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hannieehaee · 6 months

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OVER MY HEAD

18+ / mdi

summary: moving out of state for college was a terrifying experience for most people. fortunately for you, you had your older brother wonwoo to guide you while there, and even better, his best friend mingyu.

content: brother'sbestfriend!mingyu, fratboy!mingyu, pining, friends to lovers, angst (only a little), reader's a chronic overthinker, slow burn, smut, f reader, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, wonwoo's kinda absent </3, crying (blame mingyu), etc.

wc: 15k

a/n: idk how frats work so im sorry for any inaccuracies T-T

cont.

masterlist | kofi/patreon

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Wonwoo was only ten years old when his parents decided he was old enough to venture out into his neighborhood alone, immediately wanting to seek his established group of friends from school to run amok, free of parental supervision. This was not without condition, however, as Wonwoo's swift exit was halted by his mother, a very small you in hand as you stared up at your brother.

Most boys would've groaned at their mother's insistence in including their little sister in their outings. Fortunately for you, your older brother Wonwoo was not like most boys. Being your elder by one year, Wonwoo had easily found a best friend in you, not caring for the looks of annoyance he received when he walked up to his friend's house with you in hand, ready to introduce his little sister to his group of friends. Whether the groans of annoyance ever peeved Wonwoo off or not, he never let it show. He tended to ignore any complaints that came from his friends over the years at the inclusion of a younger girl in every occasion. Despite the childish annoyance his friends had at your presence, Wonwoo didn't seem to care, continuing to indulge you as a friend more-so than just a sister as the both of you grew up. Had your mother not asked Wonwoo to include you that first time, you firmly believe Wonwoo would have still found a way to worm you into his social life. He was your best friend after all.

It went like this for years. Every friend group Wonwoo was a part of, every outing, every landmark in his life, you were always there. It was easy for you to befriend Wonwoo's friends over the years. As you both grew up, friends came and went, leaving you and Wonwoo to be one of the only constants in each other's lives. His friends were your friends, and vice versa. The more you grew up, the less new friends of his complained about your presence, having grown out of the 'girls are gross!' phases of their lives. However, there was always one anomaly. One outlier who never dared boo at your presence. And that was Kim Mingyu.

You had met Mingyu at the young age of 9 years old. That same day your brother first brought you along to meet his friends, with you shyly hiding behind his back as they all groaned at the intrusion of a little girl. ('I'm only one year younger', you had thought to yourself at the time). It was almost a chorus of complains, except for one silent voice. That of Kim Mingyu's. The small boy, aged 10, just like your brother, made it a point to step forward and stretch his hand towards yours, promptly introducing himself as Kim Mingyu, Wonwoo's best friend. At first that didn't sit right with you. What did he mean by Wonwoo's best friend? That was your title! Despite your initial childish annoyance, you didn't let it show. You were just excited to meet your brother's friends, feeling an extra bit of appreciation for the boy who welcomed you with open arms.

You kept meeting routinely after that. You'd begrudgingly attend school, being separated by gender during recess throughout all of elementary school, thus unable to hang out with your brother and his friends. And then you'd arrive home, ready to head out and play around with Wonwoo's crew. You grew together like this. Finally in middle school you were able to join Wonwoo's friends even at school. Despite being used to your presence, this still caused controversy among the boys, not wanting to sour their vibe with the presence of a pre-teen girl (But they were pre-teens too, you had thought). But once again, Mingyu welcomed you with open arms, having by now befriended you, and by then even forming a slight rivalry with you over the title of Wonwoo's best friend.

It went on like this until high school. By now, Wonwoo's various friend groups had dispersed with the passing of time. Some friends came and went, while some branched out to other people. The only constants were Wonwoo, Mingyu and, of course, you. You'd hang out with the tall duo every day, never really bothering to make friends of your own. You were not a loner nor a loser by any means; you did have friends, but you knew where your home was, and that was with your brother and his best friend. This is what made junior year of high school even more devastating for you. What was supposed to be a fun year, attending junior prom and preparing for senior year, was filled with isolation from your two best friends, as they were constantly taken away from you by preparation for university. You had dreaded this day. The day you'd pass from being a junior to a senior, inevitably leading to your brother's graduation and subsequent departure as he left for college.

It hadn't been that bad. Mingyu and Wonwoo had gotten accepted to the same college, urging you to come visit whenever you wanted, and reassuring you that in only one more year you'd be reunited. Senior year proved to be hard. Despite having friend groups to fall back on now that your brother was gone, you still missed the elder's presence. And that of who had now become one of your greatest friends; Kim Mingyu. On the rare occasion that Wonwoo was gone - occasions which increased as his college schedule began to become more and more polluted, - Mingyu was always there for you. The man who never treated you as a nuance, but who thoroughly enjoyed your company as much as he did Wonwoo's. He had come to become a nucleus in your life.

Time went by very fast. After a grueling year of separation, you were finally ready to attend university. Your communication with Wonwoo had died out a bit over the year, but you simply chalked it up to scheduling issues and him dealing with the stress of his new lifestyle. Mingyu had surprisingly remained more constant, always updating you on both his life and that of Wonwoo's. Despite any changes in your dynamic, your plan to reunite was still ongoing. You had applied to the same school Mingyu and Wonwoo ended up at, ecstatic at the acceptance letter you received a few months later. It had been decided, you were now to follow in your brother's footsteps and attend university with him. This was the moment you'd waited for a whole year, and it was now finally here.

Attending university was something that terrified you. You no longer had set schedules or teachers that made everything as straightforward as they once did. You were now expected to do things on your own, like any adult. You were also now living alone. Well, with a roommate. But it felt all the same. You had hoped you'd somehow move into some apartment off campus with your friend and brother, but that hope soon died after Wonwoo hit you with the news that they had both joined a fraternity, meaning their housing was already allotted for.

You hadn't wanted to tell your brother about your fears of college life, not wanting to give him the burden, yet again, of holding your hand as he led a path for you. It was only your first week, you reasoned, you'd get the hang of things soon enough.

With your first week came your second and your third, leaving you worn out at how lonely you felt even now that you were so close to your brother. It seemed like his priorities had changed a bit over the past year. Your usually shy and reserved brother had become well known around school, having joined many clubs and even working around school. While still the good boy you always knew him as, his attention was elsewhere for once; no longer putting his sole focus on you. He was busy, with his mind clearly elsewhere at all times. You had expected him to branch out in college, knowing that was simply the natural course of life, but it still disheartened you a bit, having hoped against reason that you'd always be as close as you were as kids. This had come as a heartbreaking revelation to you. You decided to not let it be known, however, choosing to make the best of the few times your brother would still have time to hang out with you.

Like today. Today was your first frat party. Your initiation, as Mingyu called it. Your brother and friend were excited to introduce you to college life, wanting to be present as you attended your first party, just as precaution. You appreciated their concern, truly, still feeling anxious at the brand new environment.

You found yourself alone after a bit, with Wonwoo being dragged away by some of his fraternity brothers, claiming they needed help doing a beer run. You'd learned recently that Wonwoo had made his presence in the frat well-established, usually tending to frat duties out of his own volition. You didn't see him again after that. Your loneliness didn't last for long, however, as you soon found a familiar shadow behind you. Kim Mingyu.

"Hey, baby. How's the party going? Having fun?", he had taken the habit of calling you baby as of recently, teasing you over what he claimed to be an age difference between the two of you.

"The drinks suck, Wonwoo left, I'm overdressed, and I keep freaking out whenever guys approach me," you listed off, sipping the drink in your hand regardless of its stale taste.

"Guys? Who's 'guys'? No one should be talking to you, you're Wonwoo's sister," he had also taken the habit of being overprotective, specially since your arrival at university, at some point giving you a stern talk about which type of guys you should avoid. You felt it kind of hypocritical, really, seeing as Mingyu was the center of attention for many girls at the party.

"Also, you look beautiful. There's no such thing as overdressed," he was also sweet and thoughtful, you remembered.

"Thank you, Gyu. You should go mingle! Don't feel like you have to babysit me."

"Babysit you? We're best friends, I don't know if you remember? We haven't hung out since you moved into campus! Come on, let me make you a better drink," and with that, he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him to a secluded area of the fraternity's kitchen, pulling out various bottles and making a concoction of who knows what.

"Here. Don't ask what it is, and don't tell your parents I fed you alcohol."

You weren't much of a drinker back home, but upon arriving to college you knew you'd have to be down to drink every now and then, so without thinking too much of it, you sipped Mingyu's drink. But that had been a mistake, as you promptly spit out what you could only assume to be lighter fluid in a red solo cup.

"Mingyu, what the fuck?! Did you just give me fucking gasoline? How can you drink this?"

He chuckled at your reaction, gently dabbing your lips with a napkin to get rid of the remnants of the alcohol you'd spit out.

"Okay, too strong for you. Got it. Sorry, baby. Forgot you're still a little kid."

"One year, Mingyu. Eight months, actually."

"Same difference! Now come on, come dance with me. Don't want your first party to be a waste."

You spent the rest of the night like this, being dragged back and forth by a very excitable Mingyu as he showed you what he believed to be the 'proper way to party' in a frat. You appreciated his company. Immensely. All while you forgot the one person who was missing from this important first-time in your college life.

The next time you saw Mingyu was the very next morning. Upon answering the incessant knocks on your door, you were met with a very soft-looking Mingyu, sporting sweats and with two coffees in hand.

"Hey, baby. Hungover?", he stepped in without a verbal welcome, handing you a coffee in the process.

"No, Mingyu. I didn't even get to finish a drink after you fed me literal gasoline. How are you not hungover, you drank like crazy!"

He shrugged, 'You get used to it. You should ask your brother. He went kinda crazy freshman year. He's chilled out a bit this year. I think he might've been overcompensating back then', he rambled.

"Well, you can ask him for me when you see him," you mumbled sadly, hating the reminder that you'd barely seen your brother since your arrival.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Gyu. Never mind."

"No, tell me. You're my best friend, you're supposed to tell me everything," he nudged you, coming to sit next to you on the couch. He kept calling you that too, since your arrival. You had to admit, you appreciated the swift evolution of your friendship with Mingyu upon your brother's absence as your best friend. But part of you felt as if Mingyu was only doing it out of pity, well aware that Wonwoo had been too busy for you lately.

"Mingyu, you're the only one to still think that. We're not even a friend group anymore. Wonwoo's growing out of it. Clearly. There'll probably come a point where we do too."

He stayed quiet for a beat. Okay, maybe that was too intense for a 9am ice breaker.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm friends with Wonwoo. I'm friends with you. Is there anything else to it? Anything I missed??"

"Wonwoo and I haven't spoken properly in weeks. You don't have to keep tabs on me for him anymore. I guess this was just the natural course of life."

"Baby, I'm not 'keeping tabs on you.' You're my best friend. How many times do I have to say it? I don't care that you're Wonwoo's sister. I never have. You know that."

He was right. He'd never made a distinction between you and Wonwoo as far as friendship went. You could even argue that you'd grown closer to Mingyu than Wonwoo during the past few years. The thought depressed you, but it also reassured you of your friendship with Mingyu. You had been slightly insecure of your friendship with Mingyu ever since you'd grown closer, seeing how popular and well loved he was, so it was nice to hear reassurance directly from him.

"You know what, fuck Wonwoo! Let's hang out. Just the two of us."

You laughed, knowing he was kidding at the expletive against your brother, but finding yourself agreeing to his proposal.

"Okay. Where are you taking me?"

"Mingyu! Since when do you have a bike?!"

In front of you stood what you could only assume to be your friend's latest impulsive purchase. A black motorcycle you were hoping he did not intend for you to ride.

"C'mon! We used to ride bikes together all the time! This is literally the same thing."

"Bikes? Do you mean bicycles? Yes, Gyu. We rode kiddie bikes, never this!"

"Baby, if you don't get your ass on this bike, I'm gonna pick you up and do it myself."

And with that you found yourself cruising through the city on the back of Mingyu's bike, clutching onto his waist as you felt the wind flow against you.

Arriving was quick. Where you arrived is what you didn't know. You were on a field, far from the general public, on a secluded area hidden by some trees but still with a nice view of the lake in front of you.

"Wonwoo and I hang out here sometimes. No one ever really comes to this part of the park because of how secluded it is. Takes a while by foot, but my bike gets us here pretty quick," he answered your question before you had a chance to verbalize it.

"Hmm. And you brought me here, why?"

"Well," he sat down, patting the patch of grass next to him so you would follow him in his actions, "you seem stressed. Thought maybe you'd wanna vent to me a bit. Like in senior year?"

He was right again. During your lonely final year of high school you had made it a habit of calling up Mingyu whenever your mood soured. You hadn't really stopped to think about how much of a constant presence Mingyu had been to you since your brother began to become more busy.

"It's nothing," you said, laying your head against his shoulder as you both stared at the lake in front of you, enjoying the serenity of the sight.

"Come on. Tell me. I won't tell anyone, pinky promise," he put out his pinky, dragging yours from your lap and intertwining them together.

"It's just .. Wonwoo. I miss him."

"Baby ..." he coo'd at your sad tone, "I know you do. He's just been busy. He loves you, you know that."

"I know, but I haven't really seen him in a while. It's so out of the ordinary for us. Is it the frat? What's keeping him busy, I mean."

"Maybe. Might be school too, his major's pretty hard. I'm not sure, actually. We haven't hung out in a while either."

Oh. So it wasn't just you. That made you feel a bit better.

"It's just. Fuck. It's so dumb. It shouldn't get to me like this. It's just my stupid brother. It's not like we'd be best friends forever," but the more you spoke, the more emotional you got, eventually feeling tears fall form at your eyes at the thought of you and your brother falling away from each other.

"Aigoo. Baby, don't cry. You're too pretty to cry," he wiped your tears with his big thumb, turning to sit even closer to you.

You looked into his eyes, feeling instant comfort from the sweetness in his gaze. You almost fell into a trance, not being able to disconnect your eyes from those of your best friend.

"Listen. How's this? We can just stick together. He can have his space, and when he's ready, we'll both be here, together. How's that sound, pretty? Wanna be my bestie? Promise I won't ever ditch you," he held your hand up again to link with his pinky once more.

He had a way of always comforting you, always putting your feelings above his. Like now. You had just found out his own best friend was icing him out in the same way he did you, yet he was comforting you.

You didn't feel the need for a verbal response, instead unlinking your pinkies and hugging him in return, humming in affirmation as he held you back.

The two of you became even closer after that. You'd join Mingyu at every frat party from then on, occasionally seeing your brother in passing as he was always on his way out, sharing very short moments of interaction with the two of you. Mingyu's constant company helped you reason Wonwoo's absences, taking a page from Mingyu's book and being more understanding.

You'd spent the entire night together, hanging back as you drank and talked, with Mingyu fending off any of his frat brothers who tried to drag him away under the vice of 'fraternity duties.' He seemed to be glued to you, not wanting to leave you alone. Any girls seeking his attention were also quickly sent away by him. You appreciated this, feeling slightly bad at hogging Mingyu's attention all night. But he didn't seem to mind. No matter how insistent you were that he could go mingle, he'd be twice as insistent that he'd rather hang with you.

He'd also visit you almost every other morning, coffee in hand as he walked you to your morning class, even if it meant he'd be late for his own. He had become the biggest presence in your life, swiftly replacing your brother who you hadn't even gotten do see in a few days. You'd spend almost every day together, never tiring of each other's company.

Even now, you were walking towards Mingyu's frat house, seeking his aid in your intro to psych course, knowing that Mingyu had taken that exact same professor his freshman year. He had told you previously that he and Wonwoo had kept a few of their freshman year notes, aware that you'd be joining them this year and would likely take the same basic classes they did when they'd first arrived.

You had known that Wonwoo and Mingyu shared rooms within the frat, but since you had not seen your brother in a few days, you were surprised at finding him upon knocking on Mingyu's door.

"Oh. Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Wonwoo," you walked past him and into the room.

"That's not what I meant. I meant I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

"Really, Wonwoo? I've been around."

"Yeah, I've seen you at parties and stuff. Haven't really gotten to talk to you, though. How's school? Anything you need help with?"

If there was anything your brother was, it was dense. He always had the tendency of getting lost in his own head. It didn't help that he'd sometimes fail to pick up on context cues. His innocent face as he asked about your recent whereabouts made it difficult to express any frustration at him, knowing he probably wasn't even well aware that he'd been ghosting you.

"Nothing, Wonwoo," you sighed, "I'm supposed to meet with Gyu today to go over some notes. What about you? Where have you been lately?"

"Oh. Gyu? He's in the shower, he should be back soon," he half-answered your questions. You shot him an expectant look as you waited for him to continue.

"Well?"

"What?", you continued to stare, "Oh. Oh! Sorry. Yeah, maybe I should explain, right?", he paused. "I've been busy. There's not much else to it. The frat, photography club, been thinking of joining an internship. There's too many things. Been talking to a girl too .. I didn't mean to just leave you alone like that, I'm sorry," he continued, but you'd tuned him out a bit. Why was he telling you all of this now?

"-Mingyu told me you'd been having a hard time your first week here, after that party? So I asked him to look out for you while I figured out my scheduling of things. I'm glad to see you two hanging out again, like in high school."

It had been Wonwoo? What about what Mingyu said? About you and him being friends, not needing Wonwoo to join you as best friends. You felt kind of deflated at Wonwoo's confession. You'd already kind of assumed he was busy, simply dealing with school work as the overachiever he had always been. Hearing that Mingyu's presence was a result of Wonwoo's pity was a hit in the gut, though. Were you really just the annoying little sister that needed constant supervision? You were no longer feeling sour at Wonwoo, but rather at the thought of your friendship with Mingyu being disingenuous. It hadn't felt that way when you were together, and you were sure Mingyu must've liked your company to some extent. But thinking about the implications behind Wonwoo's push to get Mingyu to watch over you made you feel small, it made y-

"Y/N? Are you listening?"

Oh. You'd gotten lost in your head and completely tuned out Wonwoo without realizing.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I want to spend time with you, I really do. I promise I'll do better. I guess I got used to your absence while I was away. Mingyu hounded me over it last week, said you were feeling down about it. I never meant to make you feel like we weren't friends. I'm sorry."

You felt both disappointed and touched. You hated thinking of Mingyu and Wonwoo talking about your feelings behind your back. Well, maybe not behind your back, seeing as Wonwoo had no issue letting you know. It was still embarrassing nonetheless. It was hard not to let all those years of being known as Wonwoo's annoying little sister get to you at times; just a leech that clung to him instead of making friends of her own. You didn't want to believe that Mingyu felt the same way too. But what were you supposed to believe when someone like Mingyu showed so much interest in you? Yeah, sure, it made sense back in middle school when he was still an awkward preteen. Maybe even in high school when he was a bit of a try hard. But in college, where he was member of a frat and nothing short of a heartthrob, it just didn't make sense to you that he'd stick by you out of his own volition. And Wonwoo's words did nothing to help your pre-existing insecurities about it.

But maybe this was all in your head. It was just your best friends looking after you, right? You should've just appreciated the apology and moved on. Which you did, really. But you still couldn't help but wonder.

The rest of your conversation with Wonwoo went as you'd expect. You caught up with each other, just like you would've years ago. It felt nice. Comfortable. It was like falling, knowing there was someone there to catch you. It reminded you of how you'd felt with Mingyu for these past months since your arrival to college. But different. You loved your brother more than anything, but part of you couldn't help but keep the thought of Mingyu in the back of your head even as you were deep in conversation with your brother. Despite having missed him, you now missed Mingyu's presence, even if it was only for a mere moment. Part of you kind of hoped your brother would stay busy so you could keep Mingyu for yourself. You weren't sure what you were feeling. It was just a mixture of emotions jumbling up your stomach.

Your thoughts were then rudely interrupted by the entrance of a very wet Kim Mingyu, your conversation with Wonwoo halting simultaneously. It was like a scene out of a very shitty novel. The steam flowing behind him as he dapped at his hair with a small towel, a bigger one covering his nether region as he entered the room, top half wet and uncovered. This probed no reaction out of Wonwoo. And arguably, no reaction from you, as you immediately looked the other way as if you'd been burned.

"Oh, you're here? Shit, forgot we were supposed to meet an hour earlier, my bad," he responded as if he wasn't standing half naked in front of you. You still made it a point to not look into his eyes, simply squeaking out a short ''s fine' in return.

Wonwoo chuckled at your flustered state, "C'mon, you've seen him in more compromising positions. Remember when he came out of the pool sophomore year with his trousers all the way down? This is nothing. I see worse every day," Mingyu visibly winced at the memory, halting his actions for a second to throw a glare at Wonwoo.

You remembered, but that was pre-pubescent Mingyu!! He did not hold a candle to whoever was standing in front of you in this moment.

"Didn't account for seeing a naked Mingyu today or ever again, thank you! I'll wait outside. You're late, by the way," you bumped Mingyu jokingly before promptly exiting the room, hoping your act had been bought.

You kind of hated the idea of waiting in the common area of a fraternity, not because of the people, but more so the implications of it. Specially knowing your friend and brother would most likely talk about you behind the closed door, but it was either that or be confided in a room with Mingyu as he changed while your brother's presence loomed over you.

You waited in silence, leaning against a wall for a good minute until you were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey! It's you again," it was Yoon Jeonghan, if you weren't mistaken. He was one of the guys you'd spoken to that first time you'd partied in the fraternity, before Mingyu found you and took you under his wing for the night. It was also one of the guys Mingyu had warned you not to speak to (and it had been a long list), citing that he was a 'menace' and he just didn't like the idea of you speaking to him. You'd liked him, though. Despite having only spoken to him for a few minutes that night, he seemed decent enough to hold a conversation with.

"Hi, Jeonghan."

"You remember my name? That's crazy. Must've left an impression on you, huh?"

"Shut up. There's only like twelve of you here, it's not that hard."

"Thirteen," he corrected before continuting, "Oof, you're on first name basis with thirteen guys? What will Mingyu say?", he snickered as he leaned against the wall next to you, shoulder to shoulder, but head facing you.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon, you're Mingyu's girl. You're off limits. Well, double off limits since you're Wonwoo's sister. If any of us comes near you, we're dead."

You still didn't really understand what he meant. Wonwoo never really cared who you dated. He even encouraged you, as any friend would. He never pulled the 'brother card', nor got in the way if you showed interest in one of his friends (which had happened before, circa the early 2010's when you'd crushed on his bio partner Johnny, but no one needs to know about that disaster). The mention of Mingyu's name made even less sense, seeing as you weren't related in any way. You were interested by the intel Jeonghan was giving you, though, so you decided to play along.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, Gyu warned us all to stay away, said something about you being different from other girls at the frat. Was kinda a dick about it, to be honest," he trailed off.

"Then why are you talking to me?"

He snickered again, leaning closer to you, "I like to live on the edge."

That made you laugh, slapping his shoulder as you unintentionally decreased the distance even more. That's unfortunately when Mingyu finally walked through the door, smile fading at the picture of you and Jeonghan standing so close to each other while Jeonghan pulled laughter from you.

He cleared his throat, interrupting your laugh. "What are we laughing at, Jeonghan?", he gave a tight-lipped smile.

"You," he deadpanned. It was silent for a minute, sans your quiet snort at Mingyu's clear annoyance of the guy, "Well, I'm bored now, I'm gonna go. I'm sure I'll see you around," he winked at you as he clicked his tongue at Mingyu and made his exit, leaving behind a clearly peeved off Mingyu.

You both watched him leave before you turned to face your friend.

"Where's Wonwoo?", you broke the silence. It took him a second to reply, still glaring in the direction in which Jeonghan had left.

"Oh. He's got plans today. Shocking, I know. He's killing time til his meeting with the photography club."

"Ah. Okay .. Do you have your things?"

"What things?"

"The notes? That's kinda why I'm here ..."

"Shit, right. Yeah, I do. Sorry, Jeonghan threw me off," he paused, "What, uh, what were you guys talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. He was just keeping me company while we waited," why tell him what you know when Mingyu was seemingly keeping a few things from you himself, you thought.

"Okay, gotcha. Well, I guess we should go," and with that, you walked towards the exit, heading for Mingyu's bike to go to the spot Mingyu and you had been frequenting.

You studied for a while, attempting to stay focused on the notes Mingyu had been explaining to you. But you couldn't help but he distracted by what Wonwoo had told you, and then interrupting those thoughts by thinking of what Jeonghan had said. You wanted to be straight up and ask Mingyu his intentions with you; whether you were a friend or whether he was simply doing your brother a favour by staying by your side. There was no sensible way of doing it, though. At least not without sounding like a wounded little girl.

