#this stupid idea has haunted me for days now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nomazee · 7 months

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Silly little thing I thought of

Like like imagine dazai and the reader have been friends for years like the reader knew him since his 15 goofer era... and they got used to eachother sm they usually sleep in eachothers beds n stuff :3

LIKE SOMETHING IS GOING ON BUT THEY STILL HAVE THE FRIENDSHIP LABEL.. 🐺🤞

this concept stuck itself in my head like a tapeworm and it has not escaped me for days IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED i wrote SO MUCH for this omfg i had so much fun writing this thank u for this wonderful idea pairing: dazai x gn reader word count: 2.5k content: fluff, vignette-style writing, friends-to-lovers unspoken label type of thing, soft dazai, domestic fluff without the marriage bit, banter, idiots in love im taking requests!

===

Dazai’s toes are still as frigid at night as they were seven years ago. You, of all people, would be the best person to measure this—not in a weird way, but you two have shared a bed at least once a week since your teenage years. You know all of Dazai’s annoying sleeping habits, including his ones of sleeping without socks and digging his feet into your shins for warmth.

Annoying fucker. You sigh, batting his arm away from its loose hold around your waist. “Get your toes off of me,” you croak out, half-conscious and mind still addled with the remains of your once-deep sleep.

“What toes,” Dazai mutters back, smacking your intervening hand away and returning his arm to its rightful place around you. “I don’t have toes. I got rid of them after puberty, ‘member?”

“I’m gonna kill you.” You won’t, not really, and the threats have lost their edge after all these years, but it’s fun to throw at him when he annoys you like this. “I know all your weaknesses, Osamu. One wrong move and you’ll be missing more than just your toes.”

“I’m cold, dear. Would you really let me freeze like this? So mean.”

You try not to choke up at the nickname. He’s been a fan of those recently, at least in the last year. You think it has something to do with your new places at the Agency. New workplace, new life, and new nicknames, apparently. If you overthink it you might puke on him and fall back asleep.

“Not cruel. We have money now, you know. Go buy yourself socks. Wool, or something. Stupid ass cold ass toes.”

He goes quiet. Even in all these years of knowing him, half-living with him, you can’t tell if it’s a normal lull in the conversation or a calculated pause. It doesn’t unnerve you as much as it used to, but there’s still a cold chill at the nape of your neck that springs up at times like these.

“Why would I do that when I have you?”

Dazai has also been a fan of this recently—strange uncharacteristic moments of tenderness. He peels himself back for you and bares himself raw. The implications make you nauseous. Swathed in the darkness of the night, he can’t see your fingers twitch from where they lay next to your head, away from his sight; or the conflicted expression that crosses your face.

Easing your breath out into a steady, deep rhythm, you pretend to be asleep. It’s not like he can’t tell, but the message is there. Let’s not talk about this until the morning. Let’s just sleep for the night. Let’s keep what we have and not change it for the worse.

At age eighteen, shaken with the death of his friend and haunted by blood stains on his fingers, Dazai defects from the mafia.

He doesn’t take you with him—at least, he doesn’t mean to. He expects to leave quietly, or as quietly as blowing up Chuuya’s car can be. He doesn’t expect you to drag yourself along kicking and screaming.

Dazai doesn’t remember much about specifics, but he knows that one day he was alone in his underground apartment and the next day you were there. The kitchen smelled like melted marshmallows and rice krispies and his dingy counter was covered in sprinkles.

“Hi, Dazai,” you’d greeted conversationally. “I’m making your favorite.”

He doesn’t even like rice krispie treats. Hates them, actually.

In truth, your presence is less the result of you “kicking and screaming” and more like an after-effect of your own quiet stubbornness. Your kicking-and-screaming was done in the passive aggressive way that you cleaned his dishes and made his bed and left big trays of rice krispie treats in his fridge for the next week.

Neither of you talked about Chuuya. It was better for you that way.

On the first night, Dazai remembers you holding him from behind, forehead pressed into the stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder. He’s sensitive there despite being wrapped in his stupid scratchy bandaids. His memories for the rest of the night are overrun by a feeling of want, an itch to feel your fingers on his bare skin, a craving for your hand on his stomach to slide beneath the hem of his shirt and press into the tender skin of his abdomen and keep him warm.

===

“Leave me alone,” you grumble from behind the sleeve of your jacket. “I’m napping.”

“It’s not napping if you’re still awake.”

“I wouldn’t be awake if it wasn’t for your annoying ass.” Rotating your body to face the ceiling from your place on the Agency’s couch, you sigh when your view is blocked by Dazai’s ugly stupid face. He’s smiling in that conniving way that he does when he’s about to do something super annoying. Another sigh escapes you when he leans down close enough for the overgrown ends of his hair to brush against your nose. The puff of air from your verbal discontent makes the strands sway slightly. You try not to think about how mesmerizing he looks when he’s this close, with the light from the window casting a golden sheen on the crown of his head.

Since when did you get this sappy? Must be Dazai rubbing off on you, obviously.

“So tired already! It’s barely noon.”

“You came into work an hour ago. I’ve been here since eight. Try being responsible for a change, might exhaust you just as much.”

“Hmm.” He tilts his head, big stupid shiny brown eyes blinking down at you like he’s observing a specimen. “I think I’m more than responsible enough.”

“Sure,” you relent, turning back around to shove your face into the corner of the couch and block out the incoming light. It’s the truth—you’re exhausted. A persistent weariness permeates your bones from how much you’ve been working these last few weeks. It’s not like it’s anyone’s fault in particular, not even Dazai’s despite how much he slacks on paperwork. But looming threats from enemy organizations hang over everyone’s heads and there’s no shortage of uncertainty in the Agency. It’s been mission after mission for you, and you’re taking every break you can get.

Rustling sounds from above you, but you pay it no mind, busying yourself with nestling all of your body into the crevices of the couch and hopefully turning into a piece of furniture yourself. It might be a more peaceful life, really. The calm is short-lived when you feel fingers tap along your cheek—not in a rousing gesture, but something along the lines of placating.

Dazai squeezes a hand beneath your head and cups the side of your face pressed against the couch, tilting it closer to him before you feel a warm press of lips against your cheek. He lingers. He always does. You can feel the gentle inhales and exhales breeze against your face before he breaks his kiss away. Your cheek is warm for more reasons than one.

“Take care of yourself,” and oh, god, you’ll never get used to this, never get used to how tender and soft he’s become with you, never get used to how this Agency has fostered something like kindness in both of you. Your stomach stirs with something unnamed and if you were braver, you’d blink your eyes open and reach up and grab the sides of his face and pull him down to you.

But you’re not brave, and there’s people still behind you in the office, and you wonder what led Dazai to be soft enough to kiss your face like that in front of everyone. You’re sure they’re watching you both. The Agency is full of gossips, whether they admit it or not.

===

“Dazai,” Ango Sakaguchi grits out from behind the crackling reception of a burner phone. “They were not a part of the plan.”

“You think I don’t know that, Ango?” Dazai replies, tone more playful than aggressive. “I know they’re not a part of the plan. They knew they weren’t part of the plan, too. But it’s too late to do anything about it. It’s just a minor change.”

“A minor change?” Ango’s voice is strained with stress, no doubt pulling out strands of his hair as they speak. “I have to deal with not one, but now two members of the mafia defecting. Do you know how much work this was to begin with?”

The thing is—of course Dazai knows. He knows everything. The minute he found you in his kitchen, his stomach dropped with the uncertainty of the future. Going underground with another person was nothing short of a burden, at least on paper. But, he couldn't find it in himself to think of you like that. Like a burden.

“We’ll figure it out, Ango. If you don’t, then we will.”

A gritty sigh sounds from the other side of the phone call. “I’m putting a lot of faith in you, Dazai. Don’t screw this up.”

===

“Made you lunch. Since, obviously, you’re not gonna do that for yourself any time soon.”

A closed plastic container is thrown on the counter in front of Dazai. He looks at it, then up at you, eyebrow raised as if he doesn’t have a clue what this could be about. He’s not that stupid, though. You of all people would know that.

“How nice of you! Too bad I’m not hungry.” His lip juts out in a poor imitation of a pout, and he looks ugly with it. So ugly. Ugly enough to make you feel the need to kiss him all over and then slap him. An incredulous huff escapes you.

“I don’t care if you’re hungry. Eat. It has crab in it, see, your favorite.”

“I thought my favorite was rice krispies?”

You freeze. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might remember that, after all this time. You don’t dwell, because that’s the worst thing to do with Osamu Dazai—dwell.

“Don’t act stupid. Just eat it. Even if it’s not the whole thing, at least some of it. It would do you some good.” Getting serious with Dazai is one of the most awkward, unbearable things you could ever do. He has a way of making you feel stupid for worrying about him, with all his roundabout jokes and skills of evasion built up over years. You’ve found that being straightforward is the best way to avoid all those blank moments of silence.

His fingers curl around the plastic lid and pop it open. The container is still warm, having cooked all its contents just half an hour before showing up at Dazai’s apartment with conviction in your eyes. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll have some.”

You bring out a duplicate container with a serving for you, and treat yourself to a juice box from his fridge. You try not to launch into a lecture at the sight of his barren pantry—that’s best done by Kunikida. The both of you eat in silence, sitting across from each other at Dazai’s dusty kitchen island.

He only gets through a few bites before pushing the container away and complaining about how full he is. You know it’s not the truth, but it’s the mixed-up signals that his body sends him. It’s not that he’s full, but his persistent lack of appetite has caused a lot of troubles for him in the past and you don’t doubt that it’ll keep causing troubles in the future, too.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you tell him, dragging him up from his chair despite his whining protests. “I won’t make you shower, but you should probably do that tomorrow, ‘cause your hair’s about to get all greasy and disgusting.”

“So crude.”

“I do my best.”

You let him change on his own, but not before picking out a nice soft set of matching pajamas from deep inside his closet. You grumble a little in annoyance. The set was a birthday gift you got for him a year ago and that asshole pushed it to the back of his wardrobe and never touched it again. What a brat. You throw a pair of fuzzy socks at him to boot.

Once he’s changed into proper sleep clothes, you can tell that the exhaustion is starting to hit him. He sways a little on his feet and his blinks last for a little too long, as if he’s chasing sleep every time his eyes shut. With another begrudging sigh, you set him down on the floor of the bathroom and dollop his toothbrush with fruity kid’s toothpaste—because of course that’s the only toothpaste he owns—and brush his teeth for him.

Dazai dozes off in the middle of it, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up in the most annoying way possible. You try really, really hard to not think about how soft you’ve gotten. You’re an ex-mafia member, past coated with dark stains and entrails and death, all of those dark things. Your blood is just as black as Dazai’s, if not more. And yet, being a part of this stupid Detective Agency with this stupid man has melted you down into something parallel to good.

Don’t dwell. It’ll do you no good.

You use a gentle grip with the toothbrush, ensuring that his delicate gums don’t tear with the force of the bristles. A warm feeling stirs in your chest. It feels like you’ve proven something, like you’ve proven to the world that your coal-stained hands can be gentle, too. You can kill and you can nurture. You tap Dazai awake with a little more care, now.

“Rinse your mouth,” you tell him in a whisper. “Then you can sleep.” And after a pause, you add, “I promise,” because now you’re in the business of making promises to people.

Dazai rinses his mouth, and you wipe off the remaining droplets of water from his face with a paper towel that you leave on the counter for your future self to throw out. You lace your fingers with his as you walk to his bed. Not that he needs any guiding. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just a little extra insurance, you think.

“Stay with me,” he mumbles out the minute you lay him down on the bed. It’s a sentence, and not a question, because he’d rather die than ask you something so vulnerable. He’s doing it again—peeling himself back and baring himself raw for you. Your head swims and your vision blurs with either a migraine or with tears, you can’t tell. But your lips quirk up into a stupid smile and he sees it despite his half-lidded eyes, and he smiles back like the stupid dope that he is.

“Yeah, of course. I’m right here, Osamu. Go to sleep.”

