Fun idea: Druig LOVES eating pussy and gets messy as hell with it. He’ll eat her out through her panties and tease the fuck out of her, then he takes them off and literally eats her out until she’s crying from overstimulation before he fucks her
That’s my angel.
that man takes his time. end of discussion.
totally went off topic! my bad <3
druig x fem!reader
dom!druig (hard dom but he has his moments <3)
warnings: degradation & humiliation (i am mean it’s me so that’s a given at this point..but this one is particularly degradation heavy!), orgasm delay + overstimulation, spit kink, crying (in a good way!), dacryphilia, spanking, use of restraints, pet names (mainly angel, puppy is also used!), mind control 😵💫, uhhh boot riding? idk how to tag that, dumbification! might be forgetting something?? idk
reblogs are very much appreciated!! :D
sorry if this sucks 🤧 i’m feeling a little off? hopefully it’s okay!!
18+ MDNI!!!!!!! no minors. fuck off plz <3
Druig. Druig. Druig pay attention to me please. Hey Druig please-
You thought over and over and over again. Knowing that he was reading your mind. He always did when you were being a brat (or as he sometimes liked to call it ‘a pain in the ass’). So he could monitor you behavior without having to give you the attention you so desperately craved, but had yet to deserve.
You'd been begging to get fucked dumb the entire day. Distracting him while he's working, being a total brat, and constantly teasing him.
But he refused to give in. No matter how turned on he was or how badly he wanted to put you in your fucking place, he was going to make you wait for it.
He finished up his work and stretched before heading to the bedroom you both shared. You were sitting there waiting for him. Your feet tucked under you and your hands resting gracefully in your lap. Looking like gods blue print for a innocent, obedient, submissive, little angle.
You smiled sweetly at him and cocked your head to the side playfully. Flashing him your puppy dog eyes, as if daring him to treat you like anything other than a good girl.
He looked you up and down before nodding approvingly and walking over to the closet. You watched confusedly as he simply went about business as though everything was normal.
He discarded his jacket, hanging it up before shutting the door and turning to face you again.
The look in his eyes was intense, almost angry.
He continued starring at you as he unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolled them up so the fabric bunched around his forearms. He undid a few buttons at the top of his chest, allowing him a bit more freedom. He relished in the sensation and stretched his neck. Letting out a groan of satisfaction.
The noises he was making mixed with the fact that you'd been turned on all day was driving you absolutely wild. You yearned to reach out, grab him, and kiss until the two of you had no choice to fall apart. To liter his neck with kisses and bite marks. You wanted to tug on his hair so he would make those wonderful little gasps that set your heart on fire.
You shifted from your spot, flipping your legs around so they dangled from the side of the bed, preparing yourself to stand and face him.
"I'm sorry who the fuck told you you were allowed to move?"
Druig snapped at you, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"W-what?" You stammered, extremely confused.
He rolled his eyes and scoffed. His harsh words and cruel behavior had you causing you to feel ashamed…and extremely turned on.
Tears threatening to fall and thighs rubbing together expectantly.
"God you really are stupid? Need me to spell it out for you baby?"
A grin beginning to tug at his upper lip. He began to undo his belt, and you waited patiently. Knowing that you were certainly about to be fucked until you forgot what language you were suppose to be speaking and the only words you could remember were "yes sir" and "Druig".
But instead on throwing his belt on the back of his desk chair like he always did. He folded it in half and stalked closer to you. His foot steps echoing loudly across the room. You hadn't realized how silent everything had been until the only things left to be heard was the rhythmic fall of Druig’s boots hitting the floor, the steady increase of your breath, and the whimpers that fell for your lips and flooded the air, filling him with excitement.
“You spent the entire day whoring yourself out. Acting like a brain dead slut, which you are by the way and I’m glad to see you’re embracing it, And now you want to pretend like you’re innocent? Angel, don’t you want to finish what you started?”
You stared at him, your eyes wide as you tried to gather your thoughts enough to muster a semi-decent reply.
He tilted his head mockingly, the look in his eyes was intense and his demeanor became darker.
“God, look at yourself. I have yet to lay a finger on you and you’re already ruined. You’re so fucking pathetic, I love it.”
Druig said, his voice had dropped a few octaves but it was clear it wasn’t a conscious decision. You just did that to him. You brought out parts of him he hadn’t even know existed.
His head was swimming with thoughts of you. His mind focused on one thing and one thing only, ruining you.
You’re brain felt fuzzy. All you could focus on was him. The sound of his voice, his intoxicating presence, you were drunk off him. Completely enamored, utterly in love with, and incredibly turned on.
All for Druig.
He made you dizzy with lust. You cocked your head to the side, mirroring him. Your current headspace leaving you slightly confused as to what he wanted you to do.
He laughed at this. He loved the way you always tried to please him, no matter what. Trying desperately to obey him even when you had no idea what he was asking for.
“Would you look at that? So obedient for me, aren’t you?”
He sighed happily as you nodded quickly, your eyes looked hazy and slightly tearful.
“You just don’t know what to do with yourself. Do you? Need me to do everything for ya huh puppy. Not a single thought in that dumb little brain of yours.”
You were itching to reach out and touch him. Images of you clinging onto him as you rut yourself against him. His thigh, his abs, his bicep, his boot- the image changed. But one thing remained the same in every frame.
You were desperate for him, and he was making you work for it.
You saw Druig’s smile and immediately realized he was reading your thoughts. Skimming through your memories as if they were the morning paper.
Well, At least now he knows what you want and he can give it to you! You thought.
“Oh puppy you really have learned nothing. You think I’m gonna go easy on you? Think I’m gonna give in and hand you everything you want on a silver platter?”
His laughter was almost cruel.
“Angel, I’m going to ruin you. Just like you’ve been begging me to. And when you get to that point where you’re crying and shaking and telling me it’s too much, I want you to remember that you’re the one who asked for this. So sit there, be good for me, and remember your fucking place.”
He walked toward you slowly as he said this. Sizing you up and playing mindlessly with the belt in his hands. Trying to decide if he should cuff you, spank you, or both.
A whimper escaped your lips as his eyes glowed gold and suddenly your minds-eye was filled with various scenarios of yourself and Druig.
You were tied to the bed, your wrists bound and fastened securely to the headboard. Held together with his belt, which was wrapped tightly enough to remind you of your place but not so much that it was painful. Besides your arms the rest of your body wasn’t confined in any way. Though you were naked and vulnerable especially, in the presence of Druig who was still fully clothed (minus his jack and belt).
He never liked to tie your legs down. Watching you squirm and twist around as he overstimulated you to the point of tears was one of his favorite parts. He liked knowing he could hold you down with nothing more than a few words and his own strength. No need for ropes or mind control.
However, he did like keeping your hands cuffed. It kept you from moving around too much, and reminded you that he was in charge. Plus you looked adorable crying and begging for him, knowing that you’d never be able to ‘escape’ on your own. And the feeling that accompanied observing the way you practically flew to him the second he released you was like no other.
The way you’d cling to him, whimpering and grasping onto any part of him that you could. Memorizing the feeling of his skin. Running your hands through his hair. Burying your face in the crook of his neck as you whimpered, your tears staining his shirt. As he held you and kissed every part of you until you laughed and pulled him up crashing your lips together. He could taste the salt of your tears and you could still taste yourself on his lips.
You gasped and blinked rapidly as you were thrown back into reality.
He was closer now, his eyes still shimmering slightly with gold.
You shifted nervously under his gaze. Your skin rubbing against the cold wood beneath you. Wait, wood? How did you need up here?
You were on the floor, looking rather disheveled and pathetic. Your eyes were filled with tears that had yet to fall, and your thighs were covered in your own arousal (which was now dripping onto the floor beneath you, an act that Druig would have a little too much fun with when discovered).
You stared up at him. Confused, and desperate.
He was leaning against a small wooden desk, standing directly across from you. His legs were crossed nonchalantly, the heel of his boots digging into the floor as he rested the majority of his body weight back upon the little table. He was twisting the belt in his hands knowingly. With a raised eyebrow and a smile that never wavered he looked you in the eye and said:
“You liked that didn’t you? You want it right now angel?”
Your face screwed up in confusion, there was no way in hell he was going to make it this easy. But still, he stayed calm. Eerily calm. He had yet to break eye contact.
“Well? Speak up puppy. Use your big girl words and ask for what you want. Or are you too stupid to remember manners?”
He scoffed and tilted his chin upwards slightly. He looked (and felt) like your superior, he was.
Well here goes nothing!
“I want you to-”
He sighed loudly, cutting you off.
“Wrong! I know I say this a lot but jesus, you really are just my little fuck toy. Nothing else. It’s all you’re good for really. Can’t even beg properly. You know what happens when you don’t listen to me angel. Wanna see another scenario? You might not like this one that much, but I’m gonna fucking love it. Ya never no though, you always have been my little whore.”
“No wait! Please just touch me, or…or fuck me! Please Druig! Sir I need you-”
“Bit too late for that, aye princess?”
“Dru-” But you were cut off.
His eyes flashed gold again and suddenly you were transported into to another scenario.
The smooth texture of the wooden desk felt cool and grounding against your face. The feeling of leather snapped against your skin, leaving marks in its wake. You were bent over his desk, the papers around you mixed together haphazardly and threatening to the slip off the side and on to the floor below you.
You gasped and whimpered as he spanked you with his belt. Hard enough to leave bruises. Pain so sweet it was pleasurable.
You could feel the stinging pain as he brought his hand down again. You could taste the salt of your tears that had run down your cheeks and onto your lips. You could hear his voice and the words it carried, a wonderful mixture of praise and humiliation.
Druig said as he brought the leather belt down one last time. Leaving you shaking with relief, though a twisted part of you still craved more.
He could sense this, your mind always was so easy for him to read. Especially when you were in this type of headspace. All floaty, without a thought in the world except him. Druig, your Druig. Your mind was practically inviting him to invade your subconscious.
Which was currently trying very hard to suppress the fact that you wanted more.
‘cute’ He thought to himself.
And brought his hand down one last time, though he did so quiet softly. Leaning over you, your body bent over the desk, he brought his face next to yours. And after gently brushing a strand of hair out of the way, whispered:
“You think so fucking loudly. I know what you want angel, I know you want more. But you’ve gotten enough of those for tonight pretty girl.”
Druig knew your limits, even the ones you tried to pretend didn’t apply to you. But he wasn’t done with you yet.
He pulled up up and twisted you around. You were sitting on the edge of his desk now, one of his legs slotted in between yours. He looked at you for a few moments, letting his gaze examine every inch of your skin. He smiled softly before kissing you passionately. You immediately deepened the kiss and after a few moment of calculated self control you threw caution to the wind and began grinding yourself against his thigh.
He pulled away and looked down at you. You were too far gone. Despite being disconnected from the kiss your hips continued to rut against his thigh. Chasing pleasure so close you could almost taste it. Tears fell down your cheeks and moans flooded the air. He cupped your face in his hand, stroking your cheek lovingly.
Then his eyes began to glow golden. And before you knew it you were pushed to the ground. Druig’s hand wrapped tightly around a portions of your hair as you stared up at him. Mouth opened wide obediently. You felt distantly aware of the fact that your hips had yet to stop moving despite not being on his thigh anymore. You were grinding against his boot, desperately praying for your orgasm to arrive soon.
You truly were a sight for sore eyes. Druig thought to himself as took you in.
Your eyes were blood shot, cheeks tear stained, lips red and swollen from bite marks and stolen kisses.
One hand was wrapped firmly around his thigh, grounding you as you rutted desperately against his boot. The other arm reached up, holding onto his hand tightly. A reminder that no matter how real the things he says i’m scenes like these sound, you’re always his beautiful perfect girl. And he wouldn’t trade you for anything in the entire universe.
Druig tugged your hair back, though his intense gaze was what caused you to halt your movements not the pain.
“I love you angel.” He whispered.
“I love you Druig.” You whispered back.
He stroked your cheek affectionately before moving his hand around and pushing his thumb past your lips. He raised an eyebrow expectantly and you opened your mouth wider.
He bent down and spit in your mouth. You swallowed it eagerly, causing him to smile widely.
“So which ones it gonna be puppy?”
He smiles at your answer.
Letting his serious façade slip slightly in the process. Looking at you with pure adoration.
He tilted his head down briefly and gave you a look that asked ‘are you okay? can we keep going?’.
You smiled and eagerly nodded. He winked at you and blew you a kiss. But just a soon as the glimpse of affection crossed his faces it disappeared in the blink of an eye.
He slipped effortlessly back into an intense expression. His eyes darkening as he re-adjusted himself into his former position. His change in demeanor immediately caused you to squirm, you could practically feel the dominance rolling off him. And you became hyper aware of the belt. An observation which Druig quickly picked up on.
He let out a cold laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. You watched as he extended his right hand (the one not currently holding the belt menacingly) and beckoned your forward.
It took you a moment to register. Which annoyed Druig slightly and he demonstrated this by snapping his fingers and pointing at the floor in front of him. Ordering you to come closer.
You quickly scrambled in an attempt to stand up and walk towards him. An action that was met with a scoff of disapproval. Before you knew it Druig’s eyes were flowing gold again and you felt yourself stumble and fall back to the floor. You mindlessly situated yourself into the position you’d been in previously.
You let out a whine of confusion and desperation. The tears that had been gathering steadily on your bottom lashes taking this an open invitation to fall down your cheeks. Leaving you crying and whimpering.
You just wanted to be good for him.
He laughed again, earnestly this time, when he saw how fucked out and pathetic you looked. He had yet to lay a finger on you and yet you were dripping for him.
“You wanna try that again?”
Your confusion must have been evident as he simply raised an eye brow and gestured to the space in front of him.
He smiled, when he saw the look on your face. A clear indication to the fact that you did indeed understand what he was talking about.
“Good to see there are still a few brain cells left in that dumb little head of yours.”
He sighed happily and tilted his head, mock-lovingly.
thanks for 900 followers!! welcome to the family <3
hopefully this is okay! i haven’t written in awhile because i am an idiot and decided to major in physics 🤕 sorry if it’s a lil rusty!
***It's almost nostalgic to go back to the original timeline again. The last time I wrote a fic concerning it was There and Back Again, the first Obey Me fic I ever wrote. I've always been curious about what happened to the original brothers/what they felt after MC never came back to them. Throw the commonly used headcanon of "The brothers can feel MC's pain through the pact" and well, this is that. I hope you enjoy it! This one is long and painful, so please remember to take care of yourself and practice self-care before, during, and after reading. Love you guys! Read safely***
SPOILERS FOR LESSON 16
Summary: As MC is sent to go back in time and find answers for Diavolo, the brothers are left to wait for their return. Time ticks by and the pact holders grow more anxious until things go dreadfully wrong.
CW: Heavy Angst, descriptions of pain, injuries, and suffocation/choking, character death, GRIEF, Scratching at arms (Mammon)
Mammon had nearly dug a hole in the ground with how much he was pacing.
His hands twitched by his sides, longing to do rip at his hair or at the very least do something. There was a constant, uneasy, buzzing that itched under his skin like a never-ending current of electricity was running through him and his hammering heart was the jacked-up battery it was powering.
A distant part of him could make out the sound of his brothers bickering to one another, complaining about their own stress relief habits and you, but his head was too muddled with worry to make it out.
You had been sent to the past, alone. He knew that you were strong and capable, but he also knew how reckless and downright stupid you could be at any given moment. You were always willing to take the risk and dive in without a second thought, so long as it was for the betterment of others. Mammon knew this better than anyone else, it's why he wanted, no, he needed to be there with you and watch your back.
Instead, here he was, grumbling to himself like a pathetic moron while you were off doing Diavolo knows what.
He groaned, glancing over at his brothers for a moment, taking note of how they were all staring at a blushing Levi with perplexed expressions when he felt it.
An invisible, constricting, force wrapped around his body with a frightening grip.
Mammon's breath hitched as the others froze. "Do... Do you guys feel that?" He winced as it grew tighter.
Asmo whined and nodded as he shivered and shook out his limbs. "Yeah, it's so not comfy. It feels all kinds of wrong."
All of them gasped as what felt like razor-sharp claws dug into their necks, and yet there wasn't a single mark or bruise on any of them.
"What," Levi wheezed as he scratched at his throat, trying to alleviate the force constricting around it. "What is going on?"
Satan hissed, feeling the claws sink deeper into his skin and slice at his nerves. "I-I don't know. But, ugh, but if it's affecting all of us, it has to be something we have in common. Think. Wh-What's something we all share?"
Mammon paled as it hit him. "Fuck. MC," the others turned to him, eyes wide as they all came to their own realizations. Mammon shook his head, taking steps back towards the manor as something wrapped tightly around his middle. "We all have a pact with MC. It's the-the pacts. This is happening to MC!"
Without another word, Mammon sprinted towards Barbato's room, his shoes slipping on the polished marbled floor as he turned corners.
He found himself tumbling to the ground, crying out as pain exploded in the centre of his spine. He trembled as he rose back to his feet, gritting his teeth and pushing himself to keep moving towards Barbatos, towards you, even as he felt his back snap in two.
He slammed the bedroom door open, the others following closely behind him as he glared at Barbatos, Lucifer and Diavolo. "Bring them back. Now."
The three demons blinked at the panting brothers in shock. "I'm sorry, that's not possible." Barbatos stated, eyeing them all with a critical gaze. "They have to complete their task-"
"It wasn't a fucking question!" Mammon shouted, baring his teeth at the butler as he switched into his demon form. "Bring them back, or I swear-"
"Mammon." Lucifer scolded as he stepped between Mammon and Barbatos. "Enough. Calm yourself. What in seven rings is wrong with you?"
Mammon never got to answer as the door slammed open once more, and a pale Beelzebub marched in. "We have to get MC! They're hurt!"
Diavolo tensed at the words as the severity of situation made itself known. "What do you mean? How do you know that?"
"We don't have time for questions," Satan spat as he came to stand beside Mammon. "Barbatos either let us go to them or bring them back. No-" he was cut off as his eyes bulged and he let out a strained noise.
Levi whimpered as his legs wobbled beneath him. "They can't breath," Leviathan choked as tears welled up in his eyes. "W-We can feel it in their pact. They- They're-"
"They're dying," Asmo gasped, a hand resting securely at the base of his neck. "Oh god, Lucifer please. Do something."
Mammon growled as he went to charge past his brother, "Fuck that, I'm doing something now."
Lucifer grunted as he caught his lunging brother, quickly transforming into his own demon form to counter his strength. "Mammon, nothing will be able to get down if you don't calm down and think clearly."
"Think clearly?!" He roared as he continued fighting against Lucifer. "How do you want me to think clearly when I can feel the only person that actually fucking cares about me being murdered and I can't do a single damn thing?! Let me go, Lucifer! I'm getting them back!"
Barbatos forced his expression to remain neutral as he stood in front of the stairway leading to your door. "We can't do that. It's bad enough that I sent MC back without any training or studying. If all of you went back, as emotionally riled up as you are, you would undoubtedly be seen by your other-selves and create a paradox."
Satan seethed as he glared at the butler, "Did you not hear the part where we said MC is dying?!"
Diavolo placed his hands out in a pacifying manner out towards everyone. "We need to calm down. We won't be any use to MC if we're all fighting like this."
Beelzebub let out an animalistic growl at the man as he shifted into his own demon form. "We're no use to them just standing around either! You have no idea what they're going through! They're-"
Beel didn't get to finish as all the pact holders in the room suddenly cried out, each one moving to grasp a different location on their body, a different mark that had previously been branded into their very souls. Each of them froze as they felt something break and whither inside of them.
No one moved. No one spoke. The five bonded demons waited to feel something. Even if it was the agonizing pain that had been burning through them moments ago, it was better than this emptiness.
But nothing came.
A shuttering gasp came from Asmodeus as a shaking hand covered his mouth. He silently shook his head while ugly, fat tears flowed over his cheeks, yet he made no movement to wipe them away. "No," he breathed. "No, no, no, no, no," a hand tangled carelessly in his locks. He found himself struggling to breathe as his eyes darted around the room looking for the non-existent trace of you.
Asmo giggled as you all but ran into his room and threw yourself onto his bed. "Why hello there to you too~" he teased as he took a seat beside your groaning body.
You pouted and turned your head to look up at the demon. "School is hard."
Asmodeus felt his heart warm, realizing that you had come to him for comfort in your time of need and placed your head into his lap while he ran his fingers through your hair. "I can't say I'd be too much help with academics. Usually, people go to Satan for these kinds of things."
You melted into his touch as he began to massage the top of your skull. "I don't want to study right now though. I'm too stressed. I just need to relax," you opened your eyes to give him a positively adorable puppy dog expression. "Can we please have a spa night? Just the two of us?"
Asmo laughed and leaned forward to rub his nose against yours in a butterfly kiss. "You don't have to beg, MC." He smiled lovingly at you as he pulled back and basked in the flustered expression on your face. "You know that I'm happy give you all of me if you just say the word~"
"Asmo!" You both burst into joyous laughter as you swatted him with a pillow. Asmodeus couldn't remember the last time his heart felt so full.
A sob slipped past his lips despite his best efforts as Asmodeus stumbled towards the closest wall.
Lucifer looked at his brothers's states in concerned panic. "What happened? What's wrong?" He tried to ask, but nobody was in any condition to answer.
Beelzebub roared and forced his way past a protesting Lucifer as he shoved Barbatos aside and ripped the door open, only to be faced with a solid wall. He broke the door off its hinges and threw it across the room, letting it smash in smithereens against the wall. "MC!" He screamed as he moved to the next door. "Open the door! Come back! Please! MC! Come back!"
Diavolo barely managed to duck out of the way as another door went soaring over his head. "Barbatos!" He shouted over to the fallen butler.
The teal-haired demon nodded and waved his hand. Magical chains rose up and wrapped themselves around the rampaging Avatar of Gluttony. Beel howled and thrashed against the chains, screaming and fighting as he blindly tried to get to you.
Beel stumbled into your doorway, his eyes frantically searching the darkness for you. He froze as he saw your still body laying in your bed.
He cautiously moved closer to you, eyes fixating on the consistent rise and fall of your chest. "MC?" he whispered.
You groaned and threw an arm over your forehead as you turned onto your back and glanced over at Beel. "Beel?" You yawned as you spoke. "Wh-What's going on? It's like," you peered over at your alarm clock and gaped as you saw the time. "Beel! It's 3 in the morning! Why are you waking me up?"
Even though you were yelling at him, Beel couldn't help but slump in relief at the sound of your voice. "I had a nightmare," he admitted. The annoyance instantly fell from your face as concern took its place. You sat up and patted the bed beside you for him to join you.
Beel wasted no time and took his place beside you, sighing in content as you snuggled into his side. He wrapped an arm around you held you close. "Normally they're about Lilith or Belphie, but this time it was you," he pressed his lips tightly together as his grip tightened on you. "Some of the students at RAD attacked you, and all I could do was watch. I wasn't able to move or reach you no matter how hard I tried. They...They killed you and there was nothing I could do about it."
You softly shushed him as you traced comforting circles into his hands. "It wasn't real, Beel," he looked down at you with wide eyes, adrenaline still coursing through him at the memory of the dream. You smiled softly at him and moved his hand to cup your cheek. "I'm okay. I'm safe. How could I not be? I have one of the best demons in all of the Devildom looking out for me."
Beel scooped you up in his arms and held you close as he buried his face in your neck. He felt your arms wrap securely around him as you mimicked the action. "I'm here, Beel," you whispered gently. "I'm right, here."
Beel bellowed as he curled into himself, eyes squeezing shut at the memory.
Barbatos grunted at the effort it was taking to both maintain your doorway and restrain Beelzebub. He flickered his eyes over to Diavolo. "What's happening? I can't maintain this for long."
Diavolo desperately looked around the room, trying to find answers. His eyes met Lucifer's and he frowned. "You know them best. What do you think happened?"
Lucifer looked over at the screaming form of one of his youngest brothers and felt the blood drain from his face. "MC..." His eyes snapped over to the others as the reality of the situation finally sunk in. "Oh my God."
Satan swallowed down the lump in his throat as he senses thundered around him. It was too much. He could still feel the phantom pain of someone strangling you and mutilating your body. His ears were ringing with the sound of Beel's cries and the his own pounding heart. His mouth opened and shut as his chest heaved and hands trembled by his side.
It was too much. Too new. Satan knew anger. He knew wrath, but this was more than that. This was his heart sinking into the cold murky depths of the deepest trench and being torn into shreds by predators. This was a child being abandoned in a dark forest with not even the sound of beasts to keep him company. This was standing hopeless across the street, unable to do anything as his home and everything he loved burned to the ground.
It was grief. Regret. Sadness. Despair. Loneliness. Heartbreak.
He clenched a hand onto his shirt as he found himself struggling to breathe.
Satan glared over at you as his door creaked open and you peeked your head in. Rather than flinching away, you simply smiled softly and entered, revealing the tea tray you were carrying.
Satan growled in warning as you set down the tray beside him and took a seat across from him. "I'm not in the mood, MC," he snapped.
You nodded and picked up one of the teacups as you leaned against the chair. "I know. You just got done yelling at Lucifer. I thought you might want some tea and company to calm down a little,"
His lip curled as he snarled at you. "What I want is to be alone. I'm angry. You shouldn't be here right now. Did you learn nothing from the time I threatened you?"
You shrugged and took a sip of your tea, saying nothing more, but not moving. Satan glared at you, the traces of his rage towards his brother still swirling in his veins.
As he watched you drink your tea without a trace of fear on your face, he slowly felt himself cool down. He let out a shuttered sigh as he picked up his own teacup and took a sip. It was only when he went to go put the cup down did he notice his hands were shaking and something wet was trickling down his face.
"It's not fair," he whispered. You remained quiet, looking at him with your full and undivided attention. "Lucifer thinks he knows everything and because of that h-he just bosses us around with no regard for what we actually want and it's infuriating! And then when I snap, when I give in to my sin and yell at him, it just makes things worst. He looks at me like he was expecting it to happen! Like this- this being of wrath is all I am!"
He looked up as he felt your hands cup his cheeks, he hadn't even noticed you had moved closer to him. Your sincere eyes glittered at him affectionately as you tenderly wiped the tears from his face. "You're not your anger, Satan, and you're not Lucifer."
Satan felt his lip tremble as he placed his hand over top of yours. "Then who am I?"
You smiled softly and kissed his forehead. "You're Satan. The smartest demon in all the Devildom. Lover of cats and books," he felt his breath catch in his throat as you grinned at him. "You're my friend and a loving brother. That's who you are. Don't let your anger or Lucifer or anyone else ever change that. You're more than just your sin."
Satan found himself instinctively running through the breathing exercises that you had taught him. He whimpered and grasped at the spot where his pact mark should have laid. He barely had any time being yours compared to his brothers. He couldn't have lost you.
He looked up at Lucifer and reached out for him.
Lucifer's eyes widened at the gesture, but without hesitation, he rushed over to Satan and took the blond into his arms. Satan fell into his chest and let himself mourn.
Leviathan wasn't doing much better. His mouth opened and closed with words that just wouldn't come out. He wanted to scream. He wanted to call for you. He wanted to plead to an unlistening father to give you back to him, but no words left his lips.
He could distantly feel one of his hands repeatedly tapping his red, frowning pin as he choked on the tears lodged in his throat.
He silently shook his head, internally praying that this wasn't real. That maybe this was a dream. Maybe this would be like in the anime when there was a plot twist that brought the main character back to their sidekick — that brought Henry back to the Lord of Shadows.
"You don't stand a chance, foul villain!" Levi smirked as he pointed his sword at the mannequin standing in the middle of his room. "Even if you've taken down my brothers and slain my serpent, you will not win today. For I have something they didn't!"
Levi stood in proudly and waited, but nothing happened. He frowned and glanced over his shoulder. "I-I said, for I have something they didn't!"
"Oh shit!" You suddenly jumped out of the bathtub, decked out in the matching Henry costume to the Lord of Shadows one that Levi was wearing and awkwardly waved your sword. "That's right, for he has me! Henry, conqueror of... of..." Your eyes flickered over to Levi before you let out a loud groan and slumped your shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Levi. I keep messing this up."
Levi sighed and dropped his stance as he stepped out of character. "This is the third time, MC," he flushed as he fiddled with the handle of his sword. "I know this kind of Otaku stuff isn't for everyone. If you're bored or not into it, you can always leave. I wouldn't blame you if you-"
"Levi, no, no, no, no!" You quickly blurted out as you took him by the shoulders. "I love spending time with you and getting to take part in your passions. It means that I get to learn more about you and share something that you love! I promise you, it's nothing like that. I'm just not used to this kind of stuff, you know?" You lifted up your sword and held the blade out to him. "Do you think the Lord of Shadows can be patient for his Henry and help them not look like a fool?"
Levi blushed as he clanged the side of his sword against yours and smiled. "I'll always wait for you. Promise."
Leviathan sobbed as he looked desperately over to Mammon. He knew that if anyone knew what he was experiencing, it was him. The two of them had always been the ones closest to you. You were theirs long before you were anyone else's.
Mammon just stood there. Unmoving and unreacting to anything around him.
"Good morning, oh Great Mammon. How blessed I, a mere human, am to be blessed by your presence."
Mammon was barely breathing. His fingernails dug into the skin over his heart, leaving indents on newly cleared skin where your mark once lay.
"Okay, okay I give!" laughter so beautiful none of the songs of the heavens could ever begin to compete "You're the best! The Great Mammon! You're my favourite and my one and only protector!"
"Damn right, I am! And don't you forget it!
It was like a void had swallowed his soul and spirit and left only a shell of the fiery, infuriated demon that had stood there just minutes earlier when... when...
"I can't believe Lucifer tied you up again and then just went to bed!" He couldn't remember the last time he saw someone so angry in his defence. "Doesn't he know how dangerous it is to leave someone hanging upside down for so long?! Come on, let's get you down from there."
"Th-Thanks, human. I guess you ain't so bad."
He could feel something pushing against his chest, begging to be let out, but he was still too shocked to acknowledge it. Too in denial of the truth. The truth that you had... you were...
"Hey, I'm real grateful for you, you know?" A smile so bright and sincere, he swore he'd never need to see the sun again. "If it wasn't for you, I don't know where I'd be right now. You really are amazing, Mammon. Don't let your brothers or anyone else ever tell you otherwise."
"...You're just sayin' that."
"No, I mean it." Smooth hands that ignited fireworks under his skin in a way that he had never felt in his thousands of years as a demon. "You're kind. You're clever. You're so caring to those around you. You protect me and make sure that I'm safe." His heart had never skipped a beat like this before. "I'm so lucky to have you, Mammon."
"Mammon?" Levi barely managed to whisper as he lightly pulled on his older brother's jacket. He whined as Mammon didn't react, but continued staring into open space with dull, expressionless eyes. Things seemed to calm for a moment, as everyone finally noticed the vacant state of the second born. "M-Mammon?"
"Go back and undo it," Mammon croaked, his watery eyes were staring at Barbatos, but there was no sign that he was actually taking in anything around him. "Y-You can control time. You can go back, a-and we can grab them and stop them f-f-from whatever just happened and-" he stumbled over a choked sob as he finally looked, really looked, at the butler.
Barbatos couldn't help but gasp at the shattered expression before him.
"Please. I need them. Y-You have ta get them. Please. I-I have so much I never told them. You have to-"
"Mammon," Lucifer gently spoke. Mammon jolted back, bumping into Levi, as Lucifer placed a hand on his shoulder. The eldest brother frowned in concern. "If they're gone, you know there's nothing we can do. I'm sorry but, MC's gone. They're dead."
The little string of denial that was holding up the fragments of Mammon's heart together broke, and a wail of pure grief filled the air as Mammon collapsed to his knees.
Levi and Lucifer were by his side, holding their brother in an instant, Satan and tearful Asmodeus were quick to follow, and a newly freed Beelzebub hurried over the moment he was able.
As much as they teased and poked fun at Mammon for his obvious feelings for you, they couldn't deny that you and Mammon had a bond long before the rest of them did.
Mammon shuttered, his nails scratching down his arms as he screamed out all the agony that filled his very being. "I-I can't lose them!" He cried as Lucifer tightened his arms around him. "I need them! I love them! I-I love them and they're-"
Lucifer didn't say anything. There was nothing he could say that would provide even the slightest bit of comfort to his most treasured brother. He didn't have a pact with you like the rest of them. He had no idea what they had just went through. He never got to know you like they had and now, he realized, he never would.
Leviathan whimpered beside Mammon and curled himself against his side, embracing him as closely as he could. Mammon sobbed and latched onto him. "What do we do?" He asked no one in particular. "MC's g-gone. They're, they're d-dead," he choked on the words. "I don't know what to- What happens now?"
