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#what makes it worse is that im not taking my furniture to the new house

crazystargirl · 10 months

Note

Hii, just wanted to pass by and let you know that your blog has such a nice theme and I loveeee.

Also saw that you have requests !

So how about some Ethan Landry with some really heavy angst, with a sad ending.

I’m just in a sad mood and need my feelings more hurt ☹️

hope that’s not to much to ask for, take your time too ! please and thank you !

sincerely, ‘💐’ anon ! 💓

we'll get through this ♥︎

pairing ♥︎ - ethan landry x fem!reader

word count ♥︎ - 0.9k

a/n ♥︎ - awww 💐 anon i hope you're feeling better, tbh i don't understand why you want to feel worse but im also the kind when i dont feel happy, i curl up on the ground and listen to lana del rey and just cry, so i cannot be talking lmao. first time ever writing angst and as someone who hates angst to her very core i only added the angst towards like the ending and made it a sad ending. also i love the idea of having different kinds of anons!!

you came home as usual, nothing seeming to be wrong but it was eerily quiet. you had a bad feeling, something that you always got whenever ghostface had attacked your friends

you were always on edge ever since the attacks but even more now, something was going to happen.

suddenly your phone rings, making you jump and grab a knife just in case.

you look at the caller id, it reads quinn bailey

you scrunch your brows in confusion, wasn't quinn dead?

you slowly pick it up and put the phone on speaker

"hello?"

"hello y/n"

you froze at the voice, ghostface decided that you'd be the next victim which was not great at all because barely anyone ever survived their attacks

"what do you want?" you ask gripping the knife and going to call the police with the landline

"don't you dare call the police or I'll rip ethan's head!" ghostface yelled

"wait what?"

your phone vibrates, indicating that you got a new text, you look at it, seeing a photo of ethan sitting on his bed studying.

the photo looks like it was taken from far away but you could see ethan looking in the direction of it…thats strange

you quickly texted him to come over since ghostface was at your house

"why are you doing this? why can't you bastards find something to do other than running around and killing your friends?" you say trying to stall a bit

"oh but y/n it's fun, you wouldn’t understand it though because you're the little sweet, dumb girl who had the misfortune of falling for the shy and dorky nerd who might be ghostface"

you scoff, "he's my boyfriend and not ghostface, at least i can find a boyfriend unlike you who's so pathetic that you have to go around calling girls who have boyfriends for fun"

ghostface doesn't say anything, you think you hear another voice from the phone. ethan then texts you back and said he was coming asap

since there was silence for another minute you're about to hang up until ghostface speaks again

"were you about to hang up?"

you froze, "how did you know that?"

"sweetie i can see you right now"

you turn around and scream at the sight of ghostface, for some reason you noticed the ghostface was around the same height as you which immediately made you think it was a girl

you started running but ghostface was right on your tail, getting close enough for them to stab you in the shoulder

you scream out at the pain, managing to catch ghostface off guard and slam a pan at their head

just as you reach the door ghostface grabs you and pulls you back, stabbing you in the stomach

you let out another blood curdling scream, the pain of it hurting you so badly. you see ghostface about to raise their knife again before you kick them in the crotch

that managed to keep them distracted and you hoped that it was a male since you knew it would hurt like hell if it was one

you ran to your room and locked the door, moving furniture against it to make sure ghostface couldn't get in

since there was a fire escape in your room, you headed towards there only to be grabbed and thrown against the floor

you clutched your wounds, which continued to bleed out, making you lose blood

ghostface looked down at your wounds and laughed, stabbing you once more

you scream out again and then just stop, causing ghostface to bend down and look at you

you watched them take out their phone and call someone, it took everything in you not to scream out and cry

just then ethan runs into the room looking at ghostface

"quinn what the fuck did you do to her?!" ethan said as he ran to your body, clutching you close to him

you felt him put your face to his chest, cradling you closely as ghostface or quinn laughs

"well ethan you were too distracted by her, it was clear you weren't going to kill her so i did for you"

"get out! just leave me alone quinn"

quinn laughs and leaves while ethan lets out a sob

"eth…im still here or somewhat" you laugh weakly and pull your face from his chest

it broke his heart to see you in a state like this, tears staining your cheeks and your body bloody

"we need to get you to a hospital quickly"

you give him a small kiss at the corner of his mouth, "no it's ok really, i'm going to die either way"

"no you are going to survive baby" he said putting pressure on your wound

you giggle, feeling delirious at this point, "eth you have really pretty eyes"

"no no no baby don't die please not now"

"im not gonna die eth i just am really tired"

"no y/n/n please don't go please"

you then go still, making ethan sob even harder

he cradles your body close to him, burying his head in your hair. ethan is still in shock that you're gone

he hates quinn right now and knows that he's going to give her a long and painful death for killing the love of his life.

you had your whole life ahead of you, only 19 and now dead because of his bitch sister.

he remembers that some of the last things you had told him was that you two were going to get through this whole ghostface thing but now without you, ethan just doesn't know what to do with his life

taglist ♥︎ - @xyzstar, @ourloveisgod23, @dizscreams, @kaesworldxx, @bhk1234uwu, @nonniesworld, @athenalive, @lanaslittletwinkie, @beccajoestar

if your name is crossed out it's bc it wouldn't let me tag you

a/n ♥︎ - ok i have no clue if this is shitty or not but all i know is that i was listening to love by lana del rey while writing this and i actually started crying, anyways i hope you enjoyed!

©crazystargirl 2023 || do NOT translate or repost my work without my permission

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry angst #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x you #jack champion x y/n #jack champion angst #hahhahhahaha this is kinda shitty

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

hi! so. a while back (like, a good while back) I found a fanfic for you and you said something about a story/short thing in return? I said I'd take you up on it, but then took an extended leave of absence from Tumblr and never did. anyways, im feeling things about gay dads and also Peter Parker and I was wondering if you could do something with iron husbands and tony's many adopted children, both bots and otherwise? idk. you're amazing.

The first kid that gets adopted, in a sense, is Dum-E. He’s the product of a lot of “you can’t do this” energy.

People really do think that Tony and Rhodey aren’t capable of creating an Artificial Intelligence unit that can think for itself.

The final nail in the coffin is when Rhodey is visiting the Stark family home and Obadiah Stane treats their goal dismissively.

When they get back to their home in Boston, Rhodey sets his jaw.

“We’re making that fucking system, Tones. I don’t care what happens.”

“So what you’re saying is that we’re disregarding our previous agreement about limiting lab rules?”

“Yes. Null and void until we bring this fruition.”

This is a very important rule. Despite what most would think, Rhodey and Tony are capable of setting limits and following them. But if there is no physical reminder of that rule, then they can ignore it.

(This is actually just the excuse that they make up so that they can make Machiavellian machines.)

Dum-E spins around and ruins at least three pairs of socks that Rhodey leaves on the floor.

“At least you finally stopped that habit,” Tony says. Rhodey rolls his eyes, watching as Dum-E finally realizes that he cannot possibly open the door to the porch and will stop bumping up against the glass.

"He’s an idiot,” Tony says fondly.

“Took after his mama,” Rhodey jokes. Tony slaps his arm.

“Hey!”

The second and third are twins. Kind of. Both of them absolutely insist that they are not twins because they are very different. After all, U likes alternative pop, which Butterfingers finds simply unforgivable.

Rhodey and Tony didn’t know that the other was making a robot. Dum-E was lonely, and their anniversary was coming up.

They both decided to make Dum-E a sibling and laughed as U and Butterfingers basically rolled up to each other and immediately tried to fight.

“So...who’s first?” Tony asks.

“Hm...U, I think.”

Butterfingers sulks. She’s youngest by one day, and U will never let her hear the end of it.

“I know baby girl,” Tony coos. “But you look so pretty. Look at how nice your dad painted your display!”

It is rather pretty. It’s all cool with yellows and blues. Dum-E is a jealous.

Jarvis is more Tony’s than anything. Made after a lonely Christmas. Not the one that most people think.

Edwin Jarvis died in late November.

Tony didn’t rest until it was done.

They sob together as Jarvis states the weather in a crisp, accented tone that sounds so much like the original.

The siblings all get along like a house on fire, although Rhodey swears that Jarvis loves to instigate drama when Tony doesn’t need it.

This is how Dum-E and Butterfingers get into a week-long feud about whose turn it is to close the fridge door. This is a Very Important Job.

Jarvis makes it worse.

“You are trying to kill me,” Rhodey says, scowling. “You know your brother and sister would fight.”

“I am a learning program, Colonel Rhodes.”

“Don’t call me that. Call me anything but that.”

“Confirmed, Private Rhodes.”

“I hate you.”

“You wouldn’t visit my creator so much if you truly meant that.”

Rhodey gives him the bird, and Jarvis almost huffs.

He’s an amazing kid, really.

The next kid isn’t for a while longer. It’s not until a year after the actual event, that Rhodey wasn’t there for.

So he went by Iron Patriot for a while. Didn’t stick. He’s kind of glad it didn’t.

This one didn’t even know about Rhodey, which is a travesty.

It’s a snot-nosed little tween who says he’s not a tween, and his name is Harley Keener.

“Tony Stark and I are connected,” he says stubbornly. Rhodey let him into the house, not like he’s going to just make this kid stay outside.

“Like what, through an email chain? Texting?”

“Life experience,” Tony says. “Hey kiddo. Who the hell let you take a bus all the way here?”

“Bus drivers.”

“Ha ha. Where’s your mom?”

Harley tenses.

His mother got a new boyfriend. New boyfriend didn’t like Harley or his little sister. Little sister is living with an aunt, and Harley didn’t want to live there. So here he is, in New York.

“You don’t have to take me in, but I won’t stop bothering you,” Harley says.

Tony sighs.

“Come on in, kid. Like I’d let you do anything else.”

It’s complicated. Rhodey realizes he’s dealing with another Tony with a bit more stubbornness to him and blistering genius.

He calls his boss.

“I need to put in my two weeks.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Let’s just say I got preoccupied by surprise.”

“Don’t tell me your guy brought home another bouncing baby robot.”

“Well...not really. This one’s human.”

“Christ.”

Harley loves New York. He manages to navigate far easier than Tony ever could, and he grew up there half his life. Harley learns which bodegas are good, and what food trucks he needs to watch out for.

He also adjusts to school far easier than expected, although the environment is much better. He’s being challenged, and he has people that can follow him.

This is when Tony and Rhodey look into Midtown and discover a kid with a lot of promise.

Spider-Man, technically, isn’t confirmed to go to Midtown.

But Harley’s a bright kid and realizes that Peter Parker is Spidey.

It also helps that the makeshift suit is hanging out of his backpack in a back alley.

Peter gets an internship, and Rhodey laughs as Tony groans.

“Oh my god, how do kids have so much energy. How.”

“We were like that.”

“No we weren’t.”

“Do you forget we created Dum-E in, like, a week because we ignored the concept of time?”

“Hm. I choose to forget that. It didn’t happen.”

Rhodey laughs.

They all have family nights. The bots are particularly enamored with movies, and drag Harley and Peter out of the lab to watch them.

It’s Butterfingers’ turn, and she always chooses a soft movie. This time, it’s an old silent film.

Dum-E likes action movies, so this is not the favorite.

“Hush, you got to choose last time honey,” Rhodey scolds. “Don’t make me cut off your turn.”

Dum-E goes silent as Peter snickers, flicking a piece of popcorn at U, who is currently trying to rearrange the furniture.

(He’s decided he wants to watch videos about interior design this month. He’s very invested in Manifesting His Vision.)

Tony smiles at Rhodey across the way. Harley had said he wasn’t tired, and now his head is on Rhodey’s leg, and he’s out of the world. Peter’s getting there, yawning into the pillow he’s decided is his.

U has gone to “charge” although he says he’s Fine, No Charging for Him!

(Jarvis has to laugh.)

It’s not the typical family lifestyle. But Tony and Rhodey want anything but typical.

#anyways i want the bots being Funny and here it is #bot fic #family fic #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #peter parker #harley keener #i was going 2 write a bit more but i am tired and i liked the ending a lot :)#i hope y'all do too!#lovelyirony writes #jarvis #dum-e #u #butterfingers #iron man #war machine

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gwoongi · 4 years

Text

best years

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: best friend au, bff-to-lovers au, fluff, angst, guk is pining rating: general words: 2.6k warnings: its a short little fic, sort of like one chunk of a big chocolate bar and im gonna slowly feed u one chunk at a time until you’re sick and full a/n: a squint into the mind of bff jeongguk who will star in an eventual “idol best friend” series that i routinely dream about but have always felt it disrespectful to write about but at the end of the day everything i write is fiction and jeongguk would probably be less offended by a “canon divergence bff au” than he would reading my drug addicted rockstar au so :-) read it & weep folks

Jeongguk’s always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Jeongguk feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be, even with the money, and the fame, and the doubts he tries to hide.

Jeongguk was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that. It was risky taking any step out of his house at any moment, even on the days where it was pouring outside; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the shrubs in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame.

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse as he booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Jeongguk takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face. For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR, and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the member of BTS who didn’t give a damn when the ‘real’ reasons for travel were taken away.

But Jeongguk thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in Manchester, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures. You were at University now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally woke up next to months before. It had been four months since Jeongguk had seen his true best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.” Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses rested on the end of his roundish nose. He led Jeongguk out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Jeongguk smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Jeongguk. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road going one way only, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Jeongguk’s still playing that sentence on a loop. He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. A man stands in the doorway, a cigarette out of his mouth and ash dropping to his toes bare in sandals. It smells like doughnuts, and weed, and he smiles brightly. He’s missed the UK, and how unbelievably shockingly awful it is when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of London online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Jeongguk says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only became a fan three months ago. And yeah, I figured. Finally, I understood why all the white girls studying Korean here wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Jeongguk frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy on Twitter when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Jeongguk until the words die out. “Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours...it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Jeongguk feels his stomach flip, kind of like butterflies. These butterflies are sour, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Jeongguk is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister. You’ve never been his sister, even when you were part of his family growing up. There were times you came to all of his Korean family events, the times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different to that, you both knew it but never acknowledged it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice, big and pretty-skinned, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Jeongguk remembers looks a lot like your Dad’s back in the day. Might be the same, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Jeongguk, but the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here, he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.” He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were fifteen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep hidden and secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left as Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the 99p store, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Jeongguk manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down. As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person- white walls and a bed set that’s white with a peony pattern. Above your desk, Jeongguk recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at University who Jeongguk always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his neck at a strange angle against the wall your bed is literally attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the Fleetwood Mac song ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Jeongguk hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race. Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and...and, then what?

Maybe you didn’t even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Jeongguk was in Korea and you were still at home, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Jeongguk was burdensome. Worse, maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Jeongguk teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause in the room, and Jeongguk cocks his head with his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him. Suddenly, there’s small but quick thuds across the carpet and Jeongguk feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling as you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Jeongguk’s eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape in his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Jeongguk absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Jeongguk feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Jeongguk rises up to a sitting position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when you’re next to nothing away, Jeongguk wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, tightly hugging you.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck. Jeongguk smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds Jeongguk of cabbage patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jetlag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jetlag, Jeongguk realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming.

Jeongguk kisses behind your earlobe, and just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Jeongguk was a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this. You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Jeongguk feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8. Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop- it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid's bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the confusion as he moves the hair that's across your face around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows. Jeongguk convinces the role of casual to perfection and bites back a sour taste when he notices you’re the same. Casual, unmoved, maybe even like it didn’t mean a thing.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, Guk, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but...Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean...the guys know I’m here. Hoseok drove me to the airport with Jimin.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Jeongguk sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. Girls will be girls.”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by it-”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“Was growing it out,” Jeongguk replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Jeongguk dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Jeongguk’s underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle. The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Jeongguk even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you. That could be why Jeongguk feels the way that he does, why this confusion wraps around his body and traps him. Jeongguk knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Jeongguk knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. JEON JUNGKOOK GOES TO UK TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND...BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT BTS JUNGKOOK IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s how he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Jeongguk might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant spending one more day with you.

Jeongguk’s got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to Korea with more regrets than he came with, and for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth. Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be known on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Jeongguk doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. One tries to escape when you hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease you didn’t mention it. He wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy it.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and he’ll have to be patient.

#jeongguk scenario #jungkook imagine #bts imagine #bts #bts scenario #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk imagine #jeon jungkook #jjk #jeon jeongguk #bts x reader #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #best friend au #idk what this is its shit

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andreils-keys · 4 years

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kay so ive been taking prompts from my instagram and

why would you tell me not to kill one and if i do to bring him back please you’re taking all the joy out of writing >:(

anyways lets get into it <3 (tw: small mention of domestic abuse)

(disclaimer yes i am a kandreil shipper :))

andrew is cursed in the same way blue was sort of where if he tells someone that he loves them they’ll die (yes i changed it a bit)

but instead of doing the whole 'you're cursed zap magic' thing (bc i don't think it'd fit very well in the aftgverse) im gonna try something else

andrew had some pretty shitty foster homes when he was young

but the worst one was a small house by a family-owned ice cream shop

he remembers the ice cream shop very vividly. it was where he went when his foster mother was out working or drinking. it was where he went to feel safe.

he was pretty young, maybe 4 ? 5 ? impressionable. in that stage where santa claus and the boogie man were real, where hiding under a blanket protected you from nightmares. (he learned pretty quickly that hiding under the blanket did not protect you from anything.

he was bashed and battered with fists and words, words that cursed his very being and proclaimed that to love him was to die.

he was so young

he was only a child

and he did what children do best

he believed

there was a time when he doubted

another foster parent, a run down house made beautiful with love and mismatched furniture

the road to healing is rocky and dangerous, but easier to traverse when you have someone behind you

finally, he let himself love

he let his foster mother in, little by little, and he thought: maybe im not a curse

and he said: i love you

the day after, she died in a car crash

the car brutalized

her body brutalized

his heart brutalized

coincidence? he says out loud at the entrance of another foster home. because it needs to be said. because lies always become crystal clear when said out loud.

bc of this he's never directly expressed love for anyone and he tends to distance himself from people just to make sure there's 0 risk of him causing someone's death

but if he does care for someone he shows this through actions (no i love yous because that's what he believes caused his foster mothers death)

he's always had people he's cared about, people he's wanted to protect and keep safe

but ever since the car crash, hes never had anyone hes wanted to say i love you to

until

[enter kevin day]

the first person that consumed him was kevin, the boy that sought him out in high school with desperation in his eyes, raving about a sport that had made andrews days in juvie a little more bearable.

the man that always appeared on television with a cardboard smile stamped onto his face, always a step behind riko moriyama, always hiding in his shadow.

the man that inexplicably made yet another appearance in andrews life, this time with a shattered hand and a plea for help.

the man that pushed and pulled andrew just enough to get him through another day, another week.

and then neil, so different from kevin and yet so alike, as sudden as a gunshot, as tantalizing as death.

the boy that's as invested in riko and kevin as andrew is.

the boy that is impenetrable and distrusting, the boy that lets no one in.

at first andrew thinks he's safe. as long as neil doesn't let anyone in, that means andrew won't have to let him in. and kill him.

aha sike. turns out neil is the trusting-no-one-but-andrew-minyard-and-kevin-day type

the three of them form a twisted complicated pyramid; each side leaning against the other two. immovable. strong. inseparable, unless andrew deliberately pushes himself away when the feeling ballooning in his chest is too much.

(although he will always get pulled back in. the gravity of neil and kevin is too strong for andrew to stay away.)

he promises to protect them because that's what he does for the people he cares about.

but falling in love is a whole other ball game.

andrew is so afraid.

afraid to love them, afraid to let them in.

he knows he can't allow it; every time he thinks of how much he feels for them, he remembers the car, the shattered windows, the pieces of glass tipped with blood.

but andrew is only human.

even if he tells himself not to fall in love, the heart and body tend to ignore the mind.

he let’s himself be selfish

the hard press of kevin's lips against his, the gentle tug of neils fingers threaded through his hair, a hand clamped against neils neck and the other gripping kevin's arm.

that is all andrew allows

he doesn't mind if kevin and neil go gallivanting off somewhere on their own (s a f e l y; if those idiots get taken by the yakuza it would be extremely inconvenient for andrew)((andrew: dammit now i have to save them from the mafia nicky: you don't have t- andrew: no im gonna)), even if it prods unpleasantly at a sensitive point in his heart. if they're happy, hes happy.

(well, not quite happy. satisfied is the proper word. and he supposes that's the most he can ask for.)

he doesn't tell them about the nightmares. the dreams of fire and blood and twisted metal, of fists and a curse and a small, dark room. more often than not neil will wake to find andrew sliding out of his bunk and going to the kitchen for a bowl of ice cream.

neil won't pry, but he'll wake kevin and they'll join andrew in the kitchen, standing on the other side of the counter from andrew with their shoulders pressed together, a reminder to each other and andrew that they are there for each other.

and then neil disappears. like a dream. like smoke.

andrew took his eyes off neil for one second, and neil vanished in the crowd of angry fans.

they search and search but neil is gone.

all they find is neils exy racket lying on the ground in pieces, broken from the stampede of fans.

andrew whispers, the words dredged from a desperate, vulnerable place inside him: i love you. neil, i love you. come back to me. come back to kevin. come back to us.

the next day, the fbi tells them that they found neils gym bag. it was covered with tire tracks and spattered with blood.

they couldn’t find neil.

and the pyramid falls.

the grief and guilt and heartbreak andrew feels is unparalleled. never has he felt so broken. never has he felt so dirty. he did this. he did this.

kevin insists neil is still alive. lost and floating, but alive

but andrew knows better.

his nightmares get worse. sprinkled in with the mauled car and heavy fists is a shattered exy stick, a gym bag dripping blood, an unreachable figure with red hair and a slash of a smile.

andrew spirals.

he refuses to speak to anyone. even kevin. he'll stay with kevin and press his palm into the side of kevin's neck, his pulse grounding andrew and keeping him in the here and now, but he will not speak.

cabeswater brought gansey back right and i feel like the one closest to magic would be renee (thank you neils jortventures fairy magic huzzah) except she doesn't use magic.

so remember how she was affiliated with a gang when she was young

there was a member of the gang that continued to reach out to her, especially once they escaped from the gang a little after renee did

renee did respond to their messages, but she tried not to initiate conversation because they were part of her old life and she was living and loving her new one.

essentially she was nice enough not to cut them out completely.

unfortunately the kid got caught up in another gang that was closely associated with the butcher of baltimore

when nathan dies they text renee about how their gang is in pieces because the butcher is dead.

renee isnt there to receive the message right away (she and andrew were sparring, as they were keen to do now that neil was gone and andrew was out of sorts) and kevin is the one to catch the word butcher when the notification pops up

he scrambles for renees phone and sees: the butcher is dead.

he is so relieved because the butcher, the man kevin always had to fear and avoid, is dead

and then he starts to think

neil’s father was the butcher. does this have something to do with neil? was the butcher the one that took neil? if the butcher is dead, does that mean neil is still alive?

it’s a bit of a stretch, but kevin is willing to believe anything if it means that neil is alive

he tells andrew

he doesn't expect andrew to do anything but he still wants to tell him, just so that andrew will know, just so that kevin himself can taste the words.

kevin asks renee if they can reach out and she's like wtf y'all doing going through my phone but she understands how hard it hit them, andrew especially, and if it'll help them she'll go along

they meet up with the kid

renee seems nice enough, but andrew can tell how strained she is by the way she keeps cracking her knuckles one by one

they get the info from the kid about a red haired blue eyed cut up burned kid

kevin is distraught about the cut up burned part

andrew is close to vomiting from a whirlwind of relief (they never said he was dead) and denial and fear for neil

he refuses to get his hopes up; he said the cursed words. he saw the blood on neils’s gym bag. he saw the shattered exy stick. (or was that a dream? his nightmares and reality are so tightly interwoven he can hardly tell what's real)

the kid warns kevin and andrew that the last time they saw neil was in the basement and that the probablity of him still being there is relatively low

kevin makes a sort of impatient gesture at the kid and they bring kevin and andrew to the house (renee stays behind; she made a lame excuse about needing to make a phone call but she just wanted to give them space, either to reunite with neil or grieve their loss a second time)

from the outside, it’s a nice looking house and it doesn’t look threatening in the least, but andrew knows how deceiving appearances can be

once they go inside everything is in shambles. the couch overturned, the tv screen cracked in multiple places, ceiling plaster and pieces of porcelain all over the counters and dining table

the kid points them to the basement

kevin is the first to go down

andrew is surprised mainly because kevin is usually always so careful

andrew follows more warily, afraid to find nothing, afraid to find neil; afraid to have his heart broken all over again, afraid of the prospect that he has wasted his entire life living a lie.

he reaches the basement to find kevin wrapped around a small beat up, bruised, burnt, and shivering lump.

neil is hurt and bloody, and it drives a stake through andrew’s heart, but the fact that neil is breathing and alive alive alive causes a different kind of pain, the unique pain of relief and sorrow and love swirled together.

kevin is stroking neils hair and very obviously trying not to have a panic attack and andrew goes to them

sits down

both kevin and neil look up at him, and andrew watches as some of the fear and pain in their eyes fades.

he can feel the words bubbling up and he wants to say them, to scream them, but they are stuck inside his throat, twisted around his tongue.

it is a language andrew has taught himself to unlearn.

the road to healing is rocky and dangerous, but easier to traverse when you have someone behind you

it’s even easier when you have two people behind you, people who have seen what you have seen, people who make an effort to understand you.

andrew eventually does say it.

the words, no longer cursed, are still clumsy and fall in a messy jumble at his feet

but there they are, light as a cloud, heavy as a storm:

i love you

#aftg #all for the game #aftg hc #aftg headcanon #aftg headcanons #kandreil #kandreil hc #trc #bluesey #this wasnt supposed to be angst #and then it turned into kandreil angst #and honestly im not complaining

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noonachronicles · 4 years

Text

The Malebranche Pt. 1

Im Changkyun/I.M. X Reader & Lee Jooheon X Reader

Word count: 9.4k

Warnings: There is cursing. It’s a story about demons so...probably a little dark in theme. This is demon smut. I’m not being flippant or dramatic. It’s literally smut with demons. This is 18+. I’m not your mom and I’m not the fan fiction police. So just don’t have unprotected sex and don’t fuck demons. There’s also some edging.

