#both are probably fucked up mentally yet they’re there for one another. somehow.

[rianafying]

i’m starving and i’m hungover and i’m in trouble. my sd card got corrupted and i might lose all the work i’ve done in january, which is a LOT of work. i just need to talk to my friends. the timing is bad because they’re either at work or asleep rn. i’m about to throw up.

it’s fine i reached them, after they woke up. spoke to friends, i feel better emotionally. but worse physically because it’s been so long since i’ve had some food. any food. there’s so much shit i need to buy but no money to buy them. i’m scared that one of these days i’ll have to resort to ebegging. i don’t want to do that. because im not even doing that bad but i feel terrible. and im prone to heavily catastrophizing every situation im faced with. somehow i have linked this sd card failure to the downfall of my career that i have worked so hard to build. if you dont have catastrophizing anxiety, you dont know what it feels like to imagine every single worst possible outcome and believe it to be true. but somehow throughout my life, it has been. what i feared kept coming true. but fearing it and being paralysed by it, didn’t help my case. apparently it’s in my brain chemistry to do this and also to have chronic pain. apparently there’s something wrong in my hypothalamus, pituitary gland, amygdala, hippocampus, and prefrontal cortex. they’re are all fucked up and feel wayyy more pain than is ever necessitated. i feel like im spiralling out of control at a faster rate than i can reel it back in. for most of my life ive been getting wounded more than i could heal. and now im limping my way through life, and hating almost every second of it despite trying so hard not to.

i had a full breakdown today, worse than other breakdowns. i feel super defeated. people are being nice to me. somehow that is making me feel even worse. things keep going wrong. there is no escaping tragedy.

day 3 of this same journal entry. i’m officially out of money. even my coins. i have a little bit of usd in my absolute emergency fund, but i really don’t want to have to touch that. i have a week to go before i get paid a bit of money. which will still not be enough because i had to use afterpay to buy some necessary stuff at kmart, and now i have to pay it back. things rlly are tough out here. thinking i should not fix my laptop and instead spend that money like normal. like use it to get by nicely for a while. then what? at what point will i be able to get a real regular job? i found out for sure this month that i can’t make it to work on 25% of days due to my illness. so what work could i do. rlly upset about losing the images on my sd card. i haven’t permanently lost them yet, but, it’s far too expensive to recover. i was considering recovering the data when im in bangladesh but i dont think id trust the data recovery service in dhaka anyway. they’ll probably fail at the task and also ruin my card. things are so wrong rn. my microwave, my pan, my passport, my myki, my financial situation, the burnt skin on my face, my psoriasis and arthritis, my hair situation, my multiple severe nutritional deficiencies and chronic pain, my various mental illnesses, my awful dirty room, my inability to work on any, let alone every, one of these problems. i just get paralysed and bed rot for days. this is officially too much for me. it’s too many things to deal with. i’m not built for even half of this. how can i give up without like kms, like what’s another way to give up? because bed rotting isn’t cutting it. i could really use some help. when i asked for help, my uncle said to visit my friend in sydney, or to visit bangladesh, neither of which is going to actually help my situation, because ill be miserable regardless of where i am, until my problems have been resolved. and both of these things are expensive as fuck, like, what’s a girl supposed to do. i don’t wanna go on a $200 trip to sydney when my sd card requires a $400 data recovery. that’s just the tip of the iceberg that is my situation.

no amount of talking to people, or going on trips is going to solve my problems. which is painful for me to say because i’ve been dying to do something fun for once. not that i don’t have fun in melbourne i do, but that’s cause i try to enjoy work, and romanticise the life i already have. and because im not yet a local local, i can still experience melbourne like a tourist. with fresh eyes. anyway, yeah, im deleting bumble because its stupid, let’s be real im never gonna go on a date w a strangers plus i dont even respond to people because im obviously not ready to actually give this a chance. not yet at least. costar says i let my need for stability stunt relationship growth. but i’m okay with that, or at least i would be if i had any stability. right now i feel like i have the short end of every stick. no it feels like i have no stick at all. the universe or god or whatever is out there is giving me a huge middle finger and laughing at my suffering.

they say that i’m overthinking or that even if there is a problem there’s a solution. what’s the solution to not having enough money to solve my problems? by the time i might have money, these problems will have caused critical damage. what’s the solution to the weight i carry around from never feeling safe or loved my whole entire life. what’s the solution to the mother shaped void in my heart. what’s the solution to the fear of losing my sibling and friends. i cope, and i deal, but it never really goes away. even now as i’ve hit my weekly rock bottom, i’m trying to list things to be grateful for, to see the glass as half full. but i can’t lie, the glass is not half full. i’ve been running on a nearly empty tank for as long as i can remember. even if i somehow manage to get my tank full, there’s like holes in it that can never be permanently patched. i destroy everything i touch, i let down everyone i know, and i keep getting chances. i don’t need another chance. i need a break. i don’t want to prove myself, unless it is to prove that i fail.

i’m told that the broader focus of my life during this time is to clear away built-up structures that have been holding me back. excess is not always abundance. i’m supposed to decide what's worth keeping and what to pass up. apparently my sense of well-being relies on my willingness to seize new opportunities, which is a commendable move for someone who will only settle for all or nothing. “use this moment to streamline your aesthetic by getting rid of excess that no longer gives you pleasure.” this could not be more on the nose. fine i’ll pack some stuff up and head drop it in a donation bin. it will clear up some space in my room too. this might be good. give me some literal and also mental space to work with. also on the nose is “make sure you're not doing that thing where you over-intellectualize your experience, and then convince yourself that you know all the laws of the universe.” okay i get it. thank you for spelling it out for me. maybe now i will finally listen. i’m certainly being spied on. most of life is out of my control but i choose joy.

i couldn’t attend the invasion day protest today because i was on the phone talking a loved one out of killing herself. i shouldn’t feel guilty, it’s not like i had a choice in that scenario. i’m told that in most scenarios, there is no such thing as “fault”. if my goal was to shift blame, i could use all the words in the world to make myself innocent, but that’s not what i want, that’s not what i’m familiar with.

i think that maybe i would like to have a fresh start. i dont know what a fresh start would even look like. to go back in time a couple of years? how many years? at what point was it fresh? go back to when i was born? be born to different people? be a different person? a fresh start to me would be one in which so much is different from how my life is right now, that i don’t know how it would even be mine. this is who i am, all the terrible things that make up, well, me. and a fresh start wouldn’t be me, or it wouldn’t be fresh. i’m stale and im crusty, to the core of my being.

maybe i just need to go on a walk.

#personal #journal entry

[ramblingroommate]

Watching 9-1-1 for the first time

Ok the canonically bi firefighter got me. I’ve been seeing gifs of “the gay firefighter show” for around two years and I gotta be honest… I never gave it a chance. It was fun seeing people post about the show here and there but I mentally categorized it as “yet another queer coded queerbaiting show tumblr goes crazy for… been there done that”. But making one of the characters from the main ship (from what I understand) CANONICALLY queer after SEVEN SEASONS? A MONTH BEFORE PRIDE? Okay now I just have to watch it.

So here I am. Watching it for the first time and writing about it. This is more exciting than I expected tbh. Oh! Just to make it clear: I have never seen a single episode of this show but I have heard quite a few things about the characters over the years. But I never paid that much attention? So I’m not even sure what I actually know… I’ll figure it out when I get to it I guess.

Episode 1x1: Pilot

I like that straight off the bat the VERY FIRST thing they say is that there are two types of emergencies: the immediate abrupt ones and the long term slowly corroding ones. This character (Abby?) is a 911 operator and has a mother with Alzheimer so she’s pretty familiar with both types of emergencies. What a way to introduce a character! Also I like her voice, it’s soothing.

Here they are! Nice to finally officially meet you guys. Oh, I guess that’s something I know: I know all the characters names even tho I can’t really match most of them with a face. I obviously recognize Buck. And I know Eddie gets introduced in season 2. I’m guessing the older guy that seems to be in charge is Bobby? I think he’s like their boss or something? I hope the bits and pieces of info I know won’t start to mix in my head.

Also those are the worst compressions I have ever seen in my life. Can we put a little more effort in this cpr?

I mean… yeah? Mmmh. Okay that line threw me off for a moment. On one hand, of course they hang up after help gets there, that’s why they called in the first place. THEY are the ones in need, it’s about them not about you.

On the other hand, I think I understand what they’re trying to say… it has to be hard to not know if you actually helped or not, not have that closure. A nurse, a doctor, a firefighter know if the person they were called in to help was actually saved or not. Whether it’s good or bad, at least they get the closure of knowing. A 911 operator might be there for the worst part and then that’s it. On to the next one. Never thought about that before.

Oof that’s not gonna work. I mean I understand why he would say it and i remember an article talking exactly about this but… that’s not something that’s gonna help her in the moment.

… yeah

Tho I gotta say… they actually showed her fall, I didn’t expect it. It shows the kinda budget this show has, doing a stunt like that for a character you see for 3 minutes. Maybe a bit cold on my part to focus on that but oh well

Mmmh… a black book with names written inside. Either this has suddenly become Death Note or he has a Secret Past TM. There are also numbers… probably the number of people he couldn’t save in some tragic accident and somehow feels responsible for? And now he wants to make up for it by saving the same number of people. If that’s the case then it’s peak tv drama.

Ok wait wait slOW DOWN THERE, I CAN’T KEEP UP. Twenty seconds of conversation and I learned Bobby is a devout christian ex addict (alcohol and painkillers) who got in trouble with the department and spent ten years in and out of rehab AND has only been back for 18 months??? I wasn’t expecting to be told so much backstory so soon.

And then they immediately cut to Buck… is he a sex addict? Is that what they’re implying here? Gonna ignore everything else that happens on screen because firehose? Really?

WAIT A FUCKING SECOND

THIS SHOW IS MADE BY RYAN MURPHY?!?!???! AND BRAD FALCHUK TOO, THE TWO GUYS WHO ALSO MADE GLEE?

WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME WHAT THE FUUUUUUU-

Okay so I have much more to say about this show than I thought so I’m gonna split my comments in more parts (part 2 here)

#i have just received psychological damage from this revelation #911 #911 show #911 fox #911 season 1 #911 s1e1 #ro watches 911 #should I tag spoilers for something that came out 6 years ago?

[tinycurlyfry]

I was tagged by @karinzany​ to take on the impossible task of narrowing my favorite characters to just 10 jgskdlfgjs

....Obviously my current bias/hyperfixation for the silly gay pirates is showing (The way I could, and nearly have, written full essays on how amazingly complex some of the characters are in this show) and I haven’t consumed much media lately besides OP, but I think I feel good about these characters being my current top 10 (They’re in no particular order)

1. Trafalgar Law (One Piece) - This man’s got two (2!!) tragic backstories and though he was undeniably revenge driven he somehow came out of that trauma so unbelievably kind. He wants to come across as this terrifying, cruel and rude ‘Surgeon of Death’ but his instincts are always to take care of others. Also, his dialogue when Cavendish and Robin tried to get him away from the fight to get treated? Still drives me insane. Despite what he wants people to believe, he gravitates towards silly and kind people too. There’s a reason why he’s so adored by his crew and they mean the world to him too.

2. Roronoa Zoro (One Piece) - Zoro’s character is so deceptively simple, but *slaps his massive tits* You can fit so many layers in this bad boy. The way he dedicates his entire being to Luffy, the way he claims that he doesn’t see the point in the whole “I’ll have your back” mentality AND YET he will absolutely rush in to block and protect the others of the crew. He’s the first mate so when Luffy is running off being Luffy he’s gotta be the one to make sure everyone else stays safe. But, he has so much faith in his crew’s strength and is such an amazing team player. He’s also a little mischievous and silly and easily embarrassed and is so fucking hard on himself. Just *makes wild vague gestures at his mossy head* HIM.

3. Monkey D. Luffy (One Piece) - When I started the series I really liked Luffy but Zoro was definitely my favorite for the longest time. But Luffy is really hard not to love. But then... Idk at some point during Whole Cake Island I would just start tearing up and crying over this boy. And I’ve only continued to do so in Wano. He’s just- god he is the sweetest ever. Just the goodest sunshine boy. He’s just so full of love and will stop at nothing to save someone he’s noticed is having their freedom taken away or are suffering at the hand of a tyrant who’s got no value for people’s wellbeing. He’s so stupid and doesn’t understand typical social behavior but he’s SO emotionally intelligent and he’s grown so much and he’s just this sweet, unstoppable force of love.

4. Taako (The Adventure Zone) - Okay, finally forcing myself to move away from One Piece characters. Taako is another character who’s just got so many damn layers to him. He’s full of himself, yet he’s got so many insecurities because of trauma. He’s an asshole, yet he’s kind. He plays stupid, yet he’s probably the smartest of the main three. He definitely started out as just a joke-y character, the whole series very much started off as just the Mcelroys goofing around playing a silly game of dnd, but his complexity as a character down the line is insane. I think about his lines and actions as the story was about to come to its end CONSTANTLY.

5. Zuko (Avatar The Last Airbender) - Probably the first character that would consume my thoughts. After all these years Zuko easily wins a spot in my list of all time favorite characters. Zuko’s character development throughout the series is just *chef’s kiss*. Wonderful. Amazing. I love this poor boy so much.

6. Karkat Vantas (Homestuck) - Honestly it was tempting to put both him and Dave Strider in this list but I think Karkat has Dave beat by a little bit in my heart. Yet another character that is so beautifully complex and wonderfully flawed, but my god was he just doing his fucking best. I love this loud angry boy immensely. 

7. Hunter (The Owl House) - This poor, poor boy. I hold him so gently in my hands. He is just doing his absolute best. He’s gone through so much abuse and trauma and I just wanted him to be given the chance to be a kid. To be happy! His development is also so so good, and I just hope the trauma he’s going through doesn’t completely crush the sass and confident silliness he had before.

8. Caleb Widogast (Critical Role) - This spot was a toss-up as to whether I wanted to give it to Caleb or Essek, but I had the brainrot for Caleb Widogast for near the entirety of Campaign 2 so I felt obligated to give him the spot on my list. Can you see the pattern of my love for traumatized characters who manage to be a little silly and try their best to be kind (even though in Caleb’s case he very much believed himself not to be capable of being a ‘good’ or kind person). It was pretty hard not to include many of CR2′s characters, but I tried to keep myself from having too many from the same show/media (even though I definitely didn’t actually do that gsjkflg)

9. Roy Mustang (Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood)) - Enter the series I did also cave and give two spots to. Starting with Roy Mustang. He’s silly but so fucking clever. He cares so much more than he lets on. I think he’s definitely my favorite of the series.

10. Greed/Ling (Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood) - My god. Talk about beautifully flawed and complex characters. Yes, they’re technically two characters but I love them both and their interaction together so much that I couldn’t give one the spot over the other. Just a pair of dudes who have to learn the hard way the consequences of their actions/ambitions.

Honorable Mentions: Jester, Essek, Mollymauk, Yato, Trevor Belmont, Alucard, Riza Hawkeye, John Silver, BlackStar, Dr. Stein, Mr. Spender, Himura Kenshin, Vash the Stampede, Kurapika, N, Decim, Eda Clawthorne, Dave Strider, Duck Newton, Ned Chicane, Usopp, Donquixote Rosinante

[huge-enthusiast]

Miraculous fic recomendations!!

This is just an excuse to show all my bookmarks? Yes. Yes, it is. I'm pretty sure most of this fics are really popular, but try see if you find something you didn't knew about!

All of the fics will be rated Teen and up audiences or lower. Also if I don't put the author's tumblr is because they didn't put it in the fic or/and I couldn't find it.

Pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

knowing you by emsylcatac (they are not really the author of the fic but that's the account that says in the fic, the actual author doesn't have an account).

After dropping their transformations months ago, Marinette and Adrien see each other for the first time after being apart. They've both left too much unsaid and have to work to pick up the pieces of their confused hearts.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal but mostly ladynoir, light angst with happy ending.

the last day on earth by Reiaji

The first time Marinette sees Chat Blanc, she's fourteen years old. The second time, fifteen—the third time, seventeen.

The closer she grows to Adrien, the harder it is to save him.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, kinda heavy angst, hopeful ending.

tell me something i don't know by carpisuns (@carpisuns here on tumblr)

Do you think it still means something? To love someone, even if the universe said you had to?

The odds of having a soulmate are about negative one billion (or something like that). But somehow, like they always have, Marinette and Chat Noir find themselves together. They’re ready to finally tell each other everything, but it turns out that even soulmates have to keep secrets, and while their bond draws them together, duty forces them apart.

Chapters: currently 17/28 (WIPs can be exhausting but this one is 100% worth the wait!)

Mostly marichat but almost all of the lovesquare sides make an appearance, soulmates au, mostly fluff but it can get angsty if it wants to.

One Thing After Another by SKayLanphear

Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious.

Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

Chapters: 15/15

Mostly adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, miraculous side effects (by both sides wich is really cool!), it's fluff with a lil tiny angst for drama.

This would take some getting used to by Codango (@codango here on tumblr!)

Adrien peeked out from behind the chimney even as the magic of his own Chat Noir mask fell away.

She was still visible, her dark hair bobbing under the street lamps a couple blocks away.

“Marinette.”

Adrien blew out a confused breath. His fiery Ladybug… was the quiet little mouse who sat behind him in class?

“What. The.”

This… would take some getting used to.

Chapters: 8/8

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Adrien's part, awkward flirting, just fluff, nothing to worry about.

comfort food also by Reiaji!

In Marinette's house, cooking is a language of love, and Marinette loves Adrien more than most.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette with a little of ladynoir, super super fluff, a lot of insight into Marinette's chinese heritage.

The right side of his face by walkingonthestars (@hamsternamedmarinette here on tumblr!)

Marinette and Adrien are able to remain in their new seats in the back of the room at the end of Chameleon.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette, fluff with light angst.

it's a long way forward so trust in me by aloneintherain (@captainkirkk here on tumblr!)

“You’re not the only strong one around here, Chat,” Marinette said. She looked a little winded, but she wasn’t struggling to hold him up.

This close up, he could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose. He could see how that smug smile lit up her eyes. He could feel the strain of her arms—and wow, okay, he really wasn’t the only person around here with muscles.

Six times Marinette carried Adrien (plus one time he carried her).

Chapters: 1/1

All the sides of the lovesquare! Fluff with LOTS of mutual pining.

a fight that you were born to lose also by aloneintherain

When the prosecution starts throwing around the word victim in reference to Adrien, he has to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from bolting out of the courtroom.

Adrien had felt unsafe during those last few weeks, but, until he had woken up and seen Father silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, that had only been paranoia. Father was controlling and cold, but he wasn’t hateful. Adrien was isolated. He was often hungry. And some weeks ago, when he had snuck out to visit Nino, sitting thigh-to-thigh on his bed while Adrien cried in that silent, crumbling way of his, he hadn’t argued when Nino put a hand on his shoulder and said, tentatively, That’s abuse.

But Adrien remembers being small and Father touching his hair after he’d aced another test; Father holding his scribbled drawings like they were something precious, and framing them around his office; Father, dressed as Hawkmoth, his eyes wild behind the mask, lashing his sword against Adrien’s baton; Father, collapsed against Mum, crying into her ashy hair.

Adrien finds out Gabriel is Hawkmoth, and Gabriel gets to bring his long-waited plan into action.

Chapters: 1/1

This one doesn't really focus in the ship that much as is an Adrien character study and an exploration of his relationship with his father, but they're still there so I put them here. Really heavy angst (this is one of this fics that haunt me in the middle of the night) with a happy ending. ❗TW: parental abuse, eating disorders❗

Supercut by LNC

Marinette loves her friends and Adrien can't deal.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, again light angst, an exploration of Adrien's insecurities, Marinette Dupain-Cheng deserves the world, happy ending.

Madame Snare by jettiebettie

“Sounds like a lot of work for nothing. She should take this as a sign to have a relaxing weekend with no responsibilities.”

“It's a lot of work she put her whole heart into. It wouldn't be right for it to go to waste,” Adrien whispers to him. The look on Marinette's face is enough to cause Adrien's own heart to ache. If anyone deserves the satisfaction and pride from a job well done, it's her.

“Too bad there isn't anyone else who can walk in those death traps,” Plagg says. Adrien hums in thought, tapping his chin.

“I could.”

Chapters: 1/1

Marichat, episode-based, Chat Noir in a dress!!!, light angst but it's mostly just idiots being idiots and a lot of fun.

in the same sun by peachcitt (@peachcitt here on tumblr!)

"It’s hard to believe that I saw you last at the peak of summer, when the sun was close and warm - and so were you. It should go without saying that I miss you. I miss you something terrible."

//

"It’s been seven months to the day since I’ve seen you. I wish you were here more than anything else."

Two letters, signed with initials instead of names, found in Paris, France.

Chapters: 1/1

Ladynoir, just angst, that's it, written like letters. No ending, just pain.

an uncurtain discovery by Missnoodles (@ladyofthenoodle here on tumblr!)

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Chapters: 1/1

Ladrien, it says it's crack, and don't get me wrong, is super funny, but I also found it sad as fuck?

An Open Secret by Kasienda

Adrien whirled around toward Marinette. She smiled at him.

He couldn’t smile back. He stared at her like the dumb blond model that he was often accused of being.

Something shifted in her expression. And her warm open Marinette smile transformed into Ladybug’s grin. He was looking at Ladybug right now.

He knew Ladybug’s name!

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

And he couldn’t say anything! Not to Marinette! Not even to Plagg, who had confided two weeks prior that Master Fu was growing increasingly paranoid since the location of his home and hideout had been compromised. Their master had apparently decided that Chat Noir and Ladybug would have to give up their miraculouses if they ever discovered each other’s identities.

It wasn’t fair!

...

A fic where they both know, but can't openly talk about it.

Chapters: 4/4

Post-reveal... but is it? Mostly adrienette and ladynoir, fluff with light angst and them being absolute idiots at hiding their secret identity.

golden (like daylight) by okayanna (@anna-scribbles here on tumblr!)

Friendship, Adrien decided, shaking off the mental image of Marinette’s hurricane eyes and hesitant mouth, parted in a small, careful “o.” He had a very strong friendship with Marinette. That was all.

or

Adrien thinks a lot about words, love, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chapters: 1 + epilogue

Adrienette but has lots of ladynoir, another Adrien character study because I hate myself, it tries to not be angst but the writing will punch you in the guts and make you cry, it's so good.

Strangers in the Bright Lights by poodles (@ladybeug here on tumblr!)

Adrien is about two drinks in when he sees a girl at the end of the bar wearing black cat ears. It's kind of weird, so he watches her, and although it's crowded he can see her face when she turns around. She’s wearing a Chat Noir mask. He takes a quick look around- nobody else is wearing a mask. Just her.

Adrien finishes his gin martini and heads over to her. He could use some company tonight anyways, he hasn’t told anyone he’s back in Paris and Nathalie won’t arrive in town for another month. And it’s been a rough day, okay? A rough move! He’s not sure he wants to be back yet, and he spent most of the day in the Agreste mansion sorting through some photographs of his father he found in the study. Maybe he wants a drink and some stranger to tell him he’s pretty! That’s not a crime, is it?

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette but it's also ladrien??? I think??? It's super super angsty but they're both drunk the entirety of the fic so it's also really funny.

Pick-Up and Chase by also SKayLanphear

After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just deserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans.

A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Chapters: 10/10

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, it doesn't say it in the tags but I'm pretty sure the characters are much older than they actually are in the show, so much fluff and so much flirting.

Pairing: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Nino Has Done Nothing To Deserve This by GuardianKarenTerrier (@guardiankarenterrier here in tumblr)

It's nothing, really- just an innocent comment, a joke. But when they hear it, Nino and Alya come to a realisation.

There were, in retrospect, dozens upon dozens of hints. Now that they're suddenly aware of all their friend's flimsy excuses and rushed explanations, they're not only sure how they've missed it, they're not sure how anyone else has either. They realise that it had to be magic protecting their friends- and that same magic has ceased to work on the two of them.

Well, this means they'll just have to start watching over their friends themselves.

Chapters: 7/7

This is more a found family fic than anything else, Alya and Nino are the mom friend, has light angst but it's mostly identity shenanigans in the most bizarre way. ❗TW: eating disorders❗

christmas lights by demistories

Nino checks up and down the street, checking to make sure there’s no raging akuma headed his way before he crosses quickly and ducks inside the small café. He closes the door quickly before the icy air can blow inside and tugs his beanie down over his ears. He spots Alya sitting alone in the corner.

Chapters: 1/1

Just fluff!! Really short but really sweet.

hold on, i still want you also by Missnoodles!

Written for the @thedjwifizine ! Wich I also recommend if you wanna binge a lot of djwifi fics while also looking at amazing art!!!

Five times Alya ran into her ex, and the one time he stopped being her ex.

Chapters: 1/1

Light angst with a happy ending! I don't really like the ex-lovers to lovers trope but this one is the only exception.

I will continue to expand the list in the future! But by now I hope I was helpful in the search of new fics!

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #lovesquare #lovesquare fic rec #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfiction recomendation #miraculous fic rec #fic rec #djwifi #ninalya #djwifi fic rec #adrienette fic rec #marichat fic rec #ladynoir fic rec #ladrien fic rec #ml #fanfiction

[personasintro]

sucker (m.) | pjm

❥𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

❥𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut, angst, vampire au, horror au (?), vampire!jimin x human!reader, supernatural au

❥𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit language, smut; slight biting, oral sex [man receiving], fingering, penetration, unprotected & rough sex, slight dom!jimin, death & mentions of death, blood, mentions of alcohol

❥𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 10.9k+ 

𝒂/𝒏: I got this story idea after halloween and this is the first time I've written a vampire au, so I really hope you'll like it, this is something new for me but was so much fun to write!! banner by @dee-ehn​ (thank you luv, you did an amazing job!!)

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕  | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

Frat parties aren’t usually Jimin’s go-to place but considering the sudden circumstances, he had to agree and couldn't say no to his friend who had chosen the most overcrowded party. In other cases, Jimin would’ve chosen somewhere less crowded but enough to blend with his surroundings. Although, Taehyung deserves a few points for thinking this out considering today’s theme is Halloween. There’s no need to hide anything, especially their appearance that still doesn’t seem as weird as people dressed as pumpkin and other weird costumes. Just as a young male passes by, obviously dressed as Dracula while wearing a cheap cape, his friend snorts under his breath but Jimin can hear him perfectly.

“Horrendous,” Taehyung comments, scoffing at the guy that’s too preoccupied with a girl clinging to his side dressed as something both of them can’t recognize. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.” he grins, licking his bottom lip before they make their way into the huge house full of drunk people.

It’ll be hard to find someone sober or not drunk enough, Jimin thinks while his eyes scan the entire room.

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung slaps his hands over Jimin’s shoulders while he clutches them but his friend barely reacts, already used to Taehyung's rough hands and strength. “Try to have fun.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, still looking around to map out the whole room almost as if he’s waiting for something to happen. He knows nothing will, none of these people are ready for tonight and are completely clueless. Sometimes, he wonders how it’d feel like to just let loose and drink alcohol like every other person here. Loud rap music boosts against the walls, barely good enough music to dance to, but it seems nobody cares about that and dance no matter how ridiculous they look. A group of young girls pass by them, one in particular eyeing Taehyung as she winks at him, giving him a hint that even she doesn’t know about.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Taehyung grins, slapping Jimin’s shoulder with enthusiasm from receiving attention even though he barely came in. “Two hours?” he asks, slowly backing away from Jimin’s figure who responds with a short but firm nod.

Sighing, with Taehyung no longer in sight, he forces his legs to move through the crowd which is just bunch of drunk college students. It’s hard to blend, especially if he’s the only one sober out of everyone. He walks through the house, not particularly knowing where he’s going since he has no idea where he is. This is his first time here — probably last too. They never come back, not even once. They always just move on and plan things together, with Taehyung. Somehow, his legs lead him to a kitchen, less preoccupied room with an exception since there are still some people sucking their mouths off. Jimin’s nose scrunches in a slight disgust at the smell of alcohol, knowing that it’s just the picky side of him.

Taehyung had been in charge of tonight’s plans, it makes sense this plan sucks. Jimin doesn’t like it here but it’ll have to do. His sharp eyes dance across the room, nose softly sniffling as a sweet scent fills it and then he sees something. Something that looks much more interesting than anything he could’ve seen here so far.

You.

In other scenarios, you’d probably spend your Friday night differently than in a frat house full of people you don’t know. That wouldn’t even be such a bad thing, if your friend didn’t bail on you because her ex wanted to talk. You’re not mad, you’re just annoyed that you’ve been standing here for the past fifteen minutes watching couples make out, while third guy tried flirt with you. May you add, completely wasted where you could smell the alcohol on their breath. That’s enough to make you not interested and disgusted at the same time. When another guy dressed like Joker tries to talk to you, you ignore him and tell him to fuck off. You’re not rude, not all the time. But it’s only natural of you to act this way, especially when you let them know you’re not interested and they still keep trying. It’s like it pushes them to be even more eager to try to win you over. Well, you’re not some trophy and drunk enough to do that.

The guy gives you an ugly frown, visibly displeased by your choice of words but luckily he leaves you alone and your heart slowly calms down. You don’t know what drunk men are capable of, but you get the idea. You need to be careful either way. Not drinking any drink from strangers and not provoke anyone who's drunk, even if it’s standing up for yourself. Those are the rules you need to keep reminding yourself, especially in this place where alcohol clouds most people's judgement and mind. 

Ah fuck, tonight is supposed to be fun.

“Playing hard to get?”

Your head whips at the soft voice, completely contrasting with the awful music and people’s chattering drunken nonsense. Mouth opening in a mere shock, you’re met with a guy you’ve never seen before which isn’t that weird since you barely know anyone here. But you’d surely remember him, if you ever met him. It’s safe to say, he’s probably the hottest guy you’ve ever seen and looked your way. His blond hair is parted in the middle, swiped back as this particular hairstyle shows his sharp jaw but soft features. One of the most eye catching features are those thick lips, looking juicy and soft, like two pillows and the most delicious desert. And you can’t fucking believe you’re gushing over some stranger but you’re surely not done yet. His eyes are sharp and there’s a weird glint in them, maybe it's because of the orangey–red shade they hold. Black leather jacket hugs his frame along with, what seems like a casual white shirt underneath, and a great fit black jeans. You wonder what kind of mask he’s wearing, but then he grins at you and shows you his white teeth. Two sharp fangs poke his bottom lip, making you almost jump in surprise but you sigh in relief.