Tears flowed down Satan's cheeks as he gripped onto Asmo's hand and kept his other hand on Lucifer's shoulder. "I-I don't know. Everything's going to-to be different."
Beelzebub sniffled as he momentarily released one arm from its hold on a majority of his brother to wipe at his face. "We'll figure it out. We'll... We'll do what they w-would've wanted and figure it out t-together. No brooding alone, o-or hiding. W-We stay together."
Asmo nodded and pulled both Beel and Satan into a hug as he cried into Beel's shoulder.
The brothers weren't okay. They wouldn't be for a long time. You were dead, and your absence left a gaping hole that they weren't sure they could ever fill.
You had brought a sense of happiness, security, reassurance, friendship and, most of all, love into their lives that they had been starved of for so long. With you gone, they were forced to open up to one another and rely on their family.
In all the darkness that your death brought, it was a warm comfort knowing that your impact, your legacy, lingered with them in a way that they hoped would make you proud.
In the traces of the family that you had helped reforged, the brothers could smile and find peace knowing that even if their marks had long since faded, you were never truly gone.
***Please don't kill me. Also, please look after yourself, get some water, some comfy blankets, tissues needed, and make sure you're okay. Love you guys. I hope that despite all the angst, you enjoyed this fic. Thank you so much for all the love and support! -B***
summary: Peter feels a little out of it lately, feeling guilty as hell too after you get hurt by electro. but you're always there, telling him how proud you are of him.
warnings: injury, electrocution (mild)
pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader
a/n: really got stuck with writing this midway and not my fave, but ahhhh it's here so I hope you like it my loves
"Jesus, I'm so sorry if I offended you in any way, mighty Spiderman." You rolled your eyes, giggling at Peter's expression and shaking your head at the same disbelief you had weeks ago when Peter revealed his secret.
"Oh, come on! I thought you promised we weren't gonna address me as him in public!" Peter complained, his leg bouncing up and down.
"Ah, its just too funny. I don't believe you're as humble as you're acting right now, I mean— you're a goddamn superhero, Pete. You really need to feed your ego." You joked, smiling at him.
"Shut up." He mutters, though not shying away from a smile and doing so while shaking his head.
You've been with Peter I the public library since six, and now it's nearing nine but not one of you are that enthused to return back to your own apartment. Spending time with Peter was easy, that even time didn't feel real when you were laughing along to his stupid jokes.
"No seriously, you deserve the credit. For everything you've done for this city ... I'm really proud of you." You comment, biting your tongue before you could go all up and confessing your undying love to him.
"Yeah? You really are? Even if it was all a stupid coincidence that I got bit by a radioactive spider and got muscly in a day?" He joked, but his eyes speckled with light, his heart beating faster at the praise from you.
You launch your hands forward, grabbing his hands and clutching them tightly. "Peter! How could you even ask that? Yes, you got bit by a radioactive spider and got the upper hand and could practically defeat anybody— but, you also chose to use your ... er, webs to help people." You tell him, your thumb rubbing softly at his skin.
Without hesitation, Peter brought your hands up to his chin and rested it there for a moment. He smiled at you, muttered a thank you and kissed your knuckles with gratitude. "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that, Y/n. It's— it's really great to hear how you believe in me."
You bit your lip and nodded, hands still resting on Peter's chin. Your cheeks are hot, like it was set on fire the moment Peter pressed his soft lips to your skin. "I'll be here every step of the way. Even though you are—" you whisper, "Spiderman, and you're practically New York City's savior, you're still my best friend, and that fact won't ever change."
Just the moment where Peter was about to thank you, and kiss your hand once more— a loud crash could be heard not a few feet away from you. You panicked, retracting your hand from Peter immediately and getting up from the chair.
"Did you hear that?" You ask your best friend, who was gripping his collar tightly— probably ready to launch into Spiderman any moment know if anything dangerous was sensed.
"I— yeah, of course I did!" Peter replied, carefully walking to where you stood.
From the corner of your eye, a bright blue light could be seen. It was piercing your eyesight and you had to look away, catching the sight of a man. But it wasn't just any man, as your gaze traveled further all over the man. A sliver of his skin was exposed from his hoodie, and you gasped as soon as you saw the blue tint of his skin.
That was the electric guy from a few weeks ago! Peter explained it all to you the night he told you he was Spiderman. "Pete!" You whisper-shouted, trying to get his attention. "Peter!" You said again, louder this time.
Peter didn't seem to hear your calls, hurrying to take his shirt off and exposing the familiar red and blue suit. With a quick web, his hand caught the mask and he put it on immediately. Then he shot another web and pulled his body to stand on the huge book shelves.
You decided to follow him, shouldering off the fear and running over to where he stood now. You could hear the faint conversation he was having with electric guy. But you didn't dare show up your face in case anything horrible was happening.
It all happened so quickly them, in a second— the lights turned off and the room was pitch black except for electric guy and his bolts of electricity shining all over the library. Peter yelped as one coil touched his leg, jumping over and hurrying to cover his web over electric guy.
A bookshelf fell, another, and then another. You panicked, not knowing where to go to and instead colliding your back to the wall.
"Hey—!" Peter started at you, "What— what are you doing?" He shouted, worry striking all over him at the sight of you with panic in your eyes.
"Get me out of here!" You shouted at him, tripping over some of the books that had fallen from the shelves. "Pe— Spiderman, please!"
A loud chuckle could be heard behind Peter, as electric guy masked a cocky grin and extended an electrical coil your way. "Who's this, hm?" He asked to Peter.
"Let her go! This isn't about her, c'mon man!" He pleaded, and though his words were simple— his voice was harsh.
"Oh, but it can be." Electric guy said with delight, "The only way to truly get you off my back ... Spiderman, is if I kill ... you." He turned his head to you, his coils wrapping around your body and lifting you up the ground. There seemed to be another layer of his power that protected you from the electricity, but it wasn't entirely comfortable for you.
"That's not fair!" Peter shouted, his hands shooting webs all around you and trying to get you off of the electric hold. "Let her go!"
With a loud rumble of laughter, electric guy pressed his coils together and you could feel the electricity burning on your skin. You struggled against his hold, screaming at the singing feeling of your bones.
You could hear Peter whooshing around, his webs slipping out with ease trying to help you from dying. But it wasn't enough apparently, even his desperate pleas for you yo keep your eyes open— it wasn't enough. And with that, your eyes closed and your body felt number all over— falling to a darkness that surrounded you.
If you wanted to know how being knocked out by an electric powered guy felt, the answer was one simple word ... tiring. Not only did your body felt tingly when you woke up, but you were also exhausted. Electric guy must've soaked up some kind of your natural energy or something, because you did not feel good.
At least on the bright side, you were laying on your bed and not in the middle of a New York public library. Peter must've bought you back to your shared apartment, not wanting you to wake up somewhere he couldn't look over you. The faint voices of the television sounded really loud, even though you knew Peter kept it low because he just needed the sounds to keep him focused.
As you tried to twist your body into a more comfortable position, your body suddenly felt painfully sore that you let out a loud groan. The sound made Peter jump in his place and slip inside your room with ease. He kept the door open in case you needed anything, and also to keep a close eye at you.
The moment Peter stepped inside the room, his hand came in contact with your waist to pull you into the position you were earlier. "Don't move, sweetheart. It feels better I'd you stay in one place I swear— this isn't my first rodeo with Electro."
You ignored the nickname that Peter called you and focused on righting your position. "Uh— Electro?"
Peter shrugged, "Yeah, it's like ... it's his villain name?" He questions, chuckling at your confused expression.
"God, I'm so stupid. Why did I even have to come round where you were. I'm sure you could've handled it, now I'm all sore and shit and I don't think you got him, huh?"
Peter shook his head, almost guiltily at your words. "He was about to kill you ... there's no way I would choose to go after him knowing the state you were in." He said sheepishly, scratching his arm nervously to distract your burning gaze.
"I was pretty banged up? How did I look?" You joked, laughing along at your own joke.
Peter didn't seem amused though, because he just brushed away the hair in your face and caressed your cheeks eith his finger softly. His finger makes a circling shape, tracing the color of your rounded cheeks with such softness.
"You looked ..." He paused, pressing your cheek and ever so slightly pinching it. "You looked pained. But still very much perfect to me."
Your hand went to his, moving it away from your face because of your fast heart moving uncontrollably. "Pete ... you're way too close." You inform him, taking in his pursed lips and his face contorting seriously.
By now, Peter had sat himself on the edge if your bed. His hands are in yours, twisted and tangled just like the mess in his head whenever he was around you. "Can I tell you something?" Peter nods and you begin, clearing your throat first before smiling at him.
"I uh— I've got a confession. Well, more like a half confession? If that makes sense. I want to uh— um start off by saying how proud I am of you. Even though you beat yourself up over little things and big things too. Even though you're indecisive and always think way too late. But I am, y'know? You have no idea ..." You chuckled, looking up at the ceiling and glancing back at Peter. "You have no idea how proud I am of you, Parker." You utter, your voice almost a whisper.
"Are you really—?"
"Fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, yes! You're so amazing. You taking care of me right now shows just how much." You comment, making light glow wider in his eyes.
"I'll always be there for you. Whenever you need me, just holler or something." He chuckled, his hand squeezing your hand and moving away from the tight hold to bring it up your cheek.
You don't say anything, staying silent and letting the moment pass on without your mouth creating any more awkward situations.
Just as Peter is about to press a chaste kiss on your cheek, his hand already moving the side of your face so he can reach you— you turn your head. With no more sudden movements, your lips find each other.
It's stiff at first, and you're about to pull away because you don't feel the immediate chemistry. But then, Peter presses his lips to yours so hard that you're getting dizzy. Dizzy because of him, because he would never stop your world from spinning excitedly.
It takes a moment to adjust, maybe the position isn't comfortable enough— or there's still that leering shyness between both of you. But after that moment passes, you get lost in Peter and he does in you too.
"For the record, I think you're a really amazing kisser too." You manage to slip out, following then by giggles and little nips of Peter's kiss painting your face sweetly.
Warning(s): Mentions of: spit, daddy kink, choking, toys, cum play, & dumbification, but nothing too into detail! Other than that, I think I got everything!
A/N: This was pretty fun to write! Also, I made the reader as gender neutral as I could, so enjoy!
A- Aftercare: What they’re like after sex!
He tends to get a little sluggish after sex, but he does make it a point to get you whatever it is that you need. Water? Snack? He’s got it! Wanna take a shower or a nice warm bath? He’s on it! He’s also a lot more affectionate and cuddly after sex too.
B- Body Part: Favorite body part for you and himself!
For himself, he really likes his hands and fingers, he loves how quickly he can turn you into a whimpering mess with them!
For you? It’s your chest! He can leave his mark all over it and he won’t feel bad about it because it’s easy to hide.
C- Cum: How fast do they cum? And where do they cum?
He can last for a scarily long time… and even if he does let himself slip up and he cums quicker than he wanted to, he has enough stamina to keep going.
As for where he likes to cum, it’s inside, always. He loves watching it drip out of you! Runner up is your mouth!
D- Dirty Secret: What dirty secret does he have?
He keeps a pair of your panties in his office desk to jerk off with, but don’t worry, he changes them every time he uses them! Sometimes they’re panties that you’ve already worn!
E- Experience: How much experience does he have in the bedroom?
He’s VERY experienced! Come on, he's from Roppongi, the district known for partying! And on top of that, he’s a little too smug and attractive to NOT have any experience. He gets around.
F- Favorite position: What position does he enjoy the most?
Literally any position that lets him see your face or ass. He’ll never admit it, but he’s a sucker for missionary, he loves watching your face contort in pleasure!
G- Goofy: How serious is he?
It depends on the day and the mood. He’s usually pretty relaxed and never too serious. But there are those times where he thinks of a stupid event that happened that day and he’ll chuckle about it before telling you, which makes you laugh in return! So truthfully its a gamble with this one.
H- Hair: How does he keep himself groomed down there?
He keeps it trimmed, neat and simple, he never shaves himself completely!
I- Intimacy: How intimate is he? Is he rough or gentle?
Once again, it truly depends on the day. He’s a soft dom, so he’s never too rough, unless he had a bad day, or if you’ve truly earned it. But as a whole, he’s pretty intimate, even when he’s rough!
J- Jerk off: How much does he jerk off?
He’s shameless, so he’ll jerk off whenever he feels the need to, if you’re not around to help, he’ll do it himself!
K- Kinks: What kink(s) does he have?
And there's probably a lot more, you never know with this one.
L- Location: Where does he like to do it?
Usually in the bedroom, he likes his bed, but he does like to do it in his office on his desk too! He’ll move everything aside just to make space for you!
M- Motivation: What turns him on?
Running your hands over his chest or thighs
N- No: Something he ABSOLUTELY will not do?
Anything that had to do with bodily fluids other than spit and cum, he’s a wildcard, but he ain’t that wild.
O- Oral: Giving and receiving! How skilled is he?
He absolutely loves blowjobs! He’ll never turn one down, and he’ll ask for one when he wants one!
He’s a fucking BEAST at oral, no matter what you have, he’ll eat it up and have you seeing stars!
P- Pace: How fast is he in bed?
I know I sound like a broken record at this point, but it depends on the day and the mood. He starts off slow to get you adjusted, then he’ll speed it up as he goes, then he’ll slow down just to tease! However if he’s pissed, he's going hard and rough.
Q- Quickie: Does he enjoy quickies?
They’re not his favorite because he likes to take his time, but he’s still down for them! They mainly happen in his office before or after meetings, or in the kitchen before he leaves for work!
R- Risk: Would he ever risk getting caught?
He fucks in his office… He enjoys the risk of almost getting caught! Hell, he even enjoys getting caught, it’s thrilling for him!
S- Stamina: How long can he last?
He can last a VERY long time, he won’t stop till he feels its necessary, or if you tap out, it doesn’t matter how many times he came, if he wants to keep going, he’s gonna keep going!
T- Toys: Does he use toys during sex?
He sees them as his best friends tbh! Anything that can make you feel good are game in his book! He’s not afraid to use them! He’ll even pick some out for you if you want!
U- Unfair: Is he a tease in bed?
Yes, he is. No matter if its his words, or if its how he touches you, he’s gonna be teasing you in SOME way, shape, or form!
V- Volume: How loud is he in bed?
He’s usually pretty quiet. He lets out soft, breathy moans, and even little groans! But he does lose himself in pleasure sometimes, now at times like this, he’s loud and he’s not ashamed of it, I'm talking pornstar moans, he lets you know how he’s feeling.
W- Wildcard: Random Headcanon!
He’s quite possessive, he’ll fuck you in front of anybody that thinks that they have a chance with you, absolutely no shame in his game!
He wants to share you with Rin & Sanzu! He’s a little shy about asking because he doesn’t wanna freak you out, but he thinks about it a lot.
X- X-ray: What does his “other half” look like?
I’d say about 7.5in when soft, 8.5in when hard, and he has so much girth! He has a prominent vein that runs up the side. It’s the same color as the rest of him, but with a slight pink hue, and the tip is usually pretty red!
Y- Yearning: What does his sexdrive look like?
Horny mf! The sight of you gets him hard sometimes, someone could say your name and he’d probably get hard. He’s a dirty dirty man, and we love that for him!
Z- Zzz: How quickly does he fall asleep after?
He won’t fall asleep till you’re cleaned up and comfortable. He’ll stay up as long as it takes, no matter how worn out or sleepy he is!
notes: ah my first enhypen fic. sorry if it’s short, i had an exhausting day at work. i’m gonna try and pump out as many fics as i can before school starts up, because once it does i won’t have time to write as often :(( enjoy!
◦ definitely a silent cuddler
◦ he doesn't really like begging you for cuddles, so whenever he's in the mood for some he just kinda stares at you like 😐 hoping you'll get the hint.
◦ if you're really oblivious no offence bestie but u are then he'll literally just grab you.
◦ he's had enough like cmon you're telling me his telepathy powers don't work??? ok maybe ur just dumb 🙄
◦ definitely mutters about how stupid you are underneath his breath while dragging you to the bedroom.
◦ and when i say drag,,, i mean DRAG.
◦ probably has you hoisted over his shoulder, one hand on your waist, the other on your ass ahem
◦ he wants to be little spoon for at least 5 minutes because its what he deserves.
◦ after that he just loves having you in his arms, your head against his chest, legs intertwined.
◦ your cuddles are his lifeline,,, he absolutely needs them. especially after taking care of his children rehearsal <3
◦ he may look all tough on the outside,,,
◦ but honestly he's a huge softie on the inside !
◦ loves being both big and little spoon.
◦adores it when you lay your head on his chest. he starts running a hand through your hair and talks about his day. if you fall asleep on him he starts to melt at how adorable you are.
◦ loves putting his head in the crook of your neck. your arms make him feel safe and loved.
◦also loves cuddles where you’re facing each other. that way he can gaze at you all he wants.
◦definitely plants butterfly kisses on your neck, hands, face, etc. it’s not sexual, he just wants to convey all of his love! <3
◦baby boy is so soft and cuddly 🥺
◦yes he’s my bias what about it
◦basically a giant teddy bear !!
◦he LOVES cuddling. he lives for warm intimacy. he needs your cuddles more than he needs air.
◦he definitely loves being little spoon. big spoon is fun and all but after a long day all he needs is you and a soft blanket :((
◦definitely the type to kiss you while you’re cuddling. he can’t help it he’s just so full of love!!
◦mutters a soft “i love you” every five seconds. gets mega butterflies if you say it back.
◦bonus points if layla starts cuddling as well. it’s basically like a family reunion. his two favourite people i know the dog isn’t a person but u get what i mean
◦baby boy just has so much love to give <3
◦he’s not an absolute cuddle bug like jake
◦but he’s also not opposed to it.
◦will definitely never do it near the members though (he has a reputation to uphold 🙄).
◦probably likes either you laying on his chest or you with your back towards him. this mf will FIGHT for his place as the big spoon😡
◦if he’s tired enough he’ll plant small forehead kisses !!
◦doesn’t admit it but any sort of physical affection that you’ve initiated makes his heart go crazy.
synopsis: in which all the wrong guys are in love with you, you’re in love with your best friend, and your best friend is in love with stupidity.
genre: bff2l, college au, they’re both cs majors (don’t boo me), tooth-rotting stomachache-inducing fluff.
warning(s): language, alcohol, so many typos probably.
a/n: this is an old wip so it’s not probably up to date with the jokes. i literally scrapped it and brought it back again. also there is not plot and i was peer pressured into posting this. i’m kind of glad to be back into the schedule of posting though!! ٩(^ᴗ^)۶
The thing is, you can’t ever say for sure that Liu Yangyang was your first love. Not when he was missing a tooth, with hair tossed wild in the wind and a Spiderman bandaid on his scraped knee beneath blue cotton shorts. You can’t say he ever made enough sense to be anyone’s first love at all.
But when he had extended a tiny hand towards you with nervous anticipation, you had taken it because you thought all of that was cute. Your neighbor with the squishy cheeks and round, inquisitive eyes was cute; and your parents had always told you to mind your manners. Of course, manners weren’t what forced you to inevitably like him. And anyway, he had only asked for your help because you were a head taller back then and he couldn’t reach the button on the vending machine for his favorite juice. Now it makes sense as to why he was so red in the face and rambling his head off.
You’ve fallen in love a number of times, and they weren’t with Liu Yangyang. Your first love was more of a crush on the basketball captain four years older and in high school. He was tall and broad shouldered and you thought seventeen year olds were the coolest people on earth. They were, in fact, not. Liu Yangyang at seventeen had gotten rice stuck inside his nostril while trying to make a mustache out of brown sticky rice.
Your second love, in ninth grade, with a boy who had the brightest grin and his kiss tasted purple like your favorite color at the time, which slowly faded to a worn out gray when the time came. He was sweet, and considerate for a teenager, and showed you pictures of his cats but he was an exchange student and it only lasted a semester and a week. Liu Yangyang called the boy a fever dream and told you to forget him because "first relationships are always like that" according to his wiser, older friend in class 10-2.
Your third love was in the first year of college and it was less love and more casual attraction to a particularly happy-go-lucky senior. He always wore a look that made you uncomfortable and it was most likely because he was too hot and way too out of your league. Even more likely because he never stayed for too long. Liu Yangyang called him a jerk and an ape-faced asshole though you could sense some sort of jealousy from him. Maybe Yangyang just doesn't like popular guys.
So here you are now, with your untimely realization in Web Dev 101 that the boy sleeping beside you is the only boy that has stuck with you for the longest. The sun shines over the clean cut of his face and his dyed hair parted over his forehead, and you instinctively move your hand to block out the light over his eyes. It’s disgusting. Liu Yangyang is disgustingly cute.
You’re lucky the laptops cover you or the professor would yell his head off at the two of you for not paying attention. Yangyang’s laptop is vibrant, full of the stickers you got for free at hackathons and yours is neat and clean silver, a clear reflection of how much of a mess he is and a not-mess you are. ("It's decorative! I like them for motivation. Besides they're stuck in orderly fashion." "Dude, a sticker that says ‘uwu’ isn't exactly what you'd stick for motivation.") There's no way you'd fall for your doofus of a best friend, right?
“This is just cruel,” Yangyang mutters, and you quickly move your hand away.
“What is?” You whisper.
“The fact that he’s given us like three assignments and I still can’t panic enough to focus in class.”
You roll your eyes. “Three assignments over three weeks! That’s enough time.”
“I don’t want advice from an overachieving perfectionist.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with being a perfectionist? We’re almost the same. You fuss over shoes and I fuss over grades.”
Yangyang raises his head and narrows his eyes at you. “Touché.”
A nasal voice makes you drop the smile from your face as quick as lightning.
“Do you have anything to contribute to the rest of the lecture, Miss (name) and uh… your friend?”
Yangyang makes a face behind his timed out laptop screen, mouthing a complaint of “He doesn’t even know my name?”
You shake your head, offering a clean “No, Professor.” Yangyang sits straight and scratches the back of his head, mumbling a sheepish apology.
Once the class is over, you stop your usual detour to the professor and follow Yangyang out instead. The sun is slightly less harsher than before but he covers his eyes and yours too, in a gesture that’s meant more to smack you over the forehead.
“You are so annoying,” you huff.
“Like you’re any less annoying.”
“You’re going to make me lose my 4.0 one of these days,” you jab, holding your bag closer to you.
“Oh, boohoo, I’m (name) and I would push my best friend off a cliff if I went from a 4.0 to a 3.9.”
“You know me so well.”
Yangyang makes a face, adjusting his crinkled white T-shirt that you have told so many times to iron. You wonder how he functions at all, much less keeps up with academics and clubs.
"All the college's you could've joined and you had to enroll in the same one as me." You click your tongue.
You're not upset though. In fact, you'd told Yangyang just how dead set you were on getting in and how good the university is just so maybe, only maybe he'd want to join too. You wanted that to be at least one of the reasons behind his decision. But Liu Yangyang thinks for himself as clear as day. There's no way he would follow his best friend wherever, to the end of the world or to paradise. Would he?
You can't figure it out when he looks at you with such bright, twinkling eyes and a wide grin.
“Anyway, I should get going,” he says, holding up his phone.
So, here’s the issue.
Yangyang has a girlfriend, who he’s deeply in love with. You have a boyfriend you’re on the verge of breaking up with.
He smiles softly at Shuhua’s text, a little different from the way he smiles at you—like she’s the moon and you’re the sun. And everyone knows the way mortals have always loved the moon, enough to write pages and pages of literature about and enough to send billion dollar machines to see her closer. The sun might help them live but the moon is what they live for.
You can’t bring yourself to be jealous however. Apart from the fact that she was your closest campus friend in freshman year after Yangyang, she’d helped you get into frat parties and loosen up enough to (unintentionally) expand your social circle. Getting drunk really is the best way to make friends, especially if you’re not supposed to be drinking in the first place. You can’t count the number of times Shuhua helped you when you got a little too tipsy (while being tipsy herself and that’s a rare breed.)
The two of you only drifted apart after she changed her major to PolSci, and the frequency of visiting parties started to wane. Yangyang and Shuhua met through you. You should be happy your best friend finally got a college love life. According to statistics, most people get married to their highschool or college sweethearts. The thought sours your mood a bit.
“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll go meet up with Yunho. We have a cuter date planned than you do.”
Yangyang rolls his eyes. “Senior dudes are bad news. Break up with him.”
You exhale, disbelieving. “Not you thinking you have a say in my relationship.”
“Eh, whatever. Bye-bye!”
You watch him sprint across the hall with his baby blue bag dangling off his shoulder and you shake your head like a despairing mother at her disgraceful son. You wonder who really runs faster between the two of you—him, after the little joys of life or you, after a future that you’ve only brushed fingertips against. You’re graduating next year and it’s a little hopeless to fall in love with your best friend now.
So, of course, you’re going to pretend you’re not, not now, not ever.
You would rather die than go on a double date with your best friend and his girlfriend.
They look sickeningly happy (and you’re happy for them, you tell yourself) while you still, in your twenties now, can’t understand the concept of love.
The worst part is that Yunho isn’t coming. Your boyfriend has about a million other things he’d do than spend time with you. You wonder if you’re even on the priority list. It’s laughable—but only because you’re not any better. You wouldn’t be smiling at your best friend trying to win at the claw machine by the park entrance, tongue poking out in concentration and wondering if this is love.
“Is she coming any time soon?” You ask, checking the time on your watch.
“You know, I still think your boyfriend is shitty.” He looks up with an annoyed frown. “You look nice for once and he’s missing out.”
“For once? I’m not taking that from a gremlin.”
Yangyang rolls his eyes. “Shuhua’s got a project review. I don’t think she can make it.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I… just got the text.” He scratches the back of his head before turning back to the machine. “This thing is a scam.”
“You just realized?”
There’s a pause, the fresh wind gently caressing the two of you and he takes a step closer.
“Ice cream?” He says.
“Ice cream.” You giggle, the discomfort in your chest dissolving into the cold, melted pool of ice cream that Yangyang steals from you anyway.
“I still have the two tickets to the park…” Yangyang complains when you suggest going home.
“Save it so you can go with Shuhua,” you scold.
“It’s for the today, stupid!” He crosses his arms. “You’re wasting my money by not going.”
“Who asked you to prebook tickets? Idiot.”
“You said that’s the smarter option!”
“You’re supposed to make sure people are coming when you prebook!” You argue, furrowing your eyebrows.
“Let’s just go,” he mutters, slipping his hand into yours and pulling you over the sidewalk.
It’s not any old amusement park. It’s too grand and too jovial and too full of couples. God, you keep forgetting it’s a hotspot for sickly displays of whatever the hell they call love. You don’t care what they say, wearing matching cat ears is not love. Or coordinated couple outfits. Or couple rings. All of that is a stupid capitalistic ploy to thrive off temporary happiness.
You don’t know if it’s your boyfriend standing you up making you bitter, or the fact that you’re probably there with your best friend as a replacement for the love of his life. Why couldn’t you fall in love with Shuhua instead? It seems less painful to be in love with someone perfect. And sweet. And smells nice. (You’d think Yangyang would take some notes and stop using Axe body spray.)
The fact that you adore the ball of imperfections that Yangyang is makes it so much worse than it should be. There are still childish thoughts swirling in your head—you’ve known him longer, shouldn’t you be dating him? Or, you’re as close as two people can be, doesn’t that mean you should be lovers? After twenty-one years of life, you swallowed the pill stuck at the base of your tongue. Love cannot be equated with logic. It’s too impulsive, a ball of fire let loose on a blank, dark night. It’s completely ridiculous.
“Hello? (name), are you there?” Yangyang waves a hand in front of you. “Oh no, my robot’s malfunctioning. I need an engineer to help me. Oh wait, I’m the engineer.”
You smack his hand away. “Just… zoning out.”
“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” he whines. “We just got here. And I’m getting us some crepes.”
You sigh, following him as he walks backwards and crashes into a bunch of people. Good ol’ second hand embarrassment. You can never be rid of it as long as you’re with Yangyang. But he’s snapped you out of it at least. An amusement park is no place to be lamenting the misery of your love life.
“No,” you say, when you see where Yangyang is tugging you to. “I’m not riding that.”
“Don’t be a spoilsport,” he says. “I’ll let you cling to me when you get scared.”
“Yangyang.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I don’t like roller coasters because you grab onto my hand way too tight and oh, not to mention you screaming murder in my ear.”
A light flush burns at the tip of his ears.
“I’ve grown up, (name),” he responds, straightening and placing his hands at his hips.
You hate the touch of his hand when he holds your hand and drags you to the ride anyway. He would start tickle fights in a similar fashion too, when he didn’t get his way. He’s always been a brat. You shouldn’t be beaming at him just because he looks so adorable, all excited (mostly scared) about the crazy drop of the ride.
“Just you wait,” he says, grinning from ear to ear.
You don’t really want to wait anymore. The wait is the agony of it.
The ride leaves your hair just about as you’d expected. Yangyang’s is funnier. His bangs stick out in two different directions and the rest of it looks like a chemistry experiment gone wrong. You can’t help doubling over laughing at it; he looks so distressed just because a girl from your data science lab passed you by.
He takes out his phone, taking a selfie of the two of you and catching you off-guard. You’d tell him to delete it but you know he’s going to stash it away till your birthday, the prime time to post all your embarrassing pictures.
“Oh, man,” he says. “You think I can sell these for some cash? I know some guys who’d pay to see you smile like that.”
You only smile at him like that. Idiot.
You roll your eyes at him instead, now tugging him towards an ice-cream truck. Chocolate for you, cookies and cream for him—as always. But your favorite food is best savored with a lovely view.
“Why do you only like the boring rides?” he asks, drudging forward as you make your way to the Ferris wheel. It’s getting closer to evening, and somehow evening calls for proximity.
“I need some pictures for my Instagram!” You defend. “Besides, it feels pretty good to be above everything.”
“Like, ‘standing over the corpses of my enemies’ kind of above or ‘above my puny, human problems’ kind of above?” He raises an eyebrow.
You chuckle. “The second one.”
He hums, not responding. “My ice-cream’s melting because of you.”
Getting into the cabin, you get a warning from the employee to not drop your food there—but a bright grin from Yangyang makes her let you off easy. God, he is cute. You aren’t going crazy then. (But Shuhua’s decision was a lapse of judgment, you know. Yangyang aimed a bit too high and it landed somehow.)
“Hey, this is for you,” he says all of a sudden, the sky still candy blue behind him.
You blink at the butterfly hairpin, golden and pink (and going nicely with your outfit too, but you didn’t know Yangyang was paying attention.)
“Put it on,” you say, trying to calm the beating of your heart in the silence that follows. It’s just a gift. You’ve given each other gifts before—how are you forgetting your basic human functioning because of a little gesture?
Yangyang gives you his ice-cream to hold, his hands nimbly smoothing out your hair before clipping your hair back near your ear.
“You look pretty,” he mumbles. He’s not even looking at you with how zoned out he is. “Pretty… uh, pretty stupid!”
“Nice save,” you retort. “I was thinking you’d fallen for me, like the piece of shit you are.”
“I wish I did,” he says, immediately regretting it after he says it.
“It’s nothing.” He gulps. “I… I just- no, it’s okay.”
“Yangyang,” you call in a warning tone. “At least talk over ice-cream.”
He pokes at his ice-cream, taking small bites occasionally. “Shuhua and I… sometimes I doubt us. It’s a complicated feeling. You know when you’re missing something, right? It’s like having a hole underneath a cover. I didn’t even notice.”
His voice wavers at the end.
“Hey,” you say, a rush of empathy flooding you as you place your hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s okay to feel insecure or something—”
“No, it’s not,” he says sharply, taking a breath. “It’s not insecurity. It’s just… I’m not having fun anymore. I wonder if that’s the only reason people fall in love.”
“I… I don’t know either. It’s kind of complicated, right?”
“That makes two of us then,” he says, recovering his grin. “It’s somehow always the two of us.”
The Ferris wheel stops, the two of you finally at the top. In the movies, they kiss now. But the only thing meeting your lips is your melted ice-cream. You almost forget to take the pictures you were in here for.
You wonder if posting Yangyang to your story will give the wrong impression. Immediately, you chide yourself. Why would it? Everyone knows you’re best friends. Nothing’s wrong about this. He looks pretty in the picture, in a black hoodie against shiny glass and a pastel background. He always brings the contrast. Something about that is pleasant to you. Your best friend isn’t a complicated, miserable pile of thoughts like you are. He’s just there. He’s always there.
Something causes you to blurt it out.
“You know, I’m glad it’s the two of us,” you say.
Yangyang blinks, not particularly trying to tear apart your sentence.
“Me too,” he responds.
This isn’t a movie. You already know that. You have to return to the ground at some point.
Maybe you can come to terms with it though. Being in love and not being loved. Liu Yangyang is still your best friend, and nothing can go wrong when it’s the two of you—even with whatever the hell is blooming and rotting inside your ribcage.
