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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 16 all chapters

~AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING, TOXIC POSESSIVENESS , IF SOMEONE TREATS YOU LIKE THIS IN REAL LIFE RUN RUN RUN BC IT WILL NOT TURN OUT WELL U CANT FIX THEM~

-Aware that John Wick knows this city much better than you, you stick to the crowds. You manage to find your way to the Peggy Guggenheim collection, and you hang out there for hours, looking through the art works, but really only half seeing what is in front of you.

You are devastated.

You’ve had controlling boyfriends before, and it was not fun. They seem exciting at first, until the person you were before is eaten alive by their tantrums and their ridiculous expectations as they try to fit you into a box of their own making.

You can’t believe John turned out that way.

Or maybe you can. Maybe you have a fucking type, and you should have seen this coming.

You stay almost until closing, then grab a bite to eat before daring to wander the streets. You find a little walled in park, a courtyard filled with lush greenery and a tinkling fountain. By some miracle, there is only one other couple on a bench at the far end. You practically have the place to yourself, and you sit down on a wrought iron bench with a sigh and eat your sandwich.

You pull out your sketchbook afterwards to pass the time. Your doodling hand wanders, and perhaps its no surprise when you draw John Wick from memory, his proud lips and haunted eyes. There are tears running down your cheeks as you do so. When it gets too much, even though you’re in public, you hang your head and weep into your hands.

Darkness falls, and you know you should be getting back. The bench has long ceased to be comfortable, and yet it’s like you have grown into it, unable to move.

Even with your head down, when someone sits silently down beside you, you just know it’s John.

You do not look at him, and thankfully he does not try to touch you.

“It’s getting late, y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it is,” he insists, sounding almost tired about it. You hate it that your demeanor softens towards him, just a little.

“You broke my heart, Mr. Wick.”

“I was afraid I might.” He is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Would you let me make it up to you?”

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.”

“No?”

“No. I think you have a mean streak.”

He had tried to warn you, you realize, in his way.

God, are you really such a fool?

“Doesn't everyone?”

You make a sound between your teeth, and he nods like you have said something profound.

“I'm not a nice man, y/n. But I would be good to you.”

“Like last night? I didn't like that.”

The corner of his mouth curves in a wicked smirk, and your heart skips a beat in your chest, damn him. Was the contrition all an act?

“Yes you did.”

“Not the last part.”

“Hmm. I tried to warn you.”

In the vaguest terms possible, maybe.

“My fanny.”

He raises an eyebrow to that, and you’re not sure why that little gesture wounds you like a knife to the heart all over again. Perhaps because he is beautiful, and even though you know he’s dangerous for you, you still want him so very much.

You start to cry again, and try to get up from the bench. You need to get away from him, because you can’t think straight when he’s near.

“Y/n, wait.” He catches your wrist, and when you don’t really fight him, he pulls you down into his lap, and goddammit if this isn’t what you’d wanted all along. You feel small in his arms, cradled against his long torso and sheltered in the bend of his neck, even if in your hindbrain you know you are not actually safe at all. He strokes your hair until you quiet, and he kisses your temple like you are something precious.

How can this man be so sweet, just to turn on you?

“Why did you leave me, like that?”

You just do not understand. You could have had a lovely, fulfilling, mind-blowing if not vanilla night together. He’d laid all the groundwork like a master orchestrator, and you would have let him fuck you senseless. Fuck, you wouldn’t have even minded the tying up part, if he just hadn’t humiliated you.

“Because…” His lips ghost along the line of your jaw, and you fight not to squirm as his large hand slides up your thigh, his fingertips feather light on your skin. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says low in your ear, and you hate how it makes you ache between your legs, to hear him talk to you that way.

Outwardly, you do your best to keep your cool.

“And touching your hair made me a bad girl?”

“No.”

“Disobeying you did.”

“Yes.”

“That’s kinda fucked up.”

“Maybe.” He actually seems a little amused by you, which is not the reaction you were expecting. “I like to be in control. But you make me feel...unbalanced.”

“Me?” You sound incredulous. The thought that you could affect this powerful man in such a way seems absurd.

“Yes, you, kitten.”

The urge to demand he not call you that desiccates on your tongue.

“So...what? You feel the need to take revenge for that?”

“Maybe. I thought you knew the game we were playing, when you batted those big eyes up at me. Mr Wick, Sir, aren’t I a good girl?” His fingers dig into your thigh with the memory, and you can feel his growing erection beneath you. “But you’re just an innocent, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You’re used to boys just eating out of the palm of your hand. But I am a man, with a man’s appetites, and a man’s desires.”

He was a little more than that, you reckoned.

“You want to control me.”

“That’s part of it.”

“Why?”

He smirks. “Maybe I had a rough childhood.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“I want to take care of you.” He kisses your cheek again, and it is gentle and sweet and everything you had wanted from Mr. Wick, before this all went sideways. “I want you to be mine.”

You are not proud of the way those words unleash a fluttering swarm of butterflies in your belly, your breath quickening in your chest. You are proud when you manage to answer, “I don’t need taking care of.”

He just snorts lightly at that, as if it’s not even worth arguing over. “Come back to the hotel room with me. I promise I’ll finish what I started. With interest.” His hand slowly slides up your thigh, just beneath the skirt of your sundress, and you think you might die. You should not want this man, after what he did to you.

The ache between your legs suggests otherwise.

You give yourself some points, when you shake your head.

“No. I’m going back to my hostel.”

The shift in his demeanor gives you whiplash, a thunderhead of a frown pulling his handsome features. “Need to get back to your little friend Javi?” The jealousy in his tone hot as a brand. “Did he try to kiss you again?”

Your heart drops to your feet.

“How did you know he tried to kiss me?” you ask, your voice so small.

That was in Rome, after all.

What should have been obvious before comes crashing in, and you realize what a little fool you’ve been. That feeling that someone’s been watching you, and John’s so convenient and coincidental appearance outside the alley…

“Holy shit. You’ve been following me.”

“I’ve been protecting you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have no idea what the world is really like, sweetheart. It’s a dangerous place.”

You frown at this.

“So…you think I’m stupid?”

“No, of course not.”

“You think I can’t take care of myself then.”

“I think I found you wandering around here like a lost little lamb. There are monsters here who would have gobbled a sweet little treat like you up in one bite.”

The fact that he sees you that way is more alarming than the thought of some unnamed threat in the shadows.

For some reason it makes you think of the men in the van back home—and how that van was found empty and on fire.

“How do you know about the monsters, John?”

“I just know.”

“You said you weren’t a cop. Were you FBI?”

He glares at you, which you take as a no.

“Interpol?”

You are met with silence, and you nod, mostly to yourself.

“You know about the monsters because you are one.” You think about those fierce looking Italian men with their scars and their bespoke suits. His previous words echo in your memory. Sono retirato.

“Were you in the mob?”

“Not…specifically.”

Then you remember he’d said he was from Belarus.

“Bratva, then.”

You should be terrified as you work all this out, trapped in the circle of this man’s arms, but you feel strangely numb about it all.

“My clever girl.” He sounds almost sad about it.

“Not clever enough,” you sigh.

You are not sure who is more surprised, you or him, when you burst to your feet. You actually manage to slip out of his grasp, though you only make it three steps before he captures your wrist again with a grip like an iron manacle. He gives you a dark look, annoyed that you would even try to play this game with him.

You remember what you learned in martial arts class a lifetime ago, pointing your thumb down towards the weak point of his grip and trying to jerk free. It’s worked before, with grabby men.

Not with John Wick, though.

“Stop.” Again, there’s that steely tone. The alpha voice one uses to reprimand a naughty dog. It only makes you angrier, and you struggle.

He pulls you hard against him, and you bite his hand. He doesn’t let you go, just adjusts his grip. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he snarls low in your ear. “But you are so fucking stubborn.”

“Thank you.” You try to headbutt him behind you, but he ducks into the bend of your shoulder. You feel his chest trembling against your back, and only belatedly do you realize he is laughing at you.

“Enjoying this?”

“A little.”

“There’s no fucking way you can get me out of here without someone seeing. Let me go.”

He just sighs into your hair, like you’ve said something extremely naïve.

The arrival of newcomers into the park catches both of your attention. You lift your head, ready to ask for help, when you recognize the besuited tough guys from before.

Well, fuck.

“You've got some balls, showing your face around here, John Wick. Gianna d’Antonio’s son sends his greetings.”

“This isn’t a good time,” he snarls in return.

“Sorry, are you too busy fighting with your little girlfriend?”

He actually releases you then, pushing you to stand behind him. They are blocking the exit, so for now, you comply.

“You know how this will go,” John says, assuming a ready stance, his feet spread. He almost sounds regretful about it. “Do yourselves a favor, and leave.”

“Can’t do it, John,” says the one in the lead.

“For fuck’s sake,” curses John under his breath. The lead Italian makes a move, and John bursts into action. He is like a tornado of carnage upon them, throwing punches and breaking arms, cutting tendons and stabbing throats.

You are absolutely frozen as you watch all this unfold before you.

That is, until one of the thugs throws a knife at John, and you watch it bury in his chest. This is the thing that breaks your spell, and you run towards the fray with a scream, though who the fuck knows what you intend to do.

However, like he wasn’t just stabbed in the heart, John takes another attacker’s gun, pistol whipping him with it before shooting the knife thrower, then the last one standing. It cannot have been more than minute, before all of them are dead at his feet. He leans on his bent knees for a moment, catching his breath.

“John?” You hardly recognize your own voice as you rush to him, certain he’s taken a lethal blow and somehow fought through it with the surge of adrenaline. However, when you peel back his suit jacket you find no blood. He lets you look him over with frantic hands, maybe enjoying the fact that you don’t wish him dead, before pulling the still protruding knife from the breast of his jacket.

When he produces the little leather journal you’d gifted him from his inside pocket, now gravely marred with a puncture through the cover, you understand.

“Holy fuck.”

“You saved my life,” he says with an odd little smile down at you, as though all this is normal and what you just saw is totally ok.

Utterly horrified, you run.

“Y/n, wait!”

You throw yourself into the dark winding streets, taking any turn you can, trying to stay out of sight. Your feet fly beneath you; even in your shitty strappy sandals, it’s the fastest you’ve ever run.

It’s not fast enough.

When strong arms close around you, lifting you from the ground, you try to scream. A big hand clamps over your mouth, and you find yourself pressed hard into a stone wall. “Please, calm down,” he pants in your ear, out of breath from killing four people then running you down.

Your answer of, “Are you fucking kidding me?” is nothing but muffled syllables.

“Goddammit,” he sighs behind you, rifling in his pocket for something as he pins you with his body. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”

Your pitiful plea of “Let me go,” is cut off by an evil-smelling cloth shoved into your nose.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere john wick #john wick fic #congrats you fought john wick and lived!#i love you allllllllll!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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before-it-felt-like-a-sin · 3 months

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What I Want

summary: you were flirting with everyone at the party for fun. Definitely not because you wanted to make a certain blonde jealous.

Warnings: mentions of hookups and slight angst (nothing nsfw), smoking and drinking mentioned.

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"God, Jackie. You're so right." You brushed your fingers across your friend's arm, internally praying that Natalie was watching you.

You and Nat had been hooking up for a while. Just casually, something that stemmed out of boredom. You weren't close enough for it to be awkward, but you obviously weren't strangers. It was the perfect situation.

Until it wasn't.

In the past month, you'd found yourself actually falling for her. It's like a switch had flipped, and you saw her completely differently. Her husky voice wasn't just sexy, it was cute. You felt emotional when you kissed. And you fucking hated it.

You didn't do dating, you didn't do feelings. And you knew Natalie felt the same. That's why it worked.

"Y/n, are you even listening?" Jackie asked, snapping you out of your trance.

"What?"

"Y/n, please. If you're not going to pay attention, I'll find someone else to talk to." She made a move to get up, and you just let her. Clearly, this flirting thing wasn't gonna work.

Although, maybe you shouldn't just flirt with Jackie. Maybe you should flirt with anyone. That would have to get her attention. Right?

It was worth a shot, at least. But you were gonna need another drink before you could fathom flirting with anyone but Nat.

Shit. You had to stop thinking like that. Tonight wasn't about Nat. Tonight was about getting over her. By possibly getting under someone else.

Either way, you needed another drink.

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As you danced to some pop song in the middle of Lottie's living room with Shauna, you felt eyes on you. You looked up to see Natalie staring at you with an unreadable look on her face.

Looking away, you tried to focus on the way your hips moved to the beat.

I want the fireworks

You put your hands on Shauna's hips and pulled her closer.

I want the chemistry

With that, the two of you were so close you could feel the heat radiating off her body. You moved your hips in time to the beat, forcing Shauna to do the same.

I want that girl right over there to wanna date me

You kept trying to ignore the lyrics of the song, kept trying to force whatever was happening with Shauna.

"I'm gonna get a drink! Do you want anything?" You yelled over the speakers. Shauna just shook her head in response

That's what I want, there's nothing wrong with what I want, yeah yeah

With that, you ventured to the kitchen and poured yourself another drink. You couldn't remember if this was your fourth or fifth. Didn't matter. You'd be fine.

When you looked up, Shauna wasn't alone anymore. Now Jackie had taken your place, her arms where yours were mere minutes ago. You couldn't be upset, not really. It's not like you wanted Shauna. Or Jackie.

The Vodka didn't burn your throat anymore, in fact you could barely taste it. You took another sip, trying to look busy. You hoped that someone else would approach you, so that you could go dance with them.

"Hey, y/n." A voice came from behind you.

You turned around to see it was Van, with an exhausted looking Taissa in tow.

"Hey. What's up?" Your words slurred a little, and Van seemed to take note of that, but she didn't say anything.

"We're gonna head out. Did you still need a ride?"

"Nah, I'm sure I'll find one. Or Lottie will let me stay the night." You took another sip from your cup, trying to maintain composure as best as possible. You didn't need Tai or Van trying to convince you to leave now. You were going to have fun tonight, goddammit.

"Are you sure? I don't know if that's the best idea."

"Can a girl not have fun anymore? You're not my mom." With that, you walked away. You'd probably have to deal with a pissed off van in the morning, but that wasn't drunk you's problem.

You heard Van say something as you walked away, but you didn't quite pick up on what it was. Again, wasn't your problem.

That's when you saw her. Natalie. Leaning up against the wall, no, being held up against the wall. All while some random boy kissed her. And she was into it. Pulling him closer. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of them from across the room.

Fuck. This was supposed to be your night. And somehow, Natalie had made your plan into hers. You hadn't made her jealous. She was making you jealous. Fuck.

You pushed your way through the crowd to the sliding doors that led onto the porch. Stepping out into the cool night air, you took a deep breath. No one was outside now, seeing that it was near freezing. You were shivering in your jeans and cropped sweater.

Patting your pockets, you found what you were looking for. You pulled out a lighter and a pack of Marlboro Reds. There were only two left. You grabbed one out of the package and brought it to your lips. As soon as it was between your teeth, you flicked the lighter, attempting to get it to light.

You were so focused on the lighter that you didn't hear the back door open.

"Need help with that?" Natalie's voice startled you, and you damn near dropped your lighter.

"No," you said, your cigarette still in your mouth.

"Are you sure? Because it looks like that isn't working very well for you," she responded, nodding to the lighter.

"Fuck off. I don't need your help." You continued flicking the lighter, but it still wasn't working.

Natalie, content to watch you struggle for a bit, just stood there. Finally, she seemed to take pity on you.

"Here, seriously, let me."

"Fine." At this point, you wanted the cigarette more than you wanted to act like you didn't care.

She walked over to you and pulled out a lighter. You, expecting her to hand it to you, stuck out your hand. Instead,she cupped the cigarette with one hand, and lit it with the other. You shivered at the closeness.

When she was finished, she took a step back from you.

"Thanks," you said, exhaling smoke.

"Well, it wasn't out of the goodness of my heart. I was hoping you'd share."

"I'm not giving you my last cigarette."

"We can share this one." She looked at you expectantly.

You took another drag, hoping that if you were quiet long enough, she'd leave you alone.

"Dude, what's your problem? You're being hella weird." So much for hoping she'd leave you alone.

"I'm not being weird. I don't want to share."

"No, you are being weird. You're not inside with everyone else, you've had like five drinks when you normally stop at two. You were dancing with Shauna. You didn't leave with Van and Tai, even though you should've because you're fucking wasted. You didn't let me help you. You were going to smoke alone, which is so unlike you. Seriously, what is your problem?" She seemed so exasperated. And a little bit hurt.

"What does it matter that I was dancing with Shauna. She's my friend."

"That wasn't a very friendly dance."

"But it wasn't weird of me to dance with her. She is my friend. And I can dance with who I want. And I can drink what I want. And I can leave when I want. You're not my fucking girlfriend, Nat. We're just hooking up. You made that pretty clear by practically eating that guy's face." You took another drag of your cigarette.

"Oh, so that's what this is. You're jealous."

"Yeah, Nat. I'm fucking jealous. Because we've been hooking up for a month, yet you never even look at me unless we're alone. And I'd be fucking stupid, a fucking idiot to catch feelings, but I did. So yeah. I'm jealous. But that doesn't matter to you. Because we're just hooking up."

When Natalie didn't respond, you took that as your cue to leave. As you turned to leave, your eyes filled with tears, and you prayed they wouldn't spill over. You didn't know where you were going, you just knew you had to leave. You couldn't be at this party, couldn't be here with Nat.

It hit you that you didn't have a ride when you had made it about halfway through Lottie's giant house. Which meant you had to walk home. In the cold. Without a coat. While drunk.

At least Natalie wouldn't be there.

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It was fucking cold.

You didn't think it would be this bad when you left Lottie's. But it was cold. And you were tired. And it was dark. And your feet hurt. And you forgot your headphones.

The sound of a car engine pulled you out of your trance.

"Y/n, what the fuck?" Natalie pulled up next to you in her beat-up little car.

"I'm not talking to you."

"You don't have to. But you're not walking anywhere this late. Get in."

"No."

"Fine then. But I'm not going to leave you until you get home. And at least you'll be warm in the car."

"Leave me alone." You just kept walking. But true to her word, Natalie crept along with you.

"No."

"I don't want to talk to you. Or even look at you."

"You made that pretty clear when you just walked away earlier."

"Then why do you not seem to understand that?"

"God fucking dammit, y/n! Get in the car!" She was pissed now.

"I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity. Do you know how pissed Van would be if you got kidnapped because I didn't drive you home?"

"Oh, so you're not doing this because you want to do it."

"That's not what I said. You're twisting my words. Please, y/n, just get in the damn car. We don't have to talk. We can sit in silence. But just get in."

You were tired of fighting with her. Plus, your feet were really starting to hurt.

"Fine."

"Thank you."

She put the car in park, and you walked over to the passenger side. You opened the door and got in. Once you were buckled, she put the car in gear and started driving.

For the whole drive, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound coming from the radio. When she pulled into your driveway, she got out of the car with you.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"Well, you're drunk as hell. And neither of your parents seem to be home. So."

"You don't need to baby me."

"Maybe I just don't want to go home."

You walked to the front door, hoping that she'd just leave you alone. But she didn't. She kept walking with you, and when you walked into your house she walked in after you.

"Why are you here, Nat? Really," you asked.

"Do you want the real answer?"

"Obviously."

"I'm trying to prove to you that you're not just a hookup to me."

You scoffed. "Yeah, right. Funny, considering what you were doing earlier."

"I was jealous. Jealous of Shauna. Jealous of Jackie. I wanted you to see me. So that you wanted me."

"Don't mess with me, Nat. It's fine, okay? I shouldn't have even said anything. You don't need to be here." With that, you turned to walk up the stairs, and promptly tripped over your own feet.

At the sight of you on the ground, Natalie let out a small laugh. But when she saw the tears in your eyes, she immediately walked over to you.

"Hey, y/n, it's fine. You're okay. Let's get you to bed." She grabbed both of your hands and pulled you up.

When she wrapped her arm around your waist to keep you upright, you didn't protest. You were just so damn tired, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to make it up the stairs by yourself.

