembered his dry remark from their dinner at McDonald’s, but how he has taken it to heart. “That’s correct, Wakko.”

Pinky took one of the strands and offered it to Brain. “Here, you take this end of the spaghetti and we’ll recreate that iconic kiss from Lady and the Tramp!”

Brain silently shoved the spaghetti back to Pinky. “A tempting offer, but I would prefer to have pasta that wasn’t stuffed in someone’s pocket for Lord knows how long.”

“Okay, more for me!” Pinky said before slurping the spaghetti. Brain shook his head at his partner’s moronic display.

Pinky was about to give Brain a kiss, but Brain held his hand up before their lips could collide. “I will only kiss you after you brush your teeth.” He commanded.

“Right!” Pinky agreed.

“Okay children, you know the routine.” Brain addressed.

The Warners nestled themselves underneath the covers. They were rather exhausted after an eventful day and were ready to hit the hay.

Pinky and Brain gave each of the siblings their mandatory goodnight kiss on the cheek before Wakko gave them a goodnight smooch on their heads in return. After the middle child placed them on the nightstand, the mice hopped to their bed.

By the time Wakko turned off the lamp, Brain collapsed on the pillow, eager to fall asleep. The mouse closed his eyes and was ready to drift off to his slumber when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes to see Pinky gazing at him with a worried look.

“Don’t go to sleep just yet,” Pinky said. “I’ve got a surprise for you in the bathroom.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound unsettling in the slightest.” Brain sarcastically remarked.

“But Brain,” Pinky whined.

Brain looked into Pinky’s eyes and pondered for a moment. The last surprise Pinky planned for him turned out to be a fun karaoke night. Perhaps he should have more faith in his partner and indulge in whatever he had in store for him.

“Oh, alright.” Brian surrendered in an exasperated tone.

“Great!” Pinky cheered as he gave Brain a quick smooch on his chubby cheek. “I promise you’re gonna love it! Just give me ten minutes to prepare!”

With that, the lanky mouse hopped down from the bed and scurried over to the restroom. Brain placed his paw over his right cheek and let out a tired sigh. “I don’t know whether to be excited or scared of what that imbecile has up his sleeve.”

AN: I apologize for the long break between chapters. I was feeling the winter blues and hit a bad writer’s block. Fortunately, I managed to overcome that roadblock and now I’m focusing on my writing. The next chapter is going to be considerably shorter compared to the last few chapters and more Brinky-centric, but it’s just as important in regards to character growth.

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #fanfic #brain #pinky #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner

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stillroamer · 3 years

Text

History Repeats

It's TRUE that blessings are often disguised as bitter trials. In Pick and Rome's case their blessing came in the form of a Freaky Friday episode that lasted a week. An entire week spent living each others lives forcing them to self-reflect and recall who they were as individuals and as a couple.

In Rome's case, Rome had to remember that while his boyfriend wasn't big on public displays of affection, it didnt mean he loved him any less. In fact, the way Pick loved Rome meant more to Rome than mere kisses and hand holding in the park ever would. Rome just felt ashamed It had taken this whole body switch experience for him to see that.

(Truth be told, a small part of Rome had always feared his boyfriend would wake up one day and realize that Rome wasn't what or who he wanted. Realize that he wanted more than what Rome could ever give. It was an unreasonable and unfounded fear, but it was always there at the back of his mind. The doubt convincing him that he was running on borrowed time. Convincing him that he had best treasure the moments with his P'Pick because one day he might not have him anymore. )

It took Rome having to live as P'Pick for Rome to remember his boyfriend's love had always been shown not spoken. His P'Pick was a man of action after all. The man whose "I love yous" were displayed in the way he helped Rome reach his cereal from the highest shelf, in the way he, also, drove Rome to work every morning without complaint, the way he kept a picture of them together hidden away on his desk, the way he blew off his coworkers just so he could rush back home straight after work to see him, and in the way he indulged Rome's every whim no matter how small. P'Pick might not openly declare his love but it was always there in other ways that mattered. Rome could see that now.

Moreover, the final confirmation that completely destroyed any remaining doubt Rome had was the fact that P'Pick confessed his workaholic attitude was born out of his need to see for THEIR future. It was in that moment that Rome had been able to see past his fears and insecurities and finally see the man his P'Pick had become.

Pick, on the other hand, had realized that his workaholic tendencies had infringed on his time with the one person he had been doing everything for. He hadn't realized he had made his boyfriend feel like a burden to him. That Rome had been burning himself making coffee because he didnt want Pick to carry the weight of their living expenses all on his own. It made Pick mad that it took a whole curse for him to notice how neglectful he had become to the love of his life. What kind of boyfriend was he that he hadn't even noticed the burns on Rome nor the sacrifices Rome had been making. The curse had been a rather needed wake up call for him.

Thus, Pick found himself requesting a day off from work, much to the shock of his boss and coworkers, to accompany his boyfriend to register for his last semester of college. His presence wasn't necessary but he wanted to be there for moral support. It was also good to be back walking the halls where they had met and fell in love.

"You think once you're done we can sneak into the red room and finish what we started that one time" Pick teased loving the way Rome's entire face flushed in embarrassment.

"Well technically what I started but that's beside the point." He continued ignoring the scandalized 'P'Pick!' from his boyfriend. "I'm quite curious how far you were willing to go had I not stopped"

"Now you're definitely NOT coming inside with me." Rome shook his head motioning for Pick to sit on the benches right outside the Photography room. Just like the old times. "Wait here until I'm done registering"

"Before you graduate, I will have you in that red room" Pick promised laughing at Rome's cheeky "we'll see" response before entering the photography room alone.

Doing as told Pick patiently sat on the bench to wait on Rome. Well he tried to at least. Once the games on his phone no longer held their appeal, Pick got up to inspect the bulletin board on the wall. The bulletin was completely filled to the brim with flyers of all kinds of school activities. Although one in particular caught his eye. It was a flyer announcing the annual exhibition for the photography club's photos.

Suddenly, Pick was reminiscing about THAT disastrous camping trip of Rome's sophomore year. The trip where he had practically almost pushed Rome away from him for good. God he had been such an idiot in denial. Pick had always regretted his behavior during that trip. (Although the kiss that happened right after was definitely something he did not regret. )

Luckily, Rome had still accepted him and had forgave him almost immediately. Pick, on the other hand, wished he could give Rome a better camping experience, preferably WITHOUT a third wheel. Given that this was Rome's last year, Pick figured he could still make it happen.

Just as Pick began trying to plan the trip in his head he was interrupted by someone calling his name. "P'Pick?"

"Oi! Nong Pete, how are you?" Pick greeted happy to see his cousin, Pete.

"I've been good," Pete politely replied, though Pick could tell he was confused, "I thought you had graduated already what are you doing here? Did my dad send you here to spy on me?"

Pick laughed at the annoyed look on Pete's face. Pick really couldn't blame Pete for the accusation. In the past, when Pete had been in high school, Pick had been sent by his uncle to look after his rebellious cousin. Pete's temper had always gotten him in trouble.

"Actually no I'm not here to spy on you. I'm waiting on somebody. Why? Should I be here to look after you? Still getting into trouble Pete?" Pick asked. "Besides isn't the engineer department on the other side of campus what are you doing here?"

"Well, I- I- I'm waiting on someone too" Pete's blush didnt escape Pick's notice nor the fact that Pete suddenly had a new fascination with the floor.

Oh.

Pick laughed "With your temper? Who did you trick into dating you? "

"Hey! " Pete defended himself. "You're..."

The rest of Pete's remark was lost to Pick and his teasing mood gone when he noticed Rome walking out with another man the same flyer he was looking at just moments ago in both their hands.

Disregarding his cousin, Pick walked up to Rome and this other man to announce his presence, hoping he wasn't too late in preventing another terrible camping experience.

" Did you make a new FRIEND?" Pick asked as he gently inserted himself between the two men and emphasizing the word FRIEND. After the whole Din experience , Pick was not keen on having another person thinking they could have HIS boyfriend.

"Ah P'Pick this is Nong Kao, he is my beloved junior from middle school who is now joining the photography club. " Rome happily introduced " Nong Kao this is P'Pick he is our senior who has just recently graduated."

Pick and Kao politely bowed at one another.

"I'm not just your senior you cheeky boy" Pick thought.

"Actually this is the senior I was just telling you about, " Rome continued excitedly "if P'Pick is okay with it, we can borrow his car and go to Phuket to take pictures for the exhibit."

Pick inwardly facepalmed as Rome rambled on about the details of the trip. So much for his plans.

"You're going on a trip?" Pete interrupted, staring intently at Kao.

"Oi Pete, when did you get here?" Kao nervously replied.

" Oh this is Nong Pete!" Rome exclaimed then quickly turned to Kao to mock whisper "He is very handsome."

"Rome" Pick warned whilst Kao turned bright red and Pete gloated. "Dont. Nong Pete is my cousin"

At Rome's happy gasp, Pick wanted to bang his head against the wall. He didn't like the mischievous twinkle in his boyfriend's eyes.

"All four of us should go on a trip!" Rome proposed, much to Pick's dismay.

This was going to be a disaster.

____________________________________________

A/N: I just found this on my phone and decided to post. This was going to be my attempt at a funny fic but I am always tired from work and this has been sitting on my phone for months. SO I'll just leave it here and hopefully someone will like it enough to continue it. If not just imagine offguntaynew's camping episode on offgun's show as the trip 😅.

#pickrome #petekao #pick and pete are cousins bc i say so #idk what this is i just found it on my phone and decided to post #kao and rome would 100% be close friends

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bi-naesala · 3 years

Text

Join me

Despite Maul's doubts on the subject, Obi-Wan is convinced that commander Cody would be a great asset to add to them team, for pragmatic reasons and also... others. Will he be able to convince Cody to collaborate?

((Part of the Sith Obi-Wan AU))

Can also be read on AO3

Meetings with Maul have become less frequent once it became known that he’s still alive. This isn’t something Obi-Wan had planned, but he figures that saving his brother was too important than secrecy.

In his immense mercy, he’s decided long ago to let it pass, despite the fact that, in the end, Savage Oppress has died anyway. As much as it is a tragedy, it’s also good, though, very good, because it only added more to Maul’s rage; now it’s not just Sidious the one he wants dead, but Ventress too, who according to him is the catalyst of Savage’s premature death. What matters now is that Maul wants revenge even more than he did before, which is exactly what Obi-Wan needs.

The downside is that they have to be even more careful than before when they meet. Sidious’ words when he learned that Maul is actually alive still haven’t left Obi-Wan’s mind; it’s the closest to fear he’s every felt.

And this is why they’re meeting in a shitty Outer Rim motel, instead of a decent place.

This is something - the only thing - he admires of him, his ability to turn even the most innocent sentence into a threat.

He told it wasn’t his fault, that he did his duty as he should’ve, that the Dark Side is a mysterious thing, but he also implied that he was his job to rectify his mistake, or else the consequences were going to be dire.

Frankly, Obi-Wan can’t wait to shut his mouth forever.

“Are you even listening?”

Obi-Wan shakes his head as Maul’s voice brings him back to reality.

“Mh, sorry. Could you repeat that?”

Maul rolls his eyes. “Weren’t you the one who said that we had little time and that we should get to business immediately?” he chastises him. Well, he’s right.

