#there are things in this one that annoy me immensely but i am too lazy to fiddle with them so whatever

[minuutti]

um

#so. i wasn't planning on drawing him. but then someone on here posted that still from the blackbox show and i really liked it #and since green has become synonymous with him i thought it would be fun to play with the colouring a bit #there are things in this one that annoy me immensely but i am too lazy to fiddle with them so whatever #käärijä #who knew one day i would be posting some dude from vantaa #guess i just had to get this one out of my system. i'm done now i promise #my doodles #anyway love him and his whole vibe #edit. can you believe i forgot to draw his nose piercings. ofc i had to go back and add those #can't even see them (in this one or in the ref really) but they're there

[wood-white-writer]

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [9/…]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss.

Give me one good honest kiss and I’ll be alright.”

— Mitski, “Nobody”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends.  In which there is lost affections, mentions of the past, and re-bonding over a bath. Unshared thoughts and feelings of regret return from years of negligence, and whereas some aspects remain buried, others have a chance to resurface from the depths.

Warnings: fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, morally grey reader, mentions of violence and blood, dual-pov (though primarily Buggy's), Buggy being a simp, implications of Buggy being a horny simp

A/N: AND HERE WE ARE! FINALLY, AFTER SO MANY WEEKS, THE NEW CHAPTER IS UP! Seriously, I want to thank you all for your immense patience and support. As I mentioned in a previous post, work has been hectic as hell and I know I wrote that this chapter would hopefully be finished last week, but life took its toll. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter, though I myself have mixed feelings about it.

INCLUDES SOME SELF-MADE SKETCHES AT THE BOTTOM, so you’re warned

The sun warms your face as you breathe in the fresh scent of the sea. You’re lounging on deck, hands folded behind your head and feet hanging over the railings in a rather peculiar position, but you’re perfectly content.

Luffy benched you for the rest of the voyage to Arlong Park, a decision you initially found insulting to no short degree. Well, maybe benched is not the right term to use, but more like “I don’t want you to die, and I think you need to relax this once”.

You had argued that no, you’re fine and the love bites Arlong left you are nothing compared to the marks Mihawk left on Zoro, and he’s still up and about as usual.

But Luffy is firm about his decision, and what the Captain says goes.

So, here you are, enjoying some quiet all while letting your wounds heal, and it seems that nothing can hope to put an end to this ambiance that is—

“HEY! THERE ‘YA ARE!”

…. You spoke too soon. Way too soon.

A shadow falls over your face like a curtain and blocks the view of the sun. A shadow belonging to - you make a lucky guess - a severed head that’s been talking for way longer than a severed head typically should, in your experience.

You open one lazy eye to pinpoint the exact perpetrator and see a bright red dot staring down at you from Usopp’s grip.

Buggy winks at you, making those mildly irritating clink-clink noises.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Usopp grumbles. “You take him! He’s annoying and keeps telling me my nose is too long!”

“Because it is, you shidiot!”

“It’s average!”

“That’s what your mom said!”

“You keep my mom’s name out of your mouth, you psychotic, fucking—!”

“Be quiet.”

Both the clown and the slingshot simultaneously shut their mouths before things have a chance to escalate on a non-verbal scale, and you take this as a sign that your break is officially over and buried ten feet under.

Stretching your arms out loud enough to pop a few vertebrae, you shift to lean your back against the railing and give both boys an unimpressed look-over, like a disappointed mother having caught both of her children in the act of something. “It’s too early for you to be making a ruckus.”

“It’s 11 am,” Usopp points out.

“Still too early.” Deciding that you’d rather not deal with this with more effort than you’re willing to spend, you return to your previous position. “Leave the head, or don’t. Just let me rest.”

“Fine by me.”

With a thud and an “OW FUCK!”, Usopp unceremoniously drops the clown and forgoes his Buggy-sitting duties to do whatever he wants to do, leaving you to pick up the slack.

A string of curses flow from Buggy’s mouth, which you only vaguely pay attention to. There was something along the lines of “Long-nosed asshat,” and “Right on the nose”, but you abandon all interest in favor of feeling the sun on your cheek.

“So…” you hear him jump a little closer. “Alone at last.”

You don’t answer.

“What? Don’t give me that! I thought we were good!”

You remain selectively mute.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me! I don’t like it!”

“You survived it for twenty years. I’m sure you can stand it for a few more minutes.”

“…. Seriously?”

“Mhmm.”

You don’t know what possesses him, but he keeps quiet for most of the next thirty minutes, and you take the time to continue basking in the sun. 

It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and you’ll be damned if it gets ruined now or all time, least of all by him. You’re not going to even open the can of worms that is last night’s events, so you lock it in a chest to be dug up for another day. 

Not now. It won't be that long until you reach Arlong Park, and shit will go down. This might be the only chance you get to replenish your strength and gods do you need it now more than ever.

"… Hey?” Buggy starts.

You let him decide whether to perceive your silence as an opening or a locked door.

“I’m bored.”

“Tough.”

“Can’t we do something else?”

“We could fish. Your head might serve as a good bait.” Despite yourself, your lip tugs a little in what is supposed to be a halfway smirk. The image of Buggy dangling above the shark-infested waters from a hook to his bandana would be an entertaining sight to behold.

He swallows audibly. “Was that a joke?”

“Keep bothering me and we’ll find out soon enough.”

“C’mon! Don’t be like that! Seriously, I’m bored! Ain’t much you can do when you’re just a head… except to give one, but that’s beside the point.”

Too much detailing, you think. He wants entertainment of any kind; you want peace and quiet. What to do and how to kill two birds with one stone? You open one eye and let it drift over to Buggy, who in turn is staring intently at you. 

In the sun, you make out every detail of his rugged face. His make-up’s almost wiped completely off the skin, with only remnants of the red lipstick and blue diamonds vaguely in place. His stubbles have grown slightly, given the lack of access to a barber, and if you get close enough, he probably stinks of—

A lightbulb goes off in your head. A devious one, blinking to every corner of your brain. 

Despite what anyone thinks, you’re not above being petty.

With a push, you sit up and glance over at him. “Anything?” 

Buggy raises his eyebrows and nods desperately. “Yeah! Anything! As long as I ain’t got to sit here doing naught-shit, I’m game!”

You turn to him, put each of your hands to the edges of his jaw, and lift him a little closer to you. Whether from the sun or just him alone, he’s warm and soft under your digits.

“Alright,” is all you say.

Buggy beams much like the bulb in your head, and a loud bark of laughter erupts from his mouth. You almost pity him, pity him for being oblivious to what’s to come.

But it needs to be done.

There’s no other way around it and he’s had it coming. He deserves this, you tell yourself. He deserves every inch of ruthlessness you can offer, and you’ll deliver.

————

Buggy blanches, lips wobbling in horror as he slowly glances up at you. Betrayal fills his bright-blue eyes and, for the first time since Orange Town, he sees you as the beast you both know you are. 

He’s afraid.

He’s afraid of you.

He knows you can be vindictive; he knows you can be brutal, but in all the time he’s known you, he’s never perceived you as cruel.

Maybe it’s time for him to reassess that thought.

“No,” he whispers softly. “No, please.”

Your face is blank, and cold, and he doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the light or not, but there’s a shadow across your face that darkens everything but your eyes. Those bright eyes he used to hold in such high regard.

“You want my forgiveness,” you state calmly as you gradually lower him to his demise. “You have to earn it.

“Please, anything but this. I’ll do anything other than this!”

But his pleas earn no mercy from you. He wiggles in your grasp like a fish out of water, and as much as he tries to beg and move and free himself, your hold is iron incarnate.

Buggy lets out an ear-curdling scream the moment he feels the water under his neck.

“NOOOOO!”

————

Honestly, how childish, you think as you begin to soak him in the basin you procured from the kitchens. He hisses like a cat as you pour the water over his head, rinsing his hair. Try as he might, he cannot escape your grasp. 

It’s not even deep enough to reach his chin, and still, he acts like it’s acid he’s been thrown into.

But you’re determined, this has to be done.

“Oh, quit whining” you chastise, getting drops of water your way with all his scuttling. “You need this.”

“You’re gonna drown me!” he accuses.

“It’s soap and water, and it’s not even that deep.”

“You say that now, sure! But the moment you let go, plop! Oh, there goes Buggy the Clown! Taken from this world too early!”

You roll your eyes. “I’m holding you up, you’re not going to drown. Now, stop acting like a child.”

Buggy is restless and continues to thrash around for a good ten seconds more before finally relenting, a look of sour disapproval on his face. It’s so caricatured and animated that it threatens to make a suppressed chuckle leave your throat.

He still looks the same when he’s mad.

Now that he’s finally calm, you lower him so that the edge of his neck finally stands on the bottom of the basin. Then, you soak a rag and raise it towards his face.

Buggy flinches. “Can you …. Eh… leave the face?”

“There’s hardly anything there anymore, and it’ll irritate your skin if you leave it on for too long.”

“I think I can tell you what irritates me or not, like this bird bath for instance, thank you very much.” He scowls and edges further away from the wet rag. “Seriously, just leave it.”

“I’ll reapply the make-up.”

“… What?”

When you first boarded the Merry, you happened to find some leftover make-up hidden away in one of the shelves. It was strange, considering how the boat was freshly built, and imagined that one of the builders had taken some personal liberty in the large space before the project was finished.

For whatever reason, you didn’t throw it out, though you didn’t use it yourself.

If it can get him to accept the fact that he needs a wash, you’re willing to do it.

“I’ll put on your make-up if I can wash off what you currently have,” you clarify. “Deal?”

Buggy goes quiet, and his eyes widen slightly, but not out of horror or dread. It’s more like … when you catch the sight of something unexpected; a delayed reaction that stirs feelings you have yet to decipher. 

Finally, after some internal debates with himself, Buggy nods. “Fuckin’ fine then,” he utters, and despite the crudeness of his words, they’re lenient.

Content, you gently place your free hand to his left to keep him stable and use the other one to carefully drag the rag across his stained cheek. 

Buggy watches you intently through the process, never taking his eyes off you unless you’re wiping off the painted diamonds on his eyes. Your hands, for once, are soft to the touch. They’re soft for him, as though a single misplaced touch might shatter him like glass.

He used to be acquainted with the soft touches long before the cold and brutal ones. Soft fingers that pinched his cheeks as you helped apply the paint over his face. 

Soft touches against his arm when he was feeling particular for some reason, whether it was good or bad.

Your fingers intertwined with his’ as you came to terms with your captain’s death, sitting by the edge of the docks as the rain poured from above. It was cold, he was freezing, and too close to the waters for his comfort, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the rain with you and share the heat from your fingers.

Even after everything, you’re still capable of reserving those touches for him.

After wiping the makeup completely off him, you raise the cup and fill it with water. “Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t want to, but he does and feels the water rushing down like the rain on those docks.

When he’s finally finished, you fish him up from the basin and put him down atop a soft towel on the table. Like a cat, he instinctively shakes off the residue of water, only to find you already raising a new towel towards him.

He stops moving, and you takes this as your cue to continue. You’re attentive, he notices. You wipe his face first, then his ears, then his hair. You dry it and scratch his scalp at the same time through the fabric, and he instinctively leans against your touch.

This is … nice.

“When did you cut your hair?” You ask out of the blue as you continue to dry him, making sure to leave no spot too humid.

He almost failed to catch onto your words with how at ease he is. “Hmmm?”

“You used to have long hair before,” you elaborate. “Why did you cut it?”

“…. Too much of a hassle to maintain,” he answers after some thought. “It’s hard to find the time to take care of it.”

“… I see.”

The truth is, he cut it right after he left. Not particularly clean either. You know that feeling you get when you feel like you’re losing control, and ridding yourself of any additional weight seems to relieve it? 

Well, that’s what Buggy did.

He cut it with a pair of rusty scissors, severing chunks at a time — some bigger than others — until all he was left with was pieces sticking out to each side like a madman.

It didn’t help though. It didn’t make him feel any lighter from the weight on his chest. From that gnawing feeling.

Still, he maintained the habit and got better with practice. It became more of a practical thing with time; he was a busy man, and he could do well with fewer things to get in his eyes, but it never eased the pain.

But feeling the tips of your fingers lightly graze his hair, however, he feels more relieved than he’s done in the last twenty years.

After a few minutes, you remove the towel and give him a neutral one-over. It’s the first time you’ve seen him as an adult without any of that makeup, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s changed, but also how he’s not.

Even after all this time, it’s still Buggy.

Buggy sees you watching him, and he can’t help but feel slightly self-conscious now that your eyes are on him without his usual armor.

But you don’t comment on it, nor show any surprise in any sense of the word. There are times when he hates your face, not because of anything superficial, but because you make it so damn challenging for him to figure out what goes in that brain of yours. He’s reminded of how you were when you were younger, how lifeless you used to be, and it feels like you’ve regressed to that state.

Another thing to add to the shitlist of things he’s regretful about.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something when the door suddenly bursts open. Buggy jumps whereas you merely look over your shoulder to spot Zoro standing there, his eyes narrowed between you and the clown.

Buggy frowns.

“Zoro,” you speak plainly, as if you failed to notice his annoyance towards the spectacle presented before him. “Is there anything?”

“The hell is this?” His eyes flicker between you and Buggy like it’s the worst show on earth. “What’s going on?”

“He reeked,” you explain. “I have merely been rectifying it for the sake of our noses.”

Buggy wants to argue with the statement that No, he fucking doesn’t, but he suppresses it for the sake of figuring out where this conversation’s headed.

“Since when do we make it a habit of bathing prisoners?” Zoro asks, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“Since when have we had prisoners?” You counter.

The swordsman scoffs. “The clown’s needed upstairs in ten.”

“Sure.”

“I’m right here, you know?”

Zoro gives him a nasty look and nothing more before heading back out the door, shutting it with a forceful thud.

“Why do you even stick around with these nobodies?!” Buggy questions. “They can’t navigate for shit, they have no sense of preservation, and they suck at fighting!”

You shift back to raise a knowing eyebrow at him. “They defeated you, didn’t they?”

“That’s—! … I was outnumbered, it wasn’t a fair fight!”

“No fights are fair in the life of piracy,” you point out. 

He bites the inside of his cheek. “All I’m saying is, you’re too powerful to be with these losers. You could join my crew! Think about it! We’d be unstoppable!”

“You mean, join the same people who locked me up and whose asses I subsequently kicked?” 

“Exactly! Don’t worry, they’ll get over it! Once they see how awesome you are, they’ll accept you with open ar—!”

“I decline.”

Buggy pauses, his enthusiasm promptly vanishing and getting replaced with bitter disappointment. “You’re not even going to consider it?”

“Why would I?” You wipe away a descending drop from his right eye. “I have no interest in joining another crew.”

“You say that, and yet here you are with these losers.”

“I was never going to stay permanently.” 

He pauses. “You weren’t?”

“I’m here for Luffy, and once I’ve decided that he can hold his own weight above the waters, I’ll leave.”

“… Where will you go? After, then?”

It takes you a moment to answer, like you don’t know the answer yourself quite yet. Your hand stills for a moment before resuming with the task at hand.

“Who knows?” You shrug. “The sea is my home. I’ve missed it, so I will remain where the waves pull me.”

That won’t do on its own. Stay with me. Buggy wants to ask, and if he had knees, he’d ask on them. Come with me. Be with me. You won’t have to be an official member of his crew; you don’t have to bend to him. You just have to stay. 

Stay with him.

That’s all he’ll ask.

Stay with him until he has the opportunity to figure out a way to make it up to you. 

Stay with him so he can compensate for the twenty years you suffered in each other’s absences.

Just stay.

“Hey.” He’s surprised by his own initiative. “Why’d you even leave your crew and stick your feet on land if you love the sea so much?”

You raise an eyebrow in question.

“I mean, you were Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, for crying out loud! You used to be legendary!” He proclaims, almost saddened by your apparent dismissal of your previous title. “You had fame, berries, a reputation that preceded everyone! Everyone feared you! Why’d you ditch all of that? Because of that rubbery prick? Because of Shanks?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

“Yeah!”

You sigh through your nose and put the towel down to recline in your chair. “I didn’t become a Captain because that’s what I wanted. I became a Captain because it provided an outlet.”

“An outlet? For fucking what?”

It takes you a few seconds to finally reach a suitable response. 

“Anger,” you admit calmly, your arms crossing over your chest as the words stir on your tongue. They must taste bitter. “I was angry, and it festered every day, churning into a poisonous substance in my body. Being a captain with a crew, I could take it out on whoever I wanted. Pirate, marine, unruly crew member, it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.”

It makes sense now, he thinks, the reputation you’ve garnered over the years. Beware the Beast in the East, people would chant in passing towns and harbors, like you were a ghost story. Her eyes were like swords, and her hands were twice as sharp.

There wasn’t a single place where blood didn’t paint your steps.

He never met you while you were a captain; he didn’t want to, couldn’t find it in himself to pop by even once. Still, he kept your poster hidden in the dark depths of the chest in his quarters, if only for acrimonious reminiscence. He would spend some drunken nights doing nothing but staring at it, and it was like he could feel your rage seep through the ink on the page and scorch his fingers. A reminder of what he did.

Now, looking at you and comparing you to the poster, he fails to see the resemblance. He doubts he could’ve spotted it had you reunited earlier on. Captain Cross-Hairs was sharp around the edges, with pecks of blood on her cheeks and fresh scars on her face.

He licks his lips in deliberation. “You were pissed… because of what?”

Because of me?

“I don’t know.” He watches your chest expand with your breath, mesmerized simply by watching you commit to living. There used to be a time when you didn’t. “I didn’t care about money or power. I didn’t care for much of anything, except to purge that rage from my body. I fought, and I killed. It helped, for a time; I felt satisfied, but after a while, you grow bored of eating the same meal.”

When he looked at you when you were younger, he imagined he saw the scorching sun. Burning and bright and enlightening. 

You were … everything, but he never imagined that the same fire that used to mesmerize him would burn a thousand ships in his absence. 

But he was a boy back then. He’s older now, more experienced in the ways of life, he knows better.

He knows enough.

"But the boy," you say with a certain gentleness in your voice that does not evade his notice. "He's good."

"He's weak," Buggy scoffs, feeling his belly fill with sour smoke. He recognizes the feeling. It's the feeling he got when he watched Shanks talk to you that night by the fire. The same feeling he got when he watched you stay with Shanks that day. 

"He's defeated every opponent he's come across."

"Didn't beat Arlong, though." Buggy points out with a smidgen of childish pride and smirks. "Got his ass handed to him real good if I remember correctly."

You look back at him in that narrow way you usually reserve for him when he's crossed a line, and he can already tell he fucked up.

"I watched him grow, Buggy.” You say firmly. “I was there for all of it. I watched him learn, I watched him fight, I watched him leave land. He’s not like us — he doesn’t waste time on regret. He’ll become better than we ever were.”

Buggy glowers but doesn’t say anything else, insisting on letting your words simmer in his brain until he can find the will to let them go.

You procure something from the drawers and it’s only when he looks down that he realizes it’s the make-up. With gentle hands, you lift him and place him in your lap, the brush already blue and ready.

“I’m not here to talk about what used to be,” you say. “Now hold still.”

The diamonds across his eyes come first, the brushing makes his face tickle and it’s only by sheer willpower alone that he manages to refrain from staring at you. 

“Takes us back,” he whispers and closes his eyes so that you can finish. “Doesn’t it?”

He hears something akin to a chortle that doesn’t quite reach your throat, but he considers it a small win.

“You looked a mess,” you answer. “A child could’ve done a better job than I did.”

“Wasn’t bad for your first try, though.”

Except that it was. It was pretty bad. Your hands were shaking, and you held your breath like you were afraid of making a mistake. By the time you were finished, he looked like a canvas painted by a child, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that.

He used to think that it was strange. You were skilled at nearly everything you committed yourself to, without even trying. 

When he thinks back on it, maybe it wasn’t skill; maybe it was just an ingrained fear of failure that drove you to become the best at what you did.

Then again, your worst could never be the worst in his eyes.

You finish his eyes, and when he looks up at you, he sees the same determination and focus in your eyes as he did that day. It’s the same look you have when you’re targeting something, be it an enemy or a point of interest. It’s always the same.

And he can’t look away.

You move onto the crossbones next, and he’s happy he won’t have to close his eyes for this one. He’s not certain you can pull off his iconic look, but he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.

After all, you strive for perfection. He doubts this will be an exception.

Get it? Perfection and except— You know what? Nevermind.

He can feel your attention in every stroke of the brush, feel the white paint glisten on his skin before it dries. Your warmth lingers like burning embers, he feels like getting too close will burn him, yet he wants nothing more than blisters upon his skin.

He looks at you, looks into your focused eyes, and he feels … something tightening, back where his body is. It could be his stomach, his head… other places, but he can’t tell. Arlong’s been busy abusing his body long enough that he can’t differentiate between a kick or a punch anymore.

But this isn’t Arlong.

It’s you.

He can handle a tight body if it’s because of you.

When he was young, and his body began to work in the way of a man, he would sometimes wake up and feel sweaty and … stiff. He knew enough to know what it was, to know what caused it, but he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

He knew the source of his frustrations. He knew how to alleviate them, but he didn’t. He respected you far too much to ever dare cross the threshold. He figured that simply talking to you, simply holding your hand, and being at your side would be enough. He would be content with just that.

But he watched you … develop. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. He imagined feeling your flesh under his digits. The softness across your chest and hips. The warm skin. 

He looks at you now, sees the scars peeking from under your shirt, on your face, and he wants to feel the rough edges. 

Buggy gulps and he’s rather happy now that the rest of his body is not attached to him. He’s lost enough dignity as it is.

“And now, the mouth.”

Yes, he wants to touch that t—

You take the lipstick, and in a straight line, smear it across his mouth in a way that snaps him out of his thoughts. He can feel the warmth emitting from your thumb as you finish his face, and it takes him half a mind not to—

“Done.”

Disappointment lingers in the clown’s visage, and even when you present him a mirror and see the identical likeness to his wanted posters, it does not alleviate the feeling. For what it's worth, he's impressed with how far your make-up-applying skills have reached since last time. 

It's perfect.

But it means you’re done, and the nobodies require his flashy expertise to get Miss Ginger back. 

You dump the discolored water out and put the rest of the equipment away, and he feels his head weigh another ten pounds at so. He somewhat hopes it would; maybe it would be heavy enough that you wouldn’t bother carrying him up the deck?

… Oh, who is he kidding? It’s you. You won’t have any trouble in that department even if he were to weigh as much as a boulder. Ten boulders, even.

To his surprise, instead of reaching for him, you lounge back into your seat and nonchalantly cross your arms and ankles. He’s confused. Weren’t you going to go up with him already?

“If Zoro needs you, he can get you himself.”

That’s what you’ll leave it be like. He, freshly washed, dried, and painted. You, just casually sitting like you have no urgency to get back to the world.

“He’ll be pissed at you,” Buggy warns. “And probably threaten to throw you into the sea.”

You shrug, your eyes already closed, giving him no indication whatsoever that you’re particularly concerned with the veryscary swordsman. He grins with all his teeth on show.

Unfortunately, the green-haired asshole turns up not even five minutes later. All but ripping the clown by the roots of his hair and taking him away like a sack of flour. Buggy spews curses and threats, but they all fall on deaf ears.

It’s only when he’s positioned on deck that he’s finally free of his torment, if only for an hour or two. He begrudgingly instructs the long-nosed slingshot where to sail, adding a few creative insults along the way. Hey, it’s not Buggy’s fault they’re too easy to rile up.

“Is that long nose compensating for something?”

To which he earned a slap to the back of his head. From whom, he doesn’t know, but he’ll take his victories in whatever light weight they come in.

After a while, he shifts his head to eject another insult to the slingshot when he sees that you’re standing a few feet away, your arms crossed while leaning against the railing; eyes closed but face focused and attentive.

He cuts his verbal daggers down a notch.

It gets late, the sky darkens, and one after another, the crew members resign to their chambers save for the slingshot, who still insists on going for a while longer. Him, and you, surprisingly enough. 