After what felt like hours, you finally made it to your bedroom. It took all your strength not to just lie down on the floor and fall asleep there. Instead, Natalie led you to your bed and sat you down. She then started undoing the laces on your boots and taking them off for you.

"Why are you doing this? I've been nothing but a bitch all night."

"Because I like you, y/n. And I like spending time with you. Even if you are a bitch." With that, she finished pulling your shoe off and sat on the bed next to you. "Do you know why I started hooking up with you in the first place?"

"I assumed because I was there, and a little bit to piss Jackie off."

Nat laughed at that. "It wasn't that. Although pissing Jackie off was a bonus. But I hooked up with you because I thought you were cool. More than that, even. I wanted to date you. But you always had the whole 'hookups only' mentality."

"Yeah, but so did you," You add, a little confused.

"Oh, I'm not judging you. It's just that it's hard to have feelings for someone who is so opposed to dating. And since I only wanted you, I mean, I decided hookups could be for me too."

"Oh fuck off. Don't lie to me."

"Is it that hard to believe that I could want you?" She looks into your eyes as she asks that, as if trying to look straight into your soul.

"No comment. I'm going to bed." You could tell Nat wanted to press you, but she didn't. Instead, she got up off your bed.

"Where are you going?" You ask.

"Home? I mean you're going to bed. Why should I stay?"

"I thought you didn't want to go home. Plus, it's not safe for you to drive this late. Just stay. You can sleep here."

"If you don't care. That's fine."

"Clearly, I don't."

With that, you finally let yourself lie down. Getting comfortable, you buried yourself under your comforter and waited for Nat to come in with you. When after a few minutes, you still hadn't felt her crawl in next to you, you sat up.

"Are you going to come here?" You looked to see her lying on the ground.

"You're asking me to share your bed?" She responded.

"It's a king. Yes. I'm asking you to share. I know how big of a bitch you can be if you haven't slept right."

"Maybe I want to sleep on the floor."

"If you want to, be my guest. But I don't get why you would." You rested your head back on your pillow, acting as if you didn't care if she slept in your bed or not.

For a couple of minutes, it seemed like she really was going to sleep on the floor. Then you felt her familiar weight on the bed next to you.

"Goodnight."

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

Three hours later, and you were still lying there, trying to fall asleep. Every move you made, you worried you'd wake Natalie up.

You look over at her, fast asleep. Her blonde hair was fanned out across the pillow, and her mouth hung open a little bit. Every so often she'd let out a soft sigh. She didn't look nearly as badass as she normally did. You'd never seen her like this before.

As slowly and gently as you could, you tried to get out of your bed. When you swung a foot over the edge, you felt her stir. You froze at the feeling, praying you hadn't woken her up.

"Y/n? What are you doing?" There went trying not to wake her.

"Nothing. I have to go to the bathroom. Go back to bed," you whisper in response.

She seems to be content with your answer and moves to go back to sleep. When she does, you get up off the bed so that you can make your way to the bathroom. You don't actually need to use it, but you didn't know what else to do.

For a few minutes, all you do is sit on the edge of the bathtub and think. Think about your night, think about Natalie. Think about how tonight, you were supposed to end up under someone else. Not next to the girl you wanted to make jealous.

But you did make her jealous. At least that's what she claimed. But you weren't sure. Natalie could literally have anyone that she wanted. Why would she choose you? The chubby lesbian who masked her feelings with an air of "I don't care".

God. This was confusing.

By now, it had been at least five minutes. Any longer and Natalie might think that something happened to you. Or that you were taking a shit. Honestly you didn't know which was worse. Either way, you moved to get up, bracing yourself on the cool ceramic of the bathtub.

When you made it back to your bedroom, Natalie seemed to have fallen back asleep. As gently as you could, you slid back into your spot on the bed. This time, though, you fell asleep almost immediately after lying down.

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You woke to sunlight streaming through your light green curtains, creating patterns on the wall and bathing the room in a pale sage light. For a moment, everything was perfect.

Until you realized that in your sleep, Natalie had rolled over so she was practically on top of you. There was no way you'd be able to get up without waking her.

"Nat... Natalie," you whispered, attempting to wake her gently. In response she did absolutely nothing.

"Natalie. Wake up." This time, you flicked her in the forehead.

She groaned and just buried her head closer into your shoulder, not seeming to realize what she was doing.

"Natalie, come on." It took her a few seconds, but this time she realized.

"Shit, y/n. Shit. Sorry." She immediately jumped away from you, and you shivered at the loss of contact. Her warmth had been nice.

"Don't worry about it. You were asleep. It's not your fault."

For a few moments, you both just remained in your bed, thinking. Neither of you spoke, until you could take it any longer.

"Did you mean what you said. Last night." You asked.

"Which thing?"

"About. I don't know. Having feelings for me?" Your voice was small, and you worried that you had imagined Natalie's words from the night before.

"What does it matter? I think you made it clear that you don't like me that way." She sounded hurt, and you hated that.

"I didn't say that. At all."

"Oh, so you're telling me that you like me, too?" Her tone was sarcastic, and you let out a breath at how mad she seemed.

"That's what I'm implying, yeah."

"What are you implying?"

"Do I really have to fucking spell it out for you?" Now it was your turn to be upset. Of course she was turning this into a game. Or course she was just making a joke of your feelings for her.

"Until you tell me what you want this to be clearly, I plan to act like I have no idea what you're talking about." She smirked at this, and it made your blood boil.

"Okay, Natalie. Fuck you. I'm done with this shit." You pushed yourself up off the bed and made your way to the door.

"Y/n, wait. I was just messing around."

"Yeah, messing around with my fucking feelings. Heaven forbid I have a crush on you. Heaven forbid you have any fucking decency. I get it. You aren't into me. That's fine. But don't make that more of a problem than it is."

This time, when you moved to open the door, you felt a hand close around your wrist. When you turned around, Natalie's face was inches from yours, your noses were almost touching.

"Nat-"

"Can I kiss you. Please."

Before you could even finish nodding, her lips were pressed against yours. Your hands moved to her waist, pulling her in closer, while hers cupped your face with a gentle touch you didn't know she possessed. She smelled like cigarettes, amber, and something you couldn't quite place. The mixture was intoxicating.

When she pulled away, a soft whine escaped your lips, and she grinned at the noise.

"Did that prove it to you, princess?"

"I don't know. We might have to try it again to really get it though my head."

She let out a small laugh at that and made a move to kiss you again, but before she could, your stomach growled.

"On second thought, maybe we should get breakfast."

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets season 1 #yellowjackets showtime #natalie scatorccio #natalie yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x curvy! reader

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whumpshaped · 6 months

Note

What if Helle found Beck after a night of drinking and didn’t know how to act when Beck is overly comfortable with seeing them? Sorry if ooc for Beck

i didnt know whether itd be ooc so i just started writing and let it take me wherever it wanted to lol i hope u enjoy!!!

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, intimate whumper, alcohol and drinking and being drunk, dubcon kissy on cheek

He deserved this. He had been living in terror for the past month, and all he wanted was a bit of fun. Spending time with his friends. Normalcy.

Beck downed his third shot way too quickly, eager to forget about the fact that he was a vampire chewtoy now, and it was likely only a matter of time before Helle decided to escalate. This could've been his last free night! So why not make it a stupidly drunk one?

"I've never seen you drink like that," Sofie said with equal parts awe and worry in her voice. "Is this still about that bite scare?"

"I just wanna have fun," he whined. "Can't I? I'm fine."

"I'd never dream of prohibiting that." She still looked nervous, making Beck groan.

"I haven't been out at night for weeks. I just wanna... relax. I just wanna feel normal for a second." He briefly thought about switching his and Noah's shot glasses while he was in the bathroom and drinking his share too, but he wasn't drunk enough yet to trade mouth germs. "Is that such a crime? I won't, like, drink myself into oblivion."

"You're right," she conceded. "I'm not your mother or anything. I'm sure you can look after yourself."

"Thank you. I'll be responsible."

He ended up being less than responsible, buying and consuming at least three more shots. There was no stopping the constant whirling and swirling of the bar anymore, and he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open — but the spinning got so much worse whenever he closed them.

He somehow managed to pay for everything before sliding off the bar stool and heading towards the exit, never considering that it was well past midnight and the crowd outside was thinning. Thoughts of vampires were drowned out by a sudden desire for some pizza, and he decided to try to get to a restaurant he'd been to exactly one time before and gotten lost on the way. He had even been sober, then.

"Oh, goddammit... It should be right here," he muttered, staring at the closed clothing store. "Would it even be open at this hour..?"

"Beck?"

The vampire's voice cut through the drunken haze like a dagger, and he spun around to face them with such momentum that he almost lost his balance entirely. "Helle!" His back hit the locked glass doors of the shop behind him, and he was grateful for the added support. "I'm– I'm looking for the pizza place. You wouldn't happen to know where that is, huh?"

Helle tilted their head at him in curiosity, and he really wished he could've waved a magic wand and sobered up instantly. They had already fed for the night. They were supposed to leave him alone for the rest of it. "Do you drink often?" they asked, completely disregarding his question.

He couldn't help it when he just... laughed. It was an involuntary reaction, a result of his anxiety and the absurdity of the situation. "I don't think that's any of your business!" He flinched back immediately after saying it, cursing himself internally. "Well, I mean, it's not like– y'know, I'm just saying..."

"It is definitely my business. Do you even know how bitter alcohol makes the blood?" They stalked closer, and Beck quickly tried to slip away and continue walking down the street.

"Nope! And you absolutely don't have to put yourself through that!" He almost cursed out loud this time when Helle caught up to him, casual as ever. "Really, I'm just gonna– you know what? I really don't want pizza anymore. I'm gonna– I'm gonna head home. It was great seeing you–"

He did a swift 180, swift enough to stumble and trip over his own feet again, for real this time. Helle was quicker, catching him by the arm before he even realised he was falling. "Humans baffle me sometimes," they murmured. "Your solution to being pursued by a dangerous predator is to make yourself even more vulnerable?"

"No, no, I drank all that alcohol so you'd hate the taste of my blood. I totally knew about the bitterness. This is like– this is advanced, I wouldn't expect you to understand." He pulled on his arm weakly, not even surprised when it did nothing to make Helle release him. "Sorry, I'm just saying anything at this point," he added with a nervous little laugh. "I always do that. I shouldn't be allowed to drink. Hey, how about– what if you let go of me, and then, then I went home, and we just forgot about this?"

"I wish I could." They pulled him even closer, their amused smile greatly undermining their semi-serious tone. "But you are just adorable when you cannot shut up. Not to mention how warm you are right now... flushed... I think you should drink more, actually."

Beck could feel his face getting even warmer at the closeness. A misguided, touch-starved part of him recognised Helle's words as almost flattery, and desperately wanted to just lean into it. The other, rational, sober part of him wanted to run — but it was difficult with his limbs not complying. "You d-don't actually think that," he stammered, still making futile attempts at pushing the vampire away. "I get so annoying."

They must've realised how much he wanted them to deny that, because their smile widened, red eyes gleaming with mischief. "I do think that," they purred. "I always think you are cutest when you tell the truth. When you let that blatant need for praise shine right through."

"I don't– I don't... huh?" He was properly flustered now, so much so that he forgot he was supposed to be struggling. "Stop mocking me," he said without any conviction, so quiet that it could've easily gotten lost in the noise of the street. He knew they heard it, though. A perk of talking to vampires.

God, what was he thinking?

"I would never dream of mocking you. Not when you look so pretty and desperate." His breath hitched when they leaned in, pulling him closer by his shirt to press a kiss to his cheek. "Unless you asked me to, of course. But I thought you were trying to get away," they whispered. "Why are you clinging now?"

Beck had no idea when his fingers had gotten tangled up in the fabric of Helle's sweater, and he pushed them away instantly, thoroughly embarrassed and confused. "I'm g-going home," he exclaimed, waiting for Helle to stop him, or say something that would've made him change his mind, or... something. But they didn't. They just stood there, smiling, letting Beck look like a complete idiot.

"Do you secretly live here?" they teased. "Or would you like to spend some more time with me?"

"Absolutely not. I'm– I'm going. Bye." He turned to leave, getting out of there as fast as he could. He rubbed his cheek absentmindedly with the sleeve of his hoodie the entire way to the bus station, trying to get rid of the feeling of soft lips against his skin.

He really, truly shouldn't have been allowed to drink.

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs

#at my beck and call #whump #whump writing #helle #beckett #vampire whumper #intimate whumper #alcohol

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cooliogirl101 · 18 days

Note

me, putting down my aizen/hisana fan: oh!

me, pulling up my gin/hisana fan: ok

Oops I didn’t realize there were people out there that shipped Aizen and Hisana 😅

Imagine tho had Christina been reincarnated into Momo instead. I imagine it going something like this:

C!Momo: okay so he’s looking for someone submissive that he can easily manipulate, someone who won’t question any of his actions right? That someone is clearly not me. He’s told me I suck at following orders. To my face. So I should be good right? No need to worry about catching his attention.

Momo, after getting promoted to 5th division lieutenant, like, barely 5 years after joining: ….

Momo: oh COME ON

(goddammit she knew she shouldn’t have applied to the 5th in the first place but she’d thought it might be a bit suspicious if she didn’t because she’d had a few encounters with Aizen in the Academy and they were, nominally, on friendly terms. Then the bastard had to go and offer her a seated officer position immediately off the bat, so it would’ve looked super suspicious if she didn’t accept. THEN he’d had to go and promote her to third seat and she’d done her level best to keep Ichimaru from traumatizing every single person under their command. And just as she FINALLY started working towards a transfer, Ichimaru fucking leaves and she’s stuck with his spot.)

“You know I find Momo-chan an absolute delight,” Gin began. Sousuke had to suppress a snort. The reverse certainly couldn’t be said. “But are ya sure it’s wise to choose her as your lieutenant? She’s hardly the ideal person to have close to our plans.”

Sousuke set down his cup of tea.

“Are you saying I can’t handle her, Gin?” He asked with a smile.

“I’m sayin’ you’re having a bit too much fun handlin’ her,” Gin shot back. This was why he enjoyed having him around. It was…refreshing having that kind of honesty around. For a given definition of the word, anyway.

“I find her amusing,” Sousuke conceded. “I can’t quite figure her out.”

Gin shot him a disbelieving look.

“Momo-chan? She’s not exactly the type ta hide who she is.”

“And yet,” Sousuke murmured. Curious, how a girl who seemed to be the definition of an open book, was so adept at picking up on his deceptions. And so good at getting away with her own.

#wtl!au #no one in the history of the Seireitei has ever been so angry about the prospect of being promoted as Momo here #exes au

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thewillofdeez · 11 months

Text

Twenty Questions - A Goth Fam One-shot with just a smidge of OC romance

Summary: A few weeks after arriving on Kuraigana, Perona is desperate to get to know her mysterious host. After much pestering, she gets him to agree to twenty questions.

Lightweight one-shot goth fam fun. Notes can be found on my AO3 account under the same username.

Word count: 7k

The woman was like a fly. Or a mosquito. Something that was annoyingly persistent and had absolutely no survival sense to back off lest it be squashed. Her ability to fly only served to further the analogy. Mihawk had certainly considered squashing her before. He wondered if there was a place where he could buy a giant fly swatter, if for no other reason than to send a message.

It wouldn’t be so bad if her focus wasn’t on him all the damn time. Perona barraged him with questions about himself, his life, his past, constantly every damn day. But Mihawk liked to keep things close to his chest. He didn’t like giving out information about himself unless it was necessary, both for his own safety and because, frankly, it was no one else’s business. He would give opinions, insights, sure, but anything that was about him specifically, about his past, about what made him tick…that was for him and a very few, select set of people. Perona was not one of them. Neither was Zoro.

In the few weeks since Mihawk had returned from Marineford, Perona’s prying into his personal life had ramped up from the occasional probe to see how he’d respond, to becoming more and more insistent. He was beginning to regret letting her stay, but he also didn’t feel he could kick her out either. The man wasn’t a total monster - she and Zoro had filled him in on what happened at Thriller Bark. He knew she had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. That damned compassion that he tried constantly to suppress, he supposed, got the better of him. But she sure was pushing her luck.

Perona, for her part, didn’t get why Mihawk was so reluctant to talk about himself. She knew he wasn’t thrilled about his new houseguests, and he made that clear pretty much every day. But she felt like he was making it harder on himself by making no effort to get to know her and Zoro. She’d tried to tell him about herself, hoping that might get him to open up, but he’d frequently silence her with a raised hand and a firm “I don’t care.” She wanted to believe that he was just afraid of getting attached to them. Yeah, that was it. Totally.

And yet she also couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt. Why didn’t he like her? She was very likable! She was cute and funny and charming, goddammit! The cold shoulder was decidedly un-cute, and she was determined to put an end to it.

On a rainy evening at Kuraigana, Mihawk sat in his chair before the roaring fireplace, a book in his lap and the castle quiet except for the patter of rain against glass. It was too quiet, perhaps. Mihawk looked around the room. Zoro was on the couch flipping through a book of his own and munching on a rice ball. He didn’t seem to be reading it, just perusing. Typical, Mihawk thought.

Perona was nowhere to be found, and that meant trouble. He briefly wondered if he should go looking for her to make sure she wasn’t getting into anything she wasn’t supposed to, or if he should just enjoy the peace while it lasted. He chose the latter, positive it would end sooner or later.

“Mihawk,” Perona said, her face suddenly dangling upside down in front of him in a wave of pink hair. And there it is, he thought, huffing out a sigh.

“Mihawk, I have a proposition for you.” Perona flipped right side up and crossed her legs as though she was sitting on the floor, while floating in front of him at eye level.

“Hmmpf. Not interested,” Mihawk replied, lazily turning the page of his book and ignoring her.

Perona ignored him. “Twenty questions.” Mihawk looked up from his book with a raised eyebrow. “Twenty questions?”

Perona nodded. “I get to ask you twenty questions of my choice, and you answer them. If you can do that - just give me twenty - I’ll never bother you for more information about yourself ever again. Promise. Pirate’s honor.”

Mihawk scoffed. “First of all, the promise of ‘pirate’s honor’ is shaky, at best, as many pirates have no sense of honor, or at least a questionable one, and I don’t know if you’re one of them.”

Perona puffed her cheeks in anger. “Well you might know if you took the time to get to know me and–”

“And second of all,” Mihawk said, cutting her off, “I don’t believe you anyway. I don’t believe for a second that, if I did answer your twenty questions, you’d be satisfied. You’d keep nagging me for more information. I won’t give you an inch so you can take a mile.”

“Actually, I think you should do it,” Zoro cut in, his voice slightly muffled as he chewed on the rice ball. “She did the same thing to me when we got here. I gave her some answers and she backed off. And the things I didn’t want to answer she didn’t push me on. Throw her a bone and she’ll be satisfied.” Zoro didn’t mention that he also, somewhat selfishly, wanted to know more about their mysterious host, and fully supported the pink-haired pirate’s quest for information, even if he wasn’t interested in being involved in it himself.

“Thank you, Zoro,” she said. “See? I have self-control. I just also would like to know more about the person I’m spending an indefinite amount of time with. Come on, Mihawk…please?”

Mihawk looked at Perona, her eyes wide and lips in a pout in what he imagined was supposed to be a sad puppy dog face. He glanced at Zoro, who only shrugged. Mihawk sighed. “Fine. But here are my terms. Yes or no questions only. How much or how little I elaborate is up to me.”

“Fine,” Perona replied, thrilled at her own progress. “But then I get to ask follow up questions about ten of them that don’t count towards the twenty.”

“Absolutely not,” Mihawk replied. “I’ll allow you to ask for more information on three questions only.”

“Eight,” Perona replied.

“Two”.

“Six.”

“One.”

Perona narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t how negotiating works, ya know! You’re supposed to be trying to meet me in the middle!”

“Take it or leave it,” Mihawk said, not backing down.

“Fine!” Perona said, frustrated. “I’ll take the three, geeze.” Perona floated away for a moment and came back with a small notebook in hand, settling down on the couch next to Zoro. “Ready?” she asked.

