#*chin hands at you* okay now tell me more about your wish au
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*SHOVES EVERYONE OUT OF THE WAY SO I CAN SMASH THE REBLOG BUTTON*
OHMIGOSH WHAT???
WHAT???
hggggghhh IShadow this is SO GOOD
The way you drew Asha's lips and her eyes and gold accents
I LOVE Cielo especially, idk what it is but THEY LOOK FANTASTIC
The expression... the ear and the neck shading... the smile and the teeth inside of it anatomically correct (<so hard for me to do)... the EYES I love how you do your eyes and the hair and asdfghj
And the way you did the TFS with the Wish font??? Asdfghjk
*sobs* My babiessssssss
Hi Shadow! (Is it okay if I call you that?) I love your wish art so much, especially with all the love you've shown Rascal's AU-- and your Starboy design is seriously SO amazing, I haven't seen much people use that style of cape from the concept art, which is a shame because it was one of my favourites!
I have two questions for you. One, does your Wish AU have a name? (<totally an invitation to infodump about your au, btw) And two, if you have time would you mind doing some TFS or OSAS doodles? No pressure, and take your time!
OMG HIYA!! Yes you may call me IShadow, (or shadow if easier) tysm for liking my art. Your art is SCRUMPTIOUS! And thank you for liking my Starboy design, I really wanted to go for more of the blue and yellow look since it looked very appealing to me!!!
first answer, I unfortunately have no name for my Wish AU somehow that’s the hardest thing to come up with, AND SECOND!! Yes I got to the doodles as soon as I saw this!!
I gotta say that your designs for Asha and star are so gorgeous 😭😭😭 they’re so pretty!!!
The fallen star belongs to @signed-sapphire
#hnggggg ishadow your art style is#so frikin pretty#i love this brush too#i#i just#*chin hands at you* okay now tell me more about your wish au#do you have redesigns for the royal couple?#i just asdfghjk#wish star#wish asha#wish concept art#doodle#the fallen star au#tfs fanart
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sevika and her baby ✧.*
16+
plot: sevika stumbles upon a hidden gem inside the brothel. who is to deny her her fun after a long day?
tags: genderless, zaun au, fingering, cunnilingus, choking, ribbon tying, spanking, sevika x reader, fem bodied reader
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
it's currently 10:04 pm, the brothel has been slow today for some odd reason. people whisper about a brawl that happened between silco's men and some barkeep, but i pay no mind. babette suddenly knocks on the wall to my room.
"y/n? there's a customer here for you." babette tells you, a sly hint of hesitancy in her tone. why was babette nervous? there was no time to be thinking these dumb questions, i had a client.
"thank you ma'am." i reply hastily. i jump out of bed, slipping on my fox mask, orange with hints of gold lacing along the edges. i tighten my black and gold corset, pulling the strings to cinch my waist. lastly i slip on my heels and i lie on the bed waiting.
after a few minutes, loud footsteps could be heard from across the hall. until they stopped at your room. a metallic hand pulls aside the curtain. my eyes go wide. it was the all known sevika, the woman that men scattered in the streets from. the most well known and powerful woman in all of zaun was now in your room, wanting your time.
"so.. what's your name doll?" sevika says, the words dripping from her tongue like pure honey. she strides towards me until shes stopped at the foot of my bed.
my mouth seems to go dry, my tongue being stuck in my mouth and suddenly i no longer know what to say. i have to admit, i was frightened of her and of all the stories ive heard.
"hm? cat's got your tongue? too bad.. wish i could hear your beautiful voice." sevika replies to herself, cupping my chin in her hand as she slips off my mask. she runs her fingers over my lips as a prompt. i slack my jaw and she easily slips her fingers into my mouth. i circle her thumb with my tongue, suckling slightly on it.
"jus' like that doll." she murmurs to me as she presses her thumb flat on my tongue, causing me to gag.
"such a pretty thing" she says to me as she moves over to the table of toys. "too bad you'll be ruined once im done with you." she tells me as one last warning. she grabs a set of ribbon ties and a blindfold.
my eyes flutter at the items she picks up. "y/n." i stammer out, "my name is y/n" i tell her as she moves back to the bed. i move into the middle of the bed as she kneels at the edge of it.
"such a pretty name for a pretty lass like you, yeah?" she tells me, my face going a pale pink. she suddenly pulls my wrist, spinning me around and onto my stomach. my face was now shoved into the pillow. i try to ask what shes doing, but it's to no avail.
she ties the ribbon around my wrists, binding my arms behind my back. suddnely she pulls my head up by my hair, a pained grunt escapes my lips. a silk blindfold is slipped over my eyes. the world goes dark.
metal clanking can be heard behind me, suddenly im spun around onto my back. god i wish i could see what she looks like, i start to imagine her body.. toned abs? c or d cup? what scars does she have? and suddenly i feel a little too damp in my underwear.
sevika moves closer to me, my lower half now balanced on her thighs. a ripping sound of fabric is heard as my underwear is shredded with her knife. "just trust me, okay?" she whispers into my ear before a moan is ripped from my throat.
her fingers pinch and rub at my clit as moans slip from my lips. everything seemed heightened due to the blindfold. i needed more- i needed her. i move my hips up closer to her, whimpering for more.
"so needy" she mumbles before giving a small slap to my clit. a strangled moan escapes my mouth.
suddenly all friction is moved away for a few minutes until i feel her hot mouth on my peppled nipple. i arch my back, up and into her mouth. small and soft grunts come from her mouth, only spurring me on. after a while of abuse to my breasts, a sharp stretching pain takes control of my body.
she easily plunged 2 of her thick, warm fingers into my dampness. i wince at the pain, but it quickly subsides as she starts rubbing my clit with her other hand. i go to say something, but im quickly cut off as she curls her fingers up and into just the right spot.
my vision goes white for a hot second until i feel her dragging her fingers in and out of me. every few seconds she curls her fingers inside of me.
"please- shit- sev!" i quickly moan out as i start to feel my orgasm approach. i start to grind my hips against her fingers, my thighs clamping around her waist.
"jus' a little more. almost there." she reassures me as she quickens her pace.
sharp and loud moans are drawn from my lips as i feel hot liquid drip down my core, i squirted all over her shirt and pants. a soft moan can be heard from her lips.
i groan at the loss of sensation as she pulls her fingers out, i can hear her licking my juices off her fingers. the dip at the edge of the bed suddenly dissapears as she gets up.
a damp and cold cloth strokes against my clit, sending a jolt down my spine. "easy, im jus' cleaning you up." she coos to me.
next thing i know the binds on my arms are coming undone, falling down at my sides. i pull them to my stomach as i rub the leftover marks where the ribbon was. i take off my blindfold to thank her for her service, but the curtain was already shut. she had disapeared like most of my usual customers. three silver and a bronze coin lay at my desk.
i wonder if i'll ever see her again.
thank you for reading if you got this far! this is my first post, not sure if ill do more. just depends on if people like my writing!
#sevika x reader#sevika#arcane#sevika smut#smut#wlw smut#wlw#wlw ns/fw#i love sevika#i need her so bad#i love women#pinning#ambessa x reader#arcane ambessa#arcane sevika#victor arcane#ambessa medarda#mel and ambessa#caitlyn#arcane league of legends
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iou
words: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (but reader is on birth control), friends to lovers, college!au (briefly), kind of nerdy reader but like more studious, partying, drinking
“seriously, y/n. anything. id pay-shit, id do anything. please.”
the final word out of rafes mouth is finally what breaks you as you slump against your seat. “fine!”
“thank you, thank you.” rafe says, hand gripping yours.
“you know how much extra work i have already rafe.” you whine. it's your fault truly for being an overachiever in college. everyone knows getting paired with you means you immediately take over all the work, having to do double or triple what the other students deal with.
“and that's why ill do anything for you. tell me whatever you want.” rafe pulls his wallet out, thinking you'd ask for money.
in your twelve years of being friends, you've never really shown an interest in money, especially when your parents have enough to send you to the best university, just like the cameron family.
“i don't want your money, rafe.” you roll your eyes. “you just… you just owe me, okay? ill figure it out later, i need to get to work on your assignment now.”
thankfully it's just an essay for a subject you already know a decent bit about, and you don't want to make it too good to make people suspicious of rafe submitting work clearly not done by him, but at the same time you want to save him from failing the class.
“thank you.” rafe says again. “you're actually the coolest girl here.”
you roll your eyes. if only rafe actually saw you that way. he's turned out to be a great friend, especially now that you're away from the outer banks, but he's still the life of every party, the guy all the girls look to.
it's lead to some uncomfortable moments of trying to figure out if the new friends you were making were just using you to get close to him.
you realized long before college that rafe didn't see you like other girls. you were his friend first, and a girl his age second. he never once tried to hit on you, even though you desperately wished things would change when you both decided on the same college.
--
“you know, i still owe you.” rafe says, setting a glass of lemonade down in front of you. “never would have passed that class without your essay.”
you smile, taking a sip. “oh, i haven't forgotten.”
you're home for the summer, back in the outer banks with no stress of classes, able to truly relax and unwind.
“seriously, ask for anything, anytime.” rafe says, taking a sip of his beer, the bottle already dripping with condensation.
“ten million dollars?” you smile and tilt your head to the side, making rafe roll his eyes before laughing.
you've only grown closer to rafe since coming home. you thought he'd be excited to see his friends who stayed on the island, but hes more interested in hanging out with you now that you're not busy.
“you're coming to the party this saturday right?” rafe asks. “topper told you about it?”
“yup.” you nod. “he texted me.”
“oh…” rafe hums, suddenly feeling a bite of jealousy he didn't expect.
“wanna help me pick out a dress to wear?” you ask rafe. you have girl friends that you could talk to, but honestly, the more time you spend with rafe, the more open he becomes, and the less you want to see anyone else.
“absolutely.”
--
rafe admires his choice as you bring back a drink for him, having just emptied your own glass.
“here ya go.” you hand him the glass of whiskey before setting your drink down on the table in front of you. you tuck the skirt under your bum as you sit down. of course rafe had to go for the smallest and tightest dress you own, claiming he just really liked the color.
“you're the best.” rafe smiles at you, a soft, slightly drunk, twinkle in his eye.
“yeah, yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes, tipping your feet to the side to get some weight off your heels. it's been too long since you've worn anything other than sneakers and crocs.
“seriously.” rafe moves his chin to his knuckles, elbow resting on the side of the couch. “you helped me with my essay and so much more when we were at college and you're not even sick of me and telling me to fuck off now that we're back home.”
“id never tell you to fuck off.” you shake your head, taking a large sip of your drink, feeling it immediately add to your buzz.
“we should dance.” you suggest, looking at the crowd of bodies all twisting together in time with the music.
“is that you using the iou?” rafe asks.
you stand up, looking down at rafe. “i need to use an iou to have you dance with me?”
“nope.” rafe stands suddenly, making you aware of how close you are, chests practically touching, mouths hovering not far apart.
you hesitate, just as rafe seems to freeze, before you both move in, rafes lips smashing against yours as you kiss wildly, hands not shy despite all the people around as rafes large palms squeeze your ass, while yours dive underneath his shirt, feeling his muscles.
“fuck, upstairs.” you gasp, rafes lips moving to allow you to catch your breath, but only to kissing your jaw.
rafe doesn't speak, simply lifts you up and allows you to wrap your legs around his waist. you don't care that your dress bunches up and makes your underwear clearly visible to everyone passing by, now when your lips are on rafes neck while he carries you.
as he bounds up the stairs, moving as quickly as he can, you take a moment to suck a hickey into his tanned skin. no way you're going to let this moment go without claiming him for yourself.
rafe pushes into a random guest bedroom. the bed is stripped down to just a sheet, but it'll do as he locks the door behind him, hands fumbling briefly at the doorknob before securing it.
rafe lays you back on the bed, glad to have his lips reconnect with yours as you begin to kiss again, both completely unencumbered by what the kiss means with the alcohol flowing through your bodies.
rafe held himself back for so long, not wanting to ruin his friendship, that he has to force himself to not go wild and immediately tear your dress off.
“baby-” rafe gasps out.
“if you want to stop, im using my iou to get you to fuck me.”
“no.” rafe laughs and shakes his head. “save it for when we are arguing over where to eat or what we want to name our future child. im going to fuck you.”
you feel your cheeks flare up, clearly rafe is thinking of this as the start of a relationship, not just a one time hookup, and you couldn't be more happy and relieved.
“fuck me then.” it's all you need to say to get rafe moving again, hands pawing at your dress as you work it off your body, leaving you in nothing but a strapless bra and a tiny thong you put on hoping rafe would see it.
you pull at rafes shirt, a pout on your lips, asking him to take it off without using words.
rafe is quick to oblige you, tossing his shirt somewhere in the room as your lips reconnect, rafes hands gripping at your chest while you feel the muscles along his arms and shoulders.
“i-i need you so bad. i don't have a condom though.” rafe would go down to the party half naked begging for one if you really wanted him to.
“it's okay, im on birth control.” you take rafes hand and press it to your arm, allowing him to feel your implant. “and im clean.”
rafe nods, a smile breaking out on his face just at the thought of getting to have you bare. “im clean too.”
“what are you waiting for then?”
rafe is quick to finish undressing you, practically drooling when he sees your tits, teased so long by only getting to see them underneath sweaters and tshirts, teased by sneaking peeks while you were busy studying or deep in thought.
he takes a moment to press a kiss to each of your nipples, watching them bloom underneath the touch, but he will have all the time in the world to focus on them later as he moves to undressing himself, pushing his shorts and underwear down in one quick movement.
“oh.” your eyes widen when you see rafes cock for the first time.
“ill be gentle.” rafe says, pulling your thong down your thighs. “promise.”
“okay.” you nod, allowing yourself to relax as you rest against against the bed, feeling the way rafe positions himself until your eyes blink open and see his face hovering above yours.
“what?” you ask, suddenly feeling shy as you blush.
“nothing. you're just beautiful.” rafe bends down to kiss you at the same moment his cock presses against your entrance, his lips keeping you distracted from tensing up as he slowly pushes in, being as gentle as he possibly can with his length until he's seated fully inside of you.
“you're so-” rafe gasps out. “warm and wet.”
“of course im wet.” you giggle. “wanted this for so long.”
“wish i would have stopped trying to be the perfect friend and just did this earlier.” rafe shakes his head with a slight laugh. “you- you feel amazing.”
“you can move.” you nod to rafe.
he keeps his movements slow and steady, watching your face as he does, fully focused on just your pleasure.
“faster, it's okay.” you tell rafe, hands gripping his shoulders as he begins to move, hips swinging in faster, meeting yours in a loud slap until it's clear to everyone outside of the room exactly what is happening.
your moans grow as well until you're making constant noises, drowned out past the door by the music pumping through the speakers. rafe swears the way you sound right now is better than any other song.
he drops a hand to your pussy, shifting his weight onto one elbow as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing over it as he learns what you like, watching the way your face twists and contorts in pleasure.
“gonna-gonna cum.” you warn.
“im close too.” rafe says. he could have cum the moment he pushes inside you, but he's been waiting for you to be ready to release, wanting to meet your highs at the same time.
“inside me, rafe.” you don't want him to pull out, you want to feel what it's like to have him release inside of you.
he nods rapidly, breathing deeply as he focuses on your clit, ignoring the swelling of his cock until your head tips back and pussy tightens, and then he crumbles.
--
you never end up using your iou. not when you go back to college and you rope him into helping you study late at night.
not even when planning your wedding where rafe jokes about you using it to have your first dance song be to taylor swift, but he concedes and agrees without you needing to use it.
not when you're raising your child together and you want to dress your daughter up in a pink bunny costume for easter, while rafe wants her in a more traditional dress.
you never need to use it when you want rafe to kiss you, to hold you, to make love to you, because that's exactly what he wants to be doing anyways.