You part at the place you met, Yangyang providing one last glare at the claw machine. The sheep soft toy seems to offer a cheeky smile in return. He yells a goodbye, turning back over and over to see if you’re leaving. It’s a stupid thing he does.
“I had fun,” you call and he turns back again, eyes twinkling.
(Maybe you are in love. Maybe it isn’t so complicated. Maybe you should stop playing 4D chess at a checkers competition.)
He grins wide at you, a heart-wavering grin, something of routine and walks on with spry steps over the pavement. The sky is turning pink and the blue is bleeding away. The day will end, like all the rest.
Cotton candy totally doesn’t remind you of the time Yangyang faceplanted onto some during your sixth grade school trip. No, you totally don’t think of Yangyang and his plastic stegosaurus (his favorite) figurines when you see the dinosaur-themed ride. And of course, you don’t think of him over old pop love songs on the radio.
“The world is full of lies,” you’d said once on a park bench near your old high school. The day before summer vacation was always chaos for crowds and a strange moment of peace for the two of you.
You didn’t expect a reply. It was a usual complaint of yours, whenever something didn’t turn out right despite the best of your efforts. The world was and is still unfair. Coming to terms with that hurts even now.
“So let’s find the truth together!” He’d said, imitating the protagonist of a detective cartoon you used to watch as kids. You had laughed with him.
But you did want that. You wanted to find your truths together, sitting on a park bench with ice pops in your mouth. You wonder if he remembers that day.
The realization is as sudden as the click of a vending machine. You just have too many memories interlaced with the touch, scent and laugh of your best friend; it would be hard to let go now. For you, colors don’t fade. For him, a new color replaces the old. It’s hard to fall in love with someone splashed in the very colors you love but cannot have for yourself. Love is difficult and cruel and brutal—and you can curse your heart out at it. But the irony remains the same. You will always crave what you don’t have. Maybe it’ll comfort you to believe you wouldn’t want him if he were yours.
Everything that is easy is complicated. But even so, you know your comfort lies in that little intersection between the two, the spot that Yangyang holds for you.
Some days, you think you’re soaring.
Note: that has nothing to do with getting complimented by your professor on your semester project.
Maybe a little bit.
You don’t know what gives you the confidence (you know exactly what gives you the confidence) but you finally break up with Yunho. You know he’ll be okay. It was a long time coming, and no amount of begging is going to get you to unblock his number or hear out his explanation for basically ogling every other girl in the room whenever you’re together. Relationships require trust. If you can’t build that, it will always be a failure.
You sigh as you make your way back home. It’s not that you didn’t like him. He was so nice at first, and he built up your confidence without realizing. In the same fashion, he broke it down too. You hate to admit it but Yangyang was right. You spent too much time on someone that wasn’t worth it. But you’ll have these negative feelings bubble up on some other day.
This weekend is going to be spent relaxing.
The winds signify rain about to come and you take quicker steps to your apartment. You don’t hate rainy weather but they’re best spent inside.
The moment you enter your apartment, you find a familiar figure cooped up on the couch and the familiar scent of mint choco ice-cream. You frown. He only has that godforsaken flavor when something’s up. He’s got his laptop too, and watching a recap of the NBA games is definitely enough to make you question his mental wellbeing. On a side note, his image could definitely be on the new poster for the campus mental health awareness campaign.
“Yangyang?” you call, taking off your shoes.
He’s dressed in the Hello Kitty pajamas the two of you have a matching set of; he’d left it here at your place so he’d never have to resort to wearing that in the dorm. You don’t get what’s so bad about it. If he expects to wear classy velvet robes in his own place, he’s forgetting his origins—from spending time at Hello Kitty stores to winning a year’s supply of Pompompurin socks.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, leaning in to catch a glimpse of his face under the dim lights.
It looks like something out of a zombie horror flick, in an almost comedic way.
“I… I got demoted to ‘just friends’,” he mutters, looking away in a desperate attempt to pick up his shredded ego.
You take a moment to process it. Just friends…? ‘Just friends’ can be a haunting phrase too. You know that.
Your jaw drops. Pushing the tiny devil that’s laughing off your shoulder, you make your way to him.
“Do people fake break up?”
There’s a quiet pause.
“Can I go change before we can have the post-breakup talk?” You ask, noting the slight indifference in his face—at least, for what a post-breakup face should look like.
“Yeah, go ahead,” he says, waving his hand about. “I’ll be here wallowing in my misery. You have fun changing.”
“I can’t believe she broke up with me,” he whines, face pressed against his pillow before he removes it and huffs in annoyance. He eventually takes the bucket of ice cream and stuffs his face with some more. You really shouldn't be so glad about it but Yangyang isn't as down in the dumps as you'd thought either.
“You’re not sad?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Well, I have you.”
His casual demeanor isn’t all there is. You can see the red rim under his eyes and the blotchy cheeks.
You feel warm in the face anyway though you shouldn’t. “I’m not a substitute for a girlfriend, idiot.”
"Oh, but you'd be such a lovely one." He gives you a cheeky grin and he's met with a smack to the back of his head.
"You've got enough girls after you, just pick one."
Yangyang's eyes widen, a mocking glint in them. "I do? Why didn't you tell me earlier? Oh my god, all this time I've been hot and popular and no one told me."
"I didn't say hot. You’re just somehow desirable. Plus, I thought you'd be more confident."
"Oh, I am confident there are people in love with me. It's just more validating coming from you, Prom Queen."
You roll your eyes. "You would've been Prom King too if you didn't get diarrhea and had to get hospitalized."
"Can you please never bring that up again? I'm begging you."
"You ate stale fries on your own will, I wonder who's to blame?"
He frowns, clutching his ice-cream bucket tighter. "Guess who's not getting any ice-cream?"
"Hey now. Don't be immature."
The two of you share a short chuckle.
"What about you?" He asks all of a sudden. "You don't pay attention to any of the guys lining up for you either and it's killing me because they think I'm your manager or something. What am I supposed to do about their complaints and requests?"
"Ooh, they don't even stop to think you're my boyfriend. I'm so out of your league."
"No, it's because they know I'm dating- was dating Shuhua. And you have that asshole."
“I broke up with him,” you say casually.
“I broke up with him. He wasn’t good for me. You were right.”
Yangyang’s jaw drops. “Girl, I never thought I’d hear those words coming from you.”
You roll your eyes. "Shuhua was way out of your league too, by the way. You should thank me that you dated at all."
"Whose best friend are you again? I just got dumped, to remind you."
He chews at the pink plastic spoon with a pout. He might act like he doesn't care, and to an extent, he probably doesn't, but it certainly hurts his ego. He loses his cool around pretty girls and he's worse with rejections and break ups. His personality does a flip around you and his other friends, so you understand how all these girls find him 'cute' when he's just plain annoying.
You find him cute too and it's not when he's acting shy around strangers or focused on the code in his laptop or even when he's drunk flirting with girls at a party with ridiculously tacky pick-up lines. (Though the last one is a bit funny.) He's cute when he laughs at your jokes, or when he smiles at you and never says 'thank you' after you fix his code for him, or when he always gets two sets of juice boxes from the vending machine and two sets of everything from the convenience store at midnight. You are a set. That's what makes it so comfortable.
But there is the looming thought that you won't always be like this. College will end and you'll get a job and he'll meet someone and suddenly, you'll be the cool, unhinged wine aunt at his Christmas parties. Maybe he’ll even have some annoying kids to take after him. The thought makes you shudder. Yangyang should be legally prohibited from becoming a parent.
He lets out another groan and slides down to the floor in misery, breaking you out of that horrible loop of thoughts. You shake your head and follow, crouching on the floor beside him.
"Hey, don't overthink it. College breakups happen all the time and I've seen worse. Shuhua doesn't hate you or anything, I bet."
He moans again miserably, throwing his head back and resting it on the couch.
"God, why is our couch so uncomfortable?" He mutters irritably.
"Yangyang," you call.
Reaching your hand towards his face, you're taken aback when he grabs it before you can pinch his cheek.
"You're going to pinch my cheek, aren't you?" He complains. "I'm not a baby, you know?"
"You sure act like one," you mutter.
A moment passes and his grip on your wrist loosens to him holding your hand, fingers intertwined. He slowly opens them to compare your hand sizes.
"Wow, I've grown," he declares. Of course he did, you haven't compared hand sizes since sixth grade and you were bored out of your minds while cleaning up the classroom.
His hands are cold from the cup but yours are warm and that's all that matters. You're balanced in a way that no other guy can make you feel and not to mention, the stupid butterflies he's been giving you lately.
“Wanna go get some snacks?” You suggest. “They finally restocked the vending machine.”
Yangyang laughs. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Ooh, and you pick a movie.”
Yangyang nods, reluctantly getting up and pulling you up after him, though with more force than he intended. You end up crashing into his chest, the two of you mumbling apologies. You’re too tired to tease him—or so you tell yourself. The way you’re looking for a way to hide your face suggests a deeper embarrassment to it.
“You know it’s bad habit to have soda at night,” he says, watching you pick something from the vending machine. The glow highlights the sharp jawline and edges of his face, somehow making him look more mature than during daytime.
“You’re a bundle of bad habits, Yangyang, and here I am, with you.”
He pouts. “You’re not going to leave me too, are you?”
“I wish I could.”
“You just do not have any sympathy for me, do you?”
“Cruelty is an art and I am Picasso’s devotee.”
“What the fuck does that even mean- don’t answer me.”
You shake your head, leading the way back to your apartment. It doesn’t matter that you’re in unicorn pajamas. Uni nights could be worse.
After the ramen cups are empty (and the popcorn and the chips and the soda) and the movie is over, your head is still resting against his chest. Your roommate is going to go all suspicious eyes and teasing hums when she finds Yangyang here tomorrow. It’s not like you’re doing something in her absence. You’re not up to all of that.
Your face turns hot. It’s just the two of you in this apartment. Why is it so much worse than all the times it’s been just the two of you? Was he always sitting this close? Your sides are pressed together and the temperature of his skin is just as warm as yours. This is not a good feeling.
“We should sleep,” he whispers, shifting to sit up and you let out a whine. “Unless you want your roommate to get the wrong idea.”
“We’re clothed!” You blurt.
“Eh? I wasn’t talking about that,” he says, a cheshire cat smile growing on his face. “But I like the way you think.”
“Shut up, Yangyang.”
You get up, make a face at him and snatch the blanket.
“Hey—wait! I was joking. Please, I’ll freeze to death without a blanket.”
You giggle, rubbing your eyes sleepily and handing the soft cloth back to him without much of a fight. He looks too cute with sleep in his eyes.
There you go again. Overusing the word ‘cute’ on someone like Yangyang. He rests his shoulder against the doorframe of your bedroom, a zoned out smile on his face.
“Good night,” he whispers, a soft smile as he leans.
For a moment, you get the ridiculous idea that he’s going to kiss you good night. But of course, he straightens, waves goodbye with your spare pillow and exits the room towards the couch. You’re not disappointed. You can’t be disappointed. Yangyang and his stupid honey brown eyes.
Yangyang sighs, plopping down on the couch. One of these days he might as well hand over the knife to you, let you cut bone-deep. When Shuhua told him what she felt—that he’s always looking at someone else when he’s with her—it felt like a far-flung accusation. He didn’t even know who she was talking about.
Yangyang gets it now. It’s you. He wants to be with you all the time, hold your hand for some embarrassing reason and even worse, let his thumb brush your cheek when he kisses you. His heart is beating like crazy at your touches and he wonders if he didn’t notice all this time or if he suppressed it unknowingly. He did say he'd marry you when he was five years old but you’d smacked him with a stick at the playground. He didn’t understand the word then, he doesn’t understand it now—beyond fiscal advantages, that is. He doesn’t understand love. If he wasn’t in love with Shuhua—and he believes he wasn’t now that he sees clearly—is it you? Everything seems to be made for you anyway. It wouldn’t be so bad if he was too.
Yangyang holds his head and groans. The timing is too awkward. He can’t make sense of feelings. You would physically assault him if he suggested dating. There’s too many errors in his plan. He’d just rather pretend to sleep now, and hope the scent of you doesn’t keep him up too long.
“Hey, (name),” Yangyang calls, his laptop open in front of him.
“What is it, dickface?”
“Uncalled for, but okay.” He shifts, closing the laptop. “I had a question.”
“Spill. Why are you even prefacing your question? This isn’t our lab report.”
“You like me, don’t you?”
You freeze, looking up at him. He looks blank, with next to no emotion in his eyes. You wonder what gave it away. Having a crush feels like keeping a secret. You wonder why it’s always been that way for you, why you couldn’t be someone as open as Yukhei or Yuqi or Yerim. You want to push your heart to your sleeve but it always bounces back straight to your cheek.
Only Yangyang knows how to pull that cheek of yours. Even if you didn’t tell him, he’d know.
He looks… disappointed now. Your heart clenches. Of course. He’s still in love with someone else and you were stupid to regard a breakup as anything important.
“I can’t like you like that,” he says quietly, voice cold. “I’m sorry.”
Your ears are ringing. It’s not that bad but doesn’t this rejection feel a bit out of nowhere? You didn’t even get to confess first for god’s sake! Where is this even coming from. The ringing, shame, embarrassment and most importantly, a certain fear is getting louder. You don’t want him to look at you like that.
You wake up to the sound of your alarm. God, that didn’t feel right. It can’t be.
You sit up straight, cursing your roommate for turning off the air conditioner. Picking up your phone from your bedside table, you notice twenty-seven particular messages among the swarm of notifications.
I left early
Dejun’s about to beat my ass for taking both the keys
Left some cheetos for you
Only the empty packet tho i was hungry
ok before you get mad at me, i’ll buy you one after the morning lab
You check the time. It’s six in the morning. Nowhere near the time you’re used to waking up at.
Also check out this cute cat i found outside your apart
[3 image files attached]
too bad you missed it loser
Wait shit i didn’t mean to send that picture of you sleeping
You smile. No way. No way can he be cold. Your best friend is as warm as a summer’s day still. If he’s with you, it’s always a sunny day—even if there’s rain and snow. You tap away at a response, knowing he’ll react dramatically at you sending a text in the ass crack of dawn for no seeming reason. At least there’ll be a response. At least he won’t look at you with ice cold eyes.
It’s two packets of cheetos
and your debit card number
wtf are you awake for
Back to bed princess snoreface
You shake your head. That’s enough. The bed is warmer now and he’s not even here. It’s ridiculous how you’ve fallen. But maybe he’s your soft place to fall for a reason after all.
There it comes, like a domineering, crashing wave after a gentle lap of water at your feet.
It’s a bad day. It’s just a bad day.
You’re trying to keep your head straight but it’s clearly not working. Pre-finals week is almost worse than finals week.
And all of the pressure just makes you overthink. You’re at your worst and you’re alone. What could be better for the anxious turmoil of a brain you have? You wonder how people love each other through distress, through the worst. It’s terrible work. Why would anyone do it?
The weekend before finals is always the worst. You’re almost always alone and you hate it. Not that you have someone in mind even now. Not at all.
You groan and plant your cheek against the hard wooden desk. You’re not even studying now. You wish Yangyang would send a dumb meme to you already. Opening your phone to a flurry of Instagram notifications is not and has never been a good idea.
You notice the comment first.
‘Homewrecker in the making’ it reads under the post of you and Yangyang from the amusement park. It feels like months ago even if it was barely three weeks. The user is an empty profile, of course. But you never considered private lives to be summed up in one comment.
You close your phone. The idea still makes you uneasy. Were you at fault? Is it self-centered to think you’re the reason or is it responsible to pin the blame on yourself?
You take a shaky breath.
It’s not even the worst thing to happen to you that night.
Your ex-boyfriend decided to be an ass about the breakup and shade you on his social media, your gpa did drop from a 4.0 to a 3.9, which means you aren’t special anymore and Yangyang is nowhere to be found. To top it off, you missed an assignment arguing with your ex and now it’s past midnight.
It’s frustrating. Somehow, life decides to dump all the garbage on you at the same time. It’s like you’re getting reminded once more to stop pretending to be so fucking level-headed al the time. Is it because you like all your friends going to you for advice? So you can feel just about grounded enough and not like your feet are sinking into the floor below? Every time you run away, it catches up.
You respond to the text from Karina without thinking. All that’s left is alcohol now. Maybe that’s what your future resume will say. (Name), Alcoholic, Almost-homewrecker.
Girls’ night out couldn’t have come at a better time. Well, girls and Jaemin and Jeno, who are probably there as designated drivers. They shoot you polite smiles when they see you. For now, it’s these two, Karina, Ningning and Shuhua. Yeji, Minjung and Jisu said they’ll come over later. That’s enough of a crowd, you suppose.
You glance at Shuhua, wondering if the lines of her face were always this perfect. It’s not exactly jealousy, but something more wistful, more delicate than the hot brew of the former feeling. You don’t wish to be her. You wish to be like her.
“There’s no problem dick can’t solve, (name)!” Ningning says enthusiastically, making you raise an eyebrow.
“Ningning, I say this with only love in my heart, but who have you been hanging out with?”
She scratches the back of her head, offering a sheepish smile. “The sorority.”
“Oh, you got in!” You smile. “Congratulations.”
“If only you would join us,” Karina says, giving you a pointed look.
“I cannot afford that unreasonable house fee, Karina,” you reason.
“The frat is better than the sorority though, so just know you always have free entry to our parties from me,” Jaemin chimes in, grinning.
“You’re just doing that to get on Karina’s nerves,” Shuhua says, shaking her head. “If there were more of the girls, you’d be dead in a ditch somewhere.”
You giggle at the banter. This group is about as ridiculous as it gets.
And yet still, something is missing. You remember Yangyang’s words. That there’s a hole and you’re only covering it. The street lights are alive and twinkling as ever, the mechanical sound of cars passing by adding a rhythm to your senses. Something is missing. You think you know what—who it is. But you didn’t come here to think. No, you’re going to shove all of your thoughts aside for the moment.
One shot of vodka does not get anyone in your friend group drunk. Two shots of vodka gets Karina horribly drunk. Three shots of vodka makes you tipsy when you’re on an empty stomach.
The club is too dark, but also too bright and you find a place to sit down after Jaemin gets socked in the face by a very drunk Karina and has to sit down with you.
You laugh at Jaemin massaging his cheek.
“This is not funny!” He yells over the music. “Do you know how hard that girl punches?”
“She started boxing,” you respond, shrugging.
He makes a shocked expression, hand hovering over his chest and scandalized gesture.
“Do you wanna order some food?” He asks.
Ah, Jaemin, ever so observant.
“I’m good,” you tell him, though you can feel your stomach rumbling.
“I heard the frittatas here are really good!” He beams at you.
You laugh softly. “I’m fine, really.”
“Well, if you need anything, just let me know. I’ll be over there, avoiding the dragon lady throwing punches at people.”
You laugh and watch him leave for the bar. Jeno greets him and you’re not very good at reading mouths but from the flushed face and messy hair, you think Jeno’s been having fun. The poor boy’s going to face relentless teasing tomorrow morning. You have at least one thing to look forward to. The fog in your brain is starting to make you dizzy though, and the artificial lights are of no help.
“Are you okay?” Giselle pops up.
“Woah! You scared me there,” you say, placing a hand over your heart.
“You should drink to your heart’s content. Heard you finally broke up with your asshole boyfriend.”
You furrow your brows. “Who told you about my asshole boyfriend?”
“Yangyang,” she answers, smiling mischievously. “We’re rap buddies. He talks about you more than your asshole boyfriend though, don’t worry.”
You shake your head. “He talks too much.”
“No, I love storing all the gossip.” She grins. “And from what I’ve heard, let me tell you. Go for it!”
You blink, and even that feels sluggish. “Go… for what?”
“Ugh, I don’t wanna spell it out for you—that ruins the fun. You know what, you have the whole night to figure that out. Go have some fun now!”
You get pulled up by Giselle, her hands wrapped around your wrists.
“Let me get to the bathroom first,” you say.
“Alright, I’ll come with,” she responds.
Kali Uchis’ telepatía plays faintly through the bathroom doors. You’re just trying to fix your makeup before you take your fourth shot of vodka—and the girls take notice and get concerned about your love life. Though, you have a sneaking suspicion they might already have.
“Ooh, this is my favorite song at the moment!” Giselle exclaims before frowning at you. “Oof, you got mascara on your nose.”
You groan. “I spent twenty minutes perfecting that nose contour.”
“Maybe life is sometimes about the mascara ruining the nose contour.”
“You animation students say the weirdest shit.”
She laughs, raising her arms in defense. “You go a little crazy when you have four hour labs with the nerdiest professors ever. Also, I’m pretty sure one of them has committed a crime.”
You laugh. “I’m surprised you’re still sober.”
“I want to drink away my sorrows just as much as the other person but I have three assignments due tomorrow.”
You grit your teeth, making a face at the idea of assignments.
“Right?” She responds.
Just then, the bathroom door opens with a loud clang, making the two of you jump.
“Wooh! Why didn’t you guys tell me you were having a party here?” Shuhua yells. Karina follows her, still vibing to the music while Ningning just flashes you a peace sign, all red in the face.
Yeji brings in the gossip with a feline smile.
“Ningning has a new crush so we’re here to go FBI on him.”
Giselle and you cheer. Truly, your friends are the best thing to come out of college.
“The second news is that Jeno made out with a girl—not in our university, by the way—so we have to figure that out too.”
The whole group laughs.
“And lastly, I heard Shuhua dumped Yangyang, so we should bitch about him for a bit—as sisters. (name), you’re not allowed to protest.”
“(name) and I already bitched about him while I was dating him,” Shuhua saves.
“If anything, I should have more reasons to complain,” you add.
It doesn’t have to be summer for hot girl summer. You’ve known that since freshman year. You’re glad you went out because you laugh and you listen and you talk—without worrying about anything else. There’s no fear holding the strings to your actions, and anxiety is a long forgotten nemesis. You wonder if this is how Yangyang feels—to be devoid of burden, to just will through. Maybe that’s what makes you so relaxed around him. (It’s sure as hell not the Axe body spray.)
The alcohol starts burning through well past midnight. You finally take leave soon after. Jaemin and Jeno being the sweethearts they are and dropping everyone off. Once the cold night air hits you, so do the worries you left outside the warm, jovial club. You want to spend a little bit longer feeling less lonely. You want to fill up the part that’s never full—but maybe a few more shots would’ve filled it. The void of intimacy in your life is starting to take a toll on you.
All of the girls now, with the exception of Shuhua, went home and now the two of you are left in tired silence. Jaemin offered a ride but you refused, seeing that three drunk girls is already more than what he can handle. Shuhua breathes slowly beside you, in a state of concord with the city around you. From what she’s said, she didn’t exactly ace all her assignments either. Your shoulders touch but you’re too preoccupied by your own thoughts.
You sit quietly on the ledge of the sidewalk, the urge to cry asserting itself over your senses once again. There is so much to do and you have done nothing.
“You should go to him,” Shuhua whispers.
You scoff. “Did the alcohol affect your head? You want me to go to my ex—”
“Not him,” she clarifies, massaging her forehead. “Yangyang. He’s always waiting for you, you know?”
You turn to her, eyes stinging. “What do you mean?”
“I knew it when he told me not to come that day. To the amusement park. He said you looked like you needed some cheering up.”
You blink. “He… did what?”
Shuhua sighs. “Every time, he’s just looking at you and waiting for you to turn to him. Even when he said things to me, they felt like words he’s spoken before. That kind of thing. I think what you have is lovelier.”
“Don’t look at me like that, ew. I’m not jealous. Over a boy? Nasty.”
“That’s not what I was doing—I thought you could read the look in my eyes.” You laugh.
“Ew. Save that for your future boyfriend, who is hopefully your best friend.”
“I was going to say, I’m beating the shit out of him for treating you less than what you deserve. I didn’t know he was a terrible boyfriend. Actually, I’m kind of pissed.”
“Slow down, that’s the alcohol.” She laughs. “Anyway, I’ve thrown my share of stuff at him over these few months. Now, go, you’re killing my hot single vibe. I’m having Yuqi come pick me up.”
You nod, smiling.
“Do you want me to come walk you to the dorms? I feel like an audience would lessen the romantic effect though.”
You sigh. “I can’t- I don’t know what to tell him.”
“You were planning to go to him anyway. Weren’t you?”
Your eyes widen. “How would you… that obvious, huh?”
“As clear as day.”
Your eyes water and you rub at them, feeling the gnawing of hopelessness at your chest. Isn’t it too late? If you run to him at your lowest, will he still let you in? You can’t be using him like that.
“It’s good to have someone to rely on,” Shuhua whispers. “And remember, if life’s going to be a bitch, so will you.”
“Thanks,” you mumble, touched for no apparent reason. It takes your whole system to not cry right then and there.
The two of you part when Yuqi arrives and you get up reluctantly, holding your head. It’s only a five minute walk from where you were sitting but it feels longer than usual. Doubts bubble up, fears and insecurities and you can’t shove them aside like you could when you were younger. You don’t want to lose him. You don’t want him to work somewhere miles away from you with sparse FaceTime calls as the only string holding your fading friendship.
You don’t want to lose him, but there’s a stronger feeling. You want to love and to be loved the way you want. There’s no one who knows how to better than Yangyang.
Crying all the way wasn’t part of the plan but the alcohol has loosened up your system. As if it couldn't get any worse, the little droplets sting your skin as you walk along the sidewalk, along the familiar path to the boys’ dormitory.
Yangyang arrives running with an umbrella and clutching his phone. His hair is wet from a shower, not the rain, and you remember how much he hates the rain. Shuhua must have texted her. It would be nice to have someone know where you are and when you need them, but this will do. Yangyang is more than enough.
Your voice chokes up before you even begin. "I’m sorry, it’s late."
Yangyang’s eyes soften and he rushes to you, his umbrella now over both of your heads and you cling to his shirt with shaking hands.
“I’m being dramatic, aren’t I?” you say, chuckling dryly.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “You always shoulder too much and then stress yourself out.”
The love you feel is so overwhelming, it makes you want to shut your eyes and curl into yourself. You are and have been in love with him for so long, but it’s a little late now. You can only cling onto him at your worst.
His hands are gentle when they sneak you into his room, like he’s done so many times before, and the fabric of his shirt is soft and reminiscent of your cotton days back in school. You’ve come a long way without realizing you have.
The inside of his room is warm. Much more calmed down now, you offer Yangyang a spark of a smile and he bites down his, as if trying to make it less obvious. Your feet dangle off the counter, the air cold against bare skin. His hoodie is warm though and it fits your frame perfectly.
"Unfortunately, all I have is vanilla ice cream."
He scours the fridge some more.
"That'll do," you answer, sniffing.
"Are you sure? I could ask Dejun for his secret snack stash. He's got some flaming hot Cheetos if you need a better reason to cry."
You shake your head, a smile poking at your lips. Yangyang takes out the ice cream complying and hands you the entire bucket.
"I know it's an emergency so you can have the whole thing. But don't eat too much at once or you'll get a bellyache."
"Thanks, Yangyang," you say hoarsely. "You're too good to me."
He shakes his head, dark eyebrows furrowed. "You're more than deserving."
A faint glow over his cheeks comes into your view under the dim kitchen lights. It takes you back to Yunho again, and his stupidly bright grin that made you doubt your own worth. You could give him the world and he'd pack it in a box and keep it aside to be forgotten and collect dust. He was always above you, older and wiser and smarter. You followed him like a lost puppy.
You tear up again, alarming Yangyang who takes a reflexive step towards you, thumbs wiping the tears from under your eyes.
"Oh god, I look so stupid. I'm crying over nothing."
"You do look stupid. But it's okay. It’s not nothing."
Yangyang's face is so close to yours, you want to hold it like he holds yours. You want to reciprocate that gentle touch of his even from clumsy, calloused fingers. If it were Yangyang, you might not have been crying. If it were him, it would've been a thousand times worse. You wouldn't be thinking of another man at all. You'd never be able to listen to the songs he’d introduced you to, or look at notes scribbled on paper napkins and old paper bills, or even beagle puppies at your local pet store.
“This isn’t even the worst of it,” you mutter.
“We graduate next year, Yang. It’s not a good feeling.”
“Don’t you have like three FAANG internships under the belt already? You’ll be fine.”
“You have no faith in me, do you?”
You giggle. “You’re good at things, Yangyang. So many things.”
“Oh, yeah, definitely winning in the best friend department too. Wait, technically you’re winning since you have me.”
You laugh, shaking your head at his lax demeanor.
“We’ll go our separate ways next year,” you say, twiddling with your thumbs. It feels somewhat embarrassing to voice it out loud. “I… I don’t want to be alone.”
“You’ll always have the city,” he says, “wherever you go.”
You frown. That’s not the answer you wanted to hear.
“But… I hope I’ll be there too.”
He smiles awkwardly, exhaling too fast and looking away.
“Now, if I hog the kitchen, Taro will glare at me the whole morning,” he says quickly. “It’s not a comfortable feeling, let me tell you. He looks all harmless but when he’s mad he’s so passive-aggressive.”
You smile. “Alright. I hope your room isn’t as much of a mess as your hair is.”
Yangyang reaches to fix his hair, confused. “What’s wrong with my hair? I just dyed it, you know?”
“I can see that.”
Yangyang’s room is, in fact, more of a mess than he is. There’s clothes on the floor, his notebooks aren’t organized on his desk and you’re sure he doesn’t even have a working pen. His laptop is on the bed, along with an indistinct collection of chargers. The only thing that’s organized is his shoe rack, and somehow the inside of his closet, whose door is wide open.
“Sorry,” he says. “I was reorganizing.”
“Ah. This kind of suits you though.”
“You’re so mean. Here I am trying to get better but you just want to drag me back into the depths of despair.”
“Misery likes company.”
“Oh, right. Miss Prom Queen has a mental breakdown every other week. I think I’m better off actually.”
You punch his shoulder, laughing with him.
You sit cross-legged on his bed, the only corner that hasn’t been touched by whatever you’d call the opposite of the Midas touch. His blanket is soft and surprisingly doesn’t smell. You pull it closer to you.
“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, clearing the rest of the stuff on his bed.
“You know, the usual. Exam stress, assignments due, my ex is an asshole, social media sucks.”
And you. I want you near me all the time. I think of you when I’m happy, when I’m sad. I’m in love with you.
“Ah, sucks,” he says, hands busy with the quick cleaning. “You know you’re above all of that, right? But like, I can help you destroy your ex’s self-esteem if you want. I’ve been practicing my rap.”
You smack your forehead. “You are not doing rap battles with my ex, Yangyang.”
“Why not?” He crosses his arms, so offended.
You shake your head. “But you’re right. I am above them.”
“Hell yeah, pop off, queen.”
“It sounds weird when you say it out loud.”
Your eyes wander, settling on the back of his door. There’s a wall hanger on the wooden door, and on it is a familiar piece of clothing. It's a corduroy jacket, the one you bought him in freshman year. You didn't realize so much would change in three years.
“Hey, (name),” Yangyang calls, sitting beside you on the bed with a little too much gusto. He hits the back of his head against the wall and yelps, your hand automatically reaching out to soothe the part.
“Anyway,” he says, “let’s ignore that.”
“Yeah, you’ve hit your head too many times for me to remember each time anyway..”
He rolls his eyes. “You were the one that used to fall off the swings and start bawling. And that was every day.”
You laugh at the memory. Nothing in the past ever seems painful. Maybe you’ll view all your college breakdowns with less anguish in the far future too. The thought cheers you up.
“I wish I was a kid again,” you say, smiling fondly at the little memories that pass you by. Somehow, Yangyang plucks each of them and puts himself in them.
“I don’t,” he says, chuckling. “You were so violent. Remember when you hit me because I rejected your marriage proposal? That hurt like a bitch.”
“You said you’d marry me first.”
“Gee, looks like you’ve always had a troubled love life, (name). Twice divorced by the same man.”
“I would never marry a wimp. You cried at the playground every day—and not even because you fell off the swing. And then you were a nerd in middle school. You were a slightly less awkward nerd in high school.”
He straightens, patting his biceps. “I’m buff now.”
You pat his shoulders with pity. “You will never be Dejun.”
He pouts. “And you’ll always have boy problems.”
You throw your head back, groaning. “I’m not getting into another roasting session with you. Let’s just call it a tie.”
“Speaking of which…”
You look at him and get a nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach. He has a feline smile yet there is some distance within his eyes, as though he’s thinking far ahead—the way he looks when he codes and solves particularly tough challenges. You like it. It’s like glancing through a telescope at stars.
"How about I choose your next guy for you?"
You curl your lips. “Hell, no. Ugh, you have straight boy taste in men.”
“That was the most offensive thing you could respond with, thanks.”