“I suppose,” Mihawk replied. “But one more thing. Everything I tell you about myself, no matter how insignificant a detail is, does not leave this castle. Ever. I keep things to myself for a reason, and I’m only giving you what you want so I can live in my own house in peace. That goes for you too, Roronoa. None of this makes its way to your crewmates or anyone else. Are we clear?”

Perona nodded enthusiastically. “You got it! Promise!”

Zoro nodded as well. “Whatever secrets you have are safe with me.”

It seems Perona’s frustration had dissipated and now she was just happy to get what she wanted. Perona opened the notebook. “I wasn’t expecting the yes or no stipulation, so I’ll have to re-word some of these. Let’s get started!”

Mihawk sighed and sipped his wine. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

“Question #1,” she began, “Did you become the World’s Greatest Swordsman when you were…” she thought for a minute, rewording the question in her head, “Let’s say younger than Zoro?”

Mihawk turned to Zoro. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” he said, “Almost twenty.”

“Then yes,” Mihawk responded, “I was younger than Zoro is now.”

Perona jotted something down in her notebook. “Great. Question #2. Do you have a best friend?”

“Yes. Two, actually.” Perona and Zoro both raised their eyebrows in what Mihawk thought might have been surprise at the fact that two people liked him enough to be his best friend.

“Question #3” she continued, “Do you have any talents or hobbies, aside from what we know about?”

Mihawk thought for a moment. “I do, yes.”

Silence overtook the three. They stared at each other.

“If you want more information, you’ll have to ask for it. I’m not going to just give it to you.”

Perona sighed dramatically. “Fine! Request for more information.”

Mihawk smirked. “One down, two left. Well, you know I enjoy farming and cooking. I can play a few different instruments, some quite well and others not so much. I enjoy learning other languages and am fluent in several.”

“What instruments do you play best?” Zoro asked.

“Guitar and violin, probably,” he responded. “I’m fond of strings.”

“Do you collect anything?” Perona asked.

“Hmmm. Nothing I would formally consider a collection, no, at least not in the sense of collecting coins or old magazines or anything like that. But I do have quite a lot of knives of different styles and makes from all over the world. I enjoy buying and trading art. And I enjoy filling out the wine cellar, though I can’t really claim that collection as ‘mine’ since so much of it was here when I moved in.”

“Is there anything you’re really bad at,” asked Zoro, “Or that you really don’t like to do?”

“I’ve never been great at the visual arts,” Mihawk admitted, “Though not for lack of trying. I don’t particularly care for organized athletics, though I do admire the people who play them. And I hate golf. More than most things, I hate golf.”

“Have you ever played mini golf, though?” Zoro asked excitedly. “I agree about regular golf, but mini golf is fun.”

“Do I look like I’m twelve to you? No, I’ve never played mini golf, and have no intention to.”

Zoro shrugged. “Your loss.”

Perona giggled. “The image of you trying to putt a ball through a windmill is kind of hilarious.”

“I’m glad you find it amusing,” Mihawk deadpanned, cringing internally at how much he had just given away, even if the information was harmless. “Is that all?”

Zoro and Perona nodded at each other, then Perona spoke. “Yup. We can continue. Question #4. That cross you wear around your neck…”

“The stabby cross,” Zoro cut in, remembering the time he felt its point in his flesh.

“Yeah, the stabby cross. Do you wear it because you're religious?”

“Ha!” Mihawk laughed. “No, not at all. I’m not arrogant enough to say there is definitively no higher power that exists, but I do lean that way. Agnostic, perhaps, might be the right word. It doesn’t matter to me one way or another if there is a God.”

“Then why do you wear it?” Zoro cut in.

“Zoro! You used up one of my questions!” Perona huffed, fists on her hips. She then flipped through her notebook and made a number of angry scribbles.

“Sorry! I’m just curious.”

Mihawk lifted the cross that hung on his chest, turning it in his hands and examining it. “It was a gift, a long time ago. It also suits my personal style. And I do quite enjoy the look on peoples’ faces when they realize it’s actually a knife. That never gets old.” He looked pointedly at Zoro, smiling slyly. Zoro frowned angrily.

“Question number….six, I guess, thanks, Zoro” began Perona, ignoring the exchanged looks. “Is there anything you’re afraid of, like a phobia or something?”

“Hmmm,” Mihawk pondered, mulling over how to answer that one. “I’d say no, not in the sense that I believe you’re asking anyway. But there are certainly things that make me uncomfortable.”

“Are you gonna tell us what?” she pressed.

“Is that a request for more information?” Mihawk responded, eyebrow raised.

“Hmmph. No, I guess it’s not worth using another request for info this early in the game unless it’s really good. Anyway. Question #7. Have you ever been dangerously close to death? Like, actively dying close?”

“Yes, actually,” he said. “I was a rather frail child, and got sick quite frequently up until I was around 9 or 10 years old. I’ve been on the verge of death from things as boring as pneumonia several times. Since then, however, no, I haven’t knocked on death’s door to quite the same extent.”

More scribbles. Mihawk was desperately starting to wonder why she felt the need to take notes. He’d have to burn that notebook when he got the chance.

“Question #8,” Perona started, looking back up at him. “You don’t have a crew of your own right now, but have you ever worked on another pirate’s crew?”

Mihawk looked up in thought. “That’s a bit complicated. When I was much younger I did sail on someone else’s crew, yes. But I’ve purposely never aligned myself with anyone else from the moment where I had a choice. Does that make sense?”

Zoro nodded. “I get it. It was a situation you were in, not necessarily something done out of loyalty to a particular captain. Right?”

Mihawk nodded. “That’s a good way to put it, yes.”

“Question #9, then," Perona continued. "Related. Have you ever had your own crew, or do you want to?”

“Hmm,” Mihawk replied, “That sounds like questions nine and ten to me.”

“What?!” she huffed. “No, there’s two clauses, separated by a comma and followed by a single question mark. It’s one question with two parts. So nyeh.” Perona crossed her arms over her chest, proud of her retort.

Mihawk chuckled. “Fair point, I suppose I can’t argue with your grammar. No and no. I could very easily amass a crew of my own if I wanted, but I don’t care for the responsibility of being a captain, and have nothing to gain from doing so.”

Onto Question #10 then,” said Perona. “Do you have any living relatives?”

“I do, yes,” Mihawk replied.

Zoro and Perona looked at each other. “Think we should use another request for more information?” Zoro asked.

Perona thought for a second. “I think so. Okay, tell us about your family.”

Mihawk sipped his wine. “The only living family I have are my parents. You’ve met them, Zoro. In Sabaody.”

Zoro’s brow furrowed in thought for just a second, before the realization dawned on him. “You don’t mean…”

Mihawk only nodded. Zoro laughed. “No way!”

“What?” Perona inquired, looking between the two men. “What’s so funny? Tell me, come on!”

Still chuckling, Zoro answered. “Mihawk’s dad is Silvers Rayleigh.”

Perona’s jaw dropped. “THE Silvers Rayleigh? Dark King Rayleigh? Is your dad??”

Mihawk nodded. “Indeed.” He decided he didn’t need to provide any information about his mother’s past unless asked.

Perona was shocked. This was more dirt than she could have ever dreamed of.

“So that must mean you grew up on Gold Roger’s ship?” Zoro asked, doing the math in his head.

“I did,” Mihawk responded. “From the time I was born until I was thirteen and went off on my own, much to the distress of my mother.”

“Do you see them often?” Perona asked.

“Maybe once a year or so. My mother and I will call each other occasionally, but they have their own lives and I have mine. I don’t always get along very well with my father, so when I visit it’s generally for my mother’s sake. But we’re usually cordial to one another regardless.”

Perona decided not to push the topic, figuring that Mihawk had given her more than enough and probably wouldn’t appreciate her digging into his daddy issues. “Okay then! And we’re halfway done. Question #11. Do you like being a Warlord?”

Mihawk huffed. “‘Like’ is certainly not the word I would use, no. I appreciate the freedom the position grants me, but I also have no love or loyalty for the World Government. The other Warlords feel much the same way, it’s about the only thing we can all agree on. It’s a trade-off.”

“Question #12. Do you support the Revolutionary Army?”

“Hmmm, an interesting question,” Mihawk said. “In theory, in belief, yes, I do believe in what they’re doing. But…if you’re asking me whether or not I’m personally a member of the Revolutionary Army….do you really think I would tell you if I was?”

“So much for your theory, Zoro,” Perona grumbled, making notes. Yes, that notebook would definitely have to burn.

Zoro only shrugged. “It woulda made sense.” Mihawk hid his grin in his wine glass.

“Question #13. When Zoro is eventually ready to challenge you for your title, will you actually kill him?”

“I feel like I should be insulted,” Zoro said before Mihawk could speak. “Why are you assuming that I’m the one who’ll be dying?”

“No offense, Zoro,” Perona said, “But I mean…come on. Look at the guy. I’ve seen you out there training….you’re great, but you’re not him. Not yet, anyway.” Zoro huffed and crossed his arms in response.

Mihawk didn’t even try to hide his amused smirk. “Yes, I will kill Zoro eventually. Or perhaps he’ll kill me, but I doubt it. We’ll see how he’s doing when the time comes. But whether it’s two years from now or twenty, one of us will die, there’s no doubt about that.”

“And you’re both just…okay with that?” Perona replied.

Mihawk and Zoro nodded, at each other then her. “Of course,” Mihawk said, “It’s the nature of passing on the title of World’s Greatest Swordsman. I killed the man who held the title before me, and he did the same before him, going back hundreds of years. One day someone will do the same to me and claim the title. Whether it’s Zoro or someone else, I do not know. But it will, in all likelihood, happen one day.”

Perona looked back and forth between the two men. “How…how can you just sit here, together, knowing one of you will kill the other like it’s nothing? How are you both so….okay with this?!”

“It’s part of being a swordsman, Perona,” Zoro said. “Not all swordsmen want Mihawk’s title, but for those of us who do, we know how it goes. We know that it’s kill or be killed, and to fall to the World’s Greatest Swordsman…I mean it sucks, yeah, I never want to lose….but it’s a risk I have to take, and there are worse ways to go. I’d much rather die in an honorable battle by Mihawk’s sword than by anyone else’s.”

Perona turned to Mihawk. “And you’re just…fine with this too? You agreed to train Zoro, knowing what he wants to do? Like it’s no big deal?”

Mihawk nodded. “I did. And it is a big deal, to be sure. I would not have agreed to train him if I didn’t believe he had potential to be the next in line. I won’t deny this…arrangement is certainly unorthodox. But I also believe there’s a reason he’s here. And, I suppose, you as well.”

“Hmmm…okay, but what about this: Hypothetically, what if you and Zoro fight, and he just….defeats you without killing you? If you know you’re beaten, why not just surrender and save your own life?”

“An admirable desire,” Mihawk said gently, “But that just isn’t the way it works.”

But it could be, right?” she pressed. “I mean, there’s no rule saying it can’t. It’s only a bunch of dead guys telling you otherwise.”

“Perona,” added Zoro, trying to explain. “For people like me and Mihawk, defeat is a fate worse than death. It’s better to go out knowing you fought honorably than to live knowing you were defeated. Mihawk’s already beaten me once. I took him on before I was ready and I made a vow that day that no one, either him or anyone else, would ever defeat me again. I’d rather die than live with breaking that vow. He feels the same.”

Mihawk nodded in agreement. “It’s about honor, Perona. Honor and pride. These concepts are inextricably linked with swordsmanship, they’re things we value above all else. Do you understand now why, when the time comes, there can be no peaceful resolution?”

Perona huffed out a sigh and sunk into the sofa, her arms crossed. “Yeah…I get it. I still want to tell you that it’s stupid, and that your lives are more important than your pride, but…I get it. And I respect it, I guess. Whatever.” Mihawk and Zoro both chuckled. “I just hate knowing that I’m gonna end up going to one of your funerals one day and it’ll be the other person’s fault. And I love funerals! But I like you both, and this one is gonna suck.”

“Don’t dwell on it for now, ghost girl,” Mihawk said with an unusually soft smile. “It will be a very, very, very long time before Zoro is truly ready to face me in battle.”

“Ya got enough ‘verys’ in there, Mihawk?” Zoro said with a sour look. Mihawk only grinned smugly.

“Ugh dammit,” Perona whined, slapping her fists on the sofa. “And I guess I just used up a request for more information too.”

“No,” Mihawk said, “I think that was an important discussion to have. You still have one left. Now, onto the next question.”

“Perona, can I ask one?” Zoro said.

Perona checked her notebook. “Hmmm, yeah I think I can spare a question, but it better be good. What is it?” Zoro leaned over and whispered in her ear. Mihawk looked on curiously. “Ohhhhh! Yes, go ahead.”

Zoro grinned. “Great! Question #14. You told me once that you and Shanks used to be rivals. Even with one arm, knowing how strong of a pirate he is, do you think you could beat him in a fight today?”

Mihawk chuckled. “That is a good question, Zoro. But it’s the wrong question.”

Zoro’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the question isn’t could I defeat him or could he defeat me, it’s why would I bother fighting him in the first place?”

“I don’t understand,” said Perona.

“Well, look at it from my perspective,” Mihawk said. “Say Shanks and I do fight, which we wouldn’t because I don’t fight opponents who aren’t at their full strength. But…hypothetically. It’s a losing situation for me either way. If I win, well, I defeated a swordsman with one arm, big deal. But if I lose…if I lost to a one-armed swordsman…that would be devastating. Sure, I would go out honorably, knowing I lost to a superior opponent, but personally, given my history with the man….” Mihawk shuddered at the thought. “It’s simply not worth the risk.”

“Okay, I get that,” Zoro said. “But all that aside. Do you think you could defeat him, yes or no?”

Mihawk pondered this. “I genuinely don’t know, as much as I hate to admit it. I don’t fear Shanks, he’s one of my closest friends, but if it came down to it, he’s also the most powerful Haki user in the world. I see no shame in admitting that as strong as mine is, his is miles stronger, even if I am the better swordsman. We’ve always been so evenly matched, and that’s part of what I enjoyed about battling him. When we were younger, our fights would rage on for days until we had no choice but to call a draw. Dozens of times we’ve fought with no victor. If he wanted my title, it's certainly possible that he could take it from me, or at least put up a good fight in the process.” Mihawk shrugged. “But I also know he’d never do that, so I don’t really think about it.”

“Question #15, then!” Perona said. “Have you ever considered eating a Devil Fruit?”

“Absolutely not,” Mihawk scoffed. “I don’t need some kind of magical power to become stronger or achieve my goals. My strength as a swordsman speaks for itself. I also have very little respect for Devil Fruit users as a whole. It feels like cheating in a way, like having power you haven’t done anything to earn.”

“What? Hey!” Perona cried. “That’s not fair! I could be strong even without my Devil Fruit power!” In her anger, Perona sent a flurry of hollows through Mihawk’s chest. Over the past few weeks, Mihawk had been building up an immunity to her ghosts. It still wasn’t pleasant, but he could handle them without letting her know he was affected. As the ghosts passed through him, his expression remained stoic, but inside he was dying a little. Mihawk shook it off as quickly as he could, and a thought occurred to him.

“How old were you when you ate the Hollow-Hollow Fruit, Perona?” he asked.

Perona’s jaw dropped a little. Did he…just ask her a question? About herself? Perona resisted the urge to get all starry eyed over her progress. “I was about nine,” she replied, as calmly as she could.

“Hmmf,” Mihawk replied. “I meant no offense, Perona. I do have more sympathy for people in your situation, and I don’t carry the same lack of respect. It’s surprisingly common for children to eat Devil Fruits without knowing what they are or at least fully grasping the consequences. I know Luffy is one of them,” Mihawk nodded to Zoro. “Buggy was too. But many more people make the active choice to curse themselves in the pursuit of power or wealth or whatever else. Those are the people I tend to look down upon. Though, I will admit, there are a few exceptions for whom I carry quite a lot of respect.”

Perona looked down, hiding her smile. She felt like she had finally cracked his tough exterior, just the tiniest bit, and she felt proud. “I can understand that. Let’s move on. Question #16. Do you have a girlfriend?” Mihawk was about to answer when Perona cut him off “OR…a boyfriend?” With so few questions remaining, she had to fit in as much as she could.

Mihawk narrowed his golden eyes. “No.”

“Hmmmm,” Perona pondered, looking at her notebook. He saw her scribble a few things, but he couldn’t tell what. Zoro looked over her shoulder with interest. “Question #17. Do you have anyone you’re romantically interested in, maybe someone you’d like to have as your girlfriend-slash-boyfriend?”

Mihawk huffed and looked towards the fire. “...Yes. There is someone.”

“Request for more info!!!” Perona cried excitedly. “Tell us more!”

“What would you like to know?” Mihawk asked begrudgingly, regretting giving her that freebie earlier.

Well, how did you meet? How long have you known each other?”

“We met about twelve years ago or so,” Mihawk began. “I had been caught by Marines. An Admiral. This was before I was a Warlord, so I was still considered fair game at the time. He was a powerful opponent, but given our earlier discussion on pride and defeat, I’m sure you can imagine how…humiliated I felt. I was in a cell in shackles waiting to be transported to Enies Lobby. And she was the other person in my cell. We knew we’d be on a ship to be judged for our crimes in the morning, and so the whole night we just…talked. About everything and nothing. She was clever and wise, and made me think of things I’d never once considered. And she was so easy to talk to….”

Mihawk looked down at the glass of wine in his hand. “Anyway, morning came, and I made some joke about how it had been fun, and maybe I’d see her in prison. And she looked straight at me and said ‘No, you won’t. We’re getting out of here.’ Turns out she had a Devil Fruit power, one the Marines didn’t know about at the time so they didn’t put her in sea prism stone cuffs. She slipped out of the cuffs, out of the cell, and set me free. I was….flabbergasted. Then I was angry. I asked her why the hell she had let me sit there for hours thinking we were caught when she could have always gotten us out and she said, ‘I’m sorry, I was just really enjoying talking to you.’ And…no one had ever said that to me before. So we escaped, and have been friends ever since. I consider her among my best friends, actually, and she considers me hers.”

“Ahhh, so she’s one of those exceptions to the no-respect-for-Devil Fruit-users rule you mentioned before?” Zoro asked.

Mihawk nodded. “She is.”

“And you want to be more than friends with her?” Perona pressed.

“Ideally, yes,” he replied.

“Does she feel the same?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you planning on telling her?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But why???” Perona whined. “If you have feelings for her, you should let her know!”

Mihawk sighed. “It’s not that simple. I’m…not good with people, if you haven’t been able to tell. Never have been. But she and I, we clicked. I value our friendship for what it is, not what it could be. If it ever didn’t work out between us, or if I told her how I felt and she didn’t feel the same….I won’t gamble what we do have in hopes of having something else. It’s not worth the risk to me. I have her in my life, maybe not in the capacity that I want, but I do have her. And that has to be enough for me.”

Perona was stunned. “Wow. Okay, but what if she told you she felt the same? Would that be different?”

Mihawk shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t say I wouldn’t be happy, but the fear of messing it up would always be there. I have a good thing…I don’t want to ruin it.”

“You don’t think you’re capable of being a good partner,” Zoro said. It wasn’t a question.

“No,” Mihawk replied, slightly taken aback by the younger swordsman’s rather perceptive statement. “I don’t. I’m far too selfish for that. She deserves a much better man than I.”

“What if she fell in love with someone else?" Perona asked. "Would you be more inclined to tell her then?”

“Perona,” Mihawk said, exasperated, “This isn’t a romance novel, it’s real life. I’m not going to…to break into her wedding and confess my love to her and beg her to choose me. She’s had a number of relationships over the years, as have I. Some more casual than others…or entirely casual for me, I suppose. I’m no stranger to seeing her have affections for someone else. And yes, it hurts…like hell sometimes, honestly. Sometimes…I wish she would notice the way I look at her. I wish she’d realize how much faster my heart beats when she’s around. I wish she’d realize how perfect we’d be together...” Mihawk trailed off, before snapping himself out of his thoughts. He’d said far, far too much, but he didn’t often get the opportunity to talk about this and it was all just coming out. Only Shanks knew the true extent of his feelings….and Zoro and Perona did now too, he supposed. “But I have no claim over her. I never will.”

