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spookysteddie · 5 months

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Always Comin’ Home to You

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

18+ MINOR DNI

dec: after a fight with his step-mother Gator comes home late, scaring you. His bruises tell you of the day he had and all he wants is to feel you.

cw: Swearing, abandonment, mental / physical abuse (Roy to Gator), domestic abuse (Roy to Karen), bruises, mention of death, implication of anxiety, murder, toxic religion themes, gator calls his step-mom a cunt, crying, fingering, daddy kink, dd/lg themes if you squint, Gator calls himself her God (what's the name for that?), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, promises. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.7k

a/n: I need Gator Tillman like I need to fucking breathe. This man is WOW. I just want to pet him and tell him he is, in fact, a winner and then suck him off. Anyway, I hope y'all like this heheh

...

Gator Tillman didn’t have a lot of good things in his life.

Between his mother leaving, his father being as asshole and everything in between, Gator was a little fucked up and very morally gray. Doing his daddy's dirty work in the hopes Roy will finally be proud of him.

Now, there was one good thing (or person) in his life, one human who brought out the best in him. One person who saw him for the person he was deep inside. The one who saw him as a winner.

You.

You were everything Gator could ever dream of, his perfect girl.

“Gator? Baby have you seen my sunglasses?” You pull some clothes out of the hamper, double (triple) checking that they weren’t in there. “Do you have them? Are they in your cruiser?!”

You hear Gators heavy footsteps before he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, “have ya checked on top of ya head?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and instantly you want to punch him.

You were an angel and subsequently the sweetest girl. Shit, you make Gator catch and release the spiders you find in the house because you ‘want someone to grant you the same kindness in life’. Whatever that means. But of course he does it, because the last thing he wants is to make you cry.

Well, that’s not true. He loves making you cry while your wrapped around his cock, fucking you so deep and hard that you can’t form a complete thought. Only then does he enjoy the tears streaming down your face.

But at the same time, you had a wicked attitude. One he liked to fuck outta you at every opportunity. And when you look up at him he knows it’s coming.

“Do they look like they’re on my fuckin’ head, Gator? Jesus Christ.” But he doesn't fail to notice you subtly check in the mirror to make sure they aren’t actually on your head. They aren’t, for the record.

Gator is not like his daddy. Does he have his fathers attitude? Absolutely. But he has never raised his hand to you outside of the bedroom, much to his fathers dislike. Claiming he’s watched his father beat on his step-mother and even though he hates her – only because she gave birth to his twin sisters, giving his father two more chances to fuck their futures up – he doesn’t think it’s right.

He balls his fists, nails digging into the center of his hand. He has too much shit to do today and, frankly, doesn’t have time for this shit. “Watch ya mouth bunny. Lucky my dad aint home to hear you take Christs name in vain.”

Gator is right. His daddy already doesn't like you, doesn’t think you’re Godly enough. He also seems to think you’re an idiot simply because Gator does everything for you, even down to tying your shoes. It’s something Gator likes doing, taking care of you as it helps ease his mind.

But at the same time Roy wonders how his son could catch and keep a girl like you. It’s emotional whiplash most of the time. Of course, Gator takes the brunt of his daddy's issues when it comes to you, never letting his daddy so much as look wrong in your direction.

You sigh, running your hands down your pink skirt, “look, can you please help me find them? You know my eyes don’t do well with the sun bouncing off the snow.”

His eyes soften, loving when you need his help, “I’m willin’ to bet they’re in the cruiser on the floor boards.”

Your face heats as you remember exactly why they’d be on the floor of the cruiser, your escapades from your little meeting at the police station last night. There was always that preliminary fuck before going back to Roys (cause God forbid Gator ever come stay at your place. His daddy needs him nice and close.) considering you don’t know how to keep your moans quiet. So, he tires you out, not so much that you can’t drive back to his place, but just enough to where you’re silent during round two and three and four.

The cold nips at your bare legs, winter just as brutal as every other year in this godforsaken state. You swear it never gets easier, winter, and the older you get the more you think about moving south. You think Gator would like the warmer weather, probably find the warmth soothing.

“Ah ha! Got ‘em!” Gator hands them to you with a huge smile on his face. He looks almost boy-like. It’s rare he has a genuine smile, especially when his daddy is around.

“Gator,” his step-mothers voice rings out from the porch, making you both jump. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing his frustration. “Stop yellin’ cause your sisters are sleepin’!”

“Karen, they’re at the other end of this fuckin house and your scratchy ass voice is louder than me.”

You can see her huff, “I should call your father!”

He sighs, turning on his heel, “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. Dad’s… a little busy today.” Gator knows exactly what his daddy is busy with, not that he’d ever tell you. Terrified that he would somehow put you in danger.

You know that there was shit his daddy made him do. Things that forced him to come home with black eyes, bloody lips and bruises on his knuckles and body. It hurt your heart every time he came home like that, telling you it was nothing while he winces as he takes off his clothes.

Karen seethes from the porch and you see her look from Gator to you and back. Gator, who notices everything, sees it and steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. “Don’t look at her like that, Karen.”

That seems to annoy her more, “she better not be here tonight. You hear me? Don’t need your sisters hearin the stuff you two get up to at night.”

“Not any worse than dads hands hittin’ your face while they sit at the kitchen table.” You cringe at his statement, seeing Roy hit Karen more times than you can count. “You don’t run this house. Or tell me what to do.” He spits on the ground and turns away, waiting till he hears the door slam to speak.

“I fuckin hate her. She’s sucha little bitch.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, breathing him in. “Can stay at mine tonight if you want. Don’t wanna get you in trouble,” you murmur into his shirt. “O-or we can spend a night apart. I know we haven’t done that inna while but just till this blows over an’ we know she didn’t say nothin’ to your father.”

You know you're rambling, but all you want is to make Gators life comfortable and safe. You know there is a small chance that Karen will call Roy, tell him what happened, maybe even lie (she’s done that before) and say you upset her. If that happens, Gator will get it good, possibly another broken arm or dislocated jaw. That’s the last thing you want. You can feel you chest ache, eyes burning at the idea of Roy hurtin’ him.

Gator pulls your face back from his chest, making you look up at him, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me now. Roy ain’t gonna do shit and I don’t sleep when you aren’t curled up next to me,” he kisses your forehead. “I’ll put some feelers out to see if that little bitch called him. Gotta meeting at 3 with him.”

You nod, your hand coming up to fix his jacket. In reality, you just need something to distract from the burning behind your eyes.

“Hey? I’m serious. I’ll be fine, okay?” He lets you go to reach into his pocket, pulling out some cash and handing it to you, “why don’t you go get your nails done or something, yeah?”

You know refusing to take the money wont go well, so you take it, putting it in the pocket of your jacket. “Thank you, daddy,” you whisper out, knowing you aren’t really supposed to say that outside of Gators locked bedroom door.

He lets it slide, the day has been stressful enough for you. “That’s my good bunny. Now, run along and I’ll meet you here at six okay?”

You tilt your head, “no station tonight?”

“Nah… Jerry is working and he’s got a starin’ problem when it comes to ya. Don’t feel like scoopin’ eyeballs out. Too messy.”

You shudder but kiss him goodbye before getting in your car. You have a very bad feeling his 3pm meeting isn’t going to go how he expects.

…

You were right.

You knew you were right the second you pulled up to his house at six on the dot and he wasn’t home. You reach for your phone, looking to see if maybe you’d missed a text, phone call, shit even an email from your boyfriend.

Nothing.

Even when you try to call him, you're met with a voicemail. You can feel the bile rise in the back of your throat, fear making your skin itch. Was this it? Was this the time Roy sends him out there to do his dirty work and he doesn’t make it home?

He could be anywhere right now. Not only that, if he was dead, no one would do shit for him. No funeral, no service, nothing. His dad would go on and wipe his hands clean of his “loser” son, probably more than happy that the ties of his first wife are gone for good.

Oh God, what if he was dying, the cold freezing the blood onto his skin, frostbite settling in. He could be so scared, praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that you come find him. His clothes are probably wet too, sticking to him thanks to the sn-

A knock on your window makes you jump, a yelp falling from your lips. You look over, seeing the blue of his jacket in your peripheral and the sight makes you gasp. You’re quick to shut off the car, jumping out and getting a closer look at him.

He looks… awful. His right eye is nearly swollen shut, dry blood sticking to his split brow. There is a bruise on the other side of his face and under his left eyes, clearly he got hit in the nose.

“Baby…” this time you can't stop the tears from falling. “Baby what happened?”

He lets out a long, deep sigh, his hands resting on your cheeks. “Fuckin’ cunt called dad. Said I needed a lesson in respect. S’how I got the bruise on my left eye.” He wipes the tear that falls from your eye, his touch soft and kind, “sent me to do some shit across state lines. Guy beat the fuck outta me. He ain’t alive no more though.”

You sniffle, “is it just your face?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say more. He knows you’ll see the rest once he gets you inside. Well … “we-I can’t let you sleep here tonight, Gator.”

He shakes his head, “it’s fine. Dad said so himself. Come on.”

And so he drags you inside, Karen looking like the cat that caught the canary as she watches you help Gator walk. You make a mental note to never forget this, never forget how she treats her step-son.

You push open Gators bedroom door, making sure to shut it silently and lock it before settling Gator on the bed. “Let’s get ya into some comfy clothes, yeah?”

You crouch down in front of him, making quick work of untying his boots.

“Baby, I can do this. I’m the one who's supposed to help you.”

That only makes more tears burn your eyes. You hated that he never let anyone help him, hated that he always had to be strong, couldn’t ever cry, nothing. You hated Roy for making him like this and you hated his mother for leaving and not saving her only son from a life of pain.

“Stop. Just-just let me help you, Gator please.” You pull at the laces to loosen them and make it easier to slide off his boot, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes.

His boot comes off easy and you make sure you keep your hold on it so it doesn’t make any noise on the floor. Same with the second one.

You stand, unclipping his thigh holster and setting it on the nightstand where he likes it. Incase of emergencies. Next is his belt, coming off with ease. He stops you when you get to his pants, making you look up at him. He hates the silver shining along your waterline.

“I love you, little bunny.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it.

“I love you too.” Your voice cracks as you say.

You work on his pants, popping open the buttons with ease. Next you pull his shirt out of his pants and pull it over his head. By the time his shirt hits the floor, you’ve gotten a full look at his bare torso. A bruise is forming along his ribs, it’s really red and slightly turning purple.

“Jeez baby,” your hands gently touch his skin and he hisses a little. “S-sorry.”

He says nothing as he helps you pull off his pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

“Stay here,” you tell him as you collect his dirty clothes and go into his attached bathroom. You sigh as you grab a face cloth, turning the water on so it heats up. It, of course, takes forever for the water to warm. Nothing like shit water heating thanks to the frigid winter. But once it does you wet the cloth and grab the first aid kit and go back to him.

You’ve done this before, cleaned him up, you’ve even stitched him up. You’d like to thank the internet for telling you how to do that and you’ve gotten good over the last two years.

“S’is gonna hurt. Luckily it looks like you don’t need stitches. Just don’t move while I work okay?”

He nods, “yes, baby. Ya don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like blood.” This was true, you didn’t like blood at all, barely even being able to handle papercuts. But for some reason, when it comes to him, you can manage to push it aside. Cuts can get infected and when they’re on his face it means it could go to the brain faster.

You carefully dab the wet rag around his split eyebrow, gently clearing off the blood and making sure that you don’t resplit the cut open. “I think it split from the swellin’ but I don’t think it needs stitches.”

He nods slightly, “good. I was hoping it’d close on its own.”

You put some wound cleaner on it before you bandage it. He might have a scar there unless he leaves it alone. But knowing Gator, it’ll open again. You clean up around his face and causing a hiss to leave his lips once you touch his cheek and eye. You apologize, applying some cream that makes bruises heal faster to his face and ribs.

“That’s everything.” You force a small smile at him, tossing the wet cloth into the hamper and putting the first aid kit away. You get undressed, needing skin to skin contact. Then, you climb into bed, snuggling up to him, resting your head on the safe side of his chest.

The silence stretches, Gators arm around your shoulders, his thumb moving softly.

“I thought you were dead in the snow,” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them.

He thumb stills for a heartbeat before resuming, “but m’not.”

“I’m sorry this is the life you were forced into. It is not fair.”

He kisses your head, breathing you in for a moment, “it’s not your fault, bunny. You didn’t do any of this. Shoulda kept my mouth shut when it came to Karen. Just… smile an’ wave.”

You shake your head, kissing his chest, “not how it’s supposed to be.”

Gator rolls over you, forcing you on your back. He bites back a pained groan. “My sweet bunny, listen to me. I am here. I am safe. S’gonna take a lot more to kill me.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You let your hands slide into his hair, deepening the kiss. Honestly, you just need to feel him. He knows it and if he’s being honest, he needs to feel you too. He’ll never say it out loud, but as he laid in the snow, doing his best to get the fucker he was sent to kill off of him, he was scared.

Scared he would die and you’d spend the rest of you life wondering. He knew no one would fill you in and he knew his daddy wouldn’t have a service for him. You’d be alone, wondering what happened to him, praying to the god you don’t believe in that he’d come home again. So, he fought like hell and now, he really needs you. Needs to be inside you.

You pull back, breaking the kiss, “Gator, we can’t.”

“We can. Please baby.” Gator doesn’t beg, he didn’t need to when it came to you. Always more than willing to do what he says and give him what he wants. His begging makes you give in.

His hands push your underwear aside, feeling how ready you already are for him. Always ready, always wanting and only for him.

You pull him in for a kiss while his fingers find your clit with ease, swallowing your moans. He always knows exactly how you like it, fingers moving in swift circles and just the right amount of pressure.

“So fucking pretty when you’re at my mercy,” he pushes two fingers inside you, the stretch making your brain go fuzzy. “Looked so fucking pretty in your little skirt and frilly socks. My little angel.”

The way Gator is cooing at you, his fingers crooked up to touch the one spot that drives you nuts and you can feel yourself slipping into that headspace you both love. You’re trying so hard to be logical, knowing he’s hurt and can hurt himself further.

“Thank you, daddy. Bought it because I thought you’d like it.” Your voice is getting small, breathy.

He grins, kissing down your neck, “I love it. Love everything you wear. Look so pretty in your pastels.” His thumb finds your clit, a soft moan falling from your lips. It’s embarrasing how quickly you are to coming around his fingers.

“P-please. Gator please.”

He smirks, “use your words, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.”

You can feel your body heat up from both the coil inside you winding tighter and the embarrassment of having to say what you want. “I-I need to cum. So bad.”

The second the words are in the air, Gator pulls his hands away, leaving your orgasm to fade away. “NO! No, no, no, no please!”

He sucks a mark into your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to sooth it.

“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.”

Before your brain can catch up, he’s sliding inside you. The stretch is something you haven't gotten used to in the last two years. It feels like he's splitting you in half, his cock filling you completely.

“OH! Oh my god.” You're already panting, squeezing him so hard he’s fighting to not bust prematurely.

Gator drops to his forearms and pumps his hips, getting right in your face. He’s so close you can smell the fruity scent from the vape he was no doubt huffing on before coming to see you.

“S’right baby, I am your God and I love when ya pray to me.”

You can’t help the way your cunt clenches, a moan falling from your lips that is just slightly too loud for either of your comforts. At the moment, you don’t care. You know Roy already got his fill of kicking Gatos' ass. He’s not going to worry about it tonight.

“Daddy, please. I’m so close.”

His hips are snapping hard, cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. He feels like he’s inside your throat and you can’t tell if his grunts are from pain, pleasure, or both.

“Not yet. Almost there. D-don’t cum yet.”

Your nails sink into his biceps, hips starting to stutter.

“Please! Fuck! Oh god…”

He smirks, eyes meeting yours, “yeah? I know how bad ya need it. How bad ya need me to fill this pretty, little cunt up. Breed an own ya f’ever? Hm?” His eyes are black and he looks absolutely feral. Primal.

His hand snakes down the front of your body, finding your clit with ease. You gasp, thighs starting to shake. You knew you weren’t going to last but you needed his permission. You craved his praise and being in his good graces. You’d let him do anything to you, that’s how much you trust him.

“Yes! Yes! Whatever you want. Anything.” You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, too cock drunk to think of anything besides him and what he’s doing to you.

He laughs, seeing your eyes glazed over and tears of pleasure lining your eyes, “cum for me bunny. Do it.”

It’s all you need to fall into bliss.

His hand covers your mouth knowing how loud you’re about to be. His face drops into your neck as he cums with you, both of your moans muffled by each other's bodies. His cum fills you, leaking out as he brings you both down.

His hand slowly leaves your mouth, head lifting to look at you.

“I love you. I fuckin’ love you so fuckin’ much.” He leaves little kisses all over your face, trying to bring you back to him. “You hear me? M’never leavin’ you.”

You take a shuddering inhale, trying to form a coherent thought, “P-promise?”

You hold your pinky up to him, hands shaking while adrenalin continues to run through your veins. He giggles, hooking his pinky with yours, “promise. I’ll always come home to you. I will always fall asleep next to you.”

He looks down, flipping your hand over and checking out your nails, “I can’t wait for these pretty, red claws to be wrapped around my cock.”

Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.

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xomakara · 8 months

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Inked By You

SUMMARY | You're best friends with Johnny and have had feelings for him for awhile. You think he's only attracted to you because of your tattoos but it's so much more. PAIRINGS | Johnny/Fem!Reader GENRE | non-idol au, college au, friends to lovers, smut, unprotected sex, oral sex, dirty talk, fluff towards the end RATING | Mature LENGTH | 10,114 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | This turned out longer than I expected LOL. So in this one, all the members I mentioned are the same age lolol. I hope it makes sense. Does it make sense?? I feel like my writing style has been wonky lately.

“Those are real, aren’t they?” Johnny asked you as he leaned against your bedroom wall. Taeyong and Yuta were lounging on your bed before joining the party that was going on in your living room. Johnny was looking at the various tattoos that were on your left arm.

You and Johnny have been best friends since your freshman year of college. Although you both have very different personalities and interests, there was one thing that kept you close together: partying. It's your last year of college and despite all the stress from studying and taking exams, you still got together every now and again to do what you all did best.

Drink, dance, and make memories.

Johnny is wearing a silk button-down shirt and black slacks. And then there was you in a tight mini skirt and a one-shouldered top that accentuated your figure and showed off your tattoo sleeve.

You looked good.