#sorry this sucks but i just wanted to post SOMETHING god#i havent been writing a lot lately bc a new planet zoo pack came out vsjlkdf#sorry!#rafe fic#rafe fanfic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x oc#rafe x readerr#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x oc#rafe cameron x reader#rafe imagine#rafe blurb#rafe one shot#rafe drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron one shot
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daisuke x reader | what are you doing new year's eve?
content: sfw, fluff, confession, daisuke calls reader "man" and "dude" but gn reader otherwise, mostly dialogue whoops
word count: 895
writer's note: jimmy only speaks once, but in my head this is an au where he does nothing wrong so reading it like that might make it more bearable. sorry for giving jumbotron dialogue </3
Holidays never meant much on the Tulpar - especially not New Year’s. Days blur together when you follow the same routine in the same place for months on end. Time hardly passes - and another rotation around the sun doesn’t feel the same floating through space anyway.
Still, your humble crew made the best of it. And now all of you were gathered around the coffee table with a cake in the center, waiting for the clock to hit midnight.
“Any resolutions, guys?” your captain asks. “Let’s hear it.”
“To find a new fucking job.” Jimmy states, crossing his arms and slouching back into his chair.
“Guy’s got the right idea. As much as I hate to say it.” Swansea agrees. His party hat has shifted out of place, though he makes no effort to readjust it.
“Oh come on, guys, don’t be such downers,” Anya interjects, trying to lift the mood. “We’re with each other, right? It’s not all bad.”
“Yeah, the New Year’s all about opportunities and fresh starts and junk!” Daisuke adds. “My resolution this year is to finally find myself a hot date.” he laughs, pleased with himself.
“Still,” you sigh, “It’d be nice to be home right now.” You rest your chin in your hand, hunched over a little with your elbow on your lap.
Daisuke smiles and pats you on the back reassuringly. “Don’t sweat it, man! We’ll be home before you know it.” He rests his hand on your shoulder, oddly comfortably.
The living room screen flashes to life with a faux-happy countdown to midnight. It’s far too bright, especially compared to the gentler nighttime graphic (“I miss it, but ‘tis the season, right?”). As the clock approaches 12:00, only some of you bother counting along aloud, though those who do are rather enthusiastic. And when the clock strikes 12:00, only some of you bother cheering. The ship’s speakers ring out with a joyous tune, and Polle’s artificial voice wishing his most valued team a happy new year. Your crew goes around exchanging handshakes and hugs and all the gestures that come with the New Year’s fresh start.
The last to approach you is Daisuke, who spreads his arms out wide, smiles even wider, and squeezes you tight in a hug.
“Thanks for everything, dude. You’re awesome! Couldn’t do it without you.”
Nobody takes a Pony Express internship for the company’s good reputation. Like your fellow intern, you were down on your luck, unsure of your future, and looking for something to get you on your feet. Luckily for you (or perhaps both of you), he made things a little easier. You’ve learned and laughed together since the start of your time on the ship. No matter how tough things got, Daisuke was always there, ready to crack a joke or offer a listening ear.
“Couldn’t do it without you, either.” you tell him in earnest. “You make it good.”
He lets go of you, his smile dropping slowly. Daisuke looks off somewhere to the side with the slightest flush to his face.
You tilt your head. “Is something wrong?”
“No! No, everything’s alright, I just, uh-” he trails off for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. “Can I talk to you for a second? Like, just us?” The flush on his cheeks deepens.
You look around to find that the rest of the crew has busied themselves with slicing and distributing the cake. “You’re sure everything’s okay?”
“Promise!” he says, pushing some confidence.
The two of you slip out of the living area and into the hall, walking a little ways away from the festivities and commotion.
“What did you wanna tell me?” you ask.
“You’re really cool, y’know?” he says after a beat of silence. “Like you’re always helping me and explaining things when I don’t get them and saving my ass from getting yelled at. I meant it when I said you’re awesome.”
Your eyes and lips raise into a small smile. “That’s really sweet, Daisuke. You’ve been great too, always keeping our spirits up. You’re wonderful.”
He beams, happily accepting your praise. You look him in the eye, anticipating whatever he might say next.
“But there is something I wanted to tell you.” Daisuke raises his hands out of his pockets hesitantly, his palms up. “Can you hold my hands first? I think it would help right now.”
Your eyes widen slightly in pleasant surprise, and you place your hands in his with a comforting grasp. “What’s up?”
“I’ve liked you, like, like-liked you for a while. Like, ever-since-we-started-working-together a while. So I was wondering maybe possibly if you wanted to, you could be my date? Like I was saying earlier?” He blurts out the words, nervous for your response.
It’s unglamorous - but it’s sincere and heartfelt and so perfectly him that you can’t help but break out into giddy laughter.
“Don’t laugh at me, that was hard!” Daisuke scolds in mock-frustration.
Your amusement dies down and you sigh contentedly, his eyes meeting yours.
“Yes, I’d love to be your date.”
Daisuke wasn’t sure when he’d hear the end of it. Maybe asking every other person on board for advice wasn’t worth the relentless teasing that would follow. But, he was sure it was worth it for his first proper New Year’s kiss, and for the life you would lead together back home.
#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x you#daisuke x reader#mouthwashing fluff#sfw#gn reader#mouthwashing game
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Wilmon + "You weren't supposed to fucking see this"💅
Simon 😭 thank you soo much for this. more Crime AU for you 🩸 (i wrote this on my lunch break very quickly so don't look too close. also i changed one word i hope that's okay)
"You weren't supposed to fucking see that," Wilhelm growled, backing Simon up against the wall, the hand on Simon’s chest slowly creeping up towards his neck. The decorative molding dug into Simon’s spine, but he kept his chin lifted and met Wilhelm’s eyes, refusing to be afraid of the man, despite what he’d seen, what he now had proof of.
In less than half a second, like the flip of a switch, Wilhelm’s face softened, and he asked in a sultry drawl, “What did I tell you about following me around, little lamb?”
“What did I tell you about not calling me that?” Simon snapped, pushing Wilhelm off of him.
The man chuckled and stepped right back into Simon’s space, though he kept his hands to himself this time. Simon only wished for half a second to have those hands back on him, on his chest, around his neck, the skin still tingling where Wilhelm had touched.
He should not have come here. He should’ve gone straight to Madison, or to the chief. This was what he’d been looking for, the bit of evidence he needed, and yet—
And yet, here he was again, alone in a room with Wilhelm, eyes flickering between the man’s dark eyes and his pink lips, wondering what was so fucking addictive about him.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t release these to the press,” Simon challenged, watching with pleasure as Wilhelm’s steady facade faltered ever so slightly. So close to him, Simon could see the subtle twitch of his left eye, the bob of his throat.
“I can give you a few,” Wilhelm mumbled, inching forward. One hand reached out, slowly moving towards Simon’s face, and Simon cursed himself as he felt himself sway towards it. The hand skipped him though, instead pressing into the wall, blocking off Simon’s one escape from the room.
Breathlessly, Simon asked, “Yeah?”
The wry, almost evil smirk grew on Wilhelm’s face, and Simon’s eyes locked on his lips as they moved closer and closer.
Those pictures on the ground were just the excuse. Simon knew the real reason he’d come here, the real reason he’d keep coming back. The anticipation burned away at him, just another inch and—
“How’s that father of yours doing, Simon?”
#major tension in this one#i cannot stop thinking about them#thank you for indulging me#yr ficlet#running with wolves#wilmon#yr fic#young royals
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LIKE YOU CARE // KTH
sometimes, you wish he would just confess
+
taehyung can't help but act on his jealousy. you can't help but wonder when he'll ever grow up
navi | m. list | ask me! |
pairing: jealous taehyung + oc (ft. wooshik)
au/genre:
situationship au
one shot
implied smut
warnings:
jealousy
frustrating situationship feels
note: originally posted on @/meowachi ,, revised !!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @heem145 @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns
Almost abruptly, he enters the washroom and shuts the door behind him. His eyes are completely fixated on yours, yet his gaze is so unfamiliar to you. It looks urgent. It looks needy. Like second nature, he locks the door behind him and takes a deep breath in.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Taehyung takes a step towards you and you take a moment to look into his eyes and you see it easily.
Jealousy.
Is it toxic to say how much this has become your favourite part of him?
“I don’t know.. Did I say a punchline?” you ask a little dumbfounded. Though you can tell that he isn’t in the mood to play dumb—which is a first—you love to push his buttons.
He places his hands on your waist, pushing you against the sink counter. God, he’s so close to you that you can smell the mix of his cologne and sweat. You can’t help but lift his chin and place kisses from behind his ear down to his collarbones. You know he won’t be able to resist you. Not when you act like this. Not when you show him how bad you want him.
“Miss me?” you ask him softly. “Mad at me?”
He huffs.
You kiss him once on his lips and finally ask; “want me?”
Taehyung lets out a shakey moan in response. Without warning, you brush your hand against his area and fumble with the zipper. Taehyung tries to focus on the smell of your hair or the smell of your girly body wash instead if his fucking dick.. But you’re wearing his favourite perfume. It’s the same one you wore when you two first met—how could he forget such a scent? Yet, the scent that consumed him entirely is the scent of you.
Just you.
And he hates it.
He hates how it’s practically covered up by whatever cheap cologne the other guy was wearing. Taehyung tries to focus on you. The prettiest girl here. The girl that’s kissing his neck but he can’t—he just feels so off. How do you do this to him? How do your sweet kisses feel against his skin not enough right now? How could only you get him this excited and annoyed at the same time? What was happening to him? He’s not used to this.
In all honesty, Taehyung has never had to worry about other competitors. Regardless if he was in a talking stage, situationship, or a full-on established relationship—he never had to worry about this.. Or perhaps, he never truly cared if he lost or won the girl.
He cares now.
He cares about you.
He knows it because suddenly, he’s picturing it. How other guys were all over you just moments before this. How his eyes darted over to you the moment he heard your laugh echo in the crowd. It made his ears turn red from anger and his ego hurt. It fractured his self-esteem and lit the question: is he enough for you? Because if he was… You wouldn’t feel entertained by other guys, right? Or were you just playing with him? Were you just toying with his feelings for you? To be fair, he never knew how deep they were for you until tonight.
So, okay.
Fine.
You win.
“___, you’re such a bitch.” Taehyung mumbles as his hands find their way to tug on the hem of your skirt. “Am I not good enough for you?”
“Excuse me?” you laugh, pulling away from him. Maybe you could connect the dots more easily if he gave you more context. What was he saying? Taehyung? The man that’s known to be so confident even in his failures… Is he insecure right now? Over what?
You want to ask. You want to play dumb. You want to explore each reaction he could give you.. But you have a gut feeling that he isn’t in the mood to play games. His signature possessive energy feels off. It’s like he’s scared.
A part of him is.
He’s too much of a coward to admit how he truly feels.
Though he had been a lot more demanding with the hookups lately and rather clingy after them—something in you did not expect this kind of behaviour from the campus dream boy. Taehyung had gotten attached and you knew it.
Tonight was proving exactly that.
He had feelings for you and you knew it. It’s safe to say that you’ve noticed it for a while now and it only made it more difficult not to make the assumption. You only play dumb for his sake. It’s to spare his ego and place the ball in his court.
The truth is if he wants you; he could have you. He just had to ask. But he doesn’t. Instead, he plays the game like a childish high school boy. So, you’ll wait.
You’ll wait until he’s man enough to use his words instead of acting like this.
“That try-hard—”
“His name is Wooshik. Baby, isn’t he in a bunch of your classes? Aren’t you guys in the same friend group as— “
“That kid was literally after you—”
“He’s older than you.”
“That’s even worse,” he says rather sharply. “He was probably looking for someone to fuck and chuck—”
You giggle, interrupting him. “Are you kidding me? He looks so soft and cute! It’s like perfect boyfriend aesthetic—”
“He didn’t even have the decency to ask if you’re even seeing someone!”
There it is.
It spills out from his lips like he had been holding it all in. He stares at you blankly when he realizes what he said.
“Am I seeing someone?”
“Whose in front of you right now, ___?” Taehyung answers unimpressed. “Look, it’s not that deep.. It’s just.. You said it would be okay that we’d start talking to each other at parties but you didn’t even last a five-minute conversation with me before you moved on to someone else—”
“Like you care.”
“So what if I do? Would it bad such a bad thing?”
Then it happens.
The eager look in his eyes softens. His gaze lowers and you fall into some sort of trance. He looks so angelic. The curves on his face and the way he blinks at you make your tummy turn. Something between you two feels like it’s sparkling and you look at him lovingly. A small smile appears on his face when it registers to him that; no. it wouldn’t be bad.
“Ohh,” you play along, “my poor baby!”
You fix the strands of his hair and he pulls away from you. The moment passes and you’re back to being a tease. You squish his cheeks and smile at him angelically. “Wooshik was cute, wasn’t he? He had a nice back profile and you know just how much broad shoulders make me feel— “
“I have a nice back profile. My shoulders are literally twice his.” Taehyung takes your hand and places it on his shoulders. You make a face, sighing as you squeeze his shoulders.
“Mhmm.. I don’t know. Wooshik doesn’t seem to be in such a grumpy mood. Maybe I should go back down there and—”
“And what?”
You groan. “Let me finish, Taehyung!”
“Not the first time you’ve said that,” he laughs. You roll your eyes at his immaturity and even hit his chest.
Now you’re not in the mood.
You should just go back downstairs and enjoy the rest of the party. Who cares about Taehyung? He’s all talk.
Taehyung is cute and all but he too could be a real piece of shit. It’s odd to say, but this is how you two are. Cat and dog, bickering until it counts. When it does count, suddenly you two are the only one the other wants. With Taehyung, it’s a constant push and pull until one of you gives in. It’s always been like this.
Maybe, it’s time for a change.
You lightly push away from him and reach for the door. Without hesitation, he playfully pulls you back to him and presses his body against yours. “Don’t do that,” Taehyung gulps, unsure whether he should stand stronger than this. With the wrong words and the slightest gesture—he could come off desperate. “Don’t be mad at me, ___.”
“I’m not mad at you,” you reassure him. “I just want to go talk to the kid downstairs and ask him if he’s the type to give flowers to a girl—”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh? Please do,” you giggle, pulling him in and crashing your lips onto his. You place your hand on top of where his heart is and feel how fast it begins to beat. It’s a given when Taehyung smiles into the kiss. When he deepens the kiss and you allow so, he thinks of confessing soon. He thinks of what to say and what gesture to pull off later.
Maybe something with flowers.
For now, kissing you would be his confession. He hopes you know it.
#taehyung scenario#taehyung fic#taehyung bts#bts one shot#bts situationship#taehyung f2l#taehyung fwb#bts f2l#bts fwb#taehyung imagine#bts imagine#taehyung fluff#bts jealous
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Hey, Mickey! [Pt. 2]
University AU TW: Language, Alcohol Consumption, P w/out P, Hook-Up Culture, Y/N's a bit promiscuous but so are her friends lmfao Smut Warnings: Semi-Public Sex, Car Sex, Sloppy Make Outs, Penetrative Sex, Degradation, Name Calling, Fingering, Handjob, Oral (F!Giving - Blowjob), Lowkey face-fucking, Overstimulation, San's a meanie (translated: soft dom ish), Unprotected Sex (contraceptives are sexy guys), Double Penetration, Anal, Creampie, Manhandling, Multiple Orgasms, Genre: Romance, Smut, Exes-to-FWB-to-Lovers, Minors DNI Pairing: Choi San x Reader ft. Yeosang YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 3.8K
[Other Groups Masterlist] [Ao3 Link] | [Wattpad Link]
Notes: I didn't mean to write a sequel to this but... here we are ig lmaooooooo BUT THIS IS IT I PROMISE! Also rq you do not need to read part 1, this can be a stand alone, but if you want to read that filth go ahead. Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.
Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!
"I hate you, (Y/N)!" Your friend cried. "You said he's free!"
"Okay, and? He's not free anymore," you sipped on your iced tea while your friend lamented on the table in front of you.
"Was he... was he at least a good fuck?"
"I guess you'll never know."
"No!" Your friend cries into her arms. She looks at you with sad eyes. "You're lucky I love you."