He seems to know you were just checking him out, judging by the slight smirk he’s trying to hide while he makes his way over to you.

“Just not interested.” you reply, deciding it’s better to find your own voice rather than to gawk at this sex god.

“I don’t blame you,” he speaks, your eyes flickering to his. There’s something that makes your heart skip a beat, maybe it’s his alluring eyes that seems to know everything. As if he could tell you’re mentally screaming at his hotness. “Young guys can be... very persistent and act upon their hormones.”

You snort, placing a hand over your mouth as you start giggling at his choice of words. “You can say it. They’re just horny and looking for sex.”

He smiles, tracing a tongue over his lower lip as his steps come to a halt just a few inches before you. He looks even more heartbreaking from up close. The lightning is shitty but there’s not an inch of flaw on his soft glass skin, he looks slightly more on the pale side, but that has to be the make up. At least he hadn’t overdid it like you’ve seen some other guys. And those eyes... what kind of lenses are they?

“You’re right, they can be like that.” he agrees, still sporting that secretive smirk adorning both his eyes and lips.

You snicker, causing his brow to raise in a mere confusion. “So, what? You’re not one of them?”

There’s no way such a handsome guy wouldn’t use his charms to get the best out of it. He said it himself, young guys are horny just like most girls. It’s not like you judge him for it, he can do whatever he wants as long as he’s respectful to others and doesn’t cross any boundaries.

“I’m certainly not,” he says, voice lacking of that sweet yet mysterious tone he used before. There’s something that flickers behind his eyes but it’s gone before you can dwell what it really was. “I didn’t come here to have sex.”

You’re surprised by his bluntness, not expecting him being so blunt all of a sudden, especially about that sex part since he basically ran his way around the topic of guys being horny and wanting to have sex. But you like it, even though you can’t bring yourself to grin like you want to, not when he’s staring at you with gaze darkening.

“Why did you come here for then?” you ask quietly, eyes searching for any kind of emotion or something that could give you a better glimpse inside of his mind.

There’s something about him. He’s mysterious, hiding something and you’re sure it’s just a part of his personality. Either way, it makes him even hotter and you’d drop onto your knees for this man. But there’s your dignity in the way and somehow, you’re glad about that. You’re not one to have a meaningless one night stand. Not that he’d probably want or care to have one with you.

It’s getting awkward, the silence between you two as he complements about his answer causing you to play with the hem of your stupid dress that aren’t even yours. But then something clicks inside of him and he smiles.

“To have fun.”

“Good luck with that.” you murmur, sarcasm lacing in your tone because you can’t believe Yeri just went after her ex leaving you ‘socializing’ (as she called it) with total strangers. Drunk strangers.

You don’t expect the hot stranger to hear you, your voice muffled by the loud music mainly, but he does when a deep chuckle erupts past his lips.

“Why’s that?”

“If you didn’t come here to have sex or get drunk, I don’t think you’ll have fun. Look at everyone.” you chuckle, arms motioning around you to prove your point.

He doesn’t, his eyes stay solely on you but you’re too busy being sarcastic and still bitter about this party to properly register that.

Jimin isn’t stupid. He knows how these parties work. Where’s alcohol, there’s a big urge to have sex and it proves to be right when everyone’s kissing or dancing which mainly leads to the sex itself.

“I take it you’re not here willingly.” he speaks up, eyes dropping towards your mouth where a fake blood is smeared in the corner of your lips.

It’s supposed to add a little bit of horror detail to your look, but you’re far from that.

“Debatable. My friend had decided to invite me at the last minute and now she ditched me because of her ex. Honestly, the guy is a total prick, I don’t know why she keeps running after him.” you explain, scoffing as you cross your arms over your chest.

Jimin reacts with a low chuckle, slowly licking his bottom lip before he takes a deep breath. It’s interesting to watch him, there’s something about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You wouldn’t tell Yeri’s business to just some stranger, or anyone, but maybe it’s those two shots of soju that let your mouth on the loose. He doesn’t know her anyway and you’re too annoyed to care, even though you do feel a pang of guilt.

“What are you doing here? Besides, to have fun here. Did you come here alone?”

Great, Y/N. Now you sound noisy making it sound like you’re asking if he has a girlfriend. Did you come here alone is a totally straightforward question, a very bad pickup line usually guys use. You’ve no idea why you just asked that. However, Jimin doesn’t seem to mind and even though, his lips quirk in a sly smirk and you act like you haven’t noticed, he shakes his head to give you an answer.

“My friend was particularly interested in this party.”

He doesn’t lie, it’s true. Taehyung did persuade Jimin to come to this one.

“Oh, so you were dragged into this like me,” you chuckle.

He isn’t, but he stays quiet.

“I wish she’d tell me sooner than four hours before the party had started. I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t even get to shop for my Halloween look and ended up with Yeri’s costume from last year. God knows what these dresses have been through.”

The incredibly handsome stranger laughs, like truly laughs and it’s the most beautiful sound ever. It makes you grin without even noticing.

“I do think you make a perfect mixture of spooky and ravishing nurse.”

Yeah, Yeri’s costume last year was a nurse but you put your own thought into it and put some fake blood in the corner of your lips and the top of your cheekbone. There’s some of it on your collarbone and arm just to make it more ‘scary’ but it’s just a huge fail. The dress is short, luckily not dangerously short for you to feel uncomfortable in them. You’re not even sure if this is a Halloween costume. Yeri looks like the type of girl to like foreplay, maybe she used it with her ex. Oh fuck, you can’t think about that.

His compliment completely blows all your thoughts out, your heart picking a pace as for the first time, your facade slowly falls down and you blush. Did he just called you hot?

“Thanks,” you grin, “Although, I think this costume is shitty it’s still better than being dressed as Harley.”

“Harley?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

You stare at him, watching his confused gaze before something flickers in his eyes and he just stares at you.

Well, not everyone had seen Suicide Squad.

“From the movie? Suicide Squad? Harley and Joker? They’re this lunatic couple and everyone’s been wearing their costumes for the past... three years, is it? I don’t even know but it’s so cliché. I think I saw four Jokers on my way to the bathroom. Don’t get me started on Harley.” you roll your eyes, leaning yourself against the kitchen counter that’s behind you.

The two of you just stand in silence for a couple of seconds, and you almost think it’s awkward even though there’s not an awkward atmosphere and you’re just standing in a comfortable silence.

“So, vampire, huh?” you fill the silence after a moment, catching his attention as he watches you with a serious look. “Not to be an asshole, but that’s an overused costume as well.” you add, wondering if you’re getting too comfortable with this stranger.

But he’s probably the most normal and sober guy you stumbled upon, even if he’s the one who approached you. There’s something odd about him, but that’s just because he’s not like one of those drunk assholes trying to get you into one of the rooms upstairs. He’s not rude, disrespectful and drunk and that’s all that matters for you to feel comfortable talking to him.

His features relax and he lets out a breathy chuckle, showing his fangs. “Their costumes don’t do the justice.” he comments, eyes watching one of the guy passing by who’s got vampire costume which makes you snort. 

Overused, like you said.

“They do look cheap,” you comment, giggling. “Isn’t it uncomfortable to talk with those?”

He looks at you with confusion, mouth opening in realization when you point at your teeth to explain.

“No.”

It comes out short, surprisingly deep and serious and for a moment, it looks like he wants to say something else but decides not to when he closes his mouth.

“You look believeable, though.”

“I do, don’t I?” he chuckles, and your body relaxes when all the seriousness is gone.

“Your skin is pale, not covered in that awful white color and your eyes... wow, those lenses look beautiful. It must’ve been an expensive costume.” you tell him, head leaning towards him as you study his eyes.

They’re almost deep red. Weren’t they more orange before? The lightening is shitty and honestly, you’re too busy inspecting the beauty and uniqueness of his eyes.

He looks stunned, and it looks like he stopped breathing for a moment when you lean closer to him to study his eyes and face. He closes his mouth, not letting you see the fangs hiding underneath those plump lips and even though they’re slightly poking, you can’t see much. He’s dressed normally, not wearing some awful costume. He’s done the minimum with his costume but he can easily win as the vampire of this party. It’s not too much, decent enough to make people stop and praise his costume if they had the chance to be face to face with him.

“I’m Jimin.” he decides to say instead, not even showing his gratitude from your compliment but you ignore it.

It was more of a loud thought anyway. You’re distracted again, this time by his name.

Jimin.

Fuck, even his name is beautiful.

“Y/N,” you tell him, giving him a smile which you hide by taking a sip of your drink.

He watches you, eyes scanning your lips before they move down to your throat as you gulp. You’re too focused watching people dance to notice the way he licks his lips and gulps.

“So, are you studying here?”

His eyes shoot up, your voice catching his attention once again before he thinks through your question. It’s weird how long he’s taking to actually answer, it’s quite simple question that's got a simple answer.

“No,”

That’s it? Just no?

He must’ve noticed the faint frown that settles on your face before he gives you a little quirk of his lips, those plump lips stretching to a handsome smile that once again gets all your attention.

“Are you?”

“Huh?” you blurt out, embarrassed how quick that flew out of your mouth.

You’re even more embarrassed, your cheeks slowly tinting into a red color when he chuckles lowly under his breath, completely aware of your lack of attention because all of it was focused on his goddamn smirk.

“Are you studying here?” he asks, not hiding that amused smirk that slowly settles into a soft smile that encourages you to answer.

“Yeah,” you smile, “psychology.”

“Are you a future psychologist?” he asks, a glint of teasing in his tone but there’s a curiosity lacing on his soft pale features.

How did he guess that?

“Maybe?” you chuckle, poking your inner cheek with a tongue. “I thought that’s what I want to be in the future, growing up it used to be my dream.” you tell him honestly.

You’ve no idea why you’re so honest and talkative with a complete stranger. Even though you haven’t exposed anything too personal about yourself, it feels very simple to talk to Jimin. He holds this calm aura around him that makes you want to tell him your deepest secrets without you feeling guilty about it the next morning.

“Used to? It’s not anymore?” he asks, cocking his head innocently but you know he’s not stupid and knows what your words meant very well.

For some reason, it seems like he really wants to talk to you and urges you to talk more. He seems interested in you. Not seeing you as a snack and walking vagina, but maybe just someone he wants to talk with because he’s been dragged into this party just like you have. That’s one thing you’ve in common.

“Do you really wanna hear my heartbreaking life story?” you tease him, chuckling when the corner of his lips quirk up once again as he gives you a final nod.

“I’m quite intrigued.” he simply says, your heart skipping a beat for some reason and almost as if he could hear it, he lifts his eyebrow in a provocative and cocky manner.

“Will you tell me yours?” you ask in return, cocking your brow at him which makes him smile.

“Depends on how interesting yours will be.” he says, your lips set into a straight line before you purse them and give him a long sigh.

“It’s nothing drastic. I just feel like it’s not what I wanna do anymore, the worst thing of it all is that I’ve no idea what I wanna do in the first place. But it’d be a good job for me, something I need. It pays well and maybe, it’ll be more fun than I think it is right now. All I can think about is my dad and just the fact that I need to keep going. Life sucks, right?” you chuckle, trying to ease the sudden serious and saddened tone you had.

Jimin is not a person who gets bluffed easily but he acts like he hadn’t noticed anything.

“Your dad?” he asks, slowly watching your reaction as if he’s waiting for you to tell him some drastic news about your father.

“It’s just me and my dad. He’s got a huge loan for the next couple of years and I’m trying to help him, but the part-time jobs just aren’t enough. When I finish college, I’ll be able to find a better job and help him with that. He deserves it and that’s what keeps me going, y’know? I need to pay him back for taking care of me. But it’s okay, I just can’t wait until there’s no loan over our heads. I came to the conclusion that life can be happy and fun, even if there are things that suck.” you explain, noticing how interested he seems to be with your words, sinking all of the information you just gave him.

Despite how sad you seemed to be talking about your family, Jimin notices that you’re staying positive no matter what exactly happened in your life and what you haven’t told him. And that you’ve a goal, purpose you want to fill and probably a bigger heart that you're letting show to others. Maybe he’s wrong, it doesn’t have to be this way. He doesn’t know you. But it’s not right to think that it’s only you. Every person in this house, or even in the entire world, has something they want to accomplish. Dreams, goals and all of that. Maybe some of them don’t know it yet, they’re lost but that’s what life is for. To let them figure it out. 

“That’s very nice of you.” he says, surprising you how serious and soft he sounds at the same time.

“But what about you? What is your life story?” you ask, wanting to change the topic because your life being discussed when you’ve had a few shots isn’t a good idea. Few more and you’d be probably bawling your eyes out just because you get emotional easily, especially if alcohol is involved.

“It doesn’t matter,” he chuckles, “It’s not interesting anyway.”

You don’t hide the disappointment that settles on your face, causing your lips to pout which makes him scrunch his nose cutely. What a shame, you really wanted to get to know him more. It’s like he’s putting distance between you two, keeping a safe distance but still wanting to be in your presence. He’s confusing you.

“But I told you mine.” you pout, mumbling under your breath like a child that just lost a game.

It’s comical, how you’re dressed in a sexy nurse costume and pouting just because you’re dissapointed. For the first time since being here, he feels unsure and actually stops for a second as you see his eyes dance between yours.

“My parents are dead. And I wish I could’ve made them proud like you’re making your dad.” he says, completely serious as you gape at him with an open mouth.

Is he serious? You don’t know him, his reactions are mysterious and despite him talking about his dead parents, he looks too serious and doesn’t show any sadness.

“I-I’m s--“

“Don’t,” he stops you, voice rough as he coughs and tries to mask his all of a sudden unfriendly tone.

It makes you speechless and actually bad for pressuring him into telling you more. Although, you’re not sure if that can be called pressuring.

“It’s been a long time since they’re not here. I’ve had time to process it.” he explains, hand brushing through his golden locks while you watch them bounce right back into its place.

You don’t ask how long they’re dead, or anything about them because it’s not your place to be curious about that. If you knew sooner about them not being alive, you wouldn’t even show him how disappointed you were of not hearing his shortened version of life story.

All you can give him is a slight nod, awkwardly glancing at your heels that, of course are borrowed from Yeri. Remembering that there's still almost a full bottle of soju that you snatched for yourself behind you, you turn around and pour yourself a shot as you glance at Jimin. He's staring at you, attentively paying attention to your face, as you give him a crooked smile.

“You want some?” 

“No.” he answers, causing you to shrug as you drink the shot in one go, weirded out by the expression he gives you. It almost looks like he's glaring at you for drinking and it makes you give him a dumbfounded look.

“Aren't you thirsty?” you ask, his jaw clenching before he allows himself to relax and a low chuckle comes out of his mouth. 

“You've no idea,” he grins, taking a step closer to you as he hovers over you, cornering you while your lower back digs into the kitchen counter. 

Your eyes are big, staring at him in a complete shock by his sudden move but you can't move away. Your whole body is frozen, staring into his red eyes that stare right back into yours as if he's looking for something in them. His own hands lean against the kitchen counter right beside your waist, almost touching you while your heart trembles with excitement. And then when you think it can't get worse, he actually leans his face closer to yours as he takes a sniff of you. He hums at your scent, your cheeks flaring both in embarrassment and praise, mentally clapping yourself on the shoulder for choosing that expensive Yves Saint Laurent perfume you got from Yeri last Christmas. You've always saved it for special occasions, and even though you don't think of this party as anything special, you're glad you've listened to your own guts and used it. Let's just ignore the fact that you used it because you were counting on sweating, knowing the strong perfume will make you smell amazing either way. 

He pulls slightly back, your noses almost touching as you can smell his own cologne, mixed with something that smells like mint. You don't even blink, not allowing yourself to budge as he gives you a tiny smirk. 

“I'm particularly thirsty for something else.” he tells you silently, his voice getting a few octaves deeper but yet sounding calm and soft.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, the huge lump there almost uncomfortable, as you stare at him with still the same shock. Gulping, you blink a few times as you wonder what the hell just happened. 

You should be mad because after all, he lied to you. He told you he's not here for sex, yet he implied something erotic and suggestive with a simple sentence that rolled off his tongue so easily and elegantly, but that's not the worst part. The worst part – that you're not proud of – is that you like it and you can feel yourself pressing your thighs together. This had never happened before. No guy could made your body hot without even touching you, and you wouldn't be so thirsty too for someone you only know by their first name. 

“I thought you didn't come here for sex.” you manage to speak up, successfully without stuttering or sounding too nervous, although confusion and the slightest tremble in your voice is audible even to you. 

“I didn't,” he confirms, nodding but not moving an inch from you. Without taking your eyes off him, you slowly blink as you watch him lick his lips. “But you look irresistible to my eyes.” he says simply, slowly reaching for the strand of your hair as he twirls it around his index finger. 

He's not touching you fully, and unfortunately you can't quite feel his touch through your hair because even now, he delicately touches your hair like you're a fragile doll that may break.

“Then, why don't you do something?” you surprise yourself, not believing something like that just left your mouth. You would never say something like this to a stranger, no matter how handsome and freaking hot he is. But this is Jimin, it seems like everything is different with him. 

And he laughs. He actually laughs like you've just told him a funny joke, and all you can do is stare at him like he just lost his mind. Is he just playing with you? Was he testing you? Before your crazy thoughts and theories could swarm your already confused mind, something else catches your attention that makes a prominent frown adorn your features. This doesn't get unnoticed by Jimin, his laughter dying down as he realizes where your eyes and attention are focused onto. 

There are no longer any fangs poking out of his mouth, and you watch something flicker behind those red orbs that seem to glow in the gloomy lightning.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, ignoring your look of confusion and curiosity that still lingers in your eyes that don't look away from his mouth just yet. 

“Where are your--”

“Took them off,” he cuts you off, letting go of your hair. “Now, be a good girl and answer my question.” he hums, inching closer to you as you hold your breath. 

“What do you want to do?” you ask instead, getting a breathy chuckle from him. You're not sure whether it's because of your question or because you purposely avoided answering his. 

“You wouldn't wanna know,” he chuckles, eyes dropping down to your lips that are already nibbling on your bottom lip. “It'll bleed if you keep bitting on it.” he comments, licking his own. 

“What, are you scared of blood?” you joke, releasing your mouth that seemed to get his attention, before the mention of blood causes him to snap those red eyes to yours. 

“Not in the slightest,” he smirks, for whatever reason but it shoots butterflies straight to your stomach. “Are you?” he cocks his head to the side, reminding you of a snake that eyes its prey. Or some predator that has some fun with its prey before they kill it. 

Fuck, you shouldn't have watched that horror movie Yeri suggested yesterday. 

“Of what? Blood or you?” you find the courage to ask, raising a brow at him as you eye his from up and down. 

He smirks, cocking his brow at you. “You tell me. Are you scared of me?”

Maybe you should be. No one has ever approached you, talked to you or given you this kind of attention before. This is a completely new territory that you're tiptoeing around, and it does give you some kind of thrill. Maybe it's because your life is boring and Jimin summons a new temptation that you've never felt before. There could be hundreds of reasons why you feel this way or what you should feel instead, but you can't bother yourself to think about it any longer. Because instead of feeling any fear towards the new stranger that has angelic features and voice, and with some kind of darkness that he's hiding, you feel yourself getting more interested and temped. In this case, he's like a forbidden fruit for you. 

“No,” you reply confidently, head held high as you grin. “Should I be?” 

This constant teasing and the lack of touch just sets a flame of temptation inside you that slowly drives you insane. 

“Maybe,” he says, tips of his fingers reaching for your dress as he plays with the hem of it, fingers dancing dangerously at the top of your breasts. “You're the one who's gripping the kitchen counter for your dear life.” he teases, your eyes shooting to your hands that in fact, are gripping the corner so tightly that they turn white. 

Embarrassingly, you let it go as you cross your hands over the chest to make yourself appear more confident, trying to mask the way your heart thumps loudly against your chest.

“That doesn't mean I'm scared.” you tell him, indirectly suggesting that there may be another reason why you appear to be so tense. 

Judging by the tiny and already known smirk that slowly stretches across those beautiful and thick lips, Jimin confirms that he knew way before you even said it out loud. No matter how many times you seem to outrun him, he's always two steps ahead of you, having a prepared answer. 

“What it could mean, then?” he asks lowly, feigning an incomprehensibility that this time – you see and are prepared for.

“Many things.” you gulp, breath hitching when the tip of his finger slightly touches your skin. It's short-lived and almost unrecognizable, but it still makes you shiver over the fact he's so close touching the top of your breasts. 

In other scenarios, you wouldn't let anyone this near to you, nor someone almost touching your breasts that are covered in a costume dress.

“Care to share, my love?”

The new petname shoots excitement straight to your body, your cheeks flaring pink as you look away from him for a moment. You know he's aware of your reaction and how that little petname affected you, but you remain confident as you stare right back at him. 

“I think you get the idea.”

In no way in hell, you'd ever tell him how much you wish to be fucked by him. Those sinful thoughts have to stay in your head, and even if you're not saying them loud like he wants you to, you know he's smart enough to get the idea. 

“Tell me.” he presses, fingers playing with the top buttons of your costume that you can't unfortunately feel that much, except the tiny pressure he puts on them by playing with it. 

“Jimin...” you whine, causing him to grin cheekily at you. For a moment, it looks like he lost that dark and mysterious aura. “Why won't you kiss me?”

You're done playing this game, your patience is slowly dying as you wish to feel his lips against yours. Even just for a second.

“Because you never asked me to,” he answers simply, surprising you by his diplomatic answer that sounds nothing but truthful. 

“If I ask you to,” Oh fuck, this is embarrassing. He's doing this purposely, he wants you to make the first move. You feel like his goal is to make you desperate for him, which he didn't have to do for long. You don't get it. 

“Will you kiss me?” you ask quietly, eyes searching his once again. 

“Mhm,” he confirms. “If that's what you want.” 

First of all, you're surprised that he's more interested in your own interest and consent, instead to taking the first chance of your attention and weakness for himself. And there's a chance that you were wrong. Maybe he hadn't been doing this to push you to make the first move, or to enjoy how you're squirming underneath his hovering figure. All he wanted this whole time has been your consent. Second of all, it makes him fucking attractive for doing so and no matter what the real reason is, you're willing to risk it all for this man. 

“Jimin,” you tell him, voice strained and raspy. “Kiss me.”

For all you know, he could be playing with you this whole time and he doesn't have to be interested in you. Again, Jimin proves you that you're wrong and manages to surprise you all over again when in seconds, he pulls you closer to him and presses your lips together. Jimin seeks your lips hungrily, surprising you how rough and fast he is as if he was controlling himself this whole time. His hand is holding your head from the back for support, while the other one grabs your hip and squeezes it. Gasping, you shiver at the feeling of his tongue dancing across your bottom lip before he envelopes your mouth again. Your tongues move together, your own hands gripping his biceps that are hidden beneath his leather jacket. Jimin has a boosted energy, barely allowing you to breathe between the hungered kisses he's showering you with, and when you start desperately trying to catch your breath, you're forced to press against his chest firmly. It's hard, much harder than you've imagined and it takes an extra strength to actually make him budge, which primarily is the soft whimper that you let out against his mouth. He moves away, almost jumping away from you as he stares at you all frozen. 

He watches your chest move quickly, trying to catch the oxygen that your lungs are craving for. You put your own hand over your chest, chuckling when you feel your heart beating fast and hard. 

A group of drunk people stumble inside the kitchen, catching your attention as they laugh loudly, unable to walk properly as they're reaching for other bottles that are placed on the kitchen island. You weren't here alone this whole time, there are still a couple of people making out or talking, probably searching for somewhere more peaceful than the living room where the most people are. Considering this fact that someone might've seen you sucking off each other's faces, it doesn't bother you and it's probably mainly the fact they probably hadn't even noticed. 

The sudden drop of soju bottle that breaks instantly and stains the floor snaps you out of your thoughts, your gaze shifting to the drunk girl who starts giggling over the fact she's too drunk and clumsy to the point she just dropped a bottle. Now, there's soju smell lingering in the air and staining the floor with shards of glass laying there.

Turning to Jimin, you catch the sudden scrunch of his nose at the smell of alcohol which makes you giggle, even though you find it not so pleasing either. Taking a few steps towards him, you grab him by his wrist and drag him deeper into the house. Surprisingly, he allows you to drag him as he stares at the back of your head until you stop and push the door open. You're quick to turn the lock, making sure there's no one disturbing you as he finally notices where you brought him. The bathroom is decorated in deep blue, the same gloomy lightning that comes from the round mirror and creates a much more dark and intimate atmosphere. Standing in the safe distance, he watches you turn around to him and lean against the small counter where the sink is. 

His eyes turn dark, the red color almost unrecognizable as he keeps staring at you without making any move. Throwing out your insecurity, because this in fact is your first bold move that you've made on someone, you don't let it disturb you from your plan. Your palms sprawled against the bathroom counter, ass digging into the edge of it, you straighten yourself and cross your exposed legs. 

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare at me?” you ask, one hand flicking your hair over your shoulder which catches most of Jimin's attention and his eyes get big. The exposure of your nakedness, the vein that pokes beneath your beautiful and warm skin makes him react instantly. 

You yelp when he's suddenly in front of you, using the lack of your attention and the second of you closing your eyes to blink, he's gripping your face before he attacks your lips with his own, kissing you hungrily that he did the first time. Only this time, you're ready for the strength and intensity of his kisses, awaiting for his tongue that darts out into your mouth. You grip his jacket, trying to take it off but it's impossible with him holding you so close. Tugging onto the leather material, he gets your message and strips it off, tossing it carelessly onto the dirty floor. Your palms spread over his chest, feeling his hardened muscles that are surprisingly too hard. In an instant, you're turned around, hands gripping the sink as you feel Jimin's hands on your thighs, slowly disappearing underneath the skirt of your dress. You shiver, his hands cold against your heated skin as you look back at him as much as your current position allows you to.

Unfortunately, you get only a brief glance at Jimin who turns you around rather aggressively. From this position, you can barely see him in the reflection of the mirror but as he looks up, you're met with his red eyes that stare at you back. 

“What do you want?” he asks lowly, hands slowly caressing your ass cheeks that aren't covered by your panties, his nails grazing over the soft flesh. 

Thank God, you chose to wear sexy underwear – the only sexy underwear you own.

“You,” you breathe out, telling him the obvious answer that he probably just wanted to hear. “You.. Jimin.”

You hear his low hum before your panties are pushed aside and dress hiked up, enough to let his fingers replace the lacy material. As soon as the tip of his cold fingers meet your heat that's coated with your slickness, your breath hitches. He starts rubbing the area, making sure he does the same thing to your clit before he pushes two fingers in. You gasp, not expecting him to enter you all of a sudden, especially with two fingers that stretch you deliciously. It slightly burns, but your arousal that's used as a lube helps a lot and it makes it easier for him to get in. 

Jimin's surprised by your tightness, wondering when was the last time someone touched you while his red eyes flicker to your reflection to check your reaction. He's a monster, he shouldn't care if he's being too rough with you but for some reason he's curious to see how you react to his touch. A cocky smirk flickers on his lips when he sees your eyes closed and mouth open in delight. 

“You like that?” he whispers, mouth hovering over your ear as he takes another sniff of you. Do you really smell that good?

He presses his thumb against your clit, circling it when he feels you clenching around and that's why he adds another finger. You gasp, mumbling something incorrect to both your and his ears. Again, he just smirks at your lack of response and how fucked out you already seem to be. He barely had to do anything. 

Pulling your hips to him, he makes you arch for him with your ass pursed up almost dangerously close to his crotch. 

Fucking you with his fingers, he has no mercy on you and your loud pleas of slowing down. He doesn't know you, but it feels like he reads all the signs your body gives him and with you clenching around his three fingers, being a mess that barely stands on her own feet, he knows you're close. The pleasure gets too much, his palms slapping against your clit as he keeps fucking you is nothing you are prepared for. The orgasm and the chase after it gets too intense, no longer in your hands and with you being able to control it, you're cumming around his fingers, sucking them right in. He slows down, but still keeps a sloppy pace that fucks you through it. Your whole body burns with tingles of post-orgasm and if it weren't for your hands desperately clutching onto the sink, and Jimin's body behind you caging you in, you'd probably fall like a potato sack.

He pulls out his fingers, sounds of slurping leaving his mouth as he cleans them. Unfortunately for you, you've missed that devilish sight of him doing it. You pry your eyes open, slowly straightening yourself as you turn around to check the devil himself.

Just as expected, he's smirking at you, proudly staring at your flushed cheeks and the quick rise of your chest. You surprise him, clutching his shirt between your fingers before you pull him closer and connect your lips together. He lets you kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and finally feeling up his skin more properly. You're surprised how cold he is, yet no hint of goosebumps cover his skin.

“You're so cold,” you comment, rubbing your hands over his forearms trying to warm him up.

Glancing back at him, you're surprised by the dumbfounded look he gives you before his mouth quirks up. “You wanna warm me up?” he asks, cocking his brow at you as your mouth salivates, your hands completely stopping.

“Yeah,” you answer, no idea why the fuck would you even answer that when you should just put yourself to action. The little act makes him chuckle, leaning closer to you as you hear him gulp.

You think he's about to kiss you, his lips close to the crook of your neck and you tilt your head to the side, to give him a better room for that. However, you're surprised when his mouth never makes an actual contact with your neck. You slightly tilt back, staring at his frozen state as you see his throat bob. 

“Jimin?” you ask, growing worried when he seems to be acting weird all of a sudden. “Are you okay?”

Your voice is muffled to his ears, he barely hears you as all he can focus is the way your blood pulses in your veins and the soft heartbeat of your heart. But you don't know that, all you can see is Jimin standing there gulping and not moving at all. It's until your hand makes contact with his cheek, your warm palm ready to envelop it but before you can even properly touch his skin, he's gripping your wrist at an extreme speed. You stare at him, almost jumping back from the sudden movement. 

