#idk this detail just really stood out to me and i appreciate it so much bc like while my current therapist is great ive had some in the pas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelwithdemonictendencies · 11 months

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is it possible that just yesterday your name was not the shape of all my exhales; how could a room without you not be empty?

jh86 x reader: it’s a billet house situation.

(warnings: blasphemous filth (it’s honestly not even thaaaaaat bad), masturbation, oral sex (f on m), unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), praise, way too much whimpering, more tension than actual smut (you guys know how i operate), yes the tooth is addressed, idk just please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: my favorites! thank you endlessly for your patience! here we are, with another story about the (newly) toothless wonder that makes him out to be a stuttering, blushing, whimpering mess. as is typical for my jh86 stories, you have all the power (as you do in real life). and, since i always get a little influx of hate whenever i post for jh86, please remember that whenever anyone shares a bit of writing with you, they are putting a part of themselves entirely at your mercy, so act accordingly (i.e. with kindness). i truly appreciate your encouragement and messages and love so genuinely, you have no idea. if some of the details seem a little threadbare here, please don’t look too closely - i know the premise is a bit far-fetched. regardless, the next time i emerge from my cave of teeth, i will bring an offering of either mt19 (welcome, newbie) or am34 (hi, angel), depending on for whom the muses give me more inspiration. anyways, sending so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks even now. see you soon.

you knew your parents had becomes a billet family while you were away at school, although you really didn’t know what that meant. to you, their new arrangement, their good deed, their latest endeavor now that they were empty-nesters, didn’t really involve you or your break.

a young hockey player was staying with them so he didn’t have to live on his own, they had explained. yeah, sure, you had responded, expecting a twelve-year-old prodigy to be living in your house when you arrived home for your extended break. you could be nice to a kid for a while and make an extra portion during lunch. you barely gave it a second thought.

however, when you lugged your suitcases through the door on that first day, there was no twelve-year old prodigy to be found. instead, when you set your bags down with a huff, you looked up to find a twenty-something staring at you from the kitchen, a bowl of cereal in his hand.

he stood there, frozen, almost theatrically still, his eyes holding yours for several seconds as you swiped a loose lock of hair from your face. you straightened up, stretching your back to its full extension, before raising a brow at his odd reaction, or lack thereof.

“uh, hello?” you said, a slight smile gracing one side of your mouth.

he seemed to lose his grip on his bowl at the sound of your voice, dropping it only slightly before fumbling to grasp it again, the spoon making a clattering noise.

“y-yeah, hi,” he said. you felt your smile grow as he flushed a delicate shade of pink. he cleared his throat before speaking again. “they mentioned you’d be coming home.”

you took in his face. his long, soft-looking hair that framed his heart shaped face, his pouty, full lips, the gentle slope of his nose, the surprisingly sharp angle of his jaw.

he was the definition of pretty. and, if you could tell anything from this one interaction, he was pretty and nervous, your favorite combination. fun.

you cocked your head to the side, looked at him, still down the hall, noticed his grip, comically firm around his bowl so as not to drop it again. “so, roomie, do you take the right or left side of the bed?”

your smile only intensified as you watched his brow furrow, his mouth stumble over his words, panic flood his eyes. you let him trip over himself for only a second longer, not wanting to be cruel. too cruel, at least.

finally, you waved him off playfully. “i’m kidding. my room’s down the hall from the guest room, if you need anything.” his little nervous laugh made your chest sing, a bit. “what’s your name?” you asked as you took hold of your bags, began to haul them up the stairs.

“right,” he said, voice shaking only slightly. “it’s jack. my name’s jack.”

you grinned, the action making its way into your voice as you tested out the name on your tongue. you noticed his flush grow deeper, more personal, saw something shine across his gaze at his name in your tone, promising in a lovely kind of way.

you told him your name when he asked, gave him a final lazy once-over. “your spoon’s upside-down, jack,” you called through a clenched grin, bit your lip when you heard him mutter something and the tell-tale sound of a spoon against a bowl.

quickly, you realized that your break had just gotten significantly more interesting.

the one downside, though, came when your parents told you that you would be sharing your car with the newest member of the house.

it wouldn’t be too bad, they said, as he would be practicing or playing for most of the day at the rink just a couple streets down, and if you needed the car, you could always drop him off.

sure, fine, you thought, you could share. you could try not to make him too nervous, even if it was fun. of course, you could play nice.

so, this was you, playing nice, driving him to practice the next day.

after he had settled into the passenger seat, you put your hand on the back of his headrest and turned your body so that you could reverse the car out of the driveway.

his gaze slid to your neck briefly before he flushed, only just.

“so,” you began as you pulled away from your house, facing forward again, “are you any good?”

“what?” he asked, suddenly more bashful, looking down, fidgeting like he didn’t know where to put his hands.

you smiled, kept your eyes on the road. “at hockey, jack. are you any good at hockey?”

he shook his head, let out a light laugh, the melody of which made you scrunch up your nose slightly. he brought a hand to absentmindedly scratch the back of his neck. to your surprise, his mouth actually ticked up into a soft smirk, an expression that was completely new to you.

“yeah, i’m pretty good at hockey, i think,” he replied, his voice probably as stable and confident as you had ever heard it.

you nodded. “huh,” you said, “i wouldn’t have guessed it.”

he turned to face you, looking confused, even a little hurt, his gaze suddenly shimmery with something. “what? why?”

you felt a smirk creep onto your own face as you pulled into the parking lot of the rink. “oh, i don’t know,” you replied with a shrug. “you’re a little too pretty, i guess,” you finished as you put the car in park, turning to him now that you were stopped. “but you must be used to people saying that.”

he scratched his neck again, eyes anywhere but yours. “y-yeah,” he finally mustered. “used to it, yeah.” he fumbled for the door handle, finally opened it. “you’ll, uh, you’ll pick me up at 3?”

you couldn’t help but bite your lip at his reaction. “you told me a teammate was driving you home.”

“yup, i did,” he said, slowly, as if running the words over in his head, nodding as he grabbed his things, hiding his pink face from you. “i did say that. so i’ll see you at home then.”

“see you at home, jack,” you finished as he shut the door, watched him mumble something to himself and shake his head as you drove away.

what a fun addition to your break, you thought, typically so filled with work and school preparation. what a meaningless and harmless distraction from the work you needed to do.

so, when you got home, you spent a large chunk of time chipping away at that work. when you finished, though, you thought you’d take advantage of the sunshine and lay out for a bit, maybe get some color.

you couldn’t have been outside, reading in your bikini, for more than twenty minutes when a car pulled into your driveway.

you pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head to see jack climbing out of the passenger seat, talking to the driver, presumably one of his teammates, before the driver turned his head to look at you. his mouth ticked up in an arrogant smirk as his gaze rolled down your body.

you could have rolled your eyes. “hey, handsome,” you said instead, pushing yourself up and onto your side.

jack stilled for a second before continuing to take his bags out of the trunk.

“hi, beautiful,” his teammate said. “don’t tell me hughesy’s been keeping you a secret, hm?”

you laughed, false and sugary like a diet soda, tilted your head back so your hair would fall to expose your collarbones.

“hughesy couldn’t keep me anywhere if he tried,” you responded, watching jack’s face pale. you smiled at him as he approached. “jack, did you tell your teammate he’s welcome to stay for dinner?”

jack looked at you, searched your eyes for a moment. there was something steely in his. something you liked, something that sparked some heat between you.

his teammate laughed like he knew something you didn’t, breaking the tension. “another time, beautiful,” he called from the driver’s seat, beginning to pull away.

you gave him a pout. “i’ll hold you to it,” you flirted, only turning to jack once the car was completely gone. “jack, before you go in, could you put some sunscreen on my back?”

he fixed you with a look, uncharacteristically serious. his gaze hovered on your chest for a second before meeting your eyes again. he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, gave a slight shake of his head. “i’m not doing that.”

you furrowed your brow. “why not? no one else is home.”

“too bad,” he said, continuing inside.

you rolled your eyes at him, but began to fold up your towel. “fine. if i make dinner, will you tell me about practice?”

there was a pause.

“yeah, sure,” came the response, almost uncertain in tone, like he thought this must be some kind of trick. like no one had asked him that before, as if no one had ever wanted to know.

and as much as you enjoyed playing with him, you actually wanted to get to know him, too.

so, that night, and each night following, this became part of the routine. you’d make an extra portion for dinner, and as you sat together and ate, you’d ask questions about his practice, his day, which would lead to answers to unspoken questions about his life, his person.

“why hockey?” you might ask, to which he would rattle off some media trained answer, to which you would raise your brow in doubt. only then would he give you some real answer about falling in love with the feeling of it, about feeling closer to his family because of it, eventually hinting to an insecurity that he didn’t know how to do anything else.

and he might ask about school, to which you would say what you were studying, to which he would shoot you a doubtful look. only then would you give some real answer about wanting to do something tangible, something that no one could say was pointless, eventually hinting at an insecurity that your work might eventually mean nothing.

harmless, you thought, meaningless. that’s what this was. fun.

meaningless, how eventually you wouldn’t have to tell him you were heading to the car, how you would just know he would be there in the mornings to go to practice. meaningless, how after dinner, he would wash the dishes and you would dry them. meaningless, how each day he would reveal a bit more of himself to you, and you would grant him the same privilege.

until you knew him like he was one of your best friends, and he knew you as good as anyone.

the more you learned about him, and the more you shared, the less meaningless it felt, the more comfortable it all felt.

sometimes it even felt like jack was most comfortable when you were explicitly trying to make him uncomfortable.

you expected the blush, the stammering, you found a type of peace in it, just as he found peace in your innuendos, your comments, your shameless flirting, even if he thought you were only joking, only playing around.

even if he thought you couldn’t possibly want him so explicitly, so clearly. when had anything ever been so straightforward?

so he decided you were toying with him, however disheartening the idea was.

each day, it seemed, a different teammate would drive him home, and more often than not, you would be tanning in the yard.

and his usual blushing, stuttering reaction slowly melted and hardened into a gaze full of desire, poorly veiled.

his ever-present flush was still there, of course, but your focus had shifted to the way his chest would rise and fall, the way his eyes would linger on the elegant slope of your shoulders, settle in the pockets of your collarbones, drip down your legs, so reluctant to glide back up to your eyes again.

and you would ask him to put sunscreen on your back, and he would say no, each time looking more and more confused as to why he was refusing.

the first time his mask of nonchalance truly broke came only a couple weeks in, the day when the teammate who had driven him home on that first day eventually drove him home again.

and there you where, in practically the same place, same state as that first day. with maybe the slightest bit more of a motivation to bring jack to a stumbling, stuttering mess.

you were about to open your mouth, say something like hi, again, handsome, but you didn’t even get the chance to.

as soon as jack got out of the car, he made eye contact with you. there was electricity there, a spark you felt in your bones. “hi, baby,” he said, his voice so sweet and doting your stomach actually dropped at how genuine he sounded. but he couldn’t mean it, right? what was he playing at?

so you shot him a look, scrunched up your nose, to which he sent you a warning glance. you rolled your eyes, caught the smirk his teammate sent his way.

“need some help with your sunscreen?” jack offered as he walked up to you, making you pause. you took your sunglasses off of your head and set them down.

you met his gaze again, tried to figure out his angle. when you couldn’t, you simply stood up, handed him the bottle, gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail and faced away from him. “is your friend staying for dinner?” you asked, more so to the driver than to jack.

the man in the car shook his head. “sorry, beautiful. i wouldn’t want to intrude on date night.”

and suddenly jack’s hands were on you, as close as he had ever been, the chill of the lotion along with the heat of his palms sending a shiver down your spine. despite yourself, your words came out breathy. “date night. right,” you said, trying not to focus on the callused texture of his hands as they worked your shoulders, the plane of your back, up to your neck.

you barely noticed when the car pulled away, could have moaned at how good his touch felt. even when he was done, he kept his hands on you still, one on either side of your waist. you could feel his breath on your neck, suddenly remembered who he was, the weirdness of this whole interaction.

you turned around to face him, hardened any desire into something you could use. something like a weapon. you placed both of your hands on his chest. “feeling touchy today, hm?” you asked, looking up at him, willing innocence and intrigue into your eyes.

and just like that, he was there, again, the jack that you knew. a flush crept up his neck to his cheeks, and his eyes darted around your face as he searched for words.

“‘m sorry, baby, just didn’t want him to think-”

you cocked a brow. “didn’t want him to think what?” you prompted, ignoring the fact that he was still calling you baby, like some kind of community theatre actor unwilling to come out of a role. you weren’t acting.

he tilted his head back, looked to the sky for a moment. “it’s just that,” he looked back at you. “he’s, you know, just-”

you nodded. “what, pretty boy?” you asked, raised a hand to push a damp lock of hair from his face, watched his blush deepen with a vengeance, his eyes cloud with something darker.

he seemed to forget what he was saying completely, the combination of your words and your touch on his face like a sedative.

and you had a feeling that the words that were caught in his throat were something along the lines of he’s not me. but, you figured, if he wasn’t going to tell you that, that was on him. so, instead of kissing him, like you so wanted to, you just gave a disappointed shake of your head, swiping a thumb across his bottom lip before heading inside to shower away the sunscreen you didn’t need, had never needed.

your dinners were common ground, a momentarily truce, before you would go back to your endless quest to see that flush, and he would return to his endeavor of trying to hide it, to hide what you were doing to him, which was only getting more challenging.

little did he know, it was only getting harder for you to control yourself, too. especially when you would be in your room, with the door open, and he would walk out of the bathroom, freshly showered, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

and you would try not to look, try not to stare at the way his hips just barely held up the towel, or how his chest gleamed in the most inviting way.

it became harder still when you realized he was talking to you.

“hm?” you asked, forcing your gaze up to his eyes.

“said i used your body wash, baby, figured you wouldn’t mind,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair. your eyes followed the motion.