"Okay," he suddenly looked up from his book, interrupting the silence, "Something's clearly distracting you. Did Jeonghan say something? You can tell me, you know."

"What? No. He didn't say anything. It was .. it was Wonwoo, actually," you trailed off, not really meeting his eyes.

"Wonwoo?", this seemed to get his attention, as he sat up and broke the one sided eye contact he'd been trying to have with you, opting to look to your side instead, "What did he say?"

"It's just .. Mingyu. I need you to be honest with me, okay?"

He gulped, very uncharacteristic to his usually confident demeanor. You weren't sure why.

"Did Wonwoo put you up to this? He made it seem like maybe ... like maybe this was his idea? You asking me to hang out and stuff. Maybe out of, uh, pity?", you mustered out, feeling embarrassed at even vocalizing your insecurities about your relationship with the man sitting across from you.

He sighed in relief, very unlike the reaction you'd expected, "Oh, god. That? Baby, I already told you. Wonwoo has nothing to do with this. I mean, okay, yeah, he suggested I watch out for you, but that was well after I saw you at that party. It was his idea, except it was mine first. He didn't have to force any pity into me, because I wanted to stick to you even before I knew he'd been ghosting you too."

Oh. You had misunderstood. Again. First your brother and now Gyu. You should've known Mingyu was too nice of a guy to lie to your face like you'd assumed. He was also a terrible liar.

He took your silence as a cue to continue. 'I already told you, I won't ditch you, I even pinky promised! I'm your friend. I know we've only ever been friends while Wonwoo was there, but we can be friends without him, can't we? Now stop doubting my friendship! You're starting to make me feel bad', he pouted, scooting closer to you as you both sat on the grass.

You sighed, "You're right, Gyu. I'm sorry. I swear this will be the last time I let my irrational thoughts get the best of me, okay?"

"Good. Now pay attention, I didn't keep last year's homework hidden in my closet for a whole year for you not to use it."

You and Mingyu kept hanging out just like before, now with that cloud of doubt off your mind. Wonwoo would occasionally join you whenever he found time in his busy schedule, fulfilling the promise he had made you that day in his room. But despite that, it was still mostly just you and Mingyu, seeing as you'd grown closer in the past months.

Your relationship grew as the months passed, spending most of your time with one another. Mingyu always made it known through his actions how much he cared about you as a friend, always including you in outings, walking you to class, scaring off any guys who tried to talk to you, escorting you to parties as your date, helping you remove your makeup after a long night of drinking, holding your hand as he walked you home at night, occasionally staying over when tiredness won over the two of you. Just friend things, really. Except you weren't so sure anymore.

With the passing of time also came the evolution of your feelings. There was too much Mingyu in your life, you were beginning to go a little crazy. You hadn't realized how touchy Mingyu was until you had begun hanging out with him without your brother around. You weren't sure if this was normal. You'd never received such affection from any of your brother's other friends, nor did you ever notice Mingyu ever being this touchy with anyone else. Regardless of the reasoning, there was only so much more you could take before breaking. You'd begun to realize that maybe .. maybe this wasn't just a friendship. At least not to you. Maybe this was why you felt so insecure in the beginning, wondering why Mingyu showed interest in you. You were afraid that maybe, without realizing, you'd confused Mingyu's friendship for more, leading you to a fight within yourself about what it meant for you and Mingyu to become the dynamic duo you now were, growing a relationship outside of Wonwoo.

It didn't help that you hadn't met anyone since coming to university. You'd made friends, sure, but most of your time was (willingly) taken up by Mingyu, and maybe on occasion Wonwoo. Any boys who tried to approach you were swiftly warded off by a very tall and intimidating Mingyu. You were kind of well known at that point for being off limits. Lots of guys saw you as unapproachable, either out of respect for your brother, or out of fear of your best friend. You weren't sure why Mingyu had become even more protective than your brother. You had your hopes as to why, but you knew that this was a 10+ year old friendship you couldn't carelessly risk over some unfounded feelings you'd only recently began to discover. There were times you believed he'd hint at some feelings, but Mingyu was a bit of a wildcard. Having known him for so long, you'd seen him through all his relationships, just as he had seen you through yours. You knew how he behaved around someone he was romantically interested in, and you were sad to admit that no matter how affectionate he was towards you, you were not a prime example of it.

So you decided you'd keep your feelings at bay for now. If they were even those type of feelings in the first place. You'd never been in this situation before, neither had you ever liked Mingyu in this way since meeting him over ten years ago, so, once again, you found yourself feeling uncertain of your relationship with your best friend.

Today was yet again another party. This time your brother would finally be in attendance, having finally found some time off of his seemingly grueling schedule. It was Halloween, after all. You remembered all the years you'd spent Halloween with Wonwoo and Mingyu in the past, occasionally even matching costumes with one another. This year you'd decided to go your own ways and surprise each other with your costumes. The plan was for Mingyu to pick you up from your dorm and walk you to the frat (he insisted, citing that it was 'too late for a pretty girl to be walking around alone!'), which is where you'd meet up with Wonwoo. You'd gone in a different direction for your costume this year, opting for a new look. In past years you liked to either match with Wonwoo or dress up as your latest hyperfixation, but since you were now an adult in college (and you didn't need your parents' veto on your costume anymore ..), you went for something a little more provocative. It wasn't too out there, but it was more skin than you were used to showing. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you adjusted your wig a bit, fixing the red headband that held the look together. You thought maybe your dress might've been too short; slightly inaccurate to the original look, but you had to admit, you looked hot as shit! It'd be worth it if this was your slutty debut.

A knock suddenly interrupted your thoughts. And then another. And another. This was how you could usually tell it was Mingyu. The large man had a habit of being really loud without meaning to. You laughed to yourself at the cute habit and headed towards the door, excited to show him your costume and to take a look at his.

You opened the door, opening your mouth to greet him, only to be interrupted immediately by the sight in front of you. A very shirtless Mingyu. Well, a Mingyu in denim jeans and a matching denim vest. You weren't sure what he was supposed to be, but you didn't want to keep looking long enough to figure it out. For your own sanity.

He had been leaning against the door when you'd opened it, looking up as he spoke his first words to you, "Hey, baby. You ready to- Son of a bitch."

"What? You don't like it?", you pouted. Was it too much? He was literally shirtless, looking like a wet dr- okay, best to not finish that thought.

"What? No! You look gorgeous. Are you, uh, is it Betty Boop?"

"Mingyu! Do you not remember?! I showed you this movie! I'm Mima!! From Perfect Blue!", leave it to Mingyu to lose memory of a movie you'd just shown him a few weeks back.

"I'm sorry, baby, I remember. Just distracted by how pretty you look," he said as he smiled down at you, adorable canines in full view. Damn him. He was always showering you in compliments, not knowing their effect on you as of late.

"Shut up .. What are you even supposed to be? Wait, oh my god. Are you Ken?", jesus, what a cliche. You hadn't even connected the dots until now.

"Listen! I thought you'd be Barbie! Every girl wants to be Barbie. I was trying to be a step ahead of you so we could match! How was I supposed to know you were gonna dress as a character from an indie movie?"

"Aw. You wanted to match? You could've said something, Gyu."

The thought of Mingyu ordering a matching set of denim pants and denim vest at the thought of being the Ken to your Barbie made you coo, completely forcing yourself to ignore the shirtless aspect of his costume.

He tsked, still pouting, "Didn't want you to think I was lame ..." he mumbled, "We've also never matched without Wonwoo."

"I wouldn'tve thought that, Gyu. Want me to throw on a pink dress? We could make it work, I-"

"No!", he halted your speech, "Stay like this. You look insanely hot. Gonna have to keep guys off of you all night, but it'll be worth it. C'mon, baby, let's just go now," he said as he offered his arm for you to link yours with.

Keep guys off of you? Hot? He needed to stop saying these things. You were already feeling lightheaded at the thought of spending the entire night being guarded by an overprotective Mingyu, deluding yourself into thinking that it'd be because he wanted you all to himself.

You arrived to the party pretty quick, by now having already corrected three people on your costume on your walk there. Mingyu would laugh next to you every single time, mocking your costume choice and claiming that Barbie would've been a better option, because then you 'could've been such a hot power couple.'

You stuck around each other for most of your stay, only ever straying away from one another whenever Mingyu insisted on going to the kitchen to freshen up your drink, or when various Barbies would stop him to get a picture with him, using their costume as an excuse to get close to Mingyu. It peeved you off a bit, deflating your mood slightly more each time someone interrupted your conversation to drag Mingyu away. But Mingyu was a gentleman and a helpless people pleaser, so he would politely say yes and pose for a bit before moving on, only to eventually be interrupted again. You weren't sure if Mingyu took notice of your frustration, but if he did, he didn't show it. That kind of made you feel worse.

You'd caught up with your brother during Mingyu's short absences, who had just side-eyed you at your costume choice, calling you predictable. He'd dressed as Marty McFly, putting minimal effort into his costume in usual Wonwoo fashion.

"So."

"So?"

"I thought you were supposed to be Mingyu's date?", he asked, as if it was the most obvious thing.

"I am his date. Well, 'date,'" you air quoted, "I'm always his date to your frat's parties, you know that."

He shrugged, "I know, but he seemed excited to do couple's costume with you this year. I thought it was kinda silly, but he even got his costume tailored n everything," he said nonchalantly as he sipped his beer a bit.

"Oh. He didn't really tell me .. It's not like I'm his actual date anyways," and it wasn't like he really needed you when he had so many girls literally lining up for his attention.

"You could be."

"What do you mean?", you were confused by Wonwoo's sudden commentary on this, not even aware that he'd even thought about you and Gyu in that way.

"Just .. I mean, wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"Wonwoo, wh-"

"Sorry I took so long! Some other girl wanted a picture and she just wouldn't let me get away. Here, got your favorite," it was Mingyu with his impeccable timing, handing you a drink as he flashed you his classic boyish smile.

"Thank you," you were slightly deflated, wanting to continue your conversation with Wonwoo, and also annoyed at the thought of sharing Mingyu's time with yet another girl. When had you become so dependent on Mingyu's attention? And why was your mood souring so easily at the mere mention of other girls coming from his mouth?

Wonwoo promptly excused himself at the interruption, catching sight of another one of his frat brothers and joining him in whatever he was doing. Gyu bid Wonwoo a quick bye, instantly turning his attention right back to you.

"Having fun?"

"Sure, Gyu. You?"

"Just sure? What's wrong? Want me to get Wonwoo back?"

"No, Mingyu, it's fine. I was thinking about heading home, actually. It's getting kinda late."

"Oh? Okay, let me just let Wonwoo know and I'll go walk you back," he was halfway through turning to go find your brother.

"No, that's fine. You should stay!", you tried to sound as convincing as possible, knowing that sooner or later his attention would be dragged away from you again anyways.

"Stay? What happened to not ditching each other?", he chuckled, "Did you forget the pinky promise?"

You remembered, which is why you wondered why he'd been ditching you all night.

"C'mon, Gyu. Don't you wanna stay with one of the many pretty girls that have been wanting to talk to you all night? I don't wanna cockblock you ..." you felt a little sheepish at even the slight reference to sex, never having really touched the subject with Mingyu in all your years of friendship.

You knew you were being kind of unreasonable. Mingyu hadn't shown any direct interest in any of the girls, and he had clearly wanted to spend the night by your side, but your childish feelings were hurt by all the attention he had been giving other people, feeling like a spoiled little girl who demanded her mom's care at all times.

"You're the only pretty girl I wanna spend my time with," he gave you a sad smile.

He kept doing this. Throwing you a bone but doing nothing else. He'd say things that would have you planning your wedding if it'd been any other guy, constantly feeding you with pet names and endless compliments. Except that's where it always stopped. The only other indication you'd gotten so far about his words having a deeper meaning were the short conversations you had with Jeonghan and Wonwoo. Conversations which were both promptly interrupted by Mingyu, never to be brought up again.

"Gyu, I-"

"Excuse me. Could I get a picture with you? Haven't found any other Ken's around so far," the interruption was unsurprisingly provided by yet another girl in Barbie's classic pink plaid dress, shyly looking at Mingyu as she awaited his response.

You knew Mingyu was popular with girls, but today had kind of felt like a punch in the face.

He looked at her and then back at you. And then back at her and back at you again, clearly fighting the urge to be a gentleman and just do as the girl asked.

You gave them both a tight smile, "I'll see you tomorrow, Gyu," and with that, you began to walk away, feeling bad at the dramatics but knowing that you'd just get your feelings hurt if you saw Mingyu unknowingly flirt with yet another girl.

You didn't get very far, though.

"Hey, wait up!", it was Mingyu. Obviously.

"Gyu, it's fine, you shou-"

"I told you I wouldn't ditch you. Maybe you forgot about it, but I didn't. And this goes both ways. Okay. baby? Now let's go," he grabbed your hand and led you away, leaving behind a disgruntled Barbie who had just wanted a chance to talk to the pretty Ken.

You walked in silence most of the way home, not being really in the mood to say anything. Nor knowing what to say, kind of embarrassed by your futile attempts to ditch Mingyu, proving yourself to be kind of a hypocrite.

Before you realized, you were standing in front of your dorm. You turned around to give Mingyu a quick goodbye, not expecting much from him considering his silence during the walk home.

And then he hugged you. He held you close as he leaned down to your height and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, humming at the closeness between you. You held your arms out around him, not really hugging back at first due to the shock of the sudden action, but then proceeding to rib your arms up and down his back soothingly.

"Gyu ..."

"I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry? I'm sorry," he unglued his head from your neck, now staring down at you with sad features on his face, arms still around your waist.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm sorry I ditched you tonight. I didn't mean to. I guess it's hard for me to ignore all the attention sometimes. I made a promise but I kept breaking it tonight. Didn't mean to make you feel like I wasn't paying attention."

"No, Gyu. I'm just being sensitive, it's fine, really! You can be with other people, you shouldn't feel badly about it just because I'm acting like a child," you felt embarrassed admitting it out loud, but it was true, "I guess I got used to having Wonwoo's undivided attention growing up that I became a bit of a brat about it, hah ..."

"Baby, please stop talking about yourself like that before I get mad," he said, half joking, half serious. "I still made you upset, regardless of anything. I saw your face while you watched me be dragged away time after time, and I didn't like what I saw. I'm sorry. I won't ditch you again, I promise. I double promise. I'll be mean about it if I have to, okay?"

You chuckled at that. You couldn't possibly imagine a world where Mingyu would ever be mean. He was the nicest boy you'd ever known.

His reestablishment of the promise made you a bit sad. Knowing you were still stuck at a catch 22; break your friendship if you confessed, or live with Mingyu as close as possible without ever being able to actually have him. But you'd take whatever you could get, wanting Mingyu in your life no matter what.

He'd once again kept his promise. Somehow, by some act of god, becoming even more attentive to you. It made you happy and sad. You were practically in a relationship with Mingyu at this point, except he was the only one who didn't know about it. His frat brothers would joke about it, mocking you by calling you 'baby' whenever Mingyu wasn't around to make fun of the nickname that by now seemed to be your legal name. Even Wonwoo would give you looks whenever he saw the way in which Mingyu would physically stick to you through the night every time you hung out around him.

Mingyu had also made it a point to not entertain any girl - at least while you were around. Any time a girl would come up to him, he'd hold a short interaction and call it a day, instantly turning back around to you. It was funny, really, the way in which they'd give you a dirty look behind his back before promptly accepting their fate and walking away.

At this point your life had become a blur of school, parties, and Mingyu. Every other week you'd be in attendance to a party - or sometimes simply a small gathering between close friends - at Wonwoo and Mingyu's frat. During other days of the week you'd still find yourself there due to assignments you needed help with, or simply to see your brother. More often than not, however, you'd find yourself there to see Mingyu. You were enjoying college life thus far, having forgotten all your worries from your initial arrival a few months back. Mingyu's constant presence (plus yours and Wonwoo's reconciliation) had taken away any of the fears you'd had. Once more, you had befriended Wonwoo's friends, always feeling welcome at the frat and even hanging out with a few members while on your way to and from class.

Now, you were once again at the frat, waiting for Mingyu to get home from class. Jeonghan and Seungcheol put it upon themselves to entertain you until his arrival, teasing you over being Mingyu's unofficial girlfriend as they usually did. You never took it seriously. I mean, yeah you were still in the same place with Mingyu (re: hopelessly in love), and your feelings had only gotten worse with the passing of time, but you also knew what boys were like, having been subjected to their company since you were a little kid.

"Hey babyyy. Looking for Mingyu?"

"Jeonghan, stop fucking calling me that."

He gasps, you roll your eyes, "Is that not your name??"

"Anyways, is he not back yet? Need him back so we can prep the drinks for tonight," now was Cheol's turn to speak.

"He should be back from class already. He told me to just get ready here."

"Here? You're not even allowed here!", you knew Jeonghan was kidding, but it was kinda true. It was an unspoken rule in the frat that the boys couldn't have girls overnight. It was originally set up to prevent partygoers who didn't live there from taking their rooms for hookups. Even as Wonwoo's sister, you weren't an exception.

"I'm not staying. Just for the party. Anyways, I'm just gonna go look for him, I know when his class is. Cheol, please keep him away from me next time I'm here. Bye!"

They both chuckled, bidding their goodbyes and see you laters to you as you headed to the door, still feeling a bit awkward at being the only girl hanging around at the frat before the usual weekly party began; even if you were close friends with the guys. Over time you'd noticed how some of the girls you'd frequently see at the parties would look at you, knowing they probably had less than favorable opinions about you. It's not like you were keeping the pretty frat boys away from them, you were just used to this lifestyle, you always stuck by your brother and his various friend groups through the years, and this was not the exception.

Many even seemed to assume you were dating Mingyu, which you did not blame them for, considering how much time you spent together. A grand majority of them would act bitchy towards you, flirting with him right in front of you even under the belief that he was taken. Mingyu would usually subtly shut them down and lead them away somehow. You were afraid for the moment in which he snapped out of his seemingly self-imposed celibacy and drop you for some girl. You knew it would come eventually, but you still had some unfounded hope that maybe that girl would be you.

After having waited for Mingyu at the frat to no avail, you had decided to go search for him at his classroom, thinking he might've stayed a little extra time for some reason. Except you didn't find him there either. You eventually decided to text him, only to get no response. This was quite out of character of him, with him being the one to usually seek you out through text. Calls were also left unanswered, making you think that maybe an emergency came up or that he might've forgotten he had asked you to meet. This was also very uncharacteristic of him. You decided to, for once, not let your thoughts run amok and simply let it go. You had already pushed your insecurities onto Mingyu enough times. Instead, you headed home, head down at the thought of Mingyu forgetting about your meeting, but still planning to get ready to go see him at the party.

Your apparel was nothing too out of the ordinary. You had started dressing a little more maturely after that first attempt at the Halloween party, having enjoyed the reaction your costume had gotten out of Mingyu. Ever since then, you had begun to introduce shorter skirts and lower cut tops into your attire, although still keeping your general style and aesthetic pretty much the same. You felt kind of silly dressing up more just because of Mingyu's reaction that one time, but you could've sworn that he'd become even more protective since you started dressing like that, which you was something you shamelessly enjoyed.

With that, you left your dorm, wanting to catch up with Mingyu after having not seen him all day, something that was extremely out of the ordinary for the two of you. He had been very adamant about you not ditching each other, after all.

You arrived promptly to the party, which had already started and was buzzing as per usual. You walked by a few friends from class, making sure to stop by and say hi to them, along with to a few members of the frat. The one person you hadn't seen thus far had been Mingyu. You even found your brother hanging out with his frat brothers Vernon and Seungkwan, hanging back while they prepared a table for some beer pong. They'd invited you to join in, but you felt uneasy at Mingyu's absence, so you declined and kept walking, hoping to find him. You eventually bumped into Seungcheol. He had mentioned that he needed Mingyu to help him restock drinks before the party, so you asked him if he knew about his whereabouts.

"Oh, yeah. He came back a little after you left. He helped me out but said he had to leave right away. Had to meet with someone or something."

Oh. So had it been just you then?

"Do you know who?"

"Hmm, no, he didn't say. He got a call before he left. It sounded like a girl ..." he shot you an awkward smile at the mention of a girl.

Jesus, did everyone know you had a crush on Mingyu?

"Okay, thanks Cheol. I'll see you later," and with a quick side-hug you left, attempting once more to find your friend.

Was he ignoring your calls? Clearly he had his phone if he picked up someone else's call. Why hadn't he let you know he couldn't meet up anymore? Why'd he even let you come to a party you'd agreed to attend together if he was gonna ditch you? Why was he meeting up with another girl if he was supposed to be your date tonight? This was very unlike him, but it still hurt nonetheless.

You decided to walk the place, still looking for him but also pondering about maybe going home. You knew your feelings shouldn't be hurt over this, but to be fair, Mingyu had unintentionally conditioned you to expect his presence. And knowing that he was blatantly ignoring any form of contact you'd tried to make with him made you feel like a idiot. So you left. The frat was still on campus, so walking yourself to your dorm wouldn't take too long, even if you were used to rides from Mingyu's bike or the occasional piggy back ride he'd give you when you grew too tired of the walk.

You were on one of the top floors when you made your decision to leave, having walked the entire place in search of Mingyu. It made you feel like an idiot now, dressing up for him and chasing after him all day all while he was just carelessly ignoring you. You walked the way back, passing by each of the frat member's designated rooms. Even by Mingyu's too.

Mingyu's timing had always proved to be really inopportune. He'd constantly walk in when you were in the middle of conversation, or knock on your door before you were finished getting ready. Today, however, he had taken the cake.

Just as you were about to walk by his and Wonwoo's room came out a distracted Mingyu, clearly the middle of conversation with whoever was also on their way to exit the room. One moment later you saw who it was. She looked familiar, you thought. Might've been one of the many girls who'd competed for Mingyu's attention at these parties. It didn't really matter to you at that moment. She was walking out of Mingyu's room with him. Girls weren't supposed to be allowed in their rooms after a certain time. Was she the exception to the rule? You watched as she and Mingyu held friendly conversation, with her giving him a kiss on the cheek and a smile as she made her exit. Gyu didn't seem fazed by this. Almost as if it were a daily occurrence. Was it a daily occurrence? Had you just been an idiot chasing after him, hoping he'd maybe look at you differently one of these days?

You felt your emotions take over you. The mere sight of a girl coming out of Mingyu's room late into the night, at an area where partygoers weren't allowed, made your vision blurry with tears. All unfounded hopes you'd had about a future between you and Mingyu were immediately crushed. He didn't like you back. You knew it already, but the confirmation was just a punch in the face. He had been ignoring your calls all day in favour of a girl. One of the many girls he reassured you meant nothing to him, because he'd wanted to give all his attention to you, his best friend.

You could've sworn you stood there watching the short interaction for hours. Time had frozen for you. But not for anyone else. And surely not for Mingyu, who turned around and immediately spotted you after having bid his goodbye to the girl. Your emotions must've been clear on your face, since Mingyu's previous wolfish smile suddenly dropped into a look of worry. It seemed like time had now frozen for him, as his movements halted and his reaction left him.

There was a distance between you, and to find the exit you'd have to pass by Mingyu in order to leave. You took advantage of his shock at your unexpected presence and walked past him, walking as fast as you could in order to not make a scene. Except you didn't get far.

"W-wait!", he managed to grab your arm before you left, softly tugging you in order to stop your movements, but it was futile. Your movements may have stopped but you refused to meet his eye, instead opting for looking down at your feet as you sniffled, feeling embarrassed at how easily you'd started crying.

"Baby, look at me," but you still refused, "Whatever it is that you're thinking didn't happen."

But you didn't respond, frog in your throat and unable to speak, knowing you'd start crying if you did.

"I-it's not what you think, please, I-"

"If you wanted time to .. if you wanted to be alone with .. her, you could've told me," you finally replied, sniffling and gasping all throughout.

"I didn't! I wanted to be with you!"

"I called you and called you and got no response. You didn't show up either. You- God, I don't ... I don't even know why I'm crying,' you took a shaky breath, 'We're not ... It's not like you and I-"

"Don't say that. I'd never even look at another girl like that ... It's just you and me, you know that."

"Mingyu ..." you continued to look down, not wanting to look at him and trigger even more crying.

"Let me explain, okay? But look at me, yeah? Can't stand you not looking at me, baby," he grabbed your chin, urging you to look up, directing your face towards his in order to look down directly into your eyes, "That's it, pretty. Now don't cry. Hate it when you cry."