"Yup," you finished your tea and placed it aside while you continued your paper. "Plus, you don't want to date that asshole," you rolled your eyes and groaned.
"Why not?"
"His idea of a date is a movie and a fuck, he's so unromantic," you complained.
"Why are you dating him then?" She asks, regaining her composure and touching up her eyeliner now.
"I guess I'm just used to it," you eyed her weirdly but continued your own business. "Maybe I kinda missed it."
"Wow, your friends were right, your standards are really on the floor, huh?" She huffs. Apparently so.
"I know," you couldn't stop the grin from rising on your face. "Anyway, we have a date later, so we'll see what happens," you rest your chin against your palm.
"Aw, what's the plan?" She pushes.
"Let's see," San chimes behind you while placing a hand on your shoulder, "dinner at 6, movie at 8, and sex in my car at 10," San lists off on his fingers behind you.
"You're stupid," you rolled your eyes again and looked at your friend, "what did I tell you. Unromantic, right?" You sighed.
"Just the way you like it," he shoots you a wink and steals your coffee.
"What else did I tell you? Absolute asshole," you deadpanned toward your friend. San, making no comment, walked off. "Look, he just came here to fucking embarrass me and take my shit, ugh, why am I talking to him again?" You shook your head and went back to work. "Consider yourself lucky, friend." You stole a glance at her, catching her watching San walk off.
"I wish I had a guy who treated me like shit."
"You're even stupider than he is."
"Let me live my whore era in peace," her head slips down her hand and she giggles. "You have two other friends, right?"
"Why are you so attracted to my friends?!"
"Why are your friends so attractive?!" She fires back.
~
"Really, San? I thought you'd at least be a little more classy than this," you crawled over to the backseat and straddled his lap. The earlier date was a bit of a blur, to be honest, the movie was boring and dinner was okay, but part of you felt that weird semblance of him trying to be more romantic. It didn't work though. In the end, you were still about to fuck in his car, one of the most unromantic of places.
"I mean, yeah, but you're here anyway, aren't you?" His hands rest on either side of your hip. "If you want me to take you home to my place right now then I'll do it," he shrugs. "But can you wait that long?" He teases you.
"Shut up," you leaned down and kissed him. Your lips moved together slowly while San's thumbs started to trace circles around your hips. His hands slipped into your shirt and sent a cold shock up your spine, something that elicited a small groan from you and allowed San to push forward while deepening the kiss. You felt your hips relax against his lap and you could feel his boner against his jeans. You separated for a moment, leaving San to chase after you.
"What?" His voice sounded more disinterested than annoyed.
"Your windows are tinted, right?" You looked out into the nighttime.
"Nope," he pulls you down to his lips once again.
"San," his name was muffled between your lips. "Mm mmm," you shook your head. He pulled away.
"Come on, no one's here, you can see the lot better than I can," he starts to kiss your neck instead. He wasn't really wrong per se, you really should've suspected something when he parked back here, but here you were being surprised again, huh? "What are you so worried about? It's not like anyone we know would be here at this time," he continues. Again, he wasn't wrong.
Plus, part of you thought that car sex was hot.
"Fine, but I do expect you to bring me home still," you said.
"Yeah, yeah, of course," he pulled your shirt off and kissed you again, something you welcomed and reciprocated. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra before tossing it to some unknown part of the car, and your hips bucked against his, something that made him smirk against you. "Needy much?" He teased you too often, in your opinion.
"Shut up and just fuck me already, okay?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," San separated from you and you groaned. "Hold on there, baby, we're not just fucking around anymore," he lowers you against the seat and your breath catches in your throat. "Nah, we're "talking," right? I'm fucking to keep you now," he presses small kisses against your chest. "Then again, my competition is Mark, so I'm not too concerned," he grabs the waistbands of your skirt and your panties and pulls them off slowly.
"Don't be mean!" You tug at his hair and he groans around your nipple.
Mark, San's polar opposite. He was sweet, romantic, and just so caring, kinda bad at sex but you would never tell him. You didn't deserve him, now that you thought of it, especially since you're about to be willingly dicked down by your ex, but what's new?
"And? Since when were you into the nice guys? I know you, you like us mean," San's fingers ghost over your clit and your back arches. He pushes himself up and presses wet kisses along your jaw just as he traces his fingers around your folds and, fucking finally, he presses two fingers inside of you.
"Haa..." you let out a shaky moan and felt yourself sinking into the leather seats. You pulled his face to yours and kissed him hard. He let out a low groan as you started to palm at his crotch.
"You like us stupid too," he mutters against you. "You like it when we can't think of anything other than you, you thrive on that shit, it gets you off every time," his voice was a low rumble on your lips.
"No," your response came out as a low moan, "that's not..." you couldn't finish your sentence, not with how he was moving inside of you.
"You're all I ever think about," he presses up against your g-spot and your legs nearly clamped together as you started to grind on his fingers. "I could be doing whatever and all I can think about is how much of a cock-hungry whore you can be, all I think about is how you can barely even talk after I'm done with you. You should see yourself right now, where'd all that pride from earlier go?" He pulled his hand away in a swift movement, licking them clean before pulling his jeans off. The opportunity presented itself and you weren't one to back down, besides, you couldn't let him have all the glory. You were quick to push him back now, taking more of a front and wrapping your hand around his dick. "Oh?" He asks with a confident grin. You dragged your hand up and started to slowly jerk him, taking your time to listen to his own pretty moans.
"I usually prefer to be the one dumb fucked stupid but... you said it yourself, I'm fucking to keep you," you crawled into the space between his legs and wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, your tongue drawing languid circles around it while San's head hit the back of the seat.
"Fuck..." he drew the curse out and his hand rested on the top of your head as you took more and more of his cock into your mouth. He wasn't pushing down on you, thankfully, but the force was there, and god did it turn you on. You pulled your head up along his dick now, jerking him all along the way while he started to pull at your hair. The bitter taste of precum dragged along your tongue each time you tried to take more of him. "You can take more of it, I know you can," he starts to push your head down further and you gagged around him. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and San cursed again. "Fuck, you look so hot like this," he brushes your hair out of your face right as you take the last of him in. Deep breaths, just relax. Not the first time you blew him, just the first time in such a restricted space. You try to pull off of him again, but his hips move up and he holds you in place.
"Mmph," you moaned around him while he thrust into you. Your legs started to give way under you, sliding further apart while you sank to the bottom of the car and your wetness dripped out of you. One of your hands moved to your pussy and you slipped your index and middle fingers inside to scissor yourself while you gagged on his cock. San moaned on top of you just as he pulled you off of him to give you a chance to climb back on top of him, your pussy hovering above his cock for just a moment before you spread your lips and sank down on him. He pulled you down into an open kiss, with wet moans being stolen with his tongue. His hands settled on your hips, squeezing them gently to urge you to move at your own pace, and a small shift from him was enough for you to start riding him. Your hips rocked back and forth, the car shifting under you with every movement but your wary glances around confirmed that you and he were still alone. Finally, you felt your abdomen tighten and you tugged him away from you. "I'm... haa... I'm almost there," you told him.
"Are you?" His words had a heavy sultry tone to them and you felt his lips trail up your jawline. "Hold it in," he bites down on your neck and you whimpered.
"I don't think... mmph... I don't think I can," your voice mixed with your moans now and his hands tightened on your waist to hold you still.
"You know, I just cleaned this car too," he spoke against your neck. This asshole. "Would be a shame if I had to clean it again," he sighs and lowers you down again, taking full control of you.
"San, please," your hands squeezed his hips and he thrusts into you. "Please, please, please," you begged him. You couldn't hold your orgasm in any longer than you already have.
"Go then," he releases your hips and you grasp onto his shoulders and lean forward, moving up and down his length to reach your orgasm all the while he whispers dirty things. Your pussy slid against his cock, feeling the way he stretched you open with each glide up and down, it was almost too good. The things you would do just to get him to let you sit on his cock forever. "Damn, only I can make you like this, huh?" He grins just as you stilled over him, your orgasm wracking through your body, and him moaning on top of you, staying in place while your pussy tried to pull him in further.
"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," you cursed repeatedly and San flipped you so that your stomach was against the seats and he pistoned into you. "Fuck, oh god, I can't," you shook your head against them now while San thrust into you with enough force that your wetness gushed around his cock. And when you felt his thumb press against your pucker you grabbed onto the seats with a vice grip, then right as you reached your second orgasm he stilled for a moment, letting you ride it out, until he spoke again.
"You ready?"
"Mmhmm," you moaned and he pushed into you.
"Shit..." he let out a breathy moan, while you moaned loudly, not caring if anyone was around to hear you. Your hand moved to your clit, trying to speed up to your next orgasm.
"Ugh, oh god," your hands moved faster and soon, somehow, you were on his lap again, your arms wrapped around his neck and his hands on your waist while he fucked you and you bit down on his shoulder to keep from screaming while the car rocked back and forth and, then, you made a mistake. You opened your eyes.
And Yeosang's jaw dropped.
Immediately, you zipped your mouth shut and San, sensing the sudden unease, stopped all his movements. You and Yeosang were stuck staring at each other for a bit, and carefully, awkwardly, he held up a bag and pointed at it.
"Haa, fuck," you cursed, rolled your eyes, and pointed at San's head. San turned his head just enough to see him, before he looked at you.
"Down?" He asks. He didn't specify what in particular, but with enough context, you were able to piece it together.
"In here?"
"Sure."
"Ugh," you groaned again. "If he is," you finally conceded. You looked out the back window again and, for whatever reason, Yeosang was still standing there. Of all the times to run into him it happened to be when your ex was balls deep into your pussy, of course. Wordlessly, San turned just enough to see him again and raised his hand up, motioning for Yeosang to come in. Yeosang, seemingly, took a deep breath and sighed. He looked at you, showing you a thumbs up and a look as if to ask if it was really okay, and with another roll of your eyes you nodded, and he shrugged, and he walked over. "God, it's about to get so cramped." You grumbled.
"Whatever, not the first time we fucked in this car," San groaned. You made a move to pull off of him, but he held you still while he leaned over and unlocked the car.
"I have, uh, waba grill," Yeosang slides in. "You look hungry, (Y/N)."
"A little, yeah," you nodded.
"Yo, you gonna join us or are you just here to fap?" San leans over to ask him. "Lock the car for me too."
"Yeah, yeah," Yeosang locks the car. "You cool if I join for sure, right?" He asks you.
"Woo might be mad that he's not here," you looked away for a moment.
"Aw, man, Woo doesn't have to know," San reasons.
"Well, whatever," Yeosang tosses his food onto the driver's seat and climbs in the back. "How far are we?"
"Three orgasms... was about to be four until you decided to look in here," you muttered.
"Whoops," Yeo pulls his shirt off and you look away.
"Yo," San whistles lowly.
"You guys suck," you mumbled and San pulled you off of him.
"I'll take a breather, you two have fun," San says. That's... different.
"Huh? You sure?" Yeosang asks and even you were surprised.
"Sure, last time you two get to fuck at least."
"Last?!" You both exclaimed.
"Yup, next time (Y/N) and I'll be official."
"In your dreams, Choi San," you rolled your eyes and turned Yeosang's face toward yours, capturing his lips with yours in an instant. Yeosang matched your rhythm quickly, holding onto your hips with a gentle grip while you moved on top of him.
"Oh," he mumbles. Yup, you both knew it, he was planning something. "Whatever, (Y/N), come here," he pulls you close to him and you press your lips to his.
Okay, you had to admit it, this wasn't the first time you and Yeosang fucked. The first time was because you both got drunk at a party. The second was because he picked you up from a failed date. And the third was now. And yet every time and with every partner, of course, you ended up comparing them to the jackass sitting behind you. Yeosang was gentler in his movements, he had control, easily, but he let you go through the motions. Even now, while you sank your hips onto his, you could feel the motions of him pushing you down too. You held onto both headrests on either side of you when he started to thrust into you, and you fought the urge to clamp your legs whenever he pushed into you just right. Your hands traced up his abdomen, wrapping around either side of his chest while you rode him, in some ways Yeosang was just perfect and if it hadn't been for San then maybe, maybe, this would've felt a little less cruel. Then, you felt San press his hand onto your back and he pushed you down onto Yeosang, close enough that you two nearly fell into a kiss.
"You know, (Y/N)," San whispers in your ear, pressing a small kiss to the shell of it too. "Yeo's had the biggest crush on you since we were kids."
"Come on, man, don't tell her about that," Yeosang's face twists in pleasure. He holds onto you tighter, thrusts becoming more pointed.
"The dude used to cum in socks thinking of you," San laughs. "What do you think? Pussy better than fabric?" San chides.
"San!" You tried to turn to glare at him, but his hand kept your head in place.
"And look at you two now, fucking in the backseat of my car," he continues to taunt. "How's it feel, Yeo?"
"Fuck you, San," Yeosang holds onto your hips tighter and you let out a breathy moan.
"Don't even listen to him," you pressed your lips against Yeosang's, and he kissed back, with both of your hips rolling against each other. Then you felt San's cock rub against you. And when you felt it push against your asshole, you broke off of Yeosang and buried your head in his neck, muffling your moan against his skin. "Fuck," you gripped onto Yeosang's arms and he groaned with every movement. Every time San pushed further into you, you ground down on Yeosang, and with every thrust you moved forward and back between them until he had finally settled in. You lightly chewed on Yeosang's skin, trying to get used to the feeling. Yeosang moaned under you, feeling the difference almost instantly.
"Shit," he clenches his jaw, holding back as much as he could.
"Don't be a little bitch," San growls, wrapping one arm around your torso and pulling you up against his chest, he thrusts into you and you grab onto his arm, your nails digging into his skin with every movement and Yeosang biting down on his hand to stop himself from cumming inside of you. "You cum in her and I'll make sure you regret it, Yeo," San says.
"I'm fucking trying, asshole," Yeosang makes a move to pull out of you but San pushes you down on his cock further.
"Oh god," your hands were on either side of Yeosang now, mind going blank from both cocks moving inside of you. Yeosang pressed open-mouth kisses against your skin, leaving it burning in its path. You turned your head so that you could whisper to him, being sure that only he could hear you.
"Fuck me like you got to me first," you said beneath a moan. Yeosang turns his head to look at you.
"Fuck it," Yeosang shakes his head and grips your thighs, pushing into you at a new pace to match San's, and you fell limp against him, fighting against his own strength to close your legs.
"Attaboy!" San was almost having too much fun with this. "Savor it, lover boy, this is the last time you get to try it." He could be so mean sometimes.
"Fuck! Oh, god, don't stop!" You felt your orgasm building up inside you again, your pussy clenched around Yeosang's cock and your hands dug into his hair while San constantly reminded you that he was there.
"Haa, shit," Yeosang cursed under you. From the way he was moving you could tell he was close and, fuck how amazing it would be to feel him. "Where?" Was all he could get out and, before you could even answer, San pulled you off of him and wrapped his arms under your legs to keep them open.
"Not inside, that's for sure," San said between grunts, he thrust into you at a faster pace now, not being held back by the previous resistance, and your head fell against his neck, just barely able to see through bleary eyes the way Yeosang jerked his cock. You felt your pussy clench around nothing, trying to get some kind of pleasure, any, and luckily Yeosang knew you better than you thought. His mouth wrapped over your clit, tongue circling around the sensitive nub while San continued to fuck into you, and when Yeosang pushed his tongue inside of you you knew you were done for. Your next orgasm hit you hard, so hard that you swear you blacked out for a second before getting pulled back to the reality that was San cumming in your ass. Your legs shook under his hold, and your breaths were heavy and hot. Yeosang sat up, wiping the cum from his chin as he did so.
"No more... I can't..." you shook your head and San pulled out of you slowly, watching the trail of cum follow his dick.
"Yeah, yeah," San was quiet, finally. Yeosang, meanwhile, reached over and grabbed his clothes.
"Well, I'm out," he pulls his shirt on.
"You're leaving already?" You asked with your eyes screwed shut.