“why?” you asked, brow furrowed. “yours is in there, no?”

his smile was small, bashful. you got up, slowly walked over to where he stood. “like the smell of yours more,” he admitted, looking down.

“and you’re sure it’s mine?” you placed a hand on his bare shoulder, pushed yourself up so your face was aligned with the space between his neck and collarbone, inhaled, felt a shiver start just under your touch. “nevermind,” you said, recognizing the flowery scent. “it’s mine.”

you looked up to meet his eyes, not taking your hand off of him just yet. “’s okay, then?” he asked, that beautiful blush spreading down his neck.

you hummed, slowly pulled your hand off of his shoulder. “if you like it so much,” you said with a shrug, walking back into your room, “feel free.” so you left him, breathless, standing in the hallway. you, too, had to catch your breath, though, when you shut your door behind you and looked down at your hand, seemingly scorching from resting on his bare skin for so long. you could still feel him underneath you, in an instant developing a craving to feel more of him, feel all of him.

still, you understood that you both couldn’t dance around each other forever, that at some point the spell would shatter like a china teacup on the floor. and that’s exactly what it felt like when he asked you if it was okay that the car would be back later than usual tonight as you washed and dried the dishes together. you had already agreed that he would drive himself back from his game, but, apparently, he had plans after the game, too.

“sure,” you said instinctively. “for what?”

something curious burned alight in his eyes as he said, “just seeing a friend, should be back later tonight.”

and something green burned alight in your stomach as you immediately became alert. you knew a friend. you had several a friends. “yeah?” you asked. “who?” you hated the way your voice, usually so steady and confident, took on only the slightest of creaks at the end of your question. you felt like it exposed you entirely.

he paused, searching your eyes for a moment before looking down again. “just some girl,” was his answer, almost uncertain, continuing to run a rag over a glass.

you felt that feeling bubble up inside of you, hot, blistering jealousy, but also pure anger. how could he not love this game as much as you did? how could he end it, throw the board away so easily?

but you just gave a slight nod, refusing to look at him.

unfortunately, you realized, you two had grown close enough that he knew you, truly and deeply, and of course he would be able to tell that something was off.

“what?” he asked, turning to you. “what is it?”

you shook your head. “nothing. hope you have fun.” but your voice came out short, snappy, sort of mean.

he furrowed his brow. “wait, what?” he said. “what is this?” he gestured to your general presence, to which you put down the plate in your hands and sighed, finally looking at him fully.

you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

whatever he saw in your eyes made the slightest of pouts grace his lips. he gave a nod of understanding. “oh,” he began, “you’re jealous.”

you huffed. “i am not.”

“you are. i know you are, baby.” something flashed briefly through his gaze, making his pout deepen. “what, so you’re allowed to fuck around, but i’m not? how does that work?”

fire roared inside of you as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, brought him down to your level. “fuck around? is that what you think i’m doing?” you watched him swallow, swore you could feel his heartbeat under your hand, willed pity into your eyes and shook your head. “oh, sweetheart,” you tsked, “thought you were smarter than that.”

you let yourself look at his lips one more time before letting go, turning to walk away.

“go ahead and fuck around, if you want to,” you called over your shoulder. “but i don’t think you want to.”

and you must have been right, because after the game, at the time you had originally expected, you heard the car in the driveway, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

you heard him come up the stairs, close the door behind him, settle into his room. and you left him to whatever he was doing, for a while, maybe an hour or two. until you decided you were going to take a shower.

you walked out into the hallway, a towel wrapped around you, and began to make your way to the bathroom. and you would have made it there, if you hadn’t been stopped, completely frozen, by the soft noises coming from behind jack’s bedroom door.

noises that sounded like stifled, breathy moans, like whimpers trying so desperately to be hidden.

you inched closer to the door, listened through the wood, although your suspicions were all but absolutely confirmed already.

your throat began to tighten as the noises became clearer, less controlled, and if you didn’t know better you thought they could have been mistaken for teary sobs, if not for the undeniable baseline of pleasure and desperation that threaded all the noises together.

and you knew it was normal, for a young man to touch himself, and you told yourself that you would have walked away, stalked back to your room, completely unsatisfied.

but when he clearly moaned out, “fuck, baby, like that,” the sound bursting out of him like a confession, you knew you weren’t going back to your room. not when he had called for you, had begged for you, was so obviously thinking of you.

so you opened his door, met his hooded gaze immediately, saw alarm and shame flash through his eyes, watched his hands fumble for his blankets in an attempt to cover himself up, to which you could have scoffed.

“no, no,” you cooed, approaching the side of his bed. “‘s okay, baby.” you relished in the way that beautiful blush of his blossomed like a peony in late spring, full and all-consuming, making him look so deliciously vulnerable.

his exhale was shaky, a rockslide of emotion. “baby, you weren’t s‘posed to-” he didn’t finish his thought. “i didn’t mean to-” another breath. “tried to be quiet, i swear.”

as he spoke, though, you squinted at his mouth, noticed how swollen his top lip was, finally recognized that his front tooth had chipped, seemingly right in half.

you gingerly took his jaw in one hand, tilted your head, concern lacing your voice. “does it hurt?” you asked, mesmerized by him, the physical evidence that he was alive, that he could hurt, and could still desire you so blatantly.

his eyes, before glazed over, took a moment before understanding filled them. he immediately looked down, tried to remove himself from your touch. “not anymore,” he mumbled. “know it looks bad-”

you scoffed at this, traced your thumb along his lip, felt the swell and heat travel through your body. “you think it looks bad?” he gave a bashful nod, setting your blood ablaze. “oh, jack,” you said, shaking your head, “you could never be anything but pretty.”

and he looked at you like he would endure all the pain in the world, if only so you would tell him he looked beautiful while doing so. you smiled at how he glowed under your praise, smiled into his lips as they met yours in a kiss that felt much too long overdue, and yet felt so familiar, almost nostalgic. he kissed you with a hunger that surprised you, given the tenderness of his lip, but he moaned into your mouth, so you figured he didn’t mind too terribly. you ran your tongue along his teeth, your fingertips dancing along his jawline before pulling back, only just.

after a breath, heavy with want, you sunk to your knees beside his bed, looked up at him, took one of his hands in your own. your stomach stirred at how he immediately clutched back. “let me help you, hm? i’ll make you feel so good, jack, i promise.” you tried to dull the teasing in your tone. “know you were thinking ‘bout me, before.” your voice became a rasp at the memory. “when you were touching yourself, yeah?”

he blushed, but shifted towards the edge of the bed, closer to you, his swallow rough and audible. he squeezed your hand in a silent plea. “please, can i touch you, pretty boy?” you asked. “let me suck you off, hm?”

he nodded, a whimpered “please?” escaping him as you pushed his covers aside, spat into your hand and took him into your grip, hot and hard under your touch, the result of weeks of pent up lust, fantasies he had assumed dead suddenly being jerked awake. you peered up at him, wanting to see every reaction he could give you.

as soon as you touched him he squinted his eyes shut, lost in the sensation of you, here, exactly as he had imagined you so many times. his grip on your hand tightened when you took him in your mouth, felt the weight of him, the weight of his longing, through your entire body.

“fuck, baby,” he cried, using his other hand to gather your hair in a fist, as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cock before teasing the tip. “your mouth feels so good.” his voice was a shudder as you hummed around him, making him moan deeper.

he grew harder in your mouth as you hollowed out your cheeks, drew your head up and down, losing yourself in the rhythm of his breathing, tethered to this reality only by his hand on yours.

before you knew it, you could feel his thighs clench in telling as his exhales grew tight. “y-you need to stop, baby,” he whimpered, eyes glassy, “’m gonna cum if you don’t.” his voice was pleading.

you didn’t stop immediately, only looked up at him through your lashes, making him curse, his brow furrow. “please,” he begged, “don’t want to cum yet, baby, please.”

you thought for a moment, part of you wanting to feel him in your mouth for a little longer, but the part of you that wanted to know what he felt like inside of you won out in the end.

you reluctantly pulled up off of him, melted at the gratitude that mingled with the desire in his gaze. “what if i want you to cum?” you asked, rising from your knees, grinning when he pulled you on top of him.

“you first,” he said before kissing you again, bruising and potent with feeling. “need to feel you cum around me, baby.”

“yeah?” you said against his mouth. “is that what you were thinking about before i came in?”

he hummed a noise of affirmation. you bit your lip at his confession, plainly delighted at the reminder that he thought of you, that you occupied his mind the way he did yours.

you pushed his chest back, positioned yourself on top of him. “been wantin’ to fuck me, hm?”

you bit your lip again as you sunk down onto him, closed your eyes at the stretch. “so bad, baby,” he groaned, “so, so bad.” you both stayed completely still for a beat, basking in the feeling that you both had been craving for what felt like ages. you placed your hands on his stomach to ground yourself, felt his muscles clench underneath your palms as he grabbed at your hips, the warmth of his hands sending a shiver up to your neck.

“fuck,” you moaned, finally adjusted to the size of him, needing him to move, needed some release to the impossible tension inside of you. “please fuck me, jack. need you to.”

and of course he wanted nothing if not to do exactly as you asked. he bucked his hips up into you, creating an immediate rhythm as you rode him, meeting his every thrust. the rhythm was not perfect, but every slip up felt predestined, too, a reminder that you were both human. a reminder that even through imperfection, everything felt perfect solely because it was between him and you.

“you feel so perfect, baby,” he bit out. “fuck, can’t even tell you how good.”

you moaned at his words as he brought one of his hands to thumb at your clit, making you groan and clench around him, tilt your head back at the sensation.

he gave a series of especially deep, slow thrusts, making you bite back your moans, squeeze him harder.

“look so pretty, baby,” he said, breathy, barely audible, “so fucking pretty like this.”

you locked eyes with him, groaned at the look in his, completely focused on you, his flush, this time from exertion, not embarrassment. you felt yourself grow close, just there. he continued to tease your clit as you ground down on his cock.

“‘m so close, jack,” you cried out, “gonna make me cum, yeah? just like you’ve been wanting, hm?”

his thrusts grew erratic at the prospect, his breaths shallow. “please cum for me, baby,” he all but begged, “want to feel you. need to feel you cum on my cock, yeah?”

at his words, combined with every overwhelming sensation you were feeling, you felt that wave of pleasure finally crash, sweeping him up with you as he came, spurred on by you squeezing him so tightly, your nails clawing at his stomach.

you collapsed on top of him, both of his arms coming to wrap around you, holding you to his chest, where you could feel his inhales and exhales as if they were your own. a glistening sheen of sweat settled on both of you like a gloss as you laid together, such a raw and deep desire having finally been truly recognized.

you stayed quiet for a while, so utterly content to just exist in each other’s space. when the silence broke, you barely noticed.

“you really don’t mind my tooth?” he asked, his voice rough as he rubbed his thumb across your back.

you gave a drowsy smile, hummed, loved how his voice wasn’t shy, how he was growing so comfortable with you, even still. “i love it,” you said honestly. “looks hot.”

he rolled his eyes at you, flushed, to which you placed a gentle kiss on his chest, where the color started. “being serious,” you said, smiling. “besides,” you added, “i’ll love your mouth as long as you let me kiss it.”

he laughed at that, shaking his head, obviously pleased.

and how beautiful, to be the one to evoke such a reaction from him. to be the one he even cared to ask such a question to in the first place.

fin.

1K notes · View notes

acescavern · 8 months

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GAME OVER - LEE JENO X READER

GAME OVER

Navi - m.list

Pairing: Lee Jeno x Fem! Reader

Theme: Hint at college au! This is the same paring from my fic ‘Quiet’, fluff, smut, hint of angst? Crack maybe?

Synopsis: When your boyfriend invites you over to his place only to ignore you to play games with his friends all evening, you decide to go out and celebrate a mutual friend’s birthday instead. Jeno never minds when you go out to clubs and bars… only when a specific Loverboy doesn’t tend to leave your side all evening.

Warnings: Lots of swearing, Probably over use of many variations of ‘fuck’, Big dick! Jeno, Pierced! Jeno, Possessive!Jeno, A hint of angst?, Jealousy, Jaehyun clearly likes you allot regardless of your boyfriend, He’s kind of a subtle dick?, the reader and Jeno are sort of in an argument, Unprotected sex, Exhibitionism ( They fuck in the restrooms and Jaehyun is outside), fluff at the end, Jeno is a smug little shit, marking, idk what else.

Word count: 2,698

Note: Hey my lovelies, another Jeno fic! I’m going to attempt to have all the NCT fics I write to be in the same universe. So, when Set Me Free is released it will fall in with this fic too even though it’s Intern!Mark. I know I said that last Jeno smut would be the one and only smut i do but honestly when inspiration strikes - you just gotta. I made the dividers and the header on Canva. Feel free to send asks about my fic characters. The spice is very brief in this one, i apologise - I didn’t want the smut to be too detailed. It's still my longest of the three i've published so far. I feel like my 'writing rust' is curing slowly? I apologise for any grammatical errors

Reblogs and feedback are appreciated!

“Are you sure the exit is covered, Mark?” Jeno heard through the device in his ear.

“For the last time, Yes,” Mark grumbled in exasperation, as he scanned the surroundings.

Jeno could only chuckle, observing from his characters spot on a nearby rooftop. His thumb slowly moved the left analog stick to change the camera angle and look around once more. “Chenle, on your left - there’s Hyuc-” He abruptly called out, voice raising with the excitement.

“What? Fucking whe- Shit!” Jeno had to pull one of his earphones out at the enraged screech that followed, Chenle shouting for Renjun to come and revive him.

One game soon turned into two, then three, and now four. And it was as if Jeno had forgotten all about you for the moment. You, who was sprawled out on your back, boredly counting each line of profanity you heard your boyfriend boom down his mic. This wasn’t what you had in mind when Jeno asked you to come over after class. You’d hoped that he would opt out of squad night and spend some alone time with you - seeing as you hadn’t really had much time to yourselves since way before the camping trip last month, and whilst you loved his friends like family there was only so much of their company you could take.