"I don't know her very well," he begun, "We partnered up for class today and accidentally switched phones. I didn't realize until I was on my way to see you, which is when she called her own phone and asked me to meet. We kept missing each other, so I told her to meet me here so I could give her her phone back. I'd left it charging in my room before helping Cheol. You weren't here when I came back, so I thought I'd just see you later and explain. I didn't mean for you to see that .. There was- there was nothing. Nothing happened, okay, baby? Nothing."

"But the kiss ...?"

"Girls just do that sometimes, baby, I'm sorry. I'll wipe my cheek clean if you want me to, yeah?", he smiled down at you, wiping at your tears.

You felt even like an even bigger idiot now. An innocent interaction and you were pulling all the dramatics, sobbing into the arms of the boy you so desperately wanted. The thought made you even more emotional. How could you ever exist around Mingyu like this?

You unstuck yourself from his hold, feeling sick at yourself, "Gyu, I ..." you cut yourself off with a pathetic gasp, sniffling to prevent snot from falling from your nose.

He quickly held onto you again, "Hmm. Yeah, pretty? Tell me. Still gonna cry over me? You have nothing to cry about, baby, I told you. I'm right here. Never leaving, like I promised. Remember?"

The way he smiled down at you was one you'd never seen from him before. You were beyond embarrassed, but he continued to soothe you, giving you words of affirmation coated with a deeper meaning.

"Mingyu ..?"

You weren't sure what you wanted to say, still sniffling, although a bit more calm due to the comfort the boy gave you.

"What is it, baby? Want me to say it first? I will. I'll tell you. I'll show you. Just .. just wanna savour the moment for a little longer. Is that bad? Love how you worry about me. Just wanna .. wanna enjoy it," he continued to stare into your eyes, hand on your chin, lifting your face closer to his.

There was something unspoken about the way he was speaking to you; the words he was saying. Almost like a confession but not quite. The gap between friends and a little more; not quite lovers.

Both your eyes became lazy, lowering to each other's lips, breaths becoming heavier as Mingyu began to close the distance. It all felt so heavy, and so slow, like a pin could drop and you'd be alarmed by the noise. All your senses were preparing you for a tidal wave. Until it finally came.

"Love you. So much. So fucking much, pretty. You have no idea. Would never hurt you, ever", and with that, he pressed his lips to yours, humming quietly against your mouth. He pulled away soon after. Too soon for your comfort.

"l-love you, Gyu, I ..."

It felt like a huge weight off your shoulders, finally being able to say the three words, albeit mumbled against his lips.

"Loved you always," he interrupted, "Been in love with you ever since I can remember. My pretty girl. You were always meant to be mine. Always wanted to keep you safe, take care of you. Was just waiting for you ..." he said all this as he breathed into your mouth, breath getting heavier by the minute, your mind becoming foggy as you let yourself lean against him.

"Will you let me show you? Show you how bad I love you?"

You nodded desperately, whispering 'Yes' into his lips as he closed the gap again, kissing you with far more strength than the first time.

This was the kiss to beat all kisses. The way he planted his palms on your back, allowing you to lean pliant against his hold. The way he tilted his head slightly to the side to kiss you deeper. The way he sighed against your lips, as if he was finally able to breathe. The way his tongue eased your mouth open, dancing with your own in perfect coordination. The way he hummed against you, close to moaning in pleasure but holding back as a friend would.

The kiss was agony, or at least that's what any spectator would think, if they were to see the way both you and Mingyu furrow your eyebrows as if this was your very last breath and you needed to savior it with everything in you. He held you against him with gentle hands, while yours grabbed onto him as if he was your lifeline, yet you were both equally desperate while kissing one another. The buildup of your feelings took over, increasing the intensity of the kiss immediately. At some point you were both too out of breath, but unable to pull away, simply breathing against each other as you attempted to keep your lips glued.

He finally pulled away, breath heavy as he tried to bring himself back to earth.

"Baby .. Let me .. Let me take you to my room? Is it too soon? Just- Been waiting so long. Love you so much. Wanna show you. Can I?", he gently ran his hands up and down your back as he rambled, eyes crazy as they alternated between your lips and your eyes, unable to focus.

You hesitated. You weren't sure why. You'd wanted him so badly for so long, but now it felt way too real. Your desire for him had you so dizzy you could not think, rendering you a shell of yourself as your heavy gaze stared back at him, no thoughts in mind. Your mind a constant loop of Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu.

"I-It's okay, baby. I don't, don't wanna pressure you ..." he seemed flustered by your lack of answer.

Shit.

No. It'd been enough times of you making him do all the work. So instead of responding, you leaned up and pulled his head back down to your level, kissing him with all your might. You used all the strength you could muster and pushed him against the wall. He let out a surprised noise, but let his body become pliant to your touches, allowing you to press him to the wall and simply following along, seemingly content with whatever you gave him.

You kissed for a bit more, airing out all your emotions against each other's lips. The kiss had quickly become nasty and wet, almost in an animalistic way. Mingyu had also begun to become more daring with his touches, lowering his arms to the small of your waist, pressing your body up against his, letting you feel all of him.

You grew frustrated soon after, or maybe he did, you weren't too sure. But it was only a few moments later that you ended up crashing through his bedroom door, Mingyu quickly locking it behind you without daring to unlock your lips. This time he pushed you against the wall, caging you in with his large body. He pressed himself up against you as close as physically possible, beginning to drag his pelvis against yours. The feeling of his hardness grinding against you made all the air leave your head, rendering you breathless.

"G-gyu ..." you gasped against his mouth, hands going crazy as they scratched against his clothed chest and shoulders.

"I know, baby. So pretty. Just let me take care of you, yeah?", he lifted your arms from his chest, pinning them above you as he ground his hips with even more fervor, making you whine against his lips at the pressure against your crotch.

He ground against you like this for a while, enjoying the mewls of pleasure you let out against his lips. He took advantage of your open mouth against his lips to slip his tongue inside once more, licking into your mouth as he ground against you. Eventually he took control of the kiss, letting go one of your hands and angling your head so he could lick deeper into your mouth. Your eyes rolled back, both at the way he so expertly played with your tongue and at the slow pace he had while grinding what you could only assume to be a massive length hidden under his pants.

"Gyu ..." his name seemed to be the only word you were able to utter in your mindless state, "More. Please, want more ..."

"Anything you want, pretty," he reluctantly unglued himself from you, gently holding your hand to guide you to his bed before sitting you down at the edge of it.

"Wait."

"Hmm? What's wrong, baby?"

"I, uh, I thought you weren't allowed girls in here at this time ..." even in your dazy state, you remembered the rules of the frat, fearing that an annoyed Seungcheol or Seungkwan might come interrupt you and force you out.

"Shh, don't mind that. Won't let anyone take you away from me, yeah baby? Will even kick Wonwoo out for the night. It's just you and me, okay?", he leaned down to peck your lips, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

"You'll let me take care of you now, right baby? Gonna let me show you how much I love you?", he leaned you back on the bed as he said this, climbing over you in order to pin you down.

Your breath began to get heavy again, nodding numbly at his questions as you let your body become weightless; allowing him to do with it as he pleased.

You'd assumed he'd be gentle, - in a similar fashion to his words - but the moment your lips connected once again it was like someone else took over. Some animalistic sense within possessed him as he, for lack of a better word, devoured you. His hips were merciless as he began to rut them against yours once more. His lips trapped yours, taking full control of the kiss. His hands finally found the courage to explore your body, running his hands up and down your legs, taking advantage of the way your short skirt had ridden up. He moaned against your lips at the feeling of your pretty form under his, cursing under his breath when you decided to guide his hands to your breasts, desperate to feel his touch in more sensitive areas of your body.

He untangled his tongue from yours momentarily, looking into your eyes. He furrowed his brows while looking down at you, then lowering his eyes look at your clothed tits, which were currently being held hostage by his large palms.

"Baby ... Can I?"

You bit your lip and nodded up at him.

That was all confirmation he needed before literally ripping your dress off your body. The dress itself might've actually torn in the process, you weren't sure. That didn't matter as soon as Mingyu finally took a look at your naked form, having expertly removed your bra as soon as he'd removed your dress. He let out a groan deep from his chest, physically salivating at your bare chest, hips only covered by a very thin pair of panties, now finally being able to see the entirety of your bare body under his hands.

"Baby ... So fucking beautiful, Jesus Christ. Been hiding this pretty body from me, haven't you?"

"Been dreaming about you for so long, fuck. So beautiful .."

"Look at you, so soft and pretty. And all for me, right baby? Gonna let me play with this pretty body, huh?"

"Wanna remember this. Fuck, can't stop looking at you. Wanna feel all of you. Wanna memorize your body."

In usual Mingyu fashion, his endless praise to you manifested itself even in this scenario, affecting you more than ever. His praise was accompanied by his fondling of your body, running his hands over every curve in your body, occasionally stopping to rub at your nipples as you arched your back at the delicious stimulation.

You could tell he loved the effect he had on you, as he dragged on and on, pulling cries and mewls out of you as he felt you up. Eventually he seemed to grow too desperate for more, getting on his knees at the foot of the bed and dragging your body towards him by your thighs, treating you like a weightless rag doll.

He kissed up and down your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes, meeting your heavy gaze as you waited for him to near the place where you needed him most. He eventually dragged down your panties, slow in his movements as he held them up to his face, breathing in your scent. You gasped at this, having never seen anyone do such a depraved act.

"Gyu ..."

"God, fuck. Even smell so good. Gonna taste so delicious, aren't you baby?"

"Please, Gyu, just .. Ah! Fuck!"

He dove right in, immediately licking and sucking at you, not wanting to waste a single drop. It was animalistic, the way he ate at you. He groaned and moaned against your cunt, forcing you as close as possible to him by holding onto your hips, encouraging you to grind against his face, practically riding his face.

"Just like that, baby. Drag that pretty pussy on my tongue. Gunna eat you up, pretty. Such a tasty pussy, shit."

It didn't take long for him to make you cum. All the months waiting for him, the merciless way in which he had you against the wall dragging his length against you, the way he undressed and caressed you (re: felt you up), the way he praised you all throughout. It all piled up inside you and made you reach the most mind-numbing orgasm you'd ever felt. You felt tears streaming down your face as you screamed his name, instantly falling on your back against the bed all while Mingyu continued to lick at you even in your sensitive state. But you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, growing drunk at the pleasurable pain you felt as be lightly caressed your clit with his tongue.

"Not done, baby. Wan' you again. Be good, yeah? Lemme have you again," his adorable lisp had become even more prominent, leaving him almost slurring through his speech likely due to the pussydrunkness he was feeling.

He promptly flipped you around, placing you on your hands and knees above the bed. He knelt behind you, once more feeling up and down your body, kneading at your ass as you arched your back. You'd expected him to finally fuck you, only to feel his tongue right back on your cunt.

You arched your back even more, mewling out his name once again as he licked at your clit, teasing it by lightly nibbling at it. Everything he did had you crying, delirious on the pleasure he was giving you. The moans of his own pleasure didn't help, nor did the sound of the bed squeaking as he ground his dick against it for relief.

This time you didn't meet your end, instead being flipped around once more and facing the man of your dreams. His face was dripping with your juices, hair a mess from all the pulling you'd done. You'd never seen a more beautiful sight. You reached up to him, feeling up and down his chest before pulling him down to you, smashing your lips to him as you desperately licked into his mouth. You tasted yourself on him, making him moan at the desperate speed of your tongue.

"Taste so good, don't you baby? Fuck, gonna eat you every day now. You're all for me," he groaned against your lips, lifting himself up a bit to finally remove his clothes.

You practically salivated at the sight. You'd seen him naked before, on a few accidental occasions. But seeing him now, sweaty from all the exertion and so close to you, gigantic chest and arms on full display .. It made you breathless. You felt him up, running your hands up and down his chest, wanting to commit it all to memory. He chuckled at your reaction, mumbling a small 'cute' before getting back to business.

Nothing could've prepared you for the moment he finally entered you. The stretch was like no other pleasure you'd ever felt before. It seemed to be the same case for him, as his voice grew in pitch the moment you first tightened up around him.

"Fuck! Baby, don't do that ... Wanna last, fuck."

"Gyu, you're so fucking big. Shit ..."

"Yeah, baby? Gonna split you open. Gonna mold your pussy so you can take me every day. Want that, don't you baby? Wanna keep me warm every morning?"

His words had you once again tightening, causing him the force behind his thrusts to increase, leading to a vicious cycle of pleasuring one another.

The way he moved his hips against you was purely animalistic. The drag of his hips made you fully delirious, his speed superhuman and the strength just enough to have you feeling pleasurable type of pain. He knew what he was doing, angling himself at that spot that had you crying into his neck.

"Right there! Fuck, Gyu, please! There .. There!"

He made it a point to angle himself even deeper, making you feel the delicious drag of his length in the spot where you needed him most. Sensing your orgasm nearing caused Mingyu to bring his thumb down to your swollen clit, rubbing it softly, at a such a slow speed that had you writhing against him, breathlessly whining for more.

He pulled at all stops to drag the most intense orgasm out of you. He repeatedly canted his hips against yours, hitting your g spot continuously. He played with your clit and even leaned down to lick at your tits, stimulating you from every sensitive part of your body in order to drag yet another orgasm out of you.

Your orgasm came soon after, triggering his in return. You screamed out his name, dragging your nails down his back while he fucked you through your high, whispering filthy expletives about how good you felt against your ear. He pulled out before spilling his seed inside you, choosing instead to cum all over your stomach, groaning at the filthy image of you coated in his cum.

You fell limp after that, losing all air in your head and being rendered breathless. You're not sure how long you laid there for, no thought in mind, seeing as the next time you opened your eyes you had already been cleaned up and placed under the sheets. From your spot on the bed you could see a very naked Mingyu walk towards you before slipping under the covers with you, instantly seeking your touch as he held you in his arms.

He spoke up first, "Sorry if that was too much .. Wanted to make love to you, but I guess I got over excited," he chuckled.

"It was perfect, Gyu. You were so sweet, like you always are," you kissed his chest as you said this, all while he gently ran his hands up and down your back, "Love you, Gyu. Sorry I didn't say it properly earlier."

"Love you more."

"You don't have to be competitive about it! But that's not true, by the way," you'd been going insane at your feelings for him for these past new months, there was no way he could win this one.

"Are you sure about that?", he snickered, as if he had some intel you didn't.

"What are you even talking about, Gyu?"

"I've loved you for longer, that's all I'm saying," he started leaving soft pecks on your chest, giggling at his own words.

"Nuh huh!"

"Yuh huh! I've liked you since senior year! You didn't even look my way at the time."

'Senior year? We barely saw each other that year. You and Wonwoo kept leaving me for senior stuff.'

"You know what they say. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Something like that. Anyways, I've held a candle for you for years. You made me wait all these years. I love you more."

"Wait. You liked me all this time?!", you sat up despite his whine in complaint, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Baby, I already told you. You didn't like me back. We'd never been around each other without Wonwoo by then. Didn't wanna fuck up our friendship, or make Wonwoo uncomfortable. Now get back here," he dragged you back down to his chest.

"But ..."

"Shhh, it doesn't matter anymore. I waited and now you're mine."

You didn't speak much after that, allowing yourselves to bask in each other's company, holding each other to sleep like you'd always wanted to do. You wanted to ponder on what Mingyu had said; that he'd liked you this whole time. You wanted to think back to moments that could've revealed Mingyu's feelings to you, but Mingyu was right. It didn't matter anymore, because you were now finally his.

You woke up the next morning to loud knocks, startling you from your comfortable slumber. By now, you and Mingyu were a tangled mess of limbs, with no space separating your bodies. You felt warmth and comfort you had never felt before, being pressed up, skin-to-skin.

The knocks hadn't awoken Mingyu, who you'd always known to be a heavy sleeper. You were only half awake yourself, so in your senseless sleepy state, you decided to untangle yourself from Mingyu and go check the door. You threw on Mingyu's button up from last night along with some boxers and headed to the door, only opening it a tiny bit to peek at who was knocking.

In retrospect, you should've known who you'd find on the other side of it, seeing as he did live here. But fortunately, even in your sleepy state you were dressed enough to not traumatize either of you.

"Wow. You're so predictable," it was your brother, wearing the same clothes you'd seen him in last night, taking notice of your current state.

"If you knew I was here, why come?"

"Wanted to confirm. Also, you kept me out all night. Didn't wanna risk unlocking the door and finding something that'd scar me for life."

"Wait. How'd you even know I'd be in here with Mingyu?", you had never mentioned your feelings to your brother. He had alluded to something between you and Mingyu once, but since it was never brought up again, so you assumed it must've just been a fluke.

"I knew the dam would break eventually. Mingyu's not much of a patient guy," he chuckled.

"Gyu? You knew he liked me?!"

"Of course I did. I knew about the both of you. Took you guys too long, to be honest. Watching you both go crazy over it was kinda funny, though," he chuckled to himself again, "Anyways, can you move? I have class in an hour."

"Dick', you mumbled 'And, uh, you can't come in. Gyu's kinda ..."

"Don't finish that sentence. Don't need to know more details. Jesus, was all night not enough?", he paused, shaking his head, "Never mind, don't answer that either. I'm just gonna borrow Cheol's shit. Just leave before you get caught here after hours," and with that he left, allowing you to close the gap on the door as you turned back to face a still-asleep Mingyu.

You laid back down with him, attempting to sneak your way back into his arms, only to finally awake him in the process.

"Mmm, baby?", he mumbled, seeking even more closeness go you, "Was someone at the door?"

"Just Wonwoo. Go back to sleep, Gyu."

"Nonu? What'd he say?"

"Called me a dumbass and told me to get out," you pouted at him.

He chuckled at this, but immediately whining right after, "Nooo, gotta keep you here, remember? Can't let you go anymore. He'll understand, don't worry. You'll just be our roommie."

"Am I moving in now, then?", you giggled against him.

"Yeah, baby. Gonna be us three again, yeah?"

"Yeah," you hummed, happy to have finally bagged your best friend, and knowing your brother would be nothing but supportive about it. After all, you had a tendency of sticking by him. Nothing had changed after all.

a/n: i honestly had no idea how to finish this T-T i hope u enjoyed reading though <3 i proofread most of it but there might still be some mistakes hehe sorry </3

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #mingyu smut #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #mingyu imagine #mingyu fluff

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kaeyas-beloved · 6 months

Text

a moment too late

Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli

— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...

CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name

val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist

I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....

Thinking about them not making it in time...

Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.

He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."

When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.

When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.

It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.

There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.

It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."

He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.

"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.

"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.

The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."

The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.

The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.

His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.

What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?

You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.

He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.

Silence.

"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.

The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.

For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.

For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.

That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.

———

Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.

It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?

Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.

When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.

By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.

With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.

In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.

“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.

“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.

The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.

The gods weren't in his favour.

Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.

The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.

He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.

It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.

"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.

The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.

Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.

And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.

You were alive, but at what cost?

———

Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.

Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.

The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.

Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”

A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.

Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.

Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.

At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.

He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.

And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.

"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.

The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?

His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.

Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.

He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.

When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.

From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.

It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.

———

Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.

The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?

Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.

As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.

How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?

The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.

Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.

It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.

You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.

You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.

So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.

But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.

———

Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.

By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.

Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.

"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.

You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."

Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.

There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.

They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.

Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."

His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"

Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”

He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."

You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.

It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"

There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.

The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.

One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.

"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.

You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.

Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?

Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.

Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.

Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.

You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.

So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.

From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.

"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."

It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.

———

Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.

It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.

It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.

Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.

Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.

The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"

When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.

"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."

The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"

“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”

The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.

Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."

Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.

"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."

"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.

All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"

He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.

Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.

"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood

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burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months

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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

#writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writers block #novel writing #fiction writing #writer #writers of tumblr

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katakaluptastrophy · 8 months

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Periodically, I remember how absolutely fucked up the necromancers in TLT are meant to look. Like, necromancy does an absolute number on people physically.

Harrow is "rather small and feeble".

Necromantic Ianthe is "the starved shadow" of her non-necromantic twin.

Our first description of Palamedes is "a rangy, underfed young man" who is "gaunt".

Silas is "knife-faced...He had a necromancer build."

Ianthe parodies make-over scenes in House novels with "if the hero’s a necromancer it’ll be described like, ‘His frailty made his unearthly handsomeness all the more ephemeral'"

Jod acknowledges to Wake that even small children with aptitude would look odd to non-House eyes: "“I have access to any number of cute pictures of necromantic toddlers with their first bone. They don’t make for fat-cheeked roly-poly babies, but they’ve got a certain something."

In As Yet Unsent, Judith brags about her previous physical fitness: "I could run a kilometre in ten minutes, which was among the fastest for my adept group in the junior reserves." Which is about double the time you might expect for a physically fit woman her age.

In non-necromancer-friendly New Rho, Harrow's body is mistaken for a child's and has to be explained as a result of starvation and trauma to seem plausible: "Pyrrha explained without missing a beat that what with everything Nona had gone through she had been ill and still didn’t eat very much, which was why she was so knobbly and undergrown. The nice lady said that yes, many of the children had problems like that, but it was still hard to imagine Nona was anywhere over fourteen, wasn’t it?"

Tamsyn Muir's descriptions of the Canaan House gang on Tumblr back this up: "Judith is somewhat less completely scrawny than other necromancers on the cast, though she should be less built than Marta is", Palamedes is "seriously underfed" and "bony", Harrow is "scrawny".

And that's just what I can think of off the top of my head - I'm sure there's more.

Anyway, necromancers aren't slender in a conventionally attractive way, they're gaunt in a concerning way...and probably the only reason no one instantly clocked that Coronabeth wasn't a necromancer was because they all just thought it was par for the course that a Third House princess would have had a lot of plastic surgery flesh magic.

#the locked tomb #tlt #And that's not even getting into the other fun and exciting aspects of necromantic health like unusual cancers and recurrent miscarriages #The joy of the death of the author of course is that you can draw or imagine characters any way you please

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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months

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I love every fic That has Danny still being Phantom even while in the DC universe but sometimes I just want my little guy to flex his intellect and be all around little mad scientist that only sometimes uses his powers to pick up a screwdriver

Danny is smart.

He knows he is brilliant.

He may have been outshined by his family when he was younger, but that was because his focus was on something else, and frankly, being born last into a family of geniuses made one feel like one wasn't as intelligent as them.

He constantly compared himself to them, knowing that they had already achieved what he was doing and falling further and further behind in his self-wellow.

Then Danny left Amity Park and went into the real world.....he found his intelligence got him far. Danny was exceptionally brilliant when he was working on machinery, chemistry, and, above all else, engineering.

Maybe it had something to do with watching his parents repurpose any household item into a completely new technology that affected beings from different dimensions simply because they used math.

Or maybe it was that his brain was always moving, always connecting, and constantly processing. Danny didn't realize that people couldn't just make whatever idea came into their heads a reality.

Hell, his dad heard about Mr. Freeze's ray and he made a copy in two months. Danny made Mr. Freeze's ray in two weeks. He made other ghost tech in that same amount or enough to arm his schoolmates in one afternoon.

The point is that Danny is good at what he does. Put a screwdriver in huis hand, and he be off until whatever hair brain idea he had a physical form.

Everyone in Amity Park knew this as a fact about the Fentons/ Since they moved in, there was nothing but experiments one right after the other. Sure, they wasted it on things like Ecto-studies, but his parents made their money from somewhere before the world learned about ghosts.

Danny's parents had many, and he means many, patents. Everything from a brand of microwaves to vehicle parts.

His parents created them, sold them to partial rights to companies, and then wasted whatever money they got on some new experiment for a ghost that had not yielded any fortunes.

He thought he could do the same. Just apply to anywhere that would take him after creating a portable phone changer on one's wrist. He figured it would have gotten less attention than he did hadn't he just shown up at Wayne Expo as an unknown inventor through his parents contacts.

Danny had felt relatively small with his foldable plastic table and his four cardboard boxes of his invention while everyone had booths and screens, and a few even had prominent speakers with people in suits that cost more than his house

. Danny felt like a little kid trying to sell lemonade in the five-star hotel lobby. Everyone walked right by him without a glance, or they jeered and mocked him.

That was until Bruce Wayne wandered over. Kind and charming the man, maybe he wasn't the brightest- but he stood there listening to Danny excitedly explain how moving the hand on the bracelet caused it to charge, so walking around with it was all the kinetic energy it needed.

His ward- Dick Grayson, in all his tiny ten-year-old authority, had purchased a bracelet from Danny. It had been the only sale he made that night, but it was the only one he needed. Bruce had called him to offer him a position at WE.

