#Create was his whole thing on that server too

[tinosawruswrites]

Jealousy

Week 1: Jealousy (One-shot)

BG3 Baddies/Lilith Hell Discord server Fanfic prompt

Word count: ~5000 words

Synopsis: Astarion ponders over his irritation upon seeing Alina (Tav) sharing friendly intimacy with Gale (and Shadowheart) and attempting to deny that it stems from jealousy.

Tags/Warnings: Named Fem! Tav (Alina), OC Tav with backstory and defined personality, rogue half-elf Tav, spawn Astarion, side character Gale, Shadowheart, Lae’zel and Scratch, jealous Astarion, mild spoilers for the end of Act1, angst, fluff, mentions of abuse and torture, mentions of scars from abuse/torture (back and forearms), allusions to Astarion’s past abuse, smut, penis in vagina sex, pretentious ponderings of things and feelings, endless musings and vague dialogue attempting to create subtext.

Additional notes: Huge thanks to Zaria's The Rabid House Server and those who helped by betareading and giving me grammar lessons! You know who you are! <3

It was a calm evening for once. The group was on their way towards Moonrise, taking a long rest after spending the whole day traveling over the mountain pass. Everyone was at ease, mostly, or pretending to after the dud that was the gith Créche.

Lae’zel in particular. The warrior was uncharacteristically absent, her head full of things to solve after finding out about Vlaakith’s deceit. She sat sternly at the far sidelines of the camp, deep in silent meditation, uninterested and unbothered by the others relaxing by the fire.

Astarion felt he didn’t have much in common with Lae’zel, but found himself in a similar sort of – albeit entirely different and entirely self inflicted – kind of inner turmoil.

He watched as Alina laughed with Gale near the campfire. The two sat side by side, practically glued to one another. The sight made Astarion’s mouth go uncomfortably dry and he took a slow sip from his wine goblet, holding back the grimace that formed from the sour taste of vinegar hitting his tongue.

His eyes followed the way the wizard’s hand fell on the half-elf rogue’s shoulder all too casually for his liking.

Too close.

Too familiar.

Too intimate.

But why?

He had been intimate with her, way more so than the wizard could ever hope to be.

He’d successfully seduced her and bedded her in the forest some weeks ago. After that night, he’d approached her again during the tiefling party and she had agreed to share his bedroll on more than one occasion ever since.

Hells, she sometimes approached him – the shy, timid Alina approached him, for a heated midnight tryst!

That, if anything, meant something and yet… it might have meant nothing at all.

He lowered the goblet from his lips, glaring daggers at Gale’s back from the shadows he sat under. He wished his stare would somehow sting the wizard enough to force him to keel back and remove his grubby fingers off of Alina, but nothing such happened. The wizard kept touching Alina, and the painful stings kept assaulting his own heart instead.

The way Gale could be at such ease near her, so openly enthusiastic about his boring, fringe interests and hobbies while being so godsdamned sincere about himself annoyed him to no end.

How could someone be so reckless?

How did he manage to survive this long without putting up a front and maximizing the others interest by careful analysis and then providing what the other sought according to said analysis? To him, Gale’s haphazard approach to social interactions was severely lacking and somehow the wizard was still winning and by the looks of it, bloody enjoying himself.

Astarion fixated on the hand that slid to gently pat Alina on the upper back. A spot he knew she was sensitive about anyone seeing in particular, with the ragged scars accumulated under her merciless debt owner littering the full length of it and all.

A spot, he had never directly touched as of yet himself either, and whenever he did so indirectly, made him uncomfortable, prompting him to remove his hand lest he push on her limits too hard to drive her away…

After all, she was self-conscious enough to hide them at all times, even when they had their little midnight meetings.

And there was Gale. Resting his stupid magic hand over Alina’s back so stupidly casually, not a care in the world.

The stinging in his heart began to burn like it had actually managed to carve a tiny hole through his undead flesh. He closed his eyes, lifted the wine goblet back onto his lips and took another bitter sip of the vile liquid in order to wash away some of the pain.

Gale had never laid with Alina, but was somehow closer to her, while he had, and his presence was reduced to sitting in the shadows at the edge of camp.

Not because nobody wanted him near the campfire, no. He was allowed to, maybe even welcome, but something kept him at bay.

Deep down, he knew why this was, but acknowledging such a thing would mean admitting defeat, and he was very keen on not doing so.

It was a frivolous little thing, an irritatingly ardent feeling that had made its existence known to him right after he had slept with Alina the first time. It was supposed to be a simple performance, a perfect illusion that would secure Alina’s heart under his ministrations, but each following night they shared, it became increasingly more difficult to keep the mask of indifference on his face.

He might have been intimate with Alina, but had never shared true intimacy with her.

That was the plan and it was working, so why did he still feel like he was losing? And to a socially awkward wizard no less??

“Either the wine in your cup is sour enough to crease your face, or it’s the other way around.” Shadowheart mused from the side rolling her own wine goblet in hand.

Astarion forced his face into seduction mode, easing any and all tension from his face like a magic trick.

“What ever do you mean?” He asked lifting his brows at the cleric.

Shadowheart raised her own brows up in tandem, giving him one of those sly knowing looks of hers.

“Oh, I just ought to point it out, since my wine was starting to taste oddly sour in your presence. Jealousy is a bad look on you, to be honest.”

“Jealous?? Me?” Astarion retorted with a dry laugh and his eyes fell back onto Gale and Alina.

He was about to take another sip of his wine, but froze as he witnessed Alina leaning against Gale and giving him a partial hug. Shadowheart watched as Astarion’s grip tightened around his wine goblet, threatening to break it if it was anything else but metal.

“Mmh-hmm.” She hummed swaying closer.

“For an over two centuries old immortal being you’re surprisingly clueless about things. Or just playing dumb. Which is it, actually?”

“Things? What things, girl? Be more specific,” he spat back at her.

He got another knowing look from the half-elven cleric.

“I wonder...” Shadowheart mused, now standing right next to him.

She extended an arm towards the way he was facing, pretending to scan what Astarion was looking at, as if she didn’t have the insight to what he was so miffed about.

“Oh! I see it now.” She exclaimed and settled to focus on Alina, who had her head rested against Gale’s shoulder in the distance.

“That’s what’s got you so worked up.” She looked Astarion in the eyes, the gleam in her green irises shining arrogantly bright over her clever assessment.

“That’s absolutely ridiculous. What I have with her is more than boring, innocent cuddling.”

“Oh trust me, I and the rest of the camp are well aware.” Shadowheart stepped back with an unimpressed half-smile on her lips.

Astarion smirked.

Alina was the quiet type and didn’t make much noise, unless a situation really called for it. Even her speaking voice was soft and tender, and she preferred to stifle herself even when she was in terrible pain. In contrast to this, she was surprisingly loud when she was feeling good – and Astarion knew how to make her feel way better than just good.

The morning after the tiefling party had been an extremely embarrassing event for her, when the others subtly brought it up to her during breakfast. After that, he’d made it a thing to let her howl out his name in the middle of the night every once in awhile, just as a reminder who she was tumbling with.

Astarion grinned a smug toothy grin, once again frowning at Gale’s turned back.

“Tell me then, dear Shadowheart, what is it that I’m so jealous about, if I’m so intimate with her already?”

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Shadowheart stared at him without blinking and took a long, slow drink of her wine. She tasted the wine before swallowing it and peered inside her now empty cup.

“Oh, would you look at that. All out of wine. I would ask for a refill from your bottle, but I know you’d just say no. Then again, I don’t think I’d actually want any. ‘Sour grapes’ and all.” She flashed him a brilliant smile before swaying away and joining the others near the campfire.

Astarion scoffed at the cleric, finished his own wine and remained scowling in the shadows in his own bitterness.

---

As the evening progressed, Astarion witnessed Shadowheart shooting glances back at him while pretending to be drunker than she was and leaning towards Alina, cuddling her excessively. The half-elf rogue would become flustered, but accept her companion’s innocent appearing clinginess nonetheless.

Astarion rolled his eyes at the cleric’s antics, ignoring the blatant spite thrown his way, well aware of the game she was playing.

Two could play that game, but something prevented him from stepping in and participating. He knew it would be a simple win for him – To saunter over, say “hello darling,” sit next to Alina, pull her against his body and nobody would even dare to approach her the rest of the night, no doubts about it.

But it would be a sour win on his part, because it wouldn’t be just a silly game to him at that point.

Shadowheart leaned to hug Alina, resting her head over the rogue’s shoulder to make direct eye contact with Astarion. He watched as the cleric played with Alina’s hair and how she returned the sentiment with a couple friendly strokes of her own.

Astarion just smiled at Shadowheart, feigning calmness in front of her adversarial behavior.

Much to his delight, Scratch the dog suddenly appeared and bombarded Shadowheart with a slobbery storm of affectionate licks as revenge for not paying enough attention to him.

The cleric pulled away from Alina, both hands sheltering her face from the onslaught of jealous canine love. Astarion chuckled with his book in hand, watching Shadowheart trying to fend off the furry fiend, resorting to running away altogether.

Alina laughed at Shadowheart’s mock panic and Astarion felt all the more better for it.

---

After nightfall, Astarion waited. He laid still in the silent dimness of his tent, waiting for Alina to come to him, if she ever would. He stared up at the purple fabric ceiling of his enclosed resting quarters. A lonesome wax candle provided a comfortable amount of light to ease the cold darkness of the night.

It had been a couple days since their latest meeting and he was hoping she would come by for another night of passion, especially after what transpired earlier that evening. He had a lot of things on his mind he’d want a distraction from.

He thought about how it felt when he saw Gale being so close to Alina, looking so intimate without ever having to take his clothes off or throwing himself at her.

He thought about the conversation with Shadowheart and the hesitancy he felt despite clearly being in the right.

He was right.

Because if he wasn’t, then he’d lost not only to her, but to himself as well.

The shuffle of fabric and a familiar form sliding inside his tent snapped him out of his head. A relieved smile grew upon his lips when he laid his eyes on Alina. The half-elf rogue smiled back at him, her cheeks already red.

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“Good evening, darling.”

“Do you mind some company for tonight?”

“You know I never mind if it’s you, darling.”

“You are allowed to say no if you aren’t feeling it, you know,” she countered sweetly, taking a seat next to his feet.

He said nothing to her offer, instead choosing to admire her form to further drive in her welcome status in his presence.

Alina turned to admire the solemn lonely candle glowing on the small nightstand at the corner, allowing Astarion a moment to take her in. She was donning her regular loose camp clothes: A white, long sleeved collar shirt, basic brown trousers and simple leather shoes.

An unassuming combination, that was worn more for comfort than style, hiding away most of her surprisingly curvy body.

Astarion lifted himself up to his elbows and hooked up one of his knees, giving Alina a seductive look.

“So, looking for a cuddle?” He blurted without thinking.

Alina turned her head to him, eyes wide in mild surprise.

Astarion reeled for a couple fateful seconds and attempted to remedy his momentary breach of character. He cleared his throat and fixed his smile.

“Cuddling sounds nice.” Alina tilted her head with a smile.

“Oh, but surely, you’re looking for more than just a simple cuddle, aren’t you, you sweet little thing!” He purred and watched as Alina’s cheeks grew in color.

She giggled.

“I was wondering if you’re hungry, actually.”

It was a silly question. He was always hungry. Such was the nature of being a vampire. It was still kind of her to ask such a thing, because it wasn’t a question as much it was an offer.

Astarion kept smiling and nodded. He pushed himself up to sit. Alina nodded and crawled closer. She laid herself next to him on the bedroll and scooted flush against him. He took position over her, like so many nights before.

Alina’s golden eyes blinked up at him calmly. Her gaze was relaxed and her body at ease under him despite what was to come. It was in stark contrast to their first feeding session, back when they barely knew each other and all he cared about was rebelling against his master.

Alina had been afraid. She had been tense and could barely mask the shivering of her body when he took his first drink of her delicious life blood. Since then, she’d grown accustomed to it all, the slight pain, numbness and subsequent wooziness afterwards.

Astarion had gotten better at the biting thing himself, finding a comfortable position, able to break skin without too much pain and drinking just enough to sate himself and little enough to not make Alina too ill.

He took one of her hands into his, kissed the back of it and laced their fingers together before leaning in. He rested their joined hands against the side of her head and heard a small hum escape Alina’s throat.

He could have just drunk from her wrist, but both of her forearms were littered with the same destructive marks from her debt owner as her back was. Another spot he had rarely seen and touched directly, fully covered up by her long sleeves even now.

Sensitive. Painful. Intimate.

Alina turned her head for him and exposed the column of her neck, revealing a faint set of bite marks from earlier feedings. Astarion trailed his nose along her freckled skin, hovering over her pulse point, inhaling the intoxicating scent of fresh apples and vanilla that lingered on her body and clothes.

Among her scent were hints of paper and ink, Gale’s cologne, wine and Shadowheart’s perfume.

He felt the stinging in his heart return and felt an urge to retaliate.

He could just bite harder than usual and make Alina feel a smidgen of the burning, stinging pain he was feeling inside his cold hard chest.

That, if anything, would serve her right for making him feel this way.

The sharp ends of Astarion’s fangs pressed against Alina’s subtle flesh, his breath ice cold and heavy on her skin. He opened his maw wider, ready to let the beast take over and punish her, but pulled back moments before it could.

What good would come of him inflicting more pain on her than necessary?

He was in pain and wanted her to know it. But had Alina not suffered just as much as he had already – as proven by the scars she carried on both of her forearms and back?

And unlike him, still showed him kindness, gave him comfort, forgave his shortcomings?

Astarion paused.

Those were all characteristics that pulled him towards her in the first place, what made her so malleable and quite frankly, easy to manipulate. It was also why she was so well liked by the whole camp, him included.

She was…sweet. Truly, and honestly sweet.

He couldn’t hurt her like that, shouldn’t hurt her like that.

He blinked a couple times and ran the fingers of his free hand across the side of her neck as if wiping away loose strands of her hair. The hand that clutched against his gripped harder for a moment. A signal of her continued comfort. Alina’s eyes remained closed, blissfully unaware.

She trusted him so blindly, but he could barely even grin in her presence without feeling like a fraud.

Astarion’s heart ached.

Alina was so close, and yet so far.

And no matter how many times he shed his and her clothes off, he knew that that kind of closeness would only ever be skin deep.

He swallowed and pressed a long kiss against the bite scars on Alina’s throat – like a wordless apology, seeking forgiveness for a sin he had committed against her.

He kissed her neck again and again, each time sinking lower beneath her collar, trying to make amends the only way he felt he could.

Eventually, Alina turned her head to peek at him. She raised herself slightly and brushed a hand through the side of Astarion’s face, a curious look in her eyes.

He smiled at her, hoping to come off as genuine enough.

“I find myself extremely peckish for more than just your neck tonight, darling.”

“You do?” She grinned at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling from joy.

“Hmmm.” Alina kept smiling and tilted her head, inspecting Astarion’s face.

“We can get better acquainted once you’ve had your fill.”

“You know I never have my fill, not when it’s you, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you romantic you.” Alina grinned and rested her head back down, her neck fully exposed once more.

Astarion chuckled and decided not to dally any longer. He leaned back in, sinking his fangs into her neck confidently. Alina tensed momentarily, but relaxed after a while, rubbing her thumb soothingly against the hand she was still holding firmly.

Astarion sighed against Alina’s skin, tasting the heavenly nectar in his mouth, swallowing it with big earnest gulps. This was what he wished his wine goblet was filled with whenever he drank and not that rank, vile bile they carried along backpack loads of.

He reveled in her taste and the pleasant hotness that brought his body back closer to life with each swallow.

Alina’s pulse grew more erratic and he knew it was time to stop. He pulled away, licking long languid lines over the two new punctures on her skin. Alina giggled and Astarion began to kiss down towards her open collar again.

His body was practically singing to him – his usually cold limbs felt warm and lively, his skin more sensitive. All his other senses were more keen and sharp as well, his eyes able to spot the tiniest of motions, his nose the smallest of differences in scent, his ears hearing every stifled little sound.

Astarion sucked on the skin at the edges of Alina’s shirt, then bit on the fabric, playfully yanking on it with his fangs. Alina’s pulse remained high and her breathing heavy. She brushed a hand through the back of Astarion’s head, playing with the loose curls at the nape of his neck.

She unlaced their hands and reached to unbutton her shirt for him.

Astarion followed along with each opened button, kissing down the line of skin that revealed beneath the parting shirt. Alina let out pleased little gasps as he went, her hand falling behind his head again, petting through his hair soothingly.

His own breathing had grown heavier and his body was slowly reacting to Alina’s growing arousal. Yet, a part of his mind was still occupied by the way Gale and Shadowheart clung themselves to Alina, seemingly more intimate with her.

He might have held her body, but her heart was out of his reach.

His mouth fixated over Alina’s sternum, just above where her beating heart laid. His fangs dragged over her skin, the maw within him hungry to dig itself deeper and sink its fangs into the ever beating muscle.

He became aware of himself again after Alina let out a pained whimper and he saw the small bleeding scratches that his fangs had left on her chest.

He met Alina’s gaze, silent panic rising inside of him. He tried to smile it off, but felt the edges of his lips drag downwards instead.

“...Astarion?” Alina asked with worry.

Astarion panted.