“I know, I’m sorry…”

Maul responds with silence, at least at first. He looks deep in thought, and for once Obi-Wan isn’t able to predict what is going on inside his head, at least not until Maul speaks again. “You seem distracted as of late.”

“Do I?” Obi-Wan replies, trying to dissimulate. “Must be your imagination...”

“Obviously,” Maul hisses, completely unconvinced. “You aren’t at all thinking about something, or rather… someone.” Obi-Wan, for all his supposed diplomatic abilities, looks away, barely able to keep his guilt hidden as Maul continues. “And this certain someone certainly isn’t a certain clone commander that has been working with you for the past what? Two years?”

At those words, Obi-Wan glares Maul with all the fury he can muster, weirdly protective as he hears the spiteful tone with which Maul is obviously referring to commander Cody. Maul, never one to back down for a challenge, holds his gaze like it’s nothing, determined not to be the first one to breaks, which prompts Obi-Wan to do the sensible thing and deign him of a response, lest they end up their meeting having solved nothing.

“You’re right,” he admits. “I’ve been thinking about him.”

“He seems a capable and honest man, I’ll give you that,” Maul states, though he continues, “but that’s not all, isn’t it?”

He’s right, again. “Yes, I… I’ve been thinking about getting him on board of our operation.”

“And why is that?” Maul asks, face carefully blank - not that if fools Obi-Wan.

“For starters, it’s become harder and harder to keep our correspondence from him. It would be way more efficient for him to become our accomplice rather than having him finding out about this project of ours and reporting it to Sidious,” he begins, trying not to sound like he cares too much about this. “He’s intelligent, a great fighter, and already knows about Sidious. I think he’d be useful to us.”

Maul doesn’t say anything at first. He keeps looking at Obi-Wan with an intensity that makes the other almost want to duck away from his gaze, scratching his chin as he thinks. Despite everything, Obi-Wan stays there, still, letting Maul think his thoughts; he refuses to give him the chance to watch him faltering.

Eventually, however, Maul reaches a conclusion.

“I think you’re making a mistake. You’re risking to ruin everything.”

“When I came to you about this, so long ago…” Obi-Wan begins, “Wasn’t I taking a risk as well? You could’ve ratted me out to Sidious, but you didn’t.”

“So? What does that have to do--”

“Don’t you see? It’s the same exact thing now,” Obi-Wan concludes, and there’s a teasing smile on his face. “You and Cody are more alike than you think.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. “Take it as you will,” he says.

Still, despite Maul’s reticence, he does have a point.

“I can see why they call you the Negotiation,” Maul mutters, making Obi-Wan chuckle, but then he continues. “Does he interest you?”

“I thought we’ve already established that he can be of great help to us--”

“Obi-Wan,” Maul cuts him off - Obi-Wan, not Kenobi - making it clear that he wants him to cut the shit. Obi-Wan sighs, looking away from him.

“Yes,” he admits, eventually. He has promised himself time and time again that he would’ve played the part of the mature person and talk about his feelings, but every time he tried, the resolve to do so always abandoned him. “This doesn’t mean that-- mpfh!”

He’s cut off by a kiss. Maul’s holding him by the edge of his Jedi tunic, lips pressed against his to convey what he can’t with words. Only once they pull away he speaks.

“I know.”

They kiss again, this time slower. It took them a while - too long one might argue - but now they know: no matter what happens, they belong to each other.

“Go, now, and convince your commander,” Maul mutters as he pulls away. It seems all too easy, but Obi-Wan’s glad things are going as they are.

“I will.”

Obi-Wan begins to walk away, but before he vanishes from Maul’s view, he turns towards him.

“By the way, you should give him a chance,” he says. “I have a feeling you’d like him.”

Maul snorts.

“Yeah, right. We’ll see…”

Once Obi-Wan’s back to Coruscant, he can’t help but to sigh, scratching his beard.

Maul isn’t entirely wrong: this infatuation of his could jeopardize everything, but he doesn’t think he’s gotten a wrong read on Cody. He’s more likely to follow him than Sidious, of this he’s certain, and yet there’s still room for some small doubt in his head.

The best thing he can do is to ask Cody directly, and if he truly says no… Well, he has ways to deal with that, because even though he wants him on the team, he’s not going to let everything get ruined in case he’s misjudged him.

Yes, he’s going to find him.

All it takes is a comm to confirm his suspicions: Cody is in his commander quarters back in the Coruscant barracks.

“Cody, may I speak with you, privately?” Obi-Wan asks, trying not to focus too much on the way the commander’s face lights up with a teasing smile as he replies.

“Aren’t we already speaking privately?”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, and yet he can’t help but to smile. “No sassing the general, commander.”

“Aw, not even a bit?” the other replies, though after a pause he continues, “Shall I get the boiler ready?”

Tea does sound lovely, he’s not going to lie. Alright, Obi-Wan will indulge. “Yes, if you’d be so kind.”

Cody nods, then pauses. Actually, both of them do. There’s a strange tension in the air, tangible even despite the fact that they aren’t speaking directly in the strict sense of the word. There’s more that both of them would like to say, but something stops them, maybe a sense of discretion, maybe something else…

“Then I’ll be waiting for you, general,” Cody says, eventually, his voice awfully soft, or maybe it must be some kind of interference on the comm - Obi-Wan would rather it being the latter.

“Yes, see you soon, Cody.”

When he does indeed arrive to Cody’s quarters, he’s greeted by the commander, who’s still wearing his dress grays, instead of his usual armor. Figured it would be more comfortable.

There’s something in the way they greet each other, in the way Cody excuses himself to serve them tea, that is quite… domestic. Yes, domestic. That’s not a word Obi-Wan ever thought he’d use for anything, not with how his life has been, not with how his life is going to be; there’s no space for domesticity in his future Empire, not for him at least.

In another life, maybe… but Obi-Wan shouldn’t get distracted from what is his main objective of this visit.

“Cody, may I ask you something?”

“Of course, general,” the clone replies.

“Please, this isn’t an official meeting, you can call me Obi-Wan.”

He can sense the commander’s hesitation, but he can’t help but to smile when he says: “Alright, I’ll try… Obi-Wan.”

He can sense that it’s been a while since he wanted to do that. He really hopes their mutual attraction will be enough to convince him…

“What do you think about my Master?”

Cody’s posture tenses immediately at those words; he’s clearly guarded now.

“I think that he’s a great strategist,” he begins, almost mechanical, like he’s rehearsed this speech time and time again, “And--”

“Cody. I’m not testing your loyalty,” Obi-Wan cuts him off, “I don’t need lies.”

The commander almost flinches at his harsh words, but his poker face is excellent. Things won’t go anywhere if they both keep being guarded like this however; he needs to change tactics.

He rises from his seat and he walks towards Cody, kneeling in front of him, then he goes to take one of his hands between his. Cody’s still tense, but Obi-Wan can feel the waves of emotions that this is causing him - he feels them too.

“But don’t you think that he’s a bit too much… self-serving?” he asks, massaging his knuckles.

“Talk about an understatement,” Cody huffs. Now they’re going somewhere.

“Exactly,” he replies, “If I may be so frank, I’ve been having doubts about his effectiveness as a ruler…”

Cody doesn’t say anything for a while, deep in thought. Still, he hasn’t pushed Obi-Wan away, so at least it’s safe for him to assume that he must have a favorable opinion about what he just said, nor that he minds him touching him so intimately, something they have never done, except that time… He should focus on the present, not the past.

What he begins doing, instead, is to rub circles with his thumbs on Cody’s palm. Even for this he doesn’t push him away, nor he gives any indication of not liking it, so Obi-Wan keeps going.

When Cody seems to have reached a conclusion, he speaks again. “So, where are you going with this?”

Straight to the point. Obi-Wan should’ve known. “I have friends… Friends that agree with me,” he says, seeing no point in hiding his true intentions anymore.

He can sense Cody’s amusement as he replies. “Something tells me you have a plan of some sort.”

“Mh… Depends if you want in or not…”

“And if I do?”

They’re so close that Obi-Wan could safely close the distance between them, but…

From all the scruples he gets, he must be making a rather poor Sith, mustn’t he?

“Cody… This is a dangerous path. Are you sure you want to take it?”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody begins, his voice serious, “I’d rather do this with you than remain under Sidious’ orders.”

Obi-Wan wants to kiss him so bad, but what he does instead is telling him everything: the plot, Padmé’s participation and… Maul.

He reserves him for last, and can feel the change of atmosphere as he admits to everything. Cody’s gaze hardens, and his voice becomes cold. “Ah, he says, “So this whole thing was all a ruse?”

Damn it. This isn’t how Obi-Wan wanted things to go. “No!” he exclaims immediately, hands shooting straight up to cradle Cody’s face between his hands. He moves gently, with care; it’s so different from when he’s with Maul, but lately they too have gotten softer with each other. “I wasn’t lying to you. Cody… you aren’t just a pawn in my plan. If I’ve shown interest in you, it’s because this is how I really feel.”

“But what about--”

“He knows, and he’s fine with it.”

There are many things that should’ve been said, but for once Obi-Wan’s glad Cody takes the initiative to kiss him.

He’s not being soft, and Obi-Wan melts immediately. He’s waited for this for too long.

As he reaches out for Cody’s face, cupping it between his hands, a surge of thoughts of mine mine mine mine begin to echo louder and louder in his head. He’s always been denied everything in his life, but not this time, not now that he has the power to get what he wants.

Foolish Jedi with their fear of attachments; they haven’t understood how much more powerful they can make all of them. Granted, they also make you vulnerable, because they give you something to lose, but in return they give you a drive that nothing else can give you, because when you get attached to something, you’d do anything in order not to lose it.

Maul is his, Cody is his, his future Empire is his. One could ask him what makes him think that he deserves all this, what makes him so better than everyone else that he can get what he wants and keep it from himself; Obi-Wan would just laugh and silence whoever would dare to question him in such a way. He wouldn’t even need to use brute force, just his silver tongue; if there’s something he’s learned in these years is that, with the right words, he can bring anyone to his cause.

By the time he and Cody pull away, they’ve been kissing so harshly that their lips are all bruised, but it doesn’t matter, not at all. What matters is how obediently and pliantly Cody moves, when Obi-Wan gets him on the table.

The teapots crash on the pavement with a loud noise, but neither of them minds, not when they’re busy kissing and kissing and kissing again. Their bodies fit so well together, Obi-Wan finds. An obvious sign that it’s meant to be, because Cody is his, just as much as Obi-Wan is his. What? Of course it goes both ways: Obi-Wan would do anything Cody asks, just like he’d do with Maul.

It could be so easy to just use them - use everyone - as means to an end, but Obi-Wan has never liked the easy road.

He pulls away just enough to be able to watch Cody squirm under him, taking in the details of his flushed face, as well as his swollen lips and undone hair.

It could be a problem for them to be found in such a compromising position, but Obi-Wan’s not worried about it; he’s locked the door as soon as he stepped in, and if someone still manages to get inside, well… he has other ways to deal with them.

Deciding that he doesn’t care about that, he goes down on Cody again. He’ll take everything he’ll have to give him; selfish, he knows, but he refuses not to indulge in his nature. He won’t hold his freedom back.

Eventually, he’ll have to fill Cody in with the specifics of his plan, but for now he only keeps kissing him and touching him and holding him. It’s something he’ll never get tired of.

What really matters is that he’s gained his devotion, the strongest weapon of all.