Like his parents, Danny enjoyed his freedom, so instead, he offered to be a freelance inventor. He would show the Wayne's first dibs but go where the wind took him. He made them if he found buyers who weren't trying to ice him out of profits.

Unlike his parents, he didn't waste the funds past his travels. Slowly but surely building up a fortune over time.

Danny still went out as Phantom, but over the years he invented random gadgets and chemicals that he would ship to Bruce for a healthy paycheck. Ussually he makes something that the rich man off-handedly comments on.

"Oh Danny, I just loved skydiving, but I'm scared Dick's parachute will get stuck."

Danny invented one with small rocket blasters Bruce could manually control into landing for his son.

"I always enjoy undersea diving. The tanks are a killer on my back. Jason was almost weighted down by them too."

Danny created a breathing mask that had the tanks in smaller easier-to-carry cylinders.

"Tim really loves his computers. Wish I could take the whole thing with me when I go out!"

Danny had a working computer on a heliographic wristwatch the next month.

It was awesome. Danny traveled a lot but always found time to call and speak with Bruce. He got to know the man well over the years, found himself chatting with him for hours, and even spent his visits to Gotham at Wayne Manor as a guest.

Bruce's kids were a riot to be around. He would often go away for a while only to return and find that they had grown in numbers. He loved them like his own and found himself a confidant among the children.

It was he that Dick called to whispers about his insecurity within Bruce's home. He would go to all the gymnastics and mathletes shows he could catch, cheering the loudest among the rich parents as Dick outshone the rest of the children.

Danny had practically flown home to rip Bruce a new one until the man admitted to his gapping son that he had applied to be his father mere months after taking him in.

It was Danny that Jason spoke to when Dick and Bruce's fights were too loud. He would take the boy on trips, and talk for hours about books to calm down, then he had sat Bruce and Dick down to rip another new one.

It was no surprise that Jason had called him when he had tried to run away to confront his birth mother. He had been there to see the bitch arrested before she could hurt Jason.

It was Danny that Tim often sought out to showcase his photos. He always made sure to call the boy right before he was meant to sleep, regardless of which part of the world Danny was on, to wish him goodnight and talk about their days.

Tim always brightened whenever Danny caught his skateboard competitions or club performances. He was the one who found out Tim's biological parents neglected him after the boy told him, and he was the one to help Bruce win custody.

Then came Damian, who was as scared as he was angry. Danny adored him and saw so many ghost-like mannerisms in him that connecting to the boy wasn't hard at all.

Bruce didn't seem to understand that his son was used to outlined expectations and grew irritable when he felt he failed them. He was the one that help Damian get used to his environment and was the one the boy was much more willing to try new things with.

Steph and Danny often got along well with their sense of humor, but mostly she followed him around, seeking approval that likely missed out from her parents. They would sit down and talk about her future and what she wanted in life, and he even let her practice her makeup on him and giggle about boys.

Sometimes, it felt like she didn't have to be the tough girl from the rough part of town. She could be a teenage girl without a care in the world. At least, that's what she claimed Danny made her feel like.

Cass didn't talk much, but she didn't have to for Danny to not see how much she enjoyed their days out, too.

He loved taking her to see the arts, to sit and listen to music together, and most of all, to see her slowly bloom into a sociable young lady so different from the closed-off girl that first arrived at Wayne Manor.

Duke was still relatively new, but Danny could spot the wild, unhinged look in his eye that would have made him a proper Fenton. The two often spent their time playing video games and working in the community together.

Duke seemed to enjoy when Danny invited him to tag along on short trips, especially when the two would go camping. As someone who grew up in the city, he had never been fishing until Danny taught him how to reel in a big one at a lake a state over. The whole Wayne family had cheered the dark skin boy on as he held the trout over his head for the photo.

Alfred treated him like one of the family sometimes meeting up with Danny on his travels for a cup of tea or a nice phone call to gossip about Bruce.

Danny loved it but adored when the Waynes would help with his inventions. Even if all they did was sit in his makeshift lab inside his RV or the west wing of Wayne Manor like Bruce did, having them made his hands fly faster and his calculations sharper.

Sometimes, he caught the strangest, softest look on Bruce's face when Danny would be wielding.

Danny was so used to this lifestyle that he would forget about his ghost powers. It's not like he really needed them.

That came to head when he returned to Gotham on a whim, wanting to surprise Bruce for his birthday by taking the other man out to dinner somewhere fancy he happened to stumble across the scene of Scarecrow holding the Waynes- his Waynes- as hostages at an award ceremony in the new mental hospital they had funded.

Danny hadn't thought.

He saw the Fear Gas vents open and pulled one of his gadgets. He threw it as hard as he could at Scarecrow, watching with satisfaction as it bounced off the manic's head- knocking him out and spinning in place as it activated.

It was a miniature vacuum- meant to gather pollution in the air to hopefully clean up their planet- sucking in all the green smoke before it could harm.

He three out of the other five at the goons that had tried to gas the spectators before, pressing his anti-gravity plates- reversing them to slam the goons into a heap and officially knocking them out.

Danny took down the Rouge in under a minute.

"Bruce! Kids! Are you alright?" He cried rushing the stage to the stunned family. He helped them out of their bonds, gentelly tracing the bruise on Bruce's face with a soft whine. "They hurt you."

"I'm alright, darling," Bruce muttered, leaning into his palm. "I'm better with you here. What was that?"

"Oh just a-"

"Look out!" Dick suddenly screams as a flash of ice comes from nowhere. Danny tucks Bruce onto his chest and rolls away from the ray's pathway. They land with his friend on his back and Danny leaning over him in a protective hunch.

Quickly, he stops his foot against the ice, pressing the heel back and watching bursts of electricity from his built-in tazer race up the ice to the beam of Dr. Freeze.

The man doesn't have time to react before spamming and hitting the ground. Danny scoffs. "Using a ray with a cryogenic laser beam so last season. Invent something new, you one act poney."

Bruce stares up at him with those soft eyes again, and Danny smiles now that he is sure the Danger is gone.

"Is there nothing that mind of yours can't do?" Bruce asks and Danny laughs helping him to his feet as police swarm the place.

"Find me a date, maybe." Danny jokes, "I haven't had one since you took in Dick.""

"Neither has Father!" Damian shouts from behind them. Danny bemussingly watches the young boy march up to gesture at the mortified-looking man.

Despite his father's obvious embarrassment, Damian does not seem bothered to shout for everyone to hear. "He may swing both ways but hasn't acquired a suitable spouse. What says you, Danny? You could assist in correcting this error."

"Sure, I'll take him out." Danny laughs, patting the boy on his shoulder, knowing he hates to have his hair touched. Damian all but melts into his hand like his father seemingly smug. "I know a great club to meet some great people in Metropolis!"

Damian's smug look fades away as Bruce's eyes fall. "I meant for you to be Father's sp-"

"Danny, would you mind explaining those tazer shoes?" Bruce cuts in, throwing a arm over the inventor's shoulder. "They were dazzling!"

"Oh, Bruce, I'm always happy to explain my creations!"

Damian pouts as the two walk away, acting like a married couple to the scattered spectators. If only his Father would just man up and tell Danny that he's practically been his second Father all these years, they need to officiate it.

Tim sighs, placing a hand like Danny did on his shoulder. "It's okay, Dami. This time, we will surely succeed in the Parent Trap plan. Maybe before Danny gets lost in the lab trying to invent a way to warp travel."

"Don't even joke, Tim," Jason says. "Danny would figure that out. He created the Zeta Beams to make it to my senior play. He'll figure out warping if we ask him to."

"Dad's the best," Steph laughs, and they all agree, determined more than ever to make Parent Trap happen.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Freelance Inventor #Danny is so smart he casually revolutionizes tech #He's not aware of the Bats #He's still somehow their Dad #And Bruce is in love with him'#The bat kids are going to Parent Trap them #spirit halloween

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yandere-daydreams · 7 months

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Title: Captured.

A Continuation of This Piece.

Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader x Yandere!Gojo (JJK).

Word Count: 3.3k.

TW: AFAB!Reader, Dub/Con -> Non/Con, Implied Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Threesomes, The Pervasive Aire of Homoerotica, Slight Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Violence, Intimidation, and Biting. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

He let you wait outside while he booked a room. It was a test, obviously – to see if you’d try and run as soon as he let you out of his sight. You didn’t. You kept your back pressed against the peeling cement wall and your hands in your pockets as the man at the front desk screamed, as you listened to the slick sounds of carnage and Geto’s muffled laughter. By the time he came out, his clothes dotted with dark stains and his hands lathered in the same dripping scarlet, you thought you might’ve been too sick for whatever he wanted to do with you.

He held up a hand, two keys and their accompanying plastic tags hanging from each finger. “Pick a number, one through ten.”

You just wanted to get this over with. Then, you wouldn’t have to worry about monsters or mysterious men or any of this ever again. “Eight.”

“Oh, the honeymoon suite.” Your eyes widened, and he cocked his head to the side. “Kidding, kidding. That’ll have to wait, for now.”

The room was nicer than you’d expected. Not quite the oppressively beige monstrosity you’d feared, but not as far from the eye-bleedingly pink love hotel that’d be the permanent backdrop in your worst nightmares as you would’ve liked. Currently, you were sitting on the edge of a king-sized bed with faux-velvet sheets, staring at your feet as Geto washed his hands in the in-suite bathroom. So lost in your own spiraling thoughts, you didn’t notice the water shutting off, didn’t hear him approaching you until the mattress dipped at your side and a pair of hands came to rest on either side of your waist. In one smooth, effortless motion, you were hauled into his lap, left to balance on his thigh as his eyes raked over you unabashedly. “You should try to relax. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afraid of me.” His hand fell to the hem of your sweater. You’d gotten dressed in a blind panic after waking up to an apartment crawling with those awful things, but now, you regretted not throwing on as many layers as you could, not putting as many barriers as you could between yourself and the feeling of his calloused fingers skirting over your skin. “I can help take the edge off, if you’d like.”

For the first time that day, you felt a spark of relief. “Do you have anything? I’m alright with pills.”

“I was thinking something more along the lines of…” His hand splayed over your stomach, his tone laced with a dark edge. “Choking you until you black-out, then having my way with your helpless body?”

“Oh.” Just as quickly, that spark was extinguished – crushed under an unforgiving heel and stamped into total nonexistence. “I… I think I’d rather be awake, thank you.”

He hummed, tapping two fingers against your hip. “Have it your way, little one.”

Without warning, you were thrown onto the center of the bed. Before you could haul yourself up, before you could fully realize what was going on, Geto was between your open legs, mouth latched onto the inside of your thigh and his hands tearing at your shorts. The flimsy material gave away easily, and your panties didn’t last much longer. You took back what you’d said about wearing less revealing clothes; making this take any longer than it already did would’ve been torture. As deftly as he worked, the knot of dread forming in your chest was faster, quickly overshadowing every rational thought you might’ve had in favor of telling you that you weren’t supposed to be here, that this was dangerous, that you didn’t know what was going on, that you—

His broad tongue laved over your now-exposed slit, and your panicked mind went completely blank. His mouth was hot, and he didn’t waste time, latching onto your clit and sucking before you could think to push him away. Your body, nerves fried by adrenaline and senses dialed up to the point of hypersensitivity, responded immediately, your back arching as you struggled to swallow back a fractured moan. He encouraged your reactions, laving over your clit as two of his fingers found their way to your now-dripping entrance.

His digits slipped into you without resistance, scissoring apart and splitting you open as your own hands balled around the sheets, as you locked your jaw into place and did what little you could swallow back any sounds that’d make you seem more pathetic than you already were. Your pitiful attempts at resistance earned a throaty chuckle that reverberated against your clit and made your thighs clench together. Vaguely, in the distance, you felt his hand curl around your ankle, then you were being bent in half, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he ate you out like a man starved. It was all you could do to keep your eyes shut, the tears that would’ve escaped otherwise safely locked away, to make sure you didn’t kick or thrash or do anything that’d make him decide you’d be more entertaining after you’d been half-mauled by one of his monsters. It was all you could do to keep your mind blank, to block out the terrible, wet noises rising up from between your thighs, to—

The door creaked as it swung open, and you scrambled to pull away from Geto, to cover yourself before someone saw you being brought to the brink of climax by a murderer. He held you in place, though, his grip turning vice-like as he kept you splayed-open and on-display for the familiar, white-haired stranger now standing in the doorway. “Satoru,” Geto started, still idly pumping his fingers into you. “How kind of you to join—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, Gojo had him pinned to the far wall, a small crater blown into the cement where the point of collision would’ve been. You could see an orb of blinding, blue light forming in his other hand, but Geto only clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Keep your dick in your pants, pervert,” he purred, eyes flitting to you. “There are innocents nearby.”

The orb of light disappeared, but Gojo didn’t move. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”

You watched a first form at Geto’s side, watched in a daze as his knuckles collided with Gojo’s cheek with enough force to send him flying across the room and into the side of the bed, fracturing the steel frame. “Me neither, ‘toru.”

Letting out a ragged exhale, Gojo pushed himself to his feet and their conversation devolved into a rush of blows and kicks and insults half-finished before Gojo’s fist collided with Geto’s chin or Geto caught Gojo’s throat in his teeth. Clothes were torn, blood spilled across cheap carpeting, and you blinked once, twice, before shaking your head and hauling yourself up and taking stock of the situation.

They were fighting. Eventually, one of them would probably win, and that winner would probably want to fuck you. Maybe, after that, one of them would also help you. Maybe.

Gojo caught Geto’s hair in his fist and pulled. You could’ve sworn you heard Geto moan.

Okay. Alright. Yeah. No. Fuck this, actually.

Slowly, careful not to make a sound, you stood up and pulled your sweater down to cover your still dripping cunt before inching towards the door which was, surprisingly, still in one piece (it would dawn on you later that Geto must’ve left it unlatched, if not open, much to your delayed mortification). You could figure something else out. There were two other people who knew about your monsters, which meant there must’ve been at least one more. Gojo had been wearing a uniform, when you first met him, running for your life from the mangled mess of teeth and claws that’d managed to sink its talons into you, and you thought you’d heard him mention a school. You could find someone else, someone who wouldn’t ask for sex, someone who wouldn’t know your name before you introduced yourself, someone who’d give you a protective charm or a talisman and then demand for money or unpaid labor in return. You could—

It felt like vertigo, like the surface of the Earth had shifted underneath you. Your body tilted, collapsed, and then Gojo’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed into your back and his fingers burrowed into the flesh of your side. “Trying to get away?” His voice was raspy. Geto must’ve gotten his throat. “That’s not very nice.”

“You were the one who burst in uninvited and distracted me,” Geto muttered. His lip was busted, and he cracked his nose back into place as he hauled himself up from the floor. “If you hadn’t interrupted us, they’d still be cumming on my tongue so adorably.”

Gojo didn’t seem to pay him any mind. His attention remained fixed on you, his free hand drifting to your vulnerable pussy. Using his thumb, he gathered some of the slick staining your inner thighs, toying with it as he spoke. “I thought the first time I touched you like this would be more romantic.” He paused, his ears ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Or, the first time I touched you while you were awake, at least. It… it got harder to control myself, toward the end.”

You snapped to Geto, teeth bared. “This wasn’t what we agreed to. I don’t want to—”

“Don’t talk to him.” His fingers slipped into you, curling against the walls of your cunt. Your breath hitched in your chest, and Gojo pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “Don’t look at him. He’s not supposed to be here.”

“I could say the same thing about you, Satoru.” Stretching his back, he made his way back to the bed and collapsed onto it, letting out a strained groan. “If I hadn’t been so kind as to donate all of those very valuable, very hard-to-come-by curses to your pitiful cause, you would’ve waited… how long? Another year before so much as breathing the same air as your little crush?” His half-lidded stare met yours, and he smirked. “You should have a taste. The poor thing is heavenly when they’re scared.”

“He’s always been this bossy. I’m sorry you had to deal with him on your own.” Gojo drew back, but didn’t let you go. Rather, he looped an arm under your knees and pulled you off your feet, carrying you back to that fucking bed. He laid you out with more care than Geto had, but his expression remained uncannily blank. He’d been blindfolded the first time you’d met, and whatever eyewear he’d come with had been either removed or torn away, revealing eyes that were almost painfully blue. The only mercy was his hair – long enough to fall over his face and obscure his empty gaze, his parted lips. His hand drifted to your injured leg, still bandaged from the knee down, and his lips quirked downward. “I’m sorry you had to get hurt, too. But…” He smiled, leaned in until his forehead rested against yours. “It’s good that we’ll get to be together, right?”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell him to stop touching you, to let you go home, but you couldn’t go home, so you said nothing.

Geto let out an exaggerated yawn. “I didn’t put this little reunion together because I wanted to hear you talk, ‘toru.”

“See what I mean? So fucking bossy.” And yet, one of his hands fell away from you. You heard fabric rustle, metal clink, and then his cock was free, prodding against the inside of your thigh. You could feel your heart drop into your stomach as your eyes broke away from his and raked over his pale shaft, his flushed head, already leaking beads of ivory precum. He was tall. They were both massive, but nothing attached to a human being should’ve been that big. “You’re lucky I’m letting you watch.”

“Who said I’d be watching?” So preoccupied by your own terror, you didn’t notice Geto shifting until you felt his hands on your sides, then at the hem of your sweater, pulling your only remaining protection over your head. You scrambled to stop him, but there wouldn’t have been much you could to do fend him off at your best, let alone in the state you’d been reduced to tonight. With a breathy chuckle, he finished stripping you down, his attention immediately falling to your chest. “You wouldn’t want me leaving you alone with him, would you, little one?” He bowed his head, catching your nipple with his teeth and pulling harshly. A pained whine slipped past your lips before you could choke it back, and he turned towards Gojo, grinning. “See? They like me.”

Whatever rage Gojo felt, he managed to bury it beneath a soft smile, a pulse of pure electricity in his eyes as he took his cock in his hand, dragging the tip over your entrance. You thrashed, kicked, fought, but he only cooed as he thrust into you, like he was trying to comfort you. Like you would need to be comforted if he just stopped.

He bottomed out, his hips pressing into yours with a blissful sigh, and you lurched forward, moving to claw at his eyes, to wrap your hands around his throat, to do something. Geto caught your wrists before you could so much as touch him, though – laughing as he forced your arms flush against the mattress. As Gojo started to move in earnest, Geto slotted his lips against yours, taking advantage of your distress to force his tongue into your mouth while Gojo fucked you open, whatever gentleness he’d been attempting to show you falling away in favor of burying himself that much deeper in your tight heat. As soon as Geto pulled away, Gojo took his place, his kiss not quite as aggressive but no less invasive, no less unwelcome. You should’ve never left your apartment. You should’ve never run from your monsters. At least they might’ve been kind enough to kill you quickly.

By the time he broke away from you, your vision was spotted with black, your lungs aching from a lack of oxygen. Jerkily, he straightened his back and raised a hand, his fingers soon tangled in Geto’s hair. You watched in a daze as teeth clashed against teeth and lips collided with a bruising force, and considered the terrifying possibility that you might’ve been the first person either of them had ever kissed.

Gojo’s pace turned erratic, his hold on your hip crushing. His pelvic bone caught on your clit every time he thrust into you. You’d been able to control yourself when faced with Geto’s teasing, but now, every little cracked moan and pained whimper slid past your lips, barely audible above the sound of slick squelching and skin slapping against skin. Unwillingly, you clenched around him, and Gojo doubled over with a throaty groan, burying his face in the side of your neck. You felt his mouth on your throat, then his teeth, sinking into your skin deep enough to draw blood. You clenched your eyes shut, willing your body to go numb to the pain, to ignore the coil of pure agony winding tighter in your core, but Geto caught your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back and stare up at him. “Trying to run away again so soon?”

“S-stop,” you half-sobbed, trying to pry his hand away from your face. “Don’t touch me—”

“We’ll have to bring a gag along, next time. That is, unless you learn to be more appreciative.” He shrugged his sweatpants below his waist, wrapping his fist around his cock and guiding it to your lips. “Open up, little one.”

You grit your teeth, keeping your mouth shut as tightly as you could, but Gojo bit down on your collarbone and you screamed, jerking against him. Geto took advantage of your misery, slipping a thumb into your mouth and prying your teeth apart, forcing his cock down your throat. “Bite down,” he muttered, voice low and tone sharpened, “and I’ll make sure he knocks you up.”

A wave of cold dread washed over you, but you didn’t have time to linger on your newly realized fear. Geto was already fucking your skull, already leaving you struggling not to choke as you tried to remember how to breathe around him. Where Gojo was uncontrolled, Geto almost seemed… unaffected, holding your head in place while he rolled his hips with the idle pace of a man determined to milk every second he could out of you. It was unbearable; the burning in your throat, the heat in your core, the feeling of Gojo battering into your cunt until you couldn’t stop your legs from twitching, your back from arching, your pussy from clenching around Gojo’s length and drawing a sinful noise from somewhere deep in his chest. You let out a ragged moan half-suffocated by Geto’s cock, and then you were coming undone around him, your body convulsing underneath his. Gojo wasn’t far behind. With a hitched groan, he pressed his hips into yours and pushed another open-mouthed kiss into your neck, making no attempt to pull out before flooding your pussy with something thick and awful.

Geto wasn’t far behind, his eyes falling shut as he came down your throat. For the longest time, neither of them moved, Geto forcing you to choke down every last drop of his cum while Gojo stare down at you, eyes blank and lips parted, his expression caught somewhere between tender and awe-struck.

Finally, he glanced away from you, looking to Geto instead. “Let’s switch. I want to feel their mouth.”

Geto let out a breath of a chuckle. With your body limp, your jaw slack, he pulled away from you, leaning just close enough to let his lips brush against your temple before straightening his back and moving to take Gojo’s place between your legs. “Whatever you say, lover boy.”

Hours later, when your skin was little more than a patchwork of hickeys and bruises and you couldn’t feel anything save for a constant, excruciating ache in your cunt, Geto had fallen asleep with his arm around your waist and Gojo laid next to you, head propped on his fist and a soft smile painted across his lips. You could see the sun starting to rise from behind the thin motel curtains, feel the dread that accompanied being in a strange place with strange men at a strange time, but it all seemed secondary, pushed to a distance by your exhaustion, your devastation. When Gojo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you out of Geto’s hold, all you could summon was a whine of protest, and even that was quickly glazed over with an airy laugh, a quiet hush.

Geto’s shirt (discarded three hours in, when he stepped aside for a shower while Gojo made you cum on his tongue for the fourth time) was pulled over your head, Gojo’s glasses (lost in the initial fight, found briefly while Geto was bouncing you on his cock with one hand and jerking Gojo off with the other, then lost again) snagged off the floor and pocketed. As he slipped out of the beaten motel door, you shut your eyes against the dim light, burying your face in his chest, and he encouraged you to, cupping the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss into your forehead. With his lips still lingering against your skin, he spoke, his voice muffled by his proximity. “It’s alright. You can sleep, if you need to.”

It might’ve been sweeter, if you hadn’t been able to feel every inch of his smile cutting into your skin.

“I promised I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?”

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arijackz · 2 months

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PICK A CARD: The ☆Glow-Up☆ 2024 Has Planned For you

♠︎ “At bottom every man knows well enough that he is a unique being, only once on this earth; and by no extraordinary chance will such a marvelously picturesque piece of diversity in unity as he is, ever be put together a second time.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✧ Pile One ✧ (queen of cups, 5oC rev., 10oC, the chariot, the magician, 4oS)

Release.

➣ The central theme of this glow-up is inner fulfillment. You are on a journey of true self-love. The queen of cups is sitting proudly at the front of the spread. Major water energy here. You are unraveling emotional trauma down to your roots and reevaluating past attachments and burdens with the six of cups.

➣ I picture floodgates opening, allowing all of the pent-up emotional turmoil to release and finally free you on a deep psychophysiological level. You released something, an attachment or mindset that was set in motion during your formative years that was hindering your ability to hold compassion for yourself.

➣ Shuffling my music, "Daddy Issues" by the Neighbourhood came on. I also saw the hierophant while shuffling the cards. You experienced a lot of undervaluing and emotional neglect in your home. Emotions in your home were taboo and possibly even punished.

➣ I feel like the people around you growing up, were either always dissatisfied with you in some way or made you feel small. Since this is a group reading, it is hard to word this without excluding a large chunk of the audience, but some of you grew up in a home situation where any form of outward self-love or expression was met with a lot of negativity and ridicule.

