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hannahwashington · 3 months

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ALSO IM JUST NOTICING YOUR HEADER IMAGE. I LOVE IT SO MUCH gundham danganronpa and crash bandicoot (is that his name im sorry) real. also btw feel free to talk abt th emountain experience bc i dont think i ever asked yet

YES HIS NAME IS CRASH BANDICOOT ive honestly BEEN waiting for someone to comment on my header it is one of my favourite images ever (thanks @horatios-mom). it's like a sequel to the era when i had lesbian crash bandicoot as my icon. i'm only through the prologue of sdr2 but i have been obsessed with gundham for Years,. i barely know the guy but i love him. i will Know More Soon. and trust i will be So mentally ill about him and also the series. i already Am i am just waiting to finish the games to post about them.

anyway MOUNTAIN EXPERIENCE. OH BOY. where to begin.

let me take you back to a time when a wide-eyed 17 year old Archie got traumatised by a mountain. sit back, relax, and follow along my recounting of an experience i found so horrible, i had to vent by projecting onto my favourite blorbos at the time. Don't worry, I am more than comfortable with sharing this story, and with hindsight know exactly where to direct my anger with what happened.

It's March 2020. I'm in my second-last year of high school. every year my school takes the people in this specific grade to a leadership camp to teach a variety of skills and stuff to prepare them for the next year, when they will be school leaders basically. this leadership camp happens to culminate in a hike up the Drakensberg, where we sleep overnight, then come back down and go back home.

To be Quite frank. I was Very Excited for this trip. the more school-related activities not so much, but getting the chance to hang out with my classmates outside of school and the hike were what excited me. I'm not the most fit person, but i loooove me a good nature walk.

So it's a few days before the hike. they take us out to a bunch of activities and it's pretty fun. we did an adventure park thing and i was in the middle of a massive tarzan fixation so when i went on a giant rope swing i did his iconic yell. there were ziplines. once when i went down a line i forgot to brake and SMACKED into the mattress on the tree. so that was fun. here's the thing though. they made us walk everywhere. and these weren't easy strolls, they were hikes in and of themselves. i can't speak for anyone else, but the days leading up to the hike were PAINFUL. my feet were so fucking sore and we hadn't even gone near the mountain yet.

Then they hit us with the "yeah we're pushing back the hike by a day because it's gonna be pissing buckets tomorrow." which, duh, of course it's gonna be pissing buckets, it's the drakensberg, it's kinda known for that. but also, that means another day of walking, another day of worsening the condition of my feet. i felt like sam from death stranding when you let him walk barefoot everywhere. it's around here where you might start recognising elements from the fic snippets i posted, by the way.

so the next day like the absolute ass he is, the headmaster (who joined us for. some reason) made us hike up a mini-mountain to 'prepare us' or something. he was a horrible person for completely unrelated reasons and this logic is totally and completely backwards. anyway, after THAT nightmare, we went tubing down a nearby river. this WAS fun. i went down the river multiple times even though my feet hurt like shit. i had to get my fleeting joy somewhere during this trip-turned-nightmare. everyone had fun except this one girl who was not lucky at all. at the end of the river there's a small drop and 99% of the time when you get there you fall out of your tube. she was one of these people, and was really unlucky as she ended up cutting her foot on a rock. she had to be pulled out of the river by a few of the boys.

now then you would THINK she would go home because of this. kind of a bad idea to hike up a mountain with a cut up foot. but no, like the madwoman she is, she decides to pull through. i respect her so much for it.

Anyway, next day comes, my feet are basically throbbing so bad it's like my heart practically lived in them, not even to mention the soreness in my legs. again - i was NOT fit. i was so nervous i could barely eat breakfast. i tried to twist it into something positive by being like "tehe i'm going up a mountain like my favourite teenaged blorbs" but it really was Not helping. sooooo we get to the foot of the mountain and get ready to go. a couple of girls left and missed the hike because they had a netball tournament or something. to this day i wonder if they realise Just how lucky they got.

This is the part i remember most vividly. the Worst part. we set off on our mountain adventure, and i repeat this mantra: keep pace with the person in front of you. which goes great for all of two minutes until like a whole five days of walking absolutely nonsensical distances catches up to me and i slow down and down and down until everyone has passed me and oops! i've stopped completely. my legs are Begging to be put out of their misery and i am Rooted To The Spot. to cut a long ass panic attack short eventually someone comes back to pick me back up and Get Me Up This Stupid Mountain. it wasn't sam unfortunately, it was the drama teacher, but he was a pretty cool person and probably most comforting adult there, so perfect to deal with me in that moment.

he tells me about setting little goals for myself, like finding a specific rock and making my way to it. break the whole hike down into thousands of little baby steps. this way, i actually started to make progress, little by little, until we break the tree line. i can't remember if this moment was in the snippets i posted, but i look up and see the rest of my classmates above me, and when they notice us they start whooping and cheering and singing break my stride (which is kinda the theme song of the trip, ngl). i was still kinda in hysterics so i yelled at them to shut up. looking back, i appreciate it so so much. anyways, the drama teacher and i carry on with our baby steps.

when i've calmed down enough i start talking. i can't remember if he told me to talk to get my mind off of things or if i started on my own, but in any case i just start talking. i know specifically i brought up treasure planet - my all time favourite movie - and he told me he hadn't heard of it. another fanfic snippet moment here: i did, in fact, rant to him about midsommar. i remember specifically talking about the daylight horror aspect and how the black bars could've been white instead to emphasise just how bright and sunny the film is. also at some point we passed random people on the road who didn't speak english and for some reason, to this day i still have no idea why, the drama teacher told me that he thinks those dudes were drug smugglers and using the trail to get drugs over the border. anyways.

eventually, after so, so long, we make it to the top. not the end of the hike, far from it, but the vertical climb is over. you see, this specific trail has like two hours of a horrible vertical climb, but after that, it's a basically-flat trail. not that that would make it any easier but anyway, i thought that the worst was over. from our position we could see the rest of the group, who were all resting by a fork in the path - a significant landmark. eventually we catch up to everyone, and if my fic is to be trusted, everyone started clapping and cheering and singing again, this time 500 miles (hardy har). this is one of the only details in the fic where i can't tell whether i made it up or if it's actually based on what happened. when i sat down, guess what, legs wanted to shrivel up and die, what else is new, but what really struck me was that Literally Everyone Was In The Same Position. some were crying. some were staring into space with cold, dead eyes. Nobody was having a good time. how foot-cut girl was even still here was what shocked me the most. again, CUT IN HER FOOT, it was PRETTY SUBSTANTIALLY SIZED. even so she did Not look good.

drama teacher had gone to talk to all the other adults about our (my and the injured girl's) predicament. we were in No position to carry on with the hike. (i'd argue nobody was but i digress). it was a full-blown argument from what i remember, and when the adults tried to talk to us they kept on interrupting each other. one kept trying to offer a way down, but another teacher (who championed this leadership camp btw, to put this into perspective) was Adamant we continue and simply sleep at the closer campsite.

You can probably guess what ended up happening.

The break just honestly made me feel Worse about moving, and my mentality obviously wasn't the best, and i sorta just really started missing home at this point, but i had to keep going. since it was flat this time i could actually keep some sort of pace, though head leadership camp teacher complained whenever i slowed down too much (actual villain of the story in hindsight). eventually we make it to one of the campsites.

Here's how the camps worked. every year the group split into two - boys and girls - and rotated each year on who went to each of the two campsites. one camp was by a river, the other by a cave. so, one year the boys would go to the cave and the girls to the river, and the next year they would switch. this year the girls were supposed to go to the cave. guess what. it's the further camspite - a good extra... i dunno, hour of walking? obviously injured girl and i couldnt do that. issue is, you need a tent to camp riverside - we obviously didnt have one. however someone, an actual god among men brought an extra tent with him. i never spoke to that kid. but he made it so we didn't have to suffer as much. so i hold a sort of affection for him.

so, the group splits and we finally, FINALLY get our chance to rest. properly. let me tell you, river water has never and i mean NEVER felt so good. i think i spent like a solid hour soaking my feet. the boys - who. somehow had energy after all THAT - made a dam out of rocks. one guy was taking pictures. i never took my own pictures of the mountain, even though the view was beautiful. i was in too much pain to care. i took a Single picture related to the hike itself, and i'll share that at the end of this thrilling tale. that evening after dinner, i snacked morosely and watched at least half of happy death day on my phone. maybe an episode of unbreakable kimmy schmidt, though i don't now for sure about that one. injured girl and i shared that extra tent.

oh yeah, and guess what. it ended up pissing buckets during the night. shocker.

anyway the next day comes and the walk back is worse. one of the other teachers decides to use 'tough love' on me - which was basically yelling at me and failing really badly at being encouraging. honestly would have preferred being tossed off the mountain instead because it just made me Very Distressed but anyway. what was nice was that this time for the walk injured girl and i were at the front of the line setting the pace. and also two of the boys, two absolute GENTLEMEN were walking with us and leading us. you know me, i'm a lesbian, but god i could've kissed them for what they did for us. (i did not but you get my point).

surprisingly the vertical climb down was the easiest part. the really, really vertical part anyway - which was mostly near the top. so easy that a few boys raced ahead of the group... and ended up taking a wrong turn and getting lost. more on them later. when we dipped into the treeline it felt like we were so close yet so far, SO close to ending this suffering, but every single turn without the tar road in sight made me fall deeper and deeper into despair. i think i literally yelled out "MERCY!" at some point. anyway when we did finally get to the road i started crying as we made our way back to the bus that would take us home.

everyone started taking showers, blessed, cold showers at the public bathrooms, and washing myself of the whole experience felt Wonderful. except it wasn't quite done insulting me just yet.

So. the day before we put our suitcases in the bus that would take us home. what they neglected to tell us was that we needed Everything we'd need for that day and the following day on our person. which means they wouldn't be taking our bags out of the bus, not even if we REALLY needed something. i didn't have my flip flops on me. i had put the shoes i had hiked in away (and also they were like sopping wet which is disgusting). it was hot as fuck and the parking lot outside was all gravel. i had to walk in that barefoot.

insult to injury.

i got myself ice cream. tried not to cry. we all had to wait for like half an hour as the lost boys made their way back to us (i can't remember if a teacher had to go back onto the path to find them or not). borrowed drama teacher's flip flops which were hilariously oversized. and then, literally RIGHT as everyone was boarding the bus to leave. i whip out my phone and grab the one and only picture i have related to the hike itself.

it was a long drive back to my home province. i put on some music, cuddled my pillow and tried to sleep. i mostly just tried not to sob. out of pain, relief, anguish - whatever. since it was a long drive, we stopped at a strip mall that's a really common sort of stopping station for people doing drives like this, such as to use the bathroom. another school happened to be pulled up as we stopped by here, and a girl gave me the filthiest, most judgmental look i have EVER seen because i was barefoot. i honestly don't blame her.

it was dark by the time we got back to the school. i did, in fact, cry when i saw my family. the very next day - no exaggeration, i'm 99% sure it was the VERY next day - it was announced that schools would be closing and the country would be going into lockdown due to covid. which means i got to spend the next, like, two weeks recovering instead of thinking about school. i think one of the days after i got back i watched interstellar. i was on a bit of a sci-fi kick. it was okay.

here's that picture i took outside the bus before we left for home.

people Did see me take this. a couple of my classmates made jokes about how they relate and at least one gave me a high five.

anyway, that's the story of my Mountain Experience™. again, more than comfortable sharing this story as i think it's quite important with understanding me and we know who to blame for putting us through this. i've had chats with other alumni who came before me and they had their Own nightmarish experiences with this camp, which makes me wonder how it continued being a thing for so long.

#ask #queerkearney #answered #my writing #biographical this time :)#kiddo's mountain experience #mutuals :)

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 1 year

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Writing Resources: Chronic Migraines

Sp's resources for Content Creators Materialist

This is a long post!

Trigger warnings for discussion of chronic migraines. Other authors are more than welcome to add their own points and I will update the link in the masterlist as more is added. Alternatively, send me an anon ask or DM if you want to remain anonymous. I live with this condition every day and it has a serious impact on my life, don't be an ass.

This is a follow to this post I am over the moon at how many people are using/sharing it. Thank you so much!!

Basic facts

If you take anything away from this post, please make it this, migraines are not just really bad headaches. Migraines describe a wide range of neurological issues.

Remission happens, but it is a pipe dream for most people and many people who go into remission end up getting them again. This means that there is no cure, only treatment. Partial remission (less than ten migraines a month) is far more common and is what most people aim for.

Three out of four people who have migraines are AFAB, as the last post states being AFAB makes it much harder to access treatment.

Migraines are a registered disability and cost people/counties millions of dollars a year in treatment.

Miragines run in families but that doesn't mean they can't come from other sources.

There may be no clear cause.

Some people have spots on their brains that show up in MRIs others do not. Not having spots doesn't mean you are lying.

Some migraines mimic strokes.

For some people, nothing works, they have tried everything below and get no relief.

The Migraine

It starts with the prodrome this is the attack phase. Some people get an aura which might mean vision changes or smelling things that aren't there. Some people (myself included) don't get auras this does not mean we are lying.

The attack phase, this is when the pain starts. See symptoms for more information.

Postdrome, this is what happens after. Some people become very hungry, some people get huge bursts of energy, and some people are so tired they can't get out of bed.

Symptoms

Head pain, but not always, silent migraines and/or stomach migraines exist. The pain can be crushing/squeezing, pounding, sharp, burning, stabbing or a mix. Pain is often not isolated to the head and can affect the face, neck and shoulders as well.

Sensitivity to light (this is a huge one of me, I live in the Batcave) it can be so bad during an attack I can't even stand the light of my powerboard.

Sensitivity to sound, some people may find the spinning of a fan unbearable.

Sensitivity to smell. Anything from flowers to strong perfume and food smell can make a person feel very ill.

Sore skin, being touched can hurt.

Aggravation by movement/changing in position. Imagine being worried about getting up to use the bathroom because you know your pain will go from severe to "oh my god I want to die." When I am very bad, I have to spend around five minutes going from lying down, to sitting up to standing.

Tingling and numbness.

Facial drooping.

Nausea and vomiting. I have often said that if it was just pain, I could cope (bullshit) feeling nausea is horrible.

Brain fog. This can be so bad that people can forget very basic things.

Emotional ups and downs, being in pain can be really rough.

Triggers

The heat/cold.

Getting not enough/too much/poor sleep.

Certain foods.

Alcohol

Strong smells, I cannot use public transport without serious planning because most people don't know how strong their perfumes are.

Too much/too little/any exercise or exertion.

Changes in the weather. I used to love the rain, but I had to stop taking a drug due to its side effects, the rain now ruins my day.

Treatment Information/Treatments

A neurologist is the main treatment doctor.

People have to keep headache diaries.

To be diagnosed with a migraine disorder a person has to have more than head pain and/or head pain a certain number of times a month.

For some treatments a person has had to have others fail.

Emgality

Emgality sends people into remission. However, its use is limited because the body devolves antibodies. Imagine finally being pain-free years after of trying, then having something that works fail a year down the line, that's what many Emgality deal with.

Emgality is an auto-injector that goes in just below the skin, the is less body fat you have to more it hurts. My pain ruins my appetite and I'm thin, had it worked for me (it didn't) using it would have been difficult as I found the injection very painful.

Emgality can be very expensive.

There are two initial injections then one, once a month. They need to be kept in the fridge.

Botox

Botox can be very effective, it consists of up to forty injections every 8-12 weeks in the jaw, forehead, scalp neck and shoulder. I don't find these painful. In the case of where I live, the co-pay is every 12 weeks.

It is nothing like the botox you get for wrinkles.

Protocols for getting botox can be very strict, like all other treatments, botox can become ineffective over time. In the case of where I live, you had to either have had 8 days a month with migraines and/or 15 days with head pain.

Cost without a co-pay can be in the thousands.

Continued treatment with a co-pay may mean botox has to be effective after two rounds, it can take up to four for things to really work.

I start feeling it wear off at 9 weeks, which means for three weeks I am back to 5 pain days a week. This is very common and is mentioned in a lot of botox information.

For me the injections feel like being grabbed by tiny little hands.

Many people (myself included) get a post-botox migraine, they are not fun.

For some people botox does nothing or makes them even worse.

Below is the most basic injection map, I and many people I know get more than what is listed. It varies from person to person and often takes multiple rounds to find out what extra sights are helpful.

Preventive Medications

Daily pills that can be anything from anti-depressants to epilepsy medication.

They may work wonders, but side effects can ruin them. These can include, damage to internal organs, serious changes in weight, brain fog so bad you can't function and some drugs cause fetal deformities.

Most people will try a lot of preventive before they find one that works, some people will never find anything.

Daily cannabis can also be a preventative, both CBD and THC.

The list below is the most common

Abortives

These are used in the prodrome or attack phase.

The drugs could be triptans in the form of pills, injections and nasal sprays, muscle relaxants, sleeping pills, antihistamines and opioids and other pain medications including cannabis (both CBD and THC).

Other options.

A dark, comfortable room.

Heat and or cold treatment.

Magnesium injections and fluids.

Hot showers.

Physical therapy.

Dental treatment.

Roll-ons, creams and pain sprays with or without THC and CBD.

Tips on writing

Suggesting things like drinking water, doing yoga, taking xyz out of your diet, getting some sun, going for a walk or seeing a therapist is a really shitty thing to do. If you're doing this in your writing, then try to show it for what it is, an invading experience that happens over and over and over again. It's really nice when someone I know calls a person out on this.

Miragine sufferers often force themselves to function, if your character has a migraine and they have stuff to do, show that it's hard for them. Show that they are angry and distressed and want nothing more than to go home and rest and be out of pain.

Show the desperation that can take place. There are times I would have done anything to get out of pain. I would do whatever I could even if I knew it wasn't going to help. When all you can think about is how much pain you're in you will do anything to make it go away.

Being in pain all the time can make your normal abnormal, I can function fine at pain levels that send some people to the ER. You have no choice but to cope and many people (myself included) grow to dismiss their pain. Putting into words "it doesn't matter that I can't even keep water down or that the light shining through my eyelids makes me want to die, there's shit to be done."

I have cried when people have told me they have believed me, Many people do not want to be looked after, they just want to be acknowledged.

Fiction around someone looking after someone else can be wonderful (it's a part of many of my fics) If you want to write a caretaker fic/screen have the caretaker ask what the person needs, have them do research and show them being an advocate.

Please DM me if you have any questions.

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stargazingellie · 8 months

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lazarus is risen

chapter three: ghosts of asphodel

(masterlist) (part 1) (part 2)

hello beautiful people!! here's part three :)

(ellie williams x reader, post-tlou2, useless lesbians, slow burn, cross country road trip, lots of references to greek mythology, etc.)

Asphodel: Portion of the Greek Underworld where ordinary souls are said to go after death. Asphodel lilies are said to symbolize the sentiment, “my regrets follow you to the grave.”

[Ellie]

Ellie woke with a start as several sharp knocks came from the door. Covered in a thin layer of sweat, she tried to remember what she had been dreaming about. All she could recall was the sensation of falling, falling, fallin and the overwhelming feeling of impending doom, but even those were fading as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and pushed her hair out of her face.

It was not unlike any other night, since she couldn’t remember a time recently where she hadn’t been woken up by a horrible nightmare. The knocking was new, though; she hadn’t reconnected with most people since returning, and certainly not enough to warrant a visit after dark. Reaching over to turn on a lamp, she threw off the covers and crossed the small room to open the door.

“Oh, uh, Maria, I–” Ellie began, surprised to see the town’s leader standing there.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Ellie,” Maria interrupted. “I know you said you needed some space when you got back, but something… urgent has come up. I need you to come with me, please.”

Ellie looked around nervously, confused as to why Maria would need her help with something so important when there were plenty of other capable, more congenial options available. “I mean, I’m happy to help if you need me, but… is there not, I don’t know… anyone else?” Ellie asked awkwardly.

Maria looked at her with a sympathetic expression, remembering how traumatized Ellie had been after what happened in Santa Barbara. “Ellie, if there was someone else I could ask, I would be at their doorstep right now. But there are some people here who, uh… who need to talk to you.”

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows. “Me? Why? There are a lot of people who aren’t very happy with me right now.” Her socks suddenly became very interesting as she thought of the long, long list of people who might want to kill her.

Maria quickly shook her head. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. I think… I think you might be able to help them. But I think you should hear it from them.”

Still looking at the ground, Ellie stood silently, unsure how to respond. Me? Help them? Why am I so special? She ran a toe along the edge of the floorboard.

Sensing her indecision, Maria placed a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and gazed at her softly. “I think this could be really good for you, Ellie.”

Maria’s words brought Ellie out of her thoughts. She looked up and made eye contact with the older woman, almost shocked by how gentle the usually-stern Maria was being.

After a moment of consideration, Ellie replied, “Okay.Let me put some shoes on.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m not gonna do this again.”

“That’s up to you.”

Their last words to each other rang in Ellie’s head as she gripped the envelope in her hands. After returning from Santa Barbara and finding their farmhouse empty, she knew things with Dina would never be the same. While she was away, Ellie thought about Dina and J.J. every day. She knew her decision had created an irreparable rift between them, but that didn’t stop her from caring deeply about the little family she had left behind.

Ellie hadn’t spoken to Dina in the few weeks since returning, partly because Ellie hardly left her house, but mostly because she made a point to avoid places she knew Dina might be. Ellie hadn’t been on patrol, she only took meals to-go, and she definitely didn’t attend Jackson’s infamous parties – parties just like the one being held that night.

She desperately wanted to talk to Dina – to apologize, to explain herself, to ask Dina to forgive her – but she knew better. She knew Dina meant what she had said that night at the farmhouse all those months ago, and she didn’t want to make Dina’s life any more complicated than she had already managed to make it.

Still, at the very least, Ellie wanted Dina to know how sorry she was. A letter, Ellie thought. So she wrote. And wrote, and wrote, and wrote, but she could never seem to get the words right. When at last she drafted something decent, she sealed the paper in an old envelope and grabbed her jacket.

Though she hadn’t spoken to Dina, she had learned from other people around the community that Dina and J.J. moved in with Jesse’s parents after abandoning the farmhouse. Knowing everyone would be attending the party in the town square, Ellie made her way to Dina’s new residence until eventually she found herself standing in front of a red mailbox, nervously considering the envelope in her hands. Lost in thought as she considered if the letter was a good idea, she didn’t hear the soft footsteps approaching from behind her. A voice called out to her – a voice she hadn’t heard in a long, long time.

“Ellie?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last time a group of strangers came to Jackson looking for someone, it turned out to be one of the worst days of Ellie’s life. As she followed Maria towards the center of town, Ellie grew more and more anxious about meeting the newcomers awaiting her. When Maria’s house came into view and the pair approached the front door, Maria paused for a moment before reaching for the knob. Putting her hand on Ellie’s shoulder, she said softly, “Just hear them out, okay?”

Ellie forced a small smile and replied, “I’ll try.”

Maria returned the smile and opened the door to step inside. As Ellie followed her to one of the plush couches in the living area, Ellie quickly scanned the room. There were two people she had known from patrol, but four strangers occupied the space opposite her and Maria’s couch. Two burly men stood menacingly behind the sofa, and their military-esque uniforms and posture reminded Ellie of her various interactions with FEDRA soldiers.