You stay, for all of it; neither complaining nor muttering a sound. 

You're stoically positioned on the sidelines, hardly moving at all. He would've died if he'd been standing in the same position for more than one hour, but you endured a total of six without a shiver or a strain. Like a soldier in the rain. A monk in a temple of thorns. 

A beast in an empty forest, lonesome in its hunger, yet content with what content remains buried in its stomach for the time being.

Long-nosed slingshot finally calls it a night and withdraws from the steering wheel with his hands outreached for the head. Before his dirty fingers can hope to graze the magnificent head that is Buggy's, you stretch your arm out like a shield between them.

"I'll take him."

Slingshot snorts. "Really? You want to?"

"Do you want to?"

With his hands raised in mock surrender, Slingshot relents. "... Fine, be my guest."

With a nod, you take the head and retire back to your chamber on the ship. Buggy yawns in your arms, tired, but satisfied with the warmth embracing him. Your steps feel like waves with each one you take, nudging him further and further toward the edge of sleep. Only unadulterated stubbornness keeps him awake.

It darkens for a moment. When he rouses back, he feels softness underneath him. A pillow of sorts, not comforting enough to offer him sleep, but enough to keep him relaxed.

He nudges around, like a fish in a small bowl, only to find that he's not on the table, nor in a barrel, nor a bag. The surface beneath him is made of fabric, and swings with his movements. 

He's in a hammock.

More precisely, your hammock.

“Sleep.” He hears your command. 

He finally locates you, seated by the window of your cabin with your palm under your chin, staring out into the darkened ocean.

He turns, voice diluted with drowsiness. “You too…”

“Soon.”

“Now," he almost whines.

The look you give him is not any different from the kind you usually provide, but it lacks the usual undertone of annoyance. He can tell you're tired, even if you're refusing to show it. The shadows under your eyes stand out more prominently, even in the dimmed candlelight. 

With an inaudible sigh, you stand and while he expects you to move towards the hammock, he's disappointed to see you aiming towards the door instead.

"H-Hey, where are you going?"

"The kitchens," you respond. "You can sleep here for the night; I'll take the couch."

"That's not necessary!" He wiggles so that he can look at you from over the edge of the hammock, careful as not to fall from the height. A thought dawns over him, one that makes his cheeks feel warm. "We- We can share! I don't take a lot of space!"

"You still take up too much of it."

"Are you calling me fat?!"

He's almost insulted when you don't answer to contradict his assumption, yet despite the innate urge to defend his honor and spew shit at you, he decides to let it slide.

"C'mon! I promise I'll behave," he tries again. "You'll hardly notice me. Those couches suck balls anyway, so why not?"

He watches you give it some thought for probably a good two minutes. He expects you'll decline his proposition, finding that your own pride weighs more than the need for decent sleep. 

Then, you lower your shoulders in defeat and make your way over to the hammock. "Scoot over."

He obliges rather excitedly, and when he wiggles back a bit too much to make space, he can feel gravity threaten to drop him on the other side of the hammock. Before it gets to that point, you grab him by the side of his face and hold him until you can lift yourself and lay down. 

Only then do you lay him down, on the right side of your abdomen. He's mindful of the wounds that have yet to heal there, so he tries not to invade too much. Still, he can't deny, he's quite comfortable. Very comfortable. 

He's the most comfortable he's been in a long time - twenty years.

He surpasses the urge to push closer to you, share your warmth, and elects to look up at the ceiling instead.

"Hope you don't snore," he jokes, only to have a yawn follow promptly behind.

"I don't snore," you answer, deadpan. "Now go to sleep."

He's not convinced, but he doesn't comment on it. This peace hangs by a thread, and he'll be damned if it's cut short now of all times. He shuts his eyes, and in his dreams, he's presented with the sun on the blue skies above.

He feels warm all over.

----

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107, @cyberwears, @heylookliisten, @f41k47, @beep-beep1, @crimsonflameproxy, @unpopular-sober-thoughts, @rayleeya, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @fanshavegottensotoxic, @fluffybunnyu, @sirenmelody23

(If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

(Additionally, some sketches of how I imagine Cross-Hairs to look like while I’m writing.)

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #one piece live action #buggy the clown x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x you #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #DMTMYHB #didn’t mean to make your heart blue

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

alphabet boy

SYNOPSIS: You should feel extremely lucky that the handsome and intelligent Armin Arlert is your tutor...even when he's a little mean to you. Because that's your fault, isn't it? He wouldn't have to be mean if you weren't so damn stupid.

PAIRING: Armin x FEM!Reader

DEDICATED TO: armin fuckers. non armin fuckers, i hope i can convert you.

TW: dubcon touching, manipulative behavior, gaslighting, academia shaming,

WC: 1.8k

“Maybe you’re not cut out for this class.”

He said it so casually, a comment spoken between the flip of textbook pages. You couldn’t shake off the undeniable hurt.

“I-Uhm, uh, yeah I have to study a lot...but I like this class. It was a pain to get off the waitlist.” You keep your voice optimistic and light, hoping to mask the offense taken.

You don’t know why Armin would say that, but maybe he was just being logical...he’s seen you struggle, of course, he’d think the class was too hard for you.

The blond sighs, closing his novel that he brought with him while he waited for you to finish your practice problems.

“You can barely keep up with the weekly homework assignments. You didn’t even hand in your assignment last week, right? Better drop out now before the add and drop deadline.” His voice is soft and cold at the same time. It’s unnerving.

You tuck your hair behind your ears, eyes set low, too ashamed to meet your tutor’s. Armin had been your tutor for the past few weeks now, and you thought it was going pretty well. He was so so smart that you couldn’t help but be a little starstruck. He was handsome too, short-cropped blond hair, wide blue eyes, with a wardrobe that was composed of slacks and sweaters.

Usually, he was always overly polite and charming. You could make countless mistakes and his patience was endless. He had some off-days where he was a little withdrawn and quiet. You never held it against him though, knowing he had no obligation to make idle chatter. But sometimes, you could feel his chilly gaze watching you even though he had a book propped open.

“I emailed the professor, he was really chill about it. Last week was really rough for me, you know? I wasn’t feeling well and...”

“You know excuses don’t fly in the real world right? You’re in college now. Professor Ackerman was just being courteous. He probably thinks you’re lazy.” Even though you try not to look at him, you can feel Armin’s azure blues burn holes into you. There was this quiet intensity about him that made you worry about when the restraints would come off.

Armin can’t help but let condescension drip over his words. Any self-respecting person would defend themselves, but not you. Not when you’re already broken by your own insecurities that make it that much easier for him to trample on.

He can already see pearly-sheened tears leaking from the corner of your hopeless eyes. How cute. You part your pretty little mouth to say something, but no words come out. You close your mouth soon enough, looking every bit like a dumb little airhead.

So he continues: “You know your classmates learned all the first few chapters from high school right? You’re the only one starting fresh.” He moves closer, elbows inching closer to infiltrate your little personal-space bubble, knees knocking into yours under the desk.

More tears form under your lower lashes, and Armin mentally counts the crystal droplets. You’re recoiling into yourself like a shrinking violet which only encourages Armin to go just a little farther.

“You don’t even have your major picked out yet. This is a core class for your classmates, you know. You’re wasting your-no, everyone’s time.”

Not wanting to cry in front of your tutor, you rub your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket, fully aware of how utterly pathetic you look right now.

In a small voice, you manage to utter, “I have a right...to be in this class. Even though I’m slow now, I think with some decent amount of studying...I’ll catch up. Even if I’m not-” you take a deep breath, “as quick as my classmates, I still really enjoy what I learn. And..and...I think at the end of the day, that’s what really matters!”

Armin scoffs, “Do you really like the class or are you staying for Ackerman? God knows how many fangirls he’s had to put up with.”

Even as he spoke those words, Armin knew it wasn’t entirely true. You admired the man zealously and had read all of his published papers. Honestly, your admiration had always annoyed him.

You wince at the insinuation but you could feel the anger simmering in your gut, “You have no right to imply that! Wh-why-” Your voice breaks, “are you being so mean?”

Armin thinks you’re so cute, the way you jut out your bottom lip. So cute and pathetic. The corners of his lips quirk upwards. It’s almost endearing how you say “mean” like it’s the worst thing a person can be.

“Am I being mean or am I being realistic?” The blond coos, “I’m your tutor, right? I know the best for you.”

He takes your silence as an invitation to goad you harder: “You’re only upset because I’m telling you what you don’t want to hear.”

You don’t notice the proximity until Armin lays his hand over yours, squeezing the soft flesh of your palms. His voice is gentle as he reassures you: “Hey, hey, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

He made you cry, but you don’t have it in you to pull away from the only semblance of comfort given to you. His chair scrapes the floor as he sets it right beside yours, wrapping an arm around you, encouraging you to lean your head against his shoulder.

It’s a little sad but this is probably the most physical contact you’ve gotten in a while. You’re an utter mess, and on top of all that, touch-starved.

You’re still sniffling like a crybaby, trying to sort your own emotions out. You take a few deep breaths and force yourself to face the facts:

You’re behind.

The class is too much work for you.

Armin’s right, you’re upset because he’s telling you what you don’t want to hear.

“D-do you really think I should drop the class?” Your voice is so defeated, a pinch louder than a whisper.

His long fingers play with the ends of your hair, “I know this class is really important to you and we both want you to do well...so why don’t we increase our tutoring sessions? Maybe we should meet three times a week.”

He smiles at you, and it looks so genuine. You’re immensely grateful, you are, but confusion washes over you, “Wow, Uh, that’ll be great actually but um, uni tutoring services is once a week...so-”

Armin dismisses your concerns with a gentle wave of his hands, “Don’t worry, It’ll be off the books. Think of this as private tutoring. Of course, we’ll have to start meeting in my room from now on.”

While he doesn’t elaborate on why you have to meet in his dorm, you assume Armin has a good reason and it probably involves university-sanctioned student-tutor guidelines.

You’re stammering out thank-you’s, still trying to rub the tears out of your eyes until you feel a soft handkerchief wiping them away.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” He reassures, “Don’t use your sleeve. It’s too rough for your pretty face.”

You blush under his words, wide eyes locked into his oceanic blues, “I d-don’t know if I’ll be able to compensate you f-for the private tutoring.”

His eyebrows crease as he gives you a smile full of pearly teeth, “You don’t have to worry about that for now.” His hands graze over your knuckles, “We’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you Armin.” You say it so sincerely, trying to muster the biggest smile you can after the blond essentially trampled over your self-esteem to only nurse it back with sweet promises.

“Well, we better finish today’s work then.” He responds calmly, not bothering to detangle himself from you. You can feel his body heat radiating onto you, and how his hand moved to casually rest on your thigh. But that’s normal right? If you think about it, Armin was not exactly adverse to touch. During your past tutoring sessions, his hand would always be on the small of your back or shoulders.

“Hey, you’re not getting distracted again, are you?” His voice is playful like he isn’t sliding his hand up and down the span of skin between your skirt and tights. When you don't respond, he pinches your inner thigh, eliciting a startled gasp from you.

"Focus." It's a demand so it must be followed.

Embarrassed, you nod your head and return your focus to the problem sets even though your hands are shaky as you grip the ballpoint pen.

You don’t notice how the blond’s eyes gleam under the fluorescent lighting at your easy compliance. He’s always liked obedient girls.

Your thighs are growing warmer, and it doesn’t help to have Armin peering over you. Still, you try your best to lull yourself to focus until a ringtone breaks your concentration.

Armin breaks away from you to find his phone and you find your body subconsciously missing the warmth. He lightly curses under his breath once he sees the contact name, but answers nonetheless.

“Yeah...sorry babe. I forgot. I’ll be right over.” He sounds apologetic but he looks downright bored.

And like that, the call is over. He looks over at you with an apology falling from his lips, “Sorry about that. I forgot I had something to do today. We’ll end early.”

Your throat is dry as you ask, “Was that your girlfriend?” You regretted your words the moment they escaped. That was none of your business. It doesn’t matter if he was holding you earlier. He was doing so because you were bawling like a baby. But why did he touch your thighs?

That doesn’t have to mean anything, you rationalize. Besides, Armin would never make a move on you. He was a handsome senior with a perfect GPA and a powerful position in the student government. Stupid freshman girls like you are not worth the time he so generously gives out.

The blond smirks, seeming to notice your internal struggle, “Something like that. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure she won’t distract me from our future sessions.”

That was a puzzling comment. His girlfriend supposedly distracting from your study time wasn’t even a concern you held.

“No, no, that’s ok.” You quickly assure, “You’ve already helped me out so much.”

The blond pats the top of your head like you were a puppy, “I’d do anything for my cute little student.”

The way your face heats up with a dark blush should be criminal. All he did was pat your head, and you’re looking at him starry-eyed like he didn’t grope your thighs under the table. Honestly, all your cute little blubbering had gone straight to his cock. Annie would have to handle his big problem.

These private sessions are going to be fun.

part I ---- complete

#attack on titan fanfiction #armin arlet x reader #yandere armin arlert #armin arlet x you #armin arlert fanfic #slight dubcon #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting #tw crybaby reader'

[ryukatters]

Random (college) Eren headcanons (SFW and NSFW) Minors DNI

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x fem bodied! Reader

Warnings: breeding kink, NSFW content

Word count: .8k words

Author’s note: It’s 4 AM and I can not sleep. This is my first piece of writing on here, but I’m not sure if I’ll post some more since it’s not really my forte. Anyways, hope y’all enjoy!

SFW

- Will get into random cleaning moods. Will absolutely make sure everything in his apartment is sparkly clean when he’s in one

- Would skip his lecture just so he could attend yours with you. Would even try and take notes then try and introduce himself to your professor after class to talk about that day’s lecture. He’s embarrassing bye

- Hates hot coffee. Will drink an iced vanilla sweet cream cold brew even if it’s -20° out

- Tries to get the cars next to him to race when they’re at a red light

- Camera roll is full of pictures of you. Screenshots of your snaps, random pictures of you sleeping, eating, studying. Laughs at the embarrassing ones, but those are his favorite

- Insists on doing EVERYTHING with you. Buying groceries? Going to the library? Getting some boba/coffee? Painting? Going on a walk? Eren will be there. No questions asked. (Even if you didn’t invite him.)

- Which brings me to my next point, Eren will 100% show up where you’re at unexpectedly to hang out and annoy you. You two have each other’s locations, and he’s memorized your schedule so get used to him popping up out of nowhere cuz he has nothing better to do

- You like X band/show/movie/book? Eren will make sure to watch/listen/read at least part of it so y’all have something to talk about.

- If he recommends a show for you two to watch together, you bet your ass Eren will wait for you when a new episode comes out.

- Drives really fucking fast for no reason. He goes 30 over the speed limit and sometimes uses his knee to steer on the highway bc he’s too lazy to use his hands (not when you’re in the car though, will still drive fast but will not be as reckless)

- Speaking of driving, he has a Polaroid of you on his dash that he looks at all the time <3

- Let’s you paint his nails (he likes it when you two are matching)

- Lets you choose out his outfits and he chooses yours. Actually has pretty good fashion sense, and will make sure you’re wearing something that you’re comfortable with wearing.

- Gives you massages randomly so you could give him one back

- Steals your things. Scrunchies, fuzzy socks, pens, markers, any extra (unused) toothbrushes you have. Turns you into his personal convenience store

- Takes your phone when you’re not looking. Takes goofy pics and videos. Occasionally, he’ll record a sweet video of him telling you he loves you or how proud he is of you.

- A gentleman. Will open doors for you, drive you everywhere, give you his coat, etc. Carla Jaeger raised a respectful boi

NSFW

- H O R N Y 25/8

- This man has the highest fucking sex drive. You have no idea how. He can’t help it, you’re just so sexy he wants you every second of every minute of every hour 😪

- Gets off at fucking the living daylight out of you. Seeing your eyes roll back, brain turned to mush unable to form a coherent thought because of HIM is so satisfying to Eren

- will straight up ask for nudes/lewds. Compiles them in a secret album on his phone to look at later.

- Once you two became sexually active, he stops masturbating as much. Will wait until he can see you.

- This man will start to try and get freaky with you while y’all are cuddling.

- Lowkey (highkey) loves when you get huffy and puffy and bratty with him. Makes putting you in your place so much sweeter.

- A menace. Will watch you writhe and whine for him to put his cock in you and enjoys watching your expression once he does immensely.

- LOUD. Very very very vocal. Has the prettiest moans and groans. Encourages you to be loud as well. Anyone who happens to stumble past y’all fucking will think you two are pornstars

- A fucking fiend at dirty talk. Says the nastiest shit that makes your cheeks burn red while he slams into your tight pussy.

- Has a breeding kink. “Yeah? Does my princess want me to breed her like the little whore she is?”

- Likes to watch his cum seep out of your hole. Slaps your sore pussy if it gets on the bed/car/table/wherever y’all did it. “I thought I told you to keep it all in? Unless you want me to fill you up again.”

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost my writing without my permission.

#eren jaeger #attack on titan #eren aot #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren smut #eren fluff #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x you #eren headcanons #kat’s writing

[nocturnalazure]

Warning: long rant ahead

So there was that very interesting conversation going on on @lilyshadowwriter‘s blog regarding commenting, microblogging and WP nostalgia.

Why is it so silent on here ? Why are so many of us feeling lonely on a frigging social media platform meant to promote interaction ? Is the community getting smaller ? Or is it just the Tumblr mentality of passive content consumption ? Is the WP community completely dead ?

It seems like it’s become a real issue for many of us who feel invisible in a sea of content and who struggle to find writers with similar concerns. It’s hard to ride the wave when your content does not fit into the mould. And in the end, we all want the same thing : to be seen and understood. We may write for ourselves but we publish because we are driven by the need to share. It hurts when it looks like no one cares.

Thing is, WP and Tumblr are two very different animals. WP might be dying because content consumption habits are changing rapidly. Users must be spoon-fed content. The attention span is getting smaller, your posts need to be quick to read, mostly visual and very dynamic. You must update regularly or followers will lose interest, but not too much or followers will get annoyed. You are competing with hundreds of thousands of other blogs doing the same thing. And if you say one little thing the wrong way, you might get cancelled. So it’s getting a bit crazy on here, and it’s only natural that some of us don’t feel like they belong.

To me, this is not a community. Sure, there are people I have met here that I like immensely, but it barely feels like a network. It’s more like… clusters. Specific floating individuals whom I enjoy interacting with and who seem to have a similar mindset. But I’ve never felt included in any community.

Objectively, my content should check all the Tumblr boxes : it’s a graphic novel (can’t do more visual), it’s quick to read because it’s dialogues only, it’s updated more or less regularly, there are twists and cliff-hangers that I hope will keep the reader invested. But after 7 years on both Tumblr and WP, I think I can safely conclude that it just doesn’t work for reasons that I cannot explain.

I’m super grateful for that handful of individuals who have followed me through thick and thin, and who take the time to make meaningful comments on my story. They are the reason why I’m still here.

But is that my fault ? I would hate to create content « just because it works ». In fact, I don’t think I could. I am what I am, and this is what I have to give. This is where it gets personal and why social media failure hurts so much, because it’s hard not to connect the value of your work with your own value as a person. And it’s easy to take that exclusion from the inner circles like abandonment or nonacceptance of your person as a whole. If that makes sense.

Anyway, I’m not looking for reassurance. I’m actually more worried that there are people out there who seem to feel the same way, to some degree. Why has it become so hard to reach out to people in this era of social media ? When did that change ? Are there simply so many of us now on the world wide web that the search for kindred spirits is like looking for a needle in a haystack ? Does our environment move so fast that we can’t keep up ? How come people now think commenting could be regarded as weird ? Laziness, fear of stepping out of line ?

That takes out all the fun. I’m old enough to remember a different Internet. That’s not what I was promised at the time. Now it’s all about using others for personal gain : making money out of them or bringing them down to make one feel better about oneself. Fight stupid fights because « someone was wrong on the Internet ». Who cares, it’s just an icon and a couple of symbols on a screen.

Where’s the community in that ?

#ranting #text post #random #sorry about that #just needed to get it out #aaaaah i feel better now

[caxsthetic]

Lost to Pride

Miya Atsumu x F!Reader

Sometimes, people let the person they loves to slipped between their fingers without noticing it.

Part 1 > Pt. 2

Gymnasium already felt like your second home by now, no matter where it is. It was energetic and majestic, being here just made you feel alive. But here, you have another job to do rather than just enjoying your school volleyball's team playing on the court.

The roar of Miya Atsumu's fans always made you feel tired. It's not that you were jealous of how one person could be loved by a lot of people, but it was the fact that you need to make them quiet down when Atsumu's serve, or else, it will be their own nightmare.

"Hey, I am sorry," You called out to some of them who had been cheering non-stop. Atsumu was going to serve since he's already walking to take his formation. But those girls just won't quiet down, "Please silence."

They finally turned to look at you, jolted when they could sense the immense aura radiating from your body. It was scary even though you were smiling to them with your eyes closed, looking like an innocent girl, but nothing scream innocent from how deadly you look now,

"Now, don't make a sound when Tsumu does his serve, okay?" You patted their shoulders with the same unreadable smile, "If you still do that, well," Your eyes opened to see them, sending an intense glare, "I wouldn't let you set foot in Inarizaki stands ever again."

They nodded stiffly and only focused on the court, now without emitting a single sound from their lips. You could calm down and enjoy their match now, without being afraid one of the fangirls ruined his moment.

"S-She's terrifying."

"I know right? Who is she?"

"What?! You don't know her?"

"She's Atsumu's girlfriend!"

"Damn, she's really in the same league."

Just like your boyfriend, you were well known outside of your school. You have been best friends with the twins since junior high, and somehow, you become their guardian angel and the ultimate weapon to set them apart if their bickering became too much.

"You know? I think I never want you to be out of my life," It was so sudden, the three of you were just walking home together after practise, "What do you think about me, (Y/n)?"

"Huh?" You were confused with the questions, "Hmm.. Since you asked, then. You are annoying, sarcastic, stubborn-"

"Hey hey hey! That's not what I wanted to hear from you!"

"Lying prick, scoundrel-" Atsumu clamped your mouth with his palm. You were surprised by it and gave him a glare, resulting in him to stick out his tongue at you playfully. So you decided to do the same and lick his palm even though you were grossed out by it.

"Ew, what the fuck!" He groaned and wiped his palm to your uniform, "Why are you so mean to me?! You never do this to Samu!"

"Well, because Samu never pulled something like that on me. Right, Samu?" The other twin nodded and kept eating the onigiri that you made for him, "You regret saying you want me in your life forever, now?" You chuckled and hit Atsumu's arm with a lazy force,

"No," The answer caught you off guard, "I meant it, (Y/n)." It's not the words that made you shocked, but it's how his voice turned serious immediately, "Samu, go ahead. I want to talk to her."

Osamu stopped his eating and looked concerned for a split second. But then he just nodded and walked first. His eyes scanned your face for a while. When he didn't find any uncomfortable expression, he decided to leave you there with his twin brother.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Tsumu?" You tilted your head, acting so calmed outside while actually your heart has been thundering since he said that first sentence.

Atsumu just smiled, knowing exactly what's in your head. He knew you long enough to know when you felt flustered. The tinted pinkish hue on your cheek, how you try to break eye contact every few seconds, he could see right through you with just a single glance.

He leaned in slowly, testing the water with his eyes still scanning your face. You widen your eyes when he's getting closer and closer. Your hands still fall beside you, and the little gap in your lips made him sure that you, the girl that he always adores, might like him too.

So when you didn't push him away or yelled at him, he decided to close the gap between the two of you. He closed his eyes when his lips finally touched yours, and it made him relieved that you kissed him back within seconds.

Atsumu is known as someone who loves to fool around, having different girls every weekend. You knew about this, and you should have been wary by now. But when his lips touched yours, everything felt so right.