Genre: Demon AU. Modern Fantasy. Sorta Soulmate AU

A/N: This is for @nemesyis. You probably just wanted some porn without plot but if you haven’t noticed... I’m incapable. Here is some porn with a light sprinkling of plot for flavor instead.

‘The Path to Paradise Begins in Hell’ - Dante Alighieri

The Eighth Circle was a beautiful burlesque club. It was expected by many to be a front for a brothel or a drug ring but there had never been any proof of it even after several raids and countless undercover investigations. Everyone just assumed that something illegal was happening there, and no one could blame them. It was a cesspool of sin and debauchery.

The club was located just outside of the city in a three story Victorian style mansion. The inside had been completely gutted and renovated by the owners but the outside stayed essentially the same. Only a new layer of paint had been applied. Wine red paneling, black trim, and gold accents. Gothic Barbies dream house.

Inside there was a large foyer with blood red carpets and gold walls. The ceiling was covered in a renaissance style painting. Though the art was not light and angelic like one might have expected. It was dark. It demons and sin. It was the inferno. Beautifully done, but terrifying if you looked too long or too closely. The foyer broke away into three different theatre style rooms. The Red Room, The Purple Room, and The White Room.

The Red Room was the most popular room, it was the most sinful of the three. Named appropriately for it’s color scheme. Red furniture, red floor, red walls, red velvet panels draped overhead. The only things that weren’t red were the crystal chandeliers. Those were consistent through every room in the house. The Red Room experience stood in the center of the four corners. Night club, burlesque club, strip club, and sex club. Consent was the only rule in The Red Room.

The Purple Room offered a slightly more cabaret atmosphere. Mostly purple everything with silver accents here and there. The performances were rambunctious and inclusive. Despite the dark aesthetic it was a classic good time. Usually The Purple Room housed bachelorette parties and birthdays. Large groups of women just looking for a memorable night out.

The White Room, the third of the triplets, was mostly white with accents of gold. It was the most elegant room The Eighth Circle had to offer. Sheer white fabrics hung from the ceiling along with gold and crystal chandeliers. The floor was a bright white marble laced with rivers of gold striping. The couches and chairs were white velvet cushions on gold framing. Women, scantily clad in white lingerie, carried gold trays filled with champagne in crystal stemware. The White Room was mostly for politicians and businessmen that would bring in out-of-towners to impress and seduce them into working with them. Occasionally vanilla couples would partake in The White Room as well if they were trying to spice up a fading love life. Typically if it worked the couples could be found in The Red Room within a week.

The owners of The Eighth Circle were the Malebranche Brothers. Sometimes they were referred to as the Malebranche Twins. Though you’d seen them before in town and couldn’t imagine they were at all related. Most people, however, just called them the Demon Twins.

You would have normally suspected that particular nickname had to do with all of the references to Dante's Inferno that surrounded them whether intentionally or unintentionally. You found it much more likely that the people thought the brothers had a hint of evil in them and less likely that they would have picked up on the literary references. It wasn’t that you thought everyone in town was an illiterate moron. You’d lived in this town your whole life. You knew that everyone in town was an illiterate moron.

The brothers, if that’s even what they were, were young. In appearance they seemed about your age but there was something about their mannerisms that made them seem much older. It’s part of what attracted you to them. They were unlike every other bachelor in this town. It was like they were from somewhere else entirely. A bigger city was your only guess. They had a sense of class and elegance that made them entirely desirable. Unfortunately they weren’t only desirable to you. Every woman and several of the men in town flung themselves desperately at the pair every chance they got. So while you continued to fantasize about them, you knew that’s what they would remain, a fantasy.

From what you knew of them Jooheon was the older of the two brothers but not by much. He was known for his unbelievably plush lips and unmistakable dimples. His hair color usually changed with the seasons but you always thought he looked best with a darker tone. He was also said to be the kinder of the two. He had a pleasantness that his brother seemed to lack, which was probably why he was the one known to take care of the business side of The Eighth Circle.

His brother was Changkyun. He’d been nicknamed the Evil Twin by the people in town. Mostly due to the stern, unimpressed look of his lips when his face was resting. On occasion you’d seen him out to lunch or in a shop with his brother and thought he’d seemed quite playful and even childish. He didn’t scare you too much.

Though you knew Jooheon was meant to be the kinder of the two brothers you would never forget the first time you’d seen them. You were shopping in the city. Jooheon had just stepped out of the car and was headed into a restaurant when he’d turned in your direction, looking just over his shoulder, and his eyes met yours. It was terrifying, just the way it felt, like in that instant he was inside of you.

It was as if he knew every one of your thoughts, every desire. There was just something about him. Lust incarnate with the way your attraction to him tugged at you like there was rope around your waist whenever he was nearby and he held the opposite end firmly in his grasp.

In that sense you felt lucky that they were a deviant desire and nothing more. Certainly you wouldn’t be able to handle either one of them.

Changkyun stood on the third floor balcony that overlooked The Red Room. He was leaning over the banister, soaking in the immoral energies of the night's patrons. A wicked grin grew across his lips as he watched hands grasping flesh. Lips on lips. Very little attention made to who was partaking in who. He loved his work.

“Honey.” he said as his brother moved behind him, not bothering to turn his attention from the activities below.

“Kyun.” Jooheon said leaning against the bannister beside him.

“How are things running?”

“Smooth as ever. Smoother even. Busy for a Wednesday.” Jooheon shrugged, sipping from his glass of bourbon.

“Lucky for us, brother, sin never takes a day off.” Changkyun laughed and snatched the liquor from his brother's hand to take a drink.

Jooheon grew silent, closing his eyes. Changkyun looked over just as they snapped back open to show pitch black orbs. He inhaled deeply, his hand gripping the wooden banister so tightly his knuckles grew white with strain. When he exhaled his eyes lightened to their normal brown.

“She’s here.” he gulped.

Changkyun’s eyebrow perked with mild interest, “Your little townie girlfriend?”

“Don’t be an asshole.” Jooheon glared.

“Where is she? No! Wait!” he chuckled enthusiastically, “Let’s play a game.”

Jooheon shook his head, “I don’t want to play with you. You cheat and you’re mean.”

“Don’t be such a fucking infant.” Changkyun snapped, but his smile had returned in the same blink, “Pleeease, Honey. You never play with me. I’m bored.”

He sighed in quick defeat, prefering to avoid another of his brother's temper tantrums, knowing that Changkyun could always make things worse if he was denied what he wanted. “What’s the game?”

“If I can figure out who she is on my own, without any hints from you, I get to fuck her.” Jooheon’s jaw clenched, but his brother wasn’t done yet. “I get to fuck her...first.”

“Changkyun.” he growled between tight lips.

His brother only laughed, “Oh please! Please, brother! Who knows if I’ll even be able to figure it out?”

“No.”

“What if I make it a little harder for myself?” he asked, “I only get three guesses.”

Jooheon rolled his eyes knowing full well Changkyun was not going to let it go until he agreed to play. “Fine. Three guesses. No hints.”

“Deal.” Changkyun grinned and held out his hand.

Jooheon grabbed his brother's hand and in an instant they were wrapped in a bind of fire to seal the deal. Jooheon could see the flames dancing in his brothers glistening black eyes, he already felt defeated. His brother always got everything he wanted. Why should she be any different?

After the deal was sealed Changkyun clapped his palms together. “Let’s begin! ONWARD! To the foyer!”

You stood at the bar in the foyer suppressing a yawn. Requesting a date on a Wednesday night meant this guy had already been docked points in your book. Being late meant he’d lost even more. Mostly you just hoped he wasn’t going to stand you up. You chewed on the stem that had been attached to the cherry that came with your drink and eyed yourself through the mirror behind the bar.

You looked so good tonight considering the speed with which you had to get ready between getting home from work and the original meet up time. Your dress was stark white and tight against your curves. The hem sat against the tops of your thighs, not even thinking about nearing your knees. The neck was a deeper v than you normally wore but the white lace sleeves made it seem more classy than slutty, so you thought anyway.

Your blind date was forty minutes late and you had to decide between getting another drink or calling it a night. You lifted your hand to grab the attention of the bartender, ready to close your tab and giving this date a time of death but then you felt it. A tightening in your stomach, you crossed one red stiletto covered foot over the other, squeezing your thighs together and tried to keep breathing. You didn’t know how you knew it was him, you just knew he was somewhere nearby. This wasn’t the first time you’d felt it.

“Did you need something?” the bartender asked. “Refill?”

You shook your head and after a slightly put out look she turned and went to the next guest. Turning around you leaned your back against the bar and searched the room. It didn’t take long before you saw him. Not your date. Jooheon. Standing at the top of the stairs with his brother at his side.

Changkyun was saying something energetically as he looked over the crowd of club attendees. With a gulp you looked Jooheon over. His hair was bright red tonight, the last time you saw him it was blonde, and pushed back off of his forehead. You could see the dip in his cheek from his dimple from where you were, that's how deep it was, and the double slit in his eyebrow.

You bit your bottom lip as they made their way down the stairs, your heart was racing. He’d missed a few buttons on the black silk shirt he was wearing, intentionally you assumed, and you were mesmerized by the thin silver chain around his neck with its pendant that bounced against his bare chest. Your gaze had just made it to the holy grail, a golden snake belt buckle and a pair of tight black, leather pants that had your mouth a confused mixture of desert dry and waterfall of drool.

That was when you heard, “Did it hurt?”

Moving your focus you met your date, Kihyun, with the single red rose he said he was bringing. “Huh?”

“When you fell from heaven?” he grinned.

Oh. No. You faked your very best chuckle. “That’s cute.”

“I’m Kihyun.”

You lifted the rose he’d handed you, “I’d gathered.”

“I reserved a table in The White Room. People say it’s hard to get a reservation here but honestly I found it easy. I always get into wherever I want probably because-” he continued to brag, not even humbly, but you had stopped listening anyway.

With every step The Twins moved closer. They walked right past you as if in slow motion, the sleeve of Jooheon’s black blazer brushed the back of your hand and you nearly lost your breath completely. Wishful thinking had you believing he’d even looked at you, however briefly. He hadn’t even gotten two steps away and you’d already imagined about four different ways he could take you right then and there. You could probably kill someone if it meant running your hands through his hair, kissing that dimple, knowing that man. Honestly you couldn’t help but to think to yourself that you might have to just sleep with Kihyun tonight even if things didn’t go well because you were pretty sure you were in heat. And why should you have to suffer through the night just because this guy hadn’t yet had the decency to apologize for being an hour late.

“Y/n?” he said, placing his hand gently on your forearm.

You jumped slightly, you were so incredibly wound up. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted to go to our seats now.”

“Yeah, let’s go...” You said with one last longing look over at The Twins.

While you were getting comfortable with Kihyun in The White Room, Jooheon was following Changkyun around on his mission through The Eighth Circle. First the foyer, where he would look at every guest and then back at Jooheon to search his face for some sort of slip up. Then The Red Room where he moved around the room in his charismatic way, gently touching guests on their hips or arms, asking them if they were having a good time and trying to read their energy. By the time they stepped out of The Purple Room he’d wasted two of his guesses. Changkyun was furious and Jooheon was feeling hopeful. Only one more wrong guess from his counterpart and he was free to pursue you.

“Give me a fourth guess.” Changkyun huffed, “One for each room and the foyer. It’s only fair.”

“What’s fair is you playing by the rules we’ve already set.” Jooheon declined the request, “One more guess.”

He hoped that in his frustration Changkyun would get reckless with his last guess. Guess on a whim, be wrong, game over. When they stepped into The White Room it was hard for Jooheon to not look directly at you. He also didn’t want to completely avoid you either, as Changkyun would be looking for that as well. His hands were shaking as he made it to the bar and requested a drink to steady his nerves.

Changkyun sighed deeply looking over the room. “Well, she’s definitely in here.”

“What makes you think that?” Jooheon asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“If you were vibrating any harder, every woman in this room would cum in an instant.” He grinned.

Jooheon shrugged, trying to remain casual. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure. You have one guess left.”

“Tiny or tall. Big or small.” Changkyun hummed to himself, “Blonde or Brunette. Virgin or...slut.”

“Are you and your horrid rhyming skills done yet?” Jooheon asked, “Shows about to start. Maybe you’d like to take a break from your boring little game.”

Ignoring Jooheon, Changkyun had a thought. “Maybe she’s neither virgin nor whore. Maybe, maybe she’s part innocence and part evil. You wouldn’t be attracted to anyone too good, that’s bland. But she couldn’t be too evil either or it would annoy you. You need someone just right. A Goldilocks.”

“What are you talking about?” Jooheon sighed. “How could you know what any of these women are like? I’ve never even met her. I don’t know her personality. There’s no way you could.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, dear brother.” Changkyun grinned and placed two fingers against his lips as he scanned the room. “Eenie meenie...miny moe.”

Slowly he pointed his two fingers out like a gun and took aim with you in his crosshairs. His eyes lit up and his thumb dropped as he released a pop from his lips.

“Found her.” He blew a gust of breath on the barrel of his finger gun and looked over at Jooheon with a wink. “Dressed like an absolute angel but there is... nothing very nice inside of her.”

Jooheon swallowed the lump in his throat. “Fine. Congratulations, you won your dumb little game. Please, don’t do this.”

“What’s the point of winning if you don’t get your reward?” He asked and sneered over at Jooheon who was pouting, “Oh good God. Stop acting like you’re in love with her or something, you don’t even know her. It’s pathetic.”

“If she says no to your advances…”

“Then of course nothing will happen,” Changkyun scoffed, “I’m not a fucking monster.”

“Guess that depends on who you ask.” Jooheon muttered.

“Well, this was fun but I think it’s time to collect my winnings.” Changkyun looked over at Jooheon curiously, “Are you going to watch?”

Jooheon rolled his eyes and finished off his drunk, “Go fuck yourself, brother.”

“Oh but I won’t have to!” Changkyun laughed to himself as he watched Jooheon storm out of the room.

Kihyun had gotten you a new drink before the two of you took your seats in the front row booth he’d reserved for your date. However he’d also talked so much, about himself, that your drink was already down to the ice cubes. You half listened to him as he described in detail what his average work day looked like and half watched the runoff of your melting ice. Taking a sip every time there was enough collected at the bottom of the cup to warrant taking a sip. What felt like three hours, but was only about twenty minutes passed before he finally looked at his watch.

“Wow, I can’t believe how fast time is flying.” He said with a smile.

“Who knew investment banking was so fascinating.” you offered with mediocre enthusiasm.

“I think they’re really about to get started soon. Would you like me to refill your drink again beforehand?” he asked.

You nodded gratefully, “That would be amazing, thank you.”

“Okay, but last one.” He laughed sliding out of the booth. “No one likes a girl that can’t keep her wits about her.”

Suppressing an eyeroll that hard nearly gave you an instant migraine. The second his back was turned you pulled out your phone and sent a text to the friend that had set you up on this blind date to let her know she was now your ex-friend. You cleared out a few of your awaiting notifications and then before you could even stop yourself your jaw dropped in the biggest yawn you’d ever experienced in your life.

“A yawn that big does not bode well for my business.”

If Changkyun was any other man in the world you assumed you would probably despise him based on his tacky fashion sense alone. Tonight he was wearing a silk, snake print shirt under a purple, velvet blazer. That alone would have been enough to turn you away from any other man, then on top of that his belt buckle was a massive, eye catching, howling wolf's head. Infact, rather than being repulsed by the outfit you found yourself staring quite unabashed as he stood in front of you. His pierced eyebrow was raised as he looked you over, and you noticed the flash of silver on his tongue as it moved across his bottom lip.

In your head you thought of at least ten clever, sexy comebacks to give him. Ultimately, after too long, all you gave him in reply was, “Huh?”

He snickered to himself, knowing full well he’d already ruffled your feathers and he was only just warming up. “If you’re not having a good time, I want you to know I will make it my personal mission to make sure that you do.”

Shaking your head you blushed, “It’s not...The club is great. Beautiful. Entertaining beyond comparison.”

His eyes darted over to the bar, lingered on Kihyun’s back for a moment, and then went back to you, “Oh no, it’s not...your date? Please tell me you’re not here, in that dress, with someone who is yawn worthy boring.”

Your mouth opened and then you closed it slowly into a smile as Kihyun came back to the table. He handed you your refreshed drink and took his seat in the booth before realizing Changkyun was standing beside your table.

“Hi...can we help you?” he asked, clearly confused.

“How rude of me…” Changkyun held out his hand and Kihyun accepted it. “I’m Changkyun. This is my club. Well, half of it anyway.”

“Do you often walk around to make sure people are having a good time?” Kihyun asked.

“Ahh.” Changkyun smirked, “Only when I see a truly beautiful woman in one of my seats.”

“Yes, well, y/n is a stunning specimen.” Kihyun smiled tightly, “I’d thank you for the wonderful time we’ve been having, but the conversation has been all us. The chemistry...spectacular.”

You could see the look in Changkyun’s eye, the one that said he had something witty waiting on that sharp tongue, but the lights began to dim. “Can I sit with you? Just for the first performance? I’d hate to be in anyone’s way.”

“I don’t think-”

“Of course.”

You and Kihyun spoke together, but ultimately you scooted into the booth further and allowed Changkyun to slip in beside you as the music began and that was the end of the discussion. The room went dark and a bright white spotlight hit the stage where the white velvet curtains parted to show the stage. An old, big jazz band song started to play and you watched wide eyed as a huge silver ring descended from the ceiling and sitting on the bottom arc of the circle was a scantily clad woman. You watched fascinated as she began moving around the ring. Hanging, dangling, contorting her body all around the thin bar.

Taking just a moment to break your gaze away from the stage, you grabbed your drink to take a sip. Your eyes caught Changkyun’s hand, resting on the top of the table, his fingers thrumming against the white table cloth. Silver bands on two of his fingers and black nail polish on three. Placing your glass down on the table, it took maximum efforts not to reach for his hand.

They looked so long and soft. You wanted to feel them and feel them on you. You realized that this might be the closest you ever got to one of the brothers, so you let your eyes wander. Over his hands, over his wrist with the thin silver bracelet that dangled from it, over his body. The rise and fall of his smooth chest, that you could see clearly from the way his shirt rested open loosely. He was leaning back against the booth and his neck looked so long you gulped. His profile was flawless, jaw sharp, chin perfectly curved, nose...god, his nose. There was a smirk across his lips when he turned his face. His eyes locked with yours, refusing to let you go, not that you’d have looked away anyway.

Changkyun lifted his hand to your face, dragging his fingers down your jaw before holding your chin between his fingers. You felt dazed in a way you had never felt before. You leaned towards him, you were nearly there, lips ready to press against the ones that waited there for you. Then you blinked. Just a blink and you were sitting back in the booth, the lights coming up from the end of the performance. Kihyun was applauding enthusiastically and Changkyun was slipping out of the booth.

“Wait!” you said suddenly. Changkyun turned to look back at you. “Do you...have to leave so soon?”

“Y/n,” Kihyun reached out and placed his hand on your knee, “I’m sure he’s a busy man with a lot to do. Let’s not bother him further. We can go get dinner.”

“Didn’t you say it was your personal mission to make sure I had a good time?”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” he grinned, “I suppose I could spend a while longer with you.”

“...that’s really not necessary.” Kihyun said quietly, but it was pretty clear he was quickly becoming the third wheel on this date.

You bit your lip as Changkyun sat back down next to you. Kihyun watched flabbergasted for several minutes as the two of you flirted right in front of him before he got up with a huff and took off. You felt a little bad but not enough that you would have gone back in time to change anything.

Changkyun, one of the widely sought after demon twins, had his arm over your shoulder and all of his attention focused on you. You pinched yourself several times until you flinched because it just didn’t seem real.

After a few more performances you mentioned needing to think about calling a cab to go home. Changkyun offered sweetly to take you home and you jumped at the chance. This night started out as such a flop and had turned into a fantasy.

“Stay here.” Changkyun said, letting his hand drag over your hip. He’d walked you out of The White Room following the last performance, and into the busy foyer. “I’ll call for the car.”

You inhaled deeply and let out a relaxing sigh. Being around Changkyun had you so tense, so unbelievably aroused. The knot in your gut was screaming for release, and though you didn’t want to be presumptuous you thought you might actually have a chance with him tonight. A big part of you wished you’d caught Jooheon’s eye, but getting to be with either of the twins was more than you could have hoped for yourself.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

Your blood prickled as Jooheon stepped next to you, his hands in his pockets.

“I..heh...um.” you shook with nerves.

Jooheon just smiled, his dimple digging deeper into his cheek. You wanted to swim in it.

Looking over at you completely he smiled kindly, “Be careful on your way home tonight. We’d like to have you back here again soon.”

“Wow.” You gasped.

You’d never seen him up close before, and honestly you weren’t ready for it. Changkyun was something. Jooheon was something else completely. His eyes were dark but glistened like galaxies. His lips were so...wet. Soft, plush clouds. Your heart was pounding so hard against your chest you were certain it was about to crash all the way through.