And he does. Of course, not before he feels you cup the opposite side of his face and plant a warm, lingering kiss on the swell of his cheek just as he did for you weeks before. The faint laugh that he lets out before he falls asleep is enough to tell you that he’ll be making fun of you for it in the morning. For now, though, he’s soft and pliant and warm between your hands, and you sleep.

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fic #bungo stray dogs fic #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x you #dazai osamu #i forgof how to tag hejkp me #openeing up comissions soon... maybne....#this was so fun to write like it lived in my brain for a week and i wrote a little bit every day #i had DAYDREAMS ABOUT THIS CONCEPT BRO LIKE

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oceansprompts · 10 months

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text message prompts

[text] You okay?

[text] GO TO BED!

[text] hey you better be alive in there

[text] SOS save me please holy shit

[text] call me this date is going so bad

[text] I have way too much shit to do.

[text] Honestly I'm really worried about you.

[text] Why are you trending on Twitter?

[text] Please let me come over and pet your (pet).

[text] We are in the same building, you could come talk to me.

[text] It's not going to work out.

[text] This is a terrible idea.

[text] people have fetishes

[text] They really do crucify anyone these days huh

[text] I don't know why but that really means me want to stab you

[text] That movie was awful.

[text] For the love of god please help me

[text] I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.

[text] I'm blocking you.

[text] YOU ONE BRAINCELLED BITCH

[text] I regret swiping right.

[text] Everyone lies on their dating profiles.

[text] That absolutely can't be an actual picture of you.

[text] This forced open my third eye and I saw the devil

[text] I'm like a child in line for the newest fucked up disney ride

[text] That's just all fucking sorts of fucked up

[text] Why are we here? To suffer? Every other day I get messages that cause pain

[text] In the department of old man fucking, we've got you beat.

[text] have you gotten any work done?

[text] I am beyond shame, try again

[text] You left your left your underwear at my place.

[text] Don't you dare put this on Facebook.

[text] My brother in Christ you're being haunted

[text] I want to wring you like a wet towel and slap you against a wall

[text] The mind is weak but the body is funky

[text] I'm a zombie the law can't stop me.

[text] Jealous of my massive honkers

[text] We left you to die to play minecraft

[text] She would never ever take away one of these stupid fucking hats

[text] I puked all over the Uber driver's backseat.

[text] I just took a screenshot of that and posted it to Reddit

[text] You said you'd be right back and it's been months.

[text] Can't we talk about this face to face?

[text] Yeah, you'll come learn I just have a thing for milk

[text] Why did you like one of my pics from 2014?

[text] Now's as good a time as any to exchange nudes.

[text] Why would you send me an eggplant emoji?

[text] I write five paragraphs, pouring my heart out, and all you reply with is k?!

[text] Who would dare to lie on the internet?

[text] When I die, please delete all my shit off the internet

[text] He's so hot, I briefly started texting like a straight person

[text] And because I'm god and I've decided that; no, in fact, I'm not done.

[text] I know you love bloopy reggae jams, now is not the time.

[text] You better not be standing catatonic in your room again.

[text] God has abandoned his children but unfortunately for you I pay child support and I will smite thee.

[text]: My neighbor just told me he can fix my water heater for 50 bucks. I’m skeptical.

[text]: Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy apples? I paid 10 dollars for 6.

[text]: I mean, I wouldn’t say I have a problem with buying Squishmallows..

[text]: Hey, so you know how you told me no dog? *sends pic* I don’t do well with no’s.

[text] Stuart Little is a bitch and Remy could take him any day.

[text]: My roommate just said that Lola Bunny is hot. I’m moving out.

[text]: Hey I posted that vid of you drunk, singing Ariana Grande, wearing all black and people said not to do it again. Sorry.

[text]: Do you think the price is ever right? Like, I feel like it’s not.

[text]: I booped your nose. Boop the last five people you texted or–nothing happens really.

[text]: I’m actually in the ER and it’s a long story that involves Best Day Ever from spongebob.

[text]: I fucking hate you–wait you’re not my ex. Who are you?

[text]: You ever ask yourself if birds see a bee and just go ‘wow a bee’? im high.

[text]: sometimes all i think about is–sour patch kids. bet you thought it was you.

[text]: I love you—not as much as I love my dog. But still a lot!

[text]: I found a cat on the way home and now it’s mine. But it hates my guts so this should be fun.

[text]: I have questions about the marvel cinematic universe…how long do you have?

[text]: why do donald duck and winnie the pooh not have to wear pants but other people do?

[text]: Hey you know that show floor is lava? I may have turned the apartment into that..this isn’t a joke, btw. the floor is sticky.

[text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

[text]: On a scale of one to ten, how many drinks would you need to sleep with me? This isn’t a tiktok trend…or it is.

#rp sentence meme #roleplay memes #sentence meme #sentence starters #text message prompts

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johnwickb1tsch · 1 month

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 29 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You dare not put it down on the big tablet on your easel where John will see, but you can’t stop yourself from drawing it out in your smaller sketchbook-journal that is easier to squirrel away under clutter, putting down marks like you mean to exorcise her from your memory. You draw her like a ghost in her field of happy white flowers, and write in the margins in your looping script, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make him forgive you. You want me to save him but I don’t know how. I don’t fucking know how.

Maybe she’ll actually hear your plea and do something useful about it, like haunt John’s dreams instead of yours.

Maybe you’re losing your damn mind.

You find that either way, you’re not brave enough to mention her to your captor again.

She becomes an obsession, and you keep drawing her in your little sketchbook. You’ve only ever seen one picture of her. It was in the den, but has since disappeared. Still, you feel you know the lines of her face, the brightness of her eyes. You go back to your old fixation with the ladies of Mucha, sketching her out as the Lady of the Daisies with flowing auburn hair surrounded by her stylized flowers and flowing lines.

You strive to cover your true fixation by putting down anything as quickly as you can on the easel, knowing your captor will be by for inspection. You draw sunflowers, your favorite summer bloom, something fun but you can do with your eyes closed with colorful, juicy strokes of oil pastels. You hope to keep John off the scent of the book that holds your heartfelt neuroses that you bury under piles of all your new art supplies and anything else you can find.

It was stupid, of course, to think you could really hide anything from him.

One day you find him in the chair with his legs crossed, perusing your sketch journal with one of those magnificent thunderheads of a frown.

You are certain you are fucked, when he asks, “Is this your idea of a joke?”

Trembling as you imagine what he’s going to do to you for this infraction, you answer truthfully, “No.”

He closes the book with a snap, crossing the floor to stand before you, his powerful body moving deceptively slow, the way a tiger appears slothful in the jungle.

You know he can snap you up with one bite.

You cannot stop shaking, as he peers down that straight nose at you, pinning you with black eyes that somehow burn. He does not touch you, but God. He sees everything. You just know that he sees everything, and you find you are terrified of how he’ll react.

“Have you been snooping through my things?”

“No.” The irony of him holding your sketch diary is not lost on you, but wisely you hold your tongue.

“How did you know what she looked like?”

“You had a picture out of her, ages ago.” At least, it felt like a like a lifetime ago.

“How did you know about the daisies?”

Now you know he’s going to flip his shit. It sounds fucking absurd, even to you. Your voice can barely rasp past what feels like dried twigs in your throat to whisper, “I saw them in a dream.”

You expect him to scoff and call you a liar. But he just searches your face, his eyes a little too wild for your liking. Here we go. He’d been damn near stable the past few days, but surely this will set him off.

You close your eyes, unable to watch the unfolding of your doom. This is it. He’s going to lock you up forever. You’ll never see the light of day again. The trembling in your frame kicks up to ten, and you hug yourself just to have something to hold on to.

When his next question comes, he could push you over with a feather.

“What does she say?”

You shake your head, realizing your cheeks are wet with tears.

“Nothing. She just…offers me the flower.” Going for broke you add, “She looks so sad.”

It is the sound of tearing paper that opens your eyes; with horror you find John making confetti of your art nouveau sketch that took hours to do. However, any protest dies on your lips—if destroying the drawing appeases him, maybe he won’t take it out on you.

Without another word, just a hard look, he stalks from the room.

Only when the sound of his footsteps fade down the hall do you let out the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, your knees quivering like leaves in a storm.

However, you are not foolish enough to believe you’re in the clear just yet.

-Later, there is no dinner. You find the kitchen cold and empty. Not sure what to make of this, you graze in the fridge, before returning to your bedroom. Not sure where John has gotten off to, you shower, then go to bed, finding yourself lying awake in the dark without him beside you, almost itchy without his steady presence in the evening at your side.

Part of it might be that you fear something is brewing, and you can’t stand the waiting…but part of it might simply be that you miss him, as fucked up as that is.

In the end, against your better judgement, you go looking.

You search the house, until the only room that is left is the garage. Silently you open the door, slipping through without a sound. You too are learning how to move quiet as a wraith. The smell of rubber and oil assaults your nostrils. Classic rock is playing low on the radio. In the far bay, the hood of the Mustang is open, and John is bent over inside, wrenching on something and muttering to himself. There is a partially empty bottle of Blanton’s Bourbon on the workbench behind him, and an empty glass.

Unable to stop yourself from committing what perhaps might prove to be suicide, you creep to the other side of the Land Rover, using it as cover as you eavesdrop on this man grumbling to the ghost of his deceased wife.

“What do you want from me? I loved you. I loved you with every fucking fiber of my being, but you left me. I died with you the day you left me, and she is the only thing that makes me feel alive again. I need her, and she never would have come to me on her own. She never would have stayed. She never would have stayed.”

He says this to himself over and over, and it wrenches your heart, because you know it isn’t true.

You think you manage to creep back out again without him noticing, Led Zeppelin on the radio disguising the sound of the door.

When at last he comes to bed and wraps you in his arms, holding you too hard for comfort, you feign sleep, smelling the bourbon fumes on his breath. You can’t help but tense, wondering if he will forget his promise this deep in his cups.

But he just sighs into your hair, crushing you as he pulls you even closer, and you don’t know why it breaks your heart all over again.

#heyyyy it happened!#bittersweet john wick imagine #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick fic #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick

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teyamsatan · 10 months

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𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍: 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: Memories flood Neteyam's mind as he deals with your accident, making him relieve your history and all the reasons he can't shake you from his life, no matter how hard he tries.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death)

wc: 5.1k words

a/n: I'm actually really nervous about this chapter, because while I love it, it's different than any other Monster in Me chapter so far. This is also the only chapter I've ever written entirely from the MMC's POV, and I hope you enjoy finally finding out why Neteyam's been acting the way he has, and why he's so adamant in his quest for vengeance. As always, thank you for asking to be tagged, I'd love to hear your feedback, your replies and asks and reblogs make my life, so thank you! Thank you to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art, ilysm bestie x and thank you to @draiochtwrites for listening to me talk about my stupid ideas for hours every day, i love you x

na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, ite - daughter, srane - yes, Olo'eykte - female Olo'eyktan, tam-tam - calm, oare - moon, tewng - loincloth, torukspxam - octoshroom, ngaytxoa - I'm sorry, 'itan - son, angtsìk - Hammerhead Titanothere, yarik - herbivore, ftang - stop, tsantu - good guy, tsìltsan 'eve - good girl, kali'weya - arachnoid used in Uniltaron

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

And maybe in another life We fight all day, kiss all night But I don't wanna break your heart You keep yours, I'll keep mine

Neteyam, for the first time in his life, couldn’t have cared less if he tried that there was a battle underway, that there were humans screaming and charging at the Na’vi around him, that the explosions happening every time a helicopter went down in flames deafened his ears - none of it mattered anymore, not as he heard the screech of an ikran he knew all too well, that he loved, that was now lifelessly falling towards the ground, taking the woman of his worst nightmares and biggest fantasies along, not when, with every second passing where he ignored the rest of his surroundings and dove as fast as his own ikran could possibly fly in order to make it to you in time, another memory flashed across his mind, so many memories he thought he left behind, so many memories that would haunt his every waking moment if he wouldn’t catch you, if he was too late.

“Teyam, do you trust me?”

“What kind of question is that? You’re my best friend. Of course I trust you.”