“What do you like about her?” Zoro asked, trying to bring the topic back from the brink. “Like, what is it about her that draws you to her, over anyone else?”

Mihawk smiled. “Well, she’s certainly beautiful. But I’ve met a lot of beautiful women, that’s nothing. She’s smart, wickedly so. She loves philosophy, and can talk about it for hours. She and I have talked about the most minute details of what it means to be human, what it means to exist in this world…I can talk to her for hours on end. And she’s kind, that’s another thing I love about her. She’s so talented in so many different things, and she encourages me to try things I never would have done before. She….I feel like she brings out the best in me.”

“Do you get to see her often?” Perona asked, smiling softly, so happy to have brought this out of her host.

“It depends,” he replied. “We try to make time to see each other, but she’s a pirate as well. She has her own crew, her own obligations and goals. We do call each other somewhat regularly though.”

“Hmmm. You should call her. Invite her to come visit.”

“Ha!” Mihawk laughed. “What, so you can play matchmaker? Please. How stupid do you think I am?”

Perona huffed. “Well fine then! It was just an idea! But….I still think you should tell her.”

Mihawk remained silent for a few moments. “Perhaps one day. Perhaps you’re right. I suppose I’m not doing myself any favors…” Mihawk shook his head, removing the idea from his mind. “Now, have you done enough digging into my love life? Can we move on?”

“I guess,” Perona said. “Let’s move on. Question #18. Do you believe in fate? Or destiny, or anything like that?”

“I do, to an extent,” he replied thoughtfully. “I believe that there are certain key points in the world that are destined to happen, but how exactly we go about getting to them is not written in stone. Luffy, for example, may very well be destined to become King of the Pirates. I’m not ready to put all my money on him just yet, but I do believe it’s possible if not likely - as annoying as I, personally, find that to be. But on his way there, he’s going to break every rule and subvert every expectation along the way.” Zoro smiled, proud that his mentor saw such promise in his captain and his crew.

“Question #19,” Perona continued. “Have you ever done anything really, really stupid while drunk?”

Mihawk laughed. “Oh, yes, especially when I was younger and spent a lot of time with Shanks. I have so many stories I could tell you.”

“Request for more information!!” Perona cried.

“Nope,” said Mihawk with a grin.

“No?”

“You’ve used up your three,” he said, smirking. “That’s all you get for this question.”

Perona’s face turned red. Zoro held back a laugh. “But…I…. UGH!!! FINE! Last one then, I guess. Question #20. Do you….I mean, are you…UGH! Sorry, I’m having trouble figuring out how to word this as a yes or no.”

“Eh,” Mihawk said. “We’re almost done, and you’ve already taken a pickaxe to some of the most closely guarded details of my life. I’ll give you this last one, no yes or no required.” He didn’t say that he had actually been quite enjoying himself.

“Really? Thanks, Mihawk! Okay, what would you say is your biggest motivator in being a pirate?”

“Freedom,” he answered. “I don’t much care for money or power except as far as it serves my ability to live freely. Everything I do is more or less towards that purpose. Frankly, I don’t trust any pirate who believes otherwise.”

Mihawk watched as Perona scribbled something. “Okay then,” she said with a smile. “We’re done. See that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“Hmph,” Mihawk replied. “I suppose not. What have you been writing in there, by the way? Remember, everything I’ve told you is confidential. That cannot fall into the wrong hands.”

“Don’t worry, Mihawk. I didn’t write down anything sensitive. I just like knowing about people, and writing it down helps me figure them out.”

“You promised that twenty questions was all you’d get and you wouldn’t ask me anything else about myself for as long as you’re here,” he responded. “Do you feel like you’ve gotten enough information to figure me out, then?”

Perona thought for a moment. “I think I’m on my way. But I intend to keep my promise. Any other pieces of the Mihawk puzzle I get will either be picked up through observation or openly volunteered by you. Promise.”

That was satisfactory enough of a response, Mihawk supposed, especially for as late as the evening had gotten. “Good enough. Goodnight then, Perona. Zoro. See you in the morning.”

“Night, Mihawk,” they responded.

“And Mihawk?” Perona called after him. Mihawk turned wordlessly. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.” He then nodded and exited the living room.

Mihawk opened the massive door to his bedroom and made his way towards the sitting area where a number of transponder snails sat sleepily on a table. He kicked off his boots and picked up a particular snail. Then, settling down in a comfortable armchair, he lifted up the receiver. The familiar badabadabada repeated several times, then cuh-lick.

“Well hello there, Mihawk” a feminine voice said, her sly smile apparent on the snail.

“Hello there,” he said, unable to suppress his own grin at hearing her voice. “How are you?”

“Oh you know, same old same old," she replied. "The crew and I just left Alabasta, we’ve been there for a few weeks aiding the rebuilding efforts.”

“You know, most pirates aren’t so overt with their good deeds. No wonder the World Government doesn’t know what the hell to do with you.”

She giggled. “I am nothing if not an enigma. So how’re things with the kids?”

Mihawk rolled his eyes. “Ugh, please don’t call them that.” The woman laughed even harder. “It’s fine, but it’s frustrating. They’re the most obnoxious people I’ve ever met, especially that ghost girl. She’s been trying to get me to tell her about myself ever since she got here, and she finally needled me enough that I gave in.”

“You know,” she said, “I seem to recall a time when I was the most obnoxious person you’d ever met, also for being particularly insistent about asking you questions about yourself.”

“That’s different,” Mihawk replied.

“How?”

“Well, because I like you.”

“You didn’t when we first met. But nothing like a few hours in a jail cell together to endear two people to each other, right?” she said with a grin.

Mihawk huffed out a laugh. “That’s certainly true. I suppose I am a few weeks into a two year sentence for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“Give it time, Mihawk,” she said gently. “I admire you for doing as much as you are given how bizarre the situation is. It’ll get easier, just…show them the side of you that you show me.”

Mihawk blushed a little. He hoped the transponder snail didn’t pick it up. “Thank you. I’ll…try.” Mihawk stopped and took a deep breath. “Listen…since you’re in Paradise, I was wondering if you’d perhaps…like to meet up sometime soon? If you don’t have anywhere in particular to be, I mean.”

The snail smiled. “I’d love that. It’s certainly been too long, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” he agreed. “And…if you’re willing – and if you’re not, that’s totally expected and I won’t take any offense, I just, I really enjoy the time we get together and I–”

“Mihawk!” she cut him off. She’d known him for long enough to know that when the otherwise unflappable Dracule Mihawk started rambling, he had something on his mind.

Mihawk sighed. “Would you like to go out with me?” he said. “On a date?” He held his breath.

The snail beamed. “I’d love to. Took you long enough to ask.”

Mihawk smiled widely. Only she could bring that out of him. “I’ll set out tomorrow. Perhaps we could meet somewhere in between where we both are now? Water 7, maybe?”

“We do always have fun in Water 7,” she said, smiling fondly at the memories. “That would be perfect. I…I’m really, really looking forward to seeing you, Mihawk.”

Still smiling, Mihawk replied. “I’m looking forward to seeing you as well. Goodnight. I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodnight, Mihawk. Sleep well.” That night, he absolutely did.

The next morning, Zoro and Perona were surprised when Mihawk marched into the kitchen proudly, wearing the open black coat and red shirt he usually wore at sea, his feathered hat already on his head and a travel bag over his shoulder, which he dropped as he approached the two younger residents.

“Heading out?” Zoro asked, handing the older swordsman a full mug of coffee.

“Warlord meeting?” added Perona.

“No,” replied Mihawk, “No Warlord meeting. I called her last night. I asked her out.” Mihawk took a sip of his coffee to hide his grin, and for dramatic effect. “She said yes.”

Perona squealed and did loops in the air before embracing Mihawk in a bone-crushing hug, pinning his arms to his sides and knocking the wind out of him. For a ghost, she was surprisingly strong. “I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!”

“Ghost girl,” he said lowly. “Off.”

Perona backed away, hands in the air. “Sorry!”

Zoro chuckled, his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m happy for you, Mihawk. I hope it works out. How long will you be gone?”

Mihawk downed the last of his coffee and placed the mug in the sink.

“I suppose that depends on how it goes. Probably around two weeks with travel time. Zoro, I’m sorry to put our training on hold, but –”

Zoro laughed and patted the older man affectionately on the back, much to Mihawk’s surprise. “No need to apologize! The Humandrills should be all healed up, I’ll fight them while you're gone to keep my skills sharp.”

Mihawk nodded in approval. “Both of you, behave while I’m gone. Try not to burn the place down, will you?” With that, he grabbed his travel bag and began walking out of the room. Then, he stopped, turning only partly to face the two younger residents of the castle. “And by the way….thank you. Both of you. For encouraging me to talk to her.” Without waiting for a response, he exited the kitchen, then the castle, leaving Zoro and Perona with broad smiles behind him.

#dracule mihawk #perona #roronoa zoro #goth family #one piece goth fam #one piece fanfiction #dracule mihawk x oc #dracule mihawk x reader #very slight romance #mostly getting to know you headcanons

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justwearthegoddamncardigan · 25 days

Note

Hello :) can you do a request with modern Thomas again. They play just dance but since she was dumb at dancing in rythm she sing the lyric and Thomas is like « whoa that’s my girl » because he never hear her singing like that before. The music could be one republic. Please. And have a good day/night noon

Hope!!!!! This is literally the cutest idea thank you for requesting love youuuu

sorry if the middle pic is weird lol I just always see short hair in your pfps so I thought why not

Something I Need

Thomas x fem!reader

Notes: Modern AU, I don't think Something I Need is on Just Dance but it's my absolute fav one republic song I LOVE it so I had to use it, Minho is your bestie/no.1 enemy btw

Warnings: language/swearing

It's another late afternoon at Gally and Brenda's place, the light streaming through the window as the sun sinks down.

Most of the gang is slowly arriving for game night, Newt helping Brenda with food as Gally prepares the drinks, while Thomas lounges on the couch watching Ben and Winston fight over control of the music.

"No one wants Taylor Swift, bitch."

"She's good, you uncultured asshat. Give me the remote or I swear-"

The doorbell rings and Thomas rolls off the couch, snorting at his friends' antics.

"Alby!" he greets, the door swinging open to reveal his friend... holding eggs in his bare hands.

Alby rolls his eyes at Thomas' raised eyebrows. "Brenda wanted egg whites to put foam things in the drinks. I didn't want to crush them in my bag."

"Sure," says Thomas, amused.

"Hold the door!"

Thomas turns at your voice, grabbing the handle to stop the door from closing. His face breaks into a wide smile as he sees you.

"Hi," you say, grinning.

"Hey," he responds, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. "It's good to see you."

You giggle, blushing. "Yeah, you too."

"Goddammit," says Minho, behind you in the doorway. "You two are sickening."

You and Thomas had only started dating about a week ago, so you're very much still in the honeymoon phase, much to your friends' discomfort.

"Alright!" you exclaim, clapping your hands together. "What's going on here, everyone looks bored as hell."

"They were waiting for the fun people to show up," says Minho with a smirk.

You walk in down the hallway, saying hi to Brenda and dropping the groceries she'd asked for on the counter.

"If you're so fun, what should we do?" asks Winston.

Minho exchanges a look with you, and grins. "Just Dance," he says.

"Seriously?" huffs Winston.

"Hell yes," you jump in. "I'm gonna beat you this time, Minho."

"Just Dance is lame," groans Ben, from his upside down position on the couch.

"Only cause you suck at it," you fire back. You turn to the rest of the group. "Who's playing?"

"I'm in," says Thomas, followed by Newt and Teresa.

"Who's up first?" asks Minho, scrolling through the songlist.

Teresa jumps in, taking the controller you pass to her.

Minho selects the song, and grabs the second controller for himself. "It's a 3-person dance, you want in Tommy-boy?" he waves the control in Thomas' direction.

"You're on," says Thomas.

You and Newt pile onto the couch to watch beside Ben and Winston, with Alby standing beside you.

Your eyes stay on Thomas and his dancing; awkward and not quite aligning with the character on the screen that he's meant to be matching, but so free and joyful, laughing at Minho and Teresa, and himself too. So cute.

Newt leans over and whispers in your ear. "So we agree Tommy's got no dance skills whatsoever?"

Your eyes are still caught on Thomas, as he turns to smile at you mid-dance. You let out a cheer and clap over-enthusiastically, and he laughs at your support.

"Yeah, he can't dance," you reply fondly.

"I bet you think this is the cutest thing in the world," mutters Newt, raising his brows at you.

You snort. "Yeah, I really do," you say honestly.

The song ends with Thomas almost but not quite beating out Teresa, and Minho with a score so high it's not even funny.

You cheer along with the others, as Thomas and Teresa turn to the couch to swap players. When he gets close enough, you slip a hand behind his neck to bring him closer, and pull him into a long kiss, taking the controller from his hand at the same time.

Everyone collectively groans immediately, but you just pull back and grin. "That was for good luck. Thanks, Tommy."

"Anytime," says Thomas, with a matching grin.

You turn to Newt, who's covering his eyes dramatically, and you yank him up by the arm. "Get up here with me, you're doing this."

Minho holds up his controller. "Who wants to swap-"

"Nope, you're playing another," you cut him off, shooting him a competitive glare.

Minho smirks. "This'll be easy."

"Just pick a song, losers," calls Newt, shaking his head, as if he isn't equally competitive once you start playing.

"One Republic!" you say excitedly, and Minho selects Something I Need from the menu.

The song starts softly, making it easier to keep up with the smooth, slower dance moves. But then the beat kicks in.

"Shit!" you yell, laughing. "Why's it so hard?"

The characters do a twirl on the screen, and Newt trips, cursing loudly.

You start mumbling the lyrics to yourself, to try to keep in time. Then the chorus hits, and you decide screw it.

"You've got something I need", you sing loudly, punching each dance move out to the beat.

You grin to yourself, belting the song and watching your score go up.

Thomas watches from behind you, cheering loudly. She's so damn good.

"Hey, Y/n can sing!" says Teresa, letting out a cheer as you clap your hands on the beat, the game showing an 'awesome!' over your name.

Thomas has never heard you sing like this; it's adorable, and surprisingly really good since you're dancing at the same time.

"Is she gonna beat Minho?" Thomas hears Ben ask incredulously.

That's my girl, thinks Thomas.

The song reaches the end, and you turn to your audience at the last line. "If we only live once, I want to live with you." You wink at Thomas and shoot him a wide smile with cheesy finger guns.

Your friends start yelling as the game counts up your scores, the shouts becoming deafening as your bar overtakes Minho's.

"She's done it! She's taken him down!" cackles Ben, who for all his 'Just Dance is lame' has gotten surprisingly into the game.

Minho falls dramatically, gesturing his arms towards you with a flourish. "The true champion. Here, take my crown." He lifts an invisible crown off his head and places it on yours.

"Yes, thank you very much," you say, giving your best attempt at a curtsey.

You and Minho pass your controllers to the next players, Newt insisting on another try.

"You killed it," says Thomas, grinning at you as you join him beside the couch, standing to watch.

"It was the luck you gave me before the game," you joke, leaning into Thomas.

He shakes his head, laughing. "I like your voice, by the way."

"You do? Thank you," you say.

You both laugh as Frypan hops in the wrong direction, knocking into Winston who shouts in protest.

"Hey, Y/n." You look up at Thomas. "You know, you are something I need."

"I-" you can feel the blush rising to your cheeks, and you shove him lightly. "So lame," you groan.

Thomas laughs, and pulls you back in, looping an arm around your waist.

"...I need you too, Thomas."

He smiles, and drops a kiss on your head.

"Oh my god- Winston, are you okay?"

This was so fun to write lolll

Sorry for how long it took, but thank you so much for requesting @hope92100 ❤❤❤

#the maze runner #tmr thomas #thomas x reader #thomas x you #tmr thomas x reader #my writing

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bipanicoverthegravessiblings · 1 month

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weirdass lesbian polycule b/w julia, reader, and ashley because as alfred pennyworth said: "some men just want to watcu the world burn"

if you can't do it then tis fine ^^

The forbidden prequel to the Yuri Square, the Lesbian Triangle of Doom

Julia x Ashley x Fem!Reader

Truly, your taste in women is enough to give someone whiplash

Looking at one of your girlfriends, it’s crystal clear why you love her to passersby

She’s soft spoken, polite, positively adorable- no doubt about it. Overall a wonderful woman

Meanwhile- your other girlfriend is a BPD nightmare

Ashley is loud, brash, acts first and doesn’t really dwell on the potential consequences- not to mention her….”insightful” personality

Though she doesn’t take kindly to the questions people have about your relationship

The comments can make her a bit insecure though- worried that you like Julia, or prefer her cause she’s “low-maintenance”

It couldn’t be further from the truth however

You love both your girlfriends

No matter how drastic their personalities are

Ashley clung to your arm, glaring daggers at the man Julia was profusely apologizing to for her outburst. A small altercation- mishearing a conversation you were having with him, believing he was speaking ill of her. So naturally she chewed him out….very publically you may add.

The three of you had decided on a nice walk, enjoy the scenery the best your miserable world would allow, but faith had other plans. And those plans involved calling a man more swears than you realized there were in the English dictionary.

Ashley grumbled, tightening her grip on your arm. You should be mad, should be reprimanding her for such an act but…

Goddammit she was cute.

Her cheek was pressed against your arm, squishing against it a little as she gave a disgruntled look towards the man- almost trying to intimidate him from where the two of you were standing. It was so cute, like an angry cat.

You couldn’t help but smile, running your hand through her hair to try and help soothe her. She initially flinched under your touch before accepting the affection. The scowl never completely left her face…but it definitely improved a little.

Julia rushed back over to the two of you, looking slightly less worried than she did earlier, “Okay! Good news!” She beamed, “The guy agreed not to sue us for Ashley calling his dead wife a maggot-infested, dead pig!”

“Hurray!” You raised the arm not occupied by your girlfriend in victory.

Ashley grimaced, but truth be told, she was a bit relieved to avoid trouble once again, “…wooooooo.”

Julia joined your other side, and you lowered your hand for her to take. Her approach was a lot gentler than Ashley’s, instead opting to gently take your hand into hers. She gave your hand a small squeeze before the three of you continued on your walk, chatting aimlessly with Julia while Ashley quietly listened- the scowl gradually disappearing in place of a small smile.

How the three of you ended up in this relationship is- beyond your understanding

Originally it was just you and Julia, having gotten together with a good while after her break up with Andrew

Though you’d been acquainted with her before then

You’d been aware of the dumpster fire that was her previous relationship, how she was harassed by Andrew’s sister into calling things off with him

And even then he was a flake with strange priorities

She only ever gave Andrew’s name, never once mentioning his sister’s

So it was a surprise to everyone when you learned that Ashley was the same one who previously harassed your girlfriend

You’d run into Ashley once while buying groceries, and you just kept bumping into it- strangely enough

Though she was fun to talk to, so you didn’t question how this woman just kept showing up wherever you went

Seems she found you to be fun as well

She made her advances pretty clear, even after you told her you had a girlfriend

You’ve had to reprimand her on personal space a lot during that initial friendship period

To make things worse for your conscious, you slowly caught feelings to

You talked with Julia about it, you’d told her about a new friend you made prior to this

It was a long talk, trying to figure out how to move forward and- explain your feelings

You still loved Julia- by gods you loved Julia. How could you not? She was just so sweet and beautiful and understanding and way too good for this shitty world

But what you chalked up to just- initial physical attraction to Ashley blossomed into something more complex

By the end of the talk, Julia wanted to meet Ashley. Get to know her before moving forward with any type of polygamous relationship

You’d all have dinner! Meeting up at your apartment and chatting on the way

….things couldn’t have gone more south.