#codywan #obimaul #obi wan kenobi #darth maul #commander cody #sw #tcw #star wars #the clone wars #my fics #mine #clone husband #sith obi wan au

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spiritualgateway · 3 years

Text

We are not impressed

wiritten by Steven Black:

Welcome.

This is mission control. We come with greetings from home and some thoughtful words. When we wrote you in the manual to act like natives on Earth and act just as narrow-minded, alarmist and ignorant as the majority of this planet lives, we did NOT mean this to be a permanent condition. It was only meant to allow you to pass as natives and be accepted as the same. We brought you, the troublemakers and rebels of the universe on board to kick the butts of the powerful on the planet hard, get things moving and wake up the sleeping majority rudely.

You've done a wonderful job of that. We are pleased about that. However, we are not impressed by the fact that a lot of you have been treading water ever since, doing nothing but creating more excitement and spreading some sensational information. No, folks. There was nothing about this in the manual and it wasn't planned that way. Seriously, we are not amused.

A few of you are running around proclaiming, "look, the end is near," and other participants in the cosmic plan suddenly desperately want to be Germans, Austrians, or whatever, and are indulging in national small-mindedness.

Hello, seriously now?

At the beginning some of us found it funny to observe beings, which were always known in the universe for expansion that they were suddenly occupied with shrinking and decreasing. Meanwhile, we don't find it so funny anymore. We find it quite exhausting. Like, by the way, some of the other things you fabricate there on Earth.

For the majority of the planet it is an accustomed, acceptable condition to see themselves only as receivers of information. You can just slap everything around their ears. And it is considered completely normal to simply pass on any information, no matter how negative and fearful it may be. They however should know that they are receiver AND transmitter of information. Please use your consciousness and your mind in the future, when you receive negative information again, before you simply pass it on. That is what a mind is for. You use it. Please be aware that any information should be checked for validity and sense first.

Further, make sure that what you want to pass on is really useful and helpful to other people. As a sender of information, you have a responsibility. Ask yourself, is this really the kind of energy I want to send into the world? It's not about not giving criticism. It's about examining that criticism for validity and usefulness. What is of no use to anyone is a waste of time - and energy.

Whether something is true or not cannot be evaluated by internet. None of you know the people behind who spread such information. You know neither their motives, nor the personal backgrounds to judge something like that. And the anonymous sources they refer to - well, the mainstream media work the same way. They know that, "close intelligence circles said, blah blah blah." Meanwhile, the "alternative media" is starting to work the same way.

Anyone can claim to care about humanity, the people or whatever. Most of the time other interests are at the forefront. Their predictable reaction when they believe this is fear, resistance, powerlessness, anger, hatred. It lowers their personal energy vibration to a little light that may just be blinking.

Did you know that there are more and more "social bots" in your so-called "social networks"? These are small programs that collect and spread information, especially used in political discussions, but also in sports and dating portals. Various political and economic interest groups use this tool to create the "right mood".

The postings are attributed to real people, but in fact various "News" are generated automatically and by machine. These social bots are so adaptable that it is almost impossible to distinguish between human and machine. At least not if you don't bother to check these "news".

Today, hate propaganda and xenophobia is often created by software and scattered on the Internet. There, this "fake news" meets people who, without checking, simply believe it because it seems to fit with their worldview - and off it goes, creating shitstorms. Be very clear about this. Just because something is possible doesn't mean it has to happen. But it can happen if you are not aware that your reaction serves the interests of power groups that are masters in creating enemy images and are very adept at turning people against each other.

There is a war going on on your planet for the information interpretation sovereignty, because "the power behind the throne" is fighting for its survival. Hereby it is tried to direct your attention and to areas which are far away from your personal life. Population management means arousing fears, reducing positive energies, injecting powerlessness and victim consciousness, and psychologically overwhelming the citizen in order to channel a reaction of anger, indignation, rejection. If consciousness has been successfully directed to a situation with a lot of information, some of it contradictory, and the individual is confused, the desired reaction occurs.

Stirring up trouble and waking up are only a tiny part of the multi-step plan, the main part is that you come back into your full power and demonstrate to the earthlings how to radiate from within. You seem to have completely skimmed over this chapter, or, knowing you, you didn't read it at all. This is bad. For us and for you. Not to mention the majority of the planet. All this 3 D actionism is starting to worry us. We get the strong impression that some of you are stuck in the middle of the process.

You are just repeating the information education that we started since the 1990s. All the information about the elite of this planet, mental manipulation, pharma, military, politics, wars, etc., served a purpose, but really should not be used for you to go here and point fingers at the supposed bad guys. Nor should you fight against them. We were hoping you would see the bigger picture in this. By processing the information given and really getting the point in what it's all about - which is you, personally - and realizing how the planet is controlled so YOU could stop falling for it and raise your personal vibration. Okay, didn't work so well, at least not for many of you.

Please try to understand that the power behind the "official power", basically profits from hatred, anger, powerlessness, even if this hatred may be directed against them themselves, or various political, economic interests in which they have invested and are involved. Because anger, fear, rage, hatred, powerlessness, victim consciousness and helplessness are very low vibrating energy fields, the more people are stuck in it, the bigger the field and the easier it is to maintain the "status quo" and carry out their plans.

The fear of a world war and/or an irrational religious war of course works very much into their hands. This is how the old energy works, always has and it is now fighting for survive. Scattering fear, uncertainty and doubt are a powerful weapon in the hands of those who for millennia have power over the planet.

In the course of the further step ignition it comes now to the intensified dissolution of your energetic barriers, within their multi-dimensional bodies. You have probably already noticed that they are becoming more permeable. That is why these fear-inducing messages have such an impact on you. And if you do not make an effort to clear your emotional body, you may not succeed in overcoming the low vibrational fields. Because these go into resonance with repressed and hidden contents IN your own consciousness and your emotional field.

You are here to raise these fields. Since we cannot need energetic blockages, or various subtle constructs that block the energies we send to your material body and Mother Earth through YOU. Because if you are not free of these blockages, the soul parts and energies that we send to you for support keep coming back to us. We send in, it comes back. We send in, it comes back. We find this annoying, constantly operating in repeat mode without getting anywhere. So please, finally take care of it.

We are very aware that you are tired and very disillusioned. We told you at the beginning - going to Earth is one of the hardest jobs in the universe. But we also know you can still do it, and you will. Apart from that, unfortunately, there is no alternative. There is only you. You are all we have and we put all our trust in you - still, because we have no other choice.

While the denial of the facts staggers along its peak, the biosphere contains less and less oxygen, the food is enriched with more and more toxins and the ecological balance mutates to a term that mocks every serious description. However, there are no other special forces which we could send to mankind to hold it back from the abyss of self-destruction. They are on their own. You all knew this before and now we remind you again of the briefing that you found so boring.

They were so full of themselves and thought it would be a piece of cake to take care and clean up on Earth. But the 3 D Matrix had them all under its spell. Unpleasant surprise, isn't it? In our experience, it takes a good 30-50 Earth years to fight your way through it. We gave you that time, but believe us - if you had paid more attention during the briefing and read the manual or at least just the emergency edition, you would have been spared a lot. Hopefully, that will teach you a lesson for the next time.

Please be aware, we need you! Mankind needs you, the earth needs you. And we have heard your personal calls for more help, which you sent to us on behalf of the people. But since this is probably a big misunderstanding on your part, we would like to remind you of another section of the briefing:

YOU are the help you are calling for! You and all other suicidal volunteers ARE the help we sent!

Pretending now that you are not in charge and hoping others will do the job will not look good on your leadership record. And demanding that God finally step in and fix this problem (yes, we heard that exactly) gives some of you an even less appealing report card. People caused the problems, people need to solve them too. Besides, God is at present fully occupied with the re - organization of universe and the creation of new codes and must not be disturbed (HE has given us personally to understand this).

You are on earth. You are responsible. You wanted the job and YOU also got it. So you make now obligingly something halfway reasonable from it.

Your present reality on earth looks honestly quite shitty. And that is actually good and wakes you up. There are truly more uplifting images we can imagine than watching a world afflicted by madness, whose social, economic and political world structure is falling apart, die. But that, of course, is what it's all about - dying. Your old, familiar, accustomed world is dying and there is nothing you can do about it. But many of you still try to stubbornly hold on to the old reality - and stop the dying process.

Things are changing, sometimes tremendously and in ways that none of you can oversee. However, you can help shape the way it happens. How chaotic it becomes is entirely in your hands. Some helpful points in this regard, for your kind attention:

Keep a little distance from the free will of others and tame your spiritual ambition. Or best of all, direct the energy of your ambition toward the avoidance of spiritual ambition.

If someone is desperate to spin the wheel, don't stop him. Cheer him on, because only a crash landing will bring him back to his senses.

Please give up your remaining victim attitude and switch into the responsible creator mode. We certainly understand and know from our own earth experience how difficult it can be to discard cherished worries and various notions of how small and helpless you are. It's so terribly convenient to rant about everything and name culprits, there's no need to get off your own butt.

Spread courage and optimism, no matter how little it may seem to be justified - but appearances are deceptive, they are always blinding. NOTHING is as it appears to be.

Please stop trying to dissolve your ego. Instead, see to it that you get a reasonably sane ego that is at peace with itself. You cannot dissolve your ego, you can only split it off. And that is not something we would like to see in you. "The ego" is your vehicle through which you were able to have an experience in the first place.

Please do not pretend that you are invulnerable and untouchable. What is happening here hurts, allow that pain. Meet the shadows inside you, integrate and digest these inner shadows. This will hurt, real shadow work breaks you open. This is a good thing and prevents the pain inside from forming into a weapon that turns against you.

Stay with yourself even when the world around you seems to be going crazy. Sweep outside your own front door, there is plenty to do there.

Rise above the low fields and try to wring something good out of your life.

Never forget that you are a star child who has successfully completed this task in many corners of the galaxy. Earth may be a particularly stubborn nut to crack, but you will crack that nut. In any case, giving up is not an option. Please pull yourself together and hold out, that would be even nicer.

Come on, impress yourself! Show us who you are and please stop playing the tourist!

Written in the style of E.T. 101.

Nothing you read here is THE truth. It is my truth, my perception and how I see things – now, in this moment.

Until next time same station ..

THE INFORMATION SPACE

#spiritual

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mahizli · 3 years

Text

Urban Harmony (Bail Organa and Obi-Wan, 21 BBY)

Part 7 of ‘Sparks of Hope - A Star Wars Advent Calendar’

***

The soft notes of the trumpet circled the stools, dancing on tiptoes on the bar, laughing at the many aligned bottles as night grew dark as ink outside, and Bail smiled, closing his eyes.

It felt like a stolen moment from a long-gone time – shielded and refined, so very urban, yet there was purity in those notes. Purity and a sense of improvisation that allowed his mind to truly relax. Forgetting for a few minutes that they were at war, that Alderaan was far away and peace even more elusive – it was just music, a sense of pleasure and irony, and harmony.

“Forgive me”, he told Obi-Wan, once the song died away, soon replaced by another soft, musical tune. “I confess this piece always gets me.

- No need to apologize…”

His friend was smiling, fingers loosely circling his glass, waving ember circles with a small flick of his wrist. He had discarded his plastoid armour for their meeting at the Senate and simply wore his many Jedi layers, and his brown cloak – yet Obi-Wan did not seem out of place, sipping at Corellian Cardhu, something rare and peaceful shining through his grey eyes.