You lazily picked your phone up from the floor, responding to a few messages until you hovered over the most recent one. “Coming out tonight? It’s Xiaojun’s birthday.” Your thumbs hesitated in typing out a reply, chin tilting to glance over at your boyfriend, who showed zero signs of stopping his game. As you stood, your knees and ankles groaned in protest from being sprawled out on the fuzzy rug for hours.

“Jen..” You called out, shoulders slumping when the other didn’t respond. “Jen!” You repeated louder, unable to keep the hint of annoyance from your voice. Jeno jumped, he would never admit it but he almost forgot you were there. He removed an earphone, muting his mic to turn toward you.

“Yes, Baby?” He hummed, raising a pierced brow. He hadn’t caught on to the clear boredom in your expression, nor the dejected tone to your voice as you spoke again.

“I’m gonna head out, Ten invited me out for Xiaojun’s birthday.” You explained, Jeno’s eyes creasing at the corners as he smiled at the mention of the two.

“Make sure Ten don’t go home with Johnny again.” Was all he said, already beginning to turn back to his computer.

You couldn’t believe that was all he said, he didn’t even offer to go with you nor drop you off. You stood there for a moment, left eye almost twitching in anger at the whole situation. You weren’t a clingy girlfriend, you never demanded to be with Jeno all the time. It was quite the opposite actually, but there were times when he acted like this and it got to you. All you wanted was some one on one time..

Deciding to forego the impending argument for tonight, you shuffled closer to him to press a kiss to his forehead so you didn’t disturb his game. “You’re coming back here, right?” he mumbled, not even waiting your answer properly before a harsh “You fuck head, Hyuck!” escaped him.

With a mumbled ‘sure’, you gathered your bag and left him to it.

Jeno hadn’t even realised how he was acting. He still continued gaming with the guys for at least two or three more hours. He stretched his arms above his head on a groan, clicking his spine as he twisted in his chair. “Mark, pick another game. This one’s getting too easy to beat you at.” He snickered smugly.

“You seen Hendery’s story, Jen?” The voice sounded almost devious. As if Jaemin was in on a secret nobody else was.

Instead of answering, his hand swiped up his phone from beside his keyboard and swiftly unlocked it with his thumb. Jeno found Hendery’s profile and tapped on the story. His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. It was you, Xiaojun and Jaehyun. The later, Jeno wasn’t particularly a big fan of… okay that was a massive understatement. Quite frankly, Jeno hated the way the man looked at you. He knew Jaehyun had asked you out a few times, before you and Jeno had gone public, and whilst he knew you turned him down everytime… he also was very much aware of how persistent the older man could be. Not that Jeno didn’t trust you, he trusted you with his life but Jaehyun however? No.

Jeno’s gaze drifted over your frame in the picture, his breath drawing in sharply. “Fuck me…” he cursed. The dress you were wearing had him frozen in place.

A short little black number, ending way too high up your thighs for his liking. Jeno could clearly see from your side pose that it was backless, the halter strings of the dress tied in a perfect bow at the back of your neck. The front? Jeno couldnt even think about the front right now, not when he could clearly see Jaehyun’s eyes were definitely not directed toward the camera lens.

“Bro… you must have done something terrible in your past life.” His friend Donghyuck laughed into his ear. “The dude’s looking at her as if he won a fucking jackpot!”

“Say’s the bitchless one.” Jisung quipped, adding on a rushed defense. “Not that ___’s a bitch, Jeno.”

Jeno could only groan in despair. “What am I meant to do? I don’t even know what club she’s a-”

“Envy. It’s written on the cup, Dumbass.” Jeno glared at his friends icon on the call, then glancing back to the image and sure enough, the black cup in your hand had the club logo printed on the side. “Jeno, you’re designated driver.. And who else.. Mark?”

Mark let out an unsure sound of agreement. “Uh.. yeah, sure. I’m not staying though, got work early in the morning and this internship is kicking my ass. I’ll drop you at the door and pick you up but that’s it.”

Jeno was silently seething, continuing to tap through Hendery’s story as his friends made arrangements. In each one of them, the same guy was always with you. Even when you weren’t in the photograph, Jeno caught sight of you both in the background and with new determination, he shucked off his hoodie to get ready.

You were having a good time. Much better than being ignored by your boyfriend, that’s for sure. Part of you still wished you'd put your foot down and demanded Jeno pay attention to you. He was the one who asked you to go over after all. But, you much preferred dancing with your friends over causing arguments with Jeno.

You were dancing with Ten and Jaehyun when you first spotted the familiar head of black and pink streaked hair. The grinning man approaching the three of you the moment he caught sight.

“Chenle? What are you doing here?” You shouted over the music, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

Honestly, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you’d seen Chenle make an appearance at a night club. The younger shrugged with faux innocence, his grin broadening as his gaze caught sight of someone over your shoulder.

“Ask him.” He simply stated, with the nudge forward of his head being a signal for you to probably turn around.

From the way the colour drained from Jaehyun’s face, however, you weren’t sure you wanted to. You could physically feel the anger radiating from the person behind you - You were 100% certain who it was. It was solidified when a hard chest pressed against your back, hot breath against your ear.

“Yeah, ____. Ask me.” You’d never experience this Jeno yet. This Jeno was mad, His voice sharp and heavy, the emotion making it slightly husky.

Chenle only grinned wider, shooting you a thumbs up as he coaxed your friends to the bar. You didn’t face your boyfriend yet. Unsure of what you might see, if his voice was anything to go by you’d probably fold in thirty seconds flat. Jeno has a special talent in making you fold. Instead, you crossed your arms over your chest, straightening your shoulders. How dare he come and crash your fun? After he ignored you for so many hours.

“Finally remembered you have a girlfriend then?” Was your snarky reply.

You were so glad you weren’t looking at him, from the way a tense silence followed your words. Honestly, you stupidly thought you’d made him speechless. A smirk tugging at the corners of your glossy lips. The triumph didn’t last for long, the victory slowly fading from your face at the almost sinister chuckle.

“Could say the same about you.” Jeno’s clipped tone bit right back, his strong hands settling on your waist. “Someone should tell Jung fucking Yoon-Oh to get his own girlfriend and stop making googly eyes at mine.” Your boyfriend’s gravelly voice rumbled into your ear.

That made you step forward, Jeno’s hands falling away from your waist before he could tighten his hold to stop you. Your mouth opened to speak but your words got stuck in your throat. There he stood, Pink hair swept back in probably the only style he knows how to do himself, black skinny jeans and a dress shirt with only the bottom few buttons done up to leave it open to the bottom of his sternum. He looked mouth watering. You could feel your resolve crumbling bit by bit.

“He-He didn’t touch me.” You choked out. “He’s just a friend, Jen.”

Your voice didn’t sound like you, it was breathy and low but somehow he heard you. Jeno’s facial features were set in a hard line, stormy with jealousy, the constant flashing lights around you reflecting off his eyebrow piercing. His jaw flexed.

“To you, yes. But to him? Baby, when you showed up here looking like fucking aphrodite in that dress… he probably thought it was his birthday.” He said tautly.

You didn’t have anything to say to that. You couldn’t dispel Jeno’s worries either. Whilst you had definitely noticed how the man in question hadn’t left you alone all night, you’d done nothing to try and put any distance toward you. Your anger at your boyfriend had clouded your judgement - your mind telling you that Jaehyun was just acting as a comforting friend and listening ear. Though with the amount of times he’s still asked you out and the amount of ‘jokes’ he makes hinting at you being ‘too good’ for Jeno, you can’t say you blame your boyfriend for his blatant dislike. In his defense, Jeno had voiced his insecurities surrounding the man many times to you and you knew it was something he was very much bothered about.

At the thought, your anger dissipated like a deflating balloon. If you’d just spoken to Jeno in the first place then you probably wouldn’t be in this situation. The apology died on your lips when both sides of your face was firmly cupped and Jeno leant in. His nose brushing yours as his almost possessive gaze met your startled one.

“Mine. ____ you’re mine.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his statement firm. You didn’t disagree anyway.

“Only yours.” Your instant reply had his shoulder relaxing only slightly.

The tension was thick and neither of you had leant away. It was as if a rubber band had snapped when your lips met, hungry and claiming. Hands all over each other desperate to find purchase.

That was how you found yourself in your current state. Pressed against the locked door to the club restroom with your dress bunched around your waist. Your high heels dug into the backs of Jeno’s thighs as each hard drive forward thudded your back louder against the wood. Jeno couldn't help but admire your smudged lip gloss, the rest of which he was sure to be smeared along his neck, the base of his cock, and his own lips. Eyeliner and mascara streaked further down your cheeks with each pleasured sob.

Jeno’s firm grip on your thighs hoisted you against the door, he made no effort at all to silence your cries and moans. He didn’t want to this time. You were his and right now he really hoped Jaehyun was waiting outside for the restrooms to be unoccupied. With a deep moan of his own, his teeth reattached to your neck. It was as if he thought the bruises he marred your skin with would have faded in the last thirty seconds, his teeth pulling at the skin over them.

“Say it again, Baby. Please.” He uttered breathlessly, delivering a particularly firm thrust.

Your words were incoherent, you may aswell have been babbling total nonsense. This man had filled you to the brim, pounding the same spot over and over enough for you to see stars. An elongated whine left you, fingernails gripping at Jeno’s back underneath his shirt. Your thighs shook in his hands.

“Yours. Jen-no! Always… Always yours.” You cried out, almost letting out a scream when he tilted your hips for the right angle.

“Oh god… oh g-god!” Your sobs were like music to his ears, your pleas and praises fuelling his speed.

Jeno lifted his head, sweat beading his brow as he kissed away your tears. His chest was flushed red from exertion. You tried to hold on longer, you really did but your orgasm crashed down on you almost abruptly, dragging a filthy, loud, wanton moan of his name from your throat.

“Shit…” Jeno swore as you clamped down around him almost in a death grip, prompting his own release.

You felt like your whole body was twitching in the aftershocks. You almost flinched at the sensitivity of Jeno’s piercing dragging against your sensitive parts as he slowly pulled out. The both of you were panting heavily like you’d run a London marathon. You made no effort to move and clean up yet, opting to draw Jeno’s torso into your body in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry for playing on your insecurities.” You admitted sheepishly into his ear. “I was just so annoyed.”

A soft hum in reply was heard, the sound still lightly vibrating his chest. “Why were you annoyed?”

“You invited me over to just ignore me for hours. I just wanted some quality time with you.” Your confession had Jeno’s mind clicking everything into place.

“Oh… I didn’t think of it like that. ____ I just always want you around. I hate it when you go back to your apartment.” He lifted his head from where it was nuzzled comfortably against your marked chest.

Your tongue darted out to nervously wet your lips, your right shoulder lazily lifting in thought. “Okay…” You started off, slowly. “Then… What if I didn’t?” You offered tentatively.

Jeno didn’t say anything as he processed your words, his lips pulling into the first smile he had directed at you all evening. “Then… I’d clear out half of the closet space for you… maybe get you a key cut.”

“I’d like that.” His smile was contagious as hell, the corners of your mouth pulling up into an expression to match his own.

Jeno quickly cleaned you both up after that with a mutual agreement that you should both go home and shower. His large hand wrapped tightly in your own. You both looked a disheveled mess, your panda eyes and his wrinkled shirt and messy hair. However, you’d made yourselves presentable enough to make it to the car. His free hand twisted the lock on the door, pulling it open to the stunned faces of your friends. None of them said anything but judging from the smirks and snickers, you’d surely get drilled in the group chat later.

One face stuck out to Jeno amongst them all. The one closest to the door. The number one cause for his possessive streak this evening and whilst you were off saying goodbye to your friends, Jeno leaned in slightly for only Jaehyun to hear him.

“Game Over, Loverboy.”

#lee jeno #College au jeno #College au dream #Nct dream #Nct Jeno #Jeno x reader #Jeno smut #Jeno angst #Jeno crack #Jeno nct #Jeno fic #lee jeno smut #jeno x you #Jeno x y/n #Nct smut #Nct angst #Nct fluff #Nct one shot #Fic recs

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theroseiswithoutawherefor · 4 months

Text

Well, first of all, I have to thank @yridenergyridenergy for selling me the ticket! It was literally the best experience I had throughout the year; I really, really, sincerely appreciate it.

As promised, this is my repo of the gig in Wakayama. To be honest, I’m really a bad recorder as I can only recall the sensation or vibe in general and forget the details every time. Am I the only one?? Anyway, I guess my drawings may not be precise at all and it would be more like a summary of the year.

And this repo will be focusing on Kaoru, Toshiya and Kyo. I’m sorry but I stood on the left in both times.

Kaoru

It’s so strange that I can easily feel my love for him grows with time and what a coincidence! I visited them twice this year and I was right in front of him every time. I always assumed that I would be in front of Toshiya when I checked the hall map in December, but no! It was Kaoru again! It kinda shocked me the time I located my seat and noticed his microphone stand was there, just about 2 meters away.

I think probably it has been known by all of you, the show started with a semi-transparent screen showing some AI-generated footage(sorry, I hate this part). It covered most of the setting but just revealed some shadows. I could only see Kaoru, his side profile, priest-alike gown and silver hair. He looked so focused and indifferent and so good-looking…my hands are still sweating as I recall it now.

That was my first time listening to Rinkaku on-site. I got caught up in emotion when you could easily compare themselves in reality and their sketches in the video. You could see how much they have changed and it also just reminded me a lot of moments, staying at home and staring them on the screen. The real vs the virtual.

Also, at the beginning from the distance, I could only see some sort of marks on his chin that looked pretty much like piercings? It turned out to be his makeup; so brilliant.

Kyo

I didn’t see Kyo that much this time, but I feel he is that kind of vocal that you would fall in love with once you’ve actually seen him in the venue. He looked so nostalgic to me this time, maybe bc of the ghost face makeup or the fact that I have seen him too much this year. I also went to HK for sukekiyo this year.