The two seated strangers stood out in almost comical contrast to the large men behind them. There was an older man – probably older than Maria, by the looks of it – who awkwardly adjusted the round, wire-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. Though he was sitting down, Ellie could tell he was a lanky, unassuming type of person.

The final stranger was a girl – probably around her age, Ellie guessed – sitting next to him. She wore her curly, strawberry-blonde hair in a long ponytail and donned small silver hoops in her ears. Ellie noticed the girl and the older man had the same bright, brown eyes, and wondered if it was a familial resemblance. As she pondered the similarity, Ellie realized a moment too late that the girl’s eyes were looking straight back at her, and quickly looked away when she noticed.

Maria cleared her throat and set her tightly folded hands in her lap.

“Alright, well… start talking.”

The older man adjusted himself on the couch so he could sit up straighter. “Yes, well, I realize you probably don’t get visitors like this very often, and I do apologize for any commotion we might have created. My name is Doctor Steven Reynolds, and I’m one of the head researchers at the Administration for the Research and Containment of Cordyceps. A.R.C.C, for short.” He gestured to the girl sitting next to him. “This is my daughter Lucy. She’s one of the junior researchers at A.R.C.C.”

So they are family, Ellie thought to herself.

Dr. Reynolds motioned to the large men behind him. “These are Officers Jacobs and Alvaro. They made sure we got here in one piece. As I explained earlier, our organization is based in Atlanta, out of what was formerly the Centers for Disease Control. A core group of experts has been conducting research there since the outbreak, and we’ve made substantial progress in understanding the contagion, but far less in terms of being able to combat it.

“All of our previous research samples have been conducted on recently infected subjects. Obviously we don’t purposely infect people – that would violate just about every ethical and moral code there is – but when one of our own gets infected, they have the choice to voluntarily submit themselves to testing as they… ah… as the infection spreads. Unfortunately, when the infection spreads too far, well – I'm sure you know all too well what happens then. It gets too dangerous for us to keep them contained, so our sampling time is limited at best.”

For the first time since entering the house, Ellie spoke.

“What does that have to do with me?” she said, arms crossed protectively in front of her chest.

“It has everything to do with you.” Dr. Reynolds grinned. “Ms. Williams, right? It really is a pleasure to be meeting you in person.”

“Um, just Ellie is fine. And thanks, I think?” She looked skeptically at the group of strangers in front of her. “Although I’m not really sure what I did to be so worth meeting.”

Dr. Reynolds chuckled as if she had just told a joke. “Ms. Williams – Ellie – you are a walking medical miracle. Even before the outbreak, our methods for treating serious fungal infections were almost nonexistent. I’ll admit, in the past couple years even I was beginning to worry there really wouldn’t be a way out of this. And then we heard about you.” He paused. “You were bitten, correct?”

Ellie shifted in her seat. “Uh, yeah. A couple times actually.”

Dr. Reynolds’ eyes lit up as he listened. “And what happened in the hours that followed, may I ask?”

She nervously ran a hand along the back of her neck. Only a handful of people in the entire world knew about her condition, and she didn’t have much practice answering these kinds of questions. “Uh, well, they kind of got all red and itchy. And there were some cysts too. But eventually they just scabbed over and left some pretty nasty scars.”

Dr. Reynolds ran his hands through his white beard as he thought about what she said. “Fascinating. Utterly fascinating.” He mumbled some scientific jargon to himself that Ellie didn’t even try to understand. “Could I… could I see one of them, perhaps?”

Suddenly, Lucy gasped and gave him a light slap on the wrist. “Dad! You can’t just ask to see something like that.” She turned to address Ellie directly. “Sorry about that. You don’t have to show him anything.” Lucy gave her father a pointed look as she said, “He just gets… carried away sometimes.”

Ellie gave a small laugh, amused by their interaction. It obviously wasn’t the first time he’d said something less-than-appropriate while excited about his research.

“No, it’s okay.” She leaned forward and showed him the side of her left hand, just under where her pinkie used to be. The crescent-shaped scar was still visible, but only just.“This one’s about two months old. Healed a lot better than the first one.”

Dr. Reynolds gently took her hand and examined the bite. He shook his head in disbelief. “Never, in all my years, have I seen anything like this.” After a few moments, he said to Lucy, “Here, take a closer look.”

Lucy’s eyes darted nervously in Ellie’s direction, as if unsure about subjecting the other girl to such intense examination. Ellie noticed her uncertainty and reassured her, saying, “Really, it’s okay. I don’t bite.” Ellie could have sworn she heard one of the guards snort under his breath.

She held her hand out to Lucy, who gingerly took it in both of her own. She still hesitated a moment, but her curiosity got the better of her and she leaned in to look closer, their foreheads now only about a foot apart. They were close enough now that Ellie noticed a small tattoo on Lucy’s left wrist that she hadn’t noticed before – a small spattering of dots which at first appeared to have no pattern, yet somehow seemed to form shapes that were vaguely familiar.

Ellie was surprised by how soft the other girl’s hands were; she seldom met anyone whose skin hadn’t been calloused by years of manual labor. Lucy brushed her thumb over the arc of the scar. Quietly, Lucy asked, “Does it… does it still hurt?” As she spoke, she lifted her gaze to meet Ellie’s, brown eyes meeting green.

Ellie smiled sadly. “No, not really. It’s just kind of… ugly. Hurts more to look at, I guess.”

Lucy returned a sympathetic smile. “Well, for the record, I don’t think it’s ugly. I think it’s pretty badass.” She gave Ellie’s hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it and sitting back in her seat.

Ellie ran her own thumb over the faint scar and smiled shyly, considering Lucy’s statement. “Thanks,” she replied, almost inaudibly.

Dr. Reynolds continued, “It’s my belief that we have not achieved much success on the treatment front because we haven’t had the right subject. Ellie, you – your immunity – could be invaluable to the research we’ve been conducting. I have every reason to believe that understanding the mechanism behind your immunity is the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for.”

Looking at her shoes, Ellie said solemnly, “Last time someone said that, they wanted to cut out my brain. Which, like, if that’s the only way, then sure. Just wanna know what I’m getting myself into.”

Dr. Reynolds furrowed his brow. “I don’t know who exactly was involved in that operation, but I do know the Fireflies were never known for their medical brilliance. It seems quite foolish to permanently incapacitate your only subject, wouldn’t you agree? No, at our headquarters we have access to all of the equipment and machines formerly used by the CDC itself. There would be no need for complete internal extraction.”

Ellie considered his explanation. A cure? And it wouldn’t kill me?

Maria placed a hand on Ellie’s knee and gave her a gentle smile before turning to the traveling party. “Can she have the night to think about it?” she asked.

Dr. Reynolds nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course. I want you to be sure about whatever you decide.”

“Thank you,” Maria said. “We’ll find somewhere for you all to stay tonight. Ellie, why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll come get you in the morning.”

Ellie nodded reluctantly and stood up from the couch. She gave a small, awkward wave before opening the door and exiting without saying a word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ellie?”

Startled, Ellie turned around and stared wide-eyed at the two familiar faces staring back at her.

“Dina – I –”

“What are you doing here?” Dina’s expression was almost unreadable. Anger, confusion, sadness, hurt – it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. On her hip, a sleepy J.J. stirred at the sudden shift in his mother’s demeanor.

“I was, um… I thought you’d be at the party,” Ellie stammered.

“We were. But he’s, you know, a baby. And we’re both tired,” Dina said shortly.

Ellie looked between the two faces that had once been her entire world. “Right, sorry, I was just…” she trailed off.

“What? You were just what? You leave in the middle of the night, you’re gone for weeks, and when you get back you still say nothing? Then you show up at my doorstep hoping I’d… what, exactly? Take you back?”

Ellie shook her head vigorously. “No, no, that’s not –”

“Newsflash, Ellie, you’re the one who left. You chose this. We had something good and you abandoned it,” Dina spat out the words like acid. “For what? To chase someone who might’ve already been dead? Just so you could, what, kill her?”

“No, I didn’t – I couldn’t –”

“It seems like the only thing you’re good at is getting people killed. If we hadn’t gone after her in the first place, Jesse would still be here. J.J. would still have his dad.” Dina’s words stung. Ellie wanted to protest, but she knew deep down that everything Dina said was true.

Sensing the tension in the air, J.J. started to whimper. Dina averted her attention to the child on her hip as she comforted him, cooing softly at him while she swayed him gently. When he calmed down, she sighed, and it was obvious how tired she was.

“So what are you doing here, Ellie?”

At a loss for words, Ellie became aware of the item in her hand again. “I… I wrote you a letter. I wanted to apologize,” she said weakly.

Dina shook her head. “You really don’t get it, do you? I meant what I said. I’m not doing this again. I can’t have you coming in and out of our lives every time someone wrongs you. I can’t let him get hurt like that again. I don’t want your letter. I don’t want you in my life. We’re done, Ellie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ellie stepped out into the cool night air and pulled the door closed behind her. Dr. Reynolds’ offer bounced around her head like a ping pong ball. It seemed too good to be true, but everything he said seemed to check out. For years, she had thought of her immunity as something she had to hide, something that had only ever brought horrible things into her life. But with a team of scientists who actually know what they’re doing… couldn’t it be more than that? Wouldn’t a cure make her life matter again?

Hadn’t that been what she’d told Joel, all those years ago?

She was no stranger to traveling outside of Jackson, but another cross-country trip would always be daunting. There was no telling what kinds of people were out there now – alive or infected. And she didn’t know anything about these strangers other than their names. Still, that hadn’t stopped her the first time.

As she made her way through the dark streets, she passed the house with the red mailbox. Two handprints in white paint adorned one side, one adult-sized and one much smaller. Ellie smiled sadly as she imagined Dina and J.J. pressing their painted hands on the metal frame, and the mess that inevitably followed. Curtained windows let light spill out into the darkness, and Ellie could see the silhouettes of the family inside.

Pausing for a moment, Ellie quickly walked over to the curb. She took a deep breath and reached out to hang something on the little signal flag attached to the mailbox. As she walked away, the light from inside reflected off of a small metal charm bracelet. For good luck, Ellie thought.

As she neared her house, she found her feet leading her down a separate path. Before she knew it, she was sitting on the soft grass of the cemetery in front of Joel’s headstone. A few feet away, a more recent headstone had been erected.

Jesse

Son, father, friend.

Ellie glanced sadly at the words as she picked idly at the grass in front of her. Unlike the other stones, no grave had been dug for Jesse since there was no body to be buried. She thought about their last night in Seattle, and how Jesse’s corpse was probably rotting right where they had left it. The thought made her nauseous. Her chest filled with the heavy sensations of shame, guilt, and regret.

Ellie lay down on her back and ran her fingers through the grass that had grown over Joel’s burial site. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. After all we’ve been through, everything that I’ve done… it can’t be for nothing. Her conversation with him in Salt Lake City echoed around her head.

It won’t be for nothing, she decided. I won’t let it.

When Maria knocked on her door the next morning, Ellie was wide awake and had already packed a bag. Maria took note and said, “I guess you’ve made your decision?” Ellie nodded.

“Alright. Let’s get you some food for the road, then.”

Ellie nodded again. She turned off the light for what she knew would probably be the last time, and shut the door behind her.

#lazarus is risen // ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #pls tell me what u think <333

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normal-with-adhd-is-a-joke · 2 years

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People probably aren't going to like this one but as someone who has both depression and CFS people saying "oh I have that because of my depression!" when I tell them about my CFS rubs me the wrong way for a few reasons:

People with CFS are constantly blown off as having depression or burnout. One of the (ableist) nicknames for CFS is literally "yuppie (a mocking term for young businesspeople) flu". You might think "well the only reason that would be a problem is if you don't believe depression is as disabling as CFS", but that's not true. An incorrect diagnosis of depression can lead to incorrect treatment and worsening of our condition. There's also the issue that treatment for CFS is horribly underfunded and we get even less attention when people assume our issues are already covered under depression or another mental condition.

CFS has symptoms other than just being fatigued. Dysautonomia symptoms like POTS/gastroparesis, brain fog, post-exertional malaise, chronic pain, difficulty sleeping, dizziness, and a host of other symptoms make up the condition. A lot of people hear "chronic fatigue syndrome" and think it just means "fatigue that lasts a long time", and you're forgiven for thinking that given its shitty name, that's why we're trying to get the name of the condition changed. Until then, please treat it like many other horribly named conditions and do research before assuming you have it based on the name.

If you're depressed, exercise is good. A big step in depression recovery is being able to get an exercise routine going to help release happy chemicals that help treat the depression. This is not true of CFS. Exercise will cause a person with CFS to become significantly worse, to the point of losing their job, needing a wheelchair, or becoming bedbound, depending on their current energy levels. Incorrectly identifying CFS fatigue as depression fatigue can be devastating. I should know, I did it at first. I'm confident that if I had identified what was wrong with me in the first month I was sick I wouldn't have needed the $4,000 wheelchair and expensive CFS treatment I have now.

In summary, depression can cause fatigue, but not chronic fatigue syndrome. Being told we're "just depressed" is a huge problem for CFS patients and a barrier to our treatments, so we might be annoyed or even standoffish towards depressed people who try to empathize with us. It's not because we hate you, many if not most of us are also depressed, but because "that's just depression" is often followed by "and you're dramatic and attention-seeking for needing the aids that you need/'not trying' to get better".

#cfs #cfs/me #chronic fatigue syndrome #myalgic encephalomyelitis #mental health #mental health awareness #ableism tw

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

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Always You | JJK (One)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack

Word Count: 10.2k (yikes, I know) (I will try to shorten future chapters, ya girl is sorry)

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, puking, reader is a drunk cry baby, reader is kinda embarrassing, jk is kinda jelaous, mentions of sleeping around, reader and jk are pretty affectionate, jk’s thighs are mentioned—that’s like, a warning in itself right?

Notes: hiiiii, the first part is here! Once again, really nervous about this so please go easy on me but mostly, just enjoy! :) also sorry for any typos!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun is a magical thing. It lights up and warms the Earth, it enhances your mood, it helps plants grow, it literally provides for life. Without the sun, life on Earth would cease to exist. What the sun also does? The sun also shines down on us and lights up the most beautiful things. The sun today, however, is especially highlighting the most beautiful thing. The way the glittering rays gleam through the windows you can see how todays sun focuses on him.

That’s right, you guessed it. Kim Taehyung. His skin is absolutely glowing in the rays, his eyes sparkle in the light that shines down. Yes, Kim Taehyung is an other-worldly being. The way he just stands there and shimmers you can’t help but stare but also like, shy away because his beauty is so god damn blinding. Wait…was this dramatic? This might be dramatic. You’re too far gone to care though. His boxy grin, the way his hair falls into his eyes, the mole on his—

“I just want you to know, you are fucking drooling.” You hear the scoff of the man across from you, Jeon Jungkook, also known as your best friend.

You lazily shake your head as the two of you sit nice and snug in the booths of your favorite coffee shop. It’s one of the colder spring days, the breeze biting at your skin when you were outside but now, you have Jungkook’s scarf wrapped loosely around your neck and hot coffee in your hands.

“I mean, I get it. He’s gorgeous but do you really have to go this far?”

You bring the white mug full of black coffee to your lips. It’s hot and burns the tip of your tongue, but not anything you’re not use to.

“Yes.” You state plainly. You know exactly to what he is referring to. You don’t usually come here at this time, in fact you are usually a creature of habit and come at the same time on the same days… Tuesday and Thursdays in the evening but its Friday and like 1pm. But you knew Kim Taehyung was going to be here when he snapped a picture of the famous white mug with the shops logo on it and posted on his story. You bring your hand up to your forehead, saluting to the sky, “Thank you Snapchat.” So yes, naturally when you saw he was at this coffee shop you hurried to make sure you were too. Maybe it is fucking desperate. Okay it is. But could you blame a girl? He was one of the hottest guys you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

“This is ridiculous,” Jungkook huffs into his own mug, “You could just talk to him…”

Now it was your turn to scoff.

“As fucking if!”

Jungkook smirks into his mug, taking a sip of the burning hot coffee. “That incapable, hmm?”

“It’s not that I’m incapable JK,” You blow on the drink nonchalantly, “I am simply just not worthy.”

“You are so stupid, I swear.” He huffs into his mug again.

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook breathes out slowly, biting his lip as if contemplating what to say.

It’s like, what can he say? He wishes he could tell you a million things that would ease your mind, that could possibly give you the confidence you need or maybe just slap the reality on you that Taehyung doesn’t deserve you. But then he will get asked ‘why’ and he can’t have that.

“What?” you whine into your cup before setting it down.

“You’re really cool and also pretty?” he says quirking a brow in question. Because apparently that’s all he can come up with.

“That’s a question? Also am I dying? You’re complimenting me?” you tease, giving him an exaggerated look of satisfaction.

“I just mean…” Jungkook runs a hand through his messy dark locks, “You have nothing to worry about, ya know?”

Nothing to worry about he says! What does he know? He can literally get any girl—or guy for that matter—that he wants. You dip your head, frowning at the idea.

Jungkook has been your best friend since your freshmen year and there’s nothing you treasure more than his friendship. You bite your lips and tilt your head trying to recall his first presence in your life…oh! That stupid frat party freshmen year…you met at a frat party during your first semester and totally hit it off. Did he try to get into your pants? Okay, yeah maybe. He offered a room just up the stairs that night, but you refused…seemingly too shy. But Jungkook was nothing but understanding. He pat your back and said he knew a better place, and that was the 24 diner down the street. And the rest is history

“Obviously I don’t know and oh my god don’t look but—” You try saying before Jungkook is completely turning his head around to look. Classic Jungkook.

“Oh hey Tae.” Jungkook says in The Kim Taehyungs direction. Taehyung walks up to your table, you thought the sun only highlighted his beauty but up close he is the sun. You knew it was a magical thing.

“Hey guys! “ Taehyung stands there as bright as a fucking light, waving at you and your best friend. Oh yeah, did we forget to mention Jungkook is also friends with said Kim Taehyung? Okay, so maybe talking to Taehyung shouldn’t be that hard, since you share the same fucking friends. And you guys are technically friends too.

“Sup dude.” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly, picking up his coffee mug once again. His long fingers wrapping around the porcelain, warming him up. You watch as Jungkook takes a sip of his beverage with his doe eyes on you, he nods his head towards Taehyung and winks at you as he gulps down the drink. Of course, he’s teasing you.

“Hey y/n!” Taehyungs smile shines so brightly you want to actually kill yourself. What is up with this dude and being so blinding?

“Hey Taehyung…” you gulp your coffee awkwardly, giving him a small wave of the hand.

“y/n I told you to call me Tae!”

“Right…” you chuckle into the coffee creating bubbles of the liquid like the fucking pathetic lil thang you are.

Yeah, talking to The Kim Taehyung is not your specialty. Never was.

2 years ago

Your head is buried in books on the table of your campuses library with Jungkook fast asleep next to you. Statistics shouldn’t be this hard but it fucking is and you are groaning into your book, on the verge of pulling your hair out when a deep voice that rumbles your insides interrupts you—actually fuck it, you don’t feel like getting into a flashback. Just know that you met Taehyung (officially through Jungkook) and he ended up calling you pretty and you’ve thought about it every day since. Because you are pathetic. What’s new?

And that was it, that’s all it took for you to gain a massive crush on the boy.

“What’s up dude?” Jungkook asks again. He is now scrolling through his phone, probably swiping through Tinder, if you have to guess. And you’re right because he’s turning his phone towards you showing you some random girl, his wide eyes asking for your opinion. You roll your eyes and nod your head ‘yes’. As you can guess, this happens quite often.

“Ummm…” Taehyung runs a frustrated hand through his hair, you slowly tilt your head to soak him in when you notice he looks almost…panicked? “I need help with something actually,” but he isn’t looking at Jungkook as he says this, no. He’s looking at you.

“You see that girl at the counter over there? The one with long hair, not the other one.” He nods his head in the general direction while still remaining discreet.

You tilt your head to steal a glance at the counter and yes you do see the girl he is referring to. She’s got long brown hair that reaches her waist and man, she is gorgeous. Big, bright eyes. Full, pouting lips. Long legs and yeah, the works. Taehyung sure knows how to pick them. Did he need help to get her number of something? Like a wing woman? You mean, does he really need the help?

“Yes, I see her.” Is all you say to him and you expect him to ask you to go over there but instead he says,

“Great. I need you to be my girlfriend.”

You blink lazily at him as you process his words while Jungkook chokes on his drink.

“You want her to be your what?” Jungkook is the first to speak.

“My girlfriend.” He says again before his eyes go wide, “Like, like my fake girlfriend.” Taehyung turns a wonderful shade of red before his hand is reaching to scratch the back of his neck, chuckling to himself. “This girl—Anna…she is a bit obsessed? Ya know? Won’t leave me alone type thing and …and I have tried saying I have a girlfriend but she followed me to this coffee shop when she heard I was here. Like, who does that?”

Now it’s your turn to turn red, because you. You would fucking do that.

“That’s horrible Taehy—” you begin to say before Taehyungs large eyes pierce into your own, “Please y/n.”

“Anna???” Jungkook cuts in setting his phone on the table. “Like Anna Anna?” Jungkook squints his eyes at his friend before scoffing. “...She’s not doing it.” his eyes go between Taehyung and this girl Anna. “Don’t involve her in whatever game you—"

“I’ll do it.” You say, even surprising yourself. “I mean, it’s just pretend and for this moment so why not?” you begin to explain yourself. Plus for a few minutes you can pretend you’re really his girlfriend and your delusional mind will thrive off that.

Tae is quick to straighten his back and smile widely before he is ushering you to scoot over in the booth to let him in. “Scoot scoot” he whispers, grinning from ear to ear.

“Tae, you can’t be serious—” Jungkook is quick to say something, anything. His hands scrambling to grab his phone and hands it to Taehyung from across the table. “Here. Call up some other girl to do this. Don’t involve y/n.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a look of panic before Jungkook speaks up again, “Plus, y/n would be the worst fake girlfriend,” And that’s it. That’s all it takes. Jungkook’s constant negativity pisses you off so much that it drives what you say next.

“No need Taehyung.” You snatch Jungkook’s phone and shove it back in his hands. “Why don’t you call up one of your girls yourself and leave us alone?”

Jungkook looks at you shocked, his brows furrowing so deeply you are almost concerned for his face and the wrinkles that might set in.

“y/n…?” his stupid doe eyes look at you with so much confusion.

“I just mean, I can do this Jungkook. Don’t have to be so concerned.”

At that, Taehyung lights up.

“Great!” and his long arm wraps around your waist and when he was sure Anna is looking he leans in to plant a soft kiss to your cheek. “Thanks for doing this…” he whispers in your ear before placing another kiss.

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s shocked ones. He looks like he just saw a ghost, all the color drained from his face as he watches you and Taehyung.

“Uh….” You don’t have any words for Taehyung—or Tae as he likes to be called.

You don’t even have the balls to glance his way, you don’t even have the balls to breathe in his direction.

“Look at me?” Taehyung’s finger is on your chin, guiding it towards his face.

“No…” Jungkook spurts out, “I mean, y/n don’t we have to go?” Jungkook looks at you with a look you’ve never really seen before. Maybe it’s desperation but you don’t really care.

“We don’t actually” you respond nonchalantly.

And with that you turn to face Taehyung more properly. His face is so close to yours it’s almost suffocating.

“What is it…Tae?” you try out his nickname for the first time. His cheeks flush and he scoots back just an inch.