“You scared me,” you chuckle, trying to ease the tension as he takes a step back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answers nonchalantly, staring at you with those red eyes. “Now be a good girl and suck my cock.”

Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, surprised by the sudden change in his behavior and tone. He starts unbuckling his belt, your mouth salivating at the thought you're about to see his cock. It's been awhile since you gave a proper blowjob and although, you're not quite satisfied with your skills of giving one in the first place, you just can't wait to taste him. 

If Yeri could see you right now, she'd never believe that it's the same best friend that has always been opposed to one night stands.

Dropping onto your knees, your face is facing his growing bulge as you look up at him for permission. He chuckles, licking his bottom lip as he nods his head at you, silently telling you to get to it already. You put his jeans down, not entirely just enough to expose his casual black boxer briefs, as they stay wrapped around his mid-thighs. His boxer briefs are next, your fingers too eager to see him rather than to tease and play with him. Something tells you that Jimin is not the type to enjoy teasing. His erection spreads free, finally out of the material of his tight jeans, and it slaps against his clothed stomach that's hidden beneath the white shirt. 

You wish there was a better lightning and for a second, you contemplate whether to turn the main light on, just to fully appreciate his erected length. No matter what the lightning is, you notice how thick he is and a few veins that poke underneath the thin skin. From the light patch of hair to the red tip that's leaking with a little bit of pre-cum makes your mouth salivate like never before, and you make sure you gulp all of it before you can embarrass yourself. Not wasting any time, your hand curls around the base as you give him a testing squeeze which surprisingly, makes him barely react and when you glance up at him, he stares at you with dark eyes. 

Little do you know he needs your touch, he needs to distract himself from the thirst and hunger, and that dark voice inside his head that tells him to do something completely different, rather than have you on your knees and ready to take him.

As if you could hear his thoughts – which you can't and he knows that – he almost sighs in relief when you wrap your pretty red lips around his tip. It doesn't matter that your lipstick is completely smeared from Jimin's lips and his furious kisses. Sucking on it, you let the angry red tip glisten with your saliva before you start pumping him. Through hooded eyes, Jimin watches you licking a strip up his cock as you go back to sucking him off while pumping his hardened length, this time harder and quicker. Jimin's low grunts that occasionally leave his mouth encourages you to take him deeper, the tip of his cock almost hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes burn with tears but you blink them away, curling your tongue around the head of Jimin's cock. His hand grabs the back of your head, clutching your hair in his fist as he starts moving his hips. It hurts a little, he's putting too much pressure and strength into grabbing your hair and the roots that burn your skull. But with your own arousal between your legs, slowly dripping down your thighs and the undying lust that you feel towards Jimin, you've no time to complain. It adds another pinch of pleasure, a pleasure that makes you moan around his length and almost gag when he thrusts into your mouth. Surprisingly, you look up and you find him checking your reaction.

Your warm hand around his cock and even warmer mouth that's wrapped around him feels surprisingly nicer than he thought it'd be. He takes his time to notice your reddened cheeks that he can see even from up, and with the dim lightning his red eyes catch the line of saliva that's drooling out of your mouth. And he growls, he actually growls and pulls you from his cock in seconds, before he's pulling you up and if it weren't for his strong hold, you'd surely stumble how quick he got you up. He backs you into the bathroom counter, to your previous position before he fingered you, but this time you're face to face. Your ass is digging into the edge of the counter, although you don't seem to care. You're too focused staring at Jimin that clenches his jaw, suddenly bumping into you as he starts kissing you. Whimpering into his mouth, you're surprised when he easily lifts you up and gets you seated on the bathroom counter. However your yelp is muffled by his mouth, his hands pulling you close to the edge, dangerously close that you're clutching onto him, scared of a possible fall. But Jimin got you, his body is caging you and creates a barrier between you and the floor. 

Jimin's hand wrapped around his erected cock looks sinful, like nothing you've ever seen before, at least no one made it look so effortlessly hot. Your body almost trembles with the anticipation of feeling him inside of you, and you know it's coming because he starts pumping himself. Not even aware that you stretch your legs to give him a better space, plus giving him a view of the mess between your legs. He pulls you closer, nudging your thighs apart even more before his other hand moves your ruined panties more to the side. He gets a better view of your pulsating heat that's waiting just for him.

“What about a condom?” 

He stops, eyes flickering to yours as he stares at you with unreadable recognition. It's enough that you're about to have sex with some stranger, even though it's very hot and irresistible stranger, but you don't know him after all. Are you ready to risk it for him? The rational you mentally praises you for remembering such important detail before it could've been too late. 

“Don't have one,” he says through teeth, almost seeming to be annoyed that you stopped him.

Maybe you should grow offended or annoyed yourself by his reaction, but for some reason you don't. You just stare and wait for him to say something else. 

“You don't trust me?” There it is – the smirk comes back and makes an appearance on his thick lips again. 

“I don't know you.” you point out, cocking a brow at him.

“Yet, you're here sprawled for me ready to be fucked,” he chuckles lowly, your expression dropping as your eyes grow big. “I don't know you either, that's why we need to trust each other.” he says, but still doesn't move to do anything else. 

Your mind is screaming at you, telling you over and over again how a bad idea this is and that you'll regret it. There's no actual threat of disease of a potential pregnancy (even though, you've been taking birth control since your teenage years) but you don't know that. He can't exactly tell you without having to explain something that he doesn't even want to or has to explain.

“Hm? What's it gonna be?” he purrs, his hand cupping your jaw as he starts caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Are we gonna trust each other?”

In a way, you're aware he's coaxing you into agreeing and using your temptation by using his low and tempting tone, but you don't find yourself calling him out for it. You're speechless, not able to move your mouth and find your own voice, even though you're not sure what your answer is going to be. But then he's pulling away, taking your silence as an answer which kind of surprises you because you thought he really is coaxing you into agreeing. Before he can fully pull away, you wrap your legs around his frame and cage him. 

He opens his mouth staring at you as you can feel his hardened length touching the exposed skin of your thigh. 

“Fuck me, Jimin.” you tell him, meeting him in the middle as you both crash your lips together.

The kiss is heated, even more than ever before and you shiver when you feel his tip against your heat. He looks at you, checking one more time as you give him a nod before you crash your lips together again.

He needs you as his distraction but he's not an asshole to take you without your consent, or trying to control you.

With that, he pushes past your folds and enters you. You gasp, pressing your face into his shoulder as you bite onto him gently. He doesn't budge, not surprised by the feeling of your teeth dangerously poking him through the fabric of his shirt. He's pushing in, bottoming out before he's already pulling out just to thrust back in. Jimin has no patience, already getting to work as he starts fucking you. With each thrust, it gets easier to move inside of you as your cum and arousal helps him. You're surprised how good you're taking him, even though your walls do burn with the sudden penetration and the new feeling of his thick cock. Even the pace is going too fast, the top of his thighs slapping against the back of yours while his balls make contact with your ass. The bathroom is filled with sinful sounds of skin on skin slapping, and it coaxes you to clench around him repeatedly. You can't keep up with the animalistic and rustless pace he set, whimpering and moaning his name all over again with an occasional curse falling out of your lips. Jimin grunts are no longer silenced ones, although he seems to be controlling his voice much more.

“Fuck,” you moan, head tilting back as your hands are doing a poor job at trying to hold you in place. 

Jimin's hands are around your thighs, making sure your legs stay apart as he keeps fucking into you. You can feel sweat slowly dripping down your neck, even your ass getting sweaty from the contact of the bathroom counter.

“I'm--fuck, I'm close.” you gasp, clutching the edge even harder and before you can say something else, you're already cumming around him. “Ohhh, fuck, Jimin.” you moan out through your orgasm, his pace not slowing down even after you're done and gritting your teeth at the overstimulation.

His head falls into the crook of your neck, lips almost making contact with your skin as he starts shaking and grunting. You think he's close, that it's only a natural reaction of approaching orgasm and you're completely thrown back when he suddenly pulls away completely. His cock is out of you in a record time and as you blink, he's in the middle of the bathroom standing with his jeans and boxer briefs wrapped around his mid-thighs, along with still hardened cock that's coated with your cum. If the situation weren't so weird all of a sudden, you'd probably focus on the sight in front of you much more. 

You watch Jimin's features twist in an almost painful expression, his nose scrunching as his whole body shakes. It's nothing too drastic but just enough to notice by the way he's shivering and trying to control himself. He gulps a couple of times as well, seeming like he's in a pain. You've no idea what has just happened and you just stand there completely clueless, eyes big and mouth agape. 

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, wondering what the hell is wrong with him. 

You hop off the counter, ignoring how sensitive you're between your legs and how hard it feels like to be standing on your feet all of a sudden.

“Don't,” he warns you, voice raising as he outstretches his arm to keep you from coming closer. “Don't come any closer.” he says lowly, head held high as you can't see his face.

“What, why? What happened?” you ask worriedly, your eyes filled with worry and confusion at the same time. 

When you're about to take another step towards him, it's like he can sense it before you can even more your feet, his head snaps to you and he growls at you. 

“Fucking stay away.” he warns you again, almost yelling at you as you jump in fear.

The last thing he sees is your scared eyes before he focuses his gaze to the floor again. He can feel the veins starting to cracking up on his skin, showing what he really craves for. He can't let you see. With your heartbeat being the loudest melody in the room and your smell filling it too, he can't promise not to do something he doesn't want to. That was the whole purpose of tonight, the whole purpose of approaching you and talking to you. He has no idea what's happening to him and why can't he listen to what his mind is telling him to do. He's controlling himself and he knows if he stays any longer, you're not going to make it without any harm. 

And that's why he focuses his attention on something else, desperately listening to people slurring drunken nonsense and the loud music before something else catches his attention. It's not too much, just the only thing that helps with not focusing on your smell entirely. It's something no one else can hear, the whimpers and slurping sounds that could only mean one thing. 

You notice how he zones out, your hands pulling your dress down to have at least some kind of modesty as you eye the stranger in front of you. 

“J--”

His eyes snap to yours as he turns around. “You need to leave.”

“I-- what?” you blurt out, seeing him tucking himself back into the jeans. You ignore the feeling of disappointment that clouds your mind for a whole second, before you're back to confusingly staring at him. 

“I don't know wha--”

Taking two long steps, he's right in front of you before he grips your face tightly into his hands. You whimper at the strength staring into his dark orbs that shine like never before. 

“Get your friend and leave. You've to leave, right now.” 

The firmness in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you, however it gets somewhere in the back of your mind as you stare at Jimin with big eyes. Painfully for you, he lets you go as he starts backing away from you but there's nothing you can do. You can't bring yourself to move, nor rush after him when he flicks the lock open and walks out of the bathroom. You stand there, your mind suddenly snapping into action as the only thing you can think about is getting Yeri. 

When Jimin makes it through the crowd, successfully hiding and blending with his surroundings, he stops and makes sure he has a great view of you walking out of the bathroom. He's watching you from the safe distance, seeing you trying to find your friend that seems to be nowhere in sight. When desperation is evident on your face since you've checked every room downstairs and you still can't find her, your legs lead you upstairs. He wishes he'd tell you to go alone, the longer you're staying... no, he doesn't care. 

His mind drifts away to the moment in the bathroom, where his long canines started growing and all he could think about was sinking them to your delicious neck.

He can hear your faint heartbeat but he doesn't allow himself to get closer, not even if you're already upstairs opening every door of each room to find your friend. And when he sees Taehyung with a satisfied grin and blood dripping down his chin nearing him, it makes Jimin think only one thing. None of these people are aware of the liquid dripping down his friend's chin, thinking that it's just another fake blood even if Jimin can smell the metal scent from miles away.

You're growing annoyed when the third room you open, there's still no sight of Yeri but some drunk couples having sex or smoking weed. You scrunch your nose in disgust, wondering if these people don't know what locks are. As you're nearing another room, you just hope there are no naked people and any possible butts that you'll be seeing before you take the doorknob into your hands. 

But nothing could ever prepare you for the sight behind that door. 

The room is dark, the street lights create at least some kind of lightning but you still decide to turn up the lights. It happens in seconds. The first thing you recognize is the costume, the same one she proudly showed you this morning saying she'll be the hottest Black Widow. You stare at the horrific sight of the face of your friend which is almost unrecognizable. Her lifeless body is laying on a bed, blood trickling down her neck and staining beige sheets underneath her. Your piercing scream rings in your ears but you can't stop screaming from the horror sight in front of you. 

Jimin hears your screams, his eyes shifting towards the house as he starts the engine. 

“You killed her?” he asks, voice low as he starts the engine. 

“Y'know how I get,” Taehyung chuckles, wiping the remains of blood from his chin and mouth. “I was hungry.” 

Jimin grips the steering wheel tightly, stealing a last glance at the house and the party that slowly turns into chaos. That's why they never come back. They can't and he should've known his longtime friend would get one of his moods. Taehyung is crazy, much more dangerous than Jimin because he gets so into his own needs. 

“You didn't have to kill her.” Jimin points out, leaving the driveway while the house keeps getting further and further.

“I didn't have to, you're right. But I did,” he sighs pleasingly, patting his stomach as he makes himself comfortable in the passenger seat. “And she tasted fucking great.”

Jimin's jaw flexes, slowly growing irritated by his friend's decision to end someone's life again. He should've gotten used to it by now, but he can't never really process it. It's even weirder now that he knows that someone wasn't just someone. It was your best friend. 

And that night, almost everyone who attended that party had some regrets. And you've got many of them. 

You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. 

Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

If you just paid attention, maybe your friend would be still alive. And maybe you'd be in her place and would never make it out alive, if it weren't for the stranger with red dark orbs that hunts you every night.

#networkbangtan #bts smut #bts angst #jimin x reader #jimin smut #vampire au #kpop au #jimin angst #bts au #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #bts oneshot #personasintro

[bestintheparsec]

As Does the Snow

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You and your neighbor, Frankie, get snowed in together. 

A/N: I wrote this down when the power was out while I was—you guessed it—snowed in. Nothing too deep/angsty in this (for once), just softness. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: none, some obvious tropes (snowed in, there was only one bed)

*Masterlist pinned to my page

~

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, prompting you to drop the pile of clothes you’re holding to answer it.

“Hey, Santi,” you answer the familiar friendly voice on the other end.

“You lose power yet?” he asks, slight concern in his tone.

“Just about an hour ago,” you reply, peering out the window. The sun’s still out, so you’ll be okay for a few more hours until it sets.

You’d all been expecting the power to go out, of course. The news has been tracking a seemingly out-of-nowhere snow storm that’s been headed your way, starting its impact a few hours earlier. You hadn’t expected to lose power so soon, though—it usually takes a lot more ice or wind to damage the lines. You’ve been preparing as best as you can for the cold nights ahead. With the lack of heat and power, it was bound to be a long night or two.

“You have everything you need, right?” he asks after a short silence. Santi and the other guys, most of them, live closer to the city and away from the countryside that you'd chosen to live in. With the way the roads are, everyone's been warned not to drive if possible. Not that there’s anywhere to go.

“Yeah, I always do—”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could go stay with Frankie during this whole thing,” he chimes in.

Frankie lives across the street from you—you’ve been good friends with him ever since you moved in years ago, even becoming a part of his group of ex-military friends when he introduced you to them, and you'd fit in like you’d always belonged there. It’s perfectly reasonable that Santi would ask you to go stay with your friend to hunker down during a storm. You would all stay with each other if you could, but seeing as that’s impossible and you and Frankie only have each other right now…yes, completely reasonable.

Fuck, who are you kidding?

What seems like a long time ago, you realized you had feelings for Frankie. And, by some luck—or not—you found out they were reciprocated.

But things don’t always work out the way you want them to; hell, it seems like things never do. At the end of the day, you both had wanted to pursue something more with each other, but life got in the way, just as it often does. You both had a lot going on in your lives back then, things you had to deal with and sort out alone. Ultimately—awkward conversations and deep talks and all—you’d both decided it was best if you simply stayed friends, lest things become overcomplicated.

And so you did. Despite this small history, things haven't really been awkward since then. He’s still a good friend to you, one of your best friends, really, and the subject hasn’t been mentioned again ever since.

Only, you haven’t really moved on. You haven’t been much good at leaving the feelings behind you, either. At first you just kept shoving them away, trying to convince yourself that you felt nothing at all whenever you were with him, nothing except friendly love for one of your best friends. But despite your best attempts not to, you found yourself slowly falling more for him. Being close to him for this long has made it even harder for you to move past it.

Not that you've addressed any of this again.

Had you sorted out the things you were dealing with back then? Maybe. But you’d both decided on what was best, years ago, and given that Frankie hasn’t brought it up again since, it’s likely he wants to keep things that way. Time tends to help some people to move on, where it drives the knife in deeper for others. Frankie’s been on plenty of dates since then, even a relationship or two. So you know you were probably just a momentary interlude in his love life, someone he stopped thinking about in that way long before you could ever even think about moving on. You're nothing more than a good friend to him now. And so you've kept your continued feelings for him to yourself, allowing them to thinly layer your friendship like a light dusting of sugar that’s never quite sweet enough to stand on its own.

But the thought of sheltering with him for a few days? You're not sure if you can keep your feelings contained if you're with him for that long and with that much free time to get lost in your thoughts. But given the seriousness of the storm, you were both bound to end up at one or the other's place, anyways.

You must have been silent for a little too long, because Santi speaks again, breaking your thoughts. “You can watch over each other, that sort of thing. Besides, you know how he can be…” he trails off, waiting for you to answer.

“I—yeah, I’ll go over there,” you finally agree, nodding to yourself. “I was going to check up on him eventually, anyways. I’ll go over as soon as I finish up what I’m doing.”

“Sounds good—let us know if you run into any trouble. We’ll find a way over there if we need to.”

You mutter a quick thanks and remind them to stay safe before hanging up, tossing your phone onto the couch with a resigned sigh. Moments later you pick it up again, quickly sending a text to Frankie to ask him if it’s alright for you both to bunker together for the night. Which he quickly agrees to, of course—you’ve spent many evenings over at his place, or his at yours.

Really, you don’t know why your brain’s suddenly trying to make this weird for you. You’ll bring some snacks and blankets, and it’ll be just like any other Friday night you’ve spent with him. Not weird. There’s nothing there (at least on his end) for you to feel awkward about.

You shake your head and finish your emergency preparations, trying to be done with it before it gets dark so you can head over to Frankie’s.

~

Exhaling deeply first, you ring Frankie’s doorbell.

“Coming!” His deep voice calls from inside.

You shove your hands into your pockets then change your mind, moving them to grip anxiously onto the straps of your backpack. Another few moments pass before you hear Frankie trod to the door. He answers it with a soft smile plastered on his face, the same one he uses every time he greets you. Immediately taking the bag you’re carrying off your arm, he beckons you inside and you follow, shrugging off your backpack.

"Did you need help with anything?" You ask, dropping your bag onto the ground and looking around the darkened place. The windows are covered, there's flashlights and candles out on the table, and a couple cases of water are stacked in the kitchen.

He’s layered up in clothing just like you are—a familiar flannel button-up peeking out from under his jacket. His hair is messy like he’s been running around all day, which he probably has been from the looks of it. If you had to describe it, he looks like...home.

Stop it, you mentally chastise yourself.

“Nah, I’m just making some final tweaks,” he remarks, walking over to pull the living room curtains shut. “The house is warm enough for now, but it won’t be long before it starts feeling like the inside of a fridge in here.”

He turns back to face you with a different sort of smile on his lips, a gentle expression you can’t quite make out.

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie’s been in deep for you, too. He knows you'd both agreed not to date, but over time he's come to greatly regret that decision. It was the right one at the time, but he can't help but wish things had gone a little differently. There’s no one he’d rather be around, and any and all dates he’s been on over the years have failed for the same reason—they’re not you. They could never be you.

Chances come and go, and his has gone. In more ways than one you’re a light in his life, someone he couldn’t ever deserve, and somehow he’s lucky enough to have you in his life at all—even if it’s just as friends. If he’s a better person now, a lot of it’s because you’ve been there to pick up the pieces, the same way he does and will always do for you without a second thought.

But something you can’t help him with is the fact that he’s fallen for you, hard, long after you’d both agreed to just be friends. And he keeps on falling.

He knows people change their mind all the time, but he’s been unwilling and unable to bring it up again with you. For all he knows, that agreement had just been your gentle way of telling him “it’s never going to happen.” He doesn't want to risk scaring you off and losing one of the best people in his life.

Frankie comes back to reality, watching you smooth out the front of your shirt.

“Okay, well, I brought some of my blankets in case we need to pile them up…” you say, pointing to the large bag you brought. “And since your stove is electric, it looks like we’ll be eating snacks for dinner.”

“That’s bold of you to assume,” he retorts, walking over to the kitchen. With a silly gesture, he proudly uncovers a large dish full of one of your favorites.

Frankie is certainly no chef, but he can put together a dish or two, even going out of his way to learn how to make the things that you both love. He puts a hand on his hip, amused by the surprised look on your face. “I made it before the power went out. They did teach us some things about preparation in the military, you know,” he teases, dimple on full display.

“And here I was packing junk food and sandwiches, like a loser,” you jest, grinning back at him. Frankie somehow always manages to make your life a little better. He beams and your chest constricts at the sight.

"Oh, we'll definitely need those for later," he reassures you with a grin. "If the guys were here that'd all be gone before the worst of the storm even hits," he adds, making you laugh.

Some of your favorite nights with Frankie are the ones that are completely uneventful, ones where you relax after a long day of work and binge your favorite snacks while watching some crappy movie on the couch. Then again, it's always the little things that make you happy when it comes to him.

~

Once you've had your dinner you both get comfortable next to each other on the couch, chatting about life and nothing in particular, the way you often do—minus the lack of electricity and a mostly dark room that’s barely lit up by a couple of small camping lights Frankie has. No doubt the other guys would make things a lot more chaotically entertaining if they were all here, but you’re happy it’s just the two of you now—even if it does make it harder for you to think straight at the moment.

Frankie says something that makes you chuckle and you look up at him, noting the delicate smile on his lips and the way it almost balances out the tired lines under his eyes.  He meets your eyes, and if he looks like he wants to say something else, it's probably only in your mind because he doesn't.

The wind outside makes itself known, rattling the windows in its wake. You're suddenly grateful you'd agreed to come and stay with Frankie. Although you’re lucky to have a shelter, these kinds of storms are best when you don't have to ride them out alone.

You also become hyper-aware of how intimate the moments you share with Frankie are. At the end of the day, you're glad he's in your life, even if it's not the way the younger version of you wanted. You still have him and he has you, and that's really more than you could ever ask for.

A chill suddenly makes its way through you.

"Are you shivering?" Frankie stops talking mid-thought to ask you.

"What? No, I—" He cuts you off with a chuckle and shakes his head, reaching down into your bag. With a quick movement he pulls a beanie on over your head, purposely tugging it past your eyes as you laugh and playfully smack his hand away.

"Watch yourself, Morales," you attempt to glare at him as you smooth down your hair, but fail to contain your smile when you see that goofy twinkle in his eyes.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” he concedes and raises his hands in mock surrender. The grin is still on his face as he moves to fix the beanie on your forehead. Another quiet chuckle escapes his lips until his fingers move away from your forehead, accidentally grazing along your cheek.

It’s not the chill that makes you both fall abruptly silent.

It’s almost as if the wind wiped the grins off your faces as Frankie looks into your eyes with an intense gaze. His hand still hovers along your cheek, neither of you seeming able to move. You’re suddenly grateful that it’s impossible for him to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears right now. Your imagination must be getting the better of you again, because you almost believe that there’s something wistful about the look on his face.

But just like that, he drops his hand and you both avert your eyes.

“It’s, um...getting late,” you break the silence. “We better get settled before it really starts getting cold in here.”

Frankie clears his throat, nodding in agreement and standing to pile some blankets onto the couch.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Um...you know I don’t have the guest room set up. There’s just the bed in my room. You go get cozy, I’ll take the couch.”

"What? I'm not gonna steal your bed, Fr—"

“And I'm not going to have you uncomfortable in my house,” he brushes you off with a wave of the hand. “It's fine, querida, really. You know I've knocked out on this couch more times than I can count." Your chest warms at the sound of his pet name for you. It's harmless, just something he's always called you. But for some reason it makes your face warm to hear it this time.

“No, I mean...isn’t it better if we share? I think the whole point is to keep our bodies warm. It’s easier to do that if we’re in one room.”

He finally meets your eyes again, holding your gaze as though there's more than one thing on his mind, then runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

“I...Are you sure? I really don’t have any problem with—”

You smile softly at him, trying to hide any indication of awkwardness in your tone. “Yes, Frankie, it’s fine. Really. Besides, we can stack all our blankets together this way.”

He smiles back. “I have a big, fluffy one we can use, too.”

~

All the remaining heat in the house has definitely dissipated now, leaving behind a frigid chill. It's bearable for the time being, but leaves your skin covered in goosebumps anytime you expose so much as a sliver of skin to the air. The last time you checked, the snow had already made a significant cushion to the ground outside, and was still going strong.

You've been in bed for an hour or two, huddled into a ball underneath several layers of blankets and refusing to move because it only makes you colder to shift the air around.

Frankie's asleep next to you—you assume he's asleep, anyways. Neither of you have said a word in a while, and with the pattering sounds of snow falling outside, you're getting drowsy yourself. Still, you haven't been able to fall asleep, not even when you jam your eyes shut. It's too cold, for one thing, and for another, it's difficult to ignore the fact that he is right next to you. It's a big bed and there's a decent space between you, but still.

You shift positions yet again, trying to wrap yourself tighter in your section of the blankets. You move to readjust one of the blankets that's gotten pushed away, accidentally bumping Frankie's arm in the process. You grimace, hoping you didn't wake him.

"Your hand is like ice," Frankie's quiet voice suddenly fills the room.

"Oh—Sorry. I thought you were asleep," you mutter back, your voice muffled by the blankets.

"No. It's hard enough for me to sleep even when there's not a historic snowstorm going on." He jokes, though you know it goes deeper than that for him.

Not really knowing how to respond, you remain silent. Rolling onto your side facing away from him, you tuck yourself further into the blankets before resolving to pull them up and over your head entirely.

Frankie's soft laugh rumbles next to you. "Seriously, your skin is frozen," he tells you. “You’re like the opposite of a space heater right now,” he chuckles and you can hear the grin on his face.

You push the blanket off your face, feigning a groan. “Freezing weather and a lack of heat lends to poor circulation, Francisco.”

"I know, I just…maybe it would…it might be warmer if we slept closer together." His voice is so soft that you can’t help but think how nice it would be to fall asleep to the sound of it every night.

When you don’t answer right away he quickly adds, “Or not—I wasn’t trying to...I didn’t mean—Sorry.” Frankie shuffles uncomfortably under the covers.

“No, you’re right,” you murmur hesitantly, barely louder than a whisper. “It...would probably help.”

A beat of silence.

Then you hear Frankie gently move his pillow over towards you, scooting himself in until you can feel his warmth against you. He doesn’t move again at first, you only feel his chest rising and falling against your back. But ever so slowly, he wraps an arm over you, the weight of him sturdy and comforting. You can tell he’s tense—hesitant—until you place your own hand on his, holding him closer to you. Feeling you make yourself comfortable must put him at ease, and he relaxes around you. Neither of you say a word, just lay there sharing each other’s warmth.

You’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder on some late nights on the couch before—things two normal, friendly people do, right? But you’ve never let yourself think too much about it. You can hardly help it now, reveling in the way you feel safe in his arms, fitting perfectly along the curve of his body. You are warmer, although some of it may be because of the way your pulse is just a little bit quickened. You wouldn't mind if you had to stay like this forever.

Frankie quietly exhales, his breath warm against the back of your hair. “Better?” he finally speaks, his voice gravelly and hushed, not much louder than the sound of snow hitting the window.

A pause. “Yeah.”

You feel him relax even more, burying his cheek a little more into the space above your shoulders. “Let’s try to sleep, then, querida.”

And just like that, Frankie Morales manages to make you fall a little bit more in love with him.

It’s then that you realize—it’s always been simple with him. Everything is always...easy with him. Nothing’s overcomplicated or messy; it’s just you and Frankie. It’s what drew you to him first, long ago. It wasn’t the outspoken openness that that others had, nor the confident resolve, but the quiet way he cares for you. The way he manages to always make you laugh, even at the times when it’s almost impossible to. The way he makes you feel so whole that you forget there was ever anything missing in the first place. That’s how he found his way, permanently, into your heart.

For Frankie, it’s always been you. You’re a grounding presence to him, someone who’s made him familiar with peace again over the years.

He lies there listening to the sounds of your breathing, sure that you’re finally fast asleep. He feels sleep coming over himself, too. He knows he’ll sleep a little easier tonight with you. He’ll weather anything when it comes to you. That’s how he knows, and convinces himself that once this storm business is over, he’ll tell you. For now, he lets himself follow you into slumber. His last conscious thoughts are of how he wouldn't mind having you in his arms like this every night, and if it weren't for your warmth lulling him to sleep, he might've confessed to you right then and there.

 ~

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#frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales #pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #my ff

[fangirleaconmigo]

Eskel is wounded in a hunt, and no one in the three towns he passes on his way back to Kaer Morhen will give him aid.

Geralt has a bit of a breakdown about it.

This is Eskel x Geralt hurt/comfort fic. You can also read it as x Lambert, but that isn't explicitly defined, as this focuses on Geralt mostly. But they obviously all love each other.

About 2500 words. Rated Teen I guess? Not explicit. Now beta’ed and posted on AO3.

------

Rage pressed out from Geralt’s chest cavity, like bony fingers clawing an escape. Freezing wind whipped his hair into his eyes. He growled in frustration and shook his head to clear his vision. He brought the sledgehammer down on the last remnants of the shed. It cracked and threw splinters into the furious wind.

A throat made a scraping sound behind Geralt. He jerked in surprise, and whipped around, eyes still wild.

“Hate to interrupt, but he’s asking for you.”