Your mischievous smile, although more devious than Neteyam liked, always had power to put his heart to ease… after all, it was you. You, his best friend, the girl who knew everything about him, that helped him withstand every challenge life threw at him, just a couple 11 year olds who had gone through more than most adults do, who have been forced to grow up a lot faster than any kid their own age should ever do. But Neteyam didn’t mind. Maybe he used to, back when he was young and naive. Back then, he cried a lot, each morning a dreaded reminder of the pain and ache that awaited him each day, all for a purpose he couldn’t quite understand yet, that made no sense in a child’s mind, that had no way of truly understanding the concept of a future littered with war and loss, a future where he would carry the burden of being the next leader of his clan, the eldest son of the mighty, revered Toruk Makto and Palulukan Makto, the grandson of brave, respected leaders, the next in line of a ruling dynasty filled with great people he had to follow and to live up to.

Now, he no longer cried, because no matter how hard life got, he was never alone. Because, even though you didn’t have quite the same pressure on your shoulders, you carried your own burdens and a sadness deeper than Neteyam could ever imagine or could ever want to. In his mind, the sting from a few bloodied gashes and the headaches that tried him each night were a small inconvenience compared to the pain that you struggled with and braved every moment since your parents died. When his father told him that you would be joining him for training in the weeks after the accident, Neteyam didn’t know what to expect. But day after day, you managed to blow not only his expectations, but his entire family’s out of the water, each day just another opportunity for you to prove to everyone that your future would be as bright as all the stars in the night combined, that you were special and unique, that you were a talent that only comes once in a few lifetimes.

Now, years later, Neteyam still found it hard to believe how strong you were, how capable and skilled and fearless. Whereas he’s always been more withdrawn and temperate, your fire burned strong and untamed, and you always managed to get both of you in trouble - if he were to be honest with himself, though, he would never mind, not with you.

“Good. Then let’s go.”

You didn’t bother looking behind you as you started sprinting, your flowy top and tewng, always one-of-a-kind, undulating in the wind, making Neteyam’s heart flutter in his chest. You were so beautiful. The most beautiful. A purple flush rising in his cheeks was all that was needed for Neteyam to be grateful for the way you always ran ahead of him, too impatient to wait for a boy that liked to take his time and enjoy the moments few and in between in which life didn’t have to go too fast for his comfort.

"Where are we going, Vi?"

"Shhh, more walking, less talking, 'Teyam. You need to learn to embrace the unknown." you chuckled as you stopped and waited for him to catch up, before taking him by the hand and pulling him until he stumbled softly onto you and you both fell, him on top of you, with a gasp that turned into loud giggles from your side and unflinching groans from his.

"Vi..."

"The mighty warriors have fallen, what will the clan do without us?"

He couldn't help his own exasperated chuckle and the roll of his eyes as he spoke.

"I don't think we're quite there yet."

You shrugged, sure of yourself as always, a trait Neteyam admired and tried to emulate, to little avail most days.

"Soon. Your dad's already talking about the Iknimaya. We're almost ready, Teyam. And if we do it soon, we'll be the youngest Na'vi to ever do it. You and me."

Before he could say anything, you reached for him until your lips made contact with his cheeks, and it didn't help his blush, that was now deep periwinkle and burning his skin from the inside out, like a fire that wanted to escape his body, too powerful to be contained inside it.

"And just like today, if you ever fall, I'll always be there to catch you. You and I, we're meant to fall and rise together."

Those words rang painfully in Neteyam's ears as his ikran dove at full speed towards the ground, as his open, stretched out hand was just outside of your reach, as he watched your body disappear through the trees, where it would inevitably crash, where it might be lost forever.

His heart, that was going as fast as his ikran was, watching your unconscious form collect deep, bleeding scars like Kiri collected pebbles in the woods with every hard branch your body made contact with, stopped racing in his chest as, by the grace of Eywa, your fall was broken by the plush, attenuating force of a torukspxam right before you hit the ground. Despite the fear, so deeply embedded in him, it was impossible to know if he would ever be able to fully detach himself from it again, a seed of hope bloomed in him that maybe he wasn't too late. That maybe, despite not being able to catch you, not now nor for the past 7 years in which he's left built up resentment prevent him from wanting to, maybe he wasn't too late.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He didn't wait for Seze to land before he jumped and approached you, pushing with all his might against the drag of his own heavy body that felt like it was experiencing the world in slow motion, until one of his hands found the back of your neck, propping you up gently and his other hand placed two fingers on your pulse point, trying to feel for a heartbeat that would either calm his own or stop it altogether.

"Please, Txepvi. Please..."

When the small, barely-felt flutters registered in him, he let out a breath he didn't even realise he was holding and wasted no time in picking you up bridal-style and running back to his beautiful ikran. He had no time to dwell on the cracks deepening in his heart as he watched Seze bumping her snout on the side of Oare's lifeless face, sorrowful trills filling his ears, no time to dwell on the red liquid spilling out from multiple points in your body, dripping down his body and onto the ground, no time to stop yet another memory fighting to come to the forefront of his mind.

Fickle as you are That's exactly why I keep on running back 'Cause I'm brittle at the parts Where I wish I was strong

“I can walk, Teyam.”

Neteyam decided to ignore you as he grabbed you by the back of your knees and carried you back to the village, the gash in your leg large enough to have hit a couple veins and stain your thigh red, but not deep enough to make it life-threatening - still, Neteyam wouldn’t take any chances. Taking chances… that was the reason for keeping you so close to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck… that was the only reason.

“Can you, Vi? Isn’t that how this happened in the first place?” He chuckled, yelping a little when your fist made contact with his chest.

“It was an accident, you know that.”

“Yeah, well, you have a lot of accidents. And so close to the Iknimaya, too…” the shake of his head was mostly a teasing one, and although he tried to push away the nagging fear eating away at him, the one that told him you might not be able to take it with him, the one that screamed he’d be all alone once more, like he was before you, the one that urged bad memories and ugly scenarios into his mind, the one whose ugly head appeared as though from around the corner, staring intently to see if he’ll allow it to approach or banish it from existence. He couldn't decide yet.

He couldn’t do this without you. He needed you to be his first flight. Like you told him last year, and like it’s been solidified in his soul every day since, you and him were meant to rise and fall together. You were meant to fly together, to soar together. And that couldn’t happen if a tiny accident delayed your progress.

“Aw, it’s sweet you’re worried, although I think it’s mostly selfish and you’re just too scared to do the Iknimaya by yourself.”

The tinge in his cheeks is enough validation for you to start laughing at him, your head thrown so far back, he had to readjust his grip on you, so that you wouldn’t fall out of his arms.

“I knew it! You scaredy-cat. Why would you be scared, Teyam? Out of everyone here, everyone who’s gonna do this next, out of all of us, you are the best. You’ve always been the best.”

“No. You’re the best." As much wasn't up for discussion to him, and never will be. "And you promised.”

Your smile softened taking him in, the little pout he tried his best to conceal, the little scrunch of his nose, the way his ears twitched in slight annoyance and slight embarrassment… he couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought you found it… endearing?

“I know what I promised. And I intend to keep my promise. You don’t have to worry, Teyam. You and I have always been two sides of the same coin. And as long as you want me by your side, nothing could ever pry me away.”

"Just hang on, please. Shit. Please don't die. Please don't die."

And maybe when you need my help I like myself when it's over But later in the light, you go Dark and rogue, and I need closure

“Ma ‘ite, you have to be more careful.” The quiet, teasing admonishments of his grandmother do little do deter you, although you keep your eyes on the ground, slight embarrassment visible in the swish of your tail and the flatness of your ears.

“Srane, ma Tsa’hik. Ngaytxoa.”

The thick cream paste made its way from Mo’at’s fingers to your thigh, where it was spread in a hefty layer until the cut was no longer visible. You winced as it made contact with your skin, but said nothing as you accepted the help, and Neteyam saw his grandmother nod in approval at your bravery and inclination to suffer in silence, to not let anyone know you’re in pain at any point. Strong heart. Him, on the other hand, wished you were a bit more forthcoming, wished you didn’t feel the need to go through suffering alone. With a pat on your head and a soft smile, the Tsa’hik raised from her spot on the floor and turned her back on you both.

“You’re all done. It’s just a scratch, this time. I feel like I always have to have extra healing salve at the ready just for you. Now go, and be careful. Your Iknimaya is soon and my grandson would never forgive you if you missed it.”

“Neteyam, quick, put her on the mat. I need all the help I can get, now! Go get all the healers in training, we don’t have a lot of time.” The barking of orders did little to ease Neteyam’s fear, as he very rarely has ever seen his grandmother this agitated. After sending away the trainees, she turned to her grandson and took a deep breath, to calm herself. As serious her voice was, as rushed and violent the atmosphere around them, she still found the second to put her hand on her grandson’s chest, feeling the erratic, loud, trepidous heartbeat that refused to settle in him.

“Ma ‘itan, she’s very weak. I know you haven’t been close in a long time, but she is your intended mate. I need you to prepare yourself for the worst. Now go back to the battle.”

“No. I’m staying here.”

Neteyam didn’t get scared often. A whole lifetime of being raised like a soldier made his skin as thick as an 'angtsìk’s, and little ever managed to get under it. You did. You had unmatched prowess to make him feel so many things, too many things, all too intense, all too powerful, all too overbearing. When he was young, all of them were good and pure, all exciting and hopeful - love. It was love. Now, he feels anger and resentment, vengeful spite and deep arousal, all of which poison his mind and make him a version of himself he hates. Hate. That’s it. It’s all hate, isn’t it? So if it is… why are his limbs trembling and eyes watering, why is his mind jumbled with all these memories, why has the blood coursing through his veins been irreparably polluted with so much deep, earth-shattering terror and grief at the thought of losing you? Why was there a crater in his chest where his heart usually resided when he imagined his life without you in it?

Maybe it's because, for better or for worse, you were a constant in his life. From the second your presence made its way to him, you never left. There hasn't been a day that he hasn't seen you, that he hasn't been in your vicinity, not a day in which you haven't trained together, side by side, friends before, enemies after, but always together. Your words, that he drowned for years, came back like an undying echo ringing in his ears.

"You and I, we're meant to fall and rise together..."

I don't need a reason to keep on dreamin' That we don't lose, yeah, what's the use?

More and more, it felt like you had been right all along. He didn't think about it for so long, so desperate in his attempts to hurt you like you had hurt him, to sour your life like how you soiled his most precious memories, all of you and him, all of a childhood long left behind, all of fantasies he's harboured at the time that long dissipated from the version of future he used to dream about. Nothing about his life now was how he once envisioned, and that was because of you. He would never forgive you, but he couldn't let you go, either. No matter how the visions differed from his current reality, he couldn't shake you, couldn't let you go. Because despite it all, he couldn't part with the girl that used to be his partner in crime, his training buddy, his best friend, his first flight.

"Are you ready?"

Neteyam watched in awe as you confidently nodded at his father, smiling as if the hardest challenge an Omaticaya Na'vi would ever undertake, one that most people did when they were much, much older, was nothing to you, like it was just another yarik hunt that you've done a thousand times before. You turned to him and the smile you gave him dazzled him, left him breathless, not a good thing for the trek he was about to undertake, but still, not something he would could ever find it in himself to be upset about. You turned your attention momentarily to the bowl of paint in your hands before you brought a finger to his face, completing the pattern that was the same as the one you were adorning, one that he painted on you.

You both took turns saying goodbye to everyone, paying special attention to the little bundle in Neytiri's arms. Neteyam couldn't believe this was his little sister, and couldn't believe how attentive you were with her, how careful and loving. Some of his personality must be rubbing off on you, because to the Sully family's surprise, you didn't drop Tuk once in the year she's been born. In fact, you haven’t dropped anything in the last couple of months, including yourself from high places, which used to be one of your favourite past times, and Neteyam couldn't help blush at the thought that he was the reason you were being a little more careful.

As expected, the climb was the hardest thing Neteyam ever put his body through, and he felt suddenly grateful for all the years of torturous training that now felt like a peaceful breeze of the wind in an otherwise unyielding hurricane. Still, seeing you in front of him, not once complaining, not in front of the multiple 15 to 19 year olds that were also taking their rite of passage today, not in front of your Olo'eyktan, made him push through, too. If you could do it, so could he. Because you would do it, so would he.