You always wanted to be the one he brought to his room, you wanted to be the one who he kissed. But you were always just to be a girl who stuck in his living room, talking with his twin brother, watched TV and turned the volume up. All because so you didn't have to hear what happened on the second floor.

So when he leaned down to kiss you, how could you say no to that. He cupped your face and kissed you passionately. Turning the soft first kiss to be heavenly. He pulled his kiss to grasp some air, smiling at you and kissed your cheek playfully.

"You are mine now." It's a demand, but you were not angry, because you know that's what you always wanted. Maybe, maybe you will be the last girl in his life. And here's hoping for you to be his forever.

For the entire match, you have been praying and thinking about what to cook to celebrate his winning today. It was like a reflex, thinking that they will always win. After all, it's still the second day of Nationals, they could push it and win the match.

But that's when you were wrong.

You couldn't believe your eyes as you saw the twins attack were blocked by the Karasuno freak duo. When the umpire whistled the blow, the only thing that ran into your mind was your boyfriend. A trait that was well known by the others was the fact that Miya Atsumu hated losing.

The others didn't have to call you, you knew that you were the ultimate back up plan to calm him down when Inarizaki lost. If even Kita couldn't handle him, then they need you to be there.

You texted Osamu that you were already in front of the changing room, knowing for sure that your boyfriend wouldn't open up his phone until later. Today's match was intense, both of the teams were hungry for victory. For you, today's match was already great for your team. After all, this will be just a mere memory tomorrow.

When you heard the door open, you immediately looked forward in hope to see your boyfriend. All of his teammates were piled up to go outside, they were all nodding at you with a faint smile on their faces. Even Kita looked upset for a second.

"He's inside," Osamu walked up to you with his calm expression, "Today's match hit a spot on his pride, please be careful." You nodded at this and thanked the grey-haired wing spiker.

What's dangerous from Miya Atsumu was his pride. It was something that sculpted him to be like the person he is today. All of the harsh words and snarked comments, it was because he really believes in his ability, and he felt superior by it.

You opened the door slowly, scanned the room to see your boyfriend standing in front of the mirror. His back was on you, but he could see your reflection through the mirror. He usually would turn his back immediately, putting his forehead on your shoulders as you stroked his hair.

But then his twin's words rang inside your head as he didn't even turn to look at you. He looked so tense, hands making a fist as his gaze hardened to his own reflection. You were worried for your boyfriend, so you took a little step towards him.

"Tsu-"

"What are you doing here?" He didn't raise his voice, but you could recognize the annoyance that was dripping on his voice. Something that he usually blurted to anyone else, but never at you, "Are you deaf?"

"W-What?" Miya Atsumu never gave you his vicious words before, so you were taken aback by it, "I am here for you of course, what else, Tsumu?"

Hearing that, he turned his head towards you. You immediately flinched and took a step backward when you saw the blazing look on his eyes. He walked up to you, and for the first time since you knew him, you were afraid.

"Oh? Here for me?" It's like he was surprised to hear that, "Why should you? I am fine, and it's not like your appearance could change the fact that I just lost." You didn't meant to make him feel bad, not at all,

"Tsumu, that's not my intent-"

"Tsumu this, Tsumu that! Why couldn't you just give me space for just a second?!" He was beyond frustrated, he knew what he did was wrong, pouring all of his frustration towards you, but he just couldn't stop, "You always act so clingy towards me, never once gave me a space!"

You felt guilty, you never meant to be like that. He never complained before, on the contrary, he usually complained if you didn't give him enough attention. You could only bite your lips. It will pass, he's just angry right now.

"Can't you understand what I've been telling you?" He leaned his face towards you, "Why the fuck that you still standing here?"

"Because I care for you, okay?!" You didn't want to lose from this battle. You wanted to show him that you were not there for yourself, you were there because you knew he would be enraged at everyone if you didn't calm him down.

"Well, news flash, (Y/n)." He gripped your wrist a little bit too tight, "I don't need you caring for me!"

"T-Tsumu, you didn't mean that," Your voice was like a whisper, you didn't even care how your wrist started to reddened, "You are just upset because of the event before," His eyes still not waver, he still looked at you like you were a nuisance, "You are great out there you know, you didn't even do any mistake, Tsu-"

"Oh, I think I made a mistake." He played flawlessly today, with the same passion that he always did, "You wanted to know what the mistake is?" Somehow, you knew you didn't want to hear it. It's like you could predict what the next word from his lips would be.

He lifted your hand in front of your face. Showing you how his grip on your wrist tightened, making you yelped, "This, us," You widened your eyes when he suddenly let go of your hand, slamming it to fall on your side, "Was a fucking mistake."

It was crazy how those words were enough to make your heart shattered. No, you didn't want to believe everything that he said. You knew he was just upset, "Tsumu, we could talk about this."

"Oh, come on! The second we shared our first kiss, the due date was already set on us," You knew him, he's just upset, "I just want you to be my girlfriend so all of those pigs would go away." You knew him, he's just upset, "Our relationship had a deadline, and now we're at it; what are you gonna do about it?"

You knew him, he's just upset.

But that doesn't mean he deserves to play with your heart like this.

"YOU ASKED ME WHAT I GONNA DO?!" You pushed him with all of your might. He was caught off guard, making him fall to the bench, "SO YOU TELL ME ALL OF THOSE CONFESSION WERE JUST A LIE?! YOU TELL ME ALL OF THOSE KISSES WAS NOTHING?!"

The door slammed, but both of you didn't even care to turned around,

"Yes! You are just someone that I used to dispel the pest away from me!" Tears were already brimming in your eyes, either it's because you were upset, or because he just stomped at your heart, you didn't even know anymore, "You were so naive that you think I would want to spend my whole life loving you!"

You bit your lips, you gave your love towards him for more than a year. But look where your love take you, cheek stained with tears in front of the man who wanted to keep you in his life forever, “You know what I am going to do?! I-”

Nothing prepared you to see someone punch the boy in front of you. You backed away immediately, cowering in front of the locker, sliding yourself to the ground as you put your arms around yourself. Your sight was blurry due to the immense tears that never stop. You didn't know what happened anymore, you just felt so lost all of a sudden.

Miya Atsumu was your first love, you gave everything to him. He owned your first kiss, he owned your first relationship, he even owned your first time. You didn't want to believe everything he said today, it was not him, he's not your Atsumu.

Suddenly, a hand helped you to stand up. You didn't have to open up your eyes to know who owned it. It belongs to none other than your boyfriend's twins. He rubbed your back calmly, glaring at his twin that was now having a nosebleed.

"Hey, Atsumu." You never called him that since forever, it gave the setter a foreign feeling somehow, "I made a mistake too," You turned your head towards him when you were already standing on the doorway, "That night, around fifteen months ago," He widened his eyes, knowing what are you going to say, "I wish I never kissed you back."

Miya Atsumu only looked at your drifting figure, he didn't even apologize for all of his harsh words. He was too prideful to admit that he was just ashamed to face you due to him losing from the school that wasn't even considered as a top school.

He was too prideful to even ask for your forgiveness and told you that it was just the demon inside of him who snapped at you. He wiped the blood away from his nose, banging his forehead on the locker as the realisation dawned on him.

He told you that all of these feelings for you were just a lie. That it's just one of his disastrous schemes. What a lie, an idiotic lie. He laughed bitterly all of a sudden, grabbing his bag that was dropped on the floor. If he met you, maybe he would apologize, maybe.

And again, he was too prideful for himself. You would be by his side again, after all, you were really in love with him. He didn't have to apologize, he was sure you still love him anyway.

No matter how many times he lied to you or canceled your date all of a sudden, you were always so understanding. Therefore, he believed that everything will be back like it used to be.

Blinded by his own pride, he just lost one person that ever truly loved him.

But he didn't even know it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*     ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶    *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tagged Lovelies:

@allywritesimagines @benewol @letmeshouyou @nitricflame @iwaixiumi @vventure @heccingdead @muffins-puffins @miyulovestowrite @nanashinanashi @muffngw @vlovers-world @proplayer-kenma @kashika @cuddlyasahi @blacckdiamondposts @muffngw

#atsumu miya #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #miya atsumu imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #hq atsumu #atsumu scenario

[thearminarlerts]

Serendipity, Armin Arlert

Chapter One, At First Glance

Pairing: Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ymir drags a reluctant Reader to the library in order to study for Professor Ackerman’s upcoming test, and while Reader begins to regret her decision of even coming in the first place, she proceeds to catch a short glimpse of a certain blonde-headed boy, who causes all of her previous thoughts to be immediately discarded.

Warnings: Swearing

━ Word Count: 4.5k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Ymir was revealed to be standing behind the door of your dorm room when you opened it, just as she had informed in the previous text message she sent barely a few seconds ago. An annoyed expression was evidently plastered along her freckled face, an expression she wore nearly half the time you were around her. A few loose strands of her hair from her low ponytail were either sitting freely beside her cheeks or tucked behind her ears.

Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were formed into a tight line while she observed your appearance, clearly unsatisfied. "You're still not ready?" Not only was the tone of her voice laced with immense irritation, but the look on her face resembled it as well.

You rolled your eyes and took a step back into the dorm, allowing for her to enter just after you. "Well, I'm sorry that you only gave me a five-minute heads up."

Ymir crossed her arms over her chest after tossing the backpack onto the floor beside her. "That leaves you with more than enough time to get ready. And besides, we spoke about this yesterday morning, but your memory is absolute shit, so it's no shock that you forgot."

"I already told you I'm not going." You jumped back onto your bed with a small plop while raising your brows at her and pretending not to have heard her insult.

It's not that you didn't want to study because obviously, you did (especially for a test in Ackerman's class out of everything), but you genuinely didn't feel like going anywhere other than your bed. Call it your repetitive laziness, but just the thought of stepping outside your dorm for somewhere other than your classes made you want to cry out in frustration. It was easily noted as the last thing you wanted to do today.

"And I also told you I'd drag your ass out of here if you didn't go." She challenged with a truthful comeback. "Now hurry the hell up and change unless you plan on going to the library with your stained Hello Kitty pajamas."

An all-too-familiar hostile stare-down took place just moments after her retort, the both of your eyes bored into the other.

"You're going," Ymir states while not breaking eye contact, her voice stern and steady.

"Like hell I am." You answer sarcastically with raised brows after rolling your eyes in their sockets. You were acting painfully immature, but you seriously didn't want to go anywhere. The fact that Ymir was the type of person to forcefully make you go wasn't helping the least bit.

"Get your whiny ass up, Y/N. You're seriously getting on my nerves."

"Absolutely not." You huffed, holding yourself up using your elbows as you laid sprawled on your bed. "I can make my own choices."

Ymir stomped towards your wardrobe and threw it open without permission (not that she even cared; she was already overly furious with you enough as is).

"What are you doing?"

She threw you a side glare as if the answer was the most obvious in the world. "What does it look like I'm doing, idiot?"

You smacked the palm of your hand against your head. "Good Lord, you'll mess up that closet trying to find something."

"Then come look for something yourself!"

There was no point in continuously arguing and bantering back and forth like little children anymore. Knowing Ymir, she would definitely drag you out by your ear while still in your pajamas if you refuse any longer, and you really didn't want to go through any of that horrible pain again. You had learned enough from the first time it happened.

You let out a loud sigh that contained a mixture of defeat and reluctance, trudging towards your wooden wardrobe with sluggish steps, and you didn't quite miss the small curve of Ymir's lips as she smirked in triumph at her usual win while you strode past her. You pushed her away with your hand, and she stumbled back slightly from the excessive force, but the grin on her face didn't falter the least bit.

After about another five minutes of you tossing your unwanted outfit choices into the growing pile adjacent to your bed and listening to the scolding and exasperated voice of Ymir, who kept telling you that she would've done a much better job of finding something herself, you finally chose something decent to wear and left your dorm room.

But just when you were halfway down the hall had you realized that you forgot your own backpack (which made Ymir grow even more vexed, if possible) and you had to run back and grab it. You received a small smack on the back of your head from her once you returned, which resulted in you hissing in pain and clutching the spot where she jokingly hit you far too harder than she anticipated (though she wasn't complaining).

━━━━━━━

The walk to the library from your college dorm building wasn't too long of a walk ━ roughly about 5-10 minutes if you didn't get distracted and strode with a fast-enough pace.

The weather was particularly decent this afternoon, where the sun was shining luminously in the bright blue and cloudless sky above you, so you and your friend both decided that a walk was the way you two wanted to go. (You began regretting your choice halfway through the journey when you stepped into a pile of fresh dog poop on the sidewalk with your new shoes. Your mood grew sour because of this, and Ymir's had brightened instead. She claimed that this was your 'karma' for not wanting to go in the first place, and she wouldn't stop laughing because of it.)

She was still continuously laughing by the time you arrived in front of your college's library, and you were so incredibly irritated that you finally elbowed her hard in the stomach. She shut up immediately after that, though her body would still occasionally jolt as she tried to suppress her chuckles.

The air-conditioned cold inside of the building was a great contrast to the moderate warmth from outside, and you shivered as you entered the library, your body slowly beginning to readjust to the new temperature.

Ymir tugged her zip-up hoodie around her tighter in an attempt to gain the slightest amount of heat, and you silently scolded yourself for not thinking of bringing your own sweater. You just knew for a fact that Ymir wouldn't want to give you her sweater to wear (she'd probably start laughing about your idiocy), so you weren't even going to bother asking.

You found an empty table in the back of the library after a minute of rummaging and scouting for one. It was placed farther than any of the remaining tables, which meant that nobody would be able to hear your conversations unless they tried their absolute hardest to.

Ymir took a seat across from you, placing her backpack into the seat contiguous to her, and you copied her action, plopping your bag with a loud thud against the wooden material of the chair beside you.

"Remind me again why I decided to come here?" You whined softly, rubbing your eyes as you shifted your position in the uncomfortable chair.

"Because we both don't want to fail Ackerman's class," Ymir replied while slamming a textbook she withdrew from her bag onto the table with a harsher-than-necessary slam that caused a few people to turn their heads your way. "You of all people should know how picky he gets when grading, and he doesn't offer retakes."

You propped your elbows against the top of the table, the immediate coldness of the surface causing you to tremble slightly. "Yeah, I get that, but why'd you need to drag me here? Nearly all of our necessary resources can easily be found in either my or your dorm room."

"Exactly ━ nearly. Not all. We still need a few more textbooks from here."

"Textbooks we easily could have gotten on any other day. And I would have much preferred it to have been tomorrow."

"Just shut it already, you little dipshit. You'd have pulled the same I don't want to go act again, and you know that damn well." She mocked you in a voice that was supposed to resemble your own, but she only made it sound more irritating than it needed to be.

"And how would you know that?" You fought back.

"Because you did this exact thing last week when I asked you to come study. Luckily Historia asked me to go, so I ditched you for her. Should've done the same again this time." She grumbled the last part of her sentence in a low mumble, though you were still able to ascertain it even if she thought it passed by as undetectable.

"Yes, you should've. Because I could easily have been doing something productive in the meantime instead of wasting my time by sitting here arguing with you while there's dried dog shit on my shoes."

"Productive?" Ymir raised her brows and scoffed. "Don't tell me you think binge eating junk food and reading fanfiction for hours non-stop is productive?"

"In my views, it is." You replied nonchalantly, raising your shoulders up and down in a shrug. "It enhances my vocabulary skills."

You were especially grateful that you had chosen to be seated so far away from the other college students because they most likely would've gotten seriously annoyed with the way you and Ymir bickered with each other back and forth like immature toddlers. Obviously the arguments weren't intentionally meant to hurt the other, but they always seemed to spring up whenever you were around her. And if she didn't back down, neither would you.

Another minute or two passed with the both of you bantering like imbecilic animals, and by the look spread across your face, you were clearly having enough.

"Okay, how about we both shut the hell up and actually study?" You finally seethed through your teeth. You were both here arguing like little idiots instead of doing the one thing you came here to do ━ study.

"For once I agree with something you say." Ymir huffed.

You threw her a death glare, eyes throwing daggers into her face. "I hooked you up with Historia, so don't go saying shit like that. Besides, you love me ━ even if you don't want to admit it."

"Yeah, yeah," She swatted her hand in the air dismissively, "keep telling yourself that, you idiot."

"Remind me again why I'm even friends with you?" You asked jokingly while busying yourself with the packet in your hand to get some work done. Although your attention was partially trained on the materials in front of you, you didn't miss the way Ymir rolled her eyes in response.

━━━━━━━

A good 50 minutes must have passed since you arrived. A vast majority of the time was spent actually beneficially studying, and you're sure that you'd remember what Ymir was quizzing you on if you thought upon it really hard in your mind. You didn't have a good attention span, so Ymir would constantly have to snap her fingers in front of your face to get you to focus again.

"Lemme go get something, I'll be right back." She informed, and she stood up and sauntered in the opposite direction. Her figure disappeared from your view as she entered one of the library aisles, scattered with books of all genres and topics in neat rows.

But as soon as she left your table, leaving you all alone in the little corner you sat in, your eyes wandered ahead from the spot where she was previously seated towards a couple of aisles down where someone stood with a library cart beside him, housing numerous books needed to be placed back into their prior spots.

The height of the library shelves that he stood next to allowed you to distinguish how tall he was ━ and he had a fairly decent height. Short, blonde hair lay tousled on the top of his head along with eyes so blue and beautiful that you were able to see them from so far away. His pupils were focused on reading the spine of a book he was holding, and your eyes couldn't help but saunter towards his hands ━ long fingers, and light blue veins that were protruding from underneath the layer of skin. Your gaze traveled from his hands towards his biceps, which you noted were very toned from excessive workouts, and the way his shirt hugged them so neatly and effortlessly made your mouth pool with drool.

You had to blink a good five times to make sure that what you were seeing was genuinely reality. There was surely no possible way someone so exquisite and captivating was truly real. He could easily be compared to an angel sent from above. Just how had you not seen him before?

Were you in heaven? Because in all honesty, it sure felt like it.

He could sense the gaze of someone watching him, so he turned his head up and just so happened to look in your direction, but before he was able to get a good glance at you, Ymir returned to her seat and blocked his view of you and your view of him.

You wanted to move. You wanted to turn your head to the side to see him again, to catch another glimpse of his precious and angelic face before he went away, but it was like your body wasn't allowing you to do so. You were frozen in your seat, heart thumping inside of your chest so rapidly and viscously that you could practically hear it yourself.

"You okay there?" Ymir's voice brought you back from your thoughts, and you nearly suffered from a heart attack right then and there when she asked you the question. "You look like you're on the verge of death."

You shook your head and brought your hand up towards your forehead, calming your breaths in order for your heart to return to its normal pumping pace. "No, no, I'm fine. I don't know what went through me."

She was watching you through furrowed brows in concern, obviously not believing your answer, but before she could question you any further, you hurriedly decided to change the topic. "What'd you get?" You asked, referring to the new textbook held between her hands.

She still seemed suspicious about what had just happened previously (especially since you were still breathing like a literal maniac), but she soon gave in when she realized you wouldn't talk about the topic any longer. You were as stubborn as they get, so she wouldn't be able to pry it from you either.

She began babbling to you about what the textbook is about and how Historia had recommended she get it the next time she was at the library, but you tuned out practically everything she said. You didn't mean to, of course, it wasn't intentional, but your attention was focused on something else, someone else. . .

Someone who wasn't even there anymore when you finally gathered the courage to peek behind Ymir, who didn't seem to notice your lack of awareness ━ or so you thought.

"And then my dog ate my arm. . ."

You mumbled a small "Mhm", totally unaware that Ymir had caught on that you weren't listening to her anymore.

She smacked the textbook held in her grip against your head, earning a loud thump as it painfully collided with your skull.

"Ow!" You scowled as you rubbed the top of your head in pain when she retreated the book back towards her, forgetting to keep your voice down for a second. "What on Earth was that for?" You aggressively whispered in a hushed tone.

"For not listening to a single thing I said this entire time. The hell is up with you?"

"Nothing, I just dozed off as usual." You continued to massage the top of your head in order to get rid of the throbbing pain left by the harsh and unnecessary slap of the textbook. "Not my fault your explanations are so boring."

Ymir rolled her eyes, stretching her sore back. "You're such a handful."

"Says you!"

She let out an exaggerated sigh before turning back to the papers and books messily sprawled in front of her. Her posture was tense and rigid, and she couldn't stop her right leg from bouncing up and down repetitively. It was evident that she was tired and aggravated from all the work you both had done for the day, but she didn't want to say anything.

You brought your fingers down from your head when the pounding grew less agonizing than before. "How much longer are we going to be here? I promised Hitch I'd be back before sunset to help her with something."

"Is that another lie?" She raised her brows in amusement and threw you a knowing look.

"No! Do you want me to text her to reassure?" You began to search through your backpack for your phone, but Ymir stopped you.

"I was just messing with you." She chuckled full-heartedly and took a look at the clock ticking behind your head. "I think we've done enough studying for today, anyway."

"Finally. I thought you'd forcefully keep me in here till sunrise." You exclaimed with a weak giggle, your eyes getting slightly droopy from your identifiable exhaustion.

"Don't go putting any ideas into my head." She smirked and playfully shoved your shoulder.

You laughed in response before beginning to clean up the mess of your table.

━━━━━━━

Once everything was as tidy as it had been when you first arrived, and you returned the textbooks that you didn't need anymore back to where they were before, you slung your backpack over your shoulder. Ymir did the same as you, holding a textbook in her hand that she had checked out to borrow.

"You left a dog shit stain." You felt her breath against your ear as she whispered.

"What?" You whipped your head around in the direction to where you previously sat, tensing the muscles in your neck because of the sudden action.

"I'm just joking." She laughed.

You punched her in the shoulder. "You're not funny, Ymir. You literally had me so concerned."

"It's funny to rile you up," She chuckled while you both maneuvered your way through the semi-vacant library, observing the remainder of students seated at their own tables with their noses buried in either their books or laptops. "You're always so predictable."

Ymir retorted with something again, but you didn't quite catch what she said as your eyes traveled around the entire library searching for the blonde boy you had seen earlier.

He wasn't anywhere to be seen, much to your dismay.

"What is it with you today? Are you being hunted by an assassin or something? You keep frantically looking around the place as if someone's planning on killing you."

You nudged her shoulder teasingly, retracting your eyes from the building towards her and trying your best to hide the reason behind why you're doing what you are. "As if anyone would want to kill someone as perfect as me."

"I'd do it for free if I had the chance." She mumbled under her breath.

You slapped her hand.

"Hey!" She exclaimed.

Someone entering the library held the door open for you, and you thanked them before turning back to Ymir with a smirk. "That's payback for earlier, sweetheart."

"Guess I deserve it." She mumbled reluctantly. "You've got a weak slap, though."

"Only because I didn't want to hurt you." You explained. "Can't say the same for you, though. You nearly gave me a concussion today ━ two, as a matter of fact."

She ruffled your hair, and you slightly winced when her hand made contact with the place she hit you with her textbook. "You know I love you."

A cheesy grin arose on your face, illuminated by the bright street lamp you walked past. "Who doesn't?"

Ymir scoffed and fixed the bag against her shoulders. "I take that back."

━━━━━━━

"Anyways, want to head out into town tomorrow? Heard there's a new café opening near that smoothie shop we always go to." You questioned curiously, attempting to make plans with your best friend as you leaned your body against the side of your open door frame to help keep you up. Your body and legs were sore from all the walking and sitting you had done today, and you were containing the great urge to collapse onto the floor with every last bit of strength in you.

"Can't." Ymir gave you a sad smile from outside in the hallway while she toyed with the strings of her hoodie. "I'm hanging out with Historia."

"I really need to talk some sense into her because she's always stealing you away from me." You replied with a laugh, your foot tapping against the carpeted ground. You felt your mouth open as you conclusively let out a spiritless sigh. "Guess I'll just see you in class then?"

"Yup, see you in the morning." She pointed her finger towards you in a scolding manner before replying, "Just don't oversleep this time. I won't be there to wake you up again, and Hitch will probably skip her first few classes because of some throbbing hangover."