"Yeah, exam," Yeosang rolls his eyes, wiping his dick off before shoving it back into his boxers. "Later," he steps into the passenger seat before unlocking the door, he looks back at San. "Also, you're an asshole."
"I know," San holds his hand up until Yeosang leaves. "You staying back here or moving up?"
"Ugh..." you turned so that your head laid on his chest, "can we just stay like this for a bit?"
"Sure," San's hand rests on your back now. "Too hard?"
"Like you care."
"Hey! I'm trying here," his hands rose up momentarily before settling on you again. You pressed a small kiss to his chest.
"Were you telling the truth about Yeo?"
"Oh yeah, big time," he nods.
"That's mean."
"Just how you like it."
"Fuck you."
"So soon?"
"I... ugh..." you closed your eyes again.
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#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez fics#ateez x you#ateez x yn#san x reader#san x you#san x yn#ateez smut#san smut#my writings#smut#choi san x reader#choi san x you#choi san x yn#choi san smut
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Your Midnights, My Daylight - Prologue
art: Yuta - sso_s__ (Twitter), Gojo - unknown
Chapter List
a/n: hmm so, title credits to Tay-Tay for sure. This might turn out to be angstier than expected so hold on fellas! This is just the prologue.
warnings/tags: modern au! Gojo x f! reader x Yuta, profanity, alcohol consumption, love triangle
“You’re so beautiful.”
A pair of azure blue eyes reflected your awe-struck face as they narrowed and formed smiling crescents.
“You really are.”
You remembered the first time Satoru hinted at embers of attraction for you crackling inside him. He was subtle about it but you knew, after all, you had begun to feel something within as well. It was gut instinct. Chemistry. A union meant to be.
Laying side by side on his bed, you touched the young, ethereal man’s face, cupped his cheek and let him know that there was no one else but him for you, no one. He would smile at you, with an expression as sweet as honey and cage you in his arms, stroking your hair. His slender and careful fingers would weave through your locks and put you to sleep with ease as you drifted into dreams, your head tucked away safely under his chin. You were his. All his. That’s what he told you, didn’t he?
Then why?
Why was he dancing in the dim, ugly blue lights of this dreary party, groping her hips and stroking her hair?
You wished you could leave before you witnessed them share a kiss. You wished. Now all the alcohol swimming in your system was threatening to make a reappearance through your mouth. A mutual friend of yours and Satoru’s, Nanami steadied you with a respectful hand.
“You okay there, Y/N? Too much to drink?” he asked, making sure you don’t stumble or throw up on his expensive clothes.
“I-I am— uh, fine” you manage to say, throat drying up quicker than you can swallow your spit. It hurts. It burns. You can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or seeing Satoru and some bitch practically eating each other.
“What the hell is he doing?” you turn to Nanami now. He would know, surely. They are good friends after all. But Nanami looks just as confused as you do, in fact, he looks noticeably uncomfortable. He takes a moment to phrase his answer before sighing and dropping it on you.
“I did say Gojo has tendencies. I warned you.”
Your eyes go wide and you claw at Nanami’s shirt.
“What the hell, Nanami?” you spit out. “I-I thought. But he told me that he—”
“I am sorry Y/N.” he says, avoiding eye contact and pulling you away from his shirt. Damn his expensive shirt. You will definitely throw up on him. “It’s just how it is.”
“What do you mean? You’ve seen him. You’ve all seen him for months! You see how he is with me!” You plead. Who are you trying to convince? Nanami? Megumi, who noticed you yell and is walking over to check? Or yourself?
Can you really trust yourself when you so easily trusted when Satoru told you, “There’s no one but you for me, Y/N.”
"He told you guys that he's dating me now right? He said he's going to make it official!" you say desperately hoping to get some sort of positive response from Nanami but he just purses his lips.
"I am so sorry, Y/N." he says. "He said he never had feelings for you."
Just like that, days would pass. Weeks. Months.
It would take endless days of crying, self-doubt, hiding from friends and peers, rejecting everyone and rejecting yourself. It would take so much more to get yourself back. To look at yourself again and smile again.
You were now over it, over the whole concept of love. Done with men. Completely. You didn't want to see any other guy and definitely not another shade of blue.
When you finally down your first drink, months after that incident, you get a good rant out of you, telling some poor man who was beside you just how filthy and blasphemous men are. You can't trust your memory influenced by alcohol but pretty sure the man had a weird name.. Okk.. Okkot.. Occult?
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#fluff#angst#smut#gojo satoru#anime#manga#fanfiction#nanami kento#yuta okkotsu#okkotsu yuuta#x reader#x female reader#x y/n#x you#headcanon#imagines#scenarios#drabbles#megumi fushiguro
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so for funsies i did the math on the number of notes only eight of these lists has accumulated and somehow we crossed 1k as of yesterday. what - and i mean this affectionately - the fuck? thank you for entertaining a girl who just likes to make lists and be part of things. once again, this got out of hand. oops.
list one. list two. list three. list four. list five. list six. list seven. list eight.
Yours Completely by SatinBirds
“Henry, were you leaving in the middle of the night?” Alex sounds stupefied and furious to his own ears. “Yes.” His voice is hoarse and weak, yet the word is abrupt and final. Blue, helpless eyes finally stare back at him, and there’s desperation in them. “I was.”
assumption by rizcriz
Henry’s distracted when he answers the regularly scheduled biweekly call with his best friend. He’s got an airpod in one ear that he uses to answer the call, and doesn’t even wait for Pez to start talking before he’s venting about his roommate. “I am so tired of being in love with him, Pez,” He says, crawling under his desk and reaching for the pencil he dropped. “He’s so bloody beautiful and kind and today, he made me breakfast. He did research, Pez. Research!” He snags the pencil from the furthest depths beneath his desk and crawls out from beneath it, nearly hitting his head on the way out. “An entire english spread. Bloody bastard. He does all this shite for me and I’m just supposed to not fall in love with him?” He shakes his head as he crawls into his chair, mournfully turning his gaze to the ceiling. “It’s bad enough that he’s so bloody beautiful. How am I meant to cope? I fear I can’t keep doing this.” -- Or, Henry's just really dumb sometimes.
Pride, Prejudice and an (arrogant, insufferable) Prince by DracoWillHearAboutThis
“I wouldn’t dance with him for all of England, not to mention the miserable half.” Netherfield Park is let at last, and Prince Henry manages to step on Alex's toes from the moment they meet. (Or, the Pride and Prejudice AU nobody asked for)
you call the shots babe (i just wanna be yours) by kittentoes
“I wish David were here.” The sigh from his lips rustles one of Alex’s curls loosened away from under the cap. Alex’s eyebrows scrunch together and there’s a new mask edging his features. One Henry can’t quite place in his filmy headspace. “Oh. I thought… Pez said you didn’t have a boyfriend?” The bark of laughter pulled from Henry’s throat is loud and unfettered. The kind of laugh he usually keeps hidden away or stifled behind the guard of a hand against his mouth. “No, no. I mean yes, Pez’s right. But David isn’t–” Another giggle breaks into the words. “David’s a beagle, Alex.” ___ or, Henry gets high, and Alex is everything he's ever wanted.
in need of assistance by stutteringpeach
Henry has a crush on Alex. Arthur can tell.
wanna know that body like it's mine by HypnosTherapy
Henry takes a fortifying breath and sticks his tongue out for Alex to look at. “Okay good, now hold it up like this,” Alex says, holding his mouth open and sticking his tongue up against the roof of his mouth. Henry copies the motion, flinching when Alex grabs his chin and tilts his head up. He hums as he looks into Henry’s mouth, nodding to himself. “Damn, you have the perfect anatomy for a piercing.” Henry’s not even sure if that’s a compliment, but his heart skips a beat. “Thank you.” -- After losing a bet, Henry has to get a tongue piercing. Alex, the incredibly attractive piercer, gets stuck in Henry’s head in more ways than he expected.
Total Collapse by clottedcreamfudge
Henry hates him. This is an immutable fact. So, when they'd been arguing in the third floor break room and the world had started to shake, the last thing Alex had expected was to be saved from a hefty chunk of falling ceiling as it cracked and fractured above them.
These violent delights by lizzie_bennetdarcy
There's an empty corner near the back of the shop, and he tucks himself in. Perhaps he's waiting for his target to walk into the cafe — it wouldn't be the first time. Suddenly, as though a hand has reached out and yanked on his hair, Henry's gaze is lifted and he knows it's who his Senses have been telling him to find. Sitting at the table across from Henry, sinfully long eyelashes lowered as he focuses on the pile of papers in front of him is the most devastatingly beautiful man Henry has ever seen. It's such a shame he has to kill him. Henry is a vampire hunter, with a very intriguing target.
Backseat Serenade by bleedingballroomfloor
"You seriously don't remember?" "Alex, for the life of me, I do not." Alex's face splits into a devilish grin. "Oh, baby." His voice is absolutely sultry. "All I'm hearing is that I gotta make you remember."
One Too Many Mornings by OrchidScript
"Henry Fox had fallen asleep on the beach. Spread out on a worn out wool blanket, sneakers still on his feet and his baseball hat in the sand. The breeze off the ocean, thin and clammy, blew his hair back and forth across his forehead. His substantial height was betrayed by the way he curled over onto his side. His knees tucked up out of the way and his fingers resting limply in the sand. Again." When Alex high-tailed it out of California for O'ahu, he imagined quiet days at the town law firm, mornings surfing the Pacific, and warm weekends out from under his parents' political campaigns. What he gets is all of that, a little contest notoriety, and an annoying neighbor he can't seem to shake.
i like the way that you talk to me by smc_27
The bartender, in his mesh tank top, towel tucked into the back pocket of a pair of jeans, leans on the bar, eyes twinkling, and asks, “What can I get you, sweetheart?”
Five-Drink Henry by @whimsymanaged
Henry’s mouth opens then closes. He can feel a flush creeping over his cheeks, but he does his best to ignore it and hopes Alex will too. “Oh. Hello. Sorry, I’m—hi. Thanks for inviting me.” Alex’s smile only grows, and he steps back to let Henry in. “You’re the first one here. Lucky me. Come on, I’m getting some margaritas going.” Or, Henry’s new neighbour is a party-throwing, margarita-making menace, and Henry’s helpless against his charms.
Acts of Service by TuppingLiberty
After a vacation, Henry shaves Alex’s scruff off, because he loves taking care of Alex.
somehow i'd get by by anincompletelist
Henry should have known, probably, that accepting a job offer from Pez would have its nuances. It’s his own fault that he hadn’t asked more questions, that he hadn’t regarded it as a red flag when he’d had to sign several very thick NDA’s at the onboarding, when Pez had smiled so big and so secretively when they went out to celebrate afterward that Henry had to physically look away from it. Though he’s new to the city, he’d thought that working as an accountant wouldn’t offer all that many opportunities for any sort of overly odd, eclectic jobs. So he’d shown up on his first day at the provided address, a big, nondescript brick building in front of him with a duffel bag full of his sign-on papers, his computer, and a framed photo of his dog, David, ready to take up its rightful place on yet another boring, blank desk. He’d made it all of two steps inside the door before realizing that he’d just accepted a contract working for some kind of sex club. He’d stood his ground despite the burning flush that bloomed on his cheeks and then, miraculously, he’d stayed.
Puck It by kiwiana
“I’m English, dear,” Henry tells him, and fuck if the nickname isn’t doing something to Alex too. “Our national sport is rugby, and we play it with a lot less protective gear. Though,” he adds thoughtfully, “rugby players do wear mouth guards, which means they have the significant advantage of generally keeping all their teeth.” “We wear mouth guards.” It’s a common misconception, and one that annoys the shit out of him. “And I’ve still got all my teeth. Wanna check?”
i run my fingers through your hair and watch the lights go wild by ninzied
in which alex gets his hands on henry’s hair for a change.
Bite Your Tongue On Purpose by Woodsarelovely
“Hey, man. Can I get a black coffee to go?” “Er…” he says – a faintly bewildered expression on his face. “Yes, I imagine so.” Turns out the guy is also British, which is like, whatever. Alex gives him one of his best smiles. “Great, thanks.” Hot Barista glances vaguely around himself, then back to Alex. He looks simultaneously surprised and uncertain, like some kind of aggressively handsome time-traveller who’s been unexpectedly yeeted into a different century. After a beat, he says – “From me?” “Uh yeah. You’re working here, right?” “Well... yes?” Alex tries very hard not to sigh. Great. Looks like he’s dealing with one of those people who are so attractive, they’ve never had the need to develop any kind of personality beyond that of a Tupperware container of room-temperature potato salad. Alex absolutely does not have time for whatever this shit is. *** Five times Henry serves Alex coffee and one time Alex serves Henry.
down the hall, through the door by kwrites
Alex had found his door opening at least once a week, Henry’s tall frame filling the space looking for something or other. The thing is, Henry seemed so well put together all of the time, that him constantly running out of common household supplies or food is so outside the walls of what Alex expects from him. --- or, Henry and Alex are neighbors and Henry has a habit of stopping by unannounced.
as I drop my guard by villageidiot
Henry is so certain about so many things. And then Alex Claremont-Diaz happens.
let him be soft (let him be mine) by congee4lunch
“I’m always cute,” Alex kisses the mole on Henry’s cheekbone. “Yeah? Does your work wife tell you that?” Henry grumbles. “I don’t have a work wife,” Alex breathes out, smiling against his mouth. “Why need one when I got the real deal waiting at home for me,” He licks at the mole on Henry’s upper lip. “All pretty and mine for the taking?” in which henry wants to be alex's wife, in so many words. alex wants all that and more. their relationship ebbs and flows.
(la)cross(e) my heart by weather_stained
Alex is determined to start a lacrosse team at his college. It's his junior year, and he's closer than ever. That is, until he finds out someone else is trying to start a rugby team, and there's only enough funding for one additional sport. Clubs Day comes around, and he finds that his rival is no other than the insufferable Henry Fox. Alex definitely doesn't spent more time staring at Henry instead of running his booth, but if he does, it doesn't mean he's obsessed with him or anything.
Blooming Lovely by Celaestis
Floriography (language of flowers) is a means of cryptological communication through the use or arrangement of flowers. "Yes, but we all know she hates chocolate. I feel like it's harder to say a big passive-aggressive 'fuck you' with flowers, that's all." "Orange lilies," Alex blurts from behind the counter. The man stops, turning his full attention on Alex. Alex realises pretty is an inadequate adjective; he's hotter than the surface of the fucking sun. Y'know, objectively. "I beg your pardon?" ---- 5 times Alex gives Henry flowers, and one time Henry gives Alex flowers.
Something About the Sunshine by schmulte
Henry Fox is a famous musician just breaking out on his own. He's got money, fame, power, everything he could want in life. There's just one problem: he's hiding a big secret. When he meets Alex, the brother of a fan from Texas, one fateful night out in LA, Henry's life will change for the better. AU of the Disney Channel Original Movie, Starstruck.
i ask you how you're doing (and i let you lie) by matherine
The first time Henry sees it happen, he knows instantly that it is not the first time it has ever happened. They’re sitting in the living room of the brownstone, the two of them surrounded by their favorite people in the world, a night of board games long abandoned in favor of mocking the eighth season of Game of Thrones. “God, don’t you have an off switch?” June groans, laughing as she chucks a piece of popcorn in Alex’s direction while he rambles passionately about the international legal implications of the Red Wedding. Nora cackles. “Whatever you do to thank Henry for putting up with you, it’s not nearly enough. Jesus, I can’t believe he put a ring on your loud mouth.” Or: Alex is fine. Really, he’s fine — he just wants Henry to stay, even if Alex is too much. Henry just wants his husband back.
Risk is Just a Board Game by allmylovesatonce
Henry and Alex go out for a fun night out, but it turns into so much more when jealousy gets the best of Alex in ways he's just starting to figure out. When a fight leads to something neither of them ever counted on, a new arrangement is born: friends with benefits. It feels like the perfect solution, even though their friends are positive it'll backfire. When feelings inevitably complicate things, they have to try their best to make it through in one piece.