“Thank you for doing this but…” his eyes slide to the side, eyeing Jungkook. “I was thinking we could do this for a couple of weeks, at the least. Ya know, to make it believable.”

Surprising you and Taehyung, Jungkook rises from his seat at the booth,

“y/n let’s go.” He simply states, not even looking at you. Taehyung looks panicked as you look between the boys.

“Tae…” you started to say before Jungkook reaches over the table to grab your wrist, “Come oooooooonnnnn” But you are quick to yank it back.

“Stop Jungkook, you’re being childish.”

Taehyung tightens his hold on you, “Yeah Kookie, sit back down…please.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at Taehyung, giving him a look that screams ‘are you serious?!’

“Childish? Okay.” He gives you a look of disappointment before grabbing his phone and his bag and walking away from the table. You watch in disbelief as Jungkook’s figure disappears from your view. What was up with him?

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s going on with him…”

“Right…” Tae responds quietly, his grip on your waist loosening up. “He’s just really protective over you, huh?” Taehyung bites his lip in contemplation, “y/n. I’m serious, let’s do this. I’ll pay for your coffee for the next month if you do this with me. Please, I am quite literally begging you.” He breathes out through his nose in an attempt to laugh. “She won’t leave me alone otherwise.”

You bite your lip in deep thought, your brows pulled together. Taehyung couldn’t help but find you cute.

“For a month? What happened to a few weeks?” you ask, a playful smirk gracing your features.

Taehyung couldn’t help the grin that made its way on his face.

“1 month.” He breathes out. “Unless you fall in love with me during that time and beg for more time….” He pokes his tongue out, his teasing tone going straight to your lady bits. If only he knew.

“Fine, but we should set some ground rules…don’t you think?”

“Okay. Like what?”

“Oh…I don’t—”

Taehyung raises a brow, “Don’t say something stupid like ‘no kissing’…because we want to make it as realistic as possible, don’t we?” he leans in just a bit more. Without Jungkook around Taehyung seems a bit more confident.

“Oh, you want to kiss me then?”

“It’s just for show. We don’t gotta think too hard about it.” His face inches closer and closer.

“Love…” you say, in a complete daze. Too lost in Taehyungs big brown eyes.

“What about it?” he doesn’t blink, just continues to stare into your eyes.

“We…would if one of us catches feelings? Then we should stop it, right?” You choke out.

Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut as an impossibly cute giggle escapes his lips, “You’re so cute. How many romcoms have you watched to come up with that line?”

“I’m serious.” You push your head back, “This could become hurtful if one of us falls in love…” You say this knowing it’s you. Well, obviously. Just because Taehyung called you pretty 2 years ago doesn’t mean he likes you.

“Okay, sweetheart.” Taehyung gets close again, “I’ll tell you.” And then he leans in, just an inch from your face. His lips hovering over your own and you can see his eyes still on you, like he’s silently asking for permission. You can’t help the nod of your head and you, yourself don’t stop yourself from leaning in.

Taehyungs lips are just as soft as you had always imagined. His lips only peck yours, the kiss is short but sweet. Once he pulls back you see his eyes slide to the counter where that Anna girl stands, and a look of relief washes over his features.

“Thank God, she bought it. She looks pissed,” he laughs loudly, “She saw us and is totally storming out!”

Oh, right. This is all for show.

“Oh, good.”

“Thanks y/n!” Taehyung’s smile is so wide it takes up the entire booth. He goes in for a quick hug, pulling back he smiles again before reaching his hand to pat your head.

“You’re a good girl.” He says and slips out of the booth. Welp, you wish those words didn’t go straight to your vagina.

“Uh, thanks.” You sputter out, not entirely sure what just happened.

“See you later?” he asks then his face lights up, “I’ll bring you a coffee.”

“Well, that is the deal.” You shoot him some pathetic finger guns.

You stare down at your now cold coffee, and look across from you at the now empty booth where Jungkook once sat.

“I’ll text you with more details later!” he shakes his phone in his hand,

“Bye bye…girlfriend.” He finishes off with a wink and skips, yes fucking skips away.

You are left alone at your table, with an empty seat across from you and a cold coffee. And now a fake boyfriend with the guy you have a massive crush on. This couldn’t possibly go all wrong, could it?

~~~

“This is definitely going to go all wrong, you realize that, right? This is a bad idea y/n and you know it.”

Jungkook’s legs are swung over your own as he lays on the couch, his focus on his phone in his hands. He wears his gray puma sweat suit you love so much and smells exactly the same as always—clean laundry and his own musk. You can’t help but eye him over, his dark strands of hair falling into his eyes as he bobbles his head to rid himself of the stray pieces. You aren’t blind, Jungkook is like, crazy hot and sometimes your staring can become a problem.

“Like, ‘we can’t fall in love with each other’” he mocks, “What sort of bullshit? You already in love, aren’t you?” he peeks over his phone to get a look at you waiting for some sort of rejection of his words.

“It’s just a crush, Jungkook.”

“Sure.” His eyes go back to his screen. “You’re pretty dumb for doing this.”

“Did I mention we kissed?”

“Only 100 times now you sicko.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and you can’t help but giggle.

It’s no secret that Jungkook is against this—whatever this is. He always has been…ever since you mentioned it 2 years ago sophomore year.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?!” you ask in disbelief.

You just confessed your little crush on Taehyung to Jungkook, the two of you sitting across from one another in the library when he rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed.

“Can you not yell? We’re literally in a library. And I don’t feel like getting kicked out this week…again.” He rolls his pen between his fingers as he speaks.

“Okay one: that’s your own fault for getting caught with your hand down some girls pants. And Two: what do you mean ‘no’?”

“Taehyung is off limits for you.” He says, totally unbothered.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means, he’s my friend for one so gross, and also he’s kind of like…emotionally unavailable.”

You chew on your pen, wondering what that could mean. Like, he doesn’t date? He doesn’t ‘do’ relationships? He’s already in love with someone else?

“I’m not telling you.” Jungkook’s pen slides against his paper as he writes, “His life.”

Oh, you asked that out loud.

“Whatever Jungkook, it’s just a crush.”

It feels nice to have a crush on someone other than…

Ding

Your phone goes off and you hurry to check it. What? It could be Taehyung wanting to go over the details of the ‘plan’. But much to your disappointment it was just Jimin.

Jimin 9:42pm

Where are you guys? Party has BEEN started girl

Y/N 9:42pm

We’re about to leave babe, see you soonish

Jimin 9:43pm

You guys fuckin? *smirk face emoji*

Y/N 9:43pm

Did you just…write smirk face emoji instead of putting the emoji itself

Y/N 9:44pm

Also how many times do I have to tell you JK and I aren’t like that

Jimin 9:45pm

Whatevs, see you soon babe xoxo

You set your phone down in your lap, your fingers going to massage Jungkook’s calves as you sneak a glance at him, he closes his eyes in satisfaction as you continue massaging the muscle.

“We gotta get go—also, that’s now what you’re wearing right?”

“Not going tonight. But have fun.” Jungkook sets his phone on his chest, letting out a long breath while folding his arms behind his head. He looks comfortable like, you almost believe him that he’s really staying in.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N why don’t we just stay in tonight?” He whines, he unfolds his arms and reaches for your hand. “Let’s go buy a 12 pack, get fucked up and just ya know, stay in.” Though this doesn’t sound like a bad idea, it also sounds like every Friday night with the two of you and you want to do something different tonight. But it would take some convincing. You interlock your fingers with his and he melts at your touch, his dopey smile growing.

“It’s a good idea, right?” he says, blinking up at you.

You smile back, tilting your head just the slightest before your smile drops altogether.

“No.”

“Ugh!” Jungkook throws his head back on the sofas armrest, “Why are you like this?”

“You still love me.” You chirp swinging his legs off yours and standing to your feet.

“Now get dressed and I promise that I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the weekend and you can bring whatever poor girl back to the apartment.”

Oh yes, your best friend is also your roommate. You’ve been living together for the last year—it just made the most sense. He was always over at yours or vise versa. So it made the most sense to save money and just room together. It worked out almost perfectly—almost. He paid his half of rent on time, he cleaned the dishes, he did laundry. Wait a minute, what the hell did you offer? That’s beside the point, the best of all he was always there when you needed him. The one downfall…the girls he brought over.

It got so bad that you couldn’t even sleep. You get it, your best friend is obviously…gifted. If the girls whines and moans and screams were any indication. So you had to set some rules for your sanity! For one, the other must always warn the other when bring home a person for the night. And two, its best if the other is already like, not home. Jungkook quickly agreed…something about how he doesn’t want to hear you either.

So, offering to be gone all weekend so he can have as much sex in his bed as he wants is probably going to be convincing enough.

You study Jungkook’s features, his brows pinched together almost comically, and his lips formed into the cutest pout.

“All weekend?” he asks, kicking imaginary rocks with his feet. “Like, no interruptions?”

“No interruptions you absolute whore.”

“Fine, deal.” He looks into your eyes and something flashes across them that you cant pinpoint. “I guess I’ll get dressed…but wait, where will you stay?”

“Probably with Jimin.” You shrug.

“Hm, okay.” Jungkook walks towards his room while lifting his sweatshirt over his head and throwing it behind him, the article of clothing landing on the floor. “And you’re doing laundry.”

“Brat.” You say rolling your eyes but you can’t help but smile.

You don’t take long to get ready yourself, you settle for a casual look tonight…okay, semi-casual, meaning you’re wearing jeans but you are wearing a nice, low cut blouse that shows a generous amount of cleavage. It’s your go to titty shirt. You aren’t really looking to get laid tonight or anything but you do want onlookers to wish you were.

You bounce your knee up and down while sitting on the sofa as you not so patiently wait on your bff, you call out for him but he only yells back that you need to like, chill out. After what feels like forever, the creak of his bedroom door opening can be heard and you quickly stand to your feet to face him.

“Woah.” Is all you manage to say as Jungkook walks out of his room, his cologne filling the air around you. “You look…” you can’t even finish your sentence without Jungkook’s stupid smirk already on his face. His pants are skin tight, the material practically melted on to his thick thighs that are deliciously exposed thanks to rips and holes. His plain white tee is accompanied by a fine leather jacket and his hair is split down the middle, the waves adorning his face. He looks damn good. And you both fucking know it.

“I look?” he teases, walking closer to you. His cologne suffocating your nostrils but you aren’t upset about it.

“You look…fine. You look better than before at least.” You choke out. It’s not that Jungkook is capable of making you nervous but sometimes he has this aura about him…no, you don’t even want to get into it. Those are thoughts you’ve trained yourself to push away.

“Whatever.” His eyes skim over your body shamelessly, “You look fine too.” He winks, walking past you.

“Ready to go?” he calls out over his shoulder. You can’t help but watch his tight ass walk away. Did you really say tight ass? Well it is!

“Yeah, lemme grab my purse and uh, uh we can go. You’re driving.”

~~~

“About fucking time, sluts.”

“Hello to you too, Jiminie.” You crack a smile as your friend goes in for a quick but tight hug.

When Jungkook finally introduced you to all his friends the one you hit it off with the most was good ol’ Jimin. He immediately became one of your closest friends.

“Yo Park.” Jungkook’s eyes are all around the place, not even sparing Jimin a glance. No doubt looking for his girl for the night already. What? It’s a safe assumption.

“Jeon.” Jimin rolls his eyes playfully. “You guys took forever, too busy fucking?”

You hit Jimin’s shoulder with your own, giving him a look that says you’ll scold him later.

“She wishes.” Jungkook finally puts his attention on the two of you, a wide smile growing on his face.

“Shut up.”

“What? It’s true! Oh my god Jimin, you should of seen her face when she saw me walk out in this fit.” Jungkook stands tall, hands grabbing onto the material of his leather jacket,

“She was like “oh my god Jungkook you look so go—” You go to hit his stomach with your fist but thanks to his rock hard abs you only end up hurting yourself. “Fuck! Ow! What’s under your shirt?” you yell over the music.

“Oh baby, you can find out. Should we go upstairs? I know a room.” He says with a wink.

The words ring a bell of familiarity in your head, each syllable echoing softly. A small smile forms on your lips and Jungkook gives you the softest smile in return. Did he just say the same line he used on you 3 years ago when you two met?

3 years ago

The music is booming so loudly you can’t even hear yourself think. This isn’t your first frat party and probably won’t be your last but you just can’t get use to it. You let your dormmate drag you to this stupid party only for her to ditch you in the first 10 minutes. Great.

You weave through the crowd trying to locate the kitchen to get your hands on the strongest drink you can find, lord knows you need it.

The kitchen is just as crowded as the rest of the house unfortunately. So many bodies. Bodies doing shots. Bodies doing shots off other bodies. Bodies playing games. Bodies grinding against other bodies. So many fucking bodies. It is honestly overwhelming. You walk towards the punch bowl, reaching for a red solo cup when another hand bumps into yours.

“Whoops sorry, go ahead.” The hand is attached to this boy—or man? Should you say man? He sure looks like one. He eyes you up and down before smiling down at you.

“Freshmen?” he asks.

You slump your shoulders, “Do I really look that outta place?” you pout.

“It’s not that…I just have a way of knowing.” He laughs. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

Namjoon, huh? He is cute that was for sure. “Y/N.” you say placing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Pretty!” he smiles, then his eyes look behind you. “Ay! Jungkook! What did I say?! No more Keg stands!!!!” Then Namjoon’s eyes are back on you, “Sorry Y/N gotta go, gotta take care of this brat.” Then walks past you to this mysterious Jungkook person.

Your eyes follow Namjoon as he rushes to whoever this Jungkook guy is. Namjoon pulls him to the side obviously scolding him for apparently doing too many keg stands. Jungkook looks like a small child who is about to get grounded, and you can’t help but giggle. Unfortunately, this caught Jungkook’s attention. He looks straight at you, his eyes narrowing. Wait a minute. You recognize him! He definitely looks like the same guy from your Lit class on Tuesday and Thursdays. Yup, you get one long good look at him and he is definitely the same heartthrob of a dude from your class. All the girls go crazy for this guy, you mean, you guess you get it. He is really hot. He’s got on a black t shirt and some ripped jeans, and tousled hair.

Jungkook looks at you again with furrowed brows then smirks. Fuck, you were staring. And got caught. You see Jungkook pat Namjoon on the shoulder a few times then walk past him, much to Namjoon’s annoyance.

And he’s walking towards….you. FUCK. In a total panic, you twirl around to face the wall, yes the fucking wall when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“’Scuse me?” a voice says from behind you. You’re not going to play dumb, you know who the voice probably belongs to. You stay facing the wall, like a fucking weirdo.

“Wanna turn around?” his voice is light and teasing and you can’t help the long release of breath before turning to face him. Wow. Up close he’s even more handsome….

“Hi?” you sputter out, completely unaware of how lame and shy you sound.

“Hey, like what you see?” he nods his head in the direction he just came from, clearly amused.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Apparently playing dumb is how you decide to go about this. You stare at him with a blank expression, swaying from side to side. Lucky for you it’s in beat with the music so you look kind of cool. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“I mean, you kept staring at me so.”

“No, its…it’s not like that”

“Then, what’s it like?”

“I just…I thought I recognized you so…” you wipe your sweaty hands on your black denim skirt. “That’s all.” You finish, still looking at him like you haven’t done anything weird tonight.

“Anderson’s Lit class right?” he asks with a pointed look. “I recognized you too.” His smirk does things to your lower half but you shouldn’t be admitting that right now.

“Oh?” is all you manage to say.

Jungkook studies you for a few moments, his gaze so dark and intimidating and you feel so flushed with his eyes on you. Then he groans with fingers rushing through his messy hair,

“Do you understand this week’s assignment?”

He…he wants to talk about school?

“Yes, I do. Because this assignment is wack as fuck.”

OH. You must of asked that out loud.

“Yes, you did.”

Oh, that too.

“Umm, yeah. What aren’t you understanding?” you finally say something relevant.

“It’s just more like, I think it’s a stupid assignment.” He chuckles, “Oh, you got something—” he reaches his hand forward to your hair, his fingers brushing through your long strands, pulling back with a piece of string. “Got it.” He says with a sly smile.

HOW CHEESY!!!! But like, it still made the heartbeat in your vagina go boom boom.

“Ya know…” he begins, his eyes never leaving yours as he talks. You actually don’t even know what he is talking about but his lips move so quickly you try to follow them. Your eyes on his lips the whole time, you don’t even realize it.

“…and that’s why I think it’s stupid.” He finally finishes with an obnoxious laugh. “Hey—hey are you even listening?” he says, his lips in a pout. You would know because they are all you’ve been staring at.

“Huh?” you blink lazily up at him, “Oh. Yeah. I totally agree.”

Jungkook stares at you seriously for a second before breaking out into a cackle, yes a cackle like he’s some hysterical witch. Which sounds really unattractive but honestly you’re digging it.

“It’s okay, you weren’t listening. I guess I’m not that interesting, huh?”

“No no! You are!” You’re quick to say, your hands waving frantically in front of you.

“Oh? So you do find me interesting?” he smirks, folding his arms across his chest.

You scoff at his words, appreciating his moves on you with a sly smile.

“Are you always this smooth?” you ask, a light teasing tone laced in your voice.

“Oh baby, you can find out. Should we go upstairs? I know a room.” He teases back.

Feeling so at home lost in your memories with Jungkook, you finally break free from the flashback. For some reason that’s a flashback you don’t mind reliving.

“Smooth.” You grin at Jungkook, you can’t help the blush that paints itself on your cheeks.

“For you? Always.” He grins back. You two just stare at one another, basking in the memories of your friendship.

“Okay, enough.” Jimin cuts in, his hands on both yours and Jungkook’s shoulders, “Either actually get a room and finally fuck or get on with your nights.”

You and Jungkook exchange awkward glances before turning towards the living room to join the party. Jimin is left at the houses entrance by the front door, totally dumbfounded. “these two idiots…” he scoffs under his breath, his eyes rolling so far back into his head.

Hours pass and you know what? The party isn’t as lame as you thought it might be. You are lost in the music on the living rooms dance floor with a red solo cup in one hand and your phone in the other.

“y/n!” you hear the call of one of your closest girlfriends.

“Trina!!!” you stumble towards her with a lopsided grin, you reach for her bringing her in for a long hug.

“Woah, someone’s drunk.” She laughs her loud laugh that you love so much. “And damn, the titty shirt is out tonight? Nice.”

“Not drunk” you giggle, and then continue to giggle again for no apparent reason.

“Right…” Trina slaps your back enthusiastically, “Where’s…” she then lowers her voice with a smirk, “lover boy?”

“who? Jungkook?” you ask with the tilt of your head.

Trina’s head pushes back with a confused expression, “What? No! I’m talking about…” she lowers her voice again, “Taehyung!”

OH. Right. You had texted Trina as soon as the whole ordeal with Taehyung unraveled. She knows of your long time crush and totally supports the idea of fake dating because as she puts it:

“Girl! This is your chance! Show him what a great girlfriend you would be, he would totally fall in love with you for real for real.”

And you have to say, you like where her head is at. Complete opposite of what Jungkook is always saying.

“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t see him around.” You sway side to side, your lit up phone catching your attention.

Jungkook 1:22am

Don’t come home tonight ;)

You can’t help but roll your eyes. How is he so quick?

Y/N 1:23am

Alreadyasydy tslked 2 Jiminie, staying w hum toniteeee.

Jungkook 1:24am

y/n…you’re not too drunk right?

Jungkook 1:27am

y/n????

You are back to shaking your ass with Trina by your side, the bass of the music thumping so loudly you can feel it vibrate your whole body. Body after body pushes into you, causing you to stumble every few seconds. But your grip on your refilled solo cup doesn’t loosen, not as you chug back your drink.

“Gonna grab another!” you slur, nodding your head towards the kitchen. Trina only gives you a thumbs up as she continues to dance with some random girl.

The walk to the kitchen feels like it’s taking forever, the way the walls swirl around you makes you feel sick. You stagger through the kitchens walk way when you feel two arms wrap around your middle.

“My girlfriend!” You hear the slur of words in your right ear, loud and clear.

You turn in the man’s hold with squinted eyes,

“Oh hi Tae.” You giggle, encasing him in a hug. Drunk y/n is way more confident. For some reason seeing him like this you don’t feel as nervous or awkward. Then you feel it. The weird, uncomfortable pang in your chest. Why is that? You look up at Taehyung when the sensation of guilt begins to surface. You remind yourself of the mission you’re on, completely ignoring the inner truth that tries to bubble over and smile at him.

Taehyung looks down at you with a goofy grin, his fingers digging into your waist to keep you steady.

“Oh, you’re drunk drunk.” He teases.

“Am not!” you shake away your confusing thoughts and giggle some more. “wanna take a shot with me?” you excitedly ask him, nodding in the direction of the liquor bottles.

“Hell yeah girl!” he says, taking your hand and leading you towards the counter.

“Y/N are you okay????” Taehyung voice is laced in concern as he holds you. Yes, the Kim Taehyung is holding you. “Shit, I shouldn’t have let you drink this much….” But like in a totally pathetic way.

“You…” you lean back, hitting his chest with your pointer finger, “Don’t tell me how much I can or can’t drink!” your voice buzzes as you fall forward but Taehyung catches you again.

“Right right…” he chuckles but then he looks concerned again. “We need to get you home…let’s call Jungkook.”

“No! we caaaannnnoottt do that…” your words are all jumbled together, Taehyung has a hard time understanding you.

“Where’s your phone?”

“Back pocket.” You wink. Like a fucking sleaze.

Taehyung looks conflicted, but in the end he reaches around for your phone and turns it on.

“Holy shit y/n… you have 8 missed calls from Jungkook. And whole lotta texts.”

Jungkook 1:30am

Are you okay??

Jungkook 1:40am

y/n…Youre a big girl so ill just assume youre okay.

Jungkook 3:02am

Just talked to jimin and you aren’t with him?? where are u??

Jungkook 3:18am

Answer your fukin phone

Jungkook 3:23am

Are you still at the party?

Jungkook 3:41am

You aren’t with Trina either? y/n where are you?

Jungkook 4:00am

Don’t make me go back there….pls just answer your phone so I know if youre like, idk fucking alive

Jungkook 4:10am

Fine im going to look for you

“Fuck.” Taehyung hisses under his breath. “I gotta call him…I’m gonna call him okay?”

Your eyes go comically wide at Taehyungs words.

“No!”

“too late” he says, the phone to his hear.

“Hey man, no its me…Taehyung, yeah…yeah….she….” Taehyung eyes you carefully as he speaks on the phone, “She’s fine. She just has had maybe too much to dri—” Taehyung drags a hand down his tired face, “No for fucks sake I didn’t do anything to her. Really dude?”

You lean into Taehyungs space, trying to put your ear to the phone as well and Taehyung can’t help but laugh.

“I read all your texts to be honest…if you have a girl over…what? No, I’m saying y/n can just stay with me…”

Stay with Taehyung? That should make your heart race but—

You think all the alcohol is catching up to you at once and the world becomes even more blurred and a spinning mess. You would give anything to be cuddled up in your blankets with Jungkook taking care of you—wait, no. You don’t need Jungkook to take care of you. You have a perfectly good Taehyung who just offered his place to you.

“I swear man, I’ll take care of h—” Taehyung rolls his eyes, “she might be too drunk to talk….okay, I’ll ask her.” Taehyung lowers the phone and faces you.

“y/n.”