Lambert looked comfortable, as though he had been leaning against the tree for an age. Geralt dropped the hammer.

“Oh.” He looked around the wreckage of the perfectly good structure that he had spent a week building. The scrapes on his knuckles and the rips in his trousers told the story of his outburst, if the ruined shed hadn’t done so. “Fuck. How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.”

Geralt pushed his hair out of his face with fingers that were unsteady and still unsure of why they no longer gripped the handle of a hammer. Then he rubbed his eyes.

“Take a breath, big guy,” said Lambert.

Geralt’s body instinctively obeyed, and his chest expanded as he pulled in a deep breath. What he had done was setting in. “Why didn’t you stop me, then?”

Geralt knew it wasn’t Lambert’s job to stop him from having mental breakdowns, but he felt defensive. He had given himself one brief moment of self indulgence, and all of this rage had just roared into being. The thought that he didn’t actually know what was inside the yawning chasm of his own heart was terrifying.

It was also embarrassing.

“We all need to let it out sometimes.” Lambert shrugged.

Geralt began to realize how cold he was, and therefore how freezing cold Lambert must be.

“Sorry. I’m an idiot.”

“Ah,” Lambert said easily, dismissing him out of hand. “It’s a relief to see someone else in this family admit to how fucked up it all is.”

Lambert did look relieved. There was recognition in his face. Kinship. Geralt felt a twinge of guilt. How lonely he must feel sometimes.

“How do you handle this? How do you get rid of it? It feels like shit.”

Lambert pressed the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he considered the question. “Being an asshole helps sometimes. Revenge is good. But don’t take my word for it, I’m not the model of fitting witcher behavior.” The last three words were said in a mimicry of Vesemir’s voice. He held both hands up in a sarcastic surrender.

Geralt thought for a moment. Lambert allowed the silence to stretch out between them.

“I know the new cleric down in Ard Carraigh has been working people up, turning them against us. It’s made everything worse,” said Geralt. The gut wrenching image of Eskel bleeding, gasping, and cradling his split open wound as town after town turned him away, blazed to life again in his mind’s eye. He clenched both fists. “It didn’t have to be that way. If only one of those motherfuckers, if only one of them had helped him...he almost...he almost died.” Geralt spat the final word and when he did, he could feel hot tears prickling his eyes.

“I know,” said Lambert. “Believe me I know. But he wants to see you, and you can’t go in there like this. Breathe.”

Geralt nodded and breathed again.

“How’s this?” offered Lambert, “If you don’t come to your senses by the time the snow melts, I promise I’ll help you come up with a really good way to fuck with that self righteous piece of shit in Ard Carraigh.”

Geralt laughed airily. “Yeah, alright.” He put his hands on his hips and waited for his thudding heart to settle.

Lambert’s eyes lit up with glee. “Really?”

Geralt nodded. “Really.”

“Alright. Now come on.” Lambert began walking towards the keep, and beckoned for him to keep pace.

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

Geralt washed his hands and cleaned his cuts. Then he changed into fresh clothes and let himself into Eskel’s room with the soft creak of a door.

Eskel lay in bed with his eyes closed. It was a large bed, piled with just about every spare quilt they had been able to find. A neat bandage was wrapped around Eskel’s stomach. Vesemir had done it as Geralt cursed himself for his shaking hands. Eskel was a shade more pale than his usual warm brown. He looked drained, of blood and of energy. The lines of his face were slack, and his hands rested with fingers laced across his chest.

The sight of him provoked a tangle of emotions in Geralt. The usual feeling gripped him of course...the one he felt whenever he saw Eskel’s familiar face...the full lips that melted him to a large helpless puddle whenever they smiled or kissed him....the round, solid shoulders that were the best place on the continent to lay your head. That bit wasn’t a mystery. It was just love. That was the most natural thing in the world for Geralt to feel for Eskel.

But the soft pink suggestion of blood beneath the white cloth kindled a very different feeling. That was the rage. Still there. There were probably not enough structures on the continent for him to destroy to sate it. Also, the slight puffiness in Eskel’s skin surrounding the bandage implied a nascent infection they would have to continue to fight off. That provoked a feeling of powerlessness that threatened to shatter him from the inside out. It intertwined with the desperation to kiss his soft stomach...to make it better somehow.

But he couldn’t make it better. He couldn’t heal him. He couldn’t protect him. He couldn’t do anything at all but be angry and fucking useless. Impotent, helpless, and fucking useless.

What good was it? He thought. What good was love, if no matter the degree of its ferocity, it would never be enough to protect the ones you loved?

For a moment he truly glimpsed the reality of his powerlessness, paired with the vulnerability of Eskel’s flesh. His body. His heart. It could just stop beating, and there would be nothing Geralt could do to help it. The breath sucked from his body, and he swayed, dizzy on his feet.

Eskel opened his eyes, and as he focused on Geralt, he blinked at the look of anguish on his face.

“Hey, wolf. Hey. I’m good. I’m here. C’mere.” He tried to lift an arm to beckon him to bed, but he winced.

His voice was soft and gentle, as though Geralt were the wounded one. That broke the spell of despair gripping him, and he rushed to Eskel’s side. He sat down gingerly next to him on the bed. Eskel leaned his head into Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt situated himself so he could wrap his arms around Eskel’s shoulders, and he dropped a kiss onto the top of his head.

Eskel made a noise of contentment. They sat there for a short moment, breathing together in the quiet room.

“Hey,” said Eskel. He looked up, concerned.

“What?” Geralt asked.

“Hey!” Eskel sat up and unwound Geralt’s arms from his shoulders. He squeezed Geralt’s hands in his. “You’re trembling. What’s going on? What are these scrapes from? Are you hurt?”

Geralt snorted and gently pulled his hands back, tucking them at his side. He was too much of a mess to hide his little breakdown. He would have to explain just a bit. “No. You’re the one that’s hurt. I’m fine. Just. You know. I hate...I hate seeing you hurt.”

Eskel tilted his head. “I said I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt.”

Eskel looked at him quizzically, and dug Geralt's hands back from his sides and clasped them again. He swept his thumb gently below his injured knuckles.

“This is our job, Geralt. Our life. We’ve been doing it for almost eighty years.”

Geralt swallowed. It was true. He felt ridiculous, of course. And defensive. Like he needed to explain himself.

“I know. I know.” He thought of why this was different. But it really wasn’t. Factually, this was just another hunt. Another instance of humans treating them like garbage. He shouldn’t care anymore. And yet? “And most of the time,” he pressed ahead, “I don’t notice. Wounds. Dressings. Combat. The sun rises, the sun sets. It is what it is. I tell myself that all the time. Why worry about something you can’t change?”

Eskel touched a stray bit of Geralt’s hair and tucked it behind his ear. “Then what? What was different about this one?”

He sounded so gentle. He was always so gentle. Geralt couldn’t bear it sometimes.

“Nothing,” he choked out. “There was nothing different about it. It’s just that sometimes...” he leaned back against the bedframe and looked at the ceiling. He just couldn’t look at Eskel right now. “Sometimes I look at you,” he continued haltingly, “and I see the bruises. I see the wounds.”

“You don’t usually see them?” Eskel was teasing him lightly, trying to make him smile.

“Not really. They’re just things to fix. Things to bandage. Things to watch disappear and then on to the next hunt.” He was silent for a good long stretch. Eskel didn’t fill it. He just brushed the palms of his hand and waited. “But then. Every once in a while, I see them for what they are. They are things and people who hurt you. Who stood there, and fucking hurt you. Who saw you as a thing to hurt. And I want to burn down the whole world.”

He pretended that he didn't notice the tear the slid down his cheek.

He finally looked at Eskel, who was sitting up now and watching him intently, with a complicated look on his face.

“Geralt. I’m fine.”

Geralt looked away again, dragging his arm across his face to dry it. “But you almost weren’t.” His voice insisted on breaking, against his will. He cleared his throat. “You could have died. And why? Because no one in three towns would help you? People who you’ve helped countless times??” He felt the thudding rage threaten to swell again like the first ripples of a tsunami.

“Geralt,” Eskel touched his chin. Geralt turned, and was rewarded with a soft look and a kiss. “I don’t have your pretty face, wolf. Even if I weren’t a witcher, they would react the way they do.”

Geralt knew it was true. Eskel’s looming size. His voice. The way his eyes seemed to glow. The scars. All things he loved. But not everyone else did. He clenched his fists. “Idiots.”

Eskel loosened his fingers and clasped them again. “It’s been ages since I got the scars. I’m used to it.”

“Yeah well. You shouldn’t have to be,” hissed Geralt. “Sometimes,” he remembered Lambert’s voice telling him to breathe, so he did. Eskel watched him with concern and something else. Affection. That was it. “Sometimes," Geralt tried again. “I just want you to have the gentle life that you deserve.”

And there it was. As sensible, as strong as Geralt tried to be...as he was, sometimes he was like a little child stamping about how unfair the world was. How he wished it were different. Ridiculous. Fucking stupid.

He waited for Eskel to tell him again that he was fine. To be practical, like he always was. To tell him that it was better than what a lot of people got. That most of the time, he liked being a witcher. That he was good at it. Eskel was like that. Even. Solid. Where Lambert wanted to punch destiny in its smug face, and Geralt hid from the spiteful bitch, Eskel just rode it. Like a ship on a wave. Sometimes he and Lambert resented his ability to do that.

But Eskel didn’t do any of that. He looked at Geralt, and his expression was so raw that Geralt was taken aback. And he was taken back. That was a look he hadn’t seen in many years. It wiped about seventy years away from Eskel’s face. Geralt was transported to this same room. But instead of a large bed, there were two bunkbeds. And instead of two grizzled witchers, there were two small, hopeful, frightened boys, who loved without wariness. Without skepticism. Without doubts.

Eskel pulled his hands to his lips and kissed each knuckle softly, in turn.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice husky.

Geralt shook his head. “Ah, for what? Me being angry doesn’t do anything. It doesn’t help you heal faster.”

“You don’t know that. It might.”

Eskel patted the blanket covering him. “Crawl in with me wolf. We’ll huddle together until it passes.”

The corner of Geralt’s mouth twitched into the hint of a smile despite himself. It was what Eskel used to say when Geralt had nightmares and he would stand stupidly around Eskel’s bed, hoping to be invited in. Geralt had always made up some excuse to accept his kindness. Something that wouldn’t be interpreted as weakness.

“Alright, but only because I want to keep you safe.”

Eskel grinned his lopsided, perfect grin. “I feel safer already.” That was what he used to say. Even as a child he knew how to respond to Geralt. How to handle his pride and his need to be the hero.

Geralt slid under the covers, still fully clothed. He laid his head on Eskel’s shoulder and gingerly draped his arm across his chest, avoiding his injury. With his free hand, Eskel turned his chin to face him.

They kissed, slow and unhurried. Geralt barely pressed against his lips, his fingers ghosting Eskel’s cheek. They could have kissed for a minute, or an hour, or a day. Geralt lost track of time, love settling in his chest and chasing away the rage and the fear. He could also hear Eskel’s pulse growing more steady. He could see that some color had already returned to his cheeks.

Maybe he wasn’t so useless after all.

Then, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Eskel called.

Lambert swung open the door and stood there with a shit eating grin. “Did Geralt tell you we’re gonna go down to Ard Carraigh and really stick it to some piece of shit priest? We’re gonna work out how to make him really suffer.”

Eskel raised his eyebrows and turned to Geralt.

Geralt shrugged. “I’m not saying I won’t.”

Lambert laughed and took stock of the two of them. “Look at you. Two bugs snug in a rug.”

“Come on,” said Eskel. “You too.” He patted the bed on the other side of him. Lambert’s grin stretched wider and he clambered in, pressing up against Eskel, warming himself with relish. He reminded Geralt of a blissed out lizard sunning himself on a rock. Eskel managed to turn enough to plant a kiss on Lambert’s cheek.

Lambert made that noise he always made when he loved something but didn’t want to admit it. It was like a combination of a snort and a laugh.

And when Vesemir came into the room in the morning to check Eskel’s dressing, he found them all asleep side by side.

He chuckled and watched them for a moment as they drooled and snored against one other.

The remaining Kaer Morhen wolves, together.

It was as it should be, how it always was, and how it would ever be.

They needed each other, after all.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #eskel #geralt x eskel #gereskel #geskel #Eskralt #seriously we need to come to a consensus on this ship name #lambert #vesemir #this is not what i was supposed to be writing #but it is what wanted to be written

[sundaysundaes]

My Words, Your Thoughts (Teaser)

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

Part of the beautiful ‘Aubade’ collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​

Synopsis: As an introvert, you are familiar with the silence. Drowning yourself deep in your thoughts has been a habit you’ve become addicted to. Your life begins to change, however, ever since the day you turned twenty. Suddenly, there’s this song that’s stuck in your head, and no matter how much you yearn to hear your thoughts or be comforted by the silence, it keeps on playing. You only get to find the answer to your problem when a young, cute barista hands you a cup of coffee one day, with that song’s lyrics written on the side. And you realize that you’re not the only one who’s been hearing voices in your head.

Warnings: explicit sex, expletives, mentions of physical abuse and astraphobia (not for the main characters)

WC (Teaser): 4k

Release Date: June 27, 2021, 10 AM KST

It’s weird. It’s so weird.

It’s weird that you’ve been hearing this song replaying over and over again in your head when you’re sure you’ve never listened to it before. It’s also weird because sometimes the song sounds like the ones you often hear about on the radio—complete with instrumental accompaniment and everything—but most of the time, it just sounds like someone is humming to it. Sometimes quietly, but more often than not, vehemently like they’re having a concert in the shower, not caring if the neighbors might hear.

As someone who rarely listens to mainstream music, you don’t keep up with the trend these days but the tunes are catchy enough that you think, maybe, it’s one of those Justin Bieber’s songs people always talk about. You’re not fond of it, though, so even if you’ve heard it somewhere in a cafe or a mall, there’s very little chance you’ll be humming it in your head.

And yet, it keeps on playing.

It gets worse when it goes on for a whole day—a whole fucking day—that your brain feels like it’s seconds away from bursting into pieces. It doesn’t even sound like your voice. It seems like it belongs to a male, a bit light and a pitch higher than most. Though it sounds pleasant, the voice is unfamiliar to your ears and that’s what bothers you the most. 

Trying your best to escape, you plug in your AirPods to your earholes, choosing one of the most beloved tracks from your playlist—today, it’s Bloom by The Paper Kites—to help you relax as you lie down on your bed. But no matter how many times you turn up the volume—it’s practically turning you deaf, ironically—you can still hear that one goddamn song playing.

“Oh my God,” you groan, projecting a murderous glare at the ceiling of your room before you shriek all of your heart’s content to your pillow. “Make it stop!”

This has been going on ever since your twentieth birthday and it’s been three months since then—three months of suffering, to be exact. Fortunately for you, you haven’t been listening to the same song for those amount of time—God, you would’ve killed yourself if that was the case. The song changes without warning. It can change ten times within a day, or stay the same for ten days. You have never heard of these songs except for the popular ones, and even then, you only ever listened to snippets as they don’t suit your taste. 

So… It doesn’t make sense that you could recite the whole lyrics, does it? 

And yet, you can. 

Somehow, you already know every word, every tune, even every ad-lib in these songs and it both amazes and creeps you out. It’s as if somebody else is singing about it in their mind, and you, somehow, are mentally connected to them.

But that’s surely not the case, right?

With more days passing by, as your brain deteriorates little by little, you start to think that maybe that is the case.

Or maybe you’re just going crazy.

It’s nine in the morning and your eyes are bleary from how you involuntarily skipped sleep last night. With the loudest sigh and your half-charged MacBook sitting still in your backpack, you let your wobbly legs carry you to the nearest coffee shop. There’s a new Starbucks store opening just a couple of blocks away from your apartment and it’s perfect since you’re going to pass it every day on your way to college. 

You’re not excited though, not when you have Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror playing in your head for the, approximately, thirty-fifth time that day. And it’s only nine in the fucking morning.

When you enter the coffee shop, greeted by a cute Christmas tree and festive decorations spreading all over the place even when it’s still three weeks away from the holiday, you almost weep in joy when the song stops playing in your head. It does happen from time-to-time, sometimes it stops for a few hours before it starts again with the same song or an entirely different one. But in most cases, it only pauses for a few minutes which just doubles the torture whenever you’re trying to concentrate on your paperwork.

“Hi.” You display a timid smile at a female barista, slightly wincing when the song in your head starts blaring again, as expected. It’s still the same song this time—so that thirty-sixth by now, Jesus Christ—but instead of someone humming it, it’s the original version that plays. You’re having trouble focusing on her greeting when the sound of a synthesizer echoes through your ear, stridently so. “I would like a tall skinny latte with a double shot, please.”

“Would you like anything else to accompany your drink?”

Perhaps a gun to blow my head off? “No, thanks. That’d be all for me.”

“Is that for here or to go?”

You take a quick scan of your surroundings. You still have an hour before your first class starts and since the place isn’t that crowded, you figure you might as well just spend some time here. “For here.”

You tell her your name and slide down your card to complete the payment. “All right. We will call your name once your order is ready.”

“Fantastic. Thanks.” As the female barista takes an order from another customer, you drag yourself to an empty seat in the corner of the room, next to the glassy window where you can glance at passersby. You lay your head down on the table, cheek pressed against the wooden surface, lower lip jutting out in weariness. You’re drowsy and you want to think about the snow that’s probably gonna fall sometimes near Christmas’ Day and maybe the sight of a warm fireplace where you can cozy up with your imaginary boyfriend (also known as Jung Jaehyun—that one perfect boy who lives just across of your hallway), but no, unfortunately for you, you no longer have any space left in your brain since Michael Jackson is performing a damn concert and it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna stop anytime soon.

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror…” Great, now you’re singing it. “I’m asking him to change his ways…”

The music in your head abruptly stops again but before you can close your eyes to finally enjoy your silence, a familiar voice chimes in.

“It’s a great song, isn’t it?”

Shocked, you quickly lift your head to identify a male barista placing down a cup of your ordered latte on your table. You swear you recognize his voice but his face doesn’t ring a bell.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I don’t usually bring orders directly to the table but I think I misheard your name so I couldn’t call you out from there.”

“That’s, umm, that’s okay…” You hide the bottom half of your face behind your scarf as you’re not used to talking to a stranger, especially one that looks overwhelmingly pretty. “What did you think my name was?”

“Umm…” He rubs the back of his nape awkwardly. “I don’t think you want to know. It was a bit… inappropriate.”

“R-right…” You glance at the cup. “It says ‘Michael.’”

He chuckles but with only a slight hint of amusement in it. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to come up with something and it was the first thing that came to mind.”

“And it has…” Your eyes widen when you notice the words he’s written on the side of your cup. It’s not a greeting, it’s not a motivational sentence, it’s the fucking lyrics to Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror.

“Yeah, okay, so—” Noticing the appalled look on your face, he hurriedly tries to reason out. “I’ve had this song stuck in my head all day long—I just listened to it a minute ago while making your order—and the lyrics are just so inspirational so I decided to write that down. I hope that’s not too weird.” Then he laughs a little, a tad more genuinely this time. “But I heard you singing that song just now. What are the chances, right?”

You swallow hard. He’s been thinking about that song too? Listened to it a minute ago? What are the chances of this is happening? Is he the one whose voices I’ve been hearing in my head—

The male barista abruptly takes a step back, his tray nearly slipping out of his hold. He has a hand pressed against his ear, eyes blinking several times in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You—” He splutters, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

“What?” The way he seems like he’s looking at a ghost sends goosebumps all over your skin. “What is it?”

“Think about something.” 

“Umm—” What is he talking about?

This time he gapes, his jaw dropping low. “Holy shit, I can really hear you. Think about something else—think about me.”

“Look, I don’t know you and you’re being weird.” The sudden change of conversation baffles you but when his words sink in, you can’t stop yourself from thinking about him as he orders. He’s cute, his entire features are cute—you’ve noticed that from the first second you laid your eyes on him, but what catches your eyes the most is his lips—the way they’re shaped so beautifully, like a cupid’s bow—

“You’re thinking about my lips? Seriously?” He asks, but might as well splash cold water to your face. “If you said something about my eyes, sure, I mean, they are attractive. One might even say that God Himself took the stars from the sky and put them in my eyes—but my lips? Huh, that’s new.”

You loudly gasp when you’re finally aware of the situation, hands flying to your face to cover your gaping mouth. “You can hear my thoughts!”

“And you can hear mine too!” He points out, and as startled as you are from the previous realization, you instantly frown upon his words. 

“I don’t think so,” you reply. “I can only hear—”

“Donghyuck-ah!” Another barista comes to interrupt from the other side of the room. “We didn’t pay you to flirt, come back here!”

“I wasn’t flirting!” He shouts back, tips of his ears reddening. When he turns to you again, he has a prominent scowl on his face which makes you squirm on your feet. “We need to talk about this. My break is in an hour, do you think you can wait?”

It sounds more like an order than a request. “B-but I have a class in an hour.”

“Skip it.”

It takes all the strength in your body to be brave enough to retort back with, “Why don’t you skip your work?”

“I’m already half-done with my work, I can’t bail out now.” He rolls his eyes. Suddenly, his courteousness just vanishes without a trace. “Look, I’ve been hearing your thoughts for months now and I have a lot to complain to you about.”

You grimace. “It’s not like I can control my thoughts—”

“I know, I’m not blaming you.” He picks up the tray, his gaze softening but only slightly. “I just want to complain. You’ve been driving me crazy these past few months.”

You glance away, pouting. Wow, he surely knows how to befriend a stranger.

“I can hear you, you know.” He sighs as if talking to you is exhausting, when it should be the other way around. “Look, I’m sure you’ve been going through the same thing. Don’t you want this to stop?”

You’re not wasting any second. “Yes, please.”

“Then wait for me. We’ll talk this through.” He pivots on his heels, his tray glued to his side. When you can finally breathe properly, exhausted from the social interaction as you sink back to your seat, the barista—Donghyuck—adds, “Oh, as you wait. Can you please stop thinking about my lips? Or just how cute I am in general? It’s sweet but I gotta concentrate so I won’t write another Michael on my next order.”

You slam your forehead down the table, face aflame. “I-I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

***

“You just can’t stop thinking about my lips, can you?” Is the first thing Donghyuck states out as soon as he’s approached your table. He runs a hand through his brown hair, which looks out-worldly fluffy that you begin to wonder what kind of hair product he’s been using. “Or my hair.”

Mortified, you mumble out, “I’m sorry,” with half of your face covered by your hands. The more I try not to think about his lips, the more I do—shit, is he hearing this too—

“Yes,” Donghyuck says, but this time with an amused smile. “Man, I didn’t know my lips were that appealing to ladies. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Well, he’s making you blush for sure. “Would it be too much to ask for you to stop listening to my thoughts?”

“Believe me, woman, I’ve tried.” He groans, taking his apron off before he sits in front of you. He loosens up his collar, unbuttoning two buttons of his white shirt—which is two more than necessary to your liking—and you have to gaze away before another thought forms inside your head about a certain part of his body. 

“Sorry if I came on too strong before. I’m Lee Donghyuck,” he introduces formally, offering you his hand. You reply with your name but you’re reluctant to shake his hand since you’re sure you’re breaking into a cold sweat, and an overly sweaty palm doesn’t really scream attractive—

“It’s literally just a handshake,” he says, stifling down a laugh. “I’m not gonna start judging you about it. You’re cute, sweaty palms or not.”

You nearly choke. “If I can’t ask you to stop listening to my thoughts, can you please be quiet about them?”

“That’s also impossible since talking is an integral part of my charm.” He leans back to his chair. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.”

That was… a poor choice of words, you think, as you stare at his lips and can’t help but wonder what can that mouth do other than talking. You take a bite of the bagel you just ordered, desperately trying to avert your attention.

“It wasn’t a poor choice of words.” He winks. “I did mean that in every way possible.”

This time, you really are choking.

“Okay, so what’s happening to us?” Donghyuck questions, after you manage to shed a tear or two during your attempt in relieving your throat. “Why have I been hearing your thoughts? I don’t even know you.”

“Same here.” You’re still going through a hard time keeping eye contact with him, but with more seconds passing by—and him pronouncing every bit of your thoughts out in the open—the knots inside your chest begin to loosen. “Ever since I turned twenty, I’ve been hearing these songs playing in my head that I’d never even heard of.”

“Never heard of?” Donghyuck snorts. “What, you never listen to Billboard’s top forty?”

You weakly shrug. “I prefer indie music better. Or instrumentals.”

“I would say that you have a soul of an old lady but the way you’ve been thinking about my lips reminds me of my sister who’s going through puberty.”

“Okay, this isn’t fair.” You shake your head, ashamed and tired of being humiliated over something you can’t fix. “Why can you hear my thoughts but I can’t hear yours?”

“Believe me, you’re much better off this way.” His face contorts in pain which makes you feel somewhat sorry if he’s not constantly being an ass about it. Hearing your insult, he notes, “Also, I’d prefer to be called with terms of endearment in the future, if that’s okay with you. Something like Babe or Darling.” The way he raises his eyebrow is just strictly illegal. “And in return, I’ll call you Sweetheart.” But before you can say anything—or run toward a running bus to put an end to this endless humiliation—he questions, “Wait, when you hear the songs I’ve been thinking in my head, does it sound like the original version of the song, or like me singing it?”

Finally, a proper conversation. “If you’re listening to the actual music, I can hear the original song as if I’m hearing it through my headphones. But when you’re just thinking about it, well, I‘ve never heard you sing, but,” you decide to tease him back—which startles you from how blatant you’re being. “From how amateur and pitchy this voice sounded in my head, I think I’ve been hearing yours.”

“Cute.” He scrunches up his nose. “Okay, let’s try again. Can you hear what song running through my head now?”

You stiffen, sitting in silence. After a few seconds pass by with only you exchanging stern stares at each other, your eyes gleam with a spark of hope. “Wait, I can’t hear you. Does this mean it stops? Because we’ve met in person?”

“Sadly no, because I was just thinking about how silly you looked when you choked over your food earlier.” He chuckles to himself and sends you another wink when you degrade him in your head. “Okay, let’s try again.”

“For real this time?”

“For real this time, Sweetheart.” He closes his eyes, holding back a smile when he catches how you flinch a little at his pet name for you. This time, you really do hear him humming inside your mind. “Don’t tell me by words,” he immediately adds, “Just think about them.”

Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes too. I’ve heard this song somewhere.

“If you’ve never heard about this song, I will literally cry and apologize to the world on your behalf.”

Be quiet, please, I’m trying to concentrate.

“Worried that you’d be thinking about my lips again?”

You almost fall from your seat. Almost. Okay, you’re singing to… You knit your eyebrows together as you provide your best effort to remember the tunes. You’re singing to Super Mario Bros theme song?

“Correct.” He taps his fingers to the table, simpering. “This is actually pretty cool. We can be, like, partners in crime or something.”

You shudder. “Please don’t tell me you’re an actual criminal.”

“If looking this handsome is a crime then I am, yes. Guilty as charged.” He makes a kissy face when you think about throwing the rest of your bagel to his head. “You look like someone who writes fan-fiction about their idols having sappy first kisses in your spare time but you’re actually pretty wild in your head, aren’t you?” He loves seeing your reactions, you know that, so you give your all in trying to act nonchalant. “Now, let’s try again. Did you bring your headphones with you?”

You check your coat’s pocket. “I got my AirPods.”

“Perfect. Put them on and play something from your phone.” As someone who’s pretty carefree, he can get serious at times. “Play as loud as you can until you feel like you’re going deaf.”

“I’ve tried that many times.” You nearly wail at the memory. “But it’s hard to drown your voice since it comes from inside my head.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’ve been hearing your thoughts too, remember? Don’t you think I would at least try something like that?” You narrow your eyes menacingly at him but he simply waves you off. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m trying to do. Put them on and you’ll see.”

He’s ordering you around. He just met you and he’s ordering you around. Socializing with people in general already zaps your energy pretty quickly, so socializing with a brat—

“I’ll grow on you, don’t worry.” He smirks and you take a mental note to really learn how to control your thoughts this time.

You follow his lead, as requested, connecting your AirPods to your phone and play something relaxing—because God knows how desperately you need it—as loudly as you can bear. Okay, go try… whatever it is that you want to try.

He smiles and shifts slightly on his seat, facing the window. His eyes glimmer under the light when he parts his lips, mouthing some words—no, singing something that you can’t hear.

Wait. I can’t hear?

Donghyuck glances at you, a grin breaking further on his lips upon hearing your thought. He gestures to you to take your AirPods away and you nod. Vacation Manor’s You promptly fades as his voice enters, and it’s weird because you’ve heard him sing in your head so many times yet it doesn’t do justice to how beautiful he sounds in real life.

It’s almost angelic, the sound he makes, which is kind of ironic for a little devil that he is. His honeyed voice is soothing, almost like the patter of rain on your window at dawn, lulling you back to sleep. You’re no expert in music but to you, he sounds impeccable that you run out of words to describe how pleasant his voice is to your ears. It’s so distinct, soulful—

Donghyuck giggles. “Thanks.”

—and annoying. “Okay, so what happened?” You try to divert the topic. “I can’t hear you when you’re singing out loud, but I can hear it when you’re thinking about a song?”

“I guess so.” He furrows his eyebrows, deep within his thoughts. “I figured it out when I couldn’t hear your thoughts whenever you spoke out loud. I think we can work from this?”

“So instead of thinking about what I have to say, I should focus more on saying what I want to say?” You shake in horror. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What, you don’t like talking?”

“I’m…” You swallow your breath. “I’m not really good at that.”

“You’re talking to me just fine now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, because you make it so easy.”

“Aaw,” he purrs, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

“No.” You hold up a hand. “I mean, since you can hear my thoughts, I have no other choice but to speak. Also, you seem like you’re the type who just says whatever that comes to mind without worrying too much about my feelings—”

“Hey, now you’re just making me sound rude—”

“You are rude,” You emphasize. “But it works well with me because then I don’t have to hold myself back and pretend to be somebody else.”

“Why do you have to pretend?” He frowns. “Because you’re afraid people are gonna hate you? Judge you on your words?”