“What?” He asked quietly, like a whisper, just for you.

“It’s just..you’re breathtaking.” You’d be embarrassed about saying it later on when you remembered but for now it just had to be said.

He blushed at the compliment. “I could say the same for you.”

There was just something about him. Something inside you was so drawn to something in him. You thought about what it would feel like to just be held by him. He looked like the definition of comfort.

“Y/n.” Both of you turned to see Changkyun, standing in the doorway looking, in contrast, like the definition of devious. “We’re all set, are you ready?”

“Have fun.” Jooheon bowed out and you watched as he turned and left.

“Yeah, ready.” You smiled at Changkyun and he led you to the car waiting outside.

You slid over the black leather of the backseat and Changkyun slid in after. After you gave the driver your address the two of you sat quietly together. Several blocks passed by the window before Changkyun turned to you.

“You prefer my brother.”

“What?” You asked as if you hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes thinking endlessly about Jooheon and his impossible dimple and his unstoppable lips.

“It’s okay. It won’t hurt my feelings.” He assured you.

You sighed, “I don’t have a preference, it’s only that I’d noticed him first.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Why?” Your whole mood dropped.

“It’s just Jooheon is deeply interested in someone right now.”

“Oh…” you didn’t know why it stung so badly, you should have already known someone like him would have someone.

“She was there tonight at the club. Absolutely stunning young woman.”

“That’s so nice...for them.” You wished he’d stop talking about it already.

“It is, isn't it? Then there’s two poor, lonely idiots like us. Right?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

You scoffed lightly, “Poor, lonely idiot...that’s definitely me.”

Changkyun looked down at his lap and sighed, “Well, unfortunately I can’t get you what you want, but I can give you second best if you’re willing to settle.”

“What?” You asked in genuine disbelief. “You...would be interested in someone like me?”

“Not someone like you.” He corrected. “I’m interested in you.”

“Really?” You asked, “I don’t mean to sound...so surprised. It’s just, I find it so very hard to believe someone as handsome as you would be interested in me.”

“Why do you think I spent my whole night with you?” He chuckled.

“Honestly? Pity.”

“Not at all. Not even a little bit.” He looked over at you and smirked, “I spent my night with you in hopes of getting a kiss.”

You practically snorted in shock. “What?”

“Something small. Just to taste you.”

“Are you serious?”

He shrugged, “Only if you wanted it too. ...but since I’m not Jooheon.”

It would have been stupid to waste even another second so you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. You could taste how smug he was. The tip of his tongue swiped at your lips and you opened your mouth to him without hesitation. His tongue was soft and slick with the exception of the little metal ball that massaged your tongue.

You moaned into his mouth while his hands roamed over your body. He’d turned his body to yours, his fingers slipping up the thin fabric of your dress until his hand was your hip and the skirt was pulled all the way up to your stomach. You were a panting, breathless mess and his hands were only urging you further.

You pressed your palm against his chest, “Changkyun…while this is nice and I desperately want more...your driver is like right there.”

“Who?” He said looking towards the front seat and then back to you, “Minhyuk?”

“Yeah…” you nodded, “He’s probably already heard everything I doubt he wants to see it too.”

“Don’t worry. He’s deaf, and blind...and mute.”

“Your driver is deaf and blind?” You smirked.

“Sure he is.” He leaned in and sucked the skin of your neck until you whimpered . “Isn’t that right, Minhyuk?”

When you looked over you saw Minhyuk's eyes flicker to the rear view mirror and then back to the road.

“See, and mute. Like I said.” he slipped his hand between your thighs, fingers grazing your wrecked panties. “Now tell the truth, since your soaked pussy already has. You kind of want him to watch.”

You shook your head, “I don’t care about that. I just...It’s you. I really want you.”

A fire flickered in his eyes and his chest puffed up enthusiastically, “You do?”

“Well...yeah.” you laughed, brushing his cheek with your hand.

“Then you should have me.” His hand pulled gently on your hip.

The pull wasn’t aggressive, only suggestive, until you were throwing your leg over his lap, and sitting on top of him. As the car moved through the streets the backseat filled with the sounds smacking lips and desperate, lustful moans. His hands spread out over your ass and he brought your hips into his. The size of the bulge you felt between your thighs was more than you could have expected. Your eyes rolled back while your hips rolled forward in a needy attempt at getting the friction you hadn’t realized you were missing out on.

Changkyun sat smug beneath you, enjoying the frenzied way that you thrusted against him. Your teeth dug into his lips. It was as if you’d lost all control. Your animalistic need for him was outweighing any desire you had to preserve an image of a respectable woman. Then you were close, you could taste your orgasm on the tip of your tongue. All you needed was maybe ten more seconds with his bulge. And then it was gone. With a surprising amount of strength he plucked you from his lap and you were back on the seat, stunned into silence.

“It seems we’re here.” Changkyun said calmly as he straightened out his shirt and jacket. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

“I..umm.” you straightened your skirt down your trembling legs. “Well… thank you for the ride. I appreciate it.”

“I should thank you for the ride.” He laughed and then he asked in a slightly condescending tone, “You didn’t expect me to go in with you did you?”

Too embarrassed to even look at him, you shook your head and opened the door, “Of course not. Uhm, bye.”

You slipped out of the car and began the shameful walk inside. You heard the door shut and were waiting for the car to drive off when you heard Changkyun call out to you.

“Why would I be expected to come inside when you didn’t even ask nicely?”

Turning around you smiled at the sight of him standing beside the waiting car, looking proud of himself for fooling you.

“Changkyun… would you like to join me inside?”

With his hands in his pockets he walked over slowly. Casually, taking in the outside view of your apartment building, until you were standing chest to chest. Leaning down he whispered against your ear, “I would love to come inside of you. Oop, I meant with you.”

Without even asking your brain permission, your hips pushed forward until they were pressed against his. “I-uh…”

“Go on…” he prompted. “Tell the truth. Tell me again what you want.”

He was so close you couldn’t miss the opportunity to taste him again. Kissing softly along his jaw until you met his ear you whispered, “I want you.”

“Want me to what?”

You blushed and shook your head, “Just you.”

“Come on, y/n.” He grinned, “I know how filthy you can get. I just watched you hump me relentlessly in the backseat of my car. Stop playing coy and tell me what it is that you want.”

“I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs.”

He inhaled sharply and stepped back with a pleased smile, “Wonderful. Lead the way.”

Somewhere between your initial excitement outside of the apartment building and the ride up the elevator you remembered that your apartment was a mess. Usually your home had that typical ‘lived in’ feel to it, but it wasn’t a pigsty. However after the hurricane you had become in your attempt to get ready for your date it was a sloppy disaster. You tried to talk Changkyun into waiting out in the hall while you cleaned up but, too amused by your panic, he refused.

“May I have a look around?” Changkyun asked politely as you hurriedly picked up loose clothes from the floor.

“Sure...it’s messy. Obviously.” You warned, “I hadn’t planned on having anyone up.”

“Not even your date?” He called curiously from the living room as he surveyed your belongings.

You let out a quiet sigh as you considered how to answer him. Shaking your own head in disbelief you said, “I don’t typically do this kind of thing. You know, just… invite people home on the first date.”

Changkyun laughed heartily from the doorway of your bedroom and it made you jump. You hadn’t realized he was right there. “You don’t have to lie for my benefit. In fact I prefer your filthy, slutty honesty.”

Between the suggestive tone of his words and the dark look in his eyes, goosebumps popped up all over your body. He swiped his long, wet tongue over his lips and then casually turned his back on you to continue perusing your belongings.

“Can I get you anything? Water...wine…” you asked, lighting a scented candle and then leaning against the dresser once you’d finished your quick clean.

“Do you have any banana milk?” He asked and looked over his shoulder at your surprised face before he laughed, “I’m fucking with you. I don’t want anything.”

Your thighs rubbed anxiously together as you watched him look over your bookshelf. He opened a few boxes to find letters and photographs before moving on.

“You look like you’re looking for something.” You said with a tiny gulp.

“I am.” He said honestly before tugging open one of your bedside drawers.

“How do you know I even have what you’re looking for?”

He smirked as he made his way around the bed to the second drawer. Placing his hand on the handle he watched your cheeks flush and he said, “You absolutely have what I’m looking for...angel.”

You were practically shaking as he pulled the drawer open. He laughed again before reaching into the drawer and pulling out your favorite teal colored vibrator. Turning towards you he spun it around in his hand.

“Not even in the cute, silk drawstring bag for added privacy. Just sitting right on top where anyone can find it. What a bad girl...” He stepped over to you and dragged the toy against your thigh. “This guy must see a lot of action.”

“Maybe.” You said as he moved the vibrator up under your dress. “Why were you looking for it?”

“I wanted to see what you’re used to.” He leaned in until you felt his breath on your neck. “I wanted to see if you could take me.”

Your eyes closed gently, “And?”

“Inconclusive.” He said inhaling you deep into his chest. “I’ll have to conduct further tests. So if you’d be so kind as to go lay down for me.”

“Okay…”

“So agreeable.” He watched you slip past him and move toward the bed. “Take the dress off first.”

You stopped just at the edge of the mattress and unzipped the side of your dress. His eyes stayed on you as you tugged the dress off your shoulders and slipped it down your hips and thighs until it fell to the floor at your feet. Turning around you looked at him, his head was tilted and there was something evil in his smile as he took you in. Noticing that you hadn’t moved he looked up and caught your eyes and with a small shiver you climbed onto the mattress.

“No bra.” He noted.

“Doesn’t go with the cut of the dress.”

“Interesting that you didn’t plan on having any visitors tonight, and yet you’re wearing such mouthwatering panties. Maybe you’re just the type that owns only fancy matching sets.” He said, pushing himself off of your dresser and moving towards the bed, “If I check your panty drawer what will I find, y/n? A dozen matching lace, satin sets or a mismatched mess of cute cotton panties with pineapples and puppy dogs on them.”

“What do you think?” You asked softly as he sat down on the mattress next to you and crossed one leg over the other.

“I think I’d prefer you in neither.” He grinned, his pierced eyebrow raised and you realized his comment had been a subtle command.

Biting your lip, you squirmed as you pulled your panties off your hips and down your thighs. Changkyun cleared his throat and held out his hand once they’d unhooked from your ankles. You handed him the laced satin fabric. Fisting them in his hand he brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply with a satisfied groan.

“Mmm. That’s a five star cunt if I’ve ever smelled one.” He smiled, and placed the bundle of fabric in his pocket. His fingers danced across the skin of your stomach, over your hip, and down your thigh. “I’ve already done such a nice job on you. And we’ve only just begun.”

You watched quietly as he pushed your legs open and teased your soaked sex with this fingertips. They slipped over your slick folds, circled your sensitive clit, and dipped briefly into the velvety depth of you. He kept his eyes on your face the whole time, taking in every reaction, no matter how small. No matter how hard you tried to hide it from him, he was learning you too quickly. He lifted his glistening fingers to his mouth and hummed pleasantly as his tongue ran over them.

He dropped his hand down to your mouth and said, “Open.”

You twisted your tongue around his fingers before sucking them into your mouth. When he groaned and his eyes fell closed you wanted to cheer in celebration that you’d finally gotten him. Even if it was small, and even if he was definitely going to own you much harder, you internally celebrated your little victory. After a long minute passed with his fingers in your mouth he removed them from your lips and cupped your face in his hand.

“I...like you.” he said softly, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

Dropping his hand beside him he picked up the vibrator that had been laying on the comforter. A shiver went through you when he clicked the toy on and brought it between your legs. Your toes were already starting to curl into the blanket beneath you and all he’d done was drag the vibrator over your pussy. He circled the toy around your clit several times before dragging it down and back up. You didn’t know exactly what his plan was but you loved how it felt. Once he’d gotten the vibrator as dripping wet as you were, he pressed it inside of you slowly. Your mouth fell open at the sudden filling sensation of it.

“Touch yourself.” he requested.

As your hand reached down to play with your hardened clit, Changkyun leaned forward and took one of your nipples in his mouth. There was something so...detached and demeaning in the way you were completely naked and exposed while he remained fully dressed. Despite how small he had you feeling, you still felt incredibly powerful with all of the focus being on you. It was surprisingly sexy. You moaned as you felt your oncoming orgasm for a second time that night, while he fucked you with your own vibrator. Your free hand slid up into Changkyun’s hair and massaged the back of his head as he continued to suck and tease your breasts with his teeth.

“Fuck!” You shouted, back arching off the mattress, “Don’t stop, I’m so close. I’m gonna cum.”

You were right there that moment of agony before the ecstasy. Except ecstasy didn’t come and neither did you. Changkyun had pulled the vibrator from between your legs and turned it off and with the loss of the fill your hand had dropped subconsciously.

“Why?” You whimpered.

This was the second time he’d done that tonight and you were annoyed and furious and so aroused you wanted to scream. He looked down at you, his fingers brushing a few stray strands of hair from your sweat beaded forehead.

He shrugged, “It’s funny. You’re very cute when you squirm.”

He stood up from the mattress and pulled his jacket from his body before folding it and hanging it over the plush reading chair in the corner. He hummed a cheerful song as he walked back to the bed, rolling his sleeves up his forearms. Standing at the end of the mattress, he looked over you. Grabbing your ankles and he dragged you down the bed slightly until he had you where he wanted you and then he climbed onto the bed between your legs. Spreading your legs wide open he admired what he’d done so far. You laughed to yourself as he inspected your swollen, sticky cunt.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, spreading your lips open.

“Nothing.” you answered quickly.

You gasped as he smacked your sensitive sex, “Don’t lie. Tell me what you think is so funny. I love a good joke just like anyone else.”

“It’s just…” you sighed, “If you’re going to try and eat me out...it’s not going to work. Not after you’ve already gone so hard with the vibrator. It just won’t be enough to get me off.”

He laughed lightly, “Do you mind if I try it? If you think it won’t work, it probably won’t work but, I’d still like to try.”

“I’ve never said no to head before.”

You’d had one boyfriend in the past who always asked you to sit on his face. It was some of the best head you’d ever gotten. The way his tongue got deeper than any other before him, you were sure it was the only way you could come from oral alone. That was until now, until Changkyun.

He started out so timid. Tiny kitten licks, a long slow swipe of his tongue from bottom to top. It was nice but as you’d suspected it wasn’t about to bring you to orgasm. Then he changed tempo and once he had you suspected that his original apprehension was a red herring.

He pushed your legs open and put the weight of his arms down on them to keep from moving, which was smart because in seconds your body was attempting to snap them shut on his face. He sucked your clit between his lips and beat it senselessly with the tiny metal piercing on his tongue. You’d been wrong, and if he’d asked you would have admitted it readily. However he didn’t ask, he just kept going. You fisted his hair in between your shaking fingers.

“What...the...fuck.” you gasped as he snaked his tongue inside of you.

Not just inside of you, but deep. Deeper than should have been physically possible. There was half a sense of concern, what had he actually shoved inside of you, but the rest of you just didn’t care. The part that didn’t care won over as your hips started to push up into his face, needing more.

“Oh my god!”

Your gasps turned to shouts of pleasure as he brought out his secret weapon. With his tongue impossibly deep inside of you, the piercing massaging your slick sensitive walls you thought you could come like that. Then his nose brushed against your clit. You couldn’t breath. Your eyes blew wide and it felt like everything you thought you’d known about your own body was a mistake.

“Yes!” You screamed out as your hips tried to buck further into his face, “Fuck! YES! Oh god! Oh- shit!”

He kept on and you kept screaming until there was aggressive pounding on your bedroom wall from your neighbor. You knew you should stop screaming, that you should pull yourself together, but Changkyun and his devilish relentlessness wouldn’t let you.

“Fuck! I'm gonna cum! I’m! Gonna-”

Changkyun pulled away from your pussy with a pop. He licked his lips as he pushed himself up off the mattress.

You deflated against the pillows like a sad balloon. “I don’t like you.”

He shrugged, “For a minute there it sounded like you were incredibly fond of me.”

“Why? Why do you hate me?”

“You said I wouldn’t be able to make you cum.” he said innocently, “It would have been so embarrassing for me if I failed, so I thought it would be better to just quit while I was ahead.”

Grabbing the pillow from beneath your head you swung it into his face. He grabbed the pillow with a genuine laugh and tossed it back on the bed.

“You know I was right there. You know you were going to get me off.” you glared. “Asshole.”

Walking around to the side of the bed he grabbed your hips and tugged you ruffly until your legs were hanging off of the edge where he stepped between them. He leaned forward and sucked the skin of your chest between his lips, moving up until he was latched onto your neck. Your arms slid up his back until your hands were hooked over his shoulders, holding him close.

Finally he pulled back slightly and whispered, “Maybe I just wanted to feel you cum on my dick. Would that be so bad?”

“No.” you said breathlessly as the dark look in his eyes washed over your body like a wildfire.

A gulp traveled down your throat as he stood fully and removed his belt and unzipped his pants. “Flip over for me.”

“I want to see it.” you said curiously.

“Fine.” he smirked and placed his hands on his hips. “Go ahead.”

Without a second thought you sat up on the bed and reached to unbutton his pants. You dragged them down his hips just slightly, along with the black boxer briefs beneath. Then, teeth digging anxiously into your bottom lip you freed the massive bulge you’d enjoyed so much earlier in the car.

“Oh.”

It was what you could only describe as the holy grail of dicks. Smooth and long, with perfect and even coloration. It was pretty. The thickness of it made you both nervous and excited. It sat heavy in your palm and the tip glistened with precum. Leaning forward you pressed a sweet kiss against the head and then sat back to lick the taste of him from your lips.

“Will it do?” he asked

“Only one way to find out.” you turned around, and dug your knees into the mattress.

You could feel his hand move between your legs once more. He pressed three fingers inside of you, just to be sure you wouldn’t be stretched too uncomfortably. When he finally sunk into you, you lurched forward onto the bed.

“Is that okay?” It shocked you how thoughtful and caring he sounded.

You nodded and pressed back into him for assurance. “Don’t stop this time.”

“I won’t.” he promised, his hands wrapping around your hips as he continued on.

It was so slow and easy at first, you thought it would be nice if he could just keep doing it forever. A long satisfied moan escaped your lips. Once he knew you’d taken to his size he went harder, faster. Reaching forward he grabbed your hair tightly in his fist and pulled you back against his chest. It surprised you how sensitive your skin was against the silk of his shirt. Almost as sensitive as your pussy had gotten to his silk cock. The arm that wasn’t hanging onto your hair slipped around your body, his hand cupping your bouncing breast.

“Oh! Fuck me! Harder!” you begged as he slammed into you.

Your orgasm was close, coming faster than any of the ones before and only building bigger with every hard thrust.

“Oh, baby…” he panted against the top of your head, feeling you start to contract around him.

Then your eyes went wide, “NO! What are you doing? Don’t you dare.”

He’d pulled out and hadn’t pushed back in with the swiftness as he had before.

Changkyun only laughed. “Calm down. I just want to see that pretty little face you’re about to make when you cum all over my fat cock .”

You flipped over one more time and looked up at him skeptically. “I swear to God...”

He chuckled as he lifted your leg up around his waist and sunk back into you. “God doesn’t give a fuck if you cum. I do.”

There was something about being face to face. Having your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, his forehead pressed against yours, your tongue being gently sucked in between his lips. You were glad he’d made the switch. This was nice. And though he was still fully dressed it felt intimate.

“Oh..Changkyun...yes.” you cried out as your orgasm tore through you threefold. You’d never come so hard, you weren’t sure you could stop. The tightening of your walls milked out his own orgasm soon after. Your body shook almost violently as you came but so sweetly your voice flowed against his ear when you breathed out a simple, “Kyunnie…”

It wasn’t something he’d ever wanted anyone to know. If people found out it would make him appear soft and weak. However, as intentionally uncaring and cruel as he often came off, all he’d ever wanted was to be wanted. Really, truly wanted. Not wanted because he was attractive or rich or had a big dick. And it was impossible for him to know what you’d really wanted him for but it just felt different with you. It felt like more when you said his name like that, like you still wanted him even though he was done with you.

He knew when you said his name like that he’d fucked up. All he was trying to do was piss off Jooheon. It had been a joke. He didn’t plan to actually like you, he didn’t want to. He wanted to discard you like trash. Give you away to his brother as sloppy seconds and see how much he wanted you then.

“Stay here.” he said hurriedly. He pulled out of you and tucked himself into his pants before disappearing into your attached bathroom.

“Where would I go?” you muttered, before dropping back onto the mattress exhausted.

You closed your eyes and listened as he moved around your bathroom, trying to figure out what he was doing in there. You had figured he was just washing up but it was taking longer than you expected. When he finally returned you were nearly asleep.

“Not yet…” he said waking you up and then helping you off the bed. “Can’t let you go to bed looking like some teenage boys used sock.”

You snorted out a laugh and leaned your head against his shoulder. “You’re just so romantic I don’t know how to handle myself.”

In the bathroom you were genuinely stunned to see that he’d run a bath for you, complete with overflowing bubbles. He helped you step into the tub and eased you down into the warm water.

“Kyunnie…” he looked away from you and then gulped before looking back, “This is actually really sweet.”

“Well,” he grabbed a washcloth, dunking it into the water to use on your skin, “it can’t take all night. Minhyuk is still downstairs waiting for me.”

Lifting your hand you moved it over his neck and pulled him down for a kiss before muttering against his lips, “You can tell him to leave...stay the night with me.”

“I can’t.” he stood up from the tub and dropped the towel in the water. “I’m going to clean up out here. I’ll be back to get you out in a minute.”

He was panicking and he needed to get his composure back. It might be nice to stay the night with you. It might be what he wanted to do, but he wouldn’t. Not only was Minhyuk waiting to take him home, but Jooheon was waiting there for him. Jooheon. His brother. His only friend on earth. The only person who ever would and ever could understand him completely. The only person that would ever put up with his bullshit no matter what.

Jooheon. The one that he was certain was bound to you. At least if the mark on your forearm had anything to say about it.

So he took a deep breath, cleaned up the mess he’d made of your bed and went back to help you out of the tub like he said he would. He even dressed you and tucked you into the bed before getting his jacket off the chair. When he turned to say goodbye you were looking at him with big needy eyes and your lip between your teeth and he hated it.

“Will I see you again?” you asked.

He looked at you with one of his classically smug smirks that you’d seen over and over again all night and said, “I’m sure you will.”

#im changkyun scenario #lee jooheon scenario #im changkyun smut #monsta x scenarios #monsta x smut #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #I.M. scenario #I.M. smut

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Text

tree swing.

mingi x reader; enemies to lovers au

word count: 10k

angst, fluff, smut

age 7:

the first time you met mingi, you both ended up with bloody noses and you had only known each other for fifteen minutes. a moving van was backed into the driveway of your new home, boxes of furniture being transported while you snuck away from your duties and opened the white gate to the backyard.

it was beautiful and spacious, a lot bigger than your old backyard with a multitude of trees and flowers and shrubbery. one swing hung from a branch, just a small piece of wood being held up by rope and you eyed it warily before sucking it up and taking a seat.

you barely moved your feet as you sat there, observing the back of the house and noting one of the rooms had a balcony attached to it. while you swung lightly, you secretly hoped your parents would allow you to have that room. you loved the idea of being able to read out there during the day or watch the stars at night.

you hadn’t even wanted to move in the first place. you loved your old school and you loved your old house. you were a part of a group of best friends you’d known since you were five who had all recently decided to join a dance team together. you were so excited to start doing it with them, all of you practicing in the same light purple room you had grown up in since you were a baby.

but then your parents broke the news to you that you’d be moving in the middle of the summer and you don’t think you’ve ever cried so much in your life.