You miss his bed. Not this particular one. But the one you used to hang out on back in your city. You’ve made countless (terribly-shaped) tents on it, with the soft toys neatly arranged inside by Yangyang. You still get embarrassed when you think you actually played house with him. He’d started crying when you said you’d marry him, and you punched him for that.
You look at the corduroy jacket again. You got him several patches for it too, so now it’s as decorated as his laptop. From a Hello Kitty patch to a NASA one, it’s a mess of all the lovely things that remind you of Yangyang. (Though, you think you should've gotten him perfume instead. You’re glad he smells like fresh laundry now.) More than a jacket, the thing is a scrapbook. Jaemin said Yangyang scribbled some notes about you on the inside—but you’re not allowed to see. Now’s not the time to think about it though. There’s another memory hatching in your mind.
“Yangyang,” you call. “Are you still ticklish near your stomach?”
“What? No. What kind of a loser is ticklish ne—ahahaha! What the fuck, (name)?”
He wheezes, trying to get your hands away from him but you press on in quicker attacks. Finally getting a grip on your wrists, he pushes you down on the bed so you can’t move. It might look like a move with many flaws but he’s pretty adept at restricting your movement. It’s also the worst possible position to get caught in someone’s bedroom. Your ear tips feel singed.
"Get off, asshole."
"Make me, swetheart."
You struggle but he’s using his whole body weight to pin you down. You knew you should’ve done some resistance training at the gym your roommate goes to.
“I could kick you where the sun doesn’t shine, you know?”
Yangyang opens his mouth, paling a bit. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Annoy me enough and I will.”
“But you were gonna be someone precious to my children.”
“Ew. I’m doing the world a favor by making sure there’s no mini-yous running around and wreaking havoc.”
“If anything, you’re the one with the wreaking havoc gene.”
There’s a pause, his eyes scouring your face. You get the vague smell of washed laundry again. The clothes he’s changed into seem a bit old and worn out, the blue of his T-shirt gone from a bright ocean blue to something of a sorry paint job in the questionable part of town. But you remember when he got it, in high school during the sports festival. He didn’t even win it—they were giving it out for free. The days felt so carefree back then. You wonder if you’d said anything about these late-blooming feelings of yours if you’d realized in middle school or even high school. You wonder if he’d take you seriously.
"If we weren't best friends, would you fall in love with me?" He says all of a sudden, voice quiet.
You fell in love with him regardless.
“What?” You gulp back your surprise. “Is- Is that your way of annoying me?”
“No. Genuine question.”
Really, fuck Yangyang and his honey brown eyes.
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
Yangyang hums. “Well, you sure you don’t want me to get you a new guy? I’ve got the perfect candidate.”
“Yangyang, don’t be an idiot..”
"Oh come on, now. He's cute and handsome and perfect actually. He's also funny and smart. Okay, not that smart but mostly smart—"
"Yangyang, I swear to god if you don't drop this stupid new expedition of yours."
"I am one hundred percent sure you'd like him."
You roll your eyes. "Oh? Who is this seemingly perfect guy I've been missing my whole life?"
You blink, eyes widening at the seriousness of his tone. His lips part slightly and his eyes are relaxed with soft strands falling over them, almost as if he knows, knows how much you like him.
"You're- you're- don't mess around, Yangyang. We're a little too old—"
"Too old for what? I'm in love with you."
“Yangyang,” you whisper, eyes widening.
“I want to kiss you against the wall so bad right now.”
Before you know it, you’ve pulled him by the collar into a searing kiss. Your fingers run through his hair, soft and long, while his hands balance his frame over you. Soon, he is kissing you against the wall, fingers interlocked and hands beside your head. You think you’re dreaming at first—a nasty, embarrassing, way too pleasurable dream.
But then he pulls apart and looks at you with the gentlest of smiles.
“I love you,” you blurt before you can think it through. You don’t think either of you have ever said that as best friends. It’s funny that you’ll say it for the first time as lovers.
He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“Ew,” you exclaim.
“You’re not allowed to say that, you like—no, love me.”
You feel a rush of heat to your face. Though, from Yangyang’s cherry red cheeks, you assume you’re not the only one.
“You’re just somehow desirable to me.” You roll your eyes.
He grins at you. “Maybe another kiss will make you forget your stupid big words.”
“You think desirable is a big word? I am so—mm.”
Yangyang cuts off your declaration of disappointment with another kiss, and you melt right in much to your dismay. Whatever restraint you had left has been frayed throughout.
“What did you write inside the jacket?”
“Oh, the stupid jacket?”
“It’s not stupid!”
Yangyang chuckles. His arms are around your waist and he’s barely awake but he never takes his eyes away from you.
“Wait, is that a grocery list?”
You glare at him.
“Only on the sleeves because I kept forgetting! The rest is all the stuff you keep mentioning, makeup and squishmallows and notebooks. You know, when I’m the next Zuck—not as creepy and robotic though—I can buy you everything you like.”
Your heart skips a beat before it can beat steady. You laugh, trying to ignore the warmth blooming under your skin. “You need a job first, Yang.”
“Oh, right, I applied and got into all the companies you got in.”
You stare at him. “You never tell me anything!”
“Surprise!” He says, a boyish half smile following.
You press your lips together. Even if he were to go somewhere far, you believe that it wouldn’t change much. With Yangyang, you’re up for new things and new experiences and new love. Your best friend may not be the brightest when it comes to some things (choosing perfume, choosing male bachelors, cooking just about anything other than rice), but he’s the Polaris to you. You’re sure now that you will be looking back at all of this without ever remembering the worries and pain in the distant future. (Maybe, just maybe Yangyang will do the same.)
Haven't been able to stop thinking about making another period piece, but this time, The Wild West! I've been on a real Sam high lately and I can't stop thinking about how perfect long haired Sammy would look dressed as a cowboy, so I thought this would be a good story for him, plus I'm from the south so this was a lot of fun to write.
You and your least favorite cowboy on the ranch have to ride out on a cattle drive alone together until one night tensions run high under the moonlight.
Word count: 9.9K (this is becoming a pattern)
WARNING: 18+ Minors DNI, Enemies to lovers smut, but make it a western. Swearing, alcohol, minor injury, fingering, light spanking, raw doggin' (wrap before you tap it with a cowboy babes).
Pairing: Cowboy!Sam x female reader
Let me know what you think, I love hearing from y'all! Let me know if you wanna be tagged in a future post and hit up my messages if you want a request for a future story! YEEHAW!
Neon Moon- S.F.K
If you had half a mind you would have turned tail at even the mention of being alone with Sam Kiszka. If you hadn’t cared so much about your job and the ranch you work for you would’ve told that cattleman he could kiss your ass if he thought the two of you would even spend an hour alone together without fighting. But the thought of being stuck with any other ranch hand also made your skin crawl. These cowboys are far from gentlemen, being the only woman on the ranch was hard enough, but you’d think their mommas would’ve given them some sort of clue how to behave around a woman. They all underestimated you and your skill to hold your own when it came to riding on the range, treating you like a little girl who needed help or just a piece of ass meant to be objectified, but more than enough times you had reminded them you're a damn good shot in a showdown and not to be messed with. You’d done plenty of cattle rides in your career but usually it's quite a bigger posse, but the night before the excursion, you and the other guys decided to go to a local watering hole you and your “compatriots” called home. The usual sort were there, all seemed about the same old same old when you decided you could out drink one of your asshole ranch hands who had been giving you shit all week, calling you, ‘babygirl’ anytime you talked to him in front of the other ranchers.
“You know what, Gonzalez, I’ll show you I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be, and a finer woman than you’ll ever get. Line’em up!” You challenged the mustached, leather skinned cowboy as the bartender lined up shot glasses of tequila. Sam amongst the other cowboys sat at the table, cheering you on as you and Gonzalez made your way to the bar. Sam rubbed your shoulders like a coach hyping up his boxer ready to enter the ring. The only good thing about Sam was he was the least terrible amongst the other ranchers, but that was not saying much. He thinks very highly of himself, too good with the women in the saloon, constantly getting into petty arguments over things that shouldn’t matter and he was very particular about the oddest things. But, Sam was the only rancher not in or near his forties, so you found that you and Sam would hang back and let the older ranchers talk when you went out on your days off or riding the range. If someone asked if you and Sam were friends you would probably laugh, he wasn’t your friend per say but you didn’t dislike his company either, you got along pretty well until he would say something stupid then you remembered why you hated cowboys.
“You got this no problem, Gonzalez can’t hold his liquor for shit.” Sam leaned in to whisper in your ear as the last of the glasses were being poured. “Yeah well this ought to show him, I ain’t no lil girl.” You grabbed your first glass of your row of tequila shots, hoisting it in the air at Gonzalez and the other cowboys, tapping the bottom end on the table and tossing the whole drink back in one go. The burn of the liquor felt good, lighting the fire of anger in your belly as you slammed the glass upside down on the bar, “And I sure as shit ain’t his baby neither.” you hissed to Sam, his eyes wide from your unphased demeanor, mouth hanging in an impressed smirk. Gonzalez gave you a cocky grin, you knew he had to be joking, he picked up his glass and took it one gulp, a pained expression on his face from the clear liquor screaming down his throat. Sam and the other cowboys cheered on Gonzalez and you as you pounded through four more shots, Gonzalez and you finally on your last glass. You felt drunk as a skunk already but you stayed composed, but Gonzalez looked like he could have been knocked over by the breeze of the wind coming through those saloon doors. You and Gonzalez clinked your glasses and threw your shots back, you can hardly taste the liquor at this point, your throat just felt on fire as though you just finished screaming at the moon like a coyote. Gonzalez held the drink in his mouth for too long, not able to bring himself to swallow the agave liquor, instead he spun away to puke his guts out all over the wooden floor. Sam gripped your wrist and thrust it into the air, “We have a winner ladies and gentleman!” Sam announced proudly to the other patrons at the bar who looked less than interested in your victory. “I don’t think he’ll be messing with you anymore, sunshine.” Sam winked at you with a smile. Oh yeah, the nicknames, he does that a lot, but never like Gonzalez or some of the other cowboys did, he meant them in an endearing way, you almost liked it.
You swaggered up to a still puking Gonzalez, holding himself up weakly by leaning against the bar. “Look who the baby is now.” you boast as you kick Gonzalez in the ass, falling to the ground in his own vomit with your boot. He lands with a thud, knocking into a man not belonging to your group, spilling his ale all down his shirt. He’s a mean looking one, silver gray hair slick to his head, deep wrinkles set in his face, a twisted look in his face as he turns to look at you with a scowl, “Keep your trash on your side of the bar, bitch.” the man spits back at you as he sizes you up. You bow up your chest as you step toward the guy, but before you can say a word, Sam is already in front of you, “You better watch your fuckin’ mouth.” Sam threatens as he steps up to the man, standing just about eye to eye with the man. “Only thing I’m gonna watch is your teeth hitting the floor, you little shit.” The man intimidates, his arm rears back and is thrown forward, Sam dodges just in time for another cowboy from your group to turn from the bar and right into that punch, his two beer glasses shatter to the floor but the cowboy doesn’t falter, he throws his own punch back, slamming into the silver haired man in the nose. The bar turns into a full on brawl, the cowboys versus the silver haired man’s posse. Sam is at your side in an instant, he jerks you by your wrist right before you could get tangled in the scuffle, pulling you out the front swinging saloon doors to your horses waiting out front, tied to the bars hitching post. He unties your horse, Houston, as well as his own chestnut horse, Red. You stumble to your horse, attempting to put your foot in the stirrup but you fall hard to the dirt with a laugh, you’re hammered. “Come on ya drunk.” Sam helps you up to your feet, leading you to his horse, hoisting you up with ease on the back of the saddle, ‘fuck he’s strong’, you think to yourself as you swayed in your seat. Sam ties your horse’s reins to the horn of the saddle of his own horse, allowing him to lead your horse.
Sam pulls himself up to sit in the saddle, the sound of breaking glass, shouting and gunfire as the fight in the bar turned up to ten, “You better not fall off or I’m leaving you where you land.” Sam informs as you lean up against his back, wrapping your arms around his waist, his hands pull you to hold on tighter, you hold on as tightly as you can without hurting him as Sam’s spurs command his horse to run, leading your horse alongside, heading back to the ranch. The cool wind on your face sobering you up, as does the feeling of being on the back of a speeding horse, but the warmth of Sam’s back through his shirt pulls you back to the comfort of the alcohol in your system. The best way to describe being on the back of a speeding horse is like being on a runaway train but having Sam anchoring you to the spot makes you feel as safe as could be. The wind in Sam’s long hair plays on your cheeks, tickling them as you ride through the dark of the night towards the ranch.
Sam pulls slowly at the reins signaling his horse to come to a canter as you two ride through the gates and down the path to the bunkhouses where you and the cowboys stayed. Small cabin-like homes lined up along the road as you came closer to your home, Sam slows you two to a walk as his horse tromps up the grass outside your house to your hitching post. “We’re home. You’re not dead back there are ya?” Sam asks, craning his neck to see you. You attempt to sit up with a groan of drunken irritation but end up nearly
falling backward off his horse, you end up back where you started, grinning widely as your cheek lands pressed against Sam’s strong back, he laughs at your level of drunkenness. “You gotta let go of me, I can’t sleep on a saddle, trust me, I've tried.” Sam jokes, his hands coming to yours wrapped around his waist, you had been holding your own wrist to give you a tight grip around Sam’s middle, his hands gently encouraging your hands to fall away. Sam slides down the side of his saddle and to the ground, boots hitting the grass with a thud. He puts his arms out to help you down, but with your drunk pride you ignored his help, you kick your leg over the saddle carefully, now in a side saddle position as you go to slide down the side but you trip over your feet when your boots hit the ground, sending you straight into Sam’s arms, falling against his chest. He catches you from falling, but he’s so close to you now, ‘his eyes are such a pretty shade of brown in the moonlight, so dark, much darker than the golden hue they have during the day’, you observe with a stupid grin and a chuckle at his proximity. “Careful there sunshine, you trying to start another bar fight knockin’ fellas over like that?” Sam jokes but his eyes don’t leave yours, the two of your smiles drop as you both look at each other, “Maybe I like causing trouble.” you push off his chest, and stagger back on your two feet, keeping eye contact with his dark brown eyes, turning away only to walk up the steps of your front porch. “I’ll see ya in the morning, cowboy.” you salute as you open your screen door, “Yeah I’ll take Houston up to the barn, you just sleep that tequila off, cowgirl.” Sam smiles, mirroring your goofy salute, walking off towards the barn, horses in tow. You entered your dark house, not bothering to light up a candle as you tugged off your boots, falling face first into your pillow. Your eyes flutter closed, the memory of Sam’s face in the moonlight played underneath your eyelids.
That next morning you were met with more than just one headache, the bar fight ended with the cowboys from the ranch getting corralled by the sheriff and his deputies, some pretty badly beaten in the fight, all hauled off to the drunk tank. You felt bad but worse when the cattleman informed you that they wouldn’t be released in time and some wouldn’t be fit to ride for this drive. So it was just you and Sam for the journey, miles and miles of open plains with an insufferable loud mouth and a whole week to never hear the end of how this was your fault. Luckily the job consists of the two of you riding up to another ranch, Silver Creek Ranch, to relieve an incoming cattle drive from out of state and their crew to bring that cattle back home. It's a job meant for at least ten men but that ranch will have to supply the other hands due to your saloon disaster. You and Sam load up your packs and provisions and hit the trail before noon. You can’t help but think about last night, what was that moment you two had outside of your place? It must be nothing, you were drunk, you probably read the situation all wrong, for god sake this was Sam?! He was more akin to saloon girls, not you, besides, Sam is the worst, he’s annoying, and he’s self absorbed. You knew all of these things, but why couldn’t you stop thinking of the smell of him through his shirt when you rode home last night?
The sun hung high and hot in the sky today, you tipped back your cantine of water, sipping the cool drink. This is just the first day of this leg of the trip, Silver Creek was a four days ride, plenty of time to think and clear your mind. “I hope that’s just water in there, sunshine.” Sam called from ahead of you, “I don’t wanna hear a word outta you about last night.” You snarled back, closing the lid of your cantine tightly. The heat and daylight was killing your head that was pounding underneath your hat, you tipped your Steson to shade your eyes from the light of the scorching sun. “You don’t wanna talk about how you were three sheets to the wind?” “No.” “Fine, just don’t puke like Gonzalez.” you rolled your eyes with a grin as you swayed with the rhythm of your horse's gait. The day was long and hot, Sam filled the air with old bar songs and stories you never even asked to hear, all about his brothers you’d never met, but at least he could provide some sort of entertainment. The sun on your horse was making you hot too, his black coat only pulled more of the heat to radiate against your legs. The sun against your back had you sweating something awful, you unbutton your shirt revealing most of your bra and torso, glistening with sweat from the heat, you took your hat off and fanned yourself, the cool air felt incredible on your hot skin. Sam eyed you from the side, he had fallen behind, catching up to get a better look. “You alright? Not gonna die of a heat stroke are ya?” Sam asked with real concern in his voice, looking at you like you had lost your mind. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed Sam, but it's hot as hell out.” you shot back as you ran your hand through your hair, getting the sticking strands out of your face. “Besides, I don’t have to worry about prying eyes from those jackass cowboys back home. I’m not bothering you, am I Sammy?” you fluttered your lashes at him with that nickname you had never used before and wanted to test the waters. Was last night all in your head or did he remember that moment too? Sam’s mouth opened and stuttered searching for an answer, “N-No it’s fine! I’m fine! Fine with me!” He smiled widely but his eyes were full of nervous energy, trying to compose himself. Sam didn’t like not knowing what to say, he never had issues with the women at the saloons, so why did this make him so awkward? You smirked looking at the horizon, he cleared his throat, “There's a creek coming up here in a few miles, we can camp there tonight.” “Yeah, it’s starting to get close to the evening’ anyway.”
The two of you reached a pretty serene spot near the edge of the creek, a few tall oak trees allowed you some shade and wood for a fire, plush with green grass, a perfect place to make camp for the night. You and Sam got to the task of unsaddling the horses, knowing damn well they’d be happy to rest and drink from the creek and wander about for a while. Sam set up both of your separate tents while you got to work on a stew over the fire. Adding the freshly cut onion, carrots and potatoes to the boiling pot when you hear a splash from behind you. You turn to see both horses looking in the direction of the creek too when a head pops up from the water. “You scared the hell outta me! I thought you fell in!” You shout walking to the water's edge, your boot stepping on something soft stops you dead in your tracks. A pile of Sam’s clothes. “Oh…” you said in dismay as you looked at Sam in the water, pushing his long wet hair out of his face, he chuckled at your reaction. “Like you said, it's hot out.'' He splashed at you, the water barely making it to wet your boots. “I thought you were making camp?” “It's all set! How’s supper comin’?” “Boiling away!” “Then come on in, the water's fine!” He shouted back, you stared down at your boots, at the water Sam splashed you with. “Bring me that bar of soap from my pack will ya? I’m sure you could use a good scrubbin’ from that heat today, I don’t want to be stuck with your stink tomorrow.” He was good at being very convincing, you were hot and that water looks mighty cool and refreshing. “Fuck.” you let out an exasperated sigh, heading to his pack to grab the soap. You white knuckled the bar as you walked over to the edge of the creek, took in a breath as you looked at Sam, eyeing you from the water. “Fine, but don’t look!” you shouted across the creek, pointing a finger at him. “Ha! Don’t flatter yourself. What am I supposed to do then?” “I don't know! Enjoy the scenery?” “Not the scenery I’d like to be enjoying.” Sam whispered to himself as he turned away, too far away for you to hear.
You made your way out of your button down, toeing off your boots and tugging your pants down, all the while keeping an eye on the back of Sam’s head to ensure he kept his promise. You took a deep breath before finally taking off your bra and underwear, the cooler evening air blew softly against your body. The breeze made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire, as you stepped into the creek, the cool water felt good on your aching body. You held onto the soap as you swam to Sam, the ripples in the water signaled to him you were close to him now. “Here.” you said almost shyly as you handed him the bar, he went to turn to take it from you. “Don’t look!” you squealed as he squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m not gonna look! You're the one who said-” “I didn't say to turn around!” You splashed at him, a smile wide across his face, “Okay fine, I’ll close my eyes and you can hand me the soap, okay?” “Okay.” you agreed as you timidly swam up beside him. Just the look of him like this was beautiful, the golden glow against the sunshine on his skin, you never really noticed what a beautiful body Sam had, then again, he did always have his shirt almost always undone when he was working in the summer months and you hate to admit that you’ve been caught by him a few times staring at him. But here he was, so toned and muscular, ranching does a body good. His jawline is sharp and well defined, his eyes peacefully closed, long hair wet and wild even though he’s tried to fix it from his dip in the creek. You put out your arm, tenderly grabbing his arm to keep you from having to wade through the water since you couldn’t touch the creek floor like Sam. He jumps at the contact, “Hold out your hand.” you request him and he does so, you rest the bar of soap in his hand and swim to be behind him.
“You can open your eyes.” you inform him as you lay back to float in the water, wetting your hair and enjoying the calm of the creek and the beautiful sunset over the trees. The two of you in a comfortable silence as you both wash the day away. “Your turn.” Sam says holding the bar in the air, you swim over to him, “You can turn around, I can’t really reach the bottom here.” you tell him, your head just bobbing above the surface. “You sure?” Sam asks nervously, “Yeah, pretty sure you can’t see much of me anyway.” You assure him letting him turn around, you can tell he’s hesitant but you smile at him as he hands you the soap. “I’m gonna get out and get dressed, pretty sure I can smell supper is about done, I’ll go check.” Sam says but he’s glued to his spot, just like how he was last night. You give him a smile as you look into his golden brown eyes, he just gives you a small smirk, “I’ll leave you a towel by the waters edge.” he whispers timidly as he swims away. You smile to yourself as you wash your body, you can’t help but giggle to yourself knowing you saw Sam blush before swimming back to shore.
You make your way to the edge of the water, it is incredibly shallow so you peek up to see a mostly dressed Sam at the fire with his back to you, clad only in pants, stirring the stew in the cast iron pot in the fire, sipping from the ladle. You reach your towel Sam had left you and wrap yourself tightly in its warmth as you make your way to your tent to change into fresh clothes, fetching your warm comfy poncho and pants. Soon you emerge to take a seat by the fire close to Sam as he ladles you a bowl of stew. “Look at you, all bright, shiny and new, hm?” Sam smiles as he hands you your portion, “Yeah, I feel like a whole new woman.” You grin back at him, shaking your hair dramatically behind you. You outstretch your hands, receiving the comforting warm bowl. “I told you it’d be fine, I don’t bite.” “No, but Houston does.” you smirk looking up over Sam’s shoulder, your horse huffing out next to him. “Son of a bitch!” Sam nearly spills his hot stew all over himself as he jumps from the sudden presence of the nearly thousand pound animal beside him. You chuckle out a hearty laugh from his shock, “Ugh, you gotta get a bell on that thing!” He shouts, calming down from the scare as Houston walks away to a much more interesting spot of grass to munch on. “Don’t be mad because you know my horse is faster than yours.” “Have you always been such a snob?” Sam laughs and takes a spoonful of stew to his lips. “Snob?!” You exclaim in utter confusion. “Yeah you always talk down on Red all because he’s a quarter horse.” “I can’t help it that Arabians are just better.” “He’s a fine horse, he’s nothing special.” Sam rolls his eyes, popping a bite of potato in his mouth. “Arabians were bred for war! They’re faster and have more endurance than your quarter horse!” “They’re race horses!” “Yeah, not work horses-” “Uh huh, they can out run any other horse within a quarter of a mile! They start fast and are easier to stop!” Sam interrupts you with such an intensity you can only laugh at him, arguing over horses.
“You will never convince me otherwise, Kiszka.” you smile as you slurp up your stew. “Red is the one that got your drunk ass home yesterday before you had the chance to get shot, ya know why?” he points his finger at you inquisitively, you roll your eyes as you look at him, already knowing what he’s going to say. “Because he’s fast?” “Because he’s fast!” he shouts, raving with a huge smile like a lunatic. “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree, then.” you compromise, taking another bite of your dinner. The two of you chatted like this for a while, it was nice, even if he was a bit stubborn but then again, so are you.
The sun goes down leaving you chilled even through the fabric of your poncho, you take a deep breath, breathing in the scent of the material. You and the rest of the cowboys including Sam had to go down through Mexico for a drive once and you didn’t expect that the night would have been so cold in the desert of Chihuahua that Sam gave you the poncho he had just bought when you were in the market that day. He had told you not to mention it, he said he just couldn’t sleep hearing your teeth chatter but you knew well enough, no cowboy would go out of his way like that for you, no other cowboy besides Sam. “Glad to see you’re still enjoying my poncho.” Sam smirks to himself as you hold it tighter to yourself, “Yeah I take it on every ride now.” you smile at him. “Well, I was looking very much to wearing that, looks better on you though.” he unscrews his flask and tips it back, wincing slightly at the taste. You blush heavily at his compliment, those don’t come easily from Sam. You yawn and give a bit of a stretch, “Well, me and my poncho here are gonna hit the hay.” You tell him as you stand, he follows you to the tents. “Yeah, me too. Big day tomorrow and all.” He says awkwardly as you both stand outside of your respective tents. The two of you just look at each other and smile, he looks like he’s thinking of what to say but nothing comes out, the air hot with tension, stronger than the night before. You look at how far his tent is and you start to wish it was just a bit closer to yours, his hair blowing gently off its resting place from the wind, how you wish that it was your hand that brushed it away from his shoulder. You snap back to reality as the wind whips your hair against your cheek, “Goodnight, Sam.” You whisper as you turn to open the flap of your tent, “Goodnight.” He simply says, smiling an almost disappointed smile at you. You fall to your sleeping bag, rolling over to stare at your tent's ceiling. “I’m an idiot.” you breathe into the silence of the clothed shelter. Sam fucking Kiszka? This was who you were losing sleep over? You couldn't believe it. He’s such a prick? But the way his skin glowed under the sunset, the water glittering light all over his body, his golden skin, the beautiful outline of his jaw. What would have happened if you let him open his eyes?
The next morning comes and you can’t help but feel anxious to get going, you need to do something to get your mind off of that damn smile Sam gave you last night. What did he want to say? What would you have said? You make yourself busy by rolling up your sleeping bag and packing up to leave. “Good morning, sunshine.” Sam smiles at you from his place next to the small fire, pulling the coffee kettle out of the hot coals. “You made coffee?” you asked, blinking in the daylight. “Yeah, figured you’d be in need of some pep in your step this morning. I’ve been up for a while, didn’t really sleep last night.” he slipped out, your breath hitched in your throat at this confession. “Oh? Really, why?” You prodded, wondering if it was the same reason you had trouble calming your own mind. “Uh, nothing, just couldn’t turn my brain off I guess.” he laughs out, only confirming to you your suspicions. You just smile to yourself as he hands you a tin cup of piping hot black coffee, not your favorite but it gets the job done.
The two of you finish packing and head out on the horizon ahead. The heat is almost just as bad as yesterday, you watch as you see Sam riding high on Red, letting the reins rest in his lap as he plays with his long hair, tying it up in a bun, messy and careless. It's gorgeous. The way he leans his head back, eyes closed, the protrusion of his adam’s apple stunning as his neck is on full display, a denim pearl snap shirt billowing in the breeze, a short necklace of some brown stone rests just below his beautiful collar bones, glistening with sweat. You can feel your mouth hanging open, it’s almost as sinful as him being naked in that creek yesterday. You shake your head of your thoughts as you stare back at the land ahead of you.
“Aren’t you hot?” He asks you, fixing some of the remaining pieces of hair dangling in his face and picking the reins back up. “Oh yeah it’s a scorcher.” You say in a way that doesn’t sound like you are trying and failing at calming your racing heart. “I promise I won’t judge you for unbuttoning your shirt like you did yesterday. I think it’s probably a bad idea to stay so buttoned up like that, you could get a heat stroke. I have some more water too if you’d like?” Sam offered kindly, you just shook your head. “No, I’ve got plenty of water. But, uh, yeah even this white shirt is making me hot.” You acknowledge, your fingers undo your shirt, this time unbuttoning it all the way, and tying the shirt around your waist, your skin automatically cooler now that it's been freed from the stuffy material, save for your bra. You smile at Sam, now that both of you were nearly at the same level of skin exposed. This area wasn’t as fertile with trees or greenery, making the surrounding area so much more brutal. You dodged a fair few snakes and weaved past cacti to get through the desert. The breeze picking back up allowed you to put your shirt back on, carrying on as you made your way deeper into the sandy waste land. The expanse of the desert was vast, the unending nature of the surrounding red dirt, boulders and mountain ranges was beautiful but the heat was infinite. The sun was making its way down and the two of you had to stop for the night.
The heat hadn’t even subsided in the night, the worst kind of weather to sleep in. You and Sam set up a fire as your nails scratched at the itching skin of your shoulder. “Ugh, fuck me.” You groaned in disappointment pushing the fabric of your shirt past your shoulder, “Ha, you’ll have to ask nicer than that.” Sam laughed as he snapped a stick over his knee, “What?” Your eyes shot wide as you looked up at him, “N-no, I got sunburned.” You explained as you could feel the heat of the irritated skin on your hand as you touched your shoulder, wincing at the feeling. “Let me see.” Sam walks over to you by the crackling fire, too dark now to see well from afar. “Ooh that’s a bad one.” He confirms as he moves your hair off of your shoulder for a better inspection. “Yeah it hurts like hell.” you complain. Sam lays a blanket out on the dusty hard desert ground. “I have just the trick to remedy your pain there cowgirl.” He smiled as he pointed a finger to you. “What is it? Whiskey?” You joked doubtfully at Sam’s idea, “That too, but no. Come take a seat.” he instructs, gesturing to the blanket. The full moon was so perfectly lit for the occasion, allowing you more vision rather than just the light from the fire alone. You take Sam’s hand as he helps you onto the blanket below, you smile at the feeling of his hand in yours. “Such a gentleman.” You jest with a sweet and uppity accent as you take your seat on the covered floor. “I have my moments.” He says, mirroring your tone, fluttering his lashes at you, he turns to grab his pack near his tent, pulling out his flask, he unscrews the lid and takes a gulp, exhaling harshly from the taste of the whiskey. “Here, I think you’ve earned it.” he smirks as he extends the flask to you, you take the silver flask from him, your fingers grazing his own as you receive it, making you nervous for no reason. You take a shot of the whiskey, you exhale a sigh of relief from the taste and the warm feeling it brings as it slides easily down your throat. “Gimme just a second.” He adds, wandering off to the edge of your camp. He walks over to a spiky plant and pulls out his knife, slicing off a piece of it. He makes his way back to you, taking a seat on the blanket across from you, crossing his legs to match your own position, “Let me see your sunburn?” Sam asks kindly, the blue of the moonlight on one side of his face while the other half of him is lit by the warm glow of the fire, he looks stunning. The butterflies in your stomach stir as you undo your shirt for him, he puts his hand on yours, “You don’t have to take the whole thing off if you don't want to?” he voices, concerned to make you uncomfortable. “No, it's fine, I mean you’ve seen me before, besides, it's medicine right?” You assure him, he was right though, you had been in your bra twice now in front of him, but he was farther away and it wasn’t this intimate. Your heart flutters at his kindness, so worried he would make you upset. You nod at him, he takes his hand away, you almost miss his touch as you continue to unbutton your top. You wince as the shirt unsticks from your body, Sam slices the plant in half longways, he peels the thing apart, it’s slick and slippery looking. “What is it?” “Aloe Vera.” he says, taking the open plant in his hand, setting the other half on the blanket. “I’ll have to rub the stuff on your sunburn.” He informs you, suggesting that you readjust how you’re sitting. You turn around, facing away from him, giving him full access to your shoulders and back, his fingers brush your hair off your shoulders and to the side, you're glad that you’re no longer facing him because you can feel your face glow with blush.