The rookery was hidden behind a waterfall, and Neteyam watched as one by one, the few Na'vi joining you both either failed or succeeded, and with each attempt, his fear grew stronger, his mind more restless. Eventually, it was his turn, and with a deep breath, he started walking towards the slippery ledge that would lead him to his fate. A hand on his chest not only stopped him in his tracks, but also stopped his heart momentarily, just momentarily, because before he knew it, it started booming again with enough intensity to dizzy him.

"Ma tsantu... you got this. Remember, you and I, we're meant t-"

"-to fall and rise together, I know." you smile, your fingers smoothing the deep frown that gave Neteyam a headache without even realising and he sighed, trying to calm his mind and soul, focusing on you and only you.

"Exactly. So you can't fall, because if you do, I'll have to follow you... and I don't intend to fall yet, Teyam. Not yet."

"How did this happen?"

"Oare... got shot. She's dead. She... fell. I couldn't catch her." I couldn't catch her...

Neteyam couldn't bear to look at the way his grandmother was ripping you apart, although he knew it was all with the purpose of putting you back together again. Her trainees, all girls he knew, some girls he knew more intimately than others, all flocked around you, with wet cloths and trays of balms and powders, of plants and tinctures, and it all hurt, the guilt of knowing to some extent, to a large extent, this was all his fault. This ongoing war between you, never-ending and harrowing, reached a nadir that resulted in the death of your ikran, in your accident, and indirectly, because of your removal and his from the battlefield, might result in the deaths of good na'vi men and women, all of whom had families and a life, and a future they would be robbed of.

Neteyam couldn't leave you and go back. If he did, he knew that much like you, he wouldn't be able to focus enough to matter, and the thought of his mother, of his father, losing one more loved one was too much to bear. Neteyam couldn't leave you, but he couldn't stay here either. It hurt, being here, watching flashes of the girl he hates intertwined with the girl he loved more than anything else in the world, it hurt, having to deal with feelings he buried deep down and memories that came to him like summer rain, uninterrupted and warm, but powerful enough to flood and leave damage their wake.

With one last look at your unconscious form, Neteyam left the village on the back of his Ikran, knowing there was one thing he needed to do, he had to do. His mind was overcome with agonising sorrow as Seze's mourning was felt through his entire being, and the full weight of what transpired came crashing down on him like a tidal wave he could do little to stop, but had to power through, hoping that by the end there was something left of his heart to go on. Oare, much like Seze, has been in his life every day for the last 7 years, and he loved her. She was playful and sweet, and she always played with him when he snuck out at night to give her pets and treats, refusing to let your declining relationship affect their bond. Oare was Seze's best friend, her companion and life partner, and Neteyam knew her death would affect his ikran for a long time, perhaps forever.

With a squeal that matched the banshee, Neteyam watched from the air, on the back of his new mount, his new friend, his new spirit sister, as you made Tsaheylu, and his heart, that has been barely beating in anxious fear, felt finally awake again.

"Ftang! Tam tam, tsìltsan 'eve." your smile was wide and relieved as your eyes searched the sky until they found his, and he swore he never knew it was possible to love someone so much, to feel so connected to a soul, so much so it felt like he could hear you, your heartbeat and your mind, like tsaheylu would have been redundant because he knew. He just knew.

"I did it, Teyam!"

"Yes, you did, Vi! Come, first flight seals the bond."

That day was Neteyam's happiest day. That memory is still something that he cherishes deeply, that he'll never be able to shake, that haunts him at night, that shakes his resolve whenever he's thinking of a new way to make you pay. That memory is still untarnished in his mind, and it will always remain so, especially today, as he's fastening Oare's lifeless form onto Seze, petting her one last time, allowing the tears he's been stubbornly pushing back this entire day to finally fall from his cheeks onto her face, almost like she was the one crying, one last time.

"I'm sorry, girl. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry that I beat you... again. You're gonna have to do much better than this to beat me, Teyam."

The floating rock you landed on, hours after you finished your Iknimaya, was alit with biofluorescence, the colours reflecting in your eyes and on your shiny skin, covered in a light layer of sweat from the flight.

"Give me a break, Vi. It's my first time doing this."

"Yeah, cause I've been doing it for ages." you say, chuckling and rolling your eyes. You prop your body on your elbows and point to the two banshees playing in the air with each other, a mass of ravelling green and purple, so beautiful, and so, so free.

"I can't take all the credit. She did most of the work. I love her already, Teyam. Do you have a name in mind for yours?"

Neteyam didn't have to think about it too much. Ever since he's first found out about the Iknimaya, a story told to him by his mother consolidated a name in his memory that he's never been able to forget.

"Seze. Like my mother's ikran that bravely gave her life in the war against the Sky People."

"That's pretty. And fitting. She's a beautiful flower."

"What about you?"

"Oare."

"Why?"

"I used to look at the moons every night and think I'm so far away from this, from my destiny, from who I've always known I was meant to be, the Iknimaya might as well have been the moon - unreachable, untouchable, a world away. And now, I'm here, with you, way past curfew, and we're gonna get in so much trouble and I couldn't care less because I did it, I reached the moon. And I did it with the only person I ever wanted to. So.. Oare."

"Thank you, Teyam. I learnt a lot from you in these years. Ever since I met you, I knew you were special. And I think, even without realising, I wanted to be more like you. I've looked up to you for so long, I don't even remember my life before the Sullys took me in. If I'm here today, it's because of you. You helped me become more temperate and understand the weight of my talent and my power, and that I have a responsibility to the clan, that this is bigger than me, and my life."

Neteyam was taken aback at your words. You were never this forthcoming with your feelings normally, but he couldn't say he wasn't happy about it. He was so happy.

"I love you, Vi. I may have made you more responsible, but you made me better. Braver. More creative, more inventive. I almost couldn't finish the Iknimaya today, and then one of your crazy ideas popped in my head, and it worked. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't have done this without you, without your influence in my life. Thank you."

You smiled softly, and put your head on his chest, just watching the dance of the banshees, and he prayed that this moment would never end.

"I guess we really are meant to be together then, huh?"

"Yeah. I guess we are."

Neteyam placed Oare in the village, where the elders and Tsa'hik would be able to perform Eywa's funeral rituals, before making his way back to the tent. He couldn't help the gasp that escaped him as he was met with your drowsy, blood-shot eyes, so much sadness in them, it broke him. They were so different then the ones that have haunted Neteyam's mind today, so devoid of the innocence and love he remembered, so filled with anger and spite and hurt, so much like his own, such a bitter reminder that the past was only that, the past, and there was nothing left of you, or of him, of the love you shared and the future he envisioned. With one last memory, Neteyam felt the walls surrounding his heart, thick and unflinching, growing harder with every year since the Iknimaya, fortify yet again, as one last memory emerged uninvited and reminded him of why, despite your history, Neteyam would never look at you the same way again.

And I know whatever this is ain't love So I'm goin' I'm gonna let you go, let you go

"I'm going to go back to my tent. I had too much of a good day to spoil it by Jake yelling at me for 2 hours straight. I'd rather save the pleasure for tomorrow."

"That's so unfair, why do I have to suffer by myself?"

A shrug was all the answer you felt was necessary to give him, and he felt his heart drop at the notion of going to his family's tent so late, so far past curfew, without your much more argumentative presence, that his father could never resist. He walked cautiously, silently, praying that his family would be asleep so he could just sneak in and postpone the yelling until tomorrow. To his surprise, he heard whispered voices coming from right outside the tent, whispers he quickly recognised as his father and grandmother's.

"... that it should be her. She should be the next Olo'eykte. That she is the most deserving of it, has been since she was young. It took a long time to see it for myself, but... I don't know. Maybe he.."

...Olo'eykte? You? Neteyam couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't believe how quickly his father was willing to replace him, how quickly he considered you better and more worthy of the title than his own son, than the rightful heir. You were both 12, for Eywa's sake. How could a decision be made so early? Neteyam felt tears gather in his eyes, the betrayal's sting more painful than a kali'weya's, and yet, still, a part of him knew this already. A part of him couldn't find it in him to be upset, because you were better. And you deserved to lead, you deserved to fulfil your destiny, that was made for greatness, made for the songs and the ballads, made for history.

"It's Neteyam's birthright, Jakesulli. It wouldn't be right, no matter how worthy the girl is. What about a mateship? They have been inseparable for years anyhow."

"Ah, she would never want to be Tsa'hik. And she wouldn't be good at it anyway. Besides..." the silence felt like it dragged on forever, and he clung on to it, afraid of what was waiting for him at the end of it.

"I mentioned it to her. She said she... doesn't want to mate with Neteyam. That she couldn't ever love him the way a mate would. She was... very adamant about it."

As Neteyam looked into your eyes, those words forever embedded in his psyche, playing in his ears like a cacophony of sounds that rattled him every time he saw you, even so many years later, solidified in him by all the times you continued to hurt him, continued flaunting your relationships and skills to him, your connection and closeness to his own family, that sometimes he felt like he didn't belong in anymore, like he was the adoptive one... he was reminded that every time, it hurt, every day, it broke him further, and those eyes that were once his guidepost and the reason he got up in the morning, were now empty and bleak, and enough to make anger bubble in his soul once more, until it drowned everything else, until it was all that was left.

I don't need a reason to keep on dreamin' That we don't lose, yeah what's the use? I don't need a reason to keep on dreamin' That I can win this stupid thing called love

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 1 year

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✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 7: Stray Kids bias wrecker - Jisung✨️

The Heat

AN: We have reached the end of my milestone celebration! Thank you to all of you, new and old, for your support. You have no idea how much it all means to me <3 Time to end this celebration off with my other other arch nemesis lol.

Synopsis: When your roommate brings home a bag of strange cookies, you two don't think much of it. Assuming whoever sold them to him was lying about them containing an aphrodisiac. You both quickly come to realise that you were very, very incorrect.

Heads up: Han Jisung x Fem! Reader, Roommates AU, dub-con elements (because Reader and Jisung are under the influence of an aphrodisiac, but they do genuinely want each other), mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, nipple play (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, Reader cries a little, Jisung cums pretty quickly, mentions of multiple orgasms, unrealistic sex (Jisung cums more than once and remains hard), hypersensitivity, some usage of a petname for Reader and a barely there praise kink (f. receiving).

Word count: 3658

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

"You'll never guess what I found!" Your roommate yells, all but slamming the front door open in his excitement.

"Hello to you too, Jisung," you respond dryly but, your curiosity is piqued. Angling yourself to get a better view of the brown paper bag in his grasp from your position on the couch.

"Sorry, hi. I'm just really hyped," he responds sheepishly, plopping down beside you, "but look!"

You're not sure what you were expecting, but a bag filled with cookies certainly wasn't it. "Uh, they look good?" You offer, not really understanding what makes these cookies in particular so special. The little pink hearts on them are very cute, you'll give them that much.

"No, no listen. These aren't just any old cookies. Minho and I stumbled across this kind of weird looking bakery, and the lady who runs it said these cookies are mixed with some really potent aphrodisiacs,"

Yeah, this is not how you anticipated your Saturday to unfold at all.

"So... you bought them from an apparently really shady bakery and just trusted what that lady said?"

Your words take a few seconds to register in his mind. Big eyes blinking at you owlishly. If he hadn't just admitted to something so stupid, you'd reach over to squish his cheeks because of how endearing he looks right now.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

It takes a great deal of effort on your part not to drag your hand down your face.

"Minho should really stop enabling all of your impulsive purchases and ideas,"

"To be fair, he was the one who dragged me into the bakery. I just happened to stumble across these," he says, motioning to the bag now staring at the two of you on your coffee table.

"My point still stands. Why did you buy so many anyway? Why not just get a few if you just wanted to test them out?"

"They were running a special," he mutters.

"I didn't realise you were this naive. I have some magic beans to sell you if you're interested," you tease, grinning as the tips of his ears redden.

"Ha ha ha. Very funny. They weren't that pricey anyway so, luckily I didn't spend much," he reaches for the bag, fishing out a cookie.