“I still can’t believe your Jedi tricks worked – they just don’t look at us, it’s as if we were just…

- Just people having a drink. Not worth more than a second glance. My suggestion exactly.”

Obi-Wan was smiling and Bail shook his head.

“And they just… believe it? If you were sitting there with someone else, and I were to enter the bar, would I fall for it as well?

- Well…”, Obi-Wan tipped his glass just so slightly, watching the Cardhu draw another small circle. “I’m not sure. For you, my friend, have a very shrewd and observant mind. I suppose I would have to argue very hard with your signature…

- Is that what you do, Obi-Wan?”

The trumpet raised another few defiant notes, and Obi-Wan looked up at him, shaking his head slowly.

“No, Bail. I only Force-suggest when I have to, and it usually works on bound, self-serving minds. It’s against the Jedi way to try and influence anybody, unless circumstances are dire.

- And you, my friend, have a true silver tongue. For you managed to make me feel very smart, before wondering how you define dire.”

Obi-Wan smiled, and they both took a sip, basking in the trumpet’s notes for a while. The Senate meeting had taken ages, and Bail was glad to have managed to convince his friend to follow him there – it seemed so long since they had talked of anything else than negotiations or strategics.

“Qui-Gon would have loved this”, Obi-Wan said, voice very low, and Bail hummed, softly, because his friend rarely indulged into that particular topic. “The music. The peace. The Cardhu, as well, of course.”

He had a soft, small laugh and Bail smiled.

“He loved Summertime, you know. He used to hum it all the time. So did I, to be honest. But this… this is distilled wonder, Bail.

- The true essence of trumpet-playing”, Bail simply replied, taking another sip. “I come here whenever I miss Alderaan, and am never disappointed.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes softened, and he placed his glass back on the table.

“Do you manage to get home, Bail?

- Whenever I can… Every three months or so. Breha doesn’t come here often, so I suppose I am the one who needs to board the ship.”

His friend chuckled, but Bail could see the faraway look in his eyes that had never really left, ever since Obi-Wan had informed the Senate of his next mission’s goal.

“And what about your ship, tomorrow… For Mandalore? The Jedi Council seemed to imply you had spent some time there, years ago…

- Yes…”

His friend leant back in his chair, hand moving towards his glass again – features softening even more. He looked less like a Jedi and more like a man, suddenly, and though Bail knew Obi-Wan’s fierceness in war, and even sharper mind when it came to negotiations or battle plans, it seemed to him his friend was letting down his guard, slowly. For a few husky hours, shadowed by trumpet notes and confidences.

“I spent a year guarding the Duchess, when I was sixteen years-old, along with my Master. Until Sundari was safe and stable once more.

- And then?”, Bail asked, softly, and Obi-Wan had a small shrug, sipping at his glass once more.

“And then we came back. She became the leader of her people, and I… resumed my Padawan duties. Force knows our next mission was not long to arise…”

Just like now.

The words hung unspoken between them, and Bail nodded, slowly.

“Far from me to question the Jedi ways, Obi-Wan… But is it not a bit… heartless to send you there, of all people, given the current accusations against Duchess Satine? Or is it another clever trick?”

Obi-Wan smiled, eyes still fixed on the table.

“No Jedi trick. My friends suspected something, I suppose, back then. But only Qui-Gon knew. My Master was very gifted, you see, at acknowledging the losses I was yet too young to feel. He did not say a word. But… those months and years afterwards, he took great care to make me see that, though I could not have them, the Force was still helping me reaching out for them.

- Them…”, Bail repeated, softly, and it was no real question, but Obi-Wan still answered him, eyes dusky in the half-shadows.

“Children. What Jedi cannot have – yet we are all children of the Force, and those who have nothing have everything. As I so well know now, having to deal both with a reckless Padawan, and an intrepid Grand-Padawan.”

This time, Obi-Wan’s smile was genuine, and Bail smiled back.

“A last glass? For the journey… One can never know where it takes us.

- How very true, my friend… How very true.”

The trumpet let out a few soft thrills – telling of friends sitting together before parting ways once more, of love and dare, of dreams and wishes. Of understanding – of letting go, and smiles exchanged, contemplating the odd whims of life. And of faith – of music, and simple harmony.

#obi wan kenobi #bail organa #obi wan x satine #nostalgia #star wars #obi leaves for mandalore and maybe obitine happens #music #fanfiction

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canyouhearthelight · 5 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 65

I am so, so sorry for getting this out so late in the day. I know this should have gone up almost eight hours ago. Entirely too much has been going on.

Thank you for bearing with.

“Final systems check,” Grey announced, glancing briefly over from the display and nodding at me.

Noah waved its left liw and vomu in a very human gesture, albeit in multiple. “Proper recordings of every Terran scientific paper in our database are prepared to be communicated directly into your translation implant.”

“He means audio,” I stage-whispered to Conor and Maverick. Tyche had marched out and read them the riot act after she and I cleared the air. Their abashed apologies once she dragged them back were still under consideration, but I felt safer with them in the room.

I was also a bit loopy on the sedatives they had given me for my blood pressure. So sue me.

Rolling her eyes, my sister turned to Antoine. “And the connection?”

“Strong and clear,” he confirmed.

Maverick cleared his throat to get our attention. “If we can stream all this information directly into her implant, why aren’t we using this for learning?”

Antoine leveled a half-scathing glare – I couldn’t tell if I was more impressed he mustered any degree of ‘scathing’ or that he was tired enough to let it slip through – before explaining. “Any information retention will be trivial at best, and that would be largely because of Sophia’s exceptional memory. She is still essentially hearing several lectures in a row and repeating them back as soon as she hears it.”

Poor Maverick looked devastated. Unfortunately, his pout was almost comical, and it took every bit of what little self-control I had left to keep from laughing.

It seemed I wasn’t doing as good a job as I thought, because Tyche turned away with a growl, hands flung in the air. “Okay, papers are queued up, connection to the implant is good. Did we get the medication figured out?”

“Confirmed,” Grey asserted without looking up. “Sophia, you will be in REM sleep, but still lucid. This should let you control the dream and speak to Else.”

“So I’ll be hypnotized.”

Grey scoffed, but Antoine cut them off. “We discussed this, Dr. Hodenson. While you may not believe in hypnosis, it is a proven phenomenon. While difficult to accomplish deliberately, I have witnessed Sophia subject to this mental state.”

“Wait, what?” My neck hurt from turning so fast to look at him.

“When you read. When you cook. When you wrap presents,” he ticked off on his fingers.

“I’m not hypnotized, I’m in the zone,” I argued.

Tyche rolled her neck and cocked an eyebrow at me. “That is literally hypnosis, specifically when you read. I remember seeing you sit in a house with no heat, in January, in shorts and a t-shirt, sweating bullets while reading a book that ended up taking place in Mumbai in summer. You get cravings for whatever foods your favorite characters are eating, even if you hate the food.”

“That’s not hypnosis, that’s suggestion,” Grey stated flatly.

“And hypnosis is the induction of a state of consciousness that makes you particularly susceptible to suggestion,” Antoine pointed out, equally flat. With these two, it was practically a shouting match.

Heading off the galaxy’s calmest blow out, I spoke up. “So, creation’s most boring audiobooks, check. Overkill-quality headphones, check. Deep-fake VR drugs, check.” I pointed at myself with both thumbs, “Stoned and willing guinea pig, double check. Let’s get this done.”

Two hours into spouting off what seemed to be hematological extracts, I was considerably less stoned and significantly less willing.

“A low packed cells volume usually indicablood loss due to cell destruction or failure in bone marrow production, while high mean corpuscular hemoglobin concentrations – “

Please. Stop.

“Oh thank fuck,” I gasped, allowing myself to tune out the stream of information piped directly into my head. “Else, is that you?”

Yes, I am here.

“Well, at least it worked… you’re talking quite a bit better now.” I glanced around at the landscape. While focusing on reciting two hours of scientific papers, I had to ignore it all. Since the last time I was here, I managed to figure out that the Ark in my dreams was an analogue of my health, from Else’s perspective. Right now, everything looked okay. The walls were cracked, but all the pieces were in place. No water. All the lights were functioning. “Also, good to see I’m not dying.”

We wouldn’t let you die. We need you.

“Not all of me,” I pointed out to thin air.

Your hemoglobin, Else’s voice admitted.

I nodded. “That sounds more accurate. You eat iron, right?”

Yes. And there is so much here.

“That sounds sinister,” I mused. Since Else has been able to read my thoughts in the past, I made a point in the dream to speak out loud. It was more for me than the bacteria, since literally all of this interaction was happening in my head anyway. “Is that why you are on the ship.”

I didn’t ask to be here. Humans brought me here.

“The same humans you’re eating. Were you in the core samples we gathered?”

No. I came later.

“But that is the only time we have taken anything on board since we left Earth.” This wasn’t making sense.

I am from the Ark.

“Else, you aren’t making sense,” I took a deep breath. I imagined taking a deep breath. Something. I was definitely getting a very real headache. “If you only came after the core samples, but you come from the Ark, how does that work? Are you another alien race? What planet are you from?”

I am from the Ark.

“I mean what planet – “

No planet. I am from the Ark.

“Wait, what? You mean… Life on Earth evolved from the primordial soup that existed after Earth formed. From… amino acids, then proteins…”

From the oceans, to be simple.

“Right, from the oceans.” I mused. “But we’re in space, with all the radiation you could want, plus exotic trace minerals that may be in those core samples, and a big god-damned – “

Language, Else admonished.

“Oh, now you have a sense of humor,” I huffed. “We have a big lake with all kinds of biological experiments going on in BioLab 2. Is that where you come from?��

Not just the water. Experiments, too.

“Fuck.”

None of that.

“So we made you.”

Yes.

My knees spiked in agony as I hit the deck below my feet. “It was an accident,” I begged in a hoarse whisper. “All the shitty things we have done to ourselves and each other, please tell me it was an accident.”

Did you know if you were an accident before you were told by your parent?

“That is such a low blow,” I scowled. “You and Tyche are the only ones who know that.”

But fair.

“Unfortunately.” I huffed an imaginary lock of hair that just appeared in my face for the sole purpose of doing so. “I am going to assume this was an accident.”

Ouch.

Indulgently, I stomped around, fists clenched, growling the entire time. “I am negotiating with a sentient colony of bacteria, one that humanity made, somehow, and now you have hurt feelings!?” I was screaming by the end of it, and a distant part of my brain registered a chilled sensation in my arm. “Stop sedating me, I’m pissed!” Breathing heavily, I tried to calm down. “I get that it’s insulting, Else, but trust me, you do not want humanity to have made you deliberately. If that was the case, your only actual function is to kill people and destroy buildings.”

I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to live.

“As a former intended entrée, I can sympathize. But you are killing us, Else.” Hot tears filled my eyes. “I’m okay so far, but that is only because Miys is constantly infusing me with freshly made, iron-rich blood. What happens when we’re out of resources? Or reach our destination?”

Nutrient rich plants, engineered to grow on the new planet.

“Conor,” I gasped, covering my mouth as the tears I was trying so hard to hold back fell down my face. “The catnip he gave Tyche. He said it was a failed experiment.”

He does not know he created us. The gift was in good will.

“Is that how you infected her?”

No. She likes to swim. And she loves you.