He felt out of breath despite not needing to breathe at all.

“Were you still hungry…?”

“Yes, that’s it. I was just…”

He was in pain again. A deep, stinging burning inside his chest, coiling around his heart like thorny vines that were on fire. He swallowed dryly, almost missing the sour wine he had downed earlier.

He snapped back to it again when two warm hands cupped each side of his face, turning his head. He came face to face with Alina. She looked patient as a saint, kind like an angel.

“You can have more if you want,” she said softly.

“I…”

He stared into her eyes without blinking, studying the calmness of them. Her pupils were blown wide as she studied him back, her whole demeanor giving off a sense of tender affection.

With that he let Alina guide him back towards her throat. He inhaled the coppery remnants of the previous wounds and nuzzled against them.

His stomach felt comfortably warm, his vampiric hunger sated for tonight. Drinking more of her blood would help to keep it that way longer, but would do little to ease the tightness in his chest.

But admitting to something else would mean losing the game.

Astarion hesitated and kissed the wounds, then bit back through the fresh fang marks, slightly missing and punctured another set crookedly beside them. Alina let out a stifled whine. Astarion pushed Alina down against the ground, once more drinking from her like a desert during a rainstorm, unquenchable, insatiable.

He pulled away when Alina’s pulse began to dip, knowing he passed the line of comfort for her. A red tainted string of spit connected his lips to her neck. Two sets of fang marks now decorated the side of her neck, blooming red from irritation and spilled blood.

Alina panted slow and heavy, her eyes clearly more unfocused.

“… Any better?” She asked weakly.

He nodded.

His stomach felt fuller, but his chest tighter than before.

“How are you feeling…?” He asked barely above a whisper and Alina blinked up at him.

She looked paler, but her cheeks were still somewhat flushed.

“I’m fine, just a little woozy.” She smiled.

He nodded and managed a tiny smile himself.

“Fine enough to ‘get better acquainted’?” He teased.

Alina flashed him a grin and nodded.

He hadn’t lost the game.

---

Discarding both of their clothes came easy to him. Astarion did so swiftly and without any trouble, an art he had over two centuries of time to perfect.

Astarion left Alina’s shirt on as he always did, to ease her mind off of the scars on her back and forearms, even if he wouldn’t mind seeing them.

Since when did he feel this way?

He’d seen them back at the grove with everyone else. Deep, ugly gashes running every which way up and down her back. Hideous to look at. Her forearms were no better, and if it weren’t for Gale, he and everyone else would have been spared from knowing what grotesque scarring from consistent and regular torture looked like.

At the time, he felt lucky his own were just a morbid poem his master carved onto his flesh over the course of a night. A long, agonizingly painful night, but just a single night nonetheless. Still, he couldn’t bare thinking of actually seeing the scar himself and was partially glad, he probably never would have to.

Alina panted beneath him. His hips moved against hers in languid motions, controlled and automatic. Astarion had both of his hands clasped with hers on each side of her head, their fingers tightly intertwined. She was looking directly at him, her golden eyes filled with desperate want.

Her body felt hot and sweaty against him. Her core was slick and swollen from arousal, making it easy for him to keep up his pace. Alina whimpered and moaned quietly beneath him, either conscious of her own voice and purposefully keeping it down, or too tired to let the world know how good she was feeling.

Even without her usual vocalizations, Astarion knew how good she was feeling. The subtle trembles of her body, the way her back arched when he aimed his hips a certain way… It wouldn’t be difficult to force her voice out, but tonight, it didn’t feel appropriate.

Instead, he drank in the quiet noises of pleasure that slipped past her lips, satisfied by the private secrecy it gave to their little rendezvous. He smiled and increased his pace to edge her further. Alina’s jaw gaped and she let out a pitiful gasp. Her hands grasped his even tighter, her nails digging into his skin.

He smiled, enjoying the view of their group’s resourceful, witty leader rendered into soft, quivering putty in his hands.

Alina squirmed under him, a telltale sign of her approaching release.

Astarion’s flesh yearned its own release, his abdomen tightening in preparation as he watched Alina’s pleasure contorted face. It was like clockwork these days. Watching Alina as she came apart in his hands did things to him, things he never thought he could feel with another person.

Every movement came automatic to him, practiced to perfection like a rigorous dance. No room for self-expression, lest it break the fantastic illusion he was projecting. He felt himself slip away, but was immediately yanked back into the moment by hungry kisses.

Alina licked her way into his mouth, skillfully pulling all his attention back to her. She was growing so close, the way her wet folds clasped his strained length confirmed it.

He let his focus slip away in the moment, knowing once Alina reached her peak, he’d get his – a treat he got to experience almost without fail with her.

Alina’s hands slipped away from his lazy grasp and winded over and around his neck and shoulders, pulling their bodies flush together. Her soft, ample chest squished against his toned chest and her plush thighs pressed harder against his sides. One of her hands settled behind his back, while the other tangled lovingly into his hair.

His own confused hands felt around the bedroll before instinctively wrapping under Alina’s back, holding her tight.

She broke the kiss that had continued all this time and panted right next to his ear, her voice whiny and desperate.

“Astarion…!” Alina whimpered and Astarion felt a jolt run through his spine.

He rocked his hips harder and Alina’s legs fell wider apart. Her voice threatened to grow in volume and pitch, but Astarion got overwhelmed by an increasing need to keep all of this moment to himself. He sealed her mouth with his own, capturing each and every moan between his lips.

He tasted every corner of her mouth, already knowing each and every inch of it, still not bored to explore through it all over again. Alina kissed him back fervently. Her tongue pushed boldly past his back into his mouth, unafraid of the sharp fangs that might scrape and make her bleed.

Astarion moaned when he felt one of Alina’s hands stroking through his curls and lightly yanking at the strands every now and then. The hand over his back was digging its nails into his skin, a slightly painful, but welcome feeling he’d grown to enjoy.

Finally, Alina’s breathing grew erratic and her movements shaky. Astarion smiled against her lips and brought her over the edge, soon following suit. Alina’s pleasure bloomed around him, heated wetness convulsing around him as he spilled inside of her. His hips shook against her, their rhythm broken and uneven. He hummed against Alina’s lips, the blissful heat of his own orgasm washing over him.

Both of them stilled, the silence around them filled only by their heavy breathing and the occasional wet sound of their conjoined bodies still moving against one another.

Astarion moved to separate their bodies, but Alina wrapped her legs around his lower back, trapping him in place. She cupped his face with both hands and kissed him slowly. Astarion blinked in surprise and eased into Alina’s wordless demands, allowing her to shower him with more physical affection.

Usually he parted their bodies quickly after everything was done, like finishing a smooth, clean business transaction with no further clauses to fill. It was how he used to go about things. A neat modus operandi to keep things simple and to prevent himself from getting too involved.

Alina was an exception – “a regular”, as he sometimes thought to himself. He found himself slipping further from his own rules each night he spent in Alina’s embrace, lured in by her sweet nature and the gentle allure of her touch.

She caressed his cheek with a thumb.

“That felt good.” Alina said softly.

“I am well aware. You were about to wake up the whole camp again…”

Alina’s happiness died and turned to embarrassment. Her blush reached all the way up to her pointy ears.

“No I wasn’t.”

“Oh, yes you were, sweetheart.”

“I held back.” She claimed.

“Correction. I held you back.”

“Maybe.” Alina peeked to her side, feigning ignorance.

Astarion chuckled.

“I am in control of you darling.”

“Are you?” Alina tightened her legs around his lower back and rolled them over.

Astarion let out a little whimper, staring up at Alina in shock. She sat upon his hips with her back straight, hands drawing lazy patterns on his abdomen.

“You’re more than welcome to prove me otherwise.”Alina smiled and leaned down over to him.

Astarion smiled and remained where he was, allowing Alina to pull him into another slow kiss. He relaxed against her, thinking through her statement and forgot about it altogether, melting into her kiss.

All thoughts about Gale and Shadowheart were gone, pushed off the cliff of his mind into the pit of obscurity.

Alina was here, in his arms. He had her all to himself, and she had him all to herself.

He had lost the game to himself.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #baldurs gate #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion and tav #astarion x tav #tavstarion #tav x astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 smut #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #oneshot #jealous astarion #bg3 fanfic #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav fanfic #astarion x named tav

[ravenw1ngs]

Anyways if we’re tying in other servers Vault Hunters makes a much better backstory for q!Tubbo than the DSMP ever could and I stand by that.

#qsmp #tubbo #qsmp Tubbo #listen guys vhTubbo had it all #2+ dads raising him qpr-style #Create was his whole thing on that server too #one of his dads is generally depicted as a dragon hybrid and the champion of the goddess of balance #are you seeing the vision #the parallels #the possibility that somewhere out there qTubbo has people who would choose him first #and he doesn’t even know it because the Feds took his memories

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (07)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of oc's mother because we know girlie is hella traumatized, mentions of drinking, mentions of an almost physical fight, abandonment issues, jk forgets to practice safe driving for 2 seconds, and uhmmm kissing 🤫, anddd that cliffhanger? 👀 rating: 18+ (minors dni) word count: 10.8k note (1): this is the longest it has taken me to update obs and i do feel pretty guilty about that. but it's finally here now and this is one of the chapters that i'm the most nervous about posting. massive thanks to @daechwitatamic and @wintaerbaer for beta-ing this for me or else i would've screamed cried thrown up and scrapped the whole thing, and to @jeonwiixard for being a wonderful cheerleader as i was writing this, and to everyone in my beloved obs discord server for always being so sweet and kind and putting a smile on my smile every day since the server was created. also to my sunshine ☀︎ for introducing me to the song mentioned below bc HELLO is it not just one of the most obs coded songs ever. love you all my babies <3

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Somewhere in the multiverse There's a me and you that works We never fuck it up We're out there still in love Somewhere in the multiverse Maybe that's enough

multiverse - Maya Manuele ft. PEMRBOKE

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere. 

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don’t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house. 

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married. 

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great. 

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here. 

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met. 

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky. 

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace. 

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground. 

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks. 

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go. 

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time  [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him  [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back.  [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.”  You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement. 

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge. 

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him. 

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him.  His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening. 

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted september 24, 2023]

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bangtanbathhouse #clubzerooclock #52hertz #fic: our beloved summer #obs spoilers #jungkook

[archetypal-archivist]

I think one of the points that stood out to me about Quackity's statement is how professional it sounded and how he knew exactly how to move forward in a situation like this, despite how messy it is. It was short, it was to the point, it was without extraneous excuses or emotion, and it emphasized what went wrong and how he will fix it. End statement.

And I think something that jumped out to me is that- Quackity's trained in this. The dude went to law school. He could probably look at this mess and pick out what HR laws were broken, if any, and how it would be compensated in court, which in turn means he can then go and do that compensating. The statement sounds formal and trustworthy because I bet Quackity's had to do debate-style speeches and public speaking classes. He likely studied so he can put together a statement like this that would hold water in the court of public opinion. Maybe with the intent that such skills would be for a client, yeah, but it still carries over here, which is damn good because the QSMP mess is flaming harder that the 2020s dumpster fire merch tumblr started selling a while back.

I'm fairly certain the QSMP will survive this and with streamers like Badboyhalo and dedicated admins who love their jobs like Richas (Pomme and Richas have both told the audience in QnA segments on Bad's streams not to tell them to sleep, they know what they're doing), we'll be getting content in the interim while things are worked out, too. But I don't think we'll be reaching the level of popularity the QSMP had a few months back. Late 2023 to early 2024 has been nothing but blow after blow to the server, first with purgatory 1, then Forever, the backlash and horrible racism against the Brazilians and the targeting of Cellbit in particular, then Wilbur, then this... Yeah. I don't see the server escaping unscathed from this, there'll forever be drama tied to its name which is the last thing Quackity wanted from his project.

However, people love this whole thing. It's done what it's set out to do and created many genuine friendships and economic opportunities for the CCs. It's Quackity's passion project, a love carried to many other CCs, not to mention the fans. It's too beloved to die completely and given how long the admins stuck it out despite the working conditions, I genuinely think that most of the good members of the cast and crew will be sticking it out for the long haul. We just have to be patient and cautiously hopeful.

#qsmp #discourse #quackity

[angelonasher]

Everything so far about the season 9 Egg War

(in case anyone wants this lol)

Edit: please read the reblog with the corrections because I did make some mistakes/miss details :D

[you're here], Part 2

The links to the other parts are at the bottom of the reblog!

--

Grian steals The dragon egg from Pearl, dupes it, and returns it. (This will be important later)

Grian and Scar accidentally blow up Doc's tunnel bore as a way to procrastinate from finishing the back of Grian's base.

They make an apology pile with many gifts including diamonds, Scarland merch, and a dragon egg.

Doc retaliates by doing funky chunk repressor stuff to make Grian's nether portal one block and puts a load of wither skull projectiles in Scarland's sky.

Zedaph wants one of Grian's duped eggs for the Hall of All, and completes an egg quest Grian sent him on to get it. Part of the quest was blowing up a small section of Doc's base. (Without fixing it afterwards.)

Doc retaliates by making Grian blow up Mumbo's vault door in order to get a purple crown. (Which Grian wants because he claims it will make him "Mumbo's best friend.")

Grian leaves a sign saying he does not know how to "physically, emotionally, or spiritually fix this."

Mumbo pays Scar 64 diamonds to blow up a large part of his base because he didn't like it anymore. He then makes Grian think that it blew up along with the vault door, therefore making it Grian's fault. That causes Grian to burn (what they think is?) the one and only purple crown so far due to guilt.

Grian and Scar retaliate by creating a machine to fill Doc's perimeter with chickens. However, due to the Scar and Grian are banned sign in the perimeter, they go as their alter egos Poultry Man and Hotguy.

Doc cleans up the chickens with the help of Ren (who pledges his alliance to him), Zedaph (who he seems to be a bit on the fence about since he didn't fix his base), and some foxes.

Doc leads a bunch of the chickens Grian and Scar made into Grian's base. (With Zedaph's help.)

Grian, Scar, and Mumbo form the Buttercup alliance against Doc, because, according to Grian's research, buttercups are toxic to goats.

The Buttercup alliance makes a cute little tent area in the middle of Doc's path, raise a sniffer called "Xx_GoAtEaTeR_xX", and build their eyes overlooking the perimeter so Doc knows "they're always watching." (They also discover that falling blocks make Grian's game crash.)

The buttercups learn that Doc has a robot (the Goat Walker) that faces the path. They decide to build (let Mumbo build) a robot to fight it in a cool mech battle thing.

Doc uses the dragon egg Grian had given him as an apology to dupe a bunch more, then build an insane egg duping machine that makes a whole lotta dragon eggs.

Doc and Ren put these eggs in Scarland, Grian's base, the bridge connecting Grian's and Mumbo's bases, and Mumbo's vault. Ren encourages Doc to also put them inside Scarland's castle. (With loads of shulker boxes to spare.)

Pearl, as the server's resident cleaner lady, gets hired by Scar for a salary of 32 diamonds a week to clean up all the eggs in Scarland. (He also kind of throws Grian under the bus concerning the illegal eggs and logs off when asked to give her his stock of eggs.)

Doc calls Pearl to snitch- AhEm I mean inform Pearl of his neighbors' messiness. From him she learns that Grian's base also has eggs in it, that Doc was the one that duped all these eggs, Ren was the one to put them in the bases (although he did too), and that he had thought Grian had the original egg. (He also gives her almost two barrels full of shulker boxes full of dragon eggs. He does not tell her about the machine or the eggs still in it that he could easily use to make more.)

Pearl says something about Grian facing the cleaning lady's wrath idk i think she's gonna end up entering this whole fiasco too lol

Doc builds two butterflies flying above the perimeter in order to "kill them with kindness." The one facing directly towards Scarland is for him, and the one facing directly towards Grian's base is for Ren.

The butterflies are actually tnt-duping flying machines.

Doc tells Ren about and shows him the butterflies. Ren (apparently) thinks they are just flying machines, and Doc does not tell him about the tnt. (Doc's pov only)

Doc and Ren discover a beacon in the perimeter and that someone had been mining there. They conclude no one respects the Goat anymore, and Doc determines to find out who it was. (Idk if this is gonna be relevant but I've added it just in case.)