"I always wonder how she's able to party so much. . ." You turned your head around to where your roommate, Hitch, was ━ lying peacefully in bed with her head faced up towards the ceiling and eyes closed shut while she listened to some music. "Anyways, I'll try not to, but I swear my alarm is just somehow broken!" Your hands jolted into the air to add to your exaggerated reply.

"Yeah, yeah." The look on Ymir's face told you that she didn't seem to believe your statement. "See you tomorrow, idiot."

"See ya." You waved before closing the door shut and locking it.

"Could hear you two talking shit about me," Hitch said from her side of the room, removing the earbuds from her ears and looking at you with raised brows.

You knew she was listening to your and Ymir's conversation (she always did that, after all), but you didn't bother commenting on it. She'd only end up denying it and saying you were just imagining things.

"You know we didn't mean it." You pouted. "Forgive me, please?"

She sat up from her bed with one swift motion, tossing her phone to the side. "I'll forgive you if you help me find something to wear for tonight, like you promised."

Your lips turned upwards into a bright smile. "Deal."

"Are you sure that you don't want to go out with me tonight, though?" She queried as you made your way beside her wardrobe and began to search through her hangers of clothing to put together an outfit choice for her. "I promise it'll be lots of fun."

"Maybe another time." You calmly replied while pulling out a dark, emerald green dress and scanning your eyes across it before placing it back into the closet.

Hitch leaned against the opened door of her closet with her arms crossed over her chest. "You say that every time, Y/N."

You emitted an audible exhale, silently pleading for her to change the topic of parties to positively anything else. "I know, Hitch, but partying isn't really my thing. . ."

You paused for a moment and allowed your thoughts to sink in before adding, "I promise I'll attend at least one party with you before the end of the year, though?"

"You better." A grin emerged on her face. "Otherwise I'll make Ymir drag you there by force."

You retracted your eyesight from the closet towards her, raising your brows while you laughed. "I don't think she'd betray me like that."

"Hm," She simply shrugged, "you never know. That girl will do anything if you bribe her well enough."

━━━━━━━

It wasn't long until you found something for your roommate to wear ━ a revealing, blood-red dress that left little to no room for the imagination, along with fishnet tights and a pair of heels that weren't too tall or uncomfortable to move in while wearing.

Hitch snagged a piece of jewelry from your side of the room during the time you spent fixing up her outfit, but not before asking for permission beforehand. (It took some pleading, but you finally gave in and allowed her to borrow it for the night, bearing the chance that she might lose it during her time at the party.)

She was busying herself with her makeup in front of her desk, applying the last bit of red lipstick along her lips ━ a color that matched perfectly in comparison to her dress.

You pulled up the last bit of your sweatpants up against your body and jumped onto your bed, watching Hitch fluffing up her hair just across the room.

"Don't you get tired from attending all these parties so much?" You always wondered how in the world she always held such enthusiasm and energy to attend so many of these parties day in and day out, and you secretly ━ only a tad bit ━ grew jealous because of it. You didn't nearly display the same amount of eagerness as she did in the slightest whatsoever.

"They are boring half of the time, I'm not gonna lie, but the chance of hooking up with a hottie is what gets me going." She dragged her high-heeled feet across the room to grab her black purse. "And besides, it's the college experience!"

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes. "Attending shitty frat parties is 'the college experience'?"

"Don't go judging them when you haven't even been to one yourself." Hitch retorted while pulling her dress down.

"You literally just said that 'they're boring half of the time', so that tells me everything I need to know, thank you very much." You crossed your legs while replying, sarcasm discernible in your response.

"You know I love you and all, Y/N, but sometimes you really need to live a little. Obviously I'm not going to force you to go, but just please put some thought into it because you'll only attend college parties once in your life."

"Thank you for such wise words Hitch, they really touched me." You placed a hand against your heart, and she threw you a look that told you she was actually being serious. "Alright, alright, fine! I'll think about it."

"You better!"

You laughed. "Anyways, have fun! And be responsible!"

She gave you a small kiss on the cheek before scurrying out of your dorm room after one last wave, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a new bag of chips just waiting to be eaten.

A/N: I know that this chapter was probably very boring to read as there was more interaction with Hitch and Ymir than anything, but I promise there will be more Armin interaction/content soon!! I'm trying not to make this go too fast, so it's definitely going to be a slow-paced series (from my plans now at least; it might change in the future). I don't really have a certain 'plot' in mind since I just write what comes to my head at the moment, so bear with me if chapters take an extensive amount of time to update! Thanks!!

Tag List: Open!!

all rights reserved © thearminarlerts please do not copy, modify, or repost any of my works.

#armin arlert x reader #armin x reader #armin #armin arlert #aot #attack on titan #armin arlert x reader smut #armin x you

[sassyhobbits]

Could we have an oln extra from elorcan pretty please *doggy eyes*

it would be my pleasure ;)

this takes place about a year before the ons epilogue!!!!!