The gig of sukekiyo was more emotional, floating and spacey (and less aggressive, obviously). Kyo’s dedication was so contagious. Although he looked a little bit nervous at the beginning of the Day1, forgetting the lyrics now and then lol.

It is interesting to see the similarities and differences between Diru and Sukekiyo, like looking at different reflections of the same mirror.

Btw probably he is the most inspiring Diru member to me I guess. Idk why drawing kyo always begins with a pretty satisfying draft then it becomes a big challenge to my expertise and patience ahhhh. But yeah, I can improve a lot after finishing it. So, kyo, thx? lol

Toshiya

I’m not quite a fan of his white outfit that day(the one worn in the pic of their tweet on 16th Dec). Actually I even failed to recognize him the first, waistcoat and palazzo trouser are ok but definitely not the most stunning look of him. It seems that his style is becoming more gender-neutral this year, with hair dyed brown, pearl jewelries and feminine makeup.

But I still quite enjoyed his performance, his body language was so beautiful (ugh! It’s such a shame that I can’t recreate it)and he was the first one going to the left terrace and saying hi to everyone. Toshiya is always the sweetest person in Diru to me.

I prefer his encore look more and he took off the shirt and threw it to the gift right in front of him

（and a random sketch）

That’s it! I could have drawn more but, sorry I’m a perfectionist, these pics really took me some time, but I may keep going if I have spare time.

And I’m not used to talking so much on the Internet, it is embarrassing somehow.

The year of 2023 has treated me rly good, I hope it would be the same for all of you and Diru members, see you next year.

#dir en grey #sukekiyo #kaoru #kyo #toshiya #A repo? maybe?

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egcdeath · 2 years

Text

sunday kind of love

request: I'm still so so so in love with jake lockely, and wanted to request something with him and his girl being domestic af, like going to the night market together to get stuff for a late dinner, him not letting her get an uber because he's the best, dancing with her in the kitchen while it cooks 🥺 you're so good at writing intimacy it kills me honestly (in a good way)

pairing: jake lockley x reader

summary: a glimpse into the best and most domestic day of the week for jake and the reader.

word count: 5.1k

warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF!! you will need to see your dentist after this, domesticity, playful nagging, a lot of references to food idk why, dialogue heavy towards the end, really really soft, not beta read

author's note: i want to preface this by saying that jake is ooc. to be fair we’ve seen like 3 minutes of him in canon, but he is just a big old teddy bear softie in this fic who loves his gf more than anything. this fic involves the same couple from love in bloom. i wrote it with them being together for at least a few years in mind, but it’s really up to interpretation, and you definitely don’t have to read that before you read this fic! i hope you enjoy.

Saturdays used to be your favorite day of the week; that was, until you fell into your Sunday routine with Jake.

You woke up to the rhythmic snoring of the sleeping man beside you, the familiar vibrations from his chest rattling through your own body, fueling your reluctance as you slowly and quietly slipped out of bed, attempting to escape the heavy arm laid across your own chest. Despite the knowledge that he often slept like a rock, you made sure to avoid your one creaky floorboard as you escaped your bedroom.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you evaluated the ingredients you’d picked up from the farmer’s market just a day prior before turning on a playlist of some of yours and Jake’s favorite music.

It was almost alarming how easily you’d fallen into a familiar rhythm with the man—beginning with routine visits to the market on the weekend, to second, third, and countless other dates, then escalating into spending more time at each other’s places together, and collaborating on little things together when you couldn’t be together, like watching the most recent season of Acapulco Shore while sending texts with commentary to each other, or adding a song you thought he might like to your shared playlist. Falling for Jake, and loving him, was easy—something you frequently thought about, like now, as you evaluated your pantry and fridge for something nice for your partner to wake up to.

You eventually settled on dressing up some avocado toast on Jake’s favorite artisanal sourdough, and got right to work with washing and cutting produce, along with arranging the avocado in a manner that was simply unnecessary—although, as you’d learned, it was the little details that Jake appreciated. Singing under your breath along to a song that Jake had added to the playlist, you found yourself focused and lost in making a clean green spiral of avocado slices.

“Morning,” Jake said raspily, voice low and groggy from sleep. He casually snaked his arms around your hips as he approached you, setting his head on your shoulder, giving you the tiniest start. You couldn’t deny that one of your favorite parts of spending the weekend with Jake lied in how you kicked off the morning. The back hug and cheek kiss was now a classic move, one you always looked forward to while you stood alone in your kitchen, despite the tiny scare it always seemed to give you.

“‘m glad you finally decided to wake up,” you teased, setting down the butter knife in your hand that you’d been using to design your own toast, and reaching up to gently scratch the stubble on the cheek next to yours.

“It’s hard for me to get my beauty sleep without my girl,” he shot back, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. You fought (and lost) a smile as his stubble gently rubbed against your face, a familiar comfort that seemed to make your heart leap no matter how many times you felt it.

“I dunno, you still look pretty beautiful to me,” you shrugged, reaching back down to the cutting board to grab a washed strawberry by its stem before holding it up to Jake’s mouth for him to bite while you held your free hand under his chin in order to catch any mess. “Open.”

Jake gladly took your strawberry offering and practically purred. “Delicious. But not as sweet as you, cariño.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, watching Jake with nothing short of hearts in your eyes as he shuffled away from you and made somewhat of a beeline to your Keurig. You paid him no mind as you moved over to your stovetop to work on cooking eggs to go on top of your toast. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’d sleep better if you didn’t leave me,” he sighed dramatically, grabbing two mugs and coffee pods as the machine gurgled at him in a frankly uncouth manner.

“I was gone for like, ten minutes tops. You’re just clingy,” you teased right back, setting a lid on top of the popping skillet.

“Can you blame me for wanting to spend every second of the day con mi corazón?” Jake questioned, walking to your fridge and grabbing your respective creamers. “You’d be complaining too if one of your major organs got up and left you alone in the middle of the night.”

You scoffed playfully, “It was nine in the morning! I’m tired of this honeymoon phase. Will you ever stop being lovesick?” you whined, setting your hands on your hips as Jake took a detour to snatch yet another strawberry off the cutting board on his way back to your now fully functioning coffee machine.

“Unfortunately no. Doc says it’s chronic. I may never recover,” he sighed, adding the creamer and sugar to your piping hot drink in just the way he knew you liked it. “And Doc told me that the only temporary cure is for you to stay in bed with me all night.”

“That’s too bad,” you feigned disappointment, sliding the now over-easy egg onto Jake’s overdressed toast. “I guess I’ll sacrifice the possibility of ever bringing you breakfast in bed. Those are just the kinds of things you do when you love someone.”

You made quick work of putting finishing touches on the slice before grabbing your plates and heading over to the table.

“Eh, I’ll live,” he shrugged, setting your mug in front of you, then leaning down for a quick kiss that you gladly returned. “Everything looks amazing. You’re amazing.”

You shook your head fondly, “sit down and eat before I make you take me to the dentist for being so sweet.”

—

There was never a dull moment between the two of you, which was why something as simple as doing the dishes had somehow managed to become a ‘moment.’

It all began when Jake insisted that he do the dishes, as he often did, followed by you protesting (as you often did); something about you being a good host and him being a good guest. Either way, it ended with you at the sink, and Jake on drying duty standing in a comfortable silence as your joint playlist flipped through some of your favorite songs.

Eventually, one slow song in particular popped onto your speaker, eliciting a soft gasp from the both of you— one that said ‘This is our song!’ without really having to say anything at all.

All at once, the fork in your hand fell into the basin of the sink, and Jake set the partially dried mug onto your countertop. You gave each other a certain look, and Jake reached out an expecting hand, one that you gladly took.

He pulled you close to him and hummed softly along to the words as he wrapped his arms around your waist once more and softly swayed you along to the music.

You draped your arms around his neck and wordlessly grinned up at the man who seemed just as happy as you to be dancing along to the song that had grown to have so much meaning to the two of you.

Catching you off guard, Jake lifted an arm, encouraging you to do a little twirl in the tight space of your apartment dance floor, and twirl you did, returning to him with a giggle as his ever passionate eyes locked on yours, as if you were the only person in the entire world.

You held on tight to Jake once more, heart (and body) practically melting as he sang the last few lines of the song to you, maintaining that intense, yet adoring eye contact before he leaned down once more to give you a soft, tender kiss.

Jake stepped on your foot a few times, and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t catch your own on his, but standing in your kitchen, swaying along to your song, there was no place on Earth that you’d rather be.

—

There were only so many times that you could playfully tell one another that you didn’t smell the best until you finally had to do something about it, so it was no surprise when you and Jake ended up in the shower together, somewhere between comfortably and uncomfortably cramped between the tile of the wall and the flimsy curtain.

Showering together had become yet another staple in your Sunday routine—something about saving energy and money on a water bill, or maximizing your time together. In reality, you knew there was nothing Jake looked forward to more than the intimacy of something as simple as a joint shower… and the promise of a thorough scalp massage just happened to be a bonus.

You lathered up your hands in your favorite lavender body wash and gently massaged the suds into Jake’s back, smiling to yourself when he unconsciously let out the sigh and tension that his body had been holding onto.

“When are you gonna let me take you out to get a real massage?” you asked, running your hands up to his slowly untenseing shoulders.

“Never. You do a good enough job,” you could practically hear the bliss in his voice as you both cleaned and kneaded his back.

“While I appreciate the flattery, I promise you that once a professional gives you one, you’ll never go back,” you lightly ran your nails down his back before passing off the body wash for him to take care of the rest of himself while you worked on shampooing his hair.

“You’re perfectly adequate enough for me,” he countered as you rubbed the product into his scalp. “And if you keep that up, I’m going to fall asleep.”

“Hey! You’re not allowed to fall asleep before you lather me up. Those are the shower rules,” you paused from your scalp massaging to peek around Jake’s torso, and didn’t miss the slightly too relaxed expression on his face. “I’m serious, Jake. I’ll make the water freezing cold right now if I must.”

“Fine, fine. Turn around,” he ordered, voice slightly more alert from the new threat of a cold shower. You gladly followed his direction, pleasantly humming to yourself as Jake rubbed soothing suds onto your body.

“Stop, you know I’m ticklish there!” you laughed, attempting to slap away your partner’s hand as he unnecessarily emphasized rubbing on your neck. Jake’s laughter joined with yours, the sound of your shared giggling filling up the room. “You have one more strike, Jake Lockley,” you threatened emptily.

“Yeah? Or what?”

“Or you’ll be showering alone for the rest of your life,” you snapped back, suddenly reaching for the sides of his torso, eliciting a mixture of Spanish curses and laughter as you tickled him back in his most vulnerable spot.

“Okay, okay, I get it, we’re even now,” he wheezed out, grabbing your hands to stop you. “I don’t even know if I want to shower with you anymore.”

“I don’t believe that coming from the biggest shower sap in the entire universe,” you looked up at him expectantly, using your joined hands to wipe out some of the water in your eyes. “You come here every weekend practically begging for a shower and massage.”

“Fine, you got me there.” Jake conceded. “It’s time for you to rinse, though. I’m starting to prune up.”

You nodded in agreement before awkwardly shuffling around so you could rinse yourself off at a somewhat better angle, and you cringed at the heat. “I’ll never understand why you need it so hot. Are you trying to boil us to death?”

“Hey, I just like my showers hot,” he defended. “But I guess dying with you is my ideal way to go.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to lightly hit his chest. “You are something else.”

—

“One day we’re gonna move into a place with two sinks,” you mumbled against the toothbrush in your mouth. “I can’t go much longer like this,” you glanced up at Jake in the mirror, fighting laughter as you peered at his foamy mouth and ridiculous appearance with just his waist wrapped in a towel.

“Why? You don’t like being close like this?” Jake asked, gently bumping his hip against yours and smirking at you through the mirror.

“Something like that,” you muttered back, spitting out the remaining toothpaste and reaching across your countertop to grab a roll of floss.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” Jake asked after a beat as he watched you quietly floss your teeth.

You shrugged cavalierly, but the heat practically radiating off of you betrayed your true feelings on the matter, and it certainly didn’t help that Jake was standing so close to you. The truth of the matter was that you would love to move with him, maybe go upstate and have a pet and a garden, and eventually even children—but for now you were just enjoying your Sunday with the man you loved in a bathroom that was far too cramped to comfortably brush, let alone floss your teeth—and that was plenty for you.

Besides, Jake knew what you really wanted regardless of what you did or didn’t say.

—

Rain lightly pelted against the living room windows, a soft soundtrack of serenity that contrasted awfully well with the overdramatic reality show playing out on the television while Jake laid against your chest, half-lidded eyes falling closed every now and then as you ran your fingers through his curls and occasionally scratched his scalp.

“This is just ridiculous,” you murmured, glancing down at Jake as you aimed your commentary toward him. “Can you believe they’re doing all of this for fucking Flavor Flav?”

Jake grunted out a sound of agreement, not really processing anything you’d just said as he was clearly much more interested in being spooned and having his hair played with than the trashy television playing in front of you.

“Having a good time?” you asked with a cheeky grin, obviously picking up on his distraction.

“With you? Always,” he hummed. “I’m not having a good time with Pumpkin, though. She needs to leave New York alone.”

“Right?!” you laughed. “You just get it. I’m glad I have you to indulge me in my shitty shows.”

“I feel like you’re indulging me. These have always been a guilty pleasure of mine,” he confessed.

“Really?” you asked with raised brows. “I never would have guessed. Really! I’m not being sarcastic or anything.”

“I guess our terrible television taste makes us the perfect pair,” he suggested.

“Yeah, just our television taste,” you retorted, amusement ever present in your voice.

—-

While your local grocery store was no farmers market, it was nice to grab a few pantry staples for the week at a much more understandable price. It also just so happened that you had an extra pair of hands and an Uber driver to assist you during your weekly trip.

You happily strolled through aisles, tossing whatever looked right into the basket that Jake was faithfully following you around with through the store.