Ren tells Doc about his super awesome spy plans, which involves the cave right under the Buttercups's camp. (It's not elaborated on very much in Doc's episode.)

wooh. That is all I know so far :D

#hermitcraft #the egg war #hermitcraft s9 #hermitcraft season 9 #docm77 #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #rendog #renthedog #pearlescentmoon #zedaph #zedaphplays #the buttercups #buttercup alliance #summary #list #egg war summary

[bc-jpeg]

so uh- I didn't see if this theory already exists in the fandom, or no one really touched on it, but after a long time in both fandoms, one funny pattern is noticeable. I’m so obsessed with watchers lore so much, which is why I started to go beyond only one universe, and this gave the result. so the theory is that dreamxd is a watcher. after digging into the dsmp lore, I found several points that may indicate this. dxd’s nature may differ from the canonical nature of the watchers that we see in evo smp and in the life-seasons in martyn’s lore, but we also already have a watcher!grian, whose watcher's nature also differs in its own way from that very canon, he has his own lore, so this will also work here.

now this will be only my personal version of watcher!dxd lore, there may still be holes in it, but this is only as a possible base:

presumably dreamxd is an ex-manhunt!dream, who could not get out of the world and stuck in the spectator mode of the game, becoming a watcher. in the initial attempts to escape from such a fate and get out (I don't think dream would just accept such a fate), he was crippled either by other watchers or by himself, having lost his "eye". this explains the basic visual interpretation of the dxd, where the place where the eyes should have been is now a familiar cross pattern.

isolating himself from other watchers, dxd created a time loop from the existing world, from which he initially could not get out, closing access to the end dimension for players, preventing both the players themselves from escaping, and the possibility of capturing these players to other watchers for their own time loops. the world with the manhunt seed was restarted, defaulting almost everything to zero, which eventually became the dsmp server. all interactions between players and server events began to give dxd so much energy and power that eventually the essence of the watcher completely absorbed him, dxd himself began to provoke events, interact directly with players, and all for the sake of energy, emotions, deaths that made him only stronger. dsmp became an excellent loop-feeder for him only, in which he completely lost his original humanity, becoming a monster, creating only chaos.

one of the risky but effective dxd’s moves of was giving the revival book and the book of death to players inside the time loop, which in a peculiar way gave them access to part of dxd’s powers. he realized how unpredictable players can be in their decisions and actions, which gave a ton of events possibilities. he wouldn't have to provoke events himself, when players can do everything for him, giving the same amount of energy.

so in the final of the dsmp, after that nuclear explosion, dxd simply restarted the entire time loop, as it was shown. the players don't remember anything that happened, they don't remember each other, the whole world was defaulted to zero, where they started all over again.

it’s also interesting that the concepts of limbo and dreams/illusions exist both in the dsmp lore and in watchers lore in life-seasons. limbo is the space where players end up with the loss of all their canonical lives, and there is no return from there, only at the whim of mystical powers (dsmp — the revival book, as part of the dxd’s powers, life-seasons — the watchers, more specifically watcher!grian).

both concepts somehow intersect with each other:

> in the dsmp, they intersected in the c!george’s lore, he had partial access to limbo through his own dreams, where dxd himself was also often present. someone also had the opportunity to watch server events from limbo.

> in life-seasons, according to cc!martyn, limbo is the space where all players get to after the final death and are there between seasons in a state of sleep, in which they see their own smps/universes.

again, this is just a possible version of how exactly this theory/head-cannon can work, there are a lot of things that I could not explain yet, because there is too much information from different dsmp povs. some things I remember, some not at all, but I left a hint of their possible intersection visually in the diagram. the theory of the smps-multiverse is here simply by default, all the other main points are indicated in this diagram. all of this will be easily editable at any future time, my job is just to throw in the base for this theory :D

#mcyt #mcyt fandom #trafficblr #dsmpblr #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp theory #traffic life smp #life series #traffic life series theory #life series theory #the watchers #dream xd #watcher grian #evo smp #the watchers lore #eyesandears

[bloodplague]

Ticci-Toby in relationships

Simply how I headcanon Toby in romantic and sexual relationships. ^^

Toby is… a walking red flag: Paranoid, m-rderer, possessive, obsessive, clingy, ADHD, bipolar, selfharm, antisocial aka sociopathy, obnoxious, manipulative af, sassy, touchy, incompetent, abandonment issues, uncontrollable due to his bipolar disorder, emotion bursts, mental break downs, schizophrenia, depressed, eating disorder, no social life, no remorse and only rarely empathy, full of himself, selfish, forceful, bloodthirsty, shy in an insane way and way more.

After analyzing Toby for years, gathering canon facts, sheets and tracking down all possible information, I created a whole damn discord server just to write down all the things I analyzed & everything about him in general. So, I can say that this is pretty accurate:

I'll begin with possessive. Toby is incredibly possessive and jealous, trying to be around them as MUCH as possible. He won't give them space nor respect boundaries if it comes to that, completely claiming his partner as his. He might even stalk his partner when he can't be around them or if they need space, fully focusing on them like an insane love-sick raccoon. Toby constantly has his hands on his partner, gives them hickeys or hugs/cuddles them in a possessive way. When it comes to kissing, his cheek won't really bother…. hopefully.

With possessiveness, the paranoia comes as well. He'd immediately think his partner is about to leave him if they either dry text or are really dry with him in general, thinking he's doing something wrong. This will cause him to feel insecure as well as irritated (since he's temperamental). Abandonment is one of his biggest fears anyway, which is why this man needs a LOT of reassurance in a relationship.

The next 2 things are his unhealthy obsession with his partner & his pure clingy-ness. As soon as he begins to love someone, he'll grow so obsessed with them, being all touchy (which is another canon trait) and needy as he constantly craves their attention, to the point where he's being obnoxious.

Even if he's emotional very detached, making fun of his tourettes is a big trigger for him. He simply gets uncomfortable and irritated since literally everyone except a few people make fun of him or comment his tourettes, sometimes even disgusted by the noises his neck or arm makes when he twitches. His irritation will definitely be there and can even cause a rage burst, as his partner is one of the few people he trusts. Even if his humor is dark, he has his limits as well.

In arguments he can quickly become frustrated and blame the other person, thinking he did nothing wrong, unless he's going through an depressive episode. Then he tends to blame himself, terrified he's going to fuck up the relationship.

Due to his C.I.P.A, he can't feel pain, nor can he tell what might hurt and what won't. So, he might accidentally hurt his partner at times by holding their arm or hand too tightly, not aware that he's causing pain. Because of that, Toby is always trying to be as gentle as possible.

Tobias has always been the weird one, always left out and never really recieving love from anyone other than his mother and sister. He's not used to affection, so he'll definitely be very affectionate yet somehow confused as soon as he realises his partner actually accepts him.

Toby used to take the beating his father gave him and his sister in a protective way, which means he has the instinct to protect loved ones. Alone that shows, that he'd be very protective in a relationship, if not even caring… in his own way.

Yes, Toby has many disorders and a tragic past, but people tend to forget that it's canon that Toby forgot his past and doesn't question it. To him, it never happened, and he only gets flashbacks or remembers things when he sees or smells familiar things that remind him again. He might have flashbacks, but they will end and he'll forget about the again.

His ADHD causes a lot of hyperactivity, his bipolar disorder gives him split personalities and constantly makes him go through mania or depression- and his eating disorder causes him to starve himself at times. Alone that is way too much to handle for most people, which is why Toby is convinced he's unlovable and doesn't deserve love.

Suffering under ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder) caused sociopathy: little remorse, lack of empathy, committing serious crimes, impulsive behavior, controlling, defensive, possessive, narcissistic behavior at times, not afraid to use people, a good lair, very manipulative, doing a lot to archive what he wants to archive… etc. It's a serious disorder and handling someone who suffers under this disorder can be exhausting at times, just like arguing with them. Yes, sociopaths are capable of loving and bounding, but it's not easy for them and often ends unhealthy, sadly. Even if Toby is a sociopath, he would definitely not be physically abusive. He might manipulate his partner for either his own pleasure or other reasons, but he's not some monster. Toby stated in one of his voice claims: "What kind of man beats women and children? No man!".

Since Toby doesn't really care about other's feelings (as long as he's not fond of them), he will be pretty sassy. Same with his partner. Of course he will be a little more careful and is really fond of them, but he might say sassy things that can quickly cross the line, even if he doesn't realize it.

At times, he might have heavy mental break downs or lets his rage get the best of him, just throwing his hatchets around and yelling, breaking stuff or even hurting himself. Usually it's just the hand-biting, but he can also find other ways to do self-harm. Those random burst of emotions don't happen a lot, but they are very intensive if they actually happen. That's when he needs his partner the most, even if he will be cold and distant, pushing them away until he feels calmer again. Once he's just more relaxed again, he needs a lot of comfort and feels rather depressed, clinging onto his partner once again.

A big red-flag can be his amnesia. He might forget important things, dates or specific moments that had happened, which can be very irritating to most people. The lack of social interactions also do him no good…

More of the rather toxic personality traits are his selfishness, his "forceful" behavior and the fact that he's full of himself. For example: If he's going through a mania episode, he might tend to be hypersexal. Once he's lustful, he "needs what he craves". Even if his partner might say no, he will just keep begging and asking over and over again until he either finally gets what he wants- or fails. Another method would be manipulation, but if that fails too, he'll just be irritated since (as said) he's full of himself and selfish. He would NOT actually force his partner into intimacy tho, since that is a kind of abuse as well, but he will guilt-trip them.

In general, he can be very clingy, is super possessive and will have an unhealthy obsession with his partner- but at the same time, he's a walking red-flag. He just never learned how to love without hurting people…

#ticci toby #tobias erin rogers #creepypasta #headcanon #crp #slenderman #ticci toby creepypasta

[avelera]

I definitely don't need more WIPs right not for Dreamling, but sometimes it is fun to brainstorm a total nonsense fanfic-y premise played totally straight, which is why I'm fondly remembering the Cinderella Dreamling AU I brainstormed on one of the servers.

(Canon Divergence AU, because that's how I roll)

2022 rolls around and Hob and Dream are friends. Just... friends. Hob would love there to be more. He sometimes suspects, more like wishes really hard, that Dream would like more but, as usual, the guy isn't talking if he does. And Hob is too chicken to ruin the friendship they finally achieved to do something so uncouth as proposition his oldest friend.

He comes to the sad and perhaps inevitable conclusion that Dream has had all the chances in the world to say something so the only conclusion is that Hob's just not that interesting to him in that way. Stands to reason. The more Hob learns about the Dreaming and Dream's fantastical realm and all his adventures, the more Hob's almost single-minded dedication to living a normal life despite his immortality seems a bit... dull.

Enter Desire. Or Death. Or both. This is fanfic-y nonsense, after all, the point is there is a device and the device is our fairy god-person who is also sick to death of watching Dream pine from afar but is also a huge fan of chaos.

They (let's go with Desire for now, even if the trope is a bit overplayed, because it seems like their sort of thing) offer Hob a proposal. The chance to go into the Dreaming each night to woo Dream. Best of all, it will be with Desire's protection of his identity and a small amount of magic to create a persona for wooing Dream that won't be immediately obvious.

Oh, also, Dream is throwing a big fuck-off bash for Faerie or some other Dreaming ally so there's gonna be a party for weeks up there. Perfect place to slip in a new stranger. (Hob is a little charmed by the idea that he gets to be the stranger for once.)

Enter: the Knight of Roses.

Basically, Hob creates a persona into which he pours all of charm, wit, and courtier's polish from 600s years of life. If nothing else, he's having the time of his life at what is essentially a fancy magical masquerade ball where he gets to try his damndest to sweep Dream off his feet.

And it seems to be working. Hard to tell with Dream. But each night, Dream seems excited to see the Knight of Roses again.

(It is working. It's working very very well. The Dreaming is awash in flowers. Dream spends every waking moment he's not at the ball pacing his quarters, interrogating his subjects as to how in the world he can't get to the bottom of who this is, and every person who could nominally be considered his friend including his siblings and subjects are tearing their hair out with how sick they are of hearing about the Knight of Roses.

Hob doesn't hear about it though in the waking because Dream is in love with him and doesn't want to ruin any chance they might have together someday by agonizing over a mysterious guest who is probably some trick sent by Desire or Lucifer or someone to mess with Dream. He has no idea how right he is and how wrong he is not to bring it up to Hob.)

Secret Identity shenanigans ensue, of course, until we hit a breaking point with drama, tears, etc etc the usual for the trope because of course (gasp!) Hob is the Knight of Roses and there never was any need to create a separate persona because Dream was also agonizing over whether Hob was interested and Hob was so chill around him he assumed he was misreading all the signs. (Hob was working so, so hard to appear that chill around Dream.) Identities are unmasked and everyone lives happily ever after.

(But Hob is keeping the outfit once they're officially together, because Dream really, really liked the romance of the whole Knight of Roses identity but he likes it even more now that he knows it's Hob and not an evil trap laid by one of his enemies.)

#dreamling #the sandman #fic ideas #plot bunnies #that I will probably never write #mostly because it's too formulaic and it would be SUPER LONG to give it justice #free to a good home I suppose?

[sirenofpearls]

I am just gonna say this just in case. Don't go hating on Aypieree for not liking and not logging on the qsmp as his reasons are extremely valid. Even Etoiles said this reset thing is great but is a hit or miss. Pierre's builds are taken away plus there is no create. And i bet they are gonna capitalise it too.

So don't go around saying he is throwing a tantrum or whatever. Not everyone enjoys the whole grinding thing. Plus if people do not enjoy PvP and stuff like that it's fine too. We all know the reset has made the server really hard and the only reason members are surviving right now and making any progress is due to the immortal eggs.

Just gonna add his community made the extension of translations btw which was such a great contribution. His contribution and consistency in the server has been great too. One of the players that logged in almost daily. He has every right to be upset.

#qsmp #had to say it as few people were doing it #Aypierre

[mochiwrites]

so since evo is part of the whole backstory thing I think? since you wrote something for it. does that mean crafting dead is scar’s backstory too? If so then how did grian and scar end up meeting/falling in love?

it is, yeah! I talked a little bit about how they met here and as a bonus, I talked here about some of the evo stuff!

so! expanding on my thoughts a bit more, I think they were pretty young when they first met. scar is young for a vex and grian is just a regular old human player. he's not an avian pre-evo

I'm gonna run with the idea that every server and player world is connected to one giant hub -- kinda like a computer database. so for scar, he had to escape from his crafting dead world (I'm thinking scar's world got corrupted, maybe by the watchers? but the corruption is how the virus broke out and the zombies appeared).

it took him a while because he had to get the materials to create a portal and he had to fix his communicator to even be able to connect anything to the main hub. I have to flesh this out more, but that's the basic idea rn!! soooo he manages to get out of the world (before it completely collapses and the code is destroyed).

scar kinda wanders for a bit, has to find himself now that he's not clawing for survival every day. and he ends up stumbling on the hypixel hub, which will give him exactly what he needs: an excuse to explore who he is and who he wants to be. he definitely picks up his conman lifestyle here.

then enter grian, who's essentially behaving as a nomad. I think he's a builder for hire, doing a lot of free lance stuff. he's got an apartment in hypixel and a somewhat established life.

as for how he and scar meet? well that's easy. scar scams him :D

scar gets maybe one or two days before grian is marching up to him and demanding compensation because he knows scar scammed him. scar tries to play it off but grian is Stubborn and really cute, and scar, in all of his smartness and not at all being influenced by his attraction, apologizes and offers to make it up to grian.

I think scar is kinda. homeless. he's just wandering hypixel, exploring what he can with what little money he manages to get together. so how does he make it up to grian? well, he puts those conman skills to good use! he manages to smooth talk his way into getting himself and grian a table at a restaurant for free ;3

and grian really isn't sure why he's agreeing to this... date, maybe it's due to curiosity. scar is offering a free meal, and he's easy on the eyes and sure. okay, yeah he'll let this handsome fella get him dinner.

it's through this dinner that grian discovers scar is homeless and impulsively decides to let scar stay in his apartment with him. and well. roommates to lovers :D

#mochi speaks #secret husbands au

[egelskop]

i am so interested in ur hlvrai au can we get a rundown

oh boy, this is going under a readmore.

fair warning, this is a LONG read because (1.) i am not a competent writer and (2.) i can't for the life of me keep things brief. sorry and or good luck.

ACT I

The Black Mesa incident: Gordon Freeman is provided an opportunity to do an informal beta test for a combat training simulation program that's in development in the Research & Development department of the Black Mesa Research Facility. (Read: He knows a guy in R&D and said guy knows Gordon likes video games and VR stuff, so he was like "hey you should come check this out when you're on break.")

The combat sim would be a revolutionary training simulation using artificial intelligence to enhance and realize the experience for the ‘player character’.

The test goes wrong, and Gordon can’t seem to disengage from the simulation and odd, unscripted things start happening; he has to ‘play the game’ to its full completion before he is able to exit the simulation safely. He has suffered a brain injury throughout the process, eye damage due to prolonged exposure to the headset and is generally traumatized by the simulation experience he at some point could no longer physically and emotionally distinguish from the real world. The project as a whole is shut down and Gordon is put into a rehabilitation program. Black Mesa covers up the incident as best it can, but whispers of it still echo around the facility.

Below is a page for a two-page comic i never finished detailing said events.

ACT II

The rumors reach the ears of a particularly tech-savvy researcher named Clark, who steals the project documentation and anything else he can get his hands on from a storage. At home, he looks into the project, reads about it, and gets curious about the simulation’s files themselves. They’re on a drive he plugs into his computer, and suddenly his system’s performance lags, windows open and close until a txt. file opens up. He comes into contact with one of the simulation’s AI that has somehow entered his operating system. He tries to keep it busy by having it poke around as he reads up on the simulation and its ultimate shutdown. When the AI reveals it can see him through the webcam, he panics and rips the drive out of the port. The invasive AI and the other project files seems like they’re gone from his system, he does a checkup but sees nothing odd running or otherwise. The next day after work he does another checkup. Finding nothing, he surmises he’s in the clear and starts up an online game. The slumbering, corrupted data of the AI sees its out, and disappears into the game.

