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#is that going to be a permanent thing in my game from now on

utilitycaster · 2 days

Note

Apologies, but can you elaborate on what you meant with

"As of late, the banner of those wronged by the gods has shifted from any of Bells Hells to those of Aeor, and that is a bad sign in a D&D campaign. If you need to set aside the PCs in order to rely on NPCs who have not shown up in the current narrative? You are clinging to a melting iceberg, my man."

Sure, so...among the people who are advocating that the Only Good And True Solution is for Bells Hells to kill the gods (a position that has already required frantic backpedaling from "what if the Vanguard is good" due to the murders), the poster children for "those wronged by the gods" are now "the people of Aeor."

Now. I do not deny that the gods destroyed Aeor. I think if you are holding the gods to the standard of "They should have prevented Calamity", and the two things they've banded together about have specifically been "stop Predathos" and "destroy Aeor" and Aeorians were creating a god-killing weapon the plans of which are being used now in the Predathos plot, I think it's worth considering whether you believe that self-defense is inherently unjust if your reason is "but i really wanna fucking kill them" but that's a whole other discussion.

The point at hand is that as a rule, in a D&D game, the enemies of your D&D party are, uh, going to be the enemies in the story. And so:

Chetney: wronged by some random werewolf and by a dude named Drixlitch; killed by Otohan, a Vanguard general

Laudna: wronged by and killed by Delilah Briarwood; killed by Otohan, a Vanguard general

FCG: arguably, made to be an unwitting killing machine by Aeor. Sacrificed himself when the unwitting killing machine abilities took over, depriving a nearly TPK-ed party of their healer; took themself out to kill the Vanguard general (Otohan) that was going to kill all of them.

Fearne: specifically designed to be Ruidusborn by Zathuda, working with the Vanguard; Zathuda's relationship with her mother has some really worrying veiled portions re: how consensual it all was while we're at it. Killed by Otohan, a Vanguard general

Imogen: Honestly Predathos's relationship with the Ruidusborn seems rather predatory and manipulative but that's another conversation; abandoned by and generally treated like a morality pet by her mother, a Vanguard general. Otohan would have killed her too, regardless of her Ruidusborn status.

Orym: Father and husband permanently killed by Otohan, a Vanguard general. Killed by Otohan, a Vanguard general.

Ashton: nearly blown up/sent to a faraway desert and orphaned by elemental titan-worshiping parents; nearly killed by magic possessed by or committed by Jiana Hexum, who was at minimum collaborating with the Ruby Vanguard on imports.

In case you noticed, unless you hold the gods accountable for all bad things happening...none of them have been wronged by the gods. They have, at best, been ignored by the gods (which was earlier on an argument against the gods but people gave that up, on account of it being dumb as dogshit stupid). On the other hand, man, sure feels like that Ruby Vanguard did a whole bunch of killing. If you have to ask the viewers to ignore the feelings of the main PCs in favor of the [dead, can't disagree with you although uh, FCG sure did] people of Aeor*...you have, quite literally, lost the plot.

*You know what's interesting? There's people stuck in stasis bubbles in Aeor, and there's a growing number of Aeormatons, too. If the issue is "Aeor was an incalculable loss" why is your focus "we should plunder the Malleus Factorum - something that was controversial and caused massive unrest within Aeor itself even it its time - and awaken the god-eater, which had long been sealed by the time of Aeor" and not "holy shit we could seek out and interview and assist the Aeormatons and revive a bunch of Aeorians!" If your issue with the Calamity was "there was an incalculable loss of life" why is your solution "create a murder cult"? If your issue with Vasselheim is "they are hiding crucial information about Ruidus and they are colonizing small towns in central Issylra" why is your murder cult murdering all the moon researchers who also worked against Vasselheim and why are you allying with the empire that took over the entire moon and wants to do the same to Exandria? If the issue is "the gods have too much power and use the power of others" why is Predathos any different, and frankly, Ludinus looks pretty fucking fishy too.

#cr tag

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mercuriians · 3 days

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my paradise

jjk,, k. nanami x fem! reader

content info — short drabble, angst horribly and lazily disguised as fluff. <3 this fic was borne out of my own anguish upon witnessing certain spoilers. (gege hates us all)

author’s note — sorry for being mia. you guys all know how life can be. luckily i’m on break so i’ll do my best to send out at least one finished request 🙂‍↕️ i’ll fix this post’s format later, for now i hope you guys enjoy my first attempt at writing jjk.

"do you think heaven exists?"

you utter your question so softly, so innocently, in a timid whisper that seems like it barely even leaves your lips in the first place. the moonlight seeping from the window is dim, just enough to surround the room in a bleak, lazy kind of aura. nanami's just about ready to drift away into slumber—where it's dreamless and monotonous, and he simply just exists—but somehow there's a feeling that tugs at him. telling him that he should turn his body to face you, to see whether there's childlike curiosity within your eyes or quiet desolation.

so that's what he does. twisting around in the ivory bedsheets, he examines your expression with an air of diligence that probably shouldn't even be possible in the near-midnight hour. nanami ends up being a bit surprised. somehow you look calm. tranquil. like there's nothing else in the world worth focusing on but him.

but he still treads carefully, cautiously. "why do you ask, love?" nanami's voice is a bit hoarse, a little rusty from the lengthy time he's been silent.

perceptively, he sees the column of your throat move slightly as you swallow. "while i was on break earlier today, yuji asked me something," you admit. "he wanted to know how he could, in his words, 'give people a proper death' when the time came. and i guess that made me think about where we even go when we finally depart from this world. where our souls go to rest."

there's a small, intimate pause as nanami waits for you to continue.

"when we were kids, we were always told that there's a place for the good people and for the bad. obviously it's comforting to let yourself believe that it's all really that black-and-white, but i don't know." your voice trails off again. nanami doesn't know how much time passes when he sees your eyes become clouded over, like you're focused on something faraway. something distant, maybe something that wasn’t even there to begin with. "would there be some sort of paradise waiting for us when we die? would we even deserve that, kento?” you whisper.

he holds his breath.

it was exceedingly rare for you to succumb to such sentimentality. you were almost always driven with diligence, fueled by the need to stick to your schedule of early mornings, midday coffee breaks, and late shifts. in a world where curses ruthlessly threatened to enforce a strict hierarchy of chaos, he recognized the all-too-significant desire to at least maintain a reliable form of organization. especially considering the fact that you were both first-grade sorcerers. some of the very best.

but now, nanami's realizing that maybe, maybe the reason why you were always so vigilant is because there was no other option. there was no time to wallow in self-pity, to question why you both had to live in such a merciless society, to scream out in frustration and curse out every single damn thing in existence and wish that things had been at least a little bit easier.

either you accepted the cards you were dealt with, or you opted out of the game permanently.

nanami quickly wonders what that means for himself. but he shakes off the thought, shakes off the negativity that crept up on him for a split-second with the expertise that he's collected and honed over the years.

right now, his only objective revolved around you.

gently, he reaches out, touching your face with the calloused tips of his fingers. for a moment, he traces the smoothness of your skin, like a paintbrush to a canvas, before moving a loose strand of hair behind your ear. the way you look up at him with eyes just short of being teary makes his chest tighten, but he perseveres for you.

it's all for you. whether he likes it or not.

"i don't know the answer to that, and any sane person living on this planet wouldn't know either," nanami finally utters. as his words hit the empty air, he sees your pink lips curve upwards by the slightest bit. it’s like you can’t help but be amused by his trademark bluntness. even in the middle of such a bleak conversation, nanami’s glad that he can at least bring you some resemblance of joy.

“but the way i see it,” he continues, hand dipping down to find yours almost instinctively, “none of that matters.”

your brows furrow. you curl into his comforting figure. “what do you mean?”

nanami’s eyes meet yours. “i couldn’t give less of a damn about what happens after death. not when i’m here with you in this moment,” he whispers, unable to restrain himself from inching closer, closer towards your face, “and hopefully the millions after.”

his lips brush against your own. it’s tentative, even almost shy—his way of asking you if this is alright.

you seal the gap without a second thought.

nanami pulls you closer. his arms wrap around your waist, as if he was unwilling to ever let go.

the intimacy of it all is enough to make him forget that for a moment, he was lost in thought, lost in the realization that people truly were helpless to whatever happened in the afterlife. but really, above all else, he was a soldier—had been since the day he enrolled at jujutsu high. and as long as you were safe, nothing else would matter. including his own—insignificant, small, dispensable—life.

at that moment, nanami’s armor became yours instead.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x y/n #enjoy the angst #<3 #only a little bit sorry #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #nanami fanfic

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inkskinned · 4 months

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i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

#spilled ink #warm up #“why did u tag it warm up” bc i wrote it off the cuff while drinkin coffee lol #btw the 30 dollar buy in for the dog walking is bc they pay the organizer a small pittance so she can #run fb ads and stuff and like she does put in a lot of work i don't mind paying her #but that's exactly what im fucking talking about like.#ppl can't afford to volunteer their time anymore and we all understand it!!! everything costs money for everyone!#like we didn't have to use to say ''do you mind paying me back for the stuff we ate''#we used to be able to afford to feed our friends once in a while!!!

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ms-demeanor · 6 months

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I think the eight alarms thing is usually a maladaptation. You've trained your brain to ignore the eight alarms because you kept avoiding the training of willpower following the first alarm would require. I think some sleep therapy might help?

Hey so first of all fuck you, thanks.

Second: I love it when you read literature on sleep disorders, especially if it's on sleep disorders among folks with ADHD, and you see time and time again "when allowed to sleep on their preferred schedule subjects maintained healthy, normal, restorative sleep cycles" and "effects were not lasting without ongoing intervention; resetting the sleep schedule is a permanent effort."

Like, if I sleep *great* from 6am to 2pm and I wake up feeling rested and alert with no special help but I need to turn off the lights in my house and shut down all electronics at 8pm and beam a spotlight into my face starting at 5am to wake up at seven and feel exhausted all day, I think perhaps it is not actually my sleep cycle that is wrong it is perhaps society that is wrong.

BELIEVE ME, when I find the job that pays well and has decent insurance that lets me exist as a cheerful nighttime ghoul I am jumping on that with both feet. But until then I literally feel better getting six hours of sleep and occasionally sleeping so hard that i can't hear my alarms because of chronic sleep deprivation than I do turning off all the lights in my house and ceasing all activity two and a half hours after I get off of work.

Also: the eight alarms aren't all there to wake me up, it's just that sometimes I *also* sleep through the ones that are supposed to remind me to go sit at my desk and start work. One of the first three usually gets me up, but on a day when I sleep through all three of those I will be sleeping through all eight of them and usually a phone call and someone trying to shake me awake to.

ANYWAY after being treated with melatonin and light therapy and staring listlessly at the ceiling in the dark bored out of my skull with racing thoughts for sleep disorders that I didn't have for like twenty years the single most effective intervention that allowed me to get more sleep as someone with both ADHD and DSPD was to start hanging out and being active in places where it would be easy to fall asleep if the sleep caught me there instead of turning my bedroom into a dark, silent shrine of snoozing. Giving myself permission to fall asleep late instead of laying awake chewing myself up with guilt for not being asleep helped too.

Actually here's some tips for the sleepy bitches in the crowd:

1 - If you're laying down and not falling asleep in half an hour, you're not actually sleepy; read something or get up and do something because you're more likely to get sleepy faster that way than you are staring at the clock going "if I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and forty five minutes of rest when I have to go to work; If I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and twenty minutes of sleep when I have to get up, etc. etc."

2 - Allow yourself to be ambushed by sleep. Fall asleep on your cozy couch. Fall asleep in the comfy chair. Let yourself sleep where you fall asleep instead of dragging yourself to where you're 'supposed' to sleep if doing so will wake you up.

3 - The mythbusters thing. If you just lay down and close your eyes and pretend to rest you will feel more rested when you get up than when you laid down. Laying down to rest is better than nothing, it literally causes cognitive improvements similar to sleep in tests, and knowing that can help take off some of the pressure of not being able to fall asleep and can thus help you fall asleep.

4 - It's okay to "hang out" in the area where you're going to sleep. Read in bed. Play games on your cellphone in bed. If you want to go to sleep put on comfy clothes and bring a chill activity and hang out in your bed to do it so that all you have to do when you start getting sleepy is close your eyes.

5 - It's better to get some sleep than no sleep. Sometimes you look at the clock and it's six AM and whoops, fuck it. Okay, time for bed, don't stress that you're only going to get a few hours, a few hours is better than nothing. Lay down to pretend to rest at least and you'll probably feel okay.

6 - This one sounds silly and might not work for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons but apparently there's some research suggesting that "well-rested" is a state of mind? I've had a reasonable amount of success with just telling myself "Yeah, I actually feel pretty good," and pushing through the day on a couple of hours of sleep. I don't *recommend* that and you should try to get as much sleep as possible, but yeah the next time you're low on sleep see what happens if you just try to decide to not be tired. It sounded like bullshit to me when I first heard it but I've found some success with it.

7 - This shit is cumulative. If you're doing a couple nights a week on low sleep that's not ideal but you're probably going to be pretty functional and you can work on it. If you overbook and overextend yourself for too long - I'm looking at you college students and new parents - it's going to add up. Try as much as possible to at least keep your sleep deficit nights spread out. (This message brought to you by writing 60k words of fiction in october and completely frying my brain because i wasn't getting enough sleep).

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emphistic · 20 days

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Bf!Sukuna who sometimes calls you 'girlfriend' — and not in a flamboyant way

"Girlfriend, c'mere."

"What do you want, girlfriend?"

"Sure, girlfriend."

Bf!Sukuna who loves having your lips on his; he'll just randomly come up to you and slot his lips against yours without a word

Bf!Sukuna who walks around the house shirtless, and teases you by saying, "You should try it out," only to get a pillow thrown at his head

Bf!Sukuna who would pause his video game just for you

Bf!Sukuna who is actually super clingy, and cannot function without having you in a foot radius — but will never admit it

"I'm going to go get groceries now."

"I'll come with you," he said, immediately standing up from the couch.

"I thought you hated errands."

Sukuna shrugged, "'m bored."

Bf!Sukuna who spits in your food when you're not looking

Bf!Sukuna who, when he can't sleep, will just stare at you — a few times, you've woken up to his creepy crimson eyes staring back at you, and you socked him in the jaw

Bf!Sukuna who claims to hate your music, but whenever you two are in the car, he'll always let you handle the aux

Bf!Sukuna who purposely forgets to do your laundry so he can see you be forced to wear his clothes instead

Bf!Sukuna who is the king of keeping eye contact

Bf!Sukuna who'll hover around while you do your makeup and just ask random questions

"What does that do?"

"Why the fuck is it shaped like that?"

"It's almost as big as my dick."

Bf!Sukuna who steals your things and raises them above his head where you can't reach just to mess with you

Bf!Sukuna who never gets cold, and while that may seem like a good thing in the winter because you have a personal heat generator, it is the absolute worst during the summer — you have to ban cuddling because Sukuna is just too damn warm

Bf!Sukuna who doesn't help you bring in groceries, even if your hands are full

Bf!Sukuna who ignores you for the rest of the day if you forget to give him a good morning kiss, or good morning text (if you guys are temporarily apart)

Bf!Sukuna who is good at everything he touches

— a/n: kinda irrelevant if you ask me, but I just had to include this

Bf!Sukuna who pretends to forget if you guys have planned a date together

Bf!Sukuna who gets a hard-on when he sees your angry face; he loves having you pull on his ear and drag him away to a secluded area to hear you yell at him — he thinks you sound so sexy and look so hot

Bf!Sukuna who isn't above doing extreme pda when he sees someone staring at your ass

Bf!Sukuna who whines about going to work, claiming it's boring, but in reality: he just doesn't want to leave you — or vice versa: he doesn't want you to leave for work

Bf!Sukuna who swears up and down he doesn't want kids and hates children, but when he sees you taking care of his little brother Yuuji, he finds himself doing a mental 180°

Bf!Sukuna who goes into a trance staring at your ass

Bf!Sukuna who has no purpose for an Instagram account: you forced him to make one — he never posts on there, but when does, it's only pictures of you and occasionally him and you

Bf!Sukuna who has a drum set in your guys' shared apartment, but refuses to play it for anyone but you, and even then, he only plays to annoy you or wake you up from your nap

Bf!Sukuna who permanently quit smoking when he saw you plugging your nose near him

Bf!Sukuna who enjoys chasing you around the apartment, sometimes with a knife in hand just to make you extra scared

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk (pls lmk if u only want to be tagged in my boy nextdoor series or all of my work) @lillycore

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna headcanons

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uravichii · 1 month

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"best friends who kiss?"

character/s: bakugo katsuki

summary: recently, your best friend has been kissing you at random times. you have no idea why because he refuses to talk about it. either way, you're not about to let this to ruin your precious friendship.

genre & trope: fluff, best friends to lovers, angry confessions, reader is terrified of love but bakugo wants them so bad 😁, tw kind of ooc bakugo

a/n: i've been watching a lot of pride & prejudice and bridgerton scenes n i'm now obsessed angry confessions 🤩 + this is heavily inspired by that scene in little women :) ALSO i haven't posted in a year 😟 so pls be nice ik my writing's rusty in this :'D

the first time bakugou katsuki kissed you, he pretended he never did.

"what... " you brush your fingers against your bottom lip, your whole face hot. "what the hell was that for?"

"what?" bakugo shrugs, feigning innocence as he takes a swig of his soda.

you try and trace back the events that could have led to the kiss.

you said something along the lines of: "i wish i had a boyfriend. i could definitely pull a cute guy off the street."

then you heard him scoff and say: "no man's sane enough to put up with your insufferable ass." ーor something more insulting than that.

you can't remember what you said in response, and you rack your brain to figure out what prompted him to grab your face and kiss you. it's impossible when all you can think about is the unexpected supple feel of his lips, its faint ghost still lingering on yours.

"that kiss, katsuki! you violated my mouth!"

"dunno what you're talking about. you hit your head or something?"

you blink and second-guess yourself for a second.

"okay, no. you're not gonna gaslight your way out of this." you swat his arm, earning an irked glare from him. "why the hell did you kiss me?"

"you're imagining things, idiot. this stupid game's givin' ya some serious brain damage for sure."

he stands up and swings his bag over his shoulder.

"where are you going? we're not done yetー!"

and he's out of the door.

was he drunk off his soda? maybe he kissed you to mess with your head. he's not that cruel though, you think. maybe he couldn't think of any other way to shut you upー that was something he always struggled with after all.

at least the second time bakugo katsuki kissed you, he was kind enough to warn you.

after enduring the most awkward hour-long study session with him, you decide to put an end to your agony by wrapping it up. you start gathering your things when he stops you with a calloused hand on your wrist.

"what?" you turn to him, your cheeks already heating up from his touch.

there are no thoughts you could read behind those vermillion eyes, and all of a sudden, you don't know your best friend very well anymore.

he walks some tentative steps closer to you until the back of your knees hit the table. he cradles your jaw with such delicacy you didn't even know he was capable of. he slips past your awaiting lips and presses his nose on the side of your head, his warm breath kissing your flushed skin.

"punch me in the face and scram if you don't want this, got it?"

you gulp and forget to answer if not for the gentle squeeze on your wrist. "y/n, you got it?"

"s-sure."

when you two kiss, it's different from last time. it's unhurried, curious, and so intoxicating. the kiss speaks: 'i want you. i want you. i want you' but whose thoughts are these?

he groans into your lips as if to urge you to keep up with the sheer hungriness that has consumed him. you try your best to do so as he deepens the kiss with a palm on the back of your head and practically drinks you in. he doesn't pull away until he hears the tiny whine that escapes you.

"shit, sorry." he mutters, avoiding your stunned gaze.

"t's okay."

"did i hurt you?" the quiet lilt of his voice surprises you.

"no, no. i'm okay, but why'd you kiー"

"bye." he blurts out as he turns to the door and leaves, as if he didn't just invaded your mouth and permanently tainted the years of friendship you two have had. you click your tongue as the heat subsides in your cheeks.

"son of a bitch."

the third time bakugo katsuki kissed you, you let him, and he didn't stop.

you had barely escaped death when you lost your footing while sparring with todoroki. naturally, bakugo yelled the poor guy's ear off and would have murdered him if eraserhead hadn't interfered at the last second.

now, you find yourself heaving in your bed. you don't know whether your hastened pulse is from the adrenaline rush or from the fact that bakugo is all over you right now.

he's planting feather-light kisses all over youー your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, your hands, and your wrist, as panicked murmurs spill out of him in between kisses. 'you scared the hell out of me. you have no idea, fuck. are you okay? are you really okay? tell me you're okay, y/n.'

"i'm okayー" you barely manage to gasp before he dips his lips into yours, desperate and frantic. tremulous hands find solace in your hips as he holds you, gentle enough not to mar your injuries but snug enough to assure his restless heart that you are safe.

your head feels hazy. your limbs ache and lie motionless, and though your lips could barely move to reciprocate his kisses as much as you wanted to, bakugo didn't stop. you tried to ask him about it the next morning, but of course, he ignored you and walked away.

you don't know when he stopped kissing you that night. all you know is that there was a line that was crossed, and your friendship was never going to be the same again.

bakugo katsuki is going to kiss you again. your heart thrums incessantly. whether it's dread or anticipationー you don't know.

you think about the sensation of his lips that's become so familiar to you that you've learned to crave it. it shouldn't be familiar to you, and you sure as hell shouldn't want it. so you do what you think is necessary.

you kick him in the shin.

"motherfー!" sure enough, he's pissed. "what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"i was going toー"

"no! you're not gonna kiss me again and walk away and pretend it never happened. you're messing with my head, katsuki! it's not funny!"

"wasn't trying to be funny!" he barks back.

"okay, so what exactly are you trying to do? what is this? i meanー" you stammer, struggling to find the words. "katsuki, what are we?"

he sighs and shifts his stance, his discomfort apparent. when the silence lingers on for too long, you speak.

"well, whatever it is that you want from me, we're going to stay friends. nothing more, nothing less. that's it." your breath hitches, and you don't know why you feel like crying as you speak. "... so i don't want your stinky mouth anywhere on me again."

silence weighs heavily between you. sometimes you wish you didn't know him too well, then the hurt he veils in his eyes wouldn't be so plain and vivid to you, and you would have walked away by now without an ounce of remorse.

"i like you, y/n." is all he could say when he finally speaks.

you shake your head. "no, you're just confused."

"i'm not confused. i like you."

"katsuki, you've been bitchless all your life, and i'm just the closest thing to a s/o. maybe go take a walk or something."

"i like you." he persists. "i've liked your stupid ass forー"

"stop saying that. you don't."

"i do, and you like me tooー"

"what?!" you laugh incredulously.

'who does this dumbass think he is?' is he right? surely, he's not. then what are you so afraid of in the first place? why have you been counting down the days until he kisses you again? why do you yearn for his touch as if it's something you own? why do you feel so infuriated and so tormented when he leaves the room after kissing you?

you do what is necessary again.

"you're delusional!" you yell at his face, a childish shrill that's awfully familiar to your childhood best friend.

"jesus christ." he inhales sharply in frustration. "you're a fucking pussy, y/n."

you clench your jaw and match his glare. anger surges in your chest and bleeds into your voice.

"i'm not the one who chickens out after kissing their best friend! you can't even acknowledge the fact that you kissed me because you'reー!"

"do you think i want to chicken out? why do you think i run away after kissing you?! if i stayed and confessed all this shit the first time, you would've refused to hear it like the damn coward you are!" he leans close to you, his voice lowering into a ragged snarl that quickens your pulse. "and you're just proving it right now, y/n. you're always going to shut this down and deny your feelings because you're a fucking pussy. you're terrified of relationships, and it's dumbest shit ever. pathetic, really."

you rear back from his words. if anything, you always thought it was katsuki who was afraid of love. now, you can't help but feel small and vulnerable underneath his searing gaze.

"it's not dumb..." you shuffle uncomfortably. "what, i'm supposed to ruin our friendship for a relationship that we're going to break off anyway?"

"we're not going to break it off."

"how do you know that?"

"because i'll be the best goddamn boyfriend in the world!"

"first of all, gross." you scoff. "second of all, it's never gonna work out! you're going to get sick of me in three days max."

"i've known you since we were brats, and i still want you."

"you literally said no man's sane enough to put up with my obnoxious ass."

he smirks. "i said 'insufferable ass'."

"katsuki!" you fight the urge to strangle him and punch that stupid smile off his face.

"wasn't even serious that time." he grimaces and reluctantly continues. "you know damn well you can pull any guy you want, and he'd be the luckiest bastard on earth."

if it were any other day, you'd grin at him and say 'i told you so,' but your lips remain unmoved, and your eyes stay dim. you're afraid you'll never go back to being the same katsuki and y/n again.

"this is pointless, katsuki. i mean, look! we're already fighting." you grouch and tell yourself you don't want this. "i still don't want us to happen so while this friendship is still salvable, let's agree to stay friends, and whatever sappy shit you feel for meー suck it up."

in one swift motion, he closes the distance between you, his face hovering dangerously over yours.

"suck it up?" he breathes, his face taut in frustration. "restraining myself from you is the hardest shit i've ever had to do. it takes everything in me not to kiss your stupid face!"

he shudders, weakly resting his forehead against yours as if this conversation alone has exhausted him. still, he goes on.

"and everytime i failedー everytime i kissed those lips, it was... a moment of weakness, but that's the fucking problemー you're just..." he buries his face into the crook of your neck, a desperate attempt to escape your wide-eyed gaze. "i'm weak for you, y/n. every second. and it drives me fucking insane that you keep running away from me."

he rises to meet your eyes again. the cadence of his voice changes into something weak and desperate, stripped of all the pride and anger he's ever known.

"i love youー fuck. i love you." he lets the words hang in the air, letting the words hear itself spoken because for once, you're not stopping him. "i love you, so please... let me."

after much thought and another agonizing minute of silence, you lean in to kiss bakugo katsuki.

he kisses back almost instantly and revels in the way you wrap your arms around his neck and bear your weight on him completely. he kisses back ardently, his pent-up desires and years of longing etched in the way he seeks your lips, kiss after kiss after kiss.

when you finally pull away, you're met with a devilish smirk, his begging eyes long gone. you wonder to yourself when you'll see those eyes again.

"took ya long enough." he kisses you again. he raises a brow at the way you're caging him in your arms. "jesus, no one's gonna snatch me from you."

"i'm making sure you don't run away again, dumbass."

"i won't." he says earnestly as he props his forehead against yours. "and you won't either. i'll make sure of that."

you nod your head with a giddy smile as he pecks your lips again.

"so..." you say as you exaggerate a pensive look, a cheeky grin spreading across your face. "we're best friends who occasionally kiss?"

he rolls his eyes. "you're impossible."

"recite that speech again, and i'll consider calling you my boyfriend."

"fuck off!"

TAGLIST [1/2] @uxavity @joy-the-reader @kiiraes @escapenightmare @afk-dreaminq @avocamich @theboredvee @wonderwrench @ur-local-simp @p-ol @x0xuglyh0tgrl2005xoxo @cosmonettica @melin-oe @mitzi127 @lilac-o @r2katsu @bakucumsackslut @idunnomynamesince2005 @astralwaifu @taurus852 @creepyproxies @maycat-19-142 @stella-fleurets @veenxys @devilgirlcrybabiey @drawingaddict @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @lexiv-web @angelshimaa @izukus-gf @christiansdior @homosexualjohnwayne @uwiuwi @hirugummies @cupidines @loveisningning (bold couldn't be tagged)

#bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha x reader #mha x you #bakugo katsuki drabbles #bakugo drabbles #bnha drabbles #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bakugo fluff #bakugo katsuki fluff #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons

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a-aexotic · 1 year

Note

HEYYYY! So like every other mf on the planet right now I am in my hunger games era!!

Please could you write a Finnick x Reader where she is selected for the quarter quell (Maybe in her games she was lethal and killed like 10+ people?)

And when Katniss shoots the arena in catching fire she gets taken by the capitol (Like Peeta) and they torture her and shit? Then Finnick and her get there reunion she’s all like battered and bruided and it’s dead sad? Not sure if this made sense because i’m half asleep and dyselxic but let me know😭🤣

Maybe he says “It’s okay baby i got you” ??? x

hey of course i can! i hope u enjoy it babe <3 its a tiny bit long! my apologizes

cw's: angst, mentions of killing/dying, typical thg stuff, torture, ptsd, lmk if i missed anything

You were one of the youngest victors alongside Finnick, being only 15 and having won your games. You were also from District 4. You won the 68th Hunger Games, a few years after Finnick.

When you were reaped, Finnick and Mags were your mentors. Finnick came off as self absorbed and arrogant but once you started talking to him, the more you realized that was total bullshit. He wasn't how the Capitol portrayed him, he was much more caring and compassionate. He was very sympathetic to your situation, having gone through the same things.

During your time in the arena, you were one of the most ruthless tributes of all time. In the beginning, you were easily overlooked. The tributes weren't thinking that you were going to be much of a challenge because of your size and the way you carried yourself.

But that was exactly how you wanted to be portrayed. You tricked the Careers into thinking you were some naïve little girl, stabbing them in the back (literally) the first chance you got. The Capitol loved the turn of events, cheering you on.

When you had come back home, you had finally understood the intensity of what you had done. You had killed a whole group of people, ending their lives permanently. Those people had lives and family who loved them, and now they're gone because of you.

You suffered through months and months from never ending nightmares. Even getting consoled by your mother didn't help anymore; she doesn't understand. You didn't even feel worthy of food anymore.

You closed off Mags and Finnick when you had come home, driving yourself into isolation and depression. You rarely went out anymore, eating one meal a day and slept more than 80% of the day. Even sleeping couldn't mend the eternal tiredness you had, the void that filled your body.

Finnick had felt more than responsible for your pain. He gave you time before he realized he was just adding to your pain. Even when you didn't communicate back to him, Finnick visited you every day. He gave you advice and told you what he had went through after the Games as well. Eventually you opened up more to Finnick, and slowly, he had become your best friend.

He had told you that numbing it wasn't going to make it go away. He reminded you that you had him and Mags to help you with this process, and that you weren't alone despite of how you felt.

He helped you regain your sense of purpose again, your self image again. Finnick had singlehandedly helped you rebuilt your sense of self again.

He saw a part of you in him, that scared 14 year old boy who was trying to go back home to his parents. He never wanted anyone to feel that, especially you.

He promised you that he would never let anything bad ever happen to you again.

During your Victor's tour, Snow had suddenly deemed you desirable by the Capitol, wanting to sell you as he did with Finnick. Finnick couldn't risk getting involved, wanting to protect his family.

Every night in the Capitol, you were always consoled by Finnick. Every time you had to do a favor, you remember walking to Finnick's room to sleep, not baring the thought of having to sleep alone in the cold bed. He was always there, holding your hand comfortingly as you both slept.

The Capitol adored you both, nicknaming you the princess and prince of Panem. The more time you spent with Finnick, the more the media had speculated a relationship between the young victors.

You and Finnick had connected in many ways. Both having the same trauma, it was easy to talk to him and for him to understand how hard it was.

You and Finnick eventually got together a few years later, then getting married (in secret, of course) almost right after. You were both deeply in love.

Finnick found solace in the thought of always having you by his side, remembering that no one could tear you apart. That was until the Quarter Quell was announced.

You and Finnick were sitting at the edge of the couch, listening to Caesar's words carefully as he explained that this year's Hunger Games was going to be very different.

When it was announced that there will be only be Victors in this year's games, you heard dropped. You looked over at Finnick and he shared the same terrified look on his face.

When Annie's name had been called, you without any second thought, put up your hand. "I volunteer as tribute."

The crowd gasped and you looked over at Annie and you could tell she was a bit relived but still scared nonetheless. You immediately embraced her tightly, letting her let out a small sob. "It's okay, you're okay."

Mags looked just as terrified and you took her hand. When Finnick's name was called, you felt your stomach drop. Not only were you back in the arena, but you were with Finnick.

You looked over at Finnick and he looked prepared to fight. You both stood up and he grabbed your hand, raising it up in union.

The trainride to the Capitol was pretty uneventful. Finnick had wanted some time to think about the plan and so did you. A part of you knew what he was planning; he kill everyone else in the arena and then eventually himself, all for you.

As you sat on the bed, you felt the sadness and anger turn into numbness. No amount of crying was going to stop the Quater Quell and you had to be smart.

You didn't want to survive without Finnick. You were either winning with him or dying with him. Life would be meaningless without him.

Finnick knocked on your door slightly, before walking in. You looked up at him and he gave you a small smile. He took a seat next to and took your hand.

"I have a plan."

"Finnick, I know what you're thinking, and no. You're not killing yourself for me."

Finnick looked defeated. "One of us has to survive, Y/N. For Annie. For Mags."

You look a deep inhale, looking away from Finnick. "I don't want to life without you, everything would lose all it's meaning without you."

Finnick felt his heart burst into two pieces as he squeezed your hand. You felt your eyes watering again and you couldn't help but let out another quiet cry as Finnick pulled your head in, as he embraced you tightly.

"Shh, it's okay. I promise, I won't... I won't leave you."

It had all happened so fast, you couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. One moment, you were with Finnick trying to find Johanna and Katniss and suddenly there was big loud boom. You were relieved for a moment; Plutarch's plan had worked. Until you realized how far away you were from the others.

You were wandering, trying to find anyone until you heard people behind you. You turned and then you saw some unfamiliar faces; suddenly, your vision went black.

Then, you woke up in a white room. You felt like your stomach had dropped out of your body once the realization hit you; the Capitol captured you.

You were strapped down to a bed and you couldn't move or shake it off. The severity of the situation had hit you; even if by some miracle you did escape, where would you go? How would you find your way to 13 and back to Finnick?

You knew how ruthless the Capitol was to everyone who disobeyed them. Your worst fears had come true and there was no getting out of here.

You heard the door open and you saw some Peacekeepers come in and then you saw the person you dreaded to see most; Snow. You felt like your whole had come crashing down, how could this nightmare become any worse?

"Hello, Y/N."

You didn't respond, resorting to stare at the wall in front of you instead.

He tutted disappointedly. "Out of all the tributes, you were the one I expected least to be involved in this mess. You are the Princess of Panem... What a shame."

You still hadn't replied and you hadn't dared to look at Snow. Months and months you spent trying to heal the trauma he had caused you, you were sure if you had to look at him now, you would break.

"I want to take mercy on you, dear Y/N. If you tell me everything you know about the rebellion, I will make sure the Peacekeepers are gentle with you."

You shook your head. "No."

He let out a small chuckle. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you. What?"

"No." You said again, louder.

He hummed in disapproval. "Okay then, you leave me no choice. You are going to regret this."

He nodded to the Peacekeepers and walked out of the room. You were then met with Peacekeepers, loosening the straps then taking you to another room.

If Snow knew one thing about you, it was that being only physical with you wouldn't hurt you enough. He had to hit you were it hurt most.

They threw you in the seemingly vacant room and immediately locking it. You were confused until you heard it.

"Y/N, help me!" Finnick's voice screamed. "Please, help me! Get up and do something, they're killing me! Please."

You looked everywhere in the dark room, trying to find the source. It kept going.

"Y/N, please! Help! What the hell are you doing, just sitting there? You are such a disappointment!" The voice started shouting. "We should've just left you to died in the arena! You are useless!"

Now this was something new. Your body was filled with panic and fear and even though you knew it was fake, you felt like you were going to throw up from all the noise.

Suddenly, Annie's voice came in as well. Then Johanna's. Then your mother's. There was nonstop noise filled with screams for help, shouting with disapproving messages. Your body couldn't handle it; it was so overwhelmed with fear that you started shaking on the ground, putting your hands on your ears but that did little to nothing.

You wanted it to stop. It was too much, you were trembling. It felt like days, just sitting there in that room listening to all those demeaning voices of your loved ones. You couldn't even think straight anymore.

It was so bad you had started to pound your head on the ground, screaming and crying. You had have enough. And then, it all stopped. Silence was foreign for you; your ears were ringing.

You were sitting on the ground, almost lifeless as the Peacekeepers took you away. Your eyes hurt from the tears, your body sore, your ears ringing and your head was pounding.

But you knew that was just the beginning.

You were asleep in bed and you were awakened by the door opening, you instantly jolted up. You looked over to see a group of masked men in front of you and you had started to tremble again, silent tears rolling down your face, thinking that the Peacekeepers had come again.

"No, no, no." You started to mumble to yourself.

A man came up to your and took your bruised hand slowly, rubbing it gently in silent empathy. That was the first soft touch you'd felt in a few weeks and it almost stung.

"It's okay, you're safe now. You're going to 13 now."

You had to blink a couple times, trying to process what he said. Was this a dream? You went to pinch yourself but it was real life.

He then helped you up but you couldn't help but stumble; your legs were weak, you couldn't remember the last time the Peacekeepers let you walk for this long.

As you got into the hovercraft, you saw Annie. Your eyes widened as you both ran up to each other, embracing each other. She had started to cry a little bit and so did you.

That was when it hit you. You were going to see Finnick. You were going home. You started crying into Annie's shoulder as she held you. "We're safe now, we're safe."

You had seen Johanna as well but she didn't seem too responsive. Neither did Peeta. You fell asleep on Annie's shoulder on the ride back and for the first time, you actually felt yourself drifting off calmly.

There were lots of doctors and nurses looking at you and asking you all sorts of questions and you tried your best to answer them. You were still in shock; you were safe. They couldn't hurt you anymore.

"Y/N?" You turned around to see Finnick. You immediately got up from the examiner's table and ran into his arms, your eyes starting to water up again.

"Finnick," you sighed slowly. You pulled away, putting your hands on his face and touched him as if he wasn't real.

"Are you.. Are you really here?"

"Yes, I'm really here." Finnick looked at you and suddenly his voice transported you back into the dark room. You quickly twisted out of his embrace and his expression changed.

His voice was back and you heard all of the nasty things he had to you. You back away, stumbling into the examiner's table and your breathing became heavy. "No, no, no, please-please go away. No."

You slid down to the floor and you closed your eyes, putting your hands on your ears and rocking back and forth trying to get that voice to stop.

Finnick ran up to you and put his hands on your knees, trying to get you to look at him. His heart broke in half; he didn't know what the Capitol had done to you but now he knows it has something to do with him.

Of course the Capitol would try to ruin him. His eyes started to tear up at the sight of you, in so much pain and panic.

You opened your eyes, Finnick in front of you. You started to cry some more before Finnick slowly went up to you, wrapping his arms around you.

When he had started wrapping your arms around you, your instinct was to push him away but his warmth was welcoming and safe and you started to focus on his touch. The voices slowly drifted away, the sounds of your silent sobs only being heard.

You then gave into Finnick's touch, falling into him and putting your head in his chest as he caressed your back gently, shushing you.

"It's okay baby, I got you. You're safe now, they can't hurt you."

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 20 days

Text

cannot stop thinking about Niffty and Vaggie chilling out playing darts together

except it's with knives, and they're giggling, and it's with Vaggie holding her permanently got-impaled-by-heavnly-steel hand up to the dart board, and it's Charlie walking right as Niffty takes her throw

Charlie: "Hey guys! Husk is wondering if you want another round of-"

Niffty: (throws knife through charlie's gf's hand)

Charlie: "-ffffffffaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAaAAAHGHGHGHGH?!!!?!"

Vaggie: "Wooo yeaaaaahh!"

Niffty: "SCOOOOORE! Oh hi Charlie~!"

Charlie: "AArGH???"

Vagige: "Babe you gotta come check this out."

Charlie: "VAGGIE WHAT THE- what are- your HAND-!"

Vaggie: "Cool huh?"

Charlie: "C O O L ?? You've been impaled!!!"

Vaggie: "Yeah I have, that's the point."

Niffty: "the POINT... heeheeheee~"

Demon Charlie: "NiFFTy."

Niffty: (gets grabbed)

Niffty: "AHAHAHA!! I'm in danger!"

Vaggie: "Okay whoa sweetie, maybe don't toast the employee-"

Niffty: "TOAST ME- hrrk!"

Vaggie: "And don't snap her neck either!"

Charlie: "She. HURT-"

Vaggie: "She didn't hurt me. Look, see? No blood. She put the knife right through Lute's stab wound."

Charlie: "....and that's a GOOD thing???"

Vaggie: "Sure! She got a hole in one!"

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "A hole... in one..."

Charlie: (drops niffty)

Niffty: "Wheee-!" (SPLAT)

Vaggie: "Babe? Uh, Charlie..? Where're you going?"

Charlie: "Bar. I'm.... getting another round of drinks from Husk."

Vaggie: "But you haven't even asked what we want-"

Charlie: "It's not FOR you." (staggers off)

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: "...Did I just traumatize my girlfriend?"

Niffty: "Naaaah, the trauma was already there, we just POKED at it enough for her to go cry all over Husk's countertops about it."

Vaggie: "So I should probably let her do that huh."

Niffty: "Once she's done crying, THEN you can hug her!"

Vaggie: "Or I could go hug her right now..."

Niffty: "OR you could let me see if I can put a knife between each of your fingers AND get a hole in one!!"

Vaggie: "...i guess... venting to other people did help her out a lot last time..."

Niffty: "Hole! In! One!"

Vaggie: "Hole. In. One."

Niffty: "BLOOD OR GLORY!!!"

Vaggie: "TRUST AND ACCURACY!!!!"

Niffty: "AND KNIVES!!!!!!!"

-at the bar-

Charlie: "It's gooooood she's gotta close friend, y'know? It is, so grrrreaaaat that they're bonding. Throwin'... throwin' knives right through her new unhealing and eternal puncture wound....."

Husk: "Wait the fuck, they're doing what now?"

Charlie: "....another something that Lute and heaven did to her....that I wasn't there to stop from happenin'...."

Husk: "Shit."

Charlie: "An' now she's playing parlor games with it! Yay!"

Husk: "This is the least fucking 'yay' I've ever fucking seen you."

Charlie: "That's like, free therapy for her though! Right!?"

Husk: "No, but this is."

Husk: (pours drink) "Here."

Charlie: (takes bottle) "Thank- hic-s!!"

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #niffty hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #chaggie #husk hazbin hotel #incorrect quotes #problematic besties niffty and vaggie my beloveds <3 #how many times d'y'all think husk had to restock while bartending charlie through the aftermath of the hotel battle??#like at least twice right????

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barcaatthemoon · 30 days

Text

changes || mapi leon x reader ||

the natural changes in your relationship with mapi.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

mapi could tell that something was up. the locker room was a weird mix of tense and seemingly excited. there were rumors of new signees, but mapi hadn't had time to look at them. however, when she arrived at her locker to see a jersey sitting next to it with your last name on it, she realized what was going on.

"are you fucking kidding me?" mapi turned to alexia, as if the woman had personally sought you out to sign. alexia tried to ignore mapi, but the brunette's glare was too much to ignore. "her?"

"she's good, and we could use the extra help on the field with jenni leaving," alexia reasoned. mapi huffed as she hurriedly changed into her kit to get out onto the field. the less time that she had to see you, the better. if mapi was ever to have an enemy, it would have been you.

she knew that there wasn't really a good reason for the two of you to hate each other, but it had been that way for years. whether it be through playing internationally or in your clubs, you and mapi had always clashed on the field together. she knew that alexia was hoping that things would be different with the two of you on the same team, but mapi knew better.

"what is the deal with her?" ona asked as she glanced over to where mapi was glaring at you. everybody knew about you, but they didn't really know you personally. this was a brand new club to you, and you were going to keep your distance because surely these girls were all already mapi's friends.

you didn't understand the rivalry between the two of you. it had started back in international youth teams, and spiraled since then. emotions had run high for you back then, and in the year since, you had mellowed out a bit. many girls who you had once played against were now your friends, with the exception of maria.

maria seemed to hold onto the resentment from your youth. for you, it all stemmed in a single game. it was your chance to show how good you really were, and mapi had shut every single one of your attempts down. you knew how that it was just her having you marked, and that it wasn't personal, but back then it felt personal.

"go away ona, i don't want to talk about it," mapi practically growled. she was much closer to snapping with you around, and it was something that ona realized they'd all have to get used to. ona just hoped that it wasn't going to be a permanent change in attitude.

…

"fuck, come on!" you shouted as you rubbed your thigh. you thought that you were alone in the training room, so when you heard footsteps, you jumped. you looked around the room, surprised to see mapi limping around with an ice pack on her knee. "oh, it's you."

"don't sound too happy," mapi muttered. your face fell, unsure of why she was still being so mean to you. the two of you barely ever interacted during practice, but today had been put on the same team for the 5-v-5. mapi had played things a little high for a couple of the drills, which meant she had gotten you some great passes. if it wasn't for the bad blood between the two of you, there would be a lot of potential for a team up.

"what's wrong with your knee?" you can't help but ask. it's not that difficult to tell yourself that it's just because you're teammates. there was no way that you cared about mapi outside of the pitch. it wasn't like you had been catching yourself thinking of her randomly throughout the day or anything.

"pina, she jumped on my back and my knee buckled. it's no big deal. what's wrong with you?" mapi didn't hide the concern in her voice. you had hobbled away early during practice, and mapi knew you better than to think it was just to get out of drills. they had been ready to start your favorite one of practice when you left.

"it's an old injury that acts up sometimes. i'm good though, barcelona didn't waste their money signing me," you reassured her. mapi's face fell, wondering if that was how you thought she felt about you. truthfully, she hadn't been happy to learn that you came all the way here, but she respected you as a player. mapi knew firsthand how good you were, more often than not having been a thorn in her side when the opportunity arose.

"do you need ice or something?" mapi asked. you shook your head. icing your leg hadn't helped it at all. the tapes would help for a bit, but you needed something more. mapi tilted her head as she watched you try to rub your discomfort out. it was risky, but she stood up and stood in front of you.

"what are you doing?" you asked as you watched mapi move your hand away. hers replaced yours, working through the knots much better than you had been able to. "mapi-,"

"don't mention it, please," mapi said quietly. you nodded and closed your eyes as you leaned back against the bench. mapi was grateful for your eyes being squeezed shut because it allowed for her eyes to roam over your body. things seemed to be just fine between the two of you until her fingers pressed a little higher up than she meant to, pulling a very breathy sigh from your lips. "lo siento."

"don't mention it," you told her. mapi noticed the way that your voice shook like you were barely holding it together. it wasn't the first time that you had crossed her mind, but it definitely was the first time that she had ever really thought about putting her hands on you like this.

…

there's a definite shift in your relationship with mapi over the next couple of weeks. the two of you aren't exactly clambering to spend time together outside of training, but everybody could tell that something had changed. you opened up more to your teammates, no longer afraid that they'd all follow maria's lead and decide to hate you.

"hola maria," you greeted happily as you sat down across from the woman. she furrowed her brows as she looked at you, a slight pout on her lips. "it's rude not to say it back."

"don't call me maria, it makes me feel like i'm in trouble," she said.

"that's your name though," you said. she got up and stood in front of you, encroaching on your personal space. "what am i supposed to call you then?"

"mapi." she grabbed onto your chin and tilted your head up so that you were looking at her. there had been a weird bit of tension building up between the two of you that everybody was waiting to come to head. alexia seemed to watch the two of you with a particular closeness, occasionally with a look of disbelief on her face.

"fine. hola, mapi," you corrected. mapi smiled down at you, leaning in almost close enough to kiss you.

"hola, (y/n). are you coming out tonight? the girls want to go dancing." the invitation had been extended to you in the parking lot, but you hadn't accepted it just yet. you knew that tomorrow was a recovery day, but you also knew that meant twice the amount of drinks as normal. the spanish girls could handle their liqour a lot better than you could, having spent most of your adult life not drinking much.

"promise to keep an eye on me and make sure i don't drink too much?" you asked her. mapi nodded, smiling as she let go of your head. the two of you paired up for some of the drills during practice, something that had become fairly normal. after practice, mapi walked you out to your car, promising to pick you up whenever it was time to go out.

…

the club was absolutely packed, and you hated it. somehow, the entire team had been talked into going, which meant you knew a good amount of the people there, but it was still far too crowded for your liking. that was why you had sat down in a booth across from alexia and refused to move no matter what.

"are the two of you having fun?" you and alexia both glanced over to jenni, who looked disappointed. mapi and leila were right next to her, both of them looking at the two of you expectantly. "come on, it won't kill you to dance with us."

"it might, you don't know that it won't," alexia shot back quickly. you smirked as you watched jenni's face harden a bit. there wasn't a doubt in your mind that alexia would be in for it whenever they got home. jenni didn't like to brag about the things that she got up to with alexia in their bedroom, but the two of you had a habit of chatting in the gym.

"well, if you die, i'll just give you cpr," jenni said as she tugged alexia out of her seat. leila followed the two of them, trailing close behind jenni. that left you and mapi to stand there and stare at each other.

"come on, if ale can get up, so can you," mapi said. she was much more gentle in getting you onto your feet. she also seemed to be content to wait until a slower song started to get you out there.

you didn't fight with mapi as the two of you swayed to the beat of the music. her hands fell onto your hips as she pressed herself up against you. you welcomed the warmth of her body, not having realized how long it had been since someone touched you like this. your mind quickly went elsewhere, but when you felt the press of mapi's lips against the side of your neck, you realized that maybe she wanted this too.

"kiss me," you said as you turned around. you knew that mapi couldn't hear you, but she could read your lips well enough to know what you wanted. and even if she couldn't, you weren't being subtle at all. your eyes hadn't left her lips, not until she was leaning in. excitedly, you surged forward and closed the gap between the two of you.

mapi's lips were soft, a contrast to the way that her teeth nipped at your lip. you let out a little yelp, one that had mapi laughing as she held you in her arms. you swallowed as you looked at her before nodding towards the door. she nodded, and the two of you left the club wordlessly.

"my place or yours?" you asked mapi. she got into the passenger's seat of her own car, having given you her keys after her second drink. you were pretty sure that she hadn't drank much more after that, but in your mind, it was always better safe than sorry.

"yours. i have never been there before," mapi answered. you started her car, jumping a little as the engine roared to life. mapi laughed at that, placing her hand on your thigh to calm you down a bit. she knew that her car could be a bit much for someone driving it for the first time, but she trusted you. you had proven yourself to be one of the very responsible members of the team, especially tonight when everybody else had chosen to get nearly blackout drunk with a few expections.

mapi seemed surprised to see where your apartment was. you had truly gotten a good location, extremely close to the training grounds and nearby several restaurants and stores. mapi was a bit jealous, even if she did like her apartment. it was close by alexia and jenni's, so she could always go annoy them whenever she felt like it.

"it's a bit messy. i had a hard time finding something to wear tonight," you warned her. mapi didn't seem to care. her eyes dropped down to your outfit, appreciatively checking you out once again. it had been hard to keep her eyes off of you earlier in the night, and she was beyond relieved whenever you hadn't pushed her away on the dance floor.

"with how good you look, we'll be lucky to make it to your bedroom," mapi told you. you clenched your thighs together as you unlocked your door. once the two of you were inside, mapi pulled you in for another kiss. this one was firm without being rough. mapi established her control very early on, but you had expected as much.

you kicked your heels off before jumping up into mapi's arms. she carried you down the little hallway, stopping momentarily to press you against the wall to kiss you a little harder. you moaned into that kiss, grinding your hips against her just a little. mapi could already feel the heat coming off of your core, and she realized that she couldn't wait to have you.

"bedroom?" mapi asked. you pointed at the door at the end of the hallway. mapi pulled you away from the wall and walked you right over there. she set you down just long enough to let you move the dresses and clothes scattered about on your bed. you turned around to see her half-naked in front of you. "like what you see?"

"fuck yes," you breathed out. mapi smirked as she moved towards you. your hands immediately flew down to touch her stomach, fingers running along the taunt and toned muscle of her abdomen. mapi's head dropped down to rest on your shoulder, breathing heavily as your hands moved along her body.

"touch me." mapi guided your hands down between her legs. you were surprised, having assumed that she wouldn't have let you in so quickly. you had heard the way mapi talked about having sex with the girls she had picked up before, and it had all sounded very one-sided. although, you supposed that her letting you touch you like this was even more exciting because you did't expect it.

your fingers were met with skin made slick from arousal. mapi was panting in your ear as your fingers teasingly stroked between her lips. mapi bucked her hips forward as your fingers approached her clit. mapi's hands grabbed onto your shoulders for support as she tilted her hips just enough for your fingers to wind up at her entrance.

"one at a time," mapi told you. she sounded desperate, so you let one of your fingers slip inside of her. mapi hiked her leg up as she bucked her hips to try and ride your finger. you quickly lifted her with your other arm, pulling both of you back onto the mattress.

mapi stayed on top of you, riding your finger as you tried to comfortably adjust yourself beneath her. you could tell whenever the one finger wasn't quite enough for mapi, and slowly added a second. once again, you were patient as mapi set the pace that she wanted. you matched her thrust for thrust, not daring to go faster than what she was.

"please, i need more. i'm so close," mapi begged you. she was a lot more prone to whining than you had originally thought, but it didn't bother you one bit. you liked the vulnerability that mapi was willing to show to you, especially considering how volatile your relationship had been in the beginning.

"do you want another finger?" you asked. mapi shook her head, and suddenly, you realized what she needed. you dropped your other hand from her hip down between her legs, allowing for your fingers to brush against her clit. you felt a surge of wetness along with the first spasm of her cunt around your fingers. the next few came in controlled little waves, matching the rhythm set by the fingers against her clit. there was only so long that she could hold off on cumming, and once she had let you, you felt her body tense up around you.

mapi lifted herself off of your fingers before settling down in between your legs. she placed her hands on your waist and bunched them around your dress. you lifted your hips up off of the bed, allowing for the bottom of your dress to move up around your waist. mapi licked her lips as she looked straight ahead to be met with the sight of your definitely ruined underwear.

"i can't wait to taste you," mapi said as she leaned in. your breath hitched as you felt hers ghost across the insides of your thighs. it wasn't fair to see her so composed immediately after an orgasm. you felt like a wreck, turned on and no longer distracted with something interesting to focus on. you were left to lay there and think about how uncomfortable the now-sticky fabric of your underwear felt.

"please hurry," you whined. mapi hooked her fingers around your underwear and pulled them down slowly. she gave a quick teasing little lick between your lips, moaning in pleasure at the taste of you.

"so sweet, i could spend all night licking up every drop." the thickness of mapi's accent made you want to clench your thighs, but her hands kept them apart. she kept you spread open as she took her time to admire you. it was touching her that had gotten you so worked up, and once the two of you were finished, mapi planned on being insufferable about it.

"just please, i want to cum so badly." you looked at mapi with a pout. she bit her lip as she pushed her finger against your entrance. "two, not just one. i need to be fucked, mapi, fucked."

she gave you a quick nod and pushed another finger inside of you without hesitation. her fingers moved at a quick pace, nearly fucking the breath out of you. you threaded your fingers in her hair and pulled her head forward, directing her so that her mouth was on your clit. mapi didn't need instruction past that.

her tongue worked magic on your clit, moving with fluidity and precision. your hips were bucking wildly as you ground yourself against mapi's face. she let you push yourself closer and closer towards an orgasm until you were on the edge of it. that was when she wrapped both of her arms around your hips, keeping you still so that she could truly control when you came.

you hadn't meant to scream her name out at the top of your lungs, but it had still happened. mapi relished in the sound of it echoing off of your bedroom walls. your neighbors would be pissed, but you'd apologize later on, if you could even face them again. mapi liked the sound of her name spilling from your lips that she didn't stop there. you were physically pushing her off of your body to get her to give you a break, and even then, she was looking at you as she "patiently" waited for another turn.

"in the morning," you promised. mapi pouted as she settled in the bed next to you.

"that is so far away," mapi whined. you rolled your eyes at her as you pulled her in for a kiss. "just one more?"

"no, it's late, and i'd like to actually get some rest now. god, you're so needy, maria," you teased. mapi's brows furrowed as she stared at you, obviously not happy with the use of her full name.

"well, now you owe me one in the morning," mapi told you. you laughed it off, already having planned on having sex with her again in the morning. you knew that the two of you had opened up a can of worms, one that you'd be exploring for at least a couple more weeks. you hoped that it would blossom into more, but you didn't want to push mapi for anything too serious when you'd only recently become friends.

#minors do not interact #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon smut

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braaan · 9 months

Text

In all the ways that matter (w/ Yunjin)

male reader & lesserafim yunjin

smut & angst & fluff (the one where you want more of what’s already yours), 6k words

Let’s be honest: you don’t deserve Huh Yunjin.

She’s an ambitious mishmash of love languages. But from the way she’s always including you in wishlists back to her parents in New York, how she’s always testing new big-stretch-and-yawn-at-the-movies level ways to get her hands on you, or how she’s going on her eighth permutation of pet names and emojis for you on her phone (it’s been POOKIE🧸🦷🤭💙 for the past 2 weeks — your longest running), anyone would guess that she was fluent across the board.

And that’s only while you’re pretending that looks don’t matter.

Because whenever it feels like you have to chalk up a point for Yunjin’s personality, one of her physical features always stops you at the blackboard.

Yunjin looks like she was grandma-knit: finished patiently and smoothed tender. Where skin would normally crease, Yunjin softens. And between the way her eyes sweeten into crescent moons when she laughs, how her lips always find a way to ease back into their permanent pout, or how perfectly her chin nestles in between your fingers, there was nothing about her that didn’t compete to be your favorite.

But all of them have to settle for second best.

Because your favorite thing about Yunjin is her eyebrows.

They waltz between well-learned battle lines on her forehead, stretching emphatically behind boundaries they know other features did not dare cross, because compared to the rest of her face, they’re bold. They explode from sienna to whiskey and hook insultingly fast, threading down to points so sharp that it only feels right to dot them at the end like exclamation marks, putting a megaphone to the stories that her eyes tell. Only on Yunjin’s face does softness ring loudly. Eye contact morphs into reverie, amusement magnitudes up into hilarity, and tenderness becomes love.

You think it’s unfair.

It’s unfair that the reasons you could fall in love with her are endless. It’s unfair that she can simultaneously make the world the two of you share both so tiny, special, and unreplicable and then larger than life, ever-expansive, and infinite. And it’s unfair that she makes doing all of this at the same time look so effortless.

It’s a high bar to clear.

But you try anyway.

If not to at least get close to the standard she sets, for the sex.

The two of you are practically asking for it the time you get caught.

Standing at the far end of a HYBE practice room, it’s all so fitting: under the only lit floodlight, her on her knees, your cock at attention inches from her lips, tension teetering above climax — Huh Yunjin was going to give you a performance.

She’s kissing at the bottom of your shaft, lingering half a second longer each time as she slowly makes her way up your length. She mewls, ad libbing your grunts with soft, venom-laced yeah?s.

“You sound so pent up,” she starts, thumbing your cockhead counterclockwise.

You give her bits and pieces of an affirmative response: you let out a forced breath somewhere between a grunt and an exhale, grip your cock tighter, and pinch one of her nipples with your free hand. She translates.

“Mmm?” Yunjin purrs. She runs the flat of her tongue long across your entirety, flicking up as she reaches the tip.

You’re gripping at anything you can to stay alive. Trying to keep the facade up that you can compete. You splay your free hand and grab at her chest, playing dirty; grasping for a reaction. She plays your game and picks up the rhythm on your cock.

“You don’t want to just paint my face right now?”

Your breath is hot on your lips, tight in your chest. You’re parrying, blocking, countering. You look deep into the pools of honey bourbon in her eyes. You’re falling into the abyss.

Who fights fair with a poisoned blade? Yunjin? Not with the tears dotting the corners of her eyes; not with the drool running down her chin. Her cheeks are hollow as she swallows further and further down your cock. Her lips brush the base of your shaft. It feels good. She knows it feels good, the way she’s looking back up at you; the way you’re groaning.

She raises her eyebrows.

You cum.

And despite all of the preposition, conviction building, and white-knuckle–steeling, you think, you don’t really ever lose. Because the moment you ride out your orgasm, it’s great.

You can’t compete. You kick off the cliffhanger and throw yourself into freefall. You see white flashes where there used to be color, and the tightness under your stomach evaporates into a vacuum: hot, and all at once. You can fully exhale and for what has to be a full minute, you die.

And as usual, after she makes peace with killing you, Yunjin brings you back to life.

She kisses the top of your cockhead before sitting back on her heels. Under the spotlight, sweat literally shimmering, she’s glowing, and she’s ethereal. Her tongue darts at the sides of her mouth before retreating, replaced by her bottom lip, equal parts pink and proud; satisfied and smug. She grabs at a small towel sitting next to her before beginning to clean up, dabbing at where you’d made a fucking mess out of her face.

But not before the door to the practice room opens. Your stomach shatters, and everywhere you just felt warm goes cold. A woman takes the empty space in the doorway, starts in your direction, and continues way too fast.

Your brain is instantly numb, and you scramble for something further than a stone’s toss away from the plot of a cheap porno. She slipped on her towel and grabbed my zipper on the way down! What do you mean Yunjin’s in this room with us? My COCK? God no, this is a thermometer that just looks a lot like- You don’t get far.

And before you try at reasoning that would effectively end you on the spot, the woman gets close enough. She yelps, producing a folder from behind her to try and shield you from any further consequences.

“Can you put-” she shakes her hands — folder and all — in your general direction, “everything away?”

Jolted awake, you scramble at your pants at your ankles, pulling anything your fingers brushed against in the direction you thought was closed. In hindsight, the zippers for your pants pockets probably didn’t matter much, but you zip those too, hoping the thought counted. Yunjin reappears next to you, the straps of her newly stretched tank top sitting awkwardly on top of her shoulders, now resembling probably anything else closer than they would elastic.

The woman gingerly peeks an eye over at the two of you and lets out a deep, full exhale. “Good, phew!”

“You would think we’d have that practiced by now,” she tuts, using what was once her plastic barrier to fan herself. She shoots a dirtier glare at Yunjin before turning towards you, and her expression visibly softens. “Oh! Same guy!”

And instantly, anything that would give off that she was disappointed just a moment ago dissipates, and is replaced by genuine admiration.

“I respect that you guys are trying to make the dating thing work!”

There were some things that practice wouldn’t get you used to.

See, when you and Yunjin first started dating, you expected a little bit of onboarding. A little bit of catching up to speed: When were her parents’ birthdays? Was she allergic to anything? What were her favorite movies? For extra credit, you’re even brushing up on the idol industry: How long was a comeback promotion period? What was an aegyo? — the usual.

But you’re still taking notes to this day.

(It’s a Saturday a couple of months ago, and you and Yunjin are snaking through the aisles of a thrift store.

“And Chaewon’s seeing them?"

Okay: Yunjin’s snaking through the aisles of a thrift store. You’re trailing behind her, making sure you connected all the right dots together.

“Nope,” she says, eyes scanning a tattered band tee. Then, equally nonchalantly: “Idols get horny, too. Dating just makes things messier than they need to be.”

There’s an expectant pause, then Yunjin turns to look at you.

“Not that that’s a rule or anything,” she adds, placing a hand on yours as if to close the lid on any implication that tried to escape. “It’s just not most people’s style.”)

‘Given’ was probably the word for it, you think. The idol industry collected teenagers at their most formative periods, and where others their age condensed pre-calculus and high school breakups, they learned choreography and how to introduce themselves across the language spectrum. When other kids’ hormones flared up and made them deal with acne, they were digitally edited, scrubbed clean, and hidden behind locked doors. An industry formed on cherry-picking highlights had to have a gnarly underbelly — what would be taboo had to be a given — and it probably only helped that everyone had to look like sex.

So you try to catch up and blend in. Try to not get hung up on how casually sex, drugs, and secrets are laced in sentences. Try to take what Yunjin says at face value.

Still, as her manager leads you through the lobby towards the revolving doors, and you’re bowing profusely as you try to apologize for what she brushes off as not the first time and very normal, there’s a certain edge about it all. Like no matter how airtight Yunjin’s grip tried to be, that you were fortifying a house of cards with pillars of paper mâché.

And it sure as hell didn’t help that halfway through the lobby, you trade greetings with her fake boyfriend.

There were some things that practice wouldn’t get you used to.

So get this: your girlfriend was going to be one half of a manufactured dating scandal.

She stood too close to another idol at a variety show, and online forum sentiment was eating it up (or something like that). There it was: a full page, in bold. All over social media. Yunjin, and the boy with the jawline and swoon-inducing eyes (not that you were jealous), everywhere at once, and on the tips of everyone’s tongue. The buzz brought eyeballs to her group debut, and what better way to snowball that momentum than to confirm it?

Yunjin just didn’t know that you knew yet.

And for your sake, it was probably for the better that she thinks her secret was safe. Firstly, because you don’t know how to feel about how you get the information. You were both at the pinnacle of industry — dating an idol — and at the mercy of it — cobbling together information from vague fan accounts, building a list of social accounts that got leaks right; irony never played fair.

And secondly, because you didn’t know how to bring it up.

Truth be told, you don’t know how to feel about it. You don’t know how you’re supposed to feel about it. You’re equal parts ruptured and reductive. Half of you thinks it borders on trust, and the other half scolds you for thinking that way: that you signed up for this, and don’t know how to compromise. Half of you imagines what they talk about when you’re not around: how far he’ll go to convince the public of a relationship, and the other half thinks you have no self-esteem for stooping that low.

All of you yearns for Yunjin. Because where there were all the things that you had to get used to, there were also the FaceTimes. The phone calls of complete silence when she just wanted someone to listen but was too exhausted to recount what practice was just like. The joy on her face when she told you that was going to debut.

Imposing would be selfish. She deserved everything she worked for, and you don’t even come close to par. Under it all, through the glitz, you see the Huh Yunjin that you fall in love with over again every single day, and she had too tight of a grip on your heart for you to break hers.

So you don’t bring it up, and wait for her to.

It’s quite literally pathetic the way notifications on your phone evoke a physical response out of you. Like it fires a neuron, you’re diving hands outstretched every time you hear it chime.

Sure, it hasn’t paid off yet — you’ve dropped literally everything to be greeted by promotional emails, pushes about the weather, and pings on the latest discounts — but you’ll hold your breath.

Though as you pick yourself up off the floor from familiar disappointment at another non-Yunjin notification, you can’t say that you’re less confused. And you’ve caught yourself multiple times today way too deep in somber tangents for some of it not to start sticking.

The loudest of them all stemmed from the fact that it felt like the answer was implied. That if there was nothing to it, it’d be easy to talk about. That if it was anything like the dating mantra, since it didn’t apply to the two of you, Yunjin would address it at face value.

And tautologically, because she didn’t, it wasn’t.

It’s the end of the week when Yunjin finally texts you.

have dinner plans tonight mister? :)

You draft two texts. The first makes you sound sixteen: obnoxiously sad about the state of affairs of literally everything. The second makes you sound sociopathic: blunt, deflecting, and not enough emojis. You send a third.

Nope! What do you have in mind?

Before long, you’re sitting on a blanket overlooking the Hangang. The sun’s setting, playing a global game of cat and mouse: light spills through the gaps in willow trees, gazebos, and construction, highlighting pockets of parkground with its blessing of orange-red. You’re where the surface area’s the largest, like the paper bowls of ramen didn’t anchor the blanket down enough, and the sun’s rays are what did the trick.

Or, technically speaking: bowl of ramen.

Because while Yunjin was three-quarters of the way finished with hers, sneaking bites in as she took breaths in between practically spoiling her next comeback, yours was virtually untouched. You made do with spinning the floating egg in your bowl dizzy.

“You know,” Yunjin starts, “you didn’t have to come out if you weren’t hungry.”

You look up at her. Her head’s cocked at an angle, piqued such that it catches sunlight. In the glow, she’s beautiful.

“I’m a big girl now,” she emphasizes. “You can tell me no. I might cry myself to sleep after, but — you know — in a big girl way.”

Her eyes curl up into tiny moons like they always do, and you give her a weak response.

It’s tightrope thin. Yunjin’s prodding, expecting you to riposte, poking at things she knows will get a reaction out of you; you don’t bite. You’re both expecting an answer. Your heart is jackhammering at your chest, and between the punctuation, in the offbeats, you want to yell. You want to find out if your house of cards is built on sand.

The both of you are walking back towards HYBE, along the scenic route that you always take, and only someone purposely oblivious would guess that everything was fine.

“Do you,” Yunjin perks up, trailing off, “not like the comeback?”

You don’t say anything.

“Maybe,” she pokes again, “you’re grumpy because I haven’t been texting you?”

You feel her eyes peek at you then retreat. In your peripheral vision you see her purse her lips, nod, and then smirk. You hear a tiny breath.

“Are you,” and she lets out an exaggerated gasp, “seeing someone else?”

“I know about your scandal, Yunjin,” you blurt out, and it's too fast for either of your own goods.

There’s a beat. You both stop walking. You turn her way.

“Your dating scandal — your fake boyfriend — whatever.”

Yunjin isn't great at hiding her emotions — her eyebrows give it away. You see her face gradient across shock, then consideration, before landing on shame. Her eyebrows knit, and she can’t meet your eyes.

There’s another beat. You can hear your heart thump in your ears, and despite the autumn at night, you’re hot. You’re searching her face for a tell, some semblance of an answer; anything.

You’re imposing.

And for the first time in the past week, you’re thinking of her. Of her today and her in the past. Of all the work she put in to get to where she wanted to be. Of what she had to give up to have tonight with you. Of all the nights before this, and the many she had to cancel abruptly because work came up. Of her being here now, and you selfishly making this about yourself.

You’re imposing, and it feels like shit.

“I’m-,” Yunjin starts, voice shaky.

You look at her, and there’s tears pooling in her eyes.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up,” she continues slowly, and then the surface tension breaks. She shuts her eyes tight, and then she’s crying. “It’s in the contract we signed. It helps our comeback.”

You hear the Huh Yunjin that you first fall in love with. Before the glitz, before she had to pretend like she was an adult-

“I don’t know what to say.”

- before she had to hide anything from you.

(The two of you are in front of the HYBE building, and she’s giving you shit for how messily you eat. It’s a late spring, and Yunjin’s hair is shoulder-length and cherry oak. You’re missing a lecture on the pigeonhole principle, and she’s dodging her manager — sea salt ice cream was seasonal, after all.

“How did you get it on your nose?” She chides you, dabbing around your mouth with a scrunched napkin. “They should have you give your I.D. to see if you can handle a cone instead of a cup. Nine-year olds can do this better than you.”

“What if you don’t debut, Yunjin?”

You were always good at telling it like it was, even if you had to disregard social tact. But you had a point. Yunjin was going on her third trainee year, and internally, it didn’t look like it was going to be her last.

There’s a couple of beats before she softens.

“I don’t know.”

It’s a side of her that really only you do. Under the spunk and the character she has to amplify, there is fear: that she’s taking too large a gamble, that she’d be perpetually behind if she didn’t make it, that it’d be safer if she just did what everyone else was doing.

She can’t meet your eyes, and she’s fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“I just think things tend to happen for a reason,” she says, with more resolve than you expect. “And I don’t think it’s worth it to question it deeper than that.”

“How much of that is because you’re scared of the answer?”

There’s a pause, and the implication is clear.

“Do you always hate to have just a cute, fictional moment?” You look down at her, and she’s expecting it, staring back at you, eyebrows knit, lips in an exaggerated pout. “We can’t just — I don’t know — kiss and end things on the high note?”

You break, and let out the unflattering start to a laugh. She’s deflecting, and you know to let it go. In your heart of hearts, the two of you know that you’re both right. That there’s fear in uncertainty — a lot of it — but also hope. That big payoffs don’t come if you don’t gamble it all.

You lean down and kiss her on the nose.

She’s staring at you as she walks all the way back through the revolving doors, a smirk across her lips, and the unmistakably blue speck of sea salt ice cream on her nose. She’s yelling, letting you know to let the rest of your face have some ice cream, too.)

And you’re staring at her, wishing this time was half as picturesque. She doesn’t have the words; she doesn’t have to. Asking the hard question was your thing. She’s pleading, frantically, and her watery eyes are beckoning. You want to tell her that it’ll all play out, that things happen for a reason; you don’t have to — that was her thing.

Under the soft, streetlamp glow, you see the Yunjin the public doesn’t — the uncertainty, the gamble, the fear. You hear the desperation in the dark days; the resolve, unconvincing yet unabashed, that what was far out was not so; the throughline: that if she pretended to be convinced, maybe you would, too.

You see the Yunjin you love, and you’re so fucking whipped.

You thumb the tear trailing down her cheek. You’re defeated, and it bleeds into your voice, but never going to pass on hitting where it hurts. “What happened to changing the idol industry?”

She chokes back a laugh through tears. “Okay,” she starts, and through the sarcasm she tries for — and how muddy it was between sniffles — she’s glad to hear your voice. “It’s the goddamn industry. What am I supposed to do in the debut video: admit defeat? Who’d watch that?”

“Sorry, it’s just — all of it — so dumb,” she adds for good measure, swiping at her eyes.

Hanging in the night, in the words unsaid, in between the watery sarcasm and the tension quickly evaporating, it’s clear. The two of you resolve a silent conversation. You’re punctuating her apologies with eye rolls, and she wants to hear you say you love her, but she knows that already. You say you don’t deserve her, and she calls you stupid.

Tears hot down your cheeks, you’re both laughing now, bouncing off of each other. And then, into the what’s next of it all: “I can try to get out of it,” Yunjin says.

It’s cathartic and real, and should disarm you.

But you say no.

Down to your cores, you and Yunjin were infinitely kindred. Intertwined forever, etched in the books of fate with permanent marker. You were after each other's hearts, molded from the same cosmic clay. You had each other in all the ways that mattered, and that would never change.

The last stop on your train home is when you get the notification.

are you headed home?

And in the moment, you catastrophize. It was in the middle of the weekend of her comeback. What was she thinking? Did something happen? How far were you away from HYBE?

But even if you played the same situation back a hundred times over, there was no way in hell you’d get to the conclusion that Huh Yunjin was in your foyer, behind your door, and wearing what didn’t leave much to imagination.

“Yunjin-” you try and start, before you’re kissed quiet.

Her hands are on top of yours, leading, as you smooth down the creases of her vanilla crop top and run your thumbs down her body. Your fingers are fluid, filling the divots, tracing along the lines, running the valleys of muscle in the flat of her stomach. Between bouts, as her lips linger inches away from yours, for a moment uncaptured, you breathe in air nonvenomous, and try to grapple with it all, scrambling for something to hold on to before your brain short circuits.

You’re sinking, and you don’t know how to wrestle rights from rudimentaries. Yunjin’s eyes, glazed over, zero in on yours, and she kisses you again. Her lips are sweet and have a bite to them, yours smack as you swallow the venom thick on your tongue. She pulls away, you come up for air.

Standing in the soft, orange-yellow glow of light from the room adjacent, you see the Yunjin the public does — the siren, sultry and seductive: her eyes, soft, malleable, and unassuming — how she could convince you that your name was something else entirely if she looked at you head on — her lips, venom-laced and tantalizing — how she’d push the agenda.

Except this time, you’re finally lucid, and you see the parallel. In the muscles — impressive in the light, but meek at the same time, like it split moments in the spotlight with softness — in the eyes — perpetually provocative, but infinitely innocent — in the perfect unattainable. Everything is polished, nudged purposefully in its direction. It’s all artificial, doctored, and done up.

Huh Yunjin is a product of industry, and you were going to fuck it out of her.

Yunjin’s smirk dismantles as you rip your hands from her grip. It completely falls apart as you pull her into you face first, thumbs across her cheeks. And as she tries to pull back, you’re keeping her where you want her, kissing into the poison. Her hands grab at your chest; at your dress shirt, half foregoing permission, pulling buttons apart, and half to steady herself as you move your dance deeper into your living room.

You’re leading this time, and as your knees bump brown velvet, you’re able to rasp: “Yunjin, on the couch.”

“How do you want me?” she whispers, breath hot on your lips.

“Legs apart.” You push her into the middle seat, and her hands are working at her shorts. There’s an audible zip, and they’re on your hardwood.

And as you’re kneeling down into the negative space in between Yunjin’s thighs, in the seconds, sultry and slow-burn, you catch a glimpse of her face. Spread across the finger in her mouth, eyes half-lidded, and eyebrows upturned, you think you see anticipation. Like you were going to rip Yunjin apart, and — straying away from what she was taught, coloring outside the lines — she might let you.

You test the theory: you take her into your mouth.

And you don’t think you’ve heard an exhale more pained.

You’re generous — lapping at her heat through lace, grazing against her clit — and with variety — kissing her inner thighs, nipping at skin. Yunjin’s sensitive and unintelligible.

“Fuck,” she manages to get out, her hips bucking, searching for more of you. One of her hands tries to meet you where you are, to pull her panties to the side, to feel you on her. But you redirect her to where you want her to be: your free hand on her wrist, you lead her up her chest. And though reluctantly, she translates. Together, you’re undoing buttons, palming the fullness of her breast, and flicking at the hard bud of her nipple.

Eventually, you give Yunjin what she wants.

You’re cradling her thighs around your forearms, and at the angle you have her, suspended, supported by the small of her back, you swear she yelps. You draw her underwear to the side, and then Yunjin’s squealing. She’s whining, she’s so wet, she’s raking her nails at your scalp. Your mouth’s on her cunt, drawing long across her folds, tonguing the alphabet over her clit.

There’s this moment. She’s arching, thighs hooked tight at your arms, on her tiptoes. You poke your tongue into her heat, there’s a high note, and then Yunjin’s cumming in your mouth.

And as you coax her through it, tongue flat, letting her ride your mouth, you’re sharing a gaze. Morbid curiosity can’t stop her from peeking at the mess she’s making, and you want to see what it looks like to kill a goddess.

“Fuck,” Yunjin repeats, like it’s the only word she knows, as you lick your lips. Her head’s tucked into her chest, and the orange bask she’s painted in is competing with the blush sauntering across her cheeks.

“You’re so-” she starts, dodging your eyes, kicking out gingerly at you.

“Mm?” you beckon, easing yourself in between her legs, undoing the button at your pants, freeing your cock tenting at the fabric. “I’m so?” you press again, tugging her panties off, soaked beyond belief.

And how you have her under you, top unbuttoned, hanging off her shoulders, how she can’t meet your eyes, it’s apt. Like she’s disarmed. Like under the layers of polish and practice, purposefully put away; under the glitz, the expensive everything: multisyllabic and most likely mispronounced; under the spunk, in her personal space, when she wasn’t allowed to deflect, Huh Yunjin was naked, and like putty in your hands.

All it took was your mouth on her cunt.

And she sure as shit didn’t need to say anything to you to admit it. It’s hard to miss, the way she’s folding her legs behind your waist, the red across her cheeks deepening.

“Think about your answer,” you quip for good measure, and with your cock hovering inches away from her pussy: “I’m going to fuck you now.”

And truthfully, the confidence is more for you than it is for Yunjin. It’s far from your first time, but every time you slide your cock in Yunjin’s cunt, it’s like everything around you takes a collective deep breath. Time becomes measured in fractions of a second, and you’re clairvoyant and hypersensitive. The head of your cock pushes into her pussy, and it’s hot.

You inhale a breath, picking up the sex in the air.

You swear your vision inverts. There’s white where there used to be color.

You catch the entirety of Yunjin’s mewling, as she goes from fuck, please, and your cock into falsetto. She’s mixing your name with untranslatables.

You feel her fucking cunt.

Teeth gritted, you’re pairing hard and soft. You bury your length in her, the front of your thighs slapping the back of hers, and kiss her lips tender. You only taste Yunjin, and you kiss her like she’s lifeblood. It’s sweet: her lipstick, her taste still on your lips, the breaths you’re sharing. And as Yunjin breaks for air, you’re whispering in the negative space, breath hot.

“Yeah?”

And she’s nodding her head, uncontrollably. Agreeing to anything you put forward, before you even asked. Anything that kept your cock in her.

“You’re-” you try again.

Your hands wrap around her midriff, her hands wrap around your wrists.

“You’re such a-”

God, her fucking cunt.

Except you need to hear it. You want to hear her say it, airtight, with no room for implication to escape.

“Yunjin,” you finally manage, and then in whole: “You’re such a good girl for my cock, aren’t you?”

She’s nodding her head, mumbling. But that wasn’t good enough for you. You’re hilting, deep in her cunt, and steadying yourself, curling a hand around her neck. “Yunjin” — a little louder — “answer me.”

Her hands around your wrists tighten, and she lets out this moan. Like she’s trying to give you the answer you want, and frustrated that she can only whine. Finally, through the untranslatables: yes, yes, all for your cock-

But that wasn’t it. Your fingers are pressing into her throat, and you’re pounding into her, wet all over you; imprinting her into the sofa. “Yunjin,” and it’s dark. “This is all you want, isn’t it?”

And she’s doing everything she can to convince you. She’s pushing herself into your length, grabbing at your hands, and through eyes half-lidded, staring deep at you. To show you she can compete, to show you just how good she was — just for you. And through your grip: “Yes, fuck. God, yes — this is all I-”

But it’s not what you want to hear. You’re riding the line. You’re biting your tongue bloody. Yunjin’s cunt is suffocatingly tight against your cock. Your grip’s white-knuckle on her skin. You shut your eyes tight. You know what you wanted to hear.

“Your other boyfriend can’t give it to you like this, can he?”

And you spend all the luck that was supposed to last you this lifetime, because in a moment of lucidity, you pull out. But immediately after that, you’re left to your own devices, and of course, you cum.

It’s hot, and you feel like a rubber band twanged across the middle. Like everything tight is wrenched out of you, and then let go, left to ricochet on your spine, springing back and forth. Your ears are ringing, your toes are curling; you’re letting out an orgasm so deep, you’re only saved by the fact that your eyes are closed for half of it.

And as you stir, blinking vision back into your eyes, your brain coming back to center, you’re thinking back, and you realize what the fuck you just said.

Yunjin’s meeting you where your eyes are at. Your brain’s numb, her jaw’s frozen in this half-scoff, lips untouching. She raises her eyebrows, giving you somewhere between what the fuck and intrigued. It’s expectant. You opened this up, she’s saying, now what?

You’re standing in the sand, and your house of cards is crumbling. You’re toeing where you expect the line to be, can’t find it, and don’t need to look to know it’s long behind you. Your chest is tight, and the implication is still in the air. You’re scrambling for something: something to walk it back, something in between the lines, anything to drive a stake through the premise and kill it entirely.

Yunjin is less patient. She ventures into the unknown, since you won’t. “Has this been about that the entire time?”

“Yunjin,” and you’re honest, preemptively reaching your hands out to her. “I don’t know why I said that.”

You’re looking straight into her eyes, completely wide. Her eyebrows pinch, and there’s a couple of beats. You know you should take them, to fill in the blanks; not to let the implication linger. But before you do: “I thought about my answer,” Yunjin starts, lowering her fingers to where you left yourself on her stomach.

And only after she runs her forefinger across her tongue, only after she cleans it of cum: “You’re so good, and no one can give it to me like you do.”

Spread across the bite in her lip, eyes half-lidded, and how she’s staring at you through her lashes, the implication’s crystal. And you would probably literally short circuit, if not for the second wind that was Yunjin licking you off of her fingers as she doubled down.

It all crescendos. She’s flipped over, and you’re pounding her into the couch, half to punctuate any sentences that implied she wasn’t completely yours, and the other half because her cunt was still so goddamn tight. The upholstery’s harmonizing, the hardwood exhaling on her offbeat.

You’re gripping Yunjin’s hips, bottoming out in her cunt at an angle, pulling her back into you. And she’s writhing, whining, taking your cock deeper and deeper.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she’s saying, and it irks you a little more than it should.

“Yunjin,” you spit, and you’re pressing your thumbs into her skin. “Shut up and take this dick like a good girl.”

And when you’re both pressing the buttons-

“Who else can fuck you like this, Yunjin?”

no one no sorry so sorry all yours this pussy yours you fuck me so- so hot when you’re jealous

“Yeah? You want me to? You’re such a good girl for me, baby,”

yes so good only for you so messy all over your cock fuck cum in me cum in me please i’ve been such a good girl please

- the gray area might as well be a chasm.

Because after you cum inside her, Yunjin drooling over your sofa, breath shuddering, leaking all over your cock, you have a mountain to climb. Physically — how you’re crumpled over her, exhausted, entangled — emotionally — how you’ll both put a cap on this in its entirety — and all of the rest of the above.

You’ll wait for her to bring it up.

Yunjin’s wrapped in your dress shirt, two sizes too big, and her head’s on your chest. Nothing short of Herculean, you’re in bed, and under polyester.

“He has a girlfriend, you know,” she says.

“Huh?” you manage intelligibly.

“My scandal.” Yunjin motions under the sheets, like the word needed air quotes. “Cute little thing. Works at an animal hospital. Always the loudest voice in the fanchants.”

You’re stunned, and don’t know what the right line of conversation is. “How are they taking it?”

“Probably makes their sex hotter, too.”

Dating made everything so much messier than it needed to be.

Two weeks after their comeback, the scandal breaks.

The official post is tame, but knowing netizens — a look at the comments confirming your suspicions — they’re feral. It’s a collage of three photos that look like they were taken from fifty feet away, but unmistakably of Yunjin an arm’s length away from another figure. They’re on a blanket overlooking the Hangang; she’s cuddled up in one of your hoodies, two sizes too big; and in the third photo, enlarged in post for emphasis, Yunjin’s nestled in his arm, selling the relationship pretty goddamn well.

You open an alt account and leave a hate comment.

LET’S BE HONEST HE DON’T DESERVE HER 💀💀💀😭😭😭

---

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #idol x male reader #idol x reader #lesserafim smut #yunjin smut

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bellshazes · 11 months

Text

dreaming up a syllabus for an imaginary course on metanarratives about gameplay, which i think would go something like:

unit 1: who do you think you are i am - auto-documentary & games

Vlogs and the Hyperreal, Folding Ideas

The Slow Death of Let's Play Videos, Meraki (to ~10:00)

World Record Progression: Mike Tyson, Summoning Salt

ROBLOX_OOF.mp3, hbomberguy

Life as a Bokoblin: A Zelda Nature Documentary, Monster Maze

optional: Braindump on the History of Let's Plays, slowbeef

unit 2: what like it's hard? - intro to challenge narratives

Chapter 26: Games as Narrative Play: Two Structures for Narrative Play, Rules of Play

A different kind of challenge run: Minimalist 100% (BOTW), Wolf Link

Surviving 100 Days on Just Dirt, Mogswamp

Can You Beat DARK SOULS III with Only Firebombs, the Backlogs

Is it Possible to Beat Super Mario 3D World while permanently crouching?, Ceave Gaming

The Pacifist Challenge - Beating Hollow Knight Without Collecting Soul [CHALLENGE] - Sample

optional: How to 100% Snowpeak Ruins in under 15 minutes, bewildebeest

unit 3: nelly you don't understand, i AM the narrative - form and function

The Future of Writing about Games, Jacob Geller

Can You Beat GRIME Without Weapons?, the Backlogs

Mushroom Kingdom Championships, Ceave Gaming

My Life as a Barber in Hitman 2, MinMax (Leo Vader)

MyHouse.WAD - Inside Doom's Most Terrifying Mod, PowerPak

optional: Mega Microvideos, Matthewmatosis

the theme and structure is mostly intended to introduce at least one critical or historically contextual work followed by examples of the type of narrative in question.

in unit 1, this is the idea of "How do people talk about their own experiences in the context of YouTube and playing video games?" across three rather different kinds of documentaries. unit 2 is intended to take that lens of who is telling what tale and dial in on challenge running, where i first noticed the way some videos turn the story of overcoming a challenge into its own narrative that is distinct from but related to the narrative events of the game itself. unit 3 circles back to the bigger picture with a variety of examples that, to me, are maximally metanarrative, the emergent story of the player-narrator now functionally replacing the game's embedded narrative.

bonus unit: broken narratives

Glitch & the Grotesque at the MLA, Sylvia Korman

Watching time loop movies to escape my time loop, Leo Vader

The Stanley Parable, Dark Souls, and Intended Play, Folding Ideas

Breaking Madden, Jon Bois

The TRUTH about the Pizzaplex in FNAF: Security Breach, AstralSpiff

this one is highly underdeveloped, but i'd love to work out something more robust building on randomizer challenges that produce intentionally bizarre, semi-ironic "lore," and bois-esque endeavors to break games so hard the story itself crumbles. but that's really out of scope so i'm just including the links to things i couldn't bear to get rid of. more rambling abt the challenge runs I chose under the cut.

Challenge runs represent one of the most obvious places to start, due to being extremely plentiful and having a hook that makes a "here's how I did X thing in Y video game" format almost unavoidable. Minimalist 100% is an underrated and sweet straightforward example that I mostly include as a baseline for reporting-out style narrative; here are the facts, here's what happened, this is the thing that it is. Mogswamp's 100 Days on Just Dirt is similar in style, but the physical measuring of days is a delightful and, more importantly, external narrative device.

Now oriented, we get a taste of Ceave Gaming's narrative approach to Mario challenges with the no-crouching run, and while we still aren't at the degree of player-characters being constructed for the narrative's sake, the spirited belief in crouching sets the stage for other rhetoric in more extreme cases we'll see later.

The Backlogs' entire body of work qualifies here, but GRIME is the strongest inspiration for putting this list together. I include the DS3 firebombs run because what was initially a factual description of how his wife's use of firebombs inspired him to play differently in the original DS1 firebombs run has developed into full-blown multi-game narrative arc with the Firebomb Goddess (his wife, who also voices the character) compelling his in-game character to achieve his destined quest. Grime takes that even further,

In-Game Documentaries

I include Life as a Bokoblin mostly as a contrast to My Life as a Barber - there is a level of fictionalization and roleplay involved in the Zelda in-game documentary that highlights exactly what I want to single out when I am talking about metanarrative, the story about a story.

#peter posts #mc meta #<- close enough #also i will add some context for the rest of the docus too since the summoning salt is on here for a VERY SPECIFIC REASON

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melonnmiru · 7 months

Text

being a professional volleyball player had gotten kiyoomi an onslaught of— albeit, somewhat unhinged, fans.

he'd never say he hated his fans. in fact, he appreciated their constant support for his growth as both a person and a way too attractive volleyball player. however, the way some of them would show their support was rather... unique for his standards.

the two of you were sprawled out on the couch, you mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, and him ultimately deciding to do the same. this was one of the few times he ever even went on the damn app and the first thing he's greeted with is an edit of him from his most recent game. he somehow felt inclined to open the comments but a part of him knew his scowl would only deepen if he did.

you leaned over and tried to smooth out the crease in between his brows with a hum. "you gotta give them credit, 'omi. you look really hot there."

"it's a 15 second video of me drinking water."

"still hot."

he rolled his eyes, switching his phone off and leaning on your shoulder. you went back to running through his hair with one hand, and scrolling on tiktok with the other.

while kiyoomi was mainly focused on how nice it felt to have your fingers gently carding through his hair, he was also listening along to the random audios that played each time you scrolled onto another video. eventually, a song oddly familiar to kiyoomi started up on your phone.

wait.

kiyoomi paused, turning to look up at you in a comically slow manner with a grimace painted on his face. you bit back a laugh at his sour expression, batting your eyelashes back at him. "what's wrong, my sweetheart, honeybunch, sugarplum, light of my life?"

"ignoring those disgusting pet names— is that the same edit i just saw?"

the familiar song played faintly as you offered him an innocent grin. you glanced at your phone then back at him, quickly swiping up. "edit? don't know what you're talking about."

alas, the algorithm knew you a bit too well. maybe it was coming after you with the fact yet another kiyoomi edit popped up after you swiped. the two of you stared at the screen silently, your thumb sliding over to press another button.

"...what a coincidence, huh 'om-"

"did you just favorite it?"

you didn't respond. he shifted closer to grab your phone, you leaned away. this ultimately led to you and kiyoomi wrestling for your phone. as you two were tugging at your phone, it slid to unsurprisingly, another kiyoomi edit.

"i'm gatekeeping these, get off!"

"they're literally edits of me!"

eventually, he decided to dig his fingers in your sides, causing you to break into what sounded like a mixture of a scream and manic laughter. he smiled triumphantly, using his free hand to grab your phone from your— now weak grasp and going straight to your favorites.

he scrolled through the random collection of cooking tutorials he knows you won't do, cat videos you've shown him multiple times, and of course, edits of him. from clips of him from interviews to his monstrous spikes, you had it all.

"this is— an invasion of privacy!" you whined, trying to get your phone back to no avail. kiyoomi looked through all your saved edits with an amused look. "think you might be even more obsessed than these fans." he teased, his shoulders shaking as a chuckle escaped his lips.

"god, can't someone enjoy videos of their jaw-droppingly handsome, gorgeous, hot, attractive boyfriend in peace?"

"not when you're right next to said handsome boyfriend, watching those videos on the highest possible volume."

you waved off his quip, "details, details." you propped your head on his shoulder and watched in silent amusement as he regrettably decided to open the comments on one of the edits. he's not even sure how some of these comments slipped past community guidelines, while some were rather tame, gushing about how good he looked, some were so depraved he thought he was going to get permanent frown lines just by looking at them.

"if you though that was bad, you should see what i say on twitter."

for the sake of his sanity, kiyoomi decides against checking your twitter account.

my 31 pending school reqs will not stop me from kiyoomi posting!!

#♡ crumpled paper #i dont like this 1 but i cant bring myself to work on it anymore its been like 2 weeks 😭😭#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa fluff

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