➣ This forced you into hiding your true self which groomed you into a mental space full of self-criticism and doubt. In your mind, you were unwanted or inherently broken in some way and deserved less. The way you were treated created deep emotional wounds in your young psyche which made it hard to feel satisfaction within yourself or with the outer world.

➣ With the five of cups, I get the sense that you had felt you were in a desert and unable to fill any of your cups so to speak. Baby, that’s coming to an end. The ten of cups is at the center of your spread with a big ass RAINBOW touching corner to corner. The drought is over. The dark days are over. The sun is shining and you can taste hope again.

➣ On this self-love journey, you are currently grieving (releasing) a degraded perception of yourself along with any beliefs that inhibit you from feeling good about your character.

➣ You are realizing just how enough you are and flushing out all of the poison that was crammed in your head about being inadequate. You are freeing yourself from the chains of feeling unworthy of a good life.

➣ You will find true beauty in every corner of you. Beauty in your laugh, beauty in how you dance, beauty in how you take care of yourself, beauty in what you care about, inner beauty that cannot be taken from you or scaled down. You will nurture your inner world, thus adding color to your outer world.

➣ During this major life-changing period, your view of reality will flip in a way you never thought imaginable. Life will feel worth living again. Your music will move you more and the swift pass of wind will invigorate you with new ideas for creative projects that will propel you forward to lifelong prosperity.

➣ I’m hearing 🎵 “… I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so, I'm so proud of you” from Make Me Proud by Drake. Congratulations babe, you just broke a fucking karmic cycle. 10 of cups, following the 5 of cups??? You have graduated from a dark knight of the soul and are now approaching new, abundant energy.

➣ The universe is proud of you. Your ancestors are proud of you. Your inner child is proud of you. Your God(s) is proud of you. All of the cells in your body are proud of you. You have released something cosmically within you. Please hug yourself and have a good cry because you are doing something you never believed you could. Your hopes and dreams are unfolding.

➣ Get ready to make your daydream your reality. With the chariot, you’re prepping to TAKE AWWFF BABY. The release of this blockage has raised your energetic vibration and is ushering bountiful opportunities into your life, new passions, new ideas, and new connections.

➣ Your newfound faith in yourself is going to give you the courage to go out and experience life. Most importantly you will find satisfaction in the mundane. Every frame of your day will be brighter and feel better. You have gone from 5 empty cups to an eternally flowing fountain. Take the time to thank yourself for all of the hard work you put in to get here.

➣ Advice: Extend yourself grace. During this period, you will have enlightening moments that will unlock pieces of the puzzle surrounding your trauma and a lot more will make sense and become easier to process.

➣ However, as the flawed humans we are, we tend to make sense of something and then turn around and beat ourselves up for not realizing it sooner. Or, minimizing our pain and criticizing our past selves for not doing more about it because hindsight truly is a dirty dawg. No that is not how it works.

➣ That’s like when you were in school and the teacher would start bullying you for not understanding a subject. YOU HAVE A DEGREE??? I’m fourteen?? Of course, you can say it's simple when you have already “graduated” and learned from it, not when you’re in the middle of experiencing it. You gained clarity during this tower moment and can now see the bigger picture and liberate yourself.

➣ Younger you fought to make your way through the fog and deserves grace because you would not be here today without your younger self’s perseverance. Forgive yourself for the time it took to get here and see the beauty in your evolution throughout the journey.

➣ Also, drink plenty of water and get rest!! It’s Pisces season, and a Pisces new moon is coming too. Most of your trauma will unravel while you’re unconscious. Please get plenty of rest and hydrate. This pile has Cancer/4th house energy written all over it. Mother yourself during this period. Clean your room, make your favorite foods, watch cheesy movies, and splurge on special skin care. Pamper yourself. okay I'm done. KISSES.

"My consciousness has outgrown this vessel"

✧ Pile Two ✧ (4ofS, the tower, the wheel of fortune, the emperor, the lovers, judgment, 7ofW, ace of wands)

Life's gotta always be messing with me (you wanna see the light) Can't they chill and let me be free? (So do I) Can't I take away all this pain? (You wanna see the light) I try to every night, all in vain, in vain

Justice.

➣ I asked for a song to explain the central theme of your reading and I got "Freak on a Leash" by Korn. I get the feel that one of the main struggles of your life path is unfair judgment. People are quick to create a false narrative of you and run off with it.

➣ If you read my last PAC, “What is most alluring about you”, you may have chosen pile 2 or 3. With the seven of wands, you are constantly under attack.

➣ Take what resonates but I see a few scenarios. People may be quick to paint you as a bad person without getting to know you. Your public reputation was heavily influenced by rumors from people who intentionally wanted you to be disliked. People will take something small, blow it out of proportion, and try to impose it as a character flaw. Oh, you don’t eat the crust on your sandwich? How wasteful! There are starving kids out there, you’re so inconsiderate!! and then everyone else in the room who claims to not like you (but are truly your biggest fans) are oooing, ahhing, and egging that hating ass bitch on.

➣ I’m seeing a bus. You may have been betrayed and thrown under the bus a few times before. This is the pile of my Lilith placements. Your power is your ability to garner attention, both good and bad. You attract a lot of envy. The ugliest emotion, in my opinion. It’s partners in crime with greed.

➣ For some of you, I am getting the message that all of this underserved hate has sent you into a dark mental space and driven you to take an attempt on your life. And if you like my messages or my readings please believe me when I say this,

I know you are meant for greatness. I picked up on your energy and you found this reading for a reason. Just like the Universe and everything within it, we go through cycles. And I know this is a long, painful cycle but it will come to an end and you will get out of this darkness. From the bottom of my heart, I feel your importance and I am happy you are here to share this moment with me. Keep swimming, I support you, the Universe supports you. The sun is rising and is offering you a new beginning.

➣ In this dark period in your life, the negative attention may have outweighed the good. I see a theme of being outcasted and isolated. Severe bullying. For some, even abuse. Like pile one, you have gone into hermit mode and isolated yourself from the unfair judgment of the world.

➣ But head up muffin, the scales are balancing, and the wheel of judgment is turning in your favor. Following the wheel of fortune, you got the fucking emperor!!! You will come out of this on top. The people who kicked you while you were down will have to swallow their pride and kneel to shine your shoes while you sit rightfully on the throne. The public scrutiny you face needs to balance itself out karmically.

➣ Think Megan Thee Stallion. I won’t bring up any of her business, but if you've been keeping up with social media, there is a good chance you are well aware of it. That woman has gone through the unimaginable, one traumatic event following the other all while facing an obscene amount of public scrutiny. She had to go into solitary and off the internet to rebuild her life. But guess what??? MY GIRL STAYS ON TOP>>>>> After all the bullshit she endured, she’s coming out on the top of the charts, brand deals with major conglomerates, she is the people’s princess.

➣ That’s going to be you. You have dealt with a lot of injustice in your life, now you’re coming out of your “rehabilitation” and all of the people who spent the better half of their day attempting to tear you down will have to watch your rise like a phoenix and fucking weep.

➣ People were constantly taking from you , now the universe (whatever you want) is preparing to give you the power to replace what you have lost tenfold. Ace of wands, I see that life is handing you the metaphorical talking stick. The king stick. You are being blessed with a flame in your belly (activated solar plexus chakra) and the chance to completely reinvent yourself.

➣ There is a lot of king and authority messages here, the ball is in your court. You are being released from the shackles of public perception and these next few months will be filled with inspiration and willpower to prove everybody wrong and showcase your strength. I feel like a good chunk of this group will get chances to be in positions of authority or importance.

➣ This is going to sound silly but I got this exaggerated imagery of a mean person calling you poor and ugly but the next year you drive past them in a Bugatti with their sugar boo in the passenger seat. HELLOOOO.

➣ With the lovers, I see you are coming in union with what is rightfully yours. In the grand scheme of cosmic law, you are owed good fortune and it is on its way. With the tower, I see an explosion and people fleeing. You’re going to pop out stronger than ever and that’s going to scare people cause whatever superiority they got from painting you as inferior is going to blow away and their true scummy nature is going to be seen.

➣ After this, there may even be people who pretend to be your friends and claim they supported you all along. Have faith in your discernment. I have faith in your discernment. It will all be okay pookie.

➣ Advice: Just keep swimmin' my love. <3

"The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth."

✧ Pile Three ✧ (queen of wands, knight of pentacles, 6oC, page of pentacles, 10oW, 3oW, the hermit)

It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally.

Phenomenal woman,

That's me.

Awaken.

➣ Regardless if you’re a woman, a man, somewhere in between, or none of the above, you are approaching a newfound understanding of your sexuality. For some of you, it is a full-blown sexual awakening.

➣ Some people here are realizing their sex appeal, others are coming to terms with their lack of sexual attraction, some are learning what they like in sex and what they’re attracted to. Yes bae, all of it; the whole spectrum of sexual exploration is here.

➣ There is an emphasis on attraction to yourself. You will see a huge shift in your physical appearance. Yes, your style will change but the main reason for this glow up is because you shifted the perception of yourself into a higher light. You’re allowing yourself to feel desirable and embracing the aspects of yourself you once shunned.

➣You will carry yourself in a higher regard and this will open doors for you. Look into the mirror and give yourself a nice smack on the ass. Your self-esteem is sexy.

➣ Pile one is on a watery emotional self-love journey, this pile is all about fire and finding out where sexuality and passionate relations fit into your life. 5th house (flings, passions, hobbies), 8th house (sex and rebirth), 9th house (adventure, connecting with your soul tribe).

➣ I asked for a song to tie up this message in a cute little bow and I got the 639 HZ frequency. This is the frequency of love, radiation, and positive energy. It is the frequency of the heart. The heart chakra is opening significantly during this glow-up.

➣ You are opening yourself to adventure and sending a high vibe out into the ether. I see a sunflower and the queen of wands is decked out in bright yellow, you are stepping into the spotlight and attracting a lot of attention. I would say Venusian attention because the aura here is very romantic and collaborative. It's like the universe is spraying you with extremely magnetic pheromones and having opportunities run at you.

➣ You are going to get a lot of offers. Love offers, career offers, party invitations, you’re going to be involved with exclusive circles. You are realizing your self-worth and now you’re attracting things and people who also see value in you.

➣ This isn’t going to resonate with everyone, but I sense that for a few of you, there is going to be a reconnection with a past lover or a past friend from your childhood (or just the past in general). I also sense a theme of using your attractiveness and people’s attraction to you to your benefit. Somehow monetize your appeal.

➣ It is like you finally released your ugly duckling mentality and you woke up and went, “WOAH, what can I do with this???” Lmao you discovered you’re an undercover member of the pretty privilege club.

➣ Yeah, with the page of pentacles and the ten of wands, I’m seeing an entire life path open up for you. Your passion and fiery energy will get you places, and you’ll go on adventures exploring your opportunities with that. Some of you will even become spicy content creators or do some risque sex work. Orrrrrr just venture into a career path you weren’t courageous enough to do before.

➣ You’re a giant magnet energetically right now (I mean c’mon, 639 HZ???) you’re attracting a lot of romantic suitors. But watch out, they’re not all good suitors.

➣ I pulled another card and got Justice in reverse. Some people will try to get over on you. Also, the person on the justice card looked strangely untrustworthy when I flipped it over. Once again, practice your discernment.

➣ Your romantic and passionate life is taking off and it's going to be extremely exciting, especially if you are coming out of a period of stagnancy. However, with the 3 of wands and the hermit, the cards remind you to remain centered and plan bigger. Your passion, attractiveness, and sexuality will amount to more than hookups and shallow relationships if you invest in yourself wisely.

➣ You are unlocking an advantage you have in this lifetime. Open yourself to career endeavors, social networking, and creating a strong foundation for your talents and hobbies. Yes, date and have fun but don’t spend all of your energy in one place. Your attention and your energy are your greatest currencies.

➣ To expand on the hermit, I need to emphasize you are going to be getting a LOT of attention soon (I’m getting Sun-conjunct-Venus energy, is that in your natal chart or is there a transit with Venus right now or something?). You will receive more eyes on you than average and this might overwhelm you and push you into hermit mode.

➣ That is okay, let life flow. During those moments to yourself, dream big because you have the power to pull your dreams into your reality. You will meet lifelong friends during this period. I am sensing a power trio for some of you.

➣ Advice: To wrap up, we all know attractiveness is social currency, and you are coming into a great deal of social wealth baby. But please spend it wisely and do not lose yourself in the crowd. Keep up with your self-work and take introspective breaks away from people so you can figure out how to best utilize this awakening for you.

➣ You look really good in red currently. Red hair. Red lips. Red clothes. Red jewelry. The color red is bringing you a lot of abundance. Okay bye. MUAH. <3

"I said mom, I am a rich man."

✧ Pile Four ✧ (page of swords, knight of cups, wheel of fortune, temperance, 7oP, the devil rev.)

Ascension.

➣ OMG I’m so sorry, I wrote a novel for the other piles but this one is going to be short. Maybe you were drawn to another pile mainly and this is your secondary pile. BUT IT’S SHORT BECAUSE ITS FUCKING AWESOME.

➣ The song I channeled for you was named “Elniño Prodigo” and I want to say the artist is Love Record but I'm not too sure. This means child prodigy. When I was laying out your cards, I got this sense of anticipation and impatience. Theeeennn BOOM the wheel of fortune, temperance, and the seven of pentacles smack me in the face.

➣ Oh me oh my, you are chilling in the universe’s womb just BAKIN’ being prepped for a complete rebirth. You are a prodigy, you are not meant to live an ordinary life, you are being prepared for a unique journey. I know this is going to sound hard to believe because I feel like with this pile, a large portion of your life was spent in waiting.

➣ Do you feel like you are a late bloomer? If so, trust me, it is for a reason. Whatever you build in this lifetime will be built slowly and have a solid foundation because your legacy is meant to withstand the test of time and last long after you leave this Earth. This period you’ve spent waiting is you getting your ducks in a row and sowing your seeds for the next evolution of you. I said something like this in my last pac, if that's you, heyyyyyyy i’m glad your energy stuck around, i love it.

➣ Do you have Pisces or 12th House placements mixed with Saturn significance? Whatever this glow-up exactly holds for your future is a secret. It’s the universe’s divine surprise to you. I did not get any energy detailing exact events, just something big in the works behind the scenes is making its way to you.

➣If you’re reading this pick a card there’s a good chance you’re spiritually attuned and can feel this cosmic shift happening. Something about your energy is so excited. I imagine a hyper dog being held back by a leash because it's not quite time yet.

➣ If you’re in a period where you’re not seeing any life progression and it's causing you anxiety, relax, you are on the right track and you are where you need to be. You have not wasted time, time really isn’t even fucking real. Everything is moving slowly for a reason.

➣In this “boring” period you are meant to tap into your inner world and curate what you want your life to look like. Create vision boards, imagine your future hobbies, involve things that mentally stimulate you, keep the spark of curiosity in your life, and nurture your inner dreamer.

➣ You are connecting with your sensitivity at this time, finding the sweet spot where your mind and heart meet, and letting it fuel your zeal for life. Get these thoughts on paper. Journal them, draw them, sing it, and call this energy into the 3D. Your life is about to have a complete 180. Maintain faith.

➣ You’re seeing a lot of synchronicities currently. Animal synchronicities and repeating numbers(111,444,222,1144,1414). You’ll find strangely personal messages in music and media. Maybe you’re seeing shapes repetitively pop up around you in your environment, like stars or eyes.

➣ Patience is a life lesson for this pile, there is a lesson to be learned in the stillness of your life. You are mentally restless right now, slow your body down and try out parasympathetic regulation techniques to calm your racing thoughts. Go swimming, take a class, try out a new hobby. In this “womb” era, enjoy your last moments of stillness because your life turns up a notch. I’m not even getting rebirth, I’m getting BIRTH. No matter your age, your life is truly beginning in this new season.

➣ Advice: I see a lot of clouds. I see angel symbolism. You’re ascending. You’re shedding old skin, letting go of dead weight, and you’re growing wings, getting ready to experience life to the fullest. Maintain hope that your life will pick up pace and become exciting again.

➣ Find peace in this waiting period. Listen to bird sounds!!! They are going to calm your mind and elevate you emotionally. You’re growing your wings and getting ready to take off like a bird, you should learn from the best. Okay, I love you, the universe loves you, MUAH <3.

"Your sim has gone stir-crazy!"

watching tumblr shit on my images in real time is just...

On a lighter note, I know some of these piles are heavy, I posted my first reading two days ago, and the support I received has brought so much joy into my life. I love doing this, if you like this me doing this, I'll do this forever. I am eternally grateful for all of you likes, reblogs, and comments <3

Also, some of these piles are connected, feel free to poke around and pick up on messages spread out for you. okay, I'm done. kisses! MUAH

#pick a card #pac #pick a pile #tarot #tarot reading #glow up #arijackz #astrology observations

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anisespice · 1 year

Text

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq!

two || three

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.

pairing: various x gn!reader [ kags, akaashi, atsumu, kenma ]

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, mentions of cheating, cringe descriptions that aren’t 100% accurate lol

notes: based this off how my friend and i speculate about how the men in hq would be like in bed sooo it’s really just a little jokey joke, so have fun with her :] thinking of making more parts of this with other characters, lemme know what you guys think, and hope you enjoy!!

To be completely honest, KAGEYAMA wouldn’t know much about the list aside from maybe surface level stuff. He knew it was full of nonsensical speculations, nothing but weird projections put onto strangers by other strangers who found them attractive. It creeped him out a little, so that’s as far as he wished to know.

Plus, he had no reason to care about some dumb list—He had you.

“Have you seen this bullshit?!” Well, speak of the devil.

All the training in the world couldn’t have prepared his reflexes for the amount of whiplash you put him through in the span of ten seconds. There he was, minding his business in his dorm room, chilling with a volleyball, then BAM; he’s getting bum-rushed by his 5-foot-something significant other with smoke coming through their ears.

Good thing you had a key because the setter was certain you would’ve smashed right through his door by sheer force.

“Huh??” Frankly, you startled the poor man. The ball that was in the middle of being set toward the ceiling came barreling down on his face, causing him more disorientation. “See—ouch. See what?”

You stood there next to his bed, one hand on your hip while the other practically shoved your phone in his face. He squinted at the harsh light, but eventually his eyes adjusted enough to read the post. His lips formed a confused pout. “That stupid, horny hit-list? What about it?”

“What about it? Some bitch put you on there! Just listen to this garbage, ‘Tobio Kageyama. 6’2ft stoic, and mean Dom who’s pretty damn good with his hands. It’s obvious how much of a perfectionist he is, so be ready for some killer overstimulation. Probably won’t make any noise, and doesn’t know much about aftercare. Overall score: 6/10’. Are they deadass right now?”

Ah. Now he gets it.

He figured it was only a matter of time, homie was very much aware of his status around campus, not to mention being a looker to top it off. However, he figured being in a relationship would lessen his chances of him ending up on it, especially since you weren’t a secret or anything. Guess that list really had no morality after all. Who’d have thought?

“I mean, the audacity to put your name on it knowing damn well if anyone even tried it, I’d gorilla glue all their holes shut.” He snorted, face scrunching slightly at your unusual threat. But, something told him deep down you were being serious.

You continued ranting while pacing back and forth. “But not only that, they completely warped your entire sexual identity just because, what, you know how to mind your business and happen to have a RBF?”

“RBF?” He tilted his head, making you halt mid-rant to admire the adorable sight. How dare he? You were in the middle of seething, dammit.

“Resting Bitch Face.”

He frowned. “I don’t have that.”

“Tobio, you’re doing it right now.”

He huffed, looking away from you in defiance. His face was fine, he thought, a perfectly normal face indeed. A handsome face, he’d even say. Immediately picking up on his sourness, you chuckled softly before reaching over to cup his face and make him look at you. Kageyama instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, his frown still apparent, but a little less heavy once it met your soft gaze. “Don’t be pouty.”

“I’m not…” he mumbled, cheeks squished under your palms. A small blush bloomed across the apples at your teasing giggle. “You’re the one that’s upset, not me. Why do you care if they misrepresented how I am in bed? Shouldn’t you be happy it’s inaccurate?”

Now it was your turn to huff, your bottom lip sticking out. Kageyama’s eyes honed in on its pillowy surface instantly, licking his own as he restrained himself; there’d be plenty of time for that later.

“I mean, yeah but…I don’t know. It just…feels icky knowing there are random people around campus theorizing about your dick size in the comments, or if you cry after an orgasm. The least they could’ve done was be a little accurate if they’re gonna cause us all this trouble.”

“Us? Pretty sure I’m the victim here. Who sucks at aftercare, apparently.” He scoffed, of which earned another giggle from you. “Besides, the only person I care about knowing any of that stuff is right here. They can take their 6/10 and fuck right off. I know my baby would rate me higher than that, right?”

You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact as you playfully ignored his obvious bait for praise. Kageyama doesn’t take too kindly to that. He softly glared at you, arms tightening their hold around your waist and pulling you even closer to his toned chest.

“Oh, it’s like that, huh? That’s fine.”

Before you could register what happened, your boyfriend swept you up without struggle and gently tossed you onto his bed. “However, I will admit they were right about one thing.”

With a slight bounce, you couldn’t fight the delighted squeal as you watched him prowl towards you.

“Oh, really? And what’s that?”

He hummed softly, large hands traveling up your legs from the ankles all the way to your inner thighs before spreading them open to rest in between them. Finding home there for a brief moment, Kageyama practically smothered you under his gaze, attention once again zeroing in on your lips. He could feel his restraint dissipating, biting his own lip before slowly leaning down to place warm kisses against your skin. He left no spot unloved until he eventually stopped at your ear, his warm breath sending chills down your spine.

“I’m pretty damn good with my hands.”

Like Kageyama, AKAASHI didn’t care to know much about the list. He knows a good chunk of guys that ended up on it personally, and based on the conversations he’s heard them have it sounded like nothing but trouble.

And he was right to assume such.

One afternoon a few of his friends came barreling toward him during his break in between classes, each sporting various expressions that ranged from extreme determination (Bokuto) to absolute amusement (Kuroo), while the third looked as if they were brought there against their will (Kenma). Slowly, Akaashi lowered his sandwich with a sigh; so much for a peaceful lunch.

“AKAASHI.” Bokuto exclaimed, hands slamming down on the table to keep himself from nearly toppling the man. Akaashi flinched slightly at the volume, but before he could reprimand him, Bokuto grabbed him by his shoulders and looked him square in the eyes with grand intensity. “How could you be so selfish? I thought I raised you better than this, young man!”

The former setter gaped; that’s not at all what he was expecting to hear. It didn’t help when Kuroo started busting a lung, both hands on his knees as his hyena-esque laugh bounced off the walls of the canteen. Kenma side-eyed the business major before going back to playing some game on his phone, offering the ravenette a soft greeting, then helping himself to a chair.

Akaashi acknowledged the pudding-head with a small nod, sharp eyes redirecting back to his senior as he removed the rough hands from his shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you cheating on [_____]!”

Akaashi blinked. Then, like a switch, his eyes nearly popped out his head as he registered the spiker’s words.

“WHAT.”

Kuroo, after finally catching his breath, gave a hearty exhale as he placed a hand on Bo’s shoulder. “Way to rip off the bandaid, buddy. Thought we agreed to work our way up to that part.”

“Screw that! I demand answers! Can’t believe I’ve been friends with a no good, cheating scumbag, hmph.” Akaashi blanched at the harsh accusation, falling deeper and deeper into a state of pure shock.

“Wait, hold on—”

“Whoa there, let’s not jump to conclusions. The man hasn’t even gotten the chance to speak for himself. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this whole thing.” Kuroo reasoned, but was obviously eating it up. Kenma lightly scoffed.

“You’re so full of shit.” He voiced, not even bothering to lift his gaze away from the game. Kuroo gasped dramatically at the dig, hand over his heart and everything. The former paid him no mind.

Akaashi abruptly stood. “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on? I’m not cheating on [______], who’s spreading such a thing?”

Bokuto squinted. “Oya? Then how do you explain this?”

Like incriminating evidence being shown to a jury, the silver-haired tank pulled up the updated version of the list on his phone that was posted over an hour ago. Akaashi was still perplexed until he saw it. His name. Oh, god no.

Akaashi snatched the device to get a closer look just to make sure it wasn’t some sort of prank. To his dismay, the post was legit. Oh, god no.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

“Uh huh, busted your ass!” Bokuto snatched the phone back only for Kuroo to then take it from him. “Hey!”