ACT III

The transition/journey to the game is a rocky one, and the already corrupted data of the AI known as Benrey splits and gets even more fragmented. The largest fragment embeds itself into the game’s files to keep itself running. Without the foundation of the game to support it, it’d be lost to a dead void and slowly die out. Somewhat stable, it learns about the world around it; the game seems to be an exploration sandbox game. For now (and clarity), I’ve chosen to call this bigger, embedded fragment ‘Data’. (so this is the big benny with the right eye/one big eye in my art)

Data splits off a smaller fragment of itself, intending it to be an avatar or ‘player character’ but this grows into its own awareness and becomes who we’ll call ‘Beastrey’ (the smaller benny with the left eye and tail in my art).

The fragment ‘Beastrey’ wakes to a dead void, so Data uses its knowledge to create a private server for Beastrey, an empty world. Beastrey’s existence is an extension of the bigger part, with more freedom of movement to parse through the game and move freely within it, with the caveat that it can’t go ‘too far’ away from the host. Beastrey can visit other servers and relay information. Data learns and slowly starts building up the world/private server, at some point settling for an aquatic world because it reminds it of itself (something something sea of data). It's important to note that Beastrey retains little to no memories of the events of canon VRAI.

Data makes it easier for Beastrey to move around, and they grow to have more reach with time. At some point Data can alter the basic structural elements of the game, so it plays around with making things that are reminiscent of the memories it has of Black Mesa and Xen. At one point, it gains access to parse through the player base of the game, and takes note of an email address: ‘[email protected]’, attached to a player account. The name is somewhat familiar to it.

It sends an invite to join the server to the player account.

ACT IV

Gordon tries going back to work at Black Mesa after rehabilitating, but he has trouble separating his experiences with the simulation from reality, to a breaking point where an altercation with a security guard drives him to quit. He seeks professional help for his PTSD and anxiety, but still experiences dissociative episodes, migraines and somatic flashbacks localised mostly in his right forearm. Despite this, he is determined to continue living his life as normally as possible. He applies for a part-time job teaching physics at a local high school, the one where his son Joshua goes to, and remains relatively stable from there.

Joshua is 15 years old. Regular teen. After an impressive amount of pleading he got a VR-headset for his 14th birthday from Gordon (much to the disapproval of Gordon’s ex), and he’s been captivated by an exploration sandbox game since it came out a few months ago.

He gets an invite to an unnamed private server, and he accepts.

He is struck with awe as the world he enters seems completely different from the ones he’s seen so far in the game. Different flora, different fauna. Most of it uninteractible, though, or otherwise just retextured from its base game variant. Even the new enemy types, after a scare, can’t actually hurt him, it seems. He stumbles upon Beastrey, who is just as surprised to see him and wants him out until Joshua says he was invited.

Joshua commends Beastrey (who introduces himself as 'Ben-') on ‘modding’ everything in, but admits that he was disappointed to find that everything was just surface-level stuff. Beastrey inquires about what he’d like to see. Data is always watching, unseen, and decides to alter the world in the way Joshua described when Joshua leaves.

Joshua starts appearing more often, if only for a few hours at a time. He marvels at the ways the world shifts and grows with each time he plays, and takes to exploring it with Beastrey at his side, for whom strangely enough a lot of things are also new. Joshua teaches both Beastrey and Data about the outside world, thinking Beastrey is just a somewhat reclusive but likeable weirdo.

Joshua tells Gordon about the new friend he made, ‘Ben’, and the adventures he’s been having with the other. Gordon is happy to hear Joshua is having a good time, but is otherwise none the wiser. Joshua starts losing track of time in the game, but chalks it up to being invested.

During one play session, Beastrey confesses he isn’t the one who did all the ‘modding’, and invites Joshua to meet Data. Data, or at least its ‘physical’ in-game manifestation is deep within the world, past the aquatic twilight zone and strange, drowned ruins of an unknown facility. Data, for the first time, really sees Joshua, and the resemblance sparks something within it. Joshua is drawn closer to it, and just before he reaches it-

Joshua wakes up lying on the floor with Gordon hunched over him in his room, pleading with him to wake up. Joshua unknowingly got drawn into the game much like Gordon had been, and Gordon urges Joshua to never touch the headset again, taking it away. Gordon opens up about his experiences with the simulation a bit more. They both agree to not touch the game or the headset again.

ACT V

Gordon comes into contact with an old coworker from Black Mesa, and he inquires about the combat simulation project, if anything happened to it after it was canned. This is where he learns that an employee had taken the project files from storage and was consequently fired. He comes into contact with Clark, and Clark explains he had no idea he accidentally unleashed the AI unto the game. Gordon asks if anything can be done to prevent what happened to Joshua and himself from happening to other people. Clark confesses he doesn’t know, and that it’s up to the developers of the game to find anything out of place and make sure it gets fixed. Gordon decides to leave the matter where it lies, not wanting anything to do with AI and simulations anymore and to safeguard his son.

Some time passes.

Joshua starts getting repeated invites and messages, at one point he gets into a conversation with ‘Ben’ via a platform’s messaging system. Ben says he can explain everything, that he’s sorry. Joshua decides he would like one final goodbye. He finds the headset stashed away somewhere in the house, and, while Gordon’s gone, he turns on the game and enters the server.

Beastrey (Ben) is surprised to see him, urging him to log out and turn off the game, but it’s already too late and Joshua can no longer leave. Beastrey helps Joshua attempting to ‘exit’ the game by going as far away from Data’s reach, but Data stops Beastrey and traps Joshua, determined to wait to the point that he assimilates into the game completely.

Gordon eventually finds Joshua comatose with the headset on, and he panics. He considers calling the emergency services, but he’s afraid they’ll take the headset off or that removing Joshua too far from the game will hurt his son like what happened to him. He calls Clark, urging him to help in any way he can. This results in Gordon and Clark going back to Black Mesa to retrieve the project files and the other gear they can get their hands on to get Gordon into the game to free his son.

Gordon enters the private server with Clark’s player character, and thwarts any attempt from Data to impede his progress and trap him as well. Beastrey’s awareness is overridden by Data as a last ditch effort to deter Gordon and Gordon is forced to destroy Beastrey before he can reach Data. As Beastrey is taken over, Data gains Beastrey’s awareness, and finds his other, littler half never wanted to trap Joshua in the first place, and the way it hurt him to hurt both Joshua and Gordon to this extent.

At this point, Data wavers in its intention to keep Joshua trapped, even more so with Beastrey now gone, and recognises whatever it is that is driving Gordon forward in the game is outside of his control to manipulate, so he lets Gordon destroy it as well. In a way, it also feels as a fulfillment of its intended role as the ‘villain’. The server crashes, the world breaks apart. The ‘game’ is completed.

The final boss is defeated and both Gordon and Joshua wake up. Joshua luckily wasn’t exposed long enough to have suffered any lasting damage, except for what seems to be a minor headache and some light sensitivity (and a vow from Gordon to get him checked out by a doctor as soon as the clinics open).

--

The whole ordeal results in Clark, Gordon and Joshua sitting in a Denny’s at four in the morning, eating pancakes somewhat solemnly, completely exhausted but also still reeling from the virtual battle. Joshua learns that ‘Ben’ essentially died, and he can’t help but cry for his friend.

“Honestly, I don’t think he’s gone,” Gordon admits, picking at the last bites of his pancakes. "I think he- or whatever that was, has a hard time staying dead. Like a cockroach, you know? At this point I’m just wondering when he’ll turn up again.”

Clark hums in agreement. Joshua seems somewhat reassured by his words, wiping at his eyes with the scratchy napkin as he settles into the squeaking diner seat.

“But,” he starts with a sigh, pointing his syrup-covered fork upwards to the ceiling in a decree, “One thing’s for certain…”

He thinks back to a time rife with virtual gunfire, caging walls and hysterical laughter echoing through the halls of the Black Mesa research facility. Five sets of footsteps and a whisper of his name.

“…No more VR. No more headsets. Ever.”

--

TL;DR: Gordon got trapped in VR and then Joshua also got trapped in VR. Benrey is there but also not.

thank you for reading. here. ( x ‿ o ) 🫴

#augmentedreality #gras talks #i need you all to understand that most of the plot was retroactively written to justify certain stylistic choices in my art #thats why beastreys design became what it is now and it wasnt 'like that' in the beginning #i didnt expect myself or others to become invested in it to such an extent /crying #with all of this i mean to say please don't grill me on the details. i simply dont know and will start crying profusely if pressed #also its very bencentric but i have played around with shoehorning the rest of the science team into it as well. so far no luck though

[satirates]

Seeing Pomme and Richarlyson together made me think a lot about their how their firsts days on the server gave them two completely opposite relationship with death. Analysis under the cut:

Both of them came on the server after the initial egg event and a long time after the precedent egg's death. They didn't get the ten days other eggs had when losing a life wasn't a big event. When they arrived, they had to adapt quick to insane mobs and code monsters. I think that the imminent danger was a leading point into forging their personality.

Richarlyson

Richarlyson lost a life his first day on the server. His parent were unaware of the danger the server represented, how powerful the mob are. It got reversed, but not forgotten.

Then, a couple of days later, he lost his first perma-life to bulls. If it was not because of the decision to give him his first life back, he would have been the egg to die the quickest on the server. The Brazilians were not given stuff to help them face the danger, they were barely warned. Only this death really made them realize how Richarlyson death was not a question of if, but when, if they continue to play like that.

So they created the project Immortalyson. They showed him how to fight, how to be brave, how to survive on this wild Island. They provide him with insane gears to protect himself, a whole TP system to get him out of danger fast, and are always ready to fight for him.

Richarlyson was confronted to death really early in his life. But it didn't make him scared, No... It made him live his life to the fullest. His whole personality his a good representation of "you only live once". He doesn't care if he dies, only that it will sadden his dad. So he doesn't let fear stop him from living his life like he wants, as dangerous has it sometimes look (with the armour and the sas and all X)

Pomme

Contrarily to Richarlyson, Pomme was made really aware of her impending death on the first day. Forever made sure to warn the French of the danger ahead. Maybe even a little too well. For the first two weeks, The French keep telling Pomme (and themselves) that she was going to be attack and maybe die. They didn't want to go anywhere with her alone, always made her go back to her room after an hour or so. They were really prudent and careful. Then she moved to the Ninho, and started her journal, which his a good insight in what she was feeling at the moment. She didn't understand why people were overprotecting her like that. People kept telling her to be afraid of something she didn't understand, so she was careful. But fear, at that point, was almost the only thing she knew.

Then the first and second code attack, the "nightmare" happen. She was finally confronted to that fear, seen it face to face. Reading her journal after that is really an angst fest, I'm telling you. She keep saying that she wanted to be more brave, but keep being scare by everything happening on the Island. She goes to dungeon with Étoiles, build, participate in lore. But fear is still driving the way she acts. She is almost never removing her armour except if people let her, even in safe places. She is really obedient, the last time she wasn't she was almost killed by the code. And fear has started to bleed into other part of her life. She is scare of conflict, of division, of death, of loosing people. Her character has been taught to fear the world before she even has the chance to explore it. And even if she's braver nowadays, we can still see how fear has impacted the way she developed.

In conclusion

Richarlyson early experience with death taught him to live his lives to the fullest, while Pomme's early experience with death taught her to live in fear of it.

#qsmp #qsmp french #qsmp brasil #qsmp richarlyson #qsmp pomme #long post #qsmp analysis

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Heat (M) ~Changbin

Pairing: Werewolf!Changbin x Werewolf!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Established Relationship Warnings: time jumps, graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) Word Count: ~6k | AO3 Summary: With you, Changbin was able to explore areas of himself he’d never even imagined existed. With you, Changbin found himself feeling at home more than ever, which was why he wanted nothing more than to experience your heat with you, too. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series, a sort of part 2 to Finding Comfort in Autumn].

Author’s Note: this piece had been sitting in my WIPs for way too long ! i missed Changbin and his girl… since i finally got some inspo to continue this one, i rode the wave and here we are ! a bit of a pwp but i just couldn’t hold back…

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Changbin’s WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of.

Smut Warnings: Fingering [M.Rec gasp], Oral [M.Rec], unprotected penetration [piv], snowballing, marking, breeding kink, werewolf cock, copious amount of fluids, knotting

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Changbin was worried.

He had been for a while, but he didn’t want to express it too much. Not because you would judge him, or disregard him in any way, but because he knew that vocalising it time and time again would probably make it worse. So he settled on being a good partner and giving you an ear to complain to on the matter when you needed it.

It had been over a year since you ran away from your pack, over a year since you moved in with him, a handful of months since you finally shared your affections, and the whole time, you’d not gone into heat. Not even once. Changbin had gone on his rut right before you two got together, he had left your shared home a few days prior to the fact to stay in one of the vacant flats at their den to not make you uncomfortable in any way. 

Going into his rut when he lived with an omega was dangerous, especially when that omega was you. By that point he had already developed feelings for you, so he made it a point to leave as soon as he saw the first signs of his rut approaching, meaning his rut-enhanced pheromones had no time to affect you and send you into heat. At the time that was for the best, all things considered, but now that you’d been together for a while it had become quite the topic.

It wasn’t that Changbin needed you to go into heat by any means. There was no real push for breeding in any way, but he worried about your health, about your well-being. Not going into heat could potentially mean there were underlying issues with your health and that was something he hoped you didn’t have to go through.

So, you had seeked medical advice with a specialist just for your kind–funny thing, how werewolves lived so intertwined in human spaces and they didn’t even notice. Not even the other doctors at the clinic knew one of their seemingly normal doctors was treating her own kind, along with humans. Changbin couldn’t go with you to the appointment, and it wasn’t because he hadn’t tried, but work had been hell that week and he had to work extra hours. ‘Don’t worry about it, Binnie, seriously. I’ll be just fine. Will call you as soon as I’m done. Besides, our dearest Pack Mum has offered her company, so I won't be alone’, you’d told him at the time, and it was just as he had left the server room that evening that you finally called him.

“Okay, good news and bad news… Which one do you wanna hear first?” You said it so unfazed, so level, Changbin truly wasn’t sure what to expect.

“Bad news first, pup. Always the bad news first”, Changbin felt his hands shake a bit as he fumbled with his ID card to leave the area.

“Okay”, you took a deep breath, trying to ease nerves of your own, Changbin supposed. “She said it’s probably due to stress. A combination of leaving my former pack, joining a new one, my general day-to-day stress at work…”

Changbin found the exit to the roof, stepping out to try and get more privacy and enjoy the fresh evening air. “That doesn’t sound… That bad?”

“Hm. The bad part is that there’s no way to medically trigger it”, Changbin heard your tired sigh on the other side of the line, just as he leaned on the railing to look at the tiny flashes of light moving through the roads below. “My heats have been so… Stunted for so long she said it’d take a while for my body to push a normal cycle again”.

You had explained to Changbin that for the past handful of years you hadn’t gone into heat on your own, they would mostly get triggered by your ex’s rut, and even then they wouldn’t always occur. With the new information from the specialist, Changbin figured your entire situation in your former pack had made it so your body was in a constant state of distress, meaning your cycle really had been thrown off for years.

“So it’s all about waiting?” Changbin pushed a pebble with his foot, hearing your hum of confirmation.

“Yes. Physically everything’s alright, and my birth control shouldn’t be affecting the cycle anyway, so it’s just a matter of patience”.

“Something you don’t have much of, unfortunately”, Changbin teased you a bit to try and ease the mood, chuckling at your mock offended ‘hey!’ on the other side of the line. “And the good news?”

“The good news is that the results of the tests came in! I mean, not like we didn’t know already, but now we know for sure. Your precious little omega is one hundred percent clean. So I hope you’re ready for us to fuck into next week, baby!” 

Changbin couldn’t help but let out an incredulous laugh, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit at your forwardness as if he hadn’t already fucked you countless of times–to his credit, you hadn’t done it raw this entire time, and just the mere thought had him vibrating with excitement. “And to the week after, too. Damn…”

When Changbin came back home at almost midnight, exhausted out of his mind after dealing with the goddamn priority one outage in the office, you had engulfed him in a tight hug, proceeding to smother his face in kisses, making him giggle.

‘Poor Binnie has been working all day long. Let me take care of you, baby, hm? Got a surprise for you’, and Changbin almost wept when you guided him to the bathroom, dimly lit by numerous candles that you had carefully placed on every available surface and an already prepared warm bath.

When Changbin lowered himself into the tub he quite literally let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of warm water easing his muscles, making you chuckle just as you went in as well, leaning on the other end of the tub, looking fondly at him. 

“Good, Binnie?” 

“So good. Feel like I might cry”, Changbin chuckled, closing his eyes and sinking further into the water.

There was movement, and the water around him sloshed slightly as you moved closer to him. By the time he opened his eyes you were already kneeling between his legs, smiling at him. You reached for him, setting your hands on his shoulders and softly kneading his flesh, eliciting a content hum from him with your tender touch. 

Sometimes, Changbin couldn’t even believe his luck. Starting a relationship with you had completely liberated this side of himself that he had tucked away deeply within his heart for years, the side of him that rejoiced in the way you took care of him.

He had been a bit worried at first, wondering if you, like he himself had done many times in the past with former partners, were simply trying to mould yourself to him, to his needs. ‘I really do enjoy taking care of you, Binnie. Making you feel good makes me feel good’, and when you looked at him like this, there were no doubts in his mind that you were telling him the truth.