“Hm?” you blink lazily, swaying into Taehyungs chest. Oh no. You feel it, you feel the nausea building up in your tummy, making its way up your chest. On a scale of 1 to 10 how dead would you die if you threw up on Taehyung?

“Do you want Jungkook to come pick you up?”

Jungkook? Like, your Jungkook? Unfortunately for you, your eyes gloss over and probably also unfortunate for Taehyung as well as he looks at you with an alarmed expression . You feel sick. You want to go home. You want to sit on your bathroom floor and throw up in the toilet with Jungkook sitting next to you while he hums a soft tune to soothe you.

“Y-Yes.” You murmur shyly, you begin to sniffle and Taehyung begins to panic.

“Okay man yeah come pick her up.”

“want Jungkook…” you say as a few tears spill over. You are trying your hardest to keep the puke down but its threatening to exit your poor drunk body.

“I think she’s gonna be sick so please hurry…” Taehyung rushes to say over the phone before hanging up.

The next few minutes are a blur, you know Taehyung rushes you to the bathroom. He is overly sweet the whole time you see nothing but blurred, spinning images. He holds your hair back as your body threatens to release tonight’s dinner and says comforting words but nothing makes you feel better. The puke won’t make its guest appearance and your whole world is spinning at a inhumane pace. You’re about to give up on life and fall to the bathroom floor of this gross frat house and try to sleep when you hear him.

“Lemme in dude.” It’s Jungkook. You stir from your sleepy state and turn your head towards the door. He barges in, his eyes landing on you and they soften. He immediately falls to the floor to caress the back of your head and you immediately begin to sob. The tears are out of your control as they slide down your cheeks.

“Don’t...don’t...feel good.” You say between wails, gripping desperately onto his shirt.

“I know baby, I know.” He pulls you into his chest, his hand soothingly running up and down your back. “Has she thrown up yet?” Jungkook looks up at Taehyung with expectant eyes. Taehyung is so caught off guard while watching the two of you.

“uh, no.”

“Okay, can you leave us alone for a while?” Jungkook says somewhat harshly then his features soften as he whispers “She will probably be embarrassed later if you saw…”

“Right.” Taehyung says, his worried expression not going unnoticed by Jungkook. Then Taehyung is on his way out, but he turns one last time to get a look at you.

“feel better y/n” then he is out the door, shutting it behind him.

“Okay y/n…remember what you gotta do?”

“finger?” you slur.

“Yup. Put your finger…yes like that,” he says as you begin to push your finger down your throat to get yourself to throw up.

“I promise you’ll feel better.”

You begin gagging on your finger as you finally throw up in the toilet, Jungkook rubbing your back the entire time giving you words of encouragement.

“Good girl, good girl.” He whispers.

Your face is a fucking mess. Your makeup smeared beyond belief. The black streaks from your tears marking your cheeks in the most horrific way. Jungkook watches you as you cry into his lap on the floor, his heart breaking at the sight. He hated when you drank too much and got like this. He should of never left you alone tonight.

“Jungkook?” you choke out, your tears still spilling from your dark eyes.

“Hm?” he responds, his fingers brushing back your hair.

“Did I ruin your night? Or did you still get some?” you chuckle pathetically.

“Don’t worry about that.” He brushes more hair out of your face, he lifts your head up and places it on a towel. He stands to his feet at the sink, reaching for a towelette and running it under warm water.

“Gonna clean your face okay?” he warns softly.

“kay…” you close your eyes when you feel the wet warmth of the towelette on your cheek. Jungkook is careful to clean you delicately, wiping away the makeup and leaving you spotless.

He’s back under you, your head in his lap and his hands back in your hair.

“you told me you were going to be with Jimin tonight yet you were with Taehyung…”

“It just happened like that” you whisper, sleep beginning to take over.

“I was…really worried about you when I didn’t hear from you, stupid.”

You smile at his words, his touch making you melt.

“Ya know, you’re not the only one allowed to get some Jungkook. I can be like you and have sex too if I want.”

“What are you talking about?” his hand stops in your hair.

“Would if I was getting some? That’s why I didn’t answer?”

“Were you?” his voice is low.

“Well, no—”

“Okay good.”

“Why is that good? Hm?” you open your eyes just a little bit, taking in the hazy world. “Wish it was you I was getting it on with?” you say quietly.

“You’re drunk.”

“I wanna go home.”

“take a nap first, okay?” his fingers begin playing in your hair again, “I’ll wake you up in 30 minutes.”

Your eyes are already closed when he says this, sleep already welcoming you in its warm embrace. “Kay” you murmur.

Jungkook plays with your hair as you snooze in his lap, he watches the rise and fall of your chest and wonders what it would be like to lay his head on it and sleep too.

Bbrrrr bbbrrrrr bbrrrr brrrrrr

A phone call. The most horrifying buzzing occurs next to your face as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Wait, how did you get home last night? You remember drinking and dancing the night away, you remember hanging out with Taehyung…oh no, you remember Jungkook coming to the rescue. Oh no...

You try to open your eyes, but the light from the sun is too damn blinding. You squint at what is in view. Right in front of you, you see black locks of hair poking out of the blanket, a dark blue blanket. You recognize this blanket. Jungkook’s blanket. You are in Jungkook’s bed. With Jungkook. This isn’t so surprising, you imagine you had refused to sleep in your own bed last night—

Bbbrrrr bbbrrrr brrrr brrrrr

Right. Your phone.

You fumble the phone trying to pick it up and answer it when Jungkook groans next to you,

“Hurry up and answer it” he says, sliding deeper under the covers.

“Hello?” you croak out, your voice hoarse and honestly? Disgusting.

“Hey y/n!” This voice is way too damn chipper for whatever ungodly hour it is.

“Tae?”

“Good afternoon sleepy head! Did I wake you?” Afternoon? What time is it? You pull the phone away from your face to check the time.

2:06pm

Holy shit, you’ve slept the day away.

“No no,” you lie, “Just in bed…” you say sitting up from where you lay.

“Great! Do you think maybe I could…come over? We can discuss the whole fake dating thing.” He chuckles into the phone. COME OVER? Immediately you begin smoothing down your hair with your free hand and start to peel back the covers to get out of bed.

“Umm, when?” you glance over at sleeping Jungkook, his face mostly hidden behind the blanket.

“Maybe around 6? I could cook you dinner? I know you had a rough night…”

Fucking great. You don’t want to think of last night, you will die of fucking embarrassment.

“yeah…listen, you don’t have to do all that—”

“I want to!” Taehyung is quick to cut you off, “As your boyfriend—fake boyfriend it is my duty to take care of you!” you feel like you can see the boxy smile on his face. It makes you motherfucking swoon.

“Okay then, 6.” You smile into the phone. “Bye tae.”

You bring the phone down into your lap, clicking the end button. Dinner with Taehyung? Like a date? You can’t help but feel internally giddy at the thought. You squeal for a second before Jungkook speaks up.

“What’s at 6?” he peeks from under the covers, his voice husky and groggy.

“Oh… nothing” you sing, a bright smile on your face.

“Something with Tae?” he begins to sit himself up as well.

“We’re just going to have dinner and talk about the whole fake dating thing.” You beam.

“You’re still doing that shit?”

Automatically you go from super excited to annoyed. Only Jungkook can do that to you.

“It’s harmless, Jungkook. Plus…”

“plus what?” he raises a single brow.

“Trina says this is a good opportunity…”

“y/n I have told you not to get too involved with this guy, but you don’t listen to me.” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest, then bows his head down in defeat.

“But whatever, learn your fucking lessons by yourself.”

You can’t help but feel like Jungkook is once again looking down at you, like you aren’t good enough for Taehyung. Your breaths become unsteady as you just stare at your best friend like he isn’t constantly hurting your feelings on the matter.

“I—I will be fine. I want him, Jungkook. And this is—this is a good opportunity to show him I can be a good enough girlfriend ya know—”

“Just stop.” Jungkook cuts you off in a harsh tone. “I never said you weren’t good enough? You’re just not what he wants.” Jungkook can see how his words break you further. “Fuck. Forget I said that, y/n…”

“Why can’t he want me?”

Jungkook hates just how quietly you ask that…he hates how defeated you sound, how defeated you look…your head hanging low with no attempt to even look at him.

“He’s just…”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t answer that” You stand from the bed and begin walking towards his door. You look down to see you’re wearing nothing but Jungkook’s t shirt and some panties, you groan at your own shamelessness when you hear the rushed ruffling of the comforter behind you and the plop of feet landing on the ground. Jungkook stands behind you, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

“Just move on y/n…”

I’m fucking trying to, is what you want to say but instead you opt for a harsh ‘leave me alone’ as you exit his room.

You spend the next couple of hours pampering yourself, you had a rough night and you totally deserve a piece of cake, this bubble bath and face mask. You want to feel relaxed but you can’t get the image of Jungkook out of your head. You hate it when the two of you fight. You mean, to others this would hardly come off as a ‘fight’ but you and Jungkook never really have negative energy. So, yes. It’s a fight. He’s the last person in the world you want to fight with. Yet here you are.

But then the image of Taehyung cooking you dinner enters your mind and somehow you feel a little more at ease. Was this a date? You giggle to yourself, blowing bubbles that reaches your lips as you sink deeper into the tub. You have an hour before Taehyung was to arrive at your apartment…your shared apartment. God, you hope Jungkook takes a hint and goes and hangs out with Jimin or something.

You finally rise from the tub and dry off your now freshly cleansed body. The scent of lavender fills the air and you feel satisfied with how your bath turned out.

You read the clock…5:30pm and you know it’s time to get dressed.

You settle for some high waisted shorts and a white tank top with a purple bralette where the straps are generously shown. Looking into the mirror, you decide to do light makeup and tinted lip balm. You don’t want to try too hard for the boy you’re trying to woo.

And bam. 6pm right on the dot you hear the door being lightly knocked. You begin walking towards the front door but stop to see if Jungkook is in his room or not. He’s not. Relief washes over you as you continue to walk towards the front door. But where did he go? You’re relieved he isn’t home but feel anxious that you don’t know where he could have gone. Maybe to Jimin’s? Maybe to some random girls? Somehow this makes you feel more anxious. You shake away those thoughts and swing the front door open.

“Hey there.” Taehyungs boxy grin is enough to get you pregnant. Like, god damn. He looks amazing. He’s got dress pants and some floral shirt and his hair looks slightly wet. That’s not the only thing slightly wet. You internally cringe at your thought.

“Hey Tae, come on in.” you open the door wider to let the boy through. He walks past you and makes himself comfortable in the kitchen, setting down a bag of what you assume is probably groceries.

“You like spaghetti?” he asks excitedly, almost like a child.

“Who doesn’t?” you smirk walking his way and sitting down at the breakfast table. “Need any help?” you offer.

“Not at all.” Taehyung begins unpacking his things and gets to work in the kitchen. You watch in awe, your head nuzzled in your hands as he does his thing.

“Dinner was amazing Tae.” You go to compliment the chef. It really was. The noodles were long and soft and the sauce was very flavorful. Did you really just compliment the length and softness of fucking noodles? Wow, you are whipped. You almost wish Taehyung was your roommate and not useless in the kitchen Jungkook. Oh. Jungkook. The thought of him enters your mind and it has you hurting. You may be having a blast with your crush but you and your best friend are still in the middle of a fight. About said crush. But this really is your chance. You can get Taehyung to like you, maybe even fall for you. And you need this. You need this. So you can’t give up, no matter what Jungkook says.

“Not as amazing as you” Taehyung winks but then his face drops, “Sorry that was cheesy, wasn’t it?” he drags a hand down his handsome face. “I suck at flirting.”

You look up at him, completely intrigued.

“You’re trying to flirt with me?” you can’t help but to smile slyly.

“Of course I am!” Taehyung laughs loudly then reaches for his backpack in the chair next to his and pulls out a notebook.

“So I wrote some ideas for this whole fake dating thing.” He becomes just a tad more serious as a nervous grin lights up his face.

“Oh really? Should I have a look?” you say reaching for the notebook with grabby hands, “Gimme!”

Taehyung chuckles while pulling the notebook to his chest, “No! Miss Greedy.” He teases. “How about I just read them and we can discuss?”

“fine.” You pout, “Whatever you say.”

“Whatever I say? I like the sound of that.” He smirks then his eyes fall to the paper in front of him. “First, we should go on dates…like all the time. The more time we spend together the more believable it’ll be. Ya know?”

“Okay, makes sense. Makes sense.”

“Second, we should attend all parties together and leave together too.” Then his eyes go wide, “I just mean—like don’t worry, I’ll make sure I get you home.”

You can’t help but giggle, nodding your head to his words.

“Third, we should post each other on social media! For example, I can take a picture of tonight’s date and post it on the gram.”

“Tonight was a date?” you ask, a delighted smile making its way on your face.

“Well, yeah…” he answers shyly.

“anything else?” you question, leaning your head in your hands as you look into his big brown eyes.

“Well….. there is one more thing I wrote down….” He answers awkwardly. His eyes sliding to the side to avert your gaze.

“oh? What is it?” you try to take a peek at the paper, curiosity getting the best of you—as usual.

“I’ll just let you read it…” he then pushes the notebook on the table in your direction, you excitedly pick it up and skim the paper. You look at all the things he wrote down, smiling because he even added his own tips.

Buy her flowers.

Movie dates?

Netflix and chill

Cook her dinner

How cute. He even added little doodles. Your eyes continue to skim the page as your smile grows at how much thought he has put into this. Your heart is beating out of your chest…you know this is all fake and for show but you cannot help how happy its making you feel. You continue to smile and hum as your eyes skim lower and lower until you see the last thing on his list.

No Jungkook.

Huh? Your smile begins to falter. No Jungkook? What does that even mean? You look up to meet Taehyungs eyes. He’s already anxiously staring at you.

“I don’t understand?” you breathe out, “What does that mean?”

“No Jungkook.” He half whispers.

“You—you realize he is my best friend? Why no Jungkook?” you pinch your brows together in confusion.

“It’s just…” Taehyung begins to explain himself, “You two are awfully close. And people already get the wrong idea about you two. Like, all the fucking time. Even I think sometimes…that’s not important. It just means for one month, you’re mine. And I don’t want people to get the wrong idea if you’re always with Jungkook.” He pulls at the hair at his neck. “Is this making sense?” Taehyung looks flustered trying to get out all of his words.

“It would make me look pathetic don’t you think? That my supposed girlfriend is always with some other guy? I mean, y/n it’s just for one month…”

One month without Jungkook? Would you really choose a boy over your best friend? Even if only for a month?

“Tae… I don’t know.” You look down at your hands as your breathing begins to pick up.

“I can’t just abandon my best friend for an entire month…”

“I mean, you guys live together so it’s not like you won’t be seeing him. Just in public…ya know?”

Taehyung has a point, you try to reason. If you have a boyfriend it’s only natural to spend most of your time with them. But it still felt wrong. But… a part of you feels like this is a good idea, actually. You’ve always been meaning to put at least some distance between you and Jungkook, ya know, for your own sake. But this feels wrong. You’re about to decline his request when you hear the front door open and Jungkook’s shuffles in. He has his airpods in and doesn’t even spare you a glance. He walks straight to his bedroom and slams the door shut.

You feel embarrassed in front of your guest that your roommate and also yeah, your best fucking friend didn’t even acknowledge you.

“Uh, he’s in a mood” you try covering for Jungkook. Then you feel the buzz of your phone and you go to check it

Jungkook 8:02pm

Watching you fawn over him is just pathetic, but like, good luck.

All you see is red. Jungkook once again shitting on your love life and raining on your god damn parade. You know what? This is your chance with Taehyung and you aren’t going to let your bratty best friend ruin that for you.

“You know what, Tae?” you say setting your phone on the table.

“Yeah?”

“You’re right. I agree with your list.”

“Wait—you do? Even the Jung—”

“Yup.”

Taehyung tilts his head to the side as a wide grin makes its way across his face, “should we shake on it?” he asks with his hand pushed out in front of you.

You take his hand in yours, squeezing tightly before you pull him in and seal the deal with a quick kiss. Taehyung’s shocked expression makes you giggle, “Thought that would make it more official”

“I like having you as a girlfriend already.”

One month without Jungkook? Bring it on.

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader

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bomberqueen17 · 2 years

Text

back home

got back to buffalo in time for it to start snowing. accumulation around an inch out there. great. thanks. happy spring.

have horrible menstrual cramps. was woken by the pain the night before last, woke up to an ao3 comment in my inbox, and some miracle stayed my hand-- i was like oh reading that would make me feel better, and then some little mental gremlin was like no don’t do it what if it’s mean, and so i did not read it and went back to sleep and thank heavens, when i finally woke enough to read it, it was an entire comment about... i’m not sure, i had assumed they were asking me to tag better, but as i puzzled through i’ve realized they just don’t like that i mentioned a canon aspect of a character and felt i should have either elided or altered that detail, which again is a canon bit of that character, so I’m left rather confused and frankly a bit cranky about that. like if y’all want me to tag for something I will, but I’m not going to not mention a thing????? or like. only mention it to these heretofore unguessable standards?????? so buckle up I may have another Canon Explainer post later-- I do realize a lot of people read my shit without super knowing the canon sources and I am trying not to wind up putting out a skewed idea of what’s actually in canon vs what I’ve made up and that’s an uphill struggle and the solution is More Essays, whee.

anyway. also yes i do realize i missed another Friday update, and it’ll be Monday instead probably, except. heh.

so a couple weeks ago it was mentioned to Dude that he might be selected to go to California for a work thing, and he was like oh it won’t be me going i’m not worried, and then he failed to check his fucking work email about it and in fact is leaving at 5am Monday morning for the week, and so we had to abruptly pack up and leave the farm and then I had to scramble yesterday immediately following our six-hour drive home to do a week and a half of travel laundry so it has time to dry so he can pack today, and then I have to take him to the airport and then I’m on my own for this week. So.

anyway I’m feeling stressed and distressed and I’m in a lot of pain and am quite exhausted and I really don’t need someone arguing that their personal trauma means I should change how I tell stories. Like, I have sympathy, but also, that is not something I can either anticipate or accomodate.

Also like. most of my adult coping methods that let me fake competence in this world are built on a framework of Dude being really into habits and routines, so I will probably not sleep or eat while he is gone, and I am grimly not looking forward to that. He’s like.... you leave me alone all the time and i’m like yes, and i leave you and go to a house full of my family where they tell me what to do and regularly feed me, so. We’ll see how I do. If anyone wants to drop off a casserole so I don’t starve... ha i’ll probably compulsively save it and starve anyway. (I literally have a casserole in the freezer right now and i was just talking myself out of defrosting it.)

also i have to unpack everything from my vacation, and my supervisor is going on vacation this upcoming week too and so not only will i have all my stuff waiting for me to do but i will also have to do his, and i had no notice of that either, so i’m just really. like i’m Pre-Tired for this coming week. 😭

so anyway the monday update is like-- i have a bunch of stuff written but one thing is going to need like a new work created and title and tags and summary and now i’m just in this pile of Doubt, maybe I don’t know how to tag things properly, maybe this is more complicated than i thought, and I’m so tired and I’m working very hard to be polite but I’m also so fucking tired.

#about the author #fic writing #online and real lives

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ailendolin · 2 years

Text

Whump Wednesday - 13 - Yonderland

Title: Tea [AO3]

Fandom: Yonderland

Characters: Ho-Tan & Voltari, background Vex/Ho-Tan and Dissectus/Voltari

Prompt: Ho-Tan helps Voltari feel a little more at home after he and Dissectus seek asylum with the Elders. - Idea by me.

Warnings: description of bruises, brief mentions of transphobia

A/N: This is sort of a follow-up to my Dissectus/Voltari fic Brave but you don't have to read it to understand this story. All you need to know is that Cuddly Dick hurt Voltari with his own eye piece in that fic and that's where the bruises come from.

Prompts are open, so if you want me to write a story for you just send me an ask with the fandom, characters and your prompt. I’m writing for Ghosts, Yonderland, Horrible Histories and Bill at the moment.

Six Idiots Whump Wednesday fics so far:

Comfort - Gabriel/Ian - “I brought you a blanket.”

Sharing - Vex/Ho-Tan “How long has it been since you slept?”

Cold Touch Part 1 - Thomas & Nigel - Nigel finds out Thomas's wound pains him.

Cold Touch Part 2 - Thomas & Nigel - Nigel finds a way to help Thomas.

Just you wait - Mike Peabody, Sam & Bob Hale - Mike is running himself into the ground and Sam and Bob find out why."

Constant - Gabriel and Bill - Bill and Gabriel talk out their feelings post kidnapping.

————

Tea

Ho-Tan was standing in the kitchen, pouring herself a cup of tea when she heard the sound of almost silent footsteps out in the hallway. She paused and listened as they came closer and then abruptly stopped outside the open door.

“Oh,” Voltari said.

Holding the steaming mug tightly between her hands, Ho-Tan smiled and turned around to face him. “Would you like some tea as well? I made enough for two.”

Voltari stood frozen on the threshold, staring at her as if the slightly chipped mug in her hand – an old, beloved gift from Vex to celebrate the arrival of her Younger – was a weapon she might use against him any second now. It was obvious he hadn’t expected anyone to be up so late, even before he stiffly said, “Apologies. I thought everyone had already gone to bed.

Ho-Tan made sure her smile didn’t waver when she nodded. “The others have but I have trouble sleeping sometimes. Tea helps.” She lifted her mug as if to prove her point before she added a little more softly, “And so does company.”

Pulling a chair out for herself, she sat down and quietly began to sip her tea. The offer was on the table. There was nothing for her to do but wait now. Either Voltari would join her or he wouldn’t. The choice was up to him.

Ho-Tan would be the first to admit to being sceptical when Negatus’s cover had been blown and he’d suggested they recruit Dissectus and Voltari into their ranks. Recruiting Dissectus she had understood: he had been the one to discover Negatus was a spy. One word from him to Cuddly Dick and their whole plan would have failed, so they had granted him asylum in return for him pretending to be dead so Negatus could continue his work.

Voltari, though …

There had been no reason to involve him at all, really. He hadn’t known about Negatus, had been in no position to rat him out and thus no danger to them. And yet Dissectus had insisted on including him – had in fact made it his primary condition for their deal.

The whole thing hadn’t made sense until Dissectus had actually joined them. Then the puzzle pieces finally fell into place – at least if someone knew what to look for, and Ho-Tan was nothing if not observant. She noticed how Dissectus wrung his hands every time Voltari was due to report in and hung onto his every word once the radio crackled to life; she saw him pull Voltari aside and into a quick but heartfelt hug after the whole mess with Cuddly Dick was finally over and evil had been defeated once more; and most importantly, she saw the way he looked at Voltari whenever he believed himself unobserved.

She was sure Dissectus cared for Voltari, perhaps more than he’d like to admit. Love was the reason he’d insisted on Voltari’s involvement. Dissectus had wanted a place for both of them in this world after the dust had settled; a chance at a new life together, free from their pasts. As far as Ho-Tan was concerned, they had earned that chance. The intel they had given her and the others had been far better than anything Negatus had or could possibly have provided them. Voltari’s intel, not to mention the false rumours he had spread to help their cause, had been especially in the end. He had known exactly what needed to be done and managed to pull it off by hiding in plain sight.

Voltari was not only good at what he was doing – he excelled at it. Sometimes, a little too much, Ho-Tan thought as she remembered a moment, not so long ago, where Dissectus had told him to be careful over the radio.