“it’s not fair!” you screamed at them through your tears and it hurt them to see you so sad. you begged and pleaded and cried some more even though you knew your efforts were a waste.

the clattering of your gate opening rips you from your memories, head snapping toward it as a tall boy, probably around your age, stomps toward you. his arms were folded and he had a sour expression on his face, planting himself right in front of you and staring down at you.

“uh hi…” you said, although it sounded a lot more like a question. “who are you?”

you didn’t like the look on his face. he looked grouchy and ready to beat you up.

“i live next-door,” he stated matter of factly, his tone bratty like you should’ve already known that information about him, “and who are you?”

you give him a suspicious look, unsure as to why he’s being so hostile to you and asking who you are in your own backyard. “i live here now,” you grumble, just as displeased as he appears to be about it.

he scoffs and rolls his eyes, almost as if you’d said the wrong thing, observing your face before the rest of your small body. “do you at least have a brother?” he spats and you look at him confused.

“what?”

“i said do you at least have a brother!” he repeats, voice raising and you feel your eyebrows shoot up to your forehead.

“why are you yelling at me, i don’t even know you, you weirdo.”

“because you made my best friend leave! this used to be his house and now you and your stupid family are here and he’s gone!”

you feel anger flood through your body at this dumb boy. he doesn’t know you or your family and you’re not stupid.

“we’re not stupid,” you spat right back, “if anything, you are for thinking i forced your friend out. maybe he left because he had to live next to you.

“no!” the boy says.

“i think so,” you say, forcing your head towards him to stick your tongue out. due to your movement and, as if you were being punished for your immaturity, the swing wobbles underneath you and a little screech leaves the back of your throat. you quickly grab onto the rope, knuckles white from your tight grasp and you hear mingi let out a snort in front of you.

“you’re such a baby,” he says, “what, are you scared of that swing? hongjoong’s dad put it up himself and he wasn’t scared.”

“i’m not scared, it just surprised me,” you spit back at him, silently cursing whoever hongjoong’s dad is for putting up such a scary and poorly built swing.

“yeah, right, you’re scared.”

“no i’m not! shut up!”

“oh yeah?” he teases back, “if you’re not scared, then why weren’t you swinging higher when i came back here?”

you squint your eyes at him, cold fear flooding through you because maybe this boy isn’t as dumb as he looks.

“because i didn’t feel like it,” you tell him, attitude in your voice even though you know your argument is weak.

a devilish look crosses the boy’s face, his lips turning from a scowl to a smile for the first time as he quickly walks behind you.

“what are you doi-“

you’re about to jump off, not trusting him back there before you feel him grip the wooden seat and pull it back.

“it’s okay, i can just push you since you’re so lazy!” he tells you, dropping the swing from his hold.

you start screeching in fear as you get flung into the air. the seat and ropes wobble slightly as he pushes you fastly, your body getting farther and farther away from the ground.

“stop it!”

“but why?” his teasing voice says from behind you, “you’re not scared, right?”

you can’t answer as another scream tears through you, your palms red and chafed from holding the ropes so tight.

“isn’t this fun!” he says gleefully, a laugh that sounds evil to your ears ringing through the yard.

“stop! i’m gonna fall!” you scream, the wood wobbling even more underneath your right butt check.

“no you’re not, you big baby!”

“yes i am, you idiot!”

the swing is too high for him to reach the seat, his hand now on your back as he continues to push you even higher. he’s still gleefully laughing, watching how high you are now and is genuinely not believing you’re in any danger at all. him and hongjoong used to do this all the time, swinging and pushing each other for hours and nothing bad had ever-

“ah, stop stop stop! im going to-“

and before he can even comprehend what’s going on, you fall off the swing.

or fly off rather.

because you soar what seems like 100 feet in the air (probably only really 5 or 6), screaming and on the verge of tears the entire time.

you knew this was gonna happen, you just knew it the second that big idiot started pushing you, so you braced yourself, attempting to position your legs so your feet could land on the ground; but the second they touch the floor, your ankles buckle and you tumble in the grass before you smack your face on the side of the gardening box.

you scream out in pain, holding your hand over you bloody nose as you cry because that really really hurt and you told him to stop pushing you.

you faintly hear footsteps running toward you before a hand pulls you on to your back. the boy is looking down at you in shock, his mouth gaping open and his eyes full of fear. probably fear that you’re gonna tell on him and not fear for your well-being.

“are you- that-oh my god,-i…that never happened before with hongjoong,” are the words that finally tumble out of his mouth and the anger burning in your chest and the need to scream at him outweighs the pounding pain in your face.

“i told you to stop!” you screeched, putting your hand on his chest to push him back onto his butt so you can sit up, “why wouldn’t you stop! i told you i was gonna fall off!”

“i didn’t think you were serious! me and hongjoong did it all the time and we never fell off.”

you shoot him a dirty look, glaring at him as you switch hands because your current one is covered in blood. he watches you warily, feeling queasy from the red liquid and wants more than anything to jump up and away from you. but he already knows he’s gonna be in so much trouble and leaving you would only make it worse.

“you’re so dumb,” you sneer at him, your voice nasally as you plug your nose, “it hurts so bad!”

“you’re just a baby,” he says defensively even though he knows how much that’s probably hurting right now. but instead, because there’s a burning anger in him at you calling him dumb again, he decides to say:

“maybe you should eat less or something. then you wouldn’t have broken the swing.”

and that’s when you really lose it and see red.

you rip your hand away from your face and tackle the boy, beating his chest and neck and arms with your tiny little fists and now it’s his turn to scream.

“get-get off me!”

you’re able to get a few good hits in before he uses his size against you and pushes you onto your back, both his hands holding your wrists down so you don’t smack him again. he sees the anger burning in your eyes and it scares him more than your lousy attempt at physically harming him.

“you’re crazy!”

“and you’re a bully!”

he peers down at you skeptically, looking at your bloody face and maybe feeling a twinge of regret and sympathy for you. because you really did go flying high. and you did tell him to stop.

“i didn’t think that would happen! i’m-“

before he can get his words out, because you really don’t care what they are, you lift your neck up and headbutt him. he makes a loud, pained groan when your head cracks against his and he falls onto his back. he feels liquid ooze out of his nose as you stand over him, your own blood now dripping down your lips and chin.

you’re about to spit some nasty comment at him about how does that feel when the four adults finally come rushing out from of backdoor, seeing mingi on the floor and you looming over him both of you with blood oozing out of your noses.

“y/n! what on earth happened!” your mom squeals, rushing over to check your face before helping mingi up.

“she’s crazy!” he screams, backing away from you as he rubs his nose with the sleeve of his shirt, “she headbutt me!”

“he started it!” you scream back, pointing at him, “he pushed me too high on the swing and i fell off!” you explain, both of you staring at one another with hatred and fury in your eyes. the four parents eyes move to the tree swing where the wood plank is hanging off from one side.

“mingi!”” you hear a woman scold, rushing over to him and smacking him on the side of the head, “i always told you and hongjoong that swing was dangerous!”

“she’s just a baby, mom! nothing ever happened when me and him did that!” the boy whines to his mom.

“until now!” you scream at him, the pain in your face causing you to get more and more agitated, “i told you to stop and you didn’t!”

“this wouldn’t have happened if you just didn’t move here in the first place!” he screams back and the two moms grab you both, separating you by a good few feet. they both scold you, telling you to apologize and stop screaming but neither of you are having it.

“i’m not saying sorry to that idiot!” you tell your mom as stomp your foot.

“no! she’s crazy and mean and i wish she never moved here!” mingi screams dramatically, giving you one more nasty look before running out of your backyard.

his parents apologize to you, insisting he’ll be over later to formally say sorry before they say goodbye to your parents and follow after their son.

your dad walks over with wipes and tissues and together, your parents clean your face as they ask you for the full story. and that’s when you cry and break down about how much you hate it here already. how badly you despise him and how much your face hurts because he’s so stupid and doesn’t know how to listen.

and so, out of an act of sympathy, after explaining to you that you can’t go around head-butting any more people, you parents give you the room with a balcony.

age 11:

the animosity between you and mingi was only something that grew worse over time. because not only did you have to see each other at home but you also had to see each other at school as well. and when his elusive friend hongjoong moved back to school last year, his obnoxious friend group rose to a whopping total of eight.

you hated each and every one of them but he was by far the worst. because if he wasn’t stealing your pencils or hiding your backpack, he was pulling your hair and spreading rumors that you still wet the bed.

(but of course, you weren’t entirely innocent either. because you did blurt out that he farted in front of the whole class when a foul smell came in from the hallway).

your teachers and friends and parents have long given up on trying to have you two make amends, simply keeping you separate at all times in the classroom or at conjoined sunday dinners.

but the lunchroom and playground is really when you two would go at it.

because whether it was with tag or kickball or basketball, you two were always at each other throats. and it was a considered a good, peaceful day if one of you didn’t steal something from each other’s lunch box.

today, however, wasn’t that kind of day.

because the second you unlatched your yellow lunchbox and took out your caprisun, a long lanky arm reached from behind you and snatched it right out of your hand.

“fruit punch today!” he said, punching your arm lightly as he said the word, “my favorite!”

he scurried away from you quickly, knowing you were gonna be behind him any minute chasing after him.

you let out an exasperated sigh, not in the mood to deal with him because you’ve been having so much pain in your stomach lately and he’s the last person you want to see; but regardless, you jump out of your seat and stomp after him because fruit punch is also your favorite.

“can you stop being annoying for once in your life,” you say from behind him, pushing him even though he doesn’t budge.

he turns around and looks down at you and it makes you angry because he will not stop growing. he’s always towered over you, using it to your advantage during every physical altercation between you two (so at least once a day) but now it’s just getting out of control.

“can you stop being annoying for once in your life,” he mimics back annoyingly, holding the pouch up over his head and giving you a smug look.

“a shame your body keeps growing even though your brain hasn’t started,” you snap at him before pinching the side of his stomach, “now give it back!”

“i don’t think so,” he says coyly, shaking his head from side to side, “that was mean of you.”

“it’s nothing but the truth,” you say to him while jumping up, attempting to reach for it.

his friends watch the encounter from their seats and giggle into one another before mingi throws the drink to an awaiting wooyoung from across the room.

“no!” you say to him, smacking his arm before scurrying over to the table. but as you approach wooyoung, he shoots you a big smile before throwing it back to mingi, making you the very pissed off monkey in the middle.

you stomp back over to mingi who throws it back to wooyoung and you kick him in the shin. he lets out an “ouch!” bending over to rub it and now he’s at your eye level. he sees that familiar fire in your eyes and smirks because it’s just too easy.

“what happened, y/n?” he asks, “you look angry at me.”

you squint your eyes at him, balling your fists and pretending to punch him in the cheek. he flinches and flails upward causing you to scoff at him and roll your eyes.

“always such a baby,” you say to him, the venom in your tone causing him to smile sweetly.

“i’m the baby when you’re fighting me for your juice box,” he says, shaking his head at you.

“because it’s mine!” you squeal and would absolutely have stomped your foot if you were 7 years old again, “and it’s fruit punch! so shut up and give it back to me!”

“wooyoung has it now, go get it from him.”

“he’s not gonna give it to me!”

“oh c’mon, just go ask like a big girl,” he says to you, a fake sweet tone as he strokes your hair with his hand.

“don’t touch me,” you snap, moving your head away from him and side-eyeing him before regretfully going over to wooyoung.

“wooyoung, can you just-“ you begin to say as you walk over to him but he shakes his head, the giant smile still on his face before he throws to mingi and you hear that stupid laugh.

you groan at wooyoung, balling both your fists at him as if you’re gonna punch him before spinning around to see mingi stick the yellow straw through the caprisun and sip it happily.

you put your hand to your head as stress and anger and annoyance and all the usual feelings you associate with mingi flare through your body.

it’s like he lives to harass and bully and pick on you.

you stomp past him, shoving him even though his body doesn’t budge again as you grumble “you’re so dumb,” at him and he just laughs, watching you sit defeatedly at your table.

“he’s such a big dumb idiot, i swear,” you rant to your friend sitting across from you.

“do you want my drink?” she offers kindly and you smile at her, shaking your head but thanking her.

“he really is so tall,” your other friend chimes in, “and like…kind of cute?”

your neck snaps up, your fast twisted in disgust. “are you blind!”

“oh, my gosh thank god you said something,” the friend across from you says, “i thought the same thing.”

“right!” she screeches back, “his face is cute too and he’s so-“

“are you two out of your minds!” you interrupt with a squeal, “you know and see what he puts me through everyday!”

“okay yeah but that’s just how you guys are,” your friend says offhandedly.

“exactly! just a mingi and y/n thing,” the other girl says as if she just said something as obvious as 2+2.

“oh, my god, i can’t believe you two right now,” you grumble as you open your sandwich, keeping it low because now you’re on edge that another thing will be stolen.

the two girls giggle, looking at each other knowingly before an empty caprisun is dropped on the table between all of you.

you turn around, cheeks full of bread and cheese and you roll your eyes as you see mingi’s retreating back, his neck twisting to throw a smirk at you.

“he’s the worst, don’t ever say those things again!” you whine after swallowing your food and your friends just innocently shrug causing you to scoff and finish eating as they laugh at your distress.

the lunch monitor blows her whistle 15 minutes later, indicating for everyone to throw out their garbage and head outside for recess. you and your friends scurry up and out, rushing to get one of the six kickballs that’s left outside on a first come first served basis.

you’re able to snag one up and you three run happily to the field, waiting for others to join you and your smile drops when you see mingi and his clan approaching.

“not you, again,” you whine but the boy just waves his fingers at you as the rest of the boys play rock paper scissors to decide who’s on the girl team.

it was a known thing that you and mingi couldnt’t be one the same team, an activity in gym class gone horribly wrong that traumatized a veteren teacher and set up an unspoken rule to eveyone to never allow you two to work together ever again.

“we’re due for a rematch,” he tells you, “no cheating this time, little one.”

your eyes squint at the nickname before some of the boys come over and you’re happy to see wooyoung is not one of them.

“we didn’t cheat you sore loser,” you snap at him and his head shakes as he rolls his eyes.

“whatever liar, let’s go!”

you’re surprised when the game is actually going well, a friendly competitive energy between all of you and you’re even more shocked to be finding the boys funny as they goofily run and yell at each other. san trips on his shoelace causing the sandy dust to get all over the pants jongho let him borrow; the boy nearly forfeits the game just so he can properly beat up his own teammate.

as you’re standing on first base, mingi only a few feet away desperately awaiting to get you out, you hear a gasp followed by a high-pitched voice from behind you.

you recognize it as a girl in your grade who’s notorious for being a real bully, mean and catty and obnoxious to her friends and even the teachers. you’ve never outright had a problem with her, you’re not even sure you’ve ever spoken a word to her so you don’t understand why she decided to publically announce:

“y/n, there’s blood on your pants, oh my god! y/n got her period!” she nearly screams, everyone around you guys stopping and turning to look at you. you quickly turn around so your back is away from her, arms folding behind you and covering your butt instinctively.

“what are you talking about?” you ask her because you don’t know why she would say that.

“there’s blood on your pants,” she says to you, amusement in her tone, “ew, i can’t believe you just got your period!”

you obviously knew what a period was, your whole class had just taken a health class in the beginning of the year to learn about periods and sex and puberty. but your teacher said most girls get it at age 12 or 13 and you’re stil only 11 so she must lying. and why is she saying ew anyway? it’s not like she won’t get hers either.

“i don’t think so!” you say, trying not to let your voice waver because either way, this is so embarrassing, “i slid on the floor before, it’s probably just dirt.”

you try to crane your neck back to check but you can’t see, feeling nervousness and anxiety flood through you. why would anyone do this to someone?

you feel a presence behind you and you turn your head again to see your friend staring at you with sympathy, kind eyes and a soft voice when she says quietly, “i-i think it is blood.”

you swallow the lump in your throat and mingi watches your eyes promptly fill with tears and the feeling that rips through him is something he’s never experienced before. you and his friends and his parents and his teachers have made him angry more times than he can count but this felt…different.

it was like this deep need to protect you and shield you away from everyone staring at you, some people looking on with sympathy or confusion while others were outright laughing and pointing. he doesn’t even realize he’s up in this girl’s face until he sees her wide eyes staring back at him in fear.

“what is wrong with you,” he says and he doesn’t recognize his own voice. it’s so low and quiet and almost…threatening. “get away now,” he growls and the girl just smirks, running her mouth so she doesn’t have to face the fact that she is kind of scared right now.

“why? i wanna see the show. this is funny”

“there’s no show and nothing’s funny,” mingi growls, inching forward again and this time his sole purpose is too intimidate her. he’d never really hit a girl to harm her but the evilness behind her actions kind of has him wishing he could. “i’m warning you, go,” he says through his teeth.

the terror in her eyes grows and she huffs out a “whatever” before turning and sauntering away.

he sees three other girls peeking over at you nosily and stares them down, harshly mumbling “get lost” before they too go off in another direction.

you see mingi making his way over and you’re too dazed and upset to see the anger in his eyes. you don’t know if you’re about to sprint away or cry or yell at him because you don’t need him making fun of you right now. you’re already humiliated and embarrassed and never wanna go to school again and-

mingi’s figure appears right in front of you and you swallow down the lump in your throat, cheeks red and eyes teary and you open your mouth to tell him to just go away when he starts to unzip his sweatshirt speedily. a confused expression covers your face as he takes it off and holds it in both hands before he wraps his arms around your waist. you fall stiff as he ties the sweatshirt arms together, securing it around you to successfully cover the stain.

you look up to meet his gaze and you’ve never seen his eyes look like this before, gentle and kind and soft and you don’t think you would know what to do or say even if you were in the right head space.

you sniffle and rub at a stupid tiny, stray tear running down your face and a tiny pout forms on his mouth when he notices it. he stares down at you for a few more seconds, something in his heart shifting and hurting for you and he hears a voice in his head screaming at him not to leave you.

you watch as his eyes roam over your face and you don’t know why you find yourself not being able to look away, the intensity of the moment something you’re both still too young to understand.

the quietest whisper of “it’s okay,” falls from his lips, looking from your eyes to your quivering lip back to your eyes until he abruptly turns and walks away.

you find yourself questioning if he even actually said anything now because his voice was so…soft and low. so different than his normal voice.

“bring her to the nurse,” mingi tells your friend before rallying up the boys to set up new teams for kickball.

you go to the nurse in a daze and she calls your mom to come pick you up. she buys you pizza and ice cream before bringing you home and you spend some time in your room, aimlessly watching tv and trying not to think about the sweatshirt that’s currently hanging on your desk chair.

you go over and run your hands over the soft fabric, your mind running back to how different mingi was and, despite yourself, you feel yourself smiling.

because maybe he isn’t too bad after all.

he’s not cute. no, not at all. you don’t think he’s cute.

but at least, you think, he could be kind of nice.

you knock on his door four hours later, sweatshirt in hand and a flush on your cheeks because you’re not sure if he’s gonna maybe say something now. make fun of you for bleeding through your pants or look at the sweatshirt in disgust or throw it in your face that you cried at school.

but he just simply opens the door and smiles a little when he sees you, taking the sweatshirt from you silently as you play with your hands nervously.

there’s a few seconds of awkward silenced until you blurt out, “tha-thank you,” and you wanna cringe when you hear yourself stutter, “you didn’t have to do that and it’s uh- i...i’m-“

“do you want an oreo?” he suddenly asks and you just notice now that he has three of them stacked on top of one another in his free hand.

you look at him skeptically, turning your head to the side and eyeing the cookies in his hands.

“uh okay…” you say because they do look pretty good.

“well, too bad,” he tells you before slamming the door in your face and you look at the yellow paint in shock.

it takes you a few seconds to register what he just did, your fist then banging on his door because you still see his figure lingering through the glass. “hey! you can’t just offer one and then not give me it!”

he cracks open the door, just enough for the upper half of his face to be visible and you see that usual playful, annoying glint back in his eyes.

“i can and i just did,” he says matter of factly, taking a bite of the cookie before slamming the door in your face again and this time, you see him walk off.

you huff and stomp down the stairs, taking back your thoughts from earlier that maybe he was becoming a nice boy.

age 16:

"this is all your fucking fault!" you whisper to mingi from your chair, staring at him with the dirtiest look you can muster.

"my fault? how is this my fault?" he says back through clenched teeth, "you're the idiot who doesn't know when to shut her mouth.”

"how can i when you always have some stupid shit to say-“

the door cracks open, your balding teacher eyeing you both through the conjoined doorway and you snap your mouth shut.

"hello, sir," mingi says and you can hear the sarcasm in his tone, "deciding to let me go so this one can rot in here where she belongs?”

the man just rolls his eyes, putting a finger to his lip before slamming the door shut.

you two are the only ones in detention on a disgustingly hot and sticky friday afternoon, a debate in history turned volatile causing you both to drop a ridiculous amount of f-bombs to one another and in turn earning you both this punishment.

the teacher next door is holding an extra help session for students while simultaneously covering the detention shift; you guys could probably leave, sneaking out and blaming weak bladders or a family emergency but you certainly don't wanna get caught.

because that would mean a weeks worth of dententions with each other and that’s not a risk either one of you are willing to take.

"if anyone's rotting away here, it's you," you sneer at him, rolling your eyes and leaning your head down on the desk.

"aw, are you tired little one?" he coos at you, tone sickeningly sweet as he gets up and makes his way over to you.

that obnoxious nickname has stuck since middle school and you wanna scream every time he uses it. everyone thought as you guys grew up that your rivalry would've fizzled out or even ended but it's almost as if it was enhanced.

it went from hair pulling and stealing your notebook to throwing you over his shoulder and poking your back or stomach when he sat near you in class.

it was worse when you were home though. because your once safe haven, the balcony with twinkle lights and purple furniture and a little pot of pink roses, was tarnished the second mingi's older brother moved out for college. the youngest song sibling snatched the room right up, now giving him more opportunities to disturb your reading or gardening time with his obnoxious singing and constant pestering.

"are you ever gonna stop calling me that?" you growl at him as he leans against the teachers desk right in front of you.

"now, why would i do that?" the boy asks, his arms leaning back on the wooden surface and you wish with everything in you that he wasn't growing up to be an attractive man. the way his body was arched back, broad shoulders on display, head turned to the side with a quizzical look in his shining brown eyes.

it was an honest to god shame he was so damn irritating.

"because it's annoying and-," you begin but he just rolls his eyes, cutting you off with a “sh” before walking up to the board and grabbing a piece of chalk. you watch him draw a game of hangman, putting 9 dashes underneath before turning to you with a smile.

"pick a letter.”

you cross your arms and roll your eyes, "really? are we in 4th grade again?”

"do you have no other ideas?" he snaps at you, "or do you just wanna sit here and sleep like a lazy bum?”

you resist the urge to growl under your breath before muttering “a.”

he draws the head of the stick figure.

“e."

_ _ _ _ _ e _ _ e

“i."

_ i _ _ _ e _ _ e

“o."

_ i _ _ _ e o _ e

you squint your eyes at him, shaking your head at the shitting eating grin on his face.

"c'mon, what else? how 'bout another vowel?”

"fuck off, i can pick whatever i want" you say, “t."