"Woah hey, what're you doing?"

"Eating the cookies I bought? Like you said, I'm sure they're a scam, so I might as well eat them since I spent money on them," he responds with a shrug. Your anxiety building watching him take his first bite.

"Oh, they're pretty good, actually. Want one?" He asks, turning his big brown eyes onto you. Now, how are you supposed to say no when he looks at you with those eyes?

"If these are poisoned or something, I swear I'm going to haunt you," you respond, and your roommate takes that as a green light.

"We'll both be ghosts then. I don't think ghosts can haunt each other," he says with a laugh, the brushes of his fingers against yours feeling like electricity as he hands you a cookie.

You choose to essentially shove the cookie in your mouth to avoid dealing with that particular can of worms. Jisung was right. They are delicious. Flavours of strawberry with faint hints of chocolate caressing your taste buds. Maybe they were worth turning into a ghost for if the worst comes to pass, you think.

"See? They're good, right?"

"Yeah, I can't even lie. That's one of the best cookies I've ever had. If we survive this, you should show this oddball bakery to me,"

"Oh," and you immediately regret admitting to him that you actually liked it, "how the tables have turned. What was that you were saying earlier about reckless purchases?"

Rolling your eyes, you stand up in order to get ready for bed. Jisung's smugness more than enough motivation to finally get your ass off the couch.

"Goodnight Jisung," you say, waving him off.

"Goodnight," you don't even need to turn around to see the smirk stretched across his face. You can hear it clear as day.

Everything feels like it's on fire when you wake up the following morning.

You're absolutely drenched in sweat and your throat is beyond dry. Perhaps the oddest realisation of all is that you're wet. As in, obscenely so. Your thighs are smeared in it and you're almost certain it's leaked all the way onto your bedsheets.

What the hell?

It takes you some very long minutes to blink your bleary eyes open. Your muddled mind working a mile a minute to try and make sense of all of this. Last night hadn't been that hot so, there should be no reason why you're this sweaty. Plus, from what you can remember at the very least, you hadn't touched yourself before turning in for the night. So why in the world are you this wet? And more than that, why does it hurt so much more than usual?

'What is going on?' Is that question that echoes through your skull as you join the world of the conscious. You're due for a shower and a change of sheets, you think. You feel pretty disgusting at the moment, and a shower might just be what you need to help calm you down. An ice cold one.

On perhaps the strangest morning you've experienced to date, you don't expect to bump into a shirtless Jisung with a towel wrapped around his slim waist.

You've seen your roommate without a shirt more times than you can count at this point. However, it's never made you feel like this before.

The throbbing gets worse. So, so much worse. Warmth flooding your face when you feel yourself gush onto the fresh pair of sleeping shorts you'd just changed into. Jisung is an attractive man. A very, very attractive man. You've had no qualms with admitting that in the most private parts of your mind and on nights when images of him between your thighs are the only thoughts that can push you off of the proverbial edge.

But it's never been like this.

"Morning," he says gruffly. God, that just made it worse. If you weren't too lost in your own spiral, you'd notice his blown out pupils and the glassy quality to his eyes. How they shamelessly rake over your body. How he has to adjust his hold on his towel so you don't notice how hard he is. How hard he's been for what feels like hours now.

"Morning," you squeak back in response once your higher order functions return to you. Practically slamming the bathroom door in his face and, sagging against it once you're alone.

What is wrong with you?

Taking a shower was minimally successful. At least you're no longer drenched in various body fluids, but you still feel as though there's molten lava coursing through your veins. Everything is just so hot.

Touching yourself while you were in there didn't help either. If anything, it only added fuel to the inferno that seems hell bent on swallowing you whole from the inside out. Maybe you're just in desperate need of a good fuck. It has been longer than you care to admit since you last slept with someone. That Changbin guy was nice and ridiculously attractive. Perhaps you should give him a call.

You're disrupted from your thoughts when you hear a tentative knock at your bedroom door. Jisung. Oh no, you're not sure if you can handle looking at him right now, let alone being in the same room with him. Your mind has been replaying the encounter from this morning over and over again. Even that hadn't helped you cum in a satisfactory way. Which is insane because thinking about him works 11 times out of 10. You must really need to be fucked.

However, you're not a child. You're not going to avoid your roommate and your friend just because you're a little (okay, maybe it's more than a little) more sexually frustrated than usual. You're more mature than that.

"Come in," you say, cringing at the hoarseness in your voice.

To your relief (and mild disappointment), Jisung has a shirt on. Though, the way the tank top leaves his broad shoulders and biceps completely uncovered isn't helping the to soothe the squirming of your insides.

Jisung looks exactly how you feel: like a total wreck. His hair is in dissary and sticking to his damp forehead and his cheeks are flushed with an appealing dust of pink. You wonder if this is what he'd look like underneath you.

"What's up?" You croak, looking at your bedroom door as though it's the most interesting object you've ever seen. He may have a shirt on, but you're not sure you can handle looking at him for too long right now. For both of your sakes.

"Does it feel hot as fuck for you today too? I don't know what's been going on, but I already took two showers today, and I still feel like I might pass out from heat stroke," he says, making himself comfortable on your bed. While not out of the oddinary, having him so close to you is sending your barely coherent mind into panic. The desire to straddle his incredibly welcoming looking lap clawing at your insides.

"Yeah, it does feel a lot hotter than usual today. Maybe there's a ventilation issue or something in our place? Because I checked the weather and it the temperature for the day is on the cooler side, funnily enough," you respond, wiping some excess sweat off of your forehead. So, you're not the only one who seems to feel...off, weird even today. Whatever is happening appears to be affecting Jisung too.

"Really? That's so weird. I thought maybe there was a heat wave or something. I don't know how much more of this I can take," he sighs, throwing himself down. The bottom of his tank top exposing a sliver of his toned abdomen. Fuck.

Before your mind can assault you with fantasies of covering his abs in your wetness, that's when it hits you. Those damn cookies. They have to be the reason you're like this and that you suspect Jisung is experiencing something very similar.

"Jisung, I think I know why we're feeling so hot right now," you rush out, fingers absentmindedly toying with your blanket.

"Really? Well, I'm all ears," he responds, turning to give you all of his attention.

Fuck, how did you not realise it sooner? Jisung's eyes are almost black with how dilated his pupils are. Desire flashing like a neon sign on his face.

You really can't afford to soak through another pair of shorts right now. Focus.

"I think the cookies - I think the cookies weren't a scam," you mutter, hugging your legs to your chest. Your face is so warm that you're surprised the heat from it isn't radiating off of you.

He just keeps looking at you. You know the moment your words sink in because his face quickly shifts from a pretty, pink flush to an almost scarlet red. His mouth opening and closing as he grapples with what to even say to you.

"What? What makes you think that?" It's his turn to squeak and avoid your gaze. Seemingly fascinated with your ceiling.

"What else could it be? We both had them yesterday, and now we're sweating buckets and -" You cut yourself off. Jisung doesn't need to know you've been wet all day. You should probably keep that part to yourself.

However, the universe is determined to make you suffer, "And what?" He asks, meeting your eyes briefly before turning away. His teeth toying with his bottom lip.

"It-It's fine. Don't worry about it, but, um just trust me. I really think those cookies are the reason we're like this," You stutter out, studiously ignoring the lecherous thoughts creeping back into your mind.

Jisung doesn't say anything at first. Just laying there before sitting up once more, his hand ruffling his hair, "I wasn't kidding when I said I don't know much of this I can take. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

That you can relate to. Intimately.

"The solution is pretty obvious," you joke in an attempt to lighten the thick tension in the air. It almost makes it difficult to even breathe properly.

Your words have the opposite effect, however. Startled, fiery brown eyes meeting your own. Jisung looks like he's seriously considering it, and you're not sure whether your stomach knots itself in hope or anxiety.

"Jisung, I was-"

"Do you want to?"

Now it's your turn to stare at him in stunned silence. Probably looking like an absolute buffoon gaping at him. Is he joking? Is this his way of getting back at you?

"Wha-What?" Comes your brilliant response.

"Do you want to?" He repeats, both looking and sounding deathly serious.

"You don't have to do this, you know. If you don't want to. We can j-"

"I want to," he interrupts again, his cheeks darkening, but he doesn't falter in his words.

Your very hot, very kind, very funny roommate is offering himself on a silver platter. Even if you weren't so wet you could die, you'd be an idiot to say no.

"Okay," you whisper, meeting his eyes head on. Your heart thundering against your chest as you watch him shift closer to you. Barely any space left between the two of you. You're not sure who moves first, and it ultimately doesn't matter because after months of fantasising about it, Jisung's mouth is finally on yours.

Maybe it's the cookies, but your first kiss isn't gentle or slow or sweet. It's fierce and messy and desperate from the very beginning. Your hands not sure where they want to settle themselves. Alternating between pulling on his hair, pulling the most delicious whimpers from him or steadying yourself on his muscular shoulders while you two fall deeper into each other.

The gasp that leaves your mouth when Jisung nestles himself between your thighs is loud and throaty. He's hard. So hard and so hot that you can feel the heat radiating from him even through your respective clothing. Jisung wastes no time in covering your throat and jaw in sloppy, uncoordinated kisses while he shallowly grinds his erection against you. Greedily searching for any semblance of relief he can possibly find.

"Ji-Jisung," you moan, arching into his touch when one of his hands gives your breast an experimental squeeze. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he groans against your neck between licks and nips, thumbing at your already hard nipple through your shirt.

"Re-Really?" You manage to ask through the fog. "Really," he responds, impatiently shoving your shirt up and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. To say you were unprepared for the sensation of being enveloped in his wet, warm mouth would be putting it lightly. You're so much more sensitive than usual. It might be the cookies, or it might just be Jisung. Probably a dangerous mixture of the two.

You've never cum just from having your breasts played with but, there's a first time for everything if the increasing wetness staining your shorts and inner thighs is any indication. Jisung, for his part, is content to spend hours with your tits in his face and in his mouth. Licking, sucking and fondling to his heart's content while he desperately humps your thigh. The dream, really.

He's about to whine when you tug him off of you, but he's shut up by your tongue being shoved down his throat. Your hands frantically pushing his tank top up and off of him until his bare torso is free for you to explore. Smiling into him when he whimpers at the way your nails rake across his skin. A pitchy 'fuck' greeting your ears when you accidentally brush one of his nipples. Oh. Interesting.

Kissing and touching him is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Jisung is fantastic with his mouth, and his firm chest is incredibly fun to explore. Figuring out which places garner you groans or whimpers or whines. Which ones make him grind into harder. Which leads to the other hand. You're so soaked and painfully empty, and kissing him isn't helping to soothe any of those flames.

"Jisung," you mutter against his mouth, your hands ghosting over the waistband of his sweats. Delighting in the way he shudders above you and his abdominal muscles jump under your barely there touches.

"Ye-Yeah?"

"I want you to fuck me, please," you whine into his ear, lightly biting down on his lobe, "it hurts."

Jisung exhales a very long sigh against your throat, "You're going to kill me."

A breathless laugh bubbles out of you when he pulls away to shove his sweats down. Any trace of humour vanishes quickly when his cock smacks against his toned stomach. He's so hard that it looks painful, flushed an angry shade of red, and glistening with pre-cum. You can't help but stare. Your walls clamping down harshly around nothing.

"I thought you wanted to get fucked?" He asks with an arrogant grin on his stupidly handsome face.

"Shut up," you respond, lifting your hips and letting your shorts join the heap of clothing on your bedroom floor. It's your turn to feel a little smug when Jisung's eyes zero in on your pussy. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life, and you're too far gone to have any semblance of self-consciousness or embarrassment.

Jisung returns to his position between your thighs before you can fire out any quips, his cock nudging your entrance causing your head to spin and a soft moan to slip from you. "Stop teasing," you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging to his broad back.

"So-Sorry," is all the warning you receive before he very gradually starts sinking into you. god, it's never felt like this. Ever. With anyone else. Tears accumulate in your eyes, and a few roll down your face with every inch he pushes into you.

"Are you okay?" He asks lowly, kissing your cheek repeatedly and halting his movements.