Even though it wasn’t what most people would consider a typical Friday night out, you, Johnny and other mutual friends seemed happy enough as you stood in front of the mirror checking out each other.

That was until you caught Johnny staring at your body with an expression that suggested he wanted more than just a quick look. The silence between you both grew awkward and uncomfortable until you finally broke it by saying, “What? Are my tits distracting you or something?”

He snapped out of his trance with a surprised look on his face, causing you to smile. He quickly apologized for staring, but said that he was genuinely interested in your ink. You nodded in response, knowing exactly what he meant by that. There was no denying the amount of attention you always got when wearing a low-cut top or a revealing dress. Your tattoo sleeve was another story though. People either loved them or hated them.

Despite the interest from many men, you never really considered getting any more tattoos after you finished your sleeves because, frankly, your current ones turned heads even if you wore a burlap sack. It wasn't uncommon for you to get double takes from people you knew as well as complete strangers when walking around town. On top of that, you didn't want to mess up the awesome artwork that had already been drawn onto your skin. Your current sleeves represented some of your favorite memories, which you didn't ever want to lose. So while others spent thousands of dollars on inked bodies, you got yourself beautiful pieces of art that couldn't be taken away.

Still, you couldn't help but notice how excited Johnny appeared whenever he saw you in your sexy outfits. As far as you could tell, he never missed an opportunity to stare at your tattoos, or check you out whenever you walked by him. Sometimes you would catch him ogling you in such a way that you felt like he wanted to rip off your clothes right there in public. Of course, there was no way he'd actually do anything like that. He wasn't that kind of guy.

Besides, you knew for a fact that he had a girlfriend who also attended the same college as you. They had been dating for about a few months, so she was obviously important to him. Still, whenever he caught you wearing something tight or sexy, he couldn't help but show off those sinful eyes of his.

With everyone gathered in yours and Taeil's living room, you tried to ignore the eye candy standing across from you as you and your friends continued to talk about meaningless things, like where you should go for dinner later tonight. You weren't even sure why you brought it up. Maybe you were bored, maybe you were drunk, or maybe you just needed something to keep your mind occupied. But whatever the reason, somehow the conversation ended up on the topic of sexual partners. When it comes to sexual encounters, your friends tend to live by the motto: if you haven't had sex with anyone, then you're not having fun.

You hadn't given much thought to that phrase until Jaehyun wiggled his eyebrows at you. "We all know that Y/N has fun doesn't she?"

You rolled your eyes, a smirk on your lips. "I've been told I have a knack for keeping people entertained."

"She can entertain me anytime!" Ten shouted. "Have you seen her ass in that red dress she wears?"

You couldn't help but laugh. That comment got everybody else laughing too.

"Anyways," You muttered before clearing your throat and turning towards Taeyong, "How many women have you slept with?"

Taeyong glanced over at Yuta and grinned, "Four, but it's probably more. Do you need me to give you a count?"

Taeil let out a small laugh before replying, "Four isn't bad. Don't think I'll ever get that high, although the number would probably increase if Yuta would stop trying to fuck everything that moves. Especially anything that moves."

You burst out laughing, followed by Yuta who laughed even harder. Eventually Taeil joined in, as did Jaehyun, and everyone else that was listening.

“But back to the question at hand,” Taeyong spoke up once he was able to calm down. He looked over at you, “how many men have you slept with?”

Johnny grabbed a bottle of beer from the kitchen counter and took a swig of it. He looked at you curiously.

"Well...if we include Jaehyun, Doyoung, Mark, Hendery and Renjun..." You counted, the men you called out looking at you for a brief moment before going back to whatever they were doing. "Five. But hey, who's counting? Sex is sex."

That answer seemed to satisfy Johnny, although he continued to watch you carefully. You noticed that he was taking an interest in your tattoos again. You shrugged it off as you and your friends continued talking, however your heart began to beat faster when you realized that he was no longer looking at your tattoos. His eyes were locked on yours.

"Hey guys,” Jungwoo called out to the rest of your group, waving a hand in front of their faces. “Who wants to get more beer and food with me?"

Thank you Jungwoo, for your timely interruption. You weren't sure how long you could last with Johnny staring at you. In fact, your knees started to feel a little weak when he cleared his throat to gain your attention. It was almost like he was daring you to say something. Something inappropriate, to be exact. But you had to be strong. After all, he was with his girlfriend.

"Uh, yeah," You replied, forcing a smile onto your face. “Let's go get some food and drinks."

You turned around, ready to follow Jungwoo into the kitchen. You paused for a second to take one last look at Johnny, and saw him watching you intently. You smiled sheepishly before stepping inside the kitchen to join your friends.

You turned around to see Johnny coming towards you. He didn't speak for a minute, so you waited patiently. "So, have you had fun yet?"

Your brows furrowed. You expected him to ask you if you were enjoying yourself. Instead he was asking you a completely different question. You wondered what this was all about, so you replied, "Of course I'm having fun! Why wouldn't I be?"

Before he could respond, Xiaojun called out. "Yo, Johnny! Jieun is here."

Fuck. Johnny's girlfriend.

You sighed inwardly as you watched him walk away with Xiaojun to greet her. If only he wasn't dating someone you actually knew. Then maybe he'd pay you the proper amount of attention.

Oh well. No use thinking about it.

You shook your head and focused on your friends. You hadn't seen them in awhile, so you welcomed the chance to hang out with them again. Plus, the alcohol helped to loosen your tongue, which allowed you to ask some of the questions you had been wondering about for quite some time.

"So, guys," you said, pouring some vodka into a glass. "Is it true that Renjun hooked up with someone last week?"

Renjun choked on his beer. You covered your mouth to hide your laughter. Kun let out a loud groan. Haechan let out a loud chuckle. Even Taeyong chuckled quietly.

You couldn't believe that they were being so open with you. It was like you were part of the group, and you liked it. You weren't sure if they realized that, but you were grateful nonetheless.

As soon as you saw Renjun regaining his composure, you spoke up again. "So, how many girls have you banged so far?"

Mark snorted. "Including you? Like eight or nine."

Kun guffawed. "More like twenty."

A shocked expression formed on your face. It was funny to hear their numbers compared to yours, but even funnier was hearing their reactions. Their reactions made you realize just how ridiculous their answers were. For example, Kun's claim that he had fucked more than twenty women in his lifetime was preposterous. However, you didn't dare bring it up.

Renjun shrugged. "I dunno. A lot."

Mark nodded. "At least ten."

Jungwoo scoffed. "No fucking way. Five tops."

"Bet none of those girls were as good as Y/N." Jaehyun reminded them, giving you a look. You rolled your eyes as he continued to talk. "And to everyone at this party that had sex with her, admit that she was good."

"I admit, I'm a good fuck." You shrugged, a small smirk on your lips. You nudged Jaehyun's shoulder. "Now shut up."

You all stared at each other for a minute before bursting out laughing. The alcohol was definitely starting to hit you hard, making you forget all about Johnny and his girlfriend. All that mattered was that you were surrounded by friends, having a good time, and drinking.

It wasn't long before Ten, Taeil, Mark, Kun, Haechan, Taeyong and you were sitting on the floor, passing around beers and shots as you waited for Jungwoo and Yuta to return with the food. And even though you were tipsy, you managed to hold your liquor fairly well. Until you drank the tequila shot you took right before going to get more drinks.

“So, Y/N.” Haechan drawled out, looking at you intently. You glanced at the tequila in your hands, your vision getting hazy. How much have you actually drunk so far?

“What?” you asked, shrugging. “What are you talking about?”

Haechan frowned. "You okay? You look wasted."

"Yeah, you look wasted Y/N." Taeyong said, as he put his drink down.

Your vision was getting worse. You felt dizzy. Your body was hot, then cold, then hot again. Fuck, you were going to pass out if you kept this up. You reached for the bottle of water next to you, holding it tightly against your chest. You closed your eyes for a second, concentrating on slowing your breathing. You managed to slow it down a bit, but you still felt lightheaded. Before you knew it, your vision blurred again. When you opened your eyes, you found everyone staring at you. Except for Taeyong. He was standing in front of you, looking very concerned.

"Taeyong." You whispered, unable to form any words. He held out his arms, inviting you to step into them.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed." He said gently.

"Y/N." Johnny stepped forward, his face showing concern. His girlfriend laid a hand on his arm, suggesting that he stay put. "Are you okay?"

You nodded and stumbled, reaching for the couch, only to find it further away than you remembered. Without thinking, you leaned against Haechan instead. As you dozed off, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer.

"Johnny, what's wrong?" The pretty girl next to him muttered. "Is everything alright?"

Johnny watched from the corner of his eyes as his friends helped Y/N up from her drunken stupor. Was she okay? "It's nothing, Jieun."

"I hope she's alright." Jieun muttered, arms still clinging to him. "She seems so drunk."

"Don't worry about her, babe." Johnny assured her. "Just relax and enjoy yourself."

"Why are you always protecting her?" Jieun released a soft sigh.

"Because she's special to me." Johnny answered simply.

He gave her a small smile before turning his attention back to his friends. He really missed the opportunity to spend time with his friends and Y/N.

He sighed. Of course he missed her. Even though he hadn't been able to spend much time with her lately, whenever they were together, they always had fun. She was kind and caring. Whenever they hung out, he felt a sense of comfort wash over him. It wasn't until tonight that he realized how lucky he was to have her in his life.

In the beginning, it was all easy. They met at a party thrown by their classmates. Since Johnny had recently moved to Seoul, most of his friends struggled to communicate with him. So when his friend Jaehyun told him about the event being held by another foreign exchange student, he figured that it would be a good chance to meet new people. Little did he know that meeting Y/N would change his life forever.

They hit it off instantly, flirting shamelessly. They had no problem joking around and teasing each other. At first, it had been innocent, simple conversations, whether it was about the weather or their favorite movies. They stayed as friends since Y/N was currently in a relationship, but every once in a while, they still got together to hang out. On those occasions, they spent their time watching movies, going to karaoke bars, eating out, and shopping. They had mutual friends who always seemed to drag them along to the hottest clubs and parties.

Those times together were always memorable. He remembered the time when he helped Taeil and Y/N find an apartment together since they were going to be roommates. There were nights where Y/N had gotten sick from drinking too much, falling asleep on Johnny's chest. Or times when he found himself helplessly straddling Y/N as they snuck into his apartment. He never questioned the level of their intimacy; after all, Y/N was a beautiful, smart, and sweet girl. In return, Johnny was respectful of her relationships with other men.

But the thought of Y/N with anyone else made him physically ill.

For several months, things continued this way. Eventually, they both became more serious with their respective partners. When that happened, they had trouble finding time to see each other. The good news was that they'd grown closer, becoming each other's best friends. During those moments when they saw each other, they'd always make sure to give the other person plenty of affection. It was obvious that neither one of them wanted to lose their friendship. Still, it was difficult not to get hurt every now and again.

Johnny would often ask himself why he didn't act sooner.

What stopped him from telling Y/N how he truly felt? He knew that he was attracted to her, especially after seeing how they interacted together. She made him laugh, genuinely enjoying his humor. It was impossible not to notice how sexy she looked when she was laughing at his jokes. Plus, she smelled amazing. When he breathed in her scent, it reminded him of chocolate. Or strawberry ice cream. Something sweet and fruity that melted his heart every time he inhaled it. But still, he kept his feelings bottled up inside.

Today was no exception.

Seeing Y/N dress in that mini skirt and that top that accentuated her figure, he had to try hard to stop himself from kissing her senseless. Heck, he knew she had tattoos but at the time, there were only a few. Now she had a whole sleeve of them. All over her left arm. Most of them seemed quite intricate and detailed, depicting nature scenes, symbols, even people. She had an incredible eye for detail and, based on her art, Johnny guessed that she had a lot of patience. It was one of the many reasons why he loved hanging out with her. They could talk for hours, even if they had absolutely nothing in common. There was always an instant connection between them, almost as if they were two halves of a whole.

Johnny glanced over at Jieun, his current girlfriend.

No.

Just the girl that he’s currently just sleeping with.

Jieun was pretty, don't get him wrong. She had short hair and bright brown eyes, delicate features and a slender frame. But when compared to Y/N, she didn't stand a chance. Compared to her, Y/N seemed like a goddess. Y/N was tall, slender, toned in all the right places. She was tan, and had long, black hair that she often ran her fingers through. Not only did she possess all of the qualities that Johnny desired, but she also had a personality that stole his heart. For years, he had been silently pining for her. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't deny the fact that she was perfect for him.

But no matter how much he liked Jieun, he could never forget Y/N. The truth was that Y/N was just so different from everyone else. She never hesitated to show her true self, whatever that meant. Whether she was crying over a sad movie or dancing ecstatically at a club, he knew that she wouldn't lie to him or hold anything back. Her honesty made her extremely endearing. She was funny and carefree, and unlike some girls, she had a positive outlook on life. If it wasn't for Y/N, Johnny doubted that he would've made it through all the crap he went through during college.

No doubt, Johnny had fallen for her. But he refused to act on those feelings. To do so would be unfair to Jieun, despite them not really dating. More importantly, Y/N deserved someone better than him. Someone who actually appreciated her beauty and unique traits. She deserved someone who loved her unconditionally and showed it in every aspect of their relationship.

Johnny watched as Jieun struck up a conversation with the other party-goers. His attention went back to Y/N and how drunk she looked earlier. He wished that he could've done something to prevent her from embarrassing herself. Y/N was the last person he wanted to hurt.

The next thing you remember was waking up on the couch, your head resting on someone’s lap. Haechan was still sleeping soundly, and so were all of your friends except for Yuta. He was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Everyone looked so peaceful.

"Ugh, my head." You moaned as you sat up. "This hangover is going to kill me."

"Can I get you anything?" Taeil asked, coming out of his bedroom. He looked around the living room, noticing that the people who didn't make it home last night, were all passed out on the floor or on the couch.

You rubbed your forehead, getting up and padding towards the kitchen. “Coffee, please.”

He handed you the mug and a pack of Advil. "Are you feeling better?"

"Just peachy." You replied sarcastically. "Not at all.”

Taeil laughed. "Don't worry, you'll feel better tomorrow."

As soon as he walked back into the living room to wake everyone up, you finished your mug of coffee and padded into your bedroom to freshen up. You went through your closet, trying to figure out what to wear. You needed to dress casual, since you planned on spending most of the day lounging around the house, drinking coffee and playing games. Unfortunately, you couldn't decide between wearing sweatpants or shorts. Finally, after much deliberation, you chose to pair leggings with a gray tank top. Once you were done, you wandered back into the living room to wait for everyone else to wake up.

You didn't need to wait too long. Before you knew it, Taeyong and Renjun joined you at the kitchen table with cups of coffee. Mark rubbed at his eyes, sitting up from the couch, Haechan stirred next to him.

“Where did you two sleep?” You asked Taeyong and Renjun, curious.

Taeyong gave you a pointed look. “Like on the floor. At least Yuta was against the wall.”

You grinned. "I'm surprised no one took over my bed."

"I'm surprised no one put you to bed," Yuta muttered as he joined the group.

"Haechan was hogging her on the couch." Mark sleepily muttered.

"I was going to help her to her room but then I got sleepy and she was sleepy," Haechan yawned. "So we both passed out on the couch."

"Who didn't go home last night?" You asked Taeil.

"Mark, Haechan, Renjun, Taeyong, and Yuta." Taeil replied. "Oh. Ten and Kun passed out on my bedroom floor."

“Haha. Let's go get breakfast once they wake up. What should we do today?” You asked the group of hungover men.

“Eat breakfast. Drink more coffee. Play video games. Whatever you want.” Kun shrugged, coming from Taeil's bedroom. He stretched and yawned loudly. “Today is a free day. We can do whatever you want."

“Okay, sounds good. Can I shower first?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.

“Of course. Don't take too long. We're waiting.” Taeyong smirked.

“Whatever.” You replied. You slowly trudged upstairs to your bedroom. Once you were inside, you stripped off your clothes, letting them fall to the floor. You slid under the warm spray of water and scrubbed your hair vigorously. Soon, you stepped out of the shower, toweling off your hair and wrapping the towel around your body. Then you pulled on a pair of black yoga pants and an old, faded red t-shirt. Once you were ready, you padded downstairs to grab your purse and keys.

Once you returned to the living room, you found everyone waiting for you. They all sat around the living room, sipping on their morning coffees.

"Alright, let's go get breakfast." You declared happily.

"Good idea." Yuta agreed, getting up from the couch. "Let's not waste another minute here."

"We don't need another minute." Mark commented, looking around the room.

When you arrived at your favorite restaurant, everyone piled out of the car, stretching and yawning. The restaurant was fairly empty, save for the employees. So, when the owner came up to greet you all, you smiled.

"Morning! Glad to see my favorite group of hungover college kids." She beamed, her arms wide opened.

You stepped into her arms. "Morning mom. Can you feed us now?"

"Anything for my favorite daughter." Your mom kissed your cheek, ignoring your comment that you were her only child. Your mom looked at the rest of the group. “Now what can I get for you hungover kids?”

“Your egg sandwiches, auntie.” Taeil muttered.

“Coffee.” Mark yawned. “Lots and lots of coffee.”

“Can I get toast, bacon, and fries, auntie?” Renjun asked.

"Oh, god, come on." Taeyong groaned, sitting down at a nearby table. "Just give me some coffee and bacon, I'll be fine. Please auntie."

After you placed your order, you settled down at the table, joining your friends.

"Why are we meeting here every morning?" Yuta yawned, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Because it's close to campus, you get free food and you know my mom loves you all." You shook your head, helping the staff pour everyone coffee or orange juice into their mugs and cups. You made your thanks, the staff smiling.

"One of the perks of being Y/N's friends," Kun laughed. "Free food from her mom's restaurant. Lucky us."

"True that." Taeil nodded, finishing off his egg sandwich. "Man, I love her mom's sandwiches."

"She makes the best ones." You agreed, stealing a fry from Renjun's plate.

A few minutes later, the rest of the food was delivered.

"Can I have your bacon and eggs?" Taeil asked, pointing at your plate.

You raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think you deserve to eat someone else's bacon?"

"Doesn't hurt to ask." He grinned, grabbing your plate. "But you can always share."

Everyone chuckled as you shoved a fry into Taeil's mouth.

"So where did Johnny end up going last night?" You asked suddenly. “I really didn’t see him last night. I mean I saw him before I passed out.”