_ i t t _ e _ _ e

you jump up out of your chair, pushing him to the side with all your might and grabbing the eraser to wipe the chalk board clean. "you really are so fucking annoying," you snap at him.

mingi just smirks at you, watching you erase the letters and stick figure. you lift your arm to wipe the circle and other markings causing your shirt to lift, exposing a sliver of skin. his eyes travel down to it and he feels himself swallow when you jump to reach higher, your shirt raising even more as your hair bounces and cascades down your back.

he'd always found you cute, even when he was little and you headbutt him with blood and snot dripping down your face. but you were always so easy to rile up, so easy for him to get a reaction out of and it's something he's been trying to keep alive since then.

during the past couple of years, he’s found himself watching you when you weren't looking. how your body's matured, wide hips and toned thighs and thin waist from your time on the school's dance team.

your smile is his favorite though. it's rarely directed at him, your face almost always pinched into a pissed off scowl or annoyed sneer when he's around; but it's at the times when you do smile at him that leave him feeling giddy and nervous and fluttery, feelings he tries to shove into the back of his mind whenever they happen.

but now, with your shirt riding up and teeth in your lip as you concentrate, he can't help but watch you some more and is praying his stupid young male body doesn't react. but almost as if it’s out of his control, his feet start moving until he's pressed up right behind you, bending his head so his mouth is by your ear.

"you really are so fucking easy to rile up," he says, his tone a strange mix of playful and sultry; the boy doesn't even recognize his own voice.

your hand stops moving the second you feel him pressed up against you from behind, your breath catching in your throat and body stiffening. you swear you feel your knees wobble when he whispers in your ear, a reaction that truly feels beyond your control; he's just so big and warm and close to you, pressed up right against your back and you hate how immediate your reaction is. hate how much his voice and body are affecting you.

you're not sure what to do or say, feeling frozen against him but you know you have to snap out of this before he sees how bothered you are. dropping the eraser in your hand, you turn around so you're leaning against the chalk board. you look up at him and he's looking down at you, eyes with a playful glint but something...different in them as well.

something darker that you can't quite pinpoint.

"ever heard of personal space?" you quip, looking down at his body before meeting his eyes again and pushing him away slightly. you walk around him and sit on the edge of the teacher's desk, facing away from him and letting out a shaky breath.

"took you a while to find the words," he says from behind you and you can hear the smirk on his face.

"no," you snap immediately, craning your neck to side-eye him, "i just didn't expect your freakishly big body to be right up my ass.”

you hear his footsteps come near you until he's standing a few feet away from you and the look on his face is something you've never seen from him. something about it making you feel nervous but also a little...excited. and you hate that you're feeling this way.

because after years of the constant fighting and rivalry and back and forth, you can't allow your teenage hormones to get in the way right now.

but with how he's looking at you, the broadness of his shoulder, the way he's advancing toward you like he’s a predator and you're his pray really has your resolve slipping. and it's not like this is the first time you've felt this way but every other time, you were able to get away from him.

but right now, you're trapped. trapped in this room and under his gaze and in between his body.

"i think you're a little scared," he says, taking a few steps forward until he's standing right in between your legs. you feel yourself swallow, trying to stay calm but you don't know what the hell has made him so bold. maybe it’s the same thing that has you turning your head coyly to the side, your tongue peeking out to wet your bottom lip.

"of you?" you scoff, "that's funny. you’re forgetting that i know what a pussy you are.”

his eyes darken the second the words fall from your mouth and you feel your heart jump at the expression he makes. he moves his hand to your face, his thumb resting over your lips as if he's trying to silence you. he slowly drags his finger down to your bottom lip, flipping it down before it pops back into place as he continues it’s descend to your chin and neck.

of course, it's during that time that you swallow nervously and he can only smirk as he feels your neck twitch against his finger.

"is that so?" he asks and you divert eye contact, moving your neck slightly to look out the window because his hand on your hot skin is making you feel even more warm. he takes your jaw in his hold, snapping your head back to look at him and you've never seen his eyes so dark.

"answer me.”

your eyes widen and you wanna smack yourself when you feel something in your lower stomach tighten. you're trying so hard to remember that this is mingi, you're sworn enemy and obnoxious neighbor who gave your first bloody nose and stole your lunch on a regular basis.

but now as you stare at each other, you find your mind going blank. every rational thought is out of your head and your body just keeps...reacting.

"shut up," you say breathlessly, your eyes peering back at him and he sees the fire he's all too familiar with back.

"why are you always so feisty with me," he asks you, his hand squeezing your jaw lightly, “why can’t you just be good?”

"why do you always push my buttons." you growl back and you move your face in an attempt to get out of his hold.

but he just tightens his grip on it, moving even closer and bringing one arm down to rest his hand right on the edge of the table between your legs. it feels so close to you and the tightening in your stomach is back with a vengeance.

"because, little one, you make it so easy for me," he tells you honestly, lowly, and you attempt to move your face again.

he gives your jaw another squeeze, "stop moving," he says firmly, voice deep and authoritative and you feel something inside you burn.

you hate that you can't distinguish if it's with anger or desire.

you hate that you're thinking it's the latter.

and you're about to fight back, about to grit your teeth at him and tell him to stop telling you what to do. but then you think maybe that's what he wants. maybe he gets off on your backtalk and sneers and feistiness. so instead, you smile sweetly up at him.

"okay. sorry, mingi" you say softly, licking over you bottom lip again and you don't miss the way his eyes follow it. his eyes trail over your face and you smirk up at him when you see he's taken back.

"what...that's it?" he asks in disbelief, "no bratty comment? no yelling?”

you giggle softly, shaking your head at him and bringing your hand up to fix a piece of his messy dark hair. he watches you carefully, suspicious about your change of heart; his eyes then nearly bulge out of his head when you drag your nails through his hair, grazing his scalp lightly as you push your hands through it.

"no," you say softly, shaking your head, "why? do you like me being feisty? or would you like to see me when i'm on my best behavior?”

now he's the one swallowing, his dick twitching in his pants because he's never seen you like this. and a part of him knows this isn't you, that you're putting on an act for this very reaction but it's absolutely working.

"you better stop," he warns and the sweet look drops off your face, a smirk replacing it with the fire building back up behind your eyes.

"oh yeah? and why's that?" you ask, "only you're allowed to push buttons here?”

your hand is still behind his head, bunching up some of his hair as you slightly pull it. he harshly exhales through his nose and a little laugh bubbles out of your mouth.

you drag your hand back to the front of his hair, making a mess of it as you move your hand from his head to under his chin, scratching all the way down and over his adam's apple lightly. you watch in secret delight as it bobs when you make it all the way to the middle of his chest, moving his t-shirt slightly out of the way.

his breathing is now harsh and labored and you cant help but take pleasure in this.

"oh, mingi," you sigh, meeting his pained gaze and watching his chest take deep inhales and exhales, "you're making it so easy for me."

"y/n..." he says, voice choked and deep and you'd be absolutely lying if you said something didn't shoot right through your core upon hearing it.

you smirk as you look down, observing the way his bulge is prominent in his gray sweatpants. it should be making you feel anything but the intense desire coursing through your veins, spreading to all sorts of areas on your body.

"one might think you're looking like a pussy right about now, don't you think?" your voice then spats, "worked up from just some hair pulling and scratching.”

and before you barely get the last word out, you’re pushed back flat on the desk and it feels like the wind is knocked out of you even though you weren’t pushed that hard. his arms are on either side of you and he's peering down at you, eyes blazing with what you can only see now as pure lust and desire and a little bit of anger.

"oh yeah?" he snarls, bringing his one hand in between your legs again. he inches it closer and closer to your core and you feel all your power from earlier vanishing rapidly, “and what about you?”

"i...i don't know what you're talking about," you choke out and you both know it's a lie.

"oh no?" he hums and he brings his hand to your lower stomach, rubbing it along the waistband of your thin leggings and a choked, breathy sigh leaves your lips at the feeling shooting through you just a few inches lower.

"there it is," you hear him say and you wish you could say anything right now. wish you could curse at him or scream or hit him but you find yourself struggling not to buck your hips up towards his hand.

"do you know what i'd give to hear a moan from you, right now?" he says lowly in your ear as he watches you struggle to keep it together under his touch, “i wanna hear it so fucking badly, y/n, and i don’t know why.”

his confession alone almost leaves you fulfilling his wish.

"then make me," you tell him breathlessly, without thinking, solely in the interest of your own pleasure now.

his hand freezes on your waistband and you feel your cheeks flush when you realize what you just said. you can't believe the words that just left your mouth, admitting you're more than ready to let him have his way with you in a dirty hot classroom after hating him for years.

you open your mouth for an attempt at damage control before nearly screaming when his hand moves past the waistband of your leggings and right to the area that’s screaming to be relieved from the building pressure.

a straggled, low moan leaves his own mouth because your leggings are so thin that he can feel the wetness through your thong. he rubs his finger back and forth over you slowly, closing his eyes as his dick grows rock hard in his pants.

"fuck," you hear him whisper and your hips move ever so slightly on his hand at the way his deep voice sounds cursing.

"you drive me fucking crazy, y/n," he says harshly in your ear, "do you know that? you're driving me fucking crazy.”

"ugh, just shut up," you whine, not wanting to hear his dumb voice when his long fingers are so close to right where you desperately need them to be.

his hand automatically rips away from you and you nearly scream at him, head shooting up as your eyes burn into him.

"what are you doing?!" you say harshly to him, cheeks flushed, breathing labored and core throbbing as his hand comes up to your throat, pushing your head back down onto the desk.

"to answer your question from before, i’d prefer it when you're on your best behavior," he says as he looms over you and you squint your eyes at him in deviance.

"what, you want me to beg for you to rub my pussy when you started this in the first place?" you sneer at him now, sick and tired of his boldness and teasing, "maybe i'll go ask someone else in any manner i choose. i bet yunho would do it. have you seen his hands? he could definitely-“

his hand tightens around your neck and you let out a choked laugh, somehow knowing that would be the thing to get him worked up.

"watch your fucking mouth," he growls at you, immediately loosening his hold on your neck despite his dark eyes staring down at you.

you hate how much his sentence causes more wetness to pool in your lower half. you hate how much power he has over you right now. and you hate how much you love that this is currently the situation you’re in with him.

"then help me, mingi," you whine, not being able to take the throbbing anymore, "i...i need you but you're being so fucking annoying about it," you whine, taking his hand from your neck and putting it on your lower stomach.

you're about to swallow you pride and whine out a “please” until he sees the desperation and arousal in your eyes and feels something instinctual take over.

his hand dips into your leggings, moving down to rub over your thong and his cock strains hard against his pants when he feels how wet you are.

a tiny whine leaves the back of your throat as you try to move your hips toward his hand, your hand gripping the edge of the desk and he growls seeing you so submissive.

he drags his hand upward to the top of your underwear as he dips his hand in, his finger finally brushing over your wet clit and you muffle a moan with your hand.

"holyshit," you hear mingi mumble, his voice strained and deep, "baby, you're so wet.”

you're so focused on the way his finger is grazing your clit back and forth that you almost miss him call you baby but it makes your stomach flutter and another muffled moan leaves your mouth, your legs bending and widening and you’d feel a little disgusted with yourself if you weren’t so desperate for him and his long fingers.

he's taking his time with you, rubbing you slowly and hearing every muffled moan leave your mouth. he lowers his mouth to your ear, begging you in his strained deep voice to move your hand away from your mouth.

“i wanna hear your pretty moans, baby,” he tells you, “just keep ‘em quiet. can you do that for me?”

you think you’d do anything he asked of you right now so you nod and obediently remove your hand from your mouth, looking up at him with glossy eyes and your mouth falls open.

he hums in approval as he looks down at you, his lips meeting yours in a quick, sloppy kiss, his tongue slipping in and exploring your mouth before he pulls back slightly to mumble “good girl” against you; now you really need something inside you, about ready to explode or scream or cry or all of the above.

and almost as if he knows what your body needs, you feel his pinky finger slowly enter your wet hole. it��s so tight and wet and warm and he shuts his own eyes to try to control himself, especially when a quiet, breathy moan leaves your mouth.

“good girl, baby,” he says and his voice sounds so strained, even to his own ears, “stay quiet like i asked.”

your eyes pop open again to look up at him and and he loves that everytime you hear his voice, you open your eyes to look at him. his wet thumb brushes over you to gather wetness and he places it right back on your clit, moving it slowly but steadily and the feeling has your eyes rolling back shut.

“does that feel good?” he asks softly and you nod your head eagerly. but he slows his thumb down and your eyes pop open, desperate and pained and he smirks down at you.

“use your words, y/n. does that feel good?”

another strangled moan leaves your mouth as his finger plunges deeper inside you and you arch your back off the desk. “ye-yes mingi,” you say, “fuck. it’s so..so good,” your words are cut off when your mouth falls open in a silent moan, he thumb immediately rewarding you with faster strokes and you feel a tight knot starting to form in your lower stomach.

mingi’s doing his best to keep himself together, doing everything in his power to not whip his own cock out and do something, anything to you when he hears the chairs next door scuffling.

he looks down at you to see if you noticed but your head’s thrown back in pleasure, eyes closed shut and mouth slightly hanging open as you're laid out on the desk and he can't believe he isn't making a mess in his pants at this very moment.

he regretfully rips his hand out of your underwear and your eyes snap open at him, frustration and confusion and arousal swirling behind your eyes and he has to fight back the urge to apologize and stick his finger back in you.

"he's-he’s coming back in," his strained voice says and it's like you've finally come to your senses. you finally realize that you're in school, you're with your sworn enemy mingi and not only three seconds ago was his hand toying with you about to give you your first orgasm.

you sit up on the desk in shock, eyes falling to the huge bulge in his pants and you can't help the way your eyes are glued to it.

"what...what the- what are you gonna do about that," you squeal in disbelief.

"well you staring at it like that certainly isn't gonna help," he barks out, rushing over to a seat in the back row and throwing his arms over his lap, "sit the hell down."

you scurry to your seat and brush your hands through your knotty hair, taking deep breaths in and out in an effort to calm down your flushed face.

less than a minute later, the teacher comes in through the conjoined door again and eyes you two suspiciously before telling you you’re dismissed from detention and goes back into the other classroom. you and mingi both sigh a breath of relief, looking over at the boy who’s already staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“what?” you ask him and you don’t know what he’s thinking after what the hell just happened.

“what?” he counters and you shrug your shoulders.

“you’re the one looking at me,” you say defensively, grabbing your backpack from the floor and standing up, “are you ready to go or do you still need a second?” you say with a playful smirk.

he scoffs and stands up, still the smallest hint of a tent in his pants but nothing like how it was two minutes ago, “you’re unbelievable.”

you roll your eyes even though there’s a sinking feeling in your stomach because you don’t know how to proceed now. you were just begging for him to finger you on the desk three feet away from you, still kind of really tempted to lay back down and spread your legs for him, and now you’re supposed to go back to hating and fighting with each other?

“what’re you thinking?” he asks suddenly, watching as you stand there with thoughts racing in your head.

“what do you think?” you spat sarcastically and you’re unnerved by how calm he is about this.

“i think…that was probably a long time coming,” he says honestly and you look at him in disbelief.

“what, me begging you to get me off on a dirty school desk?” and the dry way you say it has him laughing, jumping over the desk to make his way over to you.

you step back because you don’t trust yourself to be so close to him right now and his eyebrow raises as you do so.

“yes,” he says simply and your mouth drops open, an outraged noise leaving your mouth.

“okay, yeah, and we won’t just talk about the giant remote that was bulging out of your pants.”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, a cocky smirk covering his face and you roll your eyes as you hear the mistake you made. you swing your backpack over you, stomping past him only to hear him follow after you quickly.

“wait…but did i just hear the word giant?”

he harasses you the whole way home and you couldn’t be more relieved when you finally get to your block, running down and into your house. you catch him last minute looking at you from his front porch, sarcastically waving at you and you roll your eyes before flipping him off and going into your house.

he walks into his own house with a stupid smile on his face, knowing he’s gonna be reliving that time in detention over and over and over again.

age 18:

you’re sitting on the (repaired) swing in your backyard with your boyfriend mingi behind you, pushing you lightly as you two laugh over the fact that it was, indeed, teenage hormones and puberty that made you both realize your constant fighting and bickering was actually repressed feelings and eventual sexual tension.

just four days after that time in detention did you two finish what you started, him sneaking up on your balcony and barging in the way he usual did. but instead of you kicking him out or forcing him to clean your room, he locked your door and buried his fingers and tongue between your legs.

and just like that, all of the obnoxious bickering ended. you still certainly argued and messed with each other but there was also a softness that was gained.

because instead of yelling at him that he was annoying, you were able to press up on your tippy toes and peck him on the cheek.

instead of him purposely hitting you on the way of the classroom, he could grab your hands and intertwine your fingers together.

“i knew this was gonna happen, you know,” the boy says from behind you and you shake your head, a small laugh falling from your lips.

“oh yeah? and when was that exactly? after you threw me off this swing, i presume?”

he rolls his eyes because you’re never gonna let him live that down. “okay, it’s not like i broke your arm,” he reasons with you, his hands tugging on the ropes to slow down your swinging “and you could’ve broken my nose with this strong head of yours.”

you bend it back to look at him upside down, squinting your eyes at him playfully. “i warned you to stop and you didn’t! you see how easily you just did that?”

he shakes his head to the side with a soft smile on his face, leaning down to peck your forehead before forcing neck upwards. “you’re gonna hurt yourself,” he says quietly and you find yourself stupidly smiling at his concern.

he walks around to stand in front of you, holding his hand and waiting until you grab it. he forces you upward, bringing you into his body as you crash into him sloppily.

“where are we going?” you ask as you look up at him.

“it’s getting dark and i’m hungry ,” he whines and you roll your eyes at your baby of a boyfriend.

“okay,” you say, standing on the tips of your toes to kiss him on the lips. it’s supposed to a peck but he leans down to deepen in, taking your cheeks in his hands and his tongue breaking through your mouth to glide against yours.

you pull back and shake your head, your finger going on his mouth to stop him before you both get too crazy. “so, what are you making us then?”

“wait, what? me? i was gonna say-“

“oh you’re picking us up food? great!” you squeal, “i’m gonna go upstairs to nap, surprise me with whatever you choose,” you tell him, reaching up to bop him on the nose before walking past him to run up the stairs.

“wait what! no i was gonna say-“

“i love you!” you shout to him across the yard, spinning around to blow him a kiss and smile sweetly. the words die in his throat as he sighs, returning your smile and sending you a heart before defeatedly taking out his phone to call in an order.

40 minutes later, you awake to a soft kisses peppering your cheek and you poke your eye open to see your boyfriend holding himself above you, a smile on his face as he finally sees your eyes pop open.

“hi, baby, i’m back,” he says quietly and you stretch your arms above your head, a tiny groan leaving your lips.

“i’m hungry,” you whine and he rolls his eyes because he was the one who originally wanted food and was then forced out to get it.

“got it, love,” he says to you softly, “outside on the table.”

you look to the side to see your balcony doors open, a cool breeze coming through your room as a pizza box and two drinks sit on your patio table. you swing your legs over the bed and stand to hug your boyfriend around the waist. you look up to smile gratefully at him, your chin resting on his chest as you do so. “thank you,” you say to him softly and he smiles down at you, pecking you on the top of the head.

“of course, lets go eat now, yeah?” he says and, like old times, scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder.

your happy squeals could be heard throughout the backyard and it’s a stark contrast to the pained ones this boy himself caused the first time you met him.

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #mingi #mingi fluff #mingi angst #mingi smut #mingi fic

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viostormcaller · 4 years

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Thinking about it, it kinda sucks just how little new horizons has.

Like... I love the game to pieces and maybe this is just bc im in a shitty mood (which i am) but like... god this is gonna be long and ranty and I'm sorry in advance that mobile tumblr doesnt have the read more feature

For starters, holidays are all scheduled on the company's terms, meaning in 7+ years or so there will be no more in-game holidays because by then they'll probably be thinking about/getting ready to release the next installment of the series on whatever console is out at the time and they won't want to update new horizons anymore. And adding onto this, you need the internet to download the updates. What happens to the players who don't have internet?? Can they just never experience the holidays like bunny day and toy day and turkey day? That takes a HUGE part of the fun of the series out right off the bat. Sometimes making everything rely on the internet is a bad idea. Idk if anyone can like tell me if having no internet means you can't take part in the holidays, but like... god if that's true thats really sad.

They recently took out the hybrid flower and big fish islands, which makes no sense whatsoever why they would do that to a game that has so little, but ok?? It's not like that feature was hindering the gameplay any

There's a lot of furniture but Not a Lot of Furniture, you get me? They took out EVERY set except the classic set (renamed "antique") that you can buy for an insanely high price, and the log and wooden block sets that you can craft, but other that that it's all unrelated items that aren't part of any set, aside from the cute set and diner and throwback sets which as far as I can remember are the only other sets you can buy in the game. No alpine, no ranch, no minimalist, no princess or gracie, no modern or sleek, none of that. And 90% of all the buy-only furniture in the game is just the color variants. You can't even customize them! And it's hard as fuck to find the color variants you want, much less for completing a furniture set

And speaking of which, your starting villagers don't get their default house interiors. Your first three + your two starters from the tutorial days have the same generic layouts. You NEVER see what their houses are supposed to look like, and even if you give them the wallpaper and flooring they're supposed to have (if you figure that out online somewhere), their house doesn't change (I tested this with Sherb and was kinda disappointed).

And stuff is so EXPENSIVE. I know it adds a challenge but my final loan was NEVER 1 mil+ bells in New Leaf. And you can't even expand the extra first floor rooms you get. I'm literally getting less for WAY more. The biggest rooms you get are the basement and upstairs rooms. The first floor rooms aside from the main room really don't have a lot of space and with the different furniture they DO offer, I don't have a lot of room to put things in. But it's not like I can even afford it anyway -- just a freaking air conditioner was 63,000 bells. In New Leaf it was 2500. That's a MASSIVE jump. And the kitchen items are so freaking expensive, as well.

And speaking of houses, for someone who was literally in the real estate industry in the last game, tom nook adds very few house exterior options. And the even more shitty thing is that a lot of the colors straight up don't match. They couldn't even add a plain white roof.

God and the fucking DIY recipes. I know I've said this before on my other tumblr but the RNG for this game is the worst I've ever fucking seen. There is no reason why, two months into the game, I can be given a recipe for a simple DIY bench, which EVERYONE LEARNS IN THE TUTORIAL. Who the fuck am I giving it to?! No one, because literally every player knows it already, and you can't gift diy recipes to villagers! And I keep getting repeats of recipes. My villagers give me fruit DIYs all the time, it's so rare for me to get any new ones. And two days in a row I've gotten the recipe for the deer head mount thing from the same villager. New recipes should 100% take the priority before repeats. This game is slow paced, sure, but that's just frustrating. It doesn't make me excited to learn more recipes, it makes me feel like I'm never gonna learn any new ones because I'll get the same fruit DIYs for a week straight.

And speaking of which, you can't put trees, bushes, or flowers in your storage, which to me makes literally no sense. I can fit a giant ass fountain in my storage but I can't put a flower plant? Really? And speaking of storage, for a game that added 300 whole slots for mail instead of the usual 10, I will never understand why they decided to halve the amount of items a player can order a day from the nook shopping, AND make it so that it takes a whole day to get there instead of making deliveries at 9 am and 5 pm like in New Leaf.

And the fact that they made it so hard to get non native fruit and flowers and shit??? Like they at LEAST added Lief so flowers aren't as much of an issue anymore, but you actually have to travel to other people's islands just to get all the fruits?? I know you have to do the same thing in New Leaf but the reason why this is an issue for me is because you have to pay for online access, meaning most of those nook miles for planting all the fruits are locked behind a paywall unless your villagers can gift them to you. And your mom, when you first start the game, has a chance of giving you the one fruit that's on the non-native fruit mystery island, meaning you'll only get ONE new fruit and not two separate ones (for example, my sis got pears from mom but her non native fruit islands have cherries i believe. I got pears from mom and my fruit islands also have pears. Doesnt help that that's the one fruit i hate lmao). They also took OUT a bunch of fruits, like mangoes, durians, lemons, bananas, lychees, persimmons...