“You’re still hurt –“ he had said only to be cut off with a hissed, “I’m fine,” before Voltari had abruptly ended the transmission.

Back then, no one had dared to ask what Dissectus had meant. Once peace had been restored and Voltari had come to stay with them, they had no more reason to ask because the answer had been there for everyone to see in the dark bruises around Voltari’s metal-covered eye.

Even now, after a week of living together, they showed no signs of fading.

It must hurt terribly, Ho-Tan thought to herself. She blew on her tea before she took another sip, carefully watching Voltari out of the corner of her eyes. He was still hovering by the door, and when he finally moved, she was surprised it wasn’t to leave but to join her at the table.

Ho-Tan offered him another smile. “I’ll get you a mug.”

She was out of her chair before he could protest. Grabbing the rainbow-coloured mug Debbie had gotten her last year, she filled it nearly to the brim. Voltari looked like he could use a warm drink – and a little more colour in his life couldn’t hurt either.

“Here you go,” she said and set the mug down in front of him. “I hope you like fruit tea.”

“Thank you,” Voltari said. He didn’t meet her eyes but that was alright. Ho-Tan knew he was still having a hard time finding his footing after his whole life had been turned upside down. Dissectus had been the same when he came to them, and a very long time ago, Vex had been like that too. It must be scary, she thought, to turn your back on everything you’ve known and start anew. Especially when people tended to take one look at you and see only your past and the person you used to be.

She knew what that felt like. Her own parents still saw the boy they had brought into the world when they looked at her, not the woman she had become. It hurt, every single time she went over and had dinner with them, but the pain never lasted – because the others were always waiting for her when she came home afterwards, sometimes with her favourite dessert, sometimes with a cup of tea but always with a hug. Vex would tell her how brave and strong she was, how loving despite everything that had happened and continued to happen between her and her parents, and Ho-Tan would trust his word over theirs any time.

She felt safe and loved here, among the family she had found for herself, and she wanted the same for Dissectus and Voltari. This was their home now and, whether they realised it or not, they would never be judged here for their past.

“I picked the ingredients myself,” she said conversationally, hoping to put Voltari at ease by filling the silence between them with idle chatter. “You could come with me the next time, if you’d like. The woods are beautiful this time of year.”

Voltari’s fingers tightened around the mug. “Perhaps.”

It wasn’t a yes but it also wasn’t a no, so Ho-Tan chose to take it as a win. She continued to sip her tea, searching for something else to say, when a muscle beneath the skin around Voltari’s eye piece suddenly twitched. He closed his other eye in pain – an involuntary reaction he hadn’t meant for her to see, Ho-Tan was sure – and she watched in worried silence as he unclenched fingers from the mug and adjusted the eye piece with a wince.

She waited until the tension had drained from his face and his hands returned to his mug before she said softly, “You don’t have to keep wearing that here if you don’t want to. We won’t mind.”

It was the wrong thing to say because as soon as the words had left her mouth Voltari’s whole body tensed up again.

“But I do,” he snarled.

A lot lay hidden in these three words – a history of fear, mistrust and loneliness. Ho-Tan couldn’t even imagine hiding the most vulnerable pieces of herself around the other Elders and yet for Voltari it was second nature; terrifyingly, horribly normal. It made her heart ache.

“I won’t pry, and I won’t tell you what to do,” she said very carefully, knowing all too she was treading unknown waters here. “But I can see the eye piece is causing you pain, Voltari, and I won’t lie and say that doesn’t worry me.”

“Why?” Voltari asked. “What reason would you have to worry about me of all people?”

The words, the sheer confusion behind them, broke Ho-Tan’s heart. She reached into her pocket where the little project she had been working on for the past two days rested, nearly finished. Her fingers brushed against soft fabric – the softest she could find after she realized the weren’t fading like they should be. She didn’t know if this was the right moment to give him this gift but she couldn’t just stand by and do nothing, not when she had a solution to the problem literally in her hand.

Her fingers wrapped around the handsewn eye patch.

“Because I care, Voltari,” she said and pushed it across the table towards him. “We all do.”

There was an unreadable expression on Voltari’s face as he stared down at the black piece of fabric in front of him. Ho-Tan had chosen golden thread for the seams in the hope that the familiar colours would make the transition easier for Voltari. She had been planning on adding a little embroidery to it as well but that would have to wait now. Voltari’s comfort was more important than aesthetics.

“You don’t have to wear it,” Ho-Tan said softly. She returned her hands to her mug when Voltari remained quiet. “I just thought you might be more comfortable with it.”

Draining the last dregs of her tea, she stood up and placed the mug in the sink. She turned to her silent companion and offered him one last smile. “Goodnight, Voltari.”

Voltari didn’t look up when she left.

At least I’ve tried, Ho-Tan thought with a sigh as her feet carried her not to her own bedchamber but to Vex’s with a heavy heart, instinctively knowing she needed company and reassurance right now. Vex stirred a little when she slipped into bed behind him but he settled the moment she wrapped her arms around his chest and reached for his hand.

“I love you so much,” she whispered into his ear, beyond grateful that in all the years they had known each other she never had reason to hide anything from him, not her feelings nor her true self. Vex murmured something soft and unintelligible in his sleep and before she closed her eyes and finally succumbed to sleep Ho-Tan pressed a chaste but loving kiss against his neck.

When she dragged herself into the kitchen the next morning, she didn’t know what surprised her more: the fact that Voltari was already there, waiting for her with a steaming mug of tea in his hands, or that he was wearing the eye patch she had made for him.

“I wanted to show my gratitude,” he explained rather stiffly and held out the mug to her – her favourite, Ho-Tan noted; the first one Vex had ever given her.

She took it with a grateful smile and took a careful sip before she nodded at the eye patch. “How does it fit? I can easily adjust the straps if they are too tight or too loose.”

“No, there’s not need. It’s … it’s perfect,” Voltari said. “Comfortable. Just like you said.”

Ho-Tan’s smile widened. “I’m glad to hear that.”

She put down her mug.

“Want to help me get breakfast ready? I have a feeling this peace and quiet won’t last much longer.”

Voltari’s lips twitched with the faint beginnings of a smile. “Yes, I think I’d like that.”

#scribe elder ho tan #voltari #wise elder vex #dissectus #yonderland #vextan #disstari #my fic #whump wednesday #tw: transphobia #tw: bruises #WWFF challenge

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btsrunmylife · 3 years

Text

In The Dog House (a one shot)

Word Count: 4,628

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Smut

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Seokjin x f!Reader

Summary: You truly, truly hate your neighbor. He’s loud, distracting, and he spoils your dog. What will happen when you finally confront him???

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex (be safe, friends), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, slight degradation (maybe?), and hints of voyeurism if you squint.

Cross-posted to AO3.

It’s happening again.

You groan and roll off the couch, heading toward the backdoor of your little, rented townhouse. You push aside the curtain to peer out at the backyard, where you have a small fence set up for your Lhasa Apso Pomeranian mix to run around. At the moment, she’s yipping and hopping at the edge of the fence, tail wagging and body wiggling with all her might to get your neighbor’s attention.

Your neighbor.

Truly, your dog’s behavior is all his fault. Normally so quiet and well-behaved after years of training, Nari’s good manners fly out the window the second she sees him.

You wish you could say it’s because your dog is overly friendly, but while that’s true, it’s not the reason she gets so excited. No, that would be because of the bag of treats your neighbor keeps hidden on his back porch.

He doesn’t even own a dog.

Your eyes narrow when you see the man loping toward your yard, said bag of treats in hand. A part of you was touched the first few times he’d given your little angel a treat. You fully believe, as any pet owner would, that she deserves the world. However, this little thing has become a routine. One that has spoiled your little pup into thinking every stranger is going to poof a bag of treats out of thin air for her.

To be frank, it completely ruined her training, and her incessant barking every time she goes outside is grating on your nerves

So, you do the only logical thing there is -- you stare broodingly out the window every time he feeds them to her, hoping he can feel the hatred you have for him prickling at his skin.

Of course, that never happens. As powerful as you’d like to believe you are, you can’t shoot daggers out of your eyes or breathe fire out your nostrils.

And he certainly can’t read your mind.

If he could, he would have stopped giving your dog treats after the seventh time it’d happened.

He also probably would have been blushing profusely every time you imagined his handsome face between your thighs.

You wonder if he would act on it if he knew, but you banish the thought as it comes. He’s your neighbor. An annoying one at that.

You sigh in relief when he finally turns to leave -- but not before giving Nari a final scratch between the ears.

Your first mistake is opening the door to call for your dog before your neighbor’s safely in his house. The second is freezing when he turns around to smile at you and wave.

You don’t respond for a good few moments, continuing to stare even as Nari’s soft fur is brushing past your ankles on her way inside. When your neighbor’s eyebrows start to furrow in confusion, you clear your throat and lift a hand in greeting before adamantly slamming your door shut.

Like you said.

So annoying.

*~*~*

Annoying and stupid, that’s what your neighbor is.

A few days later, you open the back door to let Nari out and, suddenly, she’s going absolutely crazy. You peer outside, wondering what the hell has gotten into her, when you notice what’s got her so hyped up.

There’s a whole bag of treats in your sweet, little baby’s pen.

A whole bag.

Why?

Scowling, you stomp over to the far side of the fence, closest to your neighbor’s yard, and snatch the bag off the ground before Nari can successfully tear into it. You glare at the back door of his home, which is clearly dark and empty.

Of course, you know this is probably some sort of kind gesture, but seriously? Who throws an entire bag of treats into someone’s yard? Not only would it be catastrophic if Nari ate the entire thing in one go, but what if some sort of animal had gotten into the fence?

What if the smell attracted other dogs?

The possibilities are endless and you really can’t help but wonder what goes on in your neighbor’s ridiculously (and admittedly attractive) thick head.

And what did he think? That you couldn’t afford to buy your dog treats?

With Nari jumping at the bag in your arms, you stomp your way back into your house and slam the door behind you, adamant about giving your neighbor a piece of your mind the next time you see him.

This shit has got to stop.

*~*~*

It stops. The treat giving gloriously, gloriously stops.

The spoiling of your little baby, however, does not.

A few days later, when you walk outside to let your little Nari in, you spot not one, but six tennis balls of various sizes in her pen.

And, of course, she’s going right to town on one of them

It squeaks.

And when you let Nari inside, the ball she brings in with her and refuses to put down continues to squeak.

All. Night. Long.

You’re going to kill your neighbor.

You’ve, quite honestly, had enough! Why is he so hellbent on spoiling your dog anyway? If he loves dogs so much, he should get one of his own! Clearly he knows what they like!

Groaning after your very long, very sleepless night, you trudge over toward the coffee pot and get it going before letting Nari outside. Your eyes widen when you see your neighbor in his yard, doing some sort of yoga routine that he’s supremely bad at.

You quirk your head, eyes trained on his uncoordinated movements. His sense of balance isn’t terrible, but…yeah, that’s not how you do a downward dog…or a warrior pose. He’s very likely to hurt himself at this rate.

You’re still staring when Nari spots him, yipping and bouncing excitedly at the edge of the fence. A broad grin spreads across your neighbor’s lips, his sharp laugh bursting into the quiet morning. He rights himself, pulling himself out of whatever pose he’d been trying to do, and stretches his back while waving at the small dog.

“Good morning! How’s my princess doing?”

Wait, did you just hear him right?

His princess?

Nari is most certainly not his anything.

She’s yours, and you’re seconds away from opening your mouth to tell him so when his attention drifts to you in the doorway. It’s not until his eyes are traveling over you that you remember you haven’t quite…well, gotten dressed yet.

You clear your throat and tug at the long sweater you’re wearing, pulling it further down your thighs in a meager attempt to hide the fact you’re only in your underwear.

Damn it. You haven’t even had your coffee yet. It’s too early and you’re too tired for this.

His gaze moves back to your face and you could swear his ears redden when his eyes meet yours. He grins. “Good morning, neighbor!”

So, your dog is his princess and you’re just…neighbor. You see how it is. Favoritism at its finest.

Not that you can blame him. One look into Nari’s perfectly round eyes and your heart melts too.

So, maybe you shouldn’t be too hard on him for spoiling her.

No, wait! You lost sleep because of him! You should be hard on him!

As your eyes move over the baggy, white t-shirt falling down around his tightly fitting athletic pants, you start to wish he’d be a little hard on you instead.

Yeah, you need more sleep.

“Morning,” you squeak, cringing at the way your voice sounds after uttering your first words of the day. Too frustrated by Nari’s incessant noise throughout the night, you hadn’t even praised her for being the cutest dog in the world this morning

Safe to say, your silent treatment went completely unnoticed by Nari. Typical.

“Rough night?” he questions with a lift of his eyebrow

You narrow your eyes at him, wondering if he knows just how rough it was…and wondering if he’d like to help make tonight a little rougher.

Good god, your mind is horrible in the mornings.

“Yeah, seems like Nari got a hold of some new toys yesterday,” you say bluntly, crossing your arms over your chest. Doing this results in the bottom of the sweatshirt inching up your thighs, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your neighbor.

He huffs out a breathless, guilt-ridden laugh and scratches at the back of his neck. “Oh? Wonder where she could’ve gotten them?”

You roll your eyes, really wishing you remembered his name. “Look, neighbor—“

“Seokjin.”

You stop short at the interruption, eyebrows pinching. “What?”

“My name’s Seokjin,” he clarifies with a small, friendly smile.

You see what he’s doing, trying to ease the tension, and of course it’s working because the asshole knows how handsome his stupid face is when he smiles.

“I didn’t ask,” you grumble, but it doesn’t carry any heat because it’s actually good to know.

Seokjin’s grin widens. “No, but I figured you forgot since we first met.”

He then rattles off your name as if he could never forget, which makes you feel great, obviously.

Your smile is thin when you say, “Right.”

He reaches into the pocket of his athletic pants and your eyes can’t help but follow the movements, watching as he pulls out a single treat to hand over to your little baby.

You frown. She hasn’t even had her breakfast yet.

“Can I ask you something?” you question when he’s scratching your pup’s ears. He glances up at you and nods for you to go ahead. You eye Nari as her tongue lolls out of her mouth, eyes blinking happily at the handsome man who's lavishing her with attention.

Bitch.

“Why don’t you have a dog of your own?” you voice the question that’s been at the forefront of your mind since the very first time he’d given your dog a treat. At first, you’d thought he was just being neighborly, now you know it’s more than that.

A soft smile curls the corners of his lips and he looks at Nari affectionately.

“They’re a lot of work, aren’t they?” He shrugs. “I don’t have much time for one.”

And, yet, he has plenty of time to spoil yours...

You hum, heart softening just a little at the sight of Nari softly lapping his hand.

Seokjin’s fond smile widens as he wiggles his fingers, cooing at her. “And who could ever compete with this little angel, hmm?”

You would hope that you could compete…….and now you feel ridiculous because you’re starting to feel jealous of a dog.

Your sweet, little, angelic and beautiful dog, but still.

“Sometimes I have to wonder though,” Seokjin begins, peeking up at you from beneath his lashes. He chuckles a little. “Do you even feed her? She’s always so excited.”

Yeah, nope, this is no longer cute. How dare he!

“You’re feeding her treats!” you explode, throwing your hands up in the air. “Of course she’s going to be excited! Dogs are known for being food motivated!”

He raises his eyebrows at your outburst, hand slowly withdrawing from Nari’s head as you continue.

“And furthermore, every time you feed her one of your treats, she never eats her food! I give it to her and she just looks at it because you’re spoiling her meals! So, yes, I feed her, but no, most of the time she hasn’t eaten yet so she’s overly excited for you to feed her something that’s in no way nutritious at all! It’s completely throwing off her routine!”

Seokjin’s lips press into a firm line, eyes creasing in silent laughter that eventually bubbles over, pouring from his lips in squeaks. “You’ve been holding that in for a while, haven’t you?”

Heat floods the apples of your cheek and you try not to appear too put-off by his observation. Clearly, you’re not subtle at all. You huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest and averting your gaze. You’re not even sure how to respond to that or what to say after your outburst. You feel a little silly for losing your composure, honestly.

Sobering slightly, Seokjin chuckles. “You could’ve asked me to stop, you know?”

Yeah, that probably would have made more sense than glaring from your back window. More heat floods your cheeks and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes at yourself. How many times have you, yourself, said that communication goes a long way?

You glance at Nari, who’s settled down on the grass with her head on her paws, looking between the two of you like she’s watching some kind of show.

Yeah, must be so amusing to watch your owner make an idiot out of herself like this.

“But Nari loves you,” you sigh, rubbing your arm a little sheepishly.

“Yeah, she does.” He says it like it’s obvious, like everyone should love him, and you scoff.

“Bribery,” you grumble.

He throws his head back in a laugh, crinkled eyes sparkling as they move over you. “And is there any way to bribe her owner?”

Your eyes widen, all the thoughts you’ve had of his mouth coming to mind, and you don’t even realize your hands have moved to tug at the bottom of your sweater until his eyes shift to follow the movement.

His eyes darken, plump lips curving into a smirk that you would gladly drool over if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. “I interrupted your morning...have you had coffee yet?”

You take a step back, glancing over your shoulder into the kitchen, where the freshly brewed pot of coffee sits. You quirk an eyebrow. “I just...made a pot, actually?”

His lips twitch. “And has Nari had her breakfast yet?”

Your other eyebrow rises and you can’t help but wonder where this is going. “Not yet…”

He grips the top of the fence. “Should we change that then?”

A surprised laugh slips past your lips before you can stop it. “Are you inviting yourself into my home?”

He blinks a couple of times. “Maybe...am I being too forward?”

In your opinion, he’s not being forward enough. You whistle for Nari to come in and she jumps up instantly, skittering into the house. You shrug. “Since you’re the one that’s ruining her meals, it’s only fair that you’re the one that tries to make her eat.”

His smirk spreads into a wide grin and he eyes the ground in front of him before hopping the fence. You’re tempted to tell him about the gate you installed, but bite your lip, a little impressed he managed to make it over the fence without issue.

He’s taller than you’re expecting and your eyes widen a little as he climbs the steps, his smile a little smug as he motions toward the door. “After you, neighbor.”

Neighbor. So, you’re back to this again.

You roll your eyes and turn around, leading him into your home before you can overthink it.

*~*~*

Of course, your dog loves to make you look like a fool. She wiggles excitedly as Seokjin pours her dry food into her bowl, sitting back on her haunches and raising her front paws in a beg when he moves to set it on the floor. She eats so quickly, you’d think she’d never eaten before.

You want to wipe the smug smirk off Seokjin’s lips when he turns to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

You set your jaw and pour coffee into two mugs before offering one to him, motioning toward the cream and sugar for him to do as he pleases. He follows you to the table, a little too closely, and your breath catches in your throat when he trips and catches himself with a hand to your waist.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but doesn’t bother to remove his hand. Instead, he steps a bit closer, a pleasant warmth settling against your back. You swallow, fingers fiddling with the bottom of your oversized sweater. “Nari must have been starving.”

Your eyes flutter as he shifts behind you and you struggle to turn your attention to your dog’s empty bowl. She’s a traitor, but you’re kind of grateful for it at the moment, especially as Seokjin’s grip tightens around your waist.

“I’m kind of hungry too,” he murmurs, and you vaguely hear him set down his mug before he’s moving your hair from over your shoulder. His lips don’t touch you, not the way you’re craving, but he does nuzzle into your neck, hands following the curve of your waist, down to your thighs. You press back against him at the feel of his palms against your bare skin and you feel him smile against your shoulder.

“You didn’t even bother to get dressed before ogling me this morning,” he teases, fingertips flirting over the inside of your thighs, prying your legs further apart. You feel deliciously exposed in a way that leaves you breathless, your anticipation making your hands shake. You let out a sigh when he presses himself against you, feeling his hardening length against your backside. He chuckles at the way you gasp when he subtly rolls his hips, highly aware of how needy you are. “You think I don’t notice you watching me.”

His lips finally settle over your pulse-point, teeth gently grazing and nipping at your skin. “You think I don’t know how flustered I make you, how crazy I drive you when I pay more attention to Nari than you.”

Your entire body flushes, wishing you could take back all the things you’d thought and the feelings you’d felt just this morning. Especially now that you’re so sure he’d been doing it on purpose.

He laughs lightly, squeezing your thighs. “You’re jealous of a dog, but I definitely wouldn’t be doing this--” He inches a hand higher, pinching the sensitive flesh of your thigh and making you jolt in his arms. “--to your dog.”

Yeah, that’s...a very good thing?

You manage a small, strained laugh that turns into a gasp as he spins the two of you around. You’re quick to slam your coffee down on the kitchen counter, just before he’s bending you over it. He grinds himself against your clothed core, but doesn’t let you relish in the feeling for long before he’s sinking to his knees. He plants wet, open-mouthed kisses to the back of your thighs, enjoying the way you squirm at how close he is to where you want him. To where you need him.

“Fuck,” you pant, and a saccharin chuckle slips past his lips.

His fingers flirt over the material of your underwear, dipping a finger in to swipe over your core. He hums. “So wet already and I’ve barely touched you.”

He nips at your skin, shocking you. “I bet you were imagining me between your legs this morning, weren’t you? Is that why you couldn’t look me in the eyes when I said good morning?”

Well, technically, you were fully imagining his cock, not his mouth, but…

You yelp when he suddenly moves your underwear aside, moaning at the sight of you. The pad of his finger grazes you, swiping between your folds, up to your clit and back again. “Look at you.”

God, his voice sounds wrecked already. He sounds like a man starved, like a man ready to devour you. And fuck, you want him to.

“Please,” you whimper, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get more of his fingers.

He chuckles, running his teeth along the curve of your ass. “Tell me, what have you been imagining? My fingers or my mouth?”

That’s honestly such a hard choice to make. While his lips are divine and you’ve been wondering what he could do with his head buried between your thighs, you’ve also had various fantasies about his long, slender fingers. You know he could destroy you with either and you’d be more than happy to take whatever he gives you.

He sinks his teeth into you and you jolt forward with a yelp. Panting, you mutter, “Both! Either! Please!”

“So greedy,” he laughs, but presses a kiss to your backside as his fingers find your clit. He smirks when you spread your legs wider for him and when he finally buries his face between your legs, he moans at the taste of you on his tongue. “God, you taste fucking delicious.”

You rock back against his face, desperate to feel more of his tongue. He doesn’t disappoint, prying your folds apart and pressing into you, adding a finger for good measure. He hums, the sound coming out as a growl, as he starts to finger you and suck on your clit.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “So good for me. So accepting of my fingers and my tongue.”

He sucks and slurps at you like a man eating his last meal, hands moving to grip your hips as you start to tremble and thrash against him.

“That’s right,” he growls, brushing his teeth against your clit. “Cum for me, gorgeous. I wanna taste more of you.”

He sucks harshly at your clit, fingers sinking deep into your cunt as you start to tighten and then pulse around him. He’s quick to remove himself from your clit, continuing to pump his fingers into you as he slurps at your juices.

“So fucking good,” he groans, pulling you back against his face until he can barely breathe. He licks you clean, sucking at you until you’re a trembling mess in his hands and whimpering in overstimulation.

When he finally pulls away from you, it’s with a self-satisfied smirk that looks far too vulgar and far too sexy with your arousal dripping from his chin. You don’t care though, quickly pulling him to his feet and mashing your mouth to his. You taste yourself on his lips and the two of you moan, tongues tangling as you quickly hook your legs around him.