elorcan ons oneshot pt1

~~~

Lorcan Salvaterre considered himself to be a level-headed man. He had immense patience and rarely let his emotions, positive or negative, get the better of him.

That’s why it was so surprising that anxiety had been roiling in his gut for the past week.

In the two years he had been living in Terrasen, so many things had changed.

Aelin had given him a job in security at the palace and he had recently been promoted to the head. His relationship with Elide had been growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. They had recently moved in together, Elide moving away from her native Perranth to work more closely with her family in the capital.

Lorcan never would have expected that the chore of traveling to Terrasen with Remelle would lead to so many wonderful things in his life.

He knew that he was in love with Elide. It was like nothing else he had ever felt in his life. He had never cared for anyone the same way he cared for her. It only meant one thing.

Which was why he was anxious.

Lorcan held no doubts about the fact that Elide loved him just as he loved her.

Yet the idea of proposing to her was utterly terrifying.

It hadn’t been a dramatic moment when he realized he wanted to marry her.

It had been a lazy morning in the apartment, and Elide had started on some eggs. Lorcan remembered leaning back on the kitchen island, admiring how she looked in his shirt, her dark hair glistening in the golden morning sun. And… he had just known. That he wanted to marry her. It hadn’t felt like a new idea, instead something he had discovered deep inside of him, as if it had always been there. Elide was it for him, that he knew.

But to propose to her, he would first need to get a fucking ring.

It was much more daunting a task than he would have expected.

Lorcan didn’t truly have an eye for finery, he never had, but he knew Elide deserved the very best.

Which was why he was calling for backup.

He made the call as he was driving towards the palace for work, dialing the number of someone he knew would be there. The other line rang for a few moments, and Lorcan wondered if he wouldn’t answer. But, there was finally a click and an irritable voice barking through the speaker.

“What the fuck do you want, Lorcan?”

Lorcan couldn’t stop himself from grinning at Rowan’s anger. There were only a few times when his friend would give in to his frustrations.

“I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?” Lorcan asked coyly. Rowan had confided in him earlier that month that he and Aelin had finally decided to try for a baby. Which meant they were having a ridiculous amount of sex.

“You know you did, you ass,” Rowan grumbled. Lorcan heard a soft, feminine laugh from the background followed by the shifting of sheets. It seemed whatever had been happening was now over. “What do you want?”

Lorcan simply blurted it out. “I need to buy a ring for Elide so I can propose but I don’t know where to start.”

There were a few heartbeats of all-encompassing silence on the other end of the call. “Oh. Wow. That’s big news, Lor.”

“Yeah… but, are you busy today? Can you help?”

Rowan released a long sigh. Lorcan could practically envision him running a hand through his short, silver hair. “I would, but to be honest, I wouldn’t know what to do either. I didn’t even pick out Aelin’s engagement ring myself.”

Damn. Lorcan had forgotten about that. They were so damned in love with each other that it was easy to forget about the rocky start to their originally arranged marriage.

“But,” Rowan continued. “I know someone who could help, if you want to call in the big guns.”

“Yeah. Anything. I need to get this right. Elide deserves it.”

“Damn right. I’ll let her know.”

…

The big gun’s Chanel heels clicked noisily on the marble floor of the jewelry shop she had picked out. As princess, Aelin Galathynius held a lot of sway and managed to get them a private shopping appointment at the shop she insisted would have what he needed.

She had spent the morning and the entirety of the ride to the shop giving him a basic understanding of jewelry and what women wanted. He hadn’t even thought about how the band color should compliment skin tone or that there were better ways of cutting diamonds. Some women didn’t even want diamonds as the main stones. Aelin’s own was an emerald. It was far more complicated than he had hoped.

Lorcan had never really spent much time one-on-one with the princess, but he liked her well enough. Her attitude had grated him the wrong when they had first met, but it soon found out that she was actually a good person. Tough as nails, too. She would make a fearsome queen one day.

“I’m not going to pick the ring out for you,” Aelin said shortly, smoothing out her silk skirt. “Elide deserves better than that. But, I can point you in the right direction.”

“Whatever you say.”

The princess gave a curt nod and motioned towards a glimmering display, filled with stunning, beautiful rings. He watched as Aelin ran an expert eye over them.

“These are the best designers,” she explained. “The rings are beautiful and crafted perfectly. Quality. If you want to get Elide something nice, this is where you’d get it.”

Lorcan nodded slowly, looking back towards the countless rings. He felt his nerves build up again as he looked towards them, wondering how the hell he was supposed to know which one was the right one. He felt Aelin’s eyes skipping back and forth from the jewelry to him, and he had no doubt she had already decided which one Elide would like best. He didn’t know if he wanted to thank her or strangle her for not telling him which one it was.

Lorcan took a deep breath, trying to tame his pounding heart. He studied the rows slowly, attempting to find one that he knew would encapture the woman he loved. He was just beginning to think that it was hopeless, that he’d fuck it up no matter what, when his gaze finally caught on one.

It was made of a bright, gleaming silver that twisted gracefully, supporting an oval-shaped diamond. A few smaller diamonds embraced the middle one each side. It was simple, but elegant. Lorcan knew Elide wouldn’t want the ring with the largest diamond on it, wouldn’t want it to be too loud or ostentatious. But this… this was perfect. He could already practically see it perched on her finger.

“That one,” Lorcan said confidently, pointing towards the ring. “That one is perfect.”

He looked towards Aelin, finding her lips spreading in a slow smile. She gave a pleased nod. “That’s an excellent choice. Elide’ll love that one.”

It was in that moment that it fully settled on Lorcan that this was real, that this was happening. He was going to propose to the women he loved. And hopefully she would say yes.

“I’m happy for you, Lorcan,” Aelin said earnestly. “For some reason, your miserable ass makes Elide very happy, and I can see she does the same for you. I’m glad you found each other.” With that, her eyes narrowed slightly and she leaned closer, lowering her voice. “That being said if you hurt her, what I’d do to you would make what I did to Hamel and his men seem merciful. Understand?”

It was easy to forget that under that golden hair and pretty clothes, Aelin Galathynius was a certified bad-ass. One that even Lorcan didn’t want to get on the bad side of. Not that he would ever admit that to her aloud. It would make her already enormous ego that much bigger.

“Believe me when I say,” Lorcan began. “That I am going to do everything in my power to make Elide happy until the darkness claims us.”

Aelin seemed satisfied with that answer. “I do believe you. Now, let’s get that ring.”

…

Buying the ring was only half of the struggle. Now Lorcan had to figure out the best way to propose to Elide.

It was constantly on the back of his mind, no matter what he was doing. At work, in the shower, lounging around the apartment with Elide… it wouldn’t leave him alone.

Neither would Aelin fucking Galathynius. Every time she saw him in the halls, she would bother him with questions about it. Whether or not he had picked a time, or if he was ever going to pull his head out of his ass and ask her at all. It was annoying as hell. He wasn’t going around asking her every thirty minutes if Rowan had finally knocked her up. But… although she was mildly infuriating, it was somehow a pretty good motivator.

After a week and a half of the idea of the ring burning a hole through his mind, Lorcan finally decided it was time.

It was Lysandra’s birthday, and they had all gathered at the palace to celebrate with friends and family. It was a small, private affair, but it didn’t make it any less enjoyable. In fact, Lorcan preferred it over large parties any day.

They enjoyed a nice dinner, everyone wishing Lysandra a happy birthday. She was beaming the entire night with Aedion by her side. Their own wedding was only two weeks away.

Lorcan had struggled to pay attention to the others around him all evening. His attention had been pinned on Elide the entire time. She looked lovely tonight in a silky, violet top and high-waisted white trousers, dark hair falling down her back in a gleaming sheet.

If anyone noted his distraction during dinner, they didn’t say anything. By the time desert had been consumed and they had moved to the parlor for cocktailing, he was nearly jittery. Or as close to jittery as he would allow himself to become.

He had finished one drink before he decided it was time. He was done with playing around.

“Elide, love?” he murmured into her ear from where he was sitting next to her on the couch.

“Yes, Lor?” she asked, turning towards him. Her fair cheeks were flushed from either the wine or laughing with her friends, dark eyes practically sparkling with happiness. The sight made his heart swell.

“Will you come with me for a bit?”

Elide raised a dark brow in question but nodded, placing her glass on the low table before her. Most of the room was too lost in conversation to notice them slipping quietly away, but Aelin’s sharp eyes landed on him. She was tucked under Rowan’s arm, lips spreading in a slow, knowing smile. As soon as Elide’s back was turned, the princess mouthed, Good luck.

Lorcan refrained from scowling at her, slipping his hand into Elide’s and guiding her gently out of the parlor.

The halls were dark and quiet, the light of the full moon bathing the marble floors in a pale glow. It almost felt as if they were the only two people in the world. Lorcan wouldn’t have minded that one bit.

The ring box felt like a massive weight in his pocket as he held Elide’s hand tighter.

“What are you up to, Salvaterre?” Elide asked playfully, leaning into his side.

“You’ll see soon enough.”

“A surprise?”

“You’ll see.”

Elide narrowed her eyes suspiciously. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. She was too smart for her own good. It was one of the things he loved about her. Lorcan wouldn’t put it past her to figure out what he was about to do before he did it. He could only hope that the gods were on his side tonight.

Lorcan led Elide outside towards the gardens. They were a beautiful space, taken meticulous care of throughout the year, filled with trimmed bushes and aromatic flowers. The summer air was comfortably warm, filled with the scent of night-blooming jasmine. With the light of the stars above them and the privacy, it was a perfectly romantic spot.

Lorcan led Elide over to a low, white stone bench situated before a tinkling fountain. He urged her to sit, taking the spot beside her, refusing to release her hand. He rubbed his thumb in slow circles over the smooth skin of her knuckles.

Lorcan tried to will words to his mouth, but it seemed the nerves had finally taken hold, making it far more difficult than he was used to.

“Elide,” he finally managed to rasp out, lifting his gaze to meet hers. “You mean the world to me. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my lifetime. You know that, right?”

Elide smiled softly and nodded, placing her palm on the side of her face and looking deeply into his eyes. “I know. And I love you just the same.”

He didn’t think ELide would ever understand just how much those words meant to him. He was undeserving of a woman like Elide, but he would try every day of his life to become worthy of her.

“Elide…” Lorcan breathed. “You’re the love of my life. I treasure every day, every moment, I get to spend with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you… if you’ll have me.” With that, Lorcan slid from the bench to the ground, getting down on one knee on the soft grass. He pulled the velvet box from his pocket, prying it open and holding it out towards Elide, feeling as though he was holding his very heart out in his hands.

Elide gasped and slapped a hand over her chest, eyes wide.

“Elide Lochan…” Lorcan said lowly, watching her face as her lips pressed together tightly and her eyes began to glisten in the silvery moonlight. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

The single second of silence that followed his question was excruciating. But, eventually Elide relieved his suffering by choking out a sob and nodding.

“Yes, Lorcan,” she gasped. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

Lorcan released a breathy laugh, almost unable to believe that she had actually said yes. He recovered from his shock quickly, taking Elide’s hand within his own and slipping the ring on to her finger. He had been right, it did look perfect on her.

“It’s beautiful, Lorcan,” Elide whispered, looking at the diamond for one more moment before launching herself at him. Her arms wrapped around the back of her neck as her lips came crashing down upon his. Lorcan didn’t hesitate before sweeping her up in his arms and rising, kissing the woman he loved, his fiancé, deeply.

“I love you so much,” Elide murmured against his mouth, laughing and crying and kissing him.

“I love you too, Elide. So much.”

Lorcan’s heart had never been fuller.

…

They stayed in the quiet gardens for a bit longer, lounging in the peace and privacy they provided. Lorcan held Elide the entire time, whispering in her ear about how beautiful she was and how excited he was to marry her.

But, eventually they decided to head back inside to their friends and break the news.

Elide wore a smile on her face the entire walk back. Lorcan had a matching one of his own.

As they reached the threshold, the low murmuring of voices faded away, all eyes on them. Neither he nor Elide said anything at first, only wearing those grins.

Eventually, Aelin sat up straighter, and demanded, “Well?!”

Lorcan looked down at Elide as she slowly raised her left hand higher, showing off her new ring. “We’re getting married!”

The room erupted into shouts of surprise and congratulations. Not all of them had known what Lorcan had planned to do. He figured the less people who had known the better, especially since Fenrys had a big, fat mouth.

Lorcan dealt with the attention the best he could, accepting a hug from Lysandra, clasping forearms with Aedion and Rowan, and shoving Fenrys away when he placed a smacking kiss upon his cheek.

Once the initial surprise had gone away, they all moved to sitting down once more. Aedion grabbed a bottle of champagne and popped it open to celebrate.

“Being engaged is all fun and games until it comes to the wedding planning,” Lysandra sighed dramatically. From across the room, Rowan gave a tiny grunt of agreement as Aedion nodded solemnly. “It’s so much work. You just want everything to go perfect. I’m still stressing about ours.”

“I’m sure everything will be great,” Elide assured her. “For both of us.”

“Yeah, and just think about it,” Aelin added, running her fingers through Rowan’s short hair. “No matter what happens at either of your weddings… it won’t be nearly as bad as our first one.”

A beat of silence.

Lorcan watched as Rowan looked up towards his wife disapprovingly. “That’s still not funny, Aelin.”

“It’s a little funny. It’s okay to laugh.”

Although Rowan didn’t take her up on that offer, the rest of them released tiny chuckles. It wasn’t much longer that they were back to rapid-fire conversation and rambunctious laughter. Rowan and Aelin as well as Aedion and Lysandra shared stories about the woes of wedding planning. Although it did seem daunting, Lorcan held no doubt in his heart that they would persevere.

He glanced back down at Elide, the woman that he loved, before brushing a kiss over the top of her hair. She leaned deeper into his side, snuggling close.

Every minute of work would be worth it to call Elide his wife.

#elorcan #one night standards #ons one shot #my writing #throne of glass

[afterarrowhours]

Names to use: Lilly

Pronouns: She/They

Sexuality: Bi/Demi (no pref)

Fears: I have a fear of rather common things, spiders, needles, and to a lesser extent snakes. I've held snakes before and for a short time my younger brother owned one, however, coming into contact with one out in the wild is horrifying.

Hobbies: I read quite a lot, write, bake, and sometimes sew though I can never finish anything. I love to organize and clean, I often tear my own room apart just to put it back together again. I also keep a nice little garden that I grow flowers and such in.

Interests: I have a very immense interest in writing in a more professional way, I love to learn and I have a myriad of encyclopedia books mostly on flowers and art history. I very much appreciate horror movies, books, and comics but along with true crimes. I have a profound care for romance as well, though mostly on the more horrible side. I like to see fictional people suffer, even if it ends up hurting my own heart. I just generally take interest in the nature of humanity, relationships and all. While it's isn't associated with interest, I am 19 and going through college currently.

Personality:  I'm a Virgo sun, Libra moon, INFJ-T, 6W1/1W2. I'm very shy, reserved, and awkward when approaching new people, frankly judgemental with them. First impressions are sort of everything to me. So if I have an idea about someone, it sticks. It'll take a bit to convince me otherwise. I have terrible social anxiety though I do my best to push past it. Once I've found someone I can trust, I cherish them completely. I have some bad anger issues though I'd say I'm good at keeping myself calm in a more public atmosphere. I do my very best to just, keep to myself.  I'm very protective over the people I care about, I do anything in my power to accommodate them if I can and do my best to provide advice whenever they need it. Once someone truly gets to know me I break more so out of my shell, I'm much more bold and open. Intense some may say. I can get pretty chaotic when I'm 100% in my element.

What my plans are: I'm still in school, though I have a part-time job it isn't necessarily what I'd like to be doing in the foreseeable future. I'd love to own my own bakery, write my own books and I just in general have a lot of ideas and goals for myself that I'm working as hard as I can to get to.

What I look for in a roommate: Someone who cleans up after themselves, I don't mind doing dishes or tidying up but I hate to clean up after others in the sense that the mess was left there for me or because they're simply too lazy to pick up. It's infuriating. Mess makes me greatly uncomfortable, things need to be orderly. Otherwise, who they are doesn't matter to me as long as they're nice and don't mind someone like me.

What I look for in general relationships: As I've said, I'm very protective, I'm open to being aquatinted but friendship I'm less open to unless I've known someone long enough and romance even longer. I need to know someone before they know me, completely. I need an honest and upfront partner. Someone who can assure me when I need it. I'm a very insecure person and given past experiences I usually feel rather replaceable and annoying along with not liking how I look. Someone who's good with helping me out of a funk and encouraging me to act or simply not feel like absolute shit.

//I wish I could write more but I'm sure this is long enough 😭, have a good day!

Thank you Lilly! We have received many responses to your application! Though we found one of the following monsters highly compatible:

Johnathan Joestar:

A second generation minotaur, but don't let that fool you. He is still a very large, and very beefy man. He keeps his horns shaped and small as too not catch, or else he like his father would get stuck in door frames. His tail does whip back and forth from time to time, but luckily not enough to cause pain or damage.

But we have found great compatability between you! As a roommate Jonathan has been known to be a messy eater and get deep into his studies, causing him to be surrounded by his books and papers on the floor. Don't be disappointed! He does clean after himself! He volunteers often to take over chores for you! Helping with dishes, or taking out trash. He is a very strong man, so expect him to offer his support when vacuuming in the form of lifting furniture.

Jonathan is working currently on his major in archeology and anthropology, and really wants to be a teacher. If you show him any of your writings or share your plans he will be incredibly supportive as he is a big advocate for people following their dreams and doing what they want to do.

His general personality through and through is that of a gentleman. He is engaged and easy to talk to, many claim to feel at easy with the bull man. He may be simple but he is genuine in getting to know you, not wanting to scare you off if you are shy or nervous around him. Of course once you open up, he is a sponge for high energy! He is grounded as a person, but Jonathan likes someone who let's him be playful and not worry about stresses. He also is a 'hobby hopper' to put it in terms. He hasn't found one that he can stick with long, as he feels he can't get the hang of them. Yet when he sees someone else he does feel the need to get into the same hobby for conversion or a mutual interest to talk of.

Johnathan is a supportive and gentle bull. His first instinct is not of romantic intent but as being a genuine friend. When in love, he is still just as supportive but now with romantic flare. Expect now to receive gifts of flowers, cards, or any little thing he sees that makes him think of you. He will always tell you how it is upfront but even when bleak he gives positive advice!

For any other questions please do not hesitate to call or message the match up service! Thank you for participating in the match up!

#matchups #jojo's bizzare adventure #johnathan joestar #jjba x reader #jjba imagines #jjba headcanons #jonathan joestar x reader #jojo x reader #monster event #halloween event #prompt response

[koushisatori]

Anniversary

First of all: If you happen to stumble across this, please cut me some slack and be gentle with me. English is not my mother tongue, and on top of that, I got rusty by procrastinating everything (literally) for the last half-year (*μ_μ) I am apologizing in advance if something is weirdly written.

This is also my first ever piece of fanfiction, so I have to get used to that to :(( So if you got ideas or anything, I’ll gladly try to fulfill your wishes to simultaneously improve my writing.

Hmm, is there anything else? I hope not, and if there is, I’ll add it !! 

tendou x f!reader

genre: small bit of angst, fluff

warnings: none

word count: 2.7k

note: /

__________________________________________________________

usually, your relationship with Tendou is smooth sailing, both of you decided to take the step of moving in together relatively early, exceeding the common couples limit by not only doing this barely a year into your relationship but doing so in a different country far from your family and friends

(both of you learning french together to survive a new life in an absolutely foreign country...however, the first months of grocery shopping were disastrous ) 

you both became a couple in your last year at Shiratorizawa, surprising absolutely....well,...no one, honestly

every person just seeing a moment of your interactions with each other would have guessed that you already were dating

Tendou and you were the embodiment of being disgustingly in love - like people see you and feel  s i n g l e wanting to have what you two obviously found with the other

(SemiSemi, to this day, shudders violently thinking about how he caught you two making out in the storage room a week after Tendou finally confessed to you <3) 

anyway

while Tendou followed his dream of becoming a chocolatier, you began to study - enter: stress

after finishing his required training he got a job at a high-class factory (everything his handmade and super expensive?? You’re just so lucky to be his better half and get to taste his creations for free)

they value his skills and invest in him to become better, but that also means that his time for you shrank even more

you understood that, of course, and it's not like you didn’t spend a lot of your times crouching over books either with being close to receiving your first degree

in general, your fights are stressed-induced, and as quickly forgotten as they came up bc...let’s not beat around the bush, both of you are shit at staying mad at the other, especially if it means cutting short the already sparse time you currently have <3

they’re usually about petty stuff, too

recently though it happens more regularly and they ever so slowly started to border on painful

he stays at work for longer to perfect his already otherworldly skills; and your patience is running thin with all the deadlines and exams putting immense pressure on you

both of you are just so unsatisfied and stressed and...so fucking tired

it’s always forgivable though

you don’t mind planned dinner dates turning into movie nights with him falling asleep on you after what feels like seconds

because he’s there, pressing his face into your side or stomach hard enough for you to wonder if he’s trying to suffocate himself, while his long arms are around your waist holding onto you as if his life depends on it

he doesn’t mind being splayed across your lap watching the latest episodes of his series while you type away on your laptop, even though you were supposed to enjoy a nice weekend lazying in front of the tv with him 

a forgotten date hasn’t killed you yet as well, but the amount of times it was currently happening allowed insecurities to have their way with you

both of you always make up for it one way or another (leaving an apology breakfast or even taking it to bed, buying flowers, sharing the sweet kisses you were supposed to enjoy the night before,...) 

but this time, he didn’t just forget to be on time for any date.

he completely missed your anniversary

you spend the whole afternoon cooking his favorite dish for dinner, making yourself all pretty for him, wearing the jewelry he got you for your birthday, it was some kind of tradition by now

just to be stood up, dinner turning cold and your mood sour

no message, no callback

around 11pm he - finally ! - gets in touch with you 

‘‘(Y/N)!! Bunny, did something happen? Did you miss me so much?’’

you could hear the dopey grin he was wearing while teasing you, one you usually loved, one that was contagious

but it didn’t help the pain and disappointment nesting in your heart, right now

he really didn’t remember

was the date so insignificant to him? were you no longer a priority?

you swallow around the lump in your throat, desperately begging your brain to not amplify your insecurities even more

‘’No...it’s...it’s alright, I just wanted to know when you’re home...’’ your attempt to keep the doubts and pain you experienced that second hidden was pointless, because even on the phone, your boyfriend was able to look right through you

‘‘Bunny what’s wrong?’’ he asks worriedly

normally you’d say that it was alright, that you’d speak later or directly say what was bugging you so terribly

this time...you didn’t feel like talking or maybe even fighting, scared that he might confirm your thoughts and leave you

‘’It’s nothing, Tendou,...’’ you hear him wince, you can’t remember the last time you called him that ’’don’t bother with me if it’s not as important to you.’’ 

‘‘Not as...’’ a moment of silence follows, in which he checked the date and, lastly, Tendou understood ‘’Oh. Oh shit, (Y/N),...Bunny, please, wait for me, please, let me explain...’‘

It’s not the answer you wanted (on the other hand, what answer would that be?)

‘‘I waited...and I’m tired,’‘ you add without thinking, hanging up before he even got the chance to answer

while you don’t want things to end...you can’t help but think ‘what if?’ - that thought alone though is enough for the dams to burst

With a soft groan, you blink your burning eyes open, noticing your spine protesting and pop from the uncomfortable position you fell asleep in. A glance at the alarm clock elicited another tired groan, the 4 on display mocking you. 

The burning and overall sluggish feeling controlling your body immediately reminded you of the things that had taken place. That his scent surrounding you arose solely due to his pillow in which you had pressed your face.

While you obviously weren’t on the best of terms right now, a small part of you was still hopeful and reached out across the bed in search for the warmth your red-haired better half usually provided. Unsurprisingly, your hand met a cold bed half.

An annoyed sigh later, you sat up and rubbed over your eyes angrily. You were hurt, which should be understandable, but remembering his overly happy tone even with evident tiredness underlaying it, you guessed that he didn’t stay behind on purpose and that, maybe, something good had happened. So to say, you as well behaved like an idiot.

Suddenly, you remember the last sentence you said. Realizing what it implied, you felt like banging your head against the wall. You wanted to be understood by him. What you didn’t want was to give Satori the time to allow his anxious tendencies to fester while he was alone, foregoing untrue, negative ideas. The fact that he still wasn’t in bed with you, was proof enough which lead to you cursing out loud.

While your last words towards him told something differently, you surely didn’t want to leave him or him to leave you. Both of you could work things out, you always did, and…well, you always hoped that it would stay that way until you had lived a fulfilling life as a couple, with grey hair and wrinkles taking your last breath together wherever life would lead the two of you.

The simple solution was to communicate like the grown adults you are. 

Determined to talk through it the way you should have done earlier and maybe...just maybe get some cuddles afterward, you swung your legs out from under the blankets. After you quickly put on some warm, worn-out socks, you quietly leave the bedroom and tip-toe through the hallway.

You expected the apartment to be silent, to be dark. What you didn’t expect is the soft light coming from your shared kitchen. Or the clinking noises of bowls and pots colliding lightly, lowly muttered, sleepy curses, and even quieter sniffles interrupting the barrage of words from time to time.

Upon hearing those little sounds - no doubt coming from your anxious boyfriend - your heart clenched painfully in your chest. This is your injudicious doing. Straightening your back, you stepped into the kitchen, slightly squinting against the much harsher ceiling lights assaulting your eyes.

The original plan was to offer a heartfelt apology, and follow it up by an honest declaration of love and the proposal to talk about everything. There were a lot of things that needed to be cleared up between you and Tendou. But after entering the kitchen, you came to an abrupt halt.

Your eyes wandered, lingering on cuts, burns, and blisters that blemished your boyfriends' pretty fingers. Slowly, your gaze continued to move up his arms and shoulders, tensed and screaming out his fear of losing you. For a moment, you hesitated, but you eventually lifted your gaze to meet his wide eyes, as red-rimmed and puffy as yours. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. Normally, you would find it adorable and stretch your hands out to cup his cheeks (not to pull him down, definitely not) and press a kiss to his lips...but right now? You really just felt like crying, seeing your Satori so heartbroken over something you said carelessly in the heat of the moment.

Suddenly wincing, Tendou quickly pulls back his hand to his chest away from the hot stove. Yet, he did not dare to break eye contact with you. Seemingly afraid that what he currently saw is nothing but a sleep-deprivation induced hallucination. That you would just vanish if he so much dared to even think of blinking.

The stupor rooting you to the spot though vanished in favor of closing the gap between the two of you to help him.

‘‘Tori...’‘ you croaked worriedly, eyes flickering down to his hands and back up to his watery, sad eyes. ‘‘I’m so sorry,’’ you whispered. Any louder and your voice might break. ’’...let me take care of you.’‘ 

You turned off the stove before you gently tugged Tendou behind you to the bathroom. Making him sit on the edge of the small tub, you gathered everything you needed to patch him up with rehearsed movements.

For a while, both of you were silent. 

You carefully worked on disinfecting cuts and putting special creams on the different wounds and burns, while not hurting him any further. Concentrating on ignoring the thick tension of untold apologies, and fear. Doubt weighing heavy on the two of you. 

Meanwhile, Tendou couldn't help but admire your features. Your soft hair - faintly smelling like peaches and anis - falling into your face, hiding away your pretty (Y/E/C) eyes. He loved to get lost in them. Or how your tongue poked out between your lips in concentration and the little scrunch of your nose when you thought that you could have done better. 

Even in this hazy state of mind, he knew for certain that he would try to hold onto you for as long as possible. That he would do anything to make you forgive him.

After you finished gently wrapping band-aids (silly ones with colorful patterns just the way you both love) around his fingers, on his palm, and back of his hand, he quickly moved them to hold onto yours.

‘‘Don’t leave me.’‘ Tendou's voice is just above a whisper, and if you wouldn't have been that close to him as you were, you would have missed it. But you could hear him, and your eyes immediately met his, filling with tears all over again.

‘‘Satori, I’m-’‘