“Oh yeah it’s pretty red.” “I always get sunburned on my shoulders, that's where all of those freckles came from.” You explain, you’ve always loved the freckles on your shoulders, it was a beautiful reminder that pretty things come from pain. “I like your freckles, I saw them yesterday when we were in the creek.” He says fondly, “They’re pretty.” He breathes, almost to himself but you catch it and grin widely. He takes his hand and rubs the aloe smoothly across your reddened skin. You shiver from the chill that runs down your skin at the contact of the cold plant. “Sorry, it’s cold, it’ll help cool down your skin, it should help take the heat out.” He explains as he slowly goes over the nape of your neck and to your other shoulder. “Where did you learn this from?” You inquire, holding your hair in your hands to keep it out of his way, you braid it absentmindedly, trying to find something to do with your hands while you try to imagine how he must be looking at you. “A very kind senorita down in Juarez, I had a pretty bad sunburn, so bad I could hardly put my pants on.” “Yeah I bet she didn’t mind that.” You chuckled under your breath, “Ha, no she did not.” He smiled fondly. “Do you mind pulling these down?” Sam asks sweetly as his finger hooks under the strap of your bra and runs it up, the back of his finger running against your warm skin. You shudder a breath at his cool skin in such an enticing way, “Um, yeah, it’d probably be easier to just take it off.” You add, the garment was too tight on your shoulders and the fear of it scraping against the tender skin would be too much. “A-Are you sure?” “Yeah Sam, it’s fine, I’m facing this way anyway, it’ll be just like in the creek, remember?” You reassured him as your fingers go to the clasp on your back but are met by Sam’s hands. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” he offers gently as his fingers masterfully unclasp the material, easing the straps down your shoulders gently, as to not hurt you. You let the material fall away from your body, discarding it near you. Sam lays his hands gently on your shoulders, letting the heat be absorbed into his palms. You let out a moan of relief, it's low and guttural and drags into the air, the feeling of his cool touch working the aloe into your skin feels incredible. Sam’s ears perk up at the sound, it catches him off guard but the sound is so delicious to his ears that he keeps going, “You like that?” he asks in a lower register, softer than how he was speaking before. “Oh fuck yes Sam, God that feels so good.” you can’t help yourself, it's such an incredible feeling, the relief in his touch is intoxicating. Sam comes closer to you, the sound of his name from your voice is enough to have his blood pumping. His hands are slower as though he’s drinking in the feeling of your skin underneath his touch, he’s never touched you like this before, so tender and sweet.
The feeling of nervousness in your stomach is all but dissolved, Sam’s hands massaging your body makes the flame in you burn so hot, you can feel the weight of your nerves fall away, making you feel bolder than anything else. “Sam?” “Yeah?” the two of you whisper, as though the two of you would break this moment with too loud of a sound. “I think you’ve massaged it all in.” You say, peaking over your shoulder at him, his face lit by the moonlight. “Oh, yeah I guess I have.” he says as though he too didn’t realize. “You don’t have to stop.” You say with a seductive tone, “Oh?” He asks, “I like it, feels nice.” you say with a smile, giving him a look through your lashes. His hands resume, fingers running over your bareskin. “You’re so warm.” he whispers, “Your cool hands make it feel so much better.” you moan out, his hands feel so delightful all over your body. Sam’s hands begin to massage over your back, up your sides, up your arms, slowly and deliberately. “You have a bad case of wandering hands, Sam?” you tease at him, leaning into his touch. His hand snakes up your shoulder and your neck, he leans into your ear, his hair brushing over your own shoulders. “I don’t see you complaining about it, do I cowgirl?” his voice rasps sinfully in your ear. The warmth between your legs growing, your whole body is humming with the sensation. “Are you suggesting I want to fuck you Sammy?” You ask, leaning into his touch, tilting your head towards his face. “I think it’s quite obvious darlin’.” Sam says, leaning forward and pressing his lips on your sunburned shoulder. Your heart feels like it's about to pound right through your ribcage, “Well then I hope you got the hint.” You push back, turning your head so you can look right at him. The two of you make eye contact, the air is thick with tension, thicker than it's ever felt before, you’ve reached a boiling point. He makes the move first, his hand still on your neck, pulling you closer to him, finally planting a kiss to your lips. His lips are soft, warm and full, the smell of whiskey on his breath excites you as his tongue passes your lips. His kiss is dominating and feels so good as you just surrender to him.
His hands snake around your sides, grazing across your torso and laying softly on your waist, he breaks the kiss and leans into the shell of your ear “Is this what you were thinking about in the creek yesterday?” he whispers, the feeling sends a tingle down your neck and spine. “Did you think about what it would be like to feel my hands around you when you took your clothes off and swam to me?” His hands run up your sides, dull fingernails sliding up your body, the feeling of the cool night air, Sam’s gravelly voice and his touch hardening your nipples and exciting your skin all over. “I didn’t think you’d have the guts to do it.” You tease him, hoping to push his ego in your favor. “You don’t think I haven’t seen the way your hips roll back and forth when you ride?” He asks as his hands fall to hold your hips tight, making your back arch against him at the feeling of his grip. “The way your breasts bounce when your horse runs, especially when you unbuttoned your shirt yesterday, trying to get my attention.” He says as he brings his hands up to your breasts, squeezing them softly. You gasp at the sensation of his hands, you can’t help but look at his large hands, those gorgeous veins running all across the tops of his skillful hands. You watch as he sweetly massages them, “Worked, didn’t it?” You say slyly at him, watching him work at your chest, “I’ve been thinking of you cowgirl, I just wanted to have you all to myself.” He says as he attaches his lips to your neck, his hands wander down to your pants, “Do you want this too?” He asks before attempting the buckle on your pants, “More than anything.” You answer back, smiling at his still gentleman-like question, he wanted to know you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
His hands work at the fastening on your belt, undoing it and pulling down your pants, you help as you take your boots off and work the pants down your knees, leaving you only in your underwear. He’s still behind you, you lean to sit up against him, his hard body, so muscular and strong against your bare back. “So beautiful like this, with the moon on your skin.'' he says as one hand slides up to your neck while the other rests just above your panties. “So delicate.” he breathes against your ear as he peaks over your shoulder to watch as he slips a hand down over your underwear. You both watch as he places his fingers over your clothed pussy, you take in a soft breath of surprise of the feeling, his warm fingers send a beautiful feeling up your body. The warmth of your arousal presses through the material and onto Sam’s fingertips. “So wet for me already darlin’?” He smiles against your cheek, giving you a kiss on your blushing skin, he watches your expression as he dips his hand into your underwear. Your eyes fluttering as you breathe in a deep but shaky breath, lips part as a breathy moan escapes them. Sam works to etch that memory into his brain, to hold onto that reaction for forever. “You look so pretty when I touch you.” His voice rattles against his throat, his voice like this is so rough and sexy, it only makes you want him more. He slips his fingers between your folds, collecting your arousal as he slides his fingers up. “Oh baby doll you are soaked.” He smiles, you hook your fingers around your underwear and slide the garment down your legs, discarding it with the rest of your clothes, giving him full access to your body. You open your legs wider for him, he slides his fingers up and rolls his fingers over your clit, you moan out at his touch, back arching as he tightens his hold on your neck slightly, the vibrations from your voice against his palm sends a feeling down to his cock, having you under his touch like this, so submissive, so out of character from your strong willed nature. “No one around baby, just you, me, and the desert.” He whispers against your ear, warm breath fanning across your neck. His fingers work in a perfect circle over your clit, begging for more. “Let the desert hear how good you feel.” Sam’s voice says as he moves his hand from your neck to your breast, giving you full permission to be as vocal as you pleased. He slips his fingers into you, “So tight.” “Fuck, Sam.” You moan at the feeling of his presence between your legs. He squeezes your breast in his hand, his lips kissing your neck as the pace of his fingers find a steady rhythm. You rest your head against him, laying softly on his shoulder, you snake a hand behind his head, nails softly scratch at his scalp as you take a fistful of his hair, desperate to hold onto something that will make you feel grounded to the Earth.
His fingers find a faster pace, curling up into a scrumptious ‘come hither’ motion, brushing against your sweet spot and your hips buck instinctually, you moan out his name, he feels incredible. His fingers don’t slow down, the way you’re breathing and the steady flow of his name strung along with the occasional swear is a good indication you’re nearing your peak. Your grip on his hair tightens, as you pull him to you to kiss him, it's a hot and needy kiss, full of desperation from both sides. You are putty in his hands as he pumps his fingers into you, his hand on your breast falls away and comes to your clit. You break the kiss as you throw your head back, “S-Sam, I’m-” “Cum for me darlin’.” he says, allowing you to fully let go. The coil in your stomach releases its tight hold as your legs spread wide and your eyes squeeze closed as your body is wracked by your orgasm. “Ride my fingers baby, let it all go.” He whispers directly into your ear, working you through your climax, you obey his command as you rock back and forth on his fingers, his voice alone could have brought you to this very spot. Sam slowly stops his hands as you twitch beneath him, careful to not overstimulate your body. “Such a good girl for me.” He smiles, pushing another kiss into your neck.
You have to take a moment to catch your breath, the stars are so clear tonight, you feel like you must be in heaven. You turn to finally be face to face with him, he brings his fingers up to his lips, sucking on them until they pull away clean. “You taste beautiful, darlin’.” His eyes dark with lust as he practically moans out the words, making you so much wetter. He’s still completely dressed and the whole time you rode through your orgasm you couldn’t help but think of the way his body looks under that denim shirt. The sight of you must be otherworldly the way Sam is staring at you, naked and on your knees in the middle of the desert with the moon over head and the firelight beside you, face flushed and eyes wide, lips parted with a grin that says, ‘come and take me’. You crawl over to him on all fours, your hands on his thighs, his lips are just a kiss away. “You better fuck as good as you look, Sammy.” you tease, the tone in your voice is dominating but you want him to take control of you, full control. “That was just a hint of what’s to come, sweetheart. You think you can take it?” “I’d like to see if you could try to tame me, baby.” You taunt back, his eyebrow lifts slightly as a smirk plays on his lips, accepting your challenge with a kiss. It’s different from the kiss you shared with him earlier, it’s slower, it feels so much more intimate. You sit up, holding his face in your hands as you make your way to sit on his lap, wrapping your legs around him and grabbing a fistful of hair as you make yourself comfortable on top of him. He groans against your kiss, the feeling of your naked body sitting in his lap. You grind your hips down on him, rolling back and forth to get some friction to relieve the tension building between your legs again. His hands gently scratches down your back, he settles his arms tightly around your waist. The kiss soon becomes hotter and heavier as you both are in need of the other, craving the feeling of him again. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, gently pulling when a guttural moan rolls up through his throat. The sound makes you grin a devilish smile, releasing the hold on his lip you pull away to look down at his pearl snap shirt, buttoned up too much for your liking, you take both hands and pop the snaps open, exposing that perfectly sculpted torso clad in golden tanned skin. “Fuck, you really need it bad huh, baby?” Sam says, head tilted up to look at you, you can only nod in response, that all too familiar grin on his face. “Let me take care of you then.” He says, slipping the shirt off his shoulders, he leans into your body, taking one of the nipples on your plump breast in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation, his other hand taking up your other breast, playing with the mound of flesh, squeezing roughly. “Fuck Sam.” You groan as you let your head fall back in pleasure as Sam lightly bites down on the hardened bud in his mouth, licking up where he had bitten.
“I need to feel you.” Sam breathes against your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Then take me.” You punctuate by pulling his hair to tilt his head up, to make him look up into your eyes from his position beneath you. He moves one hand from your back to your thigh as he tightens his grip on you to pick you up and lay you down on your back on the blanket below. He holds himself over you to kiss you once more then retreats to unfasten his pants, he wastes no time getting back to you, leaving him in his underwear before you. His cock is strained against the thin fabric, the outline makes your heartbeat quicken, he was much bigger than you anticipated. You looked up at him with parted lips, open in awe as you stared up at him through your lashes. “You’re beautiful.” The words practically falling out of your mouth in a breathy voice. Sam smiled as he came down to kiss you, his hand cupping your jaw as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. His hardened erection pressed against your thigh as he kissed you, you lifted your leg just enough to apply a sweet amount of pressure against him, he moaned into the kiss, a sound you wanted to hear for all time. He finally slid his underwear off, revealing the full size of him in his hand. “Holy shit, Sam, please.” You sighed as he pumped his shaft a few times, “Tell me darlin’, what do you want?” He teased, your core ached for his presence. “You, Sam, I want you to fuck me. I need it bad.” You practically begged, but you didn’t care, you would have sold your own boots if it meant Sam would put you out of your misery and give you what you so desperately needed.
“I can fix that.” He said with a devilish smile, eyes rake over your awaiting body. He leans in close, holding himself over you, his hardened cock teasing your slit. You whine under him, he looks up at your eyes, your brows knit together, eager to take him inside you. “Please Sam.” You cry out, he looks you in the eyes as he slides himself slowly inside of you, inch by perfect inch. The two of you release shaky moans as you both become acclimated to the feeling of each other. “Mmm you feel so fucking good baby.” Sam moans out, his eyes closing in pure bliss as he rolls his head backward. “You’re so big.” You breathe, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of him deep inside you, buried to the hilt. “We can take it slow.” Sam assures, you blush at his thoughtfulness, he may be a gruff cowboy but deep down, he’s a big softie who really just wants to make you feel good. You grip at his hips, pulling him closer to you, signaling him to move. He comes to lean closer to you, kissing your neck to comfort you and push away any discomfort as he begins to thrust slowly. You moan as you rock back into him, the familiar feeling you had been missing out on for so long comes back, you couldn’t remember the last time you had been bedded like this, it took a bit of adjusting but you were back into the flow of him. You claw at his back, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer to you, allowing him to angle deeper inside of you, Sam picks up on your cues and increases his pace, bringing him to a delightful rhythm that has you mewling under him.
“Oh Sam.” you sigh at the feeling of him slamming into you, he’s gorgeous, the way his hair and pendant around his neck sway back and forth with his rhythm is hypnotizing. “You like that darlin’?'' he asks, his voice trembling slightly from his movement as he pounds into you. You can only bite down on your lip and nod to answer him. His grip on your hip is tight, keeping himself grounded to you. “I wanna ride you.” You manage to tell him, he looks at you with a grin as he sits up to hold both of your hips on his hands, you lock your ankles around him and your hands cling to his sides as he lays backward onto the blanket, propping you up on his lap without having to disconnect from him. His hair is splayed out over the blanket, a look of pure desire in his big brown eyes as he looks up at you, mouth parted open as he watches you above him. Your body lit by the blue of the big full moon that hangs over you, you place your hands on his chest, his own hands resting on your hips. You begin to rock yourself back and forth on top of him, he’s deep inside you now, this angle allowing him to be fully buried inside of you. You begin to bounce on top of him, your breasts heaving up and down, up and down as you feel how perfect his cock makes you feel. Sam’s hands run up your thighs and to your ass, squeezing tightly to the mounds of flesh in his hands. His hand rears back and spanks you on the ass, you gasp and smile wide, throwing your head back, his hand gripping tight on the muscle beneath his large hand, the warmth of his palm soothing the sting he had inflicted before. You can’t help but moan out his name, the look on his face was that of pure beauty and ecstasy, he’s stunning, glowing beneath you. The burning in your knees is worth it to feel him hitting your sweet spot like this. “You ride like a fucking angel.” he groans, his eyes closing from the feeling of you on top of him like this. You look up to the moon above you, something about this act under the sky makes you feel like the most human you have ever felt. You lean forward, knees aching from the position you were in, Sam senses your fatigue and grips your ass as he brings his knees up and starts to jackhammer up into you. “Oh fu-fuck.” You cry out into the night as you throw your head back, letting Sam take control, his hand makes his way to your clit, thumb running across it at a pace so perfect you know you’re close. “S-Sam, I’m so close-” “Me too.” He grunts out, eyes screwed closed as he focuses on his pace, you lean back into his thrusts, allowing him to slam into you so deeper and harder. “Fuck-” The words get caught in your throat as Sam’s digit runs over your clit faster. Then all at once, your orgasm hits you hard, harder than before, you clench around him, pulling Sam to his own climax. He’s a whining mess, gripping your thighs tightly as he cums deep inside of you. The sounds of your moans and curses drift into the desert air, floating up to the neon moon above you.
You lay on top of him, your legs quivering beneath you, the two of you gasping for breath. You press a sweet kiss against his neck, almost as a sign of thanks. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, taking in his warm scent, recalling the memory of that night on horse back when he took you home. “So what was that you used to say about hating cowboys?” Sam chuckled with a smile that you could hear in his voice. You sit up wearily and look into his sexed out eyes, “Maybe not all cowboys then.” you smile, planting a kiss on his lips. You roll over and lay next to him, he pulls you close, your head resting on his chest, his arm around your waist, thumb running softly against your skin. You both stare up into the constellations above, listening to the pitter patter of the not so tough cowboy’s heart, drifting to sleep as his fingers played with your hair. This trip may not turn out to be so bad after all.
Hey, would you mind elaborating on your recent Little Women post? I get the meme, like with Jo & Aunt March & the trip to Europe yknow. But I’m curious as to what you’re referring to when you say ‘the point of the book.’ There are a lot of ways one could interpret that and I was just wondering what, in your opinion, the point is
glad you asked.
(this is going to get long so grab a snack or something.)
The thing is that Little Women is a story about FOUR sisters, all four of them, unlike say, Pride and Prejudice, which is clearly a story about Elizabeth Bennet and her personal journey with only a sidelong gaze at the lives of her sisters (clearly deemed inferior to her in wit and personality) or Jane Eyre, which is a fictional autobiography about ONE woman who has had enough of restrictive Victorian social mores. Little Women was based off Alcott's own relationships with her sisters May, Elizabeth and Anna (Amy, Beth and Meg respectively) so it INFURIATES me when people try to place Jo in a position of authority in the text while simultaneously looking down at her sisters as simply minor recurring characters who are of second place importance. This by the way, is the crux of Little Women:
"We are never too old for this my dear, because it is a play we are playing all the time in one way or another. Our burdens are here, our road is before us, and the longing for goodness and happiness is the guide which leads us through many troubles and mistakes to the peace which is a true celestial city." (Chapter 1, LW)
Like!! This is the story of FOUR sisters, each with her own flaws and virtues!! It's about how they cope and develop into good, accomplished, loving young women!!! It's not a treatise about why being a tomboy is bad!!!!
Jo kinnies on Tumblr and elsewhere act like the point of Little Women was that Jo is a poor queer coded woman who rebelled against society and was thus punished in text by marrying a plain old man and having a non adventurous domestic life while Amy the "privileged" ladylike conventionally feminine beauty "gets the guy" and marries rich. Aside from the fact that this reading is a laughable oversimplification of Bhaer and Amy, it is also very far from the truth. Jo is NOT punished within the text for being a tomboy. She is punished for her hot temper and her often brash honesty. This is what Mr March says to her when he meets her at the end of LW:
I rather miss my wild girl, but if I get a strong, helpful, tender hearted woman in her place, I shall be quite satisfied. (Ch 22, LW)
*(note that it is Amy in the text who actually earns censure for her former habit of "fretting much and looking in the glass")
This is what Jo is actually reproached for (and very gently, Marmee and Amy both forgive her immediately afterwards):
It's my dreadful temper!... It breaks out worse than ever... It seems as if I could do anything when I'm in a passion; I get so savage, I could hurt anyone and enjoy it. (Ch 8, LW)
And for the record, this is why Jo loses out on the Europe trip:
"Do you speak French dear?" asked Mrs. Carrol [of Amy.] "Pretty well, thanks to Aunt March, who lets Esther talk to me as often as I like," replied Amy with a grateful look.... "How are you about languages?" asked Mrs. Carrol of Jo. "Don't know a word; I'm very stupid about studying anything; can't bear French, it's such slippery, silly sort of language... (Later she says this) I don't like favours; they oppress and make me feel like a slave. I'd rather do everything for myself and be perfectly independent." (Ch 6, GW)
It's so weird to me that people are out to attempt a post structural feminist reading of the novel but somehow in every single reading they paint Jo as the long suffering Martyr of Ye Olde Victorian Norms erasing every one of her canon flaws, while Amy is touted to have privilege literally because my girl is working her rear off to survive from within the system. A few days ago @amarchsisteratheart pointed out how even several popular study websites popularize this horrible misreading by suggesting that Amy is rewarded for her ladylike behaviour and Jo is punished for being a tomboy whereas the literal explanation is that Amy shows gratitude and decorum while Jo is obnoxious due to her bad temper and quite deservingly loses out (note; she quite graciously feels happy for Amy and only cries after she leaves, unlike whatever tf Greta Gerwig would have you believe).
Finally, you want an example of an actual woman punished for not conforming to social norms? See the way Taeko, the youngest sister in Jun'ichirō Tanizaki's The Makioka Sisters is treated. She is berated for her westernized lifestyle, both her relationships fail and she loses her baby, with nearly all her sisters considering her a black sheep of the family. Jo ends the novel after having penned a successful work, having found love and being left a legacy (by the same woman who supposedly!!! disliked her deeply for her behaviour and relationship with her gender!!). Hell, she opens a school for little boys and makes Aunt March's wildest nightmares come to life by opening her doors to "a wilderness of boys" and she is described as a "very happy woman" there. (Ch 24, GW)
insert Regina George meme here saying "stop trying to make victim Jo happen! It won't happen!"
All four March sisters come from the same background of poverty and all four of them have to deal with their own struggles. Erasing Amy's struggles to make Jo a bigger victim than she's really isn't the feminist power move people think it is. And this is not even delving into the black hole of Jo Laurie shippers who believe Amy bewitched the wholly grown man with her feminine wiles and stole him from Jo. But if we get into that we'll be here the whole day.
hello! i'd first like to thank everyone for reaching 100 follows! it means a lot! also to the person who requested this, i am so sorry that it took me so long to get this out, year just started and i'm already getting writers block </3 there will be 2-3 parts on this, and i'll try to get other parts out as soon as i can! also not really much Ekko in this, though he is mentioned. there will be plenty of him in the next parts though!! enjoy <3
Summary: You've been having trouble getting Vi out of your head. Since then, Babette has taken you in as her own, and now you work at the Brothel, while your brother is leader of the firelights. You finally decide to get over her, but that's when your life takes a turn. (Story contains mentions of death, and heavy implication of sex work.)
Word count: 1.1k
The sounds of punches reflected off a beaten down punching bag, hanging in the far-left corner of you and your little brother’s hideout. You watched as sweat dripped down his forehead to his chin and saw as his cheeks puff out. You smiled, walking over to him, and giving his quite a tug. “You know, you keep gettin’ mad at your big sister, it ain’t good for you.”
He slapped your hand away, looking over at your worktable. “You know, for someone who works on gadgets most of the time, you sure love being my coach for fighting and inventing things.”
“Well, mama says it’s better for us to have brains and papa says it’s good for us to have brawn. So, I combined both. If a gadget breaks, then my fists still work, and vice versa.” You pointed a screwdriver in his direction. “Got it?”
The younger male nodded his head, his head turning over to the sound of footsteps approaching. His lips curled into a smile, as he waved at them. “She’s right, plus (Y/n) doesn’t need her fists, she’s got me. And I won’t let anyone hurt her.”
Your eyes slowly opened as you looked over yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your afro was slightly a mess, and your makeup felt extremely thick and heavy. All in a day’s work. Gray heels were on the counter in the other room, taking a rest of their own as they waited for you to exit the backroom. You were leaving early, under Babette’s own orders. To make a long story short, you had the flashback again. So, you had a breakdown mid-service. The way the woman looked…it was too close to her. To the pinkette that you’d grieved for about 5 years.
You heard a knock on the door, and in came Babette. “Hey deary, are you alright?”
You looked in the mirror and hadn’t noticed you were crying, so you wiped your tears and looked at her. “I’m alright. Just…kind of freaked out.”
She moved a chair over to the sink and used it to climb on top of the counter. “Oh dear, was it the one you were having the past few weeks?” Her hand was placed upon your shoulder, and your breathing calmed a bit. You nod your head as you look over to her and smile sadly. “I’m just gonna go home Babette. Wanna get there before Ekko sends a search party.”
The older woman nodded, and you set off into the other room to collect your things. You knew how the rest of the night was going to go; sleepless and leaving your thoughts wandering and echoing with the same damned night. Of when you lost Vander. You lost Powder…you lost her. It was gonna keep you going through the same loop of looking at the stupid board on your wall, pinning pieces of paper that you didn’t know if were any good to you anymore. It had been years since it happened…nothing but the same routine would continue creeping back into your livelihood. And oh, how much you wanted to get rid of it. To feel some sort of closure from her disappearance.
First you would have to stop calling it a disappearance, of course.
Dark blue boots stepped towards the door of the famous brothel, coming to a stop before a pattern of noise introduced itself onto the door. The small panel slid open to reveal piercing yet calm green. As they bouncer looked at the visitors, they realized it was none other than Vander’s protégée. So, they let her in. Along with a not-so-familiar face. Her hoodie was soon removed as she looked at her uptight partner, walking down the hallways. “Don’t get too shy, you gotta convince them that you work here.”
“Vi, I would never put myself in such a stupid situation. I’ve never worked in this kind of environment.”
She smirked, looking back at her. “You wanna help me or not, cupcake?”
Caitlyn blushed, slight shock on her face as she was taken off-guard by the nickname. “I mean…I supposed it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Great. I’m gonna go talk to someone.”
Before she could say anything, Vi walked off to the back of the Brothel. Her hands were in her pockets as she had thoughts running through her mind. If Babette wasn’t any help on finding Powder, she wouldn’t know what she could do. She was positive her sister was alive; the evidence was in Cait’s hands. Not only was she looking for her sister, but she was also looking for someone else. And she silently prayed to whatever God there was above, that she waited for her.
The curtains opened, and powder blue eyes met with a familiar Yordle. It seemed like the world shifted, and the pinkette felt a little safe after the older being gave her a soft smile. “Well would you believe it.”
They both sat on opposite sides, Babette trying to collect her thoughts. Vi had asked her how the brothel was going, and she assured her that everything was fine. “Even then, the Lanes haven’t been the same since Vander passed.”
Vi felt a burning in her body, one where she had slowly realized she was losing her cool. She knew none of it was Babette’s fault, and she couldn’t be mad at her. “By the looks of it, no one down here lifted a finger to stop Silco.”
“People tried, Vi.” A sad smile fell onto her face. “Even (Y/n) tried to start her own ‘revolution’ by not servicing Silco’s people here at the Brothel. But just about everyone is Silco’s people.”
Vi’s eyes widened once she heard your name. You worked here, at the brothel? Were you still here to where Vi could find you? “She…works here?”
Babette nodded, taking a drag of the cigarette in her hand through the cigarette holder. “She’s been working here for some time, but lately she’s been having a hard time trying to get over you…she thinks you died. She’s been trying to find you since that night. One night she got into it with a local who had whispered something about Silco, saying they could take her for their own special services. Guy left with a bloody nose, of course.”
Vi smiled then leaned forward, her eyebrows furrowing. “I need to find her. But I also need to find Powder, I think Silco’s got her, and I have to get her back. Do you know where she is?”
Babette shook her head, preparing for the disappointment in Vi’s eyes. “I haven’t seen Powder…but (Y/n) just left. You might be able to catch her.”
Vi nodded towards her and got up to reach the curtain. “Silco’s number two is a regular. I can have Miguel tell you where to find her. And Vi…be careful with (Y/n). She’s like a daughter to me.”
these have all been waiting to be posted since like 2019.
under the cut i’m gonna post all the secrets and unfulfilled plans i had for the comic that i can think of or remember. definitely feel free to ask any questions if you got them. feeling nostalgic.
plans i had for the plot
X becomes Xephos as seen in the last halloween special. rythian would take him to the headquarters and tawny would hit him with a steel chair until he convinces her he’s good now (he’s not). eventually he was going to get himself killed to play one last joke by driving tawny truly as mad as himself. maybe it would have worked, maybe not. to top it off, lying was going to bring him back, but since X is “the only me”, he’d be off. maybe just a real xephos again, maybe some slightly alternate X.
Nilesy would find out Parv is the one who murdered his granddad. parv would try to explain himself only for nilesy to shun him, showing mercy despite wanting nothing more than to kill parv. nilesy’s rejection breaks parv’s heart and strife pushes him to go full monster, forcing nilesy to end parv by pulling the blood out of his body, killing him.
rythian would have to fight the ender dragon queen, who would probably come to the real world by becoming a hot dragon lady or using rythian’s body as a vessel or something. the queen plus the resurrection of israphel would cause the greatest threat to reality so far, forcing all the villains and heroes to team up and defeat them.
Steve? would put on a giant hulkbuster mecha and eventually get forced out of it, and a villain would say something like “without your fancy suit youre just a stupid kid”, and steve? would pull out a “diamond sword” (a full on lightsaber) and do a few cool things and tragically die.
khaz would recover, but be completely unable to hero again. the ghost of xephos would tell him it’s time he stops fighting for xephos and to start living for honeydew.
kim and lalna would eventually free themselves from DoG again, and bebop would reveal he’s already had a real robo body made and ready to upload himself into.
DoG would go more into how his brain is decaying due to his powers and basically holding itself together with cosmic stardust. someway somehow, after he and the supers save the world from israphel and the ender queen, he’d get his comeuppance and the old Ridge would come back very briefly to say something tragic, and he’d basically fade away.
the comic where zoey designs her new arm’s tools was to foreshadow that she was eventually gonna save someones life using the umbrella attachment, and also somehow make an APC with it.
sipsman’s arc was pretty much done. due to IRL fallout, s*inergy would have faded heavily in importance, sipsman as a character likely would have suffered a bit as a side effect.
kim would finally lose her flux mutations, but reveal that her entire body was flux, and she would have an ultimate anime form where she turns into some glowing nude power woman and destroy DoG’s facility singlehandedly.
nilesy is the strongest super in the series. he is basically THE god of water, but doesn’t know it.
lying and sipsman were my favorite characters to draw
tawny was the hardest character to draw
steve? is in love with tawny, who would violently reject him and eventually have to apologize. ross also fell in love with tawny but no one would ever find out.
parv was difficult because i never knew how far to take his gimmick. i always worried he was offensive or triggering to people who suffer with self injury issues. i remember i saw a tag that said something like “thank you for parv, he really helps with my issues” and i was like “h-how?”
yeah im pretty sure parv and strife were gettin’ down too. but parv had a crush on nilesy too.
kims mutations would have been way cooler or more severe if i had been better at drawing at the time.
i believe zoey appears the most of any character. she was the easiest girl to draw and during the comics run i wasnt very good at drawing girls so i used her as practice.
there’s probably more but i cant think of it right now. if you read this far, thanks for everything. superyogs will forever be a huge chunk of my life and i have it to thank for how far i’ve come with art today and hopefully, i’ll go even farther.
[18+ | minors do not interact | fembodied! reader]
content warning: cheating (reader cheats on bf w/ kei </3), mentions of w33d, cervix fucking, raw sex, cream pie, make up sex (?)
inspired by: ᴄᴏʙᴀɪɴ | ʟɪʟ ᴘᴇᴇᴘ | ʟɪʟ ᴛʀᴀᴄʏ
you absolutely loathe parties. he knew that of course, but he also knew bitching and moaning about how you don’t know how to have fun could get him what he wanted.
which led them here, in some college frat house. his college’s frat house. surrounded by weed, sex, and booze- you knew the clothes you were wearing would reek of the smell for weeks. ‘michi had told you that you needed to experience one of the parties just once, and he assured you he would be at your side the whole time. you contemplate how you’re going to tell him it’s over as you stand in the corner-alone-where you have been since he disappeared to get you a drink. that was 50 minutes ago.
“so how long you gonna stand here waiting for the piece of shit you call a boyfriend?” you groan aloud at the man’s words. “seriously baji, like you have room to talk,” he gasps at your words, grabbing his chest in mock-offense. “you wound me, angel. one would think after two years of loving each other, you could call me by my first name. thought i was your kei?” you roll your eyes at his words, “besides pretty, name one time i didn’t treat you right. we both know you can’t,” he says with a smirk.