"Yeah. Yes, Ji, I'm fine. Please don't stop," you practically moan, clawing into his back when he mumbles a curse and continues.

You can barely think, let alone breathe when he's fully sheathed inside of you. His cock pulsing inside of you violently and Jisung quivering above you, hushed moans of your name and whimpers being pressed into your shoulder. A whine hitting your ears when you squirm a little and tighten your hold around his waist.

"Wait, fuck. Wait, don't move," he moans, his hands grounding himself with his hold on your pillowy thighs. You struggle to comprehend his words. Everything is so muddled and overwhelming, and he just feels so fucking good, and he hasn't even moved yet.

At first, you assume Jisung's increase in sounds of pleasure and throbbing inside of you is just because he's as overwhelmed as you are. Every single nerve feeling like it's engulfed in flames. However, when his strained apologies register, you realise he came. Hot spurts of his cum flooding your eager pussy and open-mouthed kisses being pressed into your shoulder between apologies.

"Ji-Jisung,"

"I'm fuck I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to. It just happened. Fuck you must think I'm so pathetic-"

"Jisung, stop. It-It's okay. That was really hot actually," you mutter, and you mean it. If anything, you're flattered that you managed to make him cum so fast.

"What? Really?" He asks, blinking down at him. His pretty eyes beyond fucked out and sweat dotting his face. God, he's so pretty. Your pussy clenching involuntarily.

"Yea- Wait, are you still hard?" You ask, only realising now that he's still nestled deeply inside of you despite the cum that's gradually starting to dribble out of you.

He looks as shocked as you. Seemingly not realising that his own cock hadn't softened in the slightest. "Holy shit," he breathes, thrusting into you experimentally, drawing a whimper and your nails biting into his back in reaction.

"Remind me to go back to that bakery," he utters into your throat. Giving you little time to adjust before picking up his pace considerably. Between your wetness and his cum, he fucks into you easily. Your combined noises of pleasure echoing throughout your bedroom while you two lose yourselves in one another.

You've been teetering on the edge for what feels like ages. All it takes is for Jisung to find your sweet spot for your eyes to roll into the back of your head and your back to arch into him. Your lovely, lovely roommate fucking you through it all and exploiting your newly discovered weakness.

"That's it, baby," he groans into your ear, his hands holding you firmly in place and making you take each and every thrust he gives you, "You're taking me so well. You're doing so good."

Those words are going to be replaying in your mind for the rest of your life.

Your mind is utterly blank as the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced wreaks your body. Your thighs shaking violently, and your hands holding onto Jisung for dear life while you tighten around him. Fuck. Fuck. You're so full, and it's so much, but not enough at the same time.

"More, please. Jisung, please. I want more," you cry out, not caring in the slightest about the pathetic, desperate edge to your voice. All you're capable of thinking about is cumming on his cock over and over again and, him filling you with his cum until it's still leaking out of you days later.

"I've got you, baby," he whispers, the pet name he's grown a fondness for causing butterflies to arise in your stomach.

"We're far from being finished."

#han jisung smut #jisung smut #stray kids smut #han smut #1k followers celebration day 7 #1k followers celebration #1k followers milestone

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shygirl4991 · 3 months

Text

Next Step With You Prologue High Rollers of affection

Cover mad by @lizaluvsthis do not repost! A Reboot of the next step! Next chapter Summary: SMG4 and SMG3 relationship changed after realizing their feelings in WOTFI 2023, now together the pair can take the next step together. That is until a strange gift arrives on SMG3's birthday making him face his demons from his past.

Tags: Fluff, Boyfriends, Love Confession, Watch Wotfi 2023 before reading, first love, mention of igloo

SMG4 was giggling as he played club penguin, it was surprisingly a normal day given yesterday SMG3 snap after they failed to stop Mario from taking his notebook. Knowing Mario as long as he has there was no way he was keeping the notebook, given how peaceful it is, the notebook should be back in Three’s hand in no time. He thought too soon as the door to his room flys open to reveal a panicked SMG3 “SMG4!! MARIO STOLE MY NOTEBOOK! I NEED YOUR HELP GETTING IT BACK!” he starts to wave a photo of the notebook at him.

He was facing Three in his computer chair, annoyed and surprised at the fact that Mario kept his notebook “Pfft It's just a notebook, get a new one.” Four wasn’t sure what the big deal was. He knew it meant a lot to the man but losing the notebook doesn't mean the world will end. Three walks in the room visibly nervous “It’s not just any notebook it's got secrets,” he drops to his knees making Four get nervous “Including…” he looks around “Secrets about you and me, and certain events in an igloo.” SMG4's face goes pale as the hidden memory unlocks. The need for food, how they both needed warmth though Three was stubborn and rather die there then cuddle him for warmth. They both thought they were going to die, with this thought in four’s mind he looks at SMG3 he did find him attractive so why the hell not. The event that follows haunts the pair as they agreed to never talk about it again. Remember everything he screams jumping out of the chair “WE GOTTA GET THAT NOTEBOOK!”

After that he runs out of the room to ask a casual question to Melony leaving Three to nervously sit in the room, seeing the man return he runs up to him grabbing his overall straps “What did you learn?” Slowly pulling away from the man he goes to sit on his computer chair “So Melony told me she noticed Mario taking something to some billionaire tycoon which has to be the notebook,” he points to a photo that Melony took of the location “and they both are inside this brand new casino. Its exact location? The CEO office.” SMG4 starts to type something on his computer, using the software Melony used to hack the cameras he connects to one in a safe showing them drilling into the notebook. He was warned that the place was tough to hack and not to stay on the cameras for long, shame they can't hack the cameras down would have made this situation easier. Seeing the drills on his notebook Three chuckles “That’s right, that idiot Mario still needs my secret key to open it!”

Four nods wondering what the key could be as he starts to type in the program “Well..it's not just Mario that's behind this…he’s too stupid to do this on his own.” as he switches cameras Three could only watch in shock that Marty was the one truly behind everything. Why a living cardboard meme that Mario made wants SMG3 notebook Four had no idea, given how badly it wants in the notebook it has to be something huge. “MARTY!? THAT PIECE OF CARDBOARD CRAP IS BEHIND THIS?!?” glaring at the screen he takes out dynamite from his pocket. He throws the dynamite in the air and catches it with a smirk causing SMG4 to smile without noticing “Lets just break in and take it then!” after that he starts to run off only for Four to grab him “Slooow down cowboy.” he throws Three down getting a growl from the man. SMG4 then points to another camera view on the screen “We can't just go in there guns blazing. This place is heavily guarded, I'm talking about state of the art security that will blow our asses up the moment we get detected.” he wanted this notebook back fast but they had to play their cards right. SMG3 slowly blinks looking at the picture on the screen “SMG4..this is just a picture of Mario.”

Four nods pointing at Three “Exactly! So we’ll need to be sneaky and cunning about this! Who knows what that stupid fat Italian has up his sleeve.” After hours planning and Three fighting about Fours idea on letting his subscribers pick how to get his notebook back it was the day of the heist. SMG3 smirks, fixing his fedora and tie “Alright looking fresh!” he winks and snaps his fingers making Fours stomach flip. Something that has been happening ever since the pair became friends, he wasn't sure why it only happens around Three after days of thinking on the subject he assumed it had to do with their link and lived on ignoring the way his heart would race when being near the man. With their spy rizz outfits on they walk to the casino, SMG4 was smiling and waving at the crowd not noticing the loving look Three was giving him. You could ask Three why he was looking at the man like that and you can bet his answer will have nothing to do with how charming he found the man's outfit to be. They walk into the casino with no issue, SMG3 smiles getting ready for the mission only to hear someone humming. Turning he sees SMG4 sneaking as he hums the theme from Mission Impossible, letting out a sigh as he walks up to the man smacking him “Dude, stop it.” four frowns and looks down agreeing to stop.

“Hey!” the pair jumps hearing Mario’s yelling, they turn to see Mario checking everyone coming into the casino. He then pointed at his brother demanding answers, the pair watch as Mario lets Luigi in only to burn him alive for letting out a cough. They slowly turn to each other, nervous about what they just saw before Three shakes himself out of it, they had a mission no time to get cold feet. “Alright, what the hell are we doing here?” hearing Three’s voice, Four looks at their watch to see what was voted. They both nod at the result and put on clown masks getting ready to scare the Italian man, they sneak up to him and start making loud sounds to scare him. Mario slams the table making the men nervous as he gets closer to them as he checks them both out then focuses on SMG4 “Your color schemes look awfully familiar..”

The more Mario stares at Four the more anxious Three feels, then he sees Mario start to drool and reach out to Four. He wasn't sure what was going on with Mario but he was sure it was something stupid and he had to stop him “THATS IT WERE WALKING THROUGH!” he pushes Four causing the mask to fall off. They all stay silent staring at the mask before SMG4 turns to mario “uhh i can explain..” Mario screams, surprising the men “AHHHH A SCARY CLOWN!” SMG4 frowns seeing his best friend run from him, Three throws the mask off “Hey works for me, lets go.” he was going to walk away before four grabbed him “Am…am i really that horrific to look at?” Three felt himself blush as four looked up at him with puppy eyes. He looks away sighing “You look like how you always did, a shit head with a huge ego now can we go?” Four pouts at the comment before moving forward.

They stand in the main lobby looking around to see the cameras in the lobby. “Great…Mario must be surveilling the place intensely, we have to shut off those security cameras.” they nod as they look at the watch. Their eyes go wide seeing the vote that won “Uh heh maybe the watch counted the votes wrong,” Four smacks the watch hoping the choice will change. SMG3 sighs seeing the panic four was going through, he looks around and smirks as he walks over to a booth asking for a song change for the lobby. Four sighs finally admitting defeat then starts to think “Do a sexy dance? How do I even pull that off? Is there a meme dance that could come off as sexy?”

That's when Three grabs his arm pulling him close to his body, SMG4's face turns completely red seeing how close they are “T-Three?” the man moves Fours hand on his shoulder while holding the other one “Your dumb subscribers did the vote lets get this over with so we can get my notebook, follow my lead!” He then placed his hand on Fours lower back causing the man’s heart to start racing. SMG3 makes sure that Four was pressed against his body before moving, Four did his best to follow the steps that the other man was doing.Then tango music started to play making Fours eyes go wide “How is the tango a sexy dance?” SMG3 kept moving to the music then smirks “That idiot seems to get off with us being gay, so if he catches us this close dancing he will freak and knowing that idiot he will end up breaking something!” Four nods understanding where his partner was coming from. As they dance, Three picks up speed as Four attempts to keep focus on his steps, his mind starting to fill with strange thoughts. As he dances his eyes slowly drop to SMG3 lips those thoughts start to play louder in his head, he wants to kiss the man right there and the thought causes him to miss a step.

Mario catches the dance on the camera and zooms in his eyes pops out as he sees the pair, he knows he should have hit the alarm but the close dance made him want to cheer the two in hopes they finally get together. Seeing Four missing the step Three takes the chance to do a final hit on Mario, dipping SMG4 he leans in close, pressing his forehead against the other man making it look like they kissed on the cameras. Four held his breath at how close they were, while Three was looking into Four’s eyes. A strange feeling hit them both, they were on a mission they had to get the notebook and yet Four couldn't help slowly moving his hand to the back of Three’s head. It was the perfect moment to kiss each other, something they both wanted at the moment, only to be broken out of the spell hearing Mario scream in excitement and blowing up all the cameras. SMG3 lifted up Four and smiled seeing that the mission was a success “Great! Let's go!” SMG4 watches Three walks ahead acting as nothing has happened, was he the only one that felt that spark. He follows Three, his thoughts filled with what happened. He takes out his phone and starts to search his feelings. Distracted Four agreed to a plan that Three made without knowing what it was about, his eyes widened as he read what the results showed “A deep romantic connection..me and Three?” he looks up to realize he missed what he had to do and Three was now being taken by Swag and Chris. Four panicked and was going to save Three only to feel something heavy hit him, knocking him out cold.