"He didn't stay long." Mark answered. "Around midnight, he left with Jieun."

"Ah." You frowned. "Makes sense. They never stay long whenever I'm around."

"They probably just wanted to spend time together." Kun explained. "Jieun and Johnny were really cute together. She followed him everywhere he went."

"Did you ever tell him that you liked him?" Yuta asked you suddenly.

"What?" You blinked. How did Yuta know about that?

"You did flirt with him a little." Renjun reminded you. "At least, that's what I saw."

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes. "It was barely any flirting."

"Come on Y/N," Mark shook his head. "Johnny was staring at you the whole night before Jieun came."

"It's the tatts, Mark." You replied. "He was asking me about them earlier."

"Seriously though." Yuta continued. "If you like him, why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I thought he'd never notice me." You sighed, knowing that there was no way to escape the converstation. "I'm not the type of girl that guys usually like."

"Really?" Mark raised an eyebrow. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"It's the tatts, huh?" Taeyong muttered, looking at your tattooed arm. "I mean, I love a girl that has tatts."

"Guys will always find something to complain about." You nodded your head. “But thanks for that Taeyong.”

"Well," Renjun interrupted, chuckling slightly. "There's nothing wrong with your tattoos."

"Yeah." Haechan agreed. "They're pretty cool."

"I agree." Ten smiled. "And sexy as hell."

You blushed, ignoring everyone's laughter. But it wasn't long before you were in a conversation about your tattoos again. About how pretty you thought they were and about how unique each tattoo was. It felt good, having such amazing friends that were willing to talk about your ink. You knew it would probably never happen with other groups of guys you hung out with. Not because they didn't care, but because they were afraid to offend you. Which is why you weren't surprised when the subject turned to sex.

It was always sex with these guys.

Why were you friends with these sex-crazed guys?

"So..." Taeyong started, shooting a pointed glance at you. "Are there any guys here you want to bang?"

"Hear me out. I know he has a girl and I know someone's going to beat me up for saying it or even thinking of it," You decided to just tell the truth. You looked around biting your lip, making sure your mom didn’t hear you. "Johnny. He seems like a good fuck."

"Damn," Haechan raised his eyebrows. "Y/N and Johnny would be hot, to be honest."

"No shit." Renjun nodded. "They'd be the hottest couple on campus."

You rolled your eyes and laughed with the others. You and Johnny? If only that was possible.

He still has a girlfriend after all.

The days passed quickly. After hanging out with the group for breakfast, you usually went off on your own, doing homework or just spending time alone in your room. But one day, after lunch, you decided to join your friends again. This time you met up with Taeyong, Doyoung, Winwin, Xiaojun, and Jaemin.

You sat at the table, eating as everyone told you stories about who they hooked up with last night. You rolled your eyes when Taeyong started telling you about his drunken hookup with a girl named Minah.

"Drunk sex?" You scoffed, giving him a look. "Really?"

"Don't act like you haven't done that." Taeyong narrowed his eyes. "With as many times as you had drunken sex with Doyoung."

"Please don't bring that up. Every time you guys mention it, I feel bad." You groaned as Doyoung sputtered on his food. You reached out and patted his back. “But admit it Doyoung, the sex was good.”

"We don't mention it!" Taeyong responded to you, rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s reaction. "It's not our fault you're always horny!"

"Shut up. Just shut up." You threw your napkin at him, the others laughing.

You were surprised when the next person you noticed looking at you wasn't Xiaojun or Doyoung or Jaemin or even Winwin. Instead, it was your very handsome friend, Johnny. You didn't even know he would be here. He was out with others that were in his classes.

His dark brown eyes met yours across the room. There was something about the way he stared at you that made you blush. Your cheeks were hot. Even your ears felt hot. Why was this guy looking at you so intensely? And so much?

“Is there a reason why you’re staring at Johnny so much?” Xiaojun asked, leaning back in his chair.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Um…”

"She wants to fuck him." Jaemin muttered. "Renjun told me the other day."

"But then again, what girl doesn't want to fuck, Johnny?" You asked, shrugging your shoulders. "Jieun is one lucky bitch."

You tried not to look at him anymore. Because whenever you looked at him, your stomach would flip. He was just too beautiful. Too sexy. Too perfect. It didn't help that he was already famous for dating the popular girl. Not that you weren't popular.

No wonder every single girl kept trying to hit on him. You included. You've been fighting the urge to kiss him since you met him at that event you hosted with Mark for the foreign exchange students. But he still had a girlfriend. A serious girlfriend.

Yet, here you were, constantly looking at Johnny like he was a piece of candy that you desperately wanted. Or maybe like you were salivating at the sight of him. Yes, that sounded more appropriate.

Like you wanted to eat him alive.

You wanted to suck on his lips. Suck on his tongue. Slap his hard cock against your naked pussy.

God, you wish you could touch him. Touch his face. His arms. His chest. Hell, just touch his skin. To see if it was as soft as it looked.

Or if it was rough.

Maybe Johnny likes rougher sex than the girls he normally slept with. What do you know about him, huh? Nothing. And yet, you keep imagining yourself with him. Imagining how it would feel to lay beneath him, letting him fuck you from behind. Thinking about how incredible it would feel to take his load all over your face. Or maybe deep inside you. The possibilities were endless. You just couldn't seem to stop thinking about him.

Your friends didn't know about the way you fantasized about him.

At least, they hadn't said anything. Yet.

"Ah, fuck." You let out a sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Doyoung gave you a concerned look. “You okay, Y/N?”

You nodded in reply.

You were seriously losing control. That was a first. For as long as you could remember, you had been able to hold yourself back from acting on your urges. The fact that you had no self-control around him should've made you realize you shouldn't be with him. It should make you run away. But instead, your heart yearned to feel his body pressed against yours.

Why? You wondered. Why did you keep wanting him?

You took another bite of your salad, listening to your friends talking amongst themselves. And once again, Johnny’s name was brought up.

“Yeah, I heard he spent most of the weekend with Jieun.” Xiaojun said casually.

You sighed softly, hoping that he wouldn’t ask any questions about it.

The next week was rather uneventful. Since it was your last year of college, you have stayed late almost every night studying or doing homework. Sometimes, if your apartment was occupied, you would go to Hendery’s, Jeno’s or Yangyang’s rooms and study there since they often partied, playing sports or going to the gym. So you were surprised when Wednesday afternoon found you walking back to your apartment alone.

As you approached your building, you noticed Johnny standing near the front doors. Of course he was there. No doubt he had been waiting for you.

His posture screamed 'alpha male'. All six feet one inch of him stood rigidly, like he was prepared to strike at any moment. And the muscles in his arms and chest were clearly defined under his tight black shirt. Damn. You wanted to get closer to him, to see if those bulging biceps were real.

You swallowed nervously. How does a girl like you even get a chance to meet the guy that every other girl wants? What makes you different from all the rest? You were one of his best friends that's for sure.

You watched as he began talking to someone. A girl. And she seemed to respond well to his attention. She smiled as he leaned down to speak to her. She giggled. She touched his arm lightly. She probably thinks she's special. Probably thinks that he's interested in her. As if.

But he looks happy. Smiling. Even talking to her. Ah, this must be Jieun, the girlfriend. She was actually really cute. Much prettier than you expected her to be. Short hair cut in a layered style. Brown eyes. And a small nose.

The way his gaze lingered on her for a few moments longer than necessary, she seemed to be flattered. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing him tightly. Her head resting on his shoulder as she gazed at him with longing. It was then that you realized that he was completely oblivious to your presence.

What was wrong with you? Why are you watching them like that? Why can't you turn away? God damn it! Stop acting like some sort of pervert.

You cleared your throat. Maybe he won't notice you if you ignore him. It worked the last time. Didn't it?

But to your dismay, he did.

"Hi Y/N!" He said cheerfully, looking up and meeting your gaze. "I've been waiting for you."

Oh god.

"Hey Johnny," You forced yourself to say. Your voice came out low and shaky. You struggled to find your words. Suddenly, you felt like an awkward teenager again. Like your face was on fire.

Johnny nodded towards Jieun, causing her to frown slightly. Then he shot you a mischievous smile. "Let's go up."

It took everything you had to push past him and enter your building. Thankfully, Jieun left before you reached your apartment door. You were grateful. You didn't need her prying questions right now.

Inside your home, you stood in the living room, suddenly feeling extremely nervous. Taeil wasn’t home yet, so you felt a bit nervous that you were left alone with Johnny. This had never before. Why all of a sudden were you feeling nervous in front of your best friend?

"Do you want a drink?" You offered nervously. "A soda or water? Wine?"

"A glass of red wine sounds nice." He replied without hesitation.

Relief flooded you as you hurried to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Thankfully, you had stocked the fridge earlier that day.

When you returned to the living room, Johnny was sitting on the couch, sipping his wine and watching TV.

He's so gorgeous. Why does he have to be so goddamn beautiful?

"So..." You started awkwardly. "How have you been?"

"Same old, same old." He shrugged. "What about you?"

You frowned. "Nothing new. Apart from hanging with the guys.”

He glanced at you quickly. Something passed between the two of you. Something strange. Something exciting. You squirmed in your seat, trying to focus on anything else besides the way his eyes smoldered at you. You felt like your whole world was going crazy. Everything around you became fuzzy. The way his voice sounded. The way his muscles flexed underneath his clothes. The way he gazed at you. Oh god.

Fuck.

Stop it. You chided yourself. This isn’t happening. Don’t give in to him. This is bad. Really bad.

“I’m glad we finally got to hang out tonight.” He said after a few moments of silence.

“Me too.” You replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “I mean, I guess I haven’t seen you since you’ve been busy with Jieun.”

Johnny nodded thoughtfully. “True.”

"You never talked about her." You pointed out quietly.

He grimaced. "We don't really talk about her that often."

"Do you like her?"

"Who?"

You exhaled sharply. "Jieun. Do you like her?"

Johnny furrowed his brows. "Why do you ask?"

You hesitated, wishing you hadn't brought it up. "Well...you look pretty happy when you're with her."

He smiled briefly. "It's complicated."

"Are you two together?" You questioned. "Is that why you always sit with her during class?"

"Well, we're definitely close." He said simply.

And then, he was silent.

“Isn’t she your girlfriend?” You blurted out. “Shouldn’t you spend time with her instead of me?”

He cocked his head to the side. “No, we’re not together.”

“Really?” You felt relieved. Thank god.

Johnny laughed. “Of course. We aren’t dating. We’ve slept together a few times but we’re not dating.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Good. At least he was being honest. You tried not to think about what kind of relationship they had. What kind of relationship they had had. But you couldn’t help but notice how they interacted with each other. The way they looked at each other. How they held hands.

“Was my best friend jealous?” Johnny peered at your face, a smile on his lips. “Because I could swear that you were staring at us.”

“I was not!” You denied. “There was nothing to stare at.”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t try and deny it.”

“No, I’m telling the truth. There was nothing to stare at.” You insisted.

“Sure there was.” He grinned, taking another sip of his wine.

“Trust me. There was nothing.” You responded forcefully. “There was no reason for me to watch you and Jieun together. You weren’t kissing or anything.”

“Really?” His expression grew serious. “What if I asked you to kiss me right now? Would you?”

“Fuck, Suh.” You burst out. “That’s impossible. You know that, right?”

“But would you want to?” He persisted. “Would you kiss me right now if I asked you?”

“I…” You stopped.

How the hell was you supposed to answer that question?

This conversation was turning into something you never expected it to be. Was it really just a friendly request or something more?

And what would your friends say if they saw you two making out in the middle of the living room? If they saw you grinding against him on the couch?

“God dammit.” You groaned, slumping back onto the couch. “Johnny, what the fuck are you doing to me?”

“Hmmm?” He peered at you curiously.

“Why does this have to happen?” You groaned, trying hard not to panic. “What are you trying to do to me?”

He gave you a playful smile. “I'm not doing anything to you.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Then why am I feeling this way?”

“Because you want me.” He replied simply. “Because you’re attracted to me. Because you can’t resist me. Because you feel something when I look at you.”

His confession sent shockwaves through your body. You sat motionless on the couch. Unable to comprehend what he just told you. Unable to believe him.

“Are you attracted to me too?” You whispered. “Is that why you keep looking at me?”

Johnny stared at you silently for several seconds. Then he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” He confirmed.

You gaped at him.

“Really?” You repeated hesitantly.

“I'm not lying to you.” He assured you. “I want you. I want you so badly that I can barely breathe sometimes. But if I tell you that, will you run away? Will you break our friendship because of this?”

“No.” You answered instantly. “No. I’d never do that. I wouldn’t even be able to think straight. Not to mention the fact that the guys would kill me.”

He chuckled. “Why’s that?”

“They know that I have a thing for you.” You admitted. “They see the way I look at you. They tease me about it all the time. I guess it’s easier for them to accept it if they knew that I’m attracted to someone who likes me back. Someone who I can be myself around. That’s why they won’t mind if we date. As long as I’m with someone who accepts me.”

He grinned. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“So…what should we do?” You asked tentatively.

He raised his eyebrows. “About what?”

“Um…this.” You gestured towards yourself. “This attraction between us. It seems like we both want it. So…is it possible that maybe we could…I don’t know…do something about it? Maybe meet up somewhere private? Or at least have sex. In my bed? On your couch?”

Johnny’s eyes lit up. “You want to have sex with me?”

“Fuck, Johnny.” You ran your hand through your hair, noticing his eyes on your tatted arm. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He murmured huskily. “Like I'm going to take you upstairs and rip your clothes off? Like I'm going to shove my cock inside you and fuck you until you scream?”

You moaned. Fuck yes. That's exactly what you want.

“Don’t you want to?” He pressed. “Don’t you want me to make love to you? To touch every inch of your skin? To lick your nipples and suck on your breasts?”

You bit your lip.

“Fuck. Please stop talking. Just fucking fuck me already.” You moaned, unable to contain your arousal any longer.

He smirked. “All right. All right. But just to warn you. I plan on treating you like the goddess that you are. Every part of your body is going to feel good to me. I’ll make sure you come over and over again.”

A fire ignited within you. This is exactly what you needed. Exactly what you wanted. The idea of getting fucked by him sent a thrill throughout your body. You loved hearing him say those words to you. Words that only a man like him could utter. And knowing that you wanted to have sex with him didn’t hurt either. It made you feel incredibly desirable.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do.” Johnny said softly.

“Do whatever you want.” You replied breathlessly. “Just please. Make me cum.”

He chuckled. “If that’s what you want.”

You nodded eagerly. A devilish grin formed on his lips.

He stood up from the couch. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you up from the sofa. With one swift move, he tossed you over his shoulder.

He strode quickly towards the staircase. You shrieked, clutching at his shirt tightly. You kicked your legs wildly, desperately trying to escape from his grip.

Johnny was much stronger than you realized. Within seconds, he had thrown you down onto your bed. With one quick movement, he jumped on top of you. Your heart thundered against your chest.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours. Kissing you fiercely.

Your body responded instinctively. Your pussy throbbed, begging for attention. Your nipples hardened beneath your shirt, yearning for a hard squeeze.

As his tongue probed into your mouth, his hands slid underneath your shirt. Pushing it up and off your shoulders.

His warm fingers trailed over your skin. Sending chills throughout your entire body. His lips trailed down your neck, licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh. Every single movement was driving you wild.

Every stroke of his tongue and caress of his fingertips set you on fire. You were soaking wet, longing for him to take you. For him to fill you with his cock. To give you the pleasure you deserve.

The moment his fingers brushed against your nipple, you let out a moan.

You arched your back, thrusting your breast towards him.

He chuckled. “God, Y/N. Are you trying to kill me?”

He grasped your bra, tearing it apart with ease. Your nipples sprang free. He rubbed his thumb over them, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Oooohhhh, Johnny.” You moaned.

He grinned wickedly. “Does that feel good, baby? Do you like it when I play with your tits? When I suck on your nipples?”

“Yessss.” You gasped. “More. More. Fuck.”

“Oh god.” He groaned, biting down gently on your nipple.

He continued to flick his tongue across your other nipple, flicking harder each time. Your cries became louder. You felt like you were going to explode. It took everything in you not to reach down and unzip his pants.

Instead, you threw your head back and wrapped your arms around his neck. Tugging at his hair as he teased your nipples. Moaning loudly whenever he touched your skin.

Johnny smiled. He licked his lips hungrily, giving your breasts one last slow suck before letting go.

Leaving you panting for air.

“I've got to be honest with you, baby.” He breathed, pushing himself up onto his knees. “You taste amazing. Better than anything I've ever tasted before. And there's nothing else I'd rather do right now than to spend hours tasting every inch of your gorgeous body. Touching you. Kissing you. Licking you. And slowly entering you. Until I fill you with my cum.”

“Mmmmm. Fuck yes.” You whimpered, your voice sounding like an echo in the empty bedroom.

“Now where were we?” He asked slyly. “Ahh yes, your tits. Did you want me to suck on them some more? Maybe eat you out while I played with your tits?”

“Yes.” You breathed. “Please. Oh god, yes. Please.”

He chuckled. “Anything for you, baby. Anything.”

Slowly standing up, he began to strip off his shirt. Each piece of clothing was removed with great care. His tattoos were displayed prominently. They looked beautiful as always. The sight of them caused you to sigh in appreciation.

Once his shirt was completely gone, he leaned forward, placing a tender kiss on your stomach.

“That's better.” He whispered. “Now you're ready for me.”

His hands sliding your pants off. His lips kissing the insides of your thighs. Caressing your inner thigh with every kiss. Leaving you quivering with desire.

“Fuck!” You cried out. “Stop teasing me. Please. Just fuck me. Now!”

“Shhh.” He whispered. “Not yet. Not yet. There's still so much left to do first. Don't worry. You'll get what you need soon enough.”

Your hands dug into his hair, pulling his face closer to your pussy. You moaned loudly. The sounds of your pleasuring filling the room. His hot breath tickling your inner thighs. Your panties drenched with your juices.

Johnny looked up at you, his dark eyes darkened with lust.

“Look at me. Look how beautiful you are.” He said huskily. “Watch me taste you. Watch as I rub my tongue over your clit. See how good it feels. Know that I'm doing it to you. That I want to eat you out so badly.”

He gripped your hips, tugging you upwards. Opening his mouth wide. Licking your entire pussy, slowly spreading your juices.

Lapping at you slowly, teasingly. Going lower and lower until his tongue found your swollen clit. Pressing hard against it, rubbing his tongue in circles.