“Difference between intelligence and sentience: that was exactly the wrong thing to say,” I hissed. “The only body you have are the ones you stole from my family and the crew, so I can’t actually hurt you. But I am this close,” I held my fingers so they were barely not touching, “to having Miys filter you out of our blood and flush you into space. The only reason I am here talking to you is because we knew you were sentient before we realized you were killing us.” Another deep breath. “Try. Again.”

She was infected when she went swimming. It was not intentional. We needed iron.

“Much better.”

We did not mean for the mermaid to be injured so. There was so much iron in her blood. I did not know that taking it away would harm her.

“You harmed us all!” I screamed. “All of us! You made Grey absent-minded and forgetful. You undermined their confidence. You made Conor, Grey, and Antoine angry,” I spat. “The biggest betrayal of all. Three of the calmest, most reasonable people I know, the ones who would have rooted for you, and you took that away from them!”

I –

“Conor and Grey made you!”

Did not know. Not then. But I-we know that now. And we are sorry.

”Are you? Or are you pleading for your life?”

I-we want to live.

“That I believe.”

But we want you to live, even if we are not within you.

“How the fuck do you think we do that? Humans are the only source of iron on the ship.”

I-we am-are bacteria. I-we can be isolated.

“And then, what? Leave you on some poor planet to kill some other species? I hate to tell you, but you went from birth to genocide in alarming fashion. All of humanity that is left, is on this ship, and you are killing what’s left. From what we understand, the Galactic Council would frown on what you’re doing.” I focused on sending the information I had gotten back to Miys and everyone listening in. “I can’t let you do this to another species.”

Barren planet. Old one, where no more life will survive.

“One that is at the end of its life cycle?”

I-we do not believe I-we am-are vulnerable to heat.

I waited patiently for information before I responded. “Miys says we can isolate you and test for you heat resistance before booting you off in a nebula that you can’t fuck up. Is that sufficient?”

Humans cannot live in a nebula.

“We can’t live in a pylon either, but you ate it all the way through.”

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#the miys #science fiction #humans are weird #original fiction #humans are space orcs #contagion #aliens #apocalypse #nighmare #virus

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thegreatantonchekhov · 4 years

Text

In Exile

By Anton Chekhov

Translated by Constance Garnett

“God created man to be alive, and to have joy and grief and sorrow; but you want nothing, so you are not alive, you are stone, clay! A stone wants nothing and you want nothing.”

OLD SEMYON, nicknamed Canny, and a young Tatar, whom no one knew by name, were sitting on the river-bank by the camp-fire; the other three ferrymen were in the hut. Semyon, an old man of sixty, lean and toothless, but broad shouldered and still healthy-looking, was drunk; he would have gone in to sleep long before, but he had a bottle in his pocket and he was afraid that the fellows in the hut would ask him for vodka. The Tatar was ill and weary, and wrapping himself up in his rags was describing how nice it was in the Simbirsk province, and what a beautiful and clever wife he had left behind at home. He was not more than twenty five, and now by the light of the camp-fire, with his pale and sick, mournful face, he looked like a boy.

“To be sure, it is not paradise here,” said Canny. “You can see for yourself, the water, the bare banks, clay, and nothing else.... Easter has long passed and yet there is ice on the river, and this morning there was snow. . .”

“It’s bad! it’s bad!” said the Tatar, and looked round him in terror.

The dark, cold river was flowing ten paces away; it grumbled, lapped against the hollow clay banks and raced on swiftly towards the far-away sea. Close to the bank there was the dark blur of a big barge, which the ferrymen called a “karbos.” Far away on the further bank, lights, dying down and flickering up again, zigzagged like little snakes; they were burning last year’s grass. And beyond the little snakes there was darkness again. There little icicles could be heard knocking against the barge It was damp and cold....

The Tatar glanced at the sky. There were as many stars as at home, and the same blackness all round, but something was lacking. At home in the Simbirsk province the stars were quite different, and so was the sky.

“It’s bad! it’s bad!” he repeated.

“You will get used to it,” said Semyon, and he laughed. “Now you are young and foolish, the milk is hardly dry on your lips, and it seems to you in your foolishness that you are more wretched than anyone; but the time will come when you will say to yourself: ‘I wish no one a better life than mine.’ You look at me. Within a week the floods will be over and we shall set up the ferry; you will all go wandering off about Siberia while I shall stay and shall begin going from bank to bank. I’ve been going like that for twenty-two years, day and night. The pike and the salmon are under the water while I am on the water. And thank God for it, I want nothing; God give everyone such a life.”

The Tatar threw some dry twigs on the camp-fire, lay down closer to the blaze, and said:

“My father is a sick man. When he dies my mother and wife will come here. They have promised.”

“And what do you want your wife and mother for?” asked Canny. “That’s mere foolishness, my lad. It’s the devil confounding you, damn his soul! Don’t you listen to him, the cursed one. Don’t let him have his way. He is at you about the women, but you spite him; say, ‘I don’t want them!’ He is on at you about freedom, but you stand up to him and say: ‘I don’t want it!’ I want nothing, neither father nor mother, nor wife, nor freedom, nor post, nor paddock; I want nothing, damn their souls!”

Semyon took a pull at the bottle and went on:

“I am not a simple peasant, not of the working class, but the son of a deacon, and when I was free I lived at Kursk; I used to wear a frockcoat, and now I have brought myself to such a pass that I can sleep naked on the ground and eat grass. And I wish no one a better life. I want nothing and I am afraid of nobody, and the way I look at it is that there is nobody richer and freer than I am. When they sent me here from Russia from the first day I stuck it out; I want nothing! The devil was at me about my wife and about my home and about freedom, but I told him: ‘I want nothing.’ I stuck to it, and here you see I live well, and I don’t complain, and if anyone gives way to the devil and listens to him, if but once, he is lost, there is no salvation for him: he is sunk in the bog to the crown of his head and will never get out.

“It is not only a foolish peasant like you, but even gentlemen, well-educated people, are lost. Fifteen years ago they sent a gentleman here from Russia. He hadn’t shared something with his brothers and had forged something in a will. They did say he was a prince or a baron, but maybe he was simply an official -- who knows? Well, the gentleman arrived here, and first thing he bought himself a house and land in Muhortinskoe. ‘I want to live by my own work,’ says he, ‘in the sweat of my brow, for I am not a gentleman now,’ says he, ‘but a settler.’ ‘Well,’ says I, ‘God help you, that’s the right thing.’ He was a young man then, busy and careful; he used to mow himself and catch fish and ride sixty miles on horseback. Only this is what happened: from the very first year he took to riding to Gyrino for the post; he used to stand on my ferry and sigh: ‘Ech, Semyon, how long it is since they sent me any money from home!’ ‘You don’t want money, Vassily Sergeyitch,’ says I. ‘What use is it to you? You cast away the past, and forget it as though it had never been at all, as though it had been a dream, and begin to live anew. Don’t listen to the devil,’ says I; ‘he will bring you to no good, he’ll draw you into a snare. Now you want money,’ says I, ‘ but in a very little while you’ll be wanting something else, and then more and more. If you want to be happy,’ says I, the chief thing is not to want anything. Yes.... If,’ says I, ‘if Fate has wronged you and me cruelly it’s no good asking for her favor and bowing down to her, but you despise her and laugh at her, or else she will laugh at you.’ That’s what I said to him....

“Two years later I ferried him across to this side, and he was rubbing his hands and laughing. ‘ I am going to Gyrino to meet my wife,’ says he. ‘She was sorry for me,’ says he; ‘she has come. She is good and kind.’ And he was breathless with joy. So a day later he came with his wife. A beautiful young lady in a hat; in her arms was a baby girl. And lots of luggage of all sorts. And my Vassily Sergeyitch was fussing round her; he couldn’t take his eyes off her and couldn’t say enough in praise of her. ‘Yes, brother Semyon, even in Siberia people can live!’ ‘Oh, all right,’ thinks I, ‘it will be a different tale presently.’ And from that time forward he went almost every week to inquire whether money had not come from Russia. He wanted a lot of money. ‘She is losing her youth and beauty here in Siberia for my sake,’ says he, ‘and sharing my bitter lot with me, and so I ought,’ says he, ‘to provide her with every comfort. . . .’

“To make it livelier for the lady he made acquaintance with the officials and all sorts of riff-raff. And of course he had to give food and drink to all that crew, and there had to be a piano and a shaggy lapdog on the sofa -- plague take it!... Luxury, in fact, self-indulgence. The lady did not stay with him long. How could she? The clay, the water, the cold, no vegetables for you, no fruit. All around you ignorant and drunken people and no sort of manners, and she was a spoilt lady from Petersburg or Moscow.... To be sure she moped. Besides, her husband, say what you like, was not a gentleman now, but a settler -- not the same rank.

“Three years later, I remember, on the eve of the Assumption, there was shouting from the further bank. I went over with the ferry, and what do I see but the lady, all wrapped up, and with her a young gentleman, an official. A sledge with three horses.... I ferried them across here, they got in and away like the wind. They were soon lost to sight. And towards morning Vassily Sergeyitch galloped down to the ferry. ‘Didn’t my wife come this way with a gentleman in spectacles, Semyon?’ ‘She did,’ said I; ‘you may look for the wind in the fields!’ He galloped in pursuit of them. For five days and nights he was riding after them. When I ferried him over to the other side afterwards, he flung himself on the ferry and beat his head on the boards of the ferry and howled. ‘So that’s how it is,’ says I. I laughed, and reminded him ‘people can live even in Siberia!’ And he beat his head harder than ever....

“Then he began longing for freedom. His wife had slipped off to Russia, and of course he was drawn there to see her and to get her away from her lover. And he took, my lad, to galloping almost every day, either to the post or the town to see the commanding officer; he kept sending in petitions for them to have mercy on him and let him go back home; and he used to say that he had spent some two hundred roubles on telegrams alone. He sold his land and mortgaged his house to the Jews. He grew gray and bent, and yellow in the face, as though he was in consumption. If he talked to you he would go, khee--khee--khee,. . . and there were tears in his eyes. He kept rushing about like this with petitions for eight years, but now he has grown brighter and more cheerful again: he has found another whim to give way to. You see, his daughter has grown up. He looks at her, and she is the apple of his eye. And to tell the truth she is all right, good-looking, with black eyebrows and a lively disposition. Every Sunday he used to ride with her to church in Gyrino. They used to stand on the ferry, side by side, she would laugh and he could not take his eyes off her. ‘Yes, Semyon,’ says he, ‘people can live even in Siberia. Even in Siberia there is happiness. Look,’ says he, ‘what a daughter I have got! I warrant you wouldn’t find another like her for a thousand versts round.’ ‘Your daughter is all right,’ says I, ‘that’s true, certainly.’ But to myself I thought: ‘Wait a bit, the wench is young, her blood is dancing, she wants to live, and there is no life here.’ And she did begin to pine, my lad.... She faded and faded, and now she can hardly crawl about. Consumption.

“So you see what Siberian happiness is, damn its soul! You see how people can live in Siberia.... He has taken to going from one doctor to another and taking them home with him. As soon as he hears that two or three hundred miles away there is a doctor or a sorcerer, he will drive to fetch him. A terrible lot of money he spent on doctors, and to my thinking he had better have spent the money on drink.... She’ll die just the same. She is certain to die, and then it will be all over with him. He’ll hang himself from grief or run away to Russia -- that’s a sure thing. He’ll run away and they’ll catch him, then he will be tried, sent to prison, he will have a taste of the lash. . . .”