“You’re doing a great job sticking to your list,” Jake teased as you checked off pasta from your list after tossing various other grains that were not exactly pasta into your basket.

“Thank you,” you gave him a tight smile. “Y’know, it didn’t always used to be like this.”

“Really? Tell me more,” you gave the back of the cart a little tug to let him know that you were on the move once more.

“Alright, once upon a time, long, long ago, only one person lived in my home for all seven days a week—me,” you continued to guide him to a checkout lane. “But then, one day, a man, a very handsome and lovable one, ended up essentially moving in for two of those seven days. And my pantry could no longer keep up with those two mouths. Especially when the handsome dork thinks that finding a bunch of ingredients and cooking together is the ideal date.”

“Is it not?” Jake asked, setting one of the fully checked out and packed bags into your cart. “I understand now. I’ll never question you ever again.”

“Stop,” you laughed, grabbing the next bag from the cashier. “You don’t have to stop questioning me, you just have to stop judging me.”

“I’m never judging you! Just making observations.”

“You’ve done enough damage today. There’s no coming back from the things you’ve said in the walls of this store.”

—

Sundays were a day of domestic chores, which meant laundry, and ever since Jake started staying with you more often— a lot of it.

You were fortunate enough to have your own washer and dryer in a practically microscopic closet next to your kitchen, meaning that you had a more than ideal view of Jake working on your next meal as you fidgeted with the settings on your washing machine.

You attempted not to pay him too much mind as you moved one load of clothes into the dryer, but the very obvious scent of burning herbs was too much to ignore.

“What’cha doin’ Jake?” you questioned, wandering over to him as he peered into the oven.

He looked back at you and gave you a guilty half-smile, eyes shifting back to the mystery item in the oven. “Just admiring the view.”

“The oven view?” you asked, already slipping on a mit and maneuvering yourself in front of the appliance.

“The you view, pretty girl,” he attempted, knowing that neither of you were buying his words.

“Mhm. You’re a cute liar,” you laughed, opening the oven and coughing as a mixture of steam and the stench of a burnt item hit your nose.

—

“Come run another errand with me,” you asked as you finished folding up the last of your laundry. Jake peeked out from the closet and raised a curious brow at you.

“What’re we doing?” he questioned, hooking one last piece of clothing onto the valet rod before flopping onto his back atop your bed.

“It’s a surprise,” you sat down on your knees next to him and leaned over his face.

“I’m scared,” he countered, the dopey, lovesick smile on his face not matching his comment at all.

“Trust me,” you reached down and grabbed his hand, giving it a little squeeze. “It’ll be fun. It’s just a surprise. You trust me, right?”

“I do, but when you keep bringing up trust it makes me not want to trust you,” he laughed.

“Fine. Don’t trust me. Just trust that you’re gonna have a good time.”

“Hey! I never said I don’t trust you! I would trust you with my life, and even more.”

“I’m convinced you really will never grow out of being a lovesick sap,” you teased, pushing down that warm and fuzzy feeling in your stomach in favor of nuzzling his nose.

—

“I love when you drive my car,” Jake commented as you parked in a spot of the mystery location.

You really didn’t drive too often, only when you had a secret date you’d planned that you didn’t want to have spoiled by Google Maps. Other than that, Jake practically insisted on being your chauffeur, even when it came to mundane tasks, like a trip to the hair salon on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Stop being sarcastic,” you scolded, your tone not matching the silly smile you shot Jake.

“I’m not! It’s very endearing,” he countered, grabbing his wallet from the center console. “So what is this mystery errand?”

“We’re at a night market! They have a bunch of vendors selling neat things they made, and a ton of street food, since lunch was kinda a flop.”

“So it’s like the farmer’s market?”

“Yeah, but at night. So it’s different.”

“Sounds different and fun,” he concurred. “What are the odds we’ll need an umbrella at this market?”

“Slim to none, since it stopped raining hours ago. But we will be outside.”

“It stopped raining hours ago, but the sky looks ominous as hell right now.”

“It’s only like that because it’s late. And because of pollution.”

“Mhm, sure.”

“I’ll bet you that it doesn’t rain.”

“And what do I get when I win this bet?”

“Prizes are to be determined. But don’t hold your breath. There will be no rain.”

“I’m sure,” Jake nodded as he reached into his backseat to grab an umbrella. “Just in case.”

“You won’t need it, but okay. Come on,” you popped out of the car, hurried around the front, and opened Jake’s door for him as well. “M’lady.”

“Keeping chivalry alive as always,” he mused as he slipped out of the car.

Jake slipped his hand into yours and you gladly wove your fingers together—a comforting and familiar motion that seemed to warm you up from the inside out— before you led him into the entrance of the market.

It started with one droplet hitting your cheek as you stood in line to pick up bao that was allegedly the best in town, then another, and suddenly it was as if all hell broke loose from the heavens above. You both glanced up at the sky in a synchronized act, then back down at each other.

In one quick moment, Jake had popped open the umbrella and held it over both of your heads before too much rain had the opportunity to drench the two of you.

“Start thinking of what I’ll get for winning our little bet,” he goaded, shifting the umbrella slightly further over to you to ensure that you wouldn’t get too wet.

“It seems like you’re already having enough fun with bragging rights that you really don’t need a reward,” you shot back, moving in closer to him to attempt to avoid getting too wet, as it turned out that the umbrella was not quite big enough for two people.

“I’ll gladly take your permission to bring this up at every opportunity I get,” Jake continued on, perking up when your names were called with food. “Why don’t you go find us seating and I’ll grab our food? You can take the umbrella.”

You nodded, taking the umbrella and briefly basking in only being a little wet before hurrying off to find a seating area with some kind of roof.

After searching a good amount, you stumbled upon a little tent with only a few people scattered about, sitting at various different tables. It wasn’t too long before Jake showed up in the tent, lifting up one of the little paper trays as if he were waving at you with it. You could’ve sworn that man had a sixth sense for where you were located, but you weren’t particularly mad about it.

Your partner walked up to you, pretty much drenched from the less than pleasant weather. He sighed out something that seemed like relief as he sat down next to you, passed you your similarly damp food and wasted no time getting straight to business.

“This is really good,” Jake commented between ravenous bites. “Here, try mine,” he held up his bao to you and you took a bite, humming pleasantly at its flavor.

“Okay, okay, try mine,” you held one of yours up to his face, and didn’t miss that his eyes lit up after taking a little bite. “Wanna swap?”

He gave you a smile that said a thousand words, and you gladly switched the paper trays in front of you. “You know me so well,” Jake hummed, extremely content as he finished off your order.

As you sat, the cold wind and a stray drizzle of rain continued to batter you, despite you being under the overhead safety of a tent. You couldn’t help but shiver as you and Jake played Words with Friends, attempting to wait out the rain.

“Are you cold?” he asked, wrapping an arm around your hip and pulling you closer to his side in an attempt to share some of his warmth.

Jake’s observance was both a blessing and a curse. Sure, you were shivering a little, but it really wasn’t that bad. And since you were showing any sign of discomfort, you had a feeling you knew the direction of this conversation.

“I’m okay,” you dismissed.

“No,” he countered stubbornly, already shrugging off the shoulders of his jacket in preparation of draping it around you.

“Jake,” you whined.

“No, really. I was overheating. You feel the heat radiating off of me, right? Why not share some of the heat with my girl?”

There was no other protest you could make, as Jake was already slipping his surprisingly warm jacket around you.

A few rounds of your game and facetious arguments later, the rain still hadn’t cleared up. You were usually quite patient, but the thought of getting out of your wet clothes and laying in your warm bed was far too exciting of a prospect to stay under the shelter for one minute longer than you needed to.

“Think we should just brave it?” Jake asked as if he could read your mind.

“Please. I was literally about to ask you the same thing,” you both were already getting out from your seats as you spoke.

“What’s our plan here? Duck and run?” Jake asked, already popping the umbrella back up.

“I think so. And my honest opinion is that the umbrella is only going to slow us down. We need to raw it.”

“Ew,” he cringed at your word choice, and began to fold the umbrella back down. “But you’re right about it slowing us down. Okay, let’s go.”

You two looked at each other and took a dramatic deep breath before grabbing one another’s hand and rushing out from under the tent.

You had an idea of just how ridiculous the two of you must’ve looked, holding hands and running in the rain as an umbrella dangled off of your wrist, but you would be lying if you didn’t admit just how fun it was.

It was surprisingly easy to find your vehicle, but before you could slip into the passenger side, Jake grabbed you by your waist and pulled you into a rather dramatic and surprisingly passionate kiss.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” he gasped breathlessly, winded from both running and kissing you so intensely.

“Rom-com kiss? I think we can both cross that off of our bucket lists,” you giggled, pecking his lips once more before getting into the car.

“That was fun. We should do it again sometime,” Jake chimed as he sat down next to you, immediately blasting the heat in the car.

“I think we have different definitions of fun,” you panted.

—-

It was a miracle that Jake had managed to stay over so long, usually opting to leave your apartment sometime in the evening with a gentle kiss and a promise to be back the following weekend. But not tonight. Following a second shower together—the result of getting so damp at the night market—Jake followed you to bed and laid on his side as he watched you get a book out and try to relax your mind enough to fall asleep.

You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t love when he decided to stay over an extra night, or that you didn’t love when he got into one of his ‘lost puppy dog’ moods where all he wanted to do was follow you around and be close to you. Hence, why you didn’t comment on him laying his head on your stomach while you attempted to read, despite the action distracting you every time you noticed the heap of wet curls sticking out from the top of your book.

“Would you marry me someday?” he asked out of the blue, looking up at you from where his head was resting on your stomach.

You would be taken aback, but it wasn’t the first time one of you pulled out a future card after a long day of domestic bliss.

“What do you think?” you asked, setting your book down on your bedside table.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you,” the earnest look on his face telling you that he genuinely was curious—if not a little concerned—about what your answer would be.

“We’re practically a married couple already,” you slipped your hands down to cup his face. “Some of my friends think we’ve been engaged for months. I’ve received texts asking why they haven’t been invited to the ceremony.”

You both chuckle at that, Jake’s sounding slightly more nervous than your own. You rubbed at his forehead gently with your thumb, as if you could wipe away his worry lines.

“Please don’t look so anxious. I will marry you someday. Hell, if you proposed to me right now, I would find a minister online and marry you in this bed at this very moment. How else are we gonna have two and a half kids, a few cats and dogs, and a garden full of meaningful flowers in our suburban upstate home?”

“We could be lifelong partners…?”

“Shh,” you cooed before beckoning him closer to you. “C’mere.”

Jake readjusted himself so he could properly spoon you, giving you a second to hit your bedside lamp before wrapping his arms and body around you.

“That wasn’t you proposing to me, was it?” you asked, your hands finding his as you cuddled.

“No! No. I just wanted to gauge how you feel about me.”

“You really think I would say no to marrying you?”

“Possibly.”

“Jake!”

“I just come with a lot of baggage, you know? Seeing each other is one thing, but marriage?”

You rolled over a bit awkwardly so you could properly face the man. “I would spend the rest of my life with you if you had three eyes, a tail, and were the owner of the baggage factory. We all have our things. I don’t love you any less because of it.”

Jake sighed, and you weren’t quite sure whether it was a sigh of relief or surrender.

“It’s true. Really. You need to worry less about whether or not I’d say yes, and worry more about how you’re gonna propose. I love you, but asking to get married while I’m trying to read before bed isn’t gonna cut it. I might end up thinking it’s a dream.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe even add it to my proposal notebook.”

“You have a notebook on how you’re gonna propose to me?”

“Maybe…” he drew the word out.

“You are so…” you broke out into laughter. “I don’t even know. I just adore you.”

“Would it be redundant to say that I adore you?”

“Maybe a little bit. But I wanna hear it anyway.”

“I adore you. I truly love you to the moon and back,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Mm, music to my ears,” you yawned sleepily. “I love you too. Sweet dreams.”

“With you? Always.”

#jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockely x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight

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dreampearls · 6 months

Text

thoughts on tha archon quest

prefacing this with a disclaimer that i watched a playthrough instead of actually playing the quest myself, meaning i missed a lot of in world interaction and open map exploration/lore/immersion that would have usually accompaned my overall impression of an archon quest. also i watched in eng dub which i kind of despise so that definitely affected my impressions of the cast

it was fun!

no huge complaints other than genshin typical pacing really dragging out certain segments but otherwise it was more or less successful at engaging me LOL if albeit kinda predictable or painful to sit through at times

furina :•)

i like her thing, idrk much abt the cultural/religious influences of fontaine beyond the obv french naming scheme but what w the whole mention of The Original Sin + a god manifesting themselves as flesh and blood to live amongst humanity + eventually executing themself in order to absolve all their people of that original sin. i think it could have stood to use more blatantly obvious christian iconography in the quest itself. like apples. or maybe they could have crucified her. just for funsies

are there any crosses in fontaine or does venti have a monopoly on that

that being said i think it would have been fun narratively if they hadnt made it so painfully obvious that furina was putting on an act/horrifically overcompensating for being the archon. like it would have been cool if her act was genuinely narratively convincing for at least the first half. the twist that she (technically) wasnt the archon/(more accurately Divine) would have hit harder but i can appreciate the angle they went for. idk i think its fun to see an archon that for once is kind of completely seemingly incompetent. a loss for feminism but a win for girlfailures all around the world

i saw someone else say this and i have to agree the deal w the whale did feel a bit tacked on at the end LOL... it didnt really feel as well integrated into the prophecy thing but eh

how is childe. does anyone care. actually no

clorinde navia "oh are you wearing a new lipstick?" "yeah, want to try" KILL MEEEEEEEEEEEE

have not seen furinas story quest yet but what are the mechanics behjnd her (assumedly) gaining a hydro vision when focalors' whole deal was sacrificing herself precisely to destroy the throne of the hydro archon, presumably preventing another hydro archon from ever ascending. wh... i guess im just missing something or otherwise misunderstanding what "destroying the throne" entails

STILL IT KIND OF FEELS LIKE AN INSULT TO HER CHARACTER CONCEPTUALLY NGL like she spent centuries parading around desperately as the hydro archon and when she finally breaks free of the curse celestias like.... "oh btw youre actually really cool now and we've decided u can become the archon for realsies" i think i would kill

on one hand, i do recognize how the visions function as a narrative device for self actualization and realize its only a fitting way to conclude her arc, but on the other, as signs of acknowledgement from celestia marking an individual as eligible for godhood, it does feel very incongruent with furinas whole thing

on that notd i feel similarly abt wanderer LOL like okay ignore how logically they need a vision for gameplay mechanics like just narratively it doesnt cohere to me... sniffles...

small detail i like how the focalors/furina divide was foreshadowed by the fact that for every previous archon theyve been consistently only referred to as their "real"/chosen/"human"(in a sense) name by those closest to them, whereas all of their subjects would refer to them by archon name or otherwise (lord barbatos, morax, lesser lord kusanali, etc etc) but nobody has ever called the hydro archon focalors or any equivalent, it was only ever her human/chosen name lady furina

this quest had a Lot of Telling instead of Showing and i physically groaned each time they had to spell something out loud instead of just having the audience put together the (already incredibly obvious) narrative pieces but id say this is a writing problem w genshin as a whole and not exclusive to fontaine

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inkykeiji · 25 days

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not sure if this helps but i just read this a few days ago..

https://www.tumblr.com/moodyvoid/746788409535791104/tomura-promising-to-protect-his-leagues-ideals

i totally agree with you tho!! this is so fucking annoying i hate the way they are moving forward with his character!!!! :c

bnha manga spoilers + clari going on a huge rant that is very much tainted by extremely intense and deeply personal emotions

it does not help, but i appreciate you sharing it with me anyway anon <33 thank you for trying to help me feel a little better, genuinely, i really do appreciate it so much!

ugh. ‘his league’s ideals’ aren’t even his own ideals. his entire life has been a lie—was he really a victim of hero society, ever? would he have been a victim of hero society, and especially in the way dabi and toga and twice and spinner were, had he not been given decay? had he been able to completely live out his life normally, without any interference from afo (completely ignoring the fact that, apparently, he wouldn’t even exist without afo and his meddling)?

he’s a fraud. he shouldn’t be the leader of the league. he IS a victim, yes. a victim of a villain, a victim of his abusive father who hated heroes, who is probably more of a victim of hero society than tenko ever would’ve been—so at least there’s that indirect link. but to me, and this is purely my own personal opinion, having decay not be his natural quirk takes so much away from him as a character. i interpreted quirks as a metaphor for undesirable qualities that normal society shuns. as such, having decay be his original, natural quirk, to me, made him a much more fascinating and complex and MESSY character. now he feels one dimensional and boring. all of his ‘decisions’ were tainted by what he thought was true—but none of it actually came from within him, at all, ever. not even a sliver of it. can we even say ‘that was all him’ when we know that the basis for all of those decisions is entirely built on lies and deceit? when literally everything tomura knows, and stands for, and believes, has been built on a lie? when it was all done BECAUSE of the ideals and opinions implanted within him, that don’t have a single hint of truth to them and don’t actually pertain to him or who he would’ve been and what he would’ve suffered at all? i think he genuinely cares for the league, yes. i think he genuinely likes video games, yes. but the reasons and motivating factors behind those decisions are ???????????

i just feel like it would’ve been so much more impactful and sinister for afo to intentionally seek out a child who he KNEW had a quirk that would be shunned and would alienate him from society regardless and then use that trait as a tool to manipulate the child and mold tomura into exactly what he wanted, than to just completely engineer the entire thing from the very start. this single change in detail suddenly alleviates tomura of all responsibility, which makes him feel really flat from a character standpoint. sure, tenko has a great heart or whatever, but i personally am not interested in that. i liked the moral greyness of the league. i liked what they stood for. tomura/tenko having this pure heart within him, or this capacity for a pure heart (ie making these choices to care for and save his little jigsaw of a found family), while also struggling against the shackles society would’ve imposed on him for being born with such a quirk, and the real anger and hatred he would’ve felt because of that, is soooo much more interesting (and relatable!) than tenko just being, what, a decent person? idk.

in other words, none of tomura’s ‘decisions’ hold any weight. obviously, tomura has been groomed and manipulated by afo since he was very young—most of his ideals and opinions were shaped by and influenced by afo. but at least if decay had been his own quirk, there would’ve been a kernel of truth there. that’s all i wanted. just that one kernel of truth.

anyway, sorry i just used your ask to vent and cry about it HAHAHA. i hope i’m explaining myself sufficiently and that my ideas are being expressed adequately and clearly. honestly, i’m having trouble fully articulating myself and why i am so insanely upset over all of this, but in a nutshell these are my thoughts. i feel like i could write an entire essay on why this decision sucks so bad LMAO. sure, his story is tragic. but it also feels really meaningless.

who knows, maybe the manga will make me eat my words, and something great will happen, and i truly hope it does!!! i hope it renders everything i’ve said here completely untrue! but we will see what happens,,,

#i just have to laugh #like at this point there’s nothing else for me to do but laugh maniacally #i’ll start crying if i don’t #also wasn’t it technically afo’s idea to form the league???????????#pretty sure tomura didn’t make that decision entirely on his own either #anyway genuinely i am so sorry i just spewed this all over ur ask LMAO #i'm just so !!!!!!!!!!!!! upset and heartbroken and furious #tomura + the league meant so much to me and this tiny change in detail makes everything feel totally meaningless #obvious disclaimer that these are my own personal opinions and i can agree to disagree with a good chunk of the fandom #i hope u have a lovely friday anon!!!#pls be safe n drink ur water okay!! <3 #inky.bb #clari gets mail

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kuwajima · 10 months

Note

42, 23, 3! for the fic asks! >:3

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Insulting Zenitsu's appearance somehow shows up in, like, every single chapter I write. I swear I like him! I just also think he looks like a snot-covered rat........

I really like adding flower language as an underlying theme, because I find it really interesting. Actually a ton of minor things in my fics are secretly symbolic because I love doing research. I also love adding little clues/Easter eggs in my fic that don't show up again for chapters. Pretty much every detail in my fics are very intentional.

I also love switching up who the focus of each chapter is, or even mid-chapter and take on that subject's inner monologuing even though I write in the third person. idk if that's even a trope or something, I don't know anything about literature lol.

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

I would love to do a modern AU for kny but I think I will stress myself out with the insignificant details. I may or may not have already tried to research the foster care system in Japan...

I also toyed with the idea of some kind of horror genre fic (my favorite book genre) but I don't think I can write convincing gore

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

Honestly I love all comments on my fics! I do really appreciate when people pull out lines they like though or if they try to predict what happens next.

Once of the first comments I ever received on Try really stands out because the commenter was so sweet and really made me feel so excited about writing because it was my first fic ever. And they immediately commented when I posted the second chapter (which I didn't even plan on, the fic was originally a one-shot) and idk!! they were just so nice!!

#fic talk

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waterchestnut123 · 1 year

Note

Hello, I know you have been asked this before but when are we going to see an update for your stories in AO3?

Thank you!

Hi Anon!

Very soon! I've actually got something nice planned for later this month.

I've talked about this a bit over on my main blog, but I went through a major move in the summer (whooo boy talk about doing Too Much at Once), and then as soon as I got settled launched straight into busy season at work. So I've have had fuck all time to do... anything, really.

However! My partner and I finally having our own private apartment has given me a tremendous boost in organization and creative capacity. I actually started writing a new LawNa multichapter fic last week! A concise little 5 chapter slow-burn-done-quick. I'm hoping to finish and publish around Thanksgiving! Maybe a little after, we'll see. Before December in any case.

I'm hoping to make some headway on To Catch a Turtle Dove this month as well. Winter gives me Big TCaTD Vibes, and particularly as the next several chapters of the story revolve around Christmas I'm hoping to get some chapters published in December if I can wrangle it!

(no promises tho--IDK how heavy work will be after Thanksgiving, so it's kind of touch-and-go.)

Anyway, I know that's probably a very hedgy answer, but coming around to the first point: You'll see some AO3 updates from me soon!

In the mean time, please enjoy this snippet from the piece I'm working on rn!

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Excerpt from Chapter 1 of "Heart Stealer"

Law was a focused man—a man of ambition and vision; determination and follow-through. He had one goal in life, one impossible, spectacular goal: kill Doflamingo, and get revenge for Corazon. After years of scheming and planning and exploration of method, he had come to accept he would not live a long life. It was an easy acceptance—an old habit dying hard, maybe; but he just couldn’t see himself surviving that goal, and he was too bound and determined to achieve it to consider a life path with a higher life expectancy.

But then he met Mugiwara; allied with Mugiwara and his crew. And… he did it—achieved his dream. They defeated Doflamingo, tore down his empire, and scattered his crew. Maybe the man wasn’t dead, but he was rotting at the bottom of impel down bound in miles of seastone chains and that was frankly the next best thing.

And suddenly Law had a whole life spreading out before him to consider. Again. New potentials, new goals, new opportunities at his fingertips. Perhaps such newfound perspective was when she first really caught his eye.

They were out at sea, heading to Zou, and she was leaning against the railing beside her trees. She wore boots and a short white sweater dress that hugged her figure in all the right ways; yet despite the overt sensuality of her attire, she conveyed an oddly demure and gentle impression. They had been skirting some winter islands and the temperature had dropped. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, yet she seemed unbothered as she gazed out to sea with the most calm and tranquil gaze he can remember ever seeing on a person. Her eyes were soft, just a quirk of a smile playing about her lips. Hair blew about her face in the breeze and she tucked wayward strands casually behind her ear.

He isn’t sure quite why he remembers her in that moment with such detail, but he does. Perhaps because it was the first time he ever looked at her—really looked at her. Saw her.

She glanced his way, then. Gave him a smile and a playful tilt of her head. But before he could respond, very suddenly, her demeanor changed completely.

She stood upright, shoulders tense, eyes sharp and alert and lips pressed into a thin line. She sniffed the air; licked a finger and held it at shoulder level. Then, with an authority he’d seen her use many times but had never really appreciated, she ran to the front railing and began barking orders to her crew.

“A hurricane is coming! All hands on deck! Raise the sails! Franky—turn the ship thirty degrees starboard! LUFFY STOP BOUNCING AROUND AND UNFURL THE SAIL!”

The sky was blue with but a smattering of fluffy clouds, the wind calm and sea smooth. No signs of trouble could be seen on the horizon. Law was a bit baffled at first; even moreso as her crew set about following her orders without question. Despite how long they’d been allied, he didn’t actually know much about her, aside from the fact that she had sticky fingers and served as Mugiwara’s navigator. He had seen very little of her fighting skill on Punk Hazard, and she’d taken the sunny and left Dressrosa to keep Momonosuke and Cesar out of Doflamingo’s hands, further robbing him of an opportunity to assess her. Their chance meet up at sea on the way to Zou was really the first he’d spent any significant time with her. Up until now, all he’d really seen her do was sunbathe, tease the cook, and tend to her citrus trees.

“Nami-ya,” he interjected as she shouted threats of bodily harm at her captain, “The skies are completely clear—are you sure a hurricane is coming?”

She looked to him then, hand on her hip with all the confidence, authority, and annoyance of a woman who had been doubted many times before—and been proven right time and again. “Of course I’m sure! It will form to the southeast, moving northward in a 30 degree arc toward our position. I would estimate we have…” she closed her eyes, concentrating, brow faintly furrowed. When her eyes popped open, they were bright and sharp and stunningly amber. “Five minutes until the clouds begin to condense, and seven before the rain begins to fall.”

Law stared at her, dumbstruck by her specificity—Bepo was certainly never able to predict New World weather conditions so precisely—but did not argue. When she ordered him to clear off the main deck, he did so without complaint; though he kept a precise timer running in his head, just to see, and it was to his stunned surprise that at exactly four minutes and twenty seven seconds he noticed clouds forming some fifty miles to the southeast, growing quickly and steadily to blot out the sun.

At ten minutes and six seconds, the eye of a massive storm struck what he estimated to be their prior position. Thanks to a Coup-de-Burst they were long gone, buoyed by strong storm winds, sailing quickly away from a nasty hurricane which shrunk ever more behind them.

His interest in her grew exponentially after that.

#update #ask #lawna #one piece #fanfiction

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musashi · 1 year

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1, 12, 30, 32, 42, 50 for the fic asks?

tysm!

What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

oooh thats hard and would depend on fandom too. maybe just chapter 1 of DTE? honestly i feel like DTE is me at my best i'd feel weird reccing anything else, but. its long x3

Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

nope! i've been the same forever.

Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

talked about this a little bit in a previous ask abt swallowtail :] but also, both my multichapters were WAY outside of my comfort zone. i did not think i had ONE complete multichapter in me, let alone TWO.

it just made me more cocky. i already genuinely believe i can do anything, but kicking so much ass at both of them really didn't help.

Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

one time i wrote a very short fic about franziska von karma snotting like a toddler all over her brother's fucking work desk while passionately denying that she was capable of catching a cold and @pictureswithboxes left me a review that said 'you made franziska von karma so gross in this fic' and i think to this day it's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. the fastest a comment has ever grown on me. idk how to explain this. idk how to explain why i loved it so much, its like

everyone compliments me on my tenderness. my caretaking. and its cool ig. but i don't think i'm good at writing that stuff, and it's not why i write sickfic. or like, it's not what i enjoy most about writing sickfic. my favourite part of writing sickfic is torture! obviously there has to be comfort or i dont enjoy the hurt, but i feel as though misery is what i write best. i am soooo good at writing low-level misery, itchy discomfort, little minute details. and i feel like most ppl focus on the other part. and im like, BUT DID YOU SEE THE MISERY?

and bailey's out here like yeah i saw it. if i was in that room w her i'd be spraying her with lysol. you made this hot lady a plague rat awesome job. one time this same mutual said something along the lines of "i wanna say i wanna eat this fic but i dont. its full of germs. im patting it gently, from far away, with gloves on, and disinfectant" ljsghsfhf

it's just nice to be seen for the craft i REALLY enjoy: giving hot girls messy headcolds. like yeah its cool that they get looked after. but did you see how disheveled i made them? <3

also just the complete lack of worry that i'd be offended by this comment, too. as i'm sure you all know i hate it when people are anxious/scared around me and try to butter me up with sweet/soft language. it makes me feel handled with kid gloves at best, and it makes me feel intimidating and scary at worst. having someone just boldly come into my comment box like "YOU MADE HER SO GROSS. THANK YOU" without a second thought about if i might find that phrasing indelicate, i was like oh my god please be my friend. i need to be friends with you or i'll die. speak my damn language some more i'm thriving. anyways this is now a bailey appreciation ask, sorry for party rocking.

not gonna answer 50 cause i dont do broad/nonspecific questions sghdfg

#wendy answers #Anonymous

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a-little-bit-of-ravioli · 2 years

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Rav, please answer the following, no exceptions

3, 5 for Hues of Magic (anything about the series is fair game), 11, 17, 30, and 42, I have no regrets

holy hylia you really aren't granting me any mercy jfkdjdjf FINE.

These got way too long to not put under a read more though, so here it is.

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Hmmm. Introspection, definitely, but idk if it counts as a trope per se. I have recently been told that my very intentional efforts to always give all the boys at least one moment in the spotlight, no matter how small, are noticeable, though! So that, probably. I'm also very partial to likening a traumatic event to the present happenings.

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!

You chose Hues of Magic! And hmm. I guess I'm always itching to elaborate on which specific glows mean what from Hyrule's pov, where they are from, and what the distinctive qualities between different types of auras and enchantments are, because I do think about those a lot! In Something Focused I basically went on a long diatribe over how I perceive Wars' magic to work, and if asked I could probably do that for most of them! But not every oneshot is meant to become a lecture like that one, so I won't lol

11. Are you partial to a certain character/pairing or are you more equal-opportunity? If you are partial to any character/pairing, why do you think that is?

This is unfair and you know it. I'm absolutely partial. Are you kidding? I grew up playing OoT/MM and TP -the Hero of Time might be my favourite character in all of fiction. I still play OoT on an almost weekly basis, in randomizer. And I have singlehandedly dragged people down into Warriors hell with me.

That said, like I mentioned earlier. I always, always make sure to involve the rest of the boys in the background (when it makes sense), instead of letting them fade into it. I'm really big on knowing what every present character does, so I lead by example!

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

I will cheat and put SSAU (Swapped Species AU, an AU where none of the boys are Hylian, but rather another race in accordance with their games) in here. Because while I'm not the only person enjoying it by a long shot, it was a huge team effort to create as much content for it as there is now. But I did put a ton of focus on everything around Guardian of Time!Wars and his relationship with Mask/Time and First. And I still get that giddy self-indlugant feeling whenever I think about or reread parts of it. So I'd say it counts!

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

I have! It was Whistle, actually, haha. When I started to write it the style was the complete opposite of what my default was. It was an amazing exercise and influenced how my style evolved into what it is now.

If we're talking more about topical comfort zones - I definitely find it harder to write pure fluff, just because the string of narrative is different compared to angsty stories - there is no big climactic event, no comfort at the end to resolve it. But I chose to write some rather fluffy fics for LUAAP 2021, and while I couldn't resist putting in a little angst in the middle parts, I think I succeeded! And enjoyed myself, too.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

I'm gonna cheat here, because this isn't a single comment, but a theme that went through a comment section. I made up an old mage with his own shop for Something Darker, to fill a role I needed for the plot to kick off. I gave him a couple quirks, little mage things I thought were fitting, as you do with a side character, and didn't think much of it compared to the rest of the fic.

Imagine my surprise when almost every single comment latched onto this guy! People were thinking about his biases and reaction, there were interested in his backstory, someone wrote an epilogue from his perspective in a comment (yes this is a link to that). Safe to say that is gonna stay with me. It was such an amazing thing for people to take this small detail in my writing and latch onto it more than I ever could've expected!

Phew. you better know I'm gonna flood you the same next time fhdkhejdjf

#linked universe #fic writer asks #rav rambles

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voidandradiance · 2 years

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hello! from the fic writer thingy; 1, 8, 9, 17, 25, 36, 37, 41 and 42 !!!

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

oh boy uh. for dsmp, by far, can i sleep in your house tonight or like i've never been are my strongest works. best foot forward, and all that.

for mianite, though... i love the karma series but it's a Lot, so maybe vintage misery or stars burn out. peak identity theft for both of them, tbh, but they're Good.

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

i've done most of the Splash Potion of Brainrot ones, but left on the list are:

the plagues from prince of egypt, 100 bad days by ajr, home to me by devil and the deep blue sea, thus always to tyrants by the oh hellos, dirty by grandson :)

9. How do you find new fic to read?

i subscribe to vav on ao3. and also scroll the wilbur soot character tag with dozens of excluded tags. and also read my friends' stuff.

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

my batshit insane tubbo- and andor-centric vigilianitee au, my fucking beloved. put those boys in situations. someone becomes a magical girl and i'm not telling you who.

25. What other websites or resources do you use most often when you write?

i have the mental illness transcription doc, which is roughly 80 pages of transcribed mianite dialogue written out in script format, and i reference that pretty often. i've also got a folder of about 725 screenshots of mianite references, so. yknow.

36. Do you visualize what you read/write?

....sometimes? i guess? i'm really fuckin bad at it when i do, but i end up sketching out reference maps or using screenshots bc my spacial awareness is a little bit Really Bad

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

all of my mianite fics.

nahhh as far as dsmp fics go, i have to say just give me a happy middle is one that i loved and most people didn't. it was just posted at a weird time, i think? idk. food as a metaphor for love.

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

THIS ONE. THIS ONE RIGHT HERE. it was the first one of vav's ao3 fics that i read, and i lost my fucking mind. the imagery. the detail. the pacing. the quilt. OUGH i wish i could fuckin Do That with words. i dont care if yall warch mianite or not i am telling you to read the fic

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

the tipping point for me becoming a wilbur main was zanna zannolin's comment on save the world. so. yes. anyone who leaves long detailed comments analyzing symbolism or easter eggs or characterization, i would already die for you, but that comment specifically is one of the things that got me to start writing wilbur-centric stuff as a whole. thanks king.

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tetrisfinished · 1 year

Text

i used to feel like being able to get my point across in a discussion was a point of pride for me. i used to want to talk and talk and talk until everyone else got the message.

i mean - i still feel this way for the most part.

but recently, i've started appreciating the resolve and sheer effort it takes to stay quiet about something. to zip my lips and just let my actions speak for themselves.

or more accurately for me, to zip my lips and then continue to do the things i want to do or i resolve to do out of spite.

admittedly, i have not been able to do this a lot. i want to. and in some instances it's incredibly easy to just stay quiet, let whatever is happening happen, and then move on with my life.

but in other cases, i want to reply back with an immense passion - the problem with this passion is, i almost always regret getting passionate about anything in front of anyone.

which is (ngl) ALSO problematic. because if i can't speak up for the things i am passionate about then WHAT CAN I DO!? but ultimately when it comes down to it, it's a matter of picking your battles i guess.

you pick the battles you deem worth your time. and i need to start doing that more.

like is it really worth it to try and explain to my in laws or literally anyone else who claims that my kid is too skinny or he's "kamzor" (fragile/unhealthy even)? this past weekend i chose to respond. but afterwards i again felt that same regret. why did i choose this battle? why did i not just smile and nod along? who really cares what anyone thinks?

on the flipside, i do believe that i'm entering a lifetime of "your kid is so skinny" remarks IN FRONT of my kid. and tbh i'm not interested in letting ESA believe he's "too skinny" or "too lean" or "too....xyz" ANYTHING.

my kid is thriving and healthy and happy and active reaching all his milestones on time. he's not a genius but he's not an idiot. he's my perfect average child and striving for average is good enough for me. if he wants to be greater and better when he grows up, that's a decision that he will make when it is his time to make it.

but setting this precedence of being quiet and letting anyone and everyone claim these things about my kids' physique and body...idk. it just doesn't sit well with me.

so while i do regret going into all the discussion and detail with my SiL this past weekend. i don't regret that i stood up for my kid. and i know i can't control anyone - the way they think or talk. but ultimately the hope is that they stop saying out loud these things in front of me (and more importantly esa). the last thing i want is to foster low self esteem in my home for my son. it's just not something i grew up with and it's not something i'm interested in getting started.

so. that's that.

much love,

-k

0 notes

refiwrites · 3 years

Note

bestie here me out: sean boswell

like i’m currently obsessed with the idea of him poorly attempting to get with some car designer (prob is hans right hand person, like does the paint jobs/detailing for almost everyone with decently deep pockets and common sense. is an insanely good racer but rather work on cars then race them. super respected by everyone because they don’t pick sides, they pick buyers.) who dislikes everyone. no ‘friends’, only business partners. can see them being really chill with neila because she’s into cars but not into the hardcore racing and stuff? twinkie calls them his best friend and they’re like *pulls out earbud* ‘do i know you’. like this totally closed off high schooler who probably works for the yakuza/has ties to it and sean’s like ‘yeah, that’s the one i want.’

sean: we all got demons, this ones mine

*pans to y/n screaming at someone who’s double their size to give them their money, and successfully gets it*

this isn’t as much of a request as its me ranting? you don’t have to right this at all if you don’t want i know it’s detailed. but like i feel this would be a hilarious dynamic. i’m a sucker for dumb man kickass partner duos. (idk hes the ‘drift king’ mans a himbo) have a great day/night!!!❤️❤️ - fatf anon

I've decided to make some headcannons about this! I love those dynamics 🤣 and hopefully I did this justice!

Sean Boswell x Reader

Warning/s: Swearing?

GIF not mine, credits to the original owner.

So we already know that Sean flew to Tokyo because he got in trouble with racing right

So cue him going to his first day of school in Tokyo

The school in which you're enrolled in as well

Let's say when Sean saw you, you were in the back of the class, head stuck in what seemed to be a sketchpad and barely paying attention to the teacher in front

And he found you interesting until he got called by the teacher since he was literally just standing there for a couple of minutes now??

This caught your attention and you both made eye contact

Which Sean felt like it would be nice to show you a smile

Only for you to shrug and go back to work

Definitely hurt Sean's ego about .5%

Alright let's skip to Sean's first night and Twinkie dragging him to the races

The two were talking when Sean spotted you beside Neela

Sean: Hey, dude, who's that beside Neela?

Twinkie: Oh, that's Y/N, also my best friend!

Sean felt another twinge of hope that he may get a chance to get close to you

But you raised your head up and caught the both of them again staring at you

Which you sent them a "what the hell is your problem?" look

And Sean felt that hope crumble again

After a few moments later, which included Sean totalling Han's Nissan Silvia in which YOU designed

You weren't too happy seeing the poor busted car try to make its way to the rooftop

Seeing Sean being the driver

You facepalming and wanting to tear your hair out at the sight

You faced Han, which was beside you and spoke "What the hell? I didn't spend sleepless nights to design that car for some asshat to wreck it like its some kind of toy!"

To which Han just chuckled and said "Don't worry, I'll get you another one to spend your nights on."

You were irritated and shot Sean a glare

It scared him

Days after, Sean decided to stay at Han's place

To his surprise, you were there too

Busy seeing if the design you made would suit the car you were working on

And Han beside you

He stood there watching you both, feeling a pang of jealousy hit him.. which he thought was dumb when Han placed a hand on your shoulder before walking over towards him

He shrugged it off and talked with Han

As the days flew by, Sean tried his best to atleast get to know you, trying to suggest design patterns, walking to your desk some nights just to bring you coffee

Half of you found his attempts nice since no one really did that for you while the other was annoyed that he wouldn't leave you on your own

Eventually, his friends seemed to have caught on his growing feelings for you

First one being Twinkie

When Han agreed to teach Sean drifting, you were also there

Sean made the mistake of deciding to show off

Aaaand accidentally popping off his tires

You with an amused look, smirk plastered on your face, you teased him "You call that drifting?"

He retorted, "Think you can do better?"

You rolled your eyes and decided to bring out your own Nissan 350z designed by yours truly

And decided to show him how its done

Let's just say Sean ate his words after that

Han and Twinkie were also amused since they were used to you accompanied by a sketchpad, forgetting that you were also one hell of a racer and a drifter

And now get ready since Sean will literally be with you 24/7 to ask for tips and tricks to do when drifting

And he hasn't forgotten about wanting to ask you out yet

And you slowly catching feelings for the boy

Twinkie constantly teasing Sean about you

You soon began to realize what was happening and you distanced yourself for a while from Sean

Since you weren't used to getting into relationships and your last relationship/s weren't exactly wonderful

Sean being worried and trying to contact you but it just sent him straight to voicemail

And you taking time off on Han's garage

But you come back a few days later

Sean feeling his heart leap out of his chest when he heard your voice again

This time he didn't hesitate

He asked you out

And you agreed

Fast forward a few months from now

You both were happily dating

You cheered him on whenever he raced

Him being with you when people take interest on your designs

Watching you intently when you have to stop yourself from shouting at your 6ft tall client

"Like I said, 25,000 bucks or you're free to get outta here."

Sean being amused when the client agrees

Being there when he became the new D.K

Him helping you when designing cars, saying words of encouragement and bringing you snacks and drinks from time to time

You kissing him on the cheek, sometines on the lips when he brings you food

Helping each other out about cars

Both of you drifting together

Drift dates!