“What time are you working tomorrow?” You asked him as you continued to knead his shoulders.

“Not working tomorrow. That was my condition for the out of hours thingy today. Wanted to rest. Plus you won’t be working tomorrow either, right?” Changbin was turning into putty in your hands, just letting himself enjoy your touch as he lazily reached for your hips, softly digging his thumbs on your skin.

“Mm, not working tomorrow either”, moving your hands from his shoulders, you cupped his cheeks, pulling him to you for a tender kiss. “Wanted to be fresh for our run in a couple of days”.

“Smart…” His hands sneaked to the small of your back, drawing circles there with his fingertips as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “You think the full moon might…”

You sighed, pulling away from his lips to look him in the eyes, just as you returned your hands to his shoulders. You clearly knew exactly what he was asking, on whether you thought the full moon would trigger your heat or not. “Dunno… It hasn’t the past handful of months… But one can hope, right?”

“Mm…”

“Why?” Leaning closer, you brushed your nose against his briefly, only to bring your lips to hover over his. “Wanna breed me that badly, Binnie?”

A shiver ran up and down Changbin’s spine. He couldn’t help it, it was an instinctual thing. Sliding his hands further down, he groped your buttcheeks, just as he pressed a brief kiss on your lips. “What if I do? What if I wanna stuff my precious omega full of my pups?”

“Would you?” You mumbled against his lips, and Changbin could practically feel you vibrating in his hold. “Pump me full of your pups? Maybe even… Mark me?”

Changbin had to use every ounce of willpower to not let his canines enlarge at the suggestion, suddenly feeling lightheaded, salivating, at the mere thought of claiming you, of marking you as his. “Want me to mark you, pup? Make you mine?”

“Hm…” You lightly brushed your nose against his, threading your fingers through Changbin’s hair and tugging his head back. “But only if you become mine, too”.

“Already am”, was all Changbin murmured before he connected his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

“Shh, Binnie… You’ll wake up the whole house…”

Changbin bit his lip to muffle himself. It was hard to stay quiet when you had two fingers up his ass and your fist around his cock, but he was certainly not about to complain.

“You’re leaking, baby”, you chuckled, keeping up those slow strokes on his length and the even slower thrust of your fingers. “So much…”

Changbin swallowed, just as the heat on his cheeks spread all over his chest, too. “All for you, pup…”

Last night’s run certainly affected you, just like it had affected Changbin. It didn’t particularly trigger your heat like he was expecting, but the way you jumped him as soon as you were inside your shared room almost knocked the breath out of his lungs. Not only did you fuck like bunnies–or should he say, like wolves…–last night, but you’d woken up in the same needy, horny mood this morning.

It was really early, but the second Changbin woke up and got the first whiff of your scent, he wasted no time in waking you up. As soon as you opened your eyes you took a hold of his length and guided him to your entrance, letting him stuff you full and fuck into you until you were trembling with your release, and when you recovered, you simply turned around and pushed on his shoulder for him to lay down.

Which got him right here, with his legs spread open for you, all lubed up and stretched open by your fingers.

The first time you told Changbin you wanted to finger him he was a bit apprehensive, mostly out of his own prejudice. After all, males–and especially alpha males–were taught that the act was something to look down on, but considering he was going through his own journey of self-discovery, he trusted you enough to be that vulnerable, and the second he finally gave you the go ahead and tried it, he realised two things:

One, that he wasn’t any less of a man–of an alpha–for taking a finger up the ass. He hadn’t felt any less of anything since he started to be more open with himself, so this discovery didn’t surprise him.

And two, and the most shocking of all, was that it felt so fucking good, which certainly helped cement discovery number one.

The feeling was almost indescribable, having his cock tugged and sucked and played with was amazing on its own, but the added stimulation just made him feel like his entire body was alight. Every time your fingers went in and out, tiny shots of pleasure ran up and down his spine, and every time you hit that sweet spot within him, he’d literally shiver and leak fluids like crazy.

As an alpha, Changbin already produced almost triple the amount of a regular human male, and double of a werewolf of any other designation, but whenever you stimulated him like this, the amount increased considerably, and the fact that you seemed to love it made it even more arousing than it already was.

“Puppy…” Changbin was panting, whining, writhing a bit, and he felt so, so close. It was the second time you got him this close, and he needed to come or he would seriously start crying under your touch.

“What is it, baby?” Your voice was deceivingly sweet, speaking to him just as you settled to massage his prostate, making him whine.

“Wanna… Wanna come…” Changbin held your gaze, getting lost in your lust-filled irises. Had you done this last night, with his senses enhanced by the full moon and looking at your glowing eyes, he would’ve blown right then and there, he was sure.

You squeezed the base of his length, and Changbin couldn’t help but throw his head back as you kept massaging him. “Already?”

Changbin let out a strained laugh, gripping the bed sheets tightly. “It’s been–Fuck… Over twenty minutes of this, pup… Wanna–”

He all but choked on his words as you resumed your movements, now with the addition of your warm, wet mouth around his tip. Bringing a fist to his mouth, Changbin bit down to stop the sounds that were desperately trying to come out of his mouth, carefully rolling his hips to meet the thrusts of your fingers, but not enough to shove his cock too much down your throat. 

Changbin loved to see you like this, he would admit. Settled between his legs, struggling to take his cock into your mouth. He was big, just like any other alpha would be, but that never stopped you from wrapping your lips around his length and making him whine and whimper for you.

You bobbed your head, sucking harshly on his tip, jerking the rest of his length that you couldn’t fit in your mouth just as your fingers kept massaging him, working him up closer to his release by the second, and Changbin felt his mind cloud, registering only your touch, the pressure building inside of him, and the feeling of his teeth sinking on his index finger.

Finally, that pressure inside of him bursted, all that tension left his body as he came with your lips still around him, pathetically whining and moaning as low as he could–he had embraced this part of himself, but Changbin didn’t particularly feel like having his entire family hear him have a mind-blowing orgasm, he was barely conscious enough to keep that in check. 

His legs were shaking, you kept sucking him and massaging him, and it was just too much. So he called for you, the most strained ‘puppy, enough…’ leaving his lips for you to finally pull your fingers out of his ass and your mouth off of him with a lewd pop. 

Crawling up his body, you settled on his lap, cupping his cheeks and pulling him to you for a heated kiss, and Changbin couldn’t help but moan as you shoved your tongue inside his mouth, spreading his cum over his tongue. He swallowed it all, just like he always did, holding you tightly, naked chest against naked chest, kissing you with fervour.

Changbin felt tingly all over, not only from finally blowing his load, but also just by having you close, by being completely engulfed in your scent. These days he just felt completely flooded by it, and he absolutely loved every second of it.

“Good boy…” You mumbled against his lips, petting his hair and making him huff out an incredulous chuckle. 

“Unbelievable…” With his arms securely around your waist, Changbin rolled, bringing you with him and pinning you to the mattress, smothering your face with kisses. “You’re seriously unbelievable”.

You chuckled, wrapping your limbs around him and pressing a kiss on his lips. “You love me either way”.

“I love you because of it”, Changbin gave you a brief kiss, pulling away from you entirely right after. “C’mon, let’s get ready for the day, I really want to clean my ass and I’m sure everyone will be awake soon…”

By the time Changbin and you had taken a quick shower and made your way downstairs, there were already some pack members in the kitchen. Chris, his girlfriend, and Jeongin were sitting at the table, while Hyunjin, Felix, and Jisung got busy preparing breakfast.

You offered Felix your help, while Changbin simply made his way to the table and sat down, engaging in conversation with the rest. This was honestly one of Changbin’s favourite moments of their monthly trips, just being able to sit together and chat, everyone still in their pyjamas, hairs tousled, and still sleepy. It made him feel completely at home, at ease, and he always felt grateful that this was his family now.

It wasn’t like his previous pack wasn’t family, it just wasn’t the same. Changbin loved his parents–his mother particularly was very important to him, he’d go visit her once every two weeks at least–but the pack Chris and Changbin built together had become such a safe space for him he truly couldn’t imagine himself living anywhere else, with anyone else. Even more so now that he had you in his life.

“…It sucks ‘cause I’ll have to take the night shift once we’re back in the city”, Jisung was whining about his job, just like he often did. He always claimed he loved it, but loving his job wouldn’t stop him from complaining either way. 

“Didn’t you say you loved night shifts, baby?” Chris’ girlfriend chuckled from where she was sitting on Chris’ lap, with one of his arms securely around her waist as he fed her pieces of freshly cut apples.

“I kinda do, but lately they’ve been getting weird… We’re getting a lot of weirdos in the emergency room and it’s annoying…”

“You do work at a hospital that tends mostly to supernatural creatures, what were you expecting exactly?” Hyunjin said as he continued to whisk eggs in a bowl. “Find a normal, human hospital if you don’t wanna deal with oddities, darling”.

“But then what’s the point?” Jisung sighed dramatically, handing Felix his freshly chopped veggies.

“Morning”, Minho mumbled as he walked through the door, with an arm draped over his best friend who was coming to one of their monthly trips for the first time–his kitten, as he’d often call her, both to her face and when she wasn’t there. ‘Ahh, my kitten’s coming tomorrow…’, ‘Ahh, my kitten’s not feeling well…’, ‘Ahh, was just talking to my kitten…’ Minho would always talk about her, and Changbin found it endearing and annoying in equal parts.

Endearing, because it was cute to see Minho being absolutely whipped, but annoying because he’d never act on it. They’d been friends since childhood, and it was more than clear that both of them had feelings for each other, but they were both oblivious to the other’s more than obvious crush. It was even more painful than watching Chris and his girlfriend interact when they were just roommates, considering they had even more history.

“Morn–” Jisung’s sentence cut short with a gasp as he looked at his two childhood friends. “You two fucked?”

Jisung asked in his version of a whisper, which was, essentially, audible to everyone in the room, including the humans–if the snort that Chris’ girlfriend let out was anything to go by. 

Minho facepalmed, groaning. “You sure are the epitome of discretion, Jisung…”

“I’m sorry! You caught me off guard, okay?!” Jisung’s ears were slightly red, but Minho’s… Friend? Chuckled regardless.

“How could you even tell?” She made her way to the table, sitting next to Chris and his girlfriend, who offered her a slice of apple, too.

“Scent”, you touched your nose, grinning at her, and her face flushed as she let out a barely audible ‘oh…’

“Alright, everyone”, Chris’ girlfriend interrupted the conversation, with her hand outstretched, palm up. “Pay up. I’ll collect the payout from the others later and distribute it”.

Minho’s jaw went slack, watching completely incredulous as some of his packmates deposited tenners on their Pack Mum’s hand. “You bet on us getting together?!”

“Just like you bet on us fucking last night”, Chris motioned to him and his girlfriend with a teasing smirk on his face. “We’re fucking even”.

Minho just scoffed, but he was smiling regardless, and as he started to uselessly banter with Chris, as the rest started to add their playful remarks and teasing jokes, Changbin couldn’t help but feel incredibly happy once again that this was the family he had chosen to have.

Going back to work after a couple of nights in the woods was always more refreshing than Changbin could ever expect. He loved being able to run freely in nature, especially when he did it with his pack, but coming back to his mundane office job always reminded him that he wasn’t just an animal, that he was very much part human, too, and it helped him connect with that side of him.

You had decided to take your annual leave right after the trip, since you had a bunch of errands to run and it’d be easier to do them if you didn’t have to deal with office shenanigans. So, Changbin had been coming to work on his own these past couple of days, which was fine, you two often had different schedules so it wasn’t particularly uncommon for that to happen, but still he enjoyed seeing your pretty face around the office every once in a while when he was able to leave his desk, which he couldn’t do now that you weren’t here.

The network was stable today, he’d checked all the switches early in the morning, everything was in order, so today was one of those rare days in which he was able to fulfil all his tasks in a few hours. There wasn’t much to do, just stay put in case something happened and his expertise was needed, so he settled to pretend to be busy by checking the pack’s group chat through the messaging app’s web browser.

> Seungminnie: guys > found a gnome trying to sneak into the den

> Mr Alpha: what u do with it > ???????

> Minho: why tf would a gnome try to go into the den?

> Mrs Mother: pls tell me you didnt kill it > or eat it

> Innie: dw mum > we just chased it away

> Hyunjinnie: they say it’s bad luck > if a gnome visits a werewolf den

> Jisung: literally who said that > no one said that > u just trynna spook us

> Hyunjinnie: @Jisung look it up sweetcheeks

Changbin just chuckled, puzzled at the entire exchange, and it was just as he was going to add to the conversation that he felt his mobile phone buzz in his pocket. He couldn’t stop the smile that settled on his face as he saw the ‘💕Gingerbread💕’ text on the screen.

“‘Sup, pup?”

There was silence for a moment, until finally, Changbin heard you swallow, thickly enough for him to hear it over the phone. “Binnie…”

Changbin went stiff, suddenly frozen in place. The way you said his nickname had the fine hairs on his nape standing on end, and the sound sent a shiver up and down his spine. “Babe–”

“Need you”, you whined, and at that exact moment Changbin understood what was happening, and he simultaneously felt as if a cold bucket of water had come down on him, and as if he was being lit on fire. “Please, Bin, it hurts so bad… Need you…”

Changbin stood up from his desk, gathering his belongings and hastily shoving them in his bag. “I’ll be there soon, pup. Don’t worry. Are you at home?”

“Mhm…” Your voice was a bit weak, but knowing you were safe at home was enough for him.

“I’m on my way”.

While the call disconnected Changbin was making his way out the door, shooting his boss a quick ‘there’s an emergency at home, I have to leave now’. His boss didn’t object, probably because Changbin had inadvertently used his alpha voice, if anyone so much as tried to stop him right now that he was trying to get to you he’d surely rip their head clean off, so it was for the best.

The drive to the den was a blur, all Changbin could think about was you and how you’d be managing, about how he wasn’t there to take care of you. As an alpha, knowing his omega was in heat and he wasn’t there for you at this exact moment brought a mix of distress and anger that was difficult to handle while driving, but he was able to make it home without much trouble, thankfully.

As soon as Changbin stepped through the door he was hit by your overwhelming scent, your delicious nutmeg and ginger scent that drove him absolutely insane, now heightened and somehow more concentrated, making him stumble slightly and brace himself on the hall’s wall.

He got his shoes off out of habit, an action completely mechanical as his hands started to tremble, and his mind started to cloud more and more with each intake of breath. Fertile, breed, claim… Were words that repeated in his mind in an endless loop as he stumbled towards the bedroom.

Sure enough, as soon as he opened the door, his mouth watered, his cock that had steadily been growing hard pumped to its fullest just as the sight. You, laying on your shared bed, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts, surrounded by a mix of yours and his clothes, sweaty, panting, whining… And the second you registered his presence you squirmed, with the most delicious mewl leaving your lips.

“Changbin… Changbinnie, please, baby…”

The sound of your voice, so desperate for him, your scent flooding his senses completely, the sight of you in your pretty nest on your shared bed was enough to send Changbin into a frenzied state. He could feel his humanity quickly slipping between his fingers as his wolf instincts started to take over. Please, taste, mount…

His skin felt ten times hotter than it did before he stepped into his flat, so he removed his shirt, swiftly making his way to the bed, climbing on top of you to press kisses all over your face.

As soon as his lips were on you, you whined, so, so desperate, needy… Your hands reached for his chest, your touch seething as you felt him up. “Shh, pup… I’m here”, Changbin’s lips descended from your face to your neck, nibbling and licking right on your pulsepoint. The salty taste of your skin, coupled with the smell of your scent had his nerve-endings on fire, and his hands moved below your shirt–his shirt–to palm your hips as he pressed his nose to your neck and inhaled deeply.

“You smell so delicious, puppy… So, so good, fuck, wanna–” Changbin choked on his words as he felt your hand on his crotch, pressing firmly against his erection as you started to kiss and lick his cheeks.

“Need you”, your breathy tone had his head spinning, had his cock twitching in his underwear, just as fluid started to leak from his tip.

You fumbled with his belt, and Changbin grabbed a handful of your tit to knead and squeeze while licking the expanse of your neck. He didn’t know where to start, there were so many things roaming chaotically in his brain–licking your cunt clean, stuffing his fingers in you until you were crying for him, sucking on your tits, fucking you, mounting you… There were so many options, and his mind was so hazy and cloudy he just couldn’t choose one.

You, however, clearly knew exactly what you wanted right now, since your fingers expertly unbuttoned his now soaked trousers and shoved them and his underwear down just enough for his cock to spring free, holding him in your hand and pumping him, eliciting an almost desperate growl from his lips.

“Need my alpha’s cock, please…” Before Changbin could register the movement, you had locked your legs around him and pushed with your whole bodyweight, effectively rolling you both for him to lay on his back and for you to straddle his hips.

“Pup–” Changbin’s call for you died on his tongue, replaced with a groan as your lips finally connected to his. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth, making you whine as your hips started to roll, grinding yourself on his length.

You were literally dripping, your fluids mixing with his, covering his lower abdomen and your inner thighs with them. Enjoy, satisfy, submit… His hands found purchase on your buttcheeks, gripping you tightly and moving you harder against his cock as his hips bucked up trying to get as much friction as possible. 