“It’s…” You look away, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I just… I’m trying to be a good person so people will like me—”

“I like you,” he says casually as if he was talking about having a cute Pomeranian as a pet, and there you are, almost fainting in your seat. “I mean, in the last forty minutes I’ve known you, I think you’re great the way you are. You don’t have to be good, you just have to be you.” He shifts closer, crossing his arms on the table, and lays his chin on them, gazing up at you with a soft smile that doesn’t match well with his previous attitude. “Don’t you think it’s great if people accept you the way you are?”

You hurriedly take a sip of your coffee, pretending to swallow even if it’s already empty. “You’re… not so bad yourself.”

“What was that?”

“Okay, well I think I should go.” There’s no way you’re gonna repeat that. Donghyuck titters, taking a hold of your wrist when you’re about to stand up from your seat.

“We still have loads to talk about.” You observe the way his fingers linger around your arm, his sun-kissed skin feels silky smooth against your own. “Why don’t we have lunch together? My treat?”

“D-don’t you have work to do?”

“I’ll make an excuse.” 

A barista with the word Jeno written on his name tag walks by and slaps Donghyuck on the back of his head as if it’s something he’s done on a daily basis—probably is. “You’re not going anywhere, asswipe, get back to work.”

When the brunette boy turns to you, he winces. “Or maybe you can give me your number so we can meet up later?”

***

A/N: I’m both nervous and excited for this as this is my first collaboration. Thank you so much, Denise, for having me on this wonderful collab!

#haechan smut #haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan x reader #haechan collab #haechan scenarios #haechan imagines #nct smut #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct 127 #nct dream #haechan drabbles

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E138 & 139 (May 25, 2021)

Hello, you lovely people! It’s Tuesday and it’s time again for TM! Tonight’s guests: Marisha Ray & Liam O’Brien! The first picture that pops up when you google his name to check the spelling for the thousandth time is him with a shaved head, which is a wild look.

Ah! According to Dani, this is likely the last Zoom Talks! I’m so happy to hear this! They complain about Laura’s internet freezing constantly whenever she was about to say something exciting.

This episode is sponsored by The Elder Scrolls Online. As I’ve recently resumed my Skyrim run, this makes me crave it all over again.

Liam talks about having to drop everything to start the Zoom call, then having 27 minutes of technical difficulties before they could even begin recording. Augh, same hat.

Beau navigating the Astral Sea & Cognouza was empowering and unsettling. “This is the coolest! Uh oh.” It’s like seeing a new piece of RL tech come out and thinking about how it will change everything, then immediately thinking about how it’ll be abused, like deepfakes.

The first interactions with the Somnovem was overwhelming. They started fighting gnolls in a medieval towns and are now fighting interstellar beings. For Beau, it felt like talking to a really drunk friend. I actually love how she phrases this. “To me, it definitely felt like when you talk to one of your friends when they’re really drunk, and you’re like, ‘oh, I see what version of this person I have right now.’ And then you catch another version of that person on a shit day, and you’re like, ‘ah, I get it, you’re having a shit day.’ But then you catch them when they’re all put together and holding it down, and you’re like, ‘okay, you only hate yourself on the fringes.’ I get that. I found the Somnovem relatable.” Dani: “I too am just a collection of different emotions just barely hanging on by a thread.”

Marisha was able to put the pieces together of the ninefold emotions pretty quickly.

They do a whole tape-review bit after Brian mispronounces Yussa that is amazing. Aside from that, the M9 are glad they got him out of the city. It felt like a die-in-the-Matrix situation for him.

Liam kind of always suspected Matt would dangle the time-travel carrot in front of him. He honestly doesn’t know which way he’d go now. “For a long time, Caleb was like, ‘this doesn’t exist, so it doesn’t matter.’” It’ll probably be a mental coin flip if it comes down to an in-game decision.

"The dice are a CW producer,” when it comes to Beau & Yasha fighting each other.

They can’t remember another prolonged encounter bleeding into another encounter directly since Thordak/Raishan & Kevdak/the herd.

Cosplay of the Week: cattheterrible on Twitter with a beautiful Yasha.

Liam thinks Matt did a great job making it feel like a pressure cooker in terms of balancing their approaches between Lucien’s party & Cree. They’re also both very pleased that their plan with the threshold crests worked - it’s one of the few plans they’ve had across two campaigns that worked. (Honorable mentions they pull: intuit charges, Gelidon, Yenk/Vorugal from C1. “Will Friedle was a better [tactician] than all of us that entire campaign.”)

As far as the nine eyes on everyone go, “we’re all just one metaphysical garbage disposal.” Omar starts barking and they joke the dog will be SAG-eligible before Dani. Ha!

Just the idea of Aeor as a relic of history is massively important. They might die at any point, but if they live, Caleb thinks it’s so important to preserve that history Indiana-Jones-style, especially since it was obviously more advanced as a civilization.

Marisha wonders if they can bring forward the piece of Lucien that is Molly. “It’s a fractal. It’s that full molecular crystalline structure that’s repeating and recurring, and even if it’s several times removed, it still feels like part of the same thing. But maybe a different version, a different timeline of what Lucien is was more or less Molly, and can we Spiderverse the fuck out of this? Can we somehow recall that programming from whatever’s buried? [...] It’s like how moving things to your Recycling Bin doesn’t really clear them from your hard drive.”

Fanart of the Week: mellifera38 with a beautiful Lucien pre-tentacles. The card award shenanigans come complete with massive fireworks green screen display, a rainbow unicorn, a cease and desist letter, eagle wings, lasers, and a PHYSICAL CARD in his hand oh my gosh, to celebrate the final Zoom Talks.

Liam is glad Essek was there to help out with the dunamantic elements of their fights. He’s doing a lot to redeem himself. Liam is also thinking a lot about endgame, long-term repercussions of how this would affect the kingdoms.

Marisha finds the weasel being Artagan adorably traumatic and hilariously tragic. Not only was this poor weasel getting dragged to hell and back, sometimes his personality gets shoved to the side to allow Artagan in. Poor thing, ha! Liam talks about one aspect of the game is that you learn things about your character as ago and then apply it backwards; “We ragged on this weasel so hard, that Matt was like ‘fuck you guys, he’s alive because there’s a fey prince inside him’ and made it retroactive through time.” He’d noticed it for a while, but because there was no downtime in Aeor, there was never a chance to casually bring it up. Beau’s confirmation of seeing something weird about the weasel was a relief that he wasn’t crazy.

It’s a lot of pressure to be the “face” of the party, especially considering Beau’s CHA stat is low. Now it feels like siblings deliberately pushing Lucien’s buttons, except with the full recognition you’re poking a nuclear bomb. It’s honestly been fun, though - she loves being a smartass to people she should ABSOLUTELY not be saying things to. In Caleb’s mind, Beau is the closest thing the group has to a responsible hero. Cad is a great sage, but Beau does what she thinks is the right thing that needs to be done.

They both laugh at this being Matt’s love letter to FF games. They should have been ready for the transformation and the amazing spectacle of the whole thing.

And that is that is that! Brian thanks the guests, Dani, and the crew. “We did it! We did Zoom. Thank you Marisha especially, and our amazing production team for figuring out a way for us to be able to do this from home and make all the artwork and everything so awesome. Thank you to everyone who has touched the show in some way and helped us do it from home.”

Is it Thursday yet?

#talks machina #talks machina spoilers #critical role #critical role spoilers #long post for ts

[oumaheroes]

All Tied Up

Word Count: 2479

Characters: England, France- FrUK

---

‘What the fuck are those?’

France sighed from where he was hanging up his clothes in his hotel wardrobe, ‘Good evening to you too. Why are you in my room, already, Arthur? I only arrived half an hour ago, couldn’t you let me exist without your presence for just a few moments more?’

He hadn’t heard him come in; France didn’t think he’d left the door to his hotel open. Although, England did have a bad habit of quietly entering places rather too well for his liking, ‘It’s bad enough that I will have to endure so much of you this week.’

‘Fuck off. I was hungry, so I came to see if you’d eaten.’

France turned back to his open suitcase for another shirt, ‘And?’

England frowned at him, ‘And?’

‘And,’ France prompted, slipping his favourite dress shirt onto a hanger. It was wrinkled; he hoped there was a decent iron here, ‘what were you going to do then?’

England huffed at him, as if, somehow, he France was being the difficult one, ‘And if you hadn’t, I was going to go with you.’

‘Could you not ask me to dinner like a normal person?’

England ignored him and nodded his head to the top of France’s temporary wardrobe, ‘Why have you got those?’

France followed his eyeline, stepping back when he couldn’t see anything. A few paces back and beside England he could see there, right at the back and on the top shelf of the wardrobe, were a pair of handcuffs.

‘Bit lewd for a week-long conference, init?’

France raised an eyebrow at him, ‘Do you really think I’d be that crass for those to be mine?’ England said nothing but his look became a lot more pointed. A beat of silence later and France shrugged, ‘Fine. But those ones are not.’

‘Of course.’

‘Why on earth would I lie about that.’

England shrugged, ‘Why do you do most of what you do? I never know.’

‘No, because you’re far too dim.’

‘Dim? Coming from the bellend who takes handcuffs to a NATO summit in Toronto.’

‘They’re not mine- what are you doing?’

England had moved around him and crossed the room towards the wardrobe and was now reaching up to the back to grab the handcuffs. France looked at them in his hands and then around his temporary room in distain, ‘I can’t stay here anymore, who knows what else they missed cleaning.’

France imagined that poor Canada was probably stressed enough as it was hosting this thing and likely didn’t need any additional work, but the idea of sleeping in a bed that might not have been changed was not something that appealed to him in the slightest. If the handcuffs were missed by the cleaners who knew what else they had failed to catch.

England tutted, ‘Don’t be such a baby.’

‘I hardly think me caring about my personal hygiene is me being a baby.’

‘You’ve slept in worse.’ England paused, ‘You’ve left worse.’

France opened his mouth to retort but England made an approving sound, opening the cuff wider, ‘These are pretty good quality, you know.’

France rolled his eyes, ‘Oh, and you would know.’ England turned them over and France sniffed, tucking his hair behind his ears, ‘Put those back, they’re probably filthy.’

‘No, I mean they look like they’re law enforcement rather than… well. Not.’

France stepped closer, ‘No look, they’re too flimsy.’ He pointed to the chain that connected the two cuffs, ‘and those are incredibly out of date- surely your police don’t still use these?’

England flushed, ‘Of course not! But I’ve seen a few of these about recently.’

‘Really? And how many decades ago was that? Twenty? Thirty?’

England waved a hand airily, ‘I don’t know, thereabouts maybe.’

‘You’re a fool.’

France made to take them from him but England pulled back sharply, ‘What are you doing?’

France blinked at his suspicious tone, ‘What are you doing? You’re not going to keep them, are you?’

‘No!’ England’s cheeks burned scarlet, ‘No of course not, but you reached for them so suddenly-‘

‘And what?’ France leant back and put a hand on his hip, ‘You thought I was attacking you?’

England scowled, ‘Well, it wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?’

‘Oh that is rich coming from you-‘

‘What’s that supposed to mean!’

‘You know full well what that means- look, just give them here.’ France lunged forwards, hoping to tug them out of England’s hands but England jumped away reflexively. Maybe he’d judged the angle wrong, or maybe England had tripped him somehow- either way France fell too sharply onto him and England gave a surprised yelp.

Click.

They froze, France with both hands balled in England’s shirt to keep him upright. One of them now had a shiny, very solid looking, handcuff around it.

They both stared at it in silence.

England gave a choked laugh and tried to cover it as a cough, ‘Francis, I swear I-‘

‘You arsehole!’

France shoved himself off and England held up his hands placatingly, ‘I swear I didn’t do that on purpose.’

‘Oh of course you didn’t!’ France held out his handcuffed arm out on front of him and shook it at England aggressively, ‘Take this off! Take it off right now!’

‘Okay okay, calm the fuck down, Jesus Christ.’

‘Calm? Calm? You tell me to be calm? I just got off a nine-hour flight only to be handcuffed by you of all people half an hour after I get in my fucking hotel? And you’re telling me to be calm?’

England, who had gone back to the wardrobe to feel about the top shelf, let out a soft, ‘ah’.

France laughed and shook his head, ‘No. No no, no don’t tell me there’s no key. Don’t you damn well dare.’

England, now that the initial shock of the situation had worn off, was clearly trying to hide that he was enjoying France’s predicament, ‘there’s no key.’

France threw a clothing hanger at him.

----

Two hours later, and things were no better.

France, (reasonably, he thought), refused to leave the room until the handcuffs were off and refused to let England leave the room until he’d fixed the problem that he’d created. England could agree that yes, maybe he had some part to play in all of this, but really it was France’s fault for lunging at him so suddenly and only agreed to stay if they ordered dinner first.

So, aside from a break to eat, France angrily chewing through a delivered meal he’d demanded England pay for in stony silence, they spent the time pulling apart the room and crawling to places France would never admit to crawling just in case the key had managed to slip down into some long-forgotten corner.

They’d both turned everything inside and out, upturning all of the drawers and taking off all of the bedding, but no luck. The wardrobe itself was fixed to the wall with no holes a key could have slipped through, so eventually France had to admit defeat and concede that there was no key to be found.

England, to his credit, did try to hold it together commendably well and had only let a euphoric grin slip through twice, both times of which he’d covered by burying his face behind something and pretending to cough until he’d smothered his glee enough to reappear with a blank expression. However, any time his eyes were caught by the glinting mental hideously shackled around France’s wrist, the corners of his mouth would twitch in a way that made France want to immediately wound him with the nearest blunt object.

Sadly for France, England was his best chance at getting him out of the current situation and so committing assault upon him was not the best resolution to his current troubles.

‘You’re going to have to do it,’ France said eventually after he’d finished rechecking a drawer England had already searched, (one could never be entirely sure that England was taking this seriously- being an almighty annoyance to France was one of his favourite pastimes, after all, and France didn’t want to assume the glimmer of remorse he had seen was genuine.)

‘Do what?’

‘Oh, don’t play the fool; get me out.’

England made a derisive noise, ‘Oh yes, sorry, let me just pull the key out of my ar-‘

‘No,’ France tutted at him and shifted through his suitcase to find his toiletry bag, ‘You may pretend to Australia that you do not know how to pick locks but we both know that you do¸ and seeing as there is no key and I am stuck here I’m sure you can pretend to forget that lie for just the moment.’

England snorted and took a hairpin that France offered him, ‘You have been watching far too many Hollywood films.’

France put a hand on a hip, ‘Can you do it or not.’

England bristled, ‘Of course I can. But hairpins like this aren’t exactly the bes-‘

France interrupted him with a shake of the wrist, ‘Do you see this still attached to me? I really do not care. Get me out.’

Muttering very gruesome sounding things under his breath, England pushed France down to sit on the bed and crouched before him, positioning France’s wrist upturned on his knees.

France nudged him gently with his foot and raised his eyebrows suggestively, ‘You didn’t have to handcuff me to get me here, you know.’

England swatted him away and looked at him in disgust, ‘Don’t you start.’ He bent apart the hairpin and worked it into the lock, twisting it slightly, ‘I wouldn’t want to anyway, you smell like plane.’

‘Oh! Oh, darling do tell me why that is. Hmm? Is it because I haven’t had the chance to shower yet, because I was attacked before I had even finished unpacking?’ He ran his free hand through England’s hair, ‘Why is this so long? Have you not had it cut since I last did it?’

England squinted at the handcuff and didn’t look up, ‘No, I’ve been busy.’ He twisted the hairpin and it made a very hopeful clicking sound, but nothing happened and England went back to jiggling it ever so slightly into different positions, ‘You can do it whilst we’re here.’

France huffed, ‘And what makes you think I can?’

‘You always take scissors with you.’

‘No, I meant what makes you think that I will.’ He brushed England’s fringe back from his forehead, measuring out its length between his fingers, ‘Just because I-‘

They both jumped, startled, as the door to France’s room burst open unexpectedly to reveal America in the doorway, ‘Yo Francis, we’re all going out to- what the fuck are you doing?!’

England’s head popped up and suddenly France could see all too clearly how this scene looked to America’s eyes: France, a fist buried in England’s hair and England crouched on his knees in front of him, head bent close to his lap.

England locked eyes with him, an expression of shock on his face, before flicking to America framed and frozen in the doorway. He held up a hand placatingly, ‘No it’s okay, they’re just handcuffs!’

‘Oh God!’ America clapped a hand over his eyes, ‘No way man, I do not wanna see that! Jesus, what is wrong with the both of you? Have you heard of locking the door?’

‘No!’ England stood up suddenly. He didn’t let go of the handcuff and the movement jerked up France’s arm roughly, causing him to give a cry of pain. England dropped his arm in horror, ‘It’s really not what it looks like.’

‘Okay, sure dude, whatever,’ still with his hand over his eyes, America backed away out into the corridor, ‘I’ll let everyone know you can’t come because you’re both occupied.’

‘No!’ France and England both shouted in unison but it was no use, America slammed the door and they could hear him running down the corridor in the direction of the stairs.

France sighed through his nose, ‘Well, that went well.’

----

England did eventually spring France loose. After turning off his phone and forcing France to silence his own and not touch it (they kept beeping, America worked fast at spreading the news) he managed to work his way into the lock after chewing it into more of a sharp point and bending it into ridiculous angles.

‘There you go, they can’t have been official handcuffs,’ France rubbed his wrist, relishing the feeling of the metal being gone, and picked up the handcuffs to turn them over, ‘police handcuffs wouldn’t be that easy to pick.’

England snorted and brushed down his trousers, ‘Or, maybe I’m rather good at it.’

France did pretend to politely consider this for a second, ‘Or, your police have never had quality handcuffs, which really does make your government’s further reduction of their budget particularly sad. What will they use next, cable ties?’

England scowled, ‘Is that any way to talk to someone who just freed you from handcuffs?’

‘Yes, if that same person put me in them.’

England gave a bark of laughter, ‘I’m sure you’ve done something recently to deserve it.’

France hmm’d and stood up to join him, ‘I’m glad your alternate reality entertains you.’ He stepped up to England, grabbing his wrist and tugging him closer with one hand before bringing the other to rest on the small of his back.

‘What are you-‘

France swiftly kissed him silent, bringing his hand from England’s wrist to cup the nape of his neck and press his thumb gently into the bones. He felt England relax, the tension from his shoulders loosening as he gave into it and France let him have the moment unspoilt for a while. Then, before England could react, with the other hand France pulled him closer, pressing them closer together, before removing it suddenly.

Click.

With a noise of outrage, England bit him, hard, on the lip and France pulled away with a grin as England furiously brought his hand up to reveal a shiny new bracelet.

France laughed, stepping back quickly lest he hit him, ‘There, now I know you have done something recently to deserve that.’

England recovered the distance, hands clenched at his sides, ‘Yes, but mine was a fucking accident!’

France shrugged lightly, ‘Well, it’s a good thing you’re rather good at breaking out of them, isn’t it?’

England pressed his lips together so tightly they went white and France smirked at him, ‘I’m going to have a shower, you entertain yourself there for a moment with that and then we can go out for a drink.’

England sat down with a huff and picked up the now very abused hairpin, ‘You’re paying.’

‘Maybe.’

‘And we’re avoiding the place everyone else is going to.’

‘Oh certainly.’

----

AN:

I was going to write something soft and sweet, or something more serious with a bit of detail, but this came out instead. I’m not mad about it, but I do wish I were able to stick to some sort of plan.

It made me chuckle writing it, so I hope you all enjoy!

#fruk #hws england #hws france #aph england #aph france #hetalia #aph #hws #hetalia fanfiction #Arthur Kirkland #Francis Bonnefoy #my writing

[tsumusamu]

nice receive [miya atsumu x fem!reader]

genre: fluff and (once again, a sad attempt at) humor

word count: 3.8k

summary: eight months into your relationship, atsumu takes you to meet his family. things don't go as planned, but of course, everything ends up alright in the end anyway. alternatively, miya atsumu adores you and his family thinks it's easy to see why.

warnings: uhhh implied sexual content at the end but it is like barely there ok

commission for @ muppetz (it wont let me tag for some reason ugh) thank you so much for commissioning me!

a/n: this ended up being way longer than the word count requested but that’s no one’s fault but my own because i dont know when to shut the FUCK up anyways i hope this one shot is enjoyable lol

content under the cut!

You literally never thought that you would ever end up in this situation.

"C'mon babe, why the long face? Ya nervous or somethin'?"

"No." You purse your lips, huffily averting your gaze from your boyfriend's smirking face.

"Ya don't needa be like that." Atsumu drapes an arm across your shoulder, pecking your forehead as a sort of reassurance. "No one could ever hate this cute face, after all." He accentuates his words by squishing your cheeks, drawing out a yelp of protest from you.

"If you keep talking like this, you're gonna jinx it, you know." Your words come out softer and more hesitant than intended, and you startled even yourself at how utterly anxious you sound.

"Yer gonna be fine. Trust me, I wouldn’t take just any random girl to meet my folks, and they’re well aware of that." Atsumu ruffles your hair.

"I just... I hope they're not..." You pause for a moment, trying to find the right word. "...Disappointed?" You grimace when your boyfriend suddenly throws his head back in such voracious laughter, that you swear you saw a few hysterical tears.

"Are ya jokin'?" he all but wheezes. "Yer the libero for the national volleyball team, for God's sake. If anythin', I'd be the disappointment here."

"'Tsumu — " you start, but he interrupts you by pulling you in for a comforting hug.

"Don't worry yer pretty head anymore, got it?" he murmurs into your ear. "Yer wonderful, and I couldn't be luckier to have ya. My parents are gonna love ya. Honest."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you reach around his back to hug him back. "I hope so."

A year ago, if someone had told you that you would end up having Miya Atsumu introduce you to his family as his girlfriend, you would've laughed until your ass fell off and your stomach ached like no tomorrow.

You had been absolutely overjoyed when you were chosen for the women's national volleyball team, and you were so eager to start playing with your new teammates that you had decided to attend the national team's training camp without hesitation despite your recent knee injury at the time. However, you completely overlooked the fact that you would be working with the men's team as well, which would've been completely fine... if not for Miya Atsumu.

When you first met Atsumu, he was the cocky, annoying little shit of a setter for the Japanese men's national volleyball team, someone who you were stuck training with for the next two weeks.

You still remember the first words he ever spoke to you.

"The hell are ya doin' there, lil libero? If yer not gonna be able to save the easiest ones, then ya might as well sub out."

You also remember the first thought you had about him.

'Prick.'

And the first words you spoke to him.

"Can't you look at this — " You had gestured angrily to the knee brace supporting you. "And take a fucking hint, or what?"

He had sent some unapologetic, biting words right back at you and that marked the beginning of the time you have had the utmost pleasure of knowing Miya Atsumu. The two of you had bickered rather relentlessly (not too unlike literal children, despite the both of you being well into your twenties) throughout the rest of the camp, and by the end, for some unknown reason through some unknown method, he ended up with your number.

He started texting you constantly, and as much as you tried to convince your foolish self that he was just a nuisance, you found yourself responding to his messages like an idiot anyway. Throughout the next few months, you learned that Atsumu was far more than just his overly confident demeanor; he's genuinely kind-hearted, down-to-earth, and actually kinda hilarious. And eventually — neither of you quite knew how — the two of you were staring across a table at each other in a fancy restaurant as if daring the other to blink and lose an unspoken game, on a first date that neither of you thought would go as well as it did.

A little over eight months into your happy and committed relationship, Atsumu suggested that the two of you go to his hometown in Hyogo for a weekend to visit his family. You had immediately agreed with his idea, excited to meet his parents and twin brother in person, but now that he's leading you out of your shared hotel room to go do just that, your stomach's knotting uncomfortably.

Atsumu's been nothing but supportive and comforting ever since you started showing that you're nervous to meet his family. He was always happy to provide a never-ending flow of cheesy words and warm hugs, but you're genuinely afraid of embarrassing yourself. You want to impress his family and not have them see you as undeserving of their son, who you truly care for from the bottom of your heart. Atsumu is your first long-term boyfriend, and you would jump off your roof if you managed to mess anything up during the visit to his folks.

The taxi ride to Atsumu's childhood home doesn't do much to soothe your nerves either, with you fiddling with your fingers the entire way through while Atsumu makes small talk with the driver. As the cab pulls up to the address that your boyfriend had provided earlier, you instinctively clench your fists so hard that you think you might bleed.

A look of alarm crosses Atsumu's face as he notices that you're still just as anxious as you were when you left the hotel earlier. He thought that the ride to his parents' house would give you some time to cool down, but that had clearly not been the case. His eyebrows furrow in concern as he reaches over to grab one of your hands in his, giving you a comforting squeeze.

"Just breathe, darlin'." He runs his thumb over the shallow nail marks embedded in your skin. "If it means anything to ya, my mom's a huge fan of yers. For real. I didn't tell ya this before, but she's especially excited to meet ya. Keeps yappin' to me askin' how I pulled ya." You flush.

"R-Really?" you stammer, wide-eyed.

"Really. Who wouldn't be a fan yers?" Atsumu grins, pecking your nose. "See, ya got nothin' to be worried about. Just chill out and be yerself, 'kay?" You nod, some of the tension releasing from your shoulders as Atsumu leads you out of the cab, hand still clutching yours.

You're feeling a little better now, though your thoughts are still running through your head at the pace of a mile a minute as you watch Atsumu pay the taxi driver and thank him for the ride. Atsumu's mother is my fan? Your ears start to heat up. I hope I can somehow live up to her expectations of me…

“Ma! We’re here!” Atsumu shouts at the top of lungs approximately one second after simultaneously ringing the doorbell and obnoxiously pounding on the door.

“Comin’, comin’, ya brat!” A feminine, yet strong voice hollers in return. You freeze on the spot, your mind going blank once again. It’s happening. It’s finally happening.

The door aggressively swings open, revealing a middle-aged woman wearing a pink apron and carrying a wooden spatula in her hand. Her dark hair is pulled into a bun away from her face and her eyes, the same chocolate brown as Atsumu’s, are gleaming with annoyance. She briefly glares at Atsumu for his rowdy entrance before her gaze catches onto you, and her entire face lights up with excitement.

“(L/N) (Y/N)! It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“M-Mrs. Miya,” you stammer out, trying your best to smile but you’re sure it looked more like a wince. “It’s good to m-meet you t-too.”

"Aw, hey now. What happened to my feisty girl? It's not like ya to be so lame.” Atsumu lays his forearm on your head, effectively using you as an armrest. You jerk away, scowling.

“Shut the hell up, asshat,” you snap without thinking. About half a second later, regret slams into your body like a truck. Oh, shit. I just called my boyfriend an asshat in front of his mother. You were about to run off into the streets in utter embarrassment if not for Mrs. Miya letting out a hearty laugh way too similar to her son’s and linking arms with you.

“No need to look so scared, dear. I don’t bite. And it’s good to see that yer willin’ to put this brat in his place.”

“Ma!” Atsumu whines, pouting petulantly.

“Yer really losin’ out with him though, y’know,” Mrs. Miya whispers to you as she leads you into the house by your arm. “I’ve got another son; Atsumu’s twin. Osamu’s quite well-behaved. If yer just likin’ the looks, he would be the better option.” You can tell she’s joking by the merry twinkle in her eyes, but instead of humoring her you end up shaking your head with a quiet chuckle.

“I think Atsumu’s perfectly good for me.” The two of you pause to watch Atsumu practically sprint into the kitchen, and a few moments later there’s an agitated yell as proof that he was on his way to annoy his brother. You smile. “He makes me really happy, Mrs. Miya. You raised him well.”

“Aren’t ya just the sweetest thing?” Mrs. Miya coos at you, pinching your left cheek. “And so pretty too. I swear ya could probably clobber my brat at volleyball as well. You and yer teammate… ah, Miss Amanai? The two of you always caught my eye while I watched yer matches. Make sure ya let her know.”

You blush a little and thank her, making a mental note to tell Kanoka that. She’d probably find it extremely amusing, especially since she was the one who had given Atsumu your number in the first place (which, as you had found out months later, was because he had practically groveled at her feet multiple times. Dumbass.)

“Come meet my husband, (Y/N).” Mrs. Miya leads you into the living room, where an older, balding man with rimmed glasses is quietly flipping through a book. He gives a start upon hearing your entrance, clearing his throat and sitting up straight.

“Ah, hello!” Mr. Miya greets you. “I’ve heard a lot about you! From both Atsumu and the missus.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Miya.” You nod once in a respectful manner.

“It’s about time that he settled down with a nice girl. Make sure ya keep him in line though, got it, missy?”

“Of course I w — “ you start, but Mrs. Miya is already dragging you towards the kitchen. You smile apologetically at Mr. Miya, and he just laughs and waves.

“Osamu’s makin’ dinner right now. He is such a hardworkin’ and dedicated boy. Both of them are, really,” she rambles. “But Osamu sure can cook a mean meal. He and his twin always used to fight over who’s the better cook. But I betcha Atsumu hasn’t touched the stove since he left for university years ago.”

You debate telling her that Atsumu had made quite a decent meal for the two of you just last week to celebrate your eight-month anniversary (which you hadn’t even known he remembered), but before you can formulate the right words in your head you’re suddenly shoved in the path of an unfamiliar man. Well, not really unfamiliar. He has the same face as the boyfriend who you see every day, after all.

Miya Osamu is (as expected) the literal carbon copy of Atsumu; same strong eyebrows, same hooded eyes, same angular jawline. The only thing that easily sets them apart is his black, ruffled mess of hair in stark contrast with your boyfriend’s bleached blonde.

Mrs. Miya pulls Atsumu away from the two of you, demanding that he help her with some mundane task, leaving you and Osamu by yourselves in the kitchen.

An easy smile graces his lips as he sticks out his hand. “Hey, I’m Osamu. Honored to finally meet the famous (L/N) (Y/N).” You smile back, gripping his hand firmly and shaking.

“And I’m honored to meet the famous ‘Samu.” At your words, Osamu bursts out laughing.

“Man, I don’t really let a lot of people call me that, y’know? But if yer gonna be part of the family, you could be an exception.”