And the fact that your nook miles rewards are ISLAND LOCKED. That is the WORST SHIT. Not everyone has the ability to play with others, bc no internet or no money for the subscription every month. Not everyone WANTS to play with others bc maybe they get social anxiety (like me, which is why i havent asked for things that are impossible for me to get even though i want them for my island or house), or maybe they simply just don't want to. But the fact that each island has their own color variants of the same goddamn rewards that CANNOT BE CHANGED makes me so upset. I do not want nor should I have to rely on others to get the items I want because my game doesn't have my preferred color variations. And it's not like I'm far enough in the game to have anything worth trading for said items, nor do I have the bells.

And Isabelle does next to fucking nothing and I'm really irked about how they made her character in this game. Yeah she's cute, but that's ALL she is. She became more ditzy than anything else. She doesn't let you know about visitors in the town or the plaza or if a bridge or incline was built bc of a completed donation goal. Like really useful info to know would be if Flick or CJ is in town or who is selling stuff in the plaza. Flavor text is nice but if that's all you say 24/7 it loses its charm. In New Leaf she was helpful and hardworking and super focused and on top of things. Idk why they changed that aspect of her. I know her role in New Horizons isn't as big as it was in New Leaf, but still.

And then there's glitches that STILL haven't been patched (as far as I know anyway), like the game-breaking villager corruption glitch (which you'd think nintendo would have made a priority but they're too busy removing other features it seems) or the house exterior glitch.

And it's bad enough that your game saves to your fucking system a la Fantasy Life. But even WORSE, no one can have separate islands on one console. It's not enough to own two copies of New Horizons. Each player has to own one copy of the game and a whole new Switch just so they can play on their own islands. Parents can't usually afford that (aka $360 for each kid give or take) so for a game marketed towards kids, I don't know why they thought that was a smart move (well, I DO know, and that's because money, but still). And to top it all off, cloud saves are not supported normally. If you lose your game or your switch and aren't subscribed to nintendo online, well, it looks like all your progress is gone! And there's nothing you can do about it. And they directly claimed that they did this just so people can't manipulate the game because it's supposed to be played in real time. But people can still fucking time travel by setting the system's clock! They achieved nothing except to make the players frustrated!!! If you make a game you need to accept that the player is going to play how THEY want to. You shouldn't try to make everyone conform to the way YOU want them to play. That just makes you a controlling asshole and the game loses a lot of its fun.

This game was 60 bucks and they took so long to make it and we ended up with less than we got in New Leaf. The main thing they gave us was a shit ton more clothing items (which I really like). Like I said, I love this game to pieces and it's actually one of my favorite games right now. There's so much I love about it -- I certainly don't hate it or anything. But this game has SO MANY flaws, a lot of which are needless. And I think the kid in me just misses the days where you can pay for a game and get the whole game right away. No updates in tiny batches, no content locked behind paywalls, no day one patches, no reliance on internet connection and multiplayer... mainstream companies have all gone really downhill with that shit and it just disappoints me to no end. But because Nintendo is kid-oriented, I think that's where it hurts the most. It was supposed to be accessible, family friendly fun like back during the days of the Wii and the DS. But companies get so wrapped up in competing with each other and trying to make the most money that they forget about all that. I dunno. It just sucks.

If you read all this, god damn I'm surprised XD I got super ranty and I apologize. But I'm in a sad mood and I after learning about features they've taken out I just had to get all this off my chest. It's been weighing on me since the game released, especially since for months prior this game was all I could think about and I was really looking forward to it. It just let me down in a lot of ways, I guess.

#long post #rant #animal crossing new horizons #acnh #vio stormcaller

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ahh-fxck · 4 years

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Gay Bar AU: Warrior’s Blues part 4

Hello folks! Here is the next part of my gay bar AU, featuring Geralt and Jaskier.

Big thanks to @stressedspidergirlsfandomblog for being such an amazing beta!

Tag list: @astouract @smolpoe @yes-im-the-violin-girl @ladyknight-keladry

The link to the rest on Ao3 is here.

“Geralt?” A muffled voice calls from outside of the door. Geralt recognizes Jaskier’s voice instantly; Would recognize it anywhere, even though he’s only known him for a night. A flush creeps across his whole body as he dithers, damp towel clutched tightly. “Geralt? Is everything all right?” Jaskier calls again, sounding worried. “Just, it’s two o’ clock in the afternoon… I thought you might be hungry. May I come in?”

Geralt turns to look at the door, seeing the lanky shadow of the handsome man through the shade. He rasps, “I’m fine.” The words seem to unstick him. He strides across to the bed in a swift, efficient movement, drops the towel, and calls gruffly, “I’ll be right there.” He tucks the rest of the items back into his bag in a neat roll, followed by the discharge papers. His injured hand flashes with bright hot pain as he stuffs the papers into his bag, and he growls under his breath. Then he rises and quickly opens the attic door for the man waiting patiently outside.

He is greeted by a charming, crooked smile as Jaskier greets him over a little tray holding two coffees and a couple of open faced bagel sandwiches. There’s sugar, even cream, each in little bowls that bear a buttercup motif. Jaskier himself is dressed in a loose yellow tank top and denim shorts, though these are significantly longer than yesterday, hanging down to just above his knees. His face is lightly stubbled; he hasn’t bothered to shave yet today. Seeing this, Geralt isn’t sure whether to be irked or charmed by how informally the man comports himself.

“There you are,” Jaskier sighs happily, tilting his head and fixing Geralt with a wide smile. “Breakfast?” As Geralt steps stiffly aside to let him in, he nudges past him and into the loft, humming, “Well, I suppose it’s more like lunch, but never mind that. How are you today?” Bending over, he places the tray on the little table, then straightens and glances over his shoulder at Geralt.

Above Jaskier’s house was a small attic studio. It was painted a mellow sky blue inside, with white moulding, furniture, and decorations. It consisted of one room divided into two parts. First, there was a sitting area on a white tiled floor, with wicker chairs and a wicker table with a clear glass top. On a shelf below a windowsill there was an electric kettle and a box of rather rumpled looking tea sachets in their paper envelopes. Mugs were visible on the lower tier, stored neatly upside-down. Behind a half-wall, there was a sleeping area with a twin-size bed and two small dressers emblazoned on the sides with painted cornflowers. By the dusty, empty smell, no one had been up here in some time. There was a bathroom in the corner, with a full sized bathtub and a little sink above which a white mirror hung with makeup lights sat. There was only one entry, a simple white door that led to a steep staircase wrapping around the outside of the blue house and terminating in the driveway.

The light in the room turns to grey, dim fingers of it penetrating through the windows to caress the simple wicker decorations on the low half-wall separating the sleeping area from the main room. In the bed, Geralt breathes deeply, head lolling awkwardly where it rests halfway on his pillow, his injured hand resting on his chest.

By the time he had arrived here last night, he had barely been able to hear Jaskier explain the little apartment over the roar of exhaustion in his ears. He had fallen into bed, fully dressed save for his boots, and had moved only once during the night to pull the creamy blue and white duvet over himself when the temperature had finally dropped. He had barely even managed to get his head on the pillow.

Now the temperature creeps back up again as the dawn light warms, turning a rich buttery color as the sun comes up over the horizon. Geralt’s eyes flicker open, habit and light conspiring to rouse him from slumber. He glances around, disoriented, then closes his eyes again quickly. The blue and white room is frighteningly unfamiliar, friendly colors and new smells crushing up against him as he begins to wake. It stirs half-remembered guilt and shame, burning feelings that he would much rather escape. Dimly realizing that he is no longer on a schedule and doesn’t have to wake, Geralt heaves a heavy sigh. Rolling over, he puts his arm over his head and curls softly under the covers. His arm blocks out the light and he retreats into the warm hollow that his body has made in the blankets. With a yawn, he drifts back to sleep.

This process repeats several times, until the room is bright and hot and Geralt’s bladder is achingly full. Each time the guilt and the shame press harder, a growing static that gnaws at him even in his sleep. Finally he is forced to open his eyes. As he lays there with his arm over his face, squinting out at the hot light of the attic, he hears a stereo turn on below him. It’s muffled, too quiet to pick out the words, but the beat is happy and strong. His heart speeds up and stutters as he tries to parse the addition of the music to his already overwhelmed senses, and his lips pull back to show his teeth as he growls in irritation. Sudden tension races along his arms, whipcord strong and hot as lightning. His hand lashes out, bandaged knuckles slamming into the wall before he can think. The world vanishes for a moment in a brief, hot flash of pain that whites his vision out.

The wall reverberates, and below, quiet footsteps pause. A moment later the stereo volume lowers, and the rhythmic sounds of daily living resume. Geralt shakes his head to try and clear the cottony feeling away, tries to shake off the stars exploding behind his eyes from the pain in his hand. Rolling, he staggers out of bed and cradles it to his chest as he limps towards the door he faintly remembers Jaskier indicating as the bathroom.

The little room is clean and quiet, with very little to say for itself aside from an empty towel ring and a plastic basket full of half-used toiletries sitting on a back shelf. As he passes the mirror he spots his stubbly reflection out of the corner of his eye and remembers that he needs to shave.

After relieving himself he retreats to his backpack. Squatting down, he eyes the khaki sack critically, bracing himself to confront the contents within. His mouth tastes like ashes as he reaches out and tugs open the zipper. The discharge papers tumble out, pages upon pages of his career on trial sifting to the carpet like dead leaves. Pages of reminders of what he has lost. He can feel his face go numb first, then his tongue, a wave travelling outwards until it robs even his feet of sensation.

His eyes go blank as he paws automatically through the rest of the sack, retrieving his last pair of clean fatigues, his socks, underwear, straight razor, and soap. He sets these aside jerkily on one of the dressers, then turns and kneels, gathering the papers back into the folder. His movements are sloppy and disjointed as he fumbles the papers together, scanning them without reading them, placing them back in order on autopilot. Then he shoves the folder under the bed, right next to the sack, and straightens. Below him there is still the faint sound of music, and someone’s voice, presumably Jaskier’s, breaks out into a muffled song. In a fog, he grabs his things off of the dresser and heads for the shower.

After he is clean he gets out, dressing himself. The music has stopped by now, and the bathroom has descended into dripping silence. The soggy bandage is still on his hand, but he’s not ready to confront it yet. Instead, he takes his dirty shirt to the mirror, scrubbing some of the steam away. He eyes his reflection critically, then the makeup bulbs, giving them a puzzled grimace. Turning, he retrieves his shaving implements from the shelf next to the plastic basket, coming back to the mirror only reluctantly. The last of the fog from his shower is beginning to clear, and he eyes his reflection uneasily.

His white hair is shaved short, too short to be mussed by sleep and showering. He has a handsome face. It is pale, with high cheekbones, a square jaw, and lips that have a surprisingly lovely cupid’s bow. Under his wide amber eyes there are shadows though, dark and hollow. The lines of care in his face are graven deeper than usual, darkened by stress and tight with pain. His heart aches as he tries to meet his own gaze, finds that his stomach churns when he tries. Worse, his face is littered with white stubble, making him look grizzled and unkempt. Untrustworthy looking, he decides; undesirable. Still, he realizes as he gingerly flexes his injured hand, there is no way he can safely shave with his straight razor. With a disgruntled sigh, he tosses the shirt back onto the toilet and begins to clean up after himself.

By the time he is done, there is a tentative knocking on the outside door. Feeling his whole body contract with sudden tension, he stops dead in his tracks halfway out of the bathroom. The rest of the little loft is suffused with light and warmth, a peaceful heat that sinks deep into his bones. He stares about the little room, searching for answers as he tries to figure out how to react.

Geralt is still standing in the doorway, studying the other man with quiet intensity. While he’s been around civilians before, he’s never seen one quite like Jaskier up close, never seen a man so perfectly comfortable in his softness. It makes him want to bark at the man to fuck off, it makes him want to run away… it makes him want to sit and eat and never stop looking at him, ever again. He clears his throat as he feels Jaskier’s gaze upon him, closing the door with a little soft ‘thump’ that he half-feels, half-hears.

Jaskier turns and sits himself down in one of the wicker chairs, gesturing an invitation at the other one. Giving the chair a long stare, Geralt weighs his options. He is right next to the door; all he has to do is turn and walk away. It’s not like he needs anything in his backpack, not really. Even the documentation proving his identity is practically worthless now, and what isn’t, he can eventually replace.

As if sensing Geralt’s thought process, Jaskier carefully picks up his coffee cup and leans back in the chair, fixing him with a gentle but frank look. “Breakfast makes vanishing into the wild blue yonder a little easier, Geralt. At least have a bite before you go?”

Geralt fixes the younger man with a look of guarded astonishment. His injured hand twitches on the doorknob, then slides down to rest at his side. It gives a dull throb, but he crams the pain down, ignoring it with practiced skill. Rumbling doubtfully, he rocks back and forth once on his sock feet before tentatively advancing towards the empty chair. His ears burn as he realizes that he is so disoriented that he was genuinely about to run out the door without his shoes, and subsides into the chair across from Jaskier with a sheepish grimace.

“There, now,” Jaskier says, pleased, and pushes the coffee towards Geralt. Geralt takes it gratefully, humming with pleasure as he picks the warm cup up gingerly in his left hand. He leans his elbows on his thighs and blows on it, feeling the pleasure of the warm steam and rich scent playing across his lips. Unlike the coffee available on base, this smells lively and rich. He takes a tentative sip and raises his eyebrows, impressed. Jaskier beams and pushes the sandwich towards him, too.

Geralt tentatively tugs the sandwich towards himself with his bandaged hand, cradling the coffee mug in the other. Jaskier’s eyes flicker as he grimaces in pain, his gaze dropping to the soggy bandage that Geralt is still wearing.

A little furrow appears between his brows, but instead of addressing the pain Geralt is obviously in, he says, “Normally at this time of day today I’m off at work, but luckily for us, I have the day off.” He fixes Geralt with a sunny smile, picking up his bagel and taking a bite out of it. “Which means I’m at your disposal for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Day job?” Geralt inquires, his voice thick and a little hoarse. He grimaces again and takes a swig of coffee to clear his throat.

Jaskier nods pleasantly, chewing. He watches Geralt’s sore hand out of the corner of his eye thoughtfully as he continues, “Mmhm! I’m an adjunct professor at the college a few blocks from here, get to ride my bike to work on nice days. It’s summer so it’s only office hours and faculty meetings once a week right now, but in fall it picks up.”

Geralt tilts his head to the side, considering this information, trying to conceal his surprise. “What do you teach?” he asks, after a moment, then picks up his bagel and takes a bite. There’s ham on it, lettuce, tomato, cheese, even a fried egg. The mayonnaise has hints of garlic and rosemary, sharp and delicious. Probably not store made, then. Impressed despite himself, he eyes the sandwich, then Jaskier.

“Medieval music theory!” Jaskier proclaims, eyes twinkling. “Terribly arcane, I’m afraid, but I simply fell in love with it as a young man, and now here I am.” He sips his coffee and licks a drop of it off of his lower lip reflectively. “At least it helps pay the bills. Worse things could be said for a passion.” Shrugging, he sets the cup back down and takes another bite of his sandwich. “Do you have any plans for the day?” Despite himself, he finds his eye straying back to Geralt’s bad hand, watching with concern as the other man painfully cradles his bagel.

“No.” Geralt replies shortly, taking another bite of his sandwich. Now that he’s started eating, he can finally feel how hungry he is, and he makes short work of the food.

Jaskier watches in fascination as the bagel vanishes in only three or four big bites. Geralt finishes by unceremoniously draining his coffee cup. Jaskier searches for something to say, settling on, “Well then. Let’s at least take another look at that hand of yours, darling. I have a first aid kit downstairs.” He puts his half-eaten sandwich back on the tray, along with his empty coffee mug, and stands. “I’ll meet you down there. Do you remember where the front door is?”

“Yes,” Geralt says, who doesn’t remember anything of the sort. He was far too tired to remember what his name was last night, much less the exact location of the front door of the house. He figures it won’t be hard to find, though, and he is desperate for an excuse to be alone for just another moment while he tries to collect himself. Jaskier nods and heads for the door, beginning to fumble with the tray in an attempt to get the doorknob. Standing hurriedly, he steps around him and pulls the door open. It puts him face to face with the smaller man, and when Jaskier turns another thousand-watt smile on him, he feels like the floor has dropped out from under him, leaving him in free-fall.

Jaskier studies Geralt’s face for a moment, kind blue eyes tracing the contours of his scarred cheeks and square jaw. He lingers briefly on his lips, chapped and cracked from dehydration and stress. A quick sad expression flits across his face, and he turns away. “All right then, I’ll see you in a moment Geralt.” As he turns and exits, the tension humming between them snaps and dissipates, leaving the air of the attic feeling oddly empty in its wake.

Geralt closes the door behind him as he leaves, slow and soft, like he half doesn’t want to shut it. He steps back from the door bewildered, feeling his hand pulse and ache with the sudden pounding of his heart. Reluctantly, he glances down at it. The bandage is beginning to dry again, a stiff, disgusting brown from where the blood has soaked into the gauze. His hand itself is swollen and red, far worse than it was yesterday. Running his eyes across it, his lips pull back in a grimace as he notes the mangled skin peeking out from the place where the bandage has come loose. He would take care of it himself, Jaskier be damned, except that he doesn’t have any medical supplies. Deep down, he knows that an infection isn’t worth his pride.

After a further moment of delay, he returns to the bedside and sits next to his wet towel, staring at his tan leather boots. They are worn but well-cared for, stained, a little thin around the heels on the inside. He ponders how to get them on, as his hand is becoming stiffer by the moment. The pain is growing from a distant misty throb to a full blown, gnawing ache, which makes it difficult to think properly. Gritting his teeth, he decides to just grab them in his good hand and shove them on. The laces he pulls carefully tight. He fumbles with them for a long moment, trying to tie them, but his injured hand is so stiff that he can’t manage proper knots. Grumbling with frustration, he shoves the laces into the top of his boots and stands.

He looks around for the keys to the attic, spotting them on top of one of the dressers where he tossed them the night before. Those go into his pocket before he heads for the door. But, as he reaches it, he stops. His heart constricts in his chest as he hovers there, feeling the weight of his vulnerability pressing down on him. The idea of going into yet another new setting, of sitting across from that unbelievably kind man and letting him touch his hurting hand, is too much to handle. He feels like the oxygen is going out of the room as he stands there with his fingers on the doorknob, unable to move forward, unable to retreat. The room fades into a blurry blue and white impression as he begins to pant, lips numbly tingling. He steps back from the door instinctively, staggering to one of the wicker chairs and sinking into it.

Time swims as he hunches in the chair, awkwardly pulling his hand in close to his chest and huffing short breaths. Shame sweeps up his body, his posture collapsing as he tries to fight his way out of the panic. When he was young this never happened to him, but recently it had been coming on more and more frequently. He begins quietly, subtly rocking in the chair, pressing his face into his arm. The warmth of it is grounding, the smell of his skin bringing him slowly back into himself. In the end, he stills, leaning back into the chair with a heavy sigh as the tension in his body begins to run out. A fuzzy haze settles over him, and he closes his eyes as the numbness sweeps up and blankets him in darkness.

He becomes dimly aware of footsteps on the stairs some time later. Stirring, he sits slowly up in the chair, gold eyes focusing on the door as the footsteps come closer. The tall shadow of Jaskier shows through the curtains again, and he hears a gentle knock. “Geralt? Is everything ok?”

It is not ok, but Geralt doesn’t know how to say that, so instead he calls thickly, “M’fine. Got distracted.” Outside, Jaskier is silent for a moment. Then he says, “I brought my first aid kit upstairs. Would you mind terribly if I came in and looked at your hand?”

Geralt sits stiffly, hand cradled along his collarbone, feeling uneasy and a little trapped. Even his closest friends had rarely treated him with such persistent kindness; had rarely needed to. He was not a person who made himself vulnerable easily, and had gone to great lengths to keep his distance from anyone who might see him that way. On one level, he knew that accepting the man’s kindness was fine. Sensible, even. On the other, all he wanted to do was run until he found someplace dark and quiet to hide and never emerge from, ever again.

Outside, Jaskier sighs. “Geralt, are you sure you’re okay?” His voice carries a little worried note in it this time that makes Geralt flinch.

Geralt is tempted to lie again. It comes right to his lips, but stutters and stops before he can speak it as he watches the little movements of the man outside. Feeling oddly light, he stands to walk across the room and opens the door. He steps aside and looks down into Jaskier’s uncertain face, his own expression unreadable, then gestures shortly for him to enter.

Jaskier does so without argument, ducking inside before the ex-soldier has a chance to close the door on him again. He places the first aid kit on the little glass table and sits, making himself smaller immediately, and Geralt feels himself relax. Seated, the man looks softer, less demanding. He notices that his face is cleaner, too, all the stubble shaved away. Geralt’s bright gaze rakes over him sitting in the wicker chair, taking in the gentleness of his posture, the frank kindness that he regards him with. Stomach still churning uneasily, Geralt notices that he is nevertheless warmed by the gaze fixed on him. He feels his own face soften from a glare into an expression of uncertainty, eyes flicking between Jaskier and the empty chair.

Jaskier makes no movement whatsoever, his body language quiet and gentle as he continues to watch Geralt in the doorway. He can feel the man’s hot golden gaze searing across him, feels the weight of his attention as he considers what to do. He is hummingly aware of how dangerous the tall man looks, his toned body alert beneath his fatigues. Despite that, he finds that he is unafraid. He slowly leans back, sweeping his hand towards the first aid kit.

“I won’t touch you if you don’t want help. I just thought you might need this.” He feels his heart constrict a little in his chest as the man obviously relaxes, uncertain expression easing. All he wants to do is stand and push the man into the chair, to lavish him with gentle affection, but he gets the sense that this could cause the man to shut down or worse, lash out. So he holds still, exquisitely still, allowing Geralt to come to his own conclusions.

Geralt relaxes as Jaskier leans back, offering him the first aid kit. He feels by turns ashamed and relieved, his throat tight and his cheeks burning. Flexing his good hand slowly, he pushes at the numbness that is trapping him, urging it to abate. Feeling begins to return to the tip of his tongue, his lips, slowly spreading until he finds himself able to move freely again. Clearing his throat, he walks to the empty wicker chair and sits without further comment. Rummaging through the first aid supplies, he pulls out what he needs in silence.

Jaskier watches as the man bends to the task of caring for his hand. When he peels the bandage off, he leans over to the side and grabs a small wastebasket from near the tea shelf. He extends the basket to Geralt, and Geralt flicks his gaze briefly to him, nodding an acknowledgement as he tosses the bandage into the bin. Then he begins to methodically clean his wounds, face tight and wooden as he wipes them clean with cotton balls soaked in soothing antiseptic.

Jaskier inspects the wounded hand from a distance as he does so, finally able to get a clear look at it for the first time since yesterday afternoon. The skin is raw and ugly around the knuckles, pitted from the impacts with the tree. His fingers are curled thickly inward, held in place by the swelling that makes his whole hand look angry and bruised. There is a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Jaskier realizes that these are no mere abrasions that he’s looking at. Not anymore, at least; unless he’s missed his guess, Geralt’s hand looks broken.

Silence stretches as Geralt cleans, wraps, and tapes his hand. Then, he looks up and flicks his eyes to Jaskier’s for just a moment before cutting off to the side. “I need a hospital for this,” he rumbles, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

Jaskier’s thinned lips pull into a grimace of dismay and he nods, unsurprised. “There’s a hospital not far away from here. I can drive you.”