He opens his eyes and look around the room confused only to see Mario pop up in front of him “Hello mother fucker!” seeing the plumber he starts to scream which woke up Three making him also scream. He turns to see Three was tied down, panic starts to build up inside of him thinking of what they could do to the man. Mario chuckles as he approaches Three “Mario?? LET US GO DUDE!” He was hoping that his call out would bring the man back to him. Sadly the man he is growing a romantic attraction to was SMG3 “AND GIVE ME MY NOTEBOOK BACK YOU ASS!” Mario smirks at the tied up Three making Four wiggle against his restraints. “I’ve been waiting for this! We finally got them, didn't we Marty?” Marty sighs and agrees with Mario, he was annoyed that the plumber let them get away once and was lucky the spies got distracted. Mario turns his attention back to Three “Just give us the key to your notebook SMG3! We’ve tried everything but it wont open yet!” This was all Four's fault for searching on his phone, the guilt was eating him as he watched the scene play out in front of him. Three gives Four a soft look before gaining back his snarky personality “NEVER! I’ll never tell!”

Mario lets out a chilling laugh that caught both men's attention, he takes his phone out smirking, he hits play and starts showing cringe memes to Three. Their avatar knows them too well and had the perfect videos to make Three cringe, the more videos played the more he saw the man break to the point he started shedding tears “NOOO! HE CANT TAKE IT! LET HIM BE!” Mario grins as he pulls up one last video the moment SMG3 sees it he screams. Four’s eyes flicker yellow as he looks around the room “Come on four think of something worse than what SMG3 is dealing with right now!” he focuses on all the cringe he has seen on the internet till he shrivels up from it. Now free from the rope he runs towards Mario he can hear Three about to break “Hey ass!” catching Mario’s attention he throws Eggdog out, the pup attacks the plumber while he runs to untie Three. The moment he unties Three he starts to shout “IM FREE! IM FREE!” rolling his eyes he grabs the man pulling him off the table to run out of the room with Eggdog following.

As they leave room Three turns shaking Four “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU!?” Four frowns looking down, he starts to play with the button of his vest. “I was feeling strange so…i wanted to look up what was going on because it was distracting.” SMG3 lets four go and sighs giving him a quick look up and down before nodding “you seem fine now, just we are a team talk to me.” He didn't know what to do, Three was rarely this soft and now knowing the strange emotion he has been ignoring is he could feel his heart racing. Taking a deep breath he grabs Three's hand “If my viewers make the choices that land us in green, I have something I need to tell you.” They looked in each other's eyes, seeing how serious four looked the man nodded before they moved forward.

The pair were losing it after being chased by Mario and ending up in a game show forcing them to watch what happened to them in the igloo. After that the pair found Depresso and used him as a distraction to get ready to fight the plumber in which Three was surprised to see Four was good at fighting the avatar out without breaking a sweat. Now they opened the door and were standing across the safe with their prize. Three was going to walk only to be stopped by Four, he then pulls out baby powder and blows it revealing lasers in the room. “Yep, just as I expected! These lasers will probably explode if we touch them.” SMG3 looked at the bottle then back at Four “Why do you have baby powder?” SMG4 sighs “I have a sensitive ass!” with awkward nods they both turn to focus on the lasers. SMG4, seeing the results, smirks “Watch this!” SMG3 watched in awe as he watched the meme guardian front flip, avoiding all the lasers and making it to the other side. He hits the button and winks at his crush making Threes face red “What are you waiting for we got a notebook to save!”

That moment SMG3 wished he had his notebook to doodle the moment he saw, though he was sure those flips and wink will haunt his mind all day. They cheer getting into the safe only to be stopped by Marty and Mario, together with their meme power they manage to put a stop to the pair and grab the notebook. After more attempts by Marty and Mario to stop them, the pair escape and win the day with their watches landing on green. Four smiles seeing how happy Three was, then he looks at the watch nervously knowing what he has to do soon. Hours later they announced to the subscribers that thanks to them they saved the notebook, Three was so happy to get it back he started to smooch the book making Four giggle. After teasing SMG3 about why he was building a new evil lair right next to his castle he lets out a small yawn, who knew doing a heist could take so much out of you. “Speaking of cafes…I’m dead tired.” he gives his partner a small smile “Lets have some coffee.” For the first time since they have known each other things felt peaceful, maybe it was them both being drained from the heist or maybe this whole event brought them closer together. He remembers back a few weeks ago how SMG1 and two told them they had to get along in order for their powers to get stronger, all that event did was give him work to tell the world how they two weren't together due them being caught holding hands thanks to Marios gum.

SMG3 perks up hearing his words “Now we’re talkin!” walking together they sit on a pile of wood waiting to become a part of SMG3 cafe, SMG4 smiles looking at the sunset as SMG3 starts doing their coffee. They smile at each other doing a small cheer as they clink their

cups together and drink, as SMG4 enjoys the warmth of the coffee he notices SMG3 writing in his notebook with a huge smile "What are you writing?" he knew he wasn't going to get an answer but it wasn't going to hurt him to ask you never know what mood SMG3 is in.

He smirks and turns away "I'll never tell!" SMG3 makes sure the other cant see the drawing he is doing of them both with cups of coffee.

With a giggle he nods "Don't worry i wont push it," as he looks back at the sunset his heart starts to beat faster. This would be the perfect moment wouldn't it? He had to admit the closer they got the harder it was for him to keep his feelings in check. When he hears the notebook close he decides now is the time with one last gulp of the coffee he turns to SMG3 "You know...this heist got me thinking,”

SMG3 sips his coffee and stares at his partner "What that we should be full time spies, cause i'm not a fan of the idea of your fans telling me how to live my life," SMG4 shakes his head with a small chuckle "No, nothing like that...just we make a good team don't we?"

He keeps staring at SMG4 feeling confused on what was going on with the man next to him, seeing this SMG4 sighs feeling himself blush. "You know...people ship us together...and uh with all that's happened to us i started to wonder...." he had no idea what he was doing. Every TV show he has seen made confessions look easy, even Axol made it look sweet and easy with the manga he was making before everything.

SMG3's eyes go wide as he also starts to blush "Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden, idiot!!"

SMG4 closes his eyes "WHAT IF WE MAKE IT CANON!?"

Everything was dead silent, he was nervous to open his eyes to see how SMG3 was looking at him. Finally he hears a whisper "you....what?" Slowly he opened his eyes to see a stun SMG3, his face was as red as his eyes, it almost made SMG4 giggle for how cute it was to see him like that. "I..well i like you i figured it out today when we were on the heist, so i was wondering if maybe we can try...the next step?"

SMG4 started to get worried he broke the man for how long it took for him to move again, he watches as SMG3 stares at the floor then his notebook. His heart sank, did the guardian not feel the same as him?

SMG3 gets up and stands in front of him "Fine, i guess i...i like you too! But don't let it get to your head...Baka!"

SMG4 lights up, standing up and hugging him, ignoring the heat on his face, Three hugged his boyfriend back. They separated and gave each other a small smile before Four spoke up “Need a place to crash till the cafe is done..you can stay with me till then.” SMG3 looks at the castle then his hand thinking about the graveyard, staying here they both could figure out this new step easier then him in another location “Yeah that could work..but can we keep this thing with us on the down low not sure i'm ready for the idiots to learn about us.” with a nod they both slowly reach for each other's hand and let out nervous giggles. Now holding hands the pair walk into the castle to move SMG3 in,Little did they know a shadow was watching them from a distance growling at what they just saw.

2/6/24 date written

#smg4 #smg34 #smg3 #shygirl4991 #smg4 smg3 #lizaluv #smg43 #smg34 fanfiction #next step with you #fluff #angst #boyfriends #first love

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thecryptidart1st · 23 days

Note

In one of your posts you said that there were some songs you were gonna animate with some characters either from The Graveyard Shift or idk. Are there any animatics about that topic that you have started?

I have no animatics, but a butt ton of hyperphantasia, so this ask was an opportunity to draw out scenes that haunt my mind every day

For The Graveyard Shift in particular, I have ideas for the following songs (sorta in order from least to most unhinged and including spoilers for future TGS characters)

"Shit" by Bo Burnham

Probably most of Tom Cardy (Perception Check and Hey I Don't Work Here shown here)

"You Didn't Know" from Hazbin Hotel , bc Lute's line didn't need to go that hard but its burned into my memory at this point (also this animatic somehow evolved from its initial concept while working on this ask so now it's Rosemary and Gregory)

"We Don't Talk About Bruno", but Michael Afton is Bruno being talked by every other mascot horror because Sammy's looking for him

"Waiting In The Wings (Reprise)" from Tangled the Animated Series (this is actually the most serious bc it's actual character growth between Mike and Doug)

"Forklift Simulator" by Sbassbear (bc I base Mike's and Ethan's friendship and humor off of Game Grumps interactions)

and finally "Bring In the Love" by Dankmus, bc this stupid remix has been haunting me for the better part of half a year now and stupid sexy workout William won't leave me alone

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luveline · 2 years

Note

Can I request a shy!reader x Eddie, where reader is going to college and gets a small apartment, but she asks eddie to move in with her. But she is really nervous about it? Thanks

ty for ur request! i hope this is okay ♡ shy!fem!reader | 1.1k words

The first time Eddie had brought you into the city to see your new apartment, you'd wanted him to live here with you.

Even now, with a moving box in his ring-heavy hands and his hair falling into his face after yet another walk up the three flights of stairs, he looks like he's meant to live here.

"Where do you want this?"

It's the last of your bedroom things. Eddie hasn't noticed, but you've left a lot of room. Enough room for his things.

"Baby," he drawls when you don't answer, almost singing. "My arms are gonna fall off."

You take the box out of his hands and drop it on the bed. It's busted open. Right on top is your most beloved photo frame, a sweet picture of you and Eddie outside of a gig with his arm thrown over your shoulder. You can remember the moment. It had been dark. He'd smelled amazing, and right after the photo he'd kissed your cheek and your nose and the corner of your mouth.

You set it on your nightstand.

Eddie creeps up behind you. "What a handsome guy."

You turn toward him. Strange to be shy with him so far down the line but his nearness and the question you're struggling to ask both feel heavy. "He is pretty handsome."

"You're totally flirting with me right now, and I need you to know that it's working."

"Yeah?" you ask, neck bent to watch him from over your shoulder.

He slides his arms down your front and pulls you this chest. "So working."

You let yourself melt into him. Your eyes close. You take a few deep breaths, about to ask him the all important question, but just as you open your mouth Eddie interrupts you.

"I'm gonna miss you like crazy," he says. His confession is weighted; he sounds really, really sad. You think that you'd feel the same way at the prospect of not seeing him. Instead, the worry about asking him to move in has haunted you day in and day out for weeks.

"Eddie…"

"I don't know how to be away from you."

You scramble to hug his arms where they've wrapped around your chest. For a moment the only sound is your hands working over his arms as you try to comfort him.

"Will you miss me?" he asks.

"Eddie," you say, turning to him, "don't worry, I-"

"Don't worry?" He looks a little hurt. "We're about to be- I haven't been this far away from you since I met you, sweet thing."

You move the hair from his face very gently before spreading your fingertips across the nape of his neck and forcing him to angle his head down.

Your breath hitches. It's now or never.

"Teddy," your murmur, looking between his eyes nervously. You can't choose which one to focus on, both so big and brown. "I know it's far away. I know that this is a long way from Hawkins, but I don't want us to not be together-"

"You're not getting rid of me that easily." He scowls at the idea of a break up, and that's the last push that you need to finally make yourself ask.

You move your hand to his cheek. "I thought you could come and live here with me."

His scowl softens.

"I…" You move out of his arms and almost trip over a box of things to show him the closet. "I made sure there's room for you. Actually, I've been trying to ask you for weeks, it's stupid to ask now, you'd have to move all your stuff and everything and it's gas money for no reason. And it's far away from Wayne, and your friends. But I want us to live together. I love you." You swallow down your embarrassment. "You know that."

He doesn't say anything.

"Or you don't have to." You look down at your shoes, heart pounding in your ears and the world's worst sinking feeling in your stomach. "I know it's a lot to ask, and- Eddie, what- oh my god, put me down!"