Clearing his throat, the sly bastard began reading the caption. “‘Keiji Akaashi. 6’0ft tall, pretty boy with intelligent steel blue eyes. His mysterious nature and bored expression would automatically put him under the Dom category, but I can see right through him.’ Wow, they make you sound like some sort of experiment.”

“Don’t read that outloud!” Akaashi lunged forward, only to be stopped by a large hand in his face. “Omf-! Fohkuto-son!”

“What? Ashamed of yourself? You should be, traitor!”

Kuroo continued. “‘What many would believe to be the strong silent type, I believe there’s a sensitive side to him. That’s why I declare Keiji Akaashi to be a Switch with Sub-leaning tendencies, who’s not afraid to be vocal and would 100% let you peg him. 11/10. Would fuck again.’ Holy shit, this is gold.”

“Jesus Christ,” Akaashi felt like his entire face was on fire. This was like his worst nightmare come to life, and apparently now everyone on campus could participate in his misery. “This cannot be happening to me…”

“Oh, me, me, me. Is that really all you can say for yourself? What about [_____], huh? How do you think they’d feel after finding out their boyfriend is an unfaithful—”

“I DIDN’T CHEAT ON MY S/O, BOKUTO-SAN. That isn’t even the purpose of the list, you should know, you’re on it too!”

Bokuto gaped. “I am??”

Akaashi groaned, sinking back into his seat. His hands dragged across his face in distress, feeling as if he aged ten years from this mishap alone. But, Bokuto had a point—How were you feeling about all this? Had you seen it?

Luckily, he didn’t need to wonder for long.

“Keiji!”

He flinched, as did the two stooges hovering near him. Kenma was the only one to greet you normally while everyone else resembled deer in headlights; this immediately alarmed you. What you expected to be a surprise lunch with your boyfriend since your class let out early, now felt as if you just walked in on an intervention. After taking in the weird atmosphere, you eyed Akaashi with mild confusion. “Uh…is everything okay?”

“It’s all good, [_____]! Turns out my best friend isn’t a scumbag after all. Akaashi is definitely not cheating on you, so no harm done!”

You did a double-take in bewilderment; didn’t expect that. “O..kay?”

Bokuto looked so proud of his declaration, chest puffed out whilst Kuroo looked like he could barely hold it together. Your boyfriend clearly had seen better days, frown heavy as he glared at his seniors; all he wanted was to eat his goddamn sandwich.

Eventually, you decided to just take a seat next to him, pulling out your own food while the two former captains began bickering about who knows what. Kenma continued to play his game, happily taking the apple slices you graciously slid over to him as a boost. After you got situated, Akaashi instantly plopped his head right on your shoulder, desiring comfort from the emotional turmoil he just endured.

You kissed away the stress lines on his forehead before opening up your bento, already having an idea in mind as to what’s gotten him so deflated. But, you spared him any further humiliation—You planned to report that stupid post later anyways.

You chilled outside the locker rooms waiting for ATSUMU, upon his request to walk you back to the dorms after practice was over. You told him there was no need, that you’d be fine walking back on your own, but he insisted.

And you were so glad he did.

While you were waiting, you mindlessly scrolled on Twitter until a familiar username caught your attention; @/FckIt22. Everyone knew of the infamous ‘Horny Bucket List’ going around and boosting already inflated egos, speculating and even sometimes outing people of their most lewd fantasies with popular guys on campus. You couldn’t help but watch the drama unfold every time there’d be a new update to the list, eating it up whenever it’d be someone you knew, or someone you would’ve never guessed to be on it.

And to your surprise, after you refreshed the page, it was both. Your mouth was slightly ajar when a picture of your boyfriend’s boyish grin greeted you, in his volleyball jersey, soaked with sweat and hair pushed back from his forehead; looking like a full course meal.

Eagerly, you tapped in to read the thread attached to the image, intrigued to know what was said about Atsumu until…

“...The fuck?”

As quick as your excitement came, there it went. Right there, in big letters for the whole campus, no, the entire internet to see was your boyfriend’s face attached with someone else’s name. And not just any someone.

‘O S A M U M I Y A’

You didn’t know whether to laugh, or what. Could they’ve seriously not been bothered to make sure they had the right twin? And not only that, they mentioned you in the thread. Didn’t bother to @ you, though.

That only pissed you off even further.

‘Osamu Miya. 6’1ft of muscle and charm, whose insatiable appetite won’t be satisfied until he’s had your thighs wrapped around his face for an hour AT LEAST. Not the most expressive, but make no mistake that he’s the ultimate brat tamer; no doubt [______] could attest to that.’

“I know damn well they didn’t just…” You muttered in disbelief, shaking your head as you read on.

‘But, if you’re good, he mayyyy let you top. Don’t think for a second you’re in control tho. Unlike his brother, he’s got Dom energy for daysss. Doubt this man does anything but grunt and groan, but overall he still gets an 8/10. Yum ♡.’

Wow.

You weren’t expecting to see your future brother-in-law painted in this light today, but supposed there was a first for everything. To be fair, whomever ran the account sure knew how to sell a fantasy, but it didn’t excuse the lack of decorum they had. You felt a little disturbed, almost violated. One could only imagine how the twins would feel if they saw this…

“Hey there, stranger.” You jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion; speak of the devil. Atsumu wrapped his arms around your middle from behind, placed his chin on your shoulder, and gave a loving squeeze. “Ya ready?”

“Uh, yeah.” You quickly locked your phone.

A little too quick.

A small pout formed on his face. He immediately called you out. “What’re ya lookin’ at?”

“Hm?”

“Your phone, y’were lookin’ at something.” Noticing your shifty behavior, his grip around you loosened a little as he strained his neck to look you square in the face. It wasn’t long before a teasing grin spread across his. His eyebrows wiggled, “Ya lookin’ at porn?”

With a roll of your eyes, you lightly jabbed him in his bicep. “Yeah, ‘Tsumu. I was totally looking at porn. You got me.”

Atsumu shrugged, sporting an even bigger grin as he started to sway both of you. “Hey, no judgement here. But don’t forget ya got the real deal right here, darlin’. Whenever you need it, your lovely boyfriend will take care of ya. All’s ya gotta do is ask.”

He spun you around in his hold, and grabbed your hips. With low, tired eyes he stared deeply into your soul. His lopsided grin brought more damage to your already fluttering heart, not to mention his semi that was now pressed against your stomach; this man had been dying to have you in his arms for a while, it seemed. However, even with this sexual tension growing between the two of you...you just couldn’t help yourself.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Osamu.”

Immediately, his grin dropped. You did your best to remain stoic, but the absolute disgust that took over his face was just too good. Your body began to shake with laughter, small snickers escaping you as you bit your lip to hold it back. Atsumu was not amused.

“That joke wasn’t funny back in high school, [______], still ain’t funny now…”

“Oh, this is no joke. As of today, my boyfriend’s Osamu Miya, and apparently he’s my brat-tamer. Did you know that he won’t even let me top unless I’ve been good-?”

“Knock it off.” Atsumu glared, gently pinching your sides. You squirmed, but the teasing smile you had didn’t falter. “What’s gotten into ya? Tryin’ to get a rise outta me or somethin’?”

“Oh, you haven’t seen it yet?”

“Seen what?”

You unlocked your phone and showed him the thread. Atsumu held a look of utter confusion, squinting at it until it eventually registered what you were showing him. He’d heard about the list that circled around on campus, some of his friends and teammates used to brag, or complain about it to him when they ended up on it. At first, he found it entertaining…but now?

“THE FUCK?”

He snatched the phone out of your hands to get a closer look, catching on to what you’d originally been hiding from him in the beginning; Atsumu wished it had been porn.

“That’s what I said!” You laughed, incredulously. “The nerve of them to just mix the two of you up like that. And to add me into it without even bothering to tag me? Probably ‘cause they knew I’d call them out on their bullshit. Can you believe-”

“‘Unlike his brother, he’s got Dom energy for days’?? I totally have Dom energy! We’re fucking twins, why wouldn’t I? And ‘Samu ain’t no brat-tamer! If anythin’, he’s the goddamn brat.” Somewhere on campus, Osamu sneezed.

You stood there in bewilderment. That’s what he’s concerned about?

Crossing your arms, you watched him in astonishment. “So, you don’t care that they used your picture? Or the insinuation that I sleep with your brother?”

“‘Course I do! Ya think I like the idea of his filthy mouth being anywhere near you? And usin’ my picture to clickbait my supporters is just cheap. But nothin’ pisses me off more than anyone thinkin’ that bastard has better game than me. 8/10 my ass…”

You snorted. Why were you not surprised?

Taking a small step closer you grabbed his wrist and lowered it, bringing his attention away from the phone. Atsumu now wore a heavy pout, one that you couldn’t help but to kiss; so you did. With a free hand you reaching up to his nape and pulled him downward, capturing his lips. Catching him off guard, man nearly dropped your phone when your tongue slipped into his mouth. With a soft groan, Atsumu wrapped an arm around your waist as he tilted his head in response to your sudden affection, deepening the kiss as it instantly made his mind go blank.

You pulled away too soon for his liking, the blonde blindly chasing after you with his eyes still closed as a light chuckle escaped you. You thumbed at his bottom lip, wiping some of the spit left behind as he slowly opened his eyes. Atsumu’s honey-gaze seared right into you, the hunger from early returning as the semi he sported was now fully hard, thick and heavy as it pressed against your stomach—So fucking whipped, after just one kiss. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Gazing at him lovingly, your nails raked gently through his hair as he practically melted into you. For a moment, you thought he’d start purring.

“What do they know, huh? How about you take me to my dorm and remind me why Atsumu Miya, my lovely boyfriend, is the only one who takes good care of me. Then, we’ll put that account on blast afterwards, what d’you say?”

His boyish grin reappeared, leaning in to place his forehead on yours. “Thought you’d never ask.”

KENMA felt indifferent about the list. Nothing about it made sense to him, and he left it at that. It didn’t matter how many times his friends brought it up, or how many people whispered about it during lectures—He had no opinion on it.

“You’re not even a little curious?” Hinata asked.

“No. Not in the slightest.”

The two of them were chilling in the canteen, in the student gaming section, both occupied with their own respective poisons. While Hinata farmed pixelated fruit on his switch, Kenma battled npcs on the public-shared ps4. The copper-head talked on and on about trivial subjects since they’ve arrived, ranging from tough assignments he nearly failed to new moves he tried in volleyball, while the quieter of the two responded occasionally when he felt it necessary.

Hinata gasped, looking up from his game in genuine surprise. “Whoa, Bakayama said the exact same thing. You and him are probably one of the few guys I know who aren’t interested in knowing if they’re on the list. Well, you two and Suckyshima. And Sakusa-san...and...”

This went on for a good minute.

Kenma sighed, neutral expression not matching the rapid movement of his thumbs across the controller. “It’s just some dumb list. Not like it benefits anyone.”

“Sure it does! I heard it brought lots of people together,” Hinata paused, tilting his head as he hummed in thought. “Although, I also heard it split people up, too. And caused a lot of rumors…and got that one professor fired…”

Yet another minute, passed.

Kenma couldn’t help but snort, at least finding his rambling endearing enough to stomach yet another pointless conversation about that accursed list—Why people were so obsessed with it was beyond him.

“Sounds like a lot of drama. No thanks.”

There’s silence between the two of them, the sound effects from their games being the only thing filling the space. Kenma continued rapidly mashing buttons, tongue sticking out as he concentrated on the level. However, he couldn’t help but feel like they were being watched. They were in a public space, sure, but…something definitely felt off. Choosing to ignore it, he refocused on the game. Hinata just finished up harvesting his watermelons when he suddenly let out a teasing chuckle.

“I wonder if [______] checked.”

Kenma’s thumbs stop. His character was taking incredible amounts of damage, but none of it registered after the mere mention of your name; the pudding-head flushed red. After a moment, he regained composure and went back to smashing buttons, ignoring how slippery his hands just got.

“…Why would they do that?” He muttered.

Hinata shrugged, “Well, just because you’re not curious doesn’t mean they aren’t. Believe it or not, you’re a good looking guy, Kenma-san. And if there’s a fuck-list going around where my s/o might end up on it, I’d wanna be the first to know.”

Hm. Couldn’t argue with that. He always feared you’d end up on the list, but eventually realized it only catered to a certain demographic, mostly focused on the more sociable students, so he figured there was no other reason to care. It’d be a waste of time, Kenma knew for a fact there’d be no chance of him being on it, his outward appearance be damned.

He practically spent his first couple of semesters cooped up in his room, going to class, bare minimum socializing, streamed with his camera off, rinsed and repeated. He didn’t make many new friends during that time, and met you completely by happenstance during a late night cram session in the library; how in the fresh hell would anyone think about fucking him if he rarely gave other people the time of day?

Kenma kissed his teeth, “You’re being annoying.”

Hinata merely flashed a bright grin, leaning over to playfully poke him in the arm. “Don’t mind~!”

The dirty-blonde playfully swatted at the intruding hand, earning a bright laugh and another poke from the ginger just for shits n’ giggles, before he returned back to his video game. Unfortunately, the eyes around him didn’t falter, some being less obvious about it whilst others didn’t even try to hide their blatant staring. After a while it started to get uncomfortable, even Hinata couldn’t help getting concerned once he started to notice.

“Uh…is it just me, or are we drawing in a crowd?”

“I dunno. Maybe they’re just waiting for me to get off the game…” Kenma reasoned. But deep down, something told him that wasn’t the case at all.

After some time passed with the situation not getting any better, he decided to just call it a night. There was no point in trying to relax anymore with all those people pointing and whispering. As he began to leave the game, not bothering to save his progress, his phone buzzed. Immediately, Kenma knew it had to have been you—He kept everyone else on DND. When he unlocked his phone, though, the gamer was shocked to see the overwhelming amount of notifications on the screen, all from his closest friends, minus the one he’s currently with.

It appeared they’d been trying to get his attention for a while. You must’ve been the last resort, as your message urged him to meet at your place. He didn’t need to be told twice, grateful for this escape from the prying eyes of the random bystanders.

“I’m heading over to [_____]’s. Sorry to cut our time short.”

The ginger simply smiled. “It’s okay, know you don’t like crowds. See ya later, Kenma-san!”

Kenma curtly nodded, offering a tiny smile in gratitude. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made haste for the nearest exit, keeping his gaze locked on the ground until he made it outside. He could feel the eyes following him as he left, making a cold chill run down his spine. He couldn’t wait to get to your place.

When he eventually arrived, his knuckle barely grazed the door before it flew wide open, startling him a little. Before he even had time to catch his jumping heart, you pulled him into your embrace, making him tense up slightly until he soon melted into your familiar warmth. Sanctuary.

“I’m so sorry, Ken. You must be devastated.”

“Um, I’m fine...” he mumbled. Your arms only grew a little tighter around him, as if you were…shielding him? Eventually you pulled back just enough to look at him, searching his eyes for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Why would I be devastated?”

You blinked widely at him. “You mean you hadn’t seen it?”

He squinted, visibly confused, and your silence did little to calm his wariness. Another cold chill traveled down his spine, hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up as he struggled to figure out what this feeling meant. It wasn’t until after you gave a strained smile, sympathy swirling within your gaze, did it eventually hit him like a semi truck. The flooded messages, the suffocating stares, the whispers...It couldn’t be.

He slowly began to shake his head. “No...”

You exhaled. “Yes.”

‘Kenma Kozume. 5′6ft recluse with the mannerisms of a kitten. But don’t let his meek demeanor fool you—it’s always the quiet ones you need to look out for. Though his posture may appear questionable, we all know it’s because of the monster between his legs dragging him down, baggy clothes no doubt concealing an absolute masterpiece of toned skin for you to mark up. The effort he puts into playing video games, don’t expect the same amount in the bedroom. I believe Kenma to be a lazy Switch with Sub energy, who’ll spend most of the session on his back, but that’s okay. We stan a pillow prince. 9/10.’

He looked at your phone with mild disgust. “You’re fucking joking.”

“'fraid not. It was posted less than an hour ago, probably while you were gaming with Hinata. Kuroo was the first to see it, and sent it to the groupchat. That’s why I assumed you had seen it already. Dammit, I knew someone would notice how hot you were sooner or later. And here I thought I was doing a good job gate-keeping you. ”

“Don’t just say stuff like that out loud...” He flushed, tugging on your sleeve in mild embarrassment. After composing himself, Kenma let out an irritated exhale. “What a pain. Whatever, this’ll probably blow over by tomorrow. Someone else will be posted and they’ll forget all about me. Guess I’ll just keep an even lower profile until then. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Laying together on your Snorlax beanbag chair, Kenma turned on his stomach to bury himself in the plush cushion, wanting to forget this whole nightmare. But, you weren’t gonna let him wallow so easily. Tugging on the shoulder part of his sleeve to get his attention, Kenma groaned before tilting his head slightly to peek at you with one eye through the curtain of his hair.

“You don’t understand, Ken. Bitches practically froth at the mouth for the sexy, socially awkward, gamer-boy type with the messy hair and lax attitude. I would know, I am bitches!” He snickered softly, rolling his visible eye. “My point is, this most definitely will not blow over by tomorrow. Not when they’re already hooked on the fantasy of you.”

“Exactly, a fantasy.” He said, slightly muffled. Shifting to lay on his back, Kenma rested his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. “Meaning they’ll never get to know the real thing, so eventually they’ll get bored. You shouldn’t work yourself up over this, kitten.”

“Yeah, but what if someone-”

Reaching over, Kenma gently flicked your forehead. With a soft yelp, you half-heartedly glared at him before going to retaliate with your own flick. He merely grinned, eyes full of mirth as he swiftly grabbed the hand and used it to pull you in closer. “They won’t. And even if they do, I'll just get Kuroo to tell one of his lame jokes to scare ‘em off. Problem solved.”

You lightly hit his arm, but still graced him with a laugh. Somewhere on campus, said rooster-head sneezed.

#🍁wasabi #hq #hq!#hq scenarios #hq smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #hq kageyama #hq akaashi #hq atsumu #hq kenma #the fuck-it list

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catiuskaa · 3 months

Text

missed me, missed me, now you gotta...

SUMMARY: minho wasn’t grumpy, nor he was jealous. but he hasn’t been the same ever since he fell in love with you.

REQUESTED! by a sweet annonie right here. pookie, your idea was lovely to write! lil grumpy minho, im melting… it’s a bit short, but I hope you like it! <3

CW: use of (crack) text messages to convey the plot, starring: han quokka as cupid + reader’s bsf, clingy minho as king of my heart, and ngl, type 1 diabetes fluff ahead. keep insulin shots close just in case! lol

WC: 1.1k

A/N: i love how i’m slowly turning into a minho blog/page lmaoo, only minho: the man, the myth, the legend!

[🪻☆🌫️☆🪻]

The same ringtone buzzed again during rehearsals. Its ding had sounded so many times already that it had started to get repetitive really quickly.

Minho frowned as he looked in the mirror, retouching his rolled sleeves just once more for what he secretly knew it had been more than twenty times. In the span of ten minutes. Maybe even less.

But Minho wasn’t ‘grumpy’.

He so wasn’t.

His day had been normal so far. He had no reason to be grumpy. Not one what-so-ever.

He had woken up in between your arms, and even if he had ‘complained’ about it, he loved being the little spoon. And also, his cats jumped on the bed and, just for once, none of them landed on his face.

There had been just one thing.

…

Well. Technically more than one.

You had rushed outside this morning. You claimed you didn’t have time to have breakfast with him, because you were late for something he didn’t really get. Because of that, you hadn’t come over to the JYP building with him. He had to drive over alone. And you hadn’t pecked him goodbye at the entrance like always.

But he. Wasn’t. Grumpy.

Not. At. All.

> sunggie: girl, did you hide his cats or smth?

< minho’s owner: lol, wdym dude?

> sunggie: he looks like he’s going to kill me.

> sunggie: And he loves me! Wtf??

“Jisung-ah.”

Han shrieked in his place in the sofa, his phone almost falling off his hands. He quickly turned it off, hoping that the grumpy dancer hadn’t seen the old or new messages.

“Who were you texting?” Minho frowned, deeper this time.

“Oh.” Jisung chuckled. “Just checking in on noona.”

“My girlfriend?” The way Minho enunciated the title felt a bit possesive. Jisung eyed at him weirdly for a second. Even he felt weird himself.

Jisung nodded sheepishly, turning his phone back on but quickly opening a random app.

“Yeah. I owed her a call back.” He shrugged, nonchalantly accepting that he had opened Subway Surfers, and started to play.

As the catchy music came from Han’s phone, Minho shook his head.

Not grumpy.

Not at all.

But the thought that you had been texting Han and didn’t text him —instead of him— did funny things in his chest.

Now, keep in mind that Minho would never describe himself as a jealous man.

He trusted you with his cats, of course he trusted you regarding your relationship. But he had barely got a hold of you all day. And Han had. By call and text. Like he was doing now.

Not grumpy.

Sure.

< minho’s owner: you dead yet?

Jisung groaned.

> sunggie: no! you made me lose my score!

> sunggie: and I don’t have any keys! ㅠㅠ

< minho’s owner: sucks to suck, lol

< minho’s owner: but what’s wrong with my future husband? did you do something?

> sunggie: he’s moody since he came in this morning.

> sunggie: you weren’t here tho. smth wrong between ya?

< minho’s owner: no…? just had to run to work early…

And then, something in Jisung’s paboracha brain connected. Probably because of how he had named your contact in his phone.

> sunggie: omg

< minho’s owner: what?

> sunggie: that corny dumbass

> sunggie: he’s so stupid

< minho’s owner: bitch what is it???

> sunggie: he’s moody bc u didn’t come in with him today!

You hesitated. Could that be it?

< minho’s owner: really? u think so?

> sunggie: bitch I know so!

> sunggie: imma go get boba for the boys, get your ass here and come w/ me

Jisung’s brain started to work at cupid’s speed.

< minho’s owner: omw. be there in 5’

“Guys, I’m gonna go get boba. Do any of you want something?”

The rest of the gang blabbered something while some kept going over the steps of the choreography and the others rested on the couch, doozing off or on their phones. Han quickly noted down everyone’s orders, not before being squinted down by Minho. He held back a shiver.

“Clingy prick…” Jisung mumbled, leaving quickly.

He walked out of the JYP building, waiving and half bowing to the staff members and other artists in the building.

< minho’s owner: just parked! ^^

Jisung entered the boba place next to the building, smiling at the cashier as he read down the orders on his note app, and stood aside, waiting for the drinks.

“Hey!” You smiled widely at him, taking off your scarf, merely leaving it hanging on your shoulders. He clapped your hand, playfully slapping your back.

“Working hard?” Jisung snickered, pointing at the bag on your other hand.

You side-eyed at him, giggling softly.

“Took some snacks before heading off.” You shrugged. “We can sneak these in, right?”

Jisung scratched the back of his neck. “We’ll… come up with something.”

You both struggled carrying the drinks, teasing each other and betting who’d make a mess first. But all giggles came to an end when the security guard stared at you.

“Name and business?” He asked in a low huff.

Your body stiffened.

“She’s my sister,” Han chimed back. You were in fact far from being his sister, but that didn’t matter when the guard seemed to nod. “She’s just helping me carry the drinks inside.”

“And the bag? What’s inside?”

You cleared your throat, smiling. “Clothes for him to change once he finishes training.” You lied.

Thank God for his imagination. And for his stupid idea of shoving your scarf and his hoodie into the bag of snacks.

“Ok. You may come in.” The guard smiled politely.

Only after the both of you had gotten into the elevator you allowed yourselves to let out a sight full of relief. You two then smirked, high-fiving.

“Thank you, bro.” You teased in a snicker.

He cackled. “You’re welcome, sis.”

You both laughed and joked until you reached the training room.

“The person you dream of is back!” Han cackled.

“Noona!” Felix grinned happily.

“Yeah, that’s me!” You cackled at Jisung’s faked frown.

You smiled and greeted everyone as you entered, leaving a certain bunny boy for last.

You sat next to him on the couch, and without missing a beat, he took your legs and layed them on his lap.

You took a sip of his drink, and he stared at you, almost with a squint.

“You’ve made me jealous of fucking Han Jisung.” He stated matter-o-factly, making you practically choke on the tapioka pearls.

You coughed. “What?”

“You texted him all evening. And me? Not even a good luck kiss this morning.”

“Aw, are you grumpy, kitten?” You grinned teasingly, speaking only towards him in a soft tone to his ear. You pecked his cheek.

He needed more of those.

Grumpy, huh?