He catches you easily, setting you on the countertop and reaching for the waistband of his pants. You wiggle out of your underwear, letting them drop to the floor as he drops his pants, boxer briefs following along.

You glance down between you to get a good look at him, hand moving at its own accord and wrapping around him in a few quick pumps. He moans under the touch of your fingers, gripping your hips and pulling you toward the edge of the countertop.

“I don’t have a condom,” he groans, burying his face in your neck as you squeeze him. “I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You snort, quirking an eyebrow at him. “You were so confident that I’d been fantasizing about you, but didn’t think I’d actually let you fuck me?”

He grunts, teeth scraping along your neck. “I mean...a guy can hope.”

You sigh, dropping your hand away in favor of wrapping your legs around his ass to pull him toward you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders with a smirk. “It’s a good thing I’m on the pill then...and clean.”

His eyes widen, lush lips parting. “I’m clean too...you’d really let me fuck you raw?”

You bite your lip and nod, causing him to tip his head back in a moan.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he praises, taking himself in his hand and lining himself up. He lets the tip nudge against your folds, dragging it up to your clit and back down again. He glances up at you as you bite your lip. “You sure?”

Your grip around him tightens and you pull him closer. “Yes! Please, fuck me!”

His cocky smirk melts away as he sinks into you, slipping in easily with how wet you are. He holds himself there for a moment, adjusting to the warmth of you wrapped around him. Your walls flutter, still sensitive from the way he’d fucked you with his fingers moments before, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“You feel so good,” he groans, slowly pulling out to slowly push back in. The movement feels good -- so blissfully good -- but it’s not enough. It’s not what you’re craving.

You fingers sink into his shoulders and your legs tighten around him. “Harder.”

“Harder?” he questions, smirk evident in his voice, and you’re immediately regretting your words as he pulls out just as slow, only to snap his hips forward. He carries on this way, at the same agonizingly slow, but deep, pace and you can feel your nerves starting to light on fire. Your entire body feels warm, blood pumping eagerly through your veins as he scrapes against your walls.

“Faster,” you plead, wishing he’d just fuck you hard and dirty the way you’d always imagined.

“Hmm,” he hums, kissing up the length of your neck until he reaches your ear. He nips and teases at your skin. “You sure? This won’t last long, not with you so wet and tight around my cock. You really that eager for me to cum inside you, neighbor? Really want me to fill you up?”

His words have you whimpering, hips rolling desperately against his in an attempt to speed things up.

He chuckles, hands squeezing around your hips to slow you down. “I should’ve known you’d be this desperate after watching me for months. I bet you’ve imagined cumming around my cock, huh? Probably fucked yourself with your fingers and wished it was me.”

You cry out when his fingers pinch your clit.

“You want to cum?” he taunts, and you nod your head quickly, clinging to him for all your worth as he finally, finally picks up the pace.

“Then cum,” he huffs, fingertips digging into your waist as he barrels into you, plucking at the coil wound so tightly within you that you’re crying out and panting against his neck.

“Seokjin!” you yelp, finally able to move your hips and help set the pace.

He’s breathing heavily along with you, sweat dripping from the strands of his hair, as he nods. “Cum for me, princess.”

As if attached to some wire, you do exactly as you’re told, orgasm crashing through you like a wave and leaving your body trembling against him. You’re whimpering and sighing and moaning out his name as your walls squeeze around him, milking him of every last drop as his orgasm quickly follows.

“Fuck, yes,” he grunts, fingers moving quickly over your clit to prolong your orgasm and leave you a trembling, sweating mess. He keeps going until he’s spent, until you’re whimpering out small tears. He stills, slowly pulling out of you as he kisses your tears away, pulling you in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss that leaves you panting against his mouth.

He brushes your sweat-slicked hair from your forehead and offers a small smile, eyes soft and a little sleepy. “You did so well.”

You manage a wobbly smile, still a little dazed, and turn your head to kiss the palm resting against your cheek. “You didn’t do so bad yourself.”

He laughs, that high-pitched sound that you’re slowly growing fond of. “We should clean up and then think about having a real breakfast…if you want to, that is.”

You smile, leaning in to kiss him chastely on the lips because you really can’t resist. You let out a contented sigh. “I’d like that.”

He grins. “Yeah?”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I guess I should get to know the man Nari has fallen so hard for.”

His eyes narrow playfully. “Mm, yeah, and maybe I can find a few ways to get her owner to fall for me too.”

You snort, knocking his hands away and jumping down from the counter with a slight wince. “Yeah, maybe.”

Because, yeah, it’s entirely likely.

#kim seokjin #kim seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #neighbor au #kim seokjin x reader #bts x reader #bts au

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julek · 3 years

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a humble offering to @west-moor and @kueble, for bringing this post to life. they’re very dumb, your honor. | read on ao3

It starts at dinner one night.

They settled in a few days ago, bringing the ice cold from the mountains and the snow with them, after trudging up the Killer for two weeks. They sit at the wooden table and before them stands Vesemir’s famous roast, the one Geralt had told Jaskier all about.

Geralt helps himself to some potatoes, and gestures to Jaskier’s plate. “You want some?”

Before Jaskier can nod, Lambert cuts him off. “Darling,” he says with a pointed tone.

Geralt turns to him, an eyebrow raised in confusion. “What?”

“You seemed to have forgotten you were speaking to your bard, there,” Lambert quips, and sits back with a knowing smirk. “Just wanted to help you out.”

Geralt blinks. “Uh.”

Jaskier notices the way he’s frozen in place, and gently touches his forearm, ignoring Lambert’s non-sequitur. “I’d love some, Geralt. Thank you.”

“Uh,” Geralt repeats, and doesn’t take his eyes off Lambert as he fills Jaskier’s plate. “Sure.”

Jaskier pads into the kitchen the next morning, eyes still fuzzy with sleep and an old, worn woolen sweater hanging off his shoulder. Geralt looks up from his bowl of kasha and smiles.

“Morning,” Jaskier mumbles, and sits down at the table.

“Good morning.”

The shout comes from the pantry, followed by the unmistakable sound of pans and cups clattering. “Morning, honey!”

Jaskier narrows his eyes, and looks at Geralt for help. He shakes his head. “Um. Hi?”

Out of the pantry walks Lambert, hands full of baking ingredients, a flour scar crossing his cheek. “How’d ya sleep, sweetheart?”

Jaskier decidedly does not blush a bright shade of red. He doesn’t. “Well, that’s just— thank you, Lambert, for asking. I slept well, even though this keep’s freezing cold and my bed was entirely too big for one fragile bard such as myself.”

Lambert frowns. “What do you mean, too big? You’re not sharing with Geralt?”

Geralt chokes on his kasha, momentarily. Jaskier snorts and shakes his head. “No, I’m staying in the east wing.”

“Ah,” Lambert says, a wolfish grin on his face as he ties the apron behind his back. “That’s… interesting.”

He shoots Geralt a look that’s there a second and gone the next, and Jaskier would’ve missed it, if not for the developed skill of observing Witchers and their fleeting emotions. Still, it’s a look he can’t decipher, a mix of amusement and mischief. Best not to find out, he decides.

“So, Lambert,” he starts, a touch louder than he should. “What’s that you’re making?”

Geralt had warned him, Jaskier thinks in retrospect, that Lambert was a bit weird. An acquired taste. And he is, Jaskier won’t deny it, but he’s also incredibly unpredictable — his gruff demeanor and rough disposition always, without fail, betray the sweet words that leave his mouth.

He’d been brushing the horses down when Lambert ruffled his hair and called him dear. Geralt nearly dropped his sword one morning, when Jaskier walked out onto the courtyards and Lambert called out hello, sunshine. On their way to the library to get absolutely smashed, a gentle touch to his elbow and little bird.

They’re all incredibly sweet, incredibly unexpected delicacies, and Jaskier doesn’t know what to make of them. Sure, Lambert isn’t horrible to look at in the slightest, what with the entire lean-body, scarred-face look he has going on, with the playful teasing and easy smiles he gets out of him. He’s objectively handsome, and funny, and kind, when he has to be, and Jaskier has let him know, many times. He hasn’t been exactly subtle in feeling his muscles through his linen shirts and sending looks his way whenever he’s said something salacious and tempting — signs so clear even the brother of one of the Continent’s most oblivious Witcher could read them. Which is why it’s so infuriatingly confusing, the fact that name-calling is all Lambert’s got for him.

And it’s not lost to him at all, the way Geralt frowns and fiddles with his medallion whenever Lambert lets a honey-sweet pet name slip. He doesn’t miss the way Geralt stubbornly looks straight ahead, focused on absolutely nothing at all, nor the way his mouth twitches, almost, almost resembling a pout.

It’s amusing, to say the least.

“Well, I’m off to bed, my wonderful friends,” Jaskier announces one night, after playing a few annoying renditions of Toss a Coin, until he got Eskel to break and beg him to stop.

The wolves say their goodbyes, and just as Jaskier’s about to leave the Great Hall, Lambert calls after him.

“Night, love,” he says, offhandedly, and continues his conversation with Eskel, as if nothing had happened.

Jaskier scans the room, and his eyes fall on Geralt, who’s trying very hard to remain seated, even when his knuckles are white and his leg is bouncing wildly enough to propel him into the night sky. His amber gaze follows Lambert’s movements and if Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d say Geralt was about to throttle his brother.

“Hmm.” He murmurs. “Goodnight, Lambert. Goodnight, Geralt.”

Jaskier smiles sweetly and leaves the room at a leisurely pace. He can feel Geralt’s eyes on his back.

One particularly chilly afternoon, Jaskier’s leaving the library when he hears voices that carry through the hall.

“Well? Gonna explain yourself?”

Oh, the middle-aged woman that lives inside Jaskier’s heart and loves to gossip jumps up and down in joy at the prospect of what seems to be a very interesting conversation. He slips out of the room and presses his back to the wall, even when he knows the Witchers could sense his presence. It’s more fun if there’s a risk to get caught, he reasons.

Lambert’s voice is low, and Jaskier can hear his smug smile as he says, “Well, you weren’t doing anything about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Geralt’s voice echoes.

“It means, you thick-headed idiot,” Lambert drags the words out, like he’s speaking to a child. If Jaskier’s quiet, he can hear the way Geralt’s blood boils in his veins. “That you’ve been walking in circles for too long. Jaskier’s here.” At the mention of his name, the bard perks up.

“I know that, Lambert. I invited him. What’s that got to do with this— this sweet talking thing you’ve got going on? It’s weird. Creeps me out.”

“What? I can be decent when needs must!” Comes Lambert’s offended retort. “What I’m saying, pretty boy, is that he’s a good thing, the kind that Witchers never get to have. Not that you own him or anything— it’s just. He’s good, and he’s obviously waited for you to make a move, sometime in this past decade. He’s here, for fuck’s sake— in an old ruin in the middle of fucking nowhere, holed up with four Witchers and a goat, nothing else. Ain’t exactly a walk in the park.”

Jaskier stands very still, his heart beating out of his chest.

“Hmm. I still— I don’t deserve him.”

Lambert laughs. “Well, too bad, then. You can’t come to me with that self-deprecating shit, I’m not Eskel. But, fuck, if you don’t deserve him, who the fuck does? Certainly not me, but— I need you to listen very closely— he won’t wait forever. He might even settle for me, if you don’t make a move soon.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah.”

Geralt’s footsteps echo down the hall, moving closer to Lambert, Jaskier thinks.

“You’ll stop with the pet names, then?”

Lambert laughs, again. “Absolutely not. It’s too fun seeing you get all hot and bothered.” He steps out of the room, thankfully, in the opposite direction, and calls out, “Don’t fuck it up!”

Jaskier lets out a breath and slides to the floor, gathering the new information in his brain. Geralt wants him. He wants him, and worst of all, thinks he’s undeserving — damn him and his humility. He lets out a laugh in disbelief.

Geralt wants him.

The next morning, when Jaskier walks into the kitchen, he’s greeted by a blushing Geralt.

“Hi,” Jaskier says, an amused smile curling his lips, and sits down at the table. “How are you this morning, dear?”

Geralt pushes a bowl in his direction, a bit too strongly. “Good.” He coughs. “Uh, I’m good… Sugar face.”

“Huh?” Jaskier stops mid-bite. He quickly regains his composure. “Um— that’s good, I’m glad, yeah.”

Geralt grimaces, and an awkward silence follows. Jaskier digs into his breakfast with more enthusiasm than necessary, until Lambert walks in, firewood under both arms.

“Lambert! Thank the Gods— I mean, uh, it’s so good to see you. It’s a bit chilly this morning, isn’t it? I’m sure you agree, what with coming straight from the great outdoors and such— I’m going to the library, if anyone needs me, uh, just,” he rambles as he washes his bowl, “just call. You know. My name. Jaskier the bard, ha— that’s me! Anyway, see you.”

He makes haste to leave the kitchen, and as he walks down the hall, he hears Lambert clicking his tongue.

“Fuck, Wolf, it’s not even mid-morning.”

Jaskier stays in the library until the sweet aroma of Vesemir’s stew reaches the room and his stomach rumbles pleasantly at the thought. Given the way he’d fled the kitchen, he wouldn’t be surprised if no one called him to lunch — they probably thought he was having some sort of stroke, with his word-vomiting and hurried escape. He’s just opened a new book when he hears a knock.

“Come in,” he says, voice steady.

The door opens, and sure enough, Geralt’s standing at the doorway, a sheepish smile on his face and a terribly endearing flush creeping up his neck.

“Hey, love,” Jaskier says, because it’s difficult to call him otherwise. “You okay?”

“Hmm.” Geralt walks over to his chair, and stands there awkwardly until Jaskier gestures to a bench next to him. “We’ll have lunch soon.”

Jaskier smiles. “I was just thinking about that. It’s stew, isn’t it? Oh, Vesemir spoils me so.”

“Thought you’d be hungry,” Geralt says, looking at his hands. “You left breakfast early.”

Jaskier pales, then lets out a nervous laugh. “Oh! Yes, well, I had suddenly remembered a book I just had to examine more closely, and—”

“Jaskier.”

Geralt’s looking at him now, and Jaskier closes his mouth, choosing to look back into his amber eyes and wait for whatever comes. Nothing does, for a while — they just stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak up. Finally, Geralt does.

“I invited you up here, to spend the winter with me,” he rasps, “because I couldn’t bear the thought of not being close to you, Jaskier, I— I can’t stand it.”

Jaskier’s heart breaks a little. “Geralt.”

“I should’ve asked you to come up here years ago. I wasn’t brave enough. Thought you’d hate the idea.” He grimaces.

“Geralt,” Jaskier repeats. “When you asked me to come here with you— you have no idea what it meant to me, knowing you still wanted my company. I couldn’t have been happier.”

Geralt sniffs and gives him a weak smile, his white hair falling on his face.

“I’m not good at this,” he says, and gestures vaguely at the space between them. “The whole…”

“Calling me disgustingly sweet and somewhat alarming pet names?”

Geralt nods.

“I know, dear heart.” Jaskier takes Geralt’s hands in his own. “I know, and I don’t expect you to.”

“I’d still like to call you something, though,” Geralt says, the tiniest hint of a pout on his lips. “Can’t let Lambert best me.”

Jaskier snorts. “So it’s all about honor, then?”

Geralt shakes his head. “It’s about you.”

And oh, he sounds so sincere, so open and fragile, Jaskier can’t find it in himself to tease him any further.

“You know what I loved the most about traveling to Kaer Morhen with you?”

A tiny frown knits Geralt’s brow. “What?”

“‘T was when we stopped in those hamlets, the ones that aren’t even on maps,” he murmurs. “Where you gather your supplies, where people know you and call you by your name. You know why?”

Geralt shakes his head.

“Because,” Jaskier whispers, bringing their foreheads together, “whenever they asked you about me, about who I was, your answer was always the same.”

He’s my bard, Geralt had said to the horse trader when they bought a mule. My bard, he’d answered, when the chatty shopkeeper had inquired about the colorful fellow trailing after him. My bard, he’d said with a shrug and a fond smile, as Jaskier and the tailor entwined themselves in an argument about fabrics and the season’s colors.

My bard.

“You always called me yours.”

Jaskier closes his eyes when he feels Geralt’s lips on his own, a soft, gentle thing. They move slowly, simply exploring — when they part, there are kisses being pressed to his cheeks, his brow, the corner of his mouth and his jaw.

Geralt smiles at him, and Jaskier smiles back, aware that they probably look like two lovesick fools staring at each other, but far too gone to care.

“I don’t need flowery names or honey-soaked terms of endearment,” Jaskier assures him. “Being called yours is more than enough.”

Geralt presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Hmm. Can’t go around claiming you as mine, though. ‘S a bit archaic.”

“Mm. You’re right. Love of my life, my moon and my stars should be enough, then. Rolls off the tongue, even.”

Geralt growls. “Jask.”

“Dearly beloved— no, that’s too formal— I’ve always been fond of Angel, though I doubt I’ve earned that title.”

Geralt kisses him again, and Jaskier half-suspects it’s less about the tender gesture and more about shutting him up.

“I’ll think of more, you know. You can’t distract me with kisses forever.”

Geralt huffs a laugh. “Okay.” He pecks his cheek. “Bard.”

“Yours,” Jaskier says smugly.

Before Geralt can open his mouth, the library door swings open.

“Fucking finally, Geralt! We’re all so very happy for this revelation, way to go, and all that.” He clasps his hands together. “Now, you both need to get your asses to lunch, otherwise Vesemir will kick you out. Jaskier, baby, please be grossly in love with Geralt later.”

Geralt groans. “Fuck off, Lambert.”

He leaves with a cackle. Jaskier smooths out his doublet, gets up and holds his hand out to Geralt. He grins.

“You coming, sugar face?”

#mywriting #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #fair warning this turned out way softer than i intended. it's geraskier tenderness hours #also it largely does not make sense #like. at all #hope y'all like it still!#this was fun #also yes there are only two locations at kaer morhen they’re the kitchen and the library. no i do not take criticism

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the-dream-team · 3 years

Note

hi dylan! i've seen you around a lot but never interacted with your posts before (a tragic error) so i wanted to remedy that by saying that 'July' was very beautiful and utterly perfect!

P.S. I've heard some mumblings about Shirtless James May 👀👀 here is my formal request for you to participate 😂

Oh my gosh, hi! I’ve definitely seen your username around, so it’s lovely to finally say hello :) That’s so sweet, I’m glad you liked July- it was very fun to write! And you know what else was fun to write? This ridiculous one shot for Shirtless JP May, dedicated you, @sunshine-marauders <3

Three Times Lily Evans Did NOT Want to See James Potter Shirtless and One Time She Most Certainly Did

***

“Mr. Potter, please put your trousers back on, my boy!”

“Sir, I would, but there’s just no way of telling if this potion might be poisonous, and I’d rather play it safe.”

Lily’s eyes narrowed as she shrugged off her own robes, now covered head to toe in acidic slime from the Dungbomb that had just exploded in her and Sev’s cauldron. The purple liquid smelled something foul, but there was nothing poisonous about what was once a perfectly brewed Sleeping Draught. James Potter knew that, but he’d stripped down to his pants regardless.

“Really, Professor Slughorn, I don’t mind,” Potter continued while he sauntered back to his own workstation, bare chest puffed out as though he wasn’t practically nude in the middle of the damn classroom. His display garnered a collection of giggles from around the dungeons and a wolf whistle from Remus. “And who am I to deny my fellow third years of this view?”

Lily scoffed. She couldn’t speak for her classmates, but she knew her own view consisted of scrawny limbs, knobbly knees, and the most insufferable smirk known to wizardkind. And when he turned to her with fingers running through his hair and an infuriatingly pointed look in her direction, Lily balled her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms to keep herself from reaching out to smack that stupid grin and those lopsided glasses clean off his face.

***

“There’d better be a good explanation for this, Potter.”

“It kills me, Evans, because there is an excellent explanation for our current predicament- one that I think you’d find admirable and impressive- but unfortunately we’re sworn to secrecy, so you’ll just have to assign us detentions and continue on with your rounds for the night.”

Lily turned, exasperated, to Remus, whose Prefect’s badge looked awfully heavy on his robes that night. He didn’t meet her eye, instead focusing on his three naked friends standing before them in the middle of the first floor corridor. Well, mostly naked. Each of the fifth year Gryffindor boys held strategically placed Shrivelfig leaves to cover their most intimate areas, but only Peter looked as though that protection was a matter of life or death. Sirius stood as casually as he always did, completely unphased to find himself caught clothesless in the middle of the night, and James somehow looked more confident than usual (if that was even possible) with his chest on full display. He seemed to be strategically flexing every Quidditch-trained muscle as he grinned down at her with that pointed look she’d become far too familiar with. She spent every last drop of concentration keeping her eyes locked on James’ face to avoid any potential… drifting.

“Did you have any luck?” said Remus after a moment. Lily whipped around in shocked betrayal. He couldn’t possibly approve of this behaviour?

“Not this time,” Sirius responded, “but I got bloody close. Don’t think having clothes makes a difference, but it was worth trying.”

“I’d say we should be on track to making it work before the end of the month,” added James, his crooked grin turning into a proper smile.

Remus’ eyes sparkled. “Holy shit, that’s brilliant.”

Lily let out a frustrated grunt before turning on her heel to storm away from the disrobed boys and her fellow Prefect, upset that Remus wouldn’t take their duties seriously, but thankful to be out of sight from James’ sharp gaze, finally able to let the blush she’d been desperately fighting back escape across her cheeks.

***

“I’m sorry, Evans, but I don’t make the rules. You’ve got to lose an article of clothing or else you’ll have to forfeit.”

“That’s bollocks, Black, you literally came up with the idea for Strip Exploding Snap this evening.”

The sixth years were circled up around the Common Room’s fireplace, loose socks and sweaters littering the floor, a half-empty bottle of stolen Firewhisky passing around from hand to hand. If it weren’t for Mary’s ridiculous crush on Sirius, Lily would never have found herself anywhere near this kind of event, but she’d decided to be a good friend, and now she was down to an undershirt and knickers. It was unclear whether her face burned red from the whiskey or the nerves.

“Look, Evans,” Sirius continued with an air of indifference, “if you’re not going to participate, you can just put your cards back in the pile-”

“I’ll do it for her!” James nearly shouted as he jumped up from his seat, swaying slightly. His eyes as glossy as the crooked glasses falling down his nose. He reached for the collar of his white t-shirt, grabbing hold to pull it over his head, but a competitive rush propelled Lily to her feet.

“No!” she protested before the shirt could make its way too far up James’ stomach. He froze in place, peering over the fabric at her in confusion. “You can’t just play for me, Potter, that’s not fair. I want to win on my own.”

“Really, Evans, I don’t mind,” laughed James, finally following through to remove the shirt completely. His glasses came off in the process, stuck in the fabric, and Lily nearly choked as her mouth went dry at the full sight of him, broader and fuller than she’d remembered. Had she ever seen him without his glasses before? His face as naked as his torso? She needed another drink.

“I’m not going to let you cheat,” she said, actually stomping her foot in the process. And to prove the dedication to her claims, she stripped down to her bra and sent James her most determined, pointed stare. His glasses made their way back to his face so fast, he nearly poked his eye out. “Now, put your shirt back on, Potter, or I’ll come over there and do it myself.”

“That’s not the threat you think it is, Evans,” he breathed, nearly choking on his words.