You stood awkwardly between the two women, fidgeting with your hands nervously. Julia was partly hidden behind you while Ashley was standing in the doorway, scowling.

When she had arrived, both had very different reactions to the others; neither good. Julia went pale, looking like she saw a ghost, while Ashley had a scowl that was ice cold. No one had said anything, but just from the context clues…things didn’t look well.

Julia peered at Ashley from around your body, trembling. It was subtle, but given how close she was you could tell.

Ashley’s expression changed on a millisecond, sickeningly sweet as she grinned, “Well! Isn’t this such a small world..” you could feel the malice behind her voice.

“I…take it you two have already met?” You didn’t really know what to say in this moment.

Julia nodded, Ashley stepped closer.

“Awwww, what’s wrong Julia? I don’t bite~” She cocked her head to the side, trying to peer at Julia from her hiding spot, “Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore your guests?”

You turned to look back at Julia, she glanced back at you and then at the ground.

“Ashley is…Andrew’s sister…” she mumbled. It was the smallest bit of information, but it was enough for you to connect the dots.

Andrew’s sister harassed Julia. And unless he has another sister, then that means Ashley…

“Tattletale.” Ashley grumbled, crossing her arms, “Come onnn, I wasn’t being serious.”

“You told me to slit my wrists proper.”

Ashley made a few motions on her wrist with her finger, “Across the street for attention, down the street for results.”

Julia pulled up her sleeves instinctively. And well- you just about had enough.

“Okay, yeah- that’s it.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “You’re gone.”

“What?”

“What?!”

Ashley looked shocked to say the least, eyes wide. She then narrowed her eyes, looking very angry.

“What do you mean ‘I’m gone’?!”

“I mean you’re gone,” you stood your ground, “You harassed and threatened my girlfriend.”

“I didn’t even threaten her!” Ashley claimed, balling her fists up in frustration. Her nails dug into her palms a little.

“You kinda did…” Julia pointed out, quietly…but she pointed it out.

“Bullshit!” Ashley’s voice caused Julia to flinch back in response, “And you’re not even dating Andrew anymore, so obviously I won’t do it again.”

“How do I know you won’t try to get me to break up with Y/N?…” your girlfriend pointed out again, holding on to your arm for moral support as she stood up for herself, “She told me you like her…”

“Tattletale for Tattletale I guess..” Ashley muttered.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Your voice was firm, leaving no one to question if you meant what you said or not, “I don’t want to be friends with you if you’re going to talk like that to Julia.”

Your statement seemed to have actually gotten a response out of Ashley. Wide eyes at the fear of losing you. She furrowed her brow and directed her pink gaze to the floor, thoughts swirling behind her eyes as she thought about this. You used this moment to silently console Julia, taking her hand into yours and kissing her forehead.

“Alright.” Ashley’s voice caused both of you to jump. Not cause it was angry, just cause she hadn’t spoken for a while.”

You tilted your head, “Alright?”

“Alright,” She crossed her arms once again, looking away, “I’ll behave. I won’t mess with Julia again.”

That was….surprisingly easy. Almost made you question the validity of her words. But further observation told your differently. Ashley was hard to read, yes- but she gave no indication that she was lying. She was looking directly at you, her expression not nervous or anything. In fact it didn’t look much of anything. You didn’t know what to make of it, so you turned to Julia.

Julia had also been studying Ashley. She let go of your arm, feeling a bit more confident in her words, “Why’d you change your mind all of a sudden? I thought you hated me?”

“I never hated you…” Ashley mumbled, “I just- didn’t want you dating my brother.” It felt like she had more to say on that, but she moved on, “And I don’t want to lose Y/N so…” she shrugged, “I won’t ‘threaten’ you.”

“The air quotes don’t make me very confident…”

You rescheduled lunch. You wanted to see if Ashley would make good on her promise to not harass Julia

And surprising both of you, she did.

It was like she was….actually making an effort to be nice to Julia when you all hung out

The two even talked on their own merit, sometimes!

After learning what Ashley had done, it took you a while to reconsider your feelings.

Even if they were still there, which they were, did you even want to date the woman who hurt your girlfriend

Julia had to give you the okay, when she was ready of course. She took longer to come to terms with Ashley than you did

You all had that lunch, and had the conversation you wanted to have originally

Is this the healthiest relationship? No

Ashley still has her moments, and has to be reminded a lot of what she promised

But, you’re willing to brave those storms

Because the outcome is….peaceful. Surprisingly.

Maybe you can convince both of your girlfriends to get therapy so things can be peaceful more often…

#the coffin of andy and leyley #ashley graves #tcoaal julia #ashley graves x reader #tcoaal julia x reader #x reader #so sorry this took a while #I got swamped with school shit

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polutrope · 4 months

Text

Beleria New Year's Eve Special!

For the modern AU holiday prompts. Seven prompts combined into one big New Year's bash.

Relationships: Daeron/Maglor, Fingon/Maedhros, Aegnor/Andreth, Edhellos/Angrod, Celeborn/Galadriel, Feanor & Fingolfin Characters: All of the above and Nerdanel, Finarfin, Earwen, Anaire, Rumil, Orodreth. Rating: T Warnings: Swearing, sexual content, recreational drinking and drunkenness Words: ~5.6k

On AO3. Beleria Cast of Characters

Maglor propped his elbows on his knees and leaned over the board. If he moved the bishop to take Daeron’s pawn, he’d expose his rook in three moves; but no, that would expose his other bishop first.

“Oh my god just make a move already,” Daeron complained. He threw himself dramatically over the arm of his chair.

“Shh,” said Maglor. “I’m thinking.”

“You think too long. Just make a move.”

“Fine.” Maglor took the pawn. Two seconds later, Daeron took his bishop with a knight.

“Goddammit!” said Maglor. “I’m so bad at this.”

“You’re not going to win,” Daeron said without mockery.

“Maybe not, but I’m still seeing it through to the bitter end.”

Daeron sighed loudly. “I think one of your New Year’s resolutions should be knowing when to quit.”

“Yeah? Are we writing each other’s resolutions now? Fine.” Maglor withdrew his attention from the game and considered. “I think you should resolve to have more fun.”

“What? I have plenty of fun. We’re playing a game right now. Games are fun, aren’t they?”

“We’re playing chess, on New Year’s Eve when everyone is out getting drunk and kissing people they shouldn’t.”

“Is that what you want to be doing? Kissing people you shouldn’t?” Daeron pouted.

“No.” Maglor grinned. “Just you, Dae-bae.”

Daeron rolled his eyes at this, and just as Maglor was considering leaning over the coffee table to grab him and demonstrate the veracity of his statement, his phone buzzed against the tabletop.

Maedhros SOS. Dad’s at the party. Sunday, Dec 31 • 8:05 p.m.

“Oh shit,” Maglor said aloud. He began typing a reply.

“What is it?” Daeron asked.

“It’s my brother.” Maglor glanced up from his phone. “Maedhros,” he clarified. “Remember I told you he and Fingon were going to that big New Year’s party hosted by Hithlum Properties at the Lómin Hotel?”

“Yes…”

“Well apparently my dad went.”

“Oh,” said Daeron.

Though Maglor tried his best to guard his boyfriend from the family feud disguised as a property development war between his father — the adopted, but elder, child — and grandpa Finwë’s biological firstborn, Daeron was, after a year of living together and six months in a relationship, well-aware of the significance and danger of Fëanor and Fingolfin being in the same room.

“Why??” Daeron asked.

“I have no idea, just asking my brother now.”

Maedhros Rúmil talked him it. Something about networking and a promising investor for the app. I dont know. But he’s here with mom talked him into it*

Maglor chuckled, recognising in the missing punctuation and typos the signs that Maedhros was approaching a state of inebriation.

Maglor Shit. how’s it going?

Maedhros they haven’t spoke to each other yet. spoken* we’re gonna get out here before it gets bad out of*

Maglor Gonna bail on the big party hey? Where?

Maedhros Finarfin and Eärwen;s place Angrod and co are having a party there

Maglor You’re gonna go to a house party with a bunch of 20 year olds?

Maedhros Shut up. Maybe I’ll forget about my rapid aceleration towards death Acceleration*

Maglor More likely you’ll be made acutely aware of it

Maedhros Come pick us up.

Maglor huffed and shook his head.

“What’s going on?” Daeron asked.

“One sec,” said Maglor.

Unappeased, Daeron stood and came round to plop himself at Maglor’s right and read over his shoulder.

“No, we are absolutely not picking them up,” he said.

Maglor No way. Take a cab. Daeron and I are having a quiet New Year’s in.

Maedhros Come on its like a 50km drive

“I’m not going,” Daeron said decisively.

Maglor pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before typing his reply.

Maglor And how do you intend for us to get home? If I’m gonna go to a house party with a bunch of estranged cousins ten plus years younger than me then no way am I not drinking.

Maedhros Angrod says everyone’s staying over. Finarfin and Eärwen are here at the hotel, they won’t be there til tomorrow. House is ours.

Maglor lowered the phone and folded one leg onto the couch, pivoting his body to face Daeron, who was frowning deeply.

“Okay,” said Maglor, setting both hands on Daeron’s thighs and affecting his most alluring puppy-dog eyes. “Before you say no — again — hear me out.”

When he spotted Rúmil at the coat check, Fëanor waved off a passing caterer and strode confidently towards his friend.

“There you are,” he said, forcing his way into the pleasantries Rúmil was presently exchanging with some young man in an obviously-rented suit.

“Ah, Fëanáro!” Rúmil exclaimed, his eyes alight beneath the droop of his wrinkled lids. He had always looked old, even back when they had met in university, but he wore his age well, appearing more wizened than weary. “You came! I suppose I owe thanks to your lovely wife?”

“You two always did enjoy uniting against me,” Fëanor said jovially, then drew his mouth back into a line. “So where is this investor?”

“Oh, he’s here.” Rúmil winked as he handed his coat to the clerk. Then he took Fëanor’s arm just above the elbow and guided him towards the centre of the hall.

Rúmil paused along the way, shaking hands with every other cluster of people they passed. He was a good business partner, Fëanor admitted. Frankly he was the only person alive Fëanor could still tolerate collaborating with, besides Nerdanel. But Rúmil, whom Fëanor had met as an undergraduate during his brief flirtation with the humanities, was an Ideas Man. Not particularly driven towards results and the perfection of those ideas (which was why he’d retired last year without ever making full professor). Results, then, were Fëanor’s role in the development of the app — a highly intelligent business communications translation tool — that they had been working on for the past year. For his efforts, it was agreed that seventy percent of all profits would go to Fëanor. Income he greatly needed if Ambar Metta was to claw out of its legal debts.

Catching sight of his son across the room, Fëanor frowned. Maedhros had been one of those people he’d tolerated collaborating with, when he’d been the company’s chief legal officer. Then the young man presently clasping Maedhros’ shoulder and doubling over with uninhibited laughter had stuffed his head full of values. The only value a corporation needed to uphold, in Fëanor’s opinion, was the cash value of its bottom line.

Well. He supposed he was glad Maedhros had not altogether turned against him: he was doing good work building community relationships for the company now. Fëanor just hoped it wouldn’t come at too high a cost.

And, as baffling as it was to Fëanor that a spawn of Fingolfin Noldoran could make a pleasant conversation partner, never mind a satisfactory domestic partner (or whatever new-fangled thing they called one another) Fingon still seemed to make Maedhros happy after all these years. And Maedhros’ happiness was, Fëanor admitted, also a valuable thing. He’d come to accept the change.

Turning his gaze from his son and smiling to himself, Fëanor sipped from his champagne flute. As he lowered it, his eyes landed on someone his heart would never, so long as he lived, be moved to accept.

The evening’s gracious host smugly grinning down at him.

“Fingolfin,” Fëanor said coldly.

Before Fëanor could react, Fingolfin had seized his hand and was giving it a firm shake. Fëanor drew back as if he had been burned.

Fingolfin’s expression betrayed no acknowledgement of the slight. “Brother,” he said. (The audacity!) “I am so glad you came!”

“Please do not call me that,” Fëanor whispered through clenched teeth. “I’ve never had a brother.”

He felt Rúmil’s long fingers curl around his shoulder and was aware at the same time of Nerdanel’s auburn head making its way through the crowd towards them. She flanked his other side.

“So, I suppose Rúmil told you?” Fingolfin said.

Told him what? Fëanor wondered, beetling his brows. But Fingolfin did not wait for answer.

“As a lifelong admirer of your business acumen, I am needless to say thrilled that we will finally be working together. Mr. Finvesen.” Fingolfin winked and an image of his champagne breaking over those chiselled cheekbones flashed across Fëanor’s mind.

“What do you mean?” asked Fëanor. “Is this some kind of joke? I have no intention of working with Hithlum Properties.”

Fingolfin laughed but looked nervous. “No! On the app! Rúmil,” he finally released Fëanor’s eyes to look at the other man, “don’t tell me you failed to mention my name.”

Fëanor had lurched to the obvious and odious conclusion before Fingolfin had finished speaking. “You are the investor?” He jerked out of Rúmil’s grasp and cut a glance at Nerdanel. “And you both knew this?” Nerdanel opened her mouth to speak but Fëanor cut her short (that would cost him dearly but his blood boiled too hot to care). “No,” he said, raising a hand to silence them all. “I will not abide this indignity. I do not need your charity, Noldoran.”

“Charity!” Fingolfin chuckled, a little too shrilly. “Is it charity to invest in a brilliant concept?”

“I don’t need your flattery, either,” Fëanor snarled. “What is your game here, Fingolfin? You think Finwë’s restless ghost is waiting for our reconciliation? Hm? Leave it be already. He’s a corpse in the ground on the other side of the world.” Fingolfin’s lips and the skin around his eyes twitched, betraying his distress. Good: That had been Fëanor’s intent.

“Unhand me!” he said to Rúmil and Nerdanel, though neither of them had a hand on him. “I will not do business with this man.” He jabbed a finger in Fingolfin’s direction. “I don’t care how much money he lays out in front of us like a greasy block of cheese, as though we were some mangy rats he wants to entrap in his network of ‘friends’. I am not his friend and I never will be.”

With that, Fëanor spun on his heels and stormed out of the hall and did not stop until he was standing outside the hotel in the dark drizzly night without a coat.

In the passenger seat of Maglor’s hatchback, Daeron impatiently bonked the headrest with the back of his skull and slumped lower in the chair.

“Where are they?” he complained.

He needed to get to a place with wine as soon as possible, and that place was still an hour’s drive away. An hour that he would spend tying himself in knots speculating on every possible social misstep he could make that evening among dozens of people he’d never met before. He could not believe he was doing this. But ultimately it had been impossible to refuse a whole week without having to prepare a single meal — plus certain… other favours he had negotiated.

Maglor frowned and pressed his palms into the steering wheel. “I don’t know. Maybe I should go in and find them…”

“Yes,” Daeron agreed. “Do that.”

“But if anyone sees me—”

“Put your hood up,” Daeron said, and did for Maglor as he’d suggested. Then he pulled sunglasses from the ceiling compartment. “And wear these.”

“Ow—” said Maglor, as an arm of the sunglasses nearly struck his eye. “I’m not wearing these,” he said, pushing Daeron’s hand away. “Fine, I’ll go in. But I’m warning you — it could be a while if anyone spots me.”

“Fine. I’ll be taking a nap,” said Daeron. He reclined his seat and put the sunglasses on his own face. Maglor sighed, then the door thumped shut behind him.

No more than two minutes could have passed when his heart nearly launched itself from his chest at the sound of fingers tapping at the window.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, and sat bolt upright. The shadow of a face obscured most of the driver’s side window. Daeron yanked the sunglasses off.

“Yes?” he said, affecting as much calm as he could. “Can I help you?”

The stranger mouthed some unintelligible words and pointed at the seat. Then the door swung open.

Daeron recoiled. “Get out!” he screamed.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the stranger said in a polished, level voice. “I’m Fëanor.” A long hand plunged out of the dark and into Daeron’s personal space. “And you must be Daeron. Pleased to finally meet you.”

“Uh, hi,” said Daeron, and not knowing what else to do accepted Fëanor’s handshake.

Fëanor gave an approving grunt. “A solid handshake, that’s a good sign.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind,” Fëanor laughed. “I apologise for barging in on you like this. I assumed it was my son when I saw his car and had to find out what he was doing out here— he came with you I assume? Where is he?” Daeron opened his mouth to answer but Fëanor forged ahead. “But when I saw you there, well easy enough to put together who you were, and I have been dying to meet you. I was beginning to wonder if Cáno had made you up to get us all to stop trying to set him up with someone. We just wanted him to stop moping around! Which is why I knew he hadn’t made you up, because he stopped moping. As much.”

Fëanor chuckled. Daeron did not. He decided not to remind Fëanor that they had, in fact, met already — the day Daeron signed the lease to rent the room in Maglor’s place. But then he was just a tenant, not his son’s boyfriend.

“Yep,” Daeron said, “believe it not, I’m really dating your mopey son.”

Fëanor let loose a peal of laughter.

“A solid handshake and a dry wit! I like you already, Daeron. Isn’t it funny, though, that my two eldest sons are dating the sons of the two men in Beleria who cause me the most grief? By the way,” Fëanor pivoted towards him, “why didn’t your father come to this soirée of Fingolfin’s?” Fëanor smiled smugly as if this pleased him. “I suppose the Mayor of Beleria is in high demand on a night like this, though. Did Elu have somewhere better to be?”

“Uh, no, actually,” said Daeron. “He’s at home.”

“I see,” Fëanor said, and smoothed his tie. “Not giving any special speeches for the people or anything?”

“Nope,” said Daeron.

“Interesting. Elu is usually into that sort of thing, isn’t he? Pandering to the masses?”

Daeron scowled.

Fëanor laughed again. “Good, good. I like people who wear their feelings plainly. You’re a very transparent person, I can see why Cáno likes you.”

“Thanks?” Daeron said, half-sincere. No one had ever remarked on this trait of his positively before.

“He’s rather transparent, too, you know. That could be a problem between you.” He puckered his lips thoughtfully and looked Daeron up and down. “Just make sure you remain your own people. Separate entities, don’t bleed into each other. That’s what happened with his ex-husband. He was a musician, too, as I am sure Cáno has told you.” Maglor had told Daeron, at more length than Daeron thought necessary. He was not keen on hearing about it again from his father. “They were in the same band — don’t start a band with him!”

“Oh, there’s no risk of that,” said Daeron. “I only do solo work.”

“Good! I am an individual competitor myself. Everyone tells you you have to be a ‘team player’ to do well in life.” Fëanor wagged a finger. “Wrong. You have to be a strong leader. You have to know your ideals and stick to them. Actually, before I came out here for a breath of fresh air, I was put in a very unpleasant situation by a fellow I am ‘collaborating’ on something with—”

“Dad??” The driver’s door swung open to reveal Maglor, mouth gaping in an expression of horror and concern. “What are you doing in my car?”

“Oh, hello, Cáno,” Fëanor said cheerfully. “I was just getting to know your boyfriend you’ve refused to introduce me to.”

Maglor’s protest was cut off by Fingon, then Maedhros, piling into the backseat, laughing.

“Hello!” said Fëanor, craning his neck to look at them. “Are you two leaving already?”

Daeron could not see, but he could feel the despair settle into the sudden silence behind him.

“Don’t look so horrified, Nelyo,” Fëanor said. “I wish I could leave this damn party! All right, all right, I know when I’m not wanted!” He swung one leg out of the car and turned his body back to shake Daeron’s hand. “Very nice to meet you, Daeron. We’ll have to continue this conversation again soon. Good night! Good night, Cáno,” he said as he stood and gave Maglor, still stunned, a quick embrace. “Good night Nelyo, Fingon, happy New Year!”

He trotted back into the hotel, arms swinging at his sides but visibly shivering.

“I’m so sorry,” Maglor said. He was pale with panic. “Are you okay? What did he say to you?”

“It’s fine,” said Daeron, and chuckled. “He seems like an interesting guy. I think we’ll get along well, actually.”

Maglor’s eyes widened while his mouth contracted into a tight ball. He looked deeply perturbed by this idea.