Taste the Way You Bleed by chamel
“It’s been 427 years,” June says matter-of-factly. Bea nods. “Ever since Alex’s first bi-annual vampire orgy.” Her gaze flickers away from her cards and over to the camera. “Henry got flustered and snubbed him, you see.” “If anyone knows how to hold onto a grudge, it’s Alex,” June sighs. “They hardly spoke for the next two centuries.” Bea plays a card. “Then Pez suggested a change of scenery, and we all moved to Brooklyn.” “Now they’re just Like This.” (A What We Do in the Shadows AU. Two centuries of living together haven't made Alex and Henry any better at getting along, but when a possible vampire hunter moves in across the street, Alex will be dusted before he lets anything happen to his nemesis.)
14:23 by politics_and_prose
Officer Henry Fox and 9-1-1 Dispatcher Alex Claremont-Diaz have one day of work left before their much anticipated honeymoon.
They Were Tentmates! by inexplicablymine
“Due to worsening weather conditions,” Charles takes a deep breath and then puts his hand on his face as if he is rubbing out the deep crease that has formed between his eyebrows, "coupled with the predictive index for the night, we are going to double up on tents. Your tent partner will be the same partner you had in the car on the drive down today, so get comfortable with them. It’s going to be a cozy night.” Alex is a liar. It got worse. So much worse. He turns in horror to Henry as Henry looks up to meet Alex's eyes and grimaces. Great. Tonight is going to be one long night. ______________ Medard might be the Patron Saint of Weather but there was no saving Alex from the fact that he would have to share a tent with that posh pretentious British asshole. Or, an unseemly storm while camping means that in this treacherous tale they are tentmates! (oh my god they are tentmates!)
ace up my sleeve by bananzie
Alex always liked kissing Henry. Kissing Henry was soft and so full of love and life that it made Alex's toes curl. Whether it was over breakfast, after classes, or just because, kissing Henry always made Alex melt just a little more into a puddle of love. Except— Then Henry's hand slipped under the waistband of his sweats to trace the soft skin there, and Alex couldn't stop the stiffening of his spine if he tried.
(i would stay forever if you say) don't go by coffeecatsme
The words echo in his head, unbidden. The words from another life, practically another universe, shoved inside the small walls of a gilded cage, hidden in a room in London with shuttered windows and locked doors. A boy’s voice Henry still remembers ten years later, when he doesn’t quite remember what he had for lunch the day before. A boy’s voice on a phone that understood him better than every member of his family, even an ocean, a continent, three thousand miles away. A boy’s voice that told him in no uncertain terms that it was okay if he wasn’t okay, that allowed him to pave a path until he was. To open a new shelter in New York City, Henry needs to interview a host of potential lawyers to hire. He doesn't expect one of them to be the boy that saved his life ten years ago.
Downburst by cricketnationrise
Amy’s sudden shout of alarm cuts off whatever Zahra was going to say. Alex stares at Amy, uncomprehendingly. His heart is racing, his body already flooding with instinctive fear, brain scrambling to catch up, to process what she said— Cash is at his side between one blink and the next, practically tackling him to the ground and oh— That’s a gunshot.
and i'll lay right down in my favorite place by mangotarts
“Speaking of your boyfriend, all you mentioned was that Alex was watching some show then made some off-hand comment but it wasn’t so off-hand if it’s what landed us here, was it?” Henry clears his throat. “Um, yes, that’s right. He’s been obsessed with this one television series that’s set in seventeenth-century England. I watched a few episodes with him the other night and I will admit, the plot is rather captivating.” Henry glances at Bea and sees that he has all of her attention. He continues, nerves starting to settle into his body when he recalls what Alex said. “We were both immersed in an episode when he suddenly blurted out how good I’d look in the attire of that era.” in which henry takes alex's supposed off-hand comment into consideration and alex is. well, alex is unprepared for the repercussions of his words.
a new name (or two) by viciouslyqueer
Alex jokes about Henry taking his last names, and isn't expecting Henry's reaction.
the poem you make of me by cmere
"Just, you know," Henry says. "If your mum weren't the president and you were just a normal bloke living a normal life, what things might be like? What you'd be doing instead?" After being discovered on Instagram as a teenager, Alex Diaz is thriving as a social media influencer and model who just landed a high profile, high fashion contract with Calvin Klein. Alex can get any girl he wants, and he’s loving it. Meanwhile, British poet Henry Fox has just arrived in L.A. to kick off a North American tour promoting his new, steamy book of gay erotic poetry, and he’s attracting a lot of attention. Bad blood is immediately sparked between them when Henry blows Alex off at their first meeting. Several tabloid rumors and an Instagram tantrum later, Alex and Henry are reluctantly thrust together to make nice, resulting in a grudging friendship and a magnetism between them that Alex can't explain. Why is Henry's poetry making Alex feel like this? And just what is it about Henry Fox that gets to him so much?
Hashtag Soulmates by everwitch
Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated. Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?
Satin and Lace by absoluteaudacity
Henry has a surprise for Alex on his birthday.
I'd Wanna Be Felled By You, Held By You by @sparklepocalypse
In hindsight, Alex should probably have known that letting Henry borrow his clothes for the weekend would absolutely wreck him. But Henry had fretted about his wardrobe being too formal for a casual visit to the lake house, and Alex has developed somewhat of a Pavlovian response to the way Henry’s brows furrow and his mouth pinches when he’s anxious. Once the words “You can just wear my stuff, no worries,” were out there, there’d been no stuffing them back into his mouth. Here’s the thing Alex should’ve taken into consideration: Henry would look hot dressed in a garbage bag. So the morning after their lake house arrival, when Henry steps out of the shower and into a pair of Alex’s swim trunks and Alex’s Arrels Barcelona shirt, Alex takes one look at him and drops his phone. (Movieverse; Henry wears Alex's clothes at the lake house and Alex reacts accordingly.)
i will be back next week with a christmas/holidays/new years list! as always, if you want to be tagged in the future just let me know!
tags: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels
#rwrb#rwrb rec list#firstprince#alex and henry#red white and royal blue#rwrb fanfiction#henry fox mountchristen windsor#alex claremont diaz
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A sem ti Povedal
Hi everyone!! Final chapter of my fanfic universe (big finally haha).
I loved every single bit of this, but it was time to end ^^'
I want to do the Sailor Moon AU so badly lol. And if you don't know anything about Sailor Moon, don't worry, I made most of my AU up so you can still enjoy it without watching the show :)
Now without further ado... Les get into it.
Synopsis: Have you asked how they were doing today? Have you kissed them or hugged them? Have you ever told them that you love the way they smell? Everyone… this is A sem ti povedal. - Jan and Nace wedding celebration party
Disclaimer: Please think of these as characters and not the actual people. I don’t encourage anyone to send this to any of the actual JO members nor do I encourage people to force any type of relationship between anyone.
Bojan looked over to his side. Kris was lying down on the green grass next to him. His hair was neatly cut, his face clean shaved and fully relaxed. He looked beautiful. Although, if you asked Bojan, he’d have preferred plucking each strand of hair off his chin with his teeth himself. It would have been much more fun than Kris using the razor.
He was suddenly met with blue eyes looking at him.
- What? – the guitarist asked.
- Nothing. – he giggled.
- What are you thinking about?
- I’m the luckiest man in the whole world. Just… just look at you!
- What about me?
- I feel like I could fall for you all over again each time you look at me with those eyes.
- You are cheesy. – Kris smiled – Save that for later.
- Oh, I have a lot of things I’d like to say to you once you are off the tuxedo.
The sound of metal hitting glass stopped their conversation. They turned to look at who made that sound, Jure.
- Okay, lovebirds, this is not your wedding that we are celebrating. – he smiled – I’d like to make a speech before I get drunk.
Jure cleared his throat and took out a piece of paper.
- I don’t usually talk much, but you know when I do, I mean it. Today, we are celebrating the wedding of two of my best friends. Jan, Nace, you guys are my best friends. Joker Out brought us together and it made me fall in love with music and traveling in a way I never thought it would.
Bojan lay his head next to Kris, and he kissed him on the temple. Indeed, Joker Out brought them all together. It felt almost as if destiny itself was telling them to keep doing what they loved because that’s where they’d find home—in each other.
- I’d tell you stories of me and Jan before Nace, or of me helping Nace planning dates with things Jan would like.
A couple of people laughed. Jan turned to Nace and said:
- Listen, I love cats, but that doesn’t mean you had to take me to a cat café just because Maček told you that. Igor gets jealous!
- Baby, you are already one with the cats, Igor does not care that much. – Nace laughed it out.
- As I was saying. – interrupted the blondie – I want to wish both Jan and Nace a happy life as a married couple.
He raised his champagne glass and chugged it down.
Martin was up next.
- I met Jan when we were teens, and we grew very close. And if he’s now a graduated mathematician, I think I should be given some credit. – he laughed – Me and Jan spend… a lot of time together and… and I have to say Jan is one the best guys I know. Heart of gold, sometimes he undermines himself, but I know Nace – he turned to the other bass player – you’ll be able to ground him whenever you see he is up in his head space… And if you hurt him… well, you already know. Cheers, everyone.
Jan and Nace got up from their picnic towel and Jure sat down. They both wear black suits adorned by white lace. Jan with a deep green tie, nails painted purple by Kiki, and tied hair. Nace with a dark purple tie and with a green earring.
Jan began his speech.
- I know we already had a bigger ceremony with our extended family… those who came at least.
Nace squeezed his husband’s hand to reassure him.
- But now… in this smaller party we have organized, I’d like to also talk a little about this journey… It hasn’t been easy. Me and Nace can’t marry through the church and in many countries, marriage between two men isn’t something we can’t do at all. Accepting that we would have a harder time married than dating in silence was part of this journey. But man! – he smiled – It was the best decision ever!
Everyone laughed at Jan’s sudden change in attitude.
- Despite the mean comments, and the family members that didn’t show up… I love Nace. I love having him and being able to call him mine. I love having him waiting for me at home with our pets. I love walking around with him and showing him off. I love… all of him. – he said looking down – Because he makes me feel loved.
- Awwwww. – Bojan and Jure said, and the other guests laughed.
Nace kissed Jan’s cheek and cleared his throat.
- I don’t think there’s much else to say. I think I married one of the most altruistic people I’ve ever seen because, even on his wedding day, he asked me how he should share petitions and donation links with our fans to help gay rights such as marriage be accessible in more places around the world. Maybe he is also a little workaholic, but I love his dedication. The face he makes when he’s concentrated on playing or finding new sounds… It’s a sight to see. And I’m the luckiest man in the world to be able to see it every day.
Nace raised his glass and everyone else followed. He entangled his arm around Jan’s they drank from each other’s glass as everyone cheered.
- Now, the bouquet throw. – Jan said.
The girls in the friend group began getting up, but Jan just threw towards Kris’s legs. The taller one raised an eyebrow and carefully picked up the bouquet.
- I’m not sure that’s how this works. – he said.
- My wedding is pretty unusual. Two grooms and no brides so why not change the rules? Besides, you already have the ring on your finger, don’t you?
It was on one of their trips to the Netherlands that Bojan proposed to Kris. He prepared a date with Kris to a park in Utrecht. Kris thought it was weird to have Bojan as the “tour guide” while he was the native of sorts, but ever since Bojan learned Dutch, he has integrated himself quite well amongst the Dutch – despite his height.
“Will you marry me?” the singer asked. Kris said yes on the spot, and they shared it with the band immediately with a photo of the ring taken at one of the bridges.
Bojan picked up the bouquet and put one of the pinkish flowers on Kris’ hair.
- Will you marry me? – he asked.
- Uhm… I don’t know. – the guitarist replied with an ironic smile - Ask me tomorrow. I might say yes.
- So that’s a “mayhaps”?
- It’s a “Ask me tomorrow”.
Kris kissed Bojan and while most people were awed, Jan separated them.
- Come on, this is still my wedding. You guys didn’t even give me a speech. The least you could do is sing a song.
Kris turned around and picked up his acoustic guitar.
- Lucky for you – Bojan said – we already had that planned.
Bojan winked and got up, helping Kris get up in the process.
- Hi everyone. – he said as Kris tunned the guitar – I wrote this song when I was in my early 20’s. It’s a song that I wrote thinking of an imaginary muse… a love letter to someone who I longed to be with. As the years went by, the song took on a different meaning. To me, this muse became synonymous with my now Fiancé. To Jan and Nace, it became synonymous with each other. I’d often see them sing or quote this song to each other when they were together and get lost in each other’s eyes, long before they were in a relationship. And with that…
- Wait. – Kris interrupted – I also want to say some words. This is my best friend’s wedding we are talking about. And it’s also my ex-neighbour’s wedding.
Nace chuckled at that.
- Jan had my back through the best and the worst, and everyone has talked about it non-stop today. And Jan knows I love him a lot, but I’d also like to say some words to Nace. Nace was the person that I could reach when the world and the band were getting overwhelming to me. He was my roommate for most of our tours and I got angry at how slow he takes to get ready and how early he likes to rise in the morning. – they chuckled – but even so, I couldn’t have asked for a better roommate.
- I take it I’m not a good roommate then. – Bojan fake cried but quickly recomposed himself – Everyone, close your eyes… think of someone you love.
As everyone closed their eyes, Kris began playing the first couple of notes. Bojan took a deep breath and proceeded.
- Have you asked how they were doing today? Have you kissed them or hugged them? Have you ever told them that you love the way they smell? Everyone… this is A sem ti povedal.
♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩
And they lived Happily Ever After! The End!
(Just don't look at the next fic if you want to be happy, it's not canon to this universe)
Polaroid Photos Universe | Recommended next: Metulji*
#joker out#joker out jan#joker out nace#joker out jure#joker out martin#joker out bojan#joker out kris#jan peteh#nace jordan#jure maček#martin jurkovič#bojan cvjetićanin#kris guštin#jance#bokris#joker out fanfic#polaroid photos universe
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Lost Boys
Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam
Summary: After Jonathan Lane Kent wipes himself from existence by canceling his own timeline, he finds himself stuck in the afterlife where he meets Jason Todd. He still wonders about the life un-lived on Earth, and how his parents would've felt about him.
Jason Todd, who is making the most of being dead, struggles with the reality of what he's left behind. He has one wish and one wish only: to send his family one final message.
Chapters: 5/?
Characters: Jonathan Lane Kent (Laney), Jason Todd, Catherine Todd, Boston Brand, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, John Constantine, Raven, Talia al Ghul, Ra's al Ghul, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake
Relationships: Platonic JayLaney
Additional Tags: Angst, Platonic Relationships, Magical Jason Todd, Resurrected Jason Todd, Queerplatonic Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, POV Multiple
Chapter Five: Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood (Laney's POV)
Do people in heaven get sick? I wished more and more with every passing day that there was Google or an encyclopedia of sorts for the afterlife. Jason started getting headaches a few weeks after the dance. He tried to hide it from Catherine and me, but we could see it in his eyes. Jason was fading.
After the dance, we sometimes flew over the ocean at the beach, and we'd do cannonballs into the water from the sky. Somedays, all we'd do was laugh and play like children. Other times, we'd sit in the meadow and tell each other all the things we'd say and do if we could live all over again. I told Jason about how I grew up, and he told me all about the things he swore he'd never speak of out loud. He told me about his birth father, about what happened to him after his parents died. He told me things no one knew.
By the time he'd gotten really sick, we were in the meadow watching the clouds. Jason didn't want us to see it, but he couldn't hide it anymore. All we could do was pretend not to see it. "I see a little dog where you saw your turtle," I whispered as I pointed to the sky.
"Now, how do you see a dog there?" Jason asked as he started giggling. "That's obviously a turtle. Lookit. See the shell?"
"Jason, no, he's like one of those short dogs with the wolf ears," I argued, "See, because those little wisps right there, those are his ears."
"We're pointing to two different—." He stopped speaking and sat up. I turned and looked at him, and he looked paler than usual. "Sorry, what was I—. We're pointing at two different clouds, Lane." He took a deep breath and came back to me.