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thebluenebula · 4 years

Text

Masterlist

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4 (Part 1)

A New Bat: Day 4

(Part 2)

Honestly I didn't want to move but I did. We walked out of the range just in time to see Jay speed out of the cave, then we took a staircase back up and popped out from behind a bookshelf in a library. Dick was lying on a nearby chair talking to Babs. "Hey."

"Hey." Kate and I said in unison.

"What we're you two up to in the cave?" Dick asked, clearly suspicious.

"I don't think that any of your business Dick." Babs commented.

"I agree with Babs." Kate smirked.

Dick looked to me. "So, what do you think of the Bat-cave?"

"Its cool." I quickly replied. "Odd though."

"The Bat-cave is very odd." Babs agreed.

Dick's phone beeped and he looked at it. "Dinners ready."

"What is it?" Kate asked.

"Let's find out." He stood up.

As Kate and Babs headed for the door I whispered to Dick. "Would it be okay if I eat in my room?"

He smiled at me. "Of course. You don't have to ask, just grab a plate and head up."

"Thanks." I followed Dick out of the library.

We walked into the kitchen and saw Alfred preping plates of food. "Hello Alfred." Dick greeted him.

"Hello, I'm just finishing preparing the meals."

"Ashleigh's just gonna grab a plate and head to her room." Dick said.

"Of course, Master Dick."

Kate handed me over a plate. "Or you could come with me, if you want. I'm heading out to the gazebo. I've been cooped up in the cave all day I could use some fresh air."

"Yeah sure." I quickly agreed.

Dick looked at me. "I'll talk you later."

"See you later." Babs said.

I nodded at him. Kate grabbed her plate and put her hand on my shoulder and we headed towards the door. Kate stopped. "Oh Alfred, Jays gone out. I don't think he'll back anytime soon."

"Thank you, Miss Kate. I will leave his wrap in the fridge for him."

"Speaking of," Dick said. "Shouldn't B be home soon."

"He said he would be Master Dick." Alfred replied as Kate and I walked out.

We walked through the garden. It was beautiful. Everything neatly taken care of. We sat down inside a white painted gazebo, the sun shined in on us. Behind the gazebo was a large brick wall, largely covered in brightly coloured graffiti art.

"The sun's nice to see." Kate commented.

"Oh yeah." I looked up at the sky, quickly looking back down when the sun caught my gaze. "We never did see too much of it on Ireland."

"Is it a rainy as they say?"

"Oh yeah, but the rain can be nice." I shrugged. "At least I think so anyway."

"Then don't worry." Kate laughed. "It rains plenty in Gotham."

Kate took a bite of her food. A wrap. I looked at my own plate. A chicken wrap. Plenty on it. I took a bite. Gorgeous, same as all Alfred's meals it would seem.

"Do you need to go clothes shopping?"

"Hmm." Without thinking, I tried to talk but my mouth full of food. Kate giggled at my failed attempt to speak. I swallowed the food before trying to speak again. "What?"

"You said you only had a few skirts. If you need to go clothes shopping I can bring you." She gestured to herself. "I'm no style guru, that's Steph and Dick's department, but I like to think im not the worst."

"I like your style."

"Thank you. So how about it then? Clothes shopping?"

"I'd love to but I think Bruce is bringing me furniture shopping over the weekend."

"I could tag along and we dip into a clothes shop."

"I really don't have a whole pile of money." I said honestly.

Kate pointed to the giant manor. "You are literally Bruce Wayne's child."

"Adopted, and I can't just ask him for money."

"Yes. You can." Kate emphasised each of the words. "He'd be more than happy to give you money for clothes shopping."

"I don't know. It just seems wrong. I mean I've only been here less than a week. It'd be rude."

Kate sighed. "Even if he wasn't okay with it, which he is absolutely is, by the way," Kate took out her wallet and put a couple of bills on the table. "I am."

I looked at the money. Five one hundred dollar bills. "I can't-"

"Take it." She insisted and slid it closer.

I hesitantly took the money and put it in my pocket. "Never hesitate to ask me or Bruce for money." Kate insisted. "Even it's for something simple like fast food or a video game. We're happy to give you some."

"Thank you, Kate, but-"

Kate leaned in. "No buts. End of story." Then she leaned back out. "Just if you need money for bullets, ask me, not Bruce. Jays has been asking him since he came back from the dead. He's convinced he'll break eventually."

"Okay." I laughed, it took a minute for what Kate had just said to register. "Jay was what now?"

Kate laughed. "That's a story for another day. Don't worry he brings it up quite often."

"Okay." I sat staring at her blankly for a moment. My brain was still processing what she had just told me.

"So," Kate broke the silence. "How are you enjoy your meal?"

"What? Oh yeah. Its nice." I took another bite of my wrap. "Is there anything Alfred can't cook?"

"If there is, we have yet to find it." Bruce said as he entered the gazebo.

Kate and I looked at Bruce with surprise. She must not have. heard him approach either. "Hey." Kate and I said in unison.

Bruce looked to me."A couple more boxes of yours came." He gestured back to the house. "I just left them in the entrance but Dick and I can bring them up to your room if you want."

"No. That's okay." I stood up. "I'll just throw my plate in and I'll bring them up."

"There's a couple boxes. You'll need a hand." Bruce insisted.

Kate swallowed the last piece of her wrap. "I'll help." She said, standing up and grabbed my plate off of me. "I'll throw these in and meet you two in the main hall." She walked off towards the house.

Bruce and I watched for a second before he started walking as well. "Come on." He said. I got up and followed him. "So did you and Kate talk?"

I silently gulped. "Yup."

"I'm sorry about that. I know what you said but we thought it'd help."

"It did. Thanks." I said. "Anything else like that I should know about?"

"No." Bruce smiled at me as we reached the back door. We walked through the house to the entrance hall. A stack of boxes sitting by the door and by them, stood Kate.

"Let's bring these up then." Bruce said, grabbing a stack of boxes.

"So how was work?" Kate asked him, grabbing another stack of boxes.

I grabbed the last stack then we started up the stairs. "Not too bad. I got that business with Lex Corp sorted out. Thank god."

"So no more late nights for a while?" Kate asked.

"For a while." Bruce said.

"So what's in the boxes?" Kate asked as we reached the third floor.

"Lego, and books mostly, some clothes and other trinkets from my old room."

"Only some clothes?" She asked.

"Most of my old clothes were torn or too small so I left them."

"Definitely bringing you clothes shopping then."

"Speaking of shopping, you still want to go furniture shopping this weekend?" Bruce asked.

"Yes. Absolutely." I quickly replied.

"How's Saturday sound?"

"Great."

"I'll join you and we can go clothes shopping. If that's okay?" Kate asked

Bruce look to me. "Is it?"

"Of course." I responded quickly.

"Also Bruce," Kate said. "You gotta have a serious talk with Ashleigh about money?"

Bruce glanced at her curiously "Why?"

"She didn't want to ask you for money for shopping."

"Oh." Bruce sounded surprised, then he grinned. "Ashleigh never be afraid to ask me for money."

"It's just, I've only been here a week. I don't want to push my luck." I said.

"Trust me. My kids are experts at pushing their luck. You couldn't be worse." Bruce assured me.

We stopped outside my room. "So who's gonna get the door?" Kate asked.

Bruce shifted the weight of the boxes to one arm and opened the door. We set the boxes down beside my bed.

"You need help unpacking?" Bruce asked.

"No. I should probably wait till I get furniture to unpack."

"Yeah." The two agreed.

"Hey." Bruce turned to Kate. "Alfred said Jays gone out. Do you know where?"

"He went to pick up Artemis and Bizarro. Why?"

"Just wondering. Artemis will keep him out of trouble anyway."

"He's in his twenties Bruce. You don't have to worry about him everytime he goes out."

"Regardless of his age, he's my kid, it's my job to worry about him." Bruce stated. "Plus it's Jason."

"Valid point." Kate agreed, then turned to me. "You said something about Legos right?"

"Yes." I looked at her curiously.

"You got any superhero ones?"

"A couple."

"Any of us?"

"I've got you, I said pointing at Bruce." Who smiled back at me. "The third Robin and Black Bat."

"I feel kinda hurt you don't have one of me." Kate joked.

"I missed out on Batwoman." I explained as I sat down the bed.

"Too bad." Kate said leaning against the wall.

"I didn't know they made ones of Cass." Bruce looked at me curiously.

"Oh they don't. I kinda just pieced her together from other figures."

"So you dismantle the little guys you get and make someone new?"

"Sometimes. Yes."

Bruce nodded. "Cool."

Kate looked at us. "So if I wanted to make one that looked like me, not Batwoman, like me me, I'd have to buy the sets with pieces that look like me."

"There's a website where you can just buy the pieces on there own."

"Handy." She commented. I yawned. "Late night?"

I nodded. "We watched a movie last night."

"We?"

"Bruce, Harper, Carrie, Duke, Dick, and I."

Kate looked to Bruce. "Not like you to stay up late, if you're not on patrol."

"Got in from the office late. Sat down and watched a movie with the kids."

Kate smiled at him then turned to me. "You must be tired then?"

"Yeah." I agreed. "I should probably go to sleep."

Bruce nodded. "We'll see you in the morning." The two headed for the door but stopped. "I meant to say this before, my bedroom doors always unlocked if you need me."

Kate looked to Bruce then back to me. "While I prefer a bit more privacy, you can always knock, or call if I'm asleep. My ringtone never fails to wake."

I nodded. "Goodnight."

"Night." The two said in unison as the door shut.

I lay down on my bed. Jason seemed to be warming up to me, which was nice. Steph and her friend, Cass, seem sweet, and I really like Kate. She seems like someone I could talk to, about anything. As I ran through the day in my head, I couldn't help but smile as I drifted off to sleep.

#bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #barbara gordon #oracle #stephanie brown #sports #cassandra cain #orphan #kate kane #batwoman #oc #lgbtqia+#transgender #nonbinary #ashleigh wayne

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overobsessivewhumper · 4 years

Text

Mutt’s new home

Here’s part two... Don’t get your hopes up about it... It’s not as long as the first part. I wanted to try writing out or “Mutt’s” perspective.

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Trigger warning: some form of panic attack, reference to past abuse, slavery

Tag list: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @burtlederp @im-not-rare-im-rarr @comfortforthepain

A hand on Mutt’s arm was what startled him from his daze. Not just any hand. The hand of his master. Had he just almost fallen asleep without his Masters permission? Had Master ordered him to do something, and he hadn’t heard him? He barely knew his new Master, and he was already being bad! He was bad… Always bad. Always. That’s why his old master gave him away. He was a bad mutt, and bad mutt’s get punished. Mutt let out a pitiful whimper and looked up at Master. But Master doesn’t look angry. Master removes his hand from Mutt’s arm.

“You dozed off there for a while. Had to wake you up.”

Fear floods Mutt and drowns his confusion. He was dozing off without permission. He was being bad. And he was going to get punished. Or worse, master wouldn’t want to keep him, and he’d he put down. Tears flow from his eyes and Mutt shifts to his knees in the back of the car. He bows his head and doesn’t dare to meet Masters eyes.

“I… I know Ma… Master. I sh… sh… should have asked for permission. I’m sorry Mas… Master! I’m a bad Pet… I’m so sorry!” Mutt bursts into full-blown sobs but tries to continue. “I’m… I’m a bad Pet… P… Please do… don’t send me a… away!”

Master doesn’t say anything. Mutt even thinks he had gone, bored by his stupid babbling. That is until a hand gently touches the side of their face to move it up and then Mutt is staring at Master. Master doesn’t look angry. He looks… sad?

“Look at me please. It’s okay. You don’t need my permission for something like sleeping. It’s okay. You… you weren’t bad. Everything you did was perfectly fine. I won’t hurt you. Is… Would it be okay if I picked you up?”

A feeling of complete confusion overcame Mutt. Why? Why was Master being so… so… Kind? Why wasn’t he angry? Why? Mutt can’t stop the tears from coming. If he where still with his old Master, he would have already been yelled at and punished for being too loud. He thinks about saying, that yes, he’d like to be carried. But that might make Master angry, so he decides against it. Instead he tries to tell Master that he can do whatever he wants and that everything he does to him is okay between sobs. But all that comes out are choked sobs and whimpers.

So he just nods. Master smiles. Yes, smiles! Mutt doesn’t understand why, but stops trying to question his Masters actions. Only a really bad pet would question their Master! Mutt instead decides to try and quiet the sobs as Master moves to pick him up. Mutt had been picked up before. Of course he has. His old Master sometimes picked him up. But never before has someone picked Mutt up with such… care? Why would Master be so careful? As if it actually mattered if Mutt was comfortable or not… Master had picked him up like one might pick up a child, Mutt’s legs wrapped around his hip, and his tear-stained face buried in the crook of his neck. Trembling, Mutt moved his face away from masters neck, not wanting to stain his cloths.

As if reading his mind, Master said “It’s okay. Just let it all out… I don’t mind you crying on me. Just let it all out…”

Hesitantly, Mutt complied. And suddenly, it was all too much. The fear, the confusion, the pain. Mutt couldn’t even remember when last he wasn’t scared and hurting. Everything was just so… much! And now master had given him permission to let it out, there was no way he could keep it in. And Master just lets him. Doesn’t tell him to be quiet. Doesn’t shout. Just continues carrying him somewhere. Mutt didn’t know where, but it was not his place to ask. Not that he could have. Uncontrolled sobbing was still the only noise he could make.

Mutt only grew aware of his surroundings when he felt that he was being put down on something soft. A couch. For a moment, Mutt couldn’t breathe. Pets aren’t allowed on furniture. Pets belong on the floor. He’ll get punished! But then he remembers who put him on the couch. Master did. And his new Master has different rules then his old Master. It’s okay. Master put him here. It’s okay… But Mutt’s breathing still comes way too fast. Master sits next to him and lets him cry on his shoulder again. Mutt sobs for a long time, so long, that when it eases up a little due to him no longer having tears to cry, he’s absolutely sure Master is going to be mad. But the longer he waits, the un-easier he’ll feel, so he moves away and looks at Master as fast as he can.

But once again, Master doesn’t look angry. Mutt begins to wonder if Master is incapable of anger. Master smiles at him a bit.

“I hope that helped a bit. Even if it just helped a little bit…”

“Y… Yes, Master. Thank you, M… Master.”

Master frowns, and Mutt feels a pang of fear. He knows he must have done something wrong.

“You don’t need to call me Master. Just call me Gavin.” Mutt nods, despite it being an odd request.

“And… what can I call you?”

“Y… You can call me Mutt, G… Ga… Gavin…”

Mas… Gavin sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. Mutt whimpers. Did he do something wrong? Gavin looks at him again.

“I meant a human name…”

“A… Human name?”

“Yeah. Did you have one before Mr. Hughes got you?”

Mutt whimpers Quietly and says “I n… never had a… human name. I’m s… sorry Master.”

If Gavin noticed Mutt using the wrong title for him, he didn’t say anything or react.

“How about… you think of a name you’d like to be called whilst I…” He sighs. “Whilst I get some things to patch you up, is that okay?”

Mutt nods a little hesitantly, but stays silent. His Master doesn’t say anything either, just walks out of the room. Mutt slowly pulls his knees to his chest, looking around properly for the first time. He thinks he may be in some kind of living-room, judging by the couch and two armchairs, all in the same dark blue, in front of a flat-screen TV. The curtains and rug where a similar blue, and the wooden floor was mad of light-brown wood. It looked nice. But a Pet was in no place to be the one judging their Masters house. Good Pets don’t think unnecessary thoughts. Good Pets do what their Master orders. But Mutt had a hard time doing what his Master had ordered him… He didn’t know what kind of names Gavin would like or what kind of names suited someone like him! What if he proposed an idea that displeased his Master? How should he know what he should choose? Trembling, Mutt hugs his drawn up legs tighter to his chest. It was all so much. He was just a Pet. A bad, stupid Pet. He wasn’t supposed to be allowed to want things or decide stuff. He tries to think, but he can’t, and when Master comes back a few moments later, he has nothing.

“Oh god, are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” His Master, Gavin, crouches down in front of him, looking stressed. “Shit… What did I do? I’m sorry…” He takes Mutt’s hand gently.

Mutt stares at him. He knows it’s bad to stare, but he can’t help it. No one, especially no Master, had ever apologised to Mutt. At least as far as he can remember…

“Look… I’m sorry. I probably put too much pressure on you… I… I should have thought of that. How… How about we focus on getting you to feel a bit more comfortable and we’ll… find a name you like later, okay?” Master looks… genuinely sorry? Why?

Mutt nods slowly, not knowing how else to react to… this. Mutt watches as Master lays out different things on the coffee-table, watching him for any signs of anger or disappointment. But Master looks tired and confused and sad. Mutt doesn’t know what to think. So he doesn’t think too much. His old master never liked it when he thought all too much. As far as he knows, Gavin hates him thinking for himself just as much as his old Master. He’ll probably learn about that soon enough. Gavin will soon show him exactly what he is allowed and what not. Mutt will just have to wait.

#my writing #my stuff #whump #pet whumpee #mention of past abuse #unnamed whumpee #mutt #gavin #my OC's #gavin and mutt

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unconsciouscelestial · 4 years

Text

Bone-afide Buddy

for @smitemight Sorry this took so long! Things have been busy. I really hope you like it~ What a week you had been having. Work had been absolutely horrible, and you were reminded that it was thanksgiving- which you felt obligated to go to. To make matters even worse, the date you were going to bring broke it off two days ago. You just knew that if you didn’t have a date, your step-cousin Sarah was going to spend the whole night bragging about her relationship and purposefully making your lack of a partner topic of discussion. You couldn’t stand her fakeness most days but she was always particularly awful at family gatherings.

So now you found yourself posting a profile on a dating app with the clear instructions you were only looking to make friends for a family event. It didn’t take long before you got a private message.

[Stretch: hey. sounds like you could use a bone-afide buddy]

Was that a skeleton pun? Why would he...? You checked his profile and almost fell out of your chair laughing. He was a skeleton! It was definitely a pun. Even better! Sarah vehemently hated puns. You skimmed over his profile, already pretty sure he would be perfect. Apparently he had brother he was super proud of, and he looked fairly laid back. You messaged him back no hesitation in your mind at this point.

[you: Tibia honest, I really could. Are you really willing to pretend to be my date?]

[Stretch: well when you think about it, its still a date, just platonic. no one needs to know that though. do you wanna hang out first sometime before thanksgiving so its less awkward and we're past first meeting? make it less obvious?]

[you: oh hey yeah that's a great idea actually! Do you have anything in mind?]

[Stretch: there is a sweet cafe that I frequent, its pretty relaxed and I think youd like it]

[you: sure! How about you text me the details and we will go from there? Xxx-xxxx]

The two of you spent the rest of the day texting back and forth asking each other questions and setting up plans to hang out. Thanksgiving was coming up soon, so getting together had to be sooner. The two of you arranged a day and time and you went to bed satisfied with how things were turning out.

Later that week the two of you met up at a place called Muffet's. It was a lovely cafe, run by an attractive spider monster and little monster spiderlings. You spotted Stretch at the sitting counter chatting away to whom you presumed was Muffet. You thought you were early, only to discover that Stretch had already been there for over an hour already. After a somewhat shy greeting, you ordered your fave drink and snack and the two of you sat down at a little two person table by some bookshelves and a few potted plants. The plants had a few cobwebs but it was nice and cozy. You went over the situation again, making sure that he knew he had the opportunity to back out at any time. He just chuckled, “hey its all good. we've all bean there, and I don't mind helping out a new friend”

You covered your mouth in an attempt to hide your laughing. “Did you just??” Stretch just nodded and winked, popping a sucker in his mouth. Once you had composed yourself, the two of you chatted about your family and little details. Once everything was settled you moved on to asking questions about each other. Stretch told you proudly about his brother, and a little about what it had been like on the surface for them. Before you knew it, the streetlights were flickering and you decided it was best to call it a night. You could always continue texting. The two of you parted ways, and as you watched him walk away down the side walk you grinned wide and called out.

“Hey, Stretch?” He turned his head to acknowledge you.

“Thanks a latte, it really means a lot,” you smiled. He chuckled deep, you blinked and he was gone.

The two of you spent the rest of the week texting back and forth, and playing video games together on your fave console. Thanksgiving came quicker than you had anticipated but you woke that day mostly excited. On the radio ‘I do Adore’ was playing and you got ready with a bounce in your step. Stretch was fun to hang out with, and you kinda missed him? You cleaned up and upon checking the weather, (it was actually going to be a warmish and sunny day today) decided on bright pink shorts, a green tank top and for good measure you threw on your big light yellow sweater. After grabbing something to eat for breakfast you gathered all your things, (keys, phone, wallet, check!) you put on your light purple sneakers and headed out the door. You figured you would wait on your front steps for Stretch to arrive. It was a nice enough day. He pulled up in a honey gold two door sedan and popped open the passenger door from inside. As you got in, you noticed in the back seat were a few bags with snacks and a large couple bottles of honey. You eyed him questioningly and he chuckled lightly.

“Figured it was a bit of a drive, just in case you got munchy before we got there. Didnt know if you had time for breakfast or not,”

You mentally squealed, that was super thoughtful, even though you had already eaten. You told him as much and he just nodded, turning on the radio. You didn't object, but you kinda grinned when you noticed the orangish hue that had gathered just on his nasal ridge. Apparently he had put on a playlist since Final Girl by Graveyardguy came on, and that was definitely not top 40. You turned it up, and he looked over at you inquisitively.

“Its one of my favourites right now,” you shrugged. You were glad that you had already sent him directions, sometimes trying to guide someone by memory was a pain in the ass. The two of you enjoyed the rest of the ride there, it wasnt too long of a drive. When you arrived, you jumped out of the car eager to stretch your limbs a bit. You waited by the front steps for Stretch, as he parked and locked the car. As you were waiting Sarah threw open the door.

“Ohhhhh y/n! You're here! Isnt that lovely,” she drawled out, pulling you into a very obvious fake hug. You stiffened like a board but let her do it anyway, awkwardly patting her on the back. “Yep. Im here. Yaaaay.” you retorted with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh! But where is that guy you were seeing? Grams said you were bringing him?” she smiled mischievously, looking around you pointedly. You coughed, and pulled yourself out of her grasp.

“Yes, well you see-” you started, when Stretch's voice called out like a beacon.

“He bailed on our girl quite some time ago, so I'm the date.” He stated, pointing to a pin of a date on his sweater. When you noticed what it was you covered your mouth to hide the fact you felt like cackling. He putting his hand out to shake Sarah’s and she recoiled with a fake smile.

“Ohhh yesss. Well I see. I think I hear my fiancé calling, but please the two of you come inside.” she backed up and practically ran inside. You had to stifle a laugh. You muttered a thanks, and he whispered no problem. As soon as you stepped inside you were practically bombarded by children. A few were pulling you into the living room, some wanted you to come out back. Stretch kneeled down and beckoned them close, whispering something. They all ran off screaming and laughing into the yard, giving you some space and time to breathe.

“What on earth did you say to them?” you asked while clutching your sides laughing. He grinned in response.

“That’s for me to know, and for you to find out,”

you smirked and let it be for now. You looked around, it was a pretty full house. Your parents, aunts uncles cousins, a couple sets of great uncles and Aunts, and your grandparents too. It seemed whatever Stretch had said, had all the young kids outside in the yard. Some of the older teens were downstairs on their devices and playing video games probably. Your thoughts were interrupted by your Gram calling you, and Stretch took your hand and let you lead him over. He introduced himself quite suavely and your grandparents were clearly satisfied. The two of you sat near, and chatted a while. Sarah came in to the sitting room practically dragging her fiancé behind her, and almost shoved him in your face.