“Fuuuck.” You cried out. “Johnny! Johnny!”

“Such dirty talk, baby.” He said with a laugh. “Let me hear it. Let me hear you beg for me to make you cum. I want to hear you screaming for me.”

You clawed at his back, trying to pull his face deeper into your pussy. Screaming obscenities. Making animalistic sounds. Biting down on your pillow as he gave you all the pleasure you deserved.

Finally, his tongue plunged deep inside your pussy. Flicking over your clit in rapid succession. Sucking on it and flicking it. Pulling away occasionally to tease you. Tasting your juices. Giving you an extra burst of pleasure every time.

His pace increased rapidly. Pulling away for brief moments only to return immediately. Giving you even more pleasure than you expected. Soon you were trembling, nearing the point of no return.

It took everything you had not to lose control. Your entire body was consumed by ecstasy. Your pussy contracting rhythmically around his mouth. Pumping his tongue inside you, trying to keep yourself from coming. From exploding with orgasmic bliss.

But you couldn't hold it anymore. You began to cry out. Your body shuddered.

Sensing your impending climax, Johnny stopped sucking on your clit. He withdrew his tongue, but kept his lips firmly pressed against it. Keeping your orgasm contained.

His hands remained firmly on your hips. Tugging at your hips, forcing your body further upwards. You cried out as you tried to pull his face back into your pussy. Trying to force yourself to cum.

You came with a loud scream, your entire body tensing. Johnny followed your lead, groaning loudly as you pushed your pussy back into his face. Your thighs squeezing tight around his head, pulling him tighter against your clit. Your entire body trembling violently. Spasms racking your body. Bringing forth the most intense sensation you had ever experienced.

Suddenly, he stopped. Letting go of your hips. Sliding off your sweaty body. Standing up from the bed. Looking down at you.

“Baby, I know you came, but I'm not done yet.” He said quietly.

Looking down at your spread thighs, he smirked. He began to undo his pants.

You panted, waiting impatiently for him to reveal his erection. You knew what was coming next. You knew this would be the moment of truth. Would he be able to satisfy you? Would he actually be able to give you the satisfaction you were craving?

With one swift motion, his erect cock sprung free. Your eyes widened, almost as if you were surprised to see it. You hadn't been expecting it to be that big.

And you weren't wrong. His cock was absolutely enormous. Longer than any penis you had ever seen. Bulging with potential. You wondered if he could possibly fit inside you.

If he would hurt you.

But you know he wouldn't.

You stared at his cock hungrily, staring at it in disbelief. In awe. You reached out tentatively, touching it lightly. Fingers shaking slightly. Shaking as they traced their way along its length.

You felt the weight of it in your hand. Thicker than any cock you had ever felt. Fuller than any dick you had ever seen.

Before you could fully appreciate his massive erection, he grabbed hold of your wrist. Moving your hand to the tip of his cock.

“Just think about it.” He said quietly. “Imagine how amazing it will feel. Just imagine the sensations running through your body. Imagine how incredible it will feel to have this inside of you. How much more powerful it will be than any dick you've ever had before.”

Thinking about how large his dick would feel stretching your pussy open. Knowing that once he penetrated you, he would never leave. He would be inside you forever. Bringing you so much pleasure.

Giving you such pleasure. Satisfying you so deeply. Giving you what you needed. Allowing you to finally release all your pent up sexual tension. Giving you the ultimate sexual experience.

Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, you placed your lips against the head of his cock. Your tongue darting out. Drawing the warm liquid from his shaft. Overwhelmingly delicious.

Moving down, your lips parted. Your tongue sliding out of your mouth. Stretching out towards his cock. Swirling around it like a tiny tornado. Slickly coating his member with saliva. Getting him nice and wet. Allowing you to slide it further inside your mouth. Gently sucking on it, making sure to take it all in.

“Fuck.” He growled. “Oh fuck. You are so fucking sexy. So beautiful.”

Smiling brightly, you returned his compliment. Leaning forward, your tongue moved further into his crotch. Taking him even deeper inside your mouth. Tongue twirling around his thick base. Up and down the full length of his shaft. Playing with his balls. Feeling the resistance of his perineum.

Slowly moving back up to his tip. Taking him deeper inside your mouth again. Working your way down, taking him all the way to the bottom. Running your tongue along the underside of his shaft. As you slid back up to the tip, you sucked on it gently.

He groaned loudly, reaching out to grab hold of your head. Pushing you downwards so he could sink even deeper into your throat. Your nose pressed against his pubes, inhaling the musky scent. Sucking on his cock like it was a popsicle. Gagging a little bit. His thick length hitting the back of your throat with each movement.

Panting heavily, he held your head firmly in place. Gasping for air as he let out another moan. His dick pulsating wildly inside your mouth. Fluid seeping out of the end of his cock. Massaging your throat. Causing it to tingle pleasantly.

As he released his grip, you released his cock from your mouth. Pausing for a moment to catch your breath. Smiling happily at him. Proud of yourself for being able to handle his huge cock.

He smiled back at you. Reaching down, his fingers wrapping around your chin. Pulling you close to him. He kissed you passionately. Wrapping his arms around you. Holding you tightly. He tasted wonderful. His scent intoxicating. His warmth reassuring.

Gripping your ass tightly, he pulled you onto his lap. Sitting you down onto his hard cock. Watching as it filled your pussy. Slowly slipping inside of you.

Stopping halfway inside you, he gently lifted you up. Removing his erection from your pussy. Grinning as he laid you down on the bed. Positioning himself between your legs. His hard cock positioned at your entrance.

Pulling back slightly, he looked down at you. Seeing the desire in your eyes. Waiting for him to thrust his thick cock inside of you.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped your waist tightly. Slowly pushing forward. Delving inside of you. Feeling you wrap your legs around him. Tightening them around his body. Moaning loudly as he filled you completely.

Releasing his grip on your waist, he grabbed hold of your wrists. Placing them above your head. Hanging limply as he slowly fucked you. Gently pumping his cock into you.

Grinding your hips against him. Panting as you struggled to breathe properly. Wanting desperately to touch his cock, to stroke it. To watch it twitch in your hand. But he didn't allow you to do anything. He continued to thrust into you. Stroking his dick as fast as he could.

“Please.” You begged. “I need you to come inside of me. Please.”

Chuckling, he responded. “Not yet, sweetheart. Not just yet.”

His words spurred you on. Suddenly wanting nothing more than to feel his load splatter inside of you. Needing to feel his seed filling your pussy. Pouring into your body. And you would love every minute of it. Every single second.

He suddenly pulled out of you. Rolling over onto his back. “Climb on top of me. Put your tits in my face. I want to suck on them while you ride me.”

Lifting your ass, you quickly straddled his naked body. Hooking your fingers behind his neck. Settling yourself down onto his hard cock. You moaned loudly as you impaled yourself on him. Your hips bucking back and forth.

Johnny gripped your breasts, tugging on your nipples as you rode him. Squeezing your nipples hard. Twisting them as you slammed your pussy down on his dick. Slowly increasing the speed. Riding him faster and harder until he felt the familiar pressure building up inside of him.

“Hang on baby. Hang on. I'm going to come. Oh god.”

Moaning loudly, you brought yourself closer to climax. Johnny's dick pounding your walls relentlessly. Your whole body shuddering uncontrollably.

Feeling his climax building, Johnny wrapped his arms around you. Holding you tightly. Ensuring that you remain steady. Bringing you closer to release. Kneading your breasts, milking them roughly. Pleasuring them until you were completely overcome by pleasure.

Your orgasm ripping through your body. Crashing down upon you with relentless force. Sweeping you away into an ocean of pure bliss.

He moaned loudly, holding you tight. Panting heavily as he came inside of you. Your pussy gripping him tightly. Keep his semen within you. Silencing his lustful thoughts. Pushing them away, allowing him to rest peacefully.

Holding you closely, he watched as your climax slowly faded away. You lay on his chest, your breathing still erratic.

“So good.” You breathed softly.

“So fucking good.” He agreed. “That was the best. The absolute best."

"The best sex I've had in a long time." You let out a small laugh. You heard the front door of your apartment opening and closing, hearing voices talking about Johnny's coat and shoes. Someone, sounded like Taeyong, laughing at how you and Johnny finally fucked.

"I can hear you guys!" You yelled.

Johnny chuckled. "So I guess the guys are right outside, and they know exactly what happened."

Groaning, you buried your face into Johnny's shoulder. "I can hear Renjun and Haechan asking me all sorts of questions."

Smirking, Johnny spoke. "We can just tell them that the hot tattooed people are finally a couple."

"A couple?" You asked, lifting your head up. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Well, I originally came to see you tonight because I was on a mission." He laughed. "Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?"

Laughing loudly, you hugged him tightly. "I'd love to be your girlfriend, Johnny."

Letting out a sigh of relief, he relaxed against you. "Thank god."

He mumbled, resting his head against yours. Breathing in your lovely scent, he listened to the sound of your heart beating. "This is the first time I've been with someone I really care about. So I don't want to mess it up. It has to work."

Snuggling against him, you smiled. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out together."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Yes." You answered, curious to hear what he was going to say.

"I love you." He told you. "And you need to know that."

"I love you too." You mumbled, running your fingers through his messy hair. "Forever."

He closed his eyes, biting his lower lip. A mischievous smirk appeared on his lips. He looked down at your tattooed sleeve, running his finger over a sunflower one. "I really love this design. What does it mean?"

You chuckled. "Sunflowers remind me of you."

Johnny froze, looking down at your tattoo.

You were shocked to see tears forming in his eyes. But you didn't have time to worry about it because he immediately placed a tender kiss on your lips.

Your heart fluttered wildly at his actions. Never had you felt so alive.

So happy.

So loved.

You hugged him tightly.

"Remember when you used to tease me about getting tattoos?" He asked you, giving you a sheepish smile. He caressed your cheek. "Remember when I told you I wouldn't get another one unless you joined me?"

"Yup." You nodded. "What happened to getting one with me?"

"I eventually got it with Taeyong and Yuta since I wasn't sure whether you wanted one with me or not." Johnny explained. "I'm still waiting to get one with you."

"What if I gave you the tattoo?" You offered, tracing his shoulder tattoo. "One of my designs so it's like you're taking me with you anywhere you go."

"I would love to be inked by you." Johnny whispered, turning his gaze towards you. "Anywhere you want."

Your breath hitched. This is exactly what you wanted.

You could only imagine the gorgeous tattoos you would create together. They would be so incredibly beautiful. A masterpiece. You would cherish them forever.

It would also make you feel special. Knowing that no matter where you went, Johnny would always carry part of you with him. Always be thinking of you. Remembering you. Cherishing your creations.

You didn't know how you could express how grateful you were for his words. Or for him choosing you. Loving you. Being with you.

All you knew was that you were going to treasure these feelings for as long as possible.

#nct #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct smut #nct johnny #johnny #johnny suh #johnny seo

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dmwrites · 7 months

Text

Gem wasn’t sure how she’d been roped into this, but she was standing outside, at night, with a flashlight and a hoodie from Pearl over her dress. Grian, Scar, and Impulse were gathered around a map as she approached the bridge between Grian and Mumbo’s bases.

“Ah, there’s our other G!” Grian said, turning when he heard her footsteps and waving Gem over.

“Guys, what on earth are we doing? Old houses and buildings are one thing, but Hermitcraft? Nothing here was built over two years ago! What kind of ghosts could you possibly think exist here?”

“I don’t know, but there is some serious evidence that there is a ghost on this server.” Impulse said seriously. “We have freezing temperatures in some places-”

“What, like on top of mountains? Or in ice biomes?” Gem scoffed.

Impulse gave her a withering look and continued. “Scar swears he’s seen ghost orbs-”

“I saw them with my own two eyes!” Scar said.

“I thought you could only see them through cameras?” Gem asked.

“And, most importantly, we have a witness.” Impulse said proudly.

“A witness?” Gem asked.

“With bottled proof of this ghost’s existence.” Impulse continued proudly.

“If this witness has actual, real proof that ghosts exist, this could be groundbreaking for the world of ghost hunting.” Grian said, zipping up his backpack. “Okay, let’s go! Lead the way to the witness, Impulse!”

——

The second team GIGS landed in the hole in the ground, Grian made his thoughts known.

“Zedaph is our ghost witness? Impulse, please, you’re supposed to be the brains here. It’s not that I don’t like Zed, but he’s kind of…”

“How do we know he hasn’t been sniffing his test tubes as a zedvancement and hallucinated this all up?” Scar finished the sentence for him.

“Just wait and see.” Impulse replied.

Zedaph came out of a side tunnel moments later, holding a lantern in one hand and a small jar of fluorescent green liquid in the other. He was wearing a frankly horrifying dress (or just a really long shirt) that consisted of stitched-together clothing of all the other hermits.

“Hello, hello!” Zed called to them. “If it’s ghosts you’re looking for, I’ve got the spooks!”

“Zed, what on earth are you wearing?” Gem asked.

“Oh, this is my Halloween costume! I’m all the hermits, in a horrible amalgamation of cloth!”

“Well, he’s got the horrible part down pat.” Grian muttered to Scar.

Zed didn’t seem to hear the comment, as he looked at the four ghost hunters, counting them two times over.

“My friends, aren’t you missing someone?” Zed asked. “Where is the ‘S’ in GIGGS?”

“Skizz isn’t whitelisted on this server, duh.” Scar replied.

Zed grinned, and pulled a square-shaped item from his inventory. “Well, lucky for you, I have him right here on this i-pa- hi- hi-pad. A hi-pad, yes, that’s what this is.”

“Hi there, friends! Who’s ready to hunt some Hermitcraft ghost ass!” Skizz exclaimed from the screen, waving at his friends.

“Skizz!” Grian, Gem, and Scar exclaimed.

“Now that you’ve all assembled, I can tell you my spooky tale.” Zedaph said mysteriously, handing the hi-pad to Impulse. He pulled a campfire out of his inventory and set it down on the ground between them. “It was a dark and stormy night. I was up late, finishing up wiring my newest zedvancement trophy display. I came out to stand right in this very spot, on this ledge, looking over my hole, when something flew past my face!”

Gem gasped as Zed leapt forward, wiggling his fingers at his audience. Grian rolled his eyes. Scar was looking at the dangling animals, clearly not paying attention.

“It was glowing green, and this thing fell directly into the water feature around my bed!” Zed continued, pointing down into the hole, where his bed was. Around the bed were small streams of water, clearly so Zed wouldn’t take fall damage getting down. “I, of course, scrambled to get a lead, thinking it must be dangled at once.”

“I don’t like that your first thought when seeing anything is ‘can I wrap it up in rope and dangle it’, Zed. I would hate to psychoanalyze you.” Grian said.

“But when I got down there,” Zed continued, still acting like he didn’t hear Grian’s comments, “the lead went right through it! It was translucent, clearly a ghost! A green ghost of a man covered in chains! He gave me such a fright, speaking to me with a frankly grating American accent about pinball machines and other odd things. And then he left, floating up into the air and away! And all that was left behind was… this mysterious ghost substance.” Zed finished his story, holding out the bottle of glowing green liquid.

“Mysterious ghost substance?” Impulse asked.

Skizz gasped. “Dude, maybe that’s like the ghost’s sweat, or his p-”

Impulse muted him before he could finish.

“Scar, I dare you to drink that.” Grian said, pointing at the glass.

“Okay.” Scar said, and took the glass from Zed’s hand, popped the cork, and downed the whole thing in one gulp.

“SCAR!” Grian, Impulse, Gem, and Zed cried.

“Grian, why did you dare him to drink it?” Gem asked, smacking Grian’s arm.

“I didn’t think he actually would do it!” Grian cried.

“Don’t lie, you knew he would.” Impulse said, shaking his head. “Oh, sorry Skizz, did you want to say something?” He unmuted Skizz again.

“Is Scar okay?” Skizz cried. “And also, what does it taste like?”

They all looked to Scar, who was smacking his lips thoughtfully. He looked up at all of them. “Why is everyone looking at me?” He asked.

“You just drank ghost bath water, dude.” Skizz said.

“Ohh…” Scar said, looking at the empty glass. “I zoned out, sorry. So this was the ghost evidence?”

“And you drank it, yeah.” Gem said.

“This tastes familiar. I know where the ghost is.” Scar said. “Follow me.”

He took off, leaving Gem and Grian to stare at each other in disbelief, then follow, followed by Impulse thanking Zed for his help before taking off too, holding Skizz on the hi-pad. The ghost-hunting group followed Scar all the way to the middle of the ocean, to a huge pinball machine that lit up the night sky. They landed on the top, looking around.

“Why are we at Joe Hills’ place?” Grian whispered.

“Because that’s where the ghost is.” Scar said, pointing down at a glowing green ghost on the pinball playfield, moving around, placing blocks, trailed by chains. “It’s the Beetlejoest, it’s what Joe Hills turns into sometimes. Bit of an odd guy, but he still bleeds if you use the right arrows.”

“Wow, a real ghost! On Hermitcraft!” Impulse exclaimed. “Let’s set up our ghost hunting equipment, get as much information as we can! Quick, someone grab the parabolic mic!”

“So are we just going to ignore the part where Scar knew what Joe Hills’ ghost tastes like?” Grian asked. “Was I the only one that heard that?”

#happy Halloween this is a mess but funny to me #team giggs #hc9 #beetlejoest

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skyloftian-nutcase · 2 months

Text

It was supposed to have been a relaxing family trip. Zelda had promised a place for them to stay in Castle Town, and they would have had the opportunity to just see the city and not worry about selling anything or doing knightly duties.

Malon should have known better. As much as Link preferred his domestic life, adventure always seemed to find him… and he was all too eager to answer the call.

She didn’t mind going on an adventure with him, honestly. She’d kind of always wanted to. What she hadn’t wanted, though, was to drag their daughter into it as well.

Their journey to Castle Town had been interrupted by beasts, rerouting them towards the forest to the south, near Lake Hylia. It was adjacent to the Lost Woods, and Link claimed it was mostly safe - at the very least it was safer than being exposed in Hyrule Field. He hadn’t wanted to engage out in the open with Malon and Navi so vulnerable, so this had been the next best thing.

The only issue was that Link was injured. And ill on top of it - he’d been coming down with something but had insisted on the family still going to Castle Town, outwitting Malon’s arguments by saying Well this is a vacation, darling, it’ll be restful!

Sighing, Malon leaned against a tree, her daughter nestled safely in her arms. Restful was not the word she’d use for this.