“F-Family?” You pause, your sudden confidence dissipating as fast as it had come.

“Naw, no pressure. Just sayin’.” Osamu casually continues with his task of shaping onigiri. “I can tell he really likes ya.” You raise your eyebrows in curiosity without entirely meaning to. “I mean, we’re twins, it’s like a sixth sense. And also he never shuts up about ya when we text or call.”

“I hope you’re hearing all good things?” you quip jokingly.

“Oh, for sure. If I didn’t know who you were I’d think that he’s talkin’ about the reincarnation of a goddess with the way he talks.”

“Seriously?” You snort, and Osamu just laughs.

“So I’d like to ask ya the favor of continuin’ to take care of him. Guy’s just a huge ass baby. I can obviously see that yer good for him, though. He wouldn’t have stayed for so long if he wasn’t serious.”

The two of you briefly glance at Atsumu helping his mother set the table. They’re currently debating over whether Atsumu should go back to his natural hair color and “Stop makin’ yer hair look like fuckin’ straw!”

“He is a huge ass baby,” you start seriously, causing Osamu to smirk. “But he’s an honest and good person, so I’m not too bothered. I’ll take care of him, promise.”

“Thanks.” Osamu sighs, glancing rather fondly in his brother’s direction. “He’s an asshole, but at least he’s a redeemable asshole. I’m glad he’s finally got someone around to take care of him. Makes us all feel a little more relieved since he’s away from home.”

You suddenly feel warm inside.

Atsumu had been right; you truly didn’t have anything to be afraid of. The Miyas have been nothing but kind and welcoming so far, and they even seem to already have a positive opinion of you.

“Can ya help me carry these to the table?” Osamu holds out a plate of freshly-made onigiri.

“Ah, sure!” you accept hurriedly, taking the plate from him with careful hands. You take slow, calculated steps towards the dining room; the last thing you want is to accidentally drop any of the food.

Atsumu and his parents are already waiting in the dining room, and they all look up at you expectantly as you approach them with the onigiri plate in hand.

“Why, thank you, dear!” Mrs. Miya chirps. “Helpin’ Osamu out! How sweet of ya — “

She’s cut off as disaster strikes.

You trip on your last step to the table, causing a single onigiri to tumble off the plate and towards the floor. Your mouth drops open wide as you practically slam the plate down on the table and in practical slow-motion, watch the onigiri plummet down, down, down —

Then you dive.

You dive towards the floor, in the same manner as you do when you’re digging for a volleyball.

And you catch the rice ball in one hand, laying flat on your stomach. You have a moment of mental celebration; yes, you caught the onigiri! Then you realize that you look like a fucking idiot as you lay face down with one hand extended and clutching a rice ball like it’s your lifeline.

There’s a few seconds of agonizing silence.

You want the earth to swallow you whole.

There’s no way that you could ever show your face in front of Atsumu’s family or even Atsumu himself now; God you’ve never been more embarrassed in your life, and over an onigiri too —

“Nice receive!” Atsumu suddenly bellows, clapping his hands boisterously. “(L/N) does it again!”

His brother, who’s standing a few feet behind you with a platter of chicken skewers, pumps his free fist into the air and joins in with a “Hell yeah!”

Mr. Miya starts laughing the same loud Miya laugh that you’ve heard way too many times today, and his sons soon follow suit. Shame is still flooding your body, but now you’re realizing just how ridiculous the whole situation is and you resist the urge to smile at your own stupidity. As soon as Mrs. Miya recovers from her initial surprise, she comes to help you up, and you can tell that she’s doing her best not to laugh as well.

“Are ya okay, dear?” she briefly inspects you for any sign of injury.

“All good here, Mrs. Miya.” You smile, genuinely and comfortably, as Atsumu comes behind you to wrap his arms around you and peck your cheek, still chuckling with a small note of pride. “All good.”

-

“See?” Atsumu’s smug as hell as the two of you enter the hotel elevator on your way up to your room. Osamu had dropped you off so there would be no need for another cab. “I told ya that they’d fuckin’ love ya.”

“Why’re you rubbing in something like this?” You scoff, dodging when he tries to pull you into a crushing hug.

“Because I was right.” He smirks. You roll your eyes to heaven.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being nervous! I still can’t believe that none of them got upset at me for diving for a rice ball at the dinner table.” You groan, hiding your face in your hands.

“Nah, why the hell would they? It was cool. Yer cool, Miss National Team Libero.” He laughs, reaching for you again and this time you let him bring you close to him. “Besides, like I said before, who could ever resist yer pretty lil face?”

“You’re a hopeless asshole.” You sigh, and Atsumu of course just chuckles, his laughter vibrating against your ear as you press yourself into his chest.

“I’m yer hopeless asshole.” He pecks the top of your head. “C’mon, babe. It’s our floor.”

You hadn’t realized how tired you are until the two of you enter your hotel room and you see the large, inviting bed. You practically jump onto it, burying your face into a pillow. “Goodnight…” you mumble sleepily.

“Ya gotta go shower and brush yer teeth first, idiot.” A pillow smacks you in the side of the head, and you leap up with a cry of surprise. “Damn, don’t be so loud, sweetheart. It’s late, y’know. Don’t wanna get a noise complaint like last night.” You turn bright red at the reminder.

“Shut u-up,” you retort. “I told you that we shouldn’t have tried to do it on the balcony.”

“It was fun, though, y’know! An experience. And ya sounded like you were enjoyin’ it, anyway.” He chucks another pillow at you, and you yelp as it nails you in the face. “Now get yer cute ass over here, we’re gonna shower.”

“You can’t make me.” You stubbornly lay back down and close your eyes, and you had peace for all but ten seconds before Atsumu’s plucking you off the bed and settling you into his arms bridal-style. Your eyes shoot open in shock and you flail desperately. “Put me down!”

“No can do. I’m not sleepin’ next to yer stinky self tonight, darlin’.” Atsumu laughs as you scowl.

“The floor’s always open for you,” you snap.

“Aw, yer no fun.” He steals a kiss from you in the blink of an eye; the only evidence of there being contact at all is a tingling feeling on your lips. You feel your heart melt just a little more.

“Fine. After we shower, we go straight to bed. Got it?”

“ And brush our teeth. Yer mornin’ breath is bad enough.” He lets out quite an unpleasant squawk when you smack him lightly in the shoulder. “Alright, sorry, sorry.”

“Is this just your excuse to see me naked?” you tease him as he sets you down on the bathroom counter before immediately removing his shirt to reveal his muscled torso. He grins wolfishly at you and shrugs.

“And if it is?” Atsumu’s eyes are zeroed in on the small hickey he had left right below your collarbone last night, which is now visible thanks to the way your shirt had rumpled after he had practically manhandled you into the bathroom.

“Well, I won’t complain.” You follow his gaze down to your neck, before glancing back up to meet his eyes and raise an eyebrow at him. “If you’re going to make it worth my time.”

About an hour later, the two of you are lying in bed together, effectively tuckered out and finally ready to sleep. Atsumu’s strong arms are wrapped tightly around you like a protective cocoon as you snuggle your face against his chest. The slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat rocks you towards dreamland, and all the worries from the past day are slipping away.

“Hey, ‘Tsumu,” you mumble against his chest. He grunts tiredly.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

There’s a small silence.

“...Thanks,” you finally say after a beat.

“Huh? For what?” he quips.

“For being patient with me today, even though I was so nervous. And for taking me to meet your family.” You crane your head to look up at him, contentment adorning your features. “I had a good time. I hope they don’t hate the idea of me coming around again sometime.”

Atsumu smiles that familiar smile, the smile filled with affection that others rarely get to see. His eyes are almost half-mooned with joy, his lips are curved up in genuine adoration, and his cheeks are flushed with color. You saw this smile for the first time when he set an incredibly low ball at training camp, earning the awe of everyone in the room, including yourself. Never did you think that you would ever have this expression of pure love aimed at you, nor did you think it would fill you with so much happiness every time you had the blessing of seeing it. He says nothing for a while, suddenly resorting to trailing kisses all over your face. You let him, closing your eyes peacefully as he showers you with his love, ending with one final peck to your nose.

“I'm sure they'd like to have you around again.”

And if Atsumu continues playing his cards right, he thinks there might be a possibility that in the next five or so years, you could truly become part of the family with a glittering ring on your finger.

Only time will tell if that possibility will ever come to fruition, but as you tilt your head up to give him one last kiss on the lips and whisper those three words to him, he knows for sure that he wants to continue building towards that future with you.

“I love you too.” He lets his eyes fall shut as well, before resting his chin atop your head and savoring the warmth of your body against his.

Only time will tell.

-

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#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #anime #manga #fluff #humor #hq atsumu #fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #inarizaki #hq #miya osamu

[pain-in-the-butler]

The time has come once again

The Bloodbath

“I’m simply one hell of a butler” says Sebastian as he starts cleaning as usual

Okay so Agni’s taking no prisoners

Work Nerd, Science Nerd, and Jock Nerd team up to form the Nerd Trifecta

Team One Brain Cell joins up with Phipps, who is quite possibly their only chance for survival

Ran-Mao remembers how Harcourt beat everyone in the unfortunately deleted round and said “Not in my backyard”

So far, everyone else has simply run away unscathed or grabbed a weapon they won’t use because the game doesn’t record weapons. Rip Tanaka

Day 1

Ran-Mao bringing the canon energy by adding a second weapon to her arsenal

Phipps somehow always turns into Team Dad during these, so I’m glad to see he’s finding time for his favorite hobbies

Undertaker up to his usual Sneaky Antics

It hasn’t even been twelve hours yet. Kind of impressive honestly

Considering Harcourt lost his mace, I’ll just assume the attack Grell “escaped” from was the vicious stabbing of his trim little schoolboy fingernails

Bad vibes

It appears that Lau also brought his canon game

Sebastian in the most recent chapters be like

I’ve actually never had this event come up before and it has to happen between two of the more innocent characters in the series;;;; god Lizzie you deserve better even in the Hunger Games Simulator

Where’s a Safety Nerd when you need one

What’s better than this? Guys bein dudes

This is probably what happened after Ciel left Weston

Sebastian will take care of this for ya, huh bud

Other events:

Agni practices his archery

Wolfram goes fishing

Othello finds a cave

Soma goes ‘splorin

Edward goes huntin

Day 1′s Deaths: Tanaka, Sieglinde, Lizzie, and Macmillan. Someday one of the ladies will win

Night 1

Butler slumber party in the woods, BYOYM (bring your own young master)

It takes a lot of energy to be this blond

I’m happy for her :)

Yeah I’ll bet you probably do Lau

A tonal shift so abrupt I got mental whiplash

Can we go back to when Grell was looking at the sky pls

Thought about science too hard. Got a concussion

Thought about Ciel dying too hard. Got an infection

Aww dad :( Hope you caught some fish tho

Looks like Harcourt won’t be winning this one, gang

I stg the hunger games simulator is misogynist because the ladies always DIE /j

Ran-Mao is hopefully here to prove the previous statement wrong

Other events:

Bard gets a hatchet

Undertaker also passes out from exhaustion

R!Ciel goes to sleep in a tree

Day 2

Oh you five are SO going in my burn book for this. It’s what Grell would’ve wanted

Ahaha just like in the real manga... right guys (;

Idk about you but I’m rooting for her

I don’t think the simulator could’ve picked four people who were less likely to team up than this

I would too if I saw my best friend was palling around with an opium dealer, a grim reaper with a lawn mower, and another grim reaper that the first grim reaper doesn’t like

Other events:

Othello chases Wolfram

That’s the only other event actually

That means today we lost O!Ciel, Mey-Rin, Harcourt, and Grell. ffs, I hope Ran-Mao kills all of you

Night 2

I’ve missed you, rare pair simulator

The “unknown sponsor” was Undertaker and the “fresh food” was O!Ciel

Confirmed: Lau doesn’t get high off his own supply

Once again a ceasefire between the strong hungry boys is formed

Girl, you don’t have to do that

“Did you kill Ciel?” Sebastian asks

“No that was William,” Othello says

Sebastian punches a tree so hard that it combusts. “God damn. Fuck” Sebastian says

Wolfram just realized I put him in the Hunger Games simulator

Other events:

Phipps thinks about “Are you winning son”

Undertaker gazes at space

Ronald becomes Lost Ronald

Soma passes out

Bard gets some water

Day 3

Damn Agni who haven’t you flirted with

Finny sees that Bard has water and thinks Bard cooked it himself, so he wants no part of that (might be burnt)

What did he even have that was worth stealing? A fish?

Well I can tell you who isn’t creating that smoke: Lau

“What’s worse than two young masters? No young masters. Now get over here and make a contract”

Everything about this sentence is a fever dream

Other events:

Undertaker decides he wants a slingy shot too

Edward chases Dad I mean Phipps

Othello gets some ouchies from picking berries

Night 3

When your young master dies, you just get an infection apparently

damn Finny’s playing hardball

I don’t think anything bad has actually happened to Bard yet. It’s just been a grand frolic the whole time

I barely remember reading the first Hunger Games but Ran-Mao’s the Foxface of this journey: she deserves to win and I just know she’ll die in the stupidest way possible

Sebastian’s like a cat that can’t reach the bird it wants to attack, so it attacks the nearest other thing instead. Poor Dad

Two white-haired anime boys and a not-white-haired anime boy talk about who will die tomorrow. Anime doesn’t exist yet so the white-haired anime boys don’t know their hair color automatically spells their doom

Other events:

Edward starts a fire, which means he’s capable of smoking opium

Ronald gets some medical supplies

Othello gets a hatchet

R!Ciel thinks about winning

Lau gets an entire explosive, but he won’t be able to light it, so no it’s no big deal

Day 4

In Soviet Hunger Games, white-haired anime boy kills you

But why murder someone when you could just mess with them

Other events:

Grey scares Bard

Finny goes hunting

Night 4

Have you four even killed anyone yet

The list of “people who didn’t start the manor fire and also don’t smoke opium” now consists of Lau and R!Ciel

The mood is too light now. Someone needs to die and it better not be Ran-Mao

At last, Father Phipps has chosen his son for this round

Agni gushes about all the hot guys he’s simultaneously in love with, giving Ran-Mao a clearer idea of who’s still alive

Day 5

Girl, it’s about time, go claim some trophies

Finny’s easily got the longest kill streak and it’s a little unnerving

Father Phipps finds a new secret fishing hole

Othello doesn’t

Lau continues to put in all the efforts of a kindergarten bully

Oh no. He’s a yandere

Other events:

Sebastian fucks around and explores the arena

Bard fucks around and hunts for tributes

Undertaker fucks around and sleeps

R!Ciel fucks around and picks flowers

Night 5

I’ve never met anyone who ships Sebastian/Undertaker but I know you’re out there

Okay, maybe these four are even less likely to team up than Phipps, Ronald, Undertaker, and Lau

Edward sees I’m making jokes about people who build fires and stays hidden

Day 6

Canonically, that is the only way R!Ciel would win a fight, so

I probably could have predicted this

I hope these are the faces they made when it happened

The “unknown sponsor” is R!Ciel and the “fresh food” is an ear that fell off his own head

I’m not sure if I should be concerned or unsurprised that Bard’s Hunger Games life is more chill than his canon life

the “unknown sponsor” was the fish and the “clean water” was “fish water”

Other events:

Ran-Mao gets her third weapon that she doesn’t want to use, which is a hatchet

Finny finds a river

Agni practices archery again, but he doesn’t kill anyone because he wants this to go on forever

Night 6

Ran-Mao I beg you please. Release us from this purgatory of mediocrity

And suddenly we’re back to canon Bard

I guess not everything can be canon

Other events:

Both Agni and Phipps pass out from exhaustion. It’s 2:50 a.m. so I should really be taking a page from their book, but unfortunately everyone refuses to die

The Feast

Finny has been a stone cold killer this entire match, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that the girl I wanted to win would get eliminated by him, but it still hurts ✌️😔

If you cheat on Othello, he will overpower you, killing you

Everyone else decided not to go to the Feast. Honestly, I don’t remember what the Feast is, but everyone who did go either murdered someone or got murdered, so I guess that was probably a good call

Day 7

I’ve had enough of this dude

Jesus Finny I can’t wait to see how many kills you got, I feel like you and Agni were the only two who took anyone down

Bard, Undertaker, Sebastian, and Phipps all hunt for other tributes but they’re useless and don’t kill anyone

Arena Event: Volcano Eruption

In one fell swoop, we lose Sebastian, Undertaker, R!Ciel, and Finny, jeez. But... that means it comes down to.............

FATHER PHIPPS VS. BARD

FATHER PHIPPS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wow... Unlike his manga counterpart, this boy coasted the whole time and won... He basically went on vacation and he actually won... But then again, it’s Hunger Games Simulator and nothing is sacred

Well I hope you learned a valuable lesson today. I hope you did at some point before you read my post, because you sure as hell learned nothing from this. Thank you for wasting precious minutes of your life with me 😏

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji hunger games simulator

[unknown-writing]

Let’s face it. You despise being a Celestial Dragon. You find them absolutely deplorable and want /nothing/ to do with the lot of ‘em.

You’ve seen how they treat other people and fishmen alike. It disgusts you the levels of inhuman actions they’ve done towards the innocent just because the world government /ASSUMES/ they’re the ones that came from God or whatever the fuck.

So...You ran away. You stole some cash, took some of your stuff, and then ran to the open sea. The sea where it held nothing but lowly pirates and Marine forces fighting for a twisted version of what they call “Justice.” You left a note stating that you had “died” in an “accident by falling out of your window”, using ketchup as blood stains to make sure that somebody would just believe you.

After setting all of your slaves free the night before, you knew the only sense of freedom you had left was at sea. After all, setting your slaves free like that would be taken as treason against the Celestial Dragons, and you refused to give them that kind of power over your head just because you had better morals than them.

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

Warning(s): Mentions of abuse, slavery, Celestial Dragons, angst A/N: Yet another purely self indulgent fanfiction reaction of the Monster Trio, also, sorry, it got a bit angsty for Sanji’s part lmao ^^;

Luffy has had bad experience with Celestial Dragons. He absolutely despises them. And when he hates somebody that much, he never wants to see them again. Unless it’s of course, to kill them.

Hearing your past shocked him to his core. You had kept it a secret for over a year now for the sake of your own safety, but being Luffy’s boyfriend was beginning to be harder and harder, especially since he’s friends with a Fishman. You /had/ to tell him the truth, no matter how scared you were of his reaction towards it, fearing that he may dump you and toss you overboard because of his hate towards your kind.

A brief silence filled the room that you two had been in, discussing your past and why you ran from home, and why there was suddenly a news report of you “Being Dead” in the latest newspaper. He had demanded some answers from you. You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck in awkwardness and gulped, “So....I ran.” 

“I ran away from that place...I couldn’t stand being part of their kind. Seeing them hurt innocent people and fishmen alike just because of their “Social Status” grossed me out so bad that I faked my own death, and ran to the sea.” Using your fingers to create quotation marks with them, your arms fell down to your lap as yet another awkward silence filled the captains room, you hated that he was quiet.

“So...You ran away because you dislike the Celestial Dragons?” He commented, holding the piece of paper that had your face on it, only to then tear it to pieces a few moments later. You saw the pieces fall on the bed, somewhat stunned by what just happened. “Then that version of you is dead!” He simply says with the biggest grin you’ve seen from him. “You’re new name is y/n, and you’re a pirate! And you’re my girlfriend too!” He says cheerfully, pulling you into a tight but gentle hug. You couldn’t help but start to cry of relief, knowing that the captain of the Straw Hats wouldn’t judge you for your past despite his hate towards your kind.

Standing in an area on some Island, you stood awkwardly staring up at the green haired man. Despite the thin air, it seemed like he didn’t give two fucks about what was happening. He just stared down at you for a while, almost like he was judging you for your past, you could sense it too.

He lets out a sigh, a hand reached to your head and he patted it gently, “You’re no longer a Celestial Dragon right?” He asks, still petting your head, “No! Absolutely not! I ran away and faked my own death for a reason!” You responded quickly, feeling your anxiety start to get worse as time goes by almost at a slow pace. “Then it doesn’t matter who you /used to be/. You’re better than them. You freed all of your slaves the night before, and then ran the day after. The fact that you did that just proves to me that you’re one to be trusted.” He says then let’s go of your head and then grins

“Besides....If I felt like you were a threat, you would’ve been dead before Luffy accepted you into the crew.” He admits while rubbing his head. He was right though, he would’ve killed you if he’d sense you where a bad person to be around...A soft smile started to form on your face, you ran up to him and hugged him tightly, burying your face into his body as you felt a weight was lifted off of your shoulders. Zoro only stood there, allowing you to hug him

Much like Luffy, Sanji is disgusted by Celestial Dragons. Even more so coming from a family of Maids and Butlers, as well as slaves to do their work for them as they sat in the lap of luxury.

So, hearing that his darling s/o was born from their kind, made his stomach churn in pure disgust. You could tell by the look on his face that he was disgusted about your heritage, finding out about how you were raised to believe that your family was somehow the ones that “created this world.” But, what he was most disgusted by, was how your parents treated you, despite the fact that you where also a Celestial Dragon...YOU where abused too! Now it all made sense to him.

It made sense why you can barely handle being touched without jumping, or why it looks like your scared at somebody slightly raising their voice towards your general direction. How you flinch whenever you hear somebody bang a wall or surface. How you bite your lip when somebody asks for your honest opinion...All of it started to click into place in his head...It had hurt him to hear the news so abruptly that he left the room to cool his head off and have a smoke or two.

Watching his back leaving the room made you start to panic. You’re heart sank to the pits of your stomach as the door slammed shut in front of you...Even though you had mentioned that you had ran away and faked your own death to become a Pirate, seeing this reaction hurt you the most.

So....You broke down. You broke down and started to softly sob, as it became a habit to hide your crying due to your past. You knew that this would happen...But seeing it happen in front of you right now, it still hurt regardless if you “mentally prepared yourself for it.” All you could do was just sit there and cry. You had cried for what probably seemed like for a few hours.

With how drained you where from crying, you had fallen asleep on your bed, falling to your pillow after the first 45 minutes of sobbing. You didn’t hear the door being knocked on, “Y/n san?...” Sanji spoke out in a more calmer tone of voice. He opened the door to see that you had fallen asleep...Guilt hit his stomach like a two ton truck, “Oh no...Don’t tell me...” he thought as he gently placed the tray of food for the both of you to enjoy together to forget about what had happened and make amends for it.

        He leaned over the bed gently to see that you had cried so much that your eyes were red and puffy, he could see some kind of a shine on your cheeks that could only resemble the shine of tears. “This was my fault...” he thought to himself as he tired fixing your sleeping position so that way it wouldn’t hurt you so bad the next morning, only to get an idea to have you sleep on his chest instead to cuddle you throughout the night.

“I’m so sorry y/n...” He would repeat until he himself had fallen asleep, and the two of you had peacefully slept with each other that night, you had never felt safer asleep than you where with Sanji.

#luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #tw// abuse #tw// angst #one piece x reader #monster trio

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

/rp

tw: physical and mental abuse, torture, drowning, broken bones, body image issues, horror, manipulation, kidnapping, implied gaslighting and stalking, referenced human experimentation, disassociation, obsession, and possessive behaviour

The only illumination in the forest was the silver of the full moon, it’s light streaming gently through the autumn leaves. The only sound was the quiet rustling of leaves in the breeze, the soft footsteps of passing animals. It was… peaceful. Serene. One might not expect it to be one of TommyInnit's favourite places, but it was far away enough from the rest of the server that he felt safe, quiet enough that he’d be able to hear any intruders.

He’d barely been able to sleep lately, ever since he'd heard those sirens, barely been able to leave his house. But it’s not a Big Man thing to hide in the house, trembling in fear like a fucking pussy. He’s not sure what in his sleep deprived mind possessed him to try and get over it by spending the night in a surely monster-infested at this time of night forest, but fuck it. He was always right, anyway, there was a reason people called him Tommy Trusty, or more accurately why he and only he called himself Tommy Trusty.

(No, it had nothing to to do with the fact he was going half mad back in the embassy, losing everything and finding it just when he was about to give up, always hearing noises in the walls Tubbo and Ranboo insisted were just the pipeworks, occasionally seeings the flash of a figure in the corner of his eyes. He’d torn the entire hill apart and found no evidence of anything, but as soon as he rebuilt it started up again.)

He just about jumped out of his skin hearing the pinging of his communicator. His laughter when he realised it was just the communicator definitely wasn’t forced, though, he definitely wasn’t shaking when he opened it up, because he wasn’t a fucking bitch baby. Probably just Tubbo or Ranboo being too damn clingy, or Wilbur asking why the fuck he’s a grandfather or something, right?

His eyes widened when he read the message on his screen. The communicator fell to the floor as Tommy scrambled desperately into the trees, words still repeating in his head over and over.

Dream: Run :)

——

It could have been minutes or hours of blind running through the trees in sheer panic before he dared to take a seconds break, doubling over against a tall oak, panting. He wasn’t even sure if he’d gotten anywhere, or just ran in circles, and he wasn’t even sure if it mattered. It was Dream, he did this shit for a living. Tommy was a dead man walking. Was it even worth it running to just prolong it, instead of just sitting still and waiting to die?

A strange sound came from his mouth, a warbling combination of crying and laughter. It forced it's way from his chest, loud and painful and making him break into fits of coughing, barely holding onto the bark to keep himself upright. Prime, was he already going insane? The sun hadn’t even rose yet, and he was already barely standing on shakey legs, laughing and crying into the void.

The void laughed back.

Tommy barely had a second to react before he felt the harsh bite of the axe into his shoulder, and was pinned to the tree like a butterfly to a board, forced to stare face to face with his hunter.

Dream's mask was askew, his eyes manic (no, he realised, his eye, a sickening feeling grasping his stomach as it dawned on him one had been ripped out, leaving an empty, scarred socket). His mouth was twisted into a grin, half as manic as his eyes but half eerily familiar, reminding him of the look on Wilbur's face when they’d first met again after the two of them had moved to the SMP.

After too-long and not-long-enough, Dream yanked back the axe, causing Tommy to crumple to the floor as a new wave of pain emanated through his body. He struggled for breath, not even enough energy to scream, and barely even notice the hand ruffling through his hair brotherly.

Claws grasped tightly around his hair after a moment, yanking him back up onto his feet. He barely avoided falling back onto his knees after Dream let go, as he shakily ran as fast as he could, deeper into the forest, ignoring the eyes bored in on his every move, the wheezing laughed echoing off the trees, the sinking feeling that this too was just another part of the game.

——

Tommy took shakey breaths, curling in on himself and trying to be as quiet as possible, small as possible. He instinctively raised his hand to his shoulder for what must have been for the thousandth time. It’s still surprising when he doesn’t feel it slick with blood, just cold like marble, like a corpse.

(He really was just a dead body forced to keep walking around, wasn’t he? He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror anymore, and the confirmation it wasn’t just skin deep felt almost as sickening as the agonising pain going from his shoulder all the way down to his fingers as they lay limp and unresponsive.)

“Come 'ere, Tommy!” Dream said to himself with a clear smile in his voice. God, Tommy sweared he hadn’t shut up since he’d first found him, and he still jumped whenever he heard it. He’d collapsed into the bushes the second he’d had a moment of silence, but that couldn’t just fucking last, could it? “I know you’re here, Tommy. Come on, stop hiding,” he said, voice filled with the same condescension one would have talking to a child or a frightened animal. “I don’t want to have to burn down the forest, but I will if I have to.”

Tommy's eyes darted, frightened, through the greenery. He’d had the luck to manage to collapse away from the thorny berry bushes that surrounded him, but he’d have to crawl through them to escape. He couldn’t find it within himself to care, anyway. He was already aching everywhere, and he’d caught one of his trouser legs on a branch, ripping it awfully and letting his leg get stung over and over by nettles until it was red and inflamed. It was already his bad leg, the one that always hung a bit limp after he broke it in the Final Control Room, but mixed with what must have been hours of running from the muted sunset colours painting the plants around him and a few rough trips he wasn’t sure he could even walk anymore.

Still, he couldn’t just sit and wait to burn to death, so when he heard the sound of a spark he desperately crawled through the brambles, clawing through with one good arm and leg, scrambling as fast as he could to try and somehow get a lead. He heard Dream's fucking obnoxious tea-kettle laugh, and grit his teeth as he heard the sound of claws against dirt grow closer.

Tommy tried his best to keep quiet as the thorns dug into his skin, as he had to use his remaining working hand to pull them out as they embedded themselves in his skin. Something other than the gnawing terror grew in his chest, something warm, as he slowly, far too painfully slowly, clawed his way closer and closer to the clear ground, felt the ground turn muddier and more and more of a slog to drag himself through. He could hear the flowing water of a river up ahead, and ridiculously his first thought is relief he can finally get off the dirt and grime uncomfortably coating every inch of him.

He breathed a sigh of relief, the first in who knows how long, as he finally, finally, managed to crawl out of the foliage, clawing his hand onto the clearing. He felt a sense of relief, of finally being free from the awful feeling of the thorns tearing through his clothes and sinking into his flesh. He wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was hope, but it was the closest he could ever remember to it.

Whatever it was, Tommy quickly felt it die as something heavy came down on his hand, the feeling of his bones being crushed underneath him sending a new wave of nausea through his body, leaving him gagging, not enough in him to even be sick.

Dream pulled him into the air by the scruff of his neck, and Tommy didn’t even have the energy to fight back anymore. He just let himself hang limply from Dream's grip, eyes focused on nothing in particular as his hunter laughed and laughed and laughed hysterically.

“Oh, Prime- Tommy, you should have seen the look on your face!” Dream said in between breaths, wiping an inky black tear from his eyes. “That’s the best part of the hunt, y’know? Watching your enemies hope leave their eyes once they’re reminded who they’re dealing with. Once they know who really holds the power- well, there wasn’t really any question here, but you’re so stubborn, anyway. And all I had to do was strike a match.”

Dream forced Tommy to look at the plants behind him, completely healthy and unburnt. “I didn’t even have to set anything alight, I just had to make you think I did. It’s so easy! You never think ahead, do you, Tommy? When the fear gets to you, there’s nothing different from you and a wild animal. And wild animals can be tamed.”