“Come on!” Fingon shouted from the backseat. “Let’s go!”

“They really need to build a bridge here,” said Orodreth. He huffed impatiently. The tunnel was backed up for kilometres, bumper-to-bumper traffic crawling down the Sirion Expressway. He just wanted to be home. Well, his parents’ home, which was the only permanent home he had.

The drive from the base at Minas Tirith had been a nightmare. Having already missed Yule after his deployment was extended by a week, he and Lorneth had then been stuck at the base for two days due to a blizzard. When they finally got out, there’d been a road closure on the Sirion that had them zig-zagging through the countryside for three hours longer than it should have taken them. And, of course, entering Beleria and nine p.m. on New Year’s eve meant going through three DUI checkpoints. (“No, officer, we don’t drink. Just going home, sir. Asleep before midnight if we can manage it, sir.”)

No, Orodreth was not ‘fun’, and that was how he liked it.

Thirty minutes later, they rounded the bend toward the cul-de-sac where Finarfin and Eärwen had the sprawling beach home he and his siblings had grown up in.

“Someone must be having a party,” Lorneth said. “Look at all these cars parked.”

Orodreth grunted. “Hopefully not one of the neighbours.”

But as they drew nearer to the house, a feeling of dread took root in his stomach.

Lorneth voiced his fear. “No, not a neighbour. Looks like it’s at… your place.”

Indeed, rolling slowly past the packed driveway, the house pumped so loudly with music he could feel it through the car’s metal casing.

“Fucking hell,” he said.

Aegnor slumped further into the Adirondack chair on the deck and tugged his wool coat across his chest. It was a beautifully clear night. Thanks to the shot of whisky Fingon had insisted they take to inaugurate the auspicious arrival of a “former party king, out of retirement for one night only!”, the stars glittering over the dark ocean swam in and out of focus. It reminded Aegnor of a painting. Straining to hear the slow rise and retreat of waves against the shore, he was almost able to tune out Angrod and Fingon’s karaoke rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody as it deteriorated into chaotic screaming.

“Mind if I join you?”

Aegnor startled and looked towards the voice. It was the cute brunette he’d been stealing glances at all evening. Words congealed on his tongue.

“Yeah, sure,” he managed.

Stay cool, he thought to himself. Unlike his siblings, Aegnor was terrible with girls. He knew he was, objectively, attractive enough, but he was entirely lacking the charisma that came so naturally to everyone in his family. Well, except Orodreth: but Orodreth had found himself a marine as boring as he was to marry and that was that.

“I’m Andreth,” the woman said, slanting him a smile.

“Aegnor,” said Aegnor.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You do?” Aegnor sat upright.

Andreth shrugged and took a moderate sip from her red plastic cup. “Edhellos gave me everyone’s names.”

“Oh. Are you friends with my sister?”

“I have a class with Galadriel, yeah. But I mostly know Edhellos. She wanted me at the party as her wingman. But seems she’s doing fine without me.”

That was when Aegnor noticed a woman’s voice had replaced Fingon’s on the mic. There was more giggling than singing on her part.

“Yeah,” said Aegnor, and smiled. “If it’s my brother she’s after she won’t have any trouble with that.”

Andreth’s laughter wasn’t like most girls’ Aegnor’s age — all high and airy. It was genuine, a little wry, a soft low roll of amusement. He felt like a helplessly flopping fish being reeled into her orbit. Realising that half his torso was, in fact, reaching towards her, he pulled back sheepishly.

“So what class are you taking with my sister?” he asked, for the sake of saying something, but also because he was bursting with the desire to know everything he could about this person.

“Existentialism,” she said.

“Wow,” said Aegnor, then idiotically added, “you’re really smart.”

Andreth laughed again but didn’t deny it. “What do you do?”

“I, uh…” I’m a dumb jock, Aegnor thought. Definitely not good enough for you. “I play volleyball.” He didn’t mention it was for the varsity team. People tended to judge when they found out their athletic fees went towards your tuition.

“Cool,” she said, and the clenching beneath Aegnor’s ribs loosened when she didn’t scowl in distaste. “Your family is pretty athletic, huh?”

“Yeah, they are. Except Finrod. My oldest brother. He’s not here. I think you’d like him. He’s into deep shit, too.”

Then Andreth did scowl. A charming sort of scowl. “I don’t know, I find most philosopher types pretty annoying. Besides, what’s the point of filling your life with people who are just the same as you?”

Aegnor stared at her, seeing his own reflection in her big round glasses. His hair hung in his face, and he had a stupid grin plastered across it, but the openness, the warmth of Andreth’s expression put him entirely at ease.

She sipped her drink again without breaking eye contact, then licked a dribble of red wine from her lips. “Wanna go for a walk?” she asked.

Aegnor leapt up from his seat, and his head spun with the suddenness of the motion. “Yes, definitely!”

Fingolfin found his brother on the balcony, his forearms resting casually on the railing as he contemplated the street below.

“I don’t know why you bother with him,” Finarfin said, straightening. His bright green eyes caught the glow of the city light.

“You saw, eh?” Fingolfin sipped his champagne.

“Heard more than saw,” said Finarfin. “What was it about this time?”

“I extend my hand for him to take!” Fingolfin replied, exasperated. “I offer my help, and he hates me even more.”

“What did you do?”

Fingolfin sighed. “I offered to invest in his project. His translation app.”

“Oof.” Finarfin shook his head. “What were you thinking?”

“What do you mean? I thought to show my admiration of his ideas, I thought to build a relationship with him around something that wasn’t real estate-related.”

“You insulted him,” Finarfin said.

“How?!”

“Come, don’t be so naive. You think he wants your charity?”

“Charity. That’s what he said.”

“You know,” said Finarfin, “if you’re looking to dispose of money you have a brother whose always in need of producers.”

“I’ve told you before I’m glad to support your ideas, any of them.”

“Good! Because I was thinking of making a short documentary about the housing crisis in Beleria…”

Fingolfin glared down at him, and Finarfin grinned.

“I’m kidding, of course. I have no interest in getting involved in any issues, least of all yours. Nope. I’ll stick to the important stuff: staying behind the camera making romantic comedies to keep the masses distracted while my brothers pull at the edges of a fraying society.”

“Arvo…”

“I know, I know. You’re different.”

“I am,” Fingolfin asserted, as much for himself as for his brother. “In fact, I have been thinking of resolutions.”

“Have you?”

“Yes — and I think in the New Year I am going to conduct a company review. See if we can afford to do what I’ve always wanted, since the beginning. Affordable housing.”

“Really? That’s what you’ve always wanted?”

“Yes. And — I was thinking of mentoring one of my senior staff as a replacement and making a transition to politics. Elu has hinted that he intends to retire after his current term. I’d like to run for Mayor.”

“Huh,” said Finarfin. “That sounds like a great way to butt heads with Fëanor ten times more often than you already do.”

“Maybe I could inspire him to change, push him towards a more benevolent—”

Finarfin laughed, loudly.

“What’s so funny?” said a new voice.

Behind them, Fëanor loomed, arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh hello, Fëanáro!” said Finarfin. “We were just talking about you.”

Fingolfin shot him a look. “We were not. Finarfin is drunk.”

“I wish,” Finarfin muttered, and frowned into his empty glass.

“Never mind, I don’t care,” said Fëanor, and flicked a dismissive hand in Finarfin’s direction. “I’d like to talk to you about your investment offer,” he said to Fingolfin, jutting his jaw forward proudly.

Fingolfin nearly dropped his drink. “Oh?”

“Yes. I’ve had a moment to consider.” (He’d spoken to Nerdanel, Fingolfin guessed, and had to bite his cheeks to keep from smiling.) “And I think it might be a sensible…” he squinted, as if the next word pained him— “partnership.”

Even though Celeborn had come to this party expressly to talk to Galadriel, it had taken him two hours to work up the courage to do so.

“Hey,” he said, coming to stand beside her. “I saw your drink was empty, and I uh, got you another one.”

He held out the cup for her to take. Vodka soda, right?” he confirmed, even though he’d conducted thorough research beforehand.

“Do I know you?” she asked, looking him up and down.

A lump of dismay lodged in Celeborn’s throat. But of course, why would she remember him? He might have been thinking of her for weeks, he might have contrived to find himself at this party for the sole purpose of crossing paths with her again, but she was… well, way out of his league, like Galathil had said. He wished he could sink through the floor.

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak. “We met at the Nordic spa, a few weeks ago. It was your birthday, I think.”

“Oh!” Recognition lit up her face and she accepted the drink. “Right, I remember. Tel-something, right?”

“Celeborn,” he said, and heaved a sigh of relief. “Yeah.”

“Nice to see you again, Celeborn. How’ve you been?”

“I don’t do karaoke,” Daeron had said, when Maglor had tried, shortly after their arrival, to drag him to the stage set up in the corner of one large room.

Some time later (who knew how long, time had blurred about half-way through the third beer), Daeron bounced beside him, belting, “Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy! But here’s my number, so call me maybe?” while Maglor’s attempts at harmonising were increasingly marred by fits of laughter. The alcohol helped, certainly, but Daeron was no less immune to the thrilling effects of an approving audience than Maglor.

After Angrod had disappeared with that vapid redhead and Fingon had escorted his sloshed redhead away from the festivities (Maglor had not seen Maedhros let loose like that for years and was happy both that his brother was having fun and that he would be Fingon’s problem in the morning), no one had contested Maglor and Daeron’s monopoly of the karaoke equipment. Which was good, because Maglor had no intention of ceding the spotlight to anyone else — besides, of course, Daeron.

“I’m worried,” Anairë said, then scraped an olive from her martini stick with her teeth. She chewed it thoughtfully.

“Oh, forget about them, girl!” Eärwen gave her a light smack. “Arvo will keep them under control.”

“I don’t know, they seem to be completely unaware of your husband’s existence,” Nerdanel said to Eärwen.

“Poor Arvo,” said Eärwen. “Maybe I should rescue him…”

“No.” Nerdanel extended one long braceleted arm to stop the other woman from stepping forward. “You’re right. He’s a tempering influence, even if they are ignoring him.”

“I can’t tell if they’re arguing or aggressively agreeing,” said Anairë, squinting. “The latter seems extremely unlikely, but…”

“One can hope,” said Nerdanel.

“Eeee!” Edhellos squealed, and stamped her feet excitedly.

“What was that about?” Angrod smirked at the delightfully rosy-cheeked girl he’d just pinned against the back of his bedroom door.

“I can’t believe it’s happening!” she gushed.

“What?” Angrod asked, though he had some idea. He nuzzled at her neck to bury his smug expression.

“You’re gonna be my midnight kiss!”

“I plan to be doing more than kissing you by then,” said Angrod, and dropped to his knees. His hands lingered over the curve of her ass. “God, you’re so hot.”

Across the bay, a single firework boomed and burst into a hundred golden rays.

“Must be almost midnight,” said Andreth. It was the first thing they’d said to each other in a while — ever since their hands had somehow found each other on the log between them.

“Mmhmm,” said Aegnor. He thought about checking the time on his phone but was too scared to move and break the spell of the moment.

“You wanna go back to the party for the countdown?” Andreth asked.

“I don’t think we’d have time,” Aegnor said.

“No, probably not,” said Andreth, and shuffled closer to him so their shoulders brushed.

Aegnor held his breath.

“Ger ready, folks! One minute to midnight!” a musician announced from the small stage at the front of the hall.

Anairë tutted. “This is his party, Fingolfin should be leading the countdown.”

“Shh. Leave them,” said Nerdanel, attention rapt on their husbands still locked in conversation.

“Well,” said Finarfin, pocketing his phone. “It’s almost midnight, I’m gonna go kiss my wife.”

Fëanor and Fingolfin were far too intent on each other to notice him leave.

“Hey guys! Twenty seconds to midnight!” someone screamed over the music.

“Shit!” said Maglor, abruptly interrupting a very entertaining rendition of Single Ladies.

“Someone dim the lights!” Daeron shouted.

“Ten, nine, eight…” Maglor yelled into the mic, a few seconds off.

“Do you hear that?” Angrod asked between gasps. “I think it’s midnight.”

Edhellos bent over him and shoved her tongue down his throat.

“… seven, six…”

Celeborn stared ahead, his cheeks bright pink.

“You okay?” said Galadriel.

“Hm?” he said as she tugged on his hand.

“…five, four…”

Not bothering to wait out the last three seconds, Galadriel grabbed his face between her hands and kissed him, drawing a surprised squeak from his throat that quickly slid into an adoring sigh as his hand found her waist.

“… three, two…”

“Why is everyone shouting?” Maedhros groaned, blearily blinking awake to see Fingon sprawled beside him on a strange bed. “Shit, did I fall asleep?”

“You did.” Fingon handed him a glass of water. Rivulets dribbled down Maedhros’ neck as he poured it back.

“Ugh. I really can’t do this anymore.”

“No. But I love you any way.” Fingon kissed his mouth, which must have tasted awful. “Happy new year, babe.”

“…one.”

A bouquet of fireworks exploded over the lights of Beleria in the distance, and nothing had ever seemed more natural to Aegnor than leaning in to push his fingers into Andreth’s dark hair and capturing her lips in a kiss.

“Happy New Year!!” chorused a hundred voices.

“My god, is it midnight already?” said Fëanor, pressing a hand to Fingolfin’s chest in his surprise. He had not realised they were standing so close.

“Guess so.” Fingolfin laughed.

“Well, brother,” said Fëanor, holding out a hand, “shall we seal our deal with a midnight handshake?”

A reckless, wicked smile, one he had never before seen, now leapt to life on Fingolfin’s face. “Am I not good enough for a kiss?” he said, and before Fëanor could protest Fingolfin had him in both arms, swooping him low and planting a firm kiss to his lips.

“Oh my god,” said Anairë. “Are you seeing—”

But she didn’t finish because Nerdanel’s lips had sealed off her throat.

It had been sloppy and broken up by giggles, but Maglor could not remember a more exhilarating kiss in his life.

He stared at Daeron. Daeron stared back. It was strange: they’d lived together a year, been sleeping together half that time, and yet, perhaps because of the haste and ease with which they’d fallen into a domestic rhythm, they’d neglected many of the customary milestones of a new romance.

Maglor said it first. “I love you.”

“Really?”

Maglor laughed. “Yes, really. Obviously.”

When Daeron continued to stare, Maglor nudged him. “Well? Are you gonna say you love me?”

“Yeah. Just… kiss me again first.”

“Gladly,” said Maglor, and did so, longer and less messily this time. Someone in the crowd whooped.

“Happy New Year,” Daeron said when they pulled apart. “I love you.”

The prompts for this were: Daeron/Maglor + Board games from @searchingforserendipity25 and same + Enduring the in-laws from @melestasflight (who also requested Russingon hooking up), Orodreth/His Partner + Winter driving from @acretosorien, Feanor & Fingolfin + Kissing at midnight (it's platonic) and Fingolfin & Siblings + Reflections and resolutions from @ettelene, and Aegnor/Andreth + Kissing at midnight from @emyn-arnens. I also included some bonus follow-up on this fill for Celeborn/Galadriel and Angrod/Edhellos. Whew!

#modern au #beleria au #my fic #daemags #aegnor x andreth #russingon #new year's eve #new year's fic #feanor #fingolfin #arafinweans

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ciciceyina · 11 months

Text

Touch Starved part 2

Pairing: Idol!Mingyu x Fem Carat!reader

Genre: Soulmate Au

Short Summary: Y/n has her life completely uprooted the day her and Kim Mingyu meet for the first time. Follow along as y/n moves to South Korea in order to be with her soulmate and soon realizes that the life she once fantasized about isn't all that she thought it would be.

Authors note: Ty all for the kudos on the last part. I hope you enjoy this one, I’ll be touching a little bit on how the soulmate connection works in this part. More fun stuff to come in part 3 :)

Warnings: Hospital, Cursing?

You regain consciousness slowly, the sleep was nice, you don't want to open your eyes just yet. The mechanical beeping from your left side concerned you though. What could be making that noise? It surely wasn’t your phone. The alarm you set every morning doesn't sound like that. You should open your eyes, maybe just for five more minutes won’t hurt.

“Y/N.” Someone hisses your name. Goddammit this sleep is too good. Maybe if you pretend to not hear them, they’ll go away.

“Y/N!” Someone hisses louder, right next to your right ear.

You open your eyes to an unfamiliar room, panic floods your system for a second. Until you look to see your friend Marie sighing beside you. You rub at your eyes and notice IV’s are stuck in your arm. Now you panic, you shake your arm in the hopes to get rid of them. Marie grabs your arm.

“Y/N stop that, relax everything is okay. You’re still a little sleepy, the doctor is on their way.” You look at your friend, dread overcomes you.

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, I’m sorry. I just got this overwhelming feeling all of a sudden.” You look around the hospital room. The monitor beeps every few seconds, keeping track of your heart rate. You don’t remember why you are here, you feel fine . Great even, the sleep was probably some of the best you have gotten lately. Then it dawns on you, you spook Marie by grabbing her wrists in a tight grab, you needed to look her in the eyes for this.

“Marie, Kim Mingyu is my soulmate.” She smiles big and starts shaking her arms that are in your grasp.

“I know! Y/N I can’t fucking believe it. Kim Mingyu, Y/N. Kim Mingyu is your soulmate. You’re so lucky!” You sigh heavily. Thankfully, that wasn’t also a part of a dream.

“Where are the twins?” You ask searching for them.

“They’re at the concert, they should be finishing up right about now actually. They’ll be here, I sent them the address.”

“I can’t fucking believe I missed them Aju Nicing 5 million times.” You slam your head back, pain shoots through your skull and you wince. Fuck. You had all but forgotten about your hard tumble.

“Oh don’t worry. I’m sure Kim Mingyu will Aju Nice for you in private as many times as you’d like.” She wiggles her brows and you choke on your laughter. Tears start to form, the thought of this was insane to you.

“ Wait, you missed the concert. You should have gone, we spent too much on those tickets.” You pat her arm. Marie smiles sadly at you.

“I wasn’t about to leave my bestie alone in a state she doesn’t know…in a hospital of all places. Also don’t just act all nonchalant. Kim Mingyu, y/n. Kim fucking Mingyu. Ahh.” You try your best to swat at her. She dodges your attempts easily with a goofy smile on her face.

“Shhh, you can’t be yelling his name like that. I’m still in shock. Okay. No, there's no way. Probably won’t believe it unless he’s right in front of me.” You laugh at yourself and rest your head in your hands.

A knock echoes through the room startling you a little. The doctor strides in and takes a look at your chart. Marie settles into the chair next to you.

“So misses L/N everything looks fine. You were just a bit dehydrated and the sudden pain alongside finding your soulmate had your body in a heightened state so that’s why you fainted. I have you on some liquids right now. You should be free to go in a couple of hours. The lawyers outside insist on speaking with you, would you like me to send them in?” She puts down your chart and glances between you and Marie. Lawyers…is this for real?

“Don’t feel like you need to rush talking to them y/n. They can wait until you are ready.” Marie informs you. You nod at her.

“No, it’s okay. No use in putting it off really.” The doctor nods. You hope you sound confident, but your stomach flipped in anxiety. It’s scary to think that this was real and that you’d be meeting with higher ups.

“I’m free to send them in then?” You hum your agreement and the doctor walks out to get them.

Turning to marie you day, “I can't believe I’m here because i didn't drink enough water. How lame is this.” Marie laughs at you and you give her a deadpan expression.

“Well we did skip a meal or two today.” She reasons.

The sound of the door creaking draws your attention away from your friend. Only two people walk in. The man from earlier and a woman you don’t recognize. The woman looks young and she smiles at you. Meanwhile the man is much older and is much less friendly looking. They both carry briefcases with them which they set down. They bow slightly.

“Hello miss L/N, my name is Jinyoung, I’m on the legal team for Seventeen. I’ll be translating most of what Mr. Kang here has to say. I’ll be quoting him word for word so if anything is confusing, don’t be afraid to ask.” You nod meekly.