‘‘(Y/N), please...please, don’t leave me. I’m so sorry. Of course, I care. Our relationship, you...nothing’s as important to me as you are. It was the only thing keeping me sane that last week. I don't know why I forgot about it. I truly feel horrible.'' he started. ''Please, believe me. I love you so, so much. I...I can’t imagine a life without you. I don’t want to.’’ Even with his voice quivering, it was crystal clear just how serious his words were to him. 

He needed to get it out in the open. There was no way in hell that he would allow any doubts about your relationship to fester in your mind.

‘’I was held back to talk about the upcoming Christmas preparations that I’m supposed to be leading this year, and then I was called into the boss’ office and I couldn’t check my phone,’‘ the desperation to explain still evident, Tendou resorted to rambling about the happenings of the day.

‘‘I’m sorry for hurting you, but Bunny, I beg you...I know that we haven't had enough time those last weeks, that we didn't have any if we’re honest. I understand that you must feel neglected. I will change that, give me a chance to make you forgive me, please.’‘ 

It wasn’t like you wanted to cry again, but the tears rolling down your cheeks seemed to have a mind on their own. ‘’ ‘Tori...’’ you sniffled, your voice breaking away at the last syllable. ‘’Can I hug you?’’  

The relief on his face spoke volumes, and before you even got the chance to make good on your words, he already stands tall in front of you, enveloping you tightly.

Securely wrapped up in Satoris’ arms, you feel like coming home after months away. Or like taking in the first gasp of fresh air after holding your breath underwater for too long. With Tendou holding onto you like this, you found the strength to answer.

''I'm sorry, too...I love you so much, and...I know you always have a reason, and it was childish to hang up on you and leave you worrying alone instead of talking to you. And...if you neglected me those last weeks, then I did the same. We both were too busy for each other...'' 

After a short pause, you ask: ''B-but we can work it out, right?’’ Slowly, you looked up to him. ‘’I want to spend my life with you, Satori. Don’t listen to dumb me 5 hours earlier. 5-hours-ago-me was so stupid, and petty, and does not reflect my true wishes,��’ you added. ’’No one of our old friends wanted to put up with me the last week because I’m so head over heels in love with you and all I do is tell them ‘’You should have seen what Tori did for me’’ and what I plan to do for you...I can feel them roll their eyes from the other side of the world!’’

Suddenly aware of your very honest words, you pushed your face against his chest to hide your burning cheeks. Embarrassment painting them in a pretty hue of pink. 

Tendou hadn't realized that he had actually held his breath listening to your words until he chuckled a bit breathlessly. The remaining tension possessing both of your bodies faded away after that, allowing you to relish in the feeling of having the other in your arms again.

After a while, you bravely gazed up at him again, even with your cheeks still set ablaze. ''Come to bed?'' And with a sweet smile, one that reached his eyes and made your heart stutter, he nodded. 

Things between the two of you weren't ideal quite yet, Tendou kknew that much. But they would be. Tomorrow would be a new day. You would hopefully agree to celebrate your anniversary a day later. He hoped, that you would agree to spend it with him from the first second you woke up to the very last before you fell asleep. You will hopefully enjoy the news that his promotion was topped with holidays that allowed you to spend Christmas and New Year's Eve with your families in Japan.

He also hoped for you to say yes when, surrounded by your friends, he would ask you to marry him under the Cherry Blossoms in spring.

Things weren't quite ideal, but watching your peaceful expression while sleeping on his chest, he knew, all the up and downs were worth powering through. He would embrace every hardship if that meant keeping you by his side forever.

#Haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #is this a headcanon? idk but I'll tag it like that for now until I know better #haikyuu headcanons #Shiratorizawa x reader #Tendou x reader #Haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios

[joheun-saram]

To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 03

Chapter 3 - Coincidences

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Summary- Do their dates ever go according to plan? Well, who knew watching George Clooney was such an aphrodisiac. 

word count- 6.2k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, slow burn, fluff, smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- unwanted sexual advances (don’t worry, it’s not namjoon and it’s not overly discussed), alcohol consumption, oral sex (f. receiving), hickeys, dry humping, sex

a.n- okay so I wrote my first smut scene. AAAAH. I’m sorry if it’s not the best - I tried and realized I don’t know how to get into a guys headspace during sex lmfao 🙃  Namjoon is also a high-key cheeseball and God of Destruction strikes. I’m sorry but I had to - his face when he breaks things makes me simultaneously laugh and uwu.

Also, in case you missed it I have a lot of feelings about Batman having a credit card. Batman and Robin is an absurd movie but I still love it.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut​, @rjsmochii​, @jinjccns​

-

You were greeted by Siwon and a coffee as you walked to the elevator of your office building yawning furiously, uncharacteristically dressed in a navy pantsuit with a white turtleneck in anticipation of your big meeting today. To say you were nervous would be an understatement. You were meeting one of the big tech companies’ senior VP and your deal hinged on his approval. You were not looking forward to it - he was a certified creep. 

“Alright so your meetings in about four hours, we can finish the proposal in about two and then we can prep for the next two.” Siwon was in full assistant mode, rattling off details to add to the proposal that unbeknownst to him you had already finished last night.

“Proposal’s done so let’s skip to the prep,” you say as you step out of the elevator to your floor.

“Did you stay late? Yah Y/N! You know you can’t overwork like that! Also, this building is so creepy at night. Don’t tell me you stayed here alone.” He scolded you, effortlessly switching from employee to friend. You loved that he cared so much about you.

“I’m sorry, but if it makes you feel better - I wasn’t alone.” As you make your way to your desk you notice the kitchen filled with pink pastry boxes. “What’s all that?” you questioned as you forego your desk making a beeline for the kitchen, having skipped breakfast that morning for a much needed hour of sleep.

“What do you mean you weren’t alone?” Siwon was looking at you suspiciously with his eyebrow quirked. When you reached the boxes you noticed that they were filled with all sorts of breakfast goodies, from croissants to danishes to doughnuts. Your mouth watered as you grabbed a buttery croissant, anticipating the taste before it even made it on your plate.

“Y/N! Someone sent them over this morning with this note.” Timothy, your head of curriculum, handed you a pink envelope that matched the boxes. Placing your breakfast on the table you opened the note, hoping it wasn’t a client because that meant you would have to send something to them and would get caught in one of those one-upping gifting circlejerks. Arguably the worst part of corporate life.

Good luck on your meeting today. I’m rooting for you!

-N

PS: this is also your reminder to drink water - stay hydrated! ;)

Your mouth flew open as you reread the note, a grin slowly spreading on your face. As Siwon read over your shoulder, he gasped loudly. Luckily no one else was within earshot or else they would notice you not so gently elbow your assistant and call HR.

“Oh my god… Is this from who I think it’s from?” He sputtered, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Was he the one keeping you company last night?”

“What? NO!” You giggled nervously as he playfully smacked your arm. “Maybe…” you whispered, shrugging, giving in to his charms.

“Is this why you are wearing a turtleneck? Did he rock your world? Did he bangtan that sonyeondan?” 

“Shut up please!” You hissed at Siwon. You really wished you had a closed office now as you walked to your desk and grabbed your laptop, going into one of the meeting rooms that hopefully no one else booked that morning.

“So spill.” Siwon said as he settled into the chair next to you on the long stained oak table.

“There’s nothing to spill. We worked together and had pizza. And before you ask, no we did not have sex. It was our first date!” You huffed as you started your laptop.

“What did you do to him?” He asked in awe.

“Excuse me?” You were getting irritated now. To insinuate that you did something to him was pretty callous of Siwon. It reminded you of the times in university when your best friend dropped you because her crush told her that he liked you instead of her. You had no intentions of liking that guy, he was honestly not your type, too lazy and self-entitled to ever catch your attention, but she did not hesitate in cutting all ties and insisting you moved out of your shared apartment. According to her, you seduced him with your looks and personality. Pfft. As if life were so easy that you could manipulate whoever you liked into liking you back. However, Siwon was unaware of this incident so you decided to calm your annoyance a little.

“Sorry. I mean he’s sending the whole office breakfast after a first date. He must really like you.” He caught on to your tone and corrected himself. He was good at catching your tonal nuances by now, and you were grateful.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get annoyed.” You sighed, smiling forcefully, as you pulled up the proposal you worked on earlier that morning. “I really like him too.” You admitted. It kind of felt nice to share that with someone. Usually you would pick up your phone the moment you felt a date go right and tell Jiyoung right away, but knowing what a huge fan she was you wanted to feel out the situation more before she got too excited.

While relaying the events of last night to a very excited Siwon, you texted Namjoon.

Y/N: Wow. Breakfast for the whole office? Big moves.

Namjoon: Well I am trying to woo the CEO. Gotta bring in the big guns!

Y/N: And you think you can woo me with baked goods?

Namjoon: That depends…

Namjoon: Is it working?

Y/N: Yes. Yes it is...

Y/N: Thank you btw. This was really sweet!

Namjoon: Then everything is going according to plan :)

Y/N: I’m excited for tonight

Namjoon: Me too! I miss you!

Y/N: Joon you saw me like eight hours ago!

Namjoon: Eight hours too long!

Y/N: Omg! Stop! You’re so cheesy...

Namjoon: Never!

You walked into the conference room with Harry and Siwon twenty minutes before noon and the three of you started setting up, nerves on high alert. You wrung your hands as you rearranged the printouts on the table for the sixth time, before Harry pulled you into a hug.

“You got this bub! We’re gonna kill it and then celebrate and blow all the money from this deal.” You laughed as your nerves melted. This was the reason he was your best friend and partner in crime. You got out of the embrace, infinitely more calm as you settled in your seat at the end of the table. 

Soon, your client, Mr Li, arrived with two other people from his team. The presentation went smoothly if you were to ignore the fact that every time you glanced at Li his eyes seemed to be fixated on your chest. His team, however, was much less sleazy. After you finished presenting, you and Harry spent about an hour answering their questions and concerns before negotiating another lucrative contract for your company. With this deal done, you will be able to meet your company’s quarterly goals. 

As soon as the meeting ended, Li’s team, now joined by their legal team, that arrived a few minutes before the end, was escorted to your legal floor to sort out the details of the contract.

“So this is a cause for celebration!” Li booms loudly as he shakes Harry’s hand, before pulling you into an unwanted hug. The hug was extremely tight as you felt your chest being squished by his, knocking the air out of you. You awkwardly try to escape, confused by his less than professional behaviour, eyes widened and staring at Harry. “We should all get some drinks in a few weeks to truly seal the deal.”

“Yes, we will definitely set up something with our assistants. I’m not sure if Y/N will be able to join because of her hectic schedule, but I will definitely be there.” Harry swiftly stepped in to shake Li’s hand one more time, subtly but clearly giving you an out. You were immensely relieved till you heard Li’s next words.

“It’s no party without the CEO. I bet she’s a real firecracker with a few drinks in her!” He laughed full-bellied, elbowing an uncomfortably stunned Harry as you gave him a tight lipped smile.

“Of course. We’ll set something up soon, Mr Li. Now if you excuse me I have another meeting to attend. We’re very excited to work with you!” You forced a fake smile as you exited the cringe-inducing situation. You grabbed some water when you reached your desk, drinking it to get the nasty taste of the situation out of your head. Sometimes you truly hated having to plaster a smile to appease clients, but unfortunately it was part of the job.

Your mood lightened significantly as your phone buzzed, instantly forgetting about the creepy old man. You picked up to hear Namjoon’s baritone voice greeting you as you ducked into a small meeting room, locking the door and settling on the comfy couch at the end.

“How did it go?” He seemed a bit out of breath.

“Nailed it! Although the guy was a certified creep.”

“Oh I’m sorry for that. What happened?” Genuine concern laced his tone.

“He just didn’t have any concerns for personal space” you sighed but your heart warmed at his worry for you. “Why are you out of breath?”

“That sucks! I just got done with dance practice.” He quickly picked up on your hesitance to go into further detail. “I haven’t danced this intensely in a while!”

“Oh! I would love to see you dance!” You giggled.

“Trust me I’m not good. It is not worth it.”

“I don’t believe you. I guess I’ll have to see it to judge for myself.”

“Hmm… maybe. Fair warning, there are literal twitter pages dedicated to my terrible moves.”

“Well then those people are assholes. I bet they’re jealous because you are an amazing dancer.” 

_________________________________

Namjoon hung up the call and stared at the call log on his phone, displaying that he had been on the phone with you for over thirty five minutes. It felt like it had been barely two. He didn’t know why talking to you improved his mood this much, but just hearing your voice was enough to make him forget the stress from messing up the choreography almost every run though this morning, and especially Hoseok’s disappointing face as he tried and failed to correct his moves.

Getting back to the big mirrored room, he decided to go through the steps again alone to really nail down the routine, his head full of your plans later this evening. Initially, he had planned a romantic dinner to a high end restaurant in Gangnam but after his manager’s email this morning that he might be being followed, you both had decided on a quiet evening at your apartment. You had insisted it would be safer this way since the suspected stalker would not know where he was going, but he still felt a little uncomfortable about possibly putting your home in danger. He remembered when Yoongi had a stalker three years ago and they all had to pretty much be holed together in the dorms to ensure their safety. Luckily, they were smarter now with a much larger budget for security so these incidents barely encroached on their everyday activities. Still, this was the first time he was seeing someone while dealing with this and that made him wary.

After practicing for another couple of hours, Namjoon headed back home before getting ready for the evening. The closer the clock ticked towards 7, the more nervous he seemed to get. He had butterflies in his stomach as he styled his hair for the fifth time. Giving up, he grabbed the small bouquet of sunflowers he had prepared for the evening and headed towards the car waiting to pick him up downstairs.

As much as he had talked to you over the last few days, the pressure of this being a real date made him want to make a good impression. He was disappointed that he couldn’t wow you with a gourmet meal and even though he was confident that you enjoyed his company, the fact that you would basically be forced to stay with him if you wanted to leave tonight made him uneasy. 

Fidgeting with the collar of his black t-shirt, he braced himself as he knocked on your door. You took his breath away when you opened the door, dressed in a beautiful red sundress that hugged all your curves perfectly. You smiled widely at him as you greeted him. Your pink dusted cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled as you saw him, made all his earlier worries disappear. His heart sang as you excitedly took the bouquet, sniffing the flowers before busying yourself and looking for a jar to place them in. He was glad he went through the effort of buying them. Well, the effort of bribing one of the staff with lunch for them.

“How did you know these are my favourite flowers?” You sounded shocked.

“I saw them everywhere at the gala, so I figured even if they weren’t your favourites you at least liked them.” He smiled widely, internally celebrating going for those over Jin’s suggestion of the typical roses. He watched as you carefully snapped the stems of the flowers and placed them in the jar a little too small to contain all the flowers. He couldn’t help but think how stunning you looked biting your lip concentrating while arranging the flowers, taking care not to break off any leaves.

Your apartment reflected your personality it seemed. The kitchen was attached to the large living room, separated by a large island that you were working on. The living room had a large comfortable yellow couch with a few fuzzy blankets and white pillows, facing a television on the wall surrounded by framed posters of music festivals, which he gathered from the dates were ones you attended. He also noticed a vintage looking record player next to the opposite wall with a shelf full of books and records, arranged in seemingly no order; the books differing in lengths with random records popped between them. Everything was extremely clean but he could make out some clutter like a pair of keys attached to an Apeach keychain next to the window, and a pair of sunglasses that were precariously hanging off the edge of a small table in the corner. He felt that he was looking inside your brain a little, and it made him extremely grateful that you had deemed him worthy enough to invite him over. He didn’t know if that was something you were comfortable enough doing with everyone you met or dated, or if inviting him to your apartment was an anomaly, and he’d be lying if he didn’t hope it was the latter. The thought that he was getting special treatment made him giddy.

After arranging your flowers, you made your way to Namjoon, and he felt your arms around his waist as you wrapped him a hug. 

“Thank you” you whispered into his chest and even this small gesture made him blush.

“I just wanted to cheer you up after that shitty meeting.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He could feel you smile into his chest, something that was confirmed when you separated after a few seconds and made your way to the couch. He missed your warmth already.

“Honestly, just talking to you after it cheered me up.” He sat next to you on the couch as you poured two glasses of white wine, handing him one. “I know we just talked but how was the rest of your day?”

You both shared news about the rest of your days with each other while waiting for dinner to arrive. The conversation was easy and fluid, easily shifting from mundane everyday events to anecdotes about your friends while you ate your pastas and finished the bottle of wine. He appreciated that unlike other people he had dated you didn’t seem surprised that he had friends outside the band and that most of his stories revolved around them rather than BTS. He always felt that so much of his friendship with the guys was broadcasted that he’d be retelling something that people had already watched so to the disappointment of a lot of his dates, he shared more about his other friends. Like how last year he went on a trip to Paris with childhood friends and got kicked out of the Louvre because they accidentally almost knocked down an exhibit. Or when one of his friends got so unbelievably drunk he had to bribe him with actual money to ensure he didn’t sleep in the park. He enjoyed hearing your university tales too, laughing out loud when you recounted the time you had drunkenly won a debate with one of your friends on which Batman was the best, resulting in the said friend to streak around the neighbourhood.

“Wait so you’re telling me if you lost, you would have to streak instead?” His eyes were wide as he looked at you. He had not expected you to have this wild side. He was intrigued, if not slightly turned on by the idea that this side might show up later.

“I would. I never break a promise.” You looked smug as you smiled over your wine glass. “But if I’m being honest, I knew I would win. Who thinks Clooney is the best Batman? He had a bat credit card for crying out loud!” He smiled as you ranted about how Batman would even apply for a credit card and the unlikelihood of him having a social security number without giving away his identity. Sure, Namjoon had never seen this particular Batman movie, or any to be fair, but the way you passionately discussed the superhero was so endearing to him that he couldn’t help nodding along enthusiastically at each point you made, giggling as he did so.

“Okay. I have not seen that movie, but that sounds hilarious.” He commented as he finished the last of the wine in his glass.

“What? It is a cinematic meme masterpiece! We have to watch it!”

_________________________________

That’s how you ended up watching Batman and Robin, a second bottle of wine open on the coffee table. You hadn’t imagined that’s how you’ll be spending the next few hours with Namjoon. In fact, you did not want to impose your nerdy views on him at all, but tipsy you had other ideas. He seemed to be enjoying the movie too, laughing justly at the bat nipples and stupid ice puns. However with each corny flirt Poison Ivy threw at one of the many men on screen, you couldn’t help but notice how closely you were sitting next to a man hotter than any on your television. He had his arm around your shoulders and your head rested slightly on his chest, engulfed in his woodsy scent. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him, resisting the urge to reach up and kiss his jaw where it rested on his hand.

You had wanted to kiss him the moment he walked in the door with flowers in hand. No date had ever brought you flowers before and it set your heart aflutter. If he was any more perfect, you’d be worried you had imagined him and that you’d wake up from a very long, very surreal dream. The next time you glanced up at him you found him looking at you, a soft smile on his face, his dimples looking extra cute as he looked into your eyes.

Feeling uncharacteristically bashful, you smiled back at him, willing yourself not to avert his gaze. “Hi,” you muttered.

“Hi” His deep voice reverberated through your body and before you could tell your heart to stop thudding at your chest, Namjoon closed the space between you. His lips were slightly chapped as he brushed them against yours gently -  unrushed and soft. He took his time, his lips dancing around yours as if in a practiced waltz, as he moved his hand to your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbones. Before you could deepen the kiss, you separated, much to your disappointment and he went back to watching the movie.

“Oh look! It’s the credit card scene.” He said nonchalantly as if he had not just taken your breath away.

“Joon! This movie is stupid,” you whined as you reached for his face, but before you could reach it he grabbed your wrist.

“But it’s a cinematic meme masterpiece!” He teased you with your earlier comment, his eyes lit with mirth. 

You pouted in defiance. “You can’t just kiss me like this and expect me to go back to watching the movie.”

“Aww! Cute!” He cooed as you huff, but before you could protest further, he kissed you again. Unlike the first time, this kiss was fierce, sparking a need in you. His lips pressed firmly against yours as his arm moved from around you to maneuver you on top of his lap. He did not hold back as he kissed you with a yearning you felt pulsate through you. He coaxed his way into your mouth as you didn't hesitate for a second, your hands running through the hair at the nape of his neck.

His hands were on your hips and as he pulled you closer you couldn’t help but roll your hips on him, feeling him hardening under you, a moan escaping from your mouth into his. Your dress was almost pulled to your waist and the rough material of his jeans felt delicious against your lace panties. You couldn’t help but roll your hips again, wanting him much closer than he already was.

“Baby you can’t do that to me.” He whined, his voice heavy with desire, as he started placing kisses down your face to your neck.

“Why not?” Your eyes spoke of challenge as you once again grind on him, a light moan escaping your lips, teasingly.

He stops kissing you as he looks up at you sternly, his jaw jutting out slightly. “Because I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

“Fuck that. Let’s be b-” 

Before you can finish your sentence, he is spinning you around to lay you on the couch, hovering above you, your legs on either side of his body. Your head is caged between his arms, your dress barely covering your panties, as he smirks at you before rocking his hip against you, eliciting a loud gasp from you.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he kisses your neck, softly biting in a way that you’re sure there will be marks tomorrow, before soothing it with his tongue.

“Yes” you whisper as you reach down to palm him over his pants, making him groan where he’s kissing behind your ear.

“Fuck… Can I take this off?” His hand is on the zipper of your dress and as soon as you nod, he is pulling it down, increasing his force when it gets caught. Suddenly he stops, his eyes wide with alarm. Leaning up slightly you follow his gaze to his hand where he holds your zipper, no longer attached to the dress. He looks like a kid that broke an expensive vase in a store and you can’t help but laugh.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” The more he apologizes, the more you laugh at the situation, tears filling up your eyes. How could he be sexily growling in your ear one moment, making you drench your panties, and be this adorably guilty looking the next? Pushing him off you stand up and coax the rest of the zip down, letting the dress pool at your feet, as you grab his hand, urging him to stand up.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” You lead him across the hall to your bedroom, and he quickly recovers from his blunder, wrapping himself behind you as he continues to kiss your neck and face.

“I’ll buy you a new dress! Sorry!” He says as you sit down at the end of your bed.

“Joonie, stop apologizing and fuck me.” You pull at his shirt, and thankfully he gets the hint, smoothly taking it off and throwing it beside you with a quick “Yes, ma'am.” You are mesmerized by his body, as you trace your hands up to his toned chest, thanking the god you didn’t believe in for this moment. Smirking at your adoration, he kisses you again, pushing you to lie down with his arm around your waist as he pushes you further up the bed till your head hits the pillows.

He continues kissing you as you run your hands over his chest and back, wanting to consume all of him. “Mmm, you’re so beautiful.” He moans as he kisses down your neck to your chest, rubbing himself on you, his fingers lingering at the waistband of your panties. He looks to you for consent and seeing your enthusiastic nod, he pulls them down, groaning at your arousal that liberally coats them.

“Baby, you’re so wet.” He whispers, amazed as if you had any other choice considering his earlier teasing. He kisses your lips again as his fingers slide against your lips teasingly, making you rut your hips against his hand in an effort to feel him inside.

“Joonie, please. Stop teasing” You whine against his lips, and thankfully he does, pushing one finger inside, making you cry out as you tip your head back against the pillows. Taking advantage of your angled head he presses his lips to your neck, leaving another hickey as one finger becomes two, deliciously stretching you and making you clench against him. Your head is cloudy with endorphins as he curls his fingers expertly thrusting in you, filling the room with your wanton moans. He kisses up to your ear, nibbling a little at your lobe.

“I want to taste you.” His voice is heavy with want and it sends a shiver up your spine. You clench around his fingers in anticipation as he kisses down your body, pulling your bra cups down to pay extra attention to your hardened nipples. His bangs brush against your skin raising goosebumps as he places multiple small pecks on your soft belly before reaching his destination.

“Look here, baby.” He says and as soon as you make eye contact, he pulls out his fingers, placing them in his mouth sucking on them with a groan, making heat rise up your neck. “You’re fucking delicious.”

Your heart is about to explode out of your chest and you can’t help but squirm but he holds your legs apart, slowly kissing each inner thigh as he takes his time. He really has a knack for teasing, and you wouldn’t complain if not for the aching between your legs. You’re desperate for him.

Finally, he lays on his stomach, his long legs dangling off the bed, as he holds your gaze, grinning, before giving you a long lick, making you shudder. He moans into you as he continues his long licks, your fingers making their way to his hair.

He focuses his attention on your clit, sucking and increasing his speed. No one has eaten you out like this. You remember after drinks with your friends claiming that it sucked that you were straight because guys always suck at eating pussy. Oh how wrong you were, you thought as Namjoon added his fingers back into the mix, thrusting as his tongue lapped at your clit, making you see stars. You could feel the familiar heat in your core as you tugged his hair, making him groan, a chant of his name on your lips as you feel yourself becoming undone. Your toes curl into the comforter below you as your legs shake screaming his name. He coaxes you though your orgasm, slowing his thrusts and licking you clean as you come down. When you could feel the overstimulation, you called his name, lightly stroking his hair. You kind of felt bad for pulling on it that tightly earlier.

He wiped his face as he came up towards you, smiling triumphantly. He kissed you and you could taste yourself on his lips. 

“You did so well for me, baby.” You had never been praised for orgasming and although you had just cum you felt yourself getting wet all over again. You kissed him again, reaching to undo his jeans and struggling.

“Are you sure? We can stop here if you want.” Namjoon says against your lips.

“Shut up and get naked, Joon” you huff against his lips as he chuckles, flipping on his back next to you to undo his pants and pulling them off along with his boxers. You bite your lip as you see his cock emerge, bouncing against his stomach, his head dripping precum. Your mouth waters as you undo your bra, tossing it to the side, before reaching for his generous length. He hisses as your thumb runs over the tip, and you use the precum to stroke him slowly.

Suddenly, he grabs your wrist, stopping your exploration. “I’m going to cum if you don’t stop.”

You peck his lips as he lets go, turning around and reaching out for the condoms in your bedside drawer. Ripping the packet open, you pinch the tip, smirking as you place it in your mouth, enjoying the way his eyes widen in surprise as you stroke him twice before using your lips to encase his length in latex. 

“Holy fuck. You’re perfect.” He grabs your face as soon as you’re done and kisses you fiercely as he once again lays you under him. His length rubs against your clit, sending jolts of pleasures up your spine as you rut your hips upwards. Getting the hint, he grabs his cock and lines it to your entrance. Your insides flutter as you feel him run his tip between your folds collecting your arousal, making you mewl a weak “please”. His face is flushed and his eyes are dark as he guides himself in smoothly, both of you moaning at the pleasure. The stretch is unbelievable, and you close your eyes as the sensation.

He waits a beat for you to accommodate him and as soon as you nod, he pulls back to thrust in again. Slowly he builds up to a rhythm that has you both panting. The room is full of the sounds of your bodies colliding and heavy breaths. You open your eyes to see him with his tongue between his lips and his jaw clenched. The same look of concentration he had when he was writing his songs in your office last night, and you felt yourself clench around him in pleasure. He moaned lowly and it was like you could feel his voice travel through you.

“Oh my god, Joon!” you cried as he changed his angle, hitting your g-spot directly, and increased his speed, thrusting harder.

“I got you, baby. I got you.” He reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers, pressing his forehead against yours, pressing kisses against your cheeks. You could feel yourself getting close again as he continued his pace, and by the way his grip on your hand tightened you could tell he was getting there too. You wrapped your legs around him as he started to get sloppier, getting lost in chasing pleasure.

“Cum for me baby, please.” He pleaded as his fingers reached between you to tease your clit, shooting waves of pleasure through you. He sucked on your neck and the sensation was too much. You feel yourself tighten around him and he groans as the tension building in your stomach snaps, making you cum hard around him, his name on your tongue as your fingers dig into his back.

He fucks you through your orgasm, hard and fast, before cumming himself with a loud groan and collapsing on you. Your bodies panting in unison as you both try to catch your breath. You’re both still holding hands, as he sweetly kisses your cheek, before pulling himself off of you, discarding the condom in the trash can, and laying back next to you. After you both calm down, he speaks staring at the ceiling.