Lily thought her leaping heart must be horribly visible through her exposed skin.

“Do you both need the rest of us to leave?” chimed in Sirius, throwing Lily from her rapidly spiraling thoughts.

She immediately sat back down, throwing James his shirt in the process, desperately trying to contain the butterflies threatening to escape through her throat. His shirt never made it back over his head and the rest of the night no longer passed in minutes, but instead in glances stolen from across the room.

***

“Whatever is the problem, Miss Evans, my dear?”

“Sir, I accidentally spilled an entire vial of Mermaid venom all over Potter. It’s burned straight through his robes and I’m worried it might be serious. Do you mind if I leave to take him to Madam Pomfrey’s?”

Professor Slughorn fumbled out a concerned response, granting his blessing, and Lily spared no time grabbing James by the wrist to drag him out of the classroom and through the dungeons. His eyes were wide as he studied the golden liquid eating through the fabric of his sweater. “Is this poisonous?” he asked, fingers fumbling with his deteriorating uniform.

Lily spun around with emerald fire behind her eyes. “It is,” she responded, stopping him in his tracks as they turned a corner. “So we ought to play it safe and get these off you.”

She watched his eyes flash with sudden realization before she pulled off his sweater and made quick work of the buttons on his shirt.

The knowing grin that broke out across James’ face sent waves of elation through her heart, radiating out to find him again and pull him down to her. Their mouths met with smiling lips and heavy sighs, eager to reconnect after what felt like ages apart, but in reality, couldn’t have been more than an hour.

“What did I do to deserve this?” James asked through jagged breaths as he grabbed for the door handle to the nearest broom closet, dragging Lily in after him by the waist.

“You gave me that look,” she said, laughing slightly as she moved her hands up his warm skin to comb through his tousled hair. “That bloody pointed look you get that drives me crazy.” She kissed him and he deepened it before pausing.

“Wait. You poisoned me because I looked at you?”

“I spilled poison on you because I wanted to get your shirt off.”

He beamed, his smile brightening the dim, crowded cupboard as he brought his hands up to hold her face. “Well, in that case, who am I to deny you this view?”

She scoffed. Then kissed him again.

#shirtless james potter may #i wasn't going to participate to this extent #but you asked so nicely!#<3 #jily fic #jily #james potter #lily evans #one shot #shirtless jp may

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kingandfireheart · 3 years

Text

Lucien Vanserra Sass Appreciation Post

For more serious Lucien content see my other posts:

What the fuck is happening in the Autumn Court series Part 1 (Eris) and Part 2 (Lady of the Autumn Court)

What stories are left: Lucien

When Lucien introduces himself:

"Lucien," my captor said quietly, the name echoing with a hint of a snarl. "Behave."

Lucien went rigid, but he hopped off the edge of the table and bowed deeply to me. "My apologies, lady." Another joke at my expense. "I'm Lucien. Courtier and emissary." He gestured to me with a flourish. "Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold."

When Lucien is intrigued by Feyre:

"Well," Lucien said, his remaining russet eye fixed on me, "you don't look half as bad now. A relief, I suppose, since you're to live with us. Though the tunic isn't as pretty as a dress."

When Lucien wants to know if Feyre thinks he's hot:

"Thank you for the meal," I said. It was all I could think of. "Won't you stay for wine?" Lucien said with sweet venom from where he lounged in his seat. I braced my hands on my chair to rise. "I'm tired. I'd like to sleep." "It's been a few decades since I last saw one of you," Lucien drawled, "but you humans never change, so I don't think I'm wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant, when surely the men back home aren't much to look at." At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it. "You're High Fae," I said tightly. "I'd ask why you'd even bother inviting me here at all-or dining with me." Fool-I really should have been killed ten times over already. Lucien said, "True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this"-he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face-"surely we're not so miserable to look at."

When Feyre leaves their first dinner together:

He gave a distant nod and motioned for me to leave. Dismissed. Like the lowly human I was. Lucien propped his chin on a fist and gave me a lazy half smile. Enough. I got to my feet and backed toward the door. Putting my back to them would have been like walking away from a wolf, sparing my life or no. They said nothing when I slipped out the door. A moment later, Lucien's barking laugh echoed into the halls, followed by a sharp, vicious growl that shut him up.

When Lucien notices Feyre checking him out:

Lucien paused, and I found him smirking at me, making the scar even more brutal. "Were you admiring my sword, or just contemplating killing me, Feyre?"

When Lucien is a sarcastic motherfucker:

“So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?” I gave a pointed glance toward Tamlin’s baldric, the warrior’s clothes, Lucien’s sword. Lucien smirked. “We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelings–”

When Lucien describes Amaratha perfectly:

"What happened to the magic to make it act that way?" Lucien let out a harsh laugh. "Something was sent from the shit-holes of Hell," he said, then glanced around and swore. "I shouldn't have said that. If word got back to her-"

When they run into the Boggee:

"I heard its voice in my head. It told me to look." Lucien rolled his shoulders. "Well, thank the Cauldron that you didn't. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day." He gave me a wan smile. I didn't return it.

When he gives Feyre a title:

"Are you a warrior, though?" Would you be able to kill me if it ever came to that? Lucien huffed a laugh. "Not as good as Tam, but I know how to handle my weapons." He patted the hilt of his sword. "Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress?

When Lucien just needs someone to spar with:

“Do you ever stop being so serious and dull?" "Do you ever stop being such a prick?" I snapped back. Dead—really, truly, I should have been dead for that. But Lucien grinned at me. "Much better.

When Lucien and Feyre spend quality time together:

Over the next three days, I found myself joining Lucien on Andras's old patrol while Tamlin hunted the grounds for the Bogge, unseen by us. Despite being an occasional bastard, Lucien didn't seem to mind my company, and he did most of the talking, which was fine; it left me to brood over the consequences of firing a single arrow. An arrow. I never fired a single one during those three days we rode along the border. That very morning I'd spied a red doe in a glen and aimed out of instinct, my arrow poised to fly right into her eye as Lucien sneered that she was not a faerie, at least. But I'd stared at her-fat and healthy and content-and then slackened the bow, replaced the arrow in my quiver, and let the doe wander on.

When Lucien diagnoses Faerie problems perfectly:

A brush of ice slithered across my nape. "He would be that brutal?" Lucien studied the wine in his goblet. "You don't hold on to power by being everyone's friend. And among the faeries, lesser and High Fae alike, a firm hand is needed. We're too powerful, and too bored with immortality, to be checked by anything else."

When Lucien is told to Back Off, so he exacts his revenge:

Lucien's russet eye was bright, though the smile he gave me didn't meet it. The face of Tamlin's emissary-more court-trained and calculating than I'd seen him yet. "I'm unavailable today," he said. He jerked his chin to Tamlin. "He'll go with you." Tamlin shot his friend a look of disdain that he took few pains to hide. His usual baldric was armed with more knives than I'd seen before, and their ornate metal handles glinted as he turned to me, his shoulders tight. "Whenever you want to go, just say so." The claws of his free hand slipped back under his skin. No. I almost said it aloud as I turned pleading eyes to Lucien. Lucien merely patted my shoulder as he passed by. "Perhaps tomorrow, human."

When Lucien hides:

"I had to go sort out some hotheads on the northern border-official emissary business," he said, setting down the hunting knife he'd been cleaning, a long, vicious blade. "I got back in time to hear your little spat with Tam, and decided I was safer up here. I'm glad to hear your human heart has warmed to me, though. At least I'm not on the top of your killing list."

When Lucien and Feyre become friends after he tells her how to trap a Suriel:

Another riddle-and another bit of information. I said, "It's a good thing that while you have superior hearing, I possess superior abilities to keep my mouth shut." He snorted as I took the knife from the table and turned to procure the bow from my room. "I think I'm starting to like you-for a murdering human."

When Lucien is day drinking and living his best life:

“Would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here, High Lord?" "Ah. The Suriel told you nothing important, did it?" That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest. "He also said that you liked being brushed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats." Tamlin tipped his head to the sky and roared with laughter. Despite myself, I let out a quiet laugh. "I might die of surprise," Lucien said behind me. "You made a joke, Feyre." I turned to look at him with a cool smile. "You don't want to know what the Suriel said about you." I flicked my brows up, and Lucien lifted his hands in defeat. "I'd pay good money to hear what the Suriel thinks of Lucien," Tamlin said. A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle's contents and chuckling with a muttered, "Brushed.”

When Lucien is incredibly casual for a guy going to an orgy:

What?”

Lucien laughed. “Yes—all those female faeries around you were females for Tamlin to pick. It’s an honor to be chosen, but it’s his instincts that select her.”

“But you were there—and other male faeries.” My face burned so hot that I began sweating. That was why those three horrible faeries had been there—and they’d thought that just by my presence, I was happy to comply with their plans.

“Ah.” Lucien chuckled. “Well, Tam’s not the only one who gets to perform the rite tonight. Once he makes his choice, we’re free to mingle. Though it’s not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too.

When Lucien is the mom friend:

"You look . . . refreshed," Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. "Sleep well?" "Like a babe." I smiled as him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. "What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded. I pointed my fork to Tamlin. "Ask him, he did it." Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement.

When Lucien loves drama:

"Accountable?" I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. "You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!" Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. "While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room," Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. "Faerie pig!" I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left.

When Lucien bolts:

“I had to keep my hands clenched at my sides to avoid wiping my sweaty palms on the skirts of my gown as I reached the dining room, and immediately contemplated bolting upstairs and changing into a tunic and pants. But I knew they’d already heard me, or smelled me, or used whatever heightened senses they had to detect my presence, and since fleeing would only make it worse, I found it in myself to push open the double doors.

Whatever discussion Tamlin and Lucien had been having stopped, and I tried not to look at their wide eyes as I strode to my usual place at the end of the table.

“Well, I’m late for something incredibly important,” Lucien said, and before I could call him on his outright lie or beg him to stay, the fox-masked faerie vanished.

When Feyre goes to a party:

"Cauldron boil me," Lucien whistled as I came down the stairs. "She looks positively Fae." ...

I squared my shoulders, disinclined to let him see how much his words or voice or sheer well-being impacted me. Not yet. "I'm surprised I'm even allowed to participate tonight." "Unfortunately for you and your neck," Lucien countered, "tonight's just a party." "Do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?" Lucien winked at me, and Tamlin laughed and offered me his arm. "He's right,"....

"So there's singing and dancing and excessive drinking," Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. "And dallying," he added with a wicked grin.

When Lucien plays a prank:

"I also remember you telling me how witchberries were harmless, and the next thing I knew, I was half-delirious and falling all over myself," I said, recalling the afternoon from a few weeks ago. I'd had hallucinations for hours afterward, and Lucien had laughed himself sick-enough so that Tamlin had chucked him into the reflection pool...."

When Feyre gets drunk of Faerie Wine:

“Tam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.”

“Always looking after your best interests,” I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass. It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned.

“Human fool,” he hissed.

But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next.

“I’m going to paint you,” I said, and giggled—actually giggled—as the words popped out.

"Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered, and I laughed again.”

When Lucien is hungover and third-wheeling:

Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, “And where were you last night?” Lucien’s metal eye narrowed on me. “I’ll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol.” Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, “With some company.” He gave me a sly grin. “Rumor has it you two didn’t come back until after dawn.” I glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I’d practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin’s gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous. “You bit my neck on Fire Night,” I said under my breath. “If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.” He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. “Nothing?” His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him. “Nothing,” I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin’s mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure?” he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. “I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said.”

When Lucien drops one of the best lines in the book:

"I see," I lied, not quite seeing at all. Lucien chuckled, sensing it, and I glared sidelong at him. "You've been noticeably absent again." He used the dagger to clean his nails. "I've been busy. So have you, I take it." "What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"

When Lucien doesn't know what is coming in the future:

Downstairs, Lucien snorted at the sight of me. "Those clothes are enough to convince me I never want to enter the human realm." "I'm not sure the human realm would know what to do with you," I said. Lucien's smile was edged, his shoulders tight as he gave a sharp look behind me to where Tam was waiting in front of a gilded carriage. When he turned back, that metal eye narrowed. "I thought you were smarter than this."

When Lucien admires Feyre's attitude:

“Don’t you understand what Rhys is?” “I do!” I barked, then sighed. “I do,” I repeated, and glared at the eye in my palm. “It’s done with. So you needn’t hold to whatever oath you swore to Tamlin to protect me—or feel like you owe me anything for saving you from Amarantha. I would have done it just to wipe the smirk off your brothers’ faces.” Lucien clicked his tongue, but his remaining russet eye shone. “I’m glad to see you didn’t sell your lively human spirit or stubbornness to Rhys.”

When Lucien is a fashionista:

Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.

When game recognize game

“Cursebreaker,” some murmured. “Blessed,” others whispered.

I made a show of looking surprised—surprised and yet accepting of the Cauldron’s choice. Tamlin’s face was taut with shock, the Hybern royals’ nothing short of baffled.

But I turned to Lucien, my light radiating so brightly that it bounced off his metal eye. A friend beseeching another for help. I reached a hand toward him.

Beyond us, I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it.

Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow.

When Lucien is scared of Amren:

“I think Amren would probably deny that she feels any affection for us—”

“Amren is a bedtime story they told us as younglings to make us behave. Amren was who would drink my blood and carry me to hell if I acted out of line. And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

“We don’t—we don’t enforce protocol and rank here.”

“Obviously. Rhys lives in a town house, by the Cauldron.” He waved an arm to encompass the city.

When Lucien is a little murderous:

“You’re working with that prick,” Cassian cut in, whatever catching-up now over, apparently. He moved to Mor’s side, a hand on her back. He shook his head at Azriel and Rhys, disgust curling his lip. “You should have spiked Eris’s fucking head to the front gates.”

Azriel only watched them with that icy indifference. But Lucien crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the couch. “I have to agree with Cassian. Eris is a snake.”

When Lucien volunteers to go on a quest:

“You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—”

“I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.” His chin lifted. “I will find her. And if there’s an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces … I’ll find a way to do that, too.”

My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.”

A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.

When Lucien makes a friend

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.”

“You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.”

#lucien vanserra #sass appreciation #this is 90% acotar #I didn't include ACOFAS or ACOSF because his sass is not as strong #other than calling Rhys and Feyre assholes #kp analysis #acotar series #mtp

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luvdsc · 4 years

Text

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged.

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play.

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode.

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold.

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you.

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

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sn3ka · 3 years

Text

Shouta Aizawa (alpha) x GN!Reader (omega)

So I'm like actually really nervous posting this since this is my first fanfic and my anxiety keeps tell me its horrible but I still wanna share!!!! Its mostly just like filler? Fluff? At the end it mentions the readers 'heat' so soft lewd but I wanted to post this first to see if it was even worth it to continue working on it

Also there is like multiple ways to spell his name and my brain can't handle it--

I also didn't give the reader a quirk and I couldn't decide what Aizawa should smell like so you get to pick I guess lol

I guess I'll take suggestions/requests??? But I do have a right to reject any I don't feel comfortable doing (I'm also very busy)

__________

You were a teacher aid at UA and mostly was in Aizawa's class, you did occasionally help with teaching but you were mostly there to help any students having troubles understanding the work and you offered tutoring after school hours mostly in the dormitory lounge area but occasionally at cafes with students that were more shy about getting help.

Aizawa's demeanor clashed with yours, he was stern and reserved, while you were usually 'perky' though you were relaxed. There were times when even you gave a death glare that definitely made everyone shut up and pay attention, luckily you didn't have to use it often.

Shota was secretly proud of your progress as a teacher aid since at first you were very timid and would get nervous when a student needed help which made you subconsciously give off a slightly sour smell even with the scent blockers you were taking he could still get a small whiff of your anxiousness.

He wouldn't admit that he liked being in your presence and liked your sweet scent that you released when you were content/proud with yourself but to the other teachers they could see his slight favoritism towards you when having a teacher aid (mainly because he only let a few teacher aids assist before stating whether he would accept them or not and you were the only one he accepted, of course no one had told you this)

He also seemed to be softer around you which Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic) noticed almost immediately and would tease him about when they were alone

It had been a normal day basically a routine, you get up, take a shower and get dressed, have a quick breakfast, take your scent blockers and then leave your complex after checking you had everything while you lock your door and ride your bike to work.

Once you got at UA and confirmed you were a employee with a small badge you were let in and you quickly lock up your bike heading into the school going to the staff room and sat down before you realized that you had forgotten to pack lunch, you involuntarily let out a small whine very softly only Aizawa looking up from his desk giving you a raised eyebrow

You blush a bit realizing what you did and laugh it off and started to help grade assignments for class. You left notes on some papers of encouragement and some helpful feedback for when someone got a answer wrong.

You weren't quite done with grading while you heard someone calling your name and you look up seeing Aizawa "Y/N it is almost time for class" you nod smiling and trying to push down your urge to breathe in his lovely scent as you get up grabbing all the papers that have graded and also the ones you haven't

Shota say you picking up your papers and sighed to himself as his alpha desperately wanted to take them from you and to show his strength

"I'm ready Aizawa-sama!" You smiled brightly at him before he starts to walk to the class and you follow closely behind, he wanted to tell you that you could call him with a more friendly tone but decided not to

You both had desks by each other and you waved to what students who were already filling the classroom shortly after you two walked in. You decided to take the upgraded papers from Shota's desk and focus on them while he taught class and let Iida make sure the class stayed focus while he went into his sleeping back laying down. You always giggled to yourself whenever you say him do that but switched your attentions back to your grading silently as the classroom was filled with small chatter.

You didn't notice that it was lunch until you saw students leaving and that Shota was sitting in his chair now calling to you

"Hey Y/N"......"Y/N?"

"H-huh? Oh sorry I was focused heheh what do you need Aizawa-sama?"

He grunted a soft displeased noise as he ,secretly wishing you paid that much attention to him, said "take a break already its lunch" it took you a few minutes to process what he said and you just shyly look away and nod softly

"Sorry I guess I got caught up didn't I?..." before he could respond your stomach growled and you were immediately flustered while he just stared at you thinking about how cute your were and how he couldn't wait to make you his omega

You both had a small understanding of each other about appreciating the quiet. He shot you a glance "aren't you gonna get your food?" He had pulled a snack out of one of his desk drawers "ah... I uh....." he waited patiently for your response as he suddenly smelled a soft scent of distress which his alpha immediately wanted to jump to you and calm you down with purrs but Shoto resisted the urge as you quietly mumbled "I forgot to pack it...." he thought to himself about offering some of his snacks as his alpha wanted to prove himself by providing for you

You smiled as you mostly went back to your normal scent "its okay though heheh I'm not that hungry anyway so I'm just gonna get something from a vending machine" you explained while you got up and left the classroom but Aizawa had noticed that you were off all day and that you probably took more than your normal scent blockers but decided not to think about it while he ate his snack

You where really hoping no one had smelled your pre-heat at the moment and your mind rushed wanting to make a nest back at yourself home but you knew even if you did that it would feel like it was missing something...... it would feel uncompleted unless you had something that Aizawa had scented, being embarrassed by your own thoughts of wanting to have your long term crush finally scent you and gave you some much needed love. You decided to let your omega have a small victory by getting a sweet snack from the vending machine

Walking back you saw you were getting some strange looks and you were confused until a particular cocky student tried to flirt with you and thats when you realized oh shit they could smell it

You were surprised that they could smell it even with your scent blockers but you immediately BOOKED IT to the classroom quickly eating your snack as you ran in

Shoto was surprised to see you rush into the classroom but kept his poker face but soon realized that you were distressed by the overwhelming sour scent. He began to walk to you but not before you hid under his desk and let out a distressed chirp, his alpha was screaming at him and he increased his own scent in the classroom to hide yours and calm you at the same time

Crouching down he gave you a headpat calming you down "sorry just I am uh...." you don't think you could look at your crush while you were getting the courage to tell him that you were in preheat

You let out a surprised chirp when you saw him lean in and you immediately wanted to kiss him but you blushed when he leaned towards your scent gland (on your neck) and sniffed it you subconsciously moved your neck so he would get more access to it shutting your eyes nervously biting down on your lip

"You are close to your heat aren't you?" It was hard to control himself and keep his calm demeanor while your sweeter than normal scent filled his nose all the while his alpha wanting to help you with those needs thinking to himself no wonder you were off al day

You nod softly and looked at him to see what kind of face he had and you couldn't lie that you had been happy to see a small tint of blush on his cheeks

"I forgot to keep track sigh I only realized because I was getting stares from some of the stronger alpha students"

He immediately wantedto bring you home so you could nest and be protected but then realizedit might be too far away...."How close is your home?"

You mumbled quietly "not that close" which wasn't a complete lie it wasn't the closest place to the school but it was closer than most teachers

Aizawa had to think to himself, would you be okay at his place? Did he even have enough nesting materials? While he was pondering he never stopped head patting you forgetting about how close you two were until you couldn't control yourself from your encouraging omega saying go for it so you shamelessly moved your head into his chest clutching his shirt tightly hoping he wouldn't be repulsed by you and which how could he? You were just so cute but he still froze up for a split second by the sudden contact before wrapping his arms around you patting your back now instead and released comfort pheromones all the while you just breathed in his irresponsible scent (more so than before)

He practically whispered into your ear "I'll bring you to my home and keep you safe Y/N"

_________

I hope you enjoyed!!! If not I'm sorry???

#mha omegaverse #bnha omegaverse #omegaverse #alpha aizawa #gn reader #aizawa fanfiction #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #shoto aizawa #first fanfic #easerhead #too many tags

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yutahoes · 3 years

Text

Devil Inside

pairing : childhood friends! Yuta x Y/N

genre : fluff, horror au, smut but not detailed

word count: 5.6k words

warnings: fuckboy Yuta, calling someone a 'goth girl', horror movies, Yuta becomes an incubus, too much blood, raw meat eating, flesh eating, human organ eating, slut shaming a minor character, calling Yuta a whore, killing, mention of male molestation, mentioned teacher-student intercourse, shirtless Yuta, mentions of breeding, mentioned kitchen sex, mentioned shower sex, mentioned rough sex, Y/N getting wounded, skipping classes, Yuta as a murderer, a cambion. In other words, this is disturbing and problematic.

a/n: Inspired by this set of pictures and the movie Jennifer's Body. This is my first time writing a horror themed AU and this is badly written. I just can't stop thinking about this so for me to do something productive today, I had to post this. 😂 This has uncomfortable theme so please read in moderation. I went crazy over this, sorry. Feedback is highly appreciated. 😘

You and Yuta had been friends since forever, stemming from the history of your parents being friends and all since college. Your home is his home and you have your own room in his house. Staying together inside one room isn't a problem, your parents trusted you both but growing up is different.

You had to admit that you grew up leading a boring life, too bookish, and didn't even interact with your classmates. Yuta, on the other hand, has always been the life of the party, the school superstar, the popular guy. And that huge difference created a wall between your friendship.

You didn't know when it started, it just did. He started hanging out with the cool kids while you were left in the shadows. You can't really get mad at him, that's growing up. And he didn't change when it was just the two of you.

When your parents would go abroad for their business trips, Yuta would check on you every night. If you have eaten dinner, if you've locked all the windows, or if you knew the number for the police station or the fire station in case something happens. He's still the same Yuta. Your childhood friend, Yuta.

"Did you do your assignments?" He asked, not removing his eyes from the TV where he's watching a horror film. This is something that he can't do at their home or his mom would freak out.