“We outran them,” Link noted as he watched behind them, pacing. With each step he took he faltered, steadily developing a limp.

“Honey, you can’t fight like this,” Malon said worriedly. “We should just stay here until they go away.”

“They might try to look for us,” Link argued. “Besides, the woods aren’t the safest either. It’s just that nothing’s going to go out of its way to attack us. But we can’t stay here.”

“You’re hurt,” Malon reiterated, pointing to the blood on his leg. She’d already wrapped the wound, insisting on taking care of it as soon as possible, but that didn’t mean it was all better now. She really wished they’d packed some milk - of all the times for them to be lacking their own product!

Link sighed heavily, sitting on the forest floor. His brow was furrowed deeply, holding that scowl he used to when worries plagued his mind. Malon reached over to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but to be honest she wasn’t much less anxious. This entire situation was a disaster, and she was frankly starting to get scared.

Link watched her a moment and then looked down. He was definitely deliberating something specific now, based on the way his eyes moved back and forth, one argument clashing with another in some kind of internal debate.

“What is it?” Malon asked.

“Nothing,” Link answered, shaking his head. “Can you do me a favor?”

Malon perked up in an instant, eager to help. “Of course, darling.”

“Can you help me get this boot off?”

Malon glanced at his injured leg and nodded. First, she looped a sling around her to let Navi rest while freeing her arms up. As she bent down to gingerly assist Link, suspicion tickled at the back of her brain. Link rarely asked for help - the man triaged himself by situation, not injury. Out in the field he would write off a broken bone as an inconvenience, but in the safety of their home a cold was the deadliest disease on earth.

But this situation wasn’t safe. Why was he suddenly so compliant? What was he up to?

Malon was about to ask as she reached for the boot, when a bright light flashed, warmth filled the air, and Link jerked with a muffled yell. Malon gasped, rising to her feet and grabbing the nearest stick as a weapon, eyes wide as she looked for whatever had hurt her husband, when—

When two glowing eyes looked back at her.

Malon stared. And then it clicked. “What are you doing out here?! Why, that idiotic husband of mine, take that off right now and I’ll punch him myself—“

The Fierce Deity hastily stood, taking three steps back as Malon charged at him. “This wasn’t of my volition.”

“You both know that mask hurts him, why is he putting it on when he’s sick and injured already—“

Navi burst into tears, upset by the racket. Malon paused from her tirade only due to such desperate circumstances, shushing her daughter and rocking her gently while glaring daggers at the deity.

“Perhaps he didn’t think he could protect you in his current state,” Fierce offered.

“That’s ridiculous!” Malon denied even as her mind screamed in agreement with Fierce. She herself had just been saying it.

But—but—oh, that husband of hers! He was getting the lecture of his life when he took that mask off!

A twig nearby snapped, and the deity had his blade out in an instant. Malon tried to calm Navi, who was still greatly perturbed, and she let the mythical being take the lead. He quickly rooted out the source of the noise. Malon had to admit she certainly felt safe watching the demigod dispatch the beasts with so much ease it might as well have been a joke.

When the danger had passed, she quietly asked, “Can you even feel the injury he had?”

The Fierce Deity glanced at her, and he tested the affected extremity. “A little, yes. I know he hurt it.”

“Things just… don’t hurt you, do they?” Malon huffed, marveling a little at it. Perhaps that was why Link had chosen to let him take over - nothing could slow him down.

The deity blinked, head tilting down as if he were considering it. “They do.”

He didn’t elaborate, and somehow that made the words all the heavier. Malon watched him a moment in silence, Navi finally calm in her arms. Then she sighed, finding a fallen tree to sit on, and she pat the space beside her invitingly. As she waited for the deity to approach, she started humming Epona’s song while rocking Navi back and forth.

Fierce slowly made his way over to her, sitting with such care it was as if he was approaching a frightened animal. Malon didn’t think too much into it - she knew his focus was on her daughter. She continued to sway gently, beaming down at her baby girl. Navi was calm, resting once more. Not for the first time, Malon had to marvel at the little one. She was perfect and beautiful.

And now she was safe.

Sighing, Malon said quietly. “Thank you.”

Fierce smiled softly. “Protection is my sworn duty. But more than duty, it is always a pleasure to protect Link’s family.”

Malon mirrored his smile, resuming her humming for a little while. Eventually, the deity commented, “She’s gotten bigger since you showed her to me.”

“That was six months ago,” Malon giggled. “Of course she’s gotten bigger.”

“I… do not know how quickly mortals grow,” Fierce noted a little uncertainly. “I've ascertained that the little Hero's journey wasn't exactly traditional. How long will she be this helpless?”

“Don’t you worry about her,” Malon chided gently with a chuckle. She knew that concerned tone and expression anywhere - it was still her husband’s face, even if the mask’s magic distorted it to share the deity's spirit. The two worried all the same. It was honestly kind of cute. “Link and I can take care of her.”

The deity continued to watch her daughter, face softening.

“Now don’t you tell me you don’t think we’re up to the task,” Malon teased, elbowing him.

He straightened a little, a smile pulling at his lips. “I remember little of my time before this mask, but I do recall that a mother’s love and protection is far fiercer than I could ever be.”

Malon felt a swell of pride in her chest, and she giggled. “Aw honey, look at you buttering me up. That won’t save you.”

Fierce blinked. “From what?”

“From eating,” Malon insisted, pulling out some biscuits that had been wrapped up for the journey. “Link needs it, and you don’t get to eat that much. My daddy always said my cookin’ was fit for a god, so I guess it’s time to test that.”

She actually managed to pull a laugh out of Fierce with that one, and it filled the air with mirth and magic. Malon felt like she'd just accomplished some grand quest like Link did on his journeys, and she laughed with him. Fierce eventually took the biscuits, sniffing them hesitantly.

Malon raised an eyebrow at him, but the gesture was lost upon the mysterious being. He took a laughably small bite, testing it, and then sighed, closing his eyes.

"You alright?" Malon asked quietly, trying to parse out the gesture. In most it would be a sign of appreciation, but Fierce's mannerisms didn't always match the norm.

"Six months," the deity said quietly before taking another bite. "It's such a short time."

"It certainly has flown by," Malon muttered, looking down at her baby. Navi had grown so much. She wanted nothing more than for time to stop. It was pretty ironic considering who she was married to. But his magic over time, as fantastical as it was, would be a curse in this situation. No, Malon didn't want to live the same days over and over as she herself grew old. She just wanted to cherish the time she had as much as possible.

Some days she did wish she could slow it down, though.

She kissed her daughter's soft head, taking in the scent of her skin, so new and unblemished, naïve to the worries lines her parents bore. Navi was her entire world, and she couldn't imagine it any other way.

"I suppose mortals do grow up quite quickly."

Malon nuzzled her baby girl a little more before looking up at the deity. He seemed very sad and alone all of a sudden, biscuit forgotten in his hand as it rested on his lap.

"Oh honey," she cooed gently, shifting closer to him. "All that means is we treasure what we do have."

Fierce watched her, his brow heavy over his eyes, a weight pushing on his shoulders. Malon tried reading into it, trying to figure out what was leaving the sweet mysterious man so perturbed. She supposed it was fairly obvious, though.

He would outlive them all. They both knew it. But that didn't mean—

Oh.

He didn't think he would have a chance to treasure such moments. How could he? He was locked away in a mask, only touching reality when worn. And Link had no reason to wear it.

Well, that just wouldn't do. They had to figure something out. Malon didn't wish the pain of that mask on her husband, but she didn't wish the loneliness of its imprisonment on Fierce.

"We have right now," she reasoned, trying to give him the most sincere smile she could. "Come on, love. Take your armor off and relax. As long as you're eating and resting, I reckon it'll be okay for a little bit, at least."

"You three were going somewhere," Fierce noted. "I should clear the road and escort you there safely."

"Maybe so," Malon replied. "But you're going to finish eating first."

He complied, finishing the biscuit before being handed another. After having several snacks from the provisions the family had packed, Malon and Fierce rose together. His gaze seemed to settle on Navi, and Malon held her out carefully, nodding in encouragement to the tall being.

Gently, oh so gently, Fierce took the baby in his arms. Instinctively, he swayed on his feet, eyes never leaving her face. Malon's heart warmed at the sight of it.

“Sometimes, I just wonder,” Malon remarked as she watched him. “You’re so… compassionate, and kind. They claim you're a war god, but you're really not. You love children so much. Surely… I think you might’ve had some, you know? Back then and all.”

Fierce watched her in silence before he tilted his head to the side with a smile, returning Navi to her mother. “I do have children.”

Malon jumped, surprised. “You do?”

“Yes,” the deity hummed quietly, a deep, rumbling sound that was nearly akin to purring. “And I’m very proud of both you.”

The words settled over her a moment before sinking in, and she knew she had to look like a deer caught in lantern light. The deity’s smile grew, almost as if teasing, but she knew he was being genuine. And she… felt almost at a loss for words by it. Her throat tightened a hair before she laughed, stepping towards him and pulling him into a hug. “Oh, you. You’re just as bad as Link.”

The Fierce Deity stood there stiffly a moment, clearly caught off guard by the contact, but slowly, he settled into the embrace. His hands were warm on Malon’s back as he pulled her closer, careful not to hurt Navi between them. His breath warmed her hair at the top of her head, and Malon nuzzled against his chest a little.

Silence hung amicably in the air, a pleasant comfort and warmth like a hearth ablaze with a cheery fire. Slowly, fairies came out of hiding, dancing and twinkling in the shadows and bringing a glow to the forest like the pink hues of a sunrise.

The supposed god of war knew peace, and Malon held this moment in her heart forevermore.

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ighnari · 4 days

Text

010.

debris | alhaitham

PAIR # alhaitham / reader

NOTE # nothing significant. just a rant-y rambling piece for practice!

WORDS # 900

.　⁺ . 　 ˚　✦　.　　+ ⁺　　 . ✦

the law of three states that one has to go through an action three times for it to become a pattern. it has been three weeks since your last break up—your third relationship in a row that also lasted three months—and you’ve never felt worst. you’re not superstitious. unlike some merchants who foretold their sales based on the strangest sightings, you depend on anything that’s more concrete… like… past experiences?

the “law of three” is nothing special. you first encountered it through a book you browsed while in the library, and as intriguing as it was, you promptly forgot the author of the theory. it wasn’t something that deserved such a deep dive, and you almost believed the researcher simply needed some topic for his graduating thesis, yet here you are, prying books off shelves like a maniac.

what did the author say about it? how is it related to luck? is there any application of it on relationships, perhaps? there has to be something wrong with the world—or the world struck you with a curse.

you did ask the librarian to help you but they shoo-ed you away, for whatever reason. maybe you don’t look smart enough, so you must find it without any help to prove her wrong while making an underhand statement that she sucks at her job.

however, you’ve been in the library for three hours and there is no sign of the book, or anything on the theory for that matter. you can’t have dreamt something like that, right?

then, a hand reaches for the book you are going to grab. you pull your limb back, muttering a quick apology before any collision happens, and widen your eyes at the sight of the person beside you. it’s alhaitham. your very first ex.

of course you’ll see him again. he works in the akademiya! so the question should be why haven’t you bumped into him since his breakup with you until now?

“h-hello…” you say, facing books as if they are the real deal. “it’s been… a while.”

“i heard what happened.”

straight to the point as always, you think, holding back a frown. there seems to be a malfunction in the logical department of your brain, and consequently, it’s messing with your heart. somehow, you believe this is a fateful encounter.

“oh… about that…” you mumble, wondering how he heard of your breakup. the person you dated is not part of the akademiya, and you doubt alhaitham is good friends with him. “i believe i’m doing well.”

“i doubt so. you have the stature of a fatigued. anyone can tell you’re not taking care of yourself. you’re too loud in that aspect.”

uh, rude?

but he’s right. you have not been doing well. it’s like you live in another dimension with how messed up your routine has become. you wake when others are asleep, and sleep and others are awake. you even struggled to wake up during the library’s opening hours so you can find that damn book of thirds. why doesn’t the library open 24/7? you can never wrap your head around that.

“why are you here?”

when you look at him, he has a few books under his armpit, on topics that are found elsewhere in the library, and an opened book in his other hand. he scans the contents before his eyes slide to the side to get a glimpse of you.

with an unchanging expression, he says, “i’m collecting references for work.”

“no, you know what i’m asking. why are you here? this is the shelves of superstitions in sumeru. you aren’t into that kind of thing.”

“the same question can be said with you.” he closes the book he’s reading and places it back. “frankly, i’m disappointed.”

you huff and grab the book he was reading. it was the book you wanted to take too, titled ‘superstitions and its origins: the truth behind truths’.

flipping to the first chapter, you mutter an annoyed “whatever.” the first page signals this isn’t the book you’re looking for, yet you can’t lift your feet and escape.

“you were disappointed too when you walked away for good. shouldn’t you going to do the same now?”

“i don’t want to see you the way you are.”

curses. you swear your heart didn’t almost flip inside out.

“desperate? despondent? deranged?”

“deranged.”

you slap the book closed. you don’t have the energy for this. but before you can turn to leave, alhaitham’s words strike you still.

“i saw the worse in you, and i thought it couldn’t get any worse than that. you truly do believe you hold no wrong.”

you point the book at alhaitham.

“you’re arrogant. under that calm and unfortunately charming demeanour of yours, you’re nothing but a prideful pain in the ass. you never listen.”

“there is nothing substantial to be heard, especially not from someone who believes in superstitions. i didn’t expect you to stoop so low. perhaps you should survey books on self-reflection instead.”

you squeeze the book back on the shelf, uncaring if books on the other end fall at your rough gesture. librarians are hired to clean such mess anyways.

however, your display of anger doesn’t matter as alhaitham has already turned away. you stand, thinking if you’ll see that image of him fading in the distance with his back against you another time.

by the law of threes, you will, and the thought of it breaks your heart—worse than any break up you’ve endured after him.

if you give yourself one chance to think about what he said, perhaps he may be right that you won’t ever admit you are the cause of the debris around you.

#genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #x reader #reader insert #t: practice #i just really wanted to write a flawed reader #and was reminded of what the steambird server said abt a.lhaitham vs dr r.atio #and then this happened

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glorf1ndel · 3 months

Note

Glorestor please!!! (silm blog @mae-it-be-an-evening-dhros)

Your ask inspired me to write the first chapter of a Glorestor fic! Hope you enjoy. :D Also on Ao3 here!

Darling (800 words, Glorestor)

“Who’s the cutest little thing of all time?”

Not again, Erestor thought. The counselor was standing in the corridor outside Elrond’s office, talking to Lindir about Second Age musicians, but at the sound of Glorfindel’s voice, he pursed his lips in annoyance. Over the past few weeks, the captain had become overly flirtatious with the counselor. It was almost as if he knew about Erestor’s interest in him; after all, who in Imladris hadn’t fallen in love with the golden-haired hero of Gondolin? But no, Erestor kept a tight lid on his feelings. Still, Glorfindel would take every opportunity to mess with him, whether they were alone or in public. Random touches, winking, even the occasional whisper in Erestor’s ear. And the worst part of it all? The pet names. Quite frankly, being called cutie or sweetheart was becoming unbearable.

Erestor whirled around, prepared to tell the captain off–

“I’ve had enough of this nonsense, Glorfindel–“

Only to find himself facing, yes, Glorfindel, but also… A cat? A kitten, actually. The captain had crouched down and was petting the small, furry creature, his gaze filled with adoration. Upon hearing the counselor, he looked up and smiled.

“Erestor! Come see who I found!” Glorfindel picked up the kitten, then rose to his feet. “Aren’t you the sweetest, most lovely baby?” He cooed.

Erestor hesitated, his words catching in his throat.

“Oh, Eru, you thought he was talking to you?” Lindir whispered.

“Shut up, Lindir!”

“Come here,” Glorfindel called again.

Erestor took a deep breath and walked over. Thankfully, Lindir did not follow, but his laughter echoed down the corridor. At least Glorfindel seemed to not have heard the minstrel’s teasing, or that would have been the end of Erestor.

“I just found this kitten wandering the corridors.”

Shaking off his nerves, Erestor took a good look at the kitten, which had settled comfortably in Glorfindel’s arms. A girl, he acknowledged. The kitten had long, black hair and blue eyes that were slowly closing as she fell asleep.

“I think I’m going to keep her. What should her name be?”

“She probably belongs to someone, Glorfindel.”

“Well, I suppose I can ask around. But if nobody says anything, she’s mine.”

“All right.” Erestor said with a shrug. “I don’t know how you have time to take care of a cat.”

“They’re not very high maintenance. I had one back in Gondolin; his name was Sunnybell. He was always wandering around the grounds, doing what he pleased.”

Erestor smiled slightly. Whenever Glorfindel talked about his time in Gondolin before the city’s fall, it was with a fondness that lit up his face. Even Erestor could not deny that seeing Glorfindel smile was a pleasant thing.

“Well, I hope you can come up with a better name for this one than Sunnybell.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it,” Glorfindel mused, “she kind of looks like you. With the black hair and blue eyes.” He stroked the kitten’s fur gently. “Maybe I’ll name you Erestor.”

“Absolutely not. Besides, Erestor is not a name for a female cat.”

“Erestorellë, then.”

“Glorfindel, I am vetoing your giving that cat any version of my name.”

“Aww, but wouldn’t you want the most adorable sweetheart in the world to be called Erestor?”

He snorted and crossed his arms. The words left his mouth immediately:

“From all the ridiculous things you’ve been saying lately, I thought I already was.”

Glorfindel stilled. Slowly, his gaze crept up from the kitten to Erestor. That was when Erestor realized he’d made a mistake, because the look in Glorfindel’s eyes was amused, yes, but more than that, it was knowing.

“Erestor, are you jealous of this cat?”

“What?” He hissed, fighting to keep himself from blushing. “Don’t be daft.”

Glorfindel shook his head, his blond curls swirling around his shoulders. The sudden movement made the kitten stir, and she started playing with Glorfindel’s hair. Oh, to be in Glorfindel’s arms, Erestor thought, like a fool.

“You are!” Glorfindel insisted. “You don’t want me to call this kitten cute, or sweet, or lovely, because you want to be the only one I call those things.”

“What I want is to wipe that smug look off your face.”

“With your lips.”

“You are a horrible Elf,” Erestor said, because how in Middle Earth was he supposed to respond to that? “Stop teasing me. And don’t give this cat my name.”