“Do you have cameras in here?”

“What?” You are confused as you turn to look at him.

“Wouldn’t wanna make a sex tape on our second date.” He laughs, turning on his side and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Oh my god. I hate you.” You playfully swat at his chest.

“Nah, you like me.” He grins, kissing the tip of your nose as you roll your eyes. “But it’s okay because I really like you too.”

“You are so cheesy!” you groan, but your face flushes at his words, your heart dancing in your chest. “I’m going to pee.”

“No, stay.” He whines pulling you close to his chest. You oblige him for all of two minutes, before grabbing his shirt from the end of the bed, putting it on, grabbing a fresh pair of panties, and making your way to the ensuite.

When you return you find him still on your bed, albeit in his boxers now, lying amongst your many pillows with his hands behind his head. Hearing your footsteps, he turns to you and smiles, reaching his hand out to pull you in with him. Cuddling you into his chest, he pulls the comforter over the two of you.

“You’re staying?” You hadn’t expected him to stay and you felt your heart warm at the way he did not rush to leave after sex. You knew he wasn’t the kind of person to just be in it for the sex, but it was your second date so you had kept your expectations low.

“Do you not want me to?” He asks with a pout, stiffening, and you could hear how fast his heart was beating.

“Please stay.” You snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, as you felt him relax and kiss the top of your head. “Want to see something cool?”

He hummed as you asked your google home to show you the sky. It was a dumb impulse purchase you made after a week of late nights of work at home and you hadn’t had the opportunity to show it off yet. You watched his mouth open in awe as the connected device turned off all the lights in your room and projected the milky way on to your ceiling. You chuckled at his child-like reaction. After talking to him this much, you were kind of sure that this would be how he’d act. You were pretty similar and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same reaction when you first saw the constellations on your ceiling. He was quiet for a while, taking in the view and the only way you knew he was awake was by the way his hand softly caressed your hair.

“Hey Y/N. Do you ever think how crazy it is that we met?” His voice was almost a whisper as he turned on his side to look at you. Turning to face him, you placed your hand on his cheek as he continued. “Like you would have to make a company at the perfect time, get your contract with Samsung, decide to move to Korea, convince my boss to sign with you, and then throw that gala, and at the same time I would have to decide to be a rapper, sign to this company, make it big at the right time, come across your non-profit at the right time, and successfully convince Bang PD to let us go to your event. Isn’t that crazy how all those little decisions led to this?”

You were stunned. You had never thought about it that way. How everyone you met was by such a coincidence, how you met Joon was such a coincidence. The way he phrased it made it seem like fate. Maybe it was.

“You forgot about the part where I almost didn’t let you come to the gala.” You joked. You knew he was being serious, but your internal defense mechanisms were in full gear. You didn’t know why you were making light of his beautiful statement, but you felt if you didn’t, you’d fall for him even further and you weren't ready for that.

“What do you mean?” He chuckled, his hand rubbing circles into your waist.

“Your team asked me four hours before the gala that you were coming.” He snorted at your response. “You’re lucky Jiyoung is a fan.”

“Well, then I’ll send a thank you card to her.” He gazed at you adoringly as he pulled you closer. “You know I wasn’t joking earlier… I really like you.”

“I really like you too, Joon.” you whispered as he captured your lips into a kiss. You both continued discussing the coincidences that had to align for you to meet, stealing kisses as you drift off to sleep. 

Wrapped up in his arms, with the twinkling stars on your ceiling, it was the best sleep you had had in a long while.

____________________

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#bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts rm scenario #bts scenarios #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #bts rm #bts namjoon #rm x reader #rm smut

[ushioink]

(Part 1 of Careful,)

The world’s a little quiet today, or maybe she thinks this way because the AC is on full mode. Her earphones are pressed on her ears, and her fingers are running over the laptop keyboard in light speed. Everything she’s doing is an example of tranquility. She’s trapped in this sphere of solitude, and she loves it. The library is entirely empty, too, considering it’s early in the morning for torture. But whatever, she likes when things are clear and monotonous.

Of course, every good thing is bound to the burden of decomposition, and so her quiet is disturbed. At first, it’s just a body that’s hovering over her table. A large body. Enough to darken her desk and wide enough to block the cool air of the AC gushing over her. She’s intending to ignore it, but she’s not exactly good at that. So she takes off her earphone and pauses her monstrous clicking. She looks up, glare taking place over the dead shapes of her bitch face, ready to confront the person stripping her of her cocoon. Only, she doesn’t see a stranger.

It’s a man, and she’s not familiar with men - usually she’s just a virgin in all aspects of the opposite sex - but he’s not a face well forgotten. He’s one of the dudes that people whispered about in the hallways, and even her, an antisocial not-give-a-shit girl has heard about him. She’s a bit mortified about his sudden station over her table, but she forgets about her curiosity to resume her glaring. He winces a little because of her harsh glaring, especially when she pulls her earphones so she can hear the sound of her eyes going absolutely still in the dangerous motion. Besides him stands another man, a taller one, and he, too, sparks recognition in her well-organized mind. But she doesn’t give this other man attention; she only looks at the shorter guy.

“I have a proposition.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady. She’s a little - a lot - annoyed about his demanding tone, as if he’s used to dropping requests that take no for an answer. So, she scoffs.

“No.”

His eyes, which were narrowed down in a way to intimidate her (as if) widen a little, and he splutter. “You didn’t even hear what I have to say!”

“Don’t care, still no.” She returns back to her speedy typing, just to have something to do and to irritate the guy. God knows how well-versed she is in the effects of ignorance. She hopes he too, is immensely annoyed by it.

His narrowed eyes go a little wide, before he narrows them again. He looks down at the unoccupied chair across her chair, then at her, who’s still pretending to be immersed in her ridiculous writing, before pulling the chair out from under the table and plopping his pretty little butt over it. She doesn’t give him the attention he desires, not even when he releases a big sigh of relief. She keeps on clicking on her keyboard, completely unbothered. This makes him annoyed for some reason. No other female has ignored him like that when he graced them with his pretty, dark presence, and no other person has taken it so far to pretend he doesn’t exist, either. He’s damn well-aware of what he does to people, both genders, whatnot with his beautiful kohl-ridden eyes, his thin, pink lips that perfectly curl into a pout that’s deadly, and his killer body. What’s wrong with this woman? He actually came here by the stupid, stupid convincing tactics of his friend to beg for help, and he’s being swiped off like dirt? Ridiculous!

He curls a fist over his mouth like a fake posh man and clears his throat, making her look at him with her deadly, iridescent eyes. “What if I offered you ten thousand dollars for catching a mice trap in the Dark Dungeons?”

The Dark Dungeons is a place in the university’s library where everyone just pretends doesn’t exist for some reason - probably because of all the boring past researchers of the graduated students stacked there - and ultimately ended up being deserted. A lot of students are scared to venter there alone, recapping fake tales about pale ghosts and demons that are there to hunt them. She’s not afraid of such stupidity.

“Okay,” she shrugs casually, pausing in her rapid typing and closing her laptop. The student blinks at the quick gesture. “Pay it in cash?”

He’s dumbfounded; of course he is. He hadn’t anticipated his dumb proposition (which isn’t even real) to be met with such ease. He continues to blink, “But you just said no.”

She shrugs again, crossing her fingers over her laptop like a CEO waiting for a colleague’s destruction. The fist he’s holding against his mouth is put down on the desk. He wipes his expression clear of his flabbergast. She doesn’t allow him to say anything, though. “It depends on the proposition, really, and my capabilities in doing it. I can catch a mice trap in the presumptuous Dark Dungeons, and I will agree on it for ten thousand dollars. This is, knowing you, the only good offer you’ll be willing to give. I don’t want to hear the rest, because I know the rest, and I refuse the rest beforehand.”

“So you know who I am?” He sounds delightfully surprised. It’s the only thing he caught from her monologue, the fact she knows who he is despite only discovering about her recently.

She gives him a look as if he’s an idiot. Then, she returns to her work and opens the laptop. His cheeks flush at that look, still surprised that she’s not even remotely affected by him. He finally gives his companion, a tall guy who casually slipped on the seat beside him and practically occupying the entire space with his large body, a helpless look; and his friend merely shrugs disinterestedly.

“Hey,” he changes tactics by knocking on her desk with his knuckles, his eyebrows slightly growing narrowed as he frowns.

The man’s a little bit upturned by the mischievous twinkle that goes on like a bell on her eyes as she ignores him, a spark that would have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been sitting close to her. But it’s strange nevertheless to see her, a woman so poised, a woman full of confidence and empathy, show such molecular emotion. Mind blowing

“Look at me. Hey!”

She looks up at him, the twinkle shifting into deep, rooted annoyance. “Yes? Is there anything of significance that you want to tell aside offering a proposition to a complete stranger?”

He’s dumbfounded yet again. “Is that a way to talk to someone? What a potty mouth you have! Do you use it to kiss people?”

She’s the one dumbfounded now, fooled at her own game of ignorance. “Excu.. excuse me! Potty mouth! Me? I’m a polite person, thank you very much. I’m just in tune with reciprocation at the moment.”

He sounds extremely frustrated when he says, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

The companion of the rotten boy clears his throat before she can retaliate, and she gives him her attention for the first time since he sat himself next to his friend. His face is long and droopy, lazy, and his eyes are squinted as if he’s trying to make sense of her tiny figure sitting across. When he speaks, his voice is husky. “Yah, don’t yell. We’re in a library.”

They glare at him, their eyes holding icicles. He huffs. “The last time I’ve been here, the librarian kicked me out for knocking one of his shelves. If he knows that I’m here again, which he will by your loud voices, I’m going to be staked. I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve seen a lot of vampire movies. Staking seems really hurtful.”

They shoot him disbelieved eyes. He puts a hand over his chest. “I have a sensitive heart. A wooden stake will make my delicate organ scar. That’s not good on my resumé.”

The first guy gapes at his friend, whereas she shakes her head in disappointment of being a part of this conversation. She goes back to her work while poking her tongue on the insides of her cheek, trying to restrain her growing fury.

“What?” The tall companion looks at his friend weirdly, “You haven’t seen the resumés I’ve seen online. They have applications out of this world. What if my beautifully intricate heart is required? Don’t want it marred!”

“Why the fuck would anyone ask for an image of your heart, Yeol? What job even requires the internal lookout of your organs?” His friend rebuts.

“How’d I know? I’m not logged in to alljobs.com!”

“Maybe you should, so you’ll be prepared to have a reasonable answer to your dumb shenanigans!”

“Will you both just shut up!” She snaps, smashing her laptop closed (again). They turn to her, blinking. “Why the fuck you’d even sit in front of a person you don’t know and have this conversation while they’re listening?”

They look scorned, cheeks going red. They regretfully look down at their laps, fiddling with their fingers.

“Now,” she exhales from her nose angrily, resembling a red-faced dragon (she doesn’t actually blush, but the running fury that’s gobbling her up leaves her face looking like a swollen tomato). “What the fuck do you want?”

The smaller man opens his mouth to say his demands once again, but she rudely raises an open palm up, squinting. “Speak gently. And slowly. And politely.”

He glares but complies. “I have something to ask of you, a proposition. Actually, you’re not a stranger, at least not as if now. I know who you are.”

She quirks a sharp eyebrow up, unrelentingly and very judgmentally. She’s not the type of person to be swayed over anything, definitely not over this man, too.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re one of the smartest students in our batch, and I kinda have been going through a lot with one of my assignments, so this idiot here told me to ask you for help.” He points to his companion, who salutes mockingly using two of his fingers. “It’s about the aftermath of war, and the effects it leaves on the intermingled classes of eighteenth century China. I’m very bad at writing shit. I confuse my statements; I fail at rearranging my paragraphs; I suck at choosing intellectual perspectives; and I most definitely can’t be on the neutral side to the point of sounding extremely radical. Would you help me write my research? It’s worth a bit of my marks considering I didn’t take the midterm for, ahem, certain reasons,” there’s a soft hue of red that glows in his cheeks, and feeling his blush, he scratches them with his long nails awkwardly.

“No.” The cute color doesn’t deter her at all, and she begins to collect her laptop and books to leave. Or, pretending to. She does not have any thought about leaving, not even when there’s a handsome stranger trying to invade her tranquil space. But, regardless of her wants, such gesture made the man nervous. He snaps his head up, eyes wide, and pushes himself to his feet quickly to stop her from leaving.

“Why not?” He begins to be angry. “Is this because you know who I am? Does my... Does our reputation precedes us?”

She gives him a cooly leveled look. “I only give favors to friends. You’re not a friend. Very simply. I couldn’t care less about your reputation, which does in fact precedes you. People tend to talk about things they don’t understand. The juiciest the gossip, the more people want to talk about it.” She pauses a little, confusedly staring at them. “Don’t you guys know that? When you wear these clothes, pierce all parts of your body, flash all of your tattoos, and walk around intimidating people, they will talk badly about you. Huh, I thought you guys are smart enough to discover this much about the nature of people.”

Whereas he looks startled out of his way with the sincerity in her words, It’s the companion who takes the time to speak. He asks her, his eyebrow raised. “Why’d you think we’re smart?”

She smirks at him, and he’s surprised that it’s actually playful, not malicious. “It’s only those that rebel the constant demands of society that have their heads teetered towards either intelligence, or insanity.” She slings her bag on her shoulder, her face going back to its previous expressionless slate. “Bye now.”

She doesn’t leave. She merely just stands and watches them watching her. It takes the two university boys a second to understand the implications behind her words, and when they do, they groan. They stand up, albeit slowly, and the shorter one dares to shoot her a grumpy, malicious glare, before walking away. The taller one simply tilts his head downwards in a respectable nod before following his friend.

Once they leave, she smiles, and the curl of her lips makes her face radiant, a whole lot flowery than the actual blanket of monochromatic nothingness that usually sticks on her all the time. She sits back down on her seat, opens her laptop, and begins to type again.

-

Oh the long road. Oh the long road. She sighs in her head, her legs heavy and unbalanced, almost sending her to the ground with how weak they feel. After almost six hours in university, with three classes and breaks in between, she’s finally done with all the nonsense that she, daily, has to face. Actually, university hasn’t been on her mind before in high school when she was in her senior year for this exact reason. She is too lazy for something overloaded like university. But, if she is being honest with herself, she doesn’t see herself in any place besides university, especially if she wants to have a ‘decent’ job. So, she tries to succumb to the voice compelling her to move forward, and ignoring the one that tells her to fuck everything and flop on the ground, dead.

A sound calling her name stops her in her long, angry strides, and she turns to the back to see her friend, Sami, waving for her, smiling so preciously that actual stars appear on her eyes. She’s not oblivious to the crowd gathering behind Sami, all males (and some females) staring at her with eyes twinkling with hearts. She reluctantly wave back, and Sami comes running towards her, beaming once she’s standing in front of her.

“You’re heading home?” Her friend asks.

She hums without a verbal consent. Her friend beams again.

“Great!” Sami loops their arms together. “Lets go together, and while we’re on the way, buy me a cocktail.”

“Alcohol this early? And why should I buy you one?” She raises an eyebrow up in ridicule, even though she already knows the answer to her rather dumb question.

Sami rolls her eyes. “No, an actual cocktail, with fruits and all. And you should buy me one because I’m your humble friend who asks nothing of you at all.”

“You ask for things all the time,” she narrows her eyes, and points at Sami’s earrings. “I bought you those earrings,” she points at her bag. “And I bought you this bag. And those shoes. I might as well buy you a house to live in if I’m already this much husband material.”

Sami grins, beaming, and her grip over her arm tightens. “It’d be so great if my future husband actually pays for all of my things. I’ll be a pretty, studious, working housewife that do things for him and accommodate all of his precious needs. Aw, I miss him already.”

“You should be careful not to say this in front of another woman that isn’t me.”

Sami blinks cluelessly. “Why? I didn’t say anything infuriating, did I?”

She pats her head sympathetically, her hand calloused despite the gentle, sardonic gesture. “Not at all. Not at all.”

They walk out of the university’s large grounds with Sami the one doing most of the talking, the bouncing, and the gleeful intervals; her grip tight around her arm, and her soft laughter surrounding them whole. She wouldn’t say that she was entirely comfortable about the concept of having a friend, but it has been two years now since she knew Sami, and she began to understand that in order to enjoy something beautiful, you have to watch it burn first, which’s why she, despite not liking it, disposed herself of her antisocial behavior, and stuck around with Sami.

Upon the huge gates of the university, she catches sight of the two students who had interrupted her morning study with their obnoxious presence. They’re standing in front, one of them - the tall one - is leaning against the large beige wall beside the gates, and the nuisance - the one requesting - is crouching on the floor right beside him, a fake cigar made of paper in between his fingers. They’re already staring at her, anticipating her exit. When her eyes meet the dark ones of the crouching guy, he smirks, his pink lips thin and inviting. He puts the fake paper in his mouth, pretending to inhale, and then pulls it off to exhale loudly, his eyes suddenly half lidded. He’s staring at her. She stares back, then she narrows her eyes, ticking her chin to the side in a silent request for him to look away. His smirk widens, and he doesn’t look away; his eyes invading her soul to the point she feels something scratch at the surface of her skin, begging to be released.

She scoffs. And almost as if he’s hearing her, he waggles his eyebrows teasingly. She blanches, disgusted, and her facial expression catches Sami’s attention.

“Who’re you looking at?” Sami turns to follow her friend’s eyes before she can look away, furrowing her eyes upon seeing the two boys. She turns to her friend curiously; nervously. “Do you... do you know them?”

She’s quick to shake her head, “Nah, I don’t know them outside the rumors that I heard circulating about them. I think one of their names starts with a B? Or an H? Anyhow, I don’t know who they are.”

“Why are they looking at you?”

She shrugs. “Beats me. Probably think I’m a visible, touchable time loop or something. That’d be cool. Have you ever seen Doctor Strange?”

Sami stares at her as if she’s an alien. “What on earth are you talking about?”

She shakes her head. “Never mind. Let’s quicken our pace. Maybe we’ll lose them in the crowd.”

As if hearing their words, the two boys jump to their feet (the one standing merely bouncing around) and they follow after them like two little creeps. They don’t say anything for a while, like announce their already large presence, and she ticks her head backwards with raised eyebrows, meeting their amused - yet frustrated - faces. She tilts her head, silently asking them about what the fuck they’re doing, and the shorter one of the two shrugs, the taller one smirking a little, the cigarette roll that was wrapped around the other’s mouth now in his. She looks away.

Sami notices her friend’s head going forward and backward, and turn around to give them a funny look, a little nervous for some reason. She looks back at her friend and pulls at her sleeve, a frozen smile on her face. “They’re following us.”

“If there’s an ice cube, large enough to have legs and is following me, and the world is so flabbergasted by it’s appearance, but you’re only concerned about taking your way home without interruptions. Would something happen if I gave it attention? No, you know why?“ she leans closer to Sami and with her big, wide eyes, she whispers. “Because it’ll melt away.”

Sami shakes her head in exasperation. Even after two years of being friends with her; she’s never getting used to her random thought processes. Either-way, Sami doesn’t feel entitled enough to say anything against that, and although she releases a little grumble from her chest in irritation at the skin contact, she doesn’t remove her arm away. Smiling, she leans her head on her shoulder.

“Yah. You can’t just pretend we don’t exist.” The shorter one says, or yells really.

His friend scoffs, and it’s strangely shudder-inducing because of his low grating voice. “We’ll follow you home if destiny calls.”

Sami lifts her head to peek at them, then quickly looks at her calm, astute friend. “Are you not going to answer?”

“A bird could constantly peck on my window and I wouldn’t shoo it away. I’m too lazy.”

Sami’s eyes mellow down, and her lips smile. “But that’s exactly what you do, sweetie. You can’t handle disturbances, especially when it affects your general surroundings.”

“You’re right. I’m going to kick their ass.” She stops in her gait, turns around, and glares; Sami stopping next to her. The two university boys pause in their strides, blinking.

“Question, exactly why was I chosen among the high grades receiving bastards in our class?” She raises her eyebrows up. “Is it because you think I’m easy? Or I’m a woman? Is it because you think I’m nice?” She says nice as if it’s a heinous word created for her personal offense.

The boys share a confused look. Then, the tall one clears his throat, readying himself for the paragraph he’s about to spout. “I’ve never once thought you’re easy, and neither have Baekhyun. We’ve seen the way you talked back to the teachers, and man, do you have a temper. I’m actually a bit shaky right now because I’m asking this favor of you. I’m not a misogynist, man. Why’d you make me something I’m not. love women. I love all wonen. Perhaps a little too much,” Baekhyun, the short guy beside him, is nodding his head sadly, “I’d have told Baekhyun to choose Dahyeon if I thought she was as responsible as you are. But the girl’s a klutz. She ruined a paper of mine once. Won’t let her do it again,” he then tilts his head, his confused face getting graver. “I’m sure as fuck you’re not kind, or nice. I wouldn’t have already been going through emotional trauma just by the thought of approaching you, yet, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Baekhyun spreads his arm with a surrendering look flashing on his handsome face.

Sami turns to her friend and analyzes the stone cold expression on her face. She hesitates, for a second, before she says. “They do have a point. You’ve traumatized half of the population in this university.”

“We still have two more years for you to traumatize the rest.” Baekhyun comments cheekily. When she shoots him a glare, he winks. She’s a little surprised. She hadn’t met anyone who winked at her deadly stare-offs. People are terrified of her, not amused of her.

“How many pages do you want your assignment to be? Mine’s going to be a minimum of eight, considering it’s only a meager homework, so I’ll try to shove your own pages between my breaks to save time.”

Their eyes go wide. Baekhyun actually gulps, unprepared for the challenge. “You write eight pages for an assignment worth ten marks?”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re here begging for help for this stupid assignment, so I guess we’re both pulling up our shits, right?”

He shuts up.

It’s the tall one that answers. “Any page number is fine. Take your pick.”

She nods, “You’ll have five pages, then. I take breaks in between my classes. I have two-to-three classes for five days aside Saturdays and Tuesdays, so we’ll write two pages every week until its due date in three weeks’ time,” she takes her phone and shoves it in the chest of the short guy. “Give me your number so I text you the hours I’m free on. I don’t give a shit if our schedules overlap. When I tell you to come, you come, with your laptop and all of your writing necessities with you. One mistake and you’re out, get it?”

Baekhyun sweats, especially since her expression is deadly serious and her hand, which is still clutching her phone on his chest is cold, deadly so. He gulps anyway and nods. “Thank you, really. Appreciate it. Is there anything I can do for you to repay the favor?”

She smirks, and pulls her hand off of his chest after he accepts the phone. “A bad boy who knows how to say thank you? That’s a new one. And keep the favor until after you deliver your assignment. I’m not sure you’ll wanna give me any favors after I’m done with you. Say, are you willing to pay money?”

He pales. “I’m poor as fuck, ma’am, expected of a university student, right? Please say yes.”

She smirks again, amused of the panic in his eyes. “Relax, idiot. Just wanna check something.” She turns to the tall one. He’s staring right back at her, eyes wide and brown hair fluffy. For a bit, she’s taken aback by the actual fact of how gorgeous he is. Wide, almond eyes, soft hair, tall girth like a skyscraper, and she fucking loves skyscrapers, the taller, the better. He’s wearing a weird mesh of jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, but he’s also wearing a sweater on top. He must be sweating in there. His wide eyes turn a little confused when she merely gapes at him, and she notices. She clears her throat, and rolls her eyes so the spectators don’t notice she’s a weird bitch.

“What’s your name?” She asks coldly. There’s a strange warmth circulating her body, but of course, she ignores that.

“Sorry?” He splutters.

She lifts a sleek eyebrow up, holding herself from smirking widely. “Your name,” she points at Baekhyun, who’s blinking down at her phone like it’s a foreign industrial scam. “This moron’s Baekhyun. Kinda noticed you mention his name. What’s your name? I’m a bit curious to know about the chaperone’s name, considering they’re always so ignored and unappreciated in movies.”

He looks a bit flustered, as if he hasn’t noticed he has been a chaperone all this time. He wipes the slight vulnerability that flashed earlier, twirls the paper stick in his mouth, and gives her a mock salute. “Chanyeol, ma’am, but don’t bother memorizing it. We wouldn’t be seeing each other enough for the need of that.”

She doesn’t comment on his words even though she’s curious. She merely tells herself he’s as weird as she is, probably a little arrogant, but of course not as her. No one’s as arrogant as her. She sits on the throne of arrogance. Her parents once thought she had narcissistic syndrome, those assholes, but dismissed it later on when she gave them enough evidence she wasn’t. She pays attention to Baekhyun, coughing to alert him of the actual fact he has been taking too much time typing gibberish on her phone, and not his phone number. She swears to God he probably failed to reach her contacts. He looked like a dumb loser up close like that, but she didn’t want to judge him so severely. A guy who winks at her instead of shit his pants must be a dumbass, but again, she doesn’t want to judge.

Baekhyun looks up from her phone upon her cough, smirks his annoyingly attractive smirk, and juggle the phone towards her (after locking it, for some reason) she tries catching her phone, and thankfully she succeeds. She glares, about to scold him about the degrading act of her precious gadget, when he all but announces.

“We’ll go see our own way now. Thank you for such precious moment. Perhaps we’ll be able to create more while avoiding chopped heads, from your part, of course. May the grounds open up to present you with a fortunate gift,” he does a whole theatrics of bowing, while simultaneously taking a step back, bumping into an unamused Chanyeol. “Adios, my lady.”

He turns around to Chanyeol, who whispers something to him. They begin to walk away, and Baekhyun says something to the taller guy, in retaliation, which earns him an eye roll. Not taking this lightly, Baekhyun jumps - to reach the tall giant - so he can wrap his arm around his neck, and pulls him into a headlock. Chanyeol doesn’t fight. He lets himself be dragged like a deadweight doll, like he’s used to such abuse, and she shakes her head. Chanyeol seemed cool with his indifference, but perhaps he isn’t the one in total control here.

Sami calls her softly, and forgetting her only friend for a bit - the two boys have extremely large presence - she turns to her. She offers a small smile, showing a dimple to her left side, and Sami beams.

“I’m not even going to ask what the heck just happened,” she offers her a hand, Sami; and she looks at it weirdly. “Ready to go home?”

Sighing, she accepts the hand, and agrees to be dragged home. Sami looks down at their hands; and thinks a little, her brows going all intersected. She shrugs, cooly intertwining their fingers together. She doesn’t even blink at the gesture, having been used to it. Out of character, the only thing on her mind at the moment is those two, strange university men.

-

Author Note:

So?

We haven’t got anything grounded yet. We still have a lot to cover! The personality of ChanBaek is beautiful, stick to see our dumb yet gorgeous boys.

Also, if you haven’t noticed already, our OC is freaking DANGEROUS! Chanbaek are in for a ride!

#chanyeolxreader #chanbaekxoc #chanyeolxoc #baekhyunxoc #baekhyunxreader #baekhyun #chanyeol #exo #fluff #comedy #romance #love #passion #poly #polyandry #reverseharem #fluuuuuufffff

[mordoriscalling]

The Colour-Magic Theory (1/?)

Intro

Here comes part 1 of me playing with magic and giving myself Geraskier feels. Hope you enjoy! (Also, no beta, pls have mercy.)

***

From a look, a song and unwanted friendship, new lives are born. The stack of firewood is swallowed up by flames the moment Geralt casts Igni.

“Oh, I love that trick,” Jaskier says and puts his hands close to the fire, warming them after his fingers got stiff from playing the lute in the chill of the autumn evening. “Why don’t you use it every time, I wonder?” the bard asks, observing his companion sitting across the bonfire. “It’s so much easier.”

The witcher only grunts in reply, as is his way, and continues munching on a strip of beef jerky. Jaskier, however, isn’t deterred by the silence, and continues staring at Geralt expectantly. His questioning gaze is like a physical touch. It sends a tingling sensation down the witcher’s spine, the way it always does.

With a resigned sigh, Geralt answers, “I usually want to save my magic for when I really need it, but you were whining so much about the cold that I just wanted to shut you up quicker.”

Jaskier gasps and lays a hand on his breast, about to dramatically take offence, but doesn’t voice his hurt in the end. Something else intrigued him. “Save your magic?” he asks, “what do you mean?”

The witcher measures the bard with the blank “no more questions” look for long enough that any sane person would give up. Jaskier isn’t exactly sane, in Geralt’s (and some others’) opinion, and stares at the witcher right back, unmoved. When it comes to stubbornness, their relation is a diamond cut diamond type of situation.

Finally, Geralt gives in, huffing in irritation. “Magic always has a price. When you take power from Chaos, you have to give something back. The give and take tends to affect your physiological well-being, especially when the stakes are high.”

“So...” Jaskier begins, confused about his understanding of the matter, “casting signs weakens you and that’s why you don’t use magic often?”