“Fu-fuck off,” Tommy forced through gagging. “I’m not like- like a fucking wolf, I'm not a pet. I'd rather die.”

Tommy was pretty sure Dream was rolling his eye. “Well, if I have to do both, there’s nothing stopping me. No one knows where we are. I’ve not seen anyone else even come here but you. Even if they go looking for you, they’ll never find us, Tommy. We've got an eternity.”

“Even if? Shut up, prick. I know they’re looking for me. Tubbo's looking for me. Ranboo's looking for me. Wil- Wilbur, he has to be looking for me.” Tommy insisted.

Dream’s face softened into the false concern that pissed off Tommy more than anything. “Wilbur? Why would Wilbur be looking for you? He left you behind with just a forgetful ghost, remember? And Tubbo? Tubbo exiled you once before, what makes you think he’s gonna care now you’re gone again? Did he even try to free you when you were stuck in the prison? Did Ranboo?”

“I-“ Thinking of it, Tommy wasn’t sure if they had. They’d just got married, adopted a kid, and tried to forget about him. He wasn’t going to fucking listen to Dream, though, so he growled, half feral. “Shut up. Just kill me and get it over with, dickhead.”

Dream burst into the wheezing laughter again. “I’m not going to kill you, Tommy. Not here, not now. That’d be far too boring. I'm going to keep going up until you can’t, anymore, and then I'll take you home- to our home, I built it specifically with you in mind, and then maybe we'll get started on the experiments.”

That brought back old memories that Tommy had hoped were gone, tubes and agonising injections and scalpels and being cut open alive again and again. “I’m not being a fucking labrat again.” Tommy said, swallowing and trying to hide the shakiness of his voice.

“You don’t have a choice,” Dream said, sounding far too cheerful about that fact. He carelessly dropped Tommy back to the ground, onto his knees. He ran a hand through Tommy's hair like he was stroking a fucking dog, and Tommy hated how he automatically leant into it, some animalistic, raw sound bubbling from his throat as Dream continued. “Don’t worry, Tommy, I'll take care of you. It’s not like I’m going to lock you in a cage and ignore you or anything. You’re far too fun for that.”

Tommy looked at the ground, trying to hide the fact he could feel his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. How much had he told Dream about everything, during exi- during Logsted- during the “E” times? He yelped as Dream roughly forced his chin up with his claws, digging in harsher than the thorns. Tommy did his very best to avoid looking him in the eyes as he felt his gaze.

“Tommy. Look at me.”

“No,” he said without thinking. By the time he realised what he said, before he could even open his mouth he was being dragged by his hair. The pain was almost as bad as his hand, as he was unable to even try and take the weight onto anything but the chunkful of hair Dream had a vice grip on. Tommy bit his tongue, trying his best not to scream.

He didn’t even realise what was going on until his head was shoved under the freezing water. He took a lungful of water in with a breath, desperately flailing with what strength he had left with what limbs he could move. The cold stung at his eyes, his skin, feeling like a thousand needles stuck through every nerve on his head, and he couldn’t stop himself from hyperventilating, taking in more and more water until suddenly he just felt too tired to move, too calm to care, and his head was suddenly yanked back out into the air.

He coughed up water, taking in a few breaths, and before he could fully comprehend what was going on he was under the water again, burning his lungs and making him want to peel his skin off. He wasn’t sure how many of the horrible, repetitive cycles he went through of the drowning, under until he felt like he was going to drown, then up for a few precious breaths only to be forced back into the water again. The worst part was that he couldn’t help thinking, well, this is better than the salt water, better than the exile.

Finally, after what feels like hours he's pulled back onto the bank, curling up in on himself and gagging up mouthfuls of water. He closed his eyes and saw Log- saw the beach, opened them and saw the forest, until they started to blur together, mud and tents and fresh and salt water mixing into one.

He painfully forced himself up on one elbow after finally he didn’t feel like he was going to vomit up any more water, and he heard Dream hum. “So you can still crawl, hmm? I‘ll give you a ten minutes head start, and you better have moved by the times up.”

“But-“

“I told you, this ends when you can’t keep going anymore. Not when you won’t.” Tommy flinched away from the sternness of the voice, expecting another blow. “Maybe I'd have given you some pity, if you hadn’t defied me. Unless you liked it under the river, I’d suggest you obey.”

Tommy didn’t need to be told twice.

——

Tommy had barely managed to crawl from the river, behind a boulder, when he collapsed completely.

He couldn’t move anymore, could barely blink. It was still sunrise, the last of the stars having disappeared. The colours were pretty.

Prime, he was tired.

He felt back like when he was little, and Philza had just taken Tubbo in, and he’d stayed up all night comforting him after he’d had a nightmare, and he was so tired he’d started seeing shit, yet feeling like he couldn’t sleep yet, he needed to stay awake.

He’d never see Tubbo again. He thought he’d feel sad about that, but he just felt resigned. Sadness required energy he didn’t have.

All he could really focus on was the feeling of the breeze against his skin, the heavy feeling against his chest as he focused on breathing, in, out, in, out, the burning in his throat and his shoulder and his hand. They felt like the only things real anymore, everything else a dull snapshot that felt so distant, so far away.

He knew he should panic when he heard the sound of claws tapping on the ground, words that blurred into one big mess, but he couldn’t. He just felt tired, frozen.

He’d heard, once, that when deers stand in the headlights of an upcoming car they freeze instead of running or fighting. Tommy thought that was stupid back then. Now, dimly, it made sense. Staying still was just so much easier, and sometimes all you could do was conserve your energy.

He wanted to just close his eyes, to sleep, but something at the back of his mind screamed at him that Dream wouldn’t like it.

He feels a hand ruffle through his hair before he sees him, and for a second he thinks of Wilbur, back when Tommy was very little. He used to have nightmares back then, and he’d cry all night and wake up Wilbur and Wilbur would tell him made up stories about grand nations and heroes with cocky grins and electric blue eyes with cool brothers that wrote songs and loved the ocean.

Wilbur wasn’t here, though. It was just Tommy and Dream. Just Tommy and Dream now and forever.

“‘M tired,” he whined, leaning into Dream's touch automatically. Dream laughed.

“You must be. C'mon, let’s go home.”

Tommy didn't resist as Dream picked him up effortlessly, slung over his shoulder like a hunters prize catch. It hurt his shoulder, and he bit his tongue, vaguely remembering he didn't like showing weakness. He felt like more of a placeholder in Tommy's shell, like Tommy had fallen asleep awake and he was the replacement.

He tried to focus on Dream. Focus on something but the static of tiredness clouding his head. Being like that felt dangerous, like something he wasn’t allowed to do. But Dream was there, physically there, and Tommy focused on the feeling of his bony shoulder, the sharp claws gently holding him steady, the feeling of hair brushing against the tattered remains of his hoodie.

“Y'know,” Dream said, more to himself than to Tommy, “I've got materials for some regen potions back home. With them, your hand could be able to heal in a few weeks, and then we can do this all over again. That'd be nice.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no.”

“'T wouldn’t be fun. I don’t wanna do this ever again.”

Dream laughed to himself slightly. “I wasn’t asking. Not everything is about you, Tommy. Now, go to sleep. I want you aware when I show you our new home.”

“'Mkay.”

Dream laughed again. “You'll really do anything I say like this, won't you?”

Tommy shook his head, ignoring how dizzy it made him. “Nah, 'm just… tired.” he said, finishing with a yawn, making Dream laugh again. That was good, he thought. It was just him and Dream, right? They just had each other, now, they should try and help each other.

Tommy knew he should have been frightened, he should have been fucking terrified, but all he could think of drifting off to sleep was that he just hoped tomorrow would be less exhausting.

#my writing #dsmp writing #dream smp writing #primeboys (derogatory) #tw abuse #tw torture #tw Drowning #tw body image issues #tw broken bones #tw horror #tw manipulation #tw kidnapping #tw implied gaslighting #tw implied stalking #Tw human experimentation mention #Tw disassociation #tw obsession #tw possessive behavioir

[red-talisman]

An unbetaed snippet of post-CQL canon Yunmeng reconciliation, which is mostly extremely morbid and blunt conversation after beating each other hard enough that they’re too tired for their usual conflicting modes of emotional avoidance.

EDIT: now edited and posted on AO3. :D

CW for past suicidal ideation. Part of my “let WWX express some of his cynical humor and creepiness more often” and “let WWX find out about JC’s own sacrifice goddamnit” agendas.

___________________

Jiang Cheng stares blankly into the trees, their trunks slowly disappearing in the deepening darkness of twilight. Wei Wuxian’s back is warm against his and heaving for breath just as heavily. He thinks his ankle might be broken, but Wei Wuxian is probably worse off.

“You’re an asshole,” Wei Wuxian says thickly.

“Hypocrite,” Jiang Cheng mutters without heat, and Wei Wuxian manages a snort between his gasps.

“Yeah.” After a moment, he adds, with an echo of the old Yiling Laozu in his voice, “You know that if you ever do something like that again, I’ll probably find a way to do something worse than I did before.”

“If I do what, save your life by pulling the same fucking sacrificial shit that you do?”

“I swear to every god out there that I will bring you back as a fierce corpse and kill you myself,” Wei Wuxian says in a pleasant, albeit still somewhat breathless, tone. “I will dismember your carcass and make Jin Guangyao look like a fucking amateur.”

“Good thing Mo Xuanyu’s core isn’t worth shit, then,” Jiang Cheng replies. All of his attention is focused on the feeling of his brother’s bones and muscles moving against his own spine.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause. Somewhere distant Jiang Cheng hears the panicked yells of what’s probably the juniors they left behind a few li back. Then Wei Wuxian sighs. “We’re really fucked up.”

Jiang Cheng takes his time considering and discarding several possible responses. His ankle hurts like a bitch; Mo Xuanyu’s core may not be worth shit, but damn if his asshole genius brother hasn’t figured out how to make the most of it anyway. He finally settles on a tired, “Yeah.”

The silence stretches on long enough that Wei Wuxian goes on, more quietly, “You and Shijie are the only reason I didn’t die in the Burial Mounds. The Wens grabbed me before I knew whether or not you’d even survived the core transfer.”

Jiang Cheng tilts his head just enough to glance briefly over his shoulder. “How did you survive the Burial Mounds?”

“Nope, no, I’m not putting that on you. Not even Lan Zhan knows. I can’t...I can’t do that.”

“Fine. Then tell me, is any of it going to come back and bite us in the ass at the worst possible moment?” he asks dryly.

Wei Wuxian snorts, humorless. “Nah. It’s all mine.”

“Would you tell me if it wasn’t?”

When Wei Wuxian hesitates for a few telling seconds, Jiang Cheng mutters, “You fucking asshole.”

“Yeah.” Wei Wuxian sighs again.

“You left me.”

“You didn’t need me.”

“Who the fuck said that?”

The knobs of Wei Wuxian’s spine are starting to press painfully into Jiang Cheng’s. Wei Wuxian snorts. “I was practically a fierce corpse myself when I dragged myself out of the Burial Mounds. Your position as sect leader was too precarious,” he says bluntly. “You were seventeen years old with no real family, a sister who was getting married off anyway, and an adopted brother who’d been controversial years before the war even happened and who was clearly half-mad and getting worse. And I...my mind never really left the Mounds, honestly.” He coughs, makes a wet sound, and spits. “If I stayed much longer I was going to end up dragging you back into Hell with me. I was a risk you couldn’t afford and I wasn’t going to destroy Yunmeng Jiang a second time.”

"Don’t pull that bullshit, Wei Wuxian.” Jiang Cheng is so, so tired. “Mother was wrong. You know Wen Chao was looking for any excuse. You’re as responsible for that as our shidi was for using a round kite.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t respond. Jiang Cheng makes a mental note to beat that nonsense out of him in the future, when he can lift his arms again and his ankle isn’t most likely broken.

But Jiang Cheng remembers what it was like to try turning weapons, human and sword alike, into tools of peace. There are still whole weeks of the Sunshot Campaign that are just smears of sense-memory: the cacophony of screams and curses; the reek of mass funeral pyres and the soft ash drifting through the air like black, silent snow; the startling warmth of being suddenly drenched in blood after Sandu sliced open another living human. Half the time he’d come back to himself laughing hysterically, unable to see anything through the tears on his face, and as the war dragged on, the tears eventually dried up. It had taken months afterwards to settle into the mindset of rebuilding for Lotus Pier. (If he’s honest with himself, he never really did settle there. There's always a part of him still dragging itself through mud made by blood spilled on battlefields and churned up by soldiers' boots.)

“Jin Ling’s the only reason I never actually killed myself after you died,” Jiang Cheng says. “...Don’t you ever tell him that.”

“Wait, what?” Wei Wuxian snaps.

“You saying I would’ve died without a core - it was never about not having a core, you idiot, not really.” Not to say that hadn’t hurt, and Jiang Cheng really doesn’t know how he would’ve managed life as a commoner. But there were still worse things to lose than a core, which had also just lost and was about to lose yet again. “I had a few ideas on how to do it, depending on where I was and what was available when I decided I might as well get it over with.” He huffs a brief laugh and idly rubs his thumb over Sandu’s hilt. “I thought poison might be a good option, if a little heavy-handed on the metaphor.”

“I’d be laughing,” Wei Wuxian says flatly, “if you weren’t talking about killing my little brother.”

“Am I?”

“You never stopped.”

The silhouettes of the trees start to blur in Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “You left. You left, and everyone died, and somehow I was responsible for keeping our sister’s baby alive while the wolves tried to eat what remained of our sect from every direction. You left.”

“I never wanted to.”

“But you did.”

“Because I didn’t see any other way to keep you safe.”

“Because you chose strangers over family.”

“Because I didn’t see any other way to keep you safe,” Wei Wuxian hisses. Apparently they’re not so exhausted that they can’t get pissed after all. “I was hardly human anymore, Jiang Cheng. If I was going to die, then at least I’d die actually managing to save innocent people this time around and you would be safe from me.”

“I never wanted you to do that for me!”

“And I never wanted you to do that for me!”

The tension that had them both struggling to sit up straight suddenly breaks, and their backs collide again. Jiang Cheng grits his teeth against the urge to groan over the pain that ricochets through his chest and down his limbs. He hears a muffled yelp from behind him.

“You’re a damned fucking asshole and you’re my fucking brother and I hate you and don’t you ever assume you know what I need again, do you understand me,” snarls Jiang Cheng.

“You’re the damned fucking asshole and if you ever do that again then I will brand a reminder into your flesh right over the scar from the discipline whip,” Wei Wuxian snaps back, because he's never held back from fighting dirty if he thought it necessary.

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

They both stare into the dark forest, in opposite directions. It sounds like the juniors have finally picked up their tracks. Useless, the whole lot - Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian hadn't exactly been subtle in stepping aside for a private conversation that inevitably escalated, how could it take the kids this long?

"Those dumbasses had better not forget that we're on a night-hunt," he says.

"Like we did?" Wei Wuxian replies.

"You started it."

"Did not."

"No, I'm not doing this with you."

"Hey, you started this one."

"Shut the fuck up."

They fall silent again. A cold breeze picks up and Jiang Cheng feels Wei Wuxian shiver, pressing back just a little more firmly against Jiang Cheng for warmth, and he...leans back too. Just a little.

"I'm still fucking pissed at you," says Wei Wuxian.

"And I've got years' worth to pay you back for," says Jiang Cheng.

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Sect Leader Jiang!" they hear. "Senior Wei!"

"If you don't show up for the mid-autumn festival," Jiang Cheng suddenly says, "I'll come drag you out of the Cloud Recesses by the heels."

"But the dogs - "

"Don't be an idiot. Jin Ling's dog is the only one allowed in Lotus Pier, you know that."

Well, come to think of it, Wei Wuxian probably doesn't know that, but whatever, now he does. Wei Wuxian is terrifyingly silent, but before Jiang Cheng can say something that will inevitably bring them back to throwing fists, he hears a quiet, "Yeah, okay."

"Do you think they killed each other?" they hear Lan Jingyi asking loudly. "I mean, Sandu Shengshou versus the Yiling Patriarch - who would win?"

"Don't be an idiot," retorts Jin Ling, and Wei Wuxian's body briefly shakes with a laugh. "My uncle, obviously."

"They're both your uncle, idiot!"

Jiang Cheng just sighs and lets his head fall back against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

#jiang cheng #wei wuxian #yunmeng bros #yunmeng reconciliation #through inappropriate and blunt conversation #this is not Trauma-Informed (TM) #i just wanted to vent some of my own feelings about them both #jukebox fic #mdzs

[yuta-nakamots]

baby don’t like it - j.jh

Pairings - Idol!Jaehyun x Idol!Reader, Idol!Yuta x Idol!Reader

Genre - Idol!AU, Smut, Fluff, Slight Angst

Warnings - y/n is a cheater, phone sex/sexting, unprotected sex, cumshot

Summary - Relationships can get messy as seen by the way you’ve managed to fuck up one that you weren’t even officially in to begin with but at least your boyfriend seems pretty supportive of it all.

Word Count - 9.8k

A/N - Tagging @hunjins​ and @spookyhyuck​ who make their own guest appearances. This was originally supposed to be strictly a Jaehyun fic but then things got out of hand when I was writing for Yuta ahaha never trust me and Yuta like this.

Part of the 23 Days of Christmas Event hosted by @neosmutcollective​. Check out the masterlist here. 

After becoming an idol, there was a part of you that thought that you’d never find love and end up settling with raising a bunch of cats instead but somehow you had the luck of catching the eye of none other than Nakamoto Yuta when both of your groups were promoting alongside each other.

He had approached you first and blatantly told you that he would like to get to know you better and things quickly progressed from there. He took you on dates to so many nice places and it was like you had found your kindred spirit in him. It only felt right when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

In a little under a year, you found that the only drawback from dating him was that he was always busy. It may not seem that way to the public but he was constantly at work preparing things for future releases and you made sure to praise him for how well he dealt with the sheer amount of content he had to put out. Such situations led to a decrease in time for dates and having to settle for late night phone calls instead.

“I forgot to tell you that me and some of my other group mates were asked to be on a variety cooking show this week,” you excitedly told Yuta over the call, “it’s the one where the two groups compete against each other and do challenges periodically.”

You heard the familiar beep of Yuta’s water dispenser as he filled up yet another cup, clueless as to where his original cup went. “I think Jaehyun mentioned something about going on the show. Are you guys filming tomorrow?” Unsure of your schedule you checked your messages with your manager and confirmed with Yuta that you were indeed filming with his members. “I don’t know which other members are going but I can ask and let you know.”

“Oh, it’s okay, you don’t have to.” You told him, not wanting him to go out of the way for you.

Yuta chuckled on the other end of the line. “Just trying to make sure you’re prepared for whoever you’ll be working with.”

You shook your head though you realized he couldn’t see you anyways. “I don’t think they’ll be able to tell that we’re together from just seeing me cook, you know. It’s not like you’re there for me to stare at.”

“I’m flattered to know that you’d stare at me if I were there,” you heard him pick up his cup and open the refrigerator, most likely looking for a snack, “but keep your guard up anyways. You never know if they’ll mention my name or something like that.”

“If they mention your name it’s probably to tease your cooking abilities-”

“Are you saying I’m a bad cook? Because I can assure you that I am not.” Yuta defended with a huff as he closed the refrigerator, a telltale sign that he could not find anything of interest in there.

“I didn’t say that but if that’s what you think I was saying then sure.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” you could practically see him rolling his eyes, “I have to sleep soon since we have some photo shoot tomorrow and they didn’t like it when I came in all tired-looking last time.” He mumbled something about his dark circles starting to show more as he’s getting older. “Make sure you do some cooking research though,” he advises, “Jaehyun’s a really good cook so you’ll have some competition tomorrow.”

“Mmm okay, whatever you say,” sass evident in your voice, “I have faith in my members though so prepare to watch your own groupmates get shut down.”

Yuta quietly chuckled and you heard him flop into his bed. “Alright, love, I’ll get ready to see that,” he paused to adjust himself under his covers, “but no matter the result I’m sure the episode will come out okay because you’re there and I know you’ll do great.”

You smiled at his sweet comment. “Thank you, I trust that your other members will take good care of us too.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Yuta jokes, “but again, I know you’ll do a good job on the show, have fun at filming tomorrow, I love you.”

“Good luck at the photo shoot, I love you too, goodnight.” With that, you hung up, already halfway to sleep yourself since you were only really safe to talk to Yuta at late hours of the night, not wanting to alert any of yours or his group mates to the status of your relationship together.

In the waiting room on set, you finally had some time to check your phone after a hectic morning of mapping out with your groupmates, Ivet and Liv, your game plan for the show. It was decided that the three of you would be making a type of mixed ramen with whatever spices and other ingredients you were able to win though you’d have to be careful and keep enough stuff in reserve to make side dishes. Looking at your phone, you saw that Yuta had sent you a few messages in the midst of all the chaos.

Yuta > y/n

8:23am: jaehyun said it’s him, johnny, doyoung, and haechan filming today

8:24am: i hope you prepared well because they certainly did

8:24am: i’d spoil their plans but that wouldn’t be as fun haha

8:25am: watch out for haechan and jaehyun though, they’re planning on distracting you guys

8:25am: i have to leave for my shoot now but keep me updated on how it goes!

y/n > Yuta

9:16am: i’m in the waiting room right now, sorry it took so long to reply

9:17am: but really? They just had to send the most competitive guys huh?

9:17am: i’m not gonna spoil our plans either so you’re gonna have to watch the episode to see what we came up with ;)

You group mate Ivet called out your name from the doorway, “we’re starting soon, you better come join us on set.”

“Coming.” You shouted back as you tucked your phone away into your bag and made sure your microphone pack was wired up correctly.

Once you were out on set, Yuta’s members came out shortly after and filming started. Everything was going smoothly, the group introductions went nicely and it was finally time for the starting challenge. All seven of you were on edge since this was one of the most important parts of creating a successful main dish.

“First on the table, we have udon noodles, salmon, and a loaf of bread.” The host announced, pulling the cloth off the table on the side in the middle of where all the rest of the cooking ingredients were.

“Oh my god we have to get the noodles.” Liv whispered to you, gripping your forearm as the challenge was about to be revealed.

“In order to win these, the challenger must do a dance from the opposing group and be deemed successful by at least two members. The first person to yell out their name may challenge on the count of 3. 1, 2 ,3.”

You shot up from your seat as soon as possible, yelling your name and shouting over Haechan calling out his own, confident in your abilities to dance an NCT song after watching fancams of your boyfriend a little too much. “I’ll dance to Work It.” You stated, mentally going over the choreography in your head.

The music began playing from a little before the chorus and you turned to face the cameras in the front, winking at the most centered one as you mouthed ‘work it’ and started dancing. You heard your groupmates erupt in screams from behind you along with side comments from the guys of ‘oh, she’s pretty good’ and ‘not bad, not bad’.

You ended the dance with a cute pose before returning to your seat next to your members. “Y/n how do you even know the dance to that song?” Ivet asked, totally in shock.

Shrugging your shoulders you replied, “it’s a cool song so I watched their videos a couple times and just picked up the dance along the way.”

“Nah, there’s no way you learned it just like that,” Liv interjected, “you’re so slow at picking up choreo, I know you must have purposely learned this.” Again, you shrugged your shoulders, readjusting the wire of the microphone that got jostled around while you were dancing.

“Johnny, Doyoung, Jaehyun, Haechan, what do you think?” The host prompted.

Johnny was the first to speak up. “I’m in the unit that promoted this song so I know the choreo the best out of us here today,” he stated to the host, “so personally, I’ll be a little more strict about details since the others don’t know the dance that well.”

He looked over at you as he began critiquing your performance. “You had good energy but you were putting emphasis on the wrong parts. It’s the second half of the phrase that should look more cool and chic rather than the first half.” He danced it himself to show you what he meant before turning back to the host. “I do not deem it as a pass but I liked her energy as she was doing it.”

“He’s so annoying.” Liv muttered under her breath. You put a hand on her knee in an attempt to calm her down.

Doyoung spoke up next as Johnny was sitting down. “She’s not a member of our group so we shouldn’t expect her to know all the little things. I think she should pass.”

“I don’t think she should,” Haechan interrupted, “the detail is what makes the dance memorable and unique from other dances like it and since that’s how our members performed it, if she’s supposed to be similar then she should do it the same way.”

“Ah, it’s a pity that we don’t have someone else from the unit here who could offer a more fair vote,” Doyoung commented, “Yuta would be better at this.” You felt your heart stop for a split second at the mention of your boyfriend.

“That’s one vote for pass and two votes for fail. Jaehyun, what is your vote?” The host doled out.

Jaehyun cleared his throat before speaking, looking over at you with a shy smile. “I think y/n did good, actually-” Ivet let out a shout of joy, since that meant you won the first batch of ingredients, before quickly covering her mouth out of embarrassment. “Like Doyoung said, she’s not a member of our group so she wouldn’t know the details. Y/n had the same energy and feel that our members did and I think that’s the most important part.”

“Alright, so with that, the members of NCT have deemed this challenge as a success. Congratulations to y/n for winning the first ingredients, you may all start preparing your dishes.” You smiled over to the four of them, thanking them as you collected your prize.

As you set down the large packages on the counter, Ivet nudges you with her elbow. “Hey, Jaehyun keeps looking over here. Should we give him something? I feel kind of bad since he basically allowed us to win.”  

You looked up and sure enough, Jaehyun was staring right at you. He smiled at you as the two of you made eye contact before shyly turning away and busying himself in conversation with his members on what spices were available and what their best options were. “Should we give them the salmon? We really only need the noodles and we can save the bread to make a small desert.” You proposed to your groupmates.

“Wait, why are we giving them our prize?” Liv questioned as she started opening up the udon noodles.

“I’m just trying to be nice.” You mumbled, grabbing a bowl for the noodles. “I don’t want us to look mean if we just hog everything and let them suffer, you know?”

Liv shook her head, “ugh, fine. Give them the salmon but tell them not to expect any more help from us. This is a competition, y/n.”

You roll your eyes at her before picking up the slab of salmon, telling her “it’s not like we know how to prepare fish anyways” as you leave to hand it over.

As you approach them, Johnny notices you first. “Hey hey hey, no stealing our ideas.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you tell him, “I just came over to give this to you guys since we don’t plan on using it.”

“Thank you-” Doyoung began, only to get cut off by Haechan.

“Don’t accept help from the enemy!” He exclaimed.

You raised an eyebrow at them. “Take it or leave it.”

Haechan opened his mouth to speak but Jaehyun beat him to it. “We’ll take it. Thank you, y/n.” The smile he gave you was so cute, you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit charmed by him and his dimples.

After a few more challenges, both teams had a pretty even amount of supplies and your groups’ preparations for the soup broth and impromptu chocolate bread pudding desert are underway. As for the opposing team, they had decided on making salmon rolls along with a fruit parfait using the other ingredients they had won.

While you were breaking apart the bread into smaller pieces for the pudding and your members gathered the necessary baking ingredients, Jaehyun stopped by on his way to the pantry area where your members currently were. “Need any help?” His low voice coming from behind you causing you to jump.

“N-no, I’m fine,” you stuttered, trying to calm your now racing pulse though you’re not sure if it was because he scared you or from how close he was to you, “shouldn’t you be helping your own team?”

“Yeah but there’s four of us and three of you, it’s a little unfair to you guys.” He nodded his head over to where Ivet and Liv were arguing about whether to use white or brown sugar.

You scoffed at him. “Excuse me, but we are fully capable of pulling off this win. Thank you for the offer, but no, I do not want your help.” You noticed the slight smile he had on his face as he backed away and you realized that you had stopped tearing apart the bread while you were talking to him.

“Hey! I know your plan,” you called out, “I won’t be distracted by you again so watch it.” He giggled as he returned to his members, your own giving him death stares after hearing your exchange with him.

Not much else happened after the final challenges and as both teams approached the final stages of preparation, you noticed the glances going back and forth between both groups and they observed the activity and progress of the opponent. You caught Jaehyun looking at you a couple times and made faces at him to mock him, which he made back.

“Stop flirting with him, you guys are so obvious oh my gosh.” Ivet muttered.

You let out a gasp of shock. “What do you mean flirting? I am not flirting with him at all.”

“Yes you are,” she rolls her eyes in irritation, “I see all the faces you guys are making at each other and I’m pretty sure the other guys noticed it too.”

“Well then that means you’re distracted too if you’re watching us.” You shot back.

“Oh, just shut up and get back to work.” Liv huffed. “If you’re dating him you can just tell us, you know.”

You froze as you thought of Yuta. “I am not dating Jaehyun.” You said through gritted teeth.

“It sure seems like it thought.” Ivet retorted.

Once time ran out, both teams presented their dishes to the production staff who would be voting on the winner for today. Your team presented first as per Johnny’s request of ‘ladies first’. They seemed to like your dishes so you were fairly confident in your chances of winning.

When the boys came to present their dishes you were honestly shocked at how good the food looked. You had to give credit to Doyoung who took charge of most of it. “Johnny and Haechan worked on the fruit parfait while Jaehyun and I made the salmon rolls from our memory of making it with our member Yuta back when he shared his mother’s techniques with us.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Yuta trying to direct his members around in the kitchen since he rarely ever cooks in the first place. “Why are you smiling like that?” Ivet asks, snapping you out of your imagination. “Are you looking at Jaehyun again?” You reach over and pinch her side, effectively shutting her up.

As the production staff gathers up their votes, both teams are given time to make their closing comments. Liv spoke for your group since she was the oldest out of the three of you. “We had a lot of fun today getting to cook with each other and we would like to thank all the members of NCT and all the staff who worked with us today. It was a pleasure to be able to come on to this show and we hope to be back again soon.”

Haechan stepped forward to speak for his members. “We too enjoyed being on the show today and we would also like to thank our competitors and the staff for taking such good care of us. It was a new experience to get to do something like this and I hope NCT can come on again with and show the talents of the rest of our members.”

“Any other closing comments?” The host asked.