I touched his cheek with the back of my hand, and he took my hand away. "You okay?" I asked. Jason nodded. "I still think it's a dog."
"A corgi? You see a corgi up there?" Jason asked. I nodded. "I guess I could see it... Think my ma's still out on her date?" Jason stood up and stretched out his arms.
I sat on the ground and looked up at him. "Yeah... Are you okay with her dating Boston?" I questioned. "I mean, he's really not that—."
"I know he's not that bad... I mean, I actually think I might like Boston for Ma. He makes her laugh, and he's good to her. He might be the first guy that was ever good to her," Jason replied as he pulled me to my feet. "If Ma's happy, I'm alright."
"Yeah, and you gotta admit he's kind of cool too... I mean, he gets to travel back and forth—."
"Laney, come on. Even if we could go back, I don't wanna leave my ma," Jason interrupted. I nodded.
"Jason?" I called as I walked on my hands just like he taught me. "Can I say that I love Catherine? Is that weird?"
Jason raised his brow and playfully tripped me up with his foot. "How do you mean it? Because if you mean it like that, we might have problems, Lane," Jason joked.
I stood up and pushed him with my shoulder. "No, not like that! I love her like—. I dunno, like how you love her... I think," I explained.
Jason offered to carry me home on his back. I rode on his back, and he let me rest my chin on top of his head. "Jason, were you this strong when you were alive?" I teased. Jason chuckled.
"Yeah, yeah. I may not be the biggest guy around, but I trained hard. I coulda carried you if I wanted to," Jason replied, "Besides, you're Superman's kid. Of course, you'd be taller than me."
We didn't make it all the way home. He stopped to rest, and he stumbled on the way to sit down. "What's wrong?" I asked. Jason shook his head. "Let me carry you the rest of the way," I offered, and he held up his hand.
"I'm fine, just—. I'll catch up with you," Jason whispered. I wouldn't leave him, so I picked him up and carried him home. By the time we got home, he was fast asleep. I set him down on the couch and waited for Catherine to come back. We never slept, so it was so strange to see him unconscious.
He came out of it for a moment, and he chewed me out for carrying him home, but I didn't care. I knew he didn't mean any harm. He stormed out of the cottage, and I let him have his space. I regret that I didn't follow him.
Catherine and Boston came back around sundown, and by then, I was hysterical. "Catherine, I don't know where he went, but he was sick, and I—."
"What do you mean he was sick?" Boston interrupted me. "He can't get sick anymore." Catherine rushed out of the cottage, and Boston nudged me. "He can't—."
"He is! He's sick, and he's fading in and out. It's like he's a—..." I trailed off, and Boston asked me to take him to the places where I hung out with Jason. He wasn't there, so we circled back around to the cottage. Catherine was inconsolable.
"He's nowhere to be f—." She swallowed hard. "I can't find him," she sobbed, and Boston touched her arm and waited for her to collect herself.
"I'll find him," Boston promised her, and I stopped him before he could go anywhere.
"I gotta go with you. If Jason's anywhere on Earth, I can find him. If he's there, I can find him. Please," I pleaded. Boston looked at Catherine, and she nodded. Boston sighed and nodded.
Boston placed a steady hand on my shoulder, and he told me to remain calm. He was going to take me back to the world of the living as a ghost, and I was going to find my best friend.
#fic#batfam#superfam#Jonathan Lane Kent (Laney)#Jason Todd#Catherine Todd#Boston Brand#Bruce Wayne#Clark Kent#Lois Lane#John Constantine#Raven#Talia al Ghul#Ra's al Ghul#Dick Grayson#Tim Drake#Platonic JayLaney#Angst#Platonic Relationships#Magical Jason Todd#Resurrected Jason Todd#Queerplatonic Relationships#Canon Divergent AU#POV Multiple#lost boys fic
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feel the lives that i have taken (what little soul that i have left) [gift fic]
Explicit★OMC Ship★2250 words★Complete
Okay so this is actually a gift fic I wrote for Niko months ago for his birthday and I just??? Never posted it??? But hey, want to post it now!
Happy (not belated because I wrote it on time) Birthday Niko!
Sam: mine
Dom: @patchworkgargoyle
Tags & CW: Pirate!AU (specifically Davy Jones type nonsense), rough sex, unsafe sex, Davy Jones!Sam being heartbreaking
Sam stared at the stars shining through the clear night between the masts. They were floating in the Locker, so the stars were different than the ones Dom would have seen back home. The world around them was quiet, as quiet as the sea could be (which was nearly silent there).
Their conversation had been long, meandering and inconsequential, where they both said many things but told each other barely anything at all. It had started while they waited for Dom’s merfolk friends and their news from his former captain— ‘His true captain,’ Sam corrected himself internally— and then eventually, somehow, they found themselves sitting on the deck for the rest of their conversation.
Sam wasn’t sure when they laid down, but soon enough he was on his back, watching the stars with Dom. They were laying in such a way that their heads were next to each other, but their bodies were stretched out in opposite directions; whenever they turned their heads to face each other, it almost looked like Dom was upside-down. One time when they looked at each other, Sam couldn’t help the little laugh that left his throat, and the way Dom grinned before covering his mouth and looking back up at the stars again had the void in Sam’s chest aching.
“Fuck, it’s beautiful,” Dom sighed, gesturing at the sky with his chin.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed easily without looking away from Dom’s profile, tearing his gaze away just before the other man glanced at him again. Before he could think better of it, Sam said, “I wish I'd met you under different circumstances, Dominik.”
Next to him, the man went very still. It wasn’t like he moved a lot, especially when they were quiet like this, but there was still a very noticeable lack of movement now.
“Why?” Dom’s voice was quiet, patient in the way beautiful, deadly creatures of the sea were. One misstep in the conversation that followed would have Dom storming off to his quarters and unlikely to speak to Sam like this again for weeks.
Lifting a hand to his chest, Sam stroked the tip of his forefinger up and down the jagged, messy scar that was there, exposed to the night air with the open neckline of his shirt.
“I want to kiss you, but it feels wrong to want that since you hate being here,” he admitted, clenching his jaw as he squinted up at the stars. “It feels cruel to even admit it to you now.”
If Sam had thought Dom was still before, he now knew he was mistaken. Sam wasn’t even sure if Dom was still next to him, that the man hadn’t turned to mist and disappeared completely.
“What circumstances would you have preferred meeting me under?” Dom asked after a few long moments and Sam couldn’t tell if he wanted to sigh with relief or grimace.
“I wish I had met you a century ago, before I became this,” he admitted, too quickly to play it off like he hadn’t thought about it a thousand times. Then, a bit quieter, he added, “or after you actually died, while I was ferrying your soul through the Locker. You could’ve asked to join my crew, to be here.”
His words were met with more quiet and stillness from Dom, and Sam let out a tired, sad sigh.
“I should have declined your captain’s deal, Dominik. Ignored their summons. I have rules and I broke them,” Sam continued when Dom didn’t ask another question. “Now you’re miserable, separated from everyone you love— your partner, your captain, your family— and I have the audacity to desire you as if I haven’t taken enough from you.”
There was another beat of silence, long enough that Sam started moving to get up. In a flurry of movement that was too fast for Sam to see and almost too graceful to be fully human, Dom spun around and was on top of him, pressing his mouth desperately against Sam’s.
Sam didn’t waste a single moment to hesitation, immediately tangling a hand in the hair at the back of Dom’s head. His mouth opened under Dom’s questing tongue as his other arm wrapped around his waist. Sam wasn’t sure how long that first kiss lasted, but when they pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their mouths red and wet.
It couldn’t be helped, the pang of hopeful sadness that thrummed deep in the empty void of Sam’s chest as he stared up at the beautiful man on top of him.
Dom’s expression twisted subtly, as if he was about to say something sharp, but when he opened his mouth, he said, “I hate this less because of you. It’s… better because of you.”
Before Sam could properly process those words, Dom was kissing him again and he couldn’t help but meet the ferocity in kind.
When he felt his body begin to stir below the belt, Sam didn’t even pull away from the kiss to ask, “How far are we taking this, sweetheart?”
Dom shuddered. “Don’t have to go further than your bed, but I can take you right here if you want,” he responded, words muffled against Sam’s lips as he began to grind their hips together.
With a bright laugh, Sam began tugging at Dom’s clothes insistently. “Have to get this out of the way then,” he hummed before wrapping both hands around Dom’s hips to hold him in place while he rocked his hardening cock up against him.
Dom’s response was immediate; a sharp gasp as he sat up straight, head thrown back as he rode out the sensation of their dicks pressed together through their layers of clothing. With another soft sound, Dom’s hands reached down to start pulling at the ties of Sam’s pants, getting them open so he could get his smallclothes out of the way as well. When Dom’s hand closed around the shaft of his cock, he gasped and looked down at Sam hungrily.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dom all but whimpered, squeezing Sam before slowly stroking him.
Smirking, Sam rumbled out a low, “Flatterer.”
Impatient now that he had Dom’s hand on him, Sam managed to rip the seams of the man’s pants and smallclothes open. With clothes out of the way, Sam returned his hands to Dom’s hips and dragged him down against him, rocking the length of his cock up and down the seam of Dom’s dripping cunt.
He wanted to see what sort of noises he could drag out of Dom just like that, but soon the teasing pleasure became too much for even Sam to bear. Tightening his grip on Dom’s hips, Sam rocked him back while he ground his cock up against his dick. Then, as he pulled Dom’s hips forward again, the head of Sam’s cock passed over the dripping opening of his cunt. Timing his next thrust while guiding Dom’s hips back again, Sam sunk inside the man’s wet cunt until he bottomed out.
“Fuck!” Dom shouted happily, rapturously even, before he slapped a hand over his mouth. His other hand was braced on Sam’s chest now, his nails digging into the skin around the scar.
Without pulling out, Sam rolled them until he was looming over Dom, giving him a few brutal thrusts before dragging the man’s hand away from his own mouth.
“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” Sam ordered in a low growl, nosing at the underside of Dom’s jaw as he got his thumbs hooked under the man’s knees and slowly folded him in half beneath him. “Let the whole Locker hear you.”
After that, everything went a bit fuzzy as he fucked Dom right there on the deck of his ship. From that point on, Dom was plenty vocal, moaning and whining under Sam, clinging to him and screaming his praises for Sam’s cock. Sam was desperate to keep him at that high, to drag Dom through as many orgasms as he could manage before letting himself come apart completely.
By Sam’s count, he managed to fuck Dom through two releases before he finally let himself go, pumping Dom’s perfect cunt full of his cum. He shivered at the way Dom sobbed out, “Jones!”
A large part of Sam wished, not for the first time, that Dom knew his actual name.
Pulling out before the aftershocks of his own release were fully over, Sam crawled down Dom’s body and pressed his tongue inside the man’s sloppy cunt, moaning at the taste of them together there. With single-minded purpose, Sam ate his own cum out of Dom, and when he was done with that, he took Dom’s pretty little dick between his lips. Sam worked him until he came with a shattered scream that was guaranteed to wake up half the crew.
A few minutes later, Sam was catching his breath, cheek resting on a shivering, pale thigh while Dom played with his hair. The position wasn’t particularly comfy on the ground, but Sam was content to stay put for as long as Dom wanted.
“Why didn’t you keep to your rules?” Dom asked after a few beats of quiet, and Sam looked up the line of Dom’s body. The man was watching him, frowning slightly despite the blissed-out expression he was still somehow wearing. “When Kez summoned you?”
Sam let out a slow breath and kissed Dom’s thigh. “It was clear how much that entire crew cared about you. I haven’t seen a crew so united around a single person outside my own, so I was intrigued. Moved, you could say, even. I wanted to know what sort of person rallied such loyalty,” he said after some thought before smirking. “Imagine my surprise when you turned out to be a massive cunt.”
There was a deeply sad twist to Dom’s expression that brought back Sam’s regret full force all over again. The guilt was even worse with the sweat of their coupling still cooling on their skin. At Sam’s jab, Dom visibly stifled his sadness under a laugh, kicking at Sam ineffectually and saying, “You asshole!”
Kissing Dom’s thigh one last time, Sam crawled back up the length of the man’s body until he could cup his cheek and meet his eyes properly. “I’m not necessarily sorry that you’re here, but I am sorry that you’re trapped. If I had the power to free you, I would. If you believe only one thing I say, please believe that.”
Dom squirmed under Sam’s intensity and nodded. “I believe you,” he said after a moment, and he looked almost like he was surprised that he meant it. Then he asked, “Would I be able to visit them at least?”
Sam considered that for a moment; it was risky letting the Dutchman be seen too often, especially near other ships. That was how inconvenient legends started to resurface. It would be safer to do it on the open sea, to locate Dom’s crew and let him off the ship for a couple days. They wouldn’t be able to leave with Dom in tow because his life was tied to the Dutchman, so there was no real worry of them running off.
But that just reaffirmed all of Sam’s guilt. Meeting on the water felt like he was just extending the boundaries of Dom’s prison without allowing him any real freedom. He wasn’t getting away from Sam, and there was always that chance that Sam might be spying or could appear out of thin air. Dom’s real crew would never relax.
The sea was Sam’s domain.
“Pick a port, pick a date, and send a letter to your crew. I’ll make sure you’re there to meet them,” Sam said, his tone firm with his decision, ignoring the way that Dom’s eyes widened. “We can test how long you can be off the ship before you start fading.”
“You can’t make port! That’s too dangerous,” Dom insisted, and Sam’s chest ached where his heart should be.
“The closest to freedom I can give you is arranging to meet your crew on land, Dominik. I cannot follow you, so you will be completely alone with them,” Sam explained softly, stroking a knuckle across Dom’s cheekbone. “You can spend as much time with them as the curse allows.”
Dom stared up at Sam, frowning at him as he thought. Eventually, though, his expression softened, and he pulled Sam into a slow, almost sweet kiss.
“Thank you, Jones,” Dom whispered against Sam’s lips, and that soft gratitude broke down what was left of Sam’s resolve.
“Sam,” he whispered between their mouths. “My name— before I was Davy Jones, my name was Sam.”
Dom pulled away and stared up at him, almost alarmed. “You give too much away, Captain.”
At that, Sam just laughed and shrugged. “I’ve told you already that I’m tired, that I’m not concerned about my secrets coming to light, even if that means I finally get my turn to be ferried across the Locker,” he said almost flippantly.
Dom frowned and shook his head a bit. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he eventually said, pulling Sam back into a slow kiss before adding, “but thank you. It’s— fuck, just, thank you, Captain.”
There was a pang in Sam’s chest again at Dom’s subtle refusal to use his actual name, but at least he didn’t use Jones. Sam wouldn’t push him on it, he decided.
Letting it go, Sam pulled Dom into another kiss and whispered, “Of course, Dominik.”
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eat your young | the games pt 3
tags: hunger games!au, fake dating, angst warnings: death, violence, blood, gore, probably inaccurate medical stuff (its fiction shut up) wc: 4.4k an: you are legally obligated to NOT be mad at me
m.list
That’s two more gone. Ten remain. Half of them are careers. You stare at the fire blankly.
You don’t want to be on this island anymore. You don’t want to think about how Wonwoo died less than thirty feet away, but you know on this island you can get fresh water and a good supply of food, so you don’t dare move the boys.
“Y/N-ah.” Jihoon’s voice is soft as he approaches you. He sits down next to you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You slightly melt into his arms, enjoying the safety of his arms locked around you, just for a moment.
“I’m okay Ji, I just need a minute.”
“I know, I know. I just wanted to tell you that Hansol and I are going to sleep soon. Please don’t stay up all night. Wake one of us up to take watch, okay?”
You nod. “Let Hansol-ah into the sleeping bag tonight, okay?”
“Okay. Don’t forget to put the fire out soon.” Jihoon presses a kiss to your forehead. It’s the first time either of you have shown any physical affection other than hand holding or cuddling at night. The feeling lingers there even after Jihoon gets up.