“really, keisuke? you were the one who dumped me, remember? too busy with “gang-shit” to deal with me. besides, we broke up three months ago. i’m sure you’ve had plenty of girls in your bed to help you get over me.” he grabs your wrist as you turn to walk away from him. “that’s not true, pretty, haven’t been with anyone since you. cross my heart,” you let out a small giggle at his actions. and fuck did you miss his stupid face. and his stupid personality. and fuck him for making you still love him.
you moan as he pushes the door to his room shut with your body. “missed this angel, so much. know ya missed me too,” you shake your head at his words, “no i didn’t. just shut up and fuck me, kei.” he laughs at your words, sliding his hands underneath your skirt as his long fingers rub your clit through your thong. “might not have missed me, but your pretty pussy sure has, baby. soaking through your panties, huh pretty girl? bet he can’t even make you cum, can he?”
you whimper at his words, feeling his fingers slide underneath the fabric, inserting one long finger into you, “no kei, no one can touch me like you,” he smirks at your words, “that’s what i like to hear pretty girl.” he slides your underwear down, wrapping your legs around his waist, before laying you down on top of his bed. it had once been your shared bed, before everything had happened. his lips disconnect from yours and move down to your throat showing no mercy. leaving bite marks and bruises as he grinds himself into you.
he slides your shirt off, smirking down at your bare chest underneath, “no bra, angel? and you wore my favorite panties. you knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?” you scoff at his words, and okay. maybe you knew you were going to see him at the party, and maybe you had worn his favorite panties for good luck, and maybe you pretended like you didn’t know your boyfriend was going to leave you to go fuck around with his friends. maybe. “just shut up kei,” he laughs at you again before attaching his mouth onto your pierced nipple.
you let out a loud moan at his actions, arching your back into him, wrapping your hands through his hair to pull him closer. he moans at the feeling of your hands running through his hair detaching himself from your chest as he moves to bury his face between your legs. “oh fuck- kei!” you buck your hips into his face, using his hair to bring him closer to you. he can’t understand your words as you babble incoherently above him, “gonna cum for me pretty?” he asks, using two digits to prep you for him, “fuck missed your pussy so much, baby. always so good for me, so tight. can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”
“cumming! ‘m cumming kei! please don’t stop,” he moves his fingers faster moaning at the sight in front of him. feeling you release, gushing around his fingers as he attaches himself to your clit again. you try in vain to close your legs from your sensitivity, but his broad shoulders block you from doing so. “please! kei, ‘m too sensitive! please,” your eyes roll back into your head as you cum around his fingers again from the constant stimulation. “that’s it pretty, knew you had one more in ya,” he says, removing his shirt and pants before lining himself up with your entrance, moaning upon seeing you clench around nothing.
he brings your lips together once more, brushing your hair out of your face. “this okay pretty? we can stop here if you want,” he says, placing delicate kisses along your face. “want you kei, missed this. missed you. missed your cock, please kei.” he slowly pushes himself in at your words gritting his teeth at the tight grip you have around him. “fuck baby, pretty pussy’s always so tight for me. feels s’good. practically sucking me in.” you moan at his words, getting louder as he bottoms out in you, pressing fully against your cervix. he stays still to let you adjust, placing kisses all across your neck and face, “m gonna move now, ‘s that okay pretty?”
you move your hips to meet his as he begins a slow pace, his thrusts soon turn animalistic at your begging for him to fill you up, to go harder. “please kei! feels so good, ‘s so big, m gonna cum soon. faster please kei,” tears flow down your face as he adjusts his thrusts, hitting your g spot everytime he bottoms out in you. he throws your legs over his shoulders, pressing forward to connect your lips again. “feel s’good wrapped around me baby. never letting you go again,” you moan louder at his words, “ya like that, huh pretty? who does this fuckin’ pussy belong to, huh? who’s pussy is this?”
“you! you kei! keisuke! my pussy belongs to you! please don’t stop! want you to fill me up pleasepleaseplease!” he groans at your words moving at a faster pace, “gonna give it to you pretty, gonna fill you up nice and good. show everyone who this pussy belongs to, who you belong to.” his groans get louder at the feeling of you tightening around him as you cum again, your release splashing all over his abdomen and the sheets below. “oh fuck, ‘m cumming pretty, gonna fill your pussy up so good. love this. love you, love you so much (y/n)”
“love you kei! please fill me up!” you say as he moves your legs to wrap around his waist, as you tighten them to prevent him from pulling out. (as if he would even dream about it). he lets out one more cry of your name before spilling his seed inside you, slowly coming to a stop as he lays on top of you out of breath. he’s too nervous to look at you. he hopes everything you said to him you meant and it wasn’t just the heat of the moment. he knows he meant it, leaving you was the worst mistake of his life. his worries crumble as he feels your hands running through his hair, placing a kiss on top of his head.
“i suppose this means i should go break up with ‘michi,” you sigh. he snorts at your words, bringing your lips together once more, “i love you pretty,” you sigh in contentment in his hold, “i love you more, kei.” you yelp as he flips over so you’re on top of him. “before you go break ‘michi’s heart, how bout i show you how much i missed you again, yeah angel?” your laugh at his words was soon cut off by a loud moan as he began to thrust into you once more.
MINORS DNI - ALL CHARACTERS 18+ - I DO NOT OWN AOT OR ANY CHARACTERS -
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: Mutual masturbation, Phone sex <3
Summary: You were about ready to give up on the stupid dating app you downloaded in a fit of boredom. Just when you were ready to throw in the towel, a potential match appears that has you reconsidering everything.
A/N: This is your only disclaimer that I have never used Tinder or any dating apps lmao so if I get the mechanics wrong I am so sorry. ILY BYE <3 Also some day I will do Jean right in my fics.....BUT TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY!
What a catch.
You rolled your eyes at the fifth (sixth?) guy in a row who was holding some unknown fish in his profile picture. This one also happened to be shirtless...and with a girl in a tiny bikini who was his sister? Best friend? Ex-girlfriend? Ugh.
Why you even bothered with this app was beyond you. If you weren’t looking for an amateur, shirtless fisherman, your prospects were dwindled down to the measly three men you had swiped right on throughout the course of your time on this app - and all three had since deactivated.
You sighed and swiped left. Maybe you should follow their lead and just deactivate. You couldn’t possibly be bored enough to read another bio that stated, “I love a girl who can hold a conversation”. Thank you for that, you clearly think so highly of women with those standards.
Three more swipes to the left. It was practically muscle memory at this point, your thumb hovering in position over your phone screen, ready to send another boy back into the pits of Tinder Hell at a moment’s notice.
You sighed. It was getting late, you’ll give it two more tries and then you were calling it a night - or maybe calling it forever as the thought of deactivating sounded increasingly more tempting.
The first boy appeared on your screen. He was handsome, you’ll give him that. A sandy blonde mullet, kind but serious honey colored eyes, and a pretty decent body. His first photo was bareback on a horse - you weren’t sure how to feel about that... but maybe you were being too harsh? You scrolled to the next picture. He was with two friends, a shorter boy with a buzz cut who was giving him a kiss on the cheek and a cute brunette girl kissing his other cheek. It seemed innocent enough and the huge grin on his face as he was squished between them pulled a small smile from you in the safety of your bedroom. Maybe you would swipe right on this guy after all.
You scrolled down to view his bio and unfortunately for - you scrolled back up to check his name - unfortunately for Jean, that’s where your love affair would end.
“6′4″ if it matters” his bio read.
Pity. You swiped left. One down, one to go.
The next boy appeared on your screen and much to your surprise - he also was not an instant rejection.
Your face scrunched up as you analyzed his picture - this might be something you would have to work out with your therapist later if you were actually considering swiping right on this guy.
Still, he was pretty damn handsome. Even if his only profile picture was a solo shot of him smiling a perfectly white toothy grin while blood dripped from his nose after, you could only presume, he got punched in the face.
If anything, it was a breath of fresh air from all the god forsaken fish sacrificed in the name of Tinder photos.
He didn’t have any other pictures so you scrolled to read his bio.
You half expected some dumb line about how “you should see the other guy”, but he didn’t even mention it - he listed a few interests, bands he enjoys, and where he went to university, but that was really it.
Hm. A breath of fresh air indeed.
You scrolled back up, what was his name again?
Eren J. 23 years old
Fuck it. This was the purpose of the app after all.
You swiped right, nervously locking your phone and tossing it at the end of your bed before you could see whether he had liked you back.
Your teeth found your lower lip as a giddy feeling settled into your stomach.
What if he liked you back? Oh god. What if he sent you a message?
You didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself, so you slipped off your bed and headed into the kitchen to make dinner and distract yourself for a few hours.
You were halfway through your bowl of pasta on the couch, some television show you couldn’t even recognize playing in the background, when you suddenly heard your phone chime from your bedroom.
Your noodles fell off your fork and back into the bowl, but it didn’t matter because you were already setting it down on the coffee table before speed walking back into your bedroom and grabbing your phone off the end of your bed.
Before you could overthink it, you clicked the home button, lighting up the screen.
One New Notification: Tinder - Click to Open
Fuck fuck fuck.
Okay. You needed to sit down. You needed to sit down and take a deep breath. So you did exactly that as you flopped down onto your comforter, holding your phone above your face as you re-read the notification alert.
How you went from cursing the app and hypocritically judging all who used it to this in just a few hours - you could only blame the boy with the bloody nose.
You nervously clicked the notification button on your screen and all at once it came crashing down.
“You have been ✨Super Liked✨ by Jean”
A loud groan sounded throughout your room.
God, how do you block people on this app? You knew Jean hadn’t exactly done anything in particular to deserve being blocked, but the serious comedown you just experienced as a result of his 99 cent a month Tinder Premium subscription might just be the cause of your next downward spiral.
You clicked the settings icon, scrolling until you found the block button when a notification popped up at the top of your screen that made your heart skip a beat.
One New Notification: Tinder - It’s a Match! Eren J has liked you
You froze on Jean’s profile, no longer thinking about or even caring enough to finish hitting the block button. The alert disappeared but you remained stuck in place, it’s a match?!
Finally snapping back into action, you navigated off Jean’s profile in search of Eren’s but before you could reach it, a second notification appeared at the top of your screen.
One New Notification: Tinder - Eren J sent you a message
You squealed, hand flying up to cover your mouth at the same time to muffle the sound. You had gotten as far as messaging back and forth once before with a match, but even that guy hadn’t left you with the unexplainable giddy feeling Eren had.
You clicked on your messages, eyes widening and heat rushing to your face all at once as you read two simple words on your screen.
Eren J: Pretty girl
Okay. Someone doesn’t waste any time. But honestly, somehow it fit him. He clearly wasn’t the type to beat around the bush and it only added to his mysterious charm.
Sent: You’re not so bad yourself :)
Oof. Maybe you should start swiping right on some of these guys just to get some practice in. You could admit you weren’t exactly the most smooth to begin with and throw in the nerves of messaging a really good looking guy - you didn’t have high hopes for yourself.
Eren J: Sushi okay?
You were confused - did you mention something on your profile that had him asking this?
Sent: I’m sorry?
Eren J: When I take you out this weekend
What a line. You rolled your eyes. Cocky motherfucker.
Sent: Do I get a say in this?
You bit your lip as you waited for his response, tiny dots on the bottom of your screen appearing and disappearing as he typed.
Eren J: Would you have said no?
You let out a breath - who were you kidding?
Sent: ...no :(
Eren J: Don’t sound so eager
It’s not that you weren’t interested, the butterflies erupting in your stomach at each notification were proof enough - you just never expected yourself to agree to a date with someone this quickly based on your history with the app. It started to seem like everything about your behavior was different with him so far.
Sent: Well..You don’t know anything about me yet and you want to take me out?
Eren J: Eh, I know what I want
You wished you could deny the rush of blood you felt coursing through you at his words. How were you even supposed to respond to that?
Luckily, you wouldn’t have to, because another message populated from Eren and this time it included seven digits all in a row - his phone number.
Eren J: ^^ So I can get to know you
Sent: Like, right now?
A few seconds passed and then his reply popped up on the screen.
Eren J: Like right now
You rolled over onto your side, then again to your back, nerves swarming your stomach in a frenzy. Things had certainly...escalated and you weren’t used to moving this quickly.
For whatever reason, in that moment, your mind replayed all the hundreds of times you had swiped left since you had downloaded the app. So few had stood out enough to make the effort of getting where you found yourself right now - at least until Eren.
It would be silly to deny the immediate spark you felt when you saw his profile. Throw in the unfamiliar fuzzy feeling his messages left you with - maybe this is exactly what the app was meant for.
Minutes were passing by. You didn’t want to risk missing this chance regardless of how nervous you were, so after one more deep inhale, you entered his number into your phone app and hit ‘call’.
Two rings passed before he picked up, speaking your name as a greeting in a low, breathy voice that had you thankful you were already lying down.
“Hi,” you spoke back softly, bashful. He must have sensed your nerves over the phone because he let out a quiet laugh on the other side of the line, quickening your heartbeat at the sound.
“You didn’t answer my question from earlier, you know,” he jumped right into the conversation as if this wasn’t your very first time speaking.
“Is sushi okay?”
“You’re really determined to take me out, huh?” you couldn’t stop the small giggle that escaped your lips.
“Yeah I am,” he spoke confidently, “So, how about it?”
You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, switching your phone to your other ear and twirling a lock of hair around your finger.
“Okay, that would be nice.”
“Cool,” you could hear his smile through the phone and it made you feel better about the goofy grin you were sporting alone in the comfort of your bedroom, “So she likes sushi, any other secrets you plan on indulging me with tonight?”
“Actually, can I ask you a question? I think it’s time we addressed the elephant in the room...”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, sweetheart,”
You tried to ignore the way your stomach flipped at the nickname, determined to get answers out of him, “Your picture... should I be concerned someone felt the need to punch you in the face?”
“You don’t like my picture?” he feigned disappointment.
“I didn’t say that...”
“Alright, you want the real story or the one I tell everyone else?”
“The real one obviously,” you replied with a playful tone.
“Honestly, I tripped up the stairs at my mom’s house and ate complete shit,” he barked out a laugh and you smiled at the sound, “My dad’s a doctor so my mom took that picture to send to him and see if my nose was broken.”
“Ouch,” you couldn’t help but giggle at his confession, embarrassing as it was, “You should definitely go with the lie then...defending some damsel in distress’ honor I’m assuming?”
“Something like that,” he chuckled quietly and you heard him fumbling with something on the other line, keys? Maybe?
“If... if you’re heading out we can just talk later,” you offered hesitantly - although no part of you wanted to hang up the phone.
“Nah, don’t hang up,” more fumbling on the other line and then a long, content sigh from him, “just got in bed finally.”
You tried to fight it, you really did, but your mind was very persistent on piecing together an imagined picture of him in his bed on the other line. Take away the gore from his profile picture and he was almost unfairly handsome. You couldn’t understand why someone who looked like him even needed the help of a dating app. It took no effort at all to paint a pretty picture of what it’d be like laying next to him. Green eyes soft and half lidded, his chocolate brown hair splayed around him on the pillow case, a tiny smirk pulled on his lips while he spoke to you with that natural confidence...
He spoke your name again, pulling you from your unsolicited daydream.
“You still there?”
You shook your head in an attempt to physically rid yourself of the mental pictures you were slipping away with.
“Yeah, I’m here,” you spoke softly.
“Good, good. I like talking with you.”
“I do too,” another soft laugh slipped past your lips, “Although I could probably just listen to you talk all night,” you added in a moment of bravery.
“That so?” he chuckled at your confession.
“Yeah,” you confirmed, heart beating rapidly as you spoke your honest thoughts aloud, “You have a really nice voice, I’d probably listen to anything you told me.” It wasn’t a lie. His voice was deep, rich. Everything he said felt like a command you were fully content to follow.
It was quiet for a moment, just a moment, but long enough that the anxiety that you had said too much, had gotten just a smidge carried away in your lovesick stupor, had arrived. It was creeping in fast and bringing self doubt along with it.
He spoke your name again.
“What’re you doing right now?”
His question caught you off guard, something about the way he asked it felt... less innocent than the earlier parts of your conversation.
“That eager to see me or something?” you teased, pushing away your anxious thoughts.
“You have no idea,” he spoke and you relaxed as you could once again hear the smile in his voice - maybe it was to blame for the spontaneity of your next action.
“Here, now you see me,” you hit send on the photo you had just taken. You were lying on your pillow with a pretty smile, only part of the flimsy little tank top you wore to sleep was visible - the one with the cute little bow at the top that matched your sleep shorts.
“Damn, you’re really beautiful,” he exhaled sharply and you let the praise wash over you.
“Not fair,” you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
“What’s not fair, baby?” his voice was sticky sweet, the new nickname dizzying you.
“I wanna see you too,” you admitted in a whisper.
He chuckled and you heard what sounded like sheets rustling before your phone chimed once more. When you clicked the notification you nearly fumbled your phone out of your hands.
There in your messages was a picture from Eren, held overhead, handsome grin as he laid atop his white pillowcase, green eyes sparkling and cheeks the faintest dusting of rose. Oh. And a clear view halfway down his bare chest and stomach.
Whatever image you had conjured up in your mind earlier, reality had far surpassed it.
“You’re,” you hit the lock button, pulling the phone back up to your ear, “you’re really handsome, Eren.”
It was silent for only a moment and then Eren spoke your name again, breathier, needier.
“What’re you thinking about?” he asked.
You fell silent. You couldn’t tell him what you were thinking about - because the truth was you were thinking about him. And your thoughts were growing more impure by the second.
You were thinking about Eren, that handsome smile as he laid on his perfectly white pillowcase. Thinking about the way his pretty green eyes shone bright even in the lowlight of his room. Thinking about how his long brown hair fell softly around him, how you’d love to run your fingers through it. How you could run your fingers through it by sitting atop his perfectly toned body. And when your hands were done with his hair - how you could take your fingers and slowly move them down, tracing his strong jawline, dancing along the straight lines of his collarbone, down to his toned stomach where the hard ridges of his abs would lead you directly to his cut v-line and below that...
“Don’t get shy on me now,” Eren spoke again.
You huffed as he once again pulled you from your daydream. “Isn’t it obvious?” it came out a half whisper.
He chuckled, finding amusement in your stubbornness.
“Come on - I wanna hear you say it, sweetheart,” you noticed how his voice had gone an octave lower and it had your mind racing.
You started to think that each word passing his lips might actually be some sort of perfect poison nectar - something made just for you. It’s not like it could be that bad for you if it was this sweet, if it made you feel this good. Just one taste and you wouldn’t stop drinking it down, even knowing it would soon have you falling apart at the seams.
“I’m...thinking about you,” you admitted, voice hushed.
“What about me?” he urged.
“I’m... thinking about... touching you, Eren.”
“Yes,” you nodded eagerly even though your voice was small.
“I’m thinking about touching you too,” you let out a quick gasp at his confession, but he kept going, “Thinking about how pretty you look laid out in your bed in that picture you sent, thinking about where I would touch you if I was there.”
“Oh,” you replied, suddenly too flustered to form complete sentences.
“Do you wanna know where, baby?”
The tiny spark in your lower half was a full on flame now. Slick pooling your panties at the thought of him touching you.
“Where?” you breathed, desperate to find out.
“Well, I really want to kiss you, want to take it nice and slow, get you warmed up, needy for me. But I don’t think you want, no - I don’t think you need that. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Um,” Your whole body felt like it had been set ablaze. He was right, and you had no idea how to tell him that.
“Your pussy’s already wet for me, isn’t it?”
“Fuck,” you whispered out, your body clenching around nothing. Eren groaned in response, your lack of reply was a reply in itself.
“I thought so,” he kept going, never truly needing confirmation from you to begin with, “You’re gonna be so good for me, huh? Gonna let me tell you just how I’m gonna touch you?”
He was driving you crazy with his words. You barely even registered how he had somehow moved on from if he could touch you, to when he would.
“Eren, please,” you moaned as you trailed your fingers slowly down the soft skin of your navel, eager to meet the elastic of your sleep shorts and slip your hand inside. You were beginning to feel desperate, you needed something to relieve the burning need growing warmer at your core with each promise leaving his lips.
He groaned again, “Fuck, you can’t say my name like that baby. Put your fingers in your mouth, get em nice and wet.”
You followed his direction dutifully, pulling your free hand back from your navel and swirling your tongue around your middle and pointer fingers.
“Mhm,” it came out muffled as you pulled the saliva coated digits from your mouth.
“Good, good. Bring em down to your clit, want you to start slow, do you understand?”
You moved your hand down once more, pushing your wet fingers past the fabric of your sleep shorts and then your panties, pressing down gently on your swollen clit. A shaky moan escaped your lips at the long awaited touch.
“Answer me,” Eren’s low voice commanded on the other end of the line.
“Yes, yes. I understand,” you whined, forming slow circles on the sensitive bud, “I’m going slow, promise.”
“God I can’t wait to taste you,” you heard him huff before continuing, “Slow n’ wet, just like you’re doing now. Tease your clit with my tongue, would you like that baby? Feels good?”
Your eyes had slammed shut, hips rocking in pleasure as you teased your clit under his direction. You couldn’t form a response, your only reply a small whimper as you slightly increased the pressure of your touch.
“Got me so hard. I love hearing you like this, so pretty for me,” he groaned again, rough, strained.
“Feels s’good,” you moaned breathily, you had found a steady pace now, touching yourself just the way he wanted you to.
“Wanna hear all these pretty sounds when I see you, hear em when you sit down on my face, s-sit down on my cock,” a low moan echoed through him and yours followed almost instantly.
“Yeah, just like that baby,” his words inched you closer and closer, “Give yourself a little more, a little faster now.” You followed his command, enjoying the low buzz of pleasure that spread throughout your body in a lovely wave at the increased speed on your clit.
“I bet you could cum just like this, huh? So easy to please, just need some attention on that little clit of yours and you’re falling apart for me?”
“Y-yes,” you focused in on the familiar coil winding in your stomach at his words. He was right, you were always pretty sensitive. All it took was just the right touch and you could make yourself cum without trouble. Add in the sultry, deep voice of Eren’s leading you straight to your orgasm and you would be there in no time at all.
“Go on then, wanna hear how pretty you sound when you cum. Bet you’re so close,” a throaty moan passed through his lips as he urged you forward.
“So close, fuck,” you confirmed, speeding up your touch once more. You could feel your peak nearing, mind gone hazy in lust and hips rocking in a steady rhythm.
You would have reached your peak soon without a doubt, between the wet circles your finger tips were drawing on your clit and the breathy commands coming from Eren on the other end of the line, your orgasm was not far off at all.
But, what ended up being that final push, what snapped the coil wound so tightly in your core and sent you hurdling over the edge was the unexpected string of curses and incoherent babbling from Eren suddenly pouring in over the phone.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m cumming baby, fuck,” he growled, voice sounding a bit further away as he presumably dropped his phone mid-orgasm.
Your mind went blank with bliss, following him almost immediately into your own orgasm that had your legs shaking and eyes squeezing shut as sweet whimpers of his name poured from your lips.
Faint words of praise could be heard from Eren on the other side of the line, but you were too far away in pleasure to pick out anything other than a “good girl” sprinkled in amongst a flurry of other curses.
As your legs stilled and your hand was slowly retracted from beneath the elastic of your sleep shorts, the room, the conversation, went silent. All that could be heard was the shaky exchange of inhales and exhales as you both came down from your respective highs.
You closed your eyes again, softly this time. The reality of what you had just done with basically a stranger slowly settling in where your lust took off.
You had your fears and your doubts when you first downloaded this app - but never did you expect to find yourself driven to orgasm by someone you swiped right on only a few hours ago.
Eren spoke your name, reminding you that he was still there on the other side of the line.
“I’ll...see you Saturday? 8:00?” he asked hesitantly, the question far too casual when your panties were still soaked with the evidence of your impromptu rendezvous moments ago.
Still, your heartbeat quickened at the thought that maybe the next time he pushed you into a mind-numbing orgasm, his soft lips would be pressed to your ear instead of the cool glass of your phone screen. You knew there was only one sure fire way you would find out.
“Yeah,” you replied still a little out of breath, tiny smile pulling up on your lips at the thought, “Saturday.”
A/N: Someday I will write some beautiful love story between Eren and reader and it will be my masterpiece but until then, have whatever this is <3 (I have been struggling so hard with writers block so I also want to say thank you to everyone who still follows me even though I can’t seem to write like I used to - it means a lot!)
Also am I gonna get sued for naming Tinder specifically? lmao
Warnings: sadness, signs of trauma, slight violence, but also sweet healing moments
a/n: i know there is lots of plot in this chapter jfajsd i hope it’s not confusing
Is that your mother singing? And is that her hand caressing your hair? Those sheets, they feel like the sheets of your childhood bed. Soft, warm, cotton. That smell. Is that your father's cologne? It smells like his hugs. Why can’t you open your eyes? You want to see them. You haven’t been back in your childhood home in years, not after the fire burned everything down. Paws on wooden tiles. No way. Is that Cookie? She is alive again? You laugh, but nothing comes out. You want to open your eyes and look at her, but you can’t. She barks, it makes your father laugh and soon your mother laughs too. Mama? Papa?
You sit up and gasp, ripping your eyes open. This isn’t your childhood home, this is a forest. This isn’t your childhood bed, this is the wet, cold ground. And who is that shadow sitting in the dark?
“Took you long enough”, he grumbles and steps into the light of the full moon. Min Yoongi.
“You?” you gasp and it is not long that realisation washes over you. You reach for your neck. It is dry and doesn’t hurt anymore. You pull your hand away, staring at your clean palms, “what?”
“I fed you my blood”, he says calmly.
You gasp, throat constricting. Your hand is on your chest, feeling for a heartbeat.
“No you aren’t dead”, he says dryly. He stands up and closes the distance between you and him. He squats down, red eyes racing over your face, “although I did think you would die on me for a second. You’ve been out for five hours.”
“Five hours?” you gasp, blinking in confusion, “Yoongi what is going on? What is-“, you stop talking when you watch Yoongi's head snap up in alert. He sniffles then growls.
“Okay we gotta go”, he whispers and wraps his strong fingers around your wrist.
“We have to go, didn’t you hear me?” he spits angrily, pulling you to your feet.
You are dizzy and the world is nothing but a blurred mess. You wobble and stumble, head pounding painfully.
“I’m so dizzy. Yoongi wait.”
“There is no time to wait”, he barks, faltering only a second later when he sees how your eyes flutter in exhaustion. He sighs, “fine, I’ll walk for you.”
He throws you over his shoulder afterwards, ignoring your squeaked out complaints. And then he runs. He runs so fast that trees turn into dark streaks of blurriness and the ground beneath your eyes is indistinct.
“Yoongi put me down please”, you plead, feeling your eyes tear up in the cold wind.
But Yoongi doesn’t answer you. He continues running through the endless forest. The darkness doesn’t even phase him, he manoeuvres through the thick undergrowth and high trees as if it was the brightest day.
“Please…” you plead.
“Quit it”, he hisses, dodging a family of low trees.
“I’m so confused, what happened?”
Oh your stomach aches so much. Yoongi is way too fast, you will throw up if he doesn’t slow down.
“Yoongi, please slow down.”
“Oh my god”, he stops, picking you up like a little baby so you would be facing him, “if I tell you to be quiet then be fucking quiet. You want to tell every bloody vampire in a radius of fifty miles your location?”
“What?” you gasp.
“Their little feeding stupidity alerted others of our kind, they smelled blood. Don’t you get it?” he spits.
“I- holy shit.”
“Now you get it”, he throws you back over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, “so be quiet until I tell you that you can speak.”
And so Yoongi runs again, through the forest until he reaches the gates. Down the empty streets and quiet alleyways. And you stay quiet, cursing your heart for racing so loudly and your brain for slowly coming to its senses.
Yoongi told you so himself. Someone fed on you, used you as their own blood bag, almost ripped you to shreds. It was them. Park Jimin and Kim Namjoon and… Taehyung. Your love, the man who swore to protect you. He led you to your demise.
“Stop sobbing”, Yoongi hisses, taking a sharp turn to the right.
“They killed me”, you sob. It hurts so much. You want to cry for hours.
“You’re not dead, we’re almost there”.
“Why did you heal me? Why? I could have been like you, I could have been like you.”
“You don’t want this, trust me”, he mumbles, unphased by your continuous sobs and cries.
He betrayed you. He gave you promises of safety and he forced you into danger. You trusted him and he allowed them to kill you. It hurts so much, it’s so unbearably much.
A knock. A lock gets turned. Then a voice, distant and distorted. Warmth, the smell of cologne and fresh sheets, the sounds of floorboards creaking.
“Holy shit what happened? Guys! Seokjin! Come quick!” it was Hoseok's voice screaming.
“Will you stop screaming?” Yoongi hisses back.
Then the creaking of wood and a faint breeze of wind.
“___? What happened to you?” Seokjin is talking to you, catching you in his arms as Yoongi puts you down rather harshly.
Your knees are way too weak to keep you upright. You sink into Seokjin's chest, head tangling to the front and tears spilling out of your eyes.
“Why are you covered in blood?” Seokjin asks, picking you up gently.
“Seokjin”, you sob.
“Hey it’s okay, don’t cry. I’m here now”, he whispers.
“They killed me”, you croak, convulsing in a painful sob, “I trusted him.”
“What?” Hoseok gasps, he seems to be walking right next to you and Seokjin.
“They didn’t, she is just being dramatic. I fed her my blood before she could die, she’ll heal”, Yoongi answers him dryly.
Seokjin stops and turns.
“You fed her your blood? Are you insane? What if she would have died?”
“Well at least then she would have been able to live on as a vampire”, Yoongi spits.
“I can’t believe you.”
“What? Would you rather I'd have let her die? Be grateful you fuck, at least I saved her.”
“Guys please”, Hoseok interrupts them, “if you are going to continue fighting then I’ll be the one carrying ___ upstairs, she’s been through enough.”
“Then take her”, Seokjin says, handing you over gently, “I need to get rid of some vermin.”
“Call me vermin again and I will rip your throat out. I saved her life.”
"Do you have any idea what her life would have been like should she have died? You reckless idiot. You…" their voices drown out in the background as Hoseok carries you upstairs.
“Hoseok”, you whimper, head falling into the crook of his neck, “Hoseok they killed me.”
“It’s alright, you’re safe now”, he whispers, “I’ll take you upstairs and make sure you’re rested. You don’t need to be scared anymore.”
"I trusted him…" you press out and then the world around you becomes dark and blurry as you pass out from the pain in your chest.
It must be morning already. It is so bright. The air smells like too little oxygen and fresh sheets. Your head pounds. Your eyes feel heavy even as you still have them closed. You already hate having to open them.
“Good morning”, Hoseok's squished up face greets you when you finally manage to open them.
You merely hum and close your eyes again. You really don’t want to talk. Everything hurts.
“I don’t know if you remember cause you were very spaced out last night, but you asked me to stay with you”, he explains, “I hope I didn’t do something wrong.”
You shake your head. He didn’t. After what happened last night you don’t think that anyone could ever do you wrong again. You have been shown the endless darkness of betrayal's biggest player and nothing can phase you anymore.
“You’re still sad, aren’t you?” he asks then.
You nod your head, squeezing the edge of the pillow tightly. Hoseok sighs.
“Do you want me to comfort you?”
You nod again.
The mattress shakes a little as Hoseok scoots closer. Then you feel cold fingers run along your temple, painting swirls. They travel up to your forehead, leaving little circles on your skin.
“I’m really bad at comforting people, so tell me if what I’m doing is wrong”, he says, dragging his pointer finger down the slope of your nose.
“Don’t stop”, you whisper.
“Okay, I won’t”, he answers you.
He outlines your nose a few times until he can watch the creases between your eyebrows become less. Only then he moves on to the next spot, swirling his fingers over your cheek softly.
“Do you want to tell me what happened last night?”
You shake your head. You couldn’t. It hurts too much.
“I understand”, he says and sighs, “whatever happened, I’m sorry that it did.”
At that you open your eyes, staring at him in confusion.
“Why? You weren’t involved.”
“Well yeah”, he shrugs his shoulders, “but we swore to protect you and we failed.”
“You couldn’t have known. Neither did I.”
Hoseok knits his brows and grinds his teeth. He caresses your cheekbone, wiping away the hot tears.
“Uhm”, he begins, “if you want I could make it better. It won’t last long, cause I’m basically useless in mind control, but yeah…I could tell you to feel better for a little, if you want to.”
You have to smile at that. It was exhausting to do and only really lasted for a second, but it was honest.
“Thank you Hobi”, you lower your eyes, “but I am tired of vampires messing with my brain.”
“Mhm, I get that. Don’t worry, I won’t do it.”
“That’s nice. Thank you for respecting my wishes.”
“Hey, of course”, he scoots closer and cups your cheek, “I’ll always respect your wishes.”
Silence. Only you can be heard when you exhale loudly. You furrow your brows, eyes racing between Hoseoks.
“Fuck Hobi”, you feel your throat constrict painfully, “you’re so nice”, you choke out, having to sob afterwards.
Hoseok's eyes widen, his breath hitches. He wasn’t planning on making you cry and now he feels bad. You close the distance between him and you, pushing him until he falls to his back. He does so with a quiet gasp. Then you are on top of him, resting your head on his chest and draping his arms around him.
“Please don’t push me away”, you whimper.
Hoseok sneaks a glance your way, placing his hands on your back afterwards.
He never had another person cry on his chest before and now that he has, it makes him ache. He really wants to say something to make it better, but can’t quite come up with something. And so he stays silent, allowing you to pour your broken heart out to him by soiling his shirt with your heavy tears. And while he lets you cry he covers your back in tender touches and caresses, hoping that they are enough to lessen your pain a little bit.
He smells really good. Like summer with a hint of sandalwood. It had never really come to your attention up until now, how good he smells. But now that you are resting on his chest, ridding yourself of the heavy burden of life, you realise that he smells good and that it calms you down. He isn’t as warm as normal humans would be, cold even. But for some unexplainable reason you didn’t even mind that he was. Your body was burning up, your back was covered in cold sweat and your chest felt like an unbearable fire was scorching your heart. His cold skin is just what you needed, keeping you grounded and giving you the release you needed.