Glorfindel only shrugged, which gave Erestor an opening to walk away. He swiveled on his heel, prepared to flee the scene. Of course, Glorfindel chose that very moment to call out,

“If you say so, darling!”

Keep walking, Erestor told himself, even as Glorfindel’s laughter made his heart ache. He would have to spend less time around the captain, especially now that Glorfindel had found the kitten. It would not do to get used to this.

#lotr #lord of the rings #silm #silmarillion #glorestor #glorfindel #erestor #lindir #tolkien #tolkien fic #lotr fanfic #silm fic

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borathae · 1 year

Text

↳ Index [Chapter 20 - Attic]

Warnings: lots of emotion, they finally talk!, deep and honest conversation, i want them to be happy always

Wordcount: 6.1k

a/n: *in Kookie’s voice* finallyyy

“Princess?” he tilts his head to the side, “what are you doing here?”

“Kook called me and said that he needed help. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi shows you his phone.

“The same”, he says.

“I don’t get it. Where is he?”

Bang!

You both flinch, eyes flitting to the door which just this moment flung closed.

Click.

Someone just locked it.

“What is happening?” you ask, hurrying closer to Yoongi because quite frankly, you were feeling very spooked. He seems annoyed, inching closer to the door, “do you know what’s happening?”

“Yeah”, he says, “hey, punk. What are you doing?” he calls out, banging his hand on the door.

“I’m doing what’s necessary!” Jungkook’s voice sounds behind the door.

“Kookie? What’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Yeah”, he says, “but you guys aren’t, so you are not leaving this room until you are.”

“Oh”, you let out, eyes flitting to Yoongi as everything falls into place.

“Open the door, brat”, Yoongi growls, banging on the door again.

“No! You guys need to talk first!”

“This isn’t funny, open the door before I rip it out of its hinges.”

“No” Jungkook sounds stubborn, “you guys love each other, so stop avoiding conversation.”

Yoongi sneaks a glance at you. The intensity of his gaze makes you gulp.

“This is your last chance”, he growls, wiggling the doorknob violently.

Music starts. Slow romance songs. Somewhere in this room Jungkook must have hidden his bluetooth speaker and now he pressed play on his phone.

“Jungkook!” Yoongi warns, “open this fucking door, you bratty punk.”

“I’ll open this door once you talked”, Jungkook answers him.

“Okay that’s it. I’m ripping it out”, Yoongi says, tugging at the doorknob.

You stop him, placing your hand atop his’.

“Or maybe we could try?” you say quietly.

Yoongi studies your face, jaw tense and eyes dark.

“Please? Maybe?” you whisper.

He exhales loudly, dropping his hand from the doorknob.

“What do you want to say?” he says dryly.

“Apologize, I guess? Say how fucking sorry I am? And that I miss you like crazy.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi acknowledges you.

“I’m so sorry.”

He nods his head and turns. You watch as he drags his feet to the mattress, sitting down right at the edge of it.

You hurry to him, sitting down. You give him his space, knowing that he needs it.

You stay silent for now, wanting to give him the chance to speak his mind.

“I can’t believe this idiot is using my own tricks against me”, he murmurs, “fuck, he’s such a brat.”

“You have to admit, the idea is kind of genius.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Don’t blame the student, you’re just a good teacher. It’s not his fault that he learned from the best”, you say, making him scoff. It was laced with the slightest amount of amusement.

“Yeah, I…I just, fuck-”, he says, head lowered and shoulders sagging, “I can’t do this. This was a stupid idea. I’m ripping the door out”, he says, trying and failing to flee because before he can stand up, you have him pulled back down.

“I like talking”, you say, caressing his knuckles.

“I feared you were gonna say that”, he murmurs.

“Really?” you chuckle even if the air is tense, “why is it so bad that I do?”

“Because I suck at it?” Yoongi lets out a nervous scoff.

“I don’t think you do. Just tell me how you feel, maybe?”

“I don’t know how I feel, okay?” he sounds pissed but you know that his voice is only as harsh as it is because he is nervous and in an unfamiliar situation. His guards are up, that is all, “I just know that I’m still so goddamn upset with you, but despite that it sucks ass to give you the silent treatment. I just…”

He sneaks a shy glance at you.

“I care about you”, he whispers, “you are different, I don’t want to treat you like I normally treat people who anger me. Once people really piss me off, I have no problem cutting ties, but not with you. I don’t want to cut you outta my life.”

“I’m glad you think that way. You’re different for me too. I’m sad when people leave, but it’s okay in the end because I expected them to leave. But with you, I turn into a complete clingy idiot and I want to keep clinging onto you to avoid being left”, you laugh painfully, “giving you your space the past few days was so hard because I missed you like crazy.”

Yoongi scoffs.

“I know, it’s so childish”, you say.

“No, it’s not, I’m”, he exhales, “shit, I don’t know what to say. How do you talk shit out?”

“I get that. You need time and your thoughts are probably jumbled. Can I tell you how I feel maybe?”

“Yes please.”

“Okay so. I think, I’m so clingy because I really love you? Like actually love you? A-and I haven’t had that kinda love with anyone before you and it’s so epic to feel”, you catch the little nod he does, “but now, I’m really scared that I fucked up completely and you’ll never forgive me. And I’m sorry, so goddamn sorry. That’s how I feel. I feel so guilty and so sorry and so scared that I’ll lose you.”

Yoongi nods his head in understanding. He stays silent as he thinks over what you told him, picking at the skin of his thumbnail to keep himself grounded. There is an owl outside your window. It is making noise, cooing behind the glass at something that will never be revealed to you. Maybe it is the moon, maybe the stars or maybe it is solely doing it for itself.

“This is the point where you say something”, you whisper, studying his features.

“I know”, he answers you just as quietly, looking at you for just a second before he averts his gaze back to his own hands. “You didn’t fuck up completely”, he begins, “I don’t want to leave you. I want to forgive you, I really do. But I just…can’t do this yet. I’m not ready for that, because I feel…”

He shies away, touching the side of his neck almost as if he wanted to soothe himself.

“I’m so hurt”, he presses out, forcing the tremor in his voice to be as quiet as possible, “knowing that you did all of that so easily hurts me. I haven’t slept in days because I keep repeating what happened. I still feel your blood on my fingers, fuck.”

Yoongi looks at his trembling hands.

You want to reach out and hold them, but you don’t know if you are allowed to. So you look at his hand and feel your heart twist in pain.

“I hate blood sharing so much”, he presses out.

“I hate it now too”, you say.

“Maybe it’s because I’m prude and stuck-up like Jimin said, but I can’t understand this lifestyle. It hurt me every single time in the past and I hurt people too because of it and I guess…”

He lets out an exhausted sigh.

“I guess what hurts me so much right now is the thought that you were willing to partake in the lifestyle which caused me so much harm?” he almost asks the sentence, “maybe it was my own fault too? I know that it’s unfair of me to expect of you to know how I feel about blood sharing when I haven’t specifically told you yet, but I just thought that…that I- I don’t know how to say it.”

He sits up, putting some distance between the two of you. He is fumbling with his fingers awkwardly.

“Just say how you want to say it. It’s okay.”

“Goddamn it, I thought that I had made it clear enough for you to at least connect the dots. You’re so intelligent and always make great connections and yet you couldn’t even think for a second that maybe you wanting to be a, a”, he falters for a second, “a fucking living blood bag could hurt me? I walked in on you being fucked so roughly whilst bleeding out and it makes my heart ache whenever I think about it. Fuck, I could throw up thinking about what they did to you. Why would you want that?”

He looks at you.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers.

“For what?”

“I was being harsh. Y-you told me I should say it how I wanted to, but it sounded harsh. I can’t help it, I’m not used to being gentle.”

“You didn’t sound harsh. Thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah, well”, he turns his head away, touching his own ear, “whatever.”

“I really hear you, my love”, you say, placing your hand on his thigh, “and you are right, I really should have made that connection, but I didn’t and for that I’m really sorry.”

You squeeze his thigh.

“You have every right to be upset about what you had to see”, you say, “we went too far. The thing you had to walk in on was too much.”

Yoongi nods his head, balling his shaking fingers into fists.

“I don’t know if this will help you feel better, but the other times we shared blood weren’t like that.”

Yoongi tightens his fists, biting back a whimper wanting to come out.

“The sex during the sharing wasn’t like that in the past. I wasn’t in pain during the other times and I-”

“Be quiet”, Yoongi interrupts you, “be quiet when all you can do is defend him. Over and over and over again. Fuck.”

The last word was said with such heartbreak that it hurts you just as much.

“I can’t take much more”, he presses out, hiding his face behind his hand, “please, don’t talk about this. It hurts so much.”

“Yoongi”, you breathe shakily, placing your hand on his thigh, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset you, I wanted to assure you that I wasn’t always treated like that. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t flinch away, he doesn’t tense up, he doesn’t react. He just sits there, shoulders shaking and face buried in his hands.

“I’m so sorry”, you choke out, scooting closer to rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“Why?” he croaks, “why did you do this?” his voice cracks, “I don’t understand”, he squeaks out and sobs into his hands, “why do you keep defending him? Why do you do that? Why?”

He turns his head, looking at you through the curtain of his tears.

“Ever since you met him he hurt you. He lies to you, manipulates you, controls your mind and gets you hurt over and over again”, he furrows his brows, “and he doesn’t even see it necessary to apologise”, he spits angrily, before sadness washes over his features again rendering him unable to look at you. He buries his face back in his hands, sobbing loudly, “why do you keep defending him? What do you see in him? I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry”, you press out, “I don’t know why I do, but you’re right. You, you really are.”

Yoongi whimpers, curling into himself as his body begins to shake.

“Hey, my love”, you cup the back of his head in worry, “what’s wrong? You are shaking like crazy.”

Yoongi squeezes his head, “I’m gonna lose you to him”, he croaks, coughing out a sob, “I’m so scared that he’s gonna kill you.”

“No my love, no. He won’t kill me, I know him.”

“Yes he will”, he presses out in a trembling voice, “he almost did so when he fucked you. Oh god”, he retches as if his stomach wants to empty itself, “fuck”, he gags again, coughing afterwards, “I almost lost you”, he croaks, coughing out a gagged sob.

“Are you having a panic attack?”

He nods his head as best as possible, twisting his own hair to the point it barely stays on his scalp. He sobs and gags, convulsing in the intensity of it.

“Okay, that’s- don’t worry, I’ve been living with those bastards my entire life. I know they suck, but you’ll get through this.”

Yoongi wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut. He can barely breathe. His chest is so tight. His tummy keeps tensing up.

You keep him grounded with a soft touch to the back of his neck, massaging him slowly. You have no idea how much this helps, but you hope that it does.

“We’ll do something my cousin taught me. We called it the 54321 game. It’s very easy, trust me”, you say.

“I-I..don’t..want…games”, he gets out.

“It’s helpful. You just have to tell me five things you can see. Then four, three, two until we’re at one. And we’ll repeat the process with all your senses until you feel better.”

“What? How is, is that gonna help?”

“Just try. Go as slow as you need to.”

“No.”

“Yes Yoongi. We have to ground you again. Now come on, tell me five things you can see.”

Yoongi does. He begins with five things, breathing slower once he reached four things. He stops shaking after the three things he can feel and stops clutching his own hair after two things he can hear. He says his tears for one thing he can taste and by that time, his breathing has gotten back to normal and his eyes stopped crying.

He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t move. He simply sits, staring at the floor with glassy eyes whilst breathing normally. You know how exhausted he must feel right now.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better”, he says without emotion. It’s a telltale sign of how drained the panic attack left him.

“Good, that’s good to hear”, you comb his messy bangs out of his face, “I’m glad that you feel a little better, my love. You did really well with the game.”

Yoongi inhales and squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his fingers around your wrist just to hold something. He pulls your hand to his cheek, making you cup it. Only then he exhales, doing so terribly shakily. His fingertips are cold while his palms are sweaty. You hold him even tighter.

“Please don’t leave me this way”, Yoongi begs in a whisper, “please don’t do that. It would kill me. Please.”

“Of course not. Oh my love”, you say, scrambling off the mattress just to kneel down in front of him, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. Feel that?” you press his hand to your chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your pulse is beating against your ribcage, reminding him that you were here. That you were alive.

Yoongi twists a bundle of your shirt so he can pull you closer, feel you better, make sure that what he feels is real.

“Can you feel that?” you ask, squeezing his hand, “can you feel my heartbeat?”

He nods his head.

“I’m still here, my love”, you promise him, “I’m still here”, you repeat the words so he will truly hear you. So that he knows that you aren’t lying. You’re still here and you won’t leave like this.

But Yoongi doesn’t believe you. This is just a trick again. A trick of the evil entity which has been writing his life and turned it into the lonely, dark play it has always been.

He pulls you into him, lowers his head to your chest so his ear was pressed against it. His eyes close. Your fingers tangle in his hair and scratch at his scalp. The touch sends shivers down his spine.

Tudun. Tudun. Tudun.

Your pulse echoes in your chest. He can feel it too. Rhythmical and constant. Fast because you are feeling just as upset as he is. But it’s right there. Even if fast, it’s right there. The proof that you are alive, that those horrifying images haunting him are just that. Horrifying images which haunt him. You didn’t leave him.

Yoongi releases a shuddering breath, wrapping his arms around you so he can pull you close.

You cradle his head, placing a kiss atop of it. He may seem exhausted to you, but he feels relieved. He isn’t a stranger to panic attacks. They haunted him throughout his whole life and most lasted days. This is the first attack which came and went within minutes and Yoongi knows that it was only because you helped him. He feels so relieved.

“Yoongi my love, I am really so goddamn sorry”, you whisper.

Yoongi nods his head and lifts it. He leans into you. You cup his cheeks to wipe his tears away.

“I know”, he whispers, staring into your eyes as if they were the only thing he can see.

“What can I do to make it better? I want to fix this.”

“You don’t…” he hesitates and looks away. He pulls you close. You allow him, hugging him when he rests his head on your shoulder.

“Whatever you need, I will do it”, you whisper.

“I don’t know what I need. I’m so…” he lets out a shaky breath, “I’m so tired.”

He hopes that you understand what he means with that. That he is so tired, not only physically but also of making decisions. He can’t be strong anymore, he has no energy left to decide what he needs.

“I understand”, you say and you mean it, “then I’ll hold you for a while, yeah?”

He nods his head, growing soft and incredibly small in your arms. As if all he needed to finally take off the mask of strength were your words of understanding.

You run your fingers up and down his back, play with his hair and reassure him of your presence with soft kisses to his closed lids and forehead. There is no strength holding him up, he rests against you with his entire weight but you don’t mind. He can lean on you for as long as he needs to.

“Why do you still love him?” his voice is barely audible.

“Yoongi…” you whisper, feeling a painful lump form in your chest.

“Why do you still do that? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know”, you press out the words.

“Does he force you? Like he did back then? Does he know something I don’t? Is he blackmailing you? Why do you still want him here?”

“None of those, my love. I’m just…just…sad.”

“Sad?”

“Yes, sad. Sad because he was so sweet and lovely once and now… now he doesn’t even deem it necessary to see his own faults. This can’t be him. This isn’t like him. I don’t want to accept that this is the real him.”

“Maybe you should”, he trembles in a little sob, “before he kills you. Oh god.”

You squeeze him tighter, hoping that this could stop the panic from rising in his chest again.

“I’m here my love”, you assure him, “and you have to believe me when I say that I don’t want to bloodshare anymore. I won’t do it again, you have to believe me.”

“What if he wants it again?”

“Then I tell him no. He has to respect my decisions, doesn’t matter what he wants.”

“What if you fight with him because of it?”

“It’s a little too late for that already.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re already fighting because of it.”

“Oh.”

“But that doesn’t matter right now and it’s a problem you don’t have to help me with. Don’t worry about it, my love”, you caress his knee, “I don’t want to blood share anymore, I told him that.”

He lifts his head, staring at you with childish, sad hopefulness.

“Really?” he whispers.

“Yes, my love. Really”, you assure him, “I love you the most I ever loved a person and I would do anything for you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Min Yoongi. Fucking yes.”

Yoongi nods his head, resting his hand atop yours.

“Thank you”, he gets out in a small whisper, sinking into you again afterwards. You hold him tightly, playing with his hair.

“Of course, I want to hear what upsets you, so I can work on changing it.”

“Me too”, he says, sneaking a glance at you but avoiding eye contact, “can I still have some time? I want to think more.”

“Yes, you can. We talked about a lot of stuff right now, I get it. I want you to be able to sort through your thoughts. You need that, don’t you?”

He nods his head, “sorry, that’s how I function I guess.”

“It’s okay. I respect that.”

“Thank you”, he whispers, squeezing your waist softly and resting his head on your shoulder.

“Can I ask for one more reassurance that you won’t break up with me, though?”

He lifts his head to look at you.

“I, I want to give you time, I really do. But I get so anxious that you’ll change your mind and break up with me. Sorry, I guess I function that way?”

Yoongi nods his head, “I understand, I do”, he says and caresses your waist gently, “I don’t want to break up with you. You’re my love.”

“Okay, that’s good to hear. Thank you for the reassurance.”

“Mhm”, he nods his head. He turns away slightly and looks at the ground, “can we keep the panic attack between us?”

“Of course, my love. You know by now, what happens between us stays between us.”

“Thank you, it means a lot.”

“To me too”, you say, caressing his cheeks, “can I tell you one last thing before you leave?”

“Sure?” he sounds wary, cocking his right eyebrow up.

“And please don’t think that this is some asshole scheme to keep you here, I-I’m just trying to clear s-stuff up”, you stutter.

“Just tell me, ___”, he says, eyes glued to your face nervously.

“Okay so”, you begin, “will it change anything about how you think if I told you that I didn’t want to drink Jimin’s blood?”

Yoongi straightens up, rolling his shoulders back. His eyes carry shock and deep down the first ambers of rage flicker.

“What did he do?” he asks, growling the words.

“It, it was that night at the club a-and I was in the bathroom when he came after me and we, uhm, we uh, did the thing.”

“Tch.”

“And then he began kissing my neck and then all of a sudden he bit me.”

Yoongi clenches his jaw, staring at you with dark eyes.

“And because he didn’t want Tae to find out, he uhm… made me swallow his blood. And then cleaned me to hide the blood.”