You huff. That’s another problem that you don’t want to worry about. The stupid crush you have on your fake boyfriend. You think you may have had a crush on him even before either of you were reaped, but now it’s real. It’s not just a passing crush on the idea of someone. No, now he’s here and real and holding your hand and kissing your forehead and making your heart go crazy.
You don’t think it’s healthy to feel this many emotions at once. Being in the Hunger Games is not for the faint of heart, you will say that.
You grieve for Wonwoo. He was your friend and your ally and he saved your life. By morning though, you will be back to good and ready to assess the next problem that arises. You have to be if you want to keep Jihoon and Hansol safe. You have to push all personal emotions aside so you can think properly and just get through the next challenge.
It’s late when you put the fire out. It’s way past the nightly recap. You didn’t bother watching tonight. You sit in the silent dark and stare at the moon. It’s not real, just another thing made by the Gamemakers, but it still brings you some comfort.
You think about your family. You hope your sister is sleeping right now. You hope your father isn’t worrying too much about you. Joshua is probably up right now. He’s always been a night owl.
“Hey Shua,” you whisper into the night. You use your old nickname for him. The one you gave him when you two were in elementary school. You’ve graduated to calling him ‘Josh’, especially in public, but every once in a while you’ll revert back to the old nickname. It helps remind you both of your past together and how far you have come.
You’re not sure if he’s going to be watching. He was never someone who would watch intently. Neither were you, but you kept more tabs on things than he did. Maybe he’s watching just because it’s you. Maybe he’s not watching for that exact reason.
“I miss you. I miss you a lot. You know after thirteen years of friendship you’d think we’d be tired of each other, yet it’s only been a week away from you and it’s like I’m going crazy. It’s hard not having you here. It’s like a part of me is missing. Well, not like. A part of me is missing. You.
“Remember when you used to accompany me during work and you’d complain about it the whole time while I chopped down tree after tree, but you stayed because it meant we could spend more time together? I wish we could go back to doing that. Jihoon and Hansol are good company, but they’re not you. I’ll love you forever, my Shua-yah.”
You’re pretty sure the Capitol isn’t going to air your little speech. You don’t care though. It makes you feel better being able to talk to Joshua in some way.
The rest of the night you wonder what District 7 has been up to. When the sunrises you look over and smile softly at the sight of Jihoon and Hansol in the sleeping bag. They’re adorable smushed together with their sleeping faces.
You stand up and all of your bones crack from sitting in the same place the whole night. You stretch your body out and grab the bag. You find the tap and put it in a tree before collecting water for the day.
You hear rustling coming from behind you and soon arms are wrapping around your waist, a sleepy face pressed to your back. “You didn’t sleep last night.”
“I’ll sleep later, after Sol wakes up.” You lean back into Jihoon’s embrace. “I wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways.”
“Remember, you have to take care of yourself too.”
Jihoon’s words make your mind flash back to your final conversation with Soonyoung.
Promise me one more thing? Take care of yourself as well, yeah? I know your new focus is on Jihoon, but you’re important too.
You know that if you don’t care for yourself, you won’t be much help to Jihoon either. It doesn’t matter if you actually take care of yourself to take care of yourself, it won’t matter in the end. You need to be at your best for Jihoon though.
You turn around so you can face him. His hair is a mess and you reach up to fix it. “Let’s go to the shore today. I wanna wash in the water.”
Jihoon nods, though you have a feeling he’s only half listening. You lean down and kiss his forehead, as payment for the one he gave you last night. As you and Jihoon are in your own little world, you can hear Hansol starting to wake up as well.
Jihoon squeezes you once more. “Go sleep. We’ll go to the shore later.”
You nod. With a yawn you climb into the sleeping bag, and let sleep overtake you.
When you wake up, it’s way past noon. The sun shines bright in your eyes and you crawl out of the sleeping bag. Hansol and Jihoon are both lounging about and both perk up when they see you’re awake.
You three walk down to the shore where you get into the water. You clean your body off from all of the dirt and grime and blood from the last few days. The salt water still doesn’t leave you feel completely clean, but it’s something.
Hansol and Jihoon do the same and you’re all feeling slightly better afterwards. You stand on the sand, waiting for them to finish up. You glance over at the island in the middle of everything. You can see the glint of the metal Cornucopia in the distance. The place where all the careers reside.
“Y/N-ah,” Jihoon pulls you from your thoughts. “Ready to go back?”
“Yeah.” You pull your eyes away from the Cornucopia and grab Jihoon’s hand.
Another canon goes off later that evening. You guys are sitting around the fire, eating roasted nuts that Hansol found. The sound of the cannon doesn’t make you jump anymore, but it still caches your attention.
There are only two other non-career tributes out there. You wonder if it was one of them. You don’t have to wonder for too long because the nightly recap starts. When you look up at the sky you’re not expecting to see a career.
The picture of the District 4 boy you attacked on the very first day sits high in the sky. Hyunwoo? Something like that. You wonder if his leg injury got to him, or something else did. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is there are now only four careers left.
The night is peaceful. The next morning is as well.
You find a hunk of wood and grab a knife. You’re not sure who’s knife it is anymore, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re glad one of your hobbies can be done with even the simplest tools you have available to you.
The Capitol citizens have to be finding this funny right now. People are dying and you’re sitting here carving wood.
“Hey, that’s my song,” Jihoon says. Your concentration is broken and you look up at him.
“What?”
“You were humming,” Jihoon explains.
“Oh, sorry. Force of habit.” Whenever you’re working you end up humming a song. You don’t know many songs though, so you always go back to the same two or three you’ve heard Jihoon singing.
“Don’t apologize, I like hearing it.” Jihoon looks a bit shy and you think it’s adorable.
“You two are gross,” Hansol says, breaking the moment. “It was better when Wonwoo was here, so I had something to focus on that wasn’t you two.”
You laugh lightly. “Sorry Sollie, we’ll tone it down.”
You don’t want to tone it down though. You want to keep it going. You want to do more and have more and be more.
The rest of the afternoon is quiet. Then evening comes.
While everyone is sitting around, you sit up from where you’re leaning against one of the trees. There’s a rustling of leaves and in an instant you’re up on your feet. There’s a flash of something and suddenly you’re pulling both Jihoon and Hansol up, pushing them ahead of you.
“Mutts!” You yell out and start to take off at a full running pace. You glance behind you and quickly look away. It looks to be a mutation between a rhino and a large feline. It has the horn and build of a rhino, but the coat, teeth, and paws of a jungle cat. There’s only one, but it’s large and fast and you’re doing your best just to get through the thick foliage of the jungle.
The only thing that makes you feel even a sliver better about this situation is that you can clearly see Jihoon and Hansol in front of you. As long as you’re between them and the mutt, everything will be okay.
You’re a bit too focused on the boys though, because you trip. You land with a hard thud on the ground and you can barely even think before the mutt’s on you. You let out a scream as it tears sinks it’s claws into your arm.
It doesn’t let up and you’re sure you’re going to die. You feel something digging into your side and you remember your axe is on your belt. You struggle to detach it from your belt. As you do so, the mutt moves and grabs right onto your leg with it’s teeth. You’re sure if it wasn’t for the sheer panicked state of adrenaline you’re in right now you’d be dead.
With a cry you lift your axe and slam the blade down into the skull of the mutt. The mutt’s teeth loosen up on you and falls dead. Your arms fall limp as well and you do your best to remember to breathe.
Your ears are ringing and you can hear the faint sounds of Hansol and Jihoon but your vision is starting to go and you’re scared. You’re so, so scared.
Jihoon can’t breathe. There’s a lump in his throat and a stab in his heart and you’re going to die and Jihoon can’t breathe.
He sinks down next to you and cradles your head in his lap. There’s fear in your eyes and that scares Jihoon the most, because he doesn’t think he’s seen you scared a day in his life.
“J-Ji,” you call out to him.
“Shhh, shh, I’m here. Hi, baby, I’m here.”
A tear rolls down your eyes and Jihoon quickly moves to brush it away. He doesn’t feel too far away from crying himself. There’s so much blood. So much blood and your leg doesn’t even look like a leg anymore and you’re breathing is slowing and you’re gasping for air.
“Ji, Ji,” you sob, tear freely falling now, “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die anymore. Please Jihoon.” Your fingers dig into Jihoon’s arm, pleading for his help in some way.
“Shh, shh, you’re okay, it’s okay, you’re not going to die. I- you’re fine. We’re gonna be fine.” Jihoon tries to keep the panic out of his voice as he comforts you, but he knows he’s failing. “I- Soonyoung please help.”
Jihoon cups your face with his hands, and brushes his thumb over your cheek, hoping to calm you some. Jihoon leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. The taste of salt and dirt linger on his lips.
Ding.
A parachute falls down next to Hansol. He quickly picks it up and opens it. Inside is a plethora of medical supplies and Hansol quickly gets to work. Death may work quick, but Kwon Soonyoung works quicker.
“My mom’s a medic,” Hansol explains quickly as he feeds you a couple pills. “I don’t know as much as she does, but I can do this.” His hands are shaking, but Jihoon doesn’t have a doubt in his mind that he can save you.
Hansol takes a piece of cloth and ties it around your thigh and uses a stick to twist until it’s tight. Jihoon’s never seen a medical procedure like it before but he assumes it’s to cut off blood so you don’t lose even more than you already have.
He then moves on to your arm. He takes some of your water reserves and cleans off your arm before grabbing the needle and thread that was already in your first aid kit grabbed from the Cornucopia. His fingers are still a bit shaky as is his breath as he stabs into your arm the first time. It seems like he’s also trying to keep himself from crying, the only thing stopping him is having to stitch you up. It’s clearly a novice job, but Hansol eventually patches up your whole arm.
Despite your arm being taken care of, your leg is still mangled. Jihoon can’t look at it for too long or he’ll actually throw up. He can see a bit of bone though and it’s all meaty and bloody and slightly bent out of shape.
Even Hansol looks disgusted as he looks down at it. Inside the container that Soonyoung sent is some ointment, but Jihoon isn’t sure how much that can help when you have a literal chunk of your leg gone. Still Hansol rubs it onto your skin where he can and then wraps and splints your leg.
You’ve calmed down and your breathing is soft, but steady, and Jihoon thinks it has to do with the medicine Hansol fed you at the start. Jihoon has been petting your hair the whole time, watching Hansol meticulously. There’s a tight feeling in his chest and it doesn’t go away until your body shifts just the slightest bit.
You weakly reach out for Hansol and he helps you by grabbing your hand in his. “Th-thank you.”
Jihoon’s thankful for Hansol and Soonyoung as well, but he also knows that if you don’t real help soon, you won’t make it much longer. The suffocating fear that you’re going to die creeps up Jihoon’s throat and he does his best to swallow is back down.
From that start, it was clear you were going to die. You were going to lay down your life to say Jihoon’s. It was something he had to come to terms with. Now that he’s faced with the reality of it though, he can’t accept it. Not yet. He’s not ready to let you go yet. He needs more time.
So maybe he likes you. Maybe he’s always been a little interested in you. The strong, reliable woodsman from District 7. Now you two are here together and he has you but he’s about to lose you and he can’t handle it.
Hansol gets up and leaves to go back for the supplies. Jihoon’s took shaken to do anything other than pet your hair. Hansol comes back soon and Jihoon finally gets up.
Together they make a shelter. They tie the tarp to a couple trees like a lean-to and put branches and leaves over it so it’s more hidden.
Your face isn’t in the sky when night falls though, and that’s all that matters right now.
The night is long and Jihoon doesn’t sleep a wink. He can’t, too busy monitoring you. When morning comes Jihoon finally gets a good look at you in full light. Your skin looks dull and sickly and Hansol’s stitching on your arm looks even worse in the broad daylight.
Jihoon takes a peek down at your leg. It’s still all bandaged up and Jihoon can’t even imagine the monstrosities that lay under the coverings. Jihoon can only hope that more medicine will be sent soon.
You’re sleeping right now and Jihoon keeps a hold on your hand, but only so he can keep his fingers pressed to your pulse. It’s slow and faint, but it’s there.
Soonyoung sent the group a good portion size of soup and Jihoon must think the sponsors feel bad for them. Jihoon doesn’t really care, as long as it helps you stay alive.
The next few days are slow. Other killings happen, but to other tributes, and Jihoon doesn’t really care as long as it’s not you. None of it’s okay, this whole situation is fucked up, but deep down Jihoon knows that every canon that fires gets you and him closer to winning. To surviving.
You spent most of your time sleeping. Jihoon doesn’t care though, because it seems little by little your strength is coming back. Especially with the extra healing cream Soonyoung sent. It came with a note to Jihoon to keep it up and Jihoon thinks it relates to the fake dating act they’re putting on.
Jihoon’s cried multiple times since you got attacked and he spends all of his time coddling you. Soonyoung must think Jihoon is putting on an act for the camera and the Capitol is eating it up, but little does Soonyoung know that Jihoon is genuine in everything he does. Every forehead kiss, every hand squeeze, every sweet word, he means it.
The cream is doing its job though and you’re slowly starting to recover. Your arm has healed nicely and you’re able to stand and even walk a little bit, but your leg is still messed up and it bothers you if you use it too long. Capitol technology is a wonder, but it’s still not perfect. But you’re alive, and that’s all that matters right now.
It’s down to seven tributes. You think about how that means there’s going to be family interviews. Your dad and your sister and Joshua. You miss Joshua. You’re glad the leg that got fucked up isn’t the one that has your bracelet on it because you’d honestly be more upset about the bracelet than your leg.
You’ve been dying lately though. Jihoon keeps coddling you, and it’s not that you don’t like it, but you so desperately hate being a sitting duck. You made Hansol find you a large stick that you’ve carved into a walking stick for you.
You force yourself to get up and walk every once and while. It’s been four days since you got attacked and you’ve been doing nothing for too long. Another island has sunk since then and two tributes have died, one being the other District 1 girl. Nayeon, maybe? That means it’s just three careers, your group of three, and one more tribute left.
The three careers left are the ones you like the least. Seungcheol and Jeonghan from District 2, and Mingyu from District 4. Not only do they have disgusting personalities, but they also pose a large threat to your group, especially now that you’re injured. If you don’t get your leg back in working shape soon, your whole group is in a lot of danger.
It’s the next day when you realize that you’re just about out of food. Your leg has been screaming at you since you woke up and even with the painkillers Hansol keeps feeding you, your leg is still killing you.
“We need stuff,” you groan.
“We’ll go get it, you rest,” Jihoon tells you.
“No,” you protest. “My leg is so stiff, I need to move it. Please. It’ll be okay.”
“No. Remember, you need to take care of yourself. I’m not kidding this time Y/N. Hansol and I will be back soon with food. If I found out you’ve moved from this spot, I’m not going to be a happy boyfriend.” Jihoon’s commanding voice and the use of the word boyfriend has you shutting up.
Jihoon drops a kiss on your forehead before he and Hansol head out in different directions. Just a week ago you were roaming these woods with Jihoon and killing a hog together. Wonwoo was still with you guys and he and Hansol were out finding you guys nuts and fruits. So much has changed since then.
You sigh and reach for the bag. You can luckily grab it without much effort and you grab your piece of wood and your knife out of the bag. If you can’t do anything, the least you can do is go back to your carving.
The sun is starting to move and you’re wondering where the boys are when you hear a blood curdling scream. It sounded like Hansol.
“Sol?” You call out experimentally. No response. He didn’t sound that far away. Dread starts to fill you. Something isn’t right. “Sol?” You struggle to your feet and look around frantically. Where is he?
"Y/N! Y/N!" The voice is panicked and high pitched and it makes your older sibling mode kick into gear. As quickly as you can, you start to race through the trees. Pain shoots up your leg, but you keep going. You’re not sure where you’re going but you need to find him.
"Sol-ah? Hansol!”
You nearly miss it. Nearly miss him while running, but a glint catches your eye and you sprint over. Lying on the ground is Hansol’s body, blood soaks his jumpsuit and his eyes are barely staying open. The glint you caught was his knife, still in his hand. His leg is tangled up in some jungle vines.