For the next hour you sat and listened, looking through the large packet of papers that they had sat in front of you. Most of it was NDA paperwork. Marie and the twins had their own that they would need to sign. There was a section for you to write down who in your immediate family would need to know. You jotted down your parents and your two sisters. Deciding anyone else in your family would be too much.You didn't want to burden too many people with this secret. More NDAs were to be made up for them. She went over how you were to move to South Korea within the next month if you chose to go through with being Mingyu’s soulmate. When you questioned what she meant by that, she brought up the surgery that could take place so that the two of you were no longer linked.

The surgery was commonplace now, you never even gave it a thought in the past. Two soulmates who both agreed to sever their cosmic connection. You never understood and it made you sick whenever you heard about it. Of course you kept an open mind in the past even watching a few documentaries on it. Patients explaining why they went through with it. Love outside of soulmate connection, those who are too engrossed in their careers, soulmates who live in different countries. Yes, relying on someone through touch to live was rather inconvenient especially in a capitalistic society. However, the side effects were cruel. Some even died after having the surgery almost as if it weren’t to be done in the first place. You refused to do that to your soulmate. You sigh, catching Jinyoung's attention.

“Is there anything you wanted to ask?” Mr Kang raises a brow at you. You don’t appreciate his attitude, you’ve been all but compliment while they ramble on about their rules.

“Does he want the surgery?” God he wants the surgery, he’s had no more than a minute with you and he’s already ready to cut ties. Why else would they be bringing this up? Mr. Kang says something in Korean and Jinyoung nods.

“Unfortunately we do not know. He hasn’t come forth saying he would want it done in the past. However, he hasn’t had the time, with the concert and all since meeting you. There is a slight possibility that his mind has changed since we last spoke with him. We’ll have to speak with him, thank you for bringing that up. But what really matters right now is if you want the surgery?” You shake your head.

“ No, that's the last thing I want. Can we go back to moving to South Korea in a month? I live with my sister. I can't just leave her, we split the rent. She would never be able to afford it by herself. I know i have to quit my job, but how am i supposed to support myself in Korea, i don't have much in savings and i doubt i can get a job when i know little korean.”

“If you’re worried about any expenses don’t be. Mr. Kim will be taking care of everything. They’re fully aware that due to their lifestyle they’ll have to support their soulmates. We can enroll you in Korean classes too.”

“He’s paying for everything? What? Like I’m a housewife?” As nice as not working for a while sounds, putting your life into a man's hands is scary. You've always been on your own, relying on no one.

“You’re not expected to get a job once you arrive in Korea. The process for a working permit is extensive, not to mention most companies would not allow how much time off you would need to support Mr. Kim. They often travel for shoots and we need you to be easily accessible in case of any emergencies. Especially for the first month or so. As for your sister, are you sure she can’t move in with anyone else?” Frustrated with the switch in topic you fiddle with your hands.

“No, I’m not going to make her anyways.” Jinyoung relays to Mr Kang. You were going to be stubborn, there is only so much they can change. Disrupting your sister's life is the last thing you want to do.

“We can take care of it, we’ll either supplement the rent or we can find a house for her. Anything else?”

“Yes, I have a dog. He will need to come with me. Will that be an issue?”

“You sister can’t take-“

“No.” You cut off Jinyoung. She sighs and Mr Kang looks stressed.

“We do have a member who is afraid of dogs so we can’t let him live in the dorms.”

“Then I’ll live somewhere else. He’s my responsibility and he has to come with me.” Mr Kang and Jinyoung discuss back and forth for a bit. You’re frustrated, you swallow the lump in your throat. Sometimes when you were so angry you felt the need to cry. You hate how emotional you can get, but you can’t help it. It’s just a part of you. Now was not the time to cry however. You’re strong and won’t be a pushover.

“We’ll make arrangements, we can talk later about that. Otherwise, do you have any more questions?” Not that you can think of, you shake your head.

“Very well I’ll let Mr Kang continue then.”

They carry on with their speech. You sign a few more documents, the lawyer talk was making you feel a bit overwhelmed. You are tired and you have a lot to think about.

“We will have someone assigned to you who will help you get everything organized for your move to South Korea. It will most likely be me since I’m the only translator who deals with all of this paperwork. For now, these are all the documents we need you to sign. Once we’ve spoken with Mr Kim we’ll have you sign another contract about your living arrangements. We will catch your two friends when they get back in from the concert. Otherwise, we’ll be in touch.” Mr. Kang leaves immediately while Jinyoung gathers the papers laid out in front of you leaving with a curt bob of her head.

“Are you okay, y/n?” Marie asks.

“I dunno, that was a lot to take in. This is scary, completely uprooting my life for some man.” Sighing, you bring the sheets closer to get comfortable.

“Could you get us something to eat? I’m starving.” You whisper, your friend gives you a sad smile but sets off regardless.

“I’ll text you what they have.” She squeezes your ankle on her way out.

Really, you wanted to be alone. It’s starting to settle in how scary this is about to be. When you were little you dreamed about meeting your soulmate, it wasn’t like this. They were supposed to sweep you off your feet and marry you on the spot. You admit the marriage part was outlandish, but it was supposed to be romantic. Not a bunch of paperwork. Maybe you were in way over your head with this. Can I really be an idol's soulmate? But it’s not like you asked for an idol to be your soulmate. I did entertain the idea a few times.

You sigh loudly searching for your phone. You give up after a few minutes. You decide to forget it, Marie can pick anything out at this point and you’d eat it. You switch on the tv instead while you wait for her to return. Once she does she gives you grief about not checking your phone. You shrugged her off and dug into the food. The twins follow in shortly after her with grim faces.

“How was the concert?” You ask.

“It was great.” Lauren says, she mindlessly sits next to your bed. She’s rifling through her sling bag and hands you the few freebies she managed to snag while you were gone. You notice they are all of Mingyu, she’s so sweet.

“What happened? You look scared.” Staring into your best friend's eyes you can tell she’s hiding something.

“I think we just got cussed out in another language.” Hanna informs you, taking place next to her sister.

“What do you mean?” You laugh.

“Well, we had to sign those NDAs and they asked us if we had told anyone,” Hannah begins, “Well we told Madison, we told them they would need to get into contact with her. Then Mr. Sang, or whatever his name was, started yelling at us. The lady was nice when she translated but I know she was leaving out a few curse words.” Lauren huffs crossing her arms.

“I was so mad.” She mumbles.

“You told Madison?” Marie criticizes. Madison was the twins cousin, she was supposed to be on this trip with you guys. Work called her at the last minute and now she was probably kicking herself for missing this spectacle.

“We weren’t thinking okay, she called us when we got to our seats and she could tell we were acting weird.” Hannah looks sheepish.

“We made sure to text her what was going on, we weren’t stupid about it . Madison isn’t going to tell anyone.” You groan. Lauren notices your annoyance and pulls out her phone to distract you.

“I recorded the concert for you.” Lauren hands you her phone and you thank her. A twinge of sadness passes as you open up the videos of all of the boys.

The four of you spend the next hour discussing the concert and the implications of you being Mingyu's soulmate. Your friends were nothing but supportive. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad, the twins have been in your life ever since fourth grade. Long ago the three of you had come to the conclusion that you must have been in each other's past lives. They were certainly your found family in this life. Now you were expected to just up and leave them. The thought makes you depressed.

Before you mope around too much, your phone buzzes in your concert bag. Marie notices and hands you the bag. Once you unlock your phone you saw a few text messages from your sister asking how the concert was, and a few from an unknown number

#mingyu x y/n #mingyu x reader

51 notes · View notes

blog-name-idk · 2 years

Text

Everything Falls (Into Place) | 17

*Banner by the incredible @bangtansmauyeondan

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 2766

~~~~~

Namjoon Guys, I have a problem

Jin What did you break this time? You've already burned through your security deposit

Yoongi maybe he got an A- on his last assignment

Namjoon Please guys, I'm serious I don't know what to do

Taehyung Hyung, what's wrong?

Namjoon I think I'm in love

Jimin !!!!!!!

Hobi !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yoongi about time your balls dropped

Jin Ah, to be young again…

Namjoon Hyung, you're only 2 years older than me Also, please guys It'll never happen I'm doomed I have no idea how to proceed

Hobi What are you talking about?? How could anyone turn down that face?

Jimin Yeah, hyung! You're a total catch!

Jin Yeah Joon, you're almost as beautiful as me, don't sell yourself short

Namjoon Thanks guys… But really, I'm not fishing for compliments I just want to know how I can get over someone who is literally perfect

Jungkook Hyung if she's not willing to give you a chance then she's prob not worth your time You deserve someone who can see how amazing you are

Jimin OMG Kookie!!! Yes!

Jin From the mouths of babes…

Namjoon Well, she doesn't actually KNOW I like her

Yoongi dude

Taehyung Aw, it's cute that you're being so shy!

Namjoon No, like I CAN'T like her She can't find out

Jin ?

Jungkook Oh goddammit

Taehyung ??

Hobi ???

Jimin ????

Jungkook It's [y/n], isn't it

Namjoon … Yes

Yoongi join the fucking club

Jin Wait what

Yoongi what

Jimin Kookie, how did you know??

Jungkook Are you guys idiots It's obvious we're all in love with her

Taehyung Shit, it is?

Hobi OMG I thought I was the only one! Wait, should I be happy or sad?

Jin Wow kids Your first female roommate and you all have the hots for her?

Jimin I mean, do you not?

Jin Nevermind

Namjoon Fuck Jackson is going to murder all of us House meeting tonight [Y/n]'s having a girls night with Mina

Jimin Wait how do you know that?

Yoongi probably because unlike some people he actually asks about her day instead of staring at her tits

Jimin RUDE

Jungkook Lmao rekt

Taehyung To be fair, they're pretty nice

Hobi Do you guys think she knows?

Jungkook Doubt it She's the only one more oblivious than you morons

Hobi LOL

Jin Don't talk about my wife that way!

Jungkook changed the group name to Boys in Luv

Namjoon Why did God put me on this earth just to suffer

~~~~~

"Why are we getting ready here again when your place is closer to the club?" you complained as Mina fussed with her hair in the mirror. Both of your last exams had been today, and you had already either finished or turned in all of your final projects. The two of you were long overdue for some irresponsible fun.

"Because you have double sinks," she said as if it was the most obvious response in the world. Well, actually it kind of was. "Which is so unfair by the way."

"I mean one of them is Hobi's," you hedged, though you were secretly incredibly smug at your good fortune. Not only did you basically have an ensuite bathroom, the boy you shared it with was tidy and respectful. Besides the shower debacle, there had been zero issues sharing.

"Yeah but he keeps it so clean," she whined, and you grinned.

"I know, it's great."

"Man, he's gorgeous, sweet, funny, clean, AND has a huge - "

"MINA!" you screeched, hoping your friend wasn't in his room. He was actually in the living room with the other boys waiting for the two of you to leave, but you had no way of knowing that.

"Heart," she finished with a smirk. "What? What did you think I was going to say?"

"Why do I love you?" you asked with a groan, making sure your mascara had dried without smudging.

"Because I'm amazing, and still your best friend despite the fact that you've been ditching me for your hot harem for the past semester."

You winced, knowing she was right. It hadn't been on purpose - it was just easier to study and make plans with people you literally saw every day. Tonight was in fact one of the ways you were making it up to her. You didn't actually hate clubbing - every once in a while you were in the mood to dance - but you usually preferred house parties or smaller groups where you could relax and not worry too much about things like getting roofied or bending over and flashing your ass at everyone.

Today however, you submitted yourself to Mina's whims. So you put on your finest hooker heels and shoved yourself into a tight dress that made you feel like an overstuffed sausage. You knew you actually looked amazing, even if you felt like you were one wardrobe malfunction away from getting written up for indecent exposure. Your eyes were smokey and alluring, and your hair had been painstakingly styled to look effortlessly breezy.

"I know, I know. I'm the worst. Tonight I will partially make it up to you by dancing my heart out and hip bumping any gross randos away from your beautiful butt," you promised, taking a swig of your whiskey and ginger beer. You'd need a healthy buzz going before you started believing you had good dance moves, and you weren't about to rely on overpriced, watered-down bar drinks.

"You better," your best friend responded with a wink. "I called an Uber, I think we're about as hot as we're going to get."

"Which is incredibly hot," you finished for her. You clinked your glasses together, downed your drinks, then went downstairs to await your night's chariot.

~~~~~

Mina grinned in anticipation as the two of you headed down the stairs. She could not wait to see the reaction of your housemates. Would it be obvious if she pulled out her phone to take a picture?

"You two heading out?" Jin asked when they reached the bottom, turning to look at the two of you with a smile. His face froze when he got a good look at you, and Mina internally snorted. And you thought he wasn't whipped for you? For someone so brilliant you could be so endearly stupid sometimes.

The other boys turned as well, and if she had lower self-esteem she might have been a little miffed that they only had eyes for you. Luckily for everyone involved, she had a great therapist.

It was hard to contain her amusement at the various ranges of emotional constipation on display. Namjoon was staring, a forgotten book dangling from his hands. Handsome Jin had recovered somewhat and rearranged his expression, but his ears were bright red. Hobi's eyes darted from your face, to your bare feet, and then back up to your face as if he wasn't sure where it was safe to set his eyes. The grumpy one, Yoongi, was actually licking his lips.

The youngest had the most hilarious (and adorable) reactions, though. The three had turned to look at you at the same time, and their eyes bugged and jaws dropped in perfect unison. Jungkook's eyes, already naturally large, had widened into saucers. She could really see what you meant when you said he was a mixture of cute woodland creatures. Taehyung's eyes held a deep longing that actually made Mina feel a little bad for the guy. You loved reading - how did you not see the emotions written so plainly on his face?

The deafening silence was finally broken by pretty Jimin, whose face was dusted a pretty pink.

"Y-you two look great," he squeaked, chewing on his lip as if trying to prevent other words from spilling out.

"Thanks Chim!" you said cheerfully, and Mina almost rolled her eyes at the way your smile made him melt into the couch.

"Bye guys! Have a good night! Don't wait up!" You called as you headed to the front door with your heels in hand, apparently oblivious to the tangible yearning in the air. God, you were more clueless than an anime protagonist. Mina, however, was not. She smirked and waggled her fingers at the stunned group.

"Bye boys. I'll do my best to keep her in line, but no promises," she teased with a wink, enjoying the different degrees of jealousy flashing across their faces. So she wanted to stir the pot a little. Sue her. They were all good guys. Things might get weird or embarrassing or messy for a while, but you were all adults enough to resolve things in a healthy way. Life was all about change, and one of them (or more, she wasn't going to judge), might be the one to help you grow into living for yourself as much as you did for others.

Or maybe it would all end in disaster. It was certainly a possibility - nothing was absolute, after all - but she had a feeling things would end up just fine. And if they didn't, well, she would be there to help you back up when you fell. Just like you always did for her.

Shaking the alcohol-induced sappiness out of her mind, Mina followed you to the door and sat next to you to put on her shoes. It was time to forget about schoolwork and boys and problems and get jiggy with her best friend.

~~~~~

As soon as the front door closed behind you and Mina, the group in the living room let out a collective exhale.

"I kind of feel like going out tonight, actually," said Jungkook casually, starting to rise from the couch.

"Me too," chirped Jimin, moving to follow.

"Sit. Down."

At Namjoon's authoritative command, the two troublemakers immediately dropped back into their seats, looking chastened. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts and trying to scrub the image of you looking like sex personified out of his brain. Well, not scrub it completely - more like cache it for later perusal.

"Okay," he began, looking at his friends - his brothers. "Okay."

Despite the topic having consumed his thoughts since that disastrous group text, he still wasn't quite sure how to start. So he stood there like a lump, letting the silence grow to suffocating levels.

"We all like [y/n]. We don't know how she feels about us. Also we all love each other so we have to figure out how to deal without letting this get between us."

Everyone stared at Jungkook, who shrugged. Despite being the youngest, he often surprised them by showing his deeper, more mature side. It was easy to forget that he was actually quite astute and intelligent when he was rage quitting a video game or pouting for attention.

"That's… a pretty accurate overview of the situation," Namjoon agreed lamely. "So… We should talk about possible outcomes and how to handle them, maybe set some ground rules."

"That makes sense," Hobi agreed, though he looked uncomfortable. Well, most of them did. They had all been through a lot together, but this was an awkward, unprecedented situation.

"Before we continue, I need a drink," Jimin announced, bouncing up to head to the kitchen. "This is too much to think about sober."

In the end, everyone ended up joining him to get a glass or bottle of something. The dancer was right, a little social lubricant would make this entire situation easier to deal with.

"Alright, so let's discuss the possible outcomes," announced Namjoon when everyone had settled. He had taken the opportunity to grab the small whiteboard and easel from his room and set it up in the corner despite the teasing from his friends.

"One: She chooses me," said Jin immediately, snickering at the glares from the other boys. Namjoon rolled his eyes while uncapping his marker. The brainstorm went more smoothly after that, and by the end of a discussion filled with jibs, pouts, and giggles, they had settled on a final list.

1. She chooses one of us. 2. She chooses some of us. 3. She chooses none of us.

"Anything we're not thinking of?" asked the leader, looking around the room. Taehyung raised his hand.

"What if she liked all of us?"

Everyone stared, and Namjoon sighed. He couldn't say the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but it just seemed so unlikely. Still, it was a possibility, however remote it might be, so he added it to the board.

4. She chooses all of us.

With the options laid bare, the floor was now open for discussion. Unfortunately it seemed no one knew where to begin, until Hobi bravely made the first comment.

"Well… as long as she's happy I guess I can accept any outcome," he said bashfully. "I mean, I guess it would kind of hurt to see her with someone else, but I'd like to think I could eventually get over it."

"I'd rather see her with you guys than anyone else," Taehyung added with a nod, blushing. "At least then I'd know she was being treated well."

"Speaking of which, what are we going to do about Dongmin?" Jimin asked suddenly, looking pointedly at the older dancer. "He's sniffing around [y/n] and she's way too good for him!"

Namjoon sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. As much as he didn't like the idea of you with someone he didn't know, it definitely wasn't right to interfere in your life to that extent.

"[Y/n] is an adult and her own person," he said sternly. "If she decides to date someone else, we have to respect that." Jimin pouted and gave a sulky nod.

"So… what happens if she likes more than one of us?" asked Yoongi, speaking up for the first time that night.

"I mean, I was in an open relationship once, but it didn't really work out," Taehyung offered, frowning in thought. "I think it was more because of poor communication than the situation itself, though."

"I've only been in monogamous relationships," Jin mused. "I'll have to think about it."

The boys were all nodding thoughtfully, and Namjoon was pleasantly taken aback that no one looked offended or scandalized. Then again, perhaps it wasn't that surprising - the reason they all got along so well was that while their differences complimented each other, they were generally on the same fundamental wavelength. Huh, maybe this would be less complicated than he thought. Though these were all hypotheticals - there was no guarantee that you wouldn't eventually just fuck off and ride off into the sunset with this Dongmin guy.

And then Jungkook had to go and make it awkward.

"So, what about like threesomes or - "

"OKAY! Remember, these are theoretical situations, and if they come to pass, this would be something to discuss with [y/n] present!" Namjoon interjected in a strangled voice.

As if the exchange had broken the ice, everyone started laughing and the air in the room lightened visibly. The guys began falling into their usual interactions as they grew more comfortable, and eventually the conversation devolved into what almost felt like a [y/n] fanclub. Finally, Namjoon called an end to the meeting, feeling satisfied. He headed back to his room then sent the house group chat (minus you) a text with the final "rules" before erasing the whiteboard.

Namjoon Just sending this out for reference

1. No matter what, [y/n] is our friend and we will be supportive no matter what happens (even if it sucks at first) 2. We each decide for ourselves if we want to pursue this or not 3. Don't out anyone else 4. Jealousy happens, but try not to be an asshole 5. Communication and consent are the golden rules - if we get angry or upset about something someone else has done, we will discuss it like adults

Anyway, good talk everyone This is uncharted territory, so I'm sure things will be harder than we're thinking but I hope that we can all be open and honest about this stuff with each other Remember, we're all a team It'll always be us against a problem, not each other I love you guys

Yoongi you forgot one 6. no glove no love but i love you guys too I guess

Jimin Awww, hyung I'm gonna cry! Love you <3

Jin You kids make an old man sentimental

Taehyung You guys are the best :)

Hobi Love all of you!!!