“Good! good!” said the Tatar, shivering with cold.

“What is good?” asked Canny.

“His wife, his daughter.... What of prison and what of sorrow! -- anyway, he did see his wife and his daughter.... You say, want nothing. But ‘nothing’ is bad! His wife lived with him three years -- that was a gift from God. ‘Nothing’ is bad, but three years is good. How not understand?”

Shivering and hesitating, with effort picking out the Russian words of which he knew but few, the Tatar said that God forbid one should fall sick and die in a strange land, and be buried in the cold and dark earth; that if his wife came to him for one day, even for one hour, that for such happiness he would be ready to bear any suffering and to thank God. Better one day of happiness than nothing.

Then he described again what a beautiful and clever wife he had left at home. Then, clutching his head in both hands, he began crying and assuring Semyon that he was not guilty, and was suffering for nothing. His two brothers and an uncle had carried off a peasant’s horses, and had beaten the old man till he was half dead, and the commune had not judged fairly, but had contrived a sentence by which all the three brothers were sent to Siberia, while the uncle, a rich man, was left at home.

“You will get used to it!” said Semyon.

The Tatar was silent, and stared with tear-stained eyes at the fire; his face expressed bewilderment and fear, as though he still did not understand why he was here in the darkness and the wet, beside strangers, and not in the Simbirsk province.

Canny lay near the fire, chuckled at something, and began humming a song in an undertone.

“What joy has she with her father?” he said a little later. “He loves her and he rejoices in her, that’s true; but, mate, you must mind your ps and qs with him, he is a strict old man, a harsh old man. And young wenches don’t want strictness. They want petting and ha-ha-ha! and ho-ho-ho! and scent and pomade. Yes.... Ech! life, life,” sighed Semyon, and he got up heavily. “The vodka is all gone, so it is time to sleep. Eh? I am going, my lad. . . .”

Left alone, the Tatar put on more twigs, lay down and stared at the fire; he began thinking of his own village and of his wife. If his wife could only come for a month, for a day; and then if she liked she might go back again. Better a month or even a day than nothing. But if his wife kept her promise and came, what would he have to feed her on? Where could she live here?

“If there were not something to eat, how could she live?” the Tatar asked aloud.

He was paid only ten kopecks for working all day and all night at the oar; it is true that travelers gave him tips for tea and for vodkas but the men shared all they received among themselves, and gave nothing to the Tatar, but only laughed at him. And from poverty he was hungry, cold, and frightened.... Now, when his whole body was aching and shivering, he ought to go into the hut and lie down to sleep; but he had nothing to cover him there, and it was colder than on the river-bank; here he had nothing to cover him either, but at least he could make up the fire....

In another week, when the floods were quite over and they set the ferry going, none of the ferrymen but Semyon would be wanted, and the Tatar would begin going from village to village begging for alms and for work. His wife was only seventeen; she was beautiful, spoilt, and shy; could she possibly go from village to village begging alms with her face unveiled? No, it was terrible even to think of that....

It was already getting light; the barge, the bushes of willow on the water, and the waves could be clearly discerned, and if one looked round there was the steep clay slope; at the bottom of it the hut thatched with dingy brown straw, and the huts of the village lay clustered higher up. The cocks were already crowing in the village.

The rusty red clay slope, the barge, the river, the strange, unkind people, hunger, cold, illness, perhaps all that was not real. Most likely it was all a dream, thought the Tatar. He felt that he was asleep and heard his own snoring.... Of course he was at home in the Simbirsk province, and he had only to call his wife by name for her to answer; and in the next room was his mother.... What terrible dreams there are, though! What are they for? The Tatar smiled and opened his eyes. What river was this, the Volga?

Snow was falling.

“Boat!” was shouted on the further side. “Boat!”

The Tatar woke up, and went to wake his mates and row over to the other side. The ferrymen came on to the river-bank, putting on their torn sheepskins as they walked, swearing with voices husky from sleepiness and shivering from the cold. On waking from their sleep, the river, from which came a breath of piercing cold, seemed to strike them as revolting and horrible. They jumped into the barge without hurrying themselves.... The Tatar and the three ferrymen took the long, broad-bladed oars, which in the darkness looked like the claws of crabs; Semyon leaned his stomach against the tiller. The shout on the other side still continued, and two shots were fired from a revolver, probably with the idea that the ferrymen were asleep or had gone to the pot-house in the village.

“All right, you have plenty of time,” said Semyon in the tone of a man convinced that there was no necessity in this world to hurry -- that it would lead to nothing, anyway.

The heavy, clumsy barge moved away from the bank and floated between the willow-bushes, and only the willows slowly moving back showed that the barge was not standing still but moving. The ferrymen swung the oars evenly in time; Semyon lay with his stomach on the tiller and, describing a semicircle in the air, flew from one side to the other. In the darkness it looked as though the men were sitting on some antediluvian animal with long paws, and were moving on it through a cold, desolate land, the land of which one sometimes dreams in nightmares.

They passed beyond the willows and floated out into the open. The creak and regular splash of the oars was heard on the further shore, and a shout came: “Make haste! make haste!”

Another ten minutes passed, and the barge banged heavily against the landing-stage.

“And it keeps sprinkling and sprinkling,” muttered Semyon, wiping the snow from his face; “and where it all comes from God only knows.”

On the bank stood a thin man of medium height in a jacket lined with fox fur and in a white lambskin cap. He was standing at a little distance from his horses and not moving; he had a gloomy, concentrated expression, as though he were trying to remember something and angry with his untrustworthy memory. When Semyon went up to him and took off his cap, smiling, he said:

“I am hastening to Anastasyevka. My daughter’s worse again, and they say that there is a new doctor at Anastasyevka.”

They dragged the carriage on to the barge and floated back. The man whom Semyon addressed as Vassily Sergeyitch stood all the time motionless, tightly compressing his thick lips and staring off into space; when his coachman asked permission to smoke in his presence he made no answer, as though he had not heard. Semyon, lying with his stomach on the tiller, looked mockingly at him and said:

“Even in Siberia people can live -- can li-ive!”

There was a triumphant expression on Canny’s face, as though he had proved something and was delighted that things had happened as he had foretold. The unhappy helplessness of the man in the foxskin coat evidently afforded him great pleasure.

“It’s muddy driving now, Vassily Sergeyitch,” he said when the horses were harnessed again on the bank. “You should have put off going for another fortnight, when it will be drier. Or else not have gone at all.... If any good would come of your going -- but as you know yourself, people have been driving about for years and years, day and night, and it’s alway’s been no use. That’s the truth.”

Vassily Sergeyitch tipped him without a word, got into his carriage and drove off.

“There, he has galloped off for a doctor!” said Semyon, shrinking from the cold. “But looking for a good doctor is like chasing the wind in the fields or catching the devil by the tail, plague take your soul! What a queer chap, Lord forgive me a sinner!”

The Tatar went up to Canny, and, looking at him with hatred and repulsion, shivering, and mixing Tatar words with his broken Russian, said: “He is good... good; but you are bad! You are bad! The gentleman is a good soul, excellent, and you are a beast, bad! The gentleman is alive, but you are a dead carcass.... God created man to be alive, and to have joy and grief and sorrow; but you want nothing, so you are not alive, you are stone, clay! A stone wants nothing and you want nothing. You are a stone, and God does not love you, but He loves the gentleman!”

Everyone laughed; the Tatar frowned contemptuously, and with a wave of his hand wrapped himself in his rags and went to the campfire. The ferrymen and Semyon sauntered to the hut.

“It’s cold,” said one ferryman huskily as he stretched himself on the straw with which the damp clay floor was covered.

“Yes, its not warm,” another assented. “It’s a dog’s life. . . .”

They all lay down. The door was thrown open by the wind and the snow drifted into the hut; nobody felt inclined to get up and shut the door: they were cold, and it was too much trouble.

“I am all right,” said Semyon as he began to doze. “I wouldn’t wish anyone a better life.”

“You are a tough one, we all know. Even the devils won’t take you!”

Sounds like a dog’s howling came from outside.

“What’s that? Who’s there?”

“It’s the Tatar crying.”

“I say.... He’s a queer one!”

“He’ll get u-used to it!” said Semyon, and at once fell asleep.

The others were soon asleep too. The door remained unclosed.

NOTES

Tatar: an ethnic group of Turkic-speaking, traditionally Moslem people

karbos: a large rowed ferry boat with 4 to 10 oars

commune had not judged fairly: a village commune, mir, had the right to exile any lawbreakers to Siberia

#Chekhov

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jojoreadwhat · 4 years

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you're all in my hands tonight, tonight I'm a rock 'n' roll star. / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Four Days Later, On A Friday.

Matty's POV

Computer Education had already given me a sour taste in my mouth and I only sat through two of its lectures. One because I knew majority of what was listed on the slides Professor Nolan was scheming through. I really had no explanation why I applied at UNI in the first place. I had high hopes that the tapes the boys and I sent into Capital Records would hit a soft spot. Sending us on a one way trip to success, where none of these qualifications would matter as long as I wrote out the music.

Then again if it all went down hill where I'd arrive at my flat with a box of tapes with the word 'denied' repeatedly stamped over it like fragile, even though my heart would be the fragile piece in that box. It would open the door behind the scene, the little paper of a degree with my name. A ticket of being able to tweak the shitty tunes on the radio that replayed like the TV movies do on Sundays.

Two, Professor Nolan was a bit of a drag. A fine dapper looking gentlemen in his early fifties. His hair slick back dirty blonde with what looked like emerald eyes the last time I stood close. A close shaved beard that extenuated his sharp jaw line. Dressed to the nines that if you seen him on the streets, you would've thought he had millions and a white collar type business. Even though, his Gucci navy suit that my father had exactly and bought for fifteen hundred dollars could make you believe he sat on a green mountain of dollar signs.

I felt his personality and aura resembled a present me. Barely in tune with all the new things happening but completely in tune with the young ladies that gave any advantages to pass. But in his case the young ladies could pass as daughters if the sucker had any.

"Open Audio Access on your laptops." He commanded, changing the slides that was accompanied with taps and clicks from everyone following along. I sighed to myself, everything that was on those poorly designed boards. I had edited and achieved on a new track the boys and I had recorded last night.

I slouched back in my seat, listening to Nolan's cocky Mr. Know-It-All demeanor. His degrees decorating the back of his desk fact it in that he knew more. Only giving him the approval of having Professor in front of Nolan instead of Mister.

After commenting on Mindy's plaid skirt, Professor Feast-A-Lot finally dismissed us.

I still had a class within the hour, just some simple music class that I signed up for the laughing matter. Always stating my answers to bands I drowned myself in as the other students wanted to cuss me out. Sighing to themselves, like that mop got the spill of answers.

With the time I had between I decided to get some coffee. The tea I had earlier with George talking about his night wasn't living up to it's strong expectations. Even though the class I just left could stand as a contender of an explanation.

I walked with the rush of the hundreds in the halls, making my way to left wing lounge and turning the corner of muraled up wall, covered in vibrant flowers and weird shapes from the art program.

Waiting at the counter I turned to scan the little lounge, just many studying with their textbooks as heads. Some talking to another. Just the common vibe of any little coffee shop you stepped your foot into.

One of them sticking out like a sore thumb.

Lucy.

Writing in her leather bound journal that rested on her crossed legs, playing with the slight tear in her in the hem of her playful colored dress.