There was that damn shirt, though… The fabric prevented him from feeling your heated skin against his and he was hating it, he wanted to feel your breasts against his chest, for you to feel the rumble resonating from deep within him as you pressed yourself to him, to feel your rumble against his chest…

“Need to feel you…” was all he mumbled against your lips as he tugged on the shirt, and you mewled, bringing your hands to his chest to push yourself up.

You tugged the shirt off of your body, shuffling down to tug Changbin’s trousers and underwear fully off of him, leaving you both completely bare. Once you climbed up his body again, hovering just above his length, you braced yourself on his abdomen. “Please, please, Changbinnie, can I–”

“Yes!” Changbin interrupted you, knowing exactly what you wanted from him, him wanting exactly the same thing. His hand reached for the base of his cock, angling it to rub the tip against your folds, and you shuddered with the touch.

Before he could even register it, you took a hold of his wrist and sank down on him just as you moved his hand away from his length and brought it to one of your breasts. As soon as your walls wrapped snugly around his cock a shared moan of relief escaped you both. His hand squeezed your breast almost on instinct, and Changbin felt heat spreading all over his face and neck just at the feel of you, warm, wet, tight, his…

Changbin had spent many ruts with people in the past, he had helped friends through their heats as well, but never had he had his rut triggered by someone’s heat, never had he felt this way, this needy and desperate. More than wanting to do anything to you, he vaguely realised he wanted you to do anything you wanted to him, he wanted to give you anything and everything you asked him for, and the thought of you voicing your needs and taking him however you pleased had him burning up from the inside out.

You leaned in to kiss him, your hips moving up and down his cock with ease, the mix of your slick and his aiding every single one of your movements. Moving a hand to one of your buttocks, Changbin squeezed tightly as the other tangled in your hair, tugging you off of his mouth for him to press kisses on your neck, right where your scent concentrated the most, thrusting up into you as hard as his hips would let him. “Such a good little omega, aren’t you? With your pretty little nest ready for your alpha to breed you, hm?”

You couldn’t help but moan, nodding frantically as much as you could with his hand still holding onto your hair. “Do you–Do you like it, Binnie?” The neediness in your voice had his cock twitching inside of you as he continued to drill into you, the sound of your wet skin meeting almost drowning your meek words, had you not whispered them against his neck as you sucked marks on his skin he could’ve easily missed them. “Prepared it… Just for you… For us…”

Warmth spread quickly within Changbin, his hips stuttering the slightest bit once your words registered in his hazy brain, but he recovered quickly, holding you tighter in his arms, his grip on your buttock probably leaving bruises already. “I love it. Love my perfect omega’s little nest”, you clenched hard around his cock, and he couldn’t help but groan at the feeling. “Fuck, pup… Want to do so many things to you… For you…”

“Later… Later, baby. Now, I–” A whine fell from your lips, and your thighs twitched as his cock continued to hit that sweet spot inside your walls. Bracing yourself on his chest you sat straighter, and Changbin’s hold on your hair relented as soon as you started moving. His hands frantically roamed your body, not knowing where to settle, your hips, your ass, your tits, your thighs… There were so many places for Changbin to hold onto he just couldn’t settle for one.

As you started to bounce up and down his length Changbin started to feel his knot expanding within your walls, a loud, desperate moan falling from your lips as you clearly started to feel it as well. “Fuck… So big, so, so big…” Your pace picked up, Changbin’s hips chasing your hips to enhance your pleasure and his as you continued to move. “Want you to stuff me full, Binnie… Want your pups, alpha, my alpha…” 

Omega, mate, tie… Changbin couldn’t help but moan, the thought of filling you up, breeding you, stuffing you full of his seed had him close, so close to the edge he started to lose a bit of his self control, and his hips pistoned up as hard as he could against you, just as his deepest desires flew past his lips before he could even stop himself.

“Mark me, puppy…” His eyes were fixed on yours, taking in the blissed out expression on your face, your beautiful features contorting in pleasure, whether it was for his words or his movements he didn’t know, nor could he think too clearly about it to care. “Please, mark me… Want everyone to know I’m yours and yours only. Mark me…”

With a whine, your canines enlarged upon his request–not much, you were an omega after all, but that didn’t stop you from dipping, and your mouth found the junction of his shoulder and his neck for your teeth to sink into his flesh, sending sparks of hot, unadulterated pleasure throughout his entire system.

The feeling of your teeth breaking his skin, along with your merciless hips bouncing on top of him was enough to send him over the edge, lodging his knot deep within your walls for him to shoot his seed into you with a long, drawn out growl just as your walls started to spasm around him, just as your whole body shook in his hold as you came undone with him.

Changbin felt lightheaded as his cum spurted almost endlessly from his tip, filling you up. You weakly licked his neck, right where you bit him, trying to soothe the wound. “My alpha, my Binnie, mine, all mine…” You whispered against his skin, bringing heat to his face, making him blush.

Turning his head slightly, Changbin’s lips found yours. One of his hands came to rest on the back of your head to deepen the kiss, and his tongue pushed lazily against yours, savouring you. “My sweet, precious omega, mine, all mine…” He mumbled against your lips, hearing your satisfied hum when he finally stopped coming, when he finally stuffed you full of everything he had.

Hiding in the crook of his neck again, you snuggled impossibly closer to him, letting out a content sigh as you both just laid there catching your breaths for a long while.

Changbin’s skin felt tingly, especially where you bit him–holy shit you marked him. As he regained clarity, he finally realised he begged you to mark him, and you did. You marked him and the mere feeling of it made him blow his load immediately, and his mind was racing.

Suddenly, you tensed, moving away from his neck to look him in the eyes. “Holy shit, Changbin…” Your fingers traced the mark on his neck, making a shiver run down his spine at the contact. 

“You marked me”, Changbin confirmed, feeling his heart swell in his chest as he said it, his voice was barely a whisper, and his palms moved from where they had been laying on your back to softly caress your shoulders. “How does it look?”

“Like… Like a mating bite…” You licked your lips, your eyes jumping back and forth from his face to the mark. “Didn’t even know omegas could mark others… Much less an alpha”.

“You’re no ordinary omega, pup”, one of Changbin’s hands pushed away the hair that was sticking to your forehead. “Just like I’m no ordinary alpha, thought we had established that already”, with a hand on the back of your neck, he pulled you down gently, to press a soft, tender kiss to the apple of your cheek.

“Do you–” You shuffled, or at least tried to, but the tug of Changbin’s knot in your core made you wince and whine as soon as you tried to move.

Changbin’s hands found your hips, keeping you firmly in place. “Don’t move, baby. This is quite possibly one of the worst positions we could’ve tied in”, Changbin chuckled softly, pressing kisses on your cheeks to try to soothe you.

“Sorry…” A sheepish smile made its way onto your face, a blush settling on your cheeks. “Couldn’t help it…”

“I know, pup”, stretching his neck a bit, Changbin’s lips found yours, placing a peck on your lips. Wrapping his arms around your waist he held you to his chest and inhaled deeply. “You smell so good, puppy… So good…”

“You do, too, baby…” You rubbed your forehead on Changbin’s shoulder, letting out a content sigh. “Did I… Did my heat trigger your rut?”

Changbin just hummed, softly caressing your hair and your back. “The second I stepped through the door and I got a whiff of your scent I lost my mind. My rut wasn’t due yet”.

You hummed, pressing soft kisses on his neck. “Guess you’ll have to call in sick…”

Changbin chuckled. Leave it to you to think about work even in a moment like this. “They’ll live. This is more important than that stupid office”.

Giggling softly, you smothered his face with kisses, bringing the widest smile to his lips just as you brushed Changbin’s nose with yours once you had finished your attack. “We’re gonna have so much fun, Binnie…”

Once his knot fully deflated, Changbin moved you off of his lap, and your eyes went wide as you looked at him, still hard and leaking. With a smirk on his face, he took a hold of your hips, a tiny squeak left your lips as he harshly turned you around and pulled your lower body up to rest your weight on your knees. 

“My turn now. Gonna make a mess out of you, pup…”

Yes, Changbin enjoyed being taken care of. He enjoyed letting you take control, but on odd occasions, and especially now, with his mind still hazy and completely drunk on your scent and your pheromones, he enjoyed taking control, too. He was determined to take care of you.

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme @staaa96 @oiminho @dundullresident @honey-lemon-goose @straylightdream @carefully325 @lavenderxkies @starshine-moon @biribarabiribbaem @meowmeowhoon @100layersofdaddyissues @dearalice @alexis-reads-fics @xcookiemonsteer @knowleeknow @chanlovesme If you want to be removed from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really. any respectful feedback...) is always welcome :)

Changbin’ WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of.

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy au #stray kids werewolf au #changbin fluff #changbin smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #changbin fanfiction #changbin fic #changbin x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf changbin #✨🌙✏

[kairiscorner]

reader creating silly miguel emojis and sending them tk the spider society gc for everyone to use bc shes a fun gal ;p (and she likes annoying him too)

fr. (did i legit make a whole ass dc server for this? yes.) sorry i didn't change my display name to y/n, i got lazy 😭😭😭 also written ver with additional scenes under the cut !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

shitting on miggy cutely. 🫶— miguel o'hara x reader

✧ written version !! ✧

after lyla had signed miguel up for a discord account, much to his frustration, you immediately got a hold of his username (which was really generic, he named himself: 'miguelohara' at first, but lyla changed it up to: 'migolohellnawh') and added him to the spider society's discord server. you made a channel that was dedicated to showing miguel all the stickers and emojis you and the society had made that was just full of memes of miguel. thanks to earth-928's social media, you were all fed with silly stickers and emojis of him for days; you all had a spam channel where hobie and pav would have contests to see whose thumbs could spam more miguel shitpost memes, but that would be a story for another day.

as miguel got notified that he was added to a server, the first thing that caught his eye was the vulgarly named channel of the server: "shitting on miggy". he brought his eyebrows together and tapped on the bold text of the channel's name. he asked what that channel was for, pointing out the name in a disappointed manner as he typed. lyla giggled under her breath as she watched miguel try to act intimidating and angry over text, but his scrunched up face crinkled even more as he saw that the first thing you sent him was a sticker of his stern, stoic face that had the words: "this ugly son of a bitch is fucking super hot chicks and basically you are fucking stupid. how? ...just watch the free video."

miguel had clicked the sticker, and he saw the file name: "singlehotmominyourarea". he huffed as he texted you, asking you what that was that you sent, because he thought it was an actual link to something. he took his reading glasses and, when he could make out what it said, he got angrier than he already was earlier. he told you what you sent was not at all funny, and when you replied that—no, it certainly wasn't... it was very hysterical, though—you sent him a very pink and cutesy sticker of him with cat ears. miguel groaned as lyla took a hundred screenshots remotely from his phone. "where are you even getting these?" he asked you as you kept sending him more shitpost stickers.

"but i don't even like horses." miguel muttered as he saw the "save a horse, ride a cowboy" sticker you sent. "yeah, you're scared of them." lyla reminded him as he rolled his eyes. "no need to remind me." he said as he typed out that he 'hated' (didn't fear, there's a difference, and that is that miguel is fucking lying, he is scared of horses) horses. but of course, you knew his secret, and miguel pounded his fist against the arm of his computer chair. "are you seriously telling them on your end?" he asked lyla as she stuck her tongue out and shrugged, looking all smug as miguel grumbled and told you that he didn't ask for your correction, only for you to send an emoji of your favorite girl dinner: his five course meal ass on display.

"yeah, you need ass correction 'bee cee' this bakery is packed; what...?" he read aloud as lyla groaned. "get with the times, old man." "we don't say stuff like that in 2099 anymore, don't tell me to get with the times." he told his AI assistant as he looked through the emoji catalogue you guys had, and among them all, a colorful one stood out to him and he sent it—hoping you could tell him what was on the emoji, but knowing you, you'd of course mess with him again. you told him the emoji, which was promptly named: "doublecheekedup", meant the very sticker you sent him in response. it was similar to the cat-eared one, but it read: "i <3 my girlfriend", with miguel's angry face in the heart.

miguel looked at it all confused and pulled his reading glasses away from his face and back on to see if he was reading this right. he asked you if he was supposed to be flattered about your sticker, with him immediately following up with his honest opinion; that it was irritating instead of flattering to him. you told him the sticker was more 'sexy' than it was irritating or flattering, and you soon sent him another sticker, where he was diving face first with his legs spread and bottom out. miguel looked at it all baffled and flustered, where were you getting these photos...?

you asked him who he was spreading for, asking if it was you, while sending him an emoji with his back turned to the camera and his ginormous bottom in full view. miguel couldn't make out the text in the emoji and told you the text was too minute for him to read it. he also cleared up that he wasn't intentionally spreading his cheeks for anyone, he had just 'stumbled'. "sure ya did." lyla said as she appeared over miguel's shoulder with a smug grin on her face. "i really didn't, though." miguel said as lyla nodded slowly, her smug grin not leaving her face as miguel saw your next message. "because you wanted to spread your asscheeks for me, i didn't spread for anybody!" he screamed aloud in the confines of his office, pounding his fist on the arm of his computer chair as you sent the girl dinner emoji that was the very profile picture of the spider society's discord server.

miguel was heated in the face and heaving... oh, was there some unspoken feelings he was hiding about your little provocative words? maybe... he might sound like he wants out of the server immediately, but deep in his heart, he'd stay; even if you'd annoy the shit out of him with those damned emojis and stickers. they were irritating, yes, and maybe just the tiniest bit flattering in a twisted way for him. "wow, you're a masochist." lyla pointed out as miguel mumbled for her to shut up, but she was right as always.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

[fandomwritingbit]

Caught out pt.2

William afton x fem reader x henry emily

A/n: Hiii, this is a part two of this fic I did a while ago. It's really long ngl over 7,000 words. To the person that requested a part two to this that focused more on the relationship between Henry and Will, I took some inspiration from that so thank you very muchly. I hope this reads well, I'll be editing it over the next few days because writer's block is shagging me hard rn.

Warnings: smut, oral, unprotected sex, inappropriate relationships, sexual tension between henry and william, y/n is absolute filth.

The day after Henry had debased himself, started off pretty shit. The restaurant was fully booked all day and it felt like there were over a million kids tearing through the building and creating havoc, along with many other reasons for the two co-owners to stay back after hours. They were so understaffed, two waiters and an entertainer had called in sick, forcing Henry and Will to step up a bit. Well, Henry stepped up, running plates, hosting, the works; William, though he was present, just cracked the whip on the employees that were there. Both had contemplated getting you out of the security office to help out, but the plethora of legal challenges they’d seen in the previous few weeks dissuaded them.

“Who’s fault is this?” William caught Henry’s arm, his expression as fumingly stoic as it had been so far all day. It was this side of William that initially drove Henry into merging with him, the no-nonsense, no-bullshit, pragmatic approach that he was too nice to use. When they were newly joined, grabbing his arm like this would have made Henry shit scared, just the sheer height of the man alone would’ve done it; now though, Henry just looked from his hand to Will’s face, scoffing. 

“Tiff was on bookings, I’m gonna have a word with her.” He pulled his arm free, “You do know, William, that we can’t have high numbers and easy service.”  

William sniggered, slightly surprised by Henry’s attitude, “Functional service would be nice, though.” 

~

All shit hit the fan about midday. 

And it hit the fan big time. A party of thirty and one of seventeen at the same time had all hands on deck, waiters sweating making sure patrons had everything they needed, bar staff making so many drinks that there wasn’t a gap left on the bar, and Henry and William were trying to cope with everything in between. Namely, trying to keep kids out of staff-only areas or from running full pelt into the servers carrying food and drinks, and keeping feuding chefs calm in the kitchen. The latter Henry’s domain, for obvious reasons. So when the shifty looking fellow slipped inside the building, it went unnoticed. 

“Excuse me?” a woman’s shrill voice called to William, obligating him to approach the table. He didn’t smile at her because the look on her face said this wasn’t a ‘compliments to the chef’ kind of thing. 

“Yes, ma’am?” 

“There’s plastic in my son’s pizza.” She pointed a thickly painted nail at the slice, showing the cling film sticking out underneath. Fuck’s sake.

He nodded, “Right. I’ll get you a new one.” As he spoke, he picked up the plate and the one with the rest of the pizza on it, cursing this whole fucking operation. 

“Got anything that doesn’t come out of a freezer?” she snapped, looking at him with such disapproval he felt a kid again. 

He just laughed at her. God, it was a £5 meal, she’s lucky they even heated it up for that. Neglecting to answer her, he gave a half-arsed apology and went towards the back kitchen to sort her out. 

Whilst this took place, a man with black gloves waited for the boy on the till to leave before wrenching the till open, shoving his hand inside to grab a fist-full of today’s earnings. The staff were too distracted to cop on, and alarm was only raised when the thief knocked into a server. 

“Hey what are you-” shoving her out the way, the figure moved towards the exit. The young lady got the attention of other staff who called out to the man but didn’t physically intervene, forcing the waitress to run to the kitchen and drag William out by his arm, babbling about what was happening.

He gave chase, following the thief out of the swinging doorway while the staff and patrons watched on in awe. It was at this point Henry burst out the kitchen as well, his face a mask of exasperation as he asked around to try and figure out what was going on. It seemed like no one really knew anything. No one knew where the day security guard was or how much money the thief had grabbed before bolting. 

“Fucking useless.” He mumbled under his breath, immediately kicking himself for how much he sounded like William.