Jungkook Love you guys

Taehyung Oh, the semester ending means that Jackson-hyung will be back soon, right? Should we invite him over for dinner some time?

Namjoon Oh fuck

~~~~~

Next | Masterlist

Tags: @singukieee @persphonesorchid @xmochiloverx @taestefully-in-luv @meavie @silscintilla @forpunishers @jnghs

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts ot7 x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #park jimin x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jung hoseok x reader

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just-mya-writing · 1 year

Text

SP Boys Playing...

Mario kart

Don't ask me what time it currently is

Final exams were coming up

And you and your friends weren't prepared whatsoever

Except Kyle

Cartman: "fuckin Kyle"

So, since Kyle is such a sweetheart, he decided to help all of you study

The group all went over to his house for like, a study group date or whatever

Stan brought note cards

You found and brought some dried out highlighters

Kenny brought a rat

Cartman brought mario kart

"goddammit cartman"

Not only did he bring a game to the group study date

He brought

The fucking

Mario Kart 64

Yeah, fuck mario kart super deluxe ultra 360 number 4 no cheese extra sauce

It's all about them blocky graphics baybeee!

Kyle does have a nintendo 64

He got it for Ike but the kid took one look at it and decided he'd rather play with his Xbox whatever

But he's only got, like, donkey kong, super mario, that game where you talk to pikachu, and some water ski game

So in walks Cartman with a lil strut and two controllers along with Mario kart

"Absolutely not," Kyle immediately says

"But Kaaaaaahlllllll" he groans, pleading with the taller boy

Kyle stands firm

"We're all here to study, no distractions"

"C'mon Kyle" you started, getting up from place on the couch and completely abandoning your tic tac toe game with Stan

"Just let him set it all up while we study, we could play a little bit when we take breaks?"

"Breaks are super important when studying," Stan agreed, walking up behind you and placing a hand on your shoulder

"Yeah!" Kenny chirped, already on the floor setting the system up

It was four against one and Kyle didn't stand a chance against all of you

He agreed that you'd all play during the 30 minute breaks between study sessions

Rejoice

Unfortunately for Kyle, it took all but five minutes before you started to mentally check out

He was telling you something about writing down what you know and then highlighting what you don't remember

Or was it reading your work and re-writing?

What were you supposed to highlight again?

Kyle noticed your eyes glossing over as you stopped paying attention

Kenny was already disassociating

Kyle decided it was time to take a break

Since there were only four controllers, one of you was going to have to sit out and take the controller from whoever loses

Rock paper scissors to decide who sits out first round

Cartman loses

Ha-ha

Demands a second third forth chance

Maybe he'd win if he didn't main rock

Grumbles about how he's "the one who brought the damn game" and should be playing while you're all picking your characters

Kyle picks Luigi

Kenny picks Princess Peach

You pick Toad

Stan was torn on who to choose

Eventually picks Donkey Kong just because everyone keeps on making "monke" jokes

"Hehe...mm, monke"

"He's a fucking gorilla"

"Monke..."

Cartman is pissed no one chose Wario

Who cares, y'all can finally play

bad idea

Bad Idea

It was a very bad idea to play Mario Kart with your friends

You really should've known it was a bad start when Stan, player numbero uno, decided to ignore your opinions and pick the special cup

Aka the one with rainbow road, which is totally fun. Super fun. Everyone loves rainbow road.

It's. Fine.

But D.K.'s Jungle is first

Stan swears that since this course is named after his character he's pretty much guaranteed to win

The game starts and...

You stare in immense disappointment as your toad stays in place since you started too early

Kenny smashes into you to add insult to injury

You're in dead last

Stan and Kyle fight each other for first while Kenny sits comfortably in forth after missing one of the mystery items boxes

You collect one for yourself, hoping for a bullet to bring you towards the boys

You get green shells

It's fine.

Your toad speeds by, trying to catch up as Kyle hits Stan with a red shell

"Oh fuck off Kyle"

"How's that guaranteed win going for you, huh?"

Kenny, meanwhile, practically gets pushed off course by the bowser character and is being hit by coconuts

You get 3 bananas to try and get yourself out from 7th place

Cartman is the most backseat gamer to ever backseat game

"Keep your bananas dumbass! It's basically a shield for shells!"

Wario passes from behind you with a star, putting you back in 8th place

"Gee Eric, I'm so glad I've got my banana shield"

"Not my fault you're the slowest fucking Toad I've ever seen"

"Fuck. Kyle, do you just have a never-ending supply of shells up your ass?"

Kenny laughs as Stan falls into the water

The second he is brought to dry land, Kenny uses his thunder bolt

Both of you laugh as Kenny then proceeds to run him and Yoshi over

"Fuck you, Kenny"

You finally climb to 6th place as Kyle flies against the finish line

Groaning as you grab a single mushroom, you get yourself there eventually as well

Your scowl looks like a smile compared to the look Stan is giving Kenny

"I was going to win! I totally had it till your lightning"

Kenny's laughing

"Yeah right, no way you were gonna past Kyle after going for a swim" Kenny smirked

"Hey, maybe your monkey will do better in yoshi valley" Kyle teased, bumping Stan's shoulder as the next round started up

"Ahem...ahem"

Cartman pokes your arm

"Wot"

"I believe the loser gives up their controller...and you ate ass the whole game"

You protectively gripped the controller

"Wait, no gimmie another chance"

Cartman screeches

You ignore him

The next round starts up and this time you don't screw up and actually get the speed boost

You get yourself up to forth place, just behind your friends as you all get an item

Gaining three mushrooms, you immediately use them to get up to second place just to get attacked by a barage of shells by the two behind you

"Oh come. On you guys!" You complain, watching toad helplessly tumble around

"No mercy!" the princess Kenny exclaims, running you over

"Stop doing that!" You glare at Kenny

"Stop being so cute" he counters

You mumble under your breath, trying to focus on getting an item

You get a blue shell

Biting your lip to hide your excitement, you wait for the perfect opportunity to use it, watching the boys and yoshi battling for first place

"Psst," Cartman leans forward, whispering in your ear as you lean back, both of you refusing to look away from the game

"Why aren't you using your shell?" He uncharacteristically asked softly

"I'm waiting for the perfect moment" you whispered back, ignoring Stan and Kyle bickering as they keep pushing each other off the track

"Hmm...got it...I'll let you know when the best opportunity is" Cartman concluded, leaning back

You look away from the TV to stare at him, raising an eyebrow

He met your eye, whispering a 'trust me' you're almost unsure if you actually heard

You could laugh

Still, you still didn't use it as the final lap was coming to an end

5th place was nice...

The finish line nearly in sight, Kyle inched by Stan, his star he used dying down

You felt Cartman pat your arm

"Now."

Without hesitating, you used the blue shell

The deadly shell automatically targeted Kyle, looming over him

"Dude! Which one of you used a blue shell?"

Kyle tried to avoid it by breaking, but it was too late

Him and Stan both got demolished by the blue shell

You try to contain your laughter as both boys begin making an uproar, watching yoshi take first place and cross the finish line the

Kenny, the one who adores making you suffer, finally decides to leave you alone and uses his hoard of red shells to bombard Stan and Kyle

Donkey Kong and Luigi are still tumbling around as you pass them, gaining you a respectable third place, Kenny already cheering over his second place win

Cartman, meanwhile, was on the floor laughing as the two losing boys voiced their concerns

"You fucking bastards!"

"I was this close, this close to winning"

Their verbal insults just made you even more proud

"Sorry dude, alls fair in love and war," you shrugged, laughing as one of them chucked a balled up paper at your chest

The combined laughter and angry screeching completely covered the sound of the alarm Kyle had set to signify that the break was over

Who cares

Kyle the loser begrudgingly gave his controller to the still laughing Cartman

The study session has completely turned into a gaming one

But no one really cared, even as verbal insults and jokes were constantly being made

Everyone was having fun. It was such an enjoyable experience that no matter what happened in the game you all managed to let it motivate you to do better and laugh harder. You couldn't remember a better

Wait

Fuck

Cartman just hit you with a green shell

And you fell off the damn boardwalk

Kenny ran you over

Now Stan is laughing

You hate Mario Kart

#south park #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #stan marsh #kyle broflovski

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writer-rider-flirty-thirties · 11 months

Note

I was gonna say Feluka lmao, but Klimax with 11?

Lolol, you're so funny 😂. Here you go:

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

“Don’t you dare throw that snowball.” Max warned in his most authoritative voice. “I am not here to get wet.”

“But Maaaax!” Kim whined, tossing his perfectly formed snowball in the air to keep his hands from getting too cold. “That’s why we’re out here! To get wet, have fun, and play in the snow! Let me nail you, just once!”

Alix, who was in the middle of building a snowman with Juleka and Rose snickered. “Phrasing, dude. No one besides me should be able to see you nailing Max.”

Kim rolled his eyes. “You’re such a perv, Shorty. Everyone got what I meant.”

“I don’t know.” Luka said from his place on the porch. “It sounded pretty NSFW from where I am. Right, Fe?”

The blonde cuddled beneath the musician’s arms nodded. “I do believe so.”

Kim’s face squished in indignation. “You guys-”

“Don’t tease him!” Rose spoke up as she helped Juleka place the torso on the snowman. “He’s just trying to get Max to loosen up for a bit and play with us… speaking of which: Felix! Luka! Come play too! We’re only here at the resort for another day and you haven’t joined us once!”

“That’s because I agree with Max. I’m here to relax, not get wet.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Felix tensed at the undercurrent of his boyfriend’s sister’s girlfriend’s tone. When Rose started sounding sneaky, that could only mean one thing… “Don’t even think about it, Rose.”

Rose pouted innocently even as she dropped down to grab a handful of snow. “Think about what, FeFe?”

“Throwing that glob of mush in your hand.” When all Rose did was smile, he sat up and gave her what he thought was an intimidating stare. “Don’t you dare throw that snowba- goddammit!” He cursed as the cold ball scored a direct hit against his mouth and cheek. “Juleka?!”

The goth smirked, another snowball already formed in her gloved hands. “You told Rose not to think about it. Not me.”

“She’s right, Babe.” Luka laughed. Felix turned to glare at him before chuckling as Luka was then nailed in the face with a snowball as well. Wiping his face clear of ice, Luka gaped at his twin. “Jules? Why me?”

His twin shrugged. “You two are a pair so I had to get you both.”

Luka’s eyes narrowed. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“It means - shit!” He shouted as another ball of snow hit him. This time, it was accompanied by the bell-like laugh of Rose. “That’s it. War on.” As he stood from the bench, both women ran off deeper into the yard. Turning, he offered a hand to Felix. “Are you going to help me exact our revenge?”

Felix contemplated it before sneaking a glance at the man still on his laptop. “I’ll join… if Max joins as well.”

The man in question jumped at his name. “Me? Why must I join?”

“Because if I have to get involved in this child’s play, so do you.”

Max looked from his laptop to Felix and back before sighing and closing his laptop.. “I suppose. Markov, if you would?”

The robot whirled over and used his hook to grab the laptop. “Have fun, Max! I’ll be watching the match closely to see what methods work and which sized ball of snow works the best so that you may win this war.”

“Thank you.”

Pushing up, Max immediately knelt down and scooped up a handful of snow. Looking between his lovers and the couple descending from the porch, he lifted an immaculate eyebrow. “Who would like to receive my first throw of the evening?”

No one was surprised that it was Kim who was honored with Max’s first snowball.

What a vacation!

#Bre's Drabbles #Klimax #Feluka #prompt list #snowball #quick write #playful #Sonata you're awesome #Just for you 💜#ask me!#miraculous ladybug #le chien kim #max kante #alix kubdel #luka couffaine #felix graham de vanily #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant #julerose

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oliverreedmasterass · 1 year

Text

The One Where They Play Monopoly

It was an HONOR to collaborate with the @jmkho on this crackfic!! I love our little unhinged corner of the internet

Summary: On a slow day, GVF decides to play a friendly game of Monopoly that winds up being anything but that

Words: 1500

warnings: drugs, language, just really poor sportsmanship

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

It was a slow day in Nashville, Tennessee, and the guys all found themselves agreeing that they had nothing better to do than engage in a friendly game of Monopoly.

“Nothing better than a little competitive capitalism,” Jake chuckled as he took a seat on the carpeted floor, resting his elbows up on Danny’s coffee table. Danny joined them with the game box that he had stolen from his parent’s house and set it in the center of the table. Sam lurched forward, nearly knocking his drink over, and curled his fingers around the box, a crazed look in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Danny raised his voice in shock.

"I should get the dog!" Sam yelled as he vigorously shook the box open.

Jake pulled a face. "Why?

Sam whipped his head around to look at him, "Because I have a dog." As if that made him the automatic player of the dog piece. He wouldn't budge either so he got it. Josh wound up with the wheelbarrow and Danny got the car.

All that was left was the thimble.

Jake held it between his fingers with a confused look. "Wasn’t there a ship or a shoe or something? Why do I get the boring one?"

Sam started laying out the board on the table. "I lost the others."

Danny gave Sam a quizzical look since it was his board game, but he decided to shrug it off. It was probably for the best that he didn’t pry Sam for answers, because Sam would have had to fess up that he had actually swallowed down the other playing pieces during a playdate with Danny 15 years earlier. The ship and shoe belonged to the ocean now.

As they got settled, Danny cleared his throat and reminded them all, "It's just a game. No fighting, no arguing, and no flipping the board, got it?" They all agreed.

GODDAMMIT!" Sam grit his teeth twenty minutes later as he gripped the edge of the board and tried with all his strength to flip the damn thing.

Everyone else slapped their hands down to keep the board flat, their faces void of emotion as it was his twelfth attempt to knock the board to the floor.

Everything was going to shit for Sam: he was bankrupt, he'd been to jail a lot (but not as much as Josh who was practically living there), and Danny had snagged the Boardwalk before he could.

All in all, Sam had enough.

"Will you stop that?" Josh asked his younger brother after threw himself back on the couch in frustration. "It's just a game." Met by Sam’s silence, Josh's hands went from keeping the board flat to counting the fake money in his grip. All $8 dollars of it.

"You're in jail AGAIN. You should be pissed off too." Sam folded his arms, leaning back in his chair.

Josh shrugged. "Meh, I don't care." He was weirdly eyeing the paper money in his hand, as if an idea had just struck him.

Sam scoffed. No one understood how devastating it was for him to be losing Monopoly by so much. He was over the entire game, even if he had been the one to suggest that they play it in the first place. He really regretted exclaiming, “It would be fun!” earlier. What they were doing was anything but fun.

In comparison to Sam’s tantrum and Josh’s long-term stay in jail, Danny and Jake were heavily invested in the game. Their eyes were glued to the board so no distractions from Sam could interfere with their game, taking turns rolling the dice and strategically making investments and planting houses. For anyone who understood and respected the game of Monopoly, they were playing a really tight game. It was invigorating.

“Sam, your turn,” Jake said, not breaking eye contact with the board. Because Sam believed in second chances, he decided to grab the dice and give them his best roll.

“Hm, a community card,” he announced, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Maybe I’ll get to go past go and collect $200?” He flipped the card over from the deck and, in a microsecond his face fell from an eager grin to an all-out scowl. “NAH AH!” he hollered, jumping back to his feet and latching onto the board. As if it was routine at that point, Danny, Jake, and Josh all rested their elbows on the board so it wasn’t going anywhere. Sam grumbled something to himself while staring daggers at the board. “I’m getting some fresh air,” he said louder, stomping out of the room.

“Your turn,” Jake told Danny, not reacting to anything that had just happened.

Josh looked between his twin and Danny and noted that they were in the zone. Taking advantage of that, he reached over Jake’s arms and snagged a handful of Monopoly money from the bank that he was guarding.

“I’m gonna get some air too,” Josh quickly excused himself.

“They don’t understand that Monopoly is all about the long game,” Danny commented once Josh left the room.

“They wouldn’t last a day on Wall Street,” Jake agreed.

Outside, Josh plopped on the front door step and retrieved the wad of Monopoly money that he had stolen. In his other pocket, he grabbed his Zippo lighter and a bag of grass.

“The pink bill must be strawberry flavored,” he said to himself as he laid out a $5 bill on the step and sprinkled some weed over the Monopoly man’s face. Humming a little tune, Josh rolled himself a hefty joint and licked it together. As he sparked the lighter and put it up to the paper, Sam stopped punching the tree he had been taking his anger out on and joined his brother.

“So you’re a sore loser too?” he asked. Josh took a drag from his Monopoly joint and gazed at his younger brother with a soft smile.

“I may have lost the game,” he declared, “but did I lose at life?”

Sam’s eyes tracked to his joint and a smile crept across his lips.

“Genius,” he muttered. “You’re a genius.”

“I’m not tasting the strawberry yet,” Josh frowned down at the pink paper. “Maybe the blueberry one is more potent.”

Suddenly the front door swung open and Jake came stomping out, carting the board behind him, pieces still clamoring to the floor. Josh and Sam hopped out of the way in shock when they saw that Jake was also wielding a sword and wearing his Oliver Reed sunglasses. Those were two clear signs that Jake was a force not to be reckoned with.

“YARRRR!” Jake roared from Danny’s front lawn as he chucked the Monopoly board on the ground and then, as if he was slaying a dragon, jammed the sword through the center of it. “I CAN’T BE BANKRUPT! I AM THE BANK!”

Danny came hustling out after Jake but stopped himself when he saw the sword.

“My Monopoly game,” he whispered in despair. “My mom got me that.”

“YOU FOWL DISGRACE OF A GAME!” Jake continued to holler as he stabbed the piece of cardboard, “YAH! YAH! YAH!”

Josh took another hit as he watched his brother unleash all of his demons on Danny’s board game and then turned around to face their drummer.

“I take it you won?” he asked.

“He owed me a lot of interest,” Danny explained. In the background Sam decided to be bold and approach Jake’s side, crossing his arms and watching his work.

“YOU SORE LOSER,” Sam started to scold Jake. “YOU COULDN’T HANDLE LOSING AND NOW YOU’RE DOING THIS.”

Jake took a break from the board game and spun around to face Sam with the sword. Sam took one look at the gleaming weapon and then took off down the street screaming.

“Want some?” Josh offered the joint up to Danny. Danny stared and looked to be on the brink of accepting it when Jake started whirling his sword over his head like a helicopter blade while screaming out expletives.

Danny let out an expletive of his own and rushed to retrieve his phone from his pocket so he could speed dial 9-1-1 for when Jake was bound to hurt someone. “No thanks,” he told Josh.

“More blueberry for me,” Josh shrugged. Danny did a double take and then let his shoulders slump when he realized that most of his Monopoly money was in Josh’s possession and, consequently, was bound to be burned up in the next few hours.

“Hey,” Jake ran up to Josh and Danny, still holding the sword, which made them both jump in fear. “Can one of you hold the board up like a target? I want to see if I can throw my sword through it.”

Danny did what had to be done and gasped, pointing off into the distance.

“Is that Jack Sparrow?”

Jake did what he always did and, with his face bright in anticipation, he whirled around to see where Danny was pointing. Danny took the opportunity to grab the sword from him and swiftly chuck it into a bush when he wasn’t looking.

“I don’t see him,” Jake pouted as he turned around. “Hey, where did my sword go?”

“That’s weird,” Danny lied. “I’m not sure.”

“Huh,” Jake looked confused. He scanned Danny’s front yard and then started to aimlessly wander the premises, looking for it.

“I don’t think we should play Monopoly again,” Danny told Josh.

“Does that mean I can take the rest of the money?” Josh looked delighted.

#great van fleet #gvf #greta van fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fanfic #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #oliver reed #collab fic #give jmkho all the love!!!

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