Relaxed and looking out the window on the purple wing-back in the cafe lounge. Watching the shades of orange, red and yellow converse against the blue sky. Admiring her side profile, a high cheek bone with a light dusting of blush against her milky skin, her perfectly rounded jaw. Her lashes curled with a coding of mascara that complimented her baby blues.

I watched as she grazed her bottom rosy lip with the back of her pen in thought.

The red headed barista asked for the second time what I wanted before realizing that she was even speaking. Finding it hard to take my eyes off the scenery near the window. I ordered my black coffee, then pointed out Lucy who looked disappointed in the last drops of her cup. Dark roast, light with vanilla, sugar and two shots of the sleep she had lost the night before.

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

Lucy's POV.

I was finding myself becoming a frequent patient with my therapeutic glances of the vibrant trees and the sounds of the espresso machine. Sitting in the same wingback, looking about the window, stuck in what I was going to jot in my journal next. My first week of being in London and enduring classes was wrapping up, nothing worthy had happened yet to write about and I was finding myself running around a writer's block.

As much as I wanted my creative juices to keep blending. I couldn't complain about how things were going. University has been so far treating me well. I've met a good handful of my professors in Week A, many have taken a liking to me which I couldn't quite grasp. But it wasn't a bad feeling to know about, plus Professor Jones really liked my thesis of A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. Putting a good word into the librarian of the Uni's library and landing me a interview for Monday.

Things at the university housing with Liz and Abby was going pretty well too. I was growing more fond of them by the minute, both interested in the same type of books, music and films. Liz was a bit realistic and logic about life, which kind of put a damper on things if you were trying to live in a fantasy world with reality biting you in the ass. Then Abby was more free spirited and self aware of what made an individual very much happy, even when the world was not so happy.

Then lastly, home. I finally Skyped my brother Eric and my dad. It was early for them but quite late for me. But in all I was mixed with emotions, both joyful and sad that I wasn't home. They are doing well so far.

I sighed to myself, resting my leather bound on my lap and retreating my blue eyes to the shades of orange, red and yellow. Reaching for the coffee I had finished moments ago, but reluctant to get up and grab another.

But that was before one was brought to me instead. By another thing that I had happened to come across this week.

"Am I intruding?" The English native that I met my first night here had greeted, handing me the warm paper cup with pretty botanical flowers repeated. I shook my head, gesturing my free hand to the wingback across.

Matty sat down, folding his long legs over one another. His eyes meeting mine, smiling softly as his mouth indulged in a sip. Giving me a few moments to admire before another word.

He wasn't wearing his glasses today but his hair was the same as the night I met him. Pulled back into a bun with loose curls shaping out his face. My eyes leading down to his lined out jaw. His collarbones, the tattoo that always made an appearance no matter what type of shirt he wore this week. To the lasting hole over his knee.

I was broken from my stare when he had chuckled, possibly figuring out that I was staring long.

"Anything new?" He asked, his eyes gesturing to my open leather bound. I shook my head, slowly closing it against my knee before my eyes met his again.

He looked at me surprised and in disbelief, "So the storyteller doesn't have a story to tell?" He questioned, resting his cup on the table aside us. I shrugged, it was truly hard to believe but as my mind moved fast the world outside of it didn't and I was at a stand still.

"It just been classes, reading and then some." I finished, finally taking a sip of my coffee.

Matty smiled at me again, a smile I could watch curl at the ends of his mouth like a favorite part to a movie. "We may have to change that." He said, looking at me with tricks under his sleeves and me swimming in his over sized sweater.

I had to cut my coffee break short when I realized I had time run to my next class, Woman Studies.

Shortly becoming my favorite class as we debated fundamental rights and she played Kathleen Hanna fronted Bikini Kill winning my anarchy heart.

"Don't forget to read The Second Sex and please have your reasoning's sent in by 12 AM on Monday." She dismissed. I followed suit with the rest of the class as I packed away my things for the weekend.

Making my way to the hall to get lost in the hundred of others trying to head out and not miss the next Tube coming by. The boy in a leather jacket that I was sharing a coffee with an hour earlier was leaning against the wall next to the door.

His devious smirk gracing upon his face, "I'm feeling like you're onto something." I commented, a small smile plastering across my cheeks. Matty rippled a contagious laugh that I could listen to like an album on my turntable.

"Can't a gentleman just walk a lady home safely?" He remarked.

"No! That's a lie!" I laughed, hitting Matty's forearm lightly. We had moved onto music since Matty offered to walk me home. And let's just say we had a few differences.

Matty loved older music, which I did too. But I found Prince to be a bit cooler than MJ. Which didn't sit well with Matty. "Have you heard the magic in Rock With You?" He mentioned, "It's fucking legendary!" It was so funny to see him go off, but I never said I didn't like the man! I knew how the sounds had your hips moving. I was just a Purple Rain kind of girl.

Matty stood in front of me, walking backwards down the sidewalk.

Girl. Close your eyes... He began singing, moving his hips to the beats that played out in his head. Taking my hand, and pulling me close.

Let that rhythm get into you, don't try to fight it. Placing one hand above my hip, the other still in mine. Directing my hips into a sway, as his voice hit me like sweet serenity.

He went on, and I was enjoying every bit of it. Music was his muse like books were mine and he wasn't ashamed to show it. His hips showing that he never stopped moving either.

We had arrived to the front of my flat, Matty belting more songs of MJ.

"I have to get in," I mentioned, not really wanting to do so. Matty's lips kept moving "Not until you change your mind." Singing in the measures of Don't Stop Till You Get Enough.

I chuckled, still dancing with him till I finally caved in. "Alright, Michael Jackson is better." I confessed, meaning every word that fell from my mouth. He just chuckled, pulling me closer and bringing his lips to my ear.

"I think you're lying" his warm breath grazing my lobe. Sending chills down my spine. I went to protest when Liz and Abby got out of their car. Interrupting our manifest. They just softly smiled, saying Hello before retreating up the porch. I looked up at Matty, who still had his hand around my waist.

Matty pulled away with a soft but questionable expression on his face. I wondered what was on his mind.

"Come watch us play tonight." He said, "The boys and I are playing at the bar George's bartends in. I'd like to see you there."

Many different excuses ran through my mind. Studying, catching some sleep, watching the same three episodes of The Office, outline my far along memoir that would be a flop. Just a rush of things that could've fallen from my mouth.

"Alright, sounds like fun." Happened to be the better option.

Matty's smirk turn a bit shy, looking to the ground before he looked back up at me.

"I'll pick you up at 6?" He questioned, I nodded. Still confused on why I was agreeing to this extravaganza in the first place. A smile gracing his face once more before turning on his Vans to head back to where his road led him.

"See you soon, Blue."

#the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy imagines #slutforbritdick #wattpadarchives

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daemongal · 5 years

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Hey anon! You’re so sweet for saying that thank you! Luckily I don’t have a particular type of reader insert, I just kind of go for what feels right for each insert :3

Ok, so for some reason I saw this request and just had to write it. It feels like you’re asking something really personal of me and it just gave me some feels.

I just need to say as a disclaimer that I myself am not ace so please don’t assume this is from personal experience. I may be making some generalisations as I know it is on a sliding scale but I thought for the sake of the fic I would depict the reader a certain way so I hope this is ok!

I may have self indulged a little too much but I decided to make this super smoft because I like to think that Dante can be a total sweetheart! Hope you enjoy and thank you for the request! (Cut inserted for length)

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You sat on the sofa playing with your hands, tension heavy in your shoulders as Dante pulled you closer to him, arm over your shoulders holding you tight.

You had been dating Dante for a few weeks now, enjoying every moment of his company. Whether it was his stupid jokes, his childish behaviour or the way he so observantly adhered to your invisible boundaries. You wouldn’t say anything was official between you both, although it was becoming more and more clear that you both liked each other quite a lot.

Dante never pushed you towards anything you weren’t comfortable with. The first time he wanted to hold your hand, he held his out for you to take. The first time he held you in his arms, he invited you towards him on your own terms, rather than wrapping his arms around you like so many others had without warning. As for kisses, the only place he had planted them so far was on the top of your head.

You were happy to be where you were now, in his arms quietly watching some cheap horror flick, pressing your head against his chest and focusing more on his heartbeat than what was happening on the screen. You knew you needed to tell him, because you knew it would be make-or-break and you’d lost too many people from supposedly leading them on.

“Hey.” Dante’s voice broke you from your thoughts. “Somethin eating you babe? You seem real tense; movie’s not to scary for ya is it?” You smiled up and him and flicked the tip of his nose.

“No, don’t be silly. This is just... nice. Us being like this.” You wanted to stay here in his arms, in this moment; so comfortable and warm and safe. You knew he would never try to do anything without you being totally comfortable first but you knew he would have an expectation, that his mind would be wandering to what happens when the movie ends.

“Normally when people are enjoying themselves, they aren’t stiff as a board. Seriously though; if there’s something wrong you can tell me, you know that.” He planted another soft kiss against the top of your head, the motion causing you to melt into his embrace as you let out a long sigh.

“Look it’s just... I don’t know what you expect of me. I... really like you, Dante. I don’t want to scare you away but I can’t keep this from you.” He squeezed his shoulder with his hand reassuringly.

“Honestly babe, short of you unzipping your skin to reveal you were actually a demon in disguise all along, nothing’s gonna scare me away. Hell, I'd maybe even be able to compromise on the whole demon thing, if it was you.” You couldn’t help but smile at his kind words, pressing your face into him further.

“But what if... this was it? What we’re doing now, if this was... as far as we’d ever go; that this is... as close as I’m capable of being with someone before.... before my stomach does flips, and not the good kind.” You felt Dante’s chest rumble beneath your cheek as you squinted your eyes shut, turning your head to avoid his gaze.

“So that’s what’s been bothering you. Look, you can keep your eyes to the floor because I’m gonna say some stuff to you now that’s gonna embarrass the shit out of me because this is not something I do often.” He took a deep breath as he gathered his thoughts.

“I’ve been young once, okay. I’ve done plenty in my youth, and even in my not-so-youth, stuff that would make even the most sexually experienced person cringe. My bucket list has been cut down and down throughout my life, and now here I am; still doing the same shit 20 odd years later and wondering why the last box on my list hasn’t been ticked. That was, until I met you.” Your breath hitched in your throat, as your hand gripped his coat for purchase.

“I’ve had more than enough experiences for one lifetime and, to be honest, I ain’t no spring chicken anymore. The only thing I want to do with another person now is... settle down. Live out the rest of my stupidly crazy life with a bit of stability in it. Having someone here for when I come home, someone to worry about me when I’m away. I want that relationship to truly mean something, to have feeling behind it, to have... love.” You sniffed quietly as your eyes started to fill up, his words cutting deep into you. He took a moments pause as you felt him shuffle his body beneath you.

“Look, what I’m trying to say is I really like you and... I’m perfectly happy never taking this any further than what your comfortable with if it means I get to be with you. I’ve... never met anyone else like you and I probably never will again. Your company and the fact that you choose to be with me is more important to me than anything physical. I can still hold you like this,” he wrapped his other arm around you and held you tight, “and kiss you like this,” he planted another kiss against your hair, “and talk to you like this; and that’s all that matters.” He swallowed and cleared his throat.