It must have only been a couple of minutes before William walked back in, though it felt much longer. Henry looked to catch Will’s eye, quickly realising that he’d failed in the pursuit both the thief and the money by the slouching of his posture and the cut above his brow. He dabbed it with the side of his hand, smearing blood on his forehead. It was a sight and a half.

“You didn’t get him?” he kept his voice cautious, not wanting to send William over the edge.

He laughed, “Course I did. Fucker hit me and jumped in a car. I will say, he were well organised.” William winced again as he touched his cut, a streak of stark red trailing down the side of his face. Henry watched the movement thoughtfully, it wasn’t the first time he’d seen William like this, though usually he wasn’t sober. There was just something about it that made him feel deeply troubled and guilty. William Afton was powerful and scary. Handsome as the devil, everyone said it and the blood on his face tickled a part of Henry that he kept close to his chest and had done for years. 

Henry sighed, “You alright?” it’s asked nonchalantly but there is a tint of kindness on it. 

“Yeah. It’s going to keep bleeding though, you know what cuts to the face are like.” He again wiped the gash, the blood darkly pretty on his fingers. 

“No, no I don’t.” He shakes his head, he had too much sense to go about getting into fights. William just laughed, Henry's judgement always amused him. But his laughter died when Henry bluntly asked, “Don’t suppose you got a licence plate or anything?”

William’s face went stony, “Shit.” he muttered, feeling a little stupid but in fairness he was busy trying to catch the guy. The two were silent for a moment, the quiet awkward between them. Thankfully, it was broken when William again spoke, the idea hitting him out of nowhere, “The cameras. It wasn’t too far from the back doors, we might be able to get the plate on them.” 

Henry nodded, “Yeah I’ll go and check with y/n.” An odd weighty feeling fills the air at the mention of your name, a bizarre and new-found knowledge on the former’s part and gross pride on the other’s. He turns but stops still, “You should uh try and see how much they took. You know, look at the tickets and-”

“Yeah, I know how to do it, mate. Jesus.” he sniggers, not moving an inch out of principle, since when the fuck did Henry give him orders.

Exhaling through his nose, the sensible owner decides not to pursue what he’d asked him to do, hoping he’d comply without an argument, though what was more likely is that Henry would have to do that himself. He heads out the main restaurant and down the staff corridor, a growing feeling of anticipation at seeing you. He’s sure neither you or William know what he did, but the fear of discovery made him tense. 

Outside the security office door, he takes a breath before knocking, hating himself for being like this, if anyone should be ashamed it’s William, but as always he’s the one compensating. 

You open the door and are greeted by the pensive expression of Mr Emily, you knew exactly what he was going to ask and had been reviewing the footage yourself already. 

“Uh hey, y/n, can you show me the footage of the incident?” You step aside and let him into the cramped space, it’s a horrible office really, no windows and the monitor casting a grainy artificial light against the viewer. He would rather have you serving on the front but you insisted this was better because you, quote, ‘don’t want to deal with all the shit out there.’ End quote. 

“Yeah, sure. I had a look…” you speak whilst getting up the recording of the robbery, “but the fella has a hood up, you can’t see anything uh identifiable.” He glances at your face and is surprised to see you smiling, as you wind it back and play the recording for him. 

Your grin is pretty contagious and makes it hard to focus on the footage, “You find this funny?” His brow is narrowed, it’s not asked nastily more curiously. 

“The thieving? No, sir.” You try to disguise your snigger as you skip it forward a few seconds, to show William pulling the waitress off his arm and booking it out the door. “It’s uh that I find funny.”

He snickers himself, god this was a shit show. “Yes, I can see why.” 

“When I clip it for the police, I’ll leave that bit out… might be hard to explain what he was trying to do there.” You watch your boss nod his approval, an understanding between you to try and keep William out of the copper’s eye-lines.  

Henry then recalls what he said about the outside footage. “What about outside? William said that we might be able to see something on the cameras round the back.” 

“Ah yeah, good idea.” You go off the restaurant recordings, and on to the outside ones. They record a little differently in blocks of footage that display in a huge camera roll, you go to the section he means but scroll down too far, clicking on the wrong block. The two of you are met with yesterday’s footage of the bins and it takes you a fair few seconds to realise. 

“Oh this is yesterday’s.” Henry says the moment he clocks on and you blink trying to read the time and date stamp. 

“Oh sorry.” you rush to go back off that recording, hitting the wrong button and instead going to the rear interior cameras in the same block. The intake of breath from Mr Emily, makes you jump. 

“Ah- no. That’s ah-” The time it takes him to speak is enough for you to gauge the reason for his reaction. Though the footage isn't brilliant you can tell it’s him standing just outside William’s office, his back to the wall. It’s too grainy to see precisely but the movement is clear and pitifully familiar to you. You look at Henry for a moment, lips pursed in confusion, then it occurs to you to look at the timestamp: yesterday around 1:30pm, you were on your ‘lunch break’ then with Will- oh sweet lord. 

“Oh my God.” you say out loud, and Henry swears that this must be what a heart attack feels like. The dawning realisation on your face left him no room to lie his way out of it, sure it was muddy but shit, you can still tell he’s wanking. A disturbed and defeated noise escaped from his throat, “Mr Emily, is that-”

“God, just turn it off.” He speaks hoarsely, a little blunter than he meant, but when he pulls the courage to look at you he sees blatant amusement on your face. 

“Like Hell I will. You saw me and Will- Mr Afton in his office yesterday?” you enquire, smirk not budging an inch. 

“Yes.'' His voice is small as his eyes flicker between you and the footage, which is now reaching its literal and metaphorical climax. Your eyes go wide as you take it in, how he bites on his hand his back lifting off the wall, fucking his fist and letting himself spill on the floor.

“And you uh-”

“Yes.” Now he looks at you, his face red before he tries to grab the mouse, futile really, you’d already seen everything. The whole vile, carnal activity. Something so beneath him, it had been on his mind all day. He internally interrogated himself as to how he didn't think about the cameras, the stupid horny bastard he was. Couldn’t wait to get back to the privacy of his office- no he didn’t want to because the sounds of his co-worker and employee screwing was what was getting him off. 

You move it out of his grasp, your eyes sharp scrutiny on his shame. “God, Mr Emily.” you giggle, a sudden giddiness surging through your veins. If you had known that he was there he could have come in and gotten a better view, the mere thought of that made arousal twitch between your legs. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you finally speak again. 

Confusion again twists his features, “What?” He looks handsome like that, you muse. 

“Do you… fancy me, Mr Emily?” A flash of something foreign crosses his face, he just looks at you until you prompt him again, “Well?”

He scoffs, “I- well, you’re attractive, yes. What do you want me to say?” His tone is tinged with disbelief, he can’t believe you’re still in here with him, talking to him, not running into the restaurant to tell William, disgust etched on your face. 

You beam, he really did, it was written on his face. Circumstantial or not, the idea of having two fit older men interested in you, burned your blood. “Then you could’ve said something… I feel guilty if you felt, you know, left out.” 

He’s so speechless he might as well be a statue, so you fill the silence again, “It’s good to know.” He’s just mesmerised by your reaction, you’re almost flirting with him, unperturbed by that god-awful footage, no, engaged by it.

“I’m sorry.” He manages finally, resisting the urge to wipe the sweat from his hands. 

“Don’t be.” You shake your head, still smiling. “I’ll sort the recordings. Check for a number plate and clip it for a report.” You slowly place a hand on his arm, stroking up and down, captivated by the effect you were having on him, you felt powerful almost. “So you don’t have to worry. You can go.” 

And he does. He leaves the room without saying a word, shell-shocked into silence. Your reaction wasn’t what he would have thought, but it still scared him because he knew he was going to be the next topic of conversation between you and William, and if he were to confront him, that heart attack probably would materialise. God, if you only knew the half of who he fancied.

~

The next time you see William, is again during your contracted hours, this time leaving the door purposely open despite his protests, a secret hope that Henry might again come down the corridor, no pun intended. You’d rode William to oblivion in his office chair, taking exactly what you wanted from the man in the form of his huge cock stretching your little hole open. 

Now you remain sat on his lap, watching his hand toy with the mess both of you had made between your legs, his fingers pushing his release back inside, thinking to himself how pretty you looked fuck open like that, full of him just how you wanted. 

“I want to talk to you.” You say through a grin, pulling his hand away and towards your lips, where you suck the mixture of the two of you from his fingers, your tongue swirling reminding him of something else you’re more than good at. A low noise from his chest at the sight makes you smile again. 

He smirks, “This is the bit where you ask me for something, huh?” 

“Nothing you won’t like.” You bite the tips of his fingers, holding them for just a moment between your teeth, making him groan. “Do you know about Mr Emily?” The second you ask it he pulls his hand away, cupping under your jaw. 

“What about him?” 

“He saw us the other day. You know on your desk.” You don’t need to jog his memory, he recalls that in explicit detail. 

“Yeah, got quite the eyeful I imagine. Looked mortified.”

“Oh my god, He didn’t tell you.” You laugh, “Not that I blame him.” adjusting yourself before sliding from his knee. You pull up your panties and then the trousers you were wearing, scanning the room for wherever the hell your shoes have gone. When you look back to him, his brow is furrowed. 

“Don’t tease me, sweetheart, what’s this about?” You can tell that despite the casualness of his tone he really wants to know and your cocky expression was grating on him already. Clearly you talking about Henry was of great interest to him. 

So you smile, taking a moment to enjoy the look on his face before giving him the story, in as much detail as you can. You describe the footage you’d found, how even through the pixels you could tell he touched himself desperately, his pace rushed either due to fear of discovery or simple greediness. You tell him how his coworker was so thoughtless as to let his release fall on the floor, and dirty enough to leave it there. 

William looked at you with a grin, he could taste the second-hand embarrassment on his partner's behalf, thinking to himself that Henry must feel like shit right now. When you finish with some clear glee on your face he chuckles, “Dirty bastard.” He paused, an expression flashing across his face that you’d never seen before. “...Did he delete the footage?”

You laugh, “Why? You want to see it?” You half expected his face to fall at that accusation but a grin just cut wide on his face. “I deleted it.” you shoot him down.

“Well then, that’s a wasted opportunity. You never know when that kind of thing can be of use.” He spoke whilst standing up, pulling the lever under his chair up to return it to the height he needed it, not the one you did to ride him. He moved to begin sorting his desk out but his hands stuttered, not sure where to even begin with how behind on work he was. 

“Cold, Afton.” You grin. “You didn’t actually let me finish.” That caught his attention again and he turned to face you, leaning back on his desk before gesturing at you to continue. 

“I said I deleted it. Only fair, I wouldn’t want Mr Emily to feel… slighted.” You sigh, watching him look at you expectantly. You make him wait a fair while before you dig in your back pocket and clack a USB down on the desk next to him. The blooming smile on his face motivates you to ask him for a ‘favour’. 

Clearly there is something of a tension between the two co-owners. And that can be toxic to a business’ success. Though that’s probably not the real reason for you wanting to relieve it.

William moves to pick it up, but you quickly snatch it from the table, holding it between two fingers you drag it up under his chin. “You can have it… for whatever pervers reasons you really want it.”

“But?”

The saccharine look on your face as you speak is like hypnotism at its finest. “I like the idea of two men wanting me. Like I really like it.” you draw out your words for maximum effect.

He tilts his head back in laughter, “Of course you do.”

You’re not entirely happy with the implications of that. “Hey, at least I’m brave enough to ask for what I want.” 

“And you want to fuck him?” The words are quick and harsh off his tongue. “And you’re what, asking for my permission?” 

A short laugh escapes you. “No. But I do want to fuck him. But I don’t want to make you jealous, so maybe there’s a middle ground. If you get me?” He evidently does, judging by that delicious pinch between his brows. For a moment you think you’ve pushed things a little too far, maybe hit a nerve even, so you just blink at him prettily, hoping that that will nudge him in the direction you want. 

Finally, he sniggers, “... You’re asking me… If I will tag-team you. With a bloke I've known for nearly twenty years?” He laughs incredulously before running his tongue over his teeth. The emphasis of the last part makes you resign yourself to the no, you think you’re about to hear.

“Uh yeah..?” Your tone is as cautious as you can make it, whilst your eyes rake over his face for some read of his opinion on the matter. 

But he just leaves you hanging, sniggering away. Clearly he’s made a decision and you won’t get to know until he thinks you need to. 

~

Later that evening after grabbing his old and dusty but trusty jacket off the hook in his office, Henry checks the pocket for his car keys and wallet. Sighing as the events of the day caught up to him, he finally clocks off just after 11pm, and he’s more than ready to fall into bed. 

He pokes his head around the door of William’s office just to give him the polite goodnight that was expected but is greeted by pitch black emptiness. He tries not to be pissed off that the bastard has gone home already and left him working away without a word exchanged. But it's largely unsuccessful, and he finds himself huffing and puffing as he goes to the front of the building to check everythings been locked up properly.

The restaurant always hits different after hours, an unacquainted person would probably find it creepy what with the children’s play area all shrouded in darkness and the curtains drawn on the stage blowing just a little from the ventilation. Hell, he was beginning to find it unnerving himself. 

The interior doors were locked and bolted and the shutters were down, making this whole thing a little pointless, but if he hadn’t checked he’d be halfway home itching with uncertainty. Especially with the robbery that just happened. 

“You know you could have just checked from outside?” A voice says in the dark of the restaurant, making Henry turn like a gunshot towards it. It takes him a minute in his surprise to clap his eyes on William sitting in a corner booth with his feet on the table. In the complete fucking dark. 

“Jesus, William.” He snaps, moving to the wall to flick the lights back on. When he does, the lurker winces in the bright artificial light. “What are you doing?” 

In response, he slides a bottle of whiskey across the table, one that he’d drunk nearly half of already. “Drinking.” His words are a little slurred so he clears his throat. “Drink with me, Henry.” 

Henry scoffs, “Drinking alone in the dark. New low, even for you.” 

Cackling, William puts his hand over his heart, “Ouch. Well, I'm not alone now, am I? Sit down.” He gestures in line with his words, nodding towards the other side of the booth. 

“It’s late, I should-” He begins his protest but is immediately cut off by an overexaggerated reaction from his counterpart. 

“Oh for the love of god, man. Fucking sit down.” He rolls his eyes, still not moving his feet from the table, even when Henry obeys and sits down opposite him. In Henry’s experience it’s best not to argue with William when he’s half-cut, the man could be persuasive, bordering on naggy.  

It’s only when he’s already sat down that he realises the drunk has only got one glass, he pours it for Henry and then takes a swig directly from the bottle. 

“Thought you were saving this for a special occasion?” He asks, twisting the bottle to read the label and humming approval to himself that this was good shit. Truth be told he hasn’t drunk with William for what must be a couple of years, so this proposal mixed with his posh whiskey stank of an ulterior motive. 

“I’m sick of looking at it.” He answered, slowly leaning his head backwards to rest it against the wall and close his eyes. Henry watched the movement over the brim of his glass. He spent many years working with this man, but it only dawned on him once in a while how handsome he was. Not a hallmark prince kind of handsome, but in a rugged, sleazy, scary sort of way, no wonder you’d trotted so happily to bed with him- or rather to his office on your lunch break. He almost laughed as that thought occurred to him. God, he was jealous, and he hated himself for it. 

Suddenly, William shook his head and sat up straighter. “Fuck, I’m nearly mortal.” He snickered, before taking another swig from the bottle, then pouring more in Henry's glass. "Away, mate. You've got catching up to do." 

Although he tried, Henry would have needed another bottle to make it to William’s level of pissed. Still though, a little over an hour later his head was swimming and even just sitting in this booth was testing his balance. 

He shifts in his place, instantly regretting it “Shit. God… I need to stop. Gonna fucki-” He felt like he was going to hit the deck, yet William seemed to have gone the other way, leaning with his head in his hands giggling at nothing. 

“Language, Emily!” He chastised, “Never known you to have such a dirty mouth.” Looking over at the other man, William could tell he’d drunk well too much. He never could handle it that well, it showed immediately in his eyes, that kind of glassy look that was undeniably due to intoxication; many times the two of them had gotten denied service from pubs for exactly that reason. 

His words made Henry look up properly, a bit taken aback by his coworker. Obviously, he was joking, hardly a sentence from William could go by without some flavour of profanity, but that ‘dirty mouth’ comment was like ice down his spine. He said something like that to you when he eavesdropped on the two of you, in such a darkly aroused way that it stuck with him, practically haunting him. “Just shut up, man.” He mumbled, unhappy with the half a smile crossing his face.

William scoffed, leaning forward across the table to snatch the glasses off Henry’s face. He tried to grab them back, but as always, Will was too quick. 

“What the hell are you-”

He laughed, putting the glasses on himself and blinking quickly in pantomime, “God, you’re really fucking blind, huh?” 

Unable to stop himself from smiling, Henry leans to again try and take them back. He's met with William tilting his head to allow him to pluck them from his face, chuckling like a schoolboy. 

Henry feels his face heat up more than he would have liked. “Yeah, that’s why I wear them. Fuck’s sake.” 

“I forgot you’re so moody on the drink, lighten up, dickhead.”