Although the release really didn’t come.
It doesn’t come today.
It doesn’t come tomorrow.
It doesn’t come the day after that
And then two weeks and three days had passed and it still hadn’t come.
You didn’t leave your bed in that time. You couldn’t, even if you tried to, you just couldn’t. Your heart is broken. All you want to do is sleep and distract yourself by watching stupid shows on TV. Hoseok was nice enough to carry a TV up to your room and install it on your dresser. It made you smile for the briefest of moments.
Hoseok turned out to be a very good friend in those two weeks and three days. He sits with you when you want company. He holds you when you wake up from a nightmare screaming and crying. And he listens to you when you can do nothing more than cry into his chest. Yes he was a really good friend to you.
Seokjin was too. Although he was a little more distant than Hoseok, blaming himself for what had happened to you. He still tried to be there for you however. He brought you food and made you eat it. He brought you tea and stayed with you until you finished it. And he changed your sheets whenever you found enough energy to shower. It was always really nice to return to fresh sheets, which were still a little warm from the drier.
And Yoongi. He stayed. Told you that he will be your protection from now on. And that he will teach you how to fight once you are over your heartbreak. It was nice, even if his voice stayed as cold as ice as he spoke.
Jungkook was there for you too. In his way at least. Staying in his room with his spine still broken and cursing the world for what happened to you.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I honestly have no idea”, you say, closing the door behind you.
“Are you going to stay?”
“Do you not want me to?”
“I don’t know….”
He studies your features and how small you look in the corner of his room, as if you wanted the world to overlook you.
“I heard what happened. Are you okay?”
You shake your head, sniffling.
“Yeah, it really does.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Don’t know, honestly.”
You step closer, sitting down on the edge of his bed. You touch his stomach. It feels cold against your fingertips.
“But how are you doing? I told you to heal, why haven’t you yet?”
Jungkook avoids eye contact.
“You know why. Taehyung and his asshole friends already hurt you enough, I don’t want to be the one doing the finishing blow.”
“How are you so sure?”
“Because I know you, Kook.”
“Well, then you know me more than I do”, he mumbles and lowers his eyes.
You look at the plate of cookies on his bedside table. It is untouched.
“Do you want a cookie?”
“No uhm, it’s fine. Seokjin made them with raisins and I hate raisins.”
You snort and laugh.
“Damn that’s tough.”
“Yeah it really is.”
You give him one last grin and then you look away. You keep your hand on his stomach, feeling it raise and sink with every breath he takes.
“Have you been downstairs already?” he asks you.
“Because I don’t want to face them.”
You shrug your shoulders.
“They’ll try to be there for me. Seokjin will offer me food and tea and Hoseok will try to make me laugh with funny dance moves.”
“That doesn’t sound bad.”
“I know and I feel like a bitch, but fuck it’s getting so exhausting to pretend that their sweet gestures are working.”
“Why are you pretending?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt them. They are doing so much for me”, you look at him, “and for you too”, you look back at the wall, “and I don’t want to hurt them by telling them that what they are doing is working shit.”
“I get that.”
“Yeah? That’s nice to hear.”
You sigh and let your shoulder sag and your head lower.
“It just hurt so much Kook”, you whisper.
“Is it still healing?”
“No, not my neck. Look”, you pull the collar of your hoodie down, "Yoongi fed me his blood so I could heal. It honestly tasted as if I ate battery acid.”
“Yes, I know. It’s really bad, isn’t it? Burns like fire.”
“Yeah it really does.”
“Did they tell you what would have happened had you died?”
You nod your head.
“Three days they said. Three days it would take for Yoongi's blood to leave my system again and that I should be extra careful in those days unless I want to end up as a vampire.”
You sneak a glance his way, “not that I ever left my room, so I don’t know why they were so pressed about it.”
“They just worry for you.”
“Yeah I guess”, you shrug your shoulders, “I guess”, you whisper.
“So if it isn’t your neck then what else hurts?”
“Everything else?” you say and laugh painfully, “most of all my heart.”
He knits his brows and licks over his lips.
“Was it really Taehyung, who led you to them?”
“Yeah”, you croak out, hitting your chest in order to make it stop hurting. It doesn’t work. The pain sits too deep.
“Shit ___, I thought he liked you. Why would he do that to you?”
“Honestly I think if I knew the answer I wouldn’t hurt that much.”
“Once I am healed, I’ll kill him for you, I promise.”
“No”, you blurt out, “don’t do that Kook, please.”
“Why not? He killed you first, didn’t he?”
“Even if he did, I don’t want you going out and killing people for me.”
“Because that’s not what I want.”
“I don’t have a reason, I just don’t want you to.”
Jungkook sighs and pouts.
“Fine”, he gives in, “I won’t kill him for you.”
You reach for one of the cookies on the nightstand, eating it slowly with your eyes zoning out. Jungkook watches you, the way your jaw moves and the way you swallow.
“There is something else too, isn’t it?” he asks, listening to your heart skip a beat.
You nod your head, clenching your jaw.
“Do you want to tell me?”
“It was them.”
“What do you mean?”
You look at Jungkook.
“Jimin and Namjoon were the ones who tortured us.”
Jungkook's eyes widen.
“What?” he breathes.
“Namjoon called me little one and I connected the dots from there.”
“How sure are you?”
“Very sure. I mean, who else would have reason to hurt us in such a way?”
“You’ve got a point”, Jungkook pauses to take a shaky breath, “holy shit ___ it was them. It all makes sense now. You know before they drugged me out of my mind I smelled orange blossoms and cedarwood and I thought that my mind was playing tricks on me so I pushed it away.”
“What does this have to do with this? Are orange blossoms and cedarwood poisonous for you guys? Or like heavy drugs?”
“No, but that’s how Jimin and Namjoon smell like, next to betrayal and blood.”
“Holy shit Kook”, you gasp, shivering in fear, “so it was them and now…” you drift off, thinking back to the night, “…they wanted to kill me. Why? What did I do to them?“
"All I did was love Taehyung. Why k-kill me for it? W-what, what did do to them?"
"Nothing! None of this is your fault. None", Jungkook insists loudly.
You look at him through your tears.
"They are perverted murderers, who see torturing and killing people as their fun hobby. You didn’t do anything wrong."
"I just feel so guilty….like all of this was my fault. If I hadn’t angered them so much or provoked them so much maybe they wouldn’t have hurt me."
"No! ___ please listen to me. No", Jungkook is harsh in his tone. Not because he was angry with you but he wanted to make sure that you really heard him, "you are not at fault. Your actions and behaviour is not the reason they hurt you. You are not at fault."
You sob softly, muffling it behind your trembling hand.
"I'm sorry", you press out, squeezing your eyes shut.
"It's alright, don’t apologize. You can cry as much as you need to."
You nod your head in acknowledgement and finally let out those painful sobs. It feels so good to cry. It doesn't feel good as you are doing, it is suffocating and makes you gag every now and then. But it feels good afterwards when your chest doesn’t feel like breaking under the pressure. That feeling only lasts for a few seconds however.
Jungkook watches you as you blow your nose and wipe your eyes. Jungkook watches you as you force down a new wave of sobs. And he watches you as you hit your own chest to get rid of the pain.
He knows that gesture, he had done it a million times before in his lonely, isolated life. And it rips him apart to see you having to do it too. You should never have had to feel so broken.
“I’m so sorry you had to experience this”, he says quietly.
You smile sadly, “thank you I guess.”
“That was not helpful at all, was it?” he asks.
You look at him, “no not really, but what else should you say. Am I right?”
“Yeah, I guess”, he mumbles.
You study his features. He carries comfort, anger, sadness and understanding on them. You feel less alone when you look at him.
“Can I at least kill Namjoon and Jimin for us?” he asks.
You have to laugh.
“Fuck Kook, don’t ask me something like that.”
“I’m serious. They almost killed you, twice. And they hurt me, like really, really a lot.”
You look at his stomach, picturing the ruined spine inside his body. It forces another sting through your chest.
“I know”, you whisper, caressing his tummy, “I’m so sorry you had to experience this.”
He laughs shyly.
“Did you just use my words against me?”
“What?” you study his face, “oh god, no. Dear, I just realised what I did”, you cringe and chuckle, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mock you. I actually am sorry that you had to experience this.”
“Yeah I know, don’t worry I was just teasing you a little.”
You feel a little better right now. You weren’t feeling great or good or even well. But he was sweet and caring and his jokes were innocent and light enough to distract you from the clashing hole in your heart.
“You’re cute Kook”, you tell him fondly, pinching his cheek.
He lowers his eyes and scrunches his nose up.
“So are you”, he whispers, “like really, really a lot”, he adds, even quieter.
“Thank you”, you say, tugging a strand of his hair behind his ear.
Jungkook smiles shyly. Your gesture feels good on his skin, it makes him tingle. He feels a little guilty for doing so because he didn’t want to come off as desperate or creepy.
“Yoongi is with us now”, you say, resting your hand on his stomach again. You want to talk to Jungkook a little longer, it is such a nice distraction.
“I know, we talked a few times already.”
“You did? I can imagine that this went splendidly.”
“Actually it did. He…” he lowers his eyes, “…offered to train me.”
“Apparently he has lots of experience with vampires like me and knows a few tricks. So he wants to teach me how to control my urges.”
“Really? Wow Jungkook, this is the first time in weeks I feel honest happiness. This is amazing.”
You were telling the truth. You were so happy for him. He deserves it.
Jungkook smiles shyly.
“But I don’t know if it will work.”
“I’m sure it will”, you assure him, caressing his chest, “you just have to believe in yourself.”
“So you believe in me?”
“Of course I do.”
He smiles, placing his hand over yours and squeezing it softly.
“Thank you, this means the world to me”, he says, caressing your knuckles.
“Don’t mention it”, you say and look back at the wall. It doesn’t look as sad anymore as it did before, “you know, Yoongi offered to train me as well.”
You nod your head.
“Did you take the offer?”
“Not yet, tonight’s like the first time in weeks I left my room. I don’t know, I didn’t quite feel like it until now.”
“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, I understand.”
You look into his eyes, squeezing his hand. He squeezes it right back.
“That’s so sweet, thank you Kook.”
He grins, “don’t mention it.”
You scoot closer to him, resting your folded knees against the side of his stomach. Like this you can look at him better.
“I think I’m going to take it. The offer I mean.”
“Yeah. I don’t want to feel so helpless anymore. You know, if they ever attack me again, I want to be able to at least try to defend myself. Not that it will work, but I’d feel a lot better if I knew a few tricks.”
“That’s a good idea. I’m sure you’ll be so badass in a few weeks.”
“You think I can take you then?” you tease, nudging his chest.
He shakes his head.
“No, I’ll still be better than you.”
You chuckle, “we’ll see about that.”
You lie down next to him then, squeezing yourself against him so you wouldn’t fall off the bed. He stares at you with widened eyes.
“Can I do that?” you ask him.
“I, I guess”, he stutters, breathing speeding up.
“Okay”, you say and close your eyes, cuddling your face into the crook of his neck.
Jungkook sighs and shivers, eyes fluttering closed.
“Thank you by the way”, you whisper.
“For allowing me to be a depressed bitch.”
He snorts and wraps his arm around you, petting your hair.
“Don’t mention it, I guess.”
You cuddle closer and squeeze him.
“You’ve been moving for the last ten minutes by the way”, you whisper against the shell of his ear.
Jungkook rips his eyes open, suddenly hyper aware of every single nerve ending in his body. He feels how his fingers braid themselves through your hair and how his toes wiggle under the blanket.
“___ stay away, I’m dangerous again”, he squeaks.
You roll on top of him and cage him in, face buried in his neck and fingers twisted in his hair.
“Hush, we both need the snuggles”, you murmur.
Jungkook writhes for a moment, mind going dizzy.
“Please Kook, I don’t want to face the others quite yet. They don’t know what it’s like, but you do”, you sneak your hand under his back, caressing his now healed spine, “you know how it feels like.”
Jungkook arches into you, plopping down a second later with a quiet sigh. His poor dead heart feels like it is going to start racing again.
“Let me stay please.”
His chest rises and sinks in a deep breath, his entire body shuddering in reaction. Then you feel them. His hands, cold yet gentle, are resting on your back, holding you close to him.
You smile and cuddle closer.
“Thank you so much”, you whisper softly, closing your eyes.
“Don’t mention it”, he answers you just as softly, closing his eyes as well.
Outside it storms. The wind slaps the rain against Jungkook’s window and makes the wood creak. It howls through the hallways downstairs, like an endless song of unknown sorrow. You lift and sink in time with his chest, finding comfort in the movement. Your fingers find comfort in the ridges of his chest as you outline them, you have started to watch them. They are blurry in your vision, but you don’t want to correct it. Jungkook began petting your hair, allowing you to relax.
"Don't do it Kook", you whisper.
"What do you mean?"
"Kill them for us. You are not a killer."
"We both know this isn’t true. Everything about me is intended to kill."
"Even if it is. Don’t kill them."
"And why shouldn’t I?"
"....honestly I have no answer to that. Perhaps I just want to ask them what we did to them to deserve all of this pain."
"Nothing. We did nothing and that’s the fucked up part. We were just another poor soul finding themselves at the wrong place and the wrong time."
He inhales shakily, making you rise with his chest.
"I was on my way back to you and the others when I suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of my neck. You know, I tried to fight the drugs, but they were too strong. I could see them as I passed out. A plaque doctor and a venetian mask. They towered over me and laughed", he whimpers softly, "they laughed as I laid on the floor and lost consciousness."
His fingers on your back tighten in silent anger.
"Next thing I know is that I am chained up and that the sweetest scent ever is shaking me awake. And then I see you and the plaque doctor and I connect the dots and everything inside of me spins out of control because I want to protect you and yet at the same time, fucking…" he grinds his teeth, "...rip you to shreds."
You raise your head. He is crying. You don’t call him out on it because you know that sometimes one needs to cry without the other calling attention to it.
"Hurting you sounds like torture to me. I know we don’t know each other very well, but I don't want to hurt you. And they made me lose control and almost kill you blindly because it was fun to them."
He grunts and rubs the tears away.
"They poked around in my back and drugged me with your blood because it was funny to them. I am a person with feelings and they turned me into a living experiment."
He sobs with his teeth gritted.
"And I hate them so much."
"I hate them too."
"And I can’t live on until I know they are both dead ___."
Your eyes lock. His jaw is clenched.
"I'm not like you. I don’t want to find mercy in my heart for them. I just want to have their hearts in my hands and their corpses turning to dust by my feet. Don’t make me hold back ___ not after everything they have done. Don’t do this to me."
"I can’t stop you", you whisper, lowering your eyes, "I know that I can’t stop you. Just-"
You stop talking when you see the heartbreaking disappointment on his face. You know that he was right. That monsters like Jimin and Namjoon didn’t deserve to continue torturing the world. So why was it so hard for you to accept that their deaths would be the only solution? Perhaps it was your obsession with doing good or perhaps it was the aching reminder that killing them could also mean killing Taehyung. And as much as you hate him right now, you don’t want to see him dead.
"-don’t get hurt in the process", you say, keeping your worries for Taehyung to yourself.
You know he wouldn’t understand you. None of them do. Taehyung was just another one of the monsters to Jungkook. Taehyung was just another one of the evil bloodsuckers to Seokjin. And Taehyung was just another annoyance to kill for Yoongi. Only Hoseok showed a little sympathy for your conflicted feelings. So you stayed silent, because you know that telling Jungkook right now would have ended in a fight.
"I promise you that I won’t and even if I do, it would have been worth it."
Your eyes lock again. The comforting feelings of before have long ceased to exist. Now all there is left is the aching hole in your heart and stomach-twisting regret.
"I never would have imagined", you press out.
"How much my life will change."
"You should have chatted up someone else, shouldn’t you?"
You snort and laugh painfully.
"Honestly sometimes I wish I did."
"Right now too?"
"No, right now would have been sad to miss out on."
"You just never should have chatted up Alpha."
"Yeah, I guess….that's true…"
Your heart is breaking all over again. Perhaps you really shouldn’t have.
They were talking when you enter the sitting room. It becomes dead silent instantly. They stare at you as if you were a ghost. Yoongi is the first to speak.
“You’re finally done withering away?” he asks coldly.
You scoff, “thanks you’re so nice.”
Hoseok is on his feet in an instant, rushing to you to take your hand.
“Come on ___ take my chair I can stand”, he says, tugging you to the armchair he had been lounging in before.
“No actually, I think I’m gonna stand for a bit. Thanks though”, you dismiss him.
Hoseok scratches the back of his neck, “yeah uhm, that’s fine too.”
“Do you want something to eat? I can make you something”, Seokjin offers.
You shake your head, “I’m not hungry.”
“But you haven’t had breakfast yet or lunch or dinner for that matter.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Fine, then I’ll make you tea.”
Seokjin studies your features before he looks at Yoongi and Hoseok.
“Then let’s do something else”, Hoseok offers, “let’s do some pilates or yoga”, he says and makes funny poses with body, sticking out his booty and wiggling his arms.
You laugh for the briefest of moments, feeling lighter in your chest even if it only lasted for a moment. It is exactly how you told Jungkook. Seokjin is offering you food and Hoseok makes a fool out of himself. They are so adorably predictable.
Hoseok grins proudly, nudging your arm.
“Come on ___ do what I do”, he says, raising his leg weirdly.
You try to do what he is doing, giving up after a second.
“I’m too tired”, you say, shoulders sagging.
“That’s fine. Wanna play board games?”
“Are you guys done pretending as if you care?” Yoongi spits.
“Excuse me?” Hoseok gasps, voice low in annoyance, “we do care, you dumb nut.”
Yoongi chuckles deeply “sure, I can smell the honesty in your sweat.”
Hoseok smells himself, furrowing his brows.
“I think your own rudeness is confusing your nose.”
“Good one”, Yoongi clicks his tongue, “but board games and yoga aren’t going to make ___ stronger. She needs proper training.”
“She just left her room, give her some time”, Seokjin says, earning himself a dark look from Yoongi.
“I’ve given her enough time. Two weeks are long enough to sulk”, he looks into your eyes, “you need to start training, unless you want to end up dead.”
“I think I can have one day of rest before I start”, you grumble.
“You had enough days of rest.”
“Yoongi”, you warn, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “I got broken up by my boyfriend in the rudest way possible and almost died. You don’t want to boss me around today.”
Yoongi grinds his teeth and sighs.
“Fine, but tomorrow we’ll start.”
You click your tongue and send him an annoyed glare before turning your attention to a nervously fumbling Hoseok and a frowning (at Yoongi) Seokjin.
“I actually have something I want to show you guys”, you tell them.
“Of course, show us”, Hoseok says, nodding his head vigorously.
“We’re interested, show us”, Seokjin says, taking a step closer.
You disappear out of the doorframe just enough to grab whatever you had been hiding.
They are all watching you, even Yoongi does.
“Look”, you say, tugging your secret into view.
“Hey”, Jungkook says, waving his hand shyly.
“No”, Hoseok presses out and begins crying in an instant, throwing his hand over his mouth.
“JK!” Seokjin exclaims, jumping at Jungkook to give him the tightest koala hug ever.
It makes Jungkook stumble and laugh before he wraps his arms around Seokjin. Hoseok follows soon after, colliding with their bodies in a dramatic sob.
“Jungkookie, my Jungkookie”, he wails, covering his cheek with kisses.
Jungkook giggles and laughs, accepting Hoseok into the hug.
And as the three friends hug as if it was their last hug on earth, you make your way over to Yoongi. He had watched the three vampires before but shifts his eyes to you, watching you sit down on the sofa beside him.
“Did you do that?” he asks you.
You look over at Jungkook. He is currently trying to calm down Hoseok, who is still crying in relief and happiness. Jungkook giggles, “don’t cry hyung”, he says and smooches Hoseok’s cheek. Seokjin smiles and ruffles Jungkook’s hair before squishing his cheek against his shoulder and hugging his waist, “don’t ever leave us again, JK”, he says with a big pout. Jungkook smiles, resting his head against Seokjin’s head, “I promise.” And like that the three of them are hugging again, jumping in a circle while hollering happily.
You smile, averting your gaze back to Yoongi.
“Maybe”, you shrug your shoulders, “I just talked to him and all of a sudden he began moving. He didn’t even realise it at first.”
“Mhm”, Yoongi says and nods his head, “thanks, at least I don’t have to force him to heal now.”
You click your tongue, “we’ve been trying to get him to heal for three weeks, what makes you think you could have been successful?”
“I have my methods, trust me.”
You scrunch your nose up in disgust.
“What?” he hisses.
“Nothing, I just can’t stand you.”
He scoffs, “I saved your ungrateful ass, show a little more respect.”
You fluster, feeling your cheeks heat up. He inspects it and scoffs, standing up from his chair.
He stomps over to the three friends, breaking them up forcefully.
“Hey what the hell?”
“What’s your problem man?”
Yoongi grabs Jungkook’s arm, “come, let’s start with training.”
“W-what?” he stutters, looking at Yoongi with big eyes.
“Yoongi! Give him at least one night of rest, he just healed”, you say.
Yoongi looks over his shoulder, frowning. Then he looks at Jungkook.
“Tell me Jungkook, what do you currently want to do to ___?” he asks him, keeping up the eye contact with you.
“I…uhm…” Jungkook lowers his head, “I don’t want to say.”
You all know what he wants to do to you. Rip you apart.
Yoongi clicks his tongue and sends you a victorious smirk, “let’s go eat Kook, I’ll show you how to hunt animals.”
“Really? You can do that?” Jungkook gasps, seeming excited.
“Yes, so let’s go.”
“Okay this would actually be so cool, I always wanted to know if there are options for me. Okay, I have a question, whenever I feed I…”, Jungkook’s voice drowns out more and more as they leave.
You look at Hoseok and Seokjin and in return they look at you.
“I can’t decide if I like this dude or not”, Hoseok says, scratching his chin.
“I can’t stand him”, Seokjin says and crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“I’d like him more if he wasn’t so rude all the time”, you say.
“What the hell happened to you?” Seokjin asks, watching you waddle into the dining room.
“Nothing, just…sore muscles”, you lie. Sitting down hurts, eliciting a quiet hiss from you.
Hoseok and Seokjin look at your face then exchange a look.
“What did you do in your room yesterday?” Hoseok asks, “you didn’t come out the entire day and now you are limping.”
“I told you, it’s nothing”, you dismiss them.
You look up when they don’t say anything. Seokjin has his eyebrows cocked up. Hoseok stopped drinking his blood bag.
“Your heart skipped a beat”, Seokjin explains, eyes scanning up and down your body, “what did you do?”
“Urgh guys come on”, you groan.
“Tell us”, Hoseok insists, leaning closer to you.
“Fine oh my god”, you give in, “I may have trained with some pillows and then I slipped and fell on my tailbone.”
Hoseok snorts before breaking into loud laughter.
“You did what? Oh god this is hilarious. How the hell did you manage to slip?”
“Wow thanks, I already regret telling you”, you murmur, pouting.
“Sorry, sorry I can’t help it. Imagining you slipping on a pillow is just far too hilarious”, Hoseok says, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes.
“I didn’t slip on the pillow, I tried to kick the pillow and slipped on the carpet which resulted in my twisting my ankle and then falling on my tailbone”, you grumble, making him laugh even harder.
“Even better, shit I would have loved to see that”, he wheezes.
You punch his arm softly, “you dick, that’s so mean.”
“I’m sorry, not sorry”, he cackles, blinking at you all cutely.
You snort and look away.
“Whatever, idiot”, you murmur.
Seokjin slides a plate of porridge over to you with an amused grin plastered on his handsome face. You accept it gladly, digging in right away. His food is to die for really.
“Mornin'”, a low, groggy voice sounds from the doorframe.
Jungkook drags himself into the room, plotting down next to you with a loud yawn that exposes the back of his throat to all of you.
“Sexy”, Seokjin says, pulling a grimace.
Jungkook smacks his lips and rubs at his eyes.
“Don’t care”, he mumbles.
You study him. He didn’t even bother putting on a shirt, strutting around in his baby pink boxer briefs and white tennis socks which for some reason he pulled all the way up his calves.
“You know that ___ is here too, don’t you?” Seokjin asks further.
Jungkook sneaks a glance your way.
“Oh fuck”, he gasps, disappearing quickly.
“Did that idiot seriously not smell her?” Hoseok says, already laughing.
Jungkook appears next to you again, now dressed in a matching grey pyjama set.
“Hey ___”, he says, laughing awkwardly.
“Hello Jungkook”, you say and chuckle, “you know that you didn’t need to put on a shirt for me, don’t you? I enjoyed the view."
“Yeah, ha. Hahaha”, he scratches the back of his neck. He is so flustered, you know he is.
“Waaah look at Jungkook, our cute Casanova”, Seokjin teases.
“Seriously hyung shut up”, Jungkook hisses, eyes lowered in annoyance.
“Alright, alright”, Seokjin snorts and pushes a bowl of porridge over to Jungkook, “eat JK, you need the strength.”
Jungkook eats with a pout, keeping his eyes focused on the food almost obsessively. You are sure that if he wasn’t dead and his skin wasn’t basically the colour of fresh snow constantly, his entire face would have been beet red by now. Gosh, they are so mean sometimes. Poor Kook.
“By the way Kook, did you already hear? ___ slipped on a pillow and bruised her tailbone”, Hoseok says.
“I did not”, you send Hoseok an annoyed glare, “stop spreading fake news. I slipped on a rug, twisted my ankle and then bruised my tailbone.”
Jungkook chuckles, “good job.”
You avert your gaze to him. He is grinning boyishly, shy eyes peeking at you from under his dark mop of hair.
“Thanks”, you say and groan.
He chuckles and turns back to his porridge, eating it with significantly less tension in his shoulders. You look at Hoseok. He seems to be proud, watching Jungkook with a fond smile. So he did it on purpose. Make him chuckle with a funny story and lessen the anxiety he feels. He is so sweet sometimes.
“God fuck, you’re all awake already?”
Heads turn. Yoongi stands in the doorway, dressed in leather from head to toe and holding a bike helmet. He carries annoyance on his face.
“Why are you dressed like that?” you ask.
“It shouldn’t concern you”, he growls, eyes landing on Jungkook, “why the fuck are you still in your pyjamas? You think slacking on your training will give you results?”
Jungkook grows smaller on his chair, shoulders rising to his ears.
“No, no but I thought that maybe we, we could start later today.”
“And why should we?”
Jungkook grows even smaller, “because we trained for so long last night.”
“And I’m so tired”, he whispers.
“You think I give a shit about that?”
Jungkook cowers away, lowering his eyes.
“Answer me”, Yoongi spits, making Jungkook flinch.
“Stop talking to him like that!” you speak up.
Yoongi's eyes land on you, “stay out of this.”
“No. Jungkook doesn’t need you to be a complete dick to him.”
Yoongi studies a nervously fumbling Jungkook and then an angrily fuming you. He sighs, rolling his eyes.
“Fine, you get a day of rest. I’m off for the day either way.”
“Thank you”, Jungkook whispers, eyes landing on you.
You give him a smile, caressing his upper arm tenderly.
“Where are you going?” you ask Yoongi then.
“That’s perfect, I wanted to go to my apartment anyways”, you say, getting to your feet.
Yoongi watches you strut to him, totally flabbergasted.
“Drop me off by it before you leave to kill some deer or whatever you eat.”
“Are you serious?” he asks and turns to follow you.
You nod, “yup, just give me ten minutes I’ll go change out of my clothes”, you say, jogging up the stairs afterwards.
Yoongi actually waited for you by the end of the stairs, wearing a dark frown.
“You will not go to your apartment on your own”, he grumbles.
“Relax, vampires can’t enter.”
“And you think they will hesitate with killing everyone in the apartment block until you finally invite them inside?”
“Then come with me if you’re so pressed.”
Yoongi closes his mouth and clenches his jaw. He seems defeated.
“It’s decided then”, you say and drag him with you by the collar of his leather jacket, “come now.”
Yoongi stumbles, growling deeply and with his dark eyes glued to the back of your head. And yet somehow he isn’t shaking you off, allowing you to drag him around by his collar.
Yoongi shakes you off once you are outside and in front of his bike.
“I don’t know what you are playing today princess, but quit it”, he hisses.
“Me? I’m not playing anything”, you sit down on his bike, “can we go now?”
"I hate the new you."
"At least she is somehow trying to get her life back together. Just think back to how annoying I was two months ago."
Yoongi scoffs and takes off his jacket aggressively. He is wearing a tight turtleneck underneath, you hate how it makes your eyes linger on his torso. He steps closer then, placing the jacket over our shoulders.
“What are you doing?”
“Protection. You think I’ll let you drive without it?”
You slip your arms inside and allow him to pull the zipper closed. You were holding your breath the entire time. When you finally inhale again, the smell of his cologne greets you. Sandalwood, musky, warm. It was definitely a perfume made for men. You hate how good it smells.
Next he puts the helmet on your head without warning. It squishes your cheeks and hurts your nose as he pulls it down, making you groan.
“Warn me geez”, you hiss, moving your head away.
“Stop whining”, he growls, fastening the strap tightly.
“Jesus, you want to strangle me?”
“Sometimes yeah”, he throws back, dark eyes flitting up to yours.
You swallow and close your mouth. That’s the problem with Yoongi. You never know if he was joking or being serious.
“Can we go now?” you mumble.
He gets on his bike in front of you, looking over his shoulder.
“Hold onto me and don’t let go”, he tells you.
You wrap your arm around his waist. Yoongi looks back to the front and starts his bike. A moment later it drives off, racing down the empty roads. The early morning fog feels freezing on your skin, soaking your sweats instantly. It is almost peaceful to be so alone on the road, to greet the new day with fresh air in your lungs. You never really told anyone, but you really missed being outside. You understood why they kept you locked up in their house, it was for your own safety, but god, you really did miss being outside.
Now bear in mind, you were allowed to go outside, but only with the company of one of them. It was fun in the first weeks, you really didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts because if you had been, you would have only thought of Taehyung and everything he ruined. You liked their company back then, but now when almost two months had passed, you felt trapped in a cycle of endless same days. Wake up, talk to Hoseok and Seokjin and sometimes Jungkook too, work with Yoongi on kicks, eat lunch with Hoseok and Seokjin and sometimes Jungkook, work with Yoongi on your crossbows skills, eat dinner with Hoseok and Seokjin and sometimes Jungkook, go to sleep. It was endless and each new day felt longer and longer than the last one.
So it felt nice that you could be outside again, feel the icy air of the upcoming winter on your skin, look at the naked trees and wonder if the sun was shining behind the thick wall of clouds or if she was still sleeping soundly.
The bike slows down, rumbling quietly as Yoongi looks for a parking spot. He finds one just opposite of your apartment block. The motor turns off, you hop off and take off your helmet.
“Here your helmet”, you tell Yoongi.
“Thanks”, he grumbles, securing it on the handle. He flips the keys once, storing them in his pockets afterwards.
“What do you need here anyways?” he asks, studying the apartment block with squinted eyes.
“My plants, I need to take care of them”, you explain, crossing the road without looking.
Yoongi follows you, grabbing your arm.
“What?” you challenge.
“Don’t run away from me”, he growls, earning himself a roll of your eyes.
“I literally walked like three steps, hell can you loosen up a little?”
“No”, he shakes his head, “not when they’re still out. Who knows, maybe one of them is lingering close by, watching us and waiting for a moment where he can snatch you away.”
You scoff, “yeah sure.”
You unlock the door to the inside of your apartment block and hurry down the dark corridors. Yoongi follows you and while your steps echo in the silence, his stay inaudible.
“Besides”, you begin, “I wonder why they are still roaming around. You know given how we haven’t done anything for like two months.”
“Do you want to tell me something? Then do it clearly.”
You turn around, almost making him collide with your chest. The lights flicker above your heads, making his eyes flicker ruby each time you are in darkness.
“I just think that we are slacking. We should be doing something, capture them and finally eliminate the threat they oppose not only to us but to humanity.”
Yoongi studies your face.
“For a human you are surprisingly clever sometimes.”
“Thanks”, you say sarcastically, laughing dryly.
You turn your back to Yoongi again and begin walking. He follows you, basically breathing down your neck the entire time you climb the stairs. You get why he is that close, but man if it wasn’t that annoying you would enjoy it more.
“So? Are we finally going to do something about them?”
“Patience princess, I know you are just burning on seeing your lover again, but don’t forget that they are all hundreds and hundreds of years older than you. If they wanted to, they could eliminate you within seconds.”
“Yeah well, that’s why I’m training. You have to give it to me, I’m getting pretty good with the crossbow.”
“Pretty good isn’t enough though”, he hisses.
“Geez”, you groan, rolling your eyes, “you’re so overprotective sometimes.”