You're being dramatic – he hasn't exactly lifted you up, he's only hugging you so hard that you've been forced on tiptoes. You cling to him and giggle madly as he bends you backwards, far enough that your back clicks.

"Are you messing with me?" he asks, sounding very happy.

"No, I'm serious! I want you to live with me," you say, just as ecstatic.

"Why would you wait until today to ask me?" He's almost shouting, his eyes lit with a smile.

"Because I thought you'd say no!"

"Why would you think that?"

You don't get a chance to answer him. He guides you back onto the naked mattress and sets about plastering you in small kisses, the ticklish kind that multiply your giggles by a thousand. He cups your face in both hands and moves up to kiss your smiling lips quickly.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his thumbs stroking your cheeks.

"I'm more than sure. I wanted to ask you ages ago, and-"

You're cut off again by kisses. Every time he presses down on you a laugh bubbles up to meet him.

You needle your arm around his waist. For a while, you can't laugh or talk or even breathe. There's only Eddie's lips against yours, his soft hair brushing your cheeks.

After kisses he's all planning. He'll drive home tonight. He'll pack. He'll be back here by tomorrow evening, and then it's just you and him against the world for the foreseeable future. He's so happy he's pausing between words to play with your hair, the two of you shoulder to shoulder on the bare mattress and staring at your brand new ceiling with twin expressions of content.

"I can't believe you left half your closet empty for me," he says.

You smile sheepishly. "I kind of decided you were gonna move in with me before I asked."

"Oh, you'd decided, had you?"

You know he's teasing you but you're a hundred percent serious when you turn your head to his and say, "I don't know how to be away from you."

He cringes at your parroting his earlier words. "Okay. I sounded like a lovesick loser."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

He kisses the tip of your nose. "No, I guess not."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #fem!reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things

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tonowarii · 1 year

Text

Young and Dumb, with a Broken Arm

Pairing: Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x GN! Human! Reader

Requested?: Yes

Summary: A tale of you and Lo'ak's shenanigans, but this time, it ended up with you supporting a broken arm.

Word count: 2.0k

Warning/s: graphic description of injury, slight angst bc bro its lo'ak, swearing, hurt/comfort, but fluff towards the end!

Note: I truly believe this was supposed to be just a funny little one shot but I spilled a little bit of angst onto this one 😶

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

"I bet you can't climb a tree faster than me."

"I bet you can't jump down from this branch on your feet."

"I bet you—"

It has always been a game of bets and pranks between you and Lo’ak growing up.

You two were considered partners in crime, not seeing the otber without one following close by.

You two were always up to shenanigans that ended up Jake scolding Lo’ak around two to three times a week.

Lo’ak would get scolded on about bringing you in to his reckless ideas, putting you in danger, while you watched to the side as Lo’ak suffered Jake’s wrath.

You didn’t have anyone to scold you, technically, your adopted parents were back in the lab and they often had little to none news of what you were doing out and about with the Sully family.

Yet there was no stopping the two of you.

You had also grown to play pranks on each other, one time you had Lo’ak’s bow super glued to its place that when he went to grab it, and when it wasn’t budging, he pulled on it with all his force that he fell straight onto his ass. After that scenario leaving his butt sore, he could hear you laughing from the outside.

He retaliated by hiding your quiver of your own handmade arrows.

It took you a whole week of pestering Lo’ak and when he finally had enough, he retrieved them from behind his bed. Which earned him a smack on the (lower) back from you.

Now at present day, you were bound to doing something stupid again.

“Look, trust me, mom taught dad this one.”

Lo’ak says, looking out off the edge of the cliff towards the huge green leaves that sprung from the huge trees on opposite sides.

“Yeah, that looks like a quick death to me.” You reply, stepping to look out of the edge yourself.

Lo’ak huffs, placing his bow behind him. He looked like he was getting ready to jump.

“When have my calculations ever been wrong?” Lo’ak looks down to ask you, a smirk forming on his face.

“Well…” You say in thought, looking up.

“Shut up, that was one time.” He spoke.

You laughed.

“Come on, are you really living if you’re not trying this out? Or are you just being a wuss?” Lo’ak teased. He surely knows how to get on your nerves.

“Oh, you’re on, forest boy.” You accept.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Lo’ak cheered. He then gets himself ready, adjusting his bow behind him and backing away to gain momentum.

“But if you die, I’m taking your toruk stuff toy.” You say to him.

“Pfft, watch me, human.” He rolls his eyes at you. Then he breathes out before running and jumping of the edge, his body now facing the ground as he fell.

You ran over to the edge and watched, watching how Lo’ak gracefully switched between leaf to leaf, slowing down his fall as he successfully plops to the ground on his feet.

You knit your brows as Lo’ak yelped, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through him.

To be honest, you hadn’t done this before.

“(Y/N)! Come on!” Lo’ak shouts at you from below. “Just like what I did!”

Oh, the things you’d do for this boy.

You didn’t have your bow with you today, so you just braced yourself, backing up the same as Lo’ak did.

Eywa, if I fall to my death, please reincarnate me into anything that can haunt Lo’ak for the rest of his life

You prayed with a slight chuckle.

Or even reincarnate me into an avatar, that sounds cool.

“(Y/N)! Did you finally back out?” Lo’ak’s voice stopped your thoughts.

“Like hell I did!” You shout back at him.

Breathing out, you ran with all your might and jumped.

You did what you saw, and at first, you were successful after a few leaves.

But then everything went downhill on the bottom half.

You concentrated on moving your body from side to side that you had failed to notice a looped vine on one of the leaves, that when you landed on it, your feet had fit the exact loop.

Your foot got stuck, making you lose your progress as you panicked, failing to reach the opposite leaf, making you almost hover a few feet up from the ground.

And that’s when the vine snapped.

Your eyes widened, thinking first to prevent your mask from taking the fall as your body was quickly reaching the ground.

“Shit! (Y/N)!!” You hear Lo’ak scream as you flipped to your side, hoping the mask doesn’t break.

And you hit the ground hard. With a cracking sound.

“Fuck, fuck!” Lo’ak swore, running over to you, flipping you onto your back as you had your eyes closed.

Lo’ak, in a panic, lifted you into his arms, immediately going to check if there was any damage to your mask as his hands, almost two times bigger than the size of your face, traced over your mask.

It looks like there was no damage, but he could hear your faint breathing.

Then he takes a glance at your arm and it was almost the most terrifying thing he has ever seen.

And he was a hundred percent sure your arm, or even a regular na’vi’s arm, should not bend that way. “Shit.” He mutters, huge blue hand going over to lift your arm to find your forearm falling limp, almost like jelly.

Then you stirred, making Lo’ak’s eyes widened. “Can you hear me? (Y/N), (Y/N) look at me!” He says, shaking you.

The first thing you registered was Lo’ak who was hovering above you.

Then came the searing pain from your arm.

Lo’ak watched as you stared at him, then in seconds your face contorted into pain as you cried out loud.

Lo’ak felt a pang in his heart, making himself want to cry, almost feeling your pain, but he knows he can't afford to act this way.

“Hold on, (Y/N), alright? Stay with me.” Lo’ak says as he stands up, carrying you in his arms. You continued crying, making Lo’ak frown as he quickly found his way to an opening, calling out to his ikran.

Once it arrived, Lo’ak wasted no time making tsahelyu as he carried you in front of him.

“Go, go!” He screamed at his banshee, who scurried to take flight.

Lo’ak could still hear your cries as he bites his lip, not wanting to look down at your face because he knew it would only pain him more. His heart pounded in his chest; he wanted you to be okay.

Please be okay.

Reaching High Camp, Lo’ak carefully gets off his banshee and he once again carries your small body.

“Norm, Norm!” Lo’ak called once he finds the human figure of Norm talking to another scientist.

Norm turns, his face paling once he realized Lo’ak was carrying you, your bent arm in full view.

“Holy shit, come on, bring her in here!” Norm shouted, earning a few looks from the other villagers.

Norm opens up the door towards the shack, wasting no time to grab the necessary kits to use.

“Lay them down there!” Norm commanded. You had fallen unconscious again.

Lo’ak followed, not minding that he was running out of breath being in the shack as the oxygen was not capable with his body.

He places you down carefully, removing your mask so you could be seen clearly.

“(Y/N), c’mon wake up.” He whispers, seeing your tear stained cheeks makes him let out a shaky breath.

“Lo’ak, I’m sorry bud but you’re going to have to give us some space.” Norm said.

“But I’m—” Lo’ak gasps out, eyes scanning to find a mask made for the na’vi inside the shack. Once he had his hands on it, he breathes through his mask before placing it down.

“I’m not leaving.” Lo’ak said, stubborn as always.

Norm sighed but he let the boy stay. “Sure, kid, just keep out of the way, yeah?”

Lo’ak nods, finding a spot for himself in the corner where he could see you being monitored by Norm, and then he was joined by Max.

He could hear them talking and scanning your vitals, but he only thing he focused on was the rise and fall of your own chest.

A few good ten minutes had passed when the door opened, and it was the last thing Lo’ak needed to see.

His dad.

“I heard what happened.” Jake entered, carefully going over to Norm and Max.

“They took quite the fall… but their vitals are stable now, except for their broken arm which I’ll estimate would heal about two weeks or so.” Max said.

Jake nods, looking at you on the table, brows knitted in worry.

Then his eyes cast over to the corner to find Lo’ak looking at you, wearing the same worried look.

Jake bites his lip, of course, how could he have not known?

He spares his son the lecturing this time, figuring that your health mattered the most to him.

But that wasn’t stopping him from comforting his son.

Jake carefully trudges over to where Lo’ak was.

“Hey, kid.” Jake said, kneeling down so they were almost face to face.

“Dad- dad I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“ Lo’ak begins explaining, his voice cracking in the process.

Jake lets Lo’ak lean his head on his shoulder as Jake sighed. “It was an accident, I know. They’ll be okay.”

“But dad- It was my fault—”

Jake shakes his head. “I don’t think they’ll blame you for it, kid, the two of you are quite the troublemakers.” Jake said, trying to ease his son.

Lo’ak then lifts his head, eyes darting towards your form, seeing your arm now had a bandage around it, a cast, he thinks its called.

Jake breathes in the oxygen from his own mask before patting Lo’ak on the back. “I don’t blame you and neither do they. Just make sure they’re okay, yeah?”

Lo’ak nods, feeling an instant relief provided by you and his father. As Jake left, Lo’ak stands up, slowly making his way toward you.

“They’ll be alright, I think its best giving them a couple of hours to rest.” Norm says. “Thank you.” Lo’ak said.

Norm nods at him before walking out with Max to leave the two of you alone.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

Then as if on cue, you stirred again, your eyes shut as you tried to move.

Your eyes slowly blinked open. “Wha-“

“We’re back in High Camp,” Lo’ak quickly said, he then assists you in sitting up, then his hand delicately ghosts over your cast covered arm.

“I bought you here… Norm and Max helped fix you up but they said your arm would take about three weeks to heal.” Lo’ak said in a low voice.

You looked at him as he was looking at your arm. Then you glance back at him. “Well, that’s a bummer.”

Lo’ak was caught off guard by your reaction as he turned his head to face you.

“What?” You looked at him, only then you realized how big his face actually was compared to yours.

“I just broke your arm… that’s not “a bummer” that’s like… worse than bummer.” Lo’ak said.

You laugh. “Why? Did you personally come to me and broke my arm in half with your bare hands? No, no you didn’t. It’s not your fault. And have you forgotten? We grew up literally almost befriending death because of our stupid bets and pranks.”

Lo’ak finds himself smiling, remembering quite the few bets that almost had the same outcome as this. “I suppose so… whatever you say.”

“But you’re still a skxawng for not catching me back there.” Your voice turned serious and Lo’ak’s face looked like it was drained of its color.

You laugh out loud again, gaining the courage to lean yourself against him, feeling his bare skin on yours felt something to be remembered.

Lo’ak, upon the contact of your head on his chest, had his tail swaying behind him in content.

He sneakily wraps an arm around your smaller form, his hand resting beside your thigh.

“This time I’ll be sure to catch you.”

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