“Sorry, I’m really not good at this whole, talking about feelings shit but I feel like you deserve at least this honesty from me considering how hard it must have been for you to open up to me. Basically, don’t worry; I’m going nowhere babe.” You gripped his coat tightly as the tears fell freely from your eyes now.

You never expected him to be so okay with this, it’s not like you were ignorant to his past exploits, which made you even more nervous about opening up to him; but it just made his acceptance all the more meaningful. You felt his hand in your hair, gently stroking through the locks as you tried to regain your composure.

“You’re too good for me you know.” You managed to mumble through the sniffles and slight hiccups.

“Aww I wouldn’t go that far babe. Honestly, as much as I big myself up, I know I’m far from perfect, but don’t ever repeat that to anyone.” You chuckled lightly at his defensive response.

“You’re as close as I could have ever hoped for.” You wiped the tears from your face before sitting up and looking into his eyes. You smiled at the slight blush he had on his cheeks as he averted your gaze, scratching the back of his neck.

You placed a hand in his hair, lightly rubbing his scalp and enjoying the feeling of his locks between your fingers. You swallowed before placing your other hand on his cheek.

You leaned towards him, inching closer and closer to his face before planting your lips softly on his cheek. You lingered there a few seconds, the feeling of his stubble against your skin being more pleasant that you had expected.

You sat back with a smile on your face as Dante’s hand brushed against the spot you had kissed, holding his cheek as if to catch something that might fly away. You laughed lightly through your nose. His hand reached to your cheek cupping it lightly, emulating your earlier action.

“May I?” He asked gently brushing his thumb against your skin. You nodded in response as he leaned towards your face. Your breath hitched in your throat as his lips touched your cheek, his stubble tickling against your skin as you unconsciously leaned into the contact.

His lips left a comfortable tingle against your skin as he pulled you into a warm embrace, cupping your head with his hand and nuzzling his face against you.

“I guess... this makes us an item then?” You asked gingerly, body relaxing into his hold.

“Mmmm, I thought we already were. Wait, didn’t you?” You reached up and roughly scuffed his hair with both your hands.

“You never asked?! How was I meant to know?”

“I always thought actions spoke louder than words!” He pulled your hands from his head before intertwining his fingers with your own, quickly stealing another peck on the cheek.

“Just promise me one thing ok? You gotta talk to me, tell me if I’m going too far or if I do something you’re not comfortable with. I don’t want to make a stupid mistake and send you running. Deal?” You smiled once more, leaning forward to press your face against his chest.

“Deal.”

#anon #ask #request #ace!reader #dante x reader #dante #dmc #devil may cry #fluff #smoft #i'm warm and fuzzy now #:3

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aurora-the-kunoichi · 5 years

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A Year Without - Part Four

Warning: Blood and slight smut

With no windows or clock on the wall you had no idea how much time had passed since you were left alone crying and broken. Your wrists and ankles were sore and tingling from the restricted blood flow. You hoped there wouldn’t be lasting damage to your nerve endings. The foul smear Karai had left of your cheek had dried long ago making your skin itch. Then the thought of the other turtles came to mind, how long before Raph, Mikey and Don realized you were missing? You usually came down to the lair almost every day but there had been times you didn’t show up for a few days being busy with work.

Did you even want them to find you? If they came looking for you, they could be captured and end up just like Leo and then SHE would have the complete set of mutant turtles. She would have them and their unique set of skills at her disposal and that would spell disaster for the city. A croaking sob broke free at the sobering thought. You wouldn’t let that happen not if you had breath in your body.

You had searched the room thoroughly looking for any way to escape, but besides the chair and metal table there no other useful items. You had been trying to work the rope hoping it would start to fray but as of right now there was no such luck. You had to wait until an opportunity presented itself. You were far from helpless but nowhere near the skill of the guys either. They had been training you and that’s how you fell in love with Leo.

As the time slowly ticked by, fatigue started to creep up on your weary body. You were emotional drained, and the stress of today’s events started to take hold. Your eyes started to droop, and your body began to give way to the darkness of exhausted slumber. The room blurred and blackened the edges of your vision and slowly you finally gave in falling deep into sleeps clutches.

The rustling of fabric alerted you to a presence in your room. Blinking yourself awake your eyes tried focusing in on your unwanted guest. As the dark blur in the corner started to come clear you felt your chest tighten and your heart hammer into your chest. There sprawled out on the large chair in the corner was Leonardo, tight dense legs spread wide stroking his cock over the material of his pants. His feet were bare and was unarmed, dressed in what seemed to be soft black cotton sleeping pants. Leo’s dull eyes were hooded and his mouth agape vocalizing his self-indulgent pleasure, the sight alone made your treasonous body ache with need.

“Leo?” the words flew from your mouth on instinct and you scolded yourself on being so eager to see him here alone with you. Without Karai and her alluring whims.

Now aware of your consciousness Leo rose from his perch and crossed the room in only a few strides of his long legs. Leonardo stopped a few inches from you his eyes dragging over your restrained form his intentions still unknown. Leaned into your personal space he took a long pull of your scent as his hand still working his apparent erection through his pants. You heard the moister pop on his lips when they parted and shivered unintentionally when the hot breath of his mouth cascaded down the exposed column of your throat. “Why do you smell so good to me and why can’t I get you out of my head?” his voice was raspy and decadent erecting goose bumps along your skin. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He continued his lips brushing up against your ear. “I couldn’t cum inside Karai until I looked up and imagined it was you beneath me. I’ve never had that problem before.”

You tried not to let his presence affect you, this wasn’t your Leo, this was someone dangerous and calculating, a new enemy to fear. “That’s because you were mine and I was yours before you were captured, and your brain rewired a new ago. We looked for you, mourned for you and never gave up. When I was taken, I was on the roof you disappeared on, something told me to go there.” You growled your displeasure snapping your binds again.

His tongue clicked in the back of his throat and the large terrapin griped your wrist examining your overly tight restraints. Green fingertips dug under the taut ropes loosening them just enough to relieve the crippling pressure. Deliberately slow the terrapin moved to each of your limbs to repeat the gesture allowing the blood to flow properly to your extremities. Kneeing down his hands took extra care with your ankles and paused just between your legs. You watched his tongue dart out to moisten his lips and gasped as his expansive hands glided leisurely up your calves to the back of your knees. There, the tips of his fingers pressed into the back of your thighs groping and massaging the toned muscles before continuing up your legs.

“W-what are you doing?”

His hands ceased their ascent at your words and hummed rising back to his full height towering over you.

“I wouldn’t recommend doing that again with your restraints. That will be the only time I assist you.”

“Why did you do it in the first place? You could have let me suffer?”

A rumbling laugher left his chest as Leo stepped forward pressing his hard body into yours. You could feel the still ridged outline of his cock digging into your inner thigh. He rocked his hips forward gaining a bit of friction and slid his arm around your waist. “I don’t want you to lose those fingers; I might require their assistance later.” And with that Leo stepped back out of your personal space and exited the room leaving you alone and burning from his touch.

The next several hours were long and arduous, they had sent in three guards to assist you to use the rest room, well pissing in a bucket was more accurate. At least they didn’t make you soil yourself in shame. But that was the existent of their generosity, by the loud rumbling of your stomach and the dessert that lay within your mouth it had been a substantial amount of time since you had consumed any nourishment. The food you could technically live without for a few days but water, your body needed hydration. The back of your skull was beginning to throb and nausea had set it making you a miserable mess.

You tried to sleep to pass the time, you were going stir crazy, and no one came or went for hours accept when you hollered to use the bucket. But even that was becoming far and few between with your dehydration. Eventually your body relented and you nodded off into blissful dreamless sleep, but it was short lived when the door to your room slammed open and Karai stomped in pulling a smirking Leonardo in after her.

“What did you do to him?” she growled menacingly at you as her fingers hooked into his waist band shaking his hips with vigor.

Confused and slightly amused by her current state of frustration you tilted your head in question looking at your arms and legs. “Um… I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about? If you have forgotten already I’ve been lock up in this makeshift cell for god knows how long. How could I have done anything to your new mindless plaything?”

Shoving him away forcefully Karai stomped over to you. “He won’t get hard for me anymore! I want him to fuck me and he can’t get that fucking hammer to perform! Just, just watch!” She curled her finger beckoning him over and the muscle bound terrapin obliged without hesitation.

Immediately Karai sunk to her knees and swiftly undid his belt and pants and true to her word his shaft lay limp at a wet noodle. Her fingers sought out the base of his manhood and started to stimulate it but it refused to cooperate. Frustrated air shot forth from her nose and her lips enclosed around the bulbous head and sucked him into the warm cavern of her mouth. Sloppy suction sounds and slurps made the desperate spectacle more amusing. Even her shitty blowjob couldn’t get him aroused. Now it was your turn to laugh, a deep gut wrenching laughter that echoed throughout the room. “Serves you right you manipulative bitch!” another cackle flew from your lips but was quickly silenced by a brutal punch from the angered kunoichi. Every ounce of oxygen was expelled from your lungs and you started gasping to replenish what you lost.

For being as small as she was, Karai could land a hit with the best of them. Fury raged in her beautiful green eyes as she rose to address you. Her hand found your hair and yanked snapping your head back in a painful angle. Without you knowing she had pulled her blade free and slid the razor sharp metal along your throat slicing your tender flesh open.

You let out a startled yep as the pain lanced through your body and felt the hot flood of your own blood ooze down your neck. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Leo twitch and take a tentative step towards you, eyes concentrating on the oozing fresh wound on your neck. You couldn’t tell how deep she had cut only that it hurt like hell and the whole right side of your neck was now warm and sticky.

“You’re lucky you’re still useful to me you stupid cunt!” she hissed in your ear. “The other turtles will come looking for you eventually. Yes I know about the tracker in your arm, very clever of Donatello but his genius will lead them all into a trap and when they do I’ll have them all. I can’t wait to see if the rest of them are just as good in the sack as their leader? I can only imagine the size of the cock on Raphael, I’m sure it will be gloriously painful.” Then without warning Karai surged forward and look a long board lick of your pooling blood. Her eyes closed and savored the taste licking the unconsumed droplets of the crimson liquid from the sides of her mouth.

When her legs ground together and moaned it was a sign she was getting off on the taste of your blood, it made you sick to your stomach but when she turned to Leonardo and pulled him down for a searing kiss you couldn’t help the whimper that made its way from your lungs.

His mouth worked feverously over hers the crimson color smearing over their lips while allowing her hand to dip once again down his plastron to gather his cock in her hands. A growl erupted from his chest when Karai began to yank on the appendage that still refused to thicken with arousal.

“God damnit!” her mouth ripped from his and stormed from the room leaving him alone with you still exposed and swinging heavily to the cool air.

You were beginning to feel woozy from blood loss and the throb in the back of your skull intensified ten fold. Leo waivered a bit adjusting his weight between his two feet before reaching into his pocket and pulled a rag from the depths. Pressing down on your open wound Leo started to wipe the thick blood from your skin.

“I need to kill you.” He whispered darkly into your ear as his warm tongue swirling against your earlobe. “If I don’t I’ll never please my mistress again and I won’t be able to if I can only get hard for you.”

When something brushed against your leg your lungs quit working. Slowly your eyes cast down to Leonardo’s erect cock seeping pearlescent droplets of precum from the pulsating helm.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

@imthegreenfairy88 @southernblossoms @blossom-skies @moonlightflower21

@naturigurl

#TMNT #tmnt leonardo #Foot leo #A Year Without #Part Four

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