For a moment Henry just laughed in disbelief, thinking to himself that he can’t be serious. “At least it’s only when I’m drinking, you’re a stormy bastard all the time.” Will’s eyebrows raised in response, he didn’t have a lot to say to that, largely because it’s true. His mood could sway the whole staff’s, his bad day was everyone’s problem, most of all Henry’s. 

William hummed for a beat, taking the time to think if he really wanted to say what he was about to. Your words from earlier echoing in his mind. “You’re right, you know.” He smirked then, a proper conniving expression that almost bordered on sinister. “I’ll have to make it up to you then… Call in on me tomorrow. I have something for you.” 

~

And now is the waiting game. Your shift went relatively quickly and painlessly. Bookings have been strictly limited after yesterday's fiasco that led to the thief digging around the cash register, so it was almost quiet. And now you sit on your boss’s very familiar knee, practically vibrating with excitement. You lean your head back to rest on his shoulder, slowly grinding your hips back and forth on his lap, knowing how much it wound him up. 

“You really can’t wait, can you?” His voice is low and teasing like always, but you don’t miss the way his fingers tap against the top of the desk: he’s nervous. 

You smile, “What? I’m excited.” You roll your hip particularly hard, pleasure jolts through your system when you feel that William is pretty excited himself. “I can’t believe he agreed to this. I’ve always wanted to have two blokes fight over me.” You punctuate your point by pressing your lips against the underside of his jaw. 

He snickers from just above you, “Can I tell you something?” A large hand comes up from your ribs to grab a handful of your breast which you arch your back into. “He didn’t exactly agree.” The second the sentence leaves him, you sit upright, turning to face him. 

Your eyes narrow. “What are you saying?” 

“I told him I have something for him, not that-” Your scoffing cuts him off .

“You- he doesn’t know that I’m here to… You’re such a fucking arsehole!” You could almost hit him, if Henry has no idea what this is all about, it’s not going to happen is it? Disappointment courses through you. “I can’t believe you-” You go to stand and grab your shit and leave, but he catches your hips and pulls you back down on top of him. 

He holds you firm, just grinning at the angry line between your brows. “Calm down, sweetheart. Alright? Just bat your eyes at him like you’re so good at and you’ll get what you want.”

Just as you open your mouth to give Will your grievances, the two of you hear polite knocking from the office door which then slowly cracks open showing a tentative looking Henry. 

The second he claps eyes on not only William but you too, the man feels anxiety prickle all over him as a million thoughts cross his mind. Seriously, what the fuck is this? Some kind of gang up on Henry, make him feel like shit for what he did the other day, situation? Fuck, the shame around him was not only tangible but so thick it was practically visible. 

But not wanting to draw attention to his hallway activity, he elects for a “Oh hey, y/n.” Before he focuses his gaze on William, “What is this then?” 

He laughs, “I said I had something for you…” William then takes his hands off your hips, freeing you to move as you’d like. But before you do, he whispers something unintelligible to Henry in your ear. Something that makes the hard line of your mouth soften considerably. 

“Well, love. You still want to play?” The words caress your skin and it dawns on you that you do. Fuck, you really want to play. And you’ve already gone to all this effort… it would be a shame to waste such an opportunity. You nod at William and slide off his lap, then walking over to Henry who still stood awkwardly a pace away from the door. 

You walk right up to him, standing a little too close to him, so close he feels an automatic blush spread across his cheeks. “I uh…” you begin but falter immediately. The confusion on his face was crystal clear. “I can’t get that image of you out of my head. You know, the footage?... I think I enjoyed that more than a normal person should. I thought maybe we could have some fun- if that’s what you want, obviously.” You keep your voice down instinctively, maybe hoping internally it’d be out of William’s earshot. 

He killed that thought with, “Careful, y/n. His glasses will steam up.” The cockiness coating the words made the other man scowl, which in turn just made Will laugh. 

“Shut it, Will.” You interject, your eyes not moving from Henry as you read him for reaction. 

“...This really isn’t a good idea.” He speaks slowly, voice cracking on the first word, making him have to clear his throat to continue. This was baffling, and he couldn’t tell if it was some sick joke between you and William, something designed to cripple him emotionally. But looking closer, from your small smile to his set jaw made him think that maybe, maybe this was a real proposal. 

“Respectfully,” you take another step forward, so close to Henry that you could smell his aftershave. “I disagree.” Your hand rises up to rest on his chest, a finger prying under the lapel of his jacket.  

He chuckles in complete disbelief, flicking his eyes over to William, who still sat cock-sure as hell in his office chair.  “Don’t look at me, mate. This is all her.” He waves a calculatedly dismissive hand as he speaks, trying to disguise the tension he was wrapped in.   

“Yeah but…” The words fail Henry when you continue touching him, stroking his chest in just the right way to get the physical reaction from him that you wanted. “If I do something, are you going to rough me up?” He attempts some level of nonchalance, but it doesn’t carry at all. 

William sniggers then, “I think she’ll do a good enough job of that on her own.” You giggle, curling your fingers under the lapel and pulling Henry so close that your lips are only an inch away from his making him groan slightly. 

“So what do you say, Henry?” You breathe, already knowing the answer but wanting to make sure that this is something that he wanted. He doesn’t respond verbally, only closing the gap between the two of you with a surprisingly firm kiss. You reciprocate, excitement bubbling in your core, this was insane, not only was it two handsome men here with you at once, but both your bosses, this was certainly going to bollocks up your professional relationships. 

You take both Henry’s hands and place them on your hips, giving him all the cues to deepen this kiss, which he does by sliding his tongue into your mouth and twirling it alongside yours. You let out a light moan, if he kept hitting you with all these surprises this was going to be even more fun than you initially thought. When you press yourself flush against him, it strikes him out of nowhere that this is real, you, pretty little you, were kissing him, pressing against him hungrily, eager for him. It excites him enough for his hands to rake over you, one cupping your tit and the other pinching your arse in such a way that makes you briefly rise to your toes. 

You mouth the word ‘fuck’ against his lips before he puls away slightly and buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing along your skin until he found your sweet spot. Your hand tangles itself in his hair, encouraging him to keep pulling these cute noises from you. One particularly pretty gasp for you makes him look up, instantly catching William’s eye, his stomach twisting when he sees him chuckling and shaking his head. You grab under his chin, forcing him to put his attention back on you. 

You look over your shoulder, “Have you got a confused jealousy boner, Will?” 

He laughs at your meanness, “If I have to watch, at least put on a show.” You grin before turning back to Henry, intending to follow his advice. You lightly push Henry back until his back catches a side table, there you trail your hand down his body before taking the tent in his trousers in your hand, making him groan again, the sound vibrating through his chest. 

You begin to stroke him slowly over the fabric, grinning up at him, “Fuck, that security footage was so hot, Henry.” You bite your bottom lip and he swears he’s going to melt. “Will you show me in person?”

You feel his cock twitch and it spurs on the wetness now seeping between your legs and collecting in your panties. His hands replace yours, moving to slowly undo his belt, the clinking sound all too revealing, then his fly underneath. You dive in then, helping him pull his trousers down. Flicking your gaze between his eyes and his cock, you trail your finger over the bulge, stopping just at the waistband of his boxers and making him wait in anticipation before you hook your fingers under the fabric and pull them down, letting his hardness spring between your bodies. 

The look on your face is so damn dirty, your pupils so huge that he just blinks at you, gasping when you grab hold of him, feeling his length. He’s thick and you just know he’s going to feel so fucking right inside you. Spitting in your hand, you start a slow pace of stroking him, all teasing, really making him feel every little thing you give him, his twisting expression motivating you to keep it nice and easy. 

“This enough of a show for you?” You say to William, and Henry turns to look at him like he forgot he’s there. 

“Please, sweetheart. I know you can do better than that.” He makes a point of looking the two of you up and down before glancing at Henry and flashing the most wolfish smirk going, making his stomach twist with something absolutely filthy. 

William watches as you grin, his hand taking hold of himself over his trousers. You look such a pretty thing sliding down to your knees, still pumping Henry, though now it was becoming a more substantial pace. His breath audibly hitched when he looked down at the sight of you stroking his cock like that, looking so needy for it. You open your mouth, placing the head of his cock on your tongue for a moment before wrapping your lips around him. You suck him just as tantalisingly, hollowing your cheeks to take as much of him as you could, working your tongue perfectly on the underside of his length. His head was completely empty, soft grunts escaping him when you took him deep in your throat. How the fuck was this even happening? How the fuck was William okay with it? 

From across the room, you both hear the shifting of him standing up, your eyes move to what you could see of him in your peripheral but you don’t stop, if anything you start bobbing your head with more gusto, your hands taking his base and softly stroking him to your rhythm. Henry just stares at William, his hands white knuckling against the table in an effort not to cry out- god, you’re too fucking good at this. No wonder he’s so fond of you. 

William stands behind you, his frame casting an imposing shadow over you on the floor, you can’t help but smile- well, smile as much as you can. He looks between the two of you, watching you give Henry probably the best blowjob of his life, before looking back to Henry’s reddened face, he could tell he’s biting the inside of his cheek, which makes him snigger. He grabs hold of your hair, taking a firm grip of it and following your movement. 

Henry moans and the shame that accompanies it is almost instant. What the hell was he doing? His scrutiny was fucking awful and maybe would’ve made him want to stop, if you weren’t taking him so well. 

“She’s such a good girl, huh?” His voice makes your skin pucker with goosebumps, fuck he sounds so good when he’s horny. 

Henry would have agreed, but all words are absent when Will uses your hair to control your movement. A sudden emerging urge to hear what kind of sounds Henry can make taking over him. You moan, hand reaching in reflex around his wrist, though you let him do as he wishes. He pushed your head further down on Henry’s cock, making tears spring at the corners of your eyes. And then moves you back and forth, forcing you to keep up with it. Something about it is so dirty you can’t help but shift your position so your pussy is rubbing against your heel, the small sensation absolute bliss.   

William catches on quickly and pulls your head back so Henry’s cock pops lewdly from your mouth. You speak immediately, your voice breathy, “Feeling left out?” 

Henry watches in something close to awe as William tilts your head all the way back so you’re looking up at him, his finger rubbing over your lips, the smirk on his face mean. “I agreed to share, not witness.” He leans down and pulls your shirt up, somehow managing to manoeuvre it over your head easily, despite the carnage. He waits, unsure of what to do, his cock glistening with your spit when he takes it in his hand, looking to see your bra being unhooked and the sight of your perfect tits. 

William hooks under your arms and lifts you up, in quite the show of strength, onto the side table. You giggle, “You’re not very good at sharing then.” as you look between the two men, your legs spreading automatically to let William pull your trousers off, your wet panties exposed, he runs his fingers over the damp fabric eliciting a pleased sound from both you and Henry who now touched himself at the view in front of him. 

“You really liked sucking his dick, didn’t you?” His tone is all mocking, though you pick up on a hint of something else. You just nod and lift your hips up against his hand, he obeys your silent ask, quickly sliding your knickers down to your knees and placing his thumb on that needy clit of yours. He gives you just what you need, drawing circles over your bundle of nerves, glancing at Henry whilst he does so, catching his gaze as it flicks from somewhere else, embarrassment written on his face.   

He shakes his head at him before placing his hands on your thighs to keep you open for him as he bends down and replaces the stimulation with his tongue. You grab him instantly, and your want for him makes Henry stroke his cock again, he almost wants to laugh at this attempt to show off, but there’s no denying the look on your face as you roll your hips against him, incoherent moans fleeing your lips. Clearly, William is good at that because when he adjusts his position to press his fingers inside you, you cry out, the sound insanely pornographic. He presses his digits inside you just right, playing you like a fucking violin and you’re close, just the sight of Henry watching could have got you there, but the angle of his fingers pressed against the part of you that made coming undone inevitable. 

William grunts into your pussy, when your hand in his hair lets him know you’re going to cum. You’re a bad one for that, grabbing onto him in your fretful wave, when you’re scared he’s not going to let you get there, his back is covered in scratches from you for precisely that reason. He grabs at himself, palming his erection to the rhythm of your noises and not entirely succeeding. Henry notices immediately, unable to decide what he wants to watch more, you gagging for it, begging to cum, or Will getting off on it.

“Fuck. Will, please.” You choke out, the fucking of his fingers shoving you closer and closer to your end, so quick its near unbearable. He doesn’t stop, curling his fingers more to get you there, still sucking mercilessly on your clit. It hits you hard, your back arching as you cum, your walls clenching tightly around his fingers, fluttering in such a way that it makes it impossible not to bust inside you.

William pulls away from you when your waves begin to die out, to enjoy the sight of you, grinning when he sees Henry looking ragged. 

You see it too, the furrowed brow, sweat lingering on his forehead showing that he’d enjoyed that nearly as much as you had, edging himself helplessly to your pleasure. You can see the precum leaking from his tip and even though you’ve just cum you want more. You want to make him cry. 

“Henry…” The second you say his name he quivers, he remembers your voice sounding like that from before, but the glazed over, fucked out look on your face is new. “Can you fuck me?” You’re sitting up on the table as you speak, your cunt flushed and shining. And you certainly don’t need to ask twice. 

You stand and push him down so he’s sitting in William’s chair, not missing the pissed off look on Will’s face that screams ‘what about me?’.

You straddle Henry facing out towards William, blinking pretty at him whilst rubbing your slick pussy against the other’s cock. Hoping he gets the practicality of this position. Reading your mind, he steps forward, taking your chin in his grip as his foot reaches under the chair to push the lever up, causing you and Henry to drop down roughly to a much more useful height. Henry moans, the jolting movement making him drag against your cunt in the most desperate way. 

It’s not long before you’re lost in the obliteration of two fellas at once. Henry’s thick cock deep inside you, stretching you around him. His hands cup under your behind to give him the space he needs to fuck up into you. You’re whining from it, loving the feeling of his pace, or you would be, if not for your lips being wrapped around William’s cock stifling the sound.

If anyone was outside the door in the former's previous position, they might fall victim to the same impulse he did. The lewd sounds of one using your mouth like his fucktoy and the other fucking out your dripping pussy, no doubt very obvious. As is the mixture of grunts and moans. You can't help but be so thankful for coming across that footage.

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf william afton #fnaf smut #william afton x you #henry emily #henry emily x reader #henry emily x you #afab reader

[kadextra]

q!Forever & q!Bad, comedy and tragedy are two sides of the same coin

(little meta rp analysis & appreciation)

Comedy and tragedy- complimentary concepts when it comes to the dynamic that is these two characters.

Their lore together is truly like a soap opera to me in the way it operates, entertaining in how goofy it is- I laughed so much during interrodate. They had a whole elaborate musical prank war over a stolen gun (which neither of them even had, they’re just too dedicated to the bit.) The first thing they say to each other after q!Forever returns from the nether is “You look terrible!” 💀 and my guy gifted a bloody chainsaw as the flower of the day to q!Bad in purgatory 1 which was happily accepted.

Even when the characters show attraction for each other, it’s usually through some ridiculous romcom thing. q!Forever is in love with q!Bad dressed as pink barbie and thinks photos of her are the best gift a person could ever receive?? 🤨 q!Bad daydreams about q!Forever as a lobster with blonde hair and a six-pack??? brother be projecting him onto larry the lobster from spongebob squarepants dude what is wrong with them 😭 sometimes I wonder how they’re able to do all these bits in improv and take it seriously, it’s impressive

The characters are not normal, their relationship is not normal, it cannot be viewed normally. the ccs know exactly what they’re doing in creating whatever *gestures* this is, and it’s amazing. over the top, cute, played perfectly for comedy

But the characters aren’t just that, you can’t have them without the inverse 🎭 like a punch to the gut after all the sillies, they really know how to do tragedy well.

I very much look forward to whenever they’re at the top of their angst game, bc they both LOVE to make their cubitos suffer. to an insane degree. My god these two can’t go 3 days with their characters experiencing some peace and joyful whimsy, they *must* rp their ocs actively dying, horribly diseased, going crazy

And they go hard with it. I’m very serious when I say multiple times during the lore I’ve had to get up and walk away to calm down because it was too intense. super special shoutout to the q!Forever first happy pills arc stream & October 1st q!Bad psychotic breakdown stream. I’ve never been so shocked as I was watching those live, the stamina to do highly emotional rp like that is actually nuts. some of the most angsty mfs on this server fr (the #1 spot goes to quackity though. hey maybe i’ll make a tierlist)

So when Bad & Forever bring the best of their angst ability into serious rp interactions together that Aren’t comedic…? we are in for a treat. that talk they had right when q!cellbit died to the code, the richas rescue mission, the election, voting arguments, post-ron kidnapping, colorblind test/therapy, flower of the day. many scenes that are seared into my mind, but none is more so than The Happy Pills Proposal. goosebumps whenever I think about it… the scene ever. the way it was framed, the lines they said, how it had tense, chilling buildup before a literal explosion. how are these people capable of doing the most silly things and then turning around to stab us in the heart 50 times

So you bet I’m crossing my fingers for a meeting between @v@ & q!Bad. Forever is absolutely killing the role so far. If q!Bad gets involved I can already taste the glorious angst…. since he has specific traumatic experience in also being possessed, & having killed his possessed friends in another life. he recalled the memory when talking about how to save q!Forever last night. fun! *shaking*

anyways that’s all :D love these characters, I had been wanting to do a little meta appreciation post for a while so I thought why not now ^^

#qsmp #qsmp forever #qsmp badboyhalo