“As a fan of NCT, it was an honor to work with you guys today and I hope we will get to work together again in the future.” Ivet blurted out, making the studio burst out in laughter from how quick she spoke and the way she covered her face again.

“I really enjoyed getting to know y/n, Ivet, and Liv today and I look forward to working with you guys again no matter what it may be.” Jaehyun quickly said, taking the attention off of Ivet.

“I think the staff have counted up their votes and are ready to announce the winner for today.” The host announced, wrapping up the conversation. “And now, the dishes that won the hearts of the staff are…”

You reached to hold the hands of your group mates as the director wrote on a whiteboard. When they flipped it around, you let out a breath of relief as you read the winning dish. “The udon and the bread pudding! Congratulations to Liv, y/n, and Ivet for being the champions of this episode.”

Liv pulled the two of you in for a hug as you all celebrated your victory meanwhile Haechan came to the front and was asking the staff if they’re sure they counted the votes correctly as his older members laughed behind him.

Filming ends and both teams head back to their respective waiting rooms. You stopped by the bathroom first before joining your members but on your way out you ran straight into Jaehyun. “Sorry, I wasn’t being careful.” You apologize, moving out of his way and continuing on your path.

“Oh, it’s okay, and actually, I was looking for you so it’s more than okay. I mean not more than okay but I mean that it’s-”

“Jaehyun, why were you looking for me?” You ask, successfully saving him from his rambling and future embarrassment.

He reaches a hand behind his neck as the other goes inside his back pocket while his eyes flit around nervously. “I, um, I was going to ask you for your number if that’s okay with you.”

Your brain went into overdrive as you thought about your options. You could say no to be safe though it might draw suspicion since everyone saw how the two of you were interacting earlier. Or you could give it to him and tell him to keep things on the low though it makes another opening for someone to find out about you and Yuta.

“Yeah, sure.” You tell him and you watch as he breaks into a smile, his dimples showing once again. The two of you quickly exchanged numbers before heading off to your own members. On the way back to your dorm, you received a message from an unknown number.

Unknown > y/n

5:58pm: hi, this is jaehyun :)

y/n > unknown

5:59pm: hey, it’s y/n

You saw him start typing but you exited his chat to send a message to your boyfriend instead telling him how your day went.

y/n > Yuta

6:00pm: i beat your members just like i said i would ;)

Yuta > y/n

6:00pm: haha congratulations!

6:00pm: I’ll look forward to watching the episode when it comes out

6:00pm: I paused my anime episode just for you, consider yourself blessed

y/n > Yuta

6:01pm: yeah okay, i’m blessed by nakamoto yuta or whatever lol

6:01pm: did you want to call tonight?

Yuta > y/n

6:01pm: no, i got a headache during the shoot so I’m gonna sleep early tonight

6:01pm: tomorrow we can. I don’t think I have anything

y/n > Yuta

6:02pm: awwww, my baby

6:02pm: i hope you feel better soon <3

6:02pm: get some sleep and we can figure it out when you wake up

6:02pm: i love you

Yuta > y/n

6:03pm: don’t call me that

6:03pm: but thank you love you too

Jaehyun had been sending you messages while you were texting Yuta so you finally went back to your chat with him, feeling the excitement of talking to your boyfriend leave you.

Jaehyun > y/n

6:01pm: i just wanted to say that i thought you looked really pretty today

6:01pm: not that you don’t look pretty everyday but you know what I mean

6:02pm: i’m actually a fan of your group so today was really fun for me

6:03pm: did you maybe want to meet up sometime and get lunch?

y/n > Jaehyun

6:04pm: thank you, you’re quite handsome yourself

6:05pm: we’re actually working on a comeback so i don’t really have too much time these days

Jaehyun > y/n

6:06pm: oh? What’s the album like?

y/n > Jaehyun

6:08pm: we’re going for a darker concept this time

Jaehyun > y/n

6:09pm: that sounds fun!

When you didn’t see him typing again, you closed out the app and went to watch an episode of the anime Yuta had recommended to you a while ago. Jaehyun didn’t text you back for the rest of the night.

You went for the next day without texting your boyfriend but since you didn’t have any activities scheduled for the day, you binge watched nearly a whole season of the anime he had recommended to you until he finally texted you in the evening.

Yuta > y/n

7:16pm: i don’t think i can call tonight. I didn’t finish my chinese homework sorry

7:17pm: i want to talk to you so fucking bad though

7:17pm: i really miss seeing you and getting to touch you

y/n > Yuta

7:18pm: wait hold on

7:18pm: how do you go from talking about learning chinese to being all whiny

Yuta > y/n

7:19pm: it’s because

7:20pm: i miss you

7:20pm: and i’m horny

You were glad you were just lying down in bed because you weren’t expecting him to send you a picture of his bulge, the outline of his hard cock obvious in the soccer shorts he was wearing.

y/n > Yuta

7:23pm: you can’t just send that without a warning!

7:23pm: what if i was doing something huh?

7:23pm: are you even wearing underwear??

Yuta > y/n

7:24pm: no heehee

7:24pm: wanna see?

7:24pm: i know the answer is yes ;)

He sent you another picture that looked almost entirely black but when you opened it, you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend seated at his desk with his legs open and facing towards the mirror by his closet. He had pulled the fabric of one leg of his shorts over his dick, exposing it to you with his free hand wrapped around the middle of it.

y/n > Yuta

7:28pm: what if the answer was no

Yuta > y/n

7:28pm: well you took an awfully long time to respond so i know you like it

y/n > Yuta

7:29pm: shut up or you’re not getting one back

You smiled to yourself as you saw the typing bubble disappear before sitting up and pulling your shirt off. You held your phone up and covered your nipples with your free arm, effectively pushing your breasts up as you bit your lip seductively.

Taking a couple with a variation of angles, poses, and facial expression, you sent the first one and waited for a response. He didn’t respond when you thought he would so you cleared the app and reopened it again realizing that the picture didn’t send so you sent it again.

Yuta > y/n

7:36pm: you’re so fucking hot

7:36pm: i can’t believe i get to call you mine

7:37pm: you’re literally a goddess

7:37pm: fuck can you send another one. I’ll send a voice recording

You sent him the rest of the ones you took and within a minute he sent you another picture of him accompanied by an audio message. Opening the picture first, you noticed how much more red his cock was, the veins more prominent than before. Your mouth watered at the sight of his length and the shine of precum at his tip. He had pulled up his shirt, revealing his abs and navel piercing, his hand tight around the base of his cock.

Making sure your earbuds were connected, you hit play on the voice message. “Y/n, baby, I miss you so fucking much. I wish we were together right now. I’d fuck you so hard that you’d only be able to say my name.” You reached a hand into your underwear as you heard him start moving his hand on his dick.

You inserted two digits in and started fingering yourself to his words. “I miss how warm your pussy is around me. I miss the way you moan when I fuck you just the way you like it. I miss feeling you cum on my cock and the way you take me so well.” Your fingers were in no way close in length or thickness to his cock but you hadn’t gotten off in so long that it wasn’t hard to get yourself worked up.

Yuta’s voice choked up in the recording for a bit and he let out a moan. “I-I miss seeing you so full and dripping with my cum. Fuck, I need to cum so badly.” You pressed your fingers as deep as they could go and you felt your pleasure starting to build.

You opened your camera and recorded yourself with your fingers deep inside of your pussy, you hand getting covered with your juices. “My fingers aren’t anything like your cock. I miss how good you fuck me and how deep your reach inside of me.” You paused as you brought your phone closer to your glistening folds.

“I love the way you make me cum and the way you fill me up so good.” You brought your phone back up, to get your face and naked torso in view. “Cum for me, Yuta.”

You continued fingering yourself to the voice recording he sent until you received a video from him. As soon as you opened it, his hand was already picking up speed on his length. “You miss my cock, baby? You miss cumming on it?” He let out a groan as he played with the tip of his length, his hand becoming slick with his own precum.

“Fuck, I’m so hard right now and it’s all because of you. I can’t wait to fuck you senseless the next time I see you. I-Fuck,” he started rapidly jerking himself off, “I want you to cum for me. I want to fill you up with my cum and watch it drip out of you. Ah fuck-” you watched as he covered himself in his own cum. On his abs, his hand, his thighs, and you felt a surge of arousal as you watched it drip down over his body, making his skin glow.

You dropped your phone in your haste to record yourself cumming for him and when you picked it up, you saw the picture that you sent earlier but not the video and previous messages from Yuta. Looking up at the name at the top of your screen, you broke out into a state of panicking realizing it wasn’t Yuta that you had sent the picture to. It was Jaehyun.

Jaehyun > y/n

7:37pm: damn. I didn’t know you were so sexy

7:38pm: i also didn’t know you were one to send nudes but i’m not one to say anything

y/n > Jaehyun

7:38pm: oh? You don’t seem like it either

Jaehyun > y/n

7:38pm: want proof?

y/n > Jaehyun

7:38pm: sure

You went back into your chat with Yuta, not wanting him to worry about you or question why you were taking so long to respond to him.

y/n > Yuta

7:39pm: fuck i thought i recorded myself cumming for you but i guess i didn’t hit record

7:40pm: i’m sorry :’(

Yuta > y/n

7:40pm: ah, it’s okay, as long as i know you came, I'm satisfied

7:41pm: besides, i have like four more pictures to look at when I feel lonely now

y/n > Yuta

7:41pm: ugh you’re so weird

7:42pm: but i kind of have a headache now so i think i’m gonna go to sleep soon

Yuta > y/n

7:43pm: i’m weird and you like it

7:43pm: go to sleep if you’re not feeling good though. Text me when you wake up

7:43pm: sleep well, i love you <3

y/n > Yuta

7:44pm: thanks, love you too

Checking back in on your chat with Jaehyun, you were surprised to see that he had actually sent you a photo. He was only in his underwear as he stood in front of his mirror in a similar setup to that of your boyfriend’s. He had raised one eyebrow and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek while he grabbed at the outline of his clothed cock.

y/n > Jaehyun

7:46pm: you’re pretty sexy too, i must admit

Jaehyun > y/n

7:46pm: like what you see?

y/n > Jaehyun

7:47pm: hell yeah i do

You felt a sudden rush of anxiety and worried about what Yuta would think if he found out about you and Jaehyun so you muted your notifications from Jaehyun and left your phone to charge as you took a shower.

Ever since that night where you accidentally sent Jaehyun a picture of yourself, the two of you have been texting on the down low. You hadn’t told Yuta because you were afraid of ruining your relationship with him or getting in the way of his relationship with Jaehyun.

Honestly, you just hoped Jaehyun would lose interest in you and find a new girl so you could let this whole thing be put to rest and tell Yuta once you were ready. But for now you entertained Jaehyun because you didn’t want things to be awkward the next time you saw him, especially now that the end of year award shows were approaching and you’d probably run into him somewhere at an event like that.

One of the award shows your group was set to attend was in Tokyo and Yuta had informed you that NCT would also be attending. “You know, since we’ll both be in Japan soon, how about I take you out on a date after the festival ends?” He proposed over another late night call.

“I like the sound of that,” a smile on your face as you spoke, “when are you leaving?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow. How about you?”

“I leave tomorrow so I guess I’ll be getting to the hotel before you.”

“Are you sharing a room with anyone?”

“Yeah, probably. You?”

“No, they gave us our own rooms this time around,” Yuta paused as he giggled, “you know what that means?”

You let out a similar giggle at how cute your boyfriend was. “Sexy time?”

“You know it.” You swore you could see him smirking through the phone. “But I’ll text you my room number once I get there so you can come by and we can plan out a day for me to take you out.”

“Sounds good-”

“Hey Yuta- oh, sorry. Are you talking to someone?” You heard the unmistakable sound of Jaehyun’s voice.

“Uh, yeah,” Yuta started, his voice showing how unsure he was, “just talking to a friend in Japan that I’m thinking of meeting while we’re there.”

Jaehyun let out what sounded like a noise of approval. “Oh, okay. I needed to ask you something but I’ll come back later.” You heard the door close as he left.

“Gosh, that guy,” Yuta breathed out once he was gone, “he’s been acting differently lately. I just don’t know what’s up with him. He’s always on his phone these days.”

You let out a light laugh. “You sound like an old man, Yuta. Though I should get going now in case he comes back.”

“Yes, you’re right. But, don’t forget, Japan, room number, then come over. Okay?”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you too. Can’t wait to be with you again.”

Currently, you were dressed in sweats and one of Yuta’s shirts, even though you’ve had it for nearly four months now, after a day of just touring the hotel and performance venue as other idols began arriving. You were sure Yuta’s plane landed two hours ago so he should be at the hotel already but he hadn’t texted yet and you had started dozing off which made you worried that you’d fall asleep without seeing him. Just in case he forgot, you decided to send him a message asking what room he’s in.

You felt your phone vibrate after what felt like a minute but when you saw the time, you realized you had fallen asleep for about an hour. Reading the message on the screen, you saw the room number 412 and pulled yourself out of bed, making sure to grab your key card before you left.

When you arrived at room 412, you knocked on the door excitedly knowing that Yuta was waiting on the other side and you were more than ready to tackle him in a hug after not seeing him for nearly three months because of his own group promotions. What you didn’t expect was for Jaehyun to appear instead, shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants on.

You both stared at each other in shock before Jaehyun pulled you in, looking both ways to make sure no one saw the two of you. Once the door was shut he stepped away and asked “so, why exactly did you ask for my room number and come over this late at night?”

“I-uh, hm.” You didn’t know how to get yourself out of this but the way Jaehyun was looking at you told you that you wouldn’t be able to leave until both of you were exhausted.

“I take it that you were tired of just looking at a screen and wanted to experience the real thing in person.” He looked at you with an eyebrow raised. “Because I sure do.”

You saw the opportunity he was giving you and took it. “I like the way you think,” you closed the distance between both of you, “just don’t you dare tell anyone we’re doing this and I won’t either.”

“My lips are sealed,” he promised, giving you a playful smile, “with yours!” His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you in, greeting your lips with a warm kiss. You quickly melted into his kiss, one of your hands coming to rest on his firm chest. “Bed?” You nod and let him lead you to his queen sized bed.

He sits and falls backward on the side of his bed, pulling you to rest over him before kissing you once more. Your hands tangle themselves in his soft hair while his hands make their way to your ass, gripping your cheeks firmly before gently kneading at them. You shift your thigh to rest comfortably between his and that’s when you feel his length, already hot and hard beneath you. “You’re this worked up already?”

“I could see the outline of your nipples through your shirt and I just couldn’t stop my mind, sorry.” His cheeks started turning pink as you gave him an accusatory glare.

You shook your head before sliding a hand down over his chest, stopping at his solid abs. “I’m only forgiving you because you’re cute and sexy, but look at my eyes next time you pervert.”

“Yes ma’am oh-” He gasped when your hand went under the waistband of his sweatpants and started playing with the head of his cock. “Fuck that feels so good.”

You felt him twitch under your grasp and you realized just how large he was. “You’re fucking huge.” Your hand traveled further down his length. “I knew you were big but I didn’t know you were this big.”

“You wanna see it?” He teased though he threw his head back and moaned when you rubbed the tip of his cock.

Satisfied with his reaction, you pulled his sweats down and he lifted his hips to help you, his hard length hitting his chiseled body as he sunk back into the bed. Jaehyun let out a sigh of relief as your hand wrapped around his member and you felt it twitch within your grasp, causing you to meet his eyes with a smile.

You noticed his ears turning a light shade of pink as you sat back on your knees to pull off your own shirt, which you remembered actually belonged to your loving boyfriend, throwing it to the side and nodding at the man in front of you as an invitation from the way his eyes were suddenly glued to your breasts.  

He sat up and pulled you into his lap, attaching his lips to your sensitive buds, alternating between kissing them and gently sucking on them as he teased them with his tongue. Your arm came to rest around his broad shoulders and you rested your cheek against his soft hair. You reached down to tease at the tip of his cock once more, letting out a noise of surprise as Jaehyun lightly bit into the skin of your breast. “What was that for?”

“It’s sensitive, you know.” He looked up at you, his hair falling into his eyes as he left kisses up your chest and neck while cupping and kneading at your breasts.

Brushing his hair away from his face, you told him “yes I do know, but I can’t do much else when you’ve got me stuck like this.”

His lips pulled away from your breast with a pop and he slid down beneath you so that he was laying down once again, his aching length practically begging for attention. “Here, ride me then.”

Giving him a devilish smile, you leaned off to the side to slide your own sweats and underwear off before seating yourself mere inches above his warm pulsing cock, lining it up with your entrance and slowly sinking down on it. You nearly got goosebumps from the way he filled you, the stretch stinging in the most pleasurable way.

You let out a moan as you fell forward, your hands landing upon his firm chest, bracing you as you began slowly moving on his length. Jaehyun groaned as you rose up to the point where only the head of his member was inside of you before lowering yourself back down, sheathing his cock in your warmth.

His hands found their way to your hips and he helped to guide your movements as you began to speed up, enjoying the way his length seemed to hit all the right spots. You threw your head back as Jaehyun began meeting your movements, his hips thrusting up from below you, pushing himself even deeper into your core.

Even when it was reaching the edge of being too much, causing you to stop your motions, he continued rocking his hips into you and went even harder when he noticed your still frame above him with your eyes shut in pleasure. “Babygirl enjoying my cock that much?��

“Shut up and just fuck me, Jaehyun.” Had your eyes been open, you would’ve seen the shit-eating grin that appeared on his face before he caged you in his arms and flipped the two of you over, his length never once leaving your warm walls.

You gasped as your back fell onto the bed, your legs unintentionally wrapping around his waist, bringing him even closer to you and burying his cock even deeper inside of you. Jaehyun braced himself on his forearms as he began thrusting into you, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your shoulder with every exhale.

The new position allowed him to adjust the speed to his liking, which was considerably faster than before, leaving you a moaning mess with one hand gripping onto his bicep and the other on his abs. The room was filled with the sounds of skin against skin and his lips on yours, the latter effectively muting the noises that either of you made.

When Jaehyun thrusted particularly hard, you accidentally bit into his plump bottom lip, causing him to let out a grunt before he pulled away and slowed down his movements. “You good?”

“Yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to bite you.” You apologized, your eyes falling from his face down to where his member was still dipping inside of you.

“Guess we’re even then.” He remarked playfully as he grabbed your calves from around his waist and brought them to rest upon his shoulder.

You breathed out a single “fuck” from the way the new angle allowed him to hit different spots in you. You were just about nearing your orgasm and could tell Jaehyun was too from the way you could feel his length twitching within your walls when your phone suddenly rang.

Jaehyun paused as you reached over to grab your phone from the nightstand, only gently pushing into you as you read the caller ID. “Who is it?” He asked, a slight smile appearing on his face.

“My, -uh, roommate,” you tell him, instead of reading Yuta’s name that was currently lighting up the screen, still fighting to keep your volume down as he continues rolling his hips into you.

“Answer it.”

“What? No way.”

“Go ahead, answer it.”

You shoot him a look and he pulls out nearly all the way with an eyebrow raised at you, threatening to answer the call. Huffing out of indignance, you accept the call and raise the phone to your ear after making sure the volume was as low as possible.

“He-hello?”

You hear Yuta’s voice over the line as Jaehyun starts to slowly rut into you once more. “Where are you?”

“I’m with my manager right now-” you nearly moan from Jaehyun purposely thrusting long and hard into you, but cover it by clearing your throat, “talking about the schedule for tomorrow.” Your voice raised at the end as Jaehyun delivered another powerful stroke.

“Are you okay?” Yuta questioned upon hearing your intonation.

“Yeah, um, I’m just not feeling all that good from the uh, fuck-” you glared at Jaehyun and placed a hand on his pelvis to soften his movements, “the traveling and activity.”

Yuta hummed in understanding and you felt bad for lying to him like this. “We can figure out another time to meet up and plan our date. You should go to sleep and get some rest, I don’t want you getting any worse.”

“Okay, I will. Thank you-” you pull the phone away from you as Jaehyun starts to speed up again and you cover your mouth with your free hand, letting out a muffled groan.

You brought the phone back to your ear to hear the tail end of Yuta’s “I love you” before telling him the same and quickly hanging up.

“You tell your groupmates ‘I love you?’” Jaehyun asked, not even bothering to slow down.

“Yes, and you don’t?” He rolled his eyes at you, only leaning down further, making his cock brush against your most sensitive areas. “Fuck, right there!”

Your walls flutter around his length as he begins mercilessly pounding into you, seeking his own release while you bring a hand down to rub at your clit, sending yourself into an orgasm. The spasming and clenching of your walls around his cock eventually pushes Jaehyun to his end as well though he quickly pulls out and cums onto your stomach instead, the warm strings of white coating your skin.

He lets out a string of groans and curses as he continues jerking himself until the last drops of cum are dripping from the tip of his length. He reaches over to the nightstand, grabbing a tissue and hastily cleaning off both of you before he collapses into the bed next to you.

“I’m gonna go wash up in the bathroom.” You inform him, sliding out of bed as he pulls the covers over his large frame.

“Mmm, alright, don’t take too long.” You could tell he was already getting drowsy from the way he drew out his words.

You picked up your clothes from the floor and took a quick shower in the bathroom but by the time you came back out, you knew Jaehyun was knocked out from the way you could hear his faint snores. Checking your phone on the nightstand, you saw two messages from Yuta and you knew you couldn’t keep this going any longer.

Yuta > y/n

11:43pm: text me how you’re feeling when you wake up

11:43pm: I can go run and get stuff for you at a convenience store before rehearsals

As much as you enjoyed the mindblowing sex that Jaehyun gave you, you knew that your heart laid with Yuta. You picked up the pen and notepad resting on the desk in the corner of the room, writing Jaehyun a note before quietly leaving the room.

Jaehyun, Thanks for everything but I can’t continue our relationship like this. I feel that we are best off as friends and I hope you can understand and respect my wishes. I’m sorry. -y/n

You made sure to text Yuta that you were feeling fine, still just a little bit tired but you weren’t sick, much to his relief. During stage rehearsals later that day, your group just so happened to pass by him and his members as they waited for their turn.

Yuta’s hand brushed against yours and you quickly apologized, matching the smile on his face as the two of you finally saw each other in person for the first time in months. You continued past the other members in an elated state, not even realizing the way Jaehyun had been staring at you.

“Did you see how Jaehyun was staring at you?” Ivet questioned, excitement written all over her face. “What if he has a crush on you, oh my gosh-”

“Yeah, did you guys ever talk to each other again after the show?” Liv added.

You shook your head, making a face of disgust. “Him? He’s not my type. We talked and I got his number but nothing happened.”

“You got his-” You covered Ivet’s mouth with your hand, noticing the way people around you were starting to look at you and your group as you all headed back to the waiting rooms.

You were glad that your members quickly dropped the topic once back in the waiting room, opting to play games on their phone or someone’s Switch instead while biding time as your managers came to pick you guys up. You decided to leave Yuta a message to make yourself feel better though you made sure that you were texting the right person this time.

y/n > Yuta

3:27pm: what’s your room number? Sorry I forgot to ask last night

3:27pm: I’ll be over once you guys are done

You didn’t expect him to respond for a while, especially since he just went on and you knew he had to stay later that day to record interviews and other content in Japanese. Time couldn’t go by any slower as you laid in bed and switched through apps, waiting for Yuta to be done with rehearsals. Your excitement couldn’t be hidden when you finally received his message later in the evening.

Yuta > y/n

8:32pm: just got back. 417 i left the door slightly open

y/n > Yuta

8:33pm: coming

8:33pm: that’s dangerous you know. Someone can just walk in

Yuta > y/n

8:34pm: then you better hurry ;)

It felt as if you were a little kid again, the way you could barely control your pace as you walked throughout the hotel, your body itching to sprint through the halls to get to your boyfriend sooner. When you quietly entered his room, you saw him standing by his bed with his back towards the wall, probably organizing his backpack out of boredom.

Rushing up behind him once you were close enough, you wrapped your arms around his waist and began tickling him, causing him to erupt in his infectious laughter as he squirmed around in your arms. He eventually freed himself, only to turn around and come right back into your arms. “My love, I’ve missed you so much. I can’t believe you’re actually in my arms right now.”

You allowed yourself to sink into his hold and inhale the scent of him that you missed having on all of the shirts you’ve stolen from him. “Can we just lie down together and go to sleep instead?”

“I wish, but you know we can’t,” he sighed, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t cuddle for now.” Yuta pushed you onto the bed, jumping on after you and rolling around with you in his arms. Once the two of you were comfortably tangled with the other, Yuta began pulling up places to go, showing you pictures and talking about things to do there.

“So at Harajuku there’s tons of clothing stores and really good food vendors too. There’s even some cat cafes we could go to and then-”

“Okay, I get it, we’re going to Harajuku, calm down.” You laughed, seeing how excited he became. True to your boyfriend’s nature, he quickly gave up trying to plan out a whole day of activities and choosing to simply make a list of places to go like Yoyogi Park, or the Yayoi Kusama Museum, and the previously agreed upon Harajuku.

After compiling the list, you were calculating how much time you had left before your roommate would question your whereabouts when Yuta suddenly turned to you. “So tomorrow, some of the members were thinking of going out to get lunch and I was thinking that maybe I could bring you along…” His voice trailed off as he looked at you for your opinion.

“You want to introduce me to your members?” Your eyes were wide at the thought of having to talk to Taeyong, who you absolutely looked up to or Johnny, who just scared you from his appearance alone. But most of all, Jaehyun.

Yuta nodded his head, his earrings making the faintest jingling sounds. “Not all of them will be there but I think we’ve been together long enough, right? It’s like meeting your in-laws kind of.” You weren’t too keen on the idea of seeing Jaehyun so soon, especially after what happened earlier today with him but you agreed anyway, not wanting to let Yuta down.

All throughout the morning, you were filled with anxiety as you thought about going to lunch with Yuta and his members but you followed through regardless because if Yuta was ready to make this next step in your relationship then you should take it with him. You met him in his room and went down to the parking garage with him, only reaching out for his hand once you were sure there was no one else around.

As you approached his members, Yuta called out to them. “Guys, this is y/n,” you suddenly felt nervous at the way all three men turned to look at you, “I’ve been dating her for about a year now and I felt that this would be the right time to finally introduce her.”

The end of Yuta’s sentence was cut off as Jaehyun suddenly began coughing and pulled out his phone, looking anywhere but at you though you didn’t have much time to dwell on it. “Hi y/n, I’m Taeyong, nice to meet you,“ you and Taeyong both laughed from his cheery attitude as you shook his hand, “I hope Yuta has been treating you well though I’m sure you wouldn’t have stayed with him for so long if he didn’t.”

“She actually idolizes you,” Yuta quickly interjected with a chuckle, “she probably wants to date you more than she wants to date me.”

You looked at him in disbelief though you were torn out of it by Haechan who commented, “we all do, she’s not special.”

“Hey, behave,” your boyfriend scolded, “that’s Haechan, the idiot,” Haechan was about to open his mouth to complain but was stopped by Yuta’s finger on his lips as he shushed him, “and over there is Jaehyun.” He looked up and gave a quick wave with an expressionless face before staring back at his phone.

Once you were all seated at the restaurant and waiting for the food, Taeyong began asking more about you and your relationship with Yuta who was currently sandwiched in between the two of you. “So how did the two of you actually meet?”

“She came up to me-”

“He told me that he-”

You both turned to each other with the same scowl adorning your faces. Placing a hand on his thigh you raised an eyebrow at him. He did the same to you before giving in. “Alright fine, I went up to her first because I thought she was cute,” Yuta explained, “remember that one episode on Music Bank or something when I said the girl in the green dress was cute? That was her.”

Taeyong and Haechan both seemed to have a moment of realization meanwhile Jaehyun was busy staring daggers into Yuta’s hand on your thigh. You could see him out of the corner of your eyes because he was seated right in front of you though you pretend as if you didn’t.

“What’s Yuta like as a boyfriend?” Haechan asked, a mischievous look on his face.

Yuta turned to you, his signature Chesire cat grin appearing. “I couldn’t ask for anyone better than him,” you state simply while maintaining eye contact with him, “he always does his best to take care of me even when you guys are really busy and he gives some of the best advice whenever I need help with something work-related. I genuinely feel that I want to be with him for as long as possible.”

“Yikes, get a room,” Haechan joked after seeing the way you smiled at his fellow member while talking about him.

“Jaehyun, are you okay?” Taeyong looked over at the said member with worry. You did as well and the look he gave you could only be described as one of pain. He nodded his head and flashed a quick smile at everyone else before his gaze lingered back on you and then back to his phone.

Only when Yuta was wrapped up in conversation with the other two did you nudge Jaehyun’s foot across from you. He did not react so you did it again and he looked up at you with the same emotionless stare. You didn’t even get the chance to do anything because at that moment, the food for your table arrived. Everyone lets out remarks at how good the food looks and you begin eating after warning your boyfriend not to inhale his food, much to Taeyong and Haechan’s amusement.

Later on, Taeyong brings up something about their performance, bringing Haechan and Jaehyun into the conversation but Yuta leans over and whispers, “I know about you and Jaehyun,” you momentarily freeze though you give him a look of confusion, “I’m not stupid, you know. I know you two were talking.”

You all but choked on the mouthful of noodles you were chewing but you brushed it off as Yuta telling you a funny joke. The others ask to hear it too and you were glad Yuta was a quick thinker and was able to make one up on the spot. You were surprised that Yuta claimed he knew about your relationship with Jaehyun but didn’t seem to be upset. It was honestly scaring you at this point.

Once the bill was paid and the group of you were in the car heading back to the hotel, Yuta starts up the conversation again as you were both in the back row of the van. “I wouldn’t have minded if you wanted to have fun with Jaehyun for a bit, you could have just told me.”

“Okay, how much do you actually know?”

“I know that you were in his room getting the sense fucked out of you when you should have been with me, if that’s what you’re asking about,” you felt yourself go into a state of panic though really, you were just confused about this whole thing, “you know, I wouldn’t mind including him in our relationship sexually. You just had to ask.”

Your eyes go wide at his words, unsure if this was all really happening or if it was just a dream. “Are you actually being serious right now?”

Yuta shrugged his shoulders and giggled, “I don’t know. Am I?”

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