“No,” the witcher answers, confusing his companion even further, “My extra mutations... they must’ve changed it. Using magic doesn’t have any effect on my body at all.”

“Fascinating,” Jaskier replies, then immediately gets up to rummage through his travel pack. He comes back to sit across Geralt with a notebook and a pencil in his hand. “What is the price you pay, then?” he asks the witcher and starts writing something in the notebook without waiting for a reply.

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls, “I haven’t told anyone about this.” The bard’s head snaps up and he stares at Geralt in shock. Then, understanding dawns on his face. “Oh.” He clears his throat. “Alright.” The next moment, the page is torn out of the notebook. It lands in the bonfire and turns into ash. Geralt stares into the flames silently while Jaskier waits for him to speak up.

“My powers deplete themselves,” the witcher says, “It takes time for the magic to return.”

“Peculiar,” the bard remarks, “And a pretty shitty deal, too. I’d rather have it affect my physiology than have to wait after every silly spell.”

Geralt shakes his head. “There’s something else. It’s... hard to explain. In a way, I can negotiate with Chaos. Make my magic not exhaust itself as quickly as it should. It’s useful when I’m in a fight.” His mouth sets into a grim line. “I still haven’t figured out the price I pay for that, though.”

Jaskier smiles a wry little smile, not commenting for once, and Geralt lets himself look at the bard, who meets his eye squarely. The bright gold connects with the cornflower blue and time stands still. Just between the two of them, the colour of the bard’s irises is suddenly so vibrant that it alerts Geralt’s witcher instincts. Jaskier tends to have that effect on him. The bard is always full of energy  – all flutter and movement, brightness and sounds – and it’s too much not to be suspicious. Too much for Geralt’s heightened senses as well; Jaskier’s constant chatter almost gives him a headache every day. His singing is even more bothersome, considering that Geralt’s medallion reacts to it.

“Maybe the price is putting up with you,” the witcher jokes, deadpan. “You!” Jaskier cries, directing an accusing pointing finger at Geralt, “You bastard! I’m a delight and a gift to this world!”

Geralt huffs out a laugh but does nothing to deny it. Jaskier may be annoying and strange but he’s a blessing all the same. Since he joined Geralt two years ago, he’s been working relentlessly on improving Geralt’s image and changing the public perception of all witchers. The bard wants him reborn as a hero, which is a fool’s errand, but he’s grateful for it anyway. The thank-you gets stuck in Geralt’s throat whenever he wants to say it, even though he’s already less spat at in villages. Thankfully, Jaskier seems to understand. Many things pass between them with little words.

Later, when they lay down to sleep, Jaskier’s quiet question reaches the witcher’s ears.  

“Geralt?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“Hmm.”

*

The bard walks a few steps ahead of Geralt, who follows him on his horse’s back. Jaskier is composing. He’s always in front of Roach when he’s preoccupied with the creative process. The song about the healing of the Striga that he’s working on is in the middle stages – the first version of lyrics is ready but every single line needs perfecting. This is exactly what Jaskier is doing now: trying out the sound of every word and looking for ones that fit the melody better.

The bard is so engrossed with the task that he doesn’t notice the obvious – how the nature around him moves to get closer to his voice. Geralt’s keen eyes notice the way each straw of grass and every leaf lean in, just a touch, to “listen”. The air has gone completely still and the meadow is eerily silent; even Roach seems to be holding her breath. Geralt’s medallion vibrates.

The witcher decides that this moment is as good as any to confront the issue.

“You’re not human.” Jaskier freezes in his tracks, his body going rigid with tension. The acidic stench of fear fills the air and Geralt shifts in the saddle, disturbed by the smell for the first time in decades. “I am not,” Jaskier replies, his back to the witcher. “Do you want to tell me?” Geralt prompts, his voice gentle like it almost never is.   The bard turns to face him, face pale and hands trembling. “You really don’t know what I am?” “You should be the one to say it,” the witcher answers softly. Jaskier releases a shaky breath and nods. Stepping off the path, he walks into the tall grasses and strums his lute. When he opens his mouth, he sings in a language which the witcher has never heard in his long life. The tongue consists mostly of croons, trills, whistles and swishing sounds, and it’s enchanting even to Geralt’s ears. The air becomes thick with power immediately. It’s not Chaos, however. It’s a whole different type of magic.

The fae are creatures of nature – they are born from its energy. Guarding its Order and sustaining its sacred rhythms is their ancient task that they’ve always been fulfilling, hidden away in their own dimension of the world. They belong to the magic of nature and they don’t move out of it. Usually.

Jaskier didn’t belong anywhere, not until recently. His rhythm has always been too fast. He flutters from place to place, both quickly bored and immensely fascinated with everything and anything. The skies have always drawn him in the most – he still dreams of being a bird and flying anywhere he wants. In the end, Jaskier’s Queen found his temperament unbearable enough that she didn’t clip his wings any longer and allowed him to mingle with mortals.

Jaskier’s done his fair share of that, along with quite some mischief, but his life of adventure truly began only when he saw the brooding loner in Posada. The man’s restrained disposition and the guarded gold of his eyes were arresting, intriguing. Jaskier instantly wanted to know what secrets the witcher held. A few years later, he’s sure he won’t ever grow tired of uncovering them – every little bit of information, of understanding Geralt better, sends a thrill of rightness and belonging through his being.

Freeing his magic puts him at ease, lets him truly breathe. And so, the bard carries on singing, not afraid anymore. He smiles, radiating happiness. His glamour has dropped a bit and his sharp fangs are showing but the witcher only smiles back with the tiny upturn of his lips. Jaskier laughs in between the lines because from this moment on, he’s well and truly safe.

When the song ends, the meadow is completely silent for a moment, then the buzz of insects picks up anew and the gentle gust of wind returns.

“You’ve said enough,” Geralt remarks, and that’s all he has to say on the matter.

After that, the bard opens up to his companion even more, if that’s even possible. Geralt has a suspicion that Jaskier’s chatter was to serve as a distraction from his magic. Now that it’s out in the open, Jaskier’s silences, previously almost non-existent, has got longer. The bard doesn’t shy away from using his power around the witcher, too, and uses it in various ways to make their lives easier. He enchants a client into compliance when they don’t want to give Geralt the promised pay, or asks plants and animals to tell them where the nearest shelter is. When Geralt has a restless night, Jaskier’s humming puts him to sleep. The witcher’s medallion always vibrates then but Geralt isn’t alarmed by it any longer. It’s become a welcome thrum.

Their dynamic changes but they don’t look for any ways to describe it; they simply live the new way and enjoy it. The lazy, warm afternoons are the most pleasant, when Geralt stretches out in a shade of some tree and dozes off to the sounds of Jaskier's lute. Other times Geralt uses Aard to toss some object and Jaskier tries to catch it, laughing, his giggles lovelier than the tinkle of silver bells. Chaos and Order swirl around them, the sky is blue and the sun shines bright on the lush green grass. It could mean nothing or it could mean the world but what matters is that they both find peace. This is why Geralt doesn’t call Jaskier his friend – the word doesn’t fit.

Then Cintra happens and they part ways for three whole years.

TBC

Part 2

#myfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #The C-M Theory AU #magical!Geralt #fae!jaskier

[sheerbeautyreigns]

DESIRE

Part 35

Things get heated in Vegas.

Paul gently stroked Joe's cheek, hoping to wake him. He groaned, moving his head off Paul’s chest. “Baby,”

“Huh?” Joe moaned, keeping his eyes closed. “Let’s go to bed. It’s almost one.” Paul nudged him a little more urging him to get up. He was so cute when he was tired, eyes squinting, trying to avoid the light, his hair messy. He threw off the robe that he had been wearing and crawled in under the covers, closely followed by Paul. His face warmed seeing Joe immediately pull the covers up over his naked body. Paul lay behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Joe nodded off pretty quickly while Paul was just happy to lay holding him until he eventually drifted off.

It was almost 8:30 when Paul woke up. He rolled onto his back and looked to his left. Joe was lying on his stomach, head turned to face him. Strands, of hair had fallen in front of his face. Paul could just about see the fresh stitches on his temple. He knew it was a simple accident but it didn’t stop him being pissed off about it. That and the fact that he didn’t find out about the Wyatt attack until the last minute. He had to contain his anger sitting next to Vince watching it all unfold. He knew Joe could take it but he had become so protective of him in recent weeks that he would do anything in his position of power to give him anything. He could also see the fresh scratches and bruises that had appeared throughout his arms, side and back.

Paul had always found marks sexy but only when he was causing them. It made him think about the first time when he looked at Joe in a different way. It was back in 2014 when The Shield were up against Evolution at the Payback PPV. That time when he, Randy and Dave beat Joe with kendo sticks, followed by a steel chair. Not only that but the very next night when he was beaten with a steel chair. It turned him on immensely and he had been paying special attention to him since but he never made a move until after they got to know each other better during their 2016 feud.

“What are you thinking?” came Joe monotone voice against the pillow. Paul’s eyes trailed up to his. “Just looking at your battle scars.” A lazy smile crept across Joe face. “I dread to think what they look like this morning, much less feel.”

“At least you can rest until Sunday.” Paul said trailing his fingers gently down his spine, down to the base of his back. “I’ll need it.”

“It’ll be worth it baby, to see you with that title again. It’s been too long.” Paul re-assured him. Joe cast his eyes downwards. “It is what you want, isn’t it?”

Joe hesitated before answering. He turned on his side, wincing a little. “I just feel bad for Drew.” He pursed his lips. “I mean, it was meant for him wasn’t it?”

“Yeah but he doesn’t know that. It wasn’t fully decided until I spoke with creative.”

“He’s worked so hard for it-” Joe started. “Hey, look, we all know how hard he’s worked. He’ll get it one day but not just yet. It’s your time understand?” Joe really did feel troubled by this whole set up. He felt that this was just being given to him because of his relationship with Paul and he knew a few people would realise that. Joe always wanted to work for his title shots. “Do you understand?” Paul asked again. Joe nodded.

“I don’t want you overthinking this whole thing or losing sleep about it. Just rest up this week and do what you do best on Sunday.” Paul said placing a kiss on his lips before crawling out of bed, naked. Joe turned on his back and smiled, checking out his sweet ass as he went into the ensuite.

He listened as Paul ran the bath and thought about what he had just said. Seemed he would have this no other way. Joe himself agreed that he had busted his ass for almost a year with no sign of a title shot so true, it was his time. He just felt bad that he was getting in over Drew considering how well they had become acquainted in the last month.

Paul came out of the bathroom and came towards him. “I’m running you a nice relaxing bath baby. It’ll help, if only a little.” He said sitting at Joe’s side as he sat up. “You’re too good to me.” The young man told him. “It’s only temporary, while you’re hurt. Wait until I get you to my place next week.” Paul smirked with a dark glint in his eye. “Can’t wait.” His lips curved into a smile as Paul’s hand curved around the back of his neck and motioned him towards him for a slow, sensual kiss. Joe got up off the bed. “Check on the bath.” Paul advised, smacking him on the ass.

Joe eyebrows furrowed as he checked out his back in the bathroom mirror. It was as bad as he thought it would be. Hopefully creative didn’t have any nasty surprises in store for him come Sunday.

Carefully he eased himself into the bath. The heat of the water increased the pain in his back initially but he started to feel more relaxed as he lay back. He cupped the water in his hands, releasing it onto his chest and lay with his head back, eyes closed. It was so relaxing, he almost fell asleep again. Paul appeared at the door. His face softened when he saw Joe in the tub. He looked so peaceful. He couldn’t imagine wanting to hurt him like he’d done in the past but maybe he’d feel different in a week.

Paul watched with pride as the referee counted 1, 2, 3 when Joe pinned Bray. A huge smile spread across his face as the referee handed him the Universal Title. Joe was so overcome with emotion as he took hold of the belt. He had worked so hard for this and had just taken part in one of the hardest fought and best matches of his career. He felt banged up, still sore from the attack on Raw but he didn’t care.

His eyes met Paul’s first as he arrived backstage. Paul nodded at him with a smile just as he was bombarded by the other wrestlers congratulating him. Once he worked his way through the crowd, he got to Vince, who was almost on the verge of tears as he hugged him and finally Paul, who pulled him into a bear hug. “So proud of you.” Was all he said. Joe knew he was just keeping things low key as not to draw any attention. There would be plenty of time for talk later. All Joe wanted to do now was shower. He made his way, with his belt to the men’s locker room. A few of the guys were already in there, Colby, Tom, Matthew, Claudio, Kevin and Drew. Joe immediately went over to Drew and hugged him. “What a match!” Drew said with a smile, clearly glad that it was over. “You guys put on a hell of a show.” Claudio chimed in, putting his arms around both men. “We must celebrate!” He said throwing his arms up in the air. The others agreed, even Colby. Joe only had plans to go back to the Venetian with Paul. “Whaddya say Joe?” Drew asked. He couldn’t deny that smile. “Sounds a plan.” He said giving in. He barely ever went out for drinks with the guys and they were in Vegas. He grabbed his phone from his bag and quickly called Paul.

“What’s up?” Joe hated interrupting him while he was working. “Listen, some of the guys want to take me out for drinks. They kinda goaded me into it. Do you mind?” Paul was quiet for a moment. “No problem babe, I’ll be here another while anyway and you deserve it. Where are you guys going?”

“I’m not sure yet, somewhere on the Strip I’m sure. It’ll only be for two or three anyway.”

“OK cool, let me know where you end up.”

“Love you.” Joe told him to which Paul replied “Love you too.”

Everyone agreed go to the Dorsey at The Venetian since it was central Strip. They all freshened up and agreed to meet there around eleven. While Joe was changing into a his black suit and black shirt, he heard the door open. Paul was early. “Look at you.” He cooed seeing how good Joe looked. He rarely got to see him in a suit. “Makes me wanna keep you here.” He said pulling him in for a kiss. “I won’t be late. Just thought it’d be nice since we’re in Vegas. You wanna join us? We’re just actually going to the Dorsey downstairs.”

“Aww babe, I”d love to but its been a long day so I’ll just have a drink here.”

“You sure?” Joe checked. “Yeah, I’m good. Who’s out anyway?” He asked. “Kevin, Tom, Matthew, Claudio, Drew and Colby. Just a few of us.” Paul pulled away. Joe could see the look change on Paul’s face. He placed his hands on his hips. “I thought you and Colby were no longer on speaking terms?” Joe shifted. “Well, there’s just the odd hello here and there. It’s kinda unavoidable since we work together.” Joe tried to reason with him.

“Doesn’t sound like it.” Paul said. He looked annoyed. “Claudio just suggested drinks when we were all in the locker room. I could hardly say no?” Paul walked out of the bedroom into the living room area with Joe in pursuit “Look, I should’ve told you when I first mentioned drinks but I…” Paul stopped and turned to face him “You what?” Joe backed away a little “I was worried you might be annoyed.” The young man was frustrated. “You’re right. I am. I specifically asked you not to get involved with him-”

“We’re just going for drinks with friends. That’s all! Don’t you trust me?” Joe asked, searching his eyes. Paul’s eyebrow furrowed “Don’t you?” Joe asked again, his eyes starting to look a little glassy. Joe swallowed, backing away and going back into the bedroom. Paul’s look said it all. He could hear Joe starting to gather his things in the ensuite. “What are you doing?” Paul asked coming into the bedroom. “You clearly don’t trust me so I’m done.” Joe was visibly upset. “I’m sorry baby. Don’t go-” He said grabbing Joe arm. “No, not this time. I was so fucking stupid to think I could try this again.” He said zipping up his bag. He was angry now. Paul grabbed his arm again, this time not letting him go. “Look, look! I’m sorry I upset you. You know how I feel about Colby.”

“There’s nothing going on. I can’t believe you don’t trust me with him.” At that moment, Joe phone rang. He took it out of his pocket. It was Drew. Paul eyed the phone before Joe answered. “Hey, I’m just held up a little. I’ll be down soon.”

Paul took a few steps back. “Y’know what? You do what you want. See if I care.” Joe scowled at him before grabbing his bag and leaving the room. He was seething. He blinked his eyes hard as he walked towards the elevators, trying to ward off tears. Luckily, reception was quiet since it was Sunday night and he was able to get himself a room. He quickly dropped his bag off and went down to the bar. The guys were all sat around a table in the corner. “About time!” Tom announced as he approached the table. “Sorry guys!” Joe apologised forcing a smile. “Have some champagne! Time to celebrate!” Claudio said, already filling a glass for Joe. They all toasted to his win and a good night for them all in general.

“Where’s Paul?” Drew asked whilst the others were all chatting amongst themselves. “He’s upstairs.” Joe simply said, taking a swig of his beer. “Didn’t care to join us for a drink?”

“You know what he’s like. Anyway, I don’t wanna talk about him.” Joe called to the passing bartender “Can I get another round?” The bartender got to work immediately. Drew looked Joe over. Something seemed off, like he was hiding something.

An hour passed and everyone was moderately drunk. Joe was in mild conversation with Colby when his phone rang. Colby could see it was Paul, just before Joe put it away. “Aren’t you gonna get that?”

“No, It’s fine.” Joe shrugged. “Listen man, tell me if I’m out of line but…you seem different tonight. Are things OK with you and Paul?” He asked cautiously so the others wouldn’t hear. “No, they’re not.” He said before sighing. “Do you want to talk about it?” Joe looked him in the eyes “Actually, no. I just wanna have a good time with you guys and forget about it.” Colby backed up “It’s cool man, whatever you want.”

It was around 1am when the guys decided to call it a night and go to their respective hotels. “Hang on for a moment.” Joe told Colby as the others left.

“I didn’t want to come off as a dick earlier. You know that’s not me.” Joe started apologising as they stood in the lobby area. “Hey man it’s all good. Despite what’s happened between us over the past month or so, you know I’m always here for you.”

“Appreciate it man. Where are you staying?” Joe asked. “Here. I’ve never stayed here before, thought I’d treat myself.”

“Well It’s been a long day. I’m shattered.” Joe said as they walked towards the elevators. “At least were here tomorrow for Raw so can chill for a bit.”

“Well, this is me.” Joe said as they stopped at the 10th floor. “You gonna be OK? I don’t mind keeping you company…” Colby offered. Joe eyes trailed in his direction as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. He didn’t need to say anything. Colby stepped out into the hallway and walked to Joe’s room in silence. Nothing had been touched. It just looked like he’d left his suitcase in and came down to the bar which meant that he had probably been in Paul’s room beforehand.

Joe closed the room door behind them and set the key card aside. Colby walked into the living room area and looked out the window, taking in the night view. Joe followed, taking off his jacket and setting it on the back of the chair. Quietly he moved behind Colby and placed his hand on his right shoulder, urging him to turn around. Without a word, he kissed him gently on the lips. Colby reciprocated momentarily but moved away slowly. “What’s the matter?” Joe asked. “I don’t want to regret this.”

“You won’t.” He leaned in to kiss him again, more forceful this time. “Joe, please-”

“I thought you wanted this?” Joe searched his eyes. “I do but, you’re drunk…pissed off with Paul. I just…you’ve gotta understand where I’m coming from?” Colby was being reasonable. Joe moved away, lowering to the sofa. “I do. It’s not fair on you man.” Colby joined him on the sofa. “Do you mind me asking what happened?”

“Things got a little rocky a couple of weeks ago when I went to stay at his in Connecticut so I left earlier than I had planned. I thought that was it but last Friday, we talked and ended up spending the weekend together in Denver.”

“When I told him I was going for drinks tonight, he was fine at first but he got pissed off when he heard you would be there.” Colby rolled his eyes “It’s just drinks with friends. What does he think is gonna happen between us?” Colby shook his head in amusement. “He doesn’t trust me when it comes to you and I can’t live like that. I had to make a choice.”

“So that’s why you walked out tonight?” Colby pursed his lips. “Yeah. I had enough.” Joe let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m just tired man.” Joe leaned forward and lowered his head into his hands. Colby could see that he was starting to cry. He moved closer and put his arms around Joe “Aww man, don’t cry.” Joe buried his head into his friends shoulder and sobbed quietly. “I hate to see you like this.” He stroked the back of his neck, gently rocking him. Joe moved away, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry. I just feel like a mess.” Colby took hold of his shoulders. “Listen to me. I don’t want to see you upset. You’re not a mess. You’re a brilliant man and my best friend. You deserve the best.” Joe blinked and nodded. He felt ashamed. He didn’t want Colby to see him like this. “Just get some sleep man.” Joe nodded standing up. He stood up and got undressed down to his boxers while Colby pulled back the covers on the bed and moved the cushions aside. Joe brushed his teeth and came back into the bedroom. Colby forced a smile. “Will you stay a while. Just until I fall asleep? I don’t wanna be alone.” Joe as asked timidly.

“Of course.” He nodded. Joe got into the bed and watched as he undressed, neatly setting his shirt and trousers aside before turning off the lights. The room was now bathed on a red glow, coming from the nearby Hi-Roller outside. Colby climbed in next to Joe, who was lying on his back, eyes lowered to his chest. Colby moved closer, allowing Joe to lean his head into his chest for comfort. He placed his hand on Joe abdomen. There was something so soothing lying with Colby, hearing his light breaths and feeling his heartbeat that it didn’t take Joe long to nod off.

Joe awoke around nine the following morning. The room was bright since the curtains hadn’t been drawn. He had been lying in the same position as he had fallen asleep in. Colby started to stir, moving his head. He groaned, opening his eyes slowly.

“What time is it?” He asked groggily. Joe grabbed his phone from the night stand. “It’s just gone nine. Thanks for staying.“ Joe turned in to face him. “No worries. You feeling a bit better?” Colby asked, stroking his cheek. “Rested. So glad we don’t have to travel today.”

“I know. What are you gonna do?” Colby asked, stroking Joe forearm. “I don’t know. I never made plans. I normally just chill with Paul.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere for a big breakfast. There’s a place I’ve been to before called the Peppermill. Wanna go there?”

“A big breakfast sounds perfect about now.” His stomach rumbled at the thought. Colby laughed upon hearing it. His hand trailed down to Joe stomach where he tickled him. Joe laughed aloud, squirming, trying to fight him off as Colby climbed on top of him, continuing to tickle him. He grabbed Joe by the wrists and pinned him to the mattress. Joe could feel his cock getting very hard as Colby did this.

“What are you gonna do now?” he teased, lowering his head closer to Joe. Their eyes met. Without hesitation, Joe lifted his head off the pillow and kissed Colby. Within seconds, they were entangled in a passionate kiss, hands roaming each others bodies, scrambling to take their boxers off. Joe rolled over onto his stomach, arching himself up on his knees. Colby climbed behind him and prized his ass cheeks apart, leaned forward and started to tease his opening with his tongue. Joe moaned at the warm wet feeling. “So good…” He looked behind and all he could see was Colby’s head buried in his ass. He dripped his saliva around the opening and lined the head of his cock up with the opening of Joe’s hole. He eased his way in as Joe lowered his head, breathing deeply. In no time their bodies were rocking the bed, slowly at first, then becoming more steady as Colby picked up the pace. “Aaaah fuck. Jesus!” Joe let out, trying to maintain his balance. All Joe could hear was the slamming of Colby”s balls every time he thrust into him along with his grunts. He sure had stamina when it came to fucking. Colby gripped his pelvis tightly, steadying him as he came hard in his ass. Joe buried his head into the pillows below as Colby shuddered behind him breathlessly. He eventually released Joe, rolling back onto his heels. He watched as Joe rolled over onto his back, strands of hair strewn across his damp forehead. He smiled lazily at Colby, watching as he leaned down to kiss him.

“I don’t know about you but I need food.” Colby said getting off the bed. “I’m gonna go freshen up in my room and I’ll meet you at like 10:30 in the Lobby?”

“Sounds perfect.” Joe said getting off the bed. He followed Colby to the door. “Hey.” Colby turned around. “Thanks man.” Joe kissed him again before letting him leave. Joe smiled to himself as he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He went to the bedside to plug in his phone. He pursed his lips upon seeing a couple of unread WhatsApp messages from Paul. A horrible feeling invaded the pit of his stomach as he opened them.

11:30pm - I’m sorry about tonight. I do trust you. I don’t want to lose you again.

8:45am – Hope you’re OK? I want to make things better. Can we talk?

Joe exhaled setting the phone down and went to take his shower. All he could think of was that it was too late for Paul to say he trusted him. Why didn’t he say it to his face last night? Again, Paul had him wrecking his brain. He didn”t know how things might pan out with Colby since he was known to sleep around. He probably wouldn’t want anything serious. It was too soon anyway. He decided he was gonna just play it cool in the meantime and see how things pan out.

When he came back into the bedroom, his phone had just stopped ringing. It was Paul. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

One thing that was certain, Paul wasn’t the type to give up on something so easily. He would probably see him this evening for Raw and part of him wanted to get this over with.

“I was wondering if I’d hear from you at all.” Paul started. “I’m not long up.” Joe said walking over to the window. “Good night?” Joe hated this small talk. “Yeah, was a nice change.” There was a moment of silence. “Are you at the Venetian still?” Paul asked.

“Yeah.” Joe started pacing around the room.

“Can I see you?” Paul eventually asked. “I have to head out soon.”

“When you’re free?” Paul pushed. “OK. I should be around one.” Joe told him. He was already dreading this conversation. “OK come up to my room.” Paul said before ending the call.

#roman reigns #seth rollins #drew mcintyre #d/s #smut #roman reigns fic #wwe

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

Favorite Works of 2020

@frenchy-and-the-sea tagged me!  

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves!  Choose your 5(ish) favorite works you created in the past year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020.  Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to some awesome works!

WELL I have been beyond busy at work during 2020 as we shifted for a while to working on COVID-related research, and I haven’t written much for fandom because of it.  I was a co-author on a bunch of publications between that work and some other things I did, which I’m not going to link here for privacy’s sake (if we’re mutuals and you’d like to see them DM me and I will send you links though!)  After a quick glance over my blog archive I’ve discovered that I’ve written a grand total of Exactly Five (5) pieces for fandom in 2020, not counting my long fic, so here they are:

1.) This prompt I wrote for @thereluctantinquisitor, featuring her adorable prickly ball Cyrus being bothered, once again, by Rexus.  This one was fun to do because the nature of those two’s relationship in the past has always been just...how much can I get away with annoying him before he’ll a) try to kill me or b) never talk to me again, and Cyrus continuing to come back again and again because he just really does actually like Rexus.  This piece is set a while after Rexus has begun his journey towards redemption, and he’s come to a realization that he just likes being around Cyrus, too, and that’s all he wants out of him this time.  Plus, Rexus uses Cyrus’s actual name, rather than some Generic Orlesian Name as he always has before, and it’s both world-shattering and a nice nod to his growth.

2.) Continuing with Rexus and Growth(TM), I wrote this prompt for @bladeverbena, whose ideas and encouragement and friendship helped bring Alba Navarro to life.  Here, she’s thinking known scoundrel Rexus is again up to something scoundrely, which he IS, but this time there’s more to it than that.  I adore writing Alba’s and Rex’s interactions so this piece was particularly fun; I got to do it in the TSU chapter as well, but the difference between this one and that one is that in TSU, Alba knows he’s an ass and continues to expect him to be better, while here she knows he’s an ass, expects him to be better, and is genuinely surprised when he actually does live up to that.  Even if it’s in the context of a prank war with his neighbor’s twelve year old.

3.) Katsuma (Emma x @lavellanlove’s Katsuro) has existed for a long time, but this prompt from @hurl-a-can is the first time I’ve ever actually written anything for them.  I couldn’t NOT write it about them - these two are so alike and so in tune with each other and SUCH NERDS that they were the first thing I thought of at the idea of a scene involving only body language.  It’s also short, which is a miracle for me, and also fitting for them: getting meaning across with actions and few or no words.

4.) Finally, getting into the ship occupying all my thoughts day and night but having abysmally little to show for it, I did this prompt for @lavellanlove of Silavi (Silver x her Avira), having a sweet quiet moment watching the rain and deciding they’re not quite ready to have to be apart again just yet.  I’m really not lying when I say these two own my entire heart and being able to think and talk and write about them since we got them together has been nothing less than incredible, and an opportunity I’m immensely thankful to have had.

5.) This prompt for @dickeybbqpit was kind of a return to my roots, so to speak, looking at Emma and Lux’s friendship which has been sorely neglected by me for waaaay too long.  They mean so much to each other and their friendship means so much to me; despite their differences - and they are VERY different people - they love each other so much and keep their friendship strong through everything.  All based on moments like this, showing trust and support in the face of the other’s fear of consequences.    

BONUS.) Okay I wasn’t going to include this but I’m probably most proud of the fact that I updated The Swim Upstream after TWO. WHOLE. YEARS.  I’d gotten into a thing where I wrote more interactions with other people’s ocs than I did with my own, so it took me a while to get back into their heads well enough to finish this, as well as the ever-present trap of self-doubt, this being a very oc-centric story it’s hard to get other people interested in and random people aren’t going to just find it on AO3, and ‘Should I rethink the entire plot and scrap everything and start over?’  This story’s already outlined and I have an idea of how many chapters I’m going to have and what’s going to happen in them, so it was just a matter of...getting motivated to get it out and being happy with it.  And let me tell you...I title all my incomplete chapters in Google Docs as “WIP Ch X” and removing the ‘WIP’ off of Chapter 5 was beyond cathartic.  Chapter 6 is coming along, and I hope to not take another two years to finish it.

I am gonna tag everyone I already tagged before because I am lazy and also love all of your work, and also @sunshinemage, @fleshwerks, @lethendralis-paints, and @livjnoodles purely out of a selfish desire to see more of your work on my dash ;)  No pressure, as always! <3

#thanks for the tag <3 #favorite works of 2020 #i am a slow af writer so even getting this much done is an ACCOMPLISHMENT for me