“Yes. Very.” He mumbled, hiding his blushed and pleased grin in the crook of your neck. “Need more kisses.”

“Well, you know how it goes.” You mumbled in a snicker. He hummed at you, waiting for you to explain.

You kissed his forehead softly, his hands stroking your thighs.

“Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me.”

~Kats, who can write this in one sit, but can’t figure out how chemistry works (yes have exams, why did I choose this for myself, help)

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babyleostuff · 2 months

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jealousy, jealousy | choi seungcheol

fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!cheol x gn!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.1k

. . . seungcheol getting jealous of a fictional character

“cheol, it’s just a fictional character,” you sighed, trying to explain for the tenth time since you got out of the movie theatre that, yes - the main lead was hot, but no - you wouldn’t ever leave seungcheol for him.

sometimes you wondered if he was turning thirty or ten next year.

you didn’t mean to be all heart eyes at the movies, but it wasn’t your fault the main lead was good looking, not that it even mattered - seungcheol had his celebrity crushes too, but you didn’t go around and whine about it. “you know it doesn’t mean anything, baby,” reaching over, you ran your fingers through his hair, like you always did whenever he was stressed or anxious, turning him into a puddle in your arms in a second.

“mhm,” your boyfriend mumbled, and gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, not sparing you a single glance. you sighed and dropped your hand.

any other time you’d find this situation quite amusing - cheol jealous of a fictional character you happened to gush over, if not for the fact that you knew exactly how this would end.

with a silent treatment and an extremely pouty boyfriend.

normally you found that side of him very endearing, but dealing with a jealous coups was not an easy task, partially because your boyfriend happened to be one of the most stubborn people in the world.

now it was him and his pout against the world.

“you know i love you,” you said, and turned your body away from him towards the window.

if he was going to act like a child, then so be it.

“i’m a fucking idiot” seungcheol grumbled to himself, pulling his shirt over his head with a bit too much force, hitting himself in the head in the process. “fuck.”

he couldn’t get the image of your soft gaze and gentle voice out of his head, when you tried to cheer him up in the car after he acted like a complete asshole. he was the last person that deserved your sweet affection, and he was so mad at himself for acting like a fucking toddler instead of pulling the car over and throwing himself into your arms to beg for forgiveness.

“are you okay?” suddenly your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. you peeked through the door, and rubbed your eyes, already wearing his t-shirt that you always wore to sleep. the genuine concern in your eyes, and your adorably sleepy expression made seungcheol want to bang his head against the wall.

how could he be so stupid, and get jealous and angry at you for finding a fictional character attractive?

"uh, i'm fine, i just hit my head," he said quietly, not really looking at you. usually you’d immediately coo at him, and kiss the spot where he hit himself - of course you knew how much seungcheol loved your attention when he injured himself, even if it was just a scratch, but now he could only watch as you nodded and left without a word.

he sighed, picking up his toothbrush to finish up his bedtime routine. there was no way he’d sleep in your bed tonight, seungcheol wouldn’t be able to lay next to you knowing how much he hurt you.

besides, there was so way you’d allow him to cuddle you after how he acted, and that was something he would not be able to stand.

looking at his reflection in the mirror for the last time, seungcheol turned all of the lights in the bathroom, and padded over to your shared bedroom to take his pillow, and a blanket from the closet.

he’d take the couch, it’d be less painful than sleeping in the same bed without being able to hug you.

“what are you doing?” you suddenly asked, your voice laced with sleep. you pushed yourself up to take a better look at your boyfriend, who was standing at his side of the bed with what looked like his pillow and a blanket, his expression reminiscing one of a kicked puppy. “you have to be kidding me, choi seungcheol.”

you looked so disappointed, and… annoyed? that was his last straw, and fuck every part of his dignity he had left - he’d beg on his knees for you forgiveness if that’s what it took.

“ ‘m sorry, okay?” he said, his voice breaking. you could bet that if you turned the lights you’d see your boyfriend all teary eyed, not that it would surprise you - seungcheol was usually quite emotional when it came to you and your fights.

“i know there was no reason for me to get jealous and act like the biggest asshole about it, you didn’t deserve any of it,” he gripped the pillow tighter as if it would help. “and then i got so embarrassed of myself, i didn’t have the guts to tell you how sorry i was. please forgive me baby, i’m so sorry.”

“oh, cheol,” you sighed and opened your arms. without a second thought, the boy threw the pillow aside and ran into your embrace, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist as if he was afraid that you were about to run away.

“i'm not mad at you,” you pressed your cheek against the side of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. “okay, maybe i was at first, but that's only because you seriously act like a child sometimes.” seungcheol groaned, as if he didn’t know that already.

you sat like that for a moment - your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, with his head buried in your neck where he placed gentle kisses, just like the fight never happened.

"did you seriously want to go to sleep on the couch?" you asked, kissing his forehead.

cheol leaned back, revealing the pouty lips, and his big doe eyes you knew so well. you could swear some day he’d be the death of you. "yeah, i wanted to. that was the plan," he admitted shyly, his thumbs running over your exposed hip.

"you're so dramatic, cheollie," you sighed and shook your head, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "why didn't you want to sleep with me, though?"

your boyfriend groaned again, hiding in your neck like it was his safe space, pushing you back onto the bed with the force that he tackled you in. "i wouldn't be able to cuddle you," he murmured after a short while, like he was scared to admit it.

"again, i didn't hear you." the truth was you heard him perfectly fine, but what was better than making your usually confident boyfriend shy and blushy.

"i wouldn’t be able to cuddle you!" he huffed, looking at you again. "happy?"

"very much, darling," you smiled at him. “now stop being a drama queen, and come to bed.”

seungcheol nodded like a child that was just promised an ice cream, and scrambled out of your embrace, quickly grabbing his pillow from the ground. you smiled to yourself, watching your big teddy bear of a boyfriend crawl back into bed.

“no more fighting, okay?” you murmured, your cheek pressed against his chest. “we just wasted a perfectly fine afternoon on your whining, you big baby.”

seungcheol knew you didn’t mean to make him feel bad about what happened, he was sure you were probably used to his antics by now, but it didn’t change the fact that if it was up to him he’d spend the night worshipping you in every way he could just to show you how much he loved you.

“i’m really sorry.”

“it’s okay baby. let’s just sleep, yeah?” you said, and snuck your hand under his t-shirt, dragging you nails over his tummy. “and you know i’m yours, right? and that won’t change. ever.”

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity

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nexusnyx · 1 year

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miss sunshine

pre-outbreak Joel Miller x neighbor!reader [7.3k] summary: He's always been out of reach. A fantasy. Joel was too much of everything—too handsome, too friendly, too una-fucking-vailable for any of you. Too bad his kid adores you. (What a blessing.) Too bad she uses you as a scapegoat and lands him right on his door. One bottle of wine, and Joel shows you he might be closer than you thought. 📝 I wanted to try something different. Less hurt, less end-of-the-world bullshit. Let me know your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated. ⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Explicit depictions of sex, oral (f and m receiving), riding, missionary, passionate neighbors sex, yay.

read on ao3 | masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Summer of 2002.

When the bell rings, you think it's best to ignore it.

Living alone equals a lot of privileges, but the ability to go out alone and answer the door on a random Wednesday evening was not one of them. You're wearing compromising clothes and a robe, the bottle of wine you craved was finally open, and the last thing you wanted was to be murdered before enjoying it.

Then, you hear it. Your name, followed by, "It's Miller. Joel."

Fuck.

Well—this is exactly how many of your dreams started. Although this wouldn't go like them, for him, you'd open the door.

His eyes do little to hide the once-over when the door slides open.

They go down, then back up, and he seems to catch on to the fact that you saw it. Then, he shakes his head just a little, and says, "Is Sarah here?"

Well, well, well. You lean against the door. "Did she say she was?"

Joel pierces you with his Dad Look. "Yes." Obviously, it goes without saying.

What other reason would he have, right? Clearing your throat, you feel the anxiety bubbling underneath the surface. "Uhm. She isn't," you look apologetic as you say it. As if it's your fault his prepubescent daughter uses you as a scapegoat.

His sigh is enough to make you feel how tired he is. Overworked. Exhausted.

You try to understand what might've happened before he loses his mind, "What time d'you usually come back from work? Maybe she's at a friend's. She probably thought you'd be back later than this."

He finishes rubbing both palms all over his face, and he threads one hand through his hair. "I'm usually back at nine—well, I'm supposed to be back at nine. I'm usually home by ten." That checks out, then. "But—that doesn't explain why she lied to me."

"Any special occasions coming up soon?"

Joel frowns. "Uhm. My birthday's in a few days, but—"

"Ahhhh." It shuts his mouth, the way you exclaim it so clearly. "She's brainstorming, Joel."

"Brainstorming...?"

"A gift." No daughter had easy access to what made their fathers happy. You take pity on him. "C'mon—let me scare the little one."

You walk inside without waiting for his reply, knowing Joel will make his way in. "What d'you mean, scare her?"

The noise of his boots hitting the floor makes you happy.

You take the phone out of the wall and look at him. "She always keeps that cellular phone with her when she goes out?"

"Always," he nods.

"Perfect." You know it by heart already. As you dial, you feel Joel's eyes on your house. It's the first he's ever been inside, and it makes you hyperaware of every movement of his. "It's ringing," you inform him with a grin forming.

He looks confused. More tired than anything else, but it'll make sense in a second.

"Hey, miss Sunshine!" the nickname she gave you always brings a smile to your face.

Time to put on a show. Feigning panic in your voice, you yell-whisper on the phone, "S, love, would you mind telling me why on Earth is your pops—" you fake cover your end of the line to yell, "one minute!" then you're back at whispering again, "why is he parked outside my house right now? Is there something I should know?"

"Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit—"

You're glad he can't hear her end of it. "No time for panic. Explain."

"I am so sorry, Sunny! I thought he'd be back in like, two hours or something. Oh, god, can you please cover for me? I wrote a note saying I was at your place. Sleeping there. I was gonna call you before he came back home but Jenny and I—"

"You're at somebody named Jenny?" you repeat the information, looking at Joel with a question in your eyes, and when he nods, your heart soothes at knowing she's safe. "And you didn't think to mention your brilliant idea earlier?" going for the full effect again, you yell out, "One minute, Joel!"

At least she's fast in her rambles. "Yeah, yeah. My best friend. She's trying to help me come up with a surprise for him. I'm not there often and it's never on his birthday. I wanna make it special."

"Okay. Cool. Next time, fill me in as you make the plans."

"I will, I promise. Pinky promise. You think you can convince him I'm sleeping there?" the plea in her voice is adorable.

You chuckle. "I've got you, S." Joel sighs in relief in front of you. "Just one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Be back here tomorrow first thing in the morning. 7:30 sharp. I'm gonna invite your dad for breakfast, as punishment for your lack of planning, and you'll be the one making us the pancakes," before she can even answer, you go, "Toodles!" and hang up.

When you put your phone back at the base, you turn around with a proud smile.

Joel's looking at you funny. "You're good at that," he says.

"At what? Acting?" you laugh when nods. "I was a trouble child. I'm great at lying."

"Aren't those the same?"

"Eh. A thin line separates them." You can sense his awkwardness creeping up, so you do your best to think on the spot. "Is she one to escape?"

"Not really, no." He's shuffling on his feet, uncertain of what to do in your home. "She's never done this before."

"From what she told me, she's never around for your birthday."

"That's true."

"She wants to make a surprise for you," you inform. It puts that smile on his face that makes your knees a little weak. "And now she has to be back here at seven in the morning. All is well."

He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so."

He's gonna see himself out. You swallow all the nervousness that being in his presence creates and just... goes for it. "Is it hard? Having a kid?"

That relaxes some of the tension in his shoulders. He leans on the counter of your kitchen and shakes his head. "Not really. It's a lot of work, but it's not hard. It's rewarding."

I wish my mother felt the same. You smile at the truth in his words. "I can see it's hard work." He laughs again. "Well—I had just opened that before you rang the bell," you point at the Pinot on top of the counter. "Want a glass? Unless you tell me you're 'only beer' kind of guy, then I can't help ya."

Joel looks between you and the bottle a couple of times, then looks down at himself. "I'm uh—I'm all greasy and gross from work. You sure that's the company you want for wine?"

Rolling your eyes, you walk towards your glasses cabinets. "If I told you that you can go home and shower, you'd never come back."

"And that'd be a bad thing?"

"Sure it would. You're the only person in this entire street that hasn't interrogated me on my life so far, I feel left out. Offended, even," you add with a dramatic twist. Your robe flows around you, and you can't help but smile when you see his eyes following you.

It's the way he swallows visibly, almost audibly, that plants a seed of maybe inside your head. "I'm not usually one to pry."

You place both glasses on the counter. "Neither am I."

"I know. It's why I like ya," Joel says it with eyes on the glasses instead of you. "That and the way you talk to the plants."

Your hand on the corkscrew stops, and you want to slam your forehead against the wood. "Oh, god."

His laughter is so nice. "Nah, don't be embarrassed. 's why I gave you your nickname."

"Don't be embarrassed? That's mortifying, Joel. I thought no one—wait." Had you heard him right? "What d'you mean you gave me my nickname?"

Joel's head tilts, and he's definitely a charmer kind of guy. If you do have a chance, you might be fucked. "Your nickname."

"Miss Sunshine?" He nods. "I thought that was Sarah."

"No, Sarah used it first in front of you," he pulls one of the glasses closer to him. "I said it first."

Well... that made it just as special but in a different way. You pour the wine into both glasses. "Good to know. I was under the impression she was the creative genius in the household—I just. Quick question that I never asked her: Why?"

"'Cause every mornin' before I left for work you're there on that big window," he points at the glass window that's occupies ceiling to floor, the very reason you picked this house, "talking to your plants as if you're the sun itself waking them up. 's cute."

Cute. You hate how he has the ability to make you blush. What is this, fucking high school?

"That makes sense."

Joel wipes his palms on the side of his t-shirt and then looks up at you. "If I go home with the promise of comin' back, will you let me shower?"

Let me. You're thankful your arms are covered because you're unsure of what this man is capable of when he knows the effect he has on somebody.

"I'll let you," you answer.

Joel nods and his smile is so genuine that you wonder why you never tried before.

"'kay," he takes one sip of the wine, hums in approval, and then takes a deep breath. "'m gonna go. I'll be back to interrogate you."

"I'll leave the door open."

"No—Jesus bloody Christ, are you and Sarah mad? Lock the door, Sunshine." You like it so much when he's the one that says it. "I'm serious."

"Alright, jeez," you laugh.

It's less tense than you imagined as he puts his shoes back on and walks out of your door. Joel crosses the street with a little wave in your direction, and all you can think is—what on Earth am I gonna do to him?

When he's back, Joel smells so good it's intoxicating.

It makes your brain melt.

Minty and fresh. That's what his stuff smells like, and you know the idea of that scent's now painted on the walls of your brain.

He does that stupid little dad pose, widening both arms and lifting them up in a display of 'what do you think' before walking in.

It makes you want to push him against the wall, but you do your best at behaving.

For now.

"Brand new man?" you ask.

He points at his glass of wine, untouched since the moment he left. "Will be in a sec."

You wait for him to take a sip before extending him what you held in your hand before he arrived.

Joel eyed the cigarette and, thank fuck, there was none of the annoying judgment sometimes people carried. He stops his movement to sit on the stool and asks, "You smoke in here, or are we goin' outside?"

"There's a table there. Weather's nice. D'you mind?"

Joel grabs his glass, shaking his head. "Not at all, ma'am. Lead the way."

"Ma'am," you echo him, sounding disgusted. He laughs behind you, "Who am I, Mrs. Adler?"

Still laughing, Joel answers, "Nah. Too talkative for that."

You turn around with your mouth hanging open, trying very little to look offended. "I beg your pardon. We never spoke for longer than, what, five minutes?"

Joel shrugs his shoulders. His smile is as intoxicating as his presence. "I hear things."

"You hear things?" you ask, pushing open the door that leads outside.

"I do," he sips his wine, looking to the small terrace where your little table is. "My daughter's a gossiper, little Sunshine. I think y'should know that."

Little Sunshine. Goddamn this man.

"Should I be scared, here? I haven't even told her anything, but I feel like I should be."

"If you didn't tell her anythin', than why would you be?"

"Because!" you laugh, feeling just a little out of your depth with his smoothness. You expected more closeness from Joel. Less teasing, easy banter. "You're talking like someone who knows a lot, that's all."

"And I do," he says, sounding every bit as serious.

You sit down on one of the chairs — your chair, precisely — and watch as Joel walks around a little, taking in the environment. He adds, "Did ya know," pausing for a dramatic effect, he sips again, "that in all of three months, you became one of my daughters' favorite people?"

He pins you under his gaze.

You cross your legs, and watch happily as his gaze drops to the motion.

"Did I?" if you sip at his pace, you'll be throwing yourself on his lap in an embarrassing amount of time.

Joel nods behind his cup, touching one of the many plants that cover your backyard area from floor, to walls, to ceiling. "You did," he smiles, dropping the fake seriousness. "Are you ready to deal with the six months absence? 'Cause from personal experience," he points both hands at his chest, "you try convincing yourself you won't miss her all that much 'cause, y'know, it's "just" a girl, but—fuck," he spits the last word, smiling widening around the fact. "She's so cool to have around. You'll see. Your phone's bill's about to create life."

It grounds you.

The way Joel speaks of Sarah makes you feel comfortable sitting here, and any doubts you had are sucked by the green life around you and returned as oxygen.

Joel talks about anything, no reservations.

In his absence, you doubted whether this could be any different than most times.

Would Joel be like that—like any of those other guys?

He wasn't.

Joel, as much as you hated to admit it, was an exception.

Maybe these things were fated. Simple chemistry. Similar mindsets. Whatever it was—you had it every once in a blue moon.

Your expectations settings were long ago molded to expect the least, and it takes only half a bottle of wine for you to notice the need to rear it in.

He's so damn easy. Joel goes from one topic to another like he's interested. He answers your questions with full interest, sometimes going on tangent stories, and he's the one who keeps the glasses filled.

Attentive, you take note the second time that happens. Before any of the glasses got empty, he served you both.

He compliments your taste in music and sounds genuine about it.

The weird silences you most dreaded never happen—if he's not answering you, Joel asks things. Interesting things, unlike any other neighbor.

"Was it you who decorated your place inside? 'Cause, there are very specific things in there. And you seem like the type to know what you like."

Joel was very attentive.

He asked, "and is this what you like to do with your free time?" pointing at the books you put away when you both arrived, "Drink wine, read, talk to your plants?"

"I still can't believe you've seen me doing that."

He laughed at that. "It's a pretty big window, Sunshine. Jesus Christ—you don't lock the door, you don't know people can see through your gigantic-ass window—I'm genuinely starin' to get worried here."

"Okay, first of all, I do lock my door."

"Do you?"

"'Course. Most days."

"Oh my—"

"—and! Now that I was reminded of my window's size, I'll consider buying drapes. Long, white ones. That'd be cool."

It was easy.

Talking to Joel—sharing a table with him, a glass of wine—so easy.

He never looked uncomfortable. Even if he moved a lot, Joel looked good—so damn good you lost focus every now and then—, but good with himself.

In his skin.

That was intoxicating.

When he does more than just talk and asks things; it's almost too damn easy. Was time supposed to go this way?

The first bottle end, but it's too soon.

You know it. He knows it—plays with it, in fact. Waves the empty bottle after pouring it for you and him in the air very lightly then places it on the floor.

Offering another one is almost a visceral reaction.

You don't have the same finesse he does, or at least, you think not, but if his smiles and closing proximity are anything to go by, he's enjoying himself as much as you are. "I dance around opening these a lot," you say pointing at the empty bottle. Pulling your legs closer to yourself despite the voice of your mother telling you that's a body language sign of insecurity—fuck insecurity. "Don't wanna be the wine lady on top of the plant one. But they're good. I like it."

"I only drink wine when my brother cooks," he offers.

The glass in your hands makes you feel safe enough to land this conversation where you want it. "Really? He cooks a lot?"

"More than me," Joel confesses with a shrug. "He likes to match the wine to the dish and that type o' stuff."

"I was taught how to be picky, but if I'm being honest—" you like the way Joel leans in closer when you pause it. You smile, "it's all just grapes tastin' really, really good." The sound of his damn laugh. This man's gotta have a flaw, you think. "As long as it's wine, I'm happy."

"I think that about a good beer after a day of work."

"We're all just trying to give ourselves little positive reinforcements for playing nice at doing our jobs, huh?"

Joel pauses at that. Lifts his eyebrows, then bursts out laughing. "Oh, wow—"

"Oh god", while it took you a lot of alcohol to get drunk, being open-mouthed about weird things came with the territory of feeling comfortable.

Joel made you comfortable, even if you were mortified at how amused he was.

When he's done laughing, he looks at you. "That's cute. You're the philosophical type."

"Isn't everybody who enjoys wine?"

"I don't know. I enjoy wine and I'm not one to go that far, I think."

"Hmm. Philosophizing can involve different topics. Lenses."

Joel wolf whistles. "Well, I think I'd need a couple more glasses to unlock that side of me."

"Not a problem," you get up, and resist the urge to wink at him. "I'll be back."

Your reflection in the kitchen mirrors is the confirmation of how fucked exactly you are.

It's more than just the color on your cheeks—it's the glassy screen over your eyes, making it shine like...

Well, very few times.

Fuck, you think.

Maybe that's why your palms are sweating.

He's more than you bargained for—Joel's looks were hard to move on from, but this?

Once in Rome...

Fuck it.

It's not as if either one of you was blinded to what a moonlight late-night conversation leads to.

The air outside could be felt.

When you're going back with the opened bottle, another pin drops in your mind.

He has the whole night free.

You don't break the bottle, but it's a close call.

Joel asks you the second you're back, "I have a depressing confession to make—I was tryin' to keep to it to myself, but honestly, it's all I taught about when you left."

You place the bottle in the middle of the table carefully and sit back down with your eyes on him.

He moved his chair closer again.

"Do share," you urge.

Joel looks around the yard—he seems to do it a lot when he's dipping his toes into personal places and says, "This is the first time in a—uh—I don't even know. A while. That I just... sat with another adult. Drank something nice. Talked about more than just—fucking politics, or whatever." Joel's eyes on you make you feel honored. You know he'd say that's a silly thought if you said it out loud. "It's really nice. And—the depressing part comes in now: I'm only here 'cause of my brother."

You tilted your hair. "You're here because... of Tommy?" you tried connecting those dots, but came up short.

Thankfully, Joel was here. With his smile, and his explanation.

"You see, before Sarah's mom and I decided she could spend some months here instead of just a few weekends, I was already... shutting in. His words, not mine," Joel picks up his glass for a sip, and you hang onto every word he says. "So when she came, he took me out one night. That little bar a few blocks from here—y'know Mr. O'Donovan's place?" when you shake your head, he waves a hand, "I'll take you someday—'s the only place around here that's worth a dime."

"I'll take your word for it." I hate bars. You'd go for him. With him.

"I think I know what beer you'd like," it comes off as a whisper, and you have to hide behind your glass again. "I only remember that talk because he made me promise. He's not one to ask for promises."

"What did he make you promise?"

"He was upset 'cause I kept turnin' him down every time he wanted to do his 'meet my friend and you'll be good friends' match-making shit, so he said, 'you promise that the next time someone invites you do somethin' you actually wanna do, you're not gonna turn 'em down? You'll actually fucking go, without makin' excuses to yourself'. And that sounded fair. So I promised."

You take note of the effort he's making.

The subtle 'this isn't just about what's about to happen'.

'I'll take you someday'.

'Next time someone invites you to do somethin' you actually wanna do'.

So more than just neighbors. You nod at that, smiling at him. "He seems like a good brother," you say. "Siblings can be a pain in the ass."

Joel stops his glass on the way to his lip to shake his head at you, "Oh, no no," he takes the sip first, and says, "one doesn't negate the other. He very much is a pain in my ass, trust me."

You laugh. "Older and younger?"

"Younger," he nods. "I had a lil' bit of peace here and there before he was born."

"Can't imagine you'd have it any other way nowadays."

He agrees with you.

When he doesn't, Joel scrunches his nose as he shakes his head.

He does silly faces. You wonder if he's aware of how unfair it is that he gets to look like that. Tender. Charming.

He proves your theory to be right with only half another bottle.

Put two or more adults plus a certain amount of alcohol in a closed environment, and sex will be on the table.

It makes you blush when you think... it could literally be on the table.