You stare at him once you finished your story. He is dead silent, eyes dark and focused on you. It makes you nervous to have him look so calm and yet so angry. Every passing second spent in silence feels like hours. You did what you had to do. You told him what Jimin did, just like you promised Seokjin, and yet now that you did, you wonder if it was even the right thing to do.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” his voice is quiet, but you know better than to trust it. Yoongi is boiling in anger.

“Because he told me that if I told anyone, Tae would want him to leave and I’d be responsible for him losing his best friend again.”

“Fucking hell”, he presses out, looking away, “you should have fucking told me.”

“I was scared.”

“Of what? You know you can tell me anything”, he hisses.

“I felt. No”, you stop yourself, “feel”, you correct yourself, “guilty for what happened.”

“Why?”

“Because I let him kiss me like that and I, you know uhm, orgasmed and I didn’t even stop him until it was already done.”

“Holy fuck, please tell me you wanted him to do this you. Please princess, tell me he didn’t do even more to you than just force feed you blood. I swear if he did, I’m gonna fucking torture him.”

“I wanted the, uhm, naughty things. I guess. I was drunk, so yeah”, it is hard confessing such things, it makes you feel so ashamed to admit it, “just not the blood and the biting. He asked for consent for the dirty stuff, just went too far in the end.”

“Fuck”, Yoongi presses his hand against his forehead, “holy fuck, I’m going to actually kill him.”

“Please don’t do that. This, this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t want you to get upset.”

“Upset? I’m not upset, I’m fucking furious”, Yoongi growls, looking at you with ruby eyes, “how dare he do this to you. I’m going to rip him to shreds.”

“Please don’t”, you beg, trying to calm him down by taking his left hand.

“Fuck”, he exhales, hiding his face in his own knees as he folds into himself. He twists the hair at the back of his head, “why didn’t I notice that you smelled like him? Holy fuck!” he jumps up, kicking a pillow across the room, “I’m so angry at myself. I should have noticed!”

“Don’t blame yourself please. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes it was. I failed you”, he says, pointing at you with his finger, “I’m going to kill him. I’m serious princess, I’ll goddamn torture him for what he did to you. I fucking promise you that much, this is not going to go unpunished.”

“Please think about that first.”

“Why should I?”

“Think of Taehyung.”

“Fuck. This. Brat”, Yoongi hisses, “he should still be rotting in his cell. Stupid bastard, I never should have released him.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Give me a goddamn break. I’m tired of this spoiled bastard always fucking everything up and toying with your life. Where was he when it happened? You went out together and yet he didn’t even bother to check when you were gone for a while? Or afterwards when you came back from the toilet? What did he do?”

“I can’t remember. I was pretty drunk”, you lie because you don’t want to upset him with the truth. That Taehyung was happy you had sex with Jimin and that he looked forward to the threesomes you would be having from now on.

“Nothing. Of course. Your lie was proof enough. He did nothing. Fuck!” he almost yelled the last word, gripping a candleholder to throw it against the wall.

“Yoongi please stop”, you prevent it from happening, “you’re scaring me when you’re like this.”

Yoongi lowers his arm, studying your face. Regret fills his eyes instantly.

“Princess”, he says in a soft voice, dropping the candleholder on the floor mindlessly to instead hurry back to you. He cups your face, tugging you to your feet this way, “don’t be scared please. I won’t ever hurt you”, he says, running his thumbs over your cheek before leaning in to kiss them, “I won’t hurt you, do you hear me?”

“I know that. I’m not scared for myself, I’m scared that you’ll end up hurting yourself.”

He shakes his head, “don’t worry about that. I can’t hurt myself.”

“Well then I’m scared for the candleholder”, you joke in an attempt to lighten the mood.

It works. Yoongi lets out an amused scoff, eyes softening.

“Fuck the candleholder”, he says, painting a faint smile to your lips.

“Fine, fuck it”, you say, combing his messy bangs out of his face.

Yoongi inhales deeply and squeezes his eyes shut, wrapping his fingers around your wrist just to hold something. Only then he exhales, doing so terribly shakily. He does so multiple times, calming himself down this way.

“Goddamn it princess”, he presses out, “why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was scared that you would kill him without thinking.”

“I don’t do that, princess. You know that I don’t. When you tell me to, I hold back. You know that much by now”, he is slightly whining his words, widening his eyes in an almost childlike sulky manner.

“Are you angry at me now?”

“No, of course not”, he shakes his head, caressing your cheeks with his tender hands, “just tell me stuff like this, please. Okay?”

You nod your head, “yeah, okay. A-and I’m sorry for telling you tonight.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want you to think that this is a scheme to get you to forgive me. It’s not that, I just didn’t want to carry yet another secret with me. And I thought that if I told you, maybe I could show you that I’m not a complete cunt. I would never drink Jimin’s blood willingly. Never ever.”

“I know that this is why you told me, don’t worry”, he reassures you.

You caress his hands, pulling them to your lips so you can kiss them.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Stop saying that, I know”, he whispers, caressing your knuckles.

“Okay I’ll try a-and I want you to know that you can still leave, I also wasn’t trying to make you stay by telling you what Jimin did. If you still need time alone, I understand.”

Yoongi shakes his head, pulling you into a hug.

“Don’t make me leave”, he murmurs into your neck, picking you up just so he can hold you that much tighter, “you’re staying with me, you silly girl.”

“Okay”, you say, wrapping your limbs around him as best as possible. You feel so relieved to have him hold you like this. It makes you feel as if not all is lost.

Yoongi presses you closer, inhaling your scent shakily.

“Fuck princess”, his voice is muffled by your neck, “you’re so fucking reckless sometimes. You’ll cost me my last nerves one day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hush, you idiot. Just let me hold you.”

You chuckle softly, “okay, I’ll shut up now. You smell really good.”

“You too.”

Click.

The door opens. Jungkook steps into the room.

“See? It worked”, he says, calling both of your attention.

Yoongi lifts his head, placing you down carefully. He keeps his arm around your waist, caressing it slowly.

“You little brat, come here this instant”, he says.

Jungkook follows with a boyish cackle and confident cockiness in his eyes.

“Don’t be mad at me. You know that I’m a genius.”

“You’re deserving of some spanking, that’s what you are”, Yoongi answers him, gripping him by his waist just to pull him close and land a harsh spank on his buttocks.

Jungkook squeaks, falling against Yoongi with widened eyes and his butt chasing his hand.

Yoongi spanks him a second time and then goes to grab his chin harshly, squishing his cheeks in the process.

“Don’t think that I’m done with you. I’m letting you off tonight because I’m feeling gracious, but you little brat will get your punishment”, he says in a dark voice.

“Okay. Good”, Jungkook whispers, gazing at Yoongi with his knees feeling like puddy.

“Now come here, you two”, Yoongi says, picking you and Jungkook up to carry you to the mattress.

He throws the two of you on top of it and drops down himself right between your bodies. Face buried in the pillows and arms snug around your waists, he lays completely still.

“Uhm hyung?” Jungkook asks, trying and failing to wiggle into another position.

“Stay”, Yoongi orders him, “I need a distraction. I’ll kill shit otherwise.”

“I’m fine with that”, you say, snuggling closer to Yoongi. You begin playing with his hair, doing so slowly.

“Me too”, Jungkook agrees, placing his hand on Yoongi’s back to draw patterns on it.

Yoongi exhales shakily, muscles in his arms tensing.

“What are you guys doing to me?” his voice is muffled by the pillows.

Jungkook nuzzles closer to him, “what do you mean?” he asks, running his fingers up and down Yoongi’s spine and forcing shivers over his body.

“You guys are going to ruin me. I’ve never been that stressed in my entire life.”

You chuckle, Jungkook does too. Yoongi turns his head to the side, sending you a look.

“Don’t laugh at me. I’m really fucking upset.”

“Wait. Really?” you gasp.

Yoongi nods his head.

“Noo Yoongi Boongie, I’m sorry for laughing”, you say, cupping his cheek, “we’re here now, don’t worry.”

“I just wanna kill him”, Yoongi confesses, looking at you with big, pleading eyes, “he hurt my ___. Everything inside me tells me to go downstairs and rip him to shreds.”

“I know, but please don’t do this. I know you don’t want to hear that, but I don’t want Tae to lose his best friend again.”

“Why not? He’s nothing but a cunt. Taehyung’s better off without him.”

“You’ve seen how he was when Jimin was dead. Tae’s not better off without him.”

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re protecting someone like Jimin”, Yoongi murmurs and turns his head away, looking at Jungkook that way.

“Hey, my love”, you whisper, running your fingers through his hair, “I’m not protecting him, I just don’t want Tae to grieve again.”

Yoongi stays silent.

“Do you understand my reasoning?” you ask him, “mhm?”

He huffs out air, but shivers when you massage his scalp right where it feels the best.

“Yoongi?”

“Don’t ignore her”, Jungkook says, “please you guys just made up, you can’t fight again.”

“I’m not fighting, I’m thinking”, Yoongi grumbles, now turning away from Jungkook to look back at you. He frowns, but slowly relaxes his features as you begin massaging his temple and forehead.

“I won’t kill him. For now.”

“That’s enough for me. Thank you so much, my love.”

“For now”, Yoongi insists, furrowing his brows, “if he acts up again and hurts you, I won’t hold back anymore.”

“I know, thank you for listening.”

“Tch, whatever”, he murmurs shyly, turning his head back to Jungkook. He runs his eyes up and down Jungkook’s features. Like this they are a good hand’s width apart, cheeks squished on the pillow and eyes locking after a second.

“Since when are you such a punk?” he asks Jungkook, making him giggle.

“I’ve learned from you, hyung”, Jungkook says, “remember when you made ___ and I meet in the gym so we could talk it out?”

“I never did something like this. I don’t know what you’re saying”, Yoongi lies.

“Well, I got inspired by that”, Jungkook snickers, “I think it went really well.”

“Tch, punk”, Yoongi murmurs, rolling over so he was resting on his back. He folds his hands on his tummy, eyes glued to the ceiling.

“No, but aren’t you glad that you guys are talking again?” Jungkook insists, snuggling closer to Yoongi until his face was hidden in the crook of his neck.

“I am”, you say, touching Yoongi’s temple just to tug a strand of hair behind his ear.

Yoongi shifts his eyes to you, reaching up to trace your cheek as softly as possible.

“Me too”, he breathes, running his thumb over your lips. He pulls back, touching his own lips while his eyes soften in fondness.

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, shimmying closer and snuggling into him. You kiss his lips. Hesitantly and carefully. Just once and then you already pull back, gazing into his eyes.

“Mhm”, he lets out, lowering his eyes shyly. He rolls to his side so his back was facing you. He wiggles into a comfortable position, sticking his butt out this way. Then he looks over his shoulder, frowning at you shyly.

You understand instantly, closing the distance between you and him. He lifts his head so you could sneak your arm under it and then presses back into you. With a harsh tug on your arm, he makes you fall against him. Your face naturally nuzzles into his neck.

“Is that comfy, my love?” you whisper, holding his hand tightly.

“Kiss my neck.”

“Okay, okay”, you say and begin placing tender kisses on his skin. “like this?”

“Ye, is nice”, he murmurs and cuddles closer.

“Then I’ll keep doing that”, you say, whispering your next words, “lean on me, my love. I'm right here and I won’t let go.”

Yoongi huffs out air loudly before those huffs of air turn into quiet purrs and soon you can hear Jungkook match his frequency.

You sneak a glance past Yoongi’s head at Jungkook. He has his eyes closed, hand having come to a standstill on Yoongi’s lower waist. Only his fingers trying to sneak under his shirt lets you know that he wasn’t completely lost in sleep yet.

You hide your face back in Yoongi’s neck, closing your eyes.

Tonight won’t be a terrible night. There may still be a lot to fix and issues to take care of, but at least for tonight you have Yoongi to hold and that is enough.

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piratefishmama · 1 year

Note

14!

Writing Prompts | No longer accepting new prompts

“Excuse me?” Steve, who’d been quietly minding his own business in the corner with his frankly pathetic little lunch, was absolutely certain he’d misheard the boy.

“I said, I know you’re the president of the Anti-Social Club, but why don’t you join me?” Nope, definitely didn’t mishear him.

“I’m not the president of the antisocial club, what the hell dude?”

“Could’a fooled me, man! All on your lonesome over here… I know camp ain’t exactly the best place in the world if all your friends are off on… I dunno, ski trips in the Alps or some shit while you’re stuck here, but… you don’t have to be on your own, y’know?” Steve regarded the other boy with narrowed eyes.

He knew this boy.

Year above him at Hawkins Middle, hadn’t been there for very long, maybe a year or so, the buzzcut he’d had that first year was starting to grow out into little dark curls. Still looked like he could do with a proper meal though. Munford? No. Monsoon? Pfft what? That’d be too cool a name, Minsun? Nooo… Munson!! “I don’t need your pity, Munson, m’fine…” Munson raised his brows in surprise, not at the idea that he was fine, probably that he knew his last name. “So what if my friends aren’t here, I’m still fine…” His parents were spending the first few weeks of the school summer holidays in California, back-to-back business meetings for some big merger his fathers firm was going through, his mother working alongside his father as one of the key lawyers on the project. “M’not anti-social”

No holiday for Steve, at least not yet. He’d have a few weeks of summer camp at some random little dump in the middle of the woods, and then they’d be back to pick him up for a real holiday, he was sure they’d be back. He only had to suffer another couple of weeks on his own. No big deal.

“Uh-huh… see, I’d believe you, I really would, cause normally you’re surrounded by your little hoard of groupies, but… you’ve been here for like, a week now? And not one friend made! Even Robin tried to talk to you, you blew her off! That was super rude, man, she’s great.” Bit young, bit hyperactive, but she kicked ass on the trumpet.

“…Who’s Robin?”

“Sweet cheesus on toast, okay. Uh… see that girl over there, long brown-ish hair? Band-aid on her knee? That’s Robin. She tried to ask you what your favourite bug was the other day, and you just ignored her.”

He honestly hadn’t heard her, his hearing had never been the best but… what kind of question was that? “Who has a favourite bug?”

“Robin does, it’s a ladybeetle.” Robin had once followed up with the seemingly automatic follow-on comment ‘cause ladies are great’ before realising she’d said too much and froze. She’d only relaxed when nobody had questioned it. Only relaxed when Eddie had swiftly moved the conversation on to what everyone’s favourite leaf shape was.

His was a maple leaf. Cause how did leaves just do shapes like that? Most were rounded with only one main ‘point’, and then you have a big ol maple leaf just HI THERE I LOOK LIKE I BELONG ON A DRUID’S STAFF AND NOWHERE ELSE. Like it could be the base of a coat of arms for a great forest dwelling elven family, or the shape of a forest dragons footprint.

That inevitably went on to the kids designing cool forest dragons and everything was right with the world.

“I think you mean ladybug.”

“Do I?” Munson smiled at him, as if he knew something Steve didn’t, it irritated him a little, how easily this kid seemed to talk down to him. Nobody talked down to him besides the adults, and they were adults so… he had to take that.

“Shut up, go away. I don’t care about dumb bugs” The smile dropped, replaced with something that else that Steve didn’t think he liked, a flash of sadness, no… no, that expression didn’t look right on Munson’s face and Steve didn’t know why.

The dimpled smile suited him more.

“Okay well… if you do feel like abdicating your position of president of the antisocial club, then… y’know… we’re all over there, plotting out our attack on the end of camp scavenger hunt. You’d be welcome to join us.” Scavenger hunt? Steve figured his face probably gave away some kind of interest, because Munson lingered just a little longer, instead of retreating back to his little gaggle of nerds “You… you’ve never been here before, so uhm… I suppose you probably wouldn’t know, every year, at the end of summer camp, the counsellors put on this massive scavenger hunt, it spans the whole camp grounds and a little ways into the forest too, but the prize is different every year, and you get a cool trophy if your team wins… you could be on our team, if you wanted?”

“…I won’t be here for long enough, parents are picking me up before the end of camp.” Why did that sound fun though? Why did his voice sound disappointed? He wanted out of that stupid camp! Everything was dirty, and smelly, and he didn’t know anyone, it was boring but the one cool thing he’d heard about, he wouldn’t even be there to join.

“Oh… well… you could still help us plan right? We can do a run of the areas, find any potential hiding spots, it could be fun! Way more fun than hiding out here picking at grass!”

He could. He could have, could have gotten up from his spot and joined the little gaggle of nerds for their nerd games, he’d have been the weird one in a group for once, but… they probably wouldn’t have held it against him, he could have played with them but… what was the point?

“No, I’m okay. I’ll pass.” Munson hesitated again, chewing his bottom lip in thought, before nodding and taking a step backwards.

“Okay, well… if you change your mind, man… being president of one is kinda like a president of none, an you could be my co-president in Team ‘Scoob’ which… y’know… it’s a huge honour! But if you’re sure…” Scoob? Probably Scooby Doo, Steve’s brain supplied.

“…Co-president?”

“Yepperoo, you’re welcome to coooomeee~ You can be the Fred to my Daphne!” Steve raised a brow in curiosity “y’know, cause… I’m growing my hair out and you’re—y’know” Eddie motioned to all of him, he didn’t know.

But it made him feel a little warm to think about it.

He really could go with him… Munson wasn’t just giving up on him, wasn’t just letting him be by himself, was giving him an opportunity to make friends and well… even if he wasn’t going to be there until the end… he could do with some friends to make the time pass quicker. “…Ugh, fine. But if it’s boring then I’m ditching you! Help me up.”

“Haha! Fine, fine, Mr President! Nothing but fun times to be had!! C’mon I’ll introduce you to everyone! My names Eddie by the way, not Munson.” Eddies hand was warm as it wrapped around his, his pull gentle but enough to get Steve onto his feet.

“Steve… not president.”

‘Eddie’ snorted a laugh, following with “I know Stevie” Stevie… he liked Stevie “you’re like, famous in school” as he walked him back to the group. Not having let go of his hand.

So at least when his parents sent word two weeks later that actually, they’d be staying in California due to some mix-up with the merger that was taking far longer than anticipated, at least when he’d been told he’d be staying for the entirety of camp, he had… friends.

He had people.

He had Robin, who rambled about bugs, and stars and—and anything really, the girl honestly couldn’t stop herself from rambling sometimes, it was cute, even if a little annoying sometimes.

He had Eddie who hugged him when he’d caught him silently shedding tears in the camp cabin because he’d known they wouldn’t be there he just hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, then promptly revealed a ferret called Samwise that he’d been hiding god only knows where for a whole three weeks.