You pull out your apartment keys and unlock your door. The smell of stuffy air greets you instantly, making you cough.
“Goddamn, that place needs oxygen. Next time I won’t take a freaking week to visit it”, you mumble more to yourself than Yoongi.
You get rid of your shoes and take off Yoongi's jacket, finally turning around.
Yoongi had stopped abruptly, clenching his jaw.
“What’s the matter?”
“Invite me inside.”
“Aaaah that”, you smirk.
Yoongi lowers his eyes angrily.
“Invite me inside, princess”, he grumbles.
You giggle, shaking your head. You just want to tease him for a little.
“Princess”, he warns.
“How does it feel to be so dependent on me?” you tease, “if I wanted to, I could close the door on your stupid face and have the day of my life in here.”
He sighs tiredly, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“I’m not repeating myself.”
“Now tell me Yoongi. Why should I?” you pause dramatically, “after all you were part of Alpha too.”
“Princess seriously, invite me inside.”
You cackle and shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know….what if you are just pretending?”
“What if this is your devilish plan? Get me to my apartment and wait until I invite you inside?”
“Don’t be ridiculous”, he hisses, baring his teeth.
You giggle, turning your back to him.
“Let me inside princess!” he insists loudly, slapping the doorframe harshly.
You turn around, giving him a teasing smirk.
“Fine”, you chuckle, “you can come inside Yoongi.”
Yoongi has the door closed behind him in an instant, pressing you up against it with his knee between your legs. It makes you gasp, throat constricting in surprise.
“I don’t like the fucking games you are playing today, you hear me?” he hisses.
“Yoongi pull your knee away this instant”, you order, clasping his arms.
He pulls away immediately and steps back, fixing the heavy rings on his fingers.
“I’m warning you princess, don’t test my patience.”
“You are unbearable sometimes, for christ’s sake I just wanted to joke around with you and you go all aggression on me”, you hiss, fixing your shirt collar.
He clicks his tongue, staying silent. You think that maybe deep down your words flustered him and showed him just how annoying he can be sometimes. Or maybe that is just hopeful thinking and he thinks of absolutely nothing right now. It wouldn’t surprise you if he did.
“Either way”, you break your eyes away from him, “I’ll water my plants now. You can make yourself comfortable on the couch or whatever.”
You grab your watering can. Yoongi follows you as you walk to your kitchen. Of course he wouldn’t make himself comfortable, this man probably doesn’t even know what being comfortable means. You watch the water trickle into the can.
“I don’t like how you talk to Jungkook”, you say.
“You want to lecture me? Really?” he hisses.
“Yes”, you look at him with annoyance, “Jungkook’s a sensitive man, who thinks a lot about what people tell him or say about him and you basically verbally abusing him will only backfire in the long term.”
“I’m not abusing him.”
“Yeah maybe you think you aren’t, but trust me you are.”
“I’m not, I’m helping him.”
“I get that, but shit Yoongi would it be so hard for you to not be constantly mad at all of us?”
“How could I when you all keep testing my patience?”
“See? That’s what I mean”, you point at him, “you know, we don’t want to dislike you, but you give us literally no reason why we shouldn’t. Just once I want to see you not angry. You don’t even have to be happy, just being neutral would be enough.”
Yoongi scoffs and turns a cold shoulder to you.
“Just water your cursed plants and then leave. I’m hungry, I want to hunt.”
You click your tongue and grab the watering can. You bump shoulders with him as you hurry past him.
Your plants are all thriving and healthy, their soil may be very dry already, but that is nothing a good amount of water can’t fix.
“I’m actually helping Jungkook”, Yoongi says with his voice calm but deep.
“You know I am. Just think of him two months ago. You think he would have been able to sit next to you like he did this morning?”
You stop watering your plants for a moment. You hadn’t even thought of it that way.
“Fine, I have to give it to you. Maybe you are helping him”, you press out.
“So stop with the attitude princess, when I’m doing much more for him than any of you ever could.”
“Wow”, you scoff, “I can’t believe it. Saved yourself and ruined it again instantly.”
Your eyes meet. He clenches his jaw.
“What do you want me to say? You know how I am, I’m not going to change when my methods were successful until now”, he spits.
“Urgh seriously”, you turn away, “you are so obnoxiously stubborn.”
You stomp off to your bedroom with Yoongi following you close by.
“I’m stubborn? You were the one who ignored all of our warnings and still went out with Taehyung.”
“Don’t mention his name”, you hiss.
“Taehyung? What? Does it hurt to be reminded of your own stupidity?”
“Stop it!” you whip around, “seriously what’s your problem?”
Yoongi stares at your glassy eyes and closes his mouth.
“You are such a freaking dick, no wonder you have no friends”, you press out, rushing past him.
You need to get out of here. Your bedroom smells too much of all the memories you made with Taehyung. When he loved you for the first time, when you and him stumbled into your bedroom after being caught in the rain, when you and him held each other after he told you his secret and all the countless times you spent reading short stories to each other. You don’t need to be reminded of the trust he broke. It already hurts too much to not be with him.
“Princess come back!”
“Leave me alone”, you call back and open your front door, colliding with a hard chest.
“Oh I- shit!”
You get shaken around, the world around you is blurry. You scream, not knowing what is happening right now. Then everything stops. Your feet meet the ground again. Arms leave your body.
“Urgh”, you groan, wobbling like crazy. You gag, holding your aching stomach. It feels like you just turned and turned and turned on a carousel for three hours.
“Get over yourself”, someone spits.
You raise your head, wanting to scream.
“Quiet”, Jimin hisses, pressing his hand over your mouth, “don’t move, don’t make a sound, just. Listen.”
Your body understands. No moving. No talking. Just listening. He told you to do so.
You nod, soiling his skin with your tears. Holy fuck is this a nightmare? This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. And if it is then Yoongi was right. Jimin must have scouted out your place, must have watched you roll up to your apartment with Yoongi, must have waited for an opportunity to snatch you away. Holy shit, you are actually going to die and you can’t even fight back.
“Good”, he says, pulling his hand away and taking a step back.
He prances up and down in front of you, ruby eyes racing between nothing in particular and fangs glistening in the dim lights of the streetlamps of the park. Holy shit. This is going to be your end. He is going to kill you.
“You’re a fucking idiot”, he spits, turning to you, “why would you come back here? You can be glad I was the one being on watch duty. If he would have been the one to find you….” he trails off, blinking rapidly.
Who is he talking about? Is he talking about Taehyung? Namjoon? Someone completely different? Why hasn’t he killed you yet? What is he waiting for? You sob, body aching from being unable to move. You can barely handle it.
Jimin turns around a few times, fangs in his mouth growing as he tries to piece everything together.
“How the fuck did you survive in the first place? We ripped you apart” he yells, studying you with madness, “Yoongi that asshole, he healed you didn’t he? He did, fuck.”
He studies you from head to toe, nostrils flared.
“I knew you weren’t dead. I knew it”, he mumbles under his breath, licking over his lips repeatedly, “I knew that I heard your obnoxious heartbeat when we fled from Yoongi”, he twists his own hair, “Fuck!” his loud voice bounces off the trees, drowning out in the distance, “you should have stayed dead.”
He steps closer, raising his hand as if to slap you. You flinch, squeaking quietly. It makes him stop in an instant, angry pants fanning over your face instead. You look into his ruby eyes. He stopped. Why would he stop?
“Don’t you get it? You shouldn’t even be here now, let alone alive. If he finds out then-“, he stops talking, pressing his hand over his mouth and walking back and forth. It is as if he was in distress. As if he was fighting something inside of him.
“You know I hate you. I really, really hate you”, he hisses, “not because you are a bad person, but because you aren’t”, he storms closer, grabbing your chin, “you are literally such a good person and I fucking hate it.”
You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut.
“You made him good. Taehyung, you gave him back his humanity, made him vulnerable, reminded him what happiness feels like and I hate you for doing this to him.”
Your eyes meet.
“Do you even know how much pain you will cause him? What he will do to him because you made him weak?”
What is he talking about? Jimin clenches his jaw, squeezing your own.
“I had everything under control. I had him under control and you ruined it.”
You don’t understand. Why hasn’t he killed you yet? Is he waiting for Namjoon? Taehyung? Both of them?
“And now I am going to have to kill you. I can’t let you keep living, Taehyung thinks you are dead. It’s better to keep him in this belief.”
You sob, trying to shake your head as best as possible. Fuck, no. Now you understand. He is only toying with you. He is taking his merry time because seeing you suffer gives him some sort of sick pleasure.
“I promise you, I’ll make it quick. You won’t even feel a thing”, he whispers, tilting your head back. His fangs grow into their actual size, black veins appear on his cheeks. Jimin opens his mouth, ready to sink his razor sharp teeth into your neck.
You squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath. No, no, nononono.
“Fuck”, he growls, and stumbles back.
He swallows heavily, shaking his head a few times to fight whatever is tormenting him. Then he looks at you, ruby eyes filled with an emotion you had never seen on him before. Regret.
“You stupid, annoying girl. Couldn’t you have stayed away from us?” he spits, drawing closer.
He wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing hard. You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe!
“I’ll make it quick, I promise you I’ll make it quick”, he whispers, squeezing harder, “this is mercy what I am doing here. You understand? Everything inside of me screams at me to rip you apart in the most painful of ways and yet here I am choking you death like I want to commit some sick crime of passion.”
He pulls you closer, holding you up with his arm around your waist.
“Perhaps it is a sick crime of passion. Perhaps all that hatred I have for you is making me weak. Perhaps I am doing to you what Taehyung should have done to you ages ago”, he releases your neck for a only a moment, allowing you to pant for air, “Perhaps I simply want to see the life die out in your eyes to make sure that this time around you actually stay dead”, he rasps, closing his fingers again.
You gasp and squeak, clawing at his chest for dear life. Jimin draws you closer, resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes.
“I don’t actually hate you, you know?” he whispers, loosening his grip again.
You wheeze and gag. Air, you need air.
Jimin leans closer, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, “I just hate that you are the reason Taehyung hurts.”
He squeezes your neck again and this time around you know that he is not intending to stop. He is planning on killing you and he will be successful. You can feel it. Death is creeping its way up your body. Cold and painful, as if you were standing barefoot in snow for too long. Your eyes become heavy. Your head is pounding. Air. You need air. Open and close and open and close and close. Your eyes stay closed. Your head falls back, your legs give up. Air.
You gasp, ripping your eyes open.
He stopped choking you.
Air! Finally! You need to breathe!
Jimin looks into your eyes, holding your face between his hands. There is urgency in his features, his lips are moving but you can’t hear what he is saying.
“….did you get it?” his voice slowly comes back again, as if you were finally submerging from water, “Save. Him.”
He disappears then, leaving you to drop to the ground like a ragdoll.
You however fall into arms.
“Princess? Fucking hell princess, don’t you fucking dare pass out on me now”, Yoongi's voice, far and distant. The water is swallowing you up again, you are sinking, drowning in darkness.
Save him. Like an echo in a forest Jimin's voice reverberates in your brain.
The Black Dragons founding members were famous people throughout the region all right.
But be that as it may, they were still foolish teens who occasionally go to school, joke around, and laugh at each other’s expenses at the end of the day.
They ride their bikes sometimes at the wee hours of the night, racing and pitting themselves against each other on the streets. How the first person to arrive at their favorite spot, which was the Kantou’s secluded riverside, would be the last one to play on their ridiculous made-up game, and how the slowest founder of the night would be the poor, very much bullied man that would confess his love worries out in the open.
And it utterly makes no sense how Shinichiro would always be the winner of their mini competition. When in fact, he has the most annoying troubles when it comes to romance. How Takeomi would be the next one, followed by their soft giant Benkei, and last but definitely not the slowest, the infamous White Leopard, Wakasa.
He didn’t talk at all the first time he lost, of course. Just opted for a glare to his so-called friends, and offered them a light-handed brawl instead of ranting about the yearnings of his rather cold heart.
And it just so happened that this time around, he finally overtook Shinichiro’s winning place. He parked his beloved bike half a mile away from his leader just because he could, and he would really like to gloat on his vexed face that he had to chill somewhere with how crappy slow he was compared to him.
Until there’s a sudden ringing in his pants’ pocket.
He grabbed his phone, carelessly opened the new message, but he didn’t expect it would come from the main source of his more than platonic concerns, freezing him up and warming his cheeks all at the same time.
Waka, I already washed your handkerchief! Thanks again (^_^)
He read your text over and over, letting himself be immersed with this tingly feeling that only you could bring about before castigating himself, knowing you must be awaiting for his nonsensical reply.
Now, his problem was exactly just that.
He didn’t know what to say.
And the sole reason why he agreed to this shit-eating contest that his friends had somehow come up with was to discover what he was supposed to say to a girl he likes.
“Can’t wait to hear you whining about love, Waka-chan!” He heard Shinichiro yell as he zoomed past his parked spot.
Now he’s just going to aim for second place. He’s sure that the others would also be nearing them, and he didn’t exactly want to end up at the last place again. He knew that these guys wouldn’t put up with his evasiveness about this certain topic.
Not again. Not tonight. Not ever.
Yet there was a following text, and Wakasa was ultimately done.
He sent a quick ‘what’, berating himself again for such boorishness of a response. And he ought to type, say he was currently busy and would come back to you later on. Maybe even beg for your forgiveness for his uncouth attitude until the sounds of roaring engines sped past him.
Two motorbike engines just sped past him.
He hurried to rev up his own bike, almost throwing his phone away before he realized he had nothing else to contact you with. It frustrated him so much how he’s suddenly in last place. And while he tried to catch up to his laughing gang mates, his mind rapidly browsed through lame and strained as hell excuses as a feeble attempt to hide his adoration of you in case he lost this time again.
“Stupid girl. Stupid boy. Stupid love,” was all he could mutter.
not proofread. i just find the idea really cute. gotta love these boys. hehe. and i dedicate this to @mochi-coffee for being such a wakasa brainrot enabler hahahahaha <3
taglist. @baji-san, @gwynsapphire, @eriskaitto and @manjiroarchiviste.
ummm boxer!barry / druig is killing me im fully stalking his trainer’s page for more vids of him throwing punches and currently dying 🤪
I have an angsty scenario that’s been brewing in my mind all morning where reader is dating one of barry/druig’s competitors but being treated so badly and he absolutely hates that bc you always come to fights to support your bf and he really wishes you were supporting him (which tbh you’re secretly cheering for them anyways)
I feel like druig would be cockier and very outspoken about how your bf sucks, always taunting him in the ring about how he could treat fuck you so much better whereas Barry is much more chivalrous? Almost fighting for your hand? Either way they love putting on a show for you and they’re always soft with you and you know it’s only a matter of time before you leave ur stupid bf for the real winner.
(yes I inject myself into imaginary hurt/comfort scenes so that I can be saved by druig what abt it)
I am obsessed with this idea so much, like so much, like severely sorely very tempted to write something about it...👀
Honestly anything boxer! Druig/Barry gets me all fired up but now bestie you wanna add some sweet sweet angst and hurt / comfort into the mix??? Oh my godssss I am wreck just thinking about it😵💫😮💨💀
(also don’t even worry about it babe I do the exact same thing)
Um okay yeah so maybe I’ll do a lil something on this, just not sure whether to have it with Druig or Barry, thoughts / votes anyone?? (leave them in the replies/comments as my asks are still closed atm)
Here’s a list of all my favorite steve rogers fics I’ve read lately, I hope you’ll enjoy them as much as I did! if you have any fic recs of your own pls send them thanks!
Note: Please pay attention to the warnings
Thank you @firefly-graphics for the dividers :)
Locked Out by @kayteewritessteve Modern AU
A much needed trip to the laundry room takes a turn for the worse when you realize you’ve locked yourself out of your apartment.
Cross the Street by @anika-ann A request
You're about to cross the street, but you're listening to music, so absorbed in your favorite song that you don't notice a car speeding towards you. Someone yanks you back onto the sidewalk.
Bullies, Bullied by @anika-ann Half headcanon
Steve doing little acts of service… meaning he’d give people working at the Avengers Tower who are jerks a taste of their own medicine in almost innocent ways. And maybe entertaining you, the girl he had an eye on for a while, in the process. When you’re the one bullied though… there’s no innocent way. That man is going to pay.
Drunk In Love by @bonky-n-steeb
Steve is drunk not only on Asgardian mead, but also on your love.
Making It Count by @bonky-n-steeb A request
super fluff moment with Nomad Steve.
Love Thy Neighbour by @bonky-n-steeb Neighbours AU
Steve isn’t as innocent as you had thought
Say You Love Me by @bonky-n-steeb Royal AU
Steve loves you; you love Steve. There’s just one catch, Steve is a prince and you are his page.
Eve’s Apple by @bonky-n-steeb Best friend’s dad AU
When Sarah invites you for a sleepover, you expect to meet some regular dad, not the dilf of your dreams.
Secret and Sins by @kayteewritessteve Mobster AU
You flee from an abusive situation and find yourself on the other side of the country, creating new friends and possibly finding new love. But will you be able to escape your past? To truly move on with your life? Or will everything come crashing down around you in the blink of an eye?
If You Only Knew by @kayteewritessteve Modern AU
You arrive home one day to find a wedding invite for two of your best friends from high school. You knew this day was going to come eventually, but even with that said, you weren’t prepared to return home. At least not after 7 years of avoiding Buckhannon, West Virginia. Or rather, avoiding him; your ex-best friend and the secret love of your life. But maybe it was finally time to face your past, to face him and everything else that happened on that horrible night.
Love and War by @kayteewritessteve Mythology AU
In a harsh medieval world, you set out on a perilous quest that will lead you onto a forbidden land. A land ruled and controlled by a ruthless Warlord King, one who does not look favourably upon trespassers of any kind, and punishes all with an iron fist. You may not know exactly where this quest will end, but what you do know is you will forever be altered by it. And that knowledge alone is what truly terrifies you the most.
The Wonder of You by @panicfob Girl in the chair!reader
You work for the Avengers but have never actually met any of them. Steve Rogers falls for the girl across the compound cafeteria to whom he’s never actually spoken. Stubbornness, longing, and identity confusion ensues.
Beautifully unfinished by @kayteewritessteve Modern AU, best friends to lovers
One foolish outburst, one moment of weakness at the worst possible time, and everything goes up in smoke. Who knew finally voicing your true, deep-rooted feelings, would lead to the complete destruction of your most cherished friendship?
Drunk Twitter by @kayteewritessteve journalist!reader
One stupid drunken night leads to a very, very uncomfortable week from hell. That only gets worse when you are forced to face the problems, that your drunken escapades caused, head on. Yeah, you are vowing now to never ever drink again.
Does It Feel The Same When She Calls Your Name? by @panicfob accountant!reader
After a year of friendship, Steve kisses you. Will he give you ultimate happiness, or will he break your heart and walk away from the pieces?
Traveling with Steve Rogers/Captain America Would Include... by @brrahbrrahcharacterimagines
hello, I hope you are well, I want to ask you a question that may be stupid, I know that bbg is a stunt, that is, it is used for promotion but it is not entirely clear to me, the promotion that an artist needs is for the gp, how Is it useful to use the child for that? attracts attention but from its own fans not from someone else that's why I still don't understand how it works
*Sorry let me warn you before anything else that this is going to be a long answer and I completely missed the point I guess... but I just started typing like crazy and I just thought I should share all my thoughts because why the fuck not I just need to get things out of my system at this point*
Anon, remember when Louis said "cause nobody cares when you're boring"? Stunts are exactly about that, to make a fuss, to create narratives, to make people relate, to keep people interested and talking. Stunts are not exclusively used to bring new people in, it's also used to engage. People love to talk about artists' personal lives, everyone loves gossip. And if we think about it, when Harry and Louis are in a position where they can't talk about a massive part of their personal lives, they basically become the two of the most boring people on the planet. They will never be involved in rumours and gossip.... that's why there's no closeting without stunts. They need to give people something to relate to and to talk about, something to make people think they "know" them. Imagine - in a scenario where larries also don't exist - if there were no stunts over the last decade... people would know nothing about them, they wouldn't even be able to speculate about what their songs are about. And fans don't like to be left out like that, we like to know everything and feel included.
When the news broke about babygate, it was a huge scandal. It was a very fragile time for One Direction, they had a hiatus planned, Zayn had just left... so it was clearly a massive publicity push. It crossed the borders of the fandom, I remember literally seeing about it on the news. Everyone was talking about it and it really brought the attention back to the band and especially to Louis that was fading in the background, and it kept him relevant for a while. And then over the years, they just kept the narrative rolling.... the same way they do with Eleanor. It's a backstory for Louis' life, and that's how they have been using it nowadays. When there's something to promote, instead of talking exclusively about his music with *no context*, they talk about his "life", about his kid, the mini-me articles... or anything people can relate to. The pattern is very clear, promo season is when the stunts are all over the place. That is one of the main reasons why I personally think babygate keep happening - besides punishment, but this would be a whole new post.
Look at the last few months with all the fuss about the kid showing up again in Louis' life, it's pure chaos. And the controversy about the kid not being his just fan the flames even more. Nothing brings the fandom more alive than that. This could be why they're pushing babygate again after so many years, to be fair. Louis' fanbase skyrocketed over the pandemic, so maybe that's what shifted. I don't think the intention has been bringing new people in, they're targeting this to the fans. Maybe they're building a backstory with this situation for some reason... I don't know. I see a lot of people concerned and confused on why the press is not picking up the stories, about Christmas or the tweet. But I think this is actually quite reasonable, 1) because social media is much more relevant than headlines and tabloids nowadays, stunts don't work the same way now they did back in 2010. This is how things work in 2022 and with Holivia it became crystal clear that Instagram and "organic" content is much more effective now. And 2) if this is a backstory being build for some reason, everything that is happening right now will be relevant in the future and they can easily bring back "the time Louis and Freddie spent Christmas together" or whatever.
If you’re still doing the ask game, can I get stuff about Shino? I love your brain 😍
ahh sure, sure
favorite thing about them
—i like that he's so annoyed when people forget about him, and yet he doesn't really go out of his way to interact with people. he does things on his own terms and at his own pace but he still considers the people around him very affectionately, and is hurt when they don't seem to reciprocate his quiet attentions.
least favorite thing about them
— he has bugs living in his body and in his bones. i don't want to think about that!!! i don't think of myself as somebody who is bad with bugs, but if there's more than 7 of the same kind of bug in one place, i will start to wig out a little
— HMMMMM hinata and kiba both. i've said before that i think their team is really well balanced, you have somebody who is quiet and terribly insecure, you have another who is quiet and very secure, and then you have a loud one. I feel like between them all they make up a very well balanced group, socially.
—i do not think much about shipping
—i do not think much about shipping
—the aburame family is very tight knit, very supportive, and generally very good at reading each others moods and intentions. they're not a very talkative family but they all pay a lot of attention to each other, and most things are left unsaid or in implications. growing up in this environment, shino's an incredibly indirect kind of person. as he's gotten older he's gotten more and more blunt, because the effort of going to indirect effforts to commuunicate with people who do not seem to know how to pick up his signals, is fucking exhausting. he just says shit now.
—ah...i don't know if i have any unpopular opinions about him. i think a friendship between him and kankuro would be hilarious. is that unpopular? both of them are relatively lonely and quiet, but also okay being alone. i feel like they would each think theyre doing the other person a favor by hanging out with a known freak like them.
kankuro might especially be like "this guys scary and his bugs are awful but you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer!" and so he starts hanging around shino to get info on the bugs and how to deal with them. and he pretends to be interested in shino and his bugs and makes overt gestures of friendship, and shino, who is often forgotten, is flattered by the intention. and is like "well. i suppose i should introduce you to my family. and also to my team"
and kiba is like "fuck yeah lmfao this dude is sooo easy to trick" but as shino and him talk more hes like "wuh oh this dudes lonliness is a harsh mirror to my own! girl help, i'm empathizing with the bug guy!!!!"
anyway. this conversation happens:
shino: what if the black ant used real ants
kankuro: you disgust me.
kankuro: but. that would be kind of cool honestly
for what it's worth, shino is on the other side of the friendship like "this suna kid is so fucking desperate for friends; his flattery is intense. and his manners are maybe worse than kiba's (is he a feral child raised by puppets?) clearly he needs it and i mean he's not horrible company. i will indulge him."
so they both lend up pointing at each other like. "i am doing this for you, because you clearly need it," but truthfully they make the friendship for themselves, because they dooo need it.
song i associate with them
—Boys Will Be Bugs by Cavetown bc i mean.
I'm a dumb teen boy
I eat sticks and rocks and mud
I don't care about the government
And I really need a hug
I feel stupid (stupid)
Pretend it doesn't bother me
I'm not very strong but
I'll fuck you up if you're mean to bugs
i don't think that shino struggles w/ toxic masculinity all that much tbh which is what the thrust of the song is about, but i do think he probably struggles with trying to understand social conventions and which ones he has to adhere to and which ones he's only expected to adhere to
n there are lines in there like
"Ain't that how it's s'posed to be? Though it isn't me
Boys will be bugs right?"
which i feel is better suited but still not all the way there. anyway, a song for a teenage boy that wants to protect the small and innocent alien things which remind him of himself, but is grappling with the expectations he feels are being demanded of him. this is a very obvious pick for shino but i hope it's not boring because of that.
favorite picture of them
i like when he hides his whole self. personal privacy icon.
Rating the homoerotic tension between all opposing leaders
@quetzalpapalotl asked for this, so I shall deliver
(note: I will use the japanese names for the animes)
G1: Optimus Prime and Megatron
They got that homoeroticism alright, seen clearly in their hilarious banter and one-liners.
Also, Megatron kept clones of the guy. That is the most villain homoroticism you can think of. 10/10
G1: Rodimus Prime and Galvatron
They got some carnal stuff going on, I mean this?
That's some chef kiss stuff right there!
Sadly, their homoeroticism isn't continued that much in season 3, and Galvatron cries out for Ultra Magnus' blood a few times. 6/10
Headmasters: Fortress Maximus and Megazarak
Oh dear this is such a one-sided dynamic!
Megazarak is all about wanting to take revenge on Fortress for casting him out of their home planet Master, but Fortress never acknowledges that!
Not even a "Ah, Megazarak hates me for this", like he legit couldn't give a shit about that dude's reason if he tried! 0/10
Masterforce: Ginrai and Overlord
I'm writing this only to gush about these two because I LOVE THEM!
They have my favourite opposing leader dynamic in all TF media I watched.
I mean it starts with Ginrai losing to Overlord on their first fight! He almost dies, and I love it! Because after that, Ginrai starts to be fearful about fighting again, something he pushes through because his need to protect Earth is greater than his fear! QuQ
And when that stupid orb Devil Z is vocal about hating humanity, Overlord seeks to defeat Ginrai, his enternal rival, with just pure strength instead of any robot gadgets. He needs Ginrai to prove the strength of his own humanity.
And MATES, when that stupid orb Devil Z wants to kill Overlord, who saves him? GINRAI DOES! Why? Because of his humanity!
They have a rivalry going on as two leaders of opposing sides, but they connect over their shared humanity! Humanity that is defined by mercy and love!
Is it homoerotic??? MAYBE NOT, BUT I LOVE IT ANYWAY! QnQ
At the very least, I find this little fight scene to be homoerotic, the way Ginrai traps Overlord in that hold and how Overlord says Ginrai's name, das nice- ~
10/10, I don't care that Overlord is two people and half woman
Victory: Star Saber and Deszaras
I have to give credit to their homoeroticism for their last fight at least, that was nice!
I also liked that Des' super weapon is connected to his crotch, that adds a little naughty touch.
But come on Des, you can't be all erotic with your enemy-boo if you never get out of your stupid throne! And Star Saber? Why do you never care to engage your rival with something personal once? Huh? Get petty, get nasty! Don't just stand there not caring and just spouting heroic bullshit!
They hardly even try :/ 2/10
Beast Wars: Optimus Primal and Megatron
Primal and Megatron just don't do that stuff, really. Megatron tried once when he wanted Primal to join him, but thats about it. Megatron has plenty of homoeroticism, but not much for Primal u.u 1/10
Beast Wars II: Lio Convoy and Galvatron
Lio Convoy and Galvatron had one moment of gay, and it was when Galvatron helped to save Gaia from destruction. Lio Convoy offered him peace, which Galvs refused.
This would be about it, really. 1/10
Beast Wars Neo: Big Convoy and Magmatron
Magmatron got a bit more heat for Big Convoy, like he really wants to defeat him after having lost once before. Sadly, we just don't see much of that.
One episode has them fight, but then never again.
The only other good scene I could remember is when Unicron "kills" Magmatron, and Big Convoy wants to save him. Big Convoy also gave Magnmatron credit for trying to defeat Unicron - He did that before anyone else did!
We could have seen more, but I liked their dynamic overall! 3/10
Beast Machines: Optimus Primal and Megatron
Primal and Megatron do hate each other so much in this show, but its not gay.
It doesn't have the fun part of teasing and getting under your rivals skin, its just hatred. They just want to beat the shit out of each other. (and Megatron even does!)
It's engaging enough, but just not gay 0/10
Car Robots: Fire Convoy and Gigatron (RiD01)
These two have a similar problem as Star Saber and Des - Gigatron just hardly leaves his room, so they hardly ever fight!
They get this bitter exes talk in the first episode, but then we just never see that again, really.
The only saving grace is Black Convoy, who counts as love baby between them. He's worth 1 point! 1/10
Micron Densetsu: Convoy and Megatron (Armada)
Their final fight. Just that last fight. It says it all. 10/10 for that last fight.
Overall though? They weren't built up properly, so I can't give them a high score 5/10
Superlink: Grand Convoy and Galvatron (Energon)
Galvatron in this show is so unhinged and feral for Convoy, I just love it! That dude gets a mental breakdown about the idea of someone else killing Convoy!
Sadly, Convoy doesn't return the feralness and wish to fight as much u.u 6/10, and its all from Galvs
Galaxy Force: Galaxy Convoy and Master Megatron (Cybertron)
There is one gay scene between them and it's this
The rest is just eh. I appreciate Master Megatron's determination to be a constant pain in the ass for Galaxy Convoy, so he gets points for that. 3/10
TFA: Optimus Prime and Megatron
I would share a video that shows how homoerotic their final dynamic is, but I can only share one video per post and I refuse to take down the one with Ginrai and Overlord, so just enjoy me quoting:
Megatron: The question should be, don't you recognize your own enemy?
Megatron: Ah, then you do remember my name! Pity I can't remember yours.
Megatron: You're a persistent little Autobot!
Optimus: My name is Optimus Prime!
Megatron: If I cannot save my clones, I'll at least have the satisfaction of destroying you, Optimus Prime!
Optimus: So you can remember my name.
Three different scenes, all building up for some really nice gay :D 10/10
TFP: Optimus Prime and Megatron
They got something sweet - A nice angsty backstory of friends being torn apart!
Optimus fights because he has to without being happy about it, while Megatron lost sight of what was once important and only cares about rubbing his victory under Optimus' mask!
It's tragic, its intense, its gay as fuck, and it deserves a 10/10 for that scene in which Optimus lets his tires run over Megan's face
RiD15: Bumblebee and Steeljaw
I will say one thing about these two - Steeljaw really learnt to hate Bee on a personal level!
At first, Bee was just obstacle for him, but the longer their fight went on, the more anger Steeljaw showed him! It got feral man, it got feral!
Steeljaw got to a point where he was like "and fuck you in specific!"
And then they even worked together at the end, but not before Bee kept Steeljaw in a cage for a while - das gay UvU 8/10
Transformers GO!: Optimus Prime and Dragotron
Hahaha, gosh, the gayest thing in that toy ad with an intro are the bois! I guess 0/10
Prime Wars: Optimus and Megatron
I wouldn't have added them because they are neither leaders nor enemies, but Barbie said to do it-
They got some nice old man gay energy, simply because they get along. They got some chats, Optimus trying to be nice and peaceful and Megatron is all condescending in a jokey way uvu
"You're precious!" best line.
They work together perfectly without words and that creates some nice homoerotic moments! 8/10
Cyberverse Optimus Prime and Megatron
Gay enough to actually manage a mild peace and for Megatron to die pathetically in another mech's arms, being called old friend. Which is just old men talk for lover.
Fine, I'll give'em some points. But don't complain 7/10
War for Cybertron Optimus Prime and Megatron
I wouldn't say it was gay as such - They both had their own inner turmoil to deal with and their dynamic was festered with all that.
Megatron hated Optimus and blamed him for everything going wrong, refusing to work with him and was determined to view him as the bad guy while he is the hero!
And that is hardly gay drama 2/10
Extra: War for Cybertron Optimus Primal and Beast! Megatron
They didn't interact much but they had one fight in which they had some nice conversation OuO Imma give that some points! 5/10