Joel pretends he doesn't see you growing hotter. He keeps his eyes on you as you take off the robe instead of looking at your arms. Listens to what you're saying without losing focus.

Only when you're done and asking him something in response that he looks.

It makes your throat dry when he does.

Joel has an unabashed, almost cocky tilt to his mannerisms.

You thought he'd be quieter than he is—more serious.

It's a welcomed contrast.

When sex is laid on the table, it comes because he brought up the joke you made at the beginning of the night about his lack of interest in your life, and decided to ask you things. Where you grew up. If you were always like this.

"Define 'like this'."

"Smart with the calculating glance, and sweet-talking."

"Is that me?"

"Sure is, Sunshine."

None of the questions that people usually ask.

It makes you bite your lip more than you wished—his manly, tall presence gets under your skin in ways that no previous partner managed to. Tucking your hair behind your ear, avoiding leading the conversation to the exact places you liked, giggling—those weren't things you did.

He pulled them from you.

When he does ask you the 'usual' questions, it lacks the malicious curiosity inflating others whenever they did.

Sex is laid on the table because Joel looks you in the eyes with that easiness in his shoulders and asks, "I'm not as private as you, though—all of my neighbors already know Tommy, and Sarah. You, on the other hand... the mysterious crime and horror novelist, who talks to her plants and moved from so, so far. I might not be the prying type, but I was curious about you long before my gremlin set her little claws on you. How come I never see anyone coming in or out of here? You tellin' me not one friend of yours followed you here to god-forsaken Texas?"

Your glass is almost empty, and you focus on the twirling of the red inside it to avert your mind from the way he's sitting. "The point of moving was getting away from them. All of them, as bad as that sounds," you cover your eyes with your free hand, and Joel's hand touches your forearm.

"Hey—it's fine. Don't feel bad. 'm happy you had the privilege of gettin' away. If you wanted to move away from all of it, I'm sure you had your reasons."

Looking between your fingers, you try appraising his face. "Really?"

"Really," he nods.

"Okay." You sit up straight. "And I do have people over, sometimes. You're just always at work."

"Yeah? You made friends already?"

"A few, yeah."

"Where?" he removes his hand from your forearm but drops it to your chair's armrest. The proximity is doing something to you. "I thought you worked from home."

"I do," you agree. "But I do other stuff. I'm not always here with my plants, Joel," you roll your eyes, smiling amusedly.

Joel laughs, "I wouldn't know. If I could work from home and stay with my tools and wood, I would."

"And I believe you," you nodded.

He bites on his smile before asking. "What other stuff d'you do?"

"I joined a book club," you reply, feeling all levels of boring.

From his look, he disagrees. "You got the patience for that?"

"Sure do," you nod again.

He nods, pouting in awe. "Nice," he says. "Are your book club friends givin' you the right impression of Texans?"

"I'm warming up to them," you smile.

Nodding, he asks, "Should I ask now the questions all my neighbors already know the answer to? 'Cause I am curious. Did you know Mr. Adler tried tellin' me what he 'discovered' about you? He tried looking blasé when he said that, but I'm sure he just wanted to gossip about the pretty girl who moved across from him."

"Ew, Joel," you laugh.

His eyes never leave you—you feel it even when you're not looking at him. He's laughing too. "What? It's true."

When you look back up at him, you wonder—when did you two get this close?

"You can ask," you say. "It's not that exciting, the answer. Actually, it's not exciting at all."

"Hmm, I'll be the judge of that," he sips his wine, and leaves the glass on the table. "You already know my backstory, so kill my curiosity now," he pierces with his eyes for a moment, "how on Earth is there no ring on this finger?" he points to your ring finger, then he leans in closer, and you can smell the wine in his breath; you want to kiss it until it's taste is gone, "and how is it that I never see anyone leaving here early in the mornings?"

Well. "No ring 'cause I didn't want one so far," you reply. To him, you give more honesty than anyone else who's asked. "And I have the luxury of living without it. I know many friends of mine who don't—and actually, that was part of..." don't go there. "Nevermind," you shake your head, pinning yourself to here.

"You just didn't want it?" he echos.

You nod, "Never did," there's no reason to lie to him. He smells so good—why would you lie to him? "Most men bore men, Joel."

"Wow," the smile that widens is a little baffled. A little dirty. "Should I be scared?"

At that, you burst out laughing. "Really?" You have no clocks outside, but the starry sky and the deep silence in the houses next to you are a good enough indicator. "It's been... a couple of hours, at least. We're one bottle and a half," you say, looking at your glasses shining on the table, "deep into conversation... and you wonder if you should be scared?"

Joel's still looking at you when you look back. His arm is around your chair, and your back touches it when you lean back against it. "I'll take that as a no."

"You are very far from boring."

"'m happy you think so," he smiles. He lets his eyes drop to your lips, without a care for the two palms of distance that separate your faces. It's meant to be blatant. Obvious. "Just another question..."

Here it comes, you thought. Why no kids? Why so alone? Do you feel lonely?

"Why me?" he asks.

It's nothing more than a breath.

You could ignore it. Give any answer, and close the gap. Instead, you give him honesty. "Honestly? I was so attracted to you, the second I saw you, that I was willing to even hear somethin' stupid coming out of your mouth if I could just—," do it, do it, do it. Seeing his eyes darken from up close is torture. You can feel the pulse of your heartbeat between your legs. "Now, if I were any smart, I'd be wishing for you to be bad at all the rest, because..."

This was amazing already.

Joel laughs, just a single, breathy laugh, and then does something you would never see it coming.

He pushes his chair back with the weight of his hips and drops to his knees.

The gasp you let out is enough to put the most insufferable smile on his face.

"Don't say that," he feigns hurt, as if he wasn't smiling with his eyes and lips. "It might've been a while, but I don't think I lost my touch just yet."

Joel's hands envelop your knees and slowly pull them apart. You feel like an open wire—aware of every breath your body takes and each minimum reaction to him.

You feel the wet pulse inside your panties when he kisses the skin of your inner thigh, right above your knee.

Joel smiles up at you, blinking his eyes.

Damn him, you think. His hands caress their way up your skin, and you wished you were naked already.

He seems like someone to enjoy the torture—when his hands reach the curve of your ass, they stop there, holding onto your waist.

"Have I?" he asks, kissing the other inner leg. You feel a hint of his tongue in the short kiss.

What could you say to that?

"You really haven't."

Feeling the hot breathing of his laughter on your inner thighs was not in your list for tonight.

"Do I get a kiss, then?"

He would never have to ask you twice.

Your legs wrap around his torso when you lean down to meet him for the kiss. Joel seems to love the position—he smiles at first, gripping you by the neck.

He takes his time to look at you before he dives in. A mental check-in. Maybe just admiring, just as you were from the second he kneeled.

His kiss comes from experience. A lot of fucking experience.

If you were weak in the knees before, you seal the notion that you're out of your depth there and then.

Joel kisses like no one's ever kissed you before—like he wants to explore, discover, conquer.

He licks his way inside of you with the first kiss.

His tongue isn't shy; he makes you adjust to his rhythm, to let go and open up, and when you, you're rewarded with it—he pulls up just an inch, just to whisper, "that's it," and then dives back in.

Joel wraps his arm around your shoulder and neck in a possessive manner. It's why he makes it so easy for you let him guide it—he's holding you, and you moan as you melt into him.

He wants to feel your body.

The more you press yourself against him, the more Joel grants you little sighs of his own pleasure.

He never pushes his hips against you. Never presses you towards him.

It makes you want to scream.

When he pulls away, Joel sighs happily. He presses his right thumb over your swollen bottom lip, and nodding, kneels on his heels again.

"Joel..."

Your face remains close to his, gravitating to where he does. He whispers, "Lift your hips up for me, Sunshine," wrapped around a smile.

You do as he says.

His hand takes off your shorts without your eyes ever leaving you, and when the item is on the floor, Joel releases the robe you foregone earlier tonight from your backrest to slide down where you sit.

To not make a mess, it says.

Your face is burning up, but not as much as the rest of you.

"Is this ok?" he asks.

He waits for your nod of approval before pulling you by your knees. "Good," he's strong enough to get you where he wants in one pull. Your hips are nearing the end of the chair and from this angle, Joel gets to look.

He eyes the underwear as if it's personally offending him.

"I like the color," he says. He traces a finger across the baby blue lace and looks up at you. "Suits ya," he says. That's when he hooks a finger on the fabric, pulling it to the side. "I dreamt about this."

That gets to you.

Joel's fingers are thorough—able. He uses his knuckles to spread the lips apart, uncaring about the whines you let out above him, still holding on to the shame of being the only one exposed.

It lasts until he places two knuckles on each side of your clit, stimulating it with back-and-forth movements.

You were right about the torture.

He enjoys it.

Joel waits for your clit to be hard between his fingers before he puts his mouth to it.

You can only cling onto his hair.

I dreamt about this, too.

"Fuck—I dreamt about this too," you confess.

His moan vibrating against the core of your pussy makes you clench.

Joel's only starting.

He takes his time in finding the rhythm you most feel pleasure on your clit. He never bites, never nibbles, and doesn't go softly, like other men.

He eats.

Joel's mouth is stuck to you—the way he laps and slurps and sucks on your hardened nub only makes your volume go from whines and pleas of his name to moans in very little time.

That's when he dips his tongue inside. When he uses it as muscle and proves to you why the idea of oral is so good for men.

Because it's good.

Joel gives no indicator that he wants to stop at any time, and it turns you into something that blossoms.

At some point between him almost making you cum just by sucking on your clit and fucking his tongue in and out of you, your legs made their way to his shoulders, and his hands have secured themselves groping your ass.

He pulls back for air, once.

His fingers enter you instead, two at once.

"So wet already," he says. You only hear it, until, "look at me," he asks.

As if his thick, long fingers dripping into places inside of you weren't enough, you get to look at him.

His face glistening on your back porch is something that burns behind your eyelids the second you see it. You feel incoherent, needy, and exposed in more than one way.

Joel looks like he could eat you like this.

"Joel—please. Please," you're begging, but for what, you're not sure.

"Cum for me first. I'll give you whatever you want later, just," he pumps his fingers inside of you, keeping a steady and strong pace, and then says, "You look so good like this, Jesus fuckin' Christ."

Profanities.

That's what he says before getting his mouth back on you—his tongue sucking and vibrating against your clit.

It's too much. Too fucking much, and, "Joel, Joel—"

He pulls back just to say it, "That's it, doin' so good, Sunshine—" and that's when you lose it. The coaxing. It's so earnest. Sounds so pleased, dipping in honey as if it's him who's feeling this good.

"'m gonna cum Joel, fuck me, just like that—"

"Like this? Hm? Show me. Cum on my mouth."

All it takes is for him to put it back on you. Joel knows how to push himself inside—knows how to explore the hot and tight confines of your cunt, because he coos a first orgasm out of you with the right pace only.

No strength. No speed. Just sucking, and curling right against your spot.

Your vision whites out.

The time you take to come back to yourself, he keeps playing with your pussy and the mess he made in it, seeming as satisfied with the result as you are. Somewhere in white land.

What a little death.

After that, it's more a mess and clashes of teeth and desires than you knew you were even capable of.

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you pull him inside the house.

The idea is to make it to your room, but you never make it past the living room.

When you press him against a wall to finish taking off his clothes, seeing him only in briefs makes gravity pull you in.

Nothing but black briefs.

You have to drop to your knees.

Joel curses under his breath and tries his best at keeping his posture, but you're with a mind entirely clouded by raw need.

To him, you want to do only your best.

You're addicted to the way he mutters, "atta girl," every time you discover something that brings him pleasure. It sounds so fucking dirty.

"That's it. Atta fuckin' girl, god."

With him, you use tricks your friends once told you that are buried in the back of your mind. You hold the part of his cock your mouth can't cover and move it in sync with your lips. You make it wet, make sloppy, make it whatever he leads it to be.

Joel hisses and moans louder when you find the special places hidden—the sensitive skin between his balls that leads up, you lick it from start to finish and are rewarded with a full-body shudder.

He shows you what strong body means.

"Where's your room?" he pulls you by the arms, and you somehow end up jumping on him. Exactly what you wanted.

"I'm not makin' that far," you tell him with a grin.

He has his thumb on your lips again—he seems to like your mouth.

"Didn't think you'd want my bare ass on your couch."

"That is exactly where I want your bare ass right now," you tell him.

He's good at following requests, just as he is at giving them.

Joel sits with you already straddling his lap, and bless his gentleman's heart, he says, "I left my pants outside—wait," he curses under his breath with your hips circling his shaft. Letting it slide between your pussy lips. "Fuckin' hell."

"Fuckin' hell indeed," you sigh. "Wait here."

You run outside for it, only because you're not on the pill. Maybe you'll start taking it. Maybe you shouldn't think that far.

Joel's waiting for you alright—he has his hand at the base of his cock, sitting on your couch like a modern-day Adonis.

A sluttier Adonis. Sexier, too.

"Stop starin' and c'mere," he demands;

And who are you to say no to that?

Joel does you the favor of putting it on as you make yourself comfortable on his lap again, taking all of your out of the way. He looks like he wants to eat you alive piece by piece, and you love it.

"Lemme know if you want me to take over," he tells you.

"Yes, sir," you whisper in a taunting manner.

Joel rests his forehead against yours when you line himself up with you, and it's a reward of your stupid, gigantic-ass window letting in the light from outside that allows you to see the pleasure on his face as you sink around him, burying him to the hilt.

His digits press so hard on your sides they'll brise.

You'll be bruised tomorrow morning.

Fingerprints on your hips, beard burns on your inner legs, palm shapes across your ass.

When you start moving, none of you say a word about how it feels.

It's criminal.

Only curses and your names are allowed in the thin space separating your wet bodies.

The thin layer of sweat makes you two glide on each other, and the drag of him inside of you is almost too good for words.

You're scared of the ones that'd make their way out, anyway.

So you let out what you can. You call for him, and he calls back. Joel slaps your ass, both sides of it, and urges you on to take him as you want it.

"Fuckin' christ, I'm never gonna—fuck—never gonna sleep again."

There it is. Being pussy-drunk makes him loose-lipped.

Your own are aching with how hard you bite on them.

Joel lets the reigns remain on your hands as you stay on top. He lets you ride him painfully slow, and faster, just because it feels good. He lets you climb all the way up only to slam back down, praising you through the fog in your brain.

"Does it feel good, Sunshine? Mm? My cock feels that good for you?"

You're sure it'll all come back to haunt you once your brain can be coherent.

He takes charge when you start begging him, and for what, you're unsure of. It's a mixture of please and his name, which Joel takes as his permission slip.

He flips you onto your back, hooks one of your legs on the middle of his back, and fucks you both into another orgasm.

It should be concerning the way he does it—like he's familiar with your body and your cues. He just follows your pace and moans until you're clawing at his back, and when his name comes out over and over again, he coaxes it again. Coos at you, holding your face in one hand. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't ya? Do it. I'll cum for you when I feel you shakin' around my cock, Sunshine. Cum for me."

It comes so hard you almost faint; blackout.

Joel takes care of you afterward.

Of course he does.

Even with the weakest legs and the minimum sense of reality around you, he manages. Joel leads you upstairs, tells you he's collected your clothes, and even lays down when you ask him.

"Just for a while," you ask.

He lays in front of you in bed, and pulls your arms around him. "I'm puttin' an alarm."

Little spoon. "You gotta be back here in the morning anyway."

"I know," he kisses your wrist. "Can't wait."

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#usernexusnyx #joel miller #joel miller drabble #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller masterlist #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc

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thef1diary · 3 months

Text

Little Big Fan | M. Verstappen

Summary: A normal Tuesday becomes stressful when you lose your daughter in the grocery store, but then you find her with her favourite driver.

Warnings: none just fluff + max being the cutest with children.

Pairing: max x singlemother!reader (platonic ish?)

wc: 1.6k

Series Masterlist

You were strolling through the aisles in the grocery store. One hand pulling the smaller basket behind you while your other hand was held by your daughter, Isabella.

It was a normal Tuesday for your little family of two, shopping with your six year old daughter. Unable to say no whenever she picks up something and looks at you with the cutest pout.

During the ten minutes of shopping, it has happened twice so far. The first time it was a box of two-bite brownies that she was currently obsessed with, and the second time was chocolate chip cookies.

You continued walking through the aisle, sneaking a glance at Isabella every time she pointed at something and said "mama, look"

Everything was going smoothly, until you had to drop Isabella's hand to open the door to the refrigerator to grab yogurt for your little one.

"Bella, which one do you want?" You picked out two flavours that she liked, wanting to let her choose one but as you looked to your side, she wasn't there.

"Isabella?" You did a full 360 turn, in case she was attempting to hide behind you as she tried once before, but she wasn't there. That's when the panic started setting in.

Dragging your basket behind, you walked towards the nearby aisles hoping to find her. "Shit, shit, shit," you muttered under your breath because you couldn't find your little girl anywhere.

You truly felt like the shittiest parent in the world. Losing your child in the grocery store was something you never thought would happen to you, especially as Isabella was always right by your side. Today, you were proven otherwise.

Close to breaking out into a full sprint, you continued looking for her, becoming less and less aware of the people around you. You accidentally bumped into a few people, but you couldn't be bothered to look at them, only muttering an apology as you passed.

You almost skipped your gaze over her, but did a double take when you spotted her familiar glittery clips in brown hair that was the same shade as yours.

"Isabella!" You almost yelled, but thankfully the aisle she was in was nearly empty. Only one other person was present, crouched close to Isabella, who was speaking animatedly with grand hand gestures.

You immediately crouched down next to her, calling her name again and hugging her tightly.

"Mama, look!" Isabella spoke when you pulled away, not understanding the depth of the situation as she pointed to the man she was speaking to.

That's when you looked at him, wondering why Isabella was speaking to him, especially as she wasn't too outgoing. Sure she'd sometimes speak to strangers, but she wasn't the type to run away from you to do so.

You stood up, holding your daughter up on your hip and watched as the man also stood up. "Isabella, angel, what happened?" You were confused as to why she was so excited.

"It's Max! The race car one," Isabella spoke excitedly, and that's when it clicked for you. Due to her father's interest in the sport, it passed on to Isabella and she would ramble on and on about it whenever she'd return from her dad's house.

"Oh," you turned to look at Max, a sheepish smile making its way to your face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even notice her leave my side." Frankly, you weren't sure if you were supposed to apologize but you knew that he was quite famous and possibly didn't want to be bothered.

He shook his head, “no worries, I should apologize for causing this,” he gestured to your daughter’s huge smile, excitedly moving around in your grasp.

He introduced himself to you, only realizing after that Isabella had already told you his name. You chuckled and told him your name, hearing him say it back to you.

“Mama, I told him that daddy and I watch him race,” Isabella told you, and you indulged in the conversation, knowing how much she loved watching Max on tv.

“Did you tell him how you’re a biiig fan?” You watched her nod eagerly, holding her hands far apart and telling Max, “this big!”

He chuckled, not seeming to mind the little girl interrupting his shopping trip. In fact, he was quite surprised when she first approached him, all shy then the outburst came out of nowhere once she confirmed it was Max, the racing driver.

The main reason why Isabella spotted him so easily was because he was in something similar to the blue and red clothes that she sees him wearing on tv, wearing a cap as well.

“And what about you, not a fan?” Max asked you, taking you by surprise as he initiated another conversation. You shrugged, “I don’t really watch but Isabella does when she’s at her dad’s.”

It was a common interest that the father-daughter duo shared, possibly the only one so you didn’t want to take that away from them.

Max nodded, understanding your specific choice of words saying “her dad’s” rather than “my husband” or something similar.

Just for that, knowing that you were a single mother, his appreciation for you doubled. Mainly because he judged you unknowingly when he spoke to Isabella and noticed the lack of any responsible adult around, not knowing that the little girl ran away from her mother.

“Daddy promised to take me to the track one day,” Isabella’s voice snapped him out of his little bubble, one in which he was only looking at you. He had to remind himself that you were only here because your daughter was a fan, not for any other reason.

You sighed internally, not really wanting to tell Max, your daughter’s favourite driver, that your ex had promised Isabella well over a year ago. It was a promise left unfulfilled for a while, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that it may never be fulfilled.

However, even without words, Max seemed to notice your expression as you didn’t hide it well enough. He was quick to make a decision, and crouched a little lower to be face to face with your daughter. “How about you and your mama come see me at the next race?”

Isabella instantly looked at you with the same pout that always worked on you, but this time you really had to think about it. Your gaze turned to Max, “oh please don’t do what I think you are suggesting.”

Max’s smile only grew, “I am suggesting that I can send you two paddock passes for the next race.”

Your daughter happily bounced in your grasp and she was wiggling around too much for you to hold her still. Placing her down and holding her hand, you thought about Max’s suggestion.

“Do you want to go, angel?” You asked Isabella, already knowing that she would say yes. “Please mama, can we go? please, please, please.”

You chuckled at her excitement, nodding at her and looked at Max, “looks like the decision is made.”

“Good, I will be looking forward to seeing you both,” Max stated, but remembering an important detail, you blushed in embarrassment. “One question,” you started, watching him nod to let you continue, “when is the race?”

“Next weekend. How about I send you tickets for Saturday and Sunday, would that be okay?”

To think he was a famous athlete, you couldn’t believe his kindness. Sure, not all athletes were rude, and you didn’t have any previous experience but it was still surprising.

“Yes, that should be okay. Thank you so much for doing this.” He just shrugged, “it’s not a problem at all.”

Your daughter was getting restless now, already in the grocery store for a while now plus this conversation was going on longer than she thought.

Isabella managed to release her hand from your grasp, but you instantly noticed. A sheepish smile grew on her face and Max could notice the familiarities between mother-daughter. “Stay right here, Bella,” you tried a stern voice, something you weren’t used to, so she knew you were serious.

“Okay mama,” she nodded and walked to the basket you abandoned once you first spotted Isabella.

Max said your name, bringing your attention back to him. “She’s cute, how old is she?” He asked, watching Isabella play with the items in the basket.

“She’s the cutest six year old.” You two watched her with interest, but while your gaze was still on your daughter, Max’s gaze shifted to you.

“Oh, I was meaning to ask, I need your contact information for the passes,” he scratched the back of his neck while a small smile made its way on your face.

“Are you asking me for my number?” You teased him, unsure where the playfulness in the conversation came from but neither of you were opposed to it.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he pulled out his phone, unlocking it and giving it to you. Once you handed it back to him, he chuckled when he saw the contact name you saved yourself as. Isabella’s mama

“So I guess I’ll see you soon?” You asked, having spent more than enough time in a grocery store but somehow not wanting to say goodbye yet. “Yeah, I’ll send you the details in a bit. Maybe I might just turn you into a fan?”

“We’ll see, Max, but no promises.” You chuckled, calling Isabella so she could say goodbye to Max.

She surprised you both by clinging onto his legs, and he quickly crouched down to give her a proper hug. “Bye Maxy.”

“Bye Isabella, I’ll see you soon!”

As you grabbed her hand and began walking away, Isabella turned around to wave at Max once again, making him chuckle but easily retuning the wave.

He stood there until you and your daughter were both out of sight. Then, he groaned once he realized that he still had a few more items to grab from his list before he could leave.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #fluff #formula one fic #little big fan fic

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months

Note

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had.

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you.

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.”

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered.

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.”

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse.

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!”

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains.

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest.

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away.

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you.

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive.

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours.

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second.

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds.

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood.

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through.

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did.

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming.

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips.

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest.

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them.

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas.

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar.

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too.

Everything would be done if another city fell.

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry.

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down.

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him.

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another.

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm.

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike.

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that.

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do.

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness.

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up.

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did.

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!”

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock.

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious.

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream.

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static.

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead.

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out.

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t.

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life.

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.”

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile?

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky.

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him.

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.”

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine.

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact.

Your face gains heat.

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment.

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow.

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?”

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began.

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died.

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar.

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found.

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.”

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk.

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls.

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.”

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around.

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more.

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water.

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering.

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet.

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important.

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything.

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course.

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious.

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years.

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place.

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet.

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds.

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?”

You weren’t going to stop until you found it.

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet.

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him.

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you.

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.”

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you.

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard.

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?”

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it.

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.”

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.”

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after.

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question.

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile.

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building.

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told.

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood.

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch.

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago.

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system.

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real.

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three.

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices.

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.”

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible.

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet.

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?”

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years.

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?”

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh.

The man forces a weak huff.

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you.

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same.

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you.

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck.

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?”

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.”

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you.

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon.

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