Eddie, who didn’t give up on befriending him, who held his hand more often than not, who partnered with him on little arts and crafts group projects and silly team exercises, who made him feel all weird inside in a way Steve didn’t understand but he liked enough to feel excitement over what it could be. He'd always have the little kiss on the cheek Eddie had nervously given him behind their cabin the night before their last day after mumbling a soft little prayer to some unknown god called 'Ozzy' that he was reading the signs right. He was.

Steve would always have that summer and everything that came with it.

And, of course, he'd always have shared custody of their little winners trophy, because in what universe could anyone beat Team Scoob in a scavenger hunt?

#PirateWrites #Dont ask me what universe this is set in #i just wanted to write them at camp #shhh #Steddie

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wisteria-cherry · 9 months

Text

forty days and forty nights (day twenty-eight!)

(welcome back from the hiatus :) i got a lot done!)

you were bored.

nothing had happened the entire shift, with the exception of one guy dressed head-to-toe on black looking through the window of the cafe for forty minutes straight. you went out to ask him what he was doing, but he left before you could. you figured it was mia’s boyfriend. mia was your american coworker who would not stop talking about her boyfriend, but you thought he sounded kind of weird. of course, you weren’t one to judge now, because you had a crush on the number one hero, who was famously abrasive and, frankly, bitchy. you had yet to find a way to argue that there was more to him that didn’t make you sound like a lovesick teenager with a celebrity crush. you might as well have been. so, when katsuki finally came in, you were very relieved.

“thank god.” you exhale.

“what, you excited to see me or some shit?” katsuki snorted. “loser.”

“oh! no, no, it’s just that—“ you pause at your wording. “i didn’t mean that i’m not excited to see you, it’s just— i mean i’m not excited excited! just regular excited, because—“ you decide to stop before you dug your grave any deeper.

“sorry.” you take a breath. “medium black coffee?”

“yeah.”

“okay. i’m sorry.”

“you already apologized, dumbass.”

“ok. sorry.”

“quit that.”

“ok.”

you were quiet as you gave katsuki his coffee. he frowned as you did.

“the hell’s up with you?” katsuki asked bluntly.

“what?” you blink, startled by the sudden question.

“you heard me.” katsuki glared. “you’ve been acting awkward as hell. it’s weird. so what’s with you?”

“wh..” you stammer. “nothing. nothing’s with me.”

“that’s a damn lie.” katsuki hissed, red eyes boring into yours. “don’t fuckin’ lie to me.” you falter under his glare. he seemed genuinely pissed. you sigh.

“i’m sorry. i’ve just been— figuring some stuff out.” you say, trying to be careful with your words. katsuki’s annoyingly perfect brow furrowed. he looked like there was something he wanted to say, but he didn’t say it. “i’m sorry. i’m not trying to be awkward.”

“quit apologizin’.” katsuki grumbled. “‘s stupid.”

“i’d say sorry, but..” you raise an eyebrow.

“whatever.” he tched. “just shut up.”

“okay.”

“… and don’t apologize for going through shit. that’s fuckin’ stupid too.” katsuki looked away, but you looked right at him, startled.

“was that— was that comfort?” you ask slowly, the corners of your lips threatening to twitch into a smile.

“shut up!” katsuki barked. “like hell it was!”

“thanks, katsuki.” you smile. “i appreciate it.” katsuki only scoffed.

“whatever.” he grumbled.

“i’ll try to act normal.” you promise. “i’ll be okay. promise.”

“y’know you’re s’posed to talk to people about shit you’re going through.” he muttered. “i don’t care who it is. but shitty hair’s good with that shit, so is pinky.”

“thank you.” you smile gently. “i appreciate it, katsuki. but for now, how was patrol?”

“fine.”

"did... anything happen?" you ask hesitantly. what if he was mad at you? was it okay to be making small talk like this when he was mad at you? he had a sour expression on his face. of course, he always had a sour expression on his face, so maybe it was because of something different. katsuki shrugged.

“not really. not a single damn villain.” he grumbled.

“you must’ve been bored.” you laugh lightly.

“no shit. but it’s good, i guess.” katsuki drank his coffee. “that there aren’t a lot of villains today.”

“for the civilians, right.” you agree, slightly embarrassed that your first reaction to a lack of villains was boredom rather than gratitude. you sigh.

how were you going to do this?

“that’s a damn lie.”

(feel free to comment + give ur thoughts!)

(welcome back from the hiatus :) to help myself with the workload, i’ve edited the updating schedule. it’s now mondays and thursdays.)

tags: @k0z3me @cherryblossomclarity @jazzafaye5294 @stevenknightmarc @failingstudents-blog

#bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bakugou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #mha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo oneshot #coffee shop au #pro hero bakugo x reader

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underfaller · 11 months

Text

Chapter 9: θ

Pairing: dottore x angel!reader Summary: You are a Heavenly Messenger from Celestia that’s been captured by a mysterious Doctor CW: medical gore Word count: 2.7k

The Great Il Dottore has much better things to do than mentor his assistant.

Yet here he is, guiding your trembling hands as he shows you how to properly hold a scalpel. Dottore gestures towards the cadaver on the table as he teaches. It isn’t as if he’s doing this solely out of kindness; part of Dottore’s desire to teach you is so he doesn’t have to prepare subjects and other menial prepwork.

Still, Dottore can’t completely understand why he agreed to this extra--frankly trivial--work. Perhaps it was that fiery determination you showed yesterday that even he couldn’t ignore. Or perhaps Dottore really did enjoy hearing himself talk as he prattles on to you. He’d always likened himself to an exemplary tutor since his Akademiya days.

Or perhaps, Columbina is right-- he is going soft.

Dottore doesn’t think so. He is that same unshakable, ruthless man he was when he first joined the Fatui. Maybe even more so. Which is why he didn’t like the Third saying such things. It was nonsensical even for her.. Yet, it still sowed seeds of doubt in his mind that he quickly uprooted. It was simply more foolishness the Doctor would rather not waste mental energy on.

You two certainly aren’t on amicable terms, either. He still dislikes you very much and is very obvious about it. You’re weak, insufferable vermin heralding from the very gods he despises and curses with every breath. It makes sense for him to hate you. What doesn’t make sense is why you interest him so much. He would not tolerate such weakness in others-- yet he can’t help but revel in it when it’s you . No matter how many times he tries, Dottore can’t absolutely disregard you. You’re like a worm in his brain-- a parasite he has no way of extracting. That is why Dottore couldn’t--no, he wouldn’t-- let you go just yet. You insult and fight him, yet beg for your life in the same breath. You’re so obedient yet unruly.

So obviously self loathing, yet arrogant to a fault.

You are the very meaning of illogical-- a contradictory mess of an individual.

You are an enigma that only Dottore himself thought worthy of solving. He didn’t see you as a person but rather a puzzle or problem to decipher. You are his to be dissected and to break and mold into whatever he wants.

As he observes you, your words ring in Dottore’s mind.

No matter the cost.

Dottore silently laughs. Your words are the exact same as his own from long, long ago. The same words that put him on such a bloody, tenacious yet erudite path.

Is that why? Why he is so fascinated with you?

He reasons it may be because you remind Dottore of himself in his younger days. That determination, that unruly mouth, that thirst for knowledge that you are so willing to sacrifice even your sanity for-- you are an almost spitting image of him.

Dottore didn’t know if he should hate you more for that.

He did know, however, that he wouldn’t accept that. You are Celestial scum. For someone of the gods to be such a reflection of him-- it is much too disgusting to swallow.

So, despite his distaste for the illogical, Dottore did the most illogical thing by intentionally defying such a blatant fact.

“Come now. This one isn’t alive at least.”

You sigh at his admonishment. “It’s still difficult.”

“What’s a better educational tool for learning about mortals than a mortal itself?” Dottore responds, before grinning slyly. “Unless this is too difficult for you.”

You glare at him.

He is used to that. He finds it entertaining to anger you, especially with your short temper.

“It’s not. It actually seems quite simple,” You shoot back before furrowing your brow. “But does it have to be corpses? Albeit better than living subjects… Isn’t it a bit wrong to desecrate the deceased like this? Do you not have any morals?”

“I think you can deduce the answer to such a question,” Dottore laughs. “Besides, the gods see mortals as nothing but playthings. I am simply following their example.”

“Do you liken yourself to a god?”

“Better than one, my darling.”

“Tch.”

You shake your head but don’t argue further. Instead, you grip the blade in your hand even tighter, grimacing as you slice the thin lines Dottore has carefully marked on this subject. He notices your obvious disgust and tension and smirks. It’s obvious the gusto you had before starting was a front.

How far would you truly go for knowledge? How long would it be till you wanted to quit?

He didn’t plan to let you give up so easily when the time came.

“You know you are quite good at this. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

His words are mocking but there is a fragment of sincerity in them. Despite your trembling, you manage to cut through the subject precisely and surprisingly accurately. It’s certainly better than what he expected.

Though, from his experience, you’ve always been good with a knife-- especially when it was aimed at him.

Dottore cocks his head, peering at your stricken face. Were you going to cry once more? He hopes not-- it would be inconvenient to the task at hand.

“Only that one time…” Your words drift as you avert your eyes.

Were you still upset? He barely even remembered your mishap. Why would someone not even human care for such fleeting lives?

“Hmm…That’s correct. See? You’ve already improved so much. Though, this is a much more controlled experiment and well, you don’t have to worry about killing this one.”

Dottore pats your head, playfully. He can see your jaw clench in annoyance as you continue your work. When you finish, he takes the scalpel from you.

“I’ll take it from here. You can watch beside me.”

You nod.

Dottore is eager to start. Observing such work is simply unsatisfying for him. He’s always been a more hands-on person. He is not against hard work when it’s worth his time. He enjoys the dirtiness, the grime, the viscerality of his work. Most would be at least a bit squeamish at the things he did, but Dottore is not like most. No, this does not make him squeamish.

On the contrary, it makes him feel alive.

Dottore unravels a section of the subject’s small intestine, pulling it out of its crevice before cleanly slicing it open. The noise of him digging through squelching insides and the occasional clink of metal fills the quiet lab. Periodically, he glances at you. You observe him quietly, intermittently writing notes. You certainly aren’t a talkative individual-- at least when there was no conversation to be made. It’s one of your better qualities, for sure.

He soon notices you wince as he continues his work. Dottore raises an eyebrow.

“What is it now?”

“Nothing… the smell is just…”

“It’s the formaldehyde, not the subject itself.”

“I can’t stand it still. It doesn’t erase the scent of death,” You mutter.

“Well, it is what keeps these subjects from rotting. That would smell much worse, no?”

“True.”

Dottore turns back to the table, muttering aloud.

"Subject 11. Cause of death was an oversaturation of Archon Residue. Discoloration in digestive organs as well as internal, thermal burns."

He carefully uses the tweezers between his slender fingers, plucking the semi iridescent beads from the intestinal lining. Dottore drops them into a small glass vial, each one clinking softly as they fall.

"What is that?"

"Archon Residue. When consumed orally, it seems to be fatal to humans. It reverted back to its crystallized form instead of digesting properly, see?"

He beckons you to come closer. You look at the subject's split organ with an emotionless face. Dottore sighs.

"We'll need a lot more according to the journal. I regret using such a valuable resource on such frivolous experiments. But alas, what's done is done."

"Where will you get more?" You tilt your head curiously.

"That's the million Mora question, isn't it?" Dottore says. "I have some ideas. Don't you worry your pretty little head."

"I'm not worrying."

"Hmph. Alright, little birdie."

As Dottore finishes extracting the Archon Residue, he raises an eyebrow, pausing for a moment. He doesn't have to turn towards you to know your face is wrought with disapproval.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who wants to learn. This is how I teach. Besides, you can’t possibly learn everything from books like you’re used to. It simply isn’t practical,” Dottore remarks.

“It certainly is safer," You mutter quietly.

Dottore scoffs at that. He’s certainly heard that before.

“Pfft. Safety stunts discovery. True scholars aren’t afraid to take risks.”

"... I suppose."

You had so much to learn.

“You really should try to be tidier, Doctor. Perhaps then, you would be able to find things easier.”

“My dear, you aren’t here to lecture me on my domestic habits. Now get back to work.”

You huff, continuing to sweep the study’s dusty floorboards. Dottore tasked you with cleaning his office. You initially thought that such a task could be completed in an hour, but you’ve once again underestimated how messy the Doctor is.

It’s no wonder he’s constantly misplacing things. You think, exasperated as you sweep heaping mounds of dust, bits of paper, and other pieces of trash into a dustpan.

Dottore explains it’s because he’s much too busy. He has much more intellectual matters on his mind to do something as mundane as cleaning. You know it's a lazy excuse for his incompetence. Despite his ingenuity, Dottore is absolutely dismal at anything domestic. You’re starting to wonder how he’s survived this long.

Despite your annoyance in this moment, you can’t complain too much. Dottore’s kept his word, teaching you quite a bit of mortals and the world you’re now stuck in. You grimace at his grisly methods but you greedily absorb the knowledge he gives you. You forgot how invested you initially were in mortals, how much you loved discovering new things, how eager you were to learn. It pains you a bit to admit that the Doctor is actually quite a good teacher.

It makes you almost excited to see him every day. Almost.

Of course, Dottore still tasks you with busy work on top of your translating and his Khaenri'ahn lessons, but you enjoyed learning of this realm enough to overlook everything else.

Since your outburst, Dottore has been treating you slightly differently. You can’t quite pin what it is, but something certainly has changed since that day. The Doctor is much more open to your questions, much more generous when it comes to information. You know Dottore still doesn’t respect you in the slightest, but he tolerates you more, at least. You can say the same about him… for the most part.

You aren’t friends, but your relationship has definitely progressed from a mad scientist and his lab rat.

As you clean, your eyes linger on an open letter laying haphazardly on his desk. It’s addressed to the First Harbinger. Your interest peaks.

“Doctor, may I ask you something?”

Dottore doesn’t reply. He’s sitting at his desk, feet propped on his desk as he reads over the notes he wrote for their experiment earlier that day.

“What are the Fatui Harbingers exactly?”

At first you think he’ll continue to ignore you, but to your mild surprise, Dottore answers.

“We’re the executive heads of the Fatui. Being the most capable and powerful, we’ve been given absolute authority over all manners domestically and overseas. In Snezhnaya, we are judge, jury, and executioner since the Tsaritsa is all but absent in her country’s affairs.”

The Tsaritsa. You haven’t heard that name since you left Celestia. You know little of the Cryo Archon, only that she is obviously not a favorite of the Light Realm considering how Celestia wanted to give her such a threatening message. You’ve long resigned the belief that you’ll pass it to the god.

After all, I am no longer a Heavenly Messenger.

Not in Celestia’s nor my eyes.

You shouldn't feel relieved of such a fact, but part of you did. You've been in so much emotional turmoil over Celestia's abandonment. The emptiness you now feel towards your creators is a cold acceptance of the facts. It was better than trying to fight what is already over.

Perhaps the work Dottore gives you is for the best. You’ve noticed that throwing yourself into your tasks distracts you from overthinking. The only way to push away your doubts and ill thoughts is to busy yourself with other things. You would not fall apart, not after your revelation of Celestia.

No, you need to keep it together, even if the glue is spite.

Besides, I have other things to focus on now.

You press the Doctor further, letting your curiosity distract you from your task at hand.

“So there are more of you?”

“Unfortunately so. It was much better when it was only Pierro and I. Four's a crowd.”

“Four?”

“You’ve met Columbina. She is a third rate Harbinger but a first rate annoyance. Bothersome little pest. I avoid her as much as possible,” Dottore continues reading as he speaks. “Then there is La Signora, the Fair Lady. As pretentious as her name. Though, she is more manageable in conversation than The Damslette.”

Dottore frowns, shaking his head in disdain as he thinks of his colleagues.

“Pierro is the only sensible one of the bunch. It’s no wonder he’s the Director. Straight to the point and focused on his goals. I can respect that.”

Dottore looks up, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Now, can you please be quiet? Less questions, more cleaning, little birdie.”

“Fine, fine.”

You continue to clean in silence, occasionally glancing at the Doctor immersed in his work. The stillness of the room is eerie, yet a bit calming. It is these quiet moments that hold some sort of sane normalcy in your life.

Though you never know if this is truly peace or simply the calm before a storm.

You wipe the sweat from your brow. You’re almost done. As you get to work organizing the very, very messy bookshelf behind Dottore’s desk, you can’t help but notice their titles. The Folio of Foliage, Gray’s Anatomy, Elemental Energy in Correlation With Eleazar … You delicately pull the third book from the shelf, flipping through it. It’s old and very well-read, barely kept together by its binding. Your fingers rests on the title page. Oddly, the author’s name is scratched out, scribbled furiously over with black ink. You try to make out the letters as best you can.

Za….

A page falls out of the book and you quickly pick it up. At first, you’re frightened that the book is actually falling apart but fortunately, this page doesn’t seem to be a part of this particular book. Instead, it seems to be part of an article for a place called the Sumeru Akademiya, particularly the School of Spantamad. You look at the faded picture of the grand university against a background of lush trees. It looks beautiful. If things had gone differently in your life, perhaps you’d want to travel there one day.

You finish putting the books in order, exhaling with relief as you look around. The office is now immaculate-- a stark difference from what it was this morning. You can only hope Dottore doesn’t mess it up anytime soon… though you don’t have much confidence in that.

You turn once more to the bookshelf. It may not be what you usually read, but you truly did miss the feeling of a book in your hands. It wasn’t as if you were completely disinterested in their subjects either; you want to know what these mortal authors have to say about their world.

Hence, you can[‘t help but ask one final question.

“Doctor, can I borrow some of these? To read, I mean.”

“I don’t know, can you?”

You take a sharp inhale through your nostrils. You're lucky your back is turned so he doesn't see you roll your eyes.

Why is he like this?

“Alright. May I? ”

Dottore dismissively waves his hand.

“Fine.”

His mind is obviously elsewhere when he answers, but you take it as a definite yes. You eagerly look through the shelf once more, taking a few copies that spark your interest.

“Just don’t ruin them.”

You flip through one of the books you picked. Dozens of pages are dog tagged. Some portions are highlighted, while unreadable scribbles hide any sort of margins. Towards the middle of the book, a full page is ripped out. You raise an eyebrow.

“Noted.”

Past chapters here

#fic: dead doves do not mourn #dottore #il dottore #dottore fanfic #dottore x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #cross posted on ao3

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