“Y/N?” Hansol reaches his hand up and you drop to your knees and grab onto his hand and pull it to your chest.
“What happened? Who did this?”
“The District 2 boy. I got caught in the vines. He found me and I tried to fight him off with the knife but he overpowered me.” His voice is soft, and his breathing is unsteady, his words taking a while to come out.
“I can save you. Like you saved me. I can fix this, just-”
Hansol clutches your hand tighter. “No Y/N, you can’t. You can’t save us all, it’s okay. Jihoon should win.”
You can’t save him. Hansol is going to die and you couldn’t protect him. You grab your axe and start to cut the vines away from his leg. When he’s finally free, you scoop him up and start to walk towards the edge of the island. Your leg is screaming at you, begging you to stop, but you can’t pay attention to it. You can’t when you have to focus on Hansol.
You set Hansol down on the sand and cradle his head in your lap. You don’t care if it’s fake, if it’s just made by the Gamemakers, Hansol deserves to have this. The sky is a myriad of colors over the ocean and you pet Hansol’s hair, trying not to drop tears on him.
It isn’t fair.
“It’s okay Y/N.” Hansol’s hands reach up to grab your face. He uses his last bit of strength to pull you face down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He pats around his jacket pocket before pressing something into your hand.
You press your hands over Hansol’s as his eyes go blank and his arms go limp. You close his eyes and hold his body tight to yours. A cannon goes off. You don’t move until you hear a hovercraft coming to take Hansol. You gently lay his body down and back away as he’s lifted into the air. Your own outfit is now dirty with his blood and your leg is now even worse than earlier, but you don’t care.
You look down at your hand and sitting in your palm are two matching bracelets. Faded, worn leather braided together. District tokens. You clutch them close to your chest. One belonged to Hansol, the other to Chan, his district partner.
“Y/N? Hansol? I heard yelling.” Jihoon pushes through the trees but stops when he sees you on the sand. “Y/N…?”
“He- he- I didn’t even know they were on the island. I don’t know where they came from or where they went but I couldn’t save him and now he’s-,” you can’t continue, your words getting caught in your throat. You wonder if the pain in your chest will be enough to kill you.
“Oh, oh. Oh no.” Jihoon quickly moves to you, sinking down to his knees as well. You bury your face in his chest and sob. Jihoon cries too. Soft, silent tears, his chest taking shaky breaths every once in a while.
You cry and you cry and you cry until it’s it dark out and then you eventually just…stop crying. You’re too dehydrated and your head hurts and you know that crying won’t do anything. It won’t bring Hansol back, and at it sure as well won’t help you avenge his death.
Jihoon helps you back to the shelter and you basically fall to the ground as soon as you get back. Pain is overtaking your whole body and as soon as you hit the ground your eyes white out and the world goes black. Your last thought before you pass out is that there’s only six people left now, and District 2 is going to get it.
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@monthly-challenge 2024 | First kiss
Pairing: Non-idol!Wooyoung; Fem.!reader
Genre: Best friends to lovers, au, comforting, fluffy
Summary: Wooyoung feels more than he wished towards his bestfriend, he didn't want to tell you yet, but something happened
Or
Y/N loves being around her bestfriend and he happens to be your safe place in storm days;
Warning: Panic attack due to a storm, cute Wooyoung dealing with scared reader, cute kiss in some points, not romanticizing PA (I have some crisis due to storms and loud sound, so I'm writing what I feel).
Word count:
A/N: Monthly prompt Challenge it's here and I'm soooo happy to be a part of it 🥺
He's just as moody as a stormy day — and that's why I hate loving him that much.
"Hey, Wooyoung!" You said surprised, as you exit on your front door and finds your bestfriend just laying there.
"Oh, Y/N. What's up? I thought you were going to stay home today. Y'know, due to the storm alarm." He seemed worried and it just clicked your curiosity. He remembered you're afraid of thunderstorms?
"Nah, I'm fine, boo. Just going to shop some things to survive those stormy days." He nodded, not trusting you at all.
"Are you sure you don't want me to sta—" He tried to say something, but he was harshly interrupted by a loud thunder all of a sudden, thing that made you shrug your shoulders in fear. "I'll stay." He said, never waiting for a reaction on you.
He enters your house, leaving the supermarket bags on the ground. He holds your wrist in such delicate way it feels like a feather touching your skin, and then he closes the front door, locking it up while he still holds you.
Just as he was dealing with a little kid, he give you little pat on the top of your head and try to smile to your scared features.
"Here, let me help you to go to your safe place."
He knew everything about you and your fear, what you usually make to deal with your trembling fears. He take you to your bed, already full of plushies, and when he finally sits you on the soft mattress, the power turn off and another thunder came so loud that made you close your eyes.
"Hey..." he tried to calm you down, rubbing in a lovingly way his hot hand on your arm, finally leaving your wrist.
"Wooyoung..." You finally whispered, your voice clearly shaking, showing him the way you were crying so hard.
You could feel his hot presence when he approached you, passing his arms through your waist. Immediately you put your face among his shoulder and neck. He could feel your wet skin rubbing against his own.
Wooyoung started to rub his hand on your back. You could feel his breath against your shoulder, where he placed a soft kiss, a thing that you were totally used to in stormy days, because he used to pass those days with you in the past, and he always took good care of you.
"Y/N?" He called you, his voice barely a whisper to your ears, that paid attention in the storm outside.
He poked your waist, and you laid your head in him even more, listening to his small laugh for your clumsiness. He loved the way you act when you were with him, so he just tight his arms, but you could feel one of his arms leaving the place, and felt his hand on you chin.
"Can you look at me?" He asked, his voice still a whisper, but he had his voice full of something you never listened to.
Still full of fear, you lifted your head up to look at him even with the place all darkened. His hand left your chin in the moment one more thunder could be listened, and you held yourself even more close to him, but you happened to sit on his lap not noticing it, because you're too scared of the sounds that shaked all your house.
"I'm here for you, baby. Nothing will hurt you, okay? And even if it happens, I'll take care of you, as I always did, because..." he took your chin again, lifting it to try to look at your eyes through the dark.
"Because... I fell in love, Y/N... With you." He declares, his voice now sounding clear than the storm. Your heart stops for a few seconds and then he feels just like butterfly wings.
"Wooyoung..." you tried to say something, but your mouth was too dry for it. You cleared your throat, putting both your hands to cup his cheeks on their palms. "I... I have this strange feeling in my chest for a few months for now, but I thought I was sick, so..." you sighed, holding a little laugh. "The doctor called me dumb and said I was in love." You could feel his dimples, signaling he was smiling to you.
"So... I assume you fell in love too, right?" He now laughed, his hand rested on tour waist by now, and he was rubbing there with his thumb in such a lovingly way, that melted your heart.
You nodded, caressing his cheek.
"Can..." you both started together, which made both laugh in a unison that warmed you.
Wooyoung's left your chin that was just ghosting your skin, and then put it on your nape, putting you close to him. You could feel his breath close to your skin, and it made goosebumps up your back.
"Can I kiss your fear out?" He asked in a cute way. You didn't remembered that it was raining until he said that, and then you noded, practically killing the gap between both of you, feeling his lips hitting on yours, and then it feels like everything was bright and safe for you.
His lips feels so soft and tasted like strawberry, just like the drink he had earlier because you said it was good (he secretly hated it, but will never said it to the love of his life). The kiss felt just so right, that you asked yourself why you'd never asked him that, or he asked you.
You were incapable to separate your lips from his even with the air privacy your lungs were now.
"I'm..." he had the courage that you hadn't, your lips feeling so different that he touched it. "I'm going to kiss you whenever I want, okay?" He asked, making you blush instantly. Lucky on you that the power was totally off right now.
"Oh, and... you feel so nice in my lap." He said, making you so confused with his words. That's when you realized where were you sitting.
"OH MY GOD, JUNG WOOYOUNG. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" You almost screamed, trying to get off his lap. Your face turned red like strawberries.
"Nope. You're not going to get out of my lap. I won't let you." He said, holding you close to him, hiding his face in your chest covered by a hoodie.
"I hate you. Y'know?" You just quit your task, putting your hand in his soft hair, playing with it amongst your fingers.
"And I love you. Is that considered a cat and dog love?" He asked and you just rolled your eyes, laughing soundless form him not to listen.
"It's more like a cat and a cat love. But you're the orange one and I'm the black one." You said, laying your mouth on his head, kissing right there.
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here have a cute AU:
“Junpei, do you think I’m cute enough to be a sugarbaby?”
Junpei shot his best friend in the whole world an exasperated look. “No, but you’re stupid enough for it,” he said.
Yuji grinned hopefully from his position of sprawled upside-down on the concrete steps next to Junpei. “You think?” he asked brightly. “Maybe if I work out more I can be stupid and strong enough that some rich old lady will pay my bills!”
Junpei rolled his eyes and smacked Yuji’s shin. “Maybe, but you’d have to move somewhere with lots of rich old ladies, like Kyoto or Tokyo.”
“Oh, that’s true…” Yuji mused, and sighed regretfully. “Ah, well. I suppose the bakery doesn’t pay too badly.” Then he smiled again and said, “By the way, I forgot to ask about your mom. How’s she doing?”
“She’s fine. Worried about you, but fine.”
“Aw, she doesn’t have to worry, I’m alright. I miss her cooking, though.”
“I keep telling you, you can move in with us whenever you want.”
“But I own my house. Why don’t you two move in with me?”
“Because that’s weird. People will think you’re dating my mom.”
“I wouldn’t mind dating your mom. She’s nice.”
“I would mind!”
Yuji laughed and Junpei couldn’t help a smile. There had always been something so relaxing about spending time with Yuji. A complete lack of seriousness to anything. When they did have deep conversations, it was always comfortable, and Junpei left every one of them feeling relieved, and grateful that they’d moved to Sendai two years ago.
He’d been upset at first, about moving right in the middle of his first year of high school, but then he’d met Sasaki-chan and Iguchi-kun, and joined their Occult Phenomenon club because he didn’t feel like trying to start a film club. Then Yuji had joined them, and it was like everything had fallen into place. There was nothing and no one that could resist Itadori Yuji’s implacable kindness and good cheer, not even Junpei’s deeply-held cynicism. Within a month of becoming friends, Junpei’s mother had commented with approval that the move seemed to have agreed with him; and he hadn’t been able to contradict her.
Then, three months into the school year, Yuji’s grandfather had died.
“Would your grandpa have an opinion on you getting a sugarmama?” Junpei asked, putting his chin in his hand.
Yuji snorted. “Of course he would, and he’d say it’s a bad idea. But I’m not exactly helping people by just baking bread and selling it at unfair prices. I’d rather at least be earning lots of money so I can donate to people in need, or have the time to volunteer at shelters and with organizations that help.”
“Mm,” Junpei said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. They’d already had many conversations about Yuji’s grandfather’s dying wish. There was no point rehashing it now. “Would being a sugarbaby be worth it to you? You’d have to be attentive and flattering to someone who might be truly heinous.”
“That’s true. Can I smile and compliment someone for pay if I know my livelihood depends on the suffering of others?” Yuji sighed again and swiveled on the concrete steps before scooting up them on his behind to sit next to Junpei and lean against his shoulder. “Man, I’m glad I asked you about this, Junpei. You’re a lot smarter than me.”
“Nah, you’re plenty smart,” Junpei assured him, blushing faintly. His stomach felt funny, almost ticklish, with how close Yuji was, but he didn’t really want his friend to pull away. “You’re just too focused on the goal to see the sewers you have to slog through to get there.”
Yuji laughed and leaned his head on Junpei’s for a moment. “And you’re too focused on the shit to see that the goal is only a few meters away, and you’ve already got waders on. Okay, I won’t do it. I’ll stick with the bakery.”
Junpei wanted to ask if he could kiss Yuji, but that felt too weird. So he just smiled, and offered dinner with him and his mother. Yuji accepted with a grin, and the two teens got up to hop on their bikes and race each other to the Yoshino home.
#idk if I want to continue this but it feels cute enough to be of interest to someone so#Jujutsu Kaisen fanfic#Itadori Yuji#Yoshino Junpei
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and the universe said,
02 "fuck you and your interview"
genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery chapter warnings: language, mentions of a non-fatal car collision. reader is shirtless for most of a scene. if you wear bras and would like to, you can imagine reader in one. relationship(s): ot13 x reader
When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren't -- and that's before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.
series masterlist
prev ⭒ chapter two (1.7k) ⭒ next
It’s 300.15 Kelvin outside and you’re wearing a turtleneck and you want to die because the person on the other side of your soulmate phenomenon has never heard of shutting the fuck up.
“They liked you!” Heejun insists.
“Yeah, sure,” you groan, slumped over your kitchen table with your head resting atop your shut laptop. “Until someone started singing and my mark went all the way up to my freaking chin!”
“Okay but they didn’t dislike your mark—”
“No, they thought it was fascinating. So fascinating, in fact, that once they saw it, they forgot all about my dissertation!” You sit up, beyond frustrated, and tug off your turtleneck, throwing it onto the floor like it personally wronged you. The AC in your apartment just has to be broken, but it doesn’t matter anyway. The mark has returned to its home on the back of your hand.
Heejun doesn’t bother turning away or covering his eyes, having seen you in less.
“All they cared about was my stupid mark,” you whine, crossing your arms in front of you and making a sour face. “‘Oh, wow, I’ve never seen a mark like that before.’ ‘Are those music notes? Is your soulmate a singer?’ ‘Have you met them?’” Even though the words come out mockingly, you slump more and more as you repeat the questions you got berated with in your Zoom interview. “Fuck, I’m never getting a job.”
“Don’t say that. They might call you back.”
You sigh. “Please don’t get my hopes up.”
It’s been about two months since the soulmate phenomenon rocked the world, and that many days minus one since you found out your mark, which is already a proven miracle amongst the general population, is also special amongst other victims of the phenomenon.
“Oh, god.” Eyeing your arms, you groan. “Songbird’s at it again.”
Not only does your mark move whenever your supposed soulmate sings — it extends.
The bars, accompanied by notes and pianissimos and double fortes and symbols you’ve yet to bother googling, spread past the original mark and curl around your wrist, slithering up your arm like a snake through the grass. With your turtleneck strewn and abandoned somewhere on your floor, you and Heejun watch as the music climbs up to your shoulder and slips around your neck, circling twice before moving to your other arm. It’s like you’ve got two full sleeves of tattoos without the teeth-gritting pain that comes with actually getting it done in a parlour.
No, just a whole different kind of pain.
In the ass.
You can’t walk down the street without people gawking at you like you’re an alien — which, honestly, you can’t even blame them for. What the fuck kind of human has tattoos that snake along their arms as if they’re alive? Even Heejun can’t take his eyes off your mark, which has looped back up your left arm and started to wrap around your chest.
“Heejun!” You snap your fingers in his face, jolting him back into pay attention to me land. “I’m lamenting my current and probably eternal unemployment right now; at least pretend you hate this shit as much as I do.”
Shaking his head and frowning, Heejun tries again to console you. “C’mon, there’s no way they’d let the fact that you have a soulmate mark affect whether they hire you or not.”
“Tell that to my other two interviews.”
The staff branches off in some places, and you follow Heejun’s eyes as they trace the music reaching all the way up to your cheek. It does that a lot — the splitting up thing. You’re too sick of the mark overall to care to think about why.
“We should just find them,” Heejun posits.
You blink. “What?”
“I mean, the only way to get them to stop singing is to ask, right?”
Straightening up in your seat, you realize you never really thought about meeting the person on the other side of your mark. You’d been too caught up in the whole, what the fuck is happening why is there a random tattoo on me holy shit why is it moving what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck of it all. And besides, every case you’ve happened to hear from the news has ended up the same way — the soulmates met because their marks led them to each other.
You sort of just expected it to… happen. You never thought about going out to find the person inadvertently ruining your life yourself.
Heejun asks, sincerely, “You want to meet them, don’t you?”
“I… guess.” You shrug.
Do you?
The idea of asking them to stop singing — at least while you