“Here Y/n! This is Greg, my fiancé. He is a lawyer, isn’t he just wonderful?” She gushed. The poor guy looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“Nice to meet you,” you nodded, and he gratefully slid away into a corner beside Sarah's father.

“So. When did you start dating Mr. skeleton?” Sarah asked, plopping herself down beside you. You shifted over a little, but smiled sweetly.

“A couple weeks now, since what’s-his-face dumped me.” You figured most of the truth was a good idea. Stretch just nodded beside you. Sarah just smiled painfully and left you alone, she was clearly not going to get a rise out of you tonight.

Your aunt called everyone to the tables for supper, and Stretch led you to the youth table and sat down beside you. You blushed, he had remembered what you told him about thanksgivings past. After everyone at the adult table had said their stories, desert was served. The kids were nonstop telling you and Stretch their stories, and once or twice you caught him looking your way adoringly. It wasn't unpleasant, and actually felt quite natural. Like he just fit. After the meal was done, you let the kids drag you out both outside. You watched them play a few games for a while, leaning into Stretch sleepily. He just leaned back a little and let you doze off on his shoulder. When you awoke, you were laying on your front porch furniture with a note next to you. It read:

hey y/n, you had dozed off hard, so I just took a shortcut to get you home, everyone understood. Thanks for inviting me, I actually had lots of fun. cant wait to hang out again

-stretch

You went inside with the biggest smile on your face, and butterflies in your stomach.

#us!papyrus #stretch #undertale au #fanfiction one shot #reader insert #fluff #friends to maybe more trope

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cowlovely · 5 years

Text

The Losers Club + Maine

i feel like as a mainer, it's my obligation to make this post, so here i am

disclaimer: for the purposes of this post I’m pretending that none of the losers left derry until graduating high school because the alternative makes me sad

* to start this off, in case you were wondering, yes it was extremely unnerving to watch it (2017) the first time. the foliage/town layout etc. looks exactly like where i live

* you can bet your ass at least one of them works at a local convenience store or grocery store as a teenager, probably Wallgreen’s or Cumberland Farms (my bet's on Richie)

* this means that summer is a fucking nightmare what with all the tourists from Massachusetts and Quebec (affectionately called "massholes" and "queebs")

* the movie did not exaggerate swearing. i'm sure it's like that in other places too, but mainers swear a LOT. especially teens. we're very liberal with our f-bombs

* halloween does sometimes get snowed out here. We have snow on halloween more often than on christmas

* one unrealistic thing about IT (seems kind of stupid to nitpick a supernatural horror movie but I’m going to anyway): the kids didn't complain about humidity a single time. The average mainer complains about this ten times basically every day of summer

* this is just occurring to me now but?? bev living in an apartment building is kinda weird.....we have apartments, but usually in very small house sized residences, not huge ones like we see in the movie (but derry is bigger than the town I live in so idk)

* bill’s stutter would absolutely get worse during the fall/winter (it gets cold as fuck where I live, and Derry is way farther north)

* The beach is fun, but the water is not. The water is fucking ice cold. We get a weird warm current once every like. 15 years

* stan, excitedly calling bill: bill!! this [book/movie/show/whatever] takes place in maine!!!

* bill: I k-know. The others a-already all c-c-called me

* ^ this was literally everyone at my school when once upon a time was really popular

* I'd like to formally apologize to mike for the amount of white people in maine (if any of you were watching the movie like “why is everyone white” the answer is that maine is 94% white people and i wish i was joking)

* mike, stepping outside in the middle of winter: oh! it's not that cold today!

* mike's grandfather: it's -3 degrees mike (yes this is a real interaction I’ve had)

* at LEAST one of the kids turns out to be a stoner like....there's one in almost every friend group here

* i can confidently say that one of the kids has ruined some piece of clothing with tree sap

* eddie is really twitchy during the spring cause that's when everyone starts freaking out about ticks

* ben, his first winter there: im so excited for it to snow!!

* all the other losers, dead inside:

* there are just. so many antique shops. like at least one or two per town

* so much camo. so. so much. you can pretty much guarantee that every asshole boy in high school wears camo and hunts with his dad

* you either love moxie and whoopie pies, or you hate them. end of story. there's no in between (the kids are very divided on this, blood has been spilled)

* 99% of kids/teens in maine own something by L.L. Bean, but don't remember buying it (not a single kid in chapter one had an L.L. Bean backpack??? that’s bullshit Mr. Muschietti)

* richie at ben's house for the first time, practically choking: oh god that's definitely not real maple syrup

* If you don’t know what that means, you’re definitely not from New England

* Wicked is an adjective in maine, and the kids use it ALL the time (i.e. wicked cold, wicked good, etc). The fact that this is in the book and not in any of the adaptations is a hate crime

* The kids, every time they walk by an old building: it's haunted

* Honestly? Any time they walk by any building. Everything in Maine is haunted and everybody knows it

* Someone over the internet, to one of the losers: is there internet in maine?? (this legitimately happened to my brother and I will never stop thinking about it)

* Fluff is the SHIT (the rest of the kids nearly had an aneurism when they found out that ben had never had any)

* I know they have it in more places now, but until like the 90s/early 200s it was only in New England and like. I think a few states in the midwest

* The squirrels are sometimes violent and will occasionally throw pine cones at you. and they hit HARD

* I don’t know if this is just a southern maine thing or if it goes for the whole state but the fucking chapter eleven furniture ad. I don’t know if there’s a video of it somewhere but literally everyone here makes fun of it. I have no idea when they started playing it, but according to my parents it was before I was born

* billboards are illegal in maine!! this doesn’t really have that much significance to the losers but i thought it might be a helpful note for those of you who write fics

* Bill goes (or maybe used to go? you tend to do it more when you’re younger) fishing with his dad. Don’t know why, I’m just feelin it

* At least three of the losers took french in high school, it’s the one that makes the most sense practically (I’m thinking eddie, mike, and ben)

* Richie absolutely took spanish. I don’t know why I feel so strongly about this but he did

* I love the idea of Stan taking latin, but I know a lot of high schools probably don’t offer that (mine did, but they also have greek and arabic so clearly they’re an outlier)

* Central maine is mostly trees, so there’s a sort of divide between southern and northern maine. This is probably why the politics are so different between the two (some people up in the most northern part of the state wear confederate flags like what the fuck is that about)

* Someone please write or draw anything that includes the losers apple picking. I know that’s not unique to maine (duh), but it is REALLY big here

* I genuinely don’t know how much of this is common knowledge because I’ve never left new england

#ivy.txt #it 2017 #it 2019 #richie tozier #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #stan uris #eddie kaspbrak #maine tag #please validate me and my love for my state

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helloitsme103 · 3 years

Text

In This House

Part 1?

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” I mumble under my breath. It’s been years since someone has entered his house. Longer since they were pretty like this one was. “Who are you?” He barked from the love seat. He was bleeding pretty badly. The remains of his shirt were pathetic for him but entertaining for me. I swear to god, or whichever one made this man, they were gracious to this guy for sculpting him into a model of a being. “Oh calm down hun. You ain’t gonna die on me. Not today. No sir.” I call from the retro kitchen I call my lab. It was cute for what it was. Black and white tiles for floor and complentary back splash with accents in the form of of yellow painted cabinets and silver appliences that were seemingly updated every few years. Or.. what counts as years in a place like this. From the doorway I hear a very much irritated and painful groan. “Okay-Okay-! Hold on now!” I call as I turn off the sink. I quickly get the bucket of water from the sink- carefully though since we don’t want that baby to spill- and a med kit from my side cabinet. “On my way hunny!” I scurry into the more modern living room. The floors a dark brown and the furniture being a contrasting white. Light, sky blue walls make a more cheerful welcome than that of the hot mess of the man bleeding out on my favorite love seat. “I swear, you need to take a chill pill sometimes y’know that?” I remind him ask I make my way towards him. “W-who?” He asks through his grogginess. “Great. Left you out too long. Hold on.” I pop open my kit and take out a jar of powder I wish I could keep. With a few twists the top of the jar comes off with a satisfying pop. “God this is my favorite part.” I say just loud enough to get his attention. “Wha-” I smirk as I shover this under his nose. Direct hit. He inhales and goes into a coughing fit. Thank god I’ve done this for as long as I have. “Oh calm down hun, it wont kill ya.” I look through my bag, all the while ignoring his curses and comments. “Calm down why don’tcha. Take a seat, have a load off.” I tease while looking up and down at him while I still have a chance. Again, what a looker we have. Blonde hair, nice blood red eyes, wonder who gave him all these slashes. Again, rest in pieces his..? Is this a suite? I reach out for his chest, eyes locking his. “Whatcha doin?” He snarls. “Im going to remove your shirt.Is that alright?” For a moment he glares at me. “Not gonna drug me or some shit?” His shoulders tense a little. “Okay for one, the thing you just smelt was supposed to keep you awake and numb you up. Can have you falling asleep on me right now.” I hear him growl but his muscles loosen up. “As for everything else after this, which I don’t think I’d need to give you, I’ll always ask for your consent first. Got it?” I turn back to my kit and pull out another jar. When I turn back to him, his gaze is else were. “Hello?” He makes a noise resembling “Fine and “Hurrmph.” I rolled my eyes. “Okay then mr. I don’t give a damn.” I place the jar down on the floor. swiftly, I poke on of his wounds. “OW! The HELL!?” I smirk and bat my eyes. “Oh I’m so sorry-! How reckless of me!”

“Is this how you take care of people witch?!” He howls. Oh we’re playing this game huh? I go though my case and pull out a letter opener. “Is this how you talk to people asshole!?” I yell. His eyes go wide and his hands begin to pop from the arms of the chair. That’s a new one.. His hands go for my head. That’s not a new one. “The hell are you-?” I don’t hesitate to tear open his shirt and throw the opener into the wall behind me. I get the jar I had and pop it open. “’Not gonna kill ya here. I don’t think anyone can truly die here. But damn do wounds hurt.” I recount dryly. “And don’t test that theory. I’m living proof of it.” I chuckle. I see him shuffle in the now copper chair as I get the the salve on my fingers. “Stay still. I know it feels weird but calm down.” He flinches when I get close to him but I keep my eyes on my work. Eventually I cover all of his wounds with the salve, him hissing and biting his lip. “Y’know its okay to scream. Most of the most masculine of people i’ve seen have screamed when encountering this.” He only glares at me and bites his lip harder. Shrugging, I let him keep this up. “Okay then. You aren’t really proving anything but fine.” I reach for a towel nearby and dunk it into my bucket. “You are very stubborn.” A glance makes its way towards me. I laugh at his attempt to be scary. “You must hear that a lot.” After a few minutes of staring at his struggling, I wring out the towel. “Now this is gonna sting. No judgement if you pass out or scream. This isn’t a challenge. It’s a fact.” He turns his head away from me and closes his eyes. Can we get an F in chat for what this man is gonna go through?

“Trust me when i say this is gonna hurt me much more than this is gonna hurt you.” I mumble and press the thing on his chest. A scream unlike any other fills the house. Someone call Guko ‘cus this man takes the cake when it comes to screams. I stand my ground though, and make sure to wash out any wounds that I rubbed salve in. Don’t worry about him. The screaming stopped after about a minute of this. When I got done with him it was an hour later. In that time he was cleaned up, bandaged, band-aided, and set to bed in the guest room. “This one is a fire cracker.” I mumble before setting on a new record. When the player eventually starts a song I don’t reccogise starts. Its poppy, happy in tone, determined even and it gets faster. The same could be said with a feeling of hope in my chest. While I continue to sweep, more songs like this come on. All similar but unique in their own right. In a way it’s refereshing to what I’m used to. Eventually I get done and check the time. Even though it dosent matter in the long run, time keeps me sane here. The phone ends up ringing soon after. I exhale once again and answer one of the many phones this house has to offer. This one is old. It is a land line. Attached to the wall and always on. Gray in color, brick like too. There isn’t much to say with it that is of interest. Even its own ring is boring. I pick up “Hello?” I ask once again. “My hero Academy.” A monotone, computer like voice says. I sigh “Hold on for a moment.” I put the phone down and rush to the kitchen. On the counter is a worn, old, yellow, note pad and a black pen. Scribbled on it is a list going down.

Batman: The animated series

Harry Potter: Books

The Princess Bride: Movie

Many other titles litter the page. Many that I have come to known and bitterly love. For better or worse.

When I recover from my own memories I wipe away the tears that threaten to fall. “Cmon now. Let’s get back to work.” I remind myself and make my way back to the hall, this time with my tools. “Yes? Hello I’m back. What did you say again?” I pick up the pen in one hand and hold the phone in my other. “My Hero Academia: anime.” I cock a brow at that. “Onime?” I question. “My Hero Academia: ANIME.” I shake my head at the slower but louder voice. “Yesyesyes, I get it! Calm down.” I roll my eyes and sigh as I write it down. “Can you tell me who you are now?” I try. The line dies on me. What else was I expecting? “Wonderful.” I growled. Thoughtlessly, I slam the phone into its holder. For a moment I question. Random things mostly but I ground myself eventually. I always do somehow. “This is bull crap.” I mumble. My week walk me to the wall. I place my head on it and hide in my hair for a good minute. “Cmon. You can do this. We’ve gotten this far.” One inhale. One exhale. And my feet take me to the living room. The loveseat is gone, but there is always the couch I guess. I jump over the rest and sit on the cushioned seat. As always the remote is by my side. Always the left, never the right. There isn’t a lot of buttons on the remote. No numbers but there is a switch for channels and volume but the channel button dosent work. No information or exiting. There is an on and off though. Along with a pause and play there was fast forward and what have you. I don’t really use those that often though. What I do used however, this the microphone. “Please play My Hero Acedemia?” I say into the head of the mic. from the ceiling, a projector slowly rolls down, covering almost all of the wall. before showing the title of the show. My hero acAdemia. Okay, whatever.” The intro started. “What things are you going to make me feel My Hero?”

#my hero academia #fanfic #story

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blake-nikos · 4 years

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The longest DnD backstory i have made... so far

so small bit of context this is for a 5e game in a 18th century bloodborne style setting. it was meant to be one shot so i just made lady maria of the astral clock tower as my character, but the dm really likes the setting and how the game went so its becoming a full game, but i really liked how i played lady maria but i wanted something a little more then a dnd version of a bloodborne boss so i wrote this over the last few hours and its now 5:30 am oops The lady maria real name Blair ( insert appropriate lore last name with vanhellsing vibes to it ) class blood hunter level 10 Born into a noble house the daughter of a previous lady maria that died during child birth and a noble man, that was once a charming artist and writer but reduced to a cowardly shell of a man after the death of his first love, even though he has re married he never found his passions for the arts again now only making bland history text books for schools and little else. all through Blair's early life her grandfather on her mothers side would come around every few months bring gifts and tails of his latest monster hunts and the promise of "once your older if you wish it, I'll take you away from this stale noble life" as she grew her grandfather started training her in swordsmanship and fire arms, her farther forbid the training but the grandfather kept coming till one day he had the town guards waiting and threaten to have him killed if he took "his last piece of her away" blair over heard this but didn't understand at the time only being around 9 years old confused as her farther barely could even stand to look at her most days. Her grandfather didn't come for 3 years after that point, till one night blare started getting ravens at her window with short notes and pages taken from swordsmanship manuals page by page every day over time forming more then a few books on different styles of fighting and firearm manufacture and such. she trained every day till her hands were blistered from the bits of wood and furniture she had been using as wooden swords to train with in her bedroom. On the day before her 14th birthday she noticed a hooded figure with a raven in the small woods out her window, she grabbed a small kitchen knife she had stolen and suck out looking for them. it didn't take long till she was deep in the woods only to be startled by a well made wooden sword being thrown to her feet "pick it up and fight for your birthday present little one" the look of joy forced down by one of determination she picked up the sword and took the guard positions she'd been practicing for all this time, swing hard but true to form never faltering a step in her foot work, pushing the old man on to is back foot , not one to show to much mercy and a reflex from years of fighting he pushed hard in to his next swing and disarmed her of her wooden sword just as he dropped his guard about to gloat " guess some ones not getting her..." shes rushes him gets her body under his guard position thrusts her arms right up under his chin and with the stolen kitten knife to his neck "took you long enough old man" drops the knife to her side and hugs him tight enough she may have heard some of is old bones crack. and starts to cry into his chest. "okay alright little one, you won the fight now need to crush me now" as he hugs her back for a moment. "i know its been a while " only to hear " too long " as she kicks him in the shin "if you hit me again no present " She pules back to look at him to notice a few more scars on his face then last time she spoke to him. he stands up straight and calls out “ lady maria please come meet my grand daughter” As a hooded woman with a raven on her shoulder looking to be in her late 30s steps out from behind a tree. she steps forward and curtsy towards Blair “ its a honor to meet you little miss, i knew your mother well, and she would be very proud of such a skilled young fighter” she says with a smile, a head tilt and a slight tear in her eye “ you most certainly have her eyes and expressions... its like looking at a memory right before me” Blair looks to her before looking down to the dirt “ ive only heard story's from granddad and farther locked all the paintings of mum in the attic i haven't seen them in years” her grandfather after swallowing his anger “ well this just wont do “ and pulls out a locket from his pocket “ i have a portrait of her above the mantel in my family manner, why don't you hold on to this one, till you come see it for your self “ as he hands her the locked with a small picture of her mother inside. she holds it close before placing it around her neck. “but now little one its your birthday tomorrow and that's not your gift this is!” as the lady maria grabs a fabric wrapped sword from behind her “this was hers it needed some repairs after she put it aside when she moved in with your father, but its been cleaned sharped and has a fresh coat of sliver” Blair takes the wrapping off the sword to see a brilliant sliver coated steel scabbed, a saber with a enlarged almost small sword style handle and guard. she clips it to her belt and draws the blade “its heavy... well compared to a chair leg but the balance feels much nicer, this, this is mine now ?” her grandfather smiles “yes little one cant have you training with chair legs forever now can we, plus you will need a real blade when our lady maria hear starts training you in our family's blood magic next week ” Blair now looking rather confused “ blood magic?” the grandfather draws a dagger from his belt and slices the the blade along his palm as the blood runs down the blade it starts to crackle and spark with lightning he throws the blade at a tree and it sparks with a brilliant light and shark cracking sound like a small bolt of lighting, “now little one this is a family secret so don't go talking about magic, can you promise me that and don't let your father find that sword?” she nods her head with gusto “ yes sir ! totally, easy, no problem. and he wont look at me any way so its easy to steal stuff and sneak around ” the day starts to grow long and they say there goodby’s for now 3 years of weakly training some times with grandfather, some times with lady maria, some times with both and some times with a different lady maria she dresses the same and spoke the same formal way for the most part but much younger she explained “lady maria is not my name little one its a title... all the lady maria's are in some way related even you. im actually your cousin my name is Juliet. the older lady maria you met the first night was my aunt and your mothers sister. On her 16th birthday and a few years of Blair being a rebellious young teen and making trouble for the towns guard and her farther getting more and more strict as she aged, Blair promptly set out with trying to ruin her farther reputation especially when the step mother started pressing to “marry her off “ even though the farther was against it the step mother started making plans for marriage behind his back. Blair being a witty young trouble maker found out about her plans and took it as a challenge and found a new form of combat training in bar fights and sneaking to the next town over and drinking with the army boys in training. till it go to the tipping point a argument with her farther that was promoted by the step mother yelling at him for the better part of the day, when she came home at dusk one evening not looking to worse for ware but about as far lady like as one can get, her father going straight in to yelling “whats wrong with you!? why must you fight against the best life you’ll ever get? how ungrateful are you ! “ the step mother butting in “ your mother would be ashamed you” with out hesitation from across the room Blair pulls a knife cuts her palm and utters a Blood Curse of Bloated Agony on the step mother and drops the step mother to her knees in pain “ you know nothing about her you good for nothing noble piece of trash” “ and dad i don’t know if you hate me... or blame me for killing mum by being borne, but you never loved me you never gave me what i needed!, and you took away the only person that could! you stopped granddad from coming you took the one person that loved me! you left me with nothing what did you expect!? her farther now yelling at Blair to stop this “fine if you want to be with him so badly then leave but if you do your title stays behind your money you’ll will be nothing more then a common present!” “OH but father i have a title you could never take I’m the lady maria” as she drops the curse go’s to her room packs a travel bag grabs her mothers sword and walks right by her father who is trying to calm the step mother now screaming for a doctor and calling Blair a witch, on the way out Blair with sword worn proud on her side, she hesitates for a moment in the door way with her back to her farther, and can hear him over the sound of the now rageing woman next to him “what have i done Ive lost her again... i’m sorry i’m so sorry” blair pretends not to hear him and walks away in to the night. after another year of training now at the grandfathers manor and returning the locket, she started going on monster hunts and when the war came true and proper she fought right besides the young army boys from time to time as a mercenary and protected them from the monsters by night, even earning some honorary militarily ranks. now a few years after the war shes now 31 and has been a proper lady maria for a good while fighting monsters and making stories of her own.

#dnd backstory

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adam-against-onision · 5 years

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@luckylucianodoesntlikeonions you wanted more weird stories from my town but the post was getting rlly long so i made new post

My next door neighbor got arrested for sex trafficking. I didnt even know i had a next door neighbor until the police were breaking his door down

Once a crackhead ran on my schools campus and tried to attack the cross country team

Once a kid dressed like stalin and administration did nothing about it

Ap teachers regularly say fuck

We have a homeless guy living here that is actually called crazy steve. Unfortunately no he does not look like jerry trainer

Theres a person at my school who looks exactly like me from behind. Same hair. Same style. We always happen to wear denim jackets at the same time. The thing is that hes a dude and im a girl. We have been mistaken for eachother multiple times

Theres this one asian girl in my class who became the president of the anime club bc everyone thought she was japanese. She even went by a japanese name. Come to find out her name is katelyn. (doesnt sound that weird but it felt like i was being told some cursed information) she transferred out of our class after that.

My freshman year they were doing a experiment where on every Wednesday and Thursday all upperclassmen were allowed to do anything they wanted on campus as long as it wasnt against school policy. The school was broken into blocks so hundreds of students would walk around the same block for hours. It was called the lazy river. Everyone who participated doesnt remember why they did. Nobody knows who started it.

despite living in a swamp ive never been bitten by a mosquito

Time seems to pass really weirdly here. Like its not consistent

Nobody can remember my age or gender. I feel like im turning into a cryptid

We have goats at my school and almost nobody knows

A teacher dressed in drag for the school musical and thats all i cant think of when i see him

My friend is 6'6 and im 5'2 ive been told that im more intimidating

The fuck ya chicken strips guy lived here

A famous alternative band started here too

My math teacher is the kind of person that seems like she doesnt go home. She just does math thats it. She has calculator magazines

Everyone has really weird ass dreams

My friend had a dream that he, an atheist, worked in and underground church. He gave a sermon that included "i have fornicated on stolen antique furniture"

The french teacher hid a kitten in her class for 3 weeks

I work in guidance and theres always a radio softly playing and it plays loud enough to hear but not enough to make it out. I cant find the source of it. It doesnt get louder or softer when you move around.

And now im gonna include all the shit from my cryptic history teacher last year

He had heart faliure a couple years ago. The first thing he said to us was "ive already died you cant put me through any worse"

Every time he mildly irritated me i would tell him "one swift blow to the chest and ill take you out"

He almost got shot for insulting the former leader of the soviet union

He has a picture of every modern president as a baby in a dress

He has a cardboard cutout of elvis in his class

He lived in a meth house with a goat named groover

He almost named his son after teddy roosevelt

I had him twice a day so the first day of school he said "we can start fundraising for your therapy bills now because youre going to need it"

He can do a really good bill clinton impression

I think he called me a whore once

He insisted on calling nixon tricky dick