You rolled your eyes, answering a 'Yes, abeoji' while opening the fridge to see what to have for breakfast tomorrow then whining since there's more raw food in there than easy-to-eat foods. "I'll probably skip breakfast tomorrow." You said more to yourself, already thinking to wake up early and just get some waffles from the shop near the bus stop.

"Just leave the back door unlocked, I'll cook breakfast for you tomorrow." Yuta claimed that made you look at him.

You raised your eyebrow at that. "Weird that you're here." You started then sat next to him on the couch, "No date?" He showed a screenshot of her photo, a different girl than yesterday. She was wearing black, with black eyeliner, and a pierced eyebrow. "She looks like a goth. Is that your type now?"

"She's hot!" He exclaimed and you just nodded at him. "And she wants to meet at 11 pm so yeah." That was a weird time to meet up. But you didn't react and just focused on the TV just as the jump scare happened. You quickly hid your face on the throw pillow, blowing heavy breaths that made the guy next to you laugh. You hated horror, hated blood, and you're convinced that Yuta is doing this to scare you. "I'll get going." He said, standing up.

"Can you close the TV first? Or stop the movie, at least?" You said, face still behind the pillow. He laughed then closed the TV, engulfing you in darkness that made you more scared. The bloody face from the TV earlier flashing on your mind.

"Sorry Y/N. I promised not to scare you like that again." You heard him say then felt something warm on the top of your head followed by a smooching sound. He patted your head, "I really have to go. I'll see you in the morning."

You waited for the sound of the door closing before you removed the throw pillow from your burning face. He kissed your head, right? You felt that. Why would he do that? Does he know that you have a crush on him? Or is it just his manwhore ways? But why you? You screamed at the throw pillow, cursing at Yuta for being the charming guy he is.

You cannot deny the fact that each day, your feelings for Yuta had to grow. Who are you to blame when he's getting more handsome each day? And you're just a girl who has a weak heart for him. The image was still vivid in your mind, the first time you watched a horror movie and you were already crying in fright ten minutes into the movie. "I will protect you, Y/N." And you believed that. Yuta is always there to protect you.

A loud bang can be heard that made you wake up in your sleep. You listened for other noises and heard footsteps, someone is inside your home. The first instinct is to call Yuta but what if he's in another place, you cannot trouble him. So you just took the baseball bat he lent you for this circumstance, repeating in your mind the number of the police station.

You quietly tiptoed down the stairs and saw the light of the refrigerator open. Is it a food thief? And how did he come inside your house? You can see a trail of blood on the kitchen floor that startled you. The bat was dropped on the floor when you saw someone seated in front of the refrigerator. "Yuta?"

He was covered in blood, eating the raw beef as if starving. His eyes were blood cold and you stepped back in fright. He looks like a monster. What kind of a crazy dream is this? You have to do something to wake up. Anything to wake yourself up.

And as stupid as you sound, you hit your head with the bat that was on the ground.

You opened your eyes, the sunlight hitting your eyes and your head aching real bad as if something hit you. You groaned while stretching then remembered your dream. Yuta. Your kitchen. Quickly, you ran to the kitchen to see Yuta’s mom cooking something. “I’m glad you’re up. You’ll be late for class.”

“Auntie, where is Yuta?” She shrugged, saying that he didn’t even go home last night. It was a normal occurrence, that’s part of Yuta’s social life. “I’ll just prepare for school.” When you glanced at the couch, Yuta’s baseball bat was there. Weird, isn’t it supposed to be in your room?

You had a nice breakfast, thanks to Yuta’s mom, and enough time to go to school. The first thing was to get your books in your locker and walk to class, avoiding some of your schoolmates who block the way. Before you can get inside the room, you see Yuta passing by opposite your way with a new girl in his arms. You knew her, the cheerleader, the basketball team’s girlfriend. Wow, she reached the soccer team now. When your eyes met with Yuta, you were reminded of him seated on your kitchen floor. Filled with blood and with dead cold eyes. You shake your head. That was a dream. You shivered. A very vivid dream.

It was a normal boring school day, a typical day that it surprised you when Yuta wrapped his arms around you then leaned closer. “I need your help.” A curious look was etched on your face. “Math. Help me study for the exam tomorrow.” You nodded, removing his hand from your shoulder. “Why?” He asked before putting back his hand on you.

“I just don’t want your girlfriends to misunderstand.” Yuta chuckled then pinched your cheek. “Yuta, stop it. It hurts.”

He smiled. That breathtaking smile which makes you weak for him. “Sorry.” He whispered then leaned to place a kiss on your reddening cheek, startling you. Your eyes widened at his actions. What is wrong with Yuta? “You do know that I like you more than I like those girls, right?” What? Your heart kept on beating wildly against your chest that you’re scared he might hear it. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

Once you breathe in, without realizing that you’re holding your breath, you saw everyone’s eyes were on you. Oh no! This is trouble.

You went home early, trying to stay away from your schoolmates. You don’t want to talk to them and explain that you’re friends with Yuta, that will cause some damage to him. But why did he do that? You tried raking your brains for an answer but you can’t seem to find the right one. So you just shrugged it and maybe ask Yuta when he gets to your house.

It’s late at night. You finished reviewing the whole chapter for your exam tomorrow yet Yuta is a no show. You lightly glanced at the house next door, seeing that the living room lights were on. Their car isn’t in the garage, meaning his parents are not at home. Then you saw the silhouette of someone making out on the couch. Oh, his ditching makes sense now. You closed the door and made sure to close the light, ready to get a good night’s sleep.

You opened your eyes in darkness, the clock reading that it’s almost 4 am. You felt thirsty that you decided to go downstairs to get a cup of water, halfway through the stairs you can see someone on the other door’s yard digging up something. Curious, you put on a coat and exited the backdoor to check on it. The same Yuta, covered in blood, and this time you knew you weren’t dreaming.

“Yuta?” You called but he kept digging. Blood mixed with the soil and the most horrible thing you can see, limbs. “Yuta.” You called once again, even holding his shoulder to make him look at you. He kept covering the body with the soil, even covering it up with a large pot. What has he done? This isn’t the Yuta you know and it scared you.

“Y/N.” He called that made you look at him. The warmth of his voice is still there. “Help me, please.” He sounded broken. “I’m really scared.” The first time you saw this reaction on Yuta. He looks so fragile, so vulnerable.

There’s a part of you that’s still wary of him. You have questions in your head that you wanted to ask him and you waited for him to finish his shower, while you make coffee for both of you, as you collect your thoughts. When he sat in front of you at the kitchen table, he looked like the Yuta you knew except there’s pain in his eyes. “Yuta.” You called, rubbing the side of your cup. “What…?” But you don’t know what to ask him.

“I killed Miss Jang.” Your eyes widened in surprise. The assistant PE teacher? “We had amazing sex and then…” You shook your head. He had sex with a teacher? Wow, his man whoring is of another level. “You don’t understand, she’s been touching me appropriately for the past couple of months so I just gave her what she wanted.”

A gasp escaped your throat. “She’s what?” He just stared at you. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Do you think someone would believe me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shook his head. “Because it’s embarrassing.” You scoffed then rolled your eyes at him. “So you killed her?”

“I ate her.”

“Yuta, I don’t need the details of your sexcapades…”

“I ate her organs.” Your eyes widened in surprise. What? “It’s a craving after having sex with someone. I just want to eat something raw and her flesh can’t even satisfy me.” That explains why he’s covered with blood.

The memory of that night came to you, when he was eating that raw meat from the fridge. “When did it start?” He answered last night and you were more surprised that it is true and not a dream. “How?” He shrugged. “What do you plan to do now?”

“I don’t know.” He held your hand that was on the table, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Help me, please. I don’t want to kill another woman again.” You sighed. This was Yuta. Your childhood friend. The guy you like. You nodded before thinking how stupid it is to do this.

The news of Miss Jang being missing is the talk in your class the next day but what’s more surprising is some testimony of the guys who were molested by her, like Yuta. You watched as your friend fiddled with his thumbs, obviously listening to your classmates. He actually did them a favor but something isn’t right. Why is this happening to Yuta?

A sexual thirst, a thirst for flesh. Your phone showed a result called an incubus, a demon that pursues sexual relations with women. But why does Yuta keep on eating flesh to satisfy his craving? You stood up and decided to ditch class just to have the answers to your questions, finding yourself in the back of the library. The collection of forbidden books.

“What are you doing here?” You immediately hushed Yuta as you got hold of a black book, opening it to reveal different pentagrams and illustrations of spooky creatures. “What is that?”

“An incubus.” You said then sat on the library floor, Yuta following you. “Demons who attract women for sexual pleasure.” Before he could say anything else, “I think that was what is happening to you.”

You visibly saw him gulp. “You think I’m a demon?” No, you don’t.

“Possessed by a demon, Yuta.” You flipped the pages of the book to see about the different rituals on how to summon a demon. “Did you join a cult? Or even got drugged and was offered as a human sacrifice?” You stopped. That night. That girl. “The goth girl, you saw her that night. Do you remember what happened?”

“We had sex.” You rolled your eyes at that, of course. “I told her I’m a virgin because she likes guys like that. We had amazing sex, mind-blowing sex.” You sighed. “Then I woke up on your kitchen floor.” That’s all he remembers? Finally, your thoughts are confirmed, it isn’t a dream. You really saw Yuta that night. “You were lying on the ground as well and I had to remove my shirt before carrying you to your room.”

The thought of the shirtless Yuta carrying you made the blood rose up your cheeks. “You were covered in blood that time and the trail…”

“I had to clean that up before you wake up because you’re scared of blood.” You stared at him warmly. He had to think about that? “You saw me?” You nodded, sharing that he was eating that raw meat when you saw him. “Did I scare you?” If there was one person you cannot lie to, that would be Yuta. He can easily see through you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I won’t hurt you, I promise that.”

You held his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “I’ll help you, Yuta. We can remove that demon inside you.”

The only conclusion you can come up with is to meet with the same goth girl he met before. Yuta remembered having sex with her and he was eating that raw meat as if really hungry so she might be alive, Yuta didn’t kill her. And you have to hurry because each night that passes, Yuta has someone to bury in the backyard. It's a female prostitute one night, then a drug pusher, followed by the girl in class who bullied you.

It's becoming a huge issue in town, the disappearance of young girls, that your parents had to come home quickly worried about your safety. "From now on, go home early." Your dad ordered. "I'll ask Yuta to walk you home every day." How would they feel if Yuta was the one doing all these?

He was worried about you joining him in meeting up with the girl, even repeating to you that he'll kill himself if something bad happens to you but you assured him that you'll be fine. It's not you who needed help now, it was him. You need to put a stop to this before another one gets hurt.

The girl was laughing cynically when you asked her what to do to remove the demon inside your friend. "A cambion." She answered and you curiously gave her a look. "That's the goal of an incubus. Once there's a cambion, he will leave the body he's possessing."

A cambion? All you need is to have a cambion so the demon can leave Yuta. You searched what it was and just facepalmed yourself. Fuck this! Will he be saved?

----

"You want me to breed someone?" You shiver at his choice of words but nod, nonetheless. "How can I do that when eating them becomes part of the sexual process?"

You shook your head then ruffled your hair. This is getting you crazy. "You know, this is your fault for whoring around. If you just had a fixed girlfriend then this wouldn't happen…"

"Then why did you reject my confession?" You blinked twice as if it can clear what you heard. Did you hear him correctly? "I told you I'll marry you in senior year and what is your answer? I'm not marrying you, Yuta." He said while copying your voice, leaving you dumbfounded. "I was heartbroken that time so I started dating other girls then maybe you can finally notice me."

"I thought you were teasing me that time." Your voice got louder that your mom knocked on the door asking if you two were fighting. He shook his head, smiling at your mom. When she closed the door, you just stared at him awkwardly. Once again, you had to ruffle your hair. This is so frustrating! "Just, make a baby with someone."

You waited, biting your thumb as the clock struck 3 am. You haven't had the right sleep thinking of what might happen to Yuta then you saw movement in the yard. Quietly, you went out of the backdoor of your house and saw him outside, blood on his clothes. "What happened?"

He shook his head. "Same."

"Where is her body?" You removed your cardigan to wipe away the blood from his face and his neck.

He looks tired, hopeless. "I left her body on a roadside." You gasped at that. "I can't save myself. I'll be like this forever." He can't, he needed to fight himself. Fight his urges. But even you knew that it was impossible.

There was a flicker of light coming from their kitchen, someone was going to see you. They're going to see Yuta with a bloody shirt like this. "Remove your shirt." You ordered and he looked confused so you just ripped it from him. Shit, you just realized how this looked like when two booming voices can be heard calling both your names. Both your dads.

"Where is your shirt?" Your dad asked, arms crossed. You're inside your house, both your fathers and mothers staring at the two of you. "And you're wearing only that outside?" You glanced at the thin nightgown you were wearing and Yuta handed you a throw pillow. "Please wear your shirt, Yuta."

"I ripped his shirt, dad." You heard both your moms giggle. "Can we please not make a big deal of this? This isn't what you think it is."

Yuta's dad sighed. "Our only concern is why bother doing it outside? We let you sleep in each other's room." What?

"Are you exhibitionists?" Your mom asked and you gasped. Is that what they're thinking now? Your head aches, you didn't have any decent sleep yet and this ordeal with Yuta is making you lose your mind. Can't you just all talk tomorrow, not at 4 in the morning?

Yuta held your hand, lacing your fingers together. "I'm willing to take responsibility if something happens to Y/N." Surprised, you glanced at him. Nothing happened, he knew that. What the hell is he saying so suddenly? "But can I please stay with Y/N tonight, uncle?"

It was a surprise when your dad allowed you both to go upstairs to your room but you had to wait until they're in their rooms before getting your cardigan and Yuta's blood-stained clothes from the yard. Yuta was still seated on your bed when you went back to your room, staring at you with his misty eyes.

He pulled you close, arms wrapped around your waist while his head was on your chest. "I'm scared." His hold got tighter. "I don't want to hurt anyone anymore." If you're frustrated with this, you realized Yuta might be in bigger pain than you are. You held his hair, threading your fingers along its strand. You've been together for so long but this has been the most intimate thing that you two had ever done. "You were right, this is my fault for hurting those girls. I used them for my self pleasure, to boost my ego. This is me getting punished for all of that."

You held his hands, kneeling in front of him to see his face. "But you don't deserve this, Yuta." You held his cheeks as tears started falling from his eyes. "We'll do something, I promise."

He pulled you up, letting you sit on his lap. The warmth of his eyes makes your heart beat rapidly inside your chest. "I love you, Y/N." Your eyes widened at the sudden confession, "I'm sorry for getting you dragged into this but I'm thankful you haven't left me yet." He hugged you, head on your shoulder and you can feel his warm breath on your neck. "I love you. I don't want you to leave me."

You wrapped your arms around his neck. He's scared, you can feel him shaking. "I won't leave you, Yuta." You let him sob in your chest like a little child just wanting some warmth. And you realized, this might be just what he needed.

Both of you skipped school that morning since you slept at 5 am, just laying next to each other. Your head on his chest, hands held together. It was him who first got out of bed, prepared himself, then placed a small kiss on our head before leaving your room. If only you could stay like this. But he had to go and fuck another woman tonight to satisfy his thirst, making your heart ache. Can you live like this?

Your parents and Yuta were seated around the dining table when you went down for breakfast. "We were just telling Yuta that we have a business trip in Brazil." You nodded, used to it by now. "And because of the news around, it would be better that he stay here with you." Your mom suggested that it made you surprised. After last night, they're letting you live in one roof with a guy, unsupervised?

"Mom. I can stay at home alone."

"I know. But just to be safe." You're not even safe with their suggestion. "I know what you're thinking honey. You're a female and a male with raging hormones, it's alright with us." Yuta choked on the food and you hissed at your parents.

Your dad coughed lightly. "We stacked some condoms just in case."

"Dad!"

"Honey, we agreed to let them have their freedom." You glared at your mom. "We really wanted a grandchild." It's your turn to choke at your food. Then it made you stop. If he breeds a human, the incubus will go away. This might just be your answer.

---

"No, Y/N!" Yuta stated firmly after explaining what your plan is. "What if I hurt you?"

You shook your head. You're not scared of that now but you're frightened for Yuta and the things that might happen to him if this continues on. The police started investigating the missing dead girls, it's only a matter of time before they can chase down Yuta. You held his cheeks, distress can be seen in his expression. "I trust you, Yuta."

It was a crazy plan. When your parents left that afternoon, you stacked up some raw meat that the butcher thought you were throwing a party. Yuta didn't kill the first girl, the goth girl, and you're holding to that belief that Yuta can have some control over himself. When the night struck, you locked all doors to your house that would forbid Yuta from going out.

"I'm giving you the last chance to back out from this, Y/N." You shook your head. "I'm sorry." He whispered, carrying you to the countertop of the kitchen. "If something bad happens, I'll kill myself. I swear."

You giggled then wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Then we'll be like Romeo and Juliet." He laughed at your reference before moving closer to plant his lips on yours. Your first kiss with Yuta. His lips were so soft and he tasted so sweet that made your brain hazy.

When he slipped his tongue inside you and his fingers dug on your waist, you knew there's no way you can get out of this. You can feel his warmth in every touch, in every part of your skin his lips touched. He slowly undressed you, making sure that he's still Yuta and whispering promises that he wouldn't hurt you. He didn't at first and you refused to believe that you made love with him at your kitchen counter.

The grandfather clock signaled that it is midnight. Yuta just pulled you down from the kitchen counter, turning you around, and thrust into you that made you scream. No foreplay, no kissing. You turned to see his eyes, those dead eyes. His hand held your neck, the other digging in your waist. You prevent making a sound, not wanting to alert his parents next door. His teeth dig in your shoulder, an excruciating pain that makes you bite your lip to prevent a sound. This is how he kills them.

You tried to reach for the raw meat nearby, desperately trying to move out of his hold. You pushed yourself away from the counter, causing him to fall to the ground. You watched as he took the meat and ate it as if starved, like the first night you saw him in this state. Every night, he's like this. An appetite for sex, an appetite for flesh.

And it breaks your heart that you can't do anything to help him.

He ate five portions of the raw meat and you mentally told yourself to get some tomorrow for what might happen at night. You covered him with a blanket as he lay down your kitchen floor, kissing his forehead. You wanted this to stop, wanted him to be normal again. You clean the wound on your shoulder as well as the scratch on your side, hissing in pain as you put medicine on the bleeding part.

You woke up with his warm arms wrapped around you, a kiss on your wounded shoulder woke you up. "Did I do this? I really did hurt you." He grazed his finger on the spot that hurt as you shook your head. He nuzzled his nose on your shoulder and you felt his warmth. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"But Yuta this is better. We know that you still have control over yourself." You sat on the bed and he traced the scratch on your side. "When the clock struck twelve, that's when you started having that hunger. We're slowly knowing things about you now. We can do this together, Yuta."

He nodded, watching you stand up then head to the bathroom. You were supposed to close the door when you felt him enter the same room. The warm feeling is back when his hands touch your body, in contrast to the cold water cascading down your body. You skipped class again because of the pain in your shoulder and he went to school.

If this continues, it's better to listen to both your parents and just get married. Live together in a far city where you can start a new life, maybe you can give birth to Yuta's child and it will end his suffering. As you put new meat inside the fridge, you heard a knock on the door. Yuta came in with a distressed look on his face. "The police are at school. They were starting to suspect a student at school."

"Did you do anything?" He shook his head, hands clasped together. "Just lay low for a while."

"What if they found out that it was me?" You shook your head, that's the worst-case scenario. And you promise not to let that happen.

He stayed at your house, particularly your room that night. When the clock struck twelve, you were pushed on your bed with Yuta pounding on you real rough. The moment you felt his lips on your neck, you rolled to the bed and reached for the raw meat on the bedside table. You breathed hard, you can do this.

The police were doing their best, you had to give them that. And it scares you that they'll narrow it down to you and Yuta doing these things. The disappearance of the women stopped but the deaths were a mystery that the police remained to look for clues. It's been a couple of nights since you've done this with Yuta and every day, a new wound would appear on your body.

Your parents came back from their business trip when they noticed the amount of raw meat in your fridge and the wounds in your body. You tried to shrug it off, saying that it's just your clumsiness. Yet, they never bought it. You cannot ask Yuta to stay over so you keep your phone in your ear, watching his room for movements. The moment the clock struck midnight, nothing happened to your surprise. He kept saying that he's fine, that he doesn't need anything, that he's still Yuta. Maybe an off day.

You slept relieved but woke up with the sound of police sirens. You glanced at the window outside and saw the yard next door being dug out by your dad and some men in uniform, Yuta's dad watching nearby. How? You ran downstairs to check on Yuta but your mom quickly told you to stay inside. "We're sorry, we trusted you to a murderer."

"He's not." You shouted trying to see from the window. Yuta was handcuffed, a large man holding him in place. He shook his head when your eyes met and the sight of rotten decaying bones caught your attention.

Your stomach churned and you vomited on the kitchen sink, your mom helping you by rubbing your back. "He's such a sweet child. What happened to Yuta?" Your mom asked and you itched to tell her that it's not him. A devil inside him.

Your eyes widened at the realization. Nothing happened last night. Now, you're having this weird feeling in your body. A cambion. And you felt yourself fainting at that information.

---

It's been years, seven years to be exact when that moment happened to your life. Yuta's parents moved to a different town but you still see them from time to time, as well as your parents. When they found out that you were pregnant with Yuta's child, they immediately sent you away to give birth abroad. Your son was three when you went back to the country and introduced him to his dad.

"Daddy!" Your son cheered seeing his dad walking outside the huge gates of the visitor's area. The older was grinning wide, carrying his son to where you are. He kissed you on your forehead and your son giggled, "Daddy, mommy said I can go to a big school this year." He nodded, letting the young boy sat on his lap. "Grandma and grandpa are going to buy me my bag."

Yuta giggled and you noticed how the two looked very much alike. It was the exact reason why your parents warmed up on Yuta and let you introduce your son to him. "I'm sorry. But when dad gets out of here, I'm going to pick you up from school every day."

You can feel your eyes water at that. The younger boy wrapped his arms around his neck, "When are you getting out of here?" You both sighed. It's always his question.

"Just another three years, then we can be together." There's a lot of pain in his words. "You and mommy can wait for me, right?" Your son nodded.

He reached out to hold your hand that was above the table. You nodded at him. You waited this long, another three years wouldn't hurt. He engaged in another conversation with the younger boy and you gazed at him, he looks better than the first few years he's here.

"Time to get back, Nakamoto." The police officer said and your son hugged his father's neck, refusing to let go of him.

This has always been a problem every time you visit Yuta. "Honey, we have to go. Daddy has to get back." You said quietly, taking him from Yuta. Your son glared at the big man behind his dad and he just turned his head to look at the wall. "Honey, let's get ice cream." You said quickly and the younger smiled at you. The guard turned around, asking what happened that his head was hurting.

Yuta gave you a worried look but you just shook your head, putting sunglasses on your son. "Say bye to daddy." You whispered and he obeyed you. "I'll come to visit you soon."

He kissed you on the forehead, "I'm sorry." Again. you shook your head. No one warned you about having a cambion and the risk it takes to be its parents. "I love you." But right now, your son and Yuta are the most important people in your life.

"I love you, too." And you're willing to throw everything in the past just to be happy with your small family.

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