But he still isn't able to beat you though

Spending quality time together when you both get some free time

Overall you were glad to have Sean in your life, and this also made you appreciate the people around you more

#sean boswell #sean boswell x reader #fast and furious x reader #fast and furious imagine #sean boswell imagines #lucas black #fast and furious

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butterflyyeo · 3 years

Text

jealous

pairing — han jisung x reader

genre — angst (?)

tw — slightly suggestive (?)

wc — 3035

a/n — yall idk wtf this is im trying my best to get better at writing angsty (???) stuff so im really sorry if this is absolute trash T^T. feedback is appreciated !!

———————————

you hadn't seen your brother, chan, for a long time, six months to be exact and of course you missed him dearly. when he called to tell you that he was coming home for a while you nearly cried of joy, however, the happiness faded when he mentioned that he'd be bringing his band mates, that meant changbin... and han jisung.

it wasn't exactly a secret that you didn't get along with jisung, and you never knew why. he always just irked you a bit, and on purpose too. it was constant bickering between the two of you, fortunately, chan and changbin had learnt to tolerate it. speaking of changbin, you actually quite liked him and he was rather fond of you too. chan knew this, in fact, chan saw all the underlying tension between you and the rest of 3racha. he was thankful that he was your brother, but he didn't have to intervene, he was fully aware that you could handle these things on your own. unless of course you asked for help, and in that case, he would go to war for you.

a sturdy knock hit the door a few times and you ran to the door, unlocking it.

"channie!!" you leaped onto him and hugged him tightly. he dropped his bags down to the floor just so he could hug you back. "i've missed you so much!" you said as you hopped down and picked up both of his bags.

he grinned, "i've missed you too, y/n."

your smile dropped almost instantly as you saw jisung leaning against the doorway, a smirk across his face that just made you want to slap him. faking a smile, you greeted changbin, "hey changbin! good to see you." he gave you a sincere nod and smile before picking up his suitcase. "now chan, shall i put these in the guest room?" you asked, chan was already going through the fridge, looking for food.

"mm." he mumbled. you took it as a yes and heaved his bags to the guest room, dumping them beside the bed. as you turned around to help changbin with his luggage, someone blocked your way.

"you didn't say hello to me?" jisung questioned, though, it sounded more like a statement.

huffing, you responded, "why would i?"

"because you love me," he said as he leaned in close. "and you missed me."

"you must be confused." you shrugged and pushed past him. that was too close for comfort. you thought as you walked out and picked up changbin's last bag.

"hey y/n," chan began, "what's for dinner?"

you sighed, "i'm gonna have to go shopping chan, i don't have enough food for all of you." you went to put your shoes on and a jacket too, since it was getting late and more chilly outside. "who wants to chauffeur me to the grocery store?" you joked.

"anything for you, my love." jisung said teasingly as he held his hand out to you.

"uh, i'd rather not." you swatted his hand away. "c'mon changbin, let's go!" you said while dragging changbin up from the sofa. he groaned, but honestly he didn't mind so much. he was just being a big baby.

the car trip was short and quiet, mainly because changbin was tired from all the travelling they had done to get to your house. plus, their schedule has been so full lately, they were lucky to have this time off.

wandering through isles, you began picking up ingredients and placing them intro a trolley.

"you really missed us?" changbin began, "me and chan of course..." he trailed off but a playful smile tugged at his lips.

"of course i am! jisung on the other hand..." you rolled your eyes, pushing the trolley along.

he chucked, "you really still hate each other? after all these years?"

you huffed, a little too obnoxiously, "yes. i do still hate him. and i'm sure he despises me too. i don't even know what it is... it's just... the way he treats me. he acts like he deserves my friendship, which he doesn't. it's something you earn."

"remind me to never piss you off." changbin laughed as he put a bag of chips in the trolley.

once you had everything you needed you put it through the register, changbin insisted he paid, since you were letting the three of them live with you.

shortly after you arrived home, you began cooking. while he wasn't the best, changbin offered to help as best he could. you actually thought it was really sweet. he passed you utensils, condiments and he even set the table.

meanwhile, chan was fast asleep in the guest room and jisung was showering in the provided ensuite. you turned to changbin and high fived him, "we're all done! i should wake up chan. you can start eating if you want." proud of his efforts, changbin sat down and began to eat.

gently pressing the door open to the guest room, you whispered, "chan? dinner is ready." you walked over to him and was about to softly shake him when jisung walked out of the bathroom, only a towel around his waist. his tousled wet hair dripped little drops of water down his chest and it was rather overwhelming to see him so exposed.

contrary to your thoughts, he couldn't care less, he enjoyed watching the way you panicked and blushed heavily. if this is what it takes. he thought.

"oh! um, jisung. i'm so sorry, i was just coming to tell chan that dinner is ready, i should've knocked or-" you blurted out in a quiet voice, weary of chan waking up.

jisung let out a low chuckle, "it's fine, y/n. i'll wake him up once i've dressed."

"thanks," you said as you went to leave, "wait... no snarky comment?" you puzzled.

he said nothing, just winked at you as you closed the door.

you joined changbin at the dinner table, sitting across from him. "how's the food?" you asked as you took a bite for yourself.

"y/n it's amazing! you're seriously a great cook. man, i wish i was this good." he said as he took a small bite of the spaghetti you had prepared.

at that moment, chan dawdled out the door and jisung closely behind. they joined you at the table and also began eating.

"don't worry about it binnie, i can teach you to cook, years of living on my own without chan seems to have payed off a bit." you joked.

"binnie?" jisung questioned the nickname you had given to changbin, whilst changbin sat there furiously blushing. he tried to hide it by lowering his head but that honestly seemed it give it away more.

"sounds cute." you shrugged, not thinking much of it.

chan cleared his throat, "okay so here's the plan for tomorrow," he began, taking another bite of spaghetti, "changbin and i have to go talk to JYP about an upcoming show we are doing, so we could be gone all day with that. there's lots to plan."

"wait a second, why am i not going? i'm apart of 3racha too." jisung stated.

changbin replied, "did you get the email from him?"

jisung shook his head, "well, no but-"

"then you're not coming." changbin grinned cheekily, knowing this upset jisung.

when everyone had finished with their meal, changbin stood up and collected all the dirty dishes, only to begin washing them in the sink. you quickly tried to stop him, "oh, changbin! don't worry i can do that." you said as you tried to take over, but he refused.

"no. you won't. dinner was great! you've done enough for today, if we are gonna be living here for the next few weeks then i might as well be of some use." he smiled at you before nodding to the tv, signalling for you to relax.

tired as ever, chan come over and kissed your head goodnight before going back to sleep. by now it was nearly 10pm, you had a late dinner but that was because they arrived later than expected.

you sat down on the sofa and began browsing movies. you decided to watch your favourite, even though you've seen it a million times. once he was finished with the dishes, changbin joined you on the sofa to watch the movie, you quickly filled him in on all the little details of the plot.

jisung was still sitting at the dinner table, scrolling through his phone, he was contemplating coming to join the two of you in watching the movie, but decided against it when he saw changbin put his arm around you. rolling his eyes and scoffing a little too loud, jisung stood up and went to the guest room he was sharing with chan. he tried his best not to slam the door but somehow that didn't happen.

"huh, wonder what's up with him?" changbin asked, looking at the door wide eyed. "i'll go check, sorry, i'll be back in a sec." he followed jisung into the guest room, you heard changbin quietly ask if he was okay.

what started as a whispered discussion soon became a hushed argument, you were worried that soon they would start yelling at each other. luckily chan was a deep sleeper, he also slept with earphones in, so you were pretty sure he wouldn't hear any of it.

the minutes passed and their quarreling continued, you debated going in there to try and make some peace but you decided against it, this seemed to be something personal between the two of them. instead, you switched off the tv and the lights, and went got ready for bed. as you were about to close your eyes you heard the jingle of keys and the sound of the door opening and closing. whoever it was, you knew they could take care of themselves, they were both adults and probably just needed some space.

when you woke up, it was around 7am. you quickly threw a hoodie on over your shirt, feeling a bit cold and walked into the living space to see changbin, sleeping softly on the sofa. it only just occurred to you that there wasn't enough beds for all of you in your current living situation.

you gently peeked into chan's room to see him sprawled out, sleeping a deep sleep. you smiled to yourself, knowing that he got all the sleep he deserved. the empty bed in the room didn't go unnoticed however.

it was jisung who left last night. and he didn't seem to be back yet.

slightly worried, you decided to cook up some bacon and eggs for when the boys woke up.

"morning y/n." you turned around to see changbin leaning against the kitchen counter.

you smiled, "morning! sorry if i woke you up, i'm just making some breakfast, you've probably got time to shower if you want to before you eat."

"serious? man, what did we do to deserve you?" changbin said looking at you sincerely.

you laughed lightly, "nothing, now go! and please wake chan up when you get out."

he just chuckled as he walked away and closed the guest room door behind him. you wondered if you should make enough breakfast for jisung, would he be back soon? if he wasn't, he could just re-heat it, you thought.

the last few pieces of bacon finished cooking so you begin buttering the toast, you made a lot knowing that chan has a big appetite and there was a good chance they wouldn't have time to eat today. your train of thought was interrupted once again by changbin.

"anything i can do to help?" he asked, he was dressed quite smartly, but you understood as he was going to console with JYP himself.

"nope! i'm just about done, plus, you wouldn't want to dirty your clothes," you said as you began serving breakfast.

"ah okay, i woke chan up, he wanted to have a shower so he shouldn't be too much longer." he said, "can i?" he asked, pointing to one of the cups of steaming hot coffee you set on the counter.

"of course!" you said. a question burned in the back of your mind and you wondered if you should ask or not. "uh, changbin..." you began.

changbin knew exactly what you were about to say, "he's okay, y/n. he just wanted some space." his eyes stared at the wall blankly. there was more to this than needing space.

"so.. why was he upset then? you guys had a pretty heated argument.."

changbin's eyes met yours, "i'm sorry you had to hear that." he took a sip of coffee, "we just had a bit of a disagreement, it happens all the time... you see, the thing is-"

"good morning to my favourite people!" chan said as he waltzed out of the guest room, also looking rather sharp.

you and changbin smiled at his enthusiasm, "morning!" the two of you chimed back.

"breakfast made? hot coffee? you seriously are the best sister in the world! it's like we're staying at a five star hotel." chan said picking up a mug of coffee.

you laughed, "i'm your only sister."

he shrugged, "still the best," he took a sip and hummed, looking around the room, "hey, where's jisung?"

"i don't know. i heard him leave last night." you said, placing two plates of food at the dinner table.

chan sent a red hot glare at changbin, knowing exactly why jisung would've stormed out. changbin looked away sheepishly.

"okay, well, breakfast is ready! eat up, you guys have a busy day." you said sitting down in front of a plate.

chan and changbin began discussing things for later with JYP, while you just sat their mindlessly eating your breakfast. you still couldn't help but wonder where jisung had went, and why he wasn't back yet.

you had completely zoned out and was just picking at the scraps of your plate when chan spoke, "well that was seriously great y/n! what a good way to start the day."

you smiled at your brother, "ah, it's the least i can do, maybe you could ask JYP if you can dedicate a song to me in return."

the three of you laughed and you began to clear up the plates while the boys finished getting ready. shortly after, they said their goodbyes and closed the front door behind them. although the door muffled his voice, you heard chan say to changbin, "you seriously fought over that again?"

you sighed to yourself, what were you going to do all day? you decided to finish cleaning up and have a shower.

you let the water run until it was warm before stepping in, you had to remember to be mindful because you often got carried away and distracted in the shower and lost track of time.

which is, exactly what happened, before you knew it you had been half an hour. shit, you thought. as you wrapped a towel around your body, you remembered jisung and how you saw a little too much of him after he showered. you blushed furiously just remembering it. that's when you realised that your feelings for changbin were just a deflection of the feelings you have for jisung. you're ridiculous, you thought. he hates you, despises you, enjoys making fun of you. you quickly ruled out the possibility of him ever returning the feeling and finished dressing.

you spent the day multitasking some of your studies while watching movie after movie, trying to be somewhat productive. your stomach suddenly growled and you checked the time, "must be time for lun-" you said aloud, "oh, it's 5pm." you laughed at your silly sense of time and how you had got carried away all day. but you soon frowned, 5pm and jisung still wasn't back?

since the boys weren't home you made yourself a light meal and sat at the dinner table alone, listening to some background music. it was actually quite relaxing. the evening golden sun shone through the window as you finished eating. you quickly began washing up your plate, when you heard the door creak open.

"oh, chan you're home! i just finished eating, but i can make something for you and changbin just give me a min-" but when you turned around to greet them, it wasn't chan or changbin. it was jisung. "jisung."

"are you gonna admit that you missed me this time? or do i have to leave for longer?" he smirked but you just sighed in relief. you hated to confess that you worried you wouldn't hear his stupid comments for a long while.

you spoke quietly, "of course i missed you. i was worried sick."

"oh? worried now?" he toyed.

"yes, worried! i heard you arguing with changbin and then you left!" you exclaimed.

his face turned away at the mention of changbin's name, "well sometimes changbin and i argue, it's normal."

you scoffed, "that's what he said."

"he told you?" jisung asked.

"no, he didn't tell me what you fought about, but it would seem that it isn't the first time because i heard chan scolding him after they left this morning." you admitted.

"they're not back?"

you shook your head, "nope," jisung looked away, "look, i just had dinner but is there anything you want?"

"yeah." he began.

"what would you like?" you asked.

"you." jisung said bluntly, catching you off guard. "and changbin wants you too."

it all made sense now. "oh, i, i see.." you said, quite taken aback. "jisung, it could ruin everything, we'd be playing with fire."

"i don't care, y/n." he said taking a few steps closer.

"but, chan is my brother." you said.

"he's my best friend." jisung countered, coming closer again.

"what about changbin?" you asked.

"he's also my best friend." at this point, jisung was standing face to face with you.

"hang on a second," you took a step back, hitting the counter, "i don't owe you anything." you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips.

he smirked, "but i owe you everything."

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