#mm fanfic

[kangjaehee]

RFA + sex headcanons

because i am in a Mood. minors do not interact

content under the cut

YOOSUNG.

SUBBY.

like... very. He likes it when u take control.

He likes it when you’re mean to him, when you demand, when you give him no choice but to do as you say if he wants to be a good boy for you.

Humiliation is his shit kinda... he says he doesn’t like it when you highlight how sensitive he is but you, who sees how he trembles at every word you say, you know different.

And on that regard... he’s sensitive. Like, the slightest touch and the right words can crumble him into a whimpering mess within seconds. You’re actually quite shocked. But you absolutely love it.

And he’s loud, too. Doesn’t at all hold back his cries, which sound oh so beautiful to you.

Very into pet play. Likes when you take care of him, likes the element of humiliation that comes with being treated like an animal.

Make him do the gross embarrassing things. Make him eat from a bowl and bark. It gets him off.

Surprisingly, he’s not that much into physical pain or impact, just the control element of it all. He likes it as part of something else, but not in and of itself.

Actually he gets off more in the concept of punishment than the act itself... it urges him on. You think it’s cute. It makes him harder to hear your little dismissive laugh after he whines.

He finishes quite fast but my god does he have stamina. He can go for rounds and rounds that leave you asking for a break.

it turns out all those lolol all nighters he pulled did actually mean something....

Also: the idea of you taking care of him while he’s in the middle of a game??? and not letting him cum until he wins????? GOD it makes him melt.

Very kissy during aftercare. Also very talkative.

You actually have no idea how a person can have this much energy after cumming so many times but hey this is Kim Yoosung we’re talking about.

He doesn’t sext but he does call you to tell you how needy he is. Over the line, you hear him stroke himself to your voice. It makes you lose your mind.

ZEN.

this man has 1 goal and 1 goal only: making you feel good

service top pleasure dom whatever you wanna call it. He just wants you to feel loved and sexy and give you the orgasm of your life.

He likes feeling you. Groping your thigh, manhandling you, kissing you red and raw.

(of course, all while he praises you and tells you how unbelievably gorgeous you are...)

And you absolutely love it. It makes you feel wanted, powerful.

Active sex drive. Y’all do it every other day or so. Not always for long. But it’s an integral part of your relationship. 

He’d do it anywhere. In the kitchen, living room, bathroom, car... He doesn’t need to be comfortable, he just needs his hands and your body to touch.

But don’t misinterpret him, he loves planned affairs too. Especially when you go out of your way to set the mood with lighting and scents and stuff.

LOVES it when you dress up for him. Put on some cute lingerie and sit there, watching as he turns beet red and his breath deepens.

And send him pics. be the biggest tease you can be. Anything relating to you drives him crazy. In his eyes, you’re the sexiest being on the planet, no matter what anyone has told you.

Although keep in mind that he Will warn u about the power u have over him and The Beast potentially coming out at an unwanted moment...

You always tell him to be patient and wait, as if that’s not exactly what you’re after. The Beast always comes out when he gets home though, with him absolutely devouring you in kisses.

Stamina for days... like come on let’s be real he’s a musical theatre performer. He’s Never done.

Not very kinky but has a thing for breeding? creampieing? He wants to claim you, to have something of his inside you.

...And you don’t hate the idea but Babe don’t you think we’re... too young for kids?

Oh my God sorry I didn’t mean it like that... But, hey, don’t you think I’d make a good dad ;)?

You roll your eyes and laugh.

Also he’s not so opposed to the idea of bondage... to have unrestricted access to your body like that (or you to his...)

Surpisingly likes toys. If they make the experience better for you... (and he wants to try them too, though he’s not gonna admit it).

He’s not very keen on being on the receiving end. Doesn’t exactly like not being the one in charge, but he relents every once in a while.

He particularly loves blowjobs. He thinks you look so stupidly sexy while doing them, and the way he flusters and bites his lip... it’s so cute

(One day you’re gonna get him on his knees for you, one day.)

JAEHEE.

Although the tension between you two and the desire you harbored for each other was undeniable, it took you quite a while to get intimate.

When you crossed that threshold, though... Well, let’s just say there was no return.

Lots of kissing. Before, during, and after. She kisses you intensely, with purpose, like she wants to eat you whole. It’s a bit overwhelming. Makes you wonder for how long she’s been saving this.

Quick, does not hesitate. Teases very little, goes straight to it, and has you shaking and remembering nothing but her name in a matter of miniutes.

Stupidly skilled with her hands. They’re good for so many more things other than kneading dough...

Absolutely loves to hear your moans and other sounds. It urges her on. Please be as loud as you possibly can.

The sight of her large honey eyes looking up at you while she’s eating you out has to be one of your favorites.

But while she absolutely adores being the one to take care of you, she actually pefers it the other way around...

And you do too. Because, my god this woman is the cutest being in the universe when she’s flustered. And it’s extremely easy to fluster her.

All it takes is a smile, a kiss, a remark on how wet she is for you... and boom. You’ve reduced her to a mess of whimpers. She’s sensitive and easy to crack.

And it’s funny because all the while you’ll see her trying desperately to hold onto the propriety that she’s so known for. But soon enough it’s gone and she’s cursing and pleading.

You love to tease her because of this. She groans like she hates it but actually doesn’t, actually wants you to do it, draw this out as long as you can. It makes her climax much more satisfying.

She loves when u play with her boobs. Bite them, mark them, grab them, pinch them, maybe slap them if the occasion requires it...

Two words: Praise. Kink.

...Yeah she very obviously has it.

Tell her how well she’s doing no matter what it is that she’s doing. How good she is at taking your fingers down her pretty wet cunt. How well she’s sucking on your clit. It makes her feel like she’s in heaven.

And of course, tell her how she’s a good girl, how she’s your good girl. And watch her fucking dissolve.

(...yeah she’s quite a sub).

She’s into some other stuff... classics like bondage and the occasional spank, more adventurous stuff like wax play.

She likes sexual experimentation. She’d try most things once, just to have the experience, as long as they’re safe, sane, and consensual.

She has quite a bit of stamina and can last long, although she doesn’t exactly like cumming many times in a row or overstimulation in general. Instead, she prefers being edged until she can barely hold it in.

She also cries. It shocked you the first time, but... she cries when cumming.

And after you’re done, she’s always extremely tender and soft, wanting to cling to you for long. You always reassure her, tell her how good she did. Often you like to shower after, or eat something together. Cuddles after sex are mandatory but always remember to get up and do your necessities.

You guys don’t do it often, and don’t like to do it quick. The Jaehee motto is “If you’re going to do anything, do it how it’s supposed to be done” and that applies to sex. But that just makes the encounters you do have all the more special.

JUMIN

for someone whose only experience is having explored his best firend’s body once out of “curiosity” he’s surprisingly very good.

(JUMINV REAL i will die on this hill. i am cheritz actually.)

instinct-driven. doesn’t hesitate. takes you in whole.

composure and propriety thrown out the window, he will make you his. he’s gonna make sure that you forget your own name and only remember his, that you forget everything else but the feeling of his hands on your body and how he pounds inside you.

It’s not hard to get him going. Like at all. Just kiss him deep the way he likes it, grind agaist him, and bam.

He likes to tease verbally, you like grinding against my thigh, love? but not a lot. Eventually his desire to just have you wins him over.

It’s possessive, yes, but it’s his way of showing you just how much he wants you and no one else. You think of it as almost a privilege to be loved so deeply by someone.

Loves marking you, biting into you and then seeing the pretty purple bruises that from, that mark you as irrevocably his. Kisses you a lot during and after. A lot of You’re mines coming out of his mouth.

Also, he loves hearing your moans. And you love hearing his.

It’s actually very funny to tease him, because it’s very easy and he tries to make it subtle. Just push out your shoulder, watch as his face gets red and he swallows, struggling to keep his poise.

And then God save you, because he will not hold back...

You guys do it often. It’s a way for him to destress, so it’s almost a daily affair. A little quickie before bed and after waking up never hurt anyone...

Doesn’t like doing it in public, likes it when it’s just the two of you, though he for sure likes teasing you in public... You’ve given him a handjob in the limo in more than one occasion.

He’s averagely kinky. Likes bondage. Likes calling you his kitten. Likes slapping your ass when you’re both really into it. Not much beyond that. 

The dominant position is comfortable to him, he can let his desires run wild and free, and you like how he exerts his power, how he’s so confident. It almost lights you up.

Though he also has a strange, almost hidden desire for the other side of the coin... he likes being the one with the power taken away, too.

It always oddly attracted him, but he never paid attention to those desires, as they made no sense. But then you suddenly decided to be more dominant one time, and oh boy something awoke in him.

It’s not very easy for him to submit and let go. But it’s extremely liberating once he does so. For a man who has to be thinking and making decisions and bearing more responsibility on his shoulders than any person could imagine, being in a position where he doesn’t have to make any of the decisions is almost cathartic.

He likes being your kitten. Likes the sight of you above him, holding him by a leash and smiling, just as much as he loves the sight of you under him.

Likes impact quite a bit, actually. More on him than on you. It’s a little humiliating to imagine the heir of one of Korea’s biggest conglomerates being spanked raw. But that’s inexplicably a turn-on.

Likes latex a lot. The sight of you on it is pure art.

Also into shibari. Likes the intricacy of it, the protocol, the fact that it’s an art form.

Lot’s of stamina, doesn’t cum easily. Will always make sure you’re the one to finish first or with him. Prefers to cuddle after, sometimes for hours, tightly and in silence or with just a few words exchanged. It’s the act of bodies becoming one, of feeling being not said but expressed in the way his skin contacts with yours.

SEVEN.

Okay so wbk this man is a menace. This applies to sex too.

Most of the time, it’s sloppy and imporvised. Undeliberate, hands everywhere, kisses all over the face. He doesn’t think, and you don’t either. It’s almost funny.

A tease, just because he absolutely loves to see you riled up and begging for it. But, do it a bit aggressively. He’s a bit of a brat. He pushes, and wants you to push back and push harder.

He doesn’t need things at all to be fancy, he can have fun with very little. He’s creative.

But you know what his absolute shit is?? Roleplay.

He does it almost naturally. Has fun with it. Likes the performance element, the not being himself, the play. It’s a way for him to take advantage of all the costumes he’s kept form his agency days.

You’ve found him on more than one occasion just weasring a maid dress and pretending to clean... The indirect was caught and enacted upon.

He’s kind of a jack of all trades. He can top, he can bottom, he can take the strap and rail you until walking is an arduous task.

freak in the streets and the sheets. Truly willing to try anything once.

Pain enjoyer. Likes spanking you, and likes you doing it to him too.

Also likes overstimulation. Edge him, then let him cum, and do not let him stop... just let him go off like that.

Lots and lots of stamina. And also just fucking dies after. Does everything and then five minutes after he’s absolutely fucking spent. To you, it’s shocking. To go from being so loud to being so still...

Likes to kiss during foreplay, but not much during or after. Prefers to tease with words or just let the actions speak for themselves.

One thing about Choi Saeyoung: he’s a romantic partner and extremely entertaining lover. You can trust that stuff will never get repetitive on him. Always switching it up... in all ways possible.

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #mysmes #mysmen fanfic #mm fanfic #mystic messenger fanfiction #rfa #mm x reader #yoosung kim #kim yoosung #mysme yoosung #mm yoosung #yoosung x reader #yoosung x mc #mc x yoosung #mystic messenger smut #zen #hyun ryu #ryu hyun #mm zen #mysme zen #zen x reader #zen x mc #mczen #jaehee kang #kang jaehee #mm jaehee #mysme jaehee #jaehee x reader

[reifromrfa]

Short fic: Mafia AU | Jumin

I saw this artwork by @ranartinart and got inspired to write something short for my love, Jumin Han ;w; Thank you for your lovely art! :)

Reposted with permission from @ranartinart <3 Check it out here!

Wrote this fic while listening to this playlist ♪( ´θ｀)ノ

Trigger Warning: Violence

Story under the cut! This was purely self-indulgent haha! I feel as though I'm a little rusty with mysme so apologies in advance if it feels ooc ^^;; Enjoy~

★・・・・・・★

His precise steps against the marbled floor echo through the hallway. He isn't in a hurry; in fact, he takes his time, allowing the rage to bubble up inside him. He keeps his expression composed though, his head held high, his cold, steely eyes staring straight ahead, at the door on the end of the hallway.

Men and women bow to him as he passes, all of them avoiding his gaze. Finally, he reaches the door and his men open the door for him. Assistant Kang sees the man kneeling in the middle of the room, a few bruises already visible on his face and arms. She feels no pity for him, especially after he'd attempted to kidnap MC. Though MC was unharmed, Jaehee knows that this man will probably die here tonight. Honestly, he had a far better chance of surviving had he attempted to kill her boss, the mafia king of South Korea. But attacking his wife? His queen?

Jaehee looks at him with disdain as Jumin hands her his coat.

"Good riddance," she thinks to herself, turning on her heel. She makes a small gesture and the guards in the room follow her out, leaving Jumin alone with the man.

Jumin carefully folds his sleeves up, watching the man with cold, calculating eyes. The man glares at him, his hands bound behind his back.

"You motherfucker. You can't keep me here! They're gonna come lookin' for me! And when they do, they're gonna take you down, you bastard! You'll see. You're gonna be fucking sorry!" the man spits out, staring hatefully at Jumin.

Jumin arches a brow, continuing to fold his sleeves on his other arm. His voice is calm, low, as though he's having a casual conversation and not being threatened by this piece of scum. "Oh? I'd like to see them try."

The man becomes angrier, as though Jumin’s calm facade is somehow an insult to him. “Don’t you fucking know who I am, huh? I am—”

“You are irrelevant to me,” Jumin interrupts, crossing his arms as he looks down on the man. His expression darkens as he studies the lowlife who dared to touch his MC. Who dared to even breathe the same air as her. “I do not need to know your name, I do not need to know who you are, what you’re worth. All I need to know is this:

You meant to harm my wife.”

Jumin watches as a small smile appears on the man’s face. His jaw clenches as he holds himself back. Not yet, he tells himself. Not yet.

“Your wife? MC? Yeah, she’s a real beauty. I remember those scared cries she made when I grabbed her. I bet she sounds real good in bed, huh? I bet—”

The man never gets to finish his sentence. Instead, he has a split second to widen his eyes before Jumin’s fist collides with his jaw. The man hears a crack but it’s quickly forgotten as pain shoots up his cheek, his jaw. His head whips harshly to one side and he tastes blood in his mouth.

Jumin grits his teeth and grabs the man by his hair, forcing him to face Jumin again.

“How dare you talk about my wife that way. How dare you even utter her name with that filthy mouth of yours. You have no right to even walk in the places her feet have touched. You have no right to breathe the air she breathes. You have no right at all to LIVE in the world she exists in.”

The man attempts to scowl but it turns into an ugly grimace, his jaw throbbing. “When I get outta here, I’m gonna fuck her and make you watch, you sonovabitch!” He’s about to spit at Jumin Han’s face when Jumin releases his hair and hits him with an uppercut, effectively slamming his teeth together. Jumin steps back and watches as the man chokes on his own spit, violent coughs making his shoulders heave. Blood starts to trickle down the side of his lips, down his chin; to Jumin, that vermin’s blood is like coal that fuels the deep loathing he feels towards said vermin. He wants more, more of the man’s blood to spill until he is on the brink of death.

“What makes you think you’re getting out of here? Do you think that highly of your comrades? Do you think they would come for you…at the risk of becoming my enemy?” Jumin lets out a mirthless chuckle.

“You’re sorely mistaken.

No one is coming to save you.”

“Think of it like this…” Jumin yanks on the man’s hair again, pulling him to his feet. He leans closer. In a low, soft voice, he speaks to the man —like Death’s whisper to a dying soul.

“You’re dead to them. In fact…you’re dead to everyone. There’s not a person who would want to be affiliated with you now. There’s not a single soul who will even speak your name anymore. Because if they do, I will not only obliterate every trace of their existence from the world, I will also ensure that their life becomes a living hell. They will spend every waking moment in a dark cell, suffering, praying they were dead, and every time they close their eyes they will be plagued with nightmares of the pitiful, painful, pathetic life ahead of them.”

The man struggles to remain upright, his hands still bound behind his back as blood starts to soak the front of his shirt. A muscle in Jumin’s jaw twitches as he stares at the hideous expression on the man’s face.

“You asked me if I knew who you are? Yes, I know who you are. I also know where you parents are, your sister and her family, even the bastard son you’re hiding from your employer.” At his words, Jumin sees the man’s face pale. “Here, we place a high value on family. That’s why I sought to learn about your family.”

“If you fucking touch them, I fucking swear I’ll—”

“You’ll…what? Kill me?” Jumin’s eyes flash and his lips curl in a small, taunting smirk. “That’s what you should have done. You should have killed me instead of going after my wife.”

Jumin approaches the man and now, he sees the man take a small step back.

“You’re only fucking cocky ‘coz you’re beating up a defenseless man! You think this is a fair fight?!”

“Fair?” Jumin’s eyebrow arches. “Fair?” He tilts his head ever so slightly, looking at the man in disbelief.

“Why would I stoop to your level and make this fair?”

He takes another step towards the man and the man’s eyes widen as he takes a step back.

“I was born with every advantage…why wouldn’t I use them? To, as you put it, ‘make this fair’? Why? You certainly thought it was fair to take advantage of a woman who’s smaller than you…and now you call me ‘cocky’ for beating you while your hands are bound?”

Jumin closes the gap between them and delivers a swift punch to the man’s solar plexus. The man chokes and gasps for air, wheezing as Jumin throws another punch…and then another.

The man feels his knees buckle as his body topples forward. But before he can even fall, Jumin grabs his shoulders and pushes the man down at the same time raising his knee and driving it further on the same spot.

“Get this through your thick head,” Jumin says vehemently, now letting his anger take over. Gone is his composure, all he can see now is this man stalking his wife, touching her, laughing at her horrified expression, thinking about the terrible things he’d do to MC…all because she’s Jumin’s queen.

“Life will never be fair.” Jumin keeps his grip on the man, not giving him a chance to straighten. He slams his knee against the man’s abdomen and now he can hear the man wheezing hard, his gasps turning raspy, desperate.

“You and I will never be on the same level.”

“P-lea—”

Jumin scowls at the man. He dares try to interrupt Jumin? Jumin takes a slight step back before slamming the man’s face down on his knee.

“Shut up. You don’t even deserve to be talking. I’ll have your tongue cut out…eventually.”

Jumin releases the man and he falls to the ground like a pathetic rag doll. The man is still wheezing, taking in short, quick breaths. Jumin watches him struggle to breathe, a rush of satisfaction filling him as he sees the man’s bloody face, his nose broken, his lip busted, his eyes swollen and drooping.

But still, this will never be enough. There’s never a good enough punishment for someone who has ill intentions towards Jumin Han’s family. Especially his Queen.

Jumin uses the front of his shoe to push the man onto his back. The man’s wide eyes dart to Jumin as he starts to choke on his own blood. But Jumin merely places a foot on his chest and leans forward, putting all his weight on the foot that’s right over the man’s lungs.

“Now…I’ve established that I know you. But…

Do you know who I am?”

Jumin’s steely gaze never leaves the man’s face, his icy expression showing no hints of mercy. In fact, he leans forward more, pressing his foot deeper.

”I am Jumin Han. I am the most powerful man in Asia.

From now on, your life is in MY hands. If you breathe it is because I’m letting you breathe. But don’t worry, I assure you, breathing will be a luxury for you. Like I said before, I was born with every advantage at my fingertips.

I intend to use my power to make your life into something far worse than the hell you’ve imagined.

About your family…I won’t hurt them. Yet. It all depends on whether you cooperate or not. You may think this is a sick, cruel game…I want to assure you yet again that yes, this is my sick, twisted game for simpletons with a death wish.”

The man’s face is turning purple as he desperately opens his mouth to try to get air into his lungs. Jumin just stares at him for a few seconds, watching the red lines creeping into the man’s eyes. Jumin eases his foot over the man’s lungs and he waits until the man intakes a couple of short breaths before pushing against his chest again.

“You’ve made a grave mistake, turning me into your enemy…but now I’ll be more than that. I’ll be the demon that haunts your every move. I’ll be your personal Grim Reaper, collecting blood and instilling fear in you.

Every day.

For the rest of your meaningless existence.”

Jumin lifts his foot from the man’s chest and he gazes down at his work. The man has tears flowing down the sides of his face, bruises and cuts all over his body —at least, the parts that Jumin can see. Jumin is sure the man has a cracked rib or two as well.

To him, this punishment is still nothing compared to the trauma this pathetic idiot instilled in MC. But he’ll have to stop for now; he doesn’t want the man to die that same night. No…Jumin wants him to live a long, miserable life.

Without another word, Jumin heads for the door, where Assistant Kang is already waiting with a towel in her hands. Jumin takes it, wiping away the man’s blood from his hands.

“I want him looked at but make sure he’s bound tightly. Only patch up the wounds that are fatal. Then transfer him to our warehouse, put him in a coffin and make him think he’s going to be buried alive; I trust you’ll oversee this, Assistant Kang?”

“Of course, sir. I’ll send you a recording afterwards.”

“Good. He can stay there for the evening, but make sure to check the CCTVs in the coffin every now and then. I want him to live for a long time. In the morning, move him to a cell and only give him water. No food, no lights, no toilets, no requests. I’ll call you with further instructions tomorrow. Do I make myself clear?”

The guards around Jaehee reply in a rush, the menacing aura Jumin is exuding, scaring even them. Jaehee waves the guards towards the man and they get to work.

“Oh, and Assistant Kang?”

Jaehee turns to her boss, watching him holding the blood-stained towel. She never thought she’d be working for the most powerful man in the continent, but she’s also grateful that she is. There’s no mercy in Jaehee’s heart towards the man who could have taken someone precious from them, and she’s glad her boss can inflict the most damning punishment onto that man.

“Yes, Mr. Han?”

“Make sure that man or anyone affiliated with him will never get anywhere close to my wife. If they do, kill them. I want all our men to know that.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good. I’ll leave this to you, then. Have a pleasant evening, Assistant Kang.”

Jaehee watches him go, as though he didn’t just nearly beat a man to death. But at the end of the day, they’re all just pawns on Jumin’s chessboard.

She pities any fool who dares to take on the king and his queen.

★・・・・・・★

I hope you liked it! Thank you for reading <3 Don't forget to follow @ranartinart too <3

Check out my other Mysme writings here!

Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #jumin han #mysmes #jumin x mc #jumin #mysme jumin #jumin mafia #mafia au #short story #mysme fic #mm oneshot #mm jumin #ranartinart art #ranartina #please check out her works! #they're so inspiring <3 #fanfic #mm fanfic #mm fanfiction #dark fic #mafia jumin #violence

[jaeheeweek22]

✨☕️ The Jaehee Week 2022 Schedule is Here!

Hello! And, finally, welcome to…. Jaehee Week 2022! ✨💛

A creation event to celebrate Jaehee Kang’s birthday that will take place the least week of December, with every day having a new prompt.

Here is the schedule for this year!

The theme is “A word + a quote.” You can choose to create something based on both, or only one of them, or combine if you wish. The goal here is to inspire creativity!

Here’s a list of the prompts, for your convenience:

day 1 (25/12): mistletoe - “all my heart longs for, fulfill” [Immortal Aphrodite, Sappho]

day 2 (26/12): honey - “I cannot deny myself any longer.” [Una Llum Tímida, Andrea Puig & Africa Alonso Bada]

day 3 (27/12): arabica - “open your life, open your hands.” [I Don’t Want To Live A Small Life, Mary Oliver]

day 4 (28/12): cupcake - “love liberates. It doesn’t bind. Love says I love you.” [Maya Angelou]

day 5 (29/12): film - “the lights go off and that’s when I know you.” [Una Llum Tímida, Andrea Puig & Africa Alonso Bada]

day 6 (30/12): dance - “I bet you could sometimes find all the mysteries of the universe in someone’s hand.” [Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, Benjamin Aliré Saenz]

day 7 (31/12): ring - “under the water, I know of a timeless place.” [Una Llum Tímida, Andrea Puig & Africa Alonso Bada]

Any and all creations are allowed! Whether it’s fanart, fanfiction, graphics… so long as it has Jaehee as the main focus, everything is welcome. Go crazy go wild!

Please, tag your creations with #JaeheeWeek22 as well as the day, so for example, #JHW01, #JHW02.. etc. If you post on ao3, please use this tags too.

You don’t have to submit everything in the day. It’s okay to post a couple days late, this event is just for fun! So, don’t stress about it.

…And that’s everything. If you have any questions, please send an ask, and we’ll be happy to reply.

Hope everyone has fun during this week, and happy early birthday, Jaehee Kang 💛✨

#mystic messenger #mysme #mm #mysmes #kang jaehee #jaehee kang #mysme jaehee #mm jaehee #jaehee mystic messenger #mc x jaehee #jaehee x reader #mcjaehee #jaehee x mc #reader x jaehee #mystic messenger fanart #mm fanart #mm fanfiction #mystic messenger fanfiction #mm fanfic #jaeheeweek22

[juminsmysticmc]

hiii!❤️❤️lets be honest, we all thought that you would pass it:D this idea came quite unexpectedly😭 mc is most of the times a foreigner, right?? like I believe she would struggle a lot and especially at Jumin’s business parties. But it’s funny indeed when I think that Jumin would help her and teach her some words. Tbh I don’t even know what I am supposed to request based on this plot.. Could you write about mc just being a foreigner and Jumin teaching her Korean, please?

Jumin teaching a foreigner Mc korean

Hello! Noooo I didn’t believe in it, really! I actually have some problems at work and so I was praying every night I would pass to have a higher graduation…now I feel better, ahahah! But thank you so much for believeing in me! I hope you will enjoy reading this One Shot, please tell me your opinion! Have a nice day too!

Once again, you stood in the middle of the room on your own, looking around with an uneasy look on your face. You were scared, nervous, and at a total loss. Korean wasn’t your first language. You were American and so you were fluent in American English, however most guests at these parties didn’t care to speak English with you, even though they were just as good as Jumin. Your husband arrived with Jaehee behind him as he just returned from a conversation with a highly respected investor before he came closer to you. ,,What’s wrong, my wife?’’ he asked you. His English had improved a lot, ever since he was forced to talk to you in English. You, on the other hand, still didn’t do much. Even though you planned on learning Korean, you were still a mess. ,,Nothing, Jumin,’’ you mumbled back. ,,I feel odd and out of place. No one is talking to me. I think I need to study Korean some more,’’ you nodded. Jumin looked at you with a soft smile before he nodded and told you that he could either hire a teacher or teach you himself. And since he was your husband, you agreed to him teaching you Korean.

,,Can’t I study Hangul after I learned the language?’’ you asked him, unmotivated as you sat in front of him while he was trying to show you some signs. ,,I think, my love, learning both at once would be better for you,’’ he said and tried to teach you the basics again. You tried step by step once again, tried to stay focused on him and follow him during his ,,lessons’’ and indeed, you seemed to learn pretty quickly. ,,Hello, how are you?’’ you said in Korean to Jaehee when you saw her again, making the brown haired woman really happy.

You could keep up with basic conversations by now and no one, not even Jaehee, believed that Jumin was that much of a good teacher. ,,I’m telling you, he is very patient. He explained things to me two to three times and made sure that I could use them too in my daily use. He even prepared stickers all over the house to help me understand the names of different gadgets,’’ you tried to assure the others in your group, feeling more than proud to be able to say that your husband was the one helping and teaching it to you.

ᗰᗩᔕTEᖇᒪIᔕT

14.05.2022 // 00:35 MEST

#jumin x mc #Jumin #jumin han #jumin x reader #mystic messenger jumin #zen hyun ryu #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #saeyoung choi #luciel choi #saeran choi #jihyun kim #Vanderwood #Headcanon #Mm headcanons #mystic messenger headcanon #fanfiction #fanfic #mm fanfic

[ha-bloody-ha]

I'm still poking away at the latest story in the Mysterious Tales of the Strange and Uncanny series. This one features some goings-on at the University of Toronto in 1905, and I managed to find digitized copies of the yearbooks from that time. This picture is from Torontonensis volume VII, 1905. The whole book is a hoot.

#murdoch mysteries #mm fanfiction #mm fanfic #canadian history #i really do plan to finish this series #i have big chunks of the last few stories written #and even a rough outline for them #books on legs #this is nightmare fodder

[and-so-he-rambled]

I slipped and made another Mighty Med au…

Where Skylar is an alien accidentally stuck on earth and Kaz and Oliver are med students trying to get by, and their worlds collide.

(An alien a little less human looking, enough to be noticeable, but human passing. Maybe cute lil antenna they have to hide.)

She’s very oblivious and amazed by everything while comparing it to her home, but also badass and a warrior on her planet. She has no idea of human customs and has lots of quirks.

Oliver wants to help her and keep her safe, Kaz just wants to be a college student and not get hunted down by the government. (He’s also jealous, normally he’d be down to hide an alien from the government)

As med students they’re older and less rash, but still the same boys under the exhaustion and loan debt.

They have a wacky emotional adventure where they all see the good in each other and run from the government goons she escaped from (the annihilator? Villains? Horace?) and trying to get her home.

Will she stay? Will she leave? What do they discover about themselves? Who knows! Endgame Skaziver.

#mighty med #lab rats elite force #kaz mighty med #oliver mighty med #kaz mm #mm #oliver mm #kaz #kazimeras #kaziver #skaziver #mm au #mm fanfic #mighty med au #kaz lref #oliver lref

[snarky-magpie]

My very, extremely fluffy fic about Shiro and Keith reconnecting ten years after the war. No angst, just two old friends spending a day together and realizing there's more between them than a simple friendship.

You can read it on AO3.

#shiro #shirovld #shiro voltron #takashi shirogane #keithvld #keith kogane #keith voltron #sheith #sheith fanfic #mm fanfic #ao3 #ao3fic #sheith fluff #romancefanfiction #second chance romance

[antiochean]

bleeding paint - banter #2

Hi! BP is the title of the rewrite of V's route and after ending that I'm working on, where V is not romanced. Posts tagged banter will be just that - drabbles between two characters that you can read in any order and nothing too plot-heavy happens. I do them to get a feel for the characters and they're a lot of fun to write, so I thought I'd share!

This one is mostly Jake. It contains one reference to banter #1 (the remarried parents line), but otherwise works as a standalone.

Pairing: CMC (Jake Park) x Vanderwood

Setting: the cabin, around what would be day 9

Warnings: swear words; baked potatoes heavily featured

Word count: 1,148

[Madeline Miller, Song of Achilles]

"You want to send..." one of Vanderwood's eyebrows is arched as they look at me. "Emails?"

"...Yeah?" I don't get the confusion. Every day I send emails. "I mean, I just wanted to know if one of the laptops would be free any time soon, if not it's absolutely no-"

"No, no, it's not that, it's just that..." Their eyes return to the laptop screen and their right middle finger skillfully goes about its business on the touchpad. "I mean, the cult's still actively looking for us, and you just got out of a hostage situation. People who get out of hostage situations usually want to, like, call their family..." could it be that they know this from actual experience handling these people? It's funny that their highly adrenaline-heavy and probably sketchy profession only comes up when briefly mentioned like this - and, just like that, it's gone again. "Not send emails."

I let out a short, weak chuckle.

"If you knew the amount of emails I had to send while the cult still had me," I slide my fingers underneath my glasses and rub my burning eyes. "You'd be horrified."

"That charity gala they're making you organize?"

"Mostly. But also college stuff. I'm more worried about the college stuff right now."

I have been confronted with the reality that the cult that kidnapped me is making me coordinate a charity party several times before. But I'd never heard those words coming from someone far removed enough from the context to really grasp the absurdity of it.

I feel almost... ashamed? Do I fear Vanderwood will assume I'm partially to blame for the absurdity?

Sometimes I wish I could pretend to be a little more normal in front of them.

I wish we could have met at the grocery store. Gone for the same box of cereal at the same time.

"Go ahead." They push the laptop away from themselves and get up. "I've been meaning to get some more sweet potatoes anyways."

"Yeah man, thanks. Go get your proteins."

They pass me on their way towards the kitchen and I take their seat. I hear the metallic sound of the oven opening up - I open incognito mode - and their voice coming from past the archway.

"Still. Your priorities surprise me sometimes."

"What, cause I'm still doing college stuff right now?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," I employ my mocking tone, "tell me you don't have Asian parents without telling me you don't have Asian parents. If I was still in the cult when the term started, my dad would still give me a hard time about missing it."

The caramel scent of the baked potatoes fills the room as they return.

"Wait - that's right," they take a seat on the table across from me, "you're on spring break right now." Two parted baked potatoes with spoons dug into their orange meat. One for them, the other set down neatly by the laptop. And I try my very best to hide the smile I feel coming up, because - what were their exact words again? 'You're pretty bad at pretending you don't care'? And the response that's been echoing in my mind ever since: it takes one to know one. God. I open my inbox. "Do they still have you do 'college stuff' while you're on break?"

"It's - uh - it's thesis stuff," I reply absent-mindedly while I scroll for the email containing the museum contact information. When I look up from the screen, their eyes are fixed on me, and I realize they're expecting me to continue. "It's - uh..."

"You don't have to tell me." They break eye contact. "I didn't mean to pry."

"No - hey, I pry into your shit all the time. It's only fair. I'm just kinda... slow right now." I blink hard. "Anyways, my thesis. Have I told you what it is?"

"You haven't."

"So basically... I'm building a timeline of autobiographical - I mean, basically it's letters and journal entries from the Vietnam War. Some museums and Estates hold those as like museum shit. Right? God fuck it I'm doing such a bad job at talking right now." I let out a nasal laugh. They smile. Like, proper, both corners of their lips curved smile. Their laugh lines become visible to me for the first time ever - they stretch downwards towards their chin a little, and I have to put conscious effort into not melting into my seat like a shoujo anime girl. "Uhm," Right, words. Verbs, nouns. I find myself rubbing my eye again. "Historical artifacts, is the term I was looking for. To be able to see some of them, you have to schedule viewings in advance. That's what I'm trying to do right now."

"You have to schedule viewings? Never heard of anything like that."

"Yeah. I've already had a couple of those, and the conclusion I've come to is that some families don't want word to get out about the war crimes they were doing just a generation ago."

"I see. You've chosen a pretty lighthearted theme for your thesis."

"Tell me about it." I stretch my arms over my head for a second. Then, I grab my sweet potato. "If I had to choose a topic today I'd have picked something infinitely more fluffy." I was a different person when I started working on this. A completely different person. "I wonder if you could write a thesis about - what're those books you like - A Song of Ice and Fire."

"Several."

A natural silence as we eat. The sun is almost completely covered by the treeline we can see from the window at this point. I put the half-eaten potato back down and wipe my hand on my sweater.

"Gross. Who raised you?"

"Happily remarried middle-class parents."

I rub my eyes - again. I gotta stop doing that, it's probably not good for you. They're really tired and dry and uncomfortable. I'm holding my eyebrows up just to keep them open long enough to finish this goddamn email business.

"Hey, look, you look like shit." Their tone of voice is completely neutral. Two in a row, though? Just say you have a crush on me. "Remember what I told you in the car."

You said I was being stupid and inefficient, and that I needed to take the advice I was giving to V about wearing yourself out while trying to help others. The bottom line was that you want me to eat and sleep enough.

"I do. Thanks, mom."

"You know what? That one was on me. I was too nice." With one elbow on the table, they lean over and seize my sweet potato. "No sweet potato for you."

And, 'you bastard,' I think. Because now i have no choice but to grab your arm to stop you, and I'll be thinking about it for the rest of the week.

#vanderwood #vanderwood x mc #mystic messenger #mysme male!mc #jake park #mm fanfic #drabble #oneshot #vanderwood x male mc #mystic messenger custom mc #my writing #banter #fluff #bleeding paint

[hikomato]

[Fanfic | Mystic Messenger] The Alternative Universe - Master view

A Mystic Messenger Longfic Mystic Messenger: The Alternative Universe Author: me! (D.E.A.T.H – 13) Status: On-going Rating: PG Categories: sci-fi, romance. Disclaimers: Mystic Messenger’s characters belong to Cheritz Co., and other characters and the story plot belong to my imagination. Please cite credit or contact the owner when using this material. Author’s note: This fiction novel…

View On WordPress

#MC #MM #MM fanfic #mystic messenger

[nell0-0]

Based on a fic called Melody !

I really like that author's way of writing these two, so if you're looking for some Mask/Time + Warriors stuff, definitely go check it out ^^

#linked universe #lu wind #ww link #lu warriors #hw link #lu mask #lu time #oot link #mm link #tloz #tloz fanart #pre lu #post lu #(only for wind/tune) #melody of the eras #my art #inspired by a fanfic

[kangjaehee]

you know, more confidently.

In their Christmas Eve lunch, Chaeyoung debates if she should kiss Jaehee under the msitletoe.

for @jaeheeweek22  day 1 - mistletoe.

title: you know, mroe confidently

pairing: jaehee/main character (CMC: Min Chaeyoung)

rating: general

word count: 2965

tags: christmas fluff, a little bit of internalized homophobia, the mcjaehee matching jewerly agenda

CHRISTMAS EVE WAS IN FULL SWING, and Chaeyoung had to admit, she was feeling more festive this season than she’d had in a while. 

Perhaps the ongoing Holiday promos at the café had something to do with it. She had spent her entire week huddled in the kitchen with Lily, baking order after order of cakes and cookies. At this point, she was dreaming of gingerbread and elf hats and Santa and reindeers. The movie sessions with Jaehee, she thought, were another addition. 

Perhaps Jaehee was the biggest change from last year’s Christmas to this one, she thought. Back then, it would’ve been hard for her to imagine she’d be spending her holiday season sleeping over at Jaehee’s house more than once a week, cuddling and watching their favorite Christmas movies, baking their favorite things in the morning, stealing kisses between it all. 

They had started dating recently– it’d be a month soon– and every single romantic Christmas song had acquired a new meaning. She dedicated every single one she heard to Jaehee, as well as every Christmas movie, every little moment. This was their season, their month: they had confessed to each other on a cold night the first of December, and all of their kisses tasted of peppermint and cocoa. 

Work had wrapped up for the day– only a half day before their Christmas break for people to wrap up orders– and now they were headed for lunch at one of their favorite restaurants. This would be one of their first ever actual dates, not counting the many nights they’d already spent at each other’s houses. It made Chaeyoung giddy. With enthusiasm, she closed everything on the café, even taking Jaehee’s hand as she closed the door like she was picking her up from her house, an instance that made them both giggle. 

They drove, gossiping about the chatroom and the people of the café and whatever would happen tonight when Jaehee went to dinner with Chaeyoung’s family, an instance they were both nervous for but looked forward to. Jaehee’s fingers found Chaeyoung’s in stoplights, and they laced their fingers together, and Chaeyoung would look up and smile until Jaehee dis that shy little laugh that always gave Chaeyoung butterflies. 

This was really quite the feeling. They felt like a real couple now that they were doing couple stuff, going to lunch dates after work for quality time like the grown women in their mid-twenties that they were. Chaeyoung found it hard to describe, but she quite liked it. 

The place was not too crowded– an elegant Italian restaurant in a culinary district of Seoul, and a decently popular date night spot, though Chaeyoung figured, to their luck, that most couples would choose to go out at night. This was good, they’d get their food faster. 

“I think we should try the pizzas this time around…” Jaehee mused as they approached the place. “I have heard great things about them.”

“I wanted to do that, as well,” Chaeyoung said. “How about a margarita?”

The frown Jaehee gave her was sudden and comical. “I believe it’s a little… early for such a drink, Chaeyoung.”

Chaeyoung snorted. “I mean the pizza. It is way too early to have margaritas… I was thinking something like wine would be better for now…”

Jaehee scoffed, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “I still believe it is a bit too early for any drinks at all… I’d rather not be drunk at midday.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you get drunk with half a bottle…” Chaeyoung cocked an eyebrow. 

Jaehee’s eyebrows were on her hairline. “Alright, rude.” When Chaeyoung laughed, more irritated, she said, “Okay, first of all, I am not that lightweight. Don’t exaggerate.”

“Baby,” Chaeyoung looked down at her, softening her approach. “Are you going to forget Wednesday’s events?”

“Oh, please, Chaeyoung, that was Pinot Blanc…” she scoffed, an indignant frown on her face. “I was bound to get at least tipsy.”

“You were much more than tipsy, let me tell you…”

“Alright…” she said. “I suppose I could use some wine… it’s Christmas, after all. But I will go light.”

Chaeyoung nodded. “Sounds good to me.” She wondered, silently, if tonight would be any similar to Wednesday… She figured not. Jaehee would’ve learned her lesson after that quite… revealing and eventful evening in the chatroom. She would not want to repeat it again, though Chaeyoung would be amused. 

They had finally arrived at the entrance, having parked a few blocks away. “There’s a mistletoe…” Jaehee said. 

Chaeyoung looked at the door. There was one indeed, hanging right above it. “Would you look at that, there is one…” she said, thinking of how many kisses had been shared under it this season. The waiters would surely be amused by them, just as she was with every kiss at the door of their café. 

Jaehee didn’t move, so Chaeyoung decided to, going ahead and opening the door for her girlfriend, who regarded her with a somewhat dumbfounded look. 

“Go ahead, my darling,” she said with a playful tone, and Jaehee gave her a little smile and stepped inside, without meeting her eyes. 

It was only when Chaeyoung had closed the door and they were walking to their table that Chaetoung realized her grave, grave mistake. 

Oh. Her face was suddenly as red as her hair. 

She did not talk at all once they sat down, to embarrassed with herself to even get a good look at Jaehee. Sometimes, Chaeyoung could be very stupid. She knew this. She was keenly aware of this character flaw, evidenced by the many times Jaehee had, though also without knowing it, flirted with her, and that she had not caught. “Women have to be much more careful when approaching other women…” She had attributed that quote to anything but a romantic intent– misplaced misogyny, the emotional carefulness women were known for that men usually lacked, literally whatever except attraction, until she thought about it months ago, when she was starting to realize her feelings for Jaehee. 

Well, at least now she was slightly faster at picking up the clues. A couple seconds later in comparison to a couple months was quite the development, wasn’t it…?

“We’ll be having the medium margarita with a chardonnay, please,” Jaehee said once the waitress had come to take their order. Chaeyoung ordered water for herself, and the waitress was off. 

“I didn’t know what to get your mother for Christmas…” Jaehee said after a while, and Chaeyoung understood that they were dropping the matter of earlier. “I got her a perfume… I hope she enjoys floral scents.”

“I don’t think they allow that at the hospital, but her perfumes are usually… light and sweet.” Chaeyoung said. It was funny, actually, how well Jaehee seemed to get along with her mother. She had met her when the café opened, and ever since Chuseok, they seemed to have hit it off quite well. Sometimes Jaehee and her would casually talk on the phone about matters that had nothing to do with her. 

Chaeyoung was, all in all, happy to see it, although she did find it confusing, as anyone probably would. She treated Jaehee like a friend and sometimes like her own daughter… which was probably why Jaehee leaned onto her. Chaeyoung knew of her turbulent history with older female figures after her own mother’s death and, with that in mind, was happy to see her have this. And perhaps it might make the revelation of her relationship– and of her own self– easier, when the time came to do it. 

The wine arrived, the waitress pouring it on their glasses. Although they were very much in a casual setting, neither of them bothering to dress up for the occasion, Jaehee still looked very elegant with the browns and golds of the restaurant behind them, her cream turtleneck, the red wine, her slightly pinkened cheeks. 

Chaeyoung had an idea, and raised her glass. “A toast,” she said. Jaehee, with a cute, eye-smile grin, did the same. “To us.” 

“To this… blissful and beautiful new beginning,” she said, “And to many more Christmases together.”

They clinked their glasses and Chaeyoung found herself reveling in this moment, the normalcy of it, the cliché of being a couple lunching together on Christmas, toasting their relationship over a glass of Chardonnay. She wanted to have many more of these moments: couple trips, dinner dates, strolls along the bay, shopping for an apartment and furniture for it. 

It brought her this calm, peaceful happiness to think about it. She was never the sort for clichés, never desired a romance that looked like everyone else’s. Never was the black tie date night, white dress bride sort. With Minhyuk, they had wanted to do love their own way, craft their own version of romance and see what that looked like. But with Jaehee, she was eager to do love the way everyone else had done it, because it would still be irrevocably theirs. 

Shuffling on Jaehee’s purse took her out of her thoughts. Carefully, she pulled out a small box. “I wanted to give you your present…” she said, honey eyes regarding her earnestly, and holding out the small blue box. 

“Oh my goodness…” Chaeyoung was grinning widely when she took the box. She recognized the store, and knew it was not a cheap one. “This is…” 

“Open it,” she said, playfully in a way where Chaeyoung couldn’t help but indulge her. 

With as much care as Jaehee pulled the box out, she opened it to reveal a rather dainty rose gold necklace, with a pink stone etched in a frame that looked kind of like a sun. Chaeyoung couldn’t help but gasp lightly, drawing her fingers through the stone. “Jaehee, this is gorgeous…”

She couldn’t say it fit her jewelry style, as she preferred thicker chains and bracelets, but she could not deny its beauty. Aesthetics be damned, she wanted to wear it forever, simply because Jaehee had gotten it for her.

“It’s a rose quartz,” Jaehee explained. Her cheeks were a similar shade of pink. “Associated with tenderness, comfort, and joy. I figured it was the appropriate stone to represent who you are to me.”

Chaeyoung had a giddy, lovestruck grin on her face, and if they weren’t in the middle of a restaurant, she would pull Jaehee in to kiss her right now. This woman and her attention to detail always touched a very special part of her: the way she made sure everything had a place, a meaning, an intention. She left no stone unturned, and it marveled Chaetoung, making her heart smile every time. 

“And.. lift it up,” Jaehee said, so Chaeyoung lifted the little foam piece. There was another necklace identical to it. “It’s a set of two…” Jaehee said. “I don’t know if I should have consulted you about this, but I wanted to–” She huffed, the way she always did when she was flustered. “I wanted us to have something… that– bonded us, if you will, and I’ve always liked the idea of matching pieces.”

Chaeoung’s smile wasn’t going away anytime soon, and now she was closer and closer every second to damning the restaurant and just going over to Jaehee and kissing her. “No, I love it,” she said. “That way, I’ll always carry you with me… it’s adorable.”

Jaehee was now smiling like a fool as well, turning away just slightly, as if she didn’t want Chaeyoung to see. This woman was too cute in every single way a person could be cute. She was going to make Chaeyoung melt one day. 

“Will you help me put it on?” she asked, having taken out the necklace. “I’ll help you with yours.” It only felt right. 

Jaehee nodded and got up, and Chaeyoung did as well. She turned, pulled up her hair, and Jaehee very carefully placed the necklace around her neck and clasped it. “There you go,” was her cue for her to turn around, as well as Jaehee’s hands ghosting over her hair. Only then did she realize how heavily her heart was drumming.

She parted Jaehee’s hair softly away from the nape of her neck, although her layered haircut made the task a bit more challenging. But, with all the tenderness the stone symbolized, she managed to do it after one failed attempt that resulted in giggles, and when Jaehee turned around, the necklace fitting her like a glove, the pink stone shining bright and that same brightness reflected in her eyes, Chaeyoung felt her breath stop. 

She wanted to kiss her– do something, her lips were aching for a part of her body. Her lips, her hands, her forehead that was so easily accessible. But Chaeyoung stayed frozen in place. She didn’t know how Jaehee felt about public displays of affection, she got nervous even when Chaeyoung stole cheek kisses from her at the bakery. But there was this burning fire of expectancy, and oh, she wanted to… 

She eyed the mistletoe, where a couple had just shared a quick, chaste kiss. Perhaps she would kiss her there once they left. Perhaps then she’d be brave enough. 

“Let’s sit back down,” Jaehee said, and with that, the moment was gone. Chaeyoung meekly went back to her seat and took a sip of her wine. 

The pizza came not long after that, and it was delicious. Thin and with pools of mozzarella that made a delightful combination with the green leaves characteristic of this flavor. She would admit, though, that it would’ve been better with a rosé or sparkling white, the Chardonnay a bit too… punchy for the meal.

For dessert, they had tiramisu, one of Jaehee’s favorites, with espresso. The one this place made in particular was creamy and sweet, which made Jaehee, between pink cheeks and laughter, wipe cream from Chaeyoung’s tinted lips. Yes… Chaeyoung was going to kiss her later. 

The wine was left half-drunk, the bill was split, and they both left the place, breath tasting like coffee and cream and grapes, spirits high for the rest of the holiday– the fact it was their first as a couple just added to the giddy mood– and new matching pendants on their necks. 

Chaeyoung found herself freezing when she got to the door, movements suddenly jittery and heart suddenly racing. She remembered everything that had happened in the past hour and a half: the indirect, her obliviousness, Jaehee’s disappointment, the necklace, her hands, her eyes, her breath as she was close to her. She craved her, the brutal softness of her ministrations, and the mistletoe was right there and so was Jaehee, she could literally just pull her by the lapel of her coat and kiss her, but…

Still, something stopped her in place. The great monster that was insecurity, that sometimes precaution could be. As much as she wanted to wrap Jaehee in her arms and take her as hers in this very place, at this very moment… it would be selfish. She didn’t know if Jaehee wanted this, if she was or was not going to be made uncomfortable by her moves, by a display of them where anyone could see. 

For now, until they were sure, until they were comfortable… it would be better if these moments remained only between them, in the corners of their spaces where few people could see. This thing with Jaehee was something precious and sacred, something that could not, by any measure of the imagination, be ruined, and if she had to swallow her desires at times, she would. 

So, with heavy regret that was exposed in her steps, she began to move away from the door, leaving this moment and its many doubts behind, there would be another one, it just wasn’t meant to happen now, it was fine. 

But then, “Wait…” she heard Jaehee say, brightly. 

Chaeyoung turned to see her, still under the door, a wide, closed-lip smile on her face. 

“What…” she said, frozen, expectant. 

“...Come here for a second.” Jaehee’s words were an open-armed invitation, exuding a sort of calm confidence that pulled Chaeyoung in like a magnet. 

Slowly and very nervously, with her heart drumming in her chest, she approached the door, never breaking Jaehee’s gaze. She had always loved her eyes. Big and honey-colored, they sparkled from within with wonder and glee, like there were sparks dancing behind them. 

She was now standing face-to-face with Jaehee, close enough to feel her coffee-and-cream breath, aware of the plant right above them. 

And then, very carefully but without a smidget of hesitance, she brought her hand to cup her cheek, got on her tiptoes, and kissed her on the lips. It was perfect, sweet, as tender as the stone that had come to now symbolize their love prescribed. 

And Chaeyoung was beaming.

Rushing with an adrenaline that to her was not very well-known, euphoric, powerful, she could swallow the world entire. She cupped Jaehee’s face with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist, pulling her closer, and kissed her back. Really kissed her, making sure to taste the tangy sweetness of her mouth that by now she knew so well. And she did not care at all about the holiday or the restaurant or who was looking. Whoever looked would look. 

“Merry Christmas,” she said after she pulled away, a few seconds later, still holding Jaehee close to her. 

With her thumb, Jaehee caressed Chaeyoung’s cheek, and she closed her eyes, leaning into her touch completely, pressing her forehead to hers. She wondered, for the millionth time perhaps, how she had gotten so lucky to trip upon this woman. 

Jaehee whispered against her lips, voice made of marshmallow fluff: “Merry Christmas, my dear.”

#jaeheeweek22 #jhw01 #mystic messenger #mysme #mysmes #mm #jaehee kang #kang jaehee #jaehee mysme #jaehee mystic messenger #mm jaehee #jaehee x mc #mc x jaehee #mcjaehee #jaehee/mc #mystic messenger fanfiction #mm fanfiction #mm fanfic #mysme fanfiction #my stuff #my writing #idk who else will post on this little challenge but be aware that I Will

[jaeheeweek22]

Hello, and welcome to Jaehee Week 2022! ✨🤎

Don’t forget, if you decide to participate and post, to use the tags #JaeheeWeek22 and the number of day!! (#jhw01, #jhw02… etc etc)

Hope everyone has fun with the prompts!! Remember: it’s not mandatory to post on the day. This challenge is just for fun, so don’t stress about it! You can still submit stuff for the challenge until 2 weeks after it’s finished.

That’s all, we’ll be seeing you around, and Merry Kangmas everyone!! 💛✨🎅🏼

#💌 #mystic messenger #mysme #mm #mysmes #jaehee kang #kang jaehee #mysme jaehee #mm jaehee #jaehee mystic messenger #jaehee x mc #mc x jaehee #Jaehee x reader #mm fanfic

[juminsmysticmc]

OMG OMG OMG REQUESTS ARE OPENNN

okay okay, I don't know if you did this before, but, can you do RFA + V + Saeran with an MC who had a motorcycle accident? or RFA + V + Saeran with an MC who wants to ride on motorcycle with them

(you can choose what request to make from these two ^^ )

RFA + Minor Duo with a MC who had a motorcycle accident

Hello there! I‘m a big fan of things being exciting so I guessed I would mix it up a bit! For Zen‘s part, there’s already a One Shot about Mc having an accident so his is a bit different! But I will hope you will enjoy it!!

Ps.: Go here for Zen’s One Shot!! 

Trigger Warnings: Mention of accidents, hospitals, blood, near death experience, amnesia

Jumin

,,My love, are you sure that after having three hours of driving class your skills are enough for you to drive around?’’ Jumin asked you while he nervously observed you climbing on top of the red motorcycle he just bought you.

You wanted to feel free, drive, make your hair flip over and feel the wind hitting your skin.

He was afraid when you first told him your wish, but he would never forbid you from doing anything so he made sure to buy everything: classes, a helmet, a motorcycle…

But your bravery was just too much for him to take.

His heart was beating so crazy it was almost choking him, hurting him.

He was panicking, but he knew that he had to stay calm so that you could be just as free as you wanted to be.

,,Jumin, don’t worry. You’re just too scared. I did well, he said it himself. Besides, I won’t drive quickly or on any dangerous streets. Just ten minutes,’’ you smiled.

He heard what you said and he stepped away.

He let you go, despite his guts screaming.

Ten minutes passed. Ten minutes and twenty seconds, thirty…. one minute more.

Time passed and you weren’t coming back.

Jumin had sweaty hands ever since you started the motorcycle and the fear he felt wasn’t improving.

A sudden call shocked him. His world was falling apart when he heard the ringing of his phone and his soul left his body when he saw your injuries once he arrived at the hospital.

A car didn’t see you and crashed into you on your way home.

Your head was bloody, bandages over your body, and the beeping machines were preventing Jumin from falling asleep.

,,No matter what injury, as long as you wake up, Mc…I will be happy with everything…Just wake up,’’ he begged, in tears.

Those tears didn’t stop even after you opened your eyes and apologized for being late.

Zen 

,,Are you sure that you can teach me how to drive yours?’’ you laughed when he tried to explain the basics.

,,Yes, of course, Princess. Don’t you see how good I look in my teacher’s uniform?’’ he asked you. his smile was blinding you.

Zen poked his lenses - the one he put on to look like one - and looked especially good in his green sweater.

,,First of all, the symbols, for -’’ you laughed and cut him off. ,,Excuse me, Mr Teacher, but I do know the street symbols. I do drive a car after all,’’ you smirked.

,,Lady, do not cut me off while I teach you something,’’ he joked as he approached you and grabbed your chin, sweetly kissing you before he showed you how to climb on the motorcycle and start the engine.

,,This here,’’ he said, moving his hand and showing you something, ,,are the brakes. In my opinion, really important,’’ he smiled, looking deeply into your eyes.

He was worried and you knew it.

He told you more than once that he was scared that you would hurt yourself and that something would happen.

But he also knew what you meant when you described to him the feeling you had while driving with him and that you wanted to feel it for yourself for once.

,,We need to practice turning. If you turn too quickly, you could hurt yourself badly…I will show you how I do it and how I learned it in my driving lessons…and then…I don’t know…I am scared that you would hurt yourself…’’ he repeated.

However, he was surprised that you managed to do so well.

Just, when you practiced stopping and almost fell over, his heart stopped.

You weren’t hurt and nothing happened to be honest.

He was just startled because of the sudden movement.

But this was enough for you to beg to get off and enjoy the last few hours with him, resting and cuddling.

And he didn’t fail, thank God, or else he thought he would die because of his heart stopping.

Yoosung

,,You know, I think biker men are really hot,’’ you suddenly said while Yoosung was cooking you dinner, his shirt dirty with some spirits of the food he was cooking when his eyes suddenly turned around to see yours.

,,Am I….not cool enough for you?’’ your husband asked you and you guessed that you just hurt his feelings.

You quickly tried to deny what you just said and told him, better said, you tried to explain to him that you just read a book about biker boys.

A sexy love story.

With this, Yoosung was at first at ease, even though it left a bitter feeling.

But ever since you read your book, you were more and more interested in driving a motorcycle.

At the same time, without you knowing, Yoosung tried his best to get informed about how to become a cool biker boy. He, being madly in love with you, wanted to satisfy your needs and so, both of you actually found out that you would like to try it out.

Both of you quickly talked to each other and managed to get on the same page, read through books since you guys loved to be informed of things you liked and watched a lot of videos on YouTube to understand how to handle a bike.

It took you both a while, but you also quickly joined a motorcycle club and came to love the new freedom you gathered.

Jaehee

,,Again, I have to pay a bill again because I wrongly parked the car,’’ you groaned angrily.

The issue was that your car was too big to fit in little places where you had to quickly halt to bring coffee or cake to your customer who ordered from home.

This made you do a lot of things you actually weren’t allowed to do and in the end you always had to pay your own bills.

Jaehee always felt sorry for you because she knew how stressful the whole situation was for you.

One day however, you had THE idea:

,,You want to drive a motorcycle, to bring takeaways?’’ she asked you when you finally told her your idea.

She was almost hyped up herself - except for the fact that neither of you knew how to drive one.

,,Yes! And I will study and join a club, talk to people who drive one, and join driving classes! I think this will be much better than now, like, everyone in the city uses one!’’ you told her, sure of your idea.

And this actually made Jaehee sure of your own idea, agreeing with you.

You had even less time and honestly Jaehee had the feeling that your new hobby, because this happened, to make you feel so much better about yourself than before, took a lot of time from you and made her feel lonely.

But when you finally were able to drive one, the first thing you did was take her on a date and drive to a place where no one could have reached with a car, making her see the best sight ever.

Saeyoung 

His eyes were closed as he held your hand to his forehead.

He was praying. He didn't know to whom he was praying, but he hoped that anyone would listen to his prayers and help you.

To let you live, make you stay alive.

He saw it, the sight of your crash, the head which hit the hard cement, the screeching sound of the motorcycle and the metallic smell.

The impact.

He was how you lost balance, perhaps you were too quick, you also could have been too slow. Whatever the problem was, something made you fall over and you somehow got into an accident right in front of his eyes.

You got hurt, you fell, and closed your eyes.

Saeyoung by now was crying, begging, sobbing for your awakening.

The RFA behind him was useless. No one could help you or support him.

,,Saeyoung…’’ you groaned, suddenly, making his body shiver, his eyes immediately on you, his hand still holding yours.

,,I think my motorcycle is broken and needs new wires,’’ you groaned as a headache was haunting you.

,,I will never ever let you on one again if you scare me this badly…how could you try to leave me here alone? I would die here without you…’’

Saeran

It was a week after you had your license, a week after you were allowed to drive a motorcycle, and a week after you bought your own, made you the happiest as you were begging him to drive with you for a long time.

It was a week ever since Saeran congratulated you on your license and a week since he had an odd feeling.

And finally, it happened.

His worst nightmare, the worst thing that could happen happened.

Not only was his twin in danger, his life threatened.

Not only was Saeran abused by his mother and drugged by a person who raised him.

No, the universe almost killed you when you got into an accident.

The paramedics told him that they didn’t know how you survived.

They were surprised by your will and Saeran was touched by the beeping sounds that showed him in the hospital that not everything was lost.

But knowing that you almost died because of something you really wished to do, made him feel sick.  

He almost lost you and you almost left him.

The worst thing about the accident was the fact that you could have amnesia.

Perhaps for a short time, maybe longer.

But after Saeran saw how you were connected to the machines and almost died, he changed his whole point of view: as long as you would live, happy and sound, without any injuries, he would even be willing to let go of you.

Of course he would feel even worse, but ever since he feared your death, being someone who was once in your life would be better than you dying, that was for sure.

But Saeran still didn’t know that his worst case worries would never become real…

Jihyun

Just around your birthday, you mentioned your new love for motorcycles, your interest in them, and the hope of driving one one day.

Jihyun was of course a good listener, but also rather hesitant about this topic.

Hoping you would actually quickly stop talking about it, Jihyun tried not to say anything about your new love, but of course this wasn’t the key to communication and a good relationship so one day, he dared to share his thoughts with you.

,,I don’t think you should ride one,’’ he said, hesitant about his words.

It was in the evening, Lucy was asleep, both of you were on the couch, and you were watching something about motorcycles.

You looked at him and tried to understand what he was trying to tell you, as well as what he actually meant.

,,When Zen had his accident…imagine what would have happened if I wasn’t there that time? What if something like that happens to you? What will I do? Lucy needs you, I need you…I love you and I wouldn’t want to lose you.

The two years we were apart was already hard for me, despite us not knowing each other for that long.

Having to be a lifetime apart from you…Mc, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself,’’ he said, meaning everything.

He honestly shared his thoughts.

However, you weren't that sure about it.

,,Accidents can happen anywhere at any time. I understand what you mean and what you want to tell me, but I also think that you should give me the chance to at least try once,’’ you said, approaching him.

Jihyun still didn’t like the situation, but both of you knew how to handle it and were working on it.

ᗰᗩᔕTEᖇᒪIᔕT

17.10.2022 // 22:02 MEST

#trigger warning #motorcycle #motorcycle accidents #Headcanon #Mm headcanons #mystic messenger headcanon #mystic messeger headcanon #fanfiction #fanfic #mm fanfic #jumin han #jumin x reader #jumin x mc #zen hyun ryu #zen x mc #zen x reader #jaehee kang #jaehee x mc #jaehee x reader #Yoosung Kim #yoosung x reader #yoosung x mc #luciel choi #luciel x reader #luciel x mc #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x mc #saeyoung x reader #707 x mc #707 x reader

[whispering-about-the-tmnt]

Some headcanons regarding TMNT physiology

Over the years, I have come up with some headcanons regarding how I believe the Ninja Turtles' bodies work. I thought that perhaps it might be nice to finally share them with all of you.

These don't apply to all the iterations, of course, but they are pretty well universal in my mind, and I tend to incorporate most of them into my fanfics.

The Turtles (like leatherback sea turtles, echidnas, and some dinosaurs) are mesotherms, meaning they are neither warm nor cold blooded. They are, instead, in a middle-ground: they internally generate heat, but not to a constant temperature. In the Turtles' case, they will shiver when cold, and their bodies will not shut down right away when the temperature dips too low, though they may lose some energy and find it hard to concentrate.

Unlike many other modern reptiles and amphibians, who have a three-chambered heart, the Turtles have four-chambered hearts (like mammals and dinosaurs) that are larger and stronger than average human hearts and located at the center of their chests.

While the average human blood capacity is around five liters, the Turtles have about seven. Much of the blood flows under the shell -- a remnant of their lives as ordinary turtles, whose own blood does so in order to warm them when they bask. This means that the Turtles could lose close to three liters of blood before dying, while a human would only be able to lose two.

Their blood is also highly efficient at clotting, but that also means that storing blood for transfusions is difficult, and so must be directly transfused from one turtle to another in emergency situations.

Owing to their extensive circulatory system, they also have a larger lung capacity than humans and more oxygen-rich blood, and so are able to hold their breath for extended periods of time without adverse effects. Other than this, the Turtles' respiratory system is very much like humans', utilizing a diaphragm to inflate and deflate their lungs.

Like regular turtles, they do not have ribs, but rather their carapaces and plastrons serve that purpose, and they have muscles under their shells that keep their internal organs right where they belong.

Also like regular turtles, their spines curve along the insides of their shells. A direct hit on the center of their shells, then, could cause damage to their spinal column and nervous system, but fortunately their vertebral shields offer a fair amount of protection, so it would take quite an impact.

The Turtles are highly resistant to most infections and diseases, which increases their immunological responses. They do not get sick easily, and they recover quickly.

While their scales are not apparent, they are integrated into their skin, making it tougher than human skin. It takes a very hard hit to raise a bruise, and it is difficult to cut through without a very sharp or pointed blade.

Their bones are similar to humans, but are more resistant to breaking. They also heal quicker and stronger if they are broken.

Their muscles are also very close to human-like, but they are stronger than an average human due to compensating for the extra weight they carry in their shells. Because of this, their ligaments and tendons are also tougher, and it is difficult for them to have a joint dislocated.

Their sense of smell is more acute than humans, but not to an extreme degree. They are also not as bothered by foul smells (though this has more to do with living in a sewer than their physiology).

Their eyes are a bit tougher and more resistant to damage than human eyes due to a protective membrane that covers them. They see a bit better than humans in dark places and underwater.

Their hearing is somewhat more attuned to lower frequencies than human hearing, and is not dependent on external ears but rater an internal auditory system (making direct damage to their hearing unlikely).

They are capable of being knocked unconscious, but it takes a significant impact. Permanent or lingering damage to their brains is unlikely due to their structure, and so they also do not tend to suffer the same side-effects that humans would in the same circumstances (nausea, memory loss, etc.).

Although their nutritional needs are similar to humans, they do not need to eat every day, and in fact can get by quite well without food for a week if necessary (though they won't enjoy it). When food is readily available, however, they will eat as much as possible to store up energy. Their metabolism does not slow down when they do not eat, so overexerting themselves when they haven't had any food for a while can burn them out suddenly.

Their sleep schedules are much like most diurnal animals, though they are able to stay awake for extended periods of time and can get by on little sleep, if necessary. There have been times when they have been awake for days on end, getting by on short one hour naps here and there. In general, though, they like to have a regular sleep/wake cycle.

Like other reptiles, the Turtles never stop growing throughout their lifetimes; however their growth is slow, topping off at about 1-2 inches every five years.

Does anyone have anything they would like to add to the list? I actually had fun compiling it!

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #ninja turtles #fanfic #fanfic reference #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles trailer #rottmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2007 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt vs batman #tmnt comics #tmnt mutant mayhem #tmnt mm #whump #whump reference #tmnt 1987 #tottmnt #tales of the tmnt

[and-so-he-rambled]

The MM/Lref au I’ve been busy with

What is the Love and War au?

It’s an au that follows the lives of Kaz, Oliver, and Skylar through the years. It starts with them leaving to fight the war on Caldera for two longs years, in where they grow closer and discover that they need each other.

Upon returning home they battle mental health issues and recovery, learning to be people again instead of soldiers. Oliver takes over partially for Horace and hangs up the cape after seeing too much fighting, while Skylar and Kaz stay heroes. Connie Valentine gets a degree and becomes a professor, Kaz stays an on call doctor.

They decide to marry, and seven years later the events of the fic Waiting For Superman happen where they reminisce about who they are and their story.

Then in the fic Emily they decide to adopt, and a new chapter of their lives begins.

Love and War was an accident when I realized I could combine multiple aus to create a life story! Some details need rewritten, but I like the idea of getting to follow an entire life story through multiple works. Being 18 and fighting a war and falling in love, 20 and getting married, 27 and adopting. Of overcoming ptsd, relationship struggles, stress, and life together.

It’s an au near and dear to me.

#love and war au #skaziver #mighty med #kaz mighty med #lab rats elite force #oliver mighty med #mm #kaz #kaz mm #oliver mm #kazimeras #skylar storm #kaziver #lref #mm fanfic #mm au

[undercoverpena]

anytime

javier peña x f!reader

summary: “Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper. Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing the place where the hair sits atop his lip. “Anytime, cariño.” “Anytime, really?”

wordcount: 3.1k. warnings: fluff. bestfriends to lovers. banter. reader wears a dress and has a gloss on lips. no physical description. javi calls reader solecito as a nickname only. likely warnings for spelling as i wrote this on my phone. an: huge thanks to @wildemaven for creating this moodboard (pls go show it some love), letting me make a banner from it, and then letting me write this for Javi instead of Frankie. bby, i hope you like this.

Javi had never been good at avoiding challenging situations.

For the longest time, he’s been finding himself in the centre of a whirlwind—whether in Bogotá, Cali or apparently even back home.

You, his friend, best friend—a well-kept secret, tucked away in his chest, not shared with a soul when he was away. You were a thing that he’d clutched close to his chest from the moment the two of you had first gotten close, through his failed engagement and even more so when he left for Colombia. You, in all your understanding, hugging him, telling him he’d be great, amazing, the very best.

Both of you were younger then, less worn down by life, its many obstacles and all the other things.

You best not become best friends with anyone over there, Peña. As if anyone could annoy me as much as you, solecito.

In the brief interim of his return, you hadn’t appeared all that different. You may have had a job, a house—drove a slightly better car than when the two of you were staying out at all hours—but you, at your core remained very much the fucking same.

Still just as understanding, as kind. A person who got him, without really needing to try.

For Javi, the best thing—outside of you being you and the monthly calls you made him promise to keep when he was drowning in murder, drugs and Escobar—is that you never ask him about it. Any of it.

You had always let him pretend, escape, listen to you fill him in on gossip—things such as disagreements over the size of rhubarb and whether someone was having an affair. A thing you did even when he came back. Even more grateful for it then, when he grew tired of the questions, the compliments, the everything.

Its why he didn’t tell you when he would land back in Laredo for good. Just waiting, standing outside your place, leaning against your car as you walk down the street—eyes brushing over him, pausing, before he gets to see that smile. That signature fucking smile.

When he’d left the first time, he remembers how you’d lingered near your car, unwilling to climb into your bright yellow death trap—the entire reason he called you solecito to begin with—wearing the beginnings of that smile even then.

The difference is now he knows that there was something under it. Hidden, held back, kept from him.

It’s why it meant so much to him when he saw it in all its glory, all alight, blooming and somehow healing.

He can’t explain it, but it repairs strands inside of him. Your presence alone continuing to do so when he meets you for lunches, coffees, and late-night drinks. In exchange, he makes you laugh, your head thrown back as he tells you about whatever he did on the ranch—all of it comical, apparently. Because the idea of him, Javier Peña doing ranch work brought tears to your eyes.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” you splutter, taking a mouthful of your beer as you narrow your eyes.

Nodding, he leans back into the booth, arm stretched out, picking and picking—the label crumbling from the sweating bottle. “Yeah. Bet you’re upset you don’t get to see me herd cattle and mend fences.”

“Oh, yeah. One-hundred-percent.”

Shrugging, he grins—an easy task with you. A thing that has always been that way, even when he turned up at your door when he couldn’t get married; even when the two of you sat under the stars when he told you about possibly going to Colombia. You still made him grin—even when things weren’t fucking easy at all.

“I’ll add it to my to-do list—visit Peña on the ranch—it’s currently sat under finding a dress, a boyfriend and the will to fucking live.”

Snorting, he traces his bottom lip with his thumb.

Your face scrutinises him, before rolling your eyes. And he just waits—because you always spill eventually.

One. Two. Th—

Fine, you huff, before it unravels from you. How the wedding of your work colleague is close, closer than I thought and you’re tired of attending these things alone, circled like a fucking fish by single sharks.

And he’s listening, taking it in. Trying to not wince at how high-pitched you’ve got as you’ve ranted.

Mainly, Javi finds there’s more questions rising than answers provided.

One singular one rising to the top. A thing he’s wanted to ask for the last few weeks. Not in a rude way, or in the way it burns inside his chest when he talks to you on the phone and he has to bury it. But, it’s there, bubbling, wishing to escape and know. It's even louder when the two of you are like this, crammed in a space, laughing, smiling, sharing, wondering—

Why are you even single? How are you?

You’ve mentioned people—names, here and there when the two of you had been on the phone. Them fluttering out before you can pull them back, but then they’re forgotten. Javi, I get one call a month—let me tell you about the cattle war going off. And, in a way, he didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to know, so he never asked.

Now, it’s all he wants to ask.

Because you’re… you. You’re brilliant, beautiful—funny, clever, witty. And yet—

“—so, now it’s a week out, and I need to find a dress, a date and drive there to watch another person I know get married.”

He knows he should busy his mouth with the bottle—wrap his odd idea in beer. But, that part of him—the one which wants to help, solve issues, and be useful—rises up in him like a phoenix left from the ashes of Colombia.

“I’ll go with you.”

He expects the pause, even braces for the look of shock.

He doesn’t expect the smirk. Doesn’t expect the way it spreads out, to hit your eyes. How under the low-bar light over the table, it makes your eyes glimmer and fucking shimmer.

“You want to go to a wedding with me?”

Shrugging, he picks off the last part of the label—the mess of it all circling around where the glass meets the wood.

Mirroring him, you shrug. “Alright.”

“Alright.”

He should take his eyes off you, but he finds he can’t.

Javi hasn’t been able to since you stepped out of your place, a handful of your dress as you locked up—stepping down your steps to his car, letting it flutter down to your ankles.

You look like a fucking dream.

A thought he knows he shouldn’t have—but has all the same. His heart staggered, half-halting in its hammering as his hands paused in their drumming on the steering wheel; his glasses slid down his nose, his skin suddenly warm all over, even if his jacket was already splayed out across the backseat.

Close your mouth, Peña.

I’m chewing gum, solecito.

Yeah, that’s why your mouth is open.

It hadn’t passed his notice that you were good-looking before today. He’s known you were, had always known it—he had eyes, after all. But, he’d always felt there was a line. A line the two of you never delved too close to step over. The sign above both of your heads already illuminated in bright bulbs and flashing lights:

JUST FRIENDS.

Until this, anyway. This thing that can only be described as the longest one-hour drive he’s ever been on. And he used to do recon with Murphy.

Because you’re teasing, taunting him. All in that usual way that you do. And it’s so easy to flirt back, to let line after line roll, but he has begun to spot you squirming.

Doing so while matching his suit in a deep brown shade—chosen by him, ‘pick a colour suit, Javi’. Adding a tinge to some of your comments—things that if said by someone that wasn’t you, he’d ask them (flirtingly) if they were coming on to him.

But with you, it’s something he can never be sure. Never something that can be completely understood, known, cracked or figured out. In the same way, he can’t understand how your perfume keeps following him. How it embeds itself into the cabin of his truck when he picks you up, sews itself into his clothing when the two of you meet—and right now, is attempting to bury itself in his skin, muscles, and bones.

“You’ve been abnormally quiet.”

Smirking, he snorts. Fingers smoothing out his hair as he swings into a spot—the tyres crunching over the gravel. “Have I? Or have you just not shut up.”

“Rude.”

Laughing, he cuts the engine—hands resting on the top of his thighs, not missing the way your eyes follow his movements before clearing your throat. It shifts something in him, makes a little part of him surge, like the smallest of fireworks suddenly erupting in his chest.

Something he forces himself to shut down the moment you shove open your door, slipping out, as he grabs his jacket.

“Do I need to be worried about you crying today, solecito?”

Rearranging your dress, and slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder, you squint as you stand tall, hand covering your brow as you meet his gaze.

And fuck, with this backdrop, even squinting, you look beautiful, radiant, stunning all over again. Somehow his brain having forgotten when you were next to him, when you were acting as if this was the most normal fucking thing they’ve ever done.

It isn’t.

Something he’s becoming more aware of as his throat goes dry, and his thoughts slow to nothing—

“No, you’re good. Your mouth is open again.”

You say it with a smirk, all teasing—making heat lick up his spine all over again. And, if you were anyone else, he’d have already pulled you close, tilted your chin up, and likely smothered your mouth with his.

But, you’re his friend—his best friend. The one solid thing he’s had in his life since he became a name, a poster, a hero.

“C’mon,” you say, turning on your heel as you head in the direction of the entrance, him following, jacket slipping on as he mutters mouth isn’t fucking open under his breath.

Even if he knows it was. Even if he’s desperately trying to stop his eyes from descending down to your hips, eyes fixated on the way you walk with ease to the wooden sign which greets all the guests.

He knows, due to his absence from home, there haven’t been many weddings he’s attended. Least of all like this. But even he thinks this is over the top, suddenly understanding why you hadn’t wanted to come alone. Because grand doesn’t quite cover it—not after the last one he’d attended.

This one has flickering candles lit in the day, waiters all set to hand glasses of bubbles and offer little mouthfuls of flavour on silver trays. Then, there’s the backdrop—the enormity of the building, only for you to tell him that it’s an outside wedding.

It’s more of a comfort as to why his hand drops to the small of your back than anything else. A need to be rooted, to feel calmer as he nods at passing people he doesn’t know (and hopes don’t know him), feeling you curl into him subconsciously, your bag swinging between the two of you both—affording a gap, forcing it, in fact.

The ceremony will start soon.

He overhears it, as he assumes you do, because your fingers wrap around his wrist—taking it from your back, before your palm meets his, and then you’re guiding, leading. Dragging him. All willingly to the back of the building where he sees it—the makeshift aisle. A wooden arch, and lots of deep orange-brown chairs all line up on either side of an orange aisle.

“Glad we chose brown now,” he murmurs.

“Does it make you think, y’know—being at a wedding?”

He swallows. Because it’s a loaded question.

One he assumes has been sitting all politely on the tip of your tongue since you sat beside him in his vehicle. It’s why his eyes watch you carefully as you grab the two of them a flute each from a passing waiter. Handing it to him, adding nothing—not rescuing him. Just waiting instead, doing that thing you do, where your eyes widen as you wait, trying to look all innocent even though it’s you who has just dropped a live grenade into the centre of the conversation.

Shaking his head, he snorts. “No. Not really. Knew… I knew deep down it wasn’t right. Her… and me.”

“You got any idea what’s right?”

You take a sip this time when the question lands, it again sparkling in glittered innocence, the softest of smiles pressed against the glass.

You he thinks. But he swallows that away and says ‘Not a fucking clue’ instead.

Throughout the day, he’s been desperate for a reason to stop looking at you.

So far, he’s found none.

Bits and pieces of things Murphy used to say, the words he’d drop into conversation when talking about his wife: how he knew, why she was the one, all coming back to him in drips and drops.

It dawns on him, the same as it had done since before he went to Cali, that you might mean a little more than a friend. A lot of what Murphy used to say, so easily applied to how Javi felt about you.

You make him feel calmer, create a space where he can relax, really unwind. It’s easy, uncomplicated, when he’s with you—from the conversation to the things he thinks. Complex balled thoughts stretch out until they’re in easy-to-decipher lines, able to process, able to understand.

He even told you about the boats.

A secret he’d have been prepared to take to the grave, if not for the fact you pointed out he wasn’t sleeping. Your eyes watching, pleading, don’t lie to me. And fuck, he couldn’t—not even if he wanted to.

That should have been the first sign.

He guesses he should be thankful today has been stuffed with more of them. One after the other. From the way you made sure to make him a plate of only his favourite things, to the way you knew when he needed a bit of space from the thousand questions as to how you both knew one another, and what he does.

Now, Javi is on the sidelines, admiring you in a way that makes his heart double in size.

Your dress skims around your calves as you dance—your arms rising above your head, glee stitched itself from cheek to cheek. On occasion, time halts when your eyes land on his—stealing whatever thought he had, only resuming normality when you close your eyes, belting out the lyrics to the song.

Mainly, the thought he finds which keeps returning is: I wanna do this with you again. any place. any time.

A hollowness scratches out in his chest as he lets himself acknowledge it. A thickness growing in his throat, a sorrowness weighs down on his shoulders as he nurses his glass—hand in his trouser pocket, telling himself he should be content he got to be on your arm, got to have you against him during a slow dance over an hour ago. That he gets to see you smile, hear your laugh—even know you.

“Hey, Peña.”

“Hey solecito.”

You grin—a little breathless, the music having changed, becoming slower, softer—wrenching the glass from his hand as you drain it.

“Fuck me. Y’thirsty?”

“Very. You’d know if you had any rhythm.”

He pinches you, lightly—teasingly. Your grin shifts into a laugh, tucking yourself in against him, arm around his back. And fuck, the way you’re looking up at him, he wants to warn you.

If you look at me like that, I’m going to kiss you.

Javi wonders what you’d do if you did. Whether you’d pull away, hissing the two of you are friends. Or whether you’d kiss him back.

“Want to get some fresh air?” you ask, your words against his ear—lips so close to ghosting his skin.

“Sure.”

It’s cooler when the two of you step out from under the marquee, the music getting quieter when your fingers loop in his, guiding, easing him around plant pots and tall trees, until the two of you are descending marble stairs and past iron fencing, to take him to the perimeter, to the view looking out over the city.

He watches as you step forward, fingers around the iron fencing, leaning, staring out as you let out a heavy sigh. One laced with things he wants to ask for, tug it from you, let you unload whatever is weighing on you—because that’s what you both do for one another.

You make it easy.

Make it all bearable.

But, whether you mean to, or not, you shiver. A light one, barely noticeable by most—but he isn’t most. His fingers are already at the button, undoing it, sliding his jacket down his arms before he places it over your shoulders, watching your head turn, meeting his gaze.

“You look really pretty.”

Flicking your eyes down, you smile. Sweetly. Unreadably. “Well, you’ve always been pretty.”

“Pretty?”

Laughing, your fingers tug his jacket closer, burying yourself in it. “The prettiest, Javier.”

Leaning beside you, he feels the metal from the railings, you’re both resting on, cut into his palms. He wonders if you feel the same, your dress billowing in the gentle breeze as the two of you stare off into the distance, spotting the flickering lights of a city, of homes tucking in for the night.

Then he turns his head, finding you already watching him, studying him in a similar way as you were before.

And, he lets his eyes drop to your mouth. A sign. A signal. It’s not the first time, usually, he does so when you’re not looking, letting himself trace the curve of your lips. Now, he stares at the way your gloss has long since gone, left behind on glasses and straws.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper.

Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing where the hair sits atop his lip.

“Anytime, cariño.”

“Anytime, really?”

Nodding, he swallows. A thousand things he’s thought, and felt, all rushing to the surface—unwilling to bury itself, to descend under the usual guilt and feelings of inadequacies when it comes to you.

“I’d do anything for you.”

Smirking, you tilt your head. “Anything?”

Biting your lip, he feels it—something thrumming in him, being plucked.

“Will you kiss me?”

“I could…”

Your brows rise, a louder cheer coming from inside, but it doesn’t do anything to tear your eyes away from the other.

The whole world could slowly vanish from around the two of you, and all he’d want is just to stare at you.

“But?” you ask, delicately.

Almost so softly, it makes his chest ache.

Dipping his head, he lets his gaze wash over the place again—the rolling land, the trees, the houses in the distance.

“If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You slide closer, shoulder to shoulder, eyes scorching his jaw, his neck, the side profile he can feel you tracing with your gaze.

“Then don’t,” you say.

His neck almost cracks with the quickness of his movement, his eyes scanning, reading, a part of him wanting to step back, and protect you. Because he’s not sure about the parts of him you’d find easy to love—

“You don’t know what you’re—“

“Don’t care,” you interrupt, fingers twitching on the lapel of his jacket. “I know you—Javi, not Agent Peña. I know the boy who cloud-watched with me when my parents wouldn’t stop fighting; I know the man who told me to stop sending him postcards from the town shop—but also whispered that he liked them.”

Snorting, he smiles.

“So, if you want to, no pressure—but, I think you should kiss me.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you bite your cheek. “Think you’ve wasted a lot of time not kissing me already, honestly.”

Of course you do, he thinks. And then he kisses you, palms on your cheeks, slanting his mouth over yours.

And fuck, it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever done.

an: honestly, this made me so fucking happy to write.

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