#someone shoot me into space so i can blow up the moon

[theopteryx]

#critical role #shadowgast #the mighty nein #caleb x essek #essek x caleb #essek thelyss #caleb widowgast #critical role fanart #i still got it bad for these wizards!! #tiny touches!! #tiny moves closer to one another!! #tiny intentional steps away from what drove them before and towards a better future!! #someone shoot me into space so i can blow up the moon #anyway the moment in the original campaign #where essek called them his friends #right in the middle of them realizing he was a traitor #rewired my brain for all time #1k

[chimielie]

yeah, you might want me to drop dead (but i don't even care)

summary: Atsumu x F!Reader. atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: he thinks you're hot when you're angry. you would categorize your relationship with atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane. 

word count: 2k

cw: miya atsumu's degradation kink (it's still sfw he's just not subtle), suggestive at the end

a/n: another resurrected fic from the drafts. walk him like a dog, bitch, walk him like a dog

Miya Atsumu was a player known for his thirst for blood. Like his brother, who termed the all-consuming need to dominate their opponent hunger, he relished in complete fucking annihilation. He was hardly soft off the court, too: few of his peers could withstand his cutting humor, his teammates couldn’t understand how he hadn’t scared off his fan club, and he had crushed a few hearts beneath his heel in his time.

He’d met his match in the natural enemy of heartbreakers: his university’s resident maneater.

“Hey!” Atsumu calls your name, lengthening his stride to catch up to you. You grimace—he can barely see your side profile now, but oh, you’re slowing down so he can catch up. Unusually considerate.

Oh, no, there’s just a clog in the artery of the crowded hallway, halting your escape.

“Hi,” he sing-songs, stretching the word out several extra syllables. 

“Good morning, Atsumu,” you say tightly, drawing up your shoulders so your arm won’t brush his bicep in the limited space. “I was hoping you’d died, since you weren’t in lecture this morning. Better yet, maybe someone buried you alive last night and you hadn’t dug your way out yet.”

“You went with the option that doesn’t kill me! You care,” he says happily, and takes a moment to bask in it. “I was actually at a volleyball game, you should come to one sometime, I’m pretty good at it—”

“I’d rather walk in traffic, ‘Tsumu,” you shoot him a wide smile that makes his knees feel weak and wobbly and shove your way straight through the crowd of people, leaving only an uncaring ‘Scuse me! in your wake. 

A lot of people would categorize your relationship with Atsumu as complicated. Atsumu is not one of those people.

Atsumu would categorize your relationship like this: many moons ago, you and he had been in a few of the same classes and shared some mutual friends—mere acquaintances. He hadn’t known you very well. In fact, he’d thought you were cute, which he now knows you aren’t. A few minor catastrophes he wasn’t privy to later, you had come to verbal blows with some loser in the middle of the quad. You’d later found it rather embarrassing. Watching you eviscerate him, though, Atsumu had experienced a fear like never before. If he was bloodthirsty, you bathed in ichor. 

He would always remember the look on your face as you dealt the final blow and turned away, walking with a straight back right toward him.

Atsumu, who had never seen anything quite like the look of controlled rage on your face as you took that man apart. Who wasn’t sure why the sound of you doing your damnedest to instigate a fight made him shiver despite being all too warm inside. Who was looking up at you from his seat like a puppy, desperate to see you don your war paint again.

You walked past him, because of course you did. You weren’t pulled by the same magnetic force he was, focused on him like he was suddenly fixated on you. You were barely acquainted with him and obviously going to your friends for moral support and ice cream and whatever it was people did after one of them basically tarred and feathered someone in the town square. He was merely a bystander along the path you strode.

Of course, the very action of totally ignoring his existence cinched it: he was hooked.

You would categorize your relationship with Atsumu like this: he had woken up one day and decided to drive you out of your fucking mind insane. 

You’d tried to ignore him. He was persistent, though, and he just pushed and pushed and pushed until he crossed the line. It was exhausting.

Except that you kind of loved fighting with him.

You couldn’t help the adrenaline rush it gave you, the way he seemed to light a fire inside you no one else could and keep it burning hot. It was almost like a release to debate him, the way some people boxed or listened to heavy metal to destress. The feeling of victory never failed to put a sparkle in your eye and a cocky smirk on your lips; sometimes, you felt like he was stepping back and letting you win.

This continued in perfectly pleasant vicious and sometimes bloody antagonism for the course of forever until a few months ago, when Atsumu had begun the new and inimitable torture of flirting with you. It was horrible and it was weird and you had no idea what kind of mind game he was playing, but you certainly intended to find out. 

Atsumu, for his part, had recently realized that he likes it when you smile so much more than when you scowl. He likes it when you flutter your lashes instead of staring flatly into his soul, hoping to yank it out and set it aflame. He likes it when you say nice things to him, which has only happened once, but was very nearly a second sexual awakening and thus monumental.

He does not like it when other men flirt with you.

“Your pencil is broken,” Osamu notes, glancing down at his brother’s clenched fist. “You’ll get splinters.”

“What? Oh,” says Atsumu distractedly. “Yeah, I’ll do it later.”

Your laugh rings across the library, the warm glow of a fireplace instead of the burning fires of hell you share with Atsumu. His grip slackens, and his twin takes the opportunity to prise the pulverized writing utensil out of his hand. This kindness goes unnoticed as the guy, that’s how Atsumu’s thinking the word in his mind, low and mocking, guy, says something to you that makes him instinctively kick Osamu in the shin.

“Ow! Douchebag!”

“Sorry, reflex,” Atsumu apologizes.

“Do you want to go with me?” Asks the dickhead you’re talking to.

“To ice cream? Sure,” you reply, and you don’t even sound like you’re being sarcastic. What the fuck? There’s a long pause while the jagoff scuffs his shoe against the floor, a red flush coming over his face while you stare slightly past him with your trademark stare. But your lips are slightly turned up.

The expression haunts Atsumu on his walk back. Your smile was so pretty, sweet and soft. You never smile at him except mockingly. 

“At the risk of sounding like I care,” Suna says. “Are you okay?” 

“If I killed someone, would you help me get rid of the body?” Atsumu says, staring straight ahead.

“No,” Osamu says, “he’s finding out about human emotions and he’s coping very badly.”

Atsumu is ignoring you. As quickly as his interest (his desire to piss you off) had flared up, it had disappeared seemingly overnight, which was fine for you. It was great! You had booted the most annoying man in the world out of your life and replaced him with a perfectly nice guy. Your life was coming up roses.

Except it was driving you insane. You had your phone out, held an inch below your desk, leaving the perfectly nice guy (what was his name? You hadn’t saved it in your contacts and you weren’t sure why) on read as you stared across the room at the faux-blond.

He was chattering to another boy who looked bemused and patient; probably another volleyball player. You were half-convinced this was part two of his ploy to get under your skin; he was playing the unpredictable game.

As you try to bore a hole in his brain with your eyes, you see him glance back at you for a second, just a second, and that’s it. You slam your palms down on the desk, shooting up from your seat, trying not to make eye contact when a few other students turn and look at you because of the noise. He still won’t look directly at you as you make your way to his seat.

“I just remembered I have to leave,” says Atsumu’s friend—Aran, not that you care what his friends are called—picking up his bag. “I have to go be anywhere else right now.”

“What,” Atsumu whines as he books it away from the two of you. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yeah,” you snap, folding your arms in front of your chest. You’re not sure why you’re so angry, just at the look of his melting chocolate eyes and hunched shoulders and pouty lips. Ugh. He’s the worst. “You’re avoiding me. Why.” The question sounds more like a sentence or maybe a threat.

“I’m not doing that,” he defends weakly. “Maybe I just got tired of looking at your face.”

“My face is fucking precious, okay,” you argue, “you should want to look at it all the time. Idiot. What’s wrong with you?”

“I do—I mean, what? What’s wrong with you?” He returns, and there’s the familiar snap and sting that you like so much. “You don’t even like it when I talk to you—”

“I don’t!”

“So why are you mad now that I’m not?”

“Because—” You struggle for reasoning. You can’t find it. Something strange and huge is crawling its way up your throat.

“Because, uh, um,” he mocks you, and you almost sock him. “Make up your mind! I was trying to be nice to you, even though it’s fucking boring!”

“I don’t want you to be nice to me!” You shout, and then curl over, your face nearly in his lap as almost everyone else in the room turns to look at you. One of the library workers shushes you loudly. “It’s—you’re right, it is boring. Everything else is fucking boring. I like it when you bother me, ‘Tsumu, okay?”

“Okay,” Atsumu says, eyes widening, leaning away from you as you seem nearly on the verge of manic combustion in front of you. “Then—I’ll keep doing it?”

“Will you?” You sit up straight and look him squarely in the eye. He gulps, unsure what he’s being asked. Something is fluttering in his stomach, but he’s hesitant to trust it.

“Yeah,” he breathes, and it feels like so much more than a confession.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you say, in the same deceptively soft tone. “Can I kiss you?”

“Not if I kiss you—” You grab his face before he can finish talking and smash your lips onto his, first hard and like you’re trying to bully your way into his mouth, then a little sweeter, a little more tender. “First?”

“I win,” you say smugly as he tries to remember how to breathe.

“Please leave,” says the librarian. 

You live alone, which is amazing, because if Atsumu were to see his brother or teammates right now he might commit felony battery. In your apartment, which is full of trinkets Atsumu wants to examine but can’t because he’s very busy staring at you, you shove him onto the couch and sit on him. Sort of like you’re wrestling, but not at all.

“If we’re goin’ out,” he says, “we are going out, right?”

“Yes, ‘Tsumu,” you say, and your smile is as bright as the stars. He clears his throat and prays his voice doesn’t crack.

“Good. Uh, if we’re goin’ out, does that mean you have to start bein’ nice to me?” 

“I’ll be nicer to you,” you promise.

“Oh.” His tone is almost disappointed. 

“Or,” you lean down, and he almost chokes on his own inhale. “I can date you and be mean to you at the same time,” you say into his reddening ear, your breath hot and your smiling lips barely, just barely brushing his skin. Atsumu makes a squeaking noise that can barely be understood. “What was that?”

“Yes, please,” he says fervently.

You bite his earlobe teasingly, and he finds that really nice, actually. The nicest.

#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq!! fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu x reader fluff

[spicyvampire]

Man, I cannot stop thinking about Chalothorn coming to save Tharn and listening to Tharn when he asked to not kill Montree (and u know it's serious cuz i'm using his actual name)

Like that is when Tharn understood what he had to do to break the curse isn't it? Like this is when he went from grieving having to leave and accepting it because he knew what he was going to do while he was gone and he didn't know if it was going to work but he was going to try like this is a man with determination right there, like he isn't only looking at Montee he also has a goal in mind

and I feel like talking about this process Tharn went through but also just going through the trio's "character descriptions" as in Chalothorn being a fighter (maybe not talk about Chalothorn in this specific post I want to give him a whole post for himself), Wansarut/Tharn being an healer/protector (mediator?) and Sakuna/Phaya being a fighter (somewhat a little bit of a protector Wansarut/Tharn kinda rubbed off of them akasghjsgajhad like literally) and also just talk about power levels and who would match who in a fight and how that affected Tharn's decision or something idk we will see

Disclaimer : pulling all of this completely out of my ass from watching the show but it makes sense to me, might not make sense to anybody else cuz these are just raw out-of-order thoughts

I think I'll put everything under a keep reading cuz I know We about to spend an hour on this cuz this is taking too much space in my brain and I got school assignments to do so we just gonna throw it up right now

WANSARUT

Let's start with the fact that Wansarut is a healer/protector (and a mediator of some sort maybe? idk) like from the get go you got Wansarut saving Sakuna and healing him, simply because Sakuna was still alive (ep 8)

Like they are enemies at that point??? and what if Sakuna decided to kill Wansarut when he got better? And you can see that Sakuna does not understand Wansarut's actions cuz like they are enemies! That is a big risk Wansarut took simply because he was still alive, because it's not in Wansarut's nature to just sit there and watch someone die, whether they are from the enemy side or not, and Wansarut tells Sakuna to leave as soon as he feels better too, because Sakuna is clearly in Naga territory and it's dangerous for him there, and Wansarut didn't ask anything in return until Sakuna proposed it, and what Wansarut asks is just so goddamn UUUGHHHRBSGUYAHFG [tv static noise]

I literally do not know how to describe it but like Wansarut has an entire Garuda that is the literal Garuda king's brother saying he will give Wansarut anything as a favor because Wansarut saved him and Wansarut asks for peace between their people??? That's why I was like Wansarut is kinda a mediator, also later Wansarut says this

Really showing even if Wansarut would be happy with Sakuna, this situationship they got going on, Sakuna's presence in these woods, could make the war both of their people are living worst, and Wansarut do not want to cause harm, it would go against Wansarut's healer/protector nature

Also random sidenote : the way Wansarut talks the human world and about that Naga legend of a Naga turned human that wanted to be a Monk, is such a benevolent and loving god way of talking, also the fact that Wansarut is showing this whole part of Naga culture (Naga offering and breathing fire to pay respect to Buddha, on the 15th nigh of the 11th waxing moon) to Sakuna an outsider??? a literal enemy of Wansarut's people???? mind fucking blowing if you ask me

THARN

Ok enough about boyprincess time to talk about babygirl Tharn and how Wansarut's healer/protector (mediator) nature translated to him

Let me start with the fact that Tharn almost never attacks anyone first, and is always ready to put his gun down, and literally never shoot if he doesn't have to, let's just take a look at how fast he put his gun down in ep 12 and the fact that he didn't just shoot Montee goon in the back which gave him the time to disarm Tharn

Also when he could have literally shoot Narong possessed by Chalothorn back in episode 5, the coast was clear Phaya was out of the way and Narong was attacking Phaya so he had "reasonable" reason to just shoot the guy, like hell they even made eye contact and Narong (Chalothorn) just fully ignored him cuz he knew Tharn was not gonna shoot and Tharn really just didn't shoot

And don't get me started on the fact that Tharn took that stab for Phaya i'll be here till next year like!!! All that was in his mind was protecting Phaya and if he get hurt doing it so be it, which is literally exactly what his past self did, they will protect what they love, whatever the cost

Like it almost doesn't make sense that Tharn is a cop in this lifetime because of his healer/protector nature, if they still were making him a first responder, it would have made more sense if Tharn was a paramedic or something, but because his parents were killed it and he had to get justice for them he was knocked off the typical healer/protector path slightly, but he was still doing his cop job like he was a healer/protector (which is what cops should be tbh. but that's another discussion), like i wouldn't be surprised if Tharn's other reincarnations were in the medical field in some ways (but again how do you tell this story if they aren't in the same field of work? that's another problem innit)

SAKUNA

Unfortunately I gotta stop talking about babygirl Tharn and talk about our resident bird

Sakuna is fighter first and foremost like there is no questioning that, but I think he is a level lower than Chalothorn, like Sakuna is a high ranking soldier, probably his brother's right hand man but both time Sakuna tried to fight Chalothorn he lost, first time he was hurt very badly and Wansarut had to heal him, second time cost him and Wansarut's life and that's how the cycle started

And it honestly doesn't look like he match Chalothorn's powers even in garuda form, I think the garuda that would match Chalothorn would be Sakuna's brother (ep 12), unfortunately Sakuna would never get to a level where he could win since he died, and just keep dying every reincarnation after that, and I assume he just keep dying before he reach his full powers

But anyways by the end of Sakuna's life he wasn't only a fighter, you can see he genuinely was worried and wanted to protect Wansarut and he didn't care for his brother's war all that much, he did fight but that was to prove his love

And that's kinda beautiful isn't it? that's the effect Wansarut has on people Wansarut is close to and that's honestly the most powerful talent, like more powerful than the actual magic Wansarut can do

PHAYA

Phaya bird man extraodinaire is yet again a fighter (soldier) in this life, quite literally in the investigation team, but you can see that he has leadership qualities real early on (ep 2)

He is honestly a natural leader and I'm sure Sakuna was too, but on the powers side, his garuda powers like dormant/just under the surface this whole series, the best we get are little sparkles (ep 5 + ep 12)

His best qualities : his sparkles

Sidenote : let me just mention how protective Phaya is of Tharn, guy put his whole body over Tharn when there is a blast near, he is always in front of Tharn when they are fighting, not just episode 12 but simply all the time, like both time we saw his sparkles were related to protecting Tharn in some ways, like this man has a very fighter way of being a protector

But anyways my little birdy you are doing amazing tweety and I love you, but like how is he supposed to fight this fucking thing with goddamn garuda sparkles????????????

Well the answer can only be that he was never supposed to fight it. Like let's think about this for a sec, every goddamn reincarnation before phayatharn died why do you think? well idk but I can at least say for certain Sakuna and Wansarut died because Sakuna chose to fight. Literally every goddamn time this shit has always gone down south and we can assume it is because they fought Chalothorn. Fighting was literally NEVER the answer, but they kept doing it and honestly isn't insanity doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results???? They've tried Sakuna and Chalothorn's way and the only thing it got them, is them both killed in all their past reincarnations and Chalothorn being honestly one reincarnation kill away from turning into a Naga forever

Also like sidenote : there is no sign of Tharn's Naga form, like what we got from Tharn are some somewhat powerful sparkles but you can't seriously tell me he can fight Chalothorn literal king of Nagas with that, like the sparkles were only there to protect Phaya, Tharn/Wansarut were never meant to be fighters (ep 5), like even with Phaya and Tharn's powers combined it wouldn't work tbh

Problem is, this whole situation with Tharn's parents dying and people Tharn love dying did make Tharn forget who he was, so much suffering and hurt and grief from a young age can change a soul, Tharn was looking for justice for his parents and frankly was kinda impulsive and reckless about it, and thats why the abbott's role in this show was so goddamn important, he was here to remind Tharn of who he is (the lion king simba and mufasa style REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE), and that is a healer, a protector and a mediator first and foremost, he even said this in episode 3 and he is right Kindness is Tharn's biggest weapon (and Phaya's btw because Sakuna's soul has changed a lot over the courses of reincarnations and he is such a sweetie, that is until Chalothorn walks into the room)

FINAL

bro where was I even going with this? Idk but back to Chalothorn listening to Tharn in episode 12, I think that's when Tharn got a declic as to what the abbott meant by all of his mediation and precepts stuff, Tharn understood then that first of all Chalothorn is not only a killer, the person he has known all these years that cares about him and his wellbeing is there, he literally came to Tharn's rescue twice, in ep 11 when Tharn was falling off the cliff and with Montee in episode 12, the problem is you cannot talk calmly to Chalothorn with Phaya in the room, it's just never going to end well, you put those 2 head strong (mostly) fighters in a room and all hell break lose and people literally die

So Tharn knew he had to leave, but this time, in contrary to the end of episode 11, he had a purpose, the purpose was to change Chalothorn's mind from the inside, because Chalothorn's has show signs of caring and kindness (again he probably got that from hanging out with Tharn tbh), but Tharn didn't know if that would work, he didn't know if he was going to be able to come back to Phaya, and that's why he was saying goodbye like that

That's why it felt like, contrary to episode 11, this goodbye from Tharn had an air of acceptance of his fate, because he knew it was his time to go and fight for his and Phaya's love, but this time he was going to do it his way, and that way is with kindness, love and empathy, like the healer/protector that he is

#the sign #the sign the series #phayatharn #i have no idea if any of this makes any sense but i'm exhausted so i'm going to bed #but what im saying is this story could have never been resolved by fighters #like they would have fought each other into complete destruction of their souls it would have never worked

[bucksfucks]

  𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚 ; 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀

summary┃steve has always had his eyes on you, yours on him. catching you on the beach he finally gets a taste of what he’s missing. 

pairing┃achilles!steve x f!reader

word count┃1,721 words

warnings┃beach sex, semi-public sex, a lot of nudity, oral, fingering, skinny dipping, soft smut, light degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes┃this is very loosely based off of the story of achilles, like...very loosely. the only similarity is the blonde hair and the fact that steve is a demi-god, other than that, it’s self-indulgent <3

     He isn’t really sure when he first saw her. 

    All he knows is that he can’t keep his eyes off of her as she wanders through the cobbled street.

    She’s dressed in a simple gown, slightly weathered with loose strands floating above her feet as she wanders through the bazar. There’s an airiness to her, light and free as he sees light emanating from her. 

    He’s perched on top of a thick tree branch that’s able to hold his weight. Legs swinging and hair blowing in the summer air as he crunches down on the last slice of his clementine. 

    He wonders if she’d be sweeter than the sweet juice coating his tongue. 

    “If you stare at her any longer you’ll burn holes through her skull,” he feels a nudge against his right shoulder, pushing him slightly forward as someone joins him on the large branch. 

    He ignores the remark, scoffing as the bitter peel falls from his hand and other the grass below where it would be hoarded by squirrels and chipmunks. 

    Bucky’s legs dangle with Steve’s, touching but not connected as he continues to admire the way she picks a few apples into her woven basket. 

    He pays no attention to Bucky, the sound of his voice outweighed by the thoughts of her. 

    “Steve?” It’s a question as he finally snaps out of his haze, “what’s gotten into you?” Bucky asks, a genuine sense of wonderment in his tone as the younger of the two sighs. 

    “I think I’ve been struck by cupid himself.” He says aloud and Bucky can’t help but roll his eyes, but the smirk displayed on his lips makes him happy, happy that Steve has finally taken a liking to anything other than the bronzed shield he wields. 

    “I hear she has no lover,” Bucky whispers cheekily, the words catching Steve by surprise as he feels his heart leap towards her. 

    “Who told you that?” Steve asks, bewildered, amused, and hungry for more information. Bucky just laughs, jumping from the branch effortlessly before craning his head up to look at the golden haired man.

    “You’ll have to find out for yourself.” 

~

    The waves crashed against the shore, sand growing damp as you dug your toes into it. The sun was slowly fading, but still just as hot as you closed your eyes and let the sunshine was over you. 

    The beach was always a safe space, providing you with recluse when you wanted time with the most important person; yourself. 

    The woven basket you carried, now filled with fresh fruit and a jug of water, sat half buried in the tan sand, acting as a weight on the rag you lay for when you emerged from the water. 

    Shedding your clothes, you made your way beneath the waves, relishing in the cool water against your skin as your mind wandered back to the bazar. You saw him, perched atop a tree, lounging with his bow and arrow across his toned chest and back as he ate the sweet clementines you’d been trying to find. 

    Everyone knew of Steve, but vert few knew Steve. 

    He wasn’t like you or anyone else you knew, part God as his walked with a high head and a glimmer in his eye that made him shine. 

    When you made your way back onto the beach you were tired, taking you time to re-dress as you dig into the basket, an apple in hand before you’re biting down on it. 

    It’s sweet, quelling your hunger just enough, but it doesn’t satisfy you. 

    “Apples are sweet, but the summer is the season for clementines.” A sweet voice rings out from behind you, turning around to be met with none other than Steve.

    He was barefoot, buried in the sand, his bow and arrow still slung across his back and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander across the vast expanse of his broad chest. 

    A smile stretches across your lips, tantalizing Steve as he takes a few steps closer until he’s at the edge of the rag you’re sat on. 

    “Perhaps I can entice you with one, instead?” He smirks, the orange fruit resting perfectly in the middle of his large hand as he sinks to his knees. You bite at your bottom lip, meeting his gaze. 

    “What is Steve, Son of Peleus doing talking to just a mere mortal?” You tease, craning your head slightly upward as Steve tosses the fruit upward, catching it with ease. 

    “Have you forgotten, my dear?” He muses, rolling the fruit towards you as you catch it in your own hand. “The sea is also my home, this is where I go when it calls me.” 

    His words are so soft, voice sweet like honey as it flows through the air and you feel the warm breeze surrounding you like a hug from Aeolus himself. You felt the familiar rush of butterflies you often felt when you thought about him, but here he was, in front of you with a beaming smile on his lips. 

    “Has it called you today?” You asked, a soft whisper and almost barely audible as he leans closer, “the sea amongst other things are calling me.” 

    Your heart is racing in your chest, he smells like lavender, almonds, and earth as he pulls back. He’s quick on his feet, marvelling at the muscles and strength he posses as he strips of the rest of his clothes. 

    It’s not hard to believe that he is part God, Adonis himself having competition as he flicks his eyes up at you. 

    “Join me,” he says gently, outstretching his hand before you’re stripping once again, clothes in a pile with his as you take his hand, submerging beneath the water. 

    He clearly belongs in the water, waves calming around him as he wraps his strong arms around you to bring you close to his warm body. You’re lost in the blue of his eyes, like the sky met the sea and you never want to look away. 

    “I have been dreaming of the day I can get my hands on you,” he admits faintly, your breath hitching in your throat as you can’t resist the urge to smile. 

    “The day that my lips get to meet yours,” your heart is now tumbling, core aching as you feel him stiffen against you. 

    “The day that I get to taste you.” There’s a glimmer in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and yearning as you tangle your fingers in the hair that rests at the nape of his neck. 

    Steve wastes no time in wrapping your legs around his waist before his lips are on yours, hungry and passionate as he steals the breath from your lungs until you’re dizzy. 

    Water sloshes around your bodies, breaths hot and heavy as wandering hands squeeze at your flesh and curves, Steve memorizing the way you feel. 

    Your eyes are closed, lips still on his as he carries you both onto the beach and onto the warm cloth lining the sand, gently setting you down. You take a moment to admire the way his wet hair hangs in front of you eyes, pieces of it seemingly glued down to his forehead. 

    “You are breathtaking, practically Aphrodite herself,” he mumbles against your neck, lips passing by your collarbone before he’s peeling the sweet fruit in front of your eyes. 

    “Open,” the command is gentle as you do so, parting your lips to welcome the fruit slice. You moan at the taste, relishing in the sweetness of it before Steve is running his thumb over your bottom lip. 

    His lips seal yours once again, body heavy on top of yours as you feel the weight of his cock between your thighs. It swells when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip. 

    “Mmm, so sweet, my dear,” he mumbles against your mouth, “but I can think of something sweeter.” He purrs, nose running between your breasts until he’s situated right above your hair decorated mound. 

    “Oh,” you gasp when he throws your legs over his broad shoulders, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as Steve laps at your folds. 

    You’ve never experienced pleasure like this, every part of your body feeling as if it’s on fire as he groans against you, “so sweet.” He praises your legs beginning to tighten around his head. 

    “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he pants, emerging with wet lips as his fingers are still focused on you. You can’t keep your eyes open, back arching as you lose yourself to the pleasure; waves crashing in the background. 

    “I need to feel you, sweet. Feel all of you.” He whispers, low and raspy as he holds himself over you on his forearms. He smells like you, tastes like the sweet orange juice, and you’re hypnotized. 

    “Steve,” you can only croak out his name before he’s filling you. 

    He’s thick and it stretches you like no other as his low groans and grunts fill your ears. 

    “Feel so fuckin’ good,” the curse causes you to clench around him as he smirks. 

    “My sweet, sweet, sweet girl.” His voice is much lower this time around, tone slightly condescending as his hips rock against yours. 

    “Here I thought you were innocent,” he smirks, “but the sounds you’re makin’, oh they are anythin’ but innocent my filthy little girl.” 

    Steve’s words, combined with his deep thrusts have you digging your nails into his lightly tanned back, crescent shaped indents the only reminder of you.

    “Be mine,” he gasps, your eyes shooting open as those words leave his mouth. His lips are wet and parted, ragged breaths leaving them as he trains his eyes on you. 

    “Be mine and I will show you the world,” he promises as his hips stutter inside of you. You nod your head, “yes, yes!” 

    Your words are a double edged sword, a promise and a plea as you feel the white hot pleasure seeping through your bones for the second time that night as your name leaves through his mouth. 

    By the time you open your eyes next the waves have calmed and the moon is now showing her face, stars littering the sky as Steve’s eyes are a muted cerulean shade.  

    “You are my Clementine, sweet like the summer breeze.” 

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #bucksfucks writes — [♡] ; #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x reader smut #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers au #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers drabbles #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (June 18/2021) - The Outpost Conflict

---

I’m trying out a bit of a new format today! Let me know which one you prefer, or if there’s anything you’d like to suggest! 

Maybe it will stick, maybe it won’t, but since a lot happened today, this recap is less edited-down than usual and it’s put beneath a cut with some extra labels for each big “section.” I’ll probably continue to stick to the normal format for less story-heavy days.

---

The day starts off normal enough, with Ponk building a statue and Foolish working on a gas station.

When Ranboo and Tubbo begin building out a new wall to expand their outpost, though, Quackity comes online to confront them with Purpled and Foolish, getting into a heated territorial dispute.

Tommy meets Slime and begins constructing a railway around Las Nevadas, speaking with Quackity along the way. Slime ends up getting kidnapped over a conflict surrounding Linda the shovel.

After Tubbo tells him about some history that surprises him, Ranboo tries to think through how he feels about it until he comes across a visitor at the outpost.

Ranboo later gets into another lengthy debate with Quackity about the border conflict, after which Quackity speaks with Purpled and Foolish about a possible new plan for Las Nevadas:

An underground district of the city.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Foolish

Tubbo

Captain Puffy

Tommyinnit

Ranboo

BadBoyHalo

QuackityToo

---

---

DREAM SMP RECAP: JUNE 18, 2021

!! UNDER THE CUT !!

---

SECTIONS:

1. Tom Bee

2. Quackity’s Arrival

3. Tommy and Slime Arrive

4. Ranboo and Slime

5. Quackity vs. Ranboo, Area 51

---

-

--- TOM BEE ---

-

- Ponk tells his landlord story to chat at the Thiccatron

- He makes copious amounts of TNT. He goes and places a single piece on top of the rebuilt Pickle’s head

- Ponk goes to the summer home and brings his supplies to his shack there, then creates a giant statue of Tom Bee wired with redstone

- Foolish logs on by where Ponk is standing. He turns around to see the present

- Ponk places down a sign:

---

MOON = FAKE

---

and immediately logs out.

- Foolish tries shooting the target block and the Tom Bee statue blinks. Ponk logs back on to say he passed the test, and the next one will be in four working days. He logs back out again

- Foolish sneaks over to the outpost. Ranboo is there, and Foolish keeps stealthy. He spies on Ranboo from the wall until Ranboo notices and comes over, breaking his cover

- Ranboo tells him to leave. Foolish asks for a cookie and Ranboo gives him some

- They discuss gas stations and Foolish asks if he can have a summer job at the outpost to pay off loans. Ranboo declines, as they already have three employees (himself, Tubbo and the guard fox)

- Foolish leaves to start building a gas station just off the main road to Las Nevadas

- Tubbo and Ranboo begin constructing a new wall for the outpost, expanding it outwards

-

--- QUACKITY’S ARRIVAL ---

-

- Quackity logs on and whispers to Foolish that there’s an issue. The two speak in Las Nevadas

- Quackity looks at the outpost. Foolish explains the new wall came about extremely quickly. The two walk to the outpost, remarking that it doesn’t look like much of a “cookie outpost”

- Quackity has an idea, and he wants Foolish’s warrior experience for guidance. He’s thinking of covering up the river, making that their border, and building up an even bigger wall. He starts placing down cobblestone to demonstrate

- Ranboo spots Quackity building up outside the outpost, putting his armor on

- Quackity says the walls can’t get any closer. Ranboo challenges this

- Foolish starts building up beside Quackity. The two build a tall wall of cobblestone outside

- Tubbo and Ranboo consider blowing up the ugly wall. 

- Purpled comes over to join Quackity and Foolish and Quackity tells Foolish about how he recruited Purpled. Foolish’s main experience with Purpled in the past was when he hired Purpled to kill the L’Sandburgians

- As Quackity fills Purpled in on the plan, Tubbo messages back and forth with Foolish

- They join the Las Nevadans’ VC and Quackity asks why Tubbo’s cookie outpost has a giant wall. Tubbo and Ranboo say the wall is outside of Las Nevadas’ border and is on their land

- Quackity is willing to settle it in court. He tells them about some of their plans for new business and billboards. He offers for Tubbo to advertise their cookie outpost in Las Nevadas

- Quackity offers a compromise for them to take down their walls in return for the cobble wall getting taken down as well

- Quackity finds the wall threatening and asks Foolish and Purpled’s opinions on the wall. Purpled explains how the property value is being lowered by the cookie outpost wall. Tubbo whispers to Ranboo that he has several stacks of TNT

- Quackity says that he and Tubbo can have a private conversation, as Tubbo is a lawyer as well 

- Tubbo and Quackity go up to the Needle to look over the land. Quackity doesn’t want Tubbo building towards his country. He doesn’t want to fight Tubbo because of their history, though

- Tubbo explains that he builds walls because he knows things he builds tend to be destroyed, and he needs protection. Quackity offers him a treaty of peace as long as Tubbo takes down the extra wall

- While Quackity and Tubbo argue, Purpled, Foolish and Ranboo stand in a circle throwing miscellaneous items at each other

- Quackity doesn’t want a repeat of L’manburg and doesn’t understand why a cookie outpost would need a wall. Tubbo suggests they get a border map drawn up

- Tubbo wants the borders to follow the river, but Quackity disagrees and wants square borders and flat lines

- While Tubbo and Quackity continue to negotiate, Purpled, Foolish and Ranboo play with a red sheep, jumping around it excitedly

- Quackity reminds Tubbo of how L’manburg started as only a drug van that turned into a massive nation. The outpost may seem innocent at first, but Quackity doesn’t want a repeat of history

- Tubbo says he wants reimbursement before he takes down the wall out of principle, since he spent a lot of time on it. Quackity points out he can’t have formed an emotional attachment to the wall already

- Purpled, Fundy and Ranboo contain the red sheep in a small pit in the ground

- Quackity quotes Sun Tzu and says that Tubbo has the high ground. Tubbo says Quackity’s painting him as the enemy

- They get a second red sheep and put it in the pit with the first one, throwing some more miscellaneous items into it

- Quackity says that Jack Manifold taking Tommy’s hotel never sat right with him. He doesn’t like the wall. He leads Tubbo back down

- They go outside to the others and continue bickering about the borders. Quackity is upset that their reunion is a legal dispute

Quackity: “Well why would you come and build this outpost right here?! Especially after not talking to me for so long?!”

Tubbo: “To be close to people -- that’s because you dropped off the radar! What did you want from me?!”

Quackity: “You saw what happened with Technoblade! Why’d you never come talk to me? Why’d you never come try and find me?”

Tubbo: “‘Cause you ran off, and, like, I dunno, I assumed you were going through stuff. So I’d never came and find you or even, like, reached out, ‘cause how was I supposed to contact you.”

- Quackity takes Tubbo into a separate call to discuss things further. Las Nevadas isn’t finished yet, and the walls jeopardize Quackity’s expansion. He’s already had a similar dispute and explains what happened with Wilbur, and how his space has become limited with both Wilbur and Eret boxing him in

- Tubbo suggests open borders. Quackity says that would mean Tubbo would be under Las Nevadas law, but Tubbo disagrees

- Quackity proposes that they consider Tubbo’s outpost an embassy of Snowchester, while everything else is under Las Nevadas’ jurisdiction

- Tubbo suggests Quackity follow the path of least resistance instead of targetting Tubbo. Quackity says he’ll deal with Wilbur and Eret, but he wants to deal with Tubbo with words. He doesn’t want the outpost there

- They return to the others having gotten nowhere. They keep bickering for several more minutes

- Tubbo asks Foolish why he changed his mind from yesterday, where Foolish built a palm tree

- Quackity says that if he doesn’t stop Tubbo and Ranboo from building this place, what’s stopping them from going around and claiming other things if he lets them have this piece of land? He has to put his foot down

- Quackity says they’ll get rid of the outpost if they don’t come to an agreement. He will not allow more expansion

Quackity: “Is that how you want to take it, Tubbo? Is that where you want to take it?”

Tubbo: “Big Q...what’s happened to you?”

“What’s happened to you, Tubbo?! I’m making a really fair request! I have a country in the middle of nowhere and you decided to come in front of my country and build this massive structure, which you call a cookie outpost -- really, it’s a military outpost! It’s a strategic military outpost, that’s what it is.”

Tubbo: “Yeah, that’s what it is.”

Quackity: “Why wouldn’t you choose -- what?”

- Whether it is or isn’t, Tubbo says, is his business. Quackity says it is his business since it’s right by his country

Quackity: “I’ll bleed and die for my country, Tubbo. Whether it be you, Tommy, whoever else, I’ll bleed and die for my goddamn country!”

- Quackity would rather they come to a compromise. Tubbo says it’s hard to come to a compromise with someone who isn’t compromising

- Quackity doesn’t know why Tubbo would want a strategic military position outside of Las Nevadas and he doesn’t have a good history with walls. He doesn’t want there to be conflict

Quackity: "Tubbo, I'm going to get rid of this cookie outpost."

Tubbo: "Best of luck."

- There’s not enough space in this land. Foolish asks about how Tubbo is with Tommy and Wilbur, how they might join them

- Ranboo says he’s never been violent and they aren’t a threat. Quackity reminds Ranboo about what happened with George’s house, and there’s a first time for everything

- Quackity once believed in peace, and it didn’t work out for him

- Tubbo states that whether or not the outpost is a military base, it doesn’t matter, it could go either way. They should take it up at a later date, once he’s thought things through. 

- The two speak in private again

Tubbo: “Hey, so you said you play a lot of Civ V, right?”

Quackity: “Yeah.”

Tubbo: “Are you aware of what Gandhi does in Civ V?”

- While Quackity starts telling him to explain himself, Tubbo immediately hangs up on him. Tubbo returns to the outpost

- Meanwhile, Quackity speaks with Ranboo with Foolish and Purpled. Ranboo warns Quackity to not do anything that would directly harm Tubbo

- Ranboo leaves and Quackity talks with Foolish. For the time being, they’re keeping the Las Nevadas walls up

- Ranboo speaks with Tubbo. Tubbo says they won’t try to fight Quackity. He hasn’t done anything bad towards them yet, and has two other fronts to deal with

- Foolish tells Quackity about how Tubbo lost a nuke, and they aren’t sure who would have it. Las Nevadas isn’t giving into them

- Quackity tells the other two that everyone is going to look for conflict, and he wants to give them a chance to back out now

Foolish: “I’ve been in the sand long enough, and...I think it’s time to change things.”

Purpled: “If I went through all of that just to leave this place, I don’t know where I’d be or what I’d do. I mean there’s not really other options for me, are there.”

- Quackity asks how powerful the nukes are. Foolish tells him he’s seen where they built them and they’ve done a test

- Las Nevadas needs the walls. Quackity wants to run tests with canons to test strength of materials

- Foolish asks who’s a part of Las Nevadas. Foolish hasn’t met Slime yet

- Meanwhile, Tubbo and Ranboo listen to a disc together at the outpost, looking out across the land

- They plan to just let Quackity cool off a bit. Ranboo has no quarrel with Quackity and thinks he’s probably a good person. Tubbo says he’s done some questionable things

- Tubbo tells him Quackity was actually the whole driving force behind Technoblade’s execution. Ranboo doesn’t hold it against him. Tubbo’s worried he’s been on his own for so long that he doesn’t know how the world works anymore

- Tubbo also says that Quackity wanted to execute Ranboo, but Tubbo managed to talk him down

Tubbo: “...Did you know I got executed?”

Ranboo: “Hm?”

Tubbo: “Yeah, I know. Have I never told you this?”

Ranboo: “H -- no, you -- you have -- you -- you did?”

Tubbo: “Yeah. Technoblade. Blew me up.”

Ranboo: “What? He -- why did he blow you up?”

Tubbo: “He was peer-pressured into it by Schlatt and Big Q.”

Ranboo: “Like -- by Quackity again?”

Tubbo: “Yeah, see, I’m starting to establish a pattern of behavior, if you know what I mean.”

- He cautions Ranboo to keep it in the back of his mind in regards to Quackity

Ranboo: “Are you -- are you okay? From that?”

Tubbo: “Yeah, I’m fine. Yeah, you know, a little bit burnt from the firework explosions, but you know, it’s fine.”

- Tubbo’s concerned that there might be something sinister going on beneath the surface of Las Nevadas, which is why he wants to observe. If it’s between violence and nonviolence, though, he wants to do things nonviolently if possible

Ranboo: “Are we doing the right thing?”

Tubbo: “Um...we’re kinda just chilling out, we’re doing our own thing. I mean, right and wrong depends on which side you are. Right and wrong isn’t really a fair way to describe things, like, I’ve done shitty things. You’ve done -- you’ve unknowingly done shitty things, but you know.”

Ranboo: “Am I a bad person because of that?”

Tubbo: “No. Like I said, right and wrong just depends what side you’re on.”

Ranboo: “Okay...you would tell me if I was a bad person though, right?”

Tubbo: “Yeah, I’d tell you if you step out of line. And, like so, you’d do the same for me, yeah?”

Ranboo: “Yeah, yeah, of course, of course.”

Tubbo: “Yeah.”

Ranboo: “We’ll just be...safe.”

Tubbo: “Yeah, if we just stick to our side of the river...”

- And if all hell breaks loose, they have a deterrent

- Quackity takes the Las Nevadans to the side of the outpost and says he wants weapons there. They discuss plans for where to build their wall

- Foolish asks who’s the bigger threat to Las Nevadas right now. Quackity isn’t as worried about Tommy and Wilbur, whereas Ranboo and Tubbo have done rapid expansion

-  Foolish has several stacks of obsidian. He asks if Quackity wants any sabotage happening...

- Quackity says that if they so much as destroy a single block of sand, they will react. But until then, they’ll just create the wall. He likes where Foolish’s mind is going, though

Foolish: “Making me feel young again, Quackity!”

- Sam mentioned having a gunpowder farm. Quackity will speak with him

- Quackity asks Foolish about this thing called “L’Sandburg...” Foolish starts explaining it. He says it’s a similar dispute to this one with BadBoyHalo 

- Quackity isn’t sure what Tubbo’s relationship with Tommy is nowadays. Foolish tried asking about it and it seems like they went their separate ways

- Quackity asks Foolish and Purpled at how good they are at PvP. Purpled’s pretty good, Foolish might be a bit rusty. Quackity is awful and asks if they could help him train

- Quackity asks Purpled what his relationship with Dream was back in the day. Back in the days of L’manburg, Purpled didn’t have a strong allegiance to anyone. There was never any point where he and Dream really spoke much. Same with everyone else

- As for who Purpled got along with...not really anyone in particular. There was no one person that Purpled was long-term friends with. He spoke with Punz some, but hasn’t seen him in a while. (Foolish saw him recently making a giant trampoline)

- Foolish talks about the missing nuke and mentions he used to be part of Snowchester -- Quackity, hearing this, presses him on it, surprised to learn it. Foolish joined in his first few days, but they kept things from him

- Quackity asks if Snowchester ever tested the nukes, how much damage they could do. Foolish saw the crater

- Quackity asks Purpled if he was there for the destruction of L’manburg. Foolish wasn’t, but Purpled was. Nukes weren’t used, but it was destroyed all the way down to bedrock. If they could replicate that device for defense purposes...

- Foolish also suggests they put together one of the flying versions of the TNT machines. TNT flying bombers. Quackity likes the idea. He wants to be ready for anything

- Quackity tells them both about what happened with Wilbur

Quackity: “When someone goes and claims a part of your land, you don’t really know how to react. But Wilbur took that plot of land and claimed it as his own. What I should’ve done was prevent it from escalating...”

- Foolish asks if Quackity plans to recruit other people. There are a lot of people Quackity hasn’t spoken to, and if he finds people with potential, he might ask them

Quackity: “We don’t want sleepy people in the country.”

Foolish: “Who’s a sleepy person you’re thinking of?”

- Quackity reminds them about George sleeping through the elections. He asks what’s the last they’ve heard about Niki. Foolish last saw her while working on Kinoko, as she was under there first. Quackity is surprised to learn this

- Foolish tells them a bit about what Ponk’s been doing

- There’s also the new guy, Michael. Foolish has spoken with him and thinks he could possibly fit in

- As Foolish and Purpled continue to work on covering up the river, Fundy comes over and Foolish fills him in on what happened

- Fundy is wearing Quackity’s outfit (he went into Quackity’s closet and stole an outfit that fit him). Quackity comes back and notices, telling him he looks great!

- Quackity tells Fundy about what’s going on. They’re building walls right now

- While everything goes on back at the mainland, Puffy takes down her L’Llamaburg towers with plans to move to a more discreet location

-

--- TOMMY AND SLIME ARRIVE ---

-

- Tommy logs on and goes exploring around Las Nevadas a bit (and running into Purpled) before heading home. He notices that there aren’t many railways around

- He returns to Las Nevadas and sees Tubbo’s outpost. He makes it to the tollbooth and meets Foolish face to face. He passes through and goes to the headquarters. Wilbur said the goal was to upset Quackity

- Meanwhile, the Las Nevadans go over to the edge and see Tommy down there. Tommy speaks with Tubbo and Ranboo, who both come over to Fort Big

- Tommy makes a memorial for Ghostbur

- Quackity still has his Manberg war banner. Fundy shows him his prized heirloom, Shclatt, passed down to him from Schlatt himself as he died. Quackity also has stacks of obsidian from the L’manburg wall, one of which he keeps for history purposes

- Foolish points out how Tommy is traumatized by Dream and shows Quackity how he can put on Dream’s head to scare him, saying they can play mental games as well. 

He also has the Wilbur head as well and puts it on

Fundy: “Oh, I’m not too keen on that one...”

- Fundy presents the Las Nevadas shield to Quackity

- Tommy drinks the invisibility potion and sneaks over to where the Las Nevadans are standing. They know he’s there, but can’t see him

- Tommy shows himself to them as a pair of pants, introducing himself as “Trousers.” He asks if he can join and gamble. Quackity shows him a gambling machine: a pit of lava he can step into

- “Trousers” asks why they hate Wilbur. Quackity says it’s because Wilbur was one of the reasons L’manburg was destroyed (he read it on a Wiki somewhere)

- Tommy notices his time running out and quickly runs back to Fort Big, getting away from them and speaking with Tubbo and Ranboo again. Slime is there watching by the restaurant as he runs by

- Tommy explains Karl Marx to Ranboo while the Las Nevadans discuss what happens “when two pants love each other very much”

- They introduce Slime to Foolish while Tommy comes up with an idea to build a railway around Las Nevadas

- Slime is wearing a new outfit -- a green version of Quackity’s clothes

- They clarify to Slime that pants do not have sex and Quackity goes to ask Tommy what he’s doing. Tommy tells him he’s creating a free railway that costs no money. Ranboo says he’s not involved

- While they talk about Slime’s fear of pants, Slime refers to Foolish as “Foolish From a Long Time Ago”

- Quackity threatens to destroy Tommy’s country the same way Tommy destroyed his house all that time ago

- Quackity brings Tommy over to apologize to Slime for scaring him

Slime: “Hey Tommyinnit From a Bunch of Places, thank goodness you’re not pants!”

- Tommy tells Quackity that he knows Quackity was trying to manipulate him into joining Las Nevadas, and he doesn’t stand with him

- Quackity asks his relationship with Ranboo and Tubbo. Tommy says they’re friends. Quackity apologizes for what happened with Wilbur the other day

- Meanwhile, Slime and the others talk about flowers “breeding” and Foolish asks if earthquakes are mitosis

- Tommy and Quackity talk about Wilbur. Quackity says he’s just returning the favor by rejecting Wilbur from his country. Tommy tells him two wrongs don’t make a right. You can’t just exclude people

- Quackity asks, what if Dream one day walks out of prison and wants to join Tommy’s country? Tommy says it’s different, Wilbur’s changed and Dream hasn’t -- but Quackity asks how exactly Wilbur’s changed

- If Tommy ever wants to have a conversation, Quackity will be in Las Nevadas. He holds no grudges. Quackity leaves and Tommy works on the railway

- Quackity comes back to the Las Nevadans to find that they’re having The Talk. He tells them that Wilbur was manipulating Tommy into joining him

Slime: “Manipulation? That sounds bad!”

Quackity: “Manipulation is bad, Slime!”

- Quackity says goodbye and heads out. Slime sees in full panoramic vision

- Slime digs himself into a hole. Then he tries to teach Foolish how to do mitosis

- Slime asks Foolish what “among us” is and asks if he is “Susicle”

- Tommy comes over

Slime: “Tommyinnit From Nowhere in Particular!”

- He asks them to come to the casino, explaining that he lost something through gambling that he needs to build his railway: his “romantic shovel”

- Slime gives Tommy a loan to gamble for her back. He asks Tommy what “sympathy” is. Tommy scares him away by pretending to be pants

- Tommy tells Foolish his shovel was named “Linda.” Foolish goes to check the system (going outside and retrieving Linda from his Ender Chest)

- Tommy won’t leave until he gets the shovel back and threatens to “take the boy,” turning to Slime and offering to lead him to a box that he can sit in forever. Foolish has Linda, but he wants something in return for spending his money gambling to get her

- Tommy takes a piece of Slime and starts walking away with Slime following to retrieve himself

Tommy: “You’re going to be such a good prisoner.”

Slime: “Like Dream!”

- Foolish puts on the Dream head and Tommy starts running, telling Charlie to follow him. He brings Charlie to Fort Big and puts Slime in a hole

- Slime starts doing mitosis. Tommy tells him to not do it and asks if he would like to betray Foolish, telling him that “betrayal is good.” 

Slime: “Dream From Manhunt ate him!”

- They drop some bars

Tommy: “My name is Tommyinnit and I’m here to say, I keep prisoners in a different way! I - am - immoral!”

- Foolish starts digging Slime out. He gives Tommy a fake Linda but Tommy notices the difference. Tommy reminds Slime about betrayal and tells Foolish to leave

- They ask if Slime is having fun

Slime: “I have just been having a time! Since I was sludge! None of it has been good, none of it has been bad, it’s all just been time! Oozing onwards to the inevitable destruction of everything! One day we will all be soup, so in a way I’m not so different than the inescapable future!”

Tommy: “What he means is he’s having fun.”

- Foolish leaves. Tommy keeps Slime’s gloop, which gives him 33% control over what Slime does. The Prisoner Hole in Fort Big will be Slime’s home, and they’ll upset Quackity 

- Slime says he’s (definitely not) a pile of goop that’s been in the ground observing everything. Tommy notes that they seem quite alike

Slime: “Tommyinnit...I haven’t been exiled!”

- Tommy asks how he knows. Slime saw. Why didn’t he help? Slime says he glooped around a little. 

- Tommy leaves Slime in the hole. He has the idea to threaten him as the legs later

- Foolish worries that if Tommy gets Linda back, he’ll lose the one bargaining chip he has over Tommy and Tommy will just manipulate Slime, who is very impressionable

- Maybe next time he should just fight back instead of trying to work through tricks all the time. He did say he would be changing things. Or maybe he should just get rid of Linda?

- He can also just work on his Dream impression. He ends stream, hoping to finish the gas station tomorrow

-

--- RANBOO AND SLIME ---

-

- Ranboo thinks to himself at the outpost. He and Tubbo just wanted to expand their area for a wheat farm, and now Quackity’s gone and gotten in the way as well as covered up the river

- He has no ill feelings towards Quackity, except possibly -- well, he learned that Tubbo was executed, found out that Quackity wanted to have Ranboo executed

- He’s not sure how to handle this. Should he say something to Techno? He wants to stay peaceful

- Ranboo spots the shadow of a nametag moving behind the wall. He pauses work on the farm

- He comes to the gate to find Slime behind the lava wall. When Ranboo lowers the wall, Slime starts running. Ranboo confronts Slime outside and questions what he was doing

- Slime asks who Ranboo is. Ranboo tells him simply, “Ranboo”

- Slime tells him that Tommyinnit From Nowhere has 33% of his “meat” and that he was put in jail

- Slime says he’s from the ground before correcting to “the womb.” Ranboo says it’s nice to meet him and asks if he’s human, noting that he’s “slimy”

- Slime tells him that he was with Quackity From Las Nevadas, but now he is with Tommy From Nowhere because Tommy can control him with “meat”

- Ranboo tells him he -- Ranboo -- is not human. Slime directs him to spin around and jump before referring to him as a “brother slime.” Because if Ranboo is not human, he must be slime

- Slime tells him the truth: he is actually goo. They enter the outpost and Ranboo gives him a cookie to eat. Slime hasn’t seen any other slimes up here. It took a long time and a lot of watching for Slime to look like this

- Ranboo doesn’t think, genetically, it’s possible for him to be Slime’s brothers. Slime tells him genetics are a lie, they must be brothers, and tells him “I forget too”

- Quackity has taught Slime how to be friends! Slime demonstrates by digging himself into a hole and telling Ranboo that he’s going to kill him, then Ranboo will work for him, and thus they are best friends

- Ranboo tells him that isn’t what friendship is, and that friendship is based on kindness. Slime hands Ranboo some bones to keep up his disguise

- People can’t find out what they really are. If they found out, who knows what would happen? Slime has seen what they’ve done...

- After learning that Ranboo has been speaking with the others, Slime asks what he has learned about friendship (he refers to Ranboo as “Ran-goo.”

- Ranboo explains it with acts of kindness, like cookies. Slime tries this by charging interest on the cookie

Slime: “How else is the house supposed to win?”

- Slime learns that people don’t get things back necessarily, but rather trust and friendship. A “bond” (he confuses it for the investment definition)

- Ranboo tries explaining it by talking about an emotional attachment to a pet -- if the pet died, one would feel sad. Slime asks how?

- Slime gives Ranboo some goo to patch himself up. Ranboo “does so,” and Slime says he is now a part of Ranboo

- Ranboo tells him that someone telling them they’ll kill you isn’t a good thing. Slime asks why not -- everyone will be dust eventually

- Ranboo continues to teach Slime about friendship. Slime wants to understand why people do what they do

- Ranboo tries to tell Slime that he’s not a slime, but Slime still doesn’t believe him. He’s part Enderman and part...he’s not slime and he’s also not human

- Ranboo gives Slime his parts back. Slime tells him about how Fundy From L’manburg ate a part of him and now Slime is part of Fundy forever. Slime hands Ranboo more slime and asks if he has a mouth. They can have “a bond”

- Ranboo tells him he’ll keep it on him, but not eat it

- Slime says he hasn’t seen Ranboo. Ranboo hasn’t seen him either, since he seems to be new

- Ranboo tells him he’s been here since after L’manburg got destroyed the second time (which Ranboo refers to as the first). Slime notes that that place got blown up a lot

- Ranboo shows him grass blocks. Slime tries to pick one up, but he can’t

- Ranboo notes that Slime is one of the only people that he can look right in the eyes

- Slime tries to give his cookies back to God. When it doesn’t work, he gives them to Ranboo

- He tells Slime to not hurt people, even if other people tell him to. Slime has to think for himself about what he wants to do

- Slime goes into the ground where he will commune with the gravel to think about what Ranboo has said

Slime: “When I come out, promise you won’t be dust!”

- Ranboo watches Slime, who remains in the hole. Slime begins whispering to himself about the nature of existence while Ranboo stands there listening

- Slime comes back up, saying he was just “processing.” Ranboo tells him he used to go to an obsidian room when he needed to process

- Ranboo tells him that if Slime ever needs advice, he’s free to ask him. Ranboo also tells him that friends aren’t supposed to be controlling of you. Slime won’t let people control him

- Slime leaves to return to prison, telling Ranboo he won’t let anyone keep him down again!

- Ranboo hopes he’ll learn about free will soon. Something tells Ranboo Slime should probably be protected

- When Ranboo met Slime, he saw himself in him. He used to be like Slime back in L’manburg, going along with people and things

- Ranboo just wants to be supportive of Tubbo. He thought the scars came from Tubbo just testing something. He doesn’t know how he feels about Techno doing it

- He hasn’t seen Techno in a while...

- Ranboo heads to the strip club to visit the place he made

- After thinking some more, Ranboo leaves some signs with a gift chest saying he’s sorry to Quackity that they got off on the wrong foot, and would like to talk some more

-

--- QUACKITY VS. RANBOO, AREA 51 ---

-

- Bad and Skeppy log on, Bad planning to possibly build Skeppy’s statue

- Quackity logs on in Las Nevadas and finds some food. He notices the gift box, reads the signs and finds the Yeezys and cookies. He’s not impressed

- He runs into Ranboo coming up from the tunnel and tells him to pay the toll. He gets Ranboo to come back to the toll booth and then blocks off the tunnel, saying Las Nevadas is closed for the day

- The two speak. Ranboo tells him he has no ill intentions. Quackity asks why his partner threatened to nuke Las Nevadas. Ranboo tells him the nukes were decommissioned, but Quackity still took it as a threat

- Quackity tells him the only way they’ll be on a good foot is if they relocate the outpost. Ranboo tries to explain, but Quackity hangs up and walks away

- Quackity explains his thinking, how he feels threatened by why a cookie outpost would need such a massive wall. Quackity has to protect his country

- Foolish logs on. Quackity intends to continue building up the wall until it encloses the entire area

- Quackity speaks with Foolish, who tells him about Tommy taking Slime prisoner because Foolish wouldn’t give the shovel Linda back

- Quackity starts running as Foolish continues to fill him in. Foolish shows him Linda in his hand. Quackity is outraged that Tommy would hurt Slime over a shovel

- He’s also mad that Foolish would let it happen. They get to the tollbooth and spot Ranboo running around again

- Quackity tells Ranboo that if Ranboo wants peace, they’ll have to compromise. Foolish was inspecting the outpost and found gunpowder. Quackity doesn’t like the area that they’ve used to build these farms that are heading towards Las Nevadas

- Meanwhile, Skeppy and Bad argue and Skeppy pricks himself to death on a cactus

- Quackity tries to explain his position to Ranboo again. He wants it on paper that they’ll have no issues, and he wants compromise

- They continue to argue. Las Nevadas has plans of expansion

- They keep arguing and eventually, Quackity tells Ranboo to talk it out with Tubbo and to stop expanding. They part ways and Quackity asks Foolish’s thoughts on this. They talk about the expansion

- The subject returns to Slime, and Foolish explains how Tommy came barging in asking for Linda. Quackity tells him to just give Linda back. He trusts that Tommy’s a good person and won’t cause more trouble if Foolish just returns it

- Foolish asks if another situation like the one with Tommy and Slime happens again, how should he handle it. 

Quackity: “You know what we need, Foolish? ...We need laws. We need jurisdiction.”

- Purpled comes over as they start taking down the extra cobble wall they built earlier

- They finish and Quackity speaks with Purpled back in Las Nevadas. Quackity points out that the country is very exposed right now, and they need a backup plan: an underground city expansion

- Purpled tells him about the underground part of his base beneath the UFO he used to have and Quackity asks for him to show it to him. They go over there

- The underground area could be where all of the functional things are, away from the flashy tourist attractions

- They reach “Area 51,” the underground area. Quackity remembers how he and Tommy used to smuggle drugs through the sewers there

- Purpled shows him around through all the secret rooms. They figure out the combination lock

- Quackity also directs Foolish to place more sand, since that’s where people assume the borders stop

- Purpled fixes the entryway to Area 51. Quackity wants something similar done in Las Nevadas

- With regards to conflicts, Quackity trusts them to act on their own judgement. He leaves them with that and heads out

---

Upcoming Events:

- Final Egg lore stream [POSSIBLY SOME TIME NEXT WEEK]

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Dream’s lore video

- Ponk’s lore stream

- Possible Lore Suit court battle

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts #dsmp #this took so long oh my god #apologies for things I missed/messed up! #usually I'd have more time to go back and double-check details but...yeeeah

[monochromemedic]

I had been stuck in the Dark World for who knows how long. The days didn’t seem to matter down here. No sun, no moon, just the vibrant green grid that coated the sky that would twitch and surge with occasional frequency.  When I first got here, I fought hard to get back to the surface, to fight for any sense of normalcy, for home but after a while the dream began to fade. The options began to run dry when compared to the dangers that surrounded me. And so I settled. I survived. I searched for food, begged for shelter from kind Darkners. I did what I had to to live. The Queen was not an option. Whispers from Darkners told me how I was just what she was looking for, that would help her expand her reign to the Light World. As much as that would probably help me, I didn’t want to ruin the lives of others for the chance to see my family, as much as I missed them with every passing minute. The sound of bustling cars and the blinding lights of neon signs stung my senses, my palms pressing into my eyes to drown out what I could. Damn it this place never slept did it? There was always something, some sort of noise. Whatever bags I had under my eyes were probably made cartoonishly drastic with the lack of pure rest I was getting. ‘Supose it was better then being dead... My body felt heavy, and I knew I’d have to find a place to rest or I’d fall asleep mid crossing of a road and get run over by one of those goofy cars I’d seen. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad... I recalled the time one of the car’s rear bumped into a fire hydrant (or at least I thought it was) and made a squeaking sound. The darkness of a certain alley called to me, the silence a sweet lullaby to the roaring around me. Was it dangerous? Oh yeah. Was it stupid? No shit. Was I going to do it? The shadows the engulfed me were perfect and if it wasn’t for the underlying stench of garbage it’d probably be ideal. Still beggars couldn’t be choosers and if tonight was good enough I would have to consider having this as my permanent sleeping spot. My back slid against the cool wall across from the dumpster, eyes half lidded as they read the advertisements littering above. Why the hell did the Queen have ads anyway, if she wanted she could monopolize any products she wanted... Despite the quiet I couldn’t shake the feeling that creeped down my spine. The presence of something other then myself around me. I tried to close my eyes, I was in the city after all. It’d be concerning if I didn’t feel like people were one second from crawling up my ass. Though I had to admit I didn’t expect to actually feel something begin to touch me. My eyes snapped open, elbow prodding into a blurry shape that yelped and tumbled backward, it’s grasp my on shoulder tearing a hole in my already worn shirt in the struggle. “Hey! What the hell?!” I barked, standing over the perpetrator. My shoulders slumped when I saw what looked to be a doll staring up at me with wide eyes, an over exaggerated smile permanently spread across it’s face. The creature’s jaw opened wider with a clack, it’s small body shooting upwards to stand on it’s small pointed feet. “WOAH WOAH WOAHAH- [Live worms]!”   The darkner’s voice was deafeningly loud, a shrill tone that cut the air like newly sharpened blades. “ I THOUGHT YOU WERE [Roadkill]. NICE TO KNOW I WON’T BE [Sleeping with the fishes] T0NIGHT!!” Well he had a certain way of speaking that was obvious. What the hell was going on with him, he talked like he was constantly being cut of random clips of other people speaking. He talked like a youtube poop or any other shitpost that would randomly shove memes into them for a quick laugh. “You thought I was dead? I was just... I was... uh.” I looked around me, eyeing the dirt and debris. “I was... going to sleep... here.”  Dammit, telling people I had to sleep in such ratty places were always a blow to the ego but I suppose it was better then saying ‘Oh I was just sitting down here to die’ The puppet shook his head and waltzed over to the dumpster, his small hand smacking the side with a sense of pride. “ [Finders keepers, losers weepers] HUMAN, YOU PICKED A GOOD SPOT. TOO BAD [so sadd] I GOT HERE FIRST. THOUGH FOR A DEAL I SUPPOSE I COULD [Share the love~]” “Got here first... what are you talking about?” The Darkner let out a laugh, distorted echoes filling the air as he leapt inside, a solitary hand popping out to beg me to come closer. This was a terrible idea, but despite my best judgement I followed, and witnessed what I could only describe to be a makeshift bed inside.  The puppet laid on top of musty mats and raggedy rugs, a single stained pillow resting just beneath his head. My god was he living in here? The creature continued his laugh, lurching only a few inches away from my face. “ [Sweet deal] ISN’T IT? J3ALOUS, [baby]?”  I shirked back, cheeks reddening at the tone of his last word. I was most defiantly not jealous, in fact I was filled with remorse, something his pride did not help with. “It’s... uh something. I guess this means I’ll have to find another alleyway um, sorry for bothering you-” “SPAMTON.” “What?” His hand shot out towards my chest, fingers wiggling for a handshake. “SP-SPA MTON G SPAMTON, [Number 1 rated salesmen 1997]” He announced, an extra flair of bravado laced his titled. His hand was surprisingly warm for what it was made of but nothing that would be described as body temperature.  “Jenna. Also 1997.” “WHAT A YEAR. LISTEN LIGHT nER, I AM DEALSMAN [yes/no?]” “Um... y-yes? I don’t-” “THEN LET ME MAKE A DEAL YEAH? FOR ONLY [many] KROMER, YOU MAY STAY IN MY [Privately owned] ALLEY. IT’S A REAL [steal] YOU’RE ROBBING ME [deaf] HERE!” My brows furrowed as I searched his face for any context clues for what the hell he was trying to say. Kromer? What the fuck was ‘kromer’? The only thing I knew of currency down here was dark dollars not kromer... even if he did ask for dark dollars he didn’t name a price, he just said many. And the amount of dark dollars I had was zero. “Uh I don’t have kromer. I don’t even have dark dollars I’m kinda broke Spamton, in case you couldn’t tell from uh...” I trailed off realizing saying that sleeping in an alley wasn’t a very smart thing to say to someone who slept in an alley.  He seemed surprised by my words, beginning to tug on my coat, flipping my pockets to see if I was really lying. I had to push his mitts off me a couple of times, to which he eventually got the idea the way his hands began to rub at his extended jaw. “NO KROMER... WHAT CAN YOU DO?” “What do you mean?” He seemed to sense my change in tone, his grin beginning to wobble nervously “[Whoopsie daisy!] LET ME START AGAIN. DO YOU HAVE A [trade]? A [skill] TO [Exchange for goods and services]?” he croaked. I eyed the ground, rubbing the back of my neck. What the hell was I good at again? “I mean, I can draw, I suppose...” “ARTIST? WOW OWOW!” Spamton’s face lit up before digging in the dumpster, pulling out a few napkins and a ball point pen and shoving them into my hands. “WHAT A [trade] TELL YOU WHAT. YOU DRAW A [one-of-a-kind masterpiece] AND YOU CAN STAY THE NIGHT!” “You’ll let me stay... if I draw something for you on this napkin. Am I getting that right?” The doll nodded feverishly, basically hovering over my shoulder as I played with the pen. This was certainly the weirdest way to pay someone that I could imagine... well no but one that was in the realm of reality. I had to ask Spamton to give me some space a few time, the feeling of his breath on  my neck making me more then nervous as I drew. God he was like those kids in school that would ask for drawings but ten times worse with the amount of personal space he’d give you. Besides I needed something to draw and with nothing on the mind why not draw the most interesting thing in front of me. I held the finished doodle out to Spamton only to have it snatched out of my fingers so fast I swore we could have started a fire. “WOAH...” The puppet sank inside of the dumpster, his face softening  as for once in what seemed like forever the alley way grew silent. “THIS IS... ME?” “Yeah. Sorry I didn’t know what to draw, you kind of put me on the spot. Besides everyone likes drawings of themselves right?” I shrugged, being pulled away from my thoughts by an overdramatic sniffle. Was he... crying? Not quite, just damn well close. Spamton’s shoulders quaked as a warm smile returned to his cheeks, slipping the napkin into his pocket with glee. “SO GOOD... THANK YOU.” “It’s really nothing, honestly that was a pretty shitty drawing.” “WHAT? YOU’RE [&#!^]ING ME! THAT WAS [BIG SHOT]” He was screaming again, hands gesturing wildly about. “It wasn’t but thank you. I wish I was better to be honest. I’m not very happy with my art, not at all.” I turned away from his gaze, unsure of why I was overcome by a choking sensation building my throat.  Why the hell was I telling this stranger this sort of stuff anyway? I mean I could hazard a guess it was the fact that this was the longest conversation I had had with anyone since I had gotten down here but with how things were it could be some magic power the doll possessed to tell him my deepest darkest secrets. “YOU DON’T THINK THIS IS [Big?]” “No.” “WHY NOT?” “I don’t know. I just... I think it doesn’t look the way I want it to. Doesn’t look good to me, and I don’t know how to fix it. Which I guess is a little funny considering how long I’ve been drawing. Just keep... drawing and drawing and never improving, least not how I’d like. It’s just garbage to me.” Spamton’s face seemed to fall, his glasses fading to a dark inky black.  “YOU FEEL? NO GOOD AT WHAT YOU DO? YOUR [passion]?”  “Yeah.” A laugh ripped from his chest, his head lolling back with each chuckle. I felt my soul began to crack, a shame flooding my body with how hard he seemed to laugh. Did he find this funny? Humorous?  I felt tears prick my eyes as I snapped my head back to glare at him, his head glitching back to stare back at me. “YOU’RE JUST LIKE ME, JENNA. A [slime] A REAL [slime]!” With a quick motion the puppet jumped to the ground, his hand resting against my arm as he spoke.  “YOU’RE A REAL [BIG SHOT] YOU KNOW THAT? STAY AS LONG AS YOUR [Greasy little heart] DESIRES!” Well... that was unexpected. He’d really let me stay here as long as I want cause I was pathetic? Or did he just feel sorry for me? What was going on? And why was he calling me a slime... or us a slime?  “Oh... uh thanks? I didn’t think I was being  much of a big shot whatever that is but I apricate it. Really.” His head clacked with every little nod, leading me to a pile of cardboard boxes and patting them with the grace of a car salesman. “BEST [Seat in the house] ALL FOR YOU. [Night night forever]!” Spamton beamed, awkwardly swaying side to side before stumbling back to the dumpster a few inches away and crawling inside of it, much like a wild animal. I couldn’t help but laugh a little. This guy was weird. Kinda creepy but also kind of funny. I honestly couldn’t pinpoint a feeling on him but at least he didn’t want to hurt me just make weird ass deals and make me ‘big’. Did that mean famous? Was this guy so into my art he wanted to be some sort of manager? I rubbed my eyes and let out a yawn, the excitement of the day finally beginning to fade. God I forgot how tired I was, that little guy made me feel like I was gonna go into fight or flight.  “Hey Spamton?” “YES?” his voice echoed from inside the metal container. “...Thank you.”

#self insert #spamton #vent #idk im just thinking #just wanted something to do

[planetsano]

pimp my ride, please?

REQUEST ☆ "can I request a reki x f!reader where she asks him to decorate her skateboard? Reki introduced her to the world of skate so she wants him to be the one to do her very first skateboard!! And Reki is like "really? me? 🥺🥺🥺"

WARNINGS ☆ none! just fluff sweeter than candy.

PAIRING ☆ reki kyan x female reader.

A/N ☆ this was extremely self indulgent, thank u nonnie!

"You okay, kitty cat? You're a little quiet tonight." Reki says. His was attention on his personal board laying on the crafting table in front of him while he tweaked a few things that would improve the board's functionality. His hands so veiny, slender, and pretty under the lamplight as he worked. You sat beside him in your own little world, chewing gently at your thumb trying to muster up the courage to just ask him one simple question, but you didn't know how to do it.

It wasn't any secret that Reki was talented. Not only is he an amazing skater but an artist. You've seen him craft so many boards by hand with unique and intricate designs. Not only did they look aesthetically pleasing, but they were practical and held up to a standard that takes years for a person to master. His creativity not only benefits the artistic side of things but it's simply innovative. The best example of this being Langa's skateboard.

Not only that, but Reki is an excellent teacher. He always so patient with you through all your mess-ups and countless falls to the ground. He did all this while never losing his enthusiasm and warmth towards teaching you the best he can, not only as a teacher but as a best friend and a boyfriend. Every time you fell, he was always there to pick you up with a big smile, a kiss on the forehead, and a couple of smiley face bandaids if you needed them.

The thing is, he was using his board to teach you. Not that he minded, he was actually more than happy to share his board with you. It was intimate in its way. Only skaters would know how it feels to have a bond with someone so strong that you're willing to let them ride and learn on your board. It has a similar vibe to when ravers share and trade their Kandi. Reki has teased you about it before, but the only reason why you haven't purchased your board yet is that you wanted him to be the hands and mind behind your very first skateboard.

"(Name)~" He called your name in a singsong manner and pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Welcome back, space ranger." He chuckled and looked at you over his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine!" You smiled. Fine? Reki was no mind reader but he knew something was up.

"I know when you're lying~" He turns to you in his stool and pinches your nose gently. He thinks your reaction is cute, seeing you scrunch your nose up like a baby bunny.

"What's up?" He tilts his head and offers you a smile.

You start to feel shy under his gaze and your cheeks begin to feel particularly warm the longer he looks at you. You take a sudden interest in your fingers twiddling them mindlessly as you tried to find the right words. Why were you nervous? He was your boyfriend after all! The worst thing he could say was no, fuck but even then you'd absolutely die of embarrassment. You need to get it together, come on.

“Um..." You trail off causing him to let out a happy giggle. He wasn't sure why you were acting so shy all of a sudden but he thought it was endearing.

“So shy, for what?” He lifts your chin with a gentle hand getting you to look at him, then he winks.

“Stop teasing me, I have something important to tell you..” You whined and shooed away his hand with a pout on your face.

“Okay, then tell me what's on your mind." He straightens his posture and reaches over to hold your hands in your lap.

“Well, you've been taught me a lot with skating, and I only know what I do because of you," You started. He's listening closely and giving you all his undivided attention. “The reason I haven't brought my board is that, well, it would be more special to me if you made it.." You trail off once more looking down at where your hands are connected.

Reki's eyes widen at your words. You want him to make you a skateboard? He needs confirmation, so he lifts your head once more.

"Wait, really? You mean that?" His voice is soft to matching the way his expression melts from shock to the rawest form of love. He's really just looking at you with the softest case of puppy dog eyes.

"Reki, you're so talented. It would mean the world to me if you did." You were being sincere and he could tell.

Reki is so touched, his heart is literally swelling and pounding in his chest. There's an intense wave of euphoria, love, and warmth that wash over his body. He's really over the moon right now.

"But only if you w-!" He cuts you off.

"Of course I want to!" He smiles at you brightly taking both of his hands to ruffle your hair wildly. You're about to say something about him messing up your hair but he gives your lips a sloppy peck before shoots up from his stool in excitement.

"We can start tonight! You're gonna be so proud of me, babe! It should be on pimp my ride!" You look up at your enthusiastic boyfriend with a smile.

"I'm so happy you're excited but let's start tomorrow, yeah?" You say and tug at his hoodie. He deflates and blows a raspberry.

"No fun." He sits back down in your hands cup the sides of his cheeks. You're giggling but you're about to scold him.

"Hey, mister! You need a break! You've been working for hours and I need to leave before it gets too late. It's already 11." You said glancing over at the digital clock he had sitting on a toolbox.

"Aw, what! You're not sleeping over?" He gives you a goofily exasperated look. Silently saying, 'you want to start your board tomorrow and you're not cuddling with me tonight?' He was beyond cute.

"Reki, baby, I've slept over the past two nights. I gotta go back to my own bed." You giggle and he playfully folds his arms.

"We shared boards, we can share beds too." He pouts cutely and looks away.

"You're a dork." You smile ans lean in to kiss his lips.

"Ah, seriously (Name)! Sleep over! Please~"

© all content belongs to rekiri 2021. do not modify or repost.

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #reki kyan #sk8 reki kyan #reki kyan x reader #sk8 x reader #sk8 the infinity x reader #sk8 reki x reader #sk8 reki kyan x reader #sk8 the infinity reki x reader #sk8 the infinity reki kyan #sk8 the infinity reki #sk8 reki #sk8 icons

[ragingbookdragon]

I Won't Wait For The Day When You Look Back And Say That You Need Me And Love Me The Same

Hal Jordan x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.4K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: Galleons' new album has put me in a mood y'all. Enjoy my angst! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The nights in Coast City were fairly cool compared to the days. Bright stars spread across a blanket of black, the scent of sea salt in the air, the sound of waves crashing the shore. The beach had always been one of their favorite places to hang out when they weren’t on an airstrip or at a bar. It was always the place she could see Hal for the man he really was, not the smart-ass, arrogant pilot. No, Hal was calm, soft words and stories coming from his lips, love for his friends and work.

It’s what she loved about Hal. All the years they’d been friends since they were kids, more often getting in trouble because once Hal started skipping out on school to watch his dad fly, so did she. She remembered getting scolded by her mother one afternoon, and the next morning she and Hal were hauling down the street past the school to the airfield, waving at Martin’s jet like he was waving back at them.

Of course, when Martin died, so did a part of Hal. He stopped eating for a few months, too sick to keep food down. He didn’t cry though. Just stared blankly at his lunch pail while everyone else ate their lunches. She found herself glued to Hal’s side during that time, simply resting her head on his shoulder while she ate her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, always offering Hal a bite; he merely shook his head.

And then one day it all changed. They got older, Hal jerked awake from his stupor, restored with a vigor that rivaled a nuclear power plant. He talked about joining the Air Force, becoming a pilot, flying all the time. From what he sometimes said, his mother wasn’t happy about it, forbade him even, but he wouldn’t be dissuaded. Hal had once taken her hands in his own, her ignoring how warm they were and the fluttering in her chest as he begged her to support him. She smiled and hugged Hal, promising to always support him.

She’d been there when he left for boot-camp, was there when he graduated, there when he was discharged and went into the civilian sector working at Ferris Aircraft. And she was there when he became Green Lantern. Was there when Coast City was destroyed—she’d gone to Gotham to visit her sister the day before, pure luck. She was there when Hal regained himself, forcing himself so hard to regain the trust of his fellow Lanterns. She stood beside Hal with heart overflowing with love for the man, always offering it to him in the guise of support and firm words.

He’d come back from a mission, shown up at her doorstep and offered to buy her dinner if she came with him and listened to him complain about his week as a Space Ranger. She’d merely laughed and grabbed her coat, letting him lead them to diner on the boardwalk and then to the pier where they stood, overlooking the water and the moon above.

“What’s it like up there, Hallie?” she asked, adjusting her grip on her purse. “Being in space…flying past the stars?”

Hal chuckled. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. All the childhood wonder of wanting to sail the stars coming alive.” He glanced at her. “You ever wanted to fly up there, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah.” She nudged him in the ribs. “Gotta let me borrow the ring one day and lemme try it.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aww, why not?”

“Because knowing you, you’d blow something up.”

(Y/N) scowled. “Rude.”

“Truthful,” Hal grinned, and she shook her head, a smile coming over her lips. “Are you going to take that job in Gotham?”

She shrugged, sighing, “I don’t know…never really wanted to leave Coast City…and Gotham’s insurance is sky-high.” (Y/N) looked at him. “I guess I’m just waiting to see if there’s a good reason to stay.”

“You mean you’re waiting for the dramatic love declaration as you’re getting on the plane?”

“Something like that,” she answered, and they laughed; (Y/N) glanced at the purse in her hands. “Something like that,” she murmured again, and he leaned forward.

“What’d you say?”

She dug around in her purse then yanked something out, about the size of her hand; she handed it to him, watching him flip it over in his palm, recognition flashing across his face as he said, “This is one of the limited edition patches my dad bought…I gave you mine when you weren’t able to get one in time.” Hal looked at her. “You still have this?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I carry it everywhere I go. It’s my lucky charm.”

“Do you really?” he asked, wonder in his voice and she nodded again.

“Yeah. Always.”

“Why?” he laughed. “I figured it’d be stuffed in a box somewhere.”

(Y/N) blinked, trailing a finger up the side of the stitching, letting the feelings she always hid finally come out. “I keep it with me because it reminds me of the man I love.” She gazed at him as his eyes widened, jaw dropping. “I look at it when I need help. I wonder what would Hal do, then do the craziest, ballsy thing instead of playing safe.”

She brushed her fingers against his. “Truth is, Hal, I am waiting for a good reason to stay in Coast City…and I want that reason to be you.” (Y/N) smiled at him. “Hal, you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning, and you’re always the last thing I think about before I go to bed.” His hand was so warm. “We’ve been friends a long time and I think if we both took the step…we can be more.”

(Y/N) took a step closer. “So? Do you wanna give it a shot? You and me?”

Hal had recovered a few moments before, mouth drawn in a line, eyes soft and kind, prompting her to believe her greatest wish was going to be granted—all those lucky nights wishing on a shooting star.

Then he opened his mouth and what came out left her feeling numb, fingers dead where they touched his. “(Y/N), I don’t know what to say…”

“Good unknown or bad unknown?” she offered, and he shook his head.

“I just…I don’t know.” He sighed. “I need time to think this over.”

(Y/N) tried not to let the hurt show on her face, instead masking it with understanding, leveling her voice as she agreed, “Of course…but I have to ask, do you know how long it’ll be until you have an answer?”

Hal inhaled. “I’m not sure.” Gently, he placed the patch back in her hand. “Here. You take this back, I—” his ring flashed, causing them to both look down at it and he sighed.

“Go,” she said. “You’re needed.”

He nodded. “Right.” Hal’s suit flashed over his body, and he rose into the sky. “See you around, (Y/N).”

“You too, Hal,” she answered quietly, knowing that the tone of his voice meant she wasn’t going to see him around for a while. She watched him fly into the distance, then she sat down on the pier and pulled out her phone, shooting the CEO in Gotham a quick text. I’ll take the job.

***A Week Later***

“Hey, Jordan!” someone shouted, and he looked up. “You’ve got a package!” they snickered. “It looks like it’s from one of your lady loves.”

With furrowed brows and a huffed laugh, he walked over and swiped the neatly wrapped green box from the other pilot’s hands, taking a seat in one of the lobby chairs before undoing the bow. He pulled the top off the box and shoved the tissue paper out of the way, surprise etching across his face as he saw the blue and gray patch resting on the delicate paper.

Hal pulled it out, catching sight of something beneath it, a small index card; he recognized her handwriting, taking it in his hand as he silently read,

I don’t think my good reason is here in Coast City. Maybe I’ll find it in Gotham instead. I took the job at Wayne Enterprises. I’m sorry for not saying goodbye, but something told me to leave this behind—you’ll need it in the coming future more than I will. Good luck, Hal, and please, be careful.

Love always,

(Y/N) (L/N)

#hal jordan x reader imagine #hal jordan x reader imagines #hal jordan x reader #hal jordan imagines #hal jordan imagine #hal jordan #green lantern x reader imagine #green lantern x reader imagines #green lantern x reader #green lantern imagine #green lantern imagines #green lantern #green lanterns #green lantern corps #lanternfamily x reader imagine #lanternfamily x reader imagines #lanternfamily x reader #lanternfamily imagine #lanternfamily imagines #lanternfamily #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc comics #dc

[catboybinnie]

first date ━ seo changbin.

summary: part of the first date collection. on your way home from work, florist!reader notices changbin smoking a joint on his fire escape, and decides to ask for some. what ensues is an unexpected first date.

pairing | seo changbin x fem!reader

genre | alternate universe (non idol au), fluff & smut

wordcount | 4.7k

warnings | marijuana use, sex while under the influence of marijuana, oral (f receiving), nipple play, penetrative sex, protected sex

“Hi,” you call, tilting your head up towards the man on the fire escape twenty feet above you. 

After a moment, he says, “hi,” back to you, but it sounds more like a question than a greeting. You can’t blame him. You probably wouldn’t talk to someone shouting to you from the sidewalk of your apartment either. He’s staring down at you, features fuzzy in the evening shadow, but your attention isn’t on his face, anyway. 

“Can I hit that?” You gesture towards the joint in his hand. The siren call of weed makes you stupid.

The man doesn’t answer you. He sits up straight again, now out of your sight completely except for his feet dangling off the edge of the fire escape. A stream of smoke curls into the air from where you suspect his head is, and you wait a moment for a response before realizing, a little too late, exactly how stupid weed makes you. He’s not going to respond.

Just as you turn on your heel to continue your trek towards the subway station, his voice calls your attention back. You twist your neck around to look up at him, peering down at you from twenty feet above. “Can I make you a deal?”

“Sure,” you nod.

With an outstretched hand, joint resting between his index and middle fingers, acting like an arrow as he points towards the taco truck at the end of the block, he propositions you. “Grab me a number three from there and I’ll roll you your own.”

Well. Shit. That’s not the answer you were expecting, though you can’t say you were expecting an answer at all. It’s a fair deal. Whatever a number three costs is probably on par for a joint, anyway, so you shoot him a thumbs up and go get him a number three. You get yourself one, too, for the road.

Minutes later, he tells you to stand back so he can drop the ladder for you, so you do, and you wonder how the fuck you plan on climbing the fire escape with a burrito in each hand. He answers that for you by taking a couple steps down the ladder until his black vans are at eye level with you. 

He’s a lot closer to you now than he was before, and a combination of shop lights, streetlights, and an apartment light leaking between curtains illuminate him. He looks around your age─ dark hair, dark eyes, intense, offset by fuller cheeks and plush lips. 

One hand grasped around the rungs to hold himself up, the other hand stretched down towards you with a freshly-wrapped joint. You exchange one of the burritos for it, watching as he climbs back up the fire escape with a short thanks. 

“Hi,” you call back up at him once he settles again.

“Hi,” he responds, setting the burrito down next to him as he goes to pull the ladder back up.

Weed makes you stupid, so before he can pull the ladder back up, you ask him, “can I come with you?”

“If you tell me your name,” he replies, so you do. He says it slowly, like he’s tasting it, and you like the way he says your name. If you had the ability to say someone’s name like it’s the most important word in the world, you’d probably abuse it for street burritos, too.

“What’s your name?” You ask him. Maybe you do have the ability to say names like that, maybe you don’t. 

“Changbin,” he tells you, so you repeat it, and you try to say it like he did─ deliberately─ but you fuck that up completely. Sounds more like you’re teasing him for something, you sound like an asshole to your own ears, but he just grins down at you.

“Are you coming up?” He─ Changbin─ takes a bite from his burrito.

So you do.

xxx

Forty minutes later and your head’s heavy, but like the weight’s all cotton candy. It isn’t something that makes sense when you’re sober, but it does when you’re stoned out of your mind, so you tell Changbin that.

“My head’s full of cotton candy,” you state, plainly, sticking your thumb in your mouth to lap at the melted cheese that dripped out of your burrito.

“What color?” Changbin asks.

You hum, pondering for a moment as the two of you swing your legs over the fire escape, staring out into the city. You decide on, “blue, but baby blue, like… periwinkle,” and he laughs beside you.

He laughs nice. The thought makes you snort, and you turn to look at him just as he blows a cloud of smoke out and hides from your sight. It’s definitely the weed spinning the world more slowly but your ears cling to his laughter, replaying it like an echo. He laughs nice, and you need to let him know.

Before you get the chance, Changbin interrupts you to ask, “why are you hiding from me?” He swats at the air between you two where thick smoke streams from both of your joints coil together. He bats it all away and smiles at you, slow and lazy.

“I’m right here,” you reply.

He jerks his head in the direction of his apartment window. “Do you want to go inside?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

You crawl in the window after him, balancing the last bite of your burrito between your fingers like it's a precious gemstone, holding your joint between your lips and taking shallow tokes with each breath. Smoke spills from your nose and you feel like a dragon.

The window leads you directly into his kitchen. It’s almost entirely brick, with dark wooden countertops, black steel furniture, and high ceilings. Spacious─ this guy must have money─and leads into a larger living room with a massive black L-shaped couch, more brick walls, more wooden furniture, and a spiral staircase leading to a lofted bedroom. 

“What do you do for work?” You ask.

“I’m a producer,” Changbin responds, now perched on his kitchen counter. He leans over to the ashtray at his right and puts the joint out in it, abandoning it altogether, before he leans back on his palms and tilts his head to keep looking at you. “I make music.”

“Anything I’ve heard?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smirks. “What about you?”

“I’m a florist,” you answer him, shoving the last of your burrito in your mouth. 

You spend the next fifteen minutes like this, getting to know each other. It feels like longer, like fifteen years, because even though you put your joint out in the ashtray next to his, you’re still higher than the moon and time has long since stopped moving linearly. 

Somehow, you wind up standing between his legs with your hands on his knees. You don’t remember getting this close.

“Do you normally follow random men up a fire escape?” Changbin teases you with that slow, lazy grin.

“Fuck off,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Never.”

“What made you follow me? Besides the weed,” he adds. “You’re not going to rob me, are you?”

“I can’t even feel my legs,” you tell him. “If I tried to run right now, I’d fall over.”

“Is that why you’re holding on to me so tight?” Changbin slides his hands down his thighs until he reaches his knees with ease, but stops just short of your hands. His fingers barely brush yours, like he’s shy all of a sudden. 

“Maybe,” you say, watching as your fingers tap up that inch of space and intertwine with his. Your head doesn’t feel heavy anymore, but the air around you does, like it’s charged with something volatile and massive where your skin meets his. For a moment, you wonder if you’re imagining it. You wonder if you’re suddenly being weird. You wonder if Changbin is going to kick you out of his apartment, and if your roommates are still awake because you definitely left your keys at work.

He gasps, grips your fingers right back, and the tension breaks. His heels nudge the back of your legs and you take the hint, stepping closer between his legs until your hips hit the counter and your face is inches from his. Changbin’s eyes are bloodshot and red, glistening with the effort of keeping them open to stare into yours. His pupils flick down to your lips real fast, and you lean in a little closer. Just a little closer.

“Do you kiss on the first date?” You ask.

He smirks again, tongue poking out to wet his lips, eyes still flicking down to yours like he’s waiting for the right moment. “Oh, so this is a date? You ask every guy out on a date by smoking his weed and inviting yourself over?”

“You smoked me out and I bought you food, this is definitely a date,” you smile back at him.

“More like a sesh,” Changbin responds. 

Before you get the chance to say anything else, he closes the gap between you two, pushing his lips against yours. He kisses like he smiles: slowly, lazily, like time doesn’t exist and all he plans on doing for the next millennia is this. Slots your lips together and sucks your top lip between his, slips his tongue into your mouth to taste yours, nips at your bottom lip and down your chin until he’s sucking a line of sloppy, wet kisses down your jaw. All the while, you’re standing between his legs with one hand on his knee, still intertwined with his, while your other arm wraps around his neck in an attempt to fill each other’s space up with your bodies completely. 

Changbin’s teeth lightly scrape your neck and you gasp. “You make the sweetest little sounds for me, baby,” he murmurs against your skin.

Your face flushes with the realization that you’ve been making noises this whole time. You rebel against this information by bringing your hand up to his face, guiding him back to your lips, taking a step back with each kiss so he follows after you. Changbin slides off the counter and crowds you into the corner of the kitchen’s entrance, capturing your lips again in the process. One of his hands grips your jaw, applying just enough pressure for you to open wider, giving his tongue better access to your mouth. His other hand reaches down to hook your leg up at the thigh, pushing his hips flush against yours and forcing you to wrap your leg around his waist for balance.

He tastes like weed and street tacos. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Changbin pulls his lips off of yours with a wet smack, nosing into your cheek to ask, “do you fuck on the first date?”

“So this is a date?” You grin. “Not just a sesh?”

It’s his turn to laugh now, mumbling for you to fuck off, before he gives you a series of languid kisses. “Yeah, it’s a date.”

You capture his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him back towards you for more kisses. You pull apart just to nod and say, “then yeah, I fuck on the first date.”

xxx

The walk up the spiral staircase to his lofted bedroom takes a little longer than it should, with the two of you giggling and crawling up on your hands and knees the entire time. Once the two of you reach the loft, he ducks quickly to scoop you up into his arms and carry you over to the bed, smiling at you the entire time. It’s romantic until his knees hit the edge of the bed and his smile turns devious before he throws onto the mattress. You shriek, gripping at his black sheets, already pushing him away with your feet as he crawls toward you.

“Stop kicking, Y/N/,” Changbin laughs. In the small moment that you falter, too wrapped up in the way he says your name, like it’s the most important word in the world─

Changbin manages to grab your ankles and spread them apart, effectively stilling your kicks even as you persevere in your attacks, cursing him out while laughing.

“Do you ever worry that someone’s watching you through a telescope?” You ask, gesturing towards the massive floor-to-ceiling windows on the other side of the loft. The back of his apartment provides you with a view of the rest of the city just beyond the river and the bridge that divide it. 

“Not until now, no,” Changbin’s eyebrows furrow as he looks out at the city, and it’s obvious that he’s literally never even considered that. He sighs, then shrugs. “Well, at this point they’ve seen my dick from every angle, so what’s one more time.”

Before you push the subject further with something even more ridiculous, he slides up between your legs, forearms on either side of your head, and kisses you deep. Whatever it was that you were going to say dies on your tongue and disappears from your mind completely as your five senses are completely overwhelmed by Changbin. 

The taste of his lips; the smell of marijuana mixing with his sheets; his fingers reaching down to skim your hip where your shirt’s riding up; the little sounds he’s somehow pulling out of you, like no one’s ever done before; he pulls back, and you open your eyes to take in his disheveled appearance, hair messy and lips kiss-swollen, and you think, proudly, I did that.

His fingers tug at your shirt, and you wordlessly reach down to pull it off. Changbin sits back on his heels, hands reaching down to run up and down your arms, your waist, the swell of your tits underneath your lace bra. He swallows, a small sound in the back of his throat, and his tongue pokes out again to wet his lips. 

“You too,” you say, your voice breaking the spell he’s under, and he hastily pulls his own shirt off.

You sit up on your elbows, taking in the view of his bare skin; Changbin looks strong but still so soft, so you reach out to skim the pads of your fingers down his chest, down his abs, tracing the warmth of his skin and the vague line of his abs down to the waistband of his jeans. You hook your fingers in the band and look back up in time to see the way his throat bobs.

“Can I see?” You ask.

Changbin snorts. “Isn’t that the point?”

“Fuck you!”

“Isn’t that the point, too?” Changbin laughs, and dodges another kick you send his way.

“Shut up and take your pants off, Changbin!” You flop down onto your back, throwing your arm over your eyes and groaning just to be dramatic. 

You hear him laugh again, more of a light, warm giggle, and then the sound of fabric rustling and metal unzipping. Moments later, he guides your arm away from your eyes and rolls his hips down into yours, kissing you again before you get a good look at the prize. You can certainly feel it, though, thick and heavy on your hip. Your heart stutters in your chest at its weight, and you’re suddenly very aware of the heat in between your legs.

“Why am I completely naked and all you’ve done is take your shirt off?” Changbin mumbles against your lips, squeezing one of your tits in his hand.

“Do something about it,” your voice is breathier than normal.

Changbin sits back again and you follow up on your elbows, finally getting a look at his cock springing up from between his thighs. Thick, long, and hard, and you bite your lip as you admire it.

Never in your life have you ever wanted a dick inside of you this badly.

“You’re drooling,” Changbin teases you, yanking your pants and your underwear down to your ankles. You kick around a bit until, with his help, you’re also (almost) entirely naked. 

You sit up and reach for his cock, but Changbin backs away from your touch. 

“Not until you take your bra off,” he says.

“Brat,” you roll your eyes but comply, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra and pull it off your chest.

Changbin’s eyes are locked on your body, his gaze so intense that you start fidgeting beneath it. Your heart hammers in your chest. Any funny remark or weird comment you can make dies in your throat the second his hands travel up your legs, spreading them further the closer he gets to your pussy. Embarrassed, suddenly, you turn your head to stare out the window, fisting at the duvet beneath you.

“Hey, no, look at me,” you hear Changbin say before he grips your chin and turns you towards him. He swoops down to kiss you again (slowly, lazily) until you start making noises of contentment into his mouth.

Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his fingers rubbing against your pussy, dipping between your folds, circling your clit, teasing your cunt as he smears your own slick around. Your hands instinctively come up to cradle his face and run through his hair, your lips chasing after his in a series of hot, open-mouth kisses.

Changbin breaks away first, sitting back on his heels again and pulling his fingers away from your pussy to hold in front of his face. He huffs out a laugh at the string of slick connecting his middle and index fingers, his eyes meeting yours. “Look how wet you are for me, Y/N.”

“I’m going to kill you if you don’t fuck me already,” you growl, sitting up so you’re eye-to-eye with Changbin as you take his wrist and wrap your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself. 

His eyes glaze over and his mouth drops open watching as you suck his fingers dry. Slowly, you drag his fingers out of your mouth by his wrist, letting them catch on your lower lip and pull a little, before smearing spit down your chin. 

“You’re trying to kill me now, holy shit,” Changbin babbles and lets his hand grab your neck, not choking you, but to steady you as he kisses you again. Despite the urgency in his voice, he manages to kiss you slow, again, like time means nothing. 

He guides you down onto your back again, kissing you the whole way down, before his lips start making their way down your jaw, your neck, your body. Once he reaches your hips, he glances up at you, eyes glazed and hooded, so you can watch him kiss a trail from your hip to halfway up the inside of your thigh. His other hand pushes your other leg up, hooking your thigh over his shoulder so he can shimmy up closer to your leaking pussy. You’re so wet, so hot, for him that his breath fanning out over your core feels cold. It sends shivers up your spine.

Changbin licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, making your back arch as you push your hips up into him, a deep groan coming from him. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he moans.

You can do nothing but whine as he sucks on your clit, his tongue rapidly flicking across the sensitive nub. You push your hips up again for deeper friction only for Changbin to push you back down, his forearm pinning your hips in place as he continues eating you out. 

And he’s fucking messy about it, too. Alternating between kitten licks at your hole, sucking kisses up your pussy, flattening his tongue to catch as much of you in his mouth and the rest dribbling down his chin to mix with his own saliva. His spits on your pussy a few times, his thumb coming up to rub circles into your clit while his tongue fucks your cunt. You’re babbling his name, begging for more, moaning and gasping and grabbing your own tits with your own hand while the other rakes through his hair. 

Then, Changbin adds two fingers. You gasp at the sudden intrusion so he takes your clit between his lips again as he fucks you with his fingers. Your eyes are half-lidded in absolute pleasure, blinking blearily at him while he busies himself pushing saliva out of his mouth again, coating your pussy in a mix of slick and spit. The added wetness makes it easier for him to finger fuck you, makes it easier to curl his fingers into your walls just right and find the spot that has you moaning his name loudly enough for the entire city to hear.

Heat pools in the bottom of your stomach and before you know it, your back arches and your body stills as you cum. Changbin licks you all the way through it, his fingers pressing against that spot inside of you that exploded from his touch, until you release one final moan.

Chest heaving, you look down to see him sit up from between your legs, smiling, lips and chin wet with spit and your own slick. You haven’t managed to catch your voice back yet, so you beckon him over with a lazy twist of your fingers. He rolls his body down to meet you and you hold your face in his hands, kissing him deeply, still moaning a little bit into his mouth.

“Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” You murmur, dragging one knuckle down his spine.

He giggles against your mouth and ducks away from you, hiding his face in your neck. “The internet,” he replies.

“So are you going to fuck me now?” You ask, and smirk when he (with a swiftness) sits back and rifles through his bedside drawer.

Changbin pulls out a condom and a half empty bottle of lube, which you raise your eyebrows at. “Someone’s busy.”

“Fuck you,” he rolls his eyes but smirks, working at rolling the condom over his cock. “I’m a chronic masturbator.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but that’s actually the hottest thing in the world,” you reply, not even trying to hide the lust in your voice at the mental image of Changbin fucking his own fist in this very bed.

“Maybe I’ll let you watch sometime,” Changbin smirks again.

Before he can position himself, you roll over and push at his shoulders until he gets the hint to lie back in the spot you just vacated. “I’m going to ride you,” you tell him, swinging your leg over his hips until you’re straddling him, “until I physically can’t anymore. You deserve it for eating pussy like a champ.”

Changbin laughs, and it’s his turn to cover his face with his hands as a red flush spreads across his cheeks. You pry his hands away from his face, smiling as you plant kisses all over it (saving his lips for last) until you’re both laughing together. It’s sweet. It’s the best sex you’ve had in a while, and you don’t even have his dick in you yet. 

Your fingers circle the base of his cock as you line yourself up with him. You look up to see his eyes staring as you lower yourself onto it, biting your lip through the stretch until you're fully seated. As soon as he bottoms out in you, Changbin groans, and his hands find your hips. After a few moments, once you get used to the stretch, you slowly begin to move. Your legs shake with the effort, your body still tired after your own orgasm and lazy from all the weed you smoked, but you manage to pick up a good pace. You roll your hips down as you fuck yourself on Changbin’s cock, relishing in the sensation of him throbbing inside of you, and butterflies erupt in your stomach once he starts moaning your name.

Absentmindedly, you press your hands down on his pecs and settle your weight into them for balance. Like the rest of him, they’re firm but soft, like he definitely works out and could probably deadlift you like it's nothing, but still soft enough to cuddle into for warmth. You quicken your pace a bit as heat starts pooling in your stomach again, his cock brushing that sensitive part inside your cunt that has you hurtling towards a second climax. One of your hands massages into his chest, your other hand tweaking at his nipples for something to do.

Changbin makes a strangled cry in his throat, like he’s trying not to let it out, as your fingers keep pinching at his nipples, rolling the buds between your fingers, while your hips circle an agonizing rhythm on his cock. Suddenly, his hands squeeze your hips to hold you in place while his hips buck up, burying his cock deep inside you as he cums with a loud groan. 

Brows furrowed, eyes squeezed shut, lips red and kiss-swollen─ he is truly a sight to behold.

Even as he releases his death-grip on your hips, you don’t move to get up, opting to stare at the man beneath you as he slowly collects himself. Changbin notices you staring and the flush on his cheeks intensifies, his eyes suddenly looking anywhere but you.

“I─ sorry, that was… new for me.” He mutters sheepishly.

“Huh?” You tilt your head in confusion.

Changbin huffs in frustration, finally meeting your eyes. “I usually last longer than that, I mean. But, uh, the… you know.” He gestures between your hands and his chest, eyes shifty again.

Then it clicks for you. “Ooooooh,” you slap your hands down on his pecs, ignoring the squawk of surprise from Changbin, and press your tongue against the inside of your cheek to try and stop the spread of your smile. “The nipples! Was it the nipples?”

Changbin makes another sound in his throat, looking to his left and out at the city before he nods.

“Oh my god, you liked it!” You giggle with glee. You’ve never been with a man who liked his nipples played with, and if you have─ well, they certainly never let you know.

“Shut up about it,” Changbin mutters, crossing his arms over his chest to dislodge your hands.

You lean over, softly cradling his cheek in your hand as you guide him to look back at you. “I’m not making fun of you,” you reassure him with a kiss, “I think that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Do you think you can cum without me ever touching your cock? Only your nipples?”

Changbin tries to hide his face again, but you gently take hold of his wrists and pin them to either side of his head. Instead of providing you with an answer, his eyes scan your face, like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he cranes his neck up to kiss you again (slow and lazy, just how you like it).

“Do you work tomorrow?” He asks after a while.

“No,” you answer. 

He hugs you close to his chest, using the position to roll you both around until you’re on your back beneath him. Slowly, he finally pulls out of you, both of you hissing at the sensation after having been joined together for so long, and he ties the condom off and throws it in the little trash bin beside his bed.

“If you stay over, our first date doesn’t have to end,” Changbin says, casually, like it’s nothing, but there’s a lilt to his voice that makes you think he’s holding himself back.

“Are you not the type to fuck on the second date?” You challenge him. “Is that why you want our first date to last forever?”

Changbin laughs again─ warm, light; butterflies erupt in your stomach again─ and shakes his head, “Y/N.”

Your name sounds safe in his mouth. 

He intertwines his fingers with yours, bringing your hands up over your head, and kisses you again. Says your name a few more times, like he knows it makes your heart race.

“What if I promise to cum from you playing with my nipples?” Changbin asks between kisses. “Will you stay?”

“Oh, fine, I guess,” you huff, being purposefully dramatic even though you made the decision not to leave this man the second your fingers brushed on the fire escape.

xxx

In the morning, Changbin keeps his promise, and cums untouched after mere minutes of you pinching and sucking at his nipples. He says your name again, just to get your attention, just so you can kiss him, and it sounds safe in his mouth.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #changbin smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fic #skz fic #changbin fic #collection: first date

[thetorturerwrites]

Welcoming Work

Summary:  “I’m…” You faltered, trying to find a way to explain what was happening to someone who likely had no idea about any of this. But he nuzzled you like a puppy, and your smile led the way. 

“It's welcoming work.”The way he sat up straighter, moved your hair to one side so he could see better, and leaned into you, threatened to melt you into a puddle of goo.

“I need to welcome a new city,” you said. “New job. New apartment. New opportunities and friends.”

Author’s Note: My favorite slut is at it again, this time with a little woo thrown in. 

Also:   The contents herein come with facets of my own witchery and practice. If this doesn't line up with your practice, don't come for me. All paths are inherently personal, and I'm not gonna argue mine.

A bit of sex, a bit of fluff, a bit of crafting.

***

♪ Be my sister, sister of the moon   Some call her sister of the moon ♪

You sang under your breath as you walked. Fleetwood Mac always opened craft days. The slightly mystic sound calmed you, centered you to a place to begin. As the day wore on, the soundtrack would become progressively more intense. Santana. Florence + The Machine. Music was the gateway, the shot to start the race.

You’d planned today for a month, checking your calendar and your pantry and stock for ingredients. Everything aligned perfectly, right down to the day of the week. Saturday, so you could get yourself feeling good all day and be genuinely ready later and not scrambling to throw it all together.

It was this plan that had you knocking on Adam’s door at 1 in the afternoon.

“Hey-eee?!” His smooth voice tilted up a bit at the end, surprised to see you in his hallway. “What’s up?”

You had no idea why he called you kid, nor did you have any idea why it felt so good that he did.

Adam Sackler was one of the first people who befriended you here. You worked part time as a stagehand for the theatre company he acted for. He smiled a lot which you really liked. It lit up his face; and when his hair was pushed back and out of the way, his ears wiggled with every smile. He had an infectious personality.

In addition, he was one of the most attractive mother fuckers you’d ever seen in your life. All broad shoulders and muscles. He was, simultaneously, a gigantic goofball and a walking aphrodisiac.

“Hey, Adam!” You gave him a friendly wave but shook your head when he opened the door for you to come inside. “I won’t be long. Wanted to talk to you about something real quick.”

He was also an unabashed sex fiend who flirted shamelessly. You lost count of how many suggestions he’d made about shagging you silly, and you couldn’t remember anybody ever winking at you in your life, but he did. He often pointed to the bathroom door with an indecent brow lift, silently asking you if you wanted a quickie. Without fail, you snickered and shook your head.

You probably should have turned him in for harassment, but part of you knew he’d stop the instant you said don’t. And the rest of you decided that you liked the way all his comments, queries, and suggestions made you giggle. You needed happiness these days.

“Shoot.”

He leaned on the door, casually looking like the world’s largest lollipop, and you worked hard to not ogle him. It was decidedly not a simple task.

“You know all the comments you make about quickies in the back of the theatre or walking me home at night to make me breakfast?” You canted your head because he shifted uncomfortably. His face darkened a bit, and you knew it was because he expected to be chastised. “I’d like to take you up on that.”

Interest flitted across his handsome features, and he took a step towards you.

“Is that right?” He smirked and tried to tug you into the apartment by the strap of your bag. “Think I can make time for you, kid.”

A wide smile broke across your face. You couldn't help it. The absurd things he said entertained you. He was the most adorable idiot you’d ever known.

“Ah, I was actually thinking later tonight. Would that work for you? I have some things to do this afternoon.”

It wasn’t a lie. You had things to do, but you were more interested in the thing's timing. You had an agenda; and as appealing as an afternoon in his bed sounded, you were sticking to it.

“Why now?”

His question gave you pause. It was a fair question, but you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to answer truthfully. He might think you bizarre and not worth it. Don’t fuck crazy, as they say.

“I’m dealing with some things,” you said. “I could use the boost. Think you could come by around 8?”

♪ Dark lady laughed and danced and lit the candles one by one   Danced to her gypsy music 'til her brew was done ♪

The knock at your door came at 7:45. Entertained, your lips twitched because he never struck you as the punctual type. It could almost be construed as eager.

Inside of two minutes, you had your ‘hey kid’ and the single carnation he brought for you. You twirled it in hand and smelled it with the coy look you knew always won cute points. And then he was in your apartment, mischievous eyes looking you up and down before surveying everything beyond you.

“Holy fuck, your place smells amazing.”

You smiled at the compliment, tucking the carnation into one of too many glass jars you had on the counter top. You pointed to the large pot of simmering cider. Your apartment smelled of fruit, cloves, and bourbon. He wasn’t wrong; it was amazing. Beyond that, the pleased sound he made had your insides buzzing.

“Are you hungry?” You ducked out of the kitchen to finish the task he interrupted. “I finished supper a bit ago, but there’s still some left if you are.”

Finally looking away from the yumminess on your stove, he watched as you circled your place, striking match after match. Your apartment glowed with candlelight; pillars and votives adorned anything with a flat surface. It gave the room a warmth, the type of succulent vibe that always made you feel sensual and open.

“You tryin’ to romance me, kid?”

It wasn’t condescending or belittling. It was an appreciative joke. The grin on his face said he was poking fun at you, but the crinkle of his nose and eyes said he liked it. The lick of his lips said he also appreciated your flowy, nearly see-through linen trousers and little white tank top.

“Uh-uh,” you shook your head. Flashing eyes accompanied a little twirl of your fingers. “It’s magic.”

Your sassy quip seemed to delight him because he pushed off of the stool he’d claimed and crossed the room like a panther. There was something hunterish about him, and it was oh so tempting. It occurred to you, for the millionth time, exactly how tall he was when he curled down around you. His long arms encircled your waist, pulling you flush. His lips found the crook of your neck, and he nudged your earlobe with the bridge of his nose.

“Magic, huh?” He began a wholly distracting trail of kisses along the side of your throat. “You smell good, too.”

“Mhm.” You splayed your fingers across his pectorals, enjoying the steady beat of his heart. “You’re gonna help me.”

He lifted his head to look at you, curiosity clear in his arched brow and pursed lips. 

You swallowed, gulped more like. Time to jump off the bridge. You didn’t want to lie to him, but your path wasn’t exactly mainstream. Most people thought you silly or devil-driven. But you couldn’t raise the type of energy you wanted on a lie.

“Oh, yeah?” He cocked his head to one side, deliberating. “What am I gonna do?”

You wanted him to make you vibrate, to fill you up with that endless jubilation he always had. You wanted him to raise enough power that the top of your head would blow off. You wanted the mundane world to fall away and the inner world, where courage and spirit and wisdom lay, to rise up and work.

“Well,” you sighed dramatically, “if you suck at sex, I’m gonna be mad because that’s pretty much it.” Again, you twirled your fingers around to mark the atmosphere. “Gonna raise some energy.”

You’d never been shy about your craft, but you were careful with it. Too many times in your past, you’d felt mocked, chastised, outright chased out of homes. The name calling never affected you, but losing friendships and partners was hard. Something about Adam, though, told you he was up for pretty much anything.

“Hm.” He pondered it for a moment before nudging the tip of your nose with his. “Soft and slow energy or quick and rough energy?”

“Yes.” You nodded, cheeky and matter-of-fact. “But there is one thing I’d like to ask.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t say mean things to me, ok?”

Adam’s predilection for dirty talk was legendary. The people he’d already slept with at the theatre gossiped about it regularly.

“I’m not a slut or a whore.” You furrowed your brow because it wasn’t entirely true. You didn’t mind it, really, but tonight needed to be specific. Good vibes. “At least not tonight. Ok?”

His fingers slithered under the hem of your tank, seeking skin. He leaned into your space and kissed a slow line from your chin, along your jaw, to your ear, where he whispered naughty things.

“Already thinking about fucking me again?”

With his arm about you so securely, he stretched you onto your toes as he straightened up to his near full height. And when he dipped his mouth to yours for the first time, you knew you made a wise decision. His lips were soft but sure, and he tasted like honey, as you suspected. The sound you made when his tongue slid along yours made him squeeze you a little tighter.

He sunk into it; you could feel it. His shoulders dropped, his fingers curled into your flesh, and his even breath blew across your cheek. His kisses were intoxicating, hungry but unhurried. He licked at the roof of your mouth and nipped at your lower lip. You slid your hands along his shoulders, up the back of his neck, and into his hair. He was solid, but slightly vulnerable in the best way.

Bending down to hook his hand under the crook of your knee, he wrapped your leg around his waist and hoisted you up as though you weighed little more than a feather. Long strides had him at the foot of your bed before he’d finished anchoring your other leg to his middle. You were never so grateful for a studio apartment with its no-wall, no-room layout.

“Hold tight, kid.”

He murmured it against your mouth, and you nodded against his in return. You cinched your thighs tight, which made him groan ever so softly, and bore your own weight for his shoes, socks, and belt to come off without him ever setting you down. Crawling onto your bed, he eased you to the mattress, knelt upright, and peeled off his shirt. A bite to your lip kept you from salivating all over yourself at the sight of him, his muscles, and that extraordinary ‘v’ that disappeared into his waistband.

He didn’t peel them off, but he did pop the button on his jeans to make a little more room for what you expected was something long and thick. Short-circuiting that thought, he leaned down over you and gave you the kind of kisses you’d only seen in movies. He was a staggeringly good kisser, making you squirm more and more with the curl of his tongue and the teasing scrape of his teeth. When he bit your shoulder, though, your breath stopped. Abruptly overcome, you felt like you might combust.

And just like that, you found the thing you needed.

He didn’t miss it and tested the theory by another bite at your pulse point. Your fingers curled into his bicepses, digging in as you whined and tilted your face away to give him more flesh. His sweet mouth turned ravenous, seductive kisses turned demanding. He gripped your chin and turned your lips to his once more, swallowing your gasps and whimpers.

He dragged his nails along your sides viciously as he pushed up your tank, leaving tracks and eliciting a long moan and the rise of your shoulders into his. Your core ached, your pussy throbbed, but you’d willingly drown in this foreplay, the middle energy between beginning and end. It was heady and erotic and tantalizing.

Adam’s teeth found purchase once more at the top of your breast, and he gave you more and more and more. The longer he explored you, the more fierce the bites became. At the peak of your breast, he got enough of a grip to pull it up and away from your torso, only relenting when you pushed at his chest. He flicked your sensitive nipples with his tongue until your hips bucked and twisted. He treated your ribs on both sides to the impressive span of his wide jaws and a bulldog bite. A satisfied rumble reverberated in his chest at your moans.

As with your shirt, he scraped flaring lines into your skin as he dragged down your pants; and as soon as you were completely bare, he attacked your thighs. He sucked the delicate flesh of each into his mouth good and deep.

You’d be riddled with bruises tomorrow, and it was incredibly worth it.

Gripping the sheets, you heaved for breath, staring at the ceiling but not seeing it. You’d expected filth from his lips, the sort of lewd banter you’d heard about. But this was too good for words, too animalistic. He drummed you up into a frenzy with his teeth and strong fingers. You floated on a pheromone high, watching as he pushed your leg up over his shoulder, but the way he bit and tugged on your meaty outer labia had you shot up and into your wits on a yelp.

You swore and rocked and tangled trembling fingers into his dark hair. It was the ideal amount of too much; and when he looked up from your pussy, you hissed at the salaciousness in his hazel eyes. You missed what he said because he was too many things. Mouth-watering and divinely sexy and utterly masculine. His lips grazed your wrist, sweeping words you didn’t give a damn about against the delicate flesh and easing you back down by his grip on your rib cage.

He delved into your sticky cunt, his tongue painting a wide stripe from bottom to top that had you shivering. Brazen and needy, your knees parted wide; your hips danced for his carnal kisses. Laid back for him again, he stole another harsh bite and sucked your clit until you nearly begged.

But he played you like a violin, keeping you suspended in want, not allowing you to tip over that edge.

Delirious, riding the endorphins and electricity in his fingertips, you vaguely registered that he shucked his jeans. You arched on a yearning prayer of thanks for the way he now pinned you with his weight and spread your thighs too far apart with his massive body. He undulated with you, matching the rocking of your hips because you couldn’t be still to save your life. Reaching between you, he lined himself up and surged forward to breach you with the plump head of his cock.

“Holy hell, Sackler!”

You choked, having only partially expected him to be carrying a goddamn torpedo. Amused, he licked your lips and pushed further in on languid strokes. He sunk into you maddeningly slow, drawing out pitiful whines, louder and louder until you slapped your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up.

“Uh-uh.” He tugged your hand away, pinning it down onto the bed and lacing his fingers with yours. “None of that.”

Concerned, you shook your head and chewed your own lips, but he bottomed out and you couldn’t help but swear again. 

“Fucking hell. Neighbors,” you eked out. 

The fiendish grin on his lips promised wicked things.

“Fuck the neighbors. Wanna hear you scream.”

He punctuated the last word with a mischievous snap of his hips, hardly withdrawing at all before surging back in. You felt socked in the gut. His dick stabbed at your stomach; and it wasn’t long before you did what he wanted. It burned deliciously. He fucked you all the way open and filled you completely. The wince you couldn’t hide was from both pain and pleasure. But as he knew it would, your body acclimated to him. The tension in your hips and legs eased, and you moved to accept him rather than limit the intrusion.

“Mm. That’s it. Open for me.”

He muttered things against your pulse, things lost to the whirlwind of lust. He wrapped one giant hand around the round swell of your ass, keeping you right there, right where he wanted. His rhythm kicked up, faster, deeper, and all the liquid in your body flooded south. Soon, the stab of his dick was accompanied by a vulgar squelch, an obscene sound to mark how much he affected you, how thoroughly he was wrecking you. A sound that made him switch from gripping your fingers to tangle in your hair. He held the back of your head tight to pull you down as he fucked up into you so forcefully your bed bounced against the wall.

“Fuck, that’s good.” He grunted against your jaw, lips dragging a line to yours. “Knew you’d be good, kid. Wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you.”

It was your turn to groan. You’d originally thought him talking to you in the midst of all this would feel silly. Because you knew he’d done it with so many others before; and surely, he had a script. But it lit something inside of you, something that was a little more than sex but still wildly fuckable. 

Adam’s breath broke into turbulent huffs littered with these erotic noises you didn’t think he could hold back. You clawed at his chest, trying to hold on tighter and hear them better because it was the best damn thing you ever heard. 

He tipped your face towards him with the gruff demand that you look at him. Barely, you managed it, but your eyes kept fluttering shut each time he struck gold in the deepest deep of your pussy. He said something else, but it was too much. Bravely, shockingly, you pressed your free hand over his mouth and shook your head.

“Less talk,” you pleaded, hoarse and on the edge of worn out already. “More you.”

Something savage shot through his shining eyes, turning them darker than you’d seen. He licked your palm and shifted to kneel between your thighs. Without breaking contact, he captured your legs and lay your calves on his shoulders. Your loud moans turned to raucous shrieks as he threw himself into you, roughshod and sloppy. With an iron grip on your hips, he leaned forward, tipping you into an angle that rattled you from your very core. His cock dragged against the most sensitive ridges, and you were sure you could feel his heartbeat hammer down through the shaft.

You lost your goddamn mind.

Teetering on the verge of oblivion, you froze. Arched like a bow, you fisted the sheets and quaked. Higher and higher you climbed, howling like a banshee. It was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you needed him to be tonight.

From nowhere, everywhere, his touch broke through the haze. Deft fingers wrapped around your screeching throat and squeezed. He growled, and you knew he felt your fractured breath, the pounding of your pulse, and every thrum of your battered vocal chords. It was a claim, a pure moment of primal to send you reeling.

He hung on until the end of an orgasm that shredded your senses. You could no longer shout, couldn’t open your eyes, couldn’t hear anything other than thunderous roaring in your ears. You curled towards him. Legs, arms, brow tight, the suspense before the bomb. But he slipped his fingers in between your puffy pussy lips and set off the explosion. You tingled from soles to soul, and it felt like it wouldn’t end. Inexplicably, you found some way to be louder, cursing like a damn sailor as you crested that wave. 

On the other side of it, you fell still and quiet. You yielded to the tempest, holding loosely to your tether of a man. Inside, you soared, hitting that amazing high you wanted. Flying in exactly the way you sought tonight.

Somewhere in the fuzzy exodus of your brain cells, he let go of your legs, pulled out from your quivering cunt, and shot his orgasm over the lower swell of your belly. You writhed and purred as he plied your shoulder and collarbone with kisses once more. His thumb rubbed your lower lip softly, and he nudged your nose with his the way he’d done earlier — a gesture that felt intimate and affectionate.

“Y’ok kid?”

Cracking your eyes open, you nodded and took as deep of a breath as your lungs would allow. Your body was pliant, relaxed and sated. The anxiety and tension tightening your muscles vanished, and the stress you carried for weeks was nowhere to be found. 

Exquisite.

Shifting to lie on his side, Adam tugged you closer, ready to bask in the afterglow. You had plans, though, and you wiggled up to kiss the corner of his mouth softly before sliding from the disheveled covers. Pushing a pillow under his head, he engulfed your bed nearly entirely, making it look far more appealing than it ever had before.

You almost told him it was ok to leave, but something inside said no. Besides, he looked awfully comfortable.

Naked and wobbly on your feet, covered in the evidence of your tryst, you crossed over to the little table lined up against the wall across from the bed. It was tucked almost into the corner, unnoticeable to most unless you looked for it or knew what you looked at.

Sinking to the floor in front of it, you stretched your arms above your head and tilted your head from side to side as you did whenever you settled to work. It was a ritual unto itself before the ritual. Readying your body to match your mind and heart.

Your eyes darted over the prepared ingredients, looking for the 30th time to be sure you forgot nothing. That’s when it occurred to you. Something unexpected always popped up, a curve ball the universe threw at you; and tonight was no different. Pushing to your feet, you hopped back into the kitchen for his gift. The sweet gesture he never could have expected would be so appropriate. 

When you turned to face the room, you found that Adam had slid from the bed and plopped down in front of your altar. He wasn’t touching anything, just looking, but he sat cross-legged where you needed to be. He noticed you watching him and held out his hand for you.

“C’mere.”

Cautiously, you took his hand and let him situate you between his legs, scooting you close enough to the altar to work but keeping you nestled in with his chest scraping your back. He stroked your hips, your spine, anything he could reach.

“What’re we doing?”

Your hand stalled because he said ‘we.’ You made it a rule to keep your craft private, for yourself only. You especially didn’t share the details with men because they liked to belittle things they didn’t understand. Adam, though, looked ardent in his question, and it birthed a warmth in your chest you’d not been ready for.

“I’m…” You faltered, trying to find a way to explain what was happening to someone who likely had no idea about any of this. But he nuzzled you like a puppy, and your smile led the way. “It's welcoming work.”

The way he sat up straighter, moved your hair to one side so he could see better, and leaned into you, threatened to melt you into a puddle of goo.

“I need to welcome a new city,” you said. “New job. New apartment. New opportunities and friends.”

You laid your head back against his shoulder as you talked, as though the intimacy you’d shared with him tonight had always been there.

“I’ve been waiting for the right time, and it’s a new moon tonight.” You pointed at your calendar, which tracked lunar cycles.  “Which is the time to work on beginnings, to set intentions for the future. All things begin in darkness; so, we start when the moon is darkest. And we face east,” you pointed to the wall, “because all things begin in the east.”

“What’s the sex bit?”

You beamed, feeling lighter and better than you had in a long time. You found yourself glad you didn’t hide your aim from him. You probably could have gotten away with it, but it wouldn’t feel like this. There wouldn’t be this comfort or this easiness to share.

“Sex is one of the best ways to raise energy. It gets your heart beating and your blood pumping. It's very potent.”

“You’re damn right I’m potent.” He puffed up like a peacock before smoothing out his tone into that sassy seduction. “Told you I’d spoil you.”

His boasting was alarmingly charming. You nodded along, because there was no way to disagree now that he’d disarmed and dicked you down you so thoroughly. Taking his cue to carry on, you tapped the different jars assembled around the little black bowl.

“Rosemary for protection. Lavender for calm and joy. Birch for beginnings. Hibiscus for love and passion. And now,” you plucked his flower from the corner of the table. “Carnation for strength.”

The proud way his chest expanded against your back did not go unnoticed. He was happy to have added something to the mix, even if he hadn’t done so on purpose. You grinned, patted his hand, and stage whispered ‘good job.’

Subtly, the moment changed, transmuting to quiet concentration. Adam drew little circles on your skin, falling into a serene silence while you worked. You placed a spoonful of each ingredient into the mortar. As you often did, you fell into humming a lilting song that connected you to the work. Pestle in hand, you ground it all together, concentrating on the melding of all of that intention.

You, your world, slid into tranquil. Your breathing fell into a pattern with his. The smell of sex and flowers blended beautifully. Dubious though you had been for him to sit here with you, he lent you a bolstering you couldn’t have predicted. Adam was doggedly sure of himself. He was solid, a surprising support with no measure of judgment. It was the sort of acceptance you wanted for all the parts of you, not just those people were used to seeing. Having him be that for you for this, in setting these objectives, was the last bit you didn’t know you needed.

Pouring the ground herbs onto a sheet of wax paper, you dabbed a bit of rosemary oil onto the slender green candle, making sure the column was coated. He cheekily held your bottom when you leaned forward and tipped off of his lap, suddenly concerned with ‘helping’ as you rolled the candle through the mixture. Carefully, you placed the dressed candle into its holder, being sure to not tap off any excess lest you lose that bit in the coming days.

Striking a match, you lit the wick and watched for a while as it burned. You felt seen, protected, ready. Shifting, you plucked a bay leaf from the waiting pile and wrote your planned words upon it. This was the last part, but you hesitated. Adam had been so kind, so present and willing.

“Would you like to do this part, too?” You offered a dried leaf to him. “Write what you want; and then, we burn it in the flame to send it out into the universe.”

“What I want?” His fingers made the leaf look ridiculously small, but he was gentle with it, taking care to not tear the edges. “Like a million dollars or something?”

You snorted playfully, handed him the pen, and settled against his chest. 

“Probably start with something simpler.”

You could wait however long it took him to decide. He set the leaf on the table, and you held it in place for him. It wasn’t easy to write on something so small, and you’d learned long ago to hold them down.

Abruptly, his free hand clamped over your eyes, and he jarred you to the left, still holding you but forcing you away from what he wrote.

“No peeking.”

You yipped, and you could feel him grinning like a fiend. When he finished, he helped you sit upright with both of his arms around you once more. He kissed your temple and returned to stroking your side slowly, his knuckles following the contours of your body. Holding your leaf to the flame, you watched the end catch fire and the black char consume it slowly, deliberately, as fire was wont to do. Matching suit, Adam pressed you tighter to him and lifted his leaf.

You gazed into the flame, content and not entirely paying attention; but he lingered, hovering just outside the light. Your eyes came to focus, and you saw his scrawled words. 

‘More sex magic’ on one side and ‘Be mine’ on the other, like a valentine.

Your breathing, which had become so mild and centered, hitched, which was what he waited for because, when he figured you’d seen what he wrote, he set it to the flame, igniting his own intention.

For a long moment, you basked in the feeling, the beautiful, beautiful mood. It was everything you wanted it to be without not knowing all the pieces and parts. You expected him to fuck you silly, but you had no way to know that he was supposed to be here for this. It would have felt lacking without him, though, and the realization of that fact had your hands seeking contact.

“Thank you, Adam.” You splayed your fingers at his outer thigh, comforted by how real he felt. “That was lovely. Thank you.”

He buried his face into your hair and pressed kisses to the nape of your neck.

“What do we do now?”

He shifted against you, hands turning a little more than affectionate. The stroking that was innocent at your sides turned devious at your breasts, kneading and plucking. A matching hot palm found your tender pussy and cupped it, not quite interrupting the moment but skirting dangerously close.

“We leave the candle to burn down.” 

“Hm. Think my wish is gonna come true before yours.”

You meant to laugh but gasped instead as a nip to your ear tripped a shudder down your spine. Adam’s thick fingers slid through the still slippery mess of your labia. He trapped you in this cubby made of his body while he fondled your clit, rubbing the slick nub in lazy circles.

“I do have a question, though.”

You had no idea how you were supposed to answer questions with him working your clit like that, but you still nodded for him to ask.

“If a little sex magic is good, a little more is better, yeah?”

♪ Got your spell on me, baby   You got your spell on me, baby   Yes, you got your spell on me, baby ♪

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler smut #adam sackler imagine #sackler x reader

[ktheist]

2 | exclusives only.

final installment to the to my dear friend series.

prompt.“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.” (x)

muses. jungkook x reader

genre. university au. fwb. f2l.

words. 8.9k

first installment. friend in me.

warnings. implied smut, mentions of name calling

synopsis. the goody-two-shoes. the girl who always sits in one of the front rows in class. that girl that has literal models as friends while she comes to classes in sweats.

you identify with all of these.

but what you don’t ever want to be known as, is that freaky girl who had sex at a semi-public place, in the back room of the student lounge with the most drool-worthy man at the faculty.

and that’s exactly what kim namjoon, your ex-boyfriend, manifested when he publicly announced to everyone from your faculty of your oh-so-sweet time together, “come on, ___, everyone wants to know if you begged me to be your first and how we fucked in the back room of the student lounge.”

x

the moment jeon jungkook’s name which you have saved as koo, flashes across the screen - time stops. so does your heart as you meet taehyung’s eyes which were just fixed on your phone before you flip it over and press the stickers engraved case with the your hand as though afraid he might be able to see through the aluminum and read the text jungkook sent you.

which is just-

koo: heyy

“um, excuse me,” jisoo, having been more focused on the group you lowly pointed out to be stealing glances your way and unlike you, she’s in the middle of raising her hand with an index finger pointing upwards, deep maroon lips pursed in annoyance as the group begins to whisper amongst them and looking back at your table as though in disbelief that someone would actually call them out, “yes, you guys - especially the girl with the fake channel jacket - ever heard of minding your damn business?”

“jisoo,” you hiss, yanking her hand back down and slamming it against the table, “i don’t care, they can say whatever they-“

“at least have the decency to be original if you wanna shit talk someone,” lisa speaks over you, as though she can’t hear your protest.

“taehyung, stop them,” you lean over the table in a hushed whisper, catching the man’s blank gaze whilst he slurps on his smoothie as though he sees nothing wrong with the whole setting. and it’s definitely not the nasty bruise around his eyes that’s impairing his vision - nor judgement for that matter.

“what?” he chirps, willfully unaware of the tension in the air.

“oh god,” you finally slump into your seat, head lowered in an attempt to let your tresses fall over your face and cover it as you pretend to rub the temple of your head, hoping - wishing a hole would open and up and swallow you right here and now.

hurried footsteps of the group trying to pretend like they’re not in a rush pass behind you. words like, “rude much?”, “ugh, we don’t even care”, “attention whore.” among other things echoing in murmurs into the air before the tranquil blanket of silence settles back over the vicinity.

lisa’s glare of death takes on a much cheerful light as she grins at the older girl as they high five over the table.

“guys, thanks but you didn’t have to do that,” is the first thing you say after you lift your head, a half-hearted smile on your lips, “i don’t really care and quite honestly they have every right to be here as much as we do.”

“sweetie, the fact that you were laughing with us just a minute ago and stopped all of a sudden means you do care,” jisoo says pointedly, deep maroon lips pursed together in a ‘don’t lie to me’ manner and once she sees your lips clamping together and possibly said lie getting swallowed into your throat, she continues, “- and that’s completely valid. they should’ve know to keep their mouths shut if they wanna eat here too.”

“okay, maybe i do care but i can’t stop them from stealing glances or pointing me out to anyone who doesn’t know me or doesn’t know how i look which i’m sure is just meh,” before lisa could interject, you hold up a finger, “i know i can look pretty at times,” you offer an assuring smile before sighing at your next words, “but honestly, at this point, i can literally hear the ‘that’s the girl that tricked namjoon into dating her last year’ everywhere i go and i’m kind of used it.”

“but you didn’t trick him and he started it first,” taehyung doesn’t exactly slam the cup onto the table but he doesn’t gently set it down either and the sound is audible enough the little corner you’ve booked for yourselves.

“does it matter? that’s what word has it around here anyway,” shrugging, you take a spoonful of the vanilla ice cream into your mouth.

“it sucks,” jimin, ever the listener and the one person who’s never put his phone down until now, finally speaks the word of the day - not a particularly profound one but they fit the situation, “but i mean, this’ll all blow over in a month.”

almost as though they share the same wavelength, lisa and jisoo begin grumbling out protests

“ugh, jimin.” lisa narrows her eyes at him, face contorted in disgust while jisoo gasps, wide-eyed, “park jimin, i raised you better than this.”

“what?” the man in question - questions, crescent eyes turning into a pair of full moons, shining with utter confusion as he looks he repeats the same word over an over again with increasing remorse, “no- seriously, what did i say?”

“it’s easy for you,” jeongyeon chirps from next to you, perfect nude acrylics gleaming mutedly as she holds a fry she stole from his plate in the air, “you’re a guy,” and only then she pops the fry into her mouth.

“where did she come from?” a frown etches itself onto taehyung’s face as he stares at the newcomer as though she grew another head.

“unless jeongyeon has witchery powers then my best bet is through the door,” shrugging, you pick up the vapor dotted cup, the sound of ice clicking against each other as you twirl the straw around gets drowned by the series of agreement from the two girls.

“what does that even mean?” with hair mussed from and eyes almost as wide as a mad man in search for the truth - the only thing he’s missing is an overgrown unkept beard - jimin’s raised voice brings you back to the issue at hand, spurred by jeongyeon’s ominously vague prophecy.

“it means,” you set the cup down after sipping on the chocolatey goodness , “guys get worshipped like some sex god when their body counts get exposed and people will be lining up to get laid by him but when it’s a girl who gets her, for once, healthy sex life and keeps to one partner like me gets ‘exposed,’” hands raised, you curl your index and middle fingers inwards in an indicative nature, “let’s just say it doesn’t really help me climb up the social ladder.” 

shrugging, you continue, “like yeah, maybe it’ll blow over like you said and our friends probably don’t care - they’re treating me the same but i can see our mutual friends becoming distant even though they don’t show but just this morning i went up to jennie kim was the to ask about the thing we have to do for a group project and i can kinda see it in her eyes. she sees me as that girl who begged kim namjoon to have sex with her, dumped him and got with the next cute guy of the century. and that impression of me is always gonna keep lurking in the back of everyone’s minds whether they do it consciously or not.”

a pause lapses in between you, not quite as profound as jimin’s jaw-drop is making it to be but maybe it is for him. the others continue to munch on their fries and jeongyeon just stole jimin’s drink, opened the cap and took a sip instead of using the straw, murmuring something about not taking any chances because ‘don’t know where his mouth’s been.’

it’s several heartbeats until jimin recovers from the load of information before he lets out an-

“oh.”

“yeah,” lisa nods, shooting him a ‘now you know’ look before turning to you with a pointed expression as though she’s ready to move on to a more pressing topic which was absurd because what else could be more pressing than your mid college term crisis-

“and you should say what you said just now to jungkook instead of ghosting him” 

-except the fact that you thought you were subtle enough in flipping your phone’s screen upside down and pretending like you were listening to whatever whoever was speaking.

all of a sudden, the heat of five pairs of eyes are on you. but those who are truly stricken by the news are jimin and jeongyeon, the latter’s gaze being unavoidable because she’s sitting smack dab right next to you, “wait,” a tense pause wedges its way in the miniature space between you and her, “you’re ghosting jeon jungkook?”

“i-i just-“ there’s something in the way her tone rises at his name and the sheer absurdity of it all that makes your heart wrench in guilt and discomfort, “i’m not gonna ghost him for forever-“

“you should though.” taehyung waves a fry in your face before popping it into his mouth.

“-i just need time to like, process everything. i mean, it happened just yesterday,” by the end of your attempt to explain yourself, you can feel your shoulder line falling as you sigh, back leaned against the chair, the fries no longer looking appetizing.

“it’s partly his fault for flaunting out your sex lives to the entire world,” taehyung points out.

“shut it, tae,” jisoo hisses before turning to you, “take all the time you need, sweetie,” she rests her cheek on your shoulder as she side hugs you, probably finally comprehending the level of confusion and frustration all at once that forbids you from texting jungkook back the moment he texted you which was just minutes after the car disappears around the intersection and his figure disappear from sight last night.

the moment jeongyeon stepped through the crowd and stopped next to you with the clack of her boots and the sheer ‘oh honey, you’re not ready for that talk,’ nature, you decided right then and there, if jeongyeon asked you to shave off your hair and hand it over in a tray, you would in a heartbeat.

“since ____ didn’t wanna say anything, i figured she did get you to sleep with her but felt bad about it,” the hand she kept tucked under her arm falls away to reveal the hundred bucks she’s holding in your face.

by then, you had a hunch of what she was planning in that wonderful head of hers but the weight of the tens of pairs of eyes had made you wary. it was jeongyeon’s plan, all you had to do was just run with it, not run it.

wordlessly, you took the folded note, smoothed the cripple out of it as best as you could before folding it in two and tucking it into your bra. the bouts of gasps that broke out was what gave you the push to meet namjoon’s gaze with a blank one and shrug, “what? i went through all the trouble to get you to sleep with me and put up with dating you for six months - i should at least get my pay,” murmurs echo through out the room as well as several ‘ooh’s at the revelation.

the man’s face had turned several shades darker. eyes trained on you like you were all he sees. like a predator to his prey. once upon a time, you might have found the way he was so rapt with something heartfluttering - attractive even as you sat at the bleachers, cheering on your secret boyfriend whilst he instructed his team through the mic. circuit breaker had never came out anything but victorious when kim namjoon was that focused. 

if only looks could kill, you’d be dead. 

“that’s right, it was just a bet we made in first year,” jeongyeon’s tilted crimson smirk had been tucked with something like wicked humor as her shoulder line jolted with her laughter.

first year, you were that lost kid who bent over backwards to be everyone’s friends and ended with none. namjoon knew that, like how he knew this was all a lie and yet perhaps that was why you could almost picture the brood of clouds looming over his head. the same look that would settle over his face as he shifted through courses of action to take for that one possible outcome that lead to circuit breaker’s victory.

your heartbeat stuttered when he began to stand straighter, arms crossed over muscled chest. his naturally tall stature had allowed him to look down on you like gum under his shoe, “quite pathetic that she had to beg to win a bet.”

the ground opening up and swallowing you whole right then and there had remained but a wishful thinking. the seconds seemed to stretch on for hours on end with gazes burning right through your skull. you could almost hear the ghostly whispers of “oh my god,” “who does she think she is?” “what a slut.”

“wasn’t that like a year ago?” somewhere from your other side, a snicker hit the air like a mockery and a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a familiar scent of lemongrass and musk. how your own arm went around his to side hug his waist had been a surprise to you too, the action was as natural as breathing.

“i mean,” jungkook drawled with a shrug, “kinda sad that you’re still hung up over a girl but i get it - i know how amazing ____ is,” with a slight lean towards the older man, the low murmur couldn’t have been any louder, “we did it on the side of the street once,” a gasp from the ever loyal audience, “the balcony,” another gasp, “under a bridge,” there isn’t any more gasps - the audience must have ran out of responses, “in the changing room,” just when you thought he was going to spell out every single spot you had sex at on the list, jungkook finally laughed, “honestly any place you can think of - but yeah, keep dreaming about the back room of the student lounge cause that’s probably the most adventurous a dude like you would ever be.”

the shock painted over jimin’s jaw drop, jisoo’s eyes glancing from left to right, jeongyeon’s pursed lips and muted whistle didn’t exactly go past you. but you were more focused on the way the man in front of you, the one you thought you gave everything to, was the one speechless between the two of you.

the smile you wore was a lazy one but the words you threw back at him didn’t bloom in your chest with satisfaction of retribution the way you thought they would, “get over it, namjoon.”

in hindsight, you should’ve known it would come back and bite your ass. but you didn’t think the reaction would be this immediate. by monday morning, you were already getting strange looks and one not-so-pleasant experience of hearing snide laughter as you passed a group of students with the faintest but clearest, “what a whore.”

by noon, your reputation was pretty much set in stones - though your closest friend circle tried to convince you that it wasn’t as bad as it seems. that was, until another group of students walked into the cafe and most of them kept glancing at you like you’re some wild animal in a zoo.

“oh!” you could almost see a light bulb going off on jeongyeon’s head - as though a thought just crossed her, “i forgot what i came here for but anyway, i got tea!”

“girl,” lisa raises her brows with an obvious ‘what-are-you-waiting-for’ smile, “spill.”

and from the way way everyone else is quiet but focused on the woman, including you, it’s safe to say lisa’s words spoke for all of you. knowing that she holds the sole attention of the people at the table, jeongyeon smirks playfully, “guess what?”

“what?” taehyung says plainly.

“you’re supposed to guess, idiot,” she rolls her eyes but recovers from the brunette’s lack of effort as she basically bounces in her seat like a ball of excitement, “kim namjoon got kicked out of circuit breaker! the dean himself had a ‘little word’ with him. just. now.”

it would have come off as a pleasant news - cheer-worthy even. if not for one simple fact: that the dean is none other than jimin’s mother.

“oh my fucking god, yes!” lisa yelps, while jisoo extends her arms across the aforementioned woman to reach for the giggling man on her other side, “come here, let me hug you park jimin!” since it’s a round table, it makes the notion of hugs more plausible but since lisa is sitting between them, she ends up sandwiched with jisoo’s arms around her and jimin leaning into her in order to let the rest of jisoo’s arms encase around his neck.

“to be fair, he got kicked out because he and tae got in a fight,” the bleach blond man chuckles, “so tae’s punishment is being professor yoon’s unpaid assistant.” the position doesn’t seem ideal but the three doesn’t seem to mind - they look like they enjoy it.

“it was worth it,” taehyung shrugs when he catches your eyes, knowing full well the wave of guilt that rushes through you so instead, you mouth him a ‘i owe you one.’

by the time lunch ends (for you and jimin at least since the others seem to have another free hour before their classes start), you find yourself taking up jimin’s offer to sit with him at the back instead of the fifth row from the front that was just perfect for a not-so-serious-but-not-so-laxed-student vibe. 

“hey, jimin - thanks,” you say in between the class filling up and him texting someone on his phone which he puts down on the table after your words of gratitude fill the air, “for talking to your mom for me.”

“that’s the least i can do,” he fixes you with a half-hearted smile - probably wishing he’d be able to throw a punch where it was needed but you know park jimin wouldn’t be park jimin if he wasn’t this adorable, good natured person with the kindest heart that could barely hurt a fly let alone a person. even if that person is a douchebag like namjoon, “‘sides, mom’s always preaching about equality for both genders and kim basically sexually harassed you, i’m sorry i couldn’t stand up for you like tae-“

“no, don’t say that,” you frown, hands tugging on his biceps. slipping your around the aforementioned biceps, you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the rising tension of your pursed lips, “everyone has their own friendship language - and finding a peaceful way to get back to someone who hurt your friend, is yours. so thank you for being you,” you pause just for the briefest moment when you accidentally meet the eyes of one of your friends - the flash in their eyes projecting their not-so-friendly thoughts at the sight of you, “thanks for being my friend, jimin.”

 something soft bumps the top of your head as you feel his neck crane briefly, “thanks for being my friend too- jisoo would beat your ass for saying this though.”

at the mention of the spirited friend of yours, you both break out into fits of giggles. “jisoo would probably buy chicken tie my to a chair while dangling a drumstick until i promise to stop saying ‘weird things.’”

by ‘weird things’ it meant thanking them or even projecting any form of gratitude which shouldn’t even be a thing to be grateful for because, as she would aggressively yet lovingly insist, and as jimin acts out, “she’d probably be ‘it’s obvious we’d be friends because you’re the baddest bitch - girl, you’re that bitch.’”

it’s even funnier when he tries to mimic her way of speech and tone. for a moment, as you continue to narrate what your two other best friends would have done in the setting, both of you laughing into each other’s faces, the watchful eyes don’t seem all that intimidating.

x

throughout the evening, you spend it with your friends. watching movies and sleeping over at jimin’s - since he’s the only one who owns an apartment and doesn’t have a cranky roommate, going to class with yesterday’s jeans and jimin’s stolen hoodies to which he looked slightly perturbed at the realization that that’s three hoodies he probably wouldn’t get back even though you promised to wash it and give it back. but he the matter seems to fly out the window once you stopped by mcdonald’s for breakfast.

you may or may not have neglected pending projects group work but your friends didn’t seem to care -jisoo and jimin were rushing to group meetings this morning but after lisa’s five minute therapy-esque session for you to stop apologizing for inconveniencing them when you thought they must have (they did) pushed back on a lot of plans just to spend time with you and make sure you’re okay, you’d finally turned the ‘sorry’s to ‘thank you’s.

it was some time when you were walking to a class you shared with taehyung, that his looming frame easily catches what exactly you’re doing on your phone and begrudgingly points out, “ugh, you’re still texting him? after promising you’ll choose yourself first?”

to be fair, it was a short and sweet text saying ‘hey, i’m fine. sorry i didn’t reply to your texts, just have a lot going on atm’ without any emojis but also no period at the end because you didn’t want to seem like you’re mad. but besides that, you’re not entirely sure what exactly you feel for jungkook because like taehyung said-

“he‘s a different kind of asshole,” his tone was light but if there’s anything a whole year of knowing kim taehyung did, it was catching onto the way his voice strains and his avoidance to look at you as he speaks, “does he even know what he did to you? what you’re going through right now?”

it was true that the after effect of jungkook listing out the places you both had sex at has finally come to bite you in the ass. but-

“nobody would’ve thought the things jungkook said would backfire like this,” and yet you tug on the sleeves of jimin’s hoodie, voice small.

the man’s abrupt stop forces you to stop too, leaving you no choice but to meet his frowning face, “everyone knows what stuff like that’ll do more to girls than guys.”

it’s the pause that you took. the hesitance that taehyung must’ve seen shining brighter than your reputation allows it.

“you know what- do whatever you want,” and with that he leaves you on the side of the corridor to stare at his broad back as he walks away.

there’s no way you’ll go up and sit with him at the back like you did with jimin. but it wasn’t the empty spots next to you that made your heart clench - it was the way he deliberately turned away from you when your eyes met as you entered and he took a seat.

it’s some time after the professor left the class, whilst your phone vibrates rapidly with onslaught of messages, do you finally pick it up with one goal in mind.

koo: oh okay

koo: hope you’re doing okay

koo: i’m here if you wanna talk

he hasn’t finished typing when you tap out a simple ‘sorry’ and switching to-

you: thank you really but i think it’s better if we don’t text anymore

only to see another blue bubble pop on the screen at the same time as yours.

koo: i miss you

x

by the end of the very, very, very long day, you’re finally able to throw yourself onto your soft plush bedsheets. your friends don’t know that taehyung’s mad at you and isn’t talking to you - his sporadic off-days being the reason for them to assume that this is one of those days.

and they didn’t really push you to talk either, choosing to give you space after they robbed you off yours by kidnapping you to have a best friend’s night last night.

much to your dismay, not even five minutes into melting into the comforts of your bed, your stomach starts growling like a wild animal that hasn’t been fed in weeks. despite distantly remembering finishing the last pack of ramen last week, you still drag your feet to the kitchen in search for a instant noodles that, after opening the cupboard, you confirm, isn’t there.

and that’s how you end up trudging down the streets with flip flops and hair poking underneath the hood of jimin’s hoodie. a surge of gratification shoots through your veins when you see the last cup of your favorite spicy ramen on the shelf. not bothering to go back, you take a seat at one of the high stools facing the wall-sized window after paying for it.

it takes a few texts and scrolling through instagram before the ramen is ready. but it’s jeongyeon’s panic-induced tone that takes up most of your time.

jeongyeon: ok so ik you’re gonna be mad at me but pls don’t be 

you: what issit tho 

jeongyeon: you gotta promise 🤙

with a growl of your stomach demanding to be fed, you place your phone down with a misspelled loophole ‘yea i pro mizz 🤙🤙🤙’

and if getting a certification as your faculty’s resident hoe isn’t enough, in that moment, with ramen dangling from your mouth and puffed cheek, your eyes stops on a brunette boy who stops dead in his track when he sees you.

somewhere on the smooth surface of the table, your phone vibrates with a pop up notification.

jeongyeon: ok so jeon jungkook texted me about you and i kinda told him he should ask you himself but then i thought it kinda indicated that something’s wrong 

another ping.

jeongyeon: i didn’t tell him anything else tho!!!

x

“i don’t know what to say - i’m sorry, didn’t think it would be this bad,” jungkook confesses, head hung low, hair hiding most of his face and disallowing you from reading his emotions.

after jeongyeon ominously told jungkook to ask you about why she can’t tell him anything about how you’re doing now, jungkook had rushed to your place because it was obvious that his texts would be left on read, “maybe i should’ve taken it for what it is but i-,” he’d stopped short of what he wanted to say before he’d met your gaze with wishing stars in his eyes, “i just needed to see you and make sure you’re okay.”

“it’s not,” you admit, “most of the time they just look at me like i’m some animal in the zoo but sometimes it still gets to me.”

“you didn’t seem like the person who would care,” he says smally, almost as though it wasn’t meant for you but for himself.

you want to laugh, “that’s cause that’s what half-drunk me is most of the time and you’ve only ever known her - but on campus, i’m that girl who walks in the hallway with her head down and wanna be as invisible as i can... because i hate conflicts and being seen means i’ll most likely get into some shit... like i did with namjoon.”

kim namjoon saw you when no one else paid attention. mostly because the outstanding ones in your batch were taking the spotlight in freshmen year. the positions became apparent a little over two weeks after the first class. and you were still wondering around, in search for like minded beings. instead of finding friends, you found a god.

or so what they call a once in a lifetime genius.

“yea- i don’t really know you,” if it isn’t for the way his head snaps your way and the heartbreaking strain in his voice, you would have had a better time holding out, “i don’t even know what your favorite color is but i promise i’ll never hurt you like he did,” when he meets your gaze, all control seem to seep out of you and all you want is to take everything back

“i’m sorry- i just- it’s stupid, cutting you off just ’cause of that-“ the sound chains of the swing echo into the chilly night air as you prop your elbows on your knee, torso bent forward while you cup your face with your hands, maybe if you rubbed hard enough the stupid will come off, “i know it’s nobody’s fault but then there’s tae and he was the only one who thought i should stop talking to you- but he’s also the most reasonable person in our friend group and i-“ you almost choke on pure air, “i’m sorry.”

and so you end up at a park a few blocks away, you choosing to sit on the swing whilst he leans against the monkey bar a few feet away.

“it’s not okay,” jungkook’s voice fills your ears - he doesn’t sound as mad as you thought he’d be but his words say otherwise.

until you hear the scrape of soles on dirt. and just as you thought he was leaving, a hand lands on your knee, “but i forgive you.”

the smile you see when you peek through your fingers is familiar. boyish like its owner but endearing all the same,“and nothing that makes you feel like your peace is disturbed, is stupid,” but then the smile down turns into a frown, eyebrows knitting together, “i just wish you told me so you didn’t have to go through this alone.”

“i wasn’t alone - i had my friends,” it’s right after the words hit the air and a flash of disappointment crosses jungkook’s eyes, do you belatedly realize that you were indirectly calling him a non-friend.

“right,” the smile he fixes you breaks your heart - even more so when you see how he’s struggling to be happy for you whilst pushing down the hurt in his eyes, “that’s great - it’s great that you weren’t alone.”

or someone outside of your exclusives-only circle. well, he was - he isn’t exactly someone you’d befriend like you would your current friends. but it must have sounded like he was demoted to a friend who you say hi’s to and don’t share personal hardships and happiness with.

“yeah,” you echo in agreement before biting your bottom lip, gaze switching from his hand to his arm and finally his deep brown eyes that appear hazel underneath the light of the lamppost, “can we still be friends?”

the short but straightforward, “no” on jungkook’s part echoes in the air.

it takes a moment for you to register the two-letter word, as if it’s the hardest to fathom and before you know it, your jaw is on the ground, after a surprised, “what-”

in all honesty, you were the one who wanted to cut jungkook off from your life - for an absurd reason at that - but still, with how he patiently listened to you and even forgave you, you thought he’d at least want to stay friends. maybe he doesn’t want to be that kind of friend anymore. or maybe he doesn’t want to be your friend if you’re not that kind of friends anymore. maybe-

“i don’t wanna be just friends,” the confession falls out from his lips when you least expect it. almost as though you weren’t the only one who could read the other like an open book.

but despite his confidence the first time, you still see the traces of hesitance in the way he takes a moment longer to continue, “i... i want to know you- not the drunk you, not the campus you, but you you.”

this time, you can’t control the trickle of laughter that tumbles out of your mouth. it’s dry and a little bit broken, but still comes from a humorous place, “you’re probably gonna be disappointed as hell.”

“is that a yes?” the flash of starlight in jungkook’s eyesmile causes your heart to swell with a sort of fullness. the chains clink into the air as he grips it with his hands, using them to hoist himself up - but he doesn’t stand straight. instead,he leans his forehead on yours, “say yes.”

the smile that slips on your face is involuntary. completely out of your control as you affirm, “it’s a yes.”

x

“so is that tae’s hoodie?” jungkook asks as you walk down the street to your apartment.

the “what?” that slips out of your mouth is more surprised than anything else but it seems like that’s what made the man rush out his explanation - which he didn’t really need to but you appreciate it anyway.

“it’s just- you’re not a hoodie girl,” you don’t miss the way he scrunches his nose as he struggles to find the proper words, you think it’s cute - you think jungkook’s cute, “you’re more like a sweaters girl - or like, that’s what i see you wear in the morning before you kick me out.”

chuckling, you relieve him of his curiosity with a “no, it’s not tae’s.”

he beams at you like a morning sun until you add, “it’s jimin’s.”

“o-oh,” he nods but doesn’t press on.

“he’s also one of my best friend - they dragged me to movie’s night and we crashed at jimin’s last night,” you say.

“oh.” the pearly whites peek from underneath his lips again, eyes lighting up like stars.

but then, before you know it, you’re standing at the entrance of your apartment. 

“thanks for walking me home,” on your part, you don’t really want to part.

“yeah, no problem,” if you didn’t know any better, jungkook’s foot scuffling against the dirt doesn’t really give off a willing farewell vibe either.

until you both blurt out at the same time-

“do you wanna come in?”

“i mean it when i said i missed you.”

an echoing silence settles between you for the longest moment - or in fact, just a second too long but with all that’s happened and the friendships you can see breaking, jeon jungkook’s is one you’re not going to let go that easily.

not again.

“come inside,” you say.

and this time, you’re not asking.

x

 jungkook’s breath is hot against your neck as you groan from the impact of your back and head hitting the door as soon as it closes, his hands under your thighs.

but you’re fast to recover, hands snaking up his chest until they reach his strained jawline, tilting his head and forcing him to look at you, “show me how much you missed me.”

 a familiar glint flashes across his eyes at your challenge before his gaze falls to the borrowed deep blue hoodie you have on, “take that off. now.” 

deciding against taunting him some more, you pull the piece of clothing over your head before dropping it next to the can of beer, snacks and energy bars you bought from the convenience store.

it doesn’t take much for you to lean into him enough not to let yourself topple over backwards - maybe it’s the hundreds of times he’s carried you like this, maybe he’s the only person you trust to grab you by the bottom of your ass and you’d instantly know where to wrap your legs around. 

or maybe, just maybe, you missed jungkook too.

but either way, you kiss him once after he slams you against your bed. you kiss him a few more times as he slides in and out of you like every crevice of your core is made for him. you’re in the middle of kissing him when he hits ghat sweet spot that gets you moaning mid-kiss. he doesn’t seem to mind as he bites your bottom lips, letting you ride your high whilst he dedicates himself to you. to your pleasure.

and you kiss him when he thrusts deep into you as you both reach a different kind of euphoria together, holding each other tightly as if the other would fade if you didn’t.

since your bed is a single bed and you were occupying most of it, you have to scoot to make space for an extra person. you let him have the pillow while you keep your head raised midair until he slips his arm under it, his other hand pulling your back against his front before he pulls the cover over you.

the digits in the corner of your phone tells you that you’re probably going to end up rushing to your 8 am tomorrow but at the moment, with the moonlight pouring through the window and a distant sound of cars in the main street filling the room, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here.

“it’s orange - my favorite color is orange, like the sunset,” you’re pretty sure your voice is half-slurred from the fatigue of the day creeping up to you, but jungkook surprisingly heard it right because-

“we should go sunset watching someday,” he suggests.

“mhm,” you hum, not opposed of that idea at all, “what’s your...” you drag out, shifting through words until you find the one you’re most curious about, “favorite dessert?”

“besides you?” he chuckles when you let out an involuntary gasp at his insinuation before humming in contemplation, “ice creams.”

“are you free this sunday?” you ask.

“yeah, why?” his voice is laced with a hint of wonder.

“let’s go to an ice cream parlor,” by now, you’re pretty sure he barely understands what you’re saying as your eyes begin to droop, “let’s do things people do outside of parties - i wanna get to know you, koo.”

for the longest moment, you thought it’s him that’s fallen asleep because of the lack of affirmation. 

that is, until he murmurs with the smallest voice, “yeah, i’d like that.”

x

you wake up to the sound of your daily alarm blaring across the room. but much to your dismay, when you slip your hand under the pillow -  which unnaturally becomes a texture of spiky but fluffy treads - you come to a morbid realization that isn’t there.

which means wherever your gosh darn phone is, you’re going to have to find it to hit the snooze button because you can’t sleep with that deafening noise but if you do get up, you won’t be able to fall back asleep.

that is, until a different kind of sound, one that knows your name, grumble out a, “___, turn that shit off,” while a hand band around your waist, pulling you into a whole body.

for the briefest moment, you forget about the sound, heart skipping a dangerous beat as your mind shift through your memories, searching for something you can use for a self defense before it finally settles down with a realization that the only other person who could be complaining about your alarm because they were in bed with you, is jeon jungkook.

“god damn it,” you grumble with eyes barely open and mind half-awake while you pick up each article of clothing that are strewn across the room, “where did you throw my phone, jungkook?”

the man in your bed slurs out some incomprehensible words, leaving you with nothing but your wits and your wills and a little bit of urgency because your roommate may not be home most of the time but she definitely is in the morning. her schedule is more unpredictable than yours.

after a good one minute, you finally found your phone not on the floor but under the sheets right next to jungkook’s thigh. considering you spent a good chunk of your remaining sleepiness looking for it, you’re now out of the sleep essence and wide awake.

it looks like you caused quite a stir. jeongyeon’s text alone amounts to 36 notifs while each of your friend private messaged you an average of 5-12 texts each. the lowest being jimin and lisa who teetered on the line of ‘hey jeongyeon told me’s and ‘text me when you see this’ while jisoo’s are full out capsing and taehyung is a mixture of jimin and lisa with a missed call.

but what you don’t expect to see among the pile of notification, is the one pushed to the bottom by your friends’.

“oh, wow, kim namjoon texted me,” you blurt out, not knowing that a slip of tongue would cause a burst of reaction from the sleeping male in your bed.

shooting up with the sheets still covering his head, he yanks them down and fixes you with a wide-eyed, disbelieving gaze, “kim namjoon what now?”

it takes you a moment to digest the fact that he couldn’t even form a proper sentence or even grope around on the bed to help you look for your phone yet a single name and a verb could literally shock the sleep out of him. but you’re not one to hold onto grudges so you casually say, “he texted me.”

when you don’t offer anything else, the man finally asks, “well... what did he say?”

“’hey,’“ you echo the one worded text before slinging your towel over your shoulder.

“and?” hurried steps follow you into the hallway, an awkward ‘don’t-look-pressed’ laugh accompanying them, “...what did you say?”

“why?” you turn around abruptly, almost causing your follower to run right into you before he quickly halts himself, eyes slanting to the wall as he scratches his unclothed chest.

“i- uh, i don’t know - just curious i guess,” he mumbles out.

at that, the chuckles you’ve been holding back spills out of your mouth like waterfall. he opens his arms for you when you slip yours around his waist, locking your hands on his back, “i didn’t reply but if i did, it’s probably to tell him to stop texting me.”

the heartwarming ‘oh’ that tumbles out of his mouth is followed by a tuck in the corners of his lips, doe eyes filling with a sort of heat that makes your heart skip a beat.

that is, until fear flashes across his face, “wait, what time is it? don’t you have 8 am’s on tuesdays? i should leave-”

“nah,” you shake your head, a smile making home on your lips, “i’m skipping. you wanna get breakfast at mcdonald’s?”

instead of an affirmation, jungkook’s panicked face turns to a frown, hands coming to cup your cheeks as he twists it from left to right, as though looking for something and you know why-

 “who are you and what have you done to sober ___?” he demands.

laughter trickles out of your mouth as you struggle to get out of his grasp while he demands you return you back, “___ would drag my ass to the door at ass crack o’clock when she has 8 am’s. bring her back!”

but in your fit of giggles and his exorcist-esque shouting, jungkook stops and pecks you on your mouth, “just kidding,” you don’t think you can ever get used to that boyish smile of his, “i would love to have our first sober date at mcdonald’s.”

as if a giggle switch has been switched on, you laugh some more, cheeks hurting and tears pooling in the corner of your eyes at the way he makes it sound like you’re asking him to a date.

and you’re not quite against that idea.

x

so you find yourself at the mcdonald’s five minutes away from your campus. if you have any fucks at all to give, you would be worried about meeting your casual friends. but something about jeon jungkook and your friends’ - your real friends - endless support from yesterday has turned you into a woman of steel. or, really, just mixed party-you and sober-you together.

“apparently he wants to get back together because he thinks it’ll help fix everything but i know he just wants to save his ass - oh, did you know the dean, jimin’s mom, kicked him out of circuit breaker?” you casually say before chugging on your coffee before the sound of someone choking a whole lung drums in your ears.

turning to you with flushed cheeks and post-lung cough, jungkook demands, “you can’t just dump things like this on me- you gotta give me a warning first.”

“i did,” you counter, and just as his face spells ‘when?’ you quickly add, “at home - when i said kim namjoon texted me.”

“babe, that was 30 minutes ago,” jungkook says, in a matter-of-factly.

but all you hear is the name he calls you, “i kinda like that.”

he smiles shyly but still say, “what? babe?”

“yes,” you place your phone on the table, forgetting the open text as you lean closer to jungkook before enunciating the word “babe?”

his hand finds its way to your chin while yours slip underneath his shirt as he guides your face to his lips. but just before you’re about to kiss, the sound of voices - familiar ones at that - pour into the otherwise quiet vicinity. drawn by your curiosity, you tilt your head just the slightest bit to peak at the newcomers when you feel the heat of pairs of eyes burn into your head.

“shit,” you blurt out.

x

“oh my god,” jisoo gasps while lisa lets out a muted whistle, murmuring a “whew, chile, the audacity of some men.”

jeongyeon snickers as she leans away from lisa who’s holding your phone with namjoon’s text open, “i know what’s going on,” she waves a hand gun at you, “you’re doing great now and he’s sad and lonely-”

“or he wants to show the dean you guys made up so he can get into circuit breaker again,” taehyung chimes in, leaning against the chair, volunteering to pick up everyone’s order from the counter, “you know, just a thought.”

“no, no, no,” lisa interjects, “it’s more than just that with these men - he wants you to think that he’s the only one that can... ‘save’ you.”

“from what?” jimin asks, innocent round eyes looking around until jisoo sighs.

“god, jimin, it’s obvious,” she fixes him a pointed look, “___’s being labelled a manipulating bitch,” she turns to you and winks, “which you aren’t, manipulating - mean but a bitch? yes, and the baddest,” and then she shifts her attention to jimin, “and he’s saying if she gets back with him, he’ll ‘clear things up’ because apparently people tend to take men’s words more seriously than women and he knows that.”

“word,” lisa shakes her head.

“but ___’s not gonna get with namjoon because she has a jungkook,” jeongyeon’s proclamation isn’t entirely baseless yet the way all eyes turns to you tells you that it’s not exactly an established fact - especially when everyone at the table knows that you were ghosting jungkook just yesterday.

“i mean,” jungkook begins from next to you, fidgeting in his seat but avoiding your gaze when you turn to him, “___ can do whatever she wants.”

a pregnant silence lapses between you as you feel your friends exchanging dubious looks with each other. taehyung’s disapproving frown is the hardest to miss because it must have come across as jungkook not being serious enough with you.

but knowing the aforementioned man and how he never assumes your needs and wants - unless you’re having sex because he knows exactly how you like it - you know he doesn’t want to pressure you to be with him.

“i’m not getting with namjoon,” you announce for yourself, shooting the him a smile just before taehyung leaves to get your food.

“i’ll go help tae,” and with that, you skip over to the taller man, catching onto jisoo’s interrogative “so, are you guys like, exclusive now?”

“hey,” you greet the man that’s about to lift the tray of cheeseburgers, drinks, apple pies and mcflurries.

he echoes your greeting with a passive one and you both walk to the chili counter in silence. when he sets the tray down, you’re already picking up one of the tiny paper cups, “so, jungkook came and check up on me yesterday and stayed over to make sure i’m okay.”

he doesn’t need to know you had sex in between.

“he’s a really good guy - and he only said what he said just now cause he doesn’t want me to feel pressured to choose between being with him, or with namjoon or just being single,” you add when it doesn’t seem like he doesn’t have anything to say.

“i’m sorry for acting like a dick yesterday,” he finally breaks his silence with a one breathed sentence, his hand picking up the chili sauce filled cup off your hands.

and that’s when you see your opening, “it’s fine,” you quickly accept but stand your ground, “but jeongyeon also said something about a bet but you didn’t criticize her- i’m not trying to point out who did what worse but it looks like you’re more critical of jungkook because you don’t personally know him.”

“i thought i know a fuck boy when i see one,” he grunts like a sulking child.

“honestly, what does fuck boy even mean?” shrugging, you raised your brows at his okay-get-to-the-point look, “jimin’s kind of a fuck boy if you think about it but we love anyway.”

when he doesn’t seem to deny your allegations, you continue, “and if jungkook’s a fuck boy, then i’m a fuck girl because i-“

“uh,” he recoils like a teen getting sat down for the birds and bees talk,“okay, okay. i get it - spare me the details.”

rolling your eyes at his dramatic reaction, you end with a “see, name calling doesn’t make sense, not to mention hurtful to the person being called that name. they’re a a human being with feelings.”

it’s the ‘i know’ at the end that got him. even though he hadn’t seen you being taunted and ridiculed that day, didn’t mean it stopped. you were just good at masking it because you knew  better. knew that you had friends that would stand by you all the way - heck, jisoo even made a scene out of people looking at you the day before.

“i’ll try to not be so judgy,” taehyung announces before scrunching up his face, “but is him hanging out with us gonna be a permanent thing?”

“thank you for trying,” you fix him a proud smile as he picks up the tray to head to where the others are, “and he’s my friend too so yes, it’s going to be a permanent thing.”

“... say ‘cactus jack sent me’?” jeongyeon is in the middle of putting jimin up to walking over to the counter and saying the infamous line to the worker when you slip back into your seat.

“and travis scott’s burger,” and apparently lisa too.

jimin’s eyes disappear behind his lids as he chuckles at their attempts but he doesn’t exactly oppose the idea.

“hey,” jungkook’s eyes lights up when he sees you.

“so how was the interrogation session my girl friends?” you can’t help the devious grin that slips onto your face at the admittance that you may or may have not purposely left jungkook with your friends for the ice breaking slash interrogating session whilst you patch up your own friendship with your other friend.

“not bad,” he shrugs, “they even showed me your sleeping pics to scare me off but they forgot i wake up to that face almost every few days a week.”

at that revelation, your jaw drops to the ground, mind recalling the many times your open-mouth sleeping pictures have been sent into the group chat as a meme and it was not pretty.

“they did not,” your cheeks heat up as you make a mental note to gather everyone up and force them to finally delete that picture.

“don’t worry you’re not getting rid of me that easily babe,” unaware of the extent of the war raging inside you, he pecks your forehead and continues eating his fries.

x

“do i really look like that when i sleep?” you finally ask after clicking on the safety belt.

even though you could have rode with your friend in jimin’s car, jungkook insists to send you to class as a proper mark for the end of your first date.

“mhm,” jungkook hums casually as he turns on the car.

“and you still like me?” you’re not sure what kind of face you’re making but it has to be something between disgust and bewilderment because damn, he’s a real one.

“what?” he says between chuckles - as if he doesn’t see anything wrong with the picture and it makes your heart bloom with a sort of endearment while your core heats up with a sort of want.

throwing him a sly smile, you cock your head to the side, “get in the back.”

with a mixture of surprised and impressed blink, he doesn’t need to be told twice to unbuckle his seat and climb over to the back seat. long legs spread out to welcome you into his lap.

x

taglist: @gukksluv​ @illwritetomorrow​

shout out to my biggest bestest friend in me-loving baddest b @koochiekoo​ !!! highkey without you, i probably would take longer to finish but you’ve been super supportive and i love you so this fic is for you neinya!!!

note. the first part (friend in me) wasn’t showing up on searches no matter how many times i posted it and my earliest readers would remember it being called ‘to my dear friend’ before i changed it to fim bc i wanted to see if it’ll show up on searches but it didn’t. idk if this one will but i dont have much hope bc the preview also didn’t show up on searches (weird) but i have lost the rest of the f’s i have and decided to post this with a mindset that it’ll reach the right people though probably be less than 50 ppl. but i hope those who came this far enjoyed the fic!

#bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #fic: friend in me #fic: to my dear friend

[djxrxn]

a regular thing

fuse (ct-8902) x reader

wc: 1.7 k

warnings: alcohol consumption!! some explicit language, maybe some mentions/references to sexual situations

art used is by jangofctts!!!!!! fuse and the rest of the sunburst squadron also belong to jangofctts!! this is because keida ( @jangofctts ) as well as danielle ( @jango-fettish ) REFUSE to let the sunburst squadron be happy, so now i have to step in ugh, ridiculous. anyways enjoy!

Damn. You forgot how gorgeous Fuse’s smile was. 

It had only been a year since you wandered back onto your assigned base to find your squad was missing a member. Not dead, your commander had told you, just not here. There were snide comments, remarks told under breaths and in languages you neither spoke nor understood. They didn’t need some fucking mechanic trying to start a fight because a transferred clone had been insulted. 

Your commander - Fang, all sharp words and crooked smiles, a man you were nervous to talk to in the first place, let alone push him on a topic he didn’t want to continue talking about - had told you to leave it, leave him be. This was for the best. 

So you did. You left the thought of him behind on base, closing off the memories you carried in your chest to rot and slowly starve. Hopefully, one day, they’d be nothing, and you could finally wash Fuse off like the rest of the grease stains that littered your hands. 

That was so kriffing difficult, though. Every blaster fire, every stray explosion no one had planned for on the field, Maker, even a fly-away spark, and you felt sick. You missed him, you missed his warmth so much. You felt his absence in your fucking bones, your body physically ached. You worried, how was he supposed to stay alive without you watching his six? How was he supposed to get out of the trouble he caused without someone like you, someone who wasn’t hell bent on pissing off their commanders and brothers?

And how were you supposed to do anything without your partner in crime - without someone to ease your fears and anxieties, to calm you down so you could fix one last wire on the last speeder needed to get away from the Seppies. 

A unit - a duo. And now, you were alone. 

Stumbling upon him like that, watching him scrub the red off the plastoid armor… if you hadn't known better, you would have thought maybe something like the Force had brought you together. You supposed the Force had also pulled you apart, too, but-

Now here he was. 

Getting his ass to come with you to a club was easy enough. All you had to do was pay for his drinks - maybe it had been a year, give or take some time, but Fuse was still Fuse. 

Empty shot glasses littered the table. This late into the night, you weren’t really sure how many you had, you didn’t really remember much. Everything existed in a haze, a bright and vibrant dream. The music was almost too loud to hear your own thoughts, let alone the person you came here with. The patrons of the nightclub moved about, but the only person you wanted to focus on was right in front of you, a wide grin stretched over his cheeks — you never noticed the dimples in his cheeks, or the handful of freckles over the bridge of his nose. Up close, and with only him to transfix on, every detail was explicit and bright, the warmth radiating off of him feeling more like fire than a gentle spark. 

The feelings you tried to push away, the real reason you were so upset that you never looked for him, the fear that nothing would be reciprocated, all of it, it came roaring to the forefront of your drunken mind. He was beautiful, like a violent sunset, all fiery reds and deep oranges — you felt the panic flooding through you as you remembered that every sun crawls behind the horizon, leaving a cold and dark night in its absence. Nothing was forever. 

You tried to say his name, but it came out crooked and garbled, a mess of syllables and vowels, it didn’t sound correct. “Fuse,” you tried again. Better, but your words still slurred. 

Now it was his turn to say your name, and Maker, it made your chest ache. 

“I—” Did you want to tell him? You couldn’t un-ring this bell, you couldn’t go back. What if Fuse was still hurt and wanted nothing to do with you, what if—

You didn’t know when you were going to see him again. For all you knew, his new squadron was moving out in the moving, being shipped out to another moon or a Inner Rim planet, He would be gone just as soon as you had him again, and if this was it… 

“Hey,” you tried to shout over the music, “I love you.”

“What?” Fuse shook his head. “I can’t hear you, what?”

“I missed you,” you said. He rolled his eyes, but his smile grew a little bit brighter, and his eyes looked softer. For a moment, the past was forgotten and your Fuse was back. Every transgression had been forgotten, and for this bright and shining minute, you were better. 

“I missed my favorite cockroach,” Fuse laughed. “We have to do this again, huh?”

You tried not to be upset that you couldn’t say it, couldn’t fucking tell him. You wanted so badly for him to understand why you didn’t look for him. Fang was a terrifying commander, sure, but you and Fuse had gone around him and his orders before. No, the reason you didn’t look for him because you thought Fang was right, this was for the best. You couldn’t really be with Fuse, even if he did feel similarly. 

“I can’t let you go,” you said. “Not again.”

Fuse wasn’t sure — chalk it up to the whiskey, or maybe to the fact that Fuse had never paid close enough attention to you, to the way you looked at him like that, with eyes that almost looked misty, with a tight little frown forming on your sweet mouth - but to him, this felt so much deeper than the normal shallow of your relationship. This was not cut and dry, what you two had was not simple. Maybe it had never been simple. 

“So, yeah, this is gonna be a regular thing,” you added quickly. 

Fuse nodded. He didn’t want to think about what you meant. If you pushed on it, sure, you both could have that conversation. But he wasn’t running head first to be burned by you again. You could call the shots, and Fuse would follow. 

“Alright,” he said, shooting you half of a grin. “Fine by me, cockroach.”

You took a breath, glancing away for a moment. The lights around you glowed neon pink and purple, a haze of color and sound and life — your life had revolved around the war. You didn’t know where you would be without it. Out of a job you supposed, but then, you wouldn’t have Fuse, or any of his brothers. All the same, it was nice to get drunk in a dreamy club and pretend like you were normal sometimes. You could pretend that you were a normal civilian, and that you weren’t required to be on a military base in the morning, preparing for another battle, another violent and miserable day. You could imagine a life with someone, maybe with Fuse - making caf in a cramped kitchen space in a small apartment in the Inner Rim. You and Fuse could open a shop, maybe something repairing vessels, or blowing them up, fuck, none of the details mattered. The more you thought about it, the more you just wanted a normal life with Fuse. You wondered if he had ever thought about a normal life with you too - you really hoped so. 

When you looked back at him, Fuse was already staring at you - dark eyes and parted lips, his brow was furrowed up. Some dark thought was eating at his thoughts, tearing through him and overwhelming senses. You wanted to help him, you wanted to take his mind off of everything, you just wanted to heal. 

You worked with machines — you knew how to retire and reprogram and fix things to make it run smoothly. Fuse was not a machine, and he was not made of wires and parts. You didn’t know what to do to fix things, if there was even a way to fix the damage. 

Fuse leaned forwards, just a fucking hair closer, but it was enough to make it hurt. This was too much, he was too bright and too much, and you were suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to touch him. 

“Can I kiss you?” You stumbled over your words, and you were worried he couldn’t hear you again, but—

He surged forwards to reach you, his hands flying to cradle your head. Fuse’s lips were warm against yours, his belts were warm, he was so fucking warm, you felt alive. Every breath you stole between soft groans and nips of teeth came easy, releasing the tension that had been building in your chest all night. His tongue grazed along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth, and this was home.

How many times did you think about kissing Fuse like this? How many times did you imagine his hands instead of your own? This was everything you could have ever wanted, everything you needed from Fuse. You missed him so much, thought about him every moment, but this was worth it. Fuse could burn you in every way he knew how, and you would probably deserve it, but you would brave it all to kiss him again.  

“Can this be our regular thing too?” You whispered against his mouth. Fuse pulled away for a second, and you almost were afraid that he was about to say no. But he moved forwards again, silencing all worry in your mind as he kissed you again. 

“Yeah, it can be,” Fuse answered you. He wouldn’t mind at all if kissing you like this was a regular occurrence. His thoughts weren’t in order — not that he had excellent ideas sober either, but he couldn’t quite figure out how to sneak you onto base without Blanche or Blue catching wind of it. Fuse was trying to come up with a plan, something that no one would notice. That would be hard, especially if Sweets was on patrol for the night- 

It didn’t matter, he decided as you tugged on his bottom lip, your gentle hands crawling up his thighs. It really didn’t matter at all — his brothers would be fine with it, or they would get over it. Fuse just wanted you, and now that he had you? Nothing could take his little bug away from him. 

#hee hee hee #little bug #fuse and his little bug Do try to sneak onto the base #and sweets Does see them #hes just like im going to see how far these drunk children can get before something hhappens #not far #actually #little bug the n TRANSFERS #to be with fuse #there #everyone is happy now excellent #sunburst squadron #clone oc #clone original character #clone oc x reader #fuse #jangofctts #star wars #the clone wars

[keepyourpantsongohan]

And Many Happy Returns

A gift for @sloaners, one of the funniest, nicest and most talented people I know. You deserve nothing but good things, so here’s something made with the wish to make you smile. Please check out the collaborative pieces by @uintuva​ @tomicaleto​ @kiro-sveta and @ohayohimawari​​. | AO3 (Art/Writing) | Podfic |

                               ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It starts, as the best intentions often do, with a thirty-year-old man blowing out a birthday candle. 

“Happy birthday, Kakashi,” Tenzō tells him warmly. 

This warmth between them is both new and old. It aches of familiarity, and partnership, and all the things Kakashi has compartmentalized as something he ought to think about at a later date. But it is later, the moon shining down upon them in the wee hours of the night, his face bare to his companion. It’s a new world order, one where to Kakashi is the Sixth Hokage, and the village is bustling with migrants from all its neighbours, and where he lets someone look at him the way Tenzō is doing, like he has done something incredibly right. 

Kakashi wishes Obito were here to see this. He likes to think it would annoy him a little, even if this was exactly what he had suggested. 

“So how does it feel?” Tenzō asks, smiling. He sets down the cupcake, knowing Kakashi isn’t interested in sweets anyway. “Your first birthday as Hokage. This should be a day that the whole village celebrates.” 

“Maa, you know I don’t like parties,” Kakashi says, ducking his head as if a villager might pop up somewhere with a confetti canon. He reaches out and lets his fingers brush Tenzō’s. “This is fine with me.” 

Tenzō sighs, all fondness. “Well, you have to at least let me show you your birthday present.” 

Kakashi raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Did you bring something?” 

Tenzō shakes his head. “It’s more of something I get to show, actually.” 

It’s very tempting for Kakashi to make a joke at that, but his thought is soon cut off by a gleaming light in the sky, a bright blue-green speck making its way from far up above them, heading downward quite suddenly. For a moment, he thinks it could be a shooting star. Yet it doesn’t look much like a star to him, particularly not when he realizes whatever it is is hurtling not only towards the ground, but towards them. Kakashi’s mental calculations suggest that the meteor will land before they get a chance to move. 

It is all they can do to brace for impact. Kakashi feels his chakra gather in his palms and raises his hands so that he might be able to form a chidori. Beside him, Tenzō’s hands form a serpent seal and a wooden dome suddenly encloses them. A futile effort, given the speed and force of the object, but one Kakashi appreciates nonetheless. 

What surprises him, however, is when the meteor passes straight through the barrier, lands in their laps with a groan, and lets out a frustrated, “Ow!” 

Kakashi’s brain tries to catch up to the situation. They’re alive. They’re alive, and so is their meteor. Except it’s not a meteor, it’s a mint green man, who has appendages jutting out from his neck that dig into Kakashi’s thigh. Kakashi’s eyes rove over the man’s back, taking in the familiarity of what he is facing. 

“Obito?” asks Kakashi incredulously. 

“Obito?!” Tenzō repeats, his voice rising an octave. “Your Obito? Kakashi, isn’t he supposed to be dead?” 

Kakashi says, before he can think much about it, “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” 

In answer to their questions, Obito finally rolls over, confirming what Kakashi already knew. Obito’s face and body are the same as they were at the height of the war by all accounts. Scales, tomoe, and horns decorate his body, but what draws most of his attention are the brushstrokes painted across his stomach, reading, “Love, Kaa-san~”

A hand thrown over his eyes, Obito grumbles out, “Your mother says, ‘Happy birthday,’ Bakashi.”

—

Tenzō’s first order of business is to find out how this happened. Obito’s first order of business, as soon as he is able to stand on his own two feet, is to stare at Kakashi. 

“Wh— That’s— You’re handsome!” Obito accuses, outraged. He points his finger at Kakashi’s uncovered face. 

It’s unclear if Kakashi’s face is flushed from the impact of Obito’s words or the impact of his body flying at them from space. “Uh, thanks,” Kakashi replies weakly. 

“Can we go back to Kakashi’s mother?” Tenzō asks, waving a hand in front of them. “How many people are back from the dead?” 

“Just me, so far,” says Obito, a little defensively. “Kaguya’s immortal, so it’s not like she was dead in the first place.” 

“Kaguya,” Kakashi echoes flatly, eyes drifting up to the night sky. Tenzō’s gaze follows his, staring up at the moon, suddenly conscious of every moment he and Kakashi might have shared under the moon’s light. “My... mother?” 

Obito claps his hands together, distracting Tenzō and Kakashi from their respective existential crises. “Right! She said this would help explain.” 

Then, without preamble, Obito steps towards Kakashi, places his hands on either side of his face, and pulls him forward into a long, enthusiastic kiss. Kakashi’s hands drift upward, hovering over Obito’s sides. Though Tenzō can’t see both of Kakashi’s eyes, he does see one of them widen and shut, as a bright light pulses from Kakashi’s forehead, blowing his hair upward with an accompanying breeze. They draw apart, with half-smiles on their faces. 

“Oh,” Kakashi says, as if the situation makes any more sense. He looks at Tenzō. “Can you tell him too?” 

Obito nods. Tenzō tries not to jump when Obito leans towards him and their lips meet. As they do, Tenzō’s eyes are flooded with images, first of a woman with three eyes and long silver hair, and then of a man who looks just like Kakashi. The images flash quickly from the woman holding a small child, to passing through rips in the universe, to the remnants of Obito’s chakra being pulled into the moon. It is not unlike being awoken from a genjutsu.  

When the last memory passes before his eyes, Tenzō pulls away and says, “You know, all she said you had to do was touch us. Any reason you chose a kiss?” 

Obito’s mint green skin turns a bright shade of orange. “Hey— Well... Kakashi, help me out here.” 

“It was a pretty good kiss,” Kakashi offers in reply. “Eight out of ten, at least.” 

“Six and a half,” says Tenzō. “He bit my lip.” 

Obito grumbles under his breath, “Some people like that,” while Kakashi laughs.

—

“Remind me again why we’re staying at Yamato’s place and not yours, Bakashi?” 

Kakashi tosses a pillow at Obito, which, to Tenzō’s mild regret, he catches. “Because my place is the Hokage’s residence. Your chakra signature is too noticeable. Not to mention, the horns.” 

There’s far more intrigue in Kakashi’s last few words than Tenzō finds comforting. 

Obito and Tenzō lock eyes. “He looks at me judgementally,” Obito complains, pouting. 

“That’s because I’m judging you,” Tenzō informs him, just a little bit amused. “Consider me your rehabilitation sponsor.” 

Obito winces. “Doesn’t me dying count for something?” 

Tenzō regards Obito speculatively, weighing the consequences of an honest answer. Strangely enough, the man seems sincere. One of the orbs floating by Obito’s head brushes against Tenzō’s cheek, like a sulking cat seeking attention. “No,” says Tenzō, this time smiling outright.

Tenzō brings his attention back to Kakashi. He roots through one of his utility pouches, and shortly deposits what he finds into Kakashi’s palm. “This was supposed to be a gift for you,” Tenzō explains. “But now I suppose it makes more sense to give it to both of you.” 

“A key,” Kakashi observes, turning the wood over between his fingers. His mask, now back in place, doesn’t fully hide the flush creeping up. 

Tenzō nods, and with a few hand seals, a duplicate is in his hands. “I like my house the way it is,” he tells Obito, closing his fist over it. 

Without waiting for a reply, Tenzō crosses the room to head upstairs. Aside from Kakashi and Obito likely needing their own moment to speak, he feels the beginnings of a headache forming behind his eyes. 

As his feet reach the third step, he hears Obito say, “What am I supposed to do with that?” 

“You might try being helpful,” Tenzō calls out from the stairwell. 

—

Obito decides to take Yamato—Tenzō, as Kakashi keeps calling him—seriously. He spends the next morning in Tenzō’s kitchen helping out. The fridge doesn’t have everything he needs, but he saves time by going out into the garden and encouraging some of the fruits to grow with his mokuton. Food hasn’t been a necessity for Obito for a few years, so he takes care in arranging it, hoping that if it isn’t tasty, it’s at least well-presented. 

Obito is attempting to place seaweed on rice in an appreciable impression of a cat’s ears when Tenzō comes to stand beside him. 

“Is this for Kakashi?” 

“This one is for you,” Obito says, gesturing. “The other one is for Kakashi. His box has a rabbit.” 

Tenzō eyes crinkle at the corners. Obito is beginning to recognize the motion for what it is, a reflection of the way Kakashi smiles, when the mask is in place. “Thank you. I can bring it to him, if you want.” 

Obito mulls over the offer. “We can go together.” 

“I don’t know if that’s—“ 

Obito closes the box, and uses his free hand to wave off Tenzō’s concerns. “Don’t worry about it. It’s too early for him to have any visitors. Besides, I want to see if he really wears those robes like Old Man Third.” 

Tenzō shakes his head. “How are you planning to pass through the village unnoticed?“ 

Obito taps his temple, right beside his sharingan. “Kamui,” he says, both an explanation and a warning. 

“Obito—”

In one fluid motion, Obito tucks a bento box in the crook of his arm and grabs Tenzō’s elbow to yank him forward. Moments later, they stand in front of Kakashi, who looks surprised but pleased. 

“What brings you two here?” 

“Your lunch,” Obito declares, sliding the box across his desk. 

Kakashi rests one elbow on the desk, leaning his head on his palm. “What’s the occasion?” 

“I didn’t give you a gift,” Obito says, and then freezes. 

At once, both he and Kakashi realize what Obito has said. Kakashi is looking at him the same way he did the night before. His stricken look and doubt from the war is gone, replaced by something warmer and softer. Obito feels his face heat up. 

“There’s nothing you need to give me,” Kakashi says quietly. He hasn’t stopped looking at Obito. 

“I want to,” Obito tells him honestly. It feels freeing to say it. 

Kakashi finally breaks their gaze. “That’s good to hear,” is what he says, reaching for the bento box. Their fingers brush. 

Though Obito can feel Tenzō looking at them, he finds himself distracted in Kakashi’s face. The war feels only like yesterday to Obito, but he can see new lines on Kakashi’s face that hadn’t been there before. Lines beside his eyes to accompany his smile, a tan line peeking up from where his mask has not sat evenly on his face, and a line between his brows that reminds Obito he is standing in front of the Sixth Hokage. 

“Kakashi, I—”

What Obito is going to say, even he cannot predict, but he is spared from answering by the door to Kakashi’s office suddenly bursting open. 

“Sakura, Sai,” Kakashi greets the two teenagers casually, as if there is not a six-foot-tall formerly dead rogue ninja in his office. “What’s going on?” 

Sakura stares, disbelief written on her face. “I could ask the same question.” 

“It’s a long story,” Tenzō says, raising his hands in a warding gesture. 

The boy, who must be Sai, blinks, looking oddly unaffected. “Kakashi-sama, is this some kind of test?” 

“Would you believe it if I said yes?” Kakashi asks.

Sakura gives him a withering look. “Not even a little bit.”

Though Sakura is the one Obito expects to be gawking at him, given that she was present when he died, her ire is directed towards her teacher. It is Sai who looks at him with focused curiosity. Well, Obito supposes people don’t encounter a jinchuriki with his appearance every day. “If you have something to ask, just say it,” Obito tells him.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” Sai inquires seriously. He has a sketchpad in his hands, as if he were intending to take notes. 

“Why are you alive?” Sakura asks, reasonably. 

“It was Kakashi’s birthday yesterday,” he explains, before Tenzō grabs his arm and phases them both through the wooden floor. 

—

“Just stay put for now,” Tenzō demands, when they arrive in his back garden. “We’re lucky it was those two. If Sasuke or Naruto were in the village right now, there would’ve been much more of a scene.” 

Obito sits down on the engawa, feet sinking into the grass. “I was just helping out,” he says, shrugging. 

Tenzō takes a seat beside him. “Help less obviously.” 

“Kakashi wouldn’t take my apology,” Obito replies quietly. He brushes his fingers over a dandelion, letting it grow taller and wilder in his grasp. “But he would take my lunch. I know he still has thoughts about my past, but he won’t say anything about it. He just keeps looking at me like...” 

“...He’s happy that you’re alive?” Tenzō suggests. “He is. Believe me, he doesn’t look at just anyone like that.” 

“He looks at you like that.” 

Though his expression doesn’t change, Obito doesn’t need a sharingan to pick up the redness in Tenzō’s cheeks. “It’s complicated.” 

“Am I complicating it?” Obito asks sincerely. 

“A little,” Tenzō admits, to Obito’s surprise. The other man chuckles. “But I think you’d be complicating it whether you were alive or not. And I like to see him happy.” 

The words make Obito’s stomach tighten in a pleasant way. He takes a moment to take stock of his companion. It is easy enough to see what Kakashi sees in him, in his honest feelings, determination and loyalty. It makes Obito wonder if they can make whatever this is work after all. 

“I’m sorry for what happened during the war,” Obito tells him. “For what I did to you. I know what it’s like to be used. It doesn’t change anything, but—”

“It does,” Tenzō interjects calmly. “It helps.” 

Obito wants to say something more, but both of them turn their attention to the woods, feeling a familiar chakra presence rushing at them at full speed. 

“That’s not...” 

“It is,” Tenzō confirms. “Well, this was bound to happen eventually.” 

With that, a green blur rolls straight past Tenzō’s wards and jerks to a halt right at the edge of Tenzō’s property. “Yamato, my youthful friend!! Is it true that you and my rival are now living together in hot-blooded cohabitation?” 

“Does he really not notice me?” Obito mutters. Tenzō kicks him. 

“Not exactly, Gai,” Tenzō calls out. “He’s free to come and go as he pleases.” 

Gai, who looks every bit as energetic as ever, pushes his wheelchair closer to them. “Yosh!! Just like Kakashi!” Gai replies. “He wants to train harder before taking that next step.” 

When he is at arm’s length from the house, Gai turns his stare to Obito, narrowing his eyes with a concerned frown. 

“Hey Gai,” Obito says, waving. 

Gai lets out a thoughtful hum. “Yamato, your comrade seems... familiar. Have we met before?” 

“Seriously?!” Obito exclaims. 

This time, Tenzō elbows Obito. “Gai, I’m not sure if he looked like this that last time you saw him, but this is Obito. He's come back from... somewhere.” 

Gai’s smile fades. The seriousness in his expression looks out of place. “I see.” 

Obito takes a deep breath, and stands up. He bows his head a little, half in contrition and half because he thinks Gai would rather not look at him. “I’m sorry. Kakashi told me that Naruto’s friend, the Hyuga boy, was your student. I know that doesn’t change what I did, but you deserve to hear me say it. I wish I could bring him back—”

“Neji?” Gai interrupts him, his voice shaky. 

Obito offers one quick nod. “Yes, if I could’ve done things differently, I would—”

“Neji,” says Tenzō beside him, sounding shocked. “Obito, what did you do?”

It surprises Obito that Tenzō hasn’t already heard this story from Kakashi. He lifts his head to reply, when suddenly he catches sight of the source of their surprise. Standing beside Gai, unscathed, is the Hyuga boy who Obito had certainly impaled with mokuton. 

“Gai-sensei?” Neji asks, stepping unsteadily towards his teacher. “What happened?” 

“Neji!” Gai says again, pulling his student down into a tight hug. Gai’s eyes are full of tears, but his grin is blinding. “You’re alive!” 

“Not if you keep crushing me like this,” Neji wheezes, but he returns his teacher’s embrace, pressing his face to Gai’s shoulder. Some of the weight in the air finally lifts off, and for a moment, there is peace. 

And then the moment passes. Tenzō’s hand comes down firmly on Obito’s shoulder, turning them to face each other. “Obito,” he repeats soberly. “What did you do?” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Obito yelps. “All I said was that I wish I could take back what I’d done to the Hyuga kid—”

Tenzō eyes him doubtfully. “And that was all it took? Listen, I wish that I could bring Asuma back, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to show up at our next Mahjong game.” 

Obito wishes this level of suspicion was unwarranted, but he supposes his track record is less than stellar. “I don’t know what happened, alright? If you don’t believe me, ask the kid.” 

“Neji,” Tenzō asks, with far more patience in his voice than he had with Obito, “what’s the last thing you remember?” 

“The war,” Neji says, finally escaping Gai’s hug. He thinks for a moment, and then frowns. “And then some strange woman who claimed she knew Kakashi-sensei.” 

Obito and Tenzō look at each other. And somehow, from across the village in the Sarutobi District, the wind carries out three piercing screams. 

—

When Kakashi gets to Tenzō’s place that night, Obito is already fast asleep on the sofa, sitting up straight with his mouth wide open. One of the orbs that is always surrounding him bumps against Kakashi’s hand, not unlike Kakashi’s ninken do to greet him. Tugging the blanket over Obito’s shoulders, Kakashi smiles. “You’ve made a lot of paperwork for me, you know,” he tells his sleeping friend. Obito mumbles something in reply unconsciously, and Kakashi ruffles his hair, sighing. 

“You can’t give him all the blame,” Tenzō points out, emerging from the kitchen with his hands on his hips. “It’s a full moon this week. Strange things tend to happen.” 

Kakashi laughs. “You, defending Obito? It didn’t take him long to win you over.” 

Tenzō approaches him, settling a hand between Kakashi’s shoulder blades, a soothing warmth. “Only on a trial basis.” 

Kakashi closes his eyes. “You realize, as Hokage, I oversee all shinobi trials.” 

He feels Tenzō laugh at his back, the hand drifting to his side. “Maybe Obito was right, this system is corrupt.” 

“You can admit that you’re enjoying having him around, Tenzō,” Kakashi baits, tugging him towards the sofa. 

“I find his absurdity disarming,” Tenzō confesses. “It’s similar to how I feel around you sometimes, actually.” 

Kakashi pulls Tenzō down so that he can sandwich himself between the two mokuton users. “I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.”  

Tenzō leans on Kakashi, just as Kakashi leans on Obito. “You would.” 

Obito opens one eye. “You shouldn’t talk about me like I’m not here,” he mumbles, through a yawn.

“Go back to sleep,” Kakashi says, patting him on the cheek. 

For once, Obito listens. And so, tangled on the sofa is how they find themselves the next morning, when all three of them awake to a glowing purple egg gleaming innocently on Tenzō’s coffee table. 

#kakaobiyama #kakayamaobi #kakashi hatake #yamato tenzo #obito uchiha #might guy #kagumo #(in the background lmao) #team 7 #naruto series #mine #ayesha talks anime #collaboration #sloaners #sending big hearts ur way sloane #my obito is always dedicated to u

[hatterstan-shameblog]

The One With The Room Reassignment

Aguni needs a new room. For, well, reasons. Embarrassing reasons. Reasons that he’s trying not to disclose to anyone, least of all Takeru, who...well, you know how he is.

But it’ll all be okay.

Right?

(Because I simply could not have read this post by @missdrake without writing the Aguni prompt. I mean, come on, the opportunity for banter was just too good!)

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Rating: ‼️18+‼️ Do Not Interact If You Are Underage

Warnings: descriptions of sexual situations, referenced drug use, alcohol, threats of violence

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Of all the places Aguni could be right now, this has to be one of the worst.

It’s not that he dislikes Takeru’s room, per se. On the contrary, he actually enjoys the subtle opulence of the space, spelled out in caramel-colored woods and blue-green drapes.

It’s fancy, yes, but approachable. Comfortable, even.

But, in this moment, Aguni feels anything but comfortable. He feels antsy, he feels jumpy—he feels the angry little teeth of embarrassment nibbling at the ends of his nerves, and its making his palms sweat.

Are the lights in here extra hot, or is that just him?

...It’s probably just him.

It doesn’t help that Takeru is staring at him, those deep-dark eyes filled with their usual mix of subtle scrutiny mixed with glittering amusement and finished off with a dash of smug confidence—like a flourish of whipped cream atop a hot fudge sundae, if the whipped cream had the uncanny ability to see into a person’s soul and the hot fudge sundae was a lovable bastard whose modus operandi involved creating as much drama as possible.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” Takeru says—and he is so very feline, stretched into a graceful sprawl along the black leather sofa, his lips curled into a serene, sleepy smile around the lip of a champagne flute.

Aguni doesn’t even like champagne, but he’s been taking small, nervous sips from his own glass all the same because that is infinitely more manageable than talking. Except, well...because he’s not talking, the situation is getting more and more awkward by the minute.

“Didn’t expect you to be alone.”

“I’ve decided to take the night off,” Takeru says, rolling his shoulders back in a slow stretch of spine, “The games, the meetings, the endless parade of unfortunates looking for guidance and reassurance? It wears on you, Mori-chan.”

As if to illustrate the point, Takeru heaves a dramatic sigh.

“There’s something wearing on you, too, isn’t there? You look...pained?”

“I, uh,” Aguni swallows nervously. This is the part he’s been dreading for the last hour, and now that it’s here...well. All he has to do is stick to the plan and everything will be okay.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

“I...” Aguni gulps, “need a new room.”

Although his delivery leaves something to be desired in the “calm and collected” department, Aguni is quite pleased with himself for having managing to get the words out without blushing.

...Okay, he’s probably blushing a little bit, but Takeru hasn’t teased him about it yet, so it can’t be that bad.

“Oh? Why?”

Aguni’s jaw tightens. The problem with Takeru (one of the many, if he’s being honest) is that the man can be particularly difficult to read. Even after thirty-plus years of friendship, Aguni can’t tell what he’s thinking half of the time, which has left him in quite a few...situations. Difficult situations. Confusing situations. Awkward situations.

Situations like these, where Aguni’s brain is spinning like a high-powered carousel on a pottery wheel inside of a giant blender and someone keeps pressing the ‘pulse’ button with a giant hammer and it’s all very loud and very unpleasant.

“The bed,” he answers slowly, “uh, the bed is...broken.”

“Broken?”

Aguni takes another gulp of alcohol—too much for one swallow, and his throat spasms around the popping fizz of carbonation. He coughs slightly.

“Yes,” Aguni clarifies, “Broken.”

Takeru rolls his eyes.

“Always the brilliant conversationalist,” Takeru says, dripping with sarcasm and waving his champagne with a dismissive gesture, “We’ve established that the bed is broken, but you’ve failed to mention how it is broken, and since I do not know the extend of the breakage, I am unable to determine if you do, in fact, need to be moved to a different room. Space is limited, Mori-chan. I can’t afford to be frivolous about such things.”

Had he not been so focused on maintaining some semblance of composure, Aguni might have teased his friend for lecturing him about frivolity—but now is not the time for chit-chat. He is a man on a mission, and the success of said mission is dependent on his ability to, as they say, ‘get in and get out.’

“The frame. It, uh...snapped off of the headboard,”Aguni answers carefully, “It’s...I can’t sleep on it.”

Takeru’s eyes narrow.

“Ah. I see.”

Silence settles between them once more—only for a moment, but it’s enough to make Aguni shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“I can fix it,” Aguni adds, “I just...need a place to stay tonight.”

There is a flash of silver—Takeru is one of the only people Aguni knows under the age of sixty who uses a cigarette case, which is both charming and frequently inconvenient— and it’s only a second before the scent of smoke and nicotine fills the air.

“I suppose that’s reasonable,” he concludes—and it’s a weight off of Aguni’s mind and heart that Takeru hasn’t decided to ask him a million questions regarding the “why’s” and “how’s” of his current predicament.

Perhaps there’s a chance he can make it out of here (relatively) unscathed.

So, when Takeru offers Aguni a drag on his cigarette, Aguni doesn’t much read into the gesture and gladly accepts.

“Hm,” Takeru says.

“What?”

“That is...so interesting.”

Aguni hands the cigarette back to his friend.

“Not sure what you mean.”

“I’m just reminiscing, I suppose,” Takeru says airily, “about the last time we shared a cigarette. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Something blooms in Aguni—something bad and uncertain.

“I don’t—“

“Oh, it’s been years. Three, actually. And a half. Tell me, Mori-chan,” Takeru furrows his brow, “can you remember where we were three-and-a-half years ago?”

Remember the ‘something’ that bloomed inside Aguni just a moment ago? Well, it has a name, and that name is ‘intense discomfort.’ He knows where this is going. He knows he’s powerless to stop it.

“Don’t worry, my dear friend—I remember,” he says, closing his eyes and smiling to himself, “Halloween. Osaka. 2018. I was Freddie Mercury. You were Elton John. It took me ages to get all those sequins sewn on...”

Takeru takes one final hit from the cigarette before stubbing it out into a (decidedly lovely) teacup that happened to be conveniently placed on the coffee table in front of him.

“Isn’t that the year you threw the statue of Colonel Sanders into the river?”

Takeru sneers.

“You mean the year I threw Colonel Sanders into the river alone because...somebody ran off with the mascot from that mediocre takoyaki stand,” he snips, “and then had the audacity to show up two hours later asking for a cigarette. Do you know why you asked for a cigarette, Mori-chan?”

“Oh no.”

“It’s because you didn’t have any on you. Because you don’t usually smoke. Unless,” and Takeru positively relishes his dramatic pause, “it’s after sex.”

Aguni doesn’t say anything.

“You thought you could come into my house,” Takeru shouts, “after having mind-blowing, soul-shattering sex—the kind of sex that snaps bed frames clean in half—and I wouldn’t know about it?”

“But how did you—?”

“I heard you,” Takeru spits, “howling like...like some kind of demonic wolf in the light of a full moon!”

“I couldn’t have been that loud...”

“Loud enough to hear from down the hall,” Takeru adds, “frankly, I’m impressed. And a little jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“Of your lover. Nobody’s broken a bed fucking me lately, which is a goddamn shame,” Takeru sips from his glass, “Don’t suppose you’ll tell me who it was, hm?”

“No,” Aguni snaps, perhaps a bit too quickly, “making fun of me is one thing, but I won’t you have you making fun of my...uh, my...”

“Paramour?”

“...Sure,” Aguni says, “Look, the point is, it’s important that I—“

“Yes, yes, you’re about to lecture me about ‘privacy’ and ‘boundaries’ and all the things decent people like you are oh-so-interested in preserving,” Takeru says, rolling his eyes, “Believe it or not, I am capable of discretion.”

“You are?”

“When the situation calls for it,” Takeru muses, “or if it’s simply more fun to keep my mouth shut and watch the drama unfold. You having a secret lover ticks both boxes.”

Takeru jumps up from his seat and claps his hands together.

“So! I have decided,” he announces with great panache, “that I shall, in fact, give you a new room. A nice one, too. Maybe even nicer than the one you’re in currently.”

Aguni huffs a relieved breath.

“Thank you.”

“But!” Takeru flops down on the couch next to Aguni with all the grace of a fleshly-flipped pancake, “You have to do something for me.”

“I don’t—“

“You have to answer three,” and Takeru holds up three fingers in front of Aguni’s face, “of my questions. Truthfully. No skips, no take-backs.”

This is...well. This is not ideal.

Aguni considers his options. On one hand, he’s entirely justified in slapping Takeru across the face and shouting ‘absolutely not!’—and, honestly, Takeru would probably understand because, while he is an asshole, he is a self-aware asshole.

On the other hand, it’s only three questions. Maybe, if he’s able to keep Takeru on topic (a Herculean effort to be sure), Aguni can make quick work of getting a new room and, more importantly, getting the hell out of here.

“Fine,” he mumbles, “but make it quick. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, I bet you are,” Takeru says, “nothing wears you out quite like an evening of dirty, nasty, animalistic—“

“Takeru!”

“—Depraved, disgusting fucking,” and he makes a very disgusted ugh-ing sound when he notices Aguni shooting him a pointed glare, “Fine. Lovemaking. Whatever. The point is that you got it in real good and that’s enough to make anyone tired.”

“Dealing with you is making me tired. Please, just...ask your questions so I can get a room and go to bed.”

“Fine, fine,” Takeru says, and he makes a great show of thinking the matter over, mouth puckering into a pouty little frown before snapping into a mischievous smirk, “Question one: did you shower before coming here?”

Aguni sighs and looks down at his shoes.

“No.”

“Oh, that is gross,” Takeru shouts, clapping him on the back, “I’m so proud of you!”

Aguni rolls his eyes, trying his hardest to look unaffected by his friend’s prying. But he can’t hide the blush from blooming on his face, because this is all very mortifying and he doesn’t particularly enjoy the way Takeru is looking at him with a devious little smile.

“It’s like looking in a mirror,” Takeru says, running a hand through his hair, “a less-handsome—but taller—mirror!”

“Got a good two inches on you,” Aguni says, and he relishes the way his companion winces. Although he is not a short man by any means, Takeru has always been just a bit shorter than him—which has led to quite a few jabs over the years.

“Maybe in height,” Takeru quips, “but certainly not everywhere else, hm?”

It’s odd, but somehow, Aguni has not yet gotten used to feeling his soul leave his body. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s dying inside, letting the pain shine out directly from his face and hopes it slaps Takeru across the mouth so he doesn’t have to.

“I couldn’t resist,” Takeru says between chuckles, “You know how I am!”

“Unfortunately.”

But Takeru is too busy staring at him now to give one of his classically witty retorts. To the untrained eye, it would appear that he is carefully considering something. Because Aguni knows that the words ‘careful’ and ‘consideration’ are not part of Takeru’s vocabulary, he steels himself for whatever batshit-insane bullshit is going to come flying at him next.

“Now, I know the identity of your new squeeze is off-limits. Which I am sympathetic towards, because I am a sensitive and caring man—which, by the way, is something you should mention to any and all available singles you should happen upon throughout your travels...”

There’s just something about the way Takeru talks—and talks, and talks—that sets Aguni’s blood to boil.

“You know why it took me three years to get laid? Because you,” Aguni snaps, “wouldn’t stop fucking talking long enough for me to get away and meet someone.”

“Ooh, so bitchy! Seems like you could use a little more of whatever you just had,” Takeru runs a finger along the rim of his glass, smiling to himself when the friction creates a high-pitched hum, “if that’s a possibility, of course.”

Aguni feels a headache coming on. He runs at his temples in a (futile) attempt to stave it off.

“I don’t have time for your games, Takeru. If you want to ask me if this was a one-night stand, then ask me if it was a one-night stand.”

“Fine, then. Mori-chan,” Takeru places his glass on the table and turns to face Aguni. He pulls his legs up and hugs his shins close to himself, chin resting on his knobby knees—like a high school girl at a sleepover, “Did you give that mystery individual the fuck of a lifetime because you knew it was going to be a one-time thing...or because this is the start of something more?”

“I...” Aguni pauses, “I don’t know.”

Takeru’s brow furrows.

“Don’t look at me like that! I was, uh,” Aguni rubs the back of his neck uncertainly, “I thought we’d maybe have that conversation when I got back.”

Takeru tilts his head slightly to the left.

“Got back from where?”

“Here.”

“Mori-chan. Darling. Dearest,” Takeru places a hand on his shoulder, fingers gripping into the skin a little more with each passing moment, “do you mean to tell me that you...left your lover alone on a broken bed...to come talk to me?”

“No,” Aguni answers, “Left ‘em in the bath.”

“Oh my God...”

“What? I thought it was a nice gesture.”

“You are so cute and hopeless.”

Takeru scoots close enough to Aguni that their hips are touching, the arm that had been gripping his shoulder now slung around his mid-back.

“Picture it,” he says, reaching his other arm out in front of them as if grasping at a ghost of a dream, “your paramour—whoever they may be—sitting alone in a bathtub. Naked. Glistening.”

“...Glistening?”

“Sparkling, even.”

That is...oh dear. Aguni hadn’t thought of it like that. And now he can’t stop thinking about it. His mind’s eye is conjuring up a most hypnotic display, involving skin and steam and a crystalline droplets rolling down the length of a neck and—

“I put bubbles in,” he admits, voice soft and unfocused as he drifts in his daydream, “Lavender-scented.”

“That’s. Wow,” Takeru sighs, patting Aguni’s knee, “You’re a stronger man than I am, that’s for sure. I simply wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation. I mean, you could be in there right now, but...you’re here with me instead.”

Something breaks in Aguni. Something he hadn’t been aware of before now, but was apparently a very important piece of whatever was keeping him from grabbing Takeru by the lapels and shaking him with all the strength and rage that has been building up for the past twenty minutes.

Because that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s grabbing Takeru by the lapels of his weird robe thing and shaking him within an inch of his life. He’s also yelling, something like ‘give me the goddamn room’ but it’s hard to hear over the deafening rush of blood in his ears.

“Not...the...silk,” Takeru begs—well, as much as a man being maliciously jostled can beg—while his hands attempt to loosen Aguni’s own from his outfit, “She didn’t...do anything...wrong!”

Aguni stops shaking him, but not because he wants to—no, he very much wants to continue shaking this annoying man until his head snaps off and flies out the window—but because Takeru has started to take on a bit of a sickly greenish tinge and Aguni is not in the mood to deal with that on top of everything else.

“I will tear that tacky thing to shreds if you don’t give me a new room,” he seethes, releasing his grip on Takeru altogether and enjoying the way the other man falls back slightly as he’s let go, “I snapped a fucking bed frame an hour ago; I could tear that and you in half without even trying.”

“Okay, but,” and Takeru winces, “I just...there’s a bit of a problem. Not...a ‘problem’ problem, but...I’m very worried about how you’ll react after that little outburst you just had.”

Great. Of course there’s a catch. There’s always a catch with Takeru—but Aguni had been naive enough to think that his frustrating questionnaire had been it.

“There’s only one room available,” Takeru continues, as if he’s trying to calm a very angry horse or convince a toddler to do literally anything, “and it’s...well, it’s...the one next door.”

“You mean,” Aguni says very flatly, “the room next to this one?”

“Yes.”

“With the adjoining door?”

“Hit me if you want,” Takeru says, pressing himself against the arm of the couch and, therefore, as far away from Aguni’s anger as possible, “just...please don’t shake me again. My delicate constitution couldn’t possible take it.”

Aguni is reminded of a poem—the Robert Frost one about two roads in a wood or something like that. The way he figures, he’s got two roads in front of him right now: the ‘scream at Takeru and maybe shake him a little more and also refuse the room’ road versus the ‘it’s only one night and things couldn’t possibly get worse than they already are so take the room and maybe try to salvage the evening’ road.

Both are tempting.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said it was nicer than your current room. Good view, spacious, well-decorated,” he says, “Except for the credenza under the TV, that’s hideous. Wouldn’t be mad if you, y’know, decided to break that in the heat of the moment...”

Aguni must look positively murderous, because Takeru immediately switches into grovel mode, which includes various assorted platitudes and exclamations of ‘it was just a joke!’ and ‘please don’t kill me!’

It’s kind of funny, actually.

“Listen,” Takeru half-pleads, “I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m over here. Hell, if I smoke enough weed, I won’t know I’m here, which will work out just great! I slip into a light coma, you slip into a comfortable bed with your sweetheart, and everybody’s happy.”

“You just want an excuse to get high.”

“No,” he answers confidently, “I want you to be happy and I want to get high. Use my mind-altering substances for good, not evil. You know, like a superhero. Or maybe even Jesus.”

Aguni decides not to bring Takeru’s half-joking-but-not-really God-complex into question, because that would launch him into an hour-long tirade about the importance of self-love and how he would be an excellent choice for the next mayor of Tokyo. And maybe he wouldn’t be the worst mayor Tokyo has ever had, but...well. He might not be very good at it, either.

And maybe it’s because he’s incapable of staying too horribly angry at his best friend for very long, but Aguni concludes that it’s best just to take the room and let the situation go. He’s had enough drama for one night.

“Fine,” Aguni finally says, “I’ll take it.”

And he moves to stand before Takeru can suck him in to another conversation.

“You know,” Takeru calls casually as Aguni begins to walk towards the door, “I still haven’t asked my third question...”

“You have got to be kidding—“

“But,” Takeru quickly interjects, “I don’t have to ask, because I already know that the answer is ‘yes.’”

“Hm?”

“Yes,” Takeru concludes with a wry smile, “you are happy. Even when you were about to about to slap me, I could see it written all over your face.”

Aguni feels...embarrassed. Again. He’s truly been on an emotional rollercoaster since stepping foot into Takeru’s room, and it’s almost poetic that he has managed to start and end his journey with a begrudging blush.

“Now, go,” Takeru says, shooing him off with a roll of his wrist, “get out of my sight and into bed with that sexy little secret you insist upon hiding from the rest of us!”

Aguni doesn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly makes his way towards the exit, his legs taking slightly-larger-than-normal strides as he attempts not to appear too giddy at the thought of returning to his lover. Maybe they can test out the bathtub in the new room. Or the shower. Or maybe just hang out in bathrobes and talk?

Honestly, he’s just excited to see them again. A nice, soothing presence. Something to help him decompress after...whatever the hell that just was with Takeru. There’s a seventy-five-percent chance that he’ll stay true to his word and be stoned out of his mind by the time they switch rooms, and a twenty-percent chance that he’ll spend the night pressed up against the door trying to listen in. The other five percent? That’s what Aguni likes to call the ‘wild card allotment’ because Takeru is...well, he’s just the kind of guy to do something completely unpredictable, and he likes to plan for that.

“Remember,” Takeru calls out just as Aguni is stepping out, “Break the credenza!”

And Aguni has never been happier to shut a door in his life.

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

PS: the thing with throwing the statue of Colonel Sanders in the river is a thing that actually happened and I think it’s really funny so that’s why I put it in here. Plus, like. Takeru totally would.

#alice in borderland #danma takeru #hatter #spicy boy #alice in borderland netflix #aguni morizono #writings and such #this took so long omg but it’s DONE wow what a time what an adventure #listen. I just. we need more of them being actual buddies. #like. just guys being dudes.

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Hello! I’d like to request an imagine with Abby and a female reader, I was thinking something like they’re both on a mission and lose (not death) eachother because of how hectic everything is

(image reference by @cloudyreality​)

What a great idea for my first time writing angst! Thank you for your request  💌

This is a 3.7k fic in which the reader and other members of the Salt Lake Crew are called out on a rescue mission and things get chaotic.

Warnings: language, violence (against reader and others), mention of attempted sexual assault, death (no major character)

Mobile Masterlist

Archive of Our Own

A Close Call

You were ripped from your sleep by a firm hand shaking your shoulder. When you opened your eyes, Manny’s bearded face was inches from yours. It was still dark outside, the only light in the room creeping inside through the cracked door to the hallway.

“Get up, Y/N, we need you.”

You rose with a start, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and grabbing some clothes to put on.

“A mission? Right now? What’s going on?”

Manny filled up your water bottle and brought you another few supplies while you packed your bag.

“Scar attack during a patrol run. Owen just came back alone, Jordan and Leah are still out there. Jordan got hit, I don’t know how bad it is but we gotta get them out of there immediately.”

Quickly slipping on your boots and grabbing your jacket, you followed Manny out the door and to the garage.

Nora and Abby came in at the same time, carrying a metal box with medical supplies. Abby’s face was still pale from sleep but her eyes were alert and focused. Owen was standing at the back of a truck and marking the way to the others on a map of the city center. When he turned around, you flinched. He looked awful. His eyes were sunken in and there was no color in his face except for a dark purple bruise on his cheekbone. Yet, as he spoke, he sounded calm and collected, ready to get this mission done and bring everyone back safely.

“Alright, I left them at this bank here. The rain these last days has made the rivers downtown much more dangerous, I just tried to map out the best way with the Jeep but be prepared to continue on foot if needed. Jordan took an arrow to the hip and it somehow paralyzed his leg, we couldn’t get him out of there alone.

I need us to always stay together in a tight group, watch all possible hiding spaces for Scars, and get in the bank as fast as possible. Then, Nora has to try and patch him up as much as possible so we can take him back to the truck. Manny and I will carry him. I need you” - he looked at Abby and you - “and Leah to protect us and Nora on the way. Be as quiet as possible. Understood?”

You all agreed and Owen jumped in the driver’s seat while Manny sat next to him with the map to navigate. Abby lifted the metal trunk in the back of the truck and helped Nora up.

“You okay, Y/N? I can hear your teeth rattling from here.”

You tried a smile. “Thanks, Abby, I’m alright. Just cold and tired, I hope this works out as planned.”

She helped you up as well, then she jumped on and closed the tailgate, sitting down next to you and putting an arm around you to keep you warm. No one spoke, but as you leaned closer into Abby, Nora gave you a slight smile and a nod. You were going to be okay.

As expected, the flooding in the city was worse than usual, but at least the rain had stopped and the moon guided your way. You could already see the building Jordan and Leah were hopefully safe in at the moment when Owen suddenly stopped the car.

You stood up to see what was going on and swallowed hard as you saw the scene in front of you: rapids had formed in the river and were brutally ripping down plants and taking other objects with them. You had to get to the other side and, even more difficult, get back with the injured Jordan.

Everyone began moving silently down the stream, weapons drawn and forming a circle around Nora and her medical kit. When you finally found a more or less safe spot to cross, Owen and Manny went first, testing out the rocks and debris that had been wedged into each other to form a momentarily stable bridge over the rapids. Nora went next, silently jumping from step to step and keeping an impressive balance and smoothness to her movements. Abby covered you as you quickly crossed the stream and quickly followed your steps, placing her hand on the small of your back reassuringly as your team rebuilt its tight formation and started moving through the shadows towards the abandoned bank.

Owen led you to a side entrance he had covered with some wooden planks and the five of you quickly slipped inside. You were all on the lookout for infected but the place seemed clear, the rings of your flashlights illuminating the counters and smashed glass fronts, rotting bills of old money on the floor and finally the door to the back room where you could hear quiet voices.

Leah jumped up and drew her gun as Owen entered. A wave of relief washed over her face when she recognized Owen and Nora, the medic rushing to the injured man on the floor beside the dark-haired soldier.

“Oh thank god you’re here! I was so scared you didn’t make it to the base.”

Jordan was conscious but badly hit. An arrow was protruding from the top of his right leg right at the hip joint and a small pool of blood had formed on the floor underneath. Manny sat down next to Nora and helped her sort out her supplies. He loosened the makeshift bandage Leah had made out of some old fabric and tied around Jordan’s leg and hips. Nora was Isaac‘s best medic and she proved her reputation now. Completely calm and collected, she clipped off the arrow and started to strategically fasten bandages around Jordan‘s torso.

„I can’t take the arrowhead out here, it’s probably damaged some nerves, and pulling it out could make it worse. You need surgery back at the base. Can someone get me more fabric and something to make a splint?“

Leah quickly got some towels from a cupboard and started cutting it into stripes while Owen took his axe to some shelves and brought back a few long, slim pieces of wood.

You knelt down and helped stabilize the wounded wolf as Nora began fastening the wooden splints to Jordan‘s leg and hip, forcing him to stay completely straightened out so he wouldn’t fall or bend over and increase the damage to his hip.

Jordan would be carried upright, supported by Owen and Manny and using his healthy leg to move with them. A stretcher would make a bigger target and immobilize those who carried it; you were still in a war zone.

You helped Nora pack her things while the men got into position and Leah and Abby discussed the best defensive formation for the way back. Abby was going to go first and keep an eye out for any movements, then the three men, then Nora and Leah in case Jordan needed help, and finally you to watch your backs.

At the front door, you took a final breath and braced yourselves, then Abby gave the signal to move. The first steps went better than expected. You were moving fast, the only sound being Jordan’s quiet panting as he gave his last bit of strength to get back to the truck.

When you were almost at the crossover, you noticed something in a first-story window across the river. The woman clad in beige and brown saw you at the same moment. She pulled out an arrow from behind her head in one swift motion and cocked her crossbow just as you screamed „Get down!!! Ambush!“

Suddenly there was movement. You ducked and the arrow intended for your head soared over your shoulder so closely you could hear the feathers on it whispering in your ear.

Hooded figures emerged behind pillars and burned-out cars just as you pulled your gun and shot at the woman in the window. Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, then her head tipped back and she vanished from sight.

There was no time for shock, you had to protect yourself and your team. Abby was fighting a large man with a giant hammer, but you could tell she would be fine. Jordan had slung his arms over Owen‘s shoulders from the back and held on so he would stay standing up while Owen had his hands free. He was shooting at Scars further away while Manny was dealing deadly blows to a younger man‘s head with a metal pipe. Leah was covering Nora with a shotgun and blasting away through the empty car windows. You stepped out from the shelter of the house front and scanned the other buildings for more archers, ignoring the screams of anger and pain around you. Protect the squad. Watch your backs.

The man Abby had fought was lying in a puddle of his own blood. She was further away from you now and fighting two younger scars at once. One of them slashed her arm with a knife and she howled out in rage. Your first instinct was to scream out her name but you stopped yourself. It would distract her and allow the scar couple to catch her off guard. She was furious, pulling two knives and lunging forward at her attackers. They stood no chance, red hot blood spilling from both their throats as they looked at each other with an expression that seemed surprised, but not scared. They staggered towards each other and fell to the ground, choking and wheezing before finally laying still.

Abby had already moved on to help Owen fight a man with an axe that had come dangerously close while he had to take a second to reload.

Suddenly a rush of panic made you whirl around and look up. An older man with a bow almost as tall as him was standing on a first-floor balcony, aiming directly at you. You pointed and shot exactly at the same time he let go of the arrow.

Too slow. You watched the arrow come towards you in slow motion, undeviating from its owner's last target. Your attempt to dodge the sharp silver dart came too late. The tip sank into your shoulder as you watched the man fall forward and hit the ground with a dull thump.

The others hadn’t noticed what had happened. Leah was fighting back to back with Manny, Nora was crouching behind her trunk and shooting at a woman running towards her, Owen was holding up Jordan behind a pillar and shooting at several scars still behind the cars and Abby was in another bloody fight with two men with a hammer and a knife.

Your shoulder didn’t hurt at all. It just felt like someone was pushing you back, trying to tip you over. Stumbling backward, you scanned the buildings trying to find other scars on higher ground before they could hurt your friends. A sense of calm waved over you. You had done your job, there were no other Seraphites hidden to attack from behind. The gun in your hand dropped to the ground, the metal clank strangely loud in front of the fighting noise.

As you fell backward, you could hear the rushing of water underneath you. The rapids were screaming at you, daring you to take up a fight with them and lose as so many others had before. The surface felt like a brick wall when you hit it, then the current pulled you under. The water was ice cold, thousands of needles pricking you at once and suddenly there it was. Agonizing pain. Your shoulder felt like a fire had been lit inside of it and it was burning your lungs from the inside, eating you up and leaving no room for anything else. You let out a terrified scream that was swallowed by the water around you.

You needed to get to the surface. Breathe in air before your lungs could fill with water. You kicked and thrashed about, trying to find your way back up without moving your wounded arm. Finally, you burst through and gasped for air, your functioning hand desperately grabbing on to plants and scraps of metal at the water’s edge. How far had the water carried you already? Were the others ever going to find you?

You managed to hold on to a branch and pull yourself onto the riverbank, the water relentlessly continuing to pull and tear at your feet. Your teeth were chattering and you couldn’t feel your hands and feet, breathing becoming the hardest task this day had given you.

„It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re just going into shock, it’s okay, they’ll find you, just breathe,“ you kept whispering to yourself as you lay on your back and closed your eyes.

You could hear shots echoing from the walls of the buildings and screaming; they couldn’t be far. After a last, deafening shot, there was silence. Owen was talking, he sounded exhausted but okay. Apparently, no one had gotten badly hurt. Suddenly you could hear Abby screaming.

„Y/N?! Y/N!!! Where are you?!“

You had never heard her this distraught before. Her voice was cracking and her yelling was high-pitched and panicked. Now everyone was screaming your name and running around. You tried to take a deep breath and answer but only produced a gurgling sound.

„Y/N?! Fuck, check if she was pulled behind one of the cars or into the building. Did these pendejos take her?“ That was Manny. He was close.

„Abby, come here! Her gun!“

Someone was running. Metal scraping over concrete. „Y/N!!! Are you down there? Fuck, you think she fell in? The rapids, oh god-“

It sounded like Abby was close to crying now, screaming and pleading your name as she ran along the river.

„She’s not in here, I checked.“ That was Leah. „Shit, did she fall in the stream?“

„I don’t know, her gun was next to it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, please let her be okay. Do you guys see anything in the water?“ The usually so collected and strong soldier sounded absolutely terrified.

You tried to answer again. It was only a whisper, but you kept going.

„Abby, I’m here. Please come. Abby.“

Your whisper became a mumble, your raspy voice refusing to work with you, but you concentrated and tried again.

The steps were close. You took a deep breath. „Abby.“

„Y/N?!“

A blonde-haired head peeked over the broken off concrete over your head. Abby looked horrible, tears leaving white streaks in a mixture of blood and dirt on her pale skin, her lip cut open and bleeding and strands of hair sticking to the drying blood on her face and neck. When she saw you however, her face lit up and she screamed out „She’s here! Come quick!“

With a single jump she was next to you, pulling your upper body onto her knees and lifting your head so you could breathe better. Manny and Nora were there in a heartbeat. The dark-skinned woman pressed a hand to your shoulder and raised her eyebrows.

„Another arrow? Jesus Christ. Y/N, listen to me, you’re gonna be fine. I’m going to get that thing out of you as soon as we’re back at the stadium. I'll patch you up a bit now, but we really need to get moving."

„That’s okay,“ you whispered. „I’m just so cold.“

Abby immediately took off her jacket. Nora stopped her.

„Wait, let’s get that wet jacket off first. We’re gonna have to cut her out of her clothes anyway.“

She grabbed a knife and quickly freed you from your soaked, ice-cold army jacket, then she cut off the long arrow a few inches from the entrance wound. The medic was quick to press some bandages around the wound and form a sling out of strips of fabric to fixate your arm to your chest. When she was done, Manny helped prop you up and wrap you into Abby‘s jacket. It was coated in blood, but still warm and most importantly, it was dry.

„Everything okay down there? How long until we can move?“ Owen yelled.

Nora closed her metal case. „We’re done for now. You can start moving Jordan to the crossover, we’ll be right with you!“

Abby gently pushed her arms under your body and pulled you towards her. You wrapped your healthy arm around her neck and she followed Manny and Nora back up to the others.

„I thought I’d lost you.“ Her voice was quiet, her eyes still alarmed and scanning the perimeter. You sank your head against her chest and found comfort in her warmth.

„I know, me too. I thought I’d drown.“

The blonde inhaled sharply and held you tighter, not able to look you in the eye.

„I should have paid more attention to you and protected you. I'm so sorry.“

Before you could reply, you had reached the stepping stones through the water. Leah, Owen and Manny were helping each other carry Jordan over to the other side, deeply focused but still on edge for any possible attackers. Nora was next, pressing her medical kit to her chest and hopping from one safe step to another in concentration. You and Abby went last. She carried you like it was nothing, never losing her balance in the slightest while Manny and Leah were watching the area attentively with their guns drawn.

When you finally got to the Jeep, the others made a bed of blankets in the back for Jordan and you. Leah sat cross-legged with her boyfriend's head in her lap and Abby lifted you up on the platform next to him. She climbed up and pulled you close to her again while the others got on, still on guard. Owen and Manny jumped in the front and Owen hit the gas.

He was driving as fast as possible without throwing you two around in the back. Nora was already preparing Jordan for surgery, he would be the first in the operating room. Manny tried to radio the stadium entrance so they would get everything ready for your arrival but had had no luck so far.

Abby was rocking back and forth slightly, softly caressing your hair and face with her rough, bloody fingers. The terror in her eyes still hadn’t subsided, she was staring through you and chewing on her bottom lip.

„Abby.“ It took all your strength to form the words that were fighting to get out. „This wasn’t your fault. We all did the best we could. It’ll be okay.“

She flinched and looked up, letting her eyes wander over the buildings around you.

„I should have watched your back. I didn’t even see you fall.“

Her eyes were glinting, tears dangerously close to following the paths that had been carved out for them earlier. You put your healthy hand over the soldier's and were surprised to find she was shaking.

„Listen to me, Abigail. I don’t blame you for any of this. If you need my forgiveness, you have it. I know you did all you could. Will you please forgive yourself, too?“

Her mouth became a harsh line as she wiped away the tears with the wrist of her free hand. She turned her head and raised a hand, probably to greet the wolves at the entrance to the base. You knew you wouldn’t get anything else out of her.

Abby had this habit of making everything her problem, her responsibility, or, in the worst case, her fault. It had been that way when those men from the outpost had followed you one night after drinking too much a year ago. You had watched a movie with Abby and Manny in their room and walked back to yours when the hunters emerged from the cafeteria. They had come on to you from the back and tried to hold you down but they didn’t know you and weren’t expecting you to be a trained fighter. You brought them up to speed in less than a minute and they were out cold long enough for you to get Isaac, Abby, and a few other soldiers to be there when they woke up. Isaac had them thrown in his prison wing and you hadn’t seen them since. He probably tested out some tactical ideas on them and you didn’t mind one bit.

Abby however had been inconsolable. She didn’t speak for a week after, infuriated with herself and convinced the attack was her fault as she should have walked you back to your room and watched your back. You had tried to get her to calm down and let it go for weeks, telling her over and over that nothing had happened and you could take care of yourself. She had probably never really gotten over it, even though she had slowly become her normal self again.

This had to be a hundred times worse. You had actually gotten hurt today, and none of it was Abby’s fault but you knew there was nothing you could say. So you just held her hand and pressed yourself closer to her body, closing your eyes and waiting to arrive at the medical tract.

Luckily people were already waiting for you, instantly carrying Jordan inside on a stretcher and offering you one, too. Abby just told them to get out of her way as she carried you in the second operating room and laid you down on the cold table.

“I’ll stay right here all the way through, I’m not leaving. You just keep breathing.”

The pain and disappointment in her flat voice were heartbreaking. You squeezed her hand and nodded. “Thank you, Abby. I’ll give my best.”

When the medics came in to get you prepped for surgery and put you under a light anesthetic, you were almost asleep anyway. Abby cleared the space for them but stayed in the corner of the room like a statue, grinding her teeth in thought as she stared at the table beneath you.

You knew you had to make this right somehow, you couldn’t let Abby beat herself up over this forever. As you drifted into a sedated sleep, you promised yourself to spend every day at Abby’s side until she was laughing again. This woman was everything to you and you would show her. You would love her so much she had to finally forgive herself and let go of all the regret to make way for better things.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #the last of us 2 #abby tlou #abby simp society #abby anderson fic #abigail anderson #angst

[renegade-skywalker]

still living rent-free in my head at all times are Atton and the Jedi Exile...

---

It was strange being on a ship like this - small, cozy, meant for shipping cargo instead of armies. Eden's room on the Harbinger had been devoid of any home-like comforts, and while this hunk of junk lacked any finesse, something about the ship’s exposed parts grounded her, settling her nerves. She ran her hand along the vessel’s unfinished walls, almost tasting its metal tang in her mind, as she made her way back to the cockpit, comforted by its imperfections.

The ship was modest, boasting only two dormitories and a cramped common area that also shared square footage with the ship’s lone refresher. Something about it seemed familiar, lived-in, though Eden knew she had never been on a ship like this. It was as if she had seen it in a dream.

“How’s she doing?” Atton’s voice crept from the cockpit, sensing Eden’s presence as she approached. Eden smirked, wondering if her footfalls were really that heavy as she daydreamt.

“Surprisingly well for someone who just lost a hand,” Eden said as she entered the cockpit proper, watching her own left hand as she flexed it in and out of a fist. “Not like you’d care, though. Right?”

“Heh, true,” Atton mumbled, still fussing with the ship’s controls. “Of course the only space-worthy ship on that sorry ball of magma would be twenty years old, and rigged to boot. This thing is a relic, you know that?”

“What makes you say that?” Eden asked as she sidled up alongside the navigational chart, glowing white-green as it enticed her towards its map. The display was outdated, she had to give Atton that, but nearly everything she’d come into contact with on Tatooine in the last few years would have been considered ‘old’ by industry standards. “Rigged, I mean, not old. Old is obvious.”

Atton glanced at Eden over his shoulder, his eyebrows shooting up across his forehead, disappearing into his hair, as he allowed himself a brief moment of surprise. Eden smirked. She’d only known the guy a few standard hours and already she had developed a hobby of catching him off-guard.

“The commands, mostly,” he said eventually, turning back to the console, “Most ships have standard commands depending on the make, but this one seems to have been coded in a specific key. It’s not impossible to decipher but it’s annoying, to say the least.”

“Coded?”

“Common in drug-running, it’s a defense tactic of sorts. Instead of an alarm system to alert the authorities, it's meant to dissuade anyone from flying it at all by making it complicated. That, and it’s meant to reroute system logs so it’s harder for anyone snooping around to access the ship’s navigational history. Hey, while you’re over there, do you mind-?”

“On it,” Eden confirmed, already keying in a sequence. But the map before her only jolted, as if glitching momentarily. She tried again. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Atton affirmed, turning full in his chair this time. “Have you tried-?”

Eden typed in another sequence and looked at Atton again, shrugging more emphatically.

“Like I said, nothing.”

Atton slumped in his chair, looking at the screen from his vantage point, baffled. “Weird.”

Turning around again, Atton began typing furiously away at the pilot’s console, muttering to himself as he made quick calculations and tested other sequencing commands, inputting codes and apparently coming up empty judging by the unintelligible syllables that escaped his mouth in response.

“I thought you said it wasn’t weird for drug-running vessels to do that?”

“It isn’t, it’s just… the system would have given you an error code, or something. The fact that nothing happened is weird. We’ll have to try some back-end codes if we have any chance of unlocking the nav chart, but we can worry about that later. Or not at all, since I plan on taking the next transport off Telos as soon as we land. If that’s even an option.”

“You and me both,” Eden said, still playing with the galaxy map, marveling at the expanse of it all. It had been a while since she’d traveled, and longer since she considered how big the galaxy even was. “Any idea where you’d want to disappear?”

“Disappear?” Atton tensed at that, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he adjusted his ribbed jacket. Eden expected Atton would want to leave as many lightyears between him and whatever had landed him on Peragus as he could manage, but maybe there was more to the story.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said after a few beats, trying to act cavalier. “I have a few places in mind, though sharing them with you kind of defeats the purpose of vanishing without a trace.”

Atton glanced back at Eden, his eyes wide before he snapped his attention back to the console computer again, muttering, “No offense, or anything.”

Eden laughed lightly, the feeling almost alien given everything that had happened of late. Quickly quieting, she bit her lip and allowed herself a breath before picking up the conversation again, oddly at ease.

“None taken,” she said, “No witness, no crime, right?”

“Something like that,” Atton laughed, though a clear sense of uncertainty laced his voice. “Though I’d argue all three of us are just as guilty of blowing up the entire economy of this sector. I flew the ship, sure, but it was only to save all our skins.”

“I appreciate that,” Eden said, “Though I’d counter and say that Kreia’s assailant is to blame more than the three of us.”

“Hah, right. Try telling that to the Republic officers that eventually arrest us at the ends of the universe for the impending fuel crisis of the century.” At this Atton truly laughed, the weight of what had just happened finally sinking in. “Shit.”

“Well, it’s not the first time I was responsible for something that would affect the entire galaxy for decades to come,” Eden sighed, her finger lingering over the green dot the chart labeled Dxun - moon, quickly changing the subject before Atton could question whether she was being earnest or not. “So what do you think this ship was used for before we hijacked it?”

“Drug-running, I’m guessing, but I doubt Kreia had anything to do with that. Though I’m curious…”

“Curious about what?”

“How someone like her would acquire a ship like this.”

“I don’t think it’s that weird,” Eden shrugged as she finally abandoned the navigational chart and sunk into the co-pilot’s chair. “An old woman looking for any means of solo transport with little money? You see the way she dresses, I doubt she has a fortune at her disposal. I’m sure a spice runner with a price on their head would part with as few credits as they could spare if it meant an easy way to dispose of their crime-history-addled ship.”

Atton made a face at this, considering her logic, but did not tear his eyes away from the pilot’s console as he continued to type away.

“I guess the only thing I’m left wondering is whether Sleeps-With-Vibroblades was on her tail before or after this ship’s acquisition,” Atton laughed at his own joke. “So… what happened?”

Atton didn’t tear his eyes away from the screen but only gestured to her vaguely. Eden paused, looking down at herself, confused, and back up at Atton again.

“To what?”

Atton tsked.

“Don’t give me that. There were plenty of times back on Peragus where a lightsaber would have been helpful. So - where’s yours?”

Eden narrowed her eyes, shaking her head in utter confusion as she wondered how Atton went from how Kreia came in possession of this ship to… lightsabers. The fact that Atton couldn’t see her facial journey to better understand her bafflement didn’t help, either.

“Let’s leave my lightsaber out of this,” Eden sighed, “It’s a long story.”

“Oh? I thought a Jedi was supposed to be married to their lightsaber. Guess I heard wrong,” he quipped, acting coy.

Eden rolled her eyes.

“So, were you a single-hilt or one of those double-bladed Jedi?”

Now Eden knew that Atton wasn’t only preoccupying himself with the ship’s unique code language for the sake of deciphering it but was also using it as a means to avoid her gaze while he asked the usual questions other spacers did upon suspecting her affiliation with the Order. Typical.

“Double,” she answered dishonestly after a beat, watching Atton side-long for his reaction.

“Hm,” he said, unexcitingly, “I hear the twin blades are harder to master, but they can make enemies stampede over each other running for cover.”

Eden crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes now as she watched Atton do his best to appear nonchalant, truly annoyed with him now.

“You know quite a bit about Jedi for being so averse to them,” Eden accused, but Atton only snorted in response.

“I fought in the war, remember? It was hard not to notice,” Atton said, “I saw a lot of Jedi use double-bladed sabers first-hand, gave them more slaughter per swing.”

Eden winced, unhappy to have the memory revived in her mind’s eye at the mention of it.

“You didn’t go red, did you?”

Eden wanted to roll her eyes again, but instead she paused, a wicked smile taking over her face.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, doing her best to sound sincere. "Redder than a laigrek’s eye.”

Atton jolted out of whatever he was doing to avoid her gaze and actually jumped in his seat, and Eden couldn’t hold her serious expression long enough to relish in the longer con she’d planned the moment the words passed her lips.

“Maker, you’re pathetic,” she laughed, “What color saber do you think I had? I’m curious if you can guess correctly, Mr. ‘I Drink and I Know Things’”

Atton smiled unsurely, trying to appear in on the joke despite the fact that Eden had actually managed to startle him.

“Lemme see,” he said, affording her an honest glance after gathering his wits. Atton looked her up and down, assessing what he could of her upper half that was visible to him from the pilot’s chair with an expression of mock intrigue, an idle hand stroking his non-existent beard in thought. “I’d say green, but that might just be because your eyes are green, so I’m gonna nix that guess and say… blue. No - yellow.”

Eden only raised her eyebrows in response, crossing her arms even tighter over her chest.

“Purple? Violet? I dunno, those colors are the same, right?” Atton asked, shaking his head. “Are there… more colors? Sith are easy to guess, but Jedi--”

It’s was cerulean, she thought with an internal laugh, realizing the inanity of it. Neither blue nor green, but pale and somewhere in between. Single hilt but dual wielded. Both her long and her short sword were the same shade of pale seafoam, wanting to emulate Kavar’s blue saber, truest blue as the Guardian he was, but also green in honor of her brother and her then-Master, Atris, the only Master willing to teach her then, even if it was as an Historian, a role that wholly did not suit her.

“Wouldn’t you know? I thought you fought alongside the Jedi.”

Eden was calling him out now, but Atton only laughed, trying to buy himself time while he thought of another witty comeback, ultimately failing.

“Well, whatever color it was, sure would be nice to have it now. Might make those Sith think twice before coming after us.”

Eden shook her head, even if she understood where a spacer like Atton was coming from.

“A lightsaber wouldn’t make a difference, trust me,” Eden relented. “Sure it’s better than a blaster, but it would only put more of a target on our backs.”

Atton paused, really considering Eden now as he soaked in her words, perhaps surprised by her response.

“Fine, forget I said anything.” Atton turned away from her after a moment, shaking his head. “Better get comfortable, though. It’s a few days’ ride to Telos. We’re not out of this just yet.”

Eden nodded, turning the co-pilot’s seat all the way around to view the hallway behind her. Her eyes traced the piping on the walls as they led into the dark, where the passage turned slightly before opening up to the security room, wondering what Kreia was doing now in the dormitory she had claimed.

“No, we’re not,” Eden affirmed, her eyes still fixed on the shadow of the hall, but her mind far away, stuck somewhere between the past and present. She wondered what had become of her twin sabers, if either still remained. One, she’d left at Alek’s feet. The other she’d staked into the hideous statue at the center of the Coruscant Council chamber. “Not by a long shot.”

#atton x exile #kotor 2 #atton rand #the jedi exile #star wars #fan fic #my writing #as I finally approach this scene in out of the abyss I found myself just writing it before I even finished exploring peragus lmao #but peragus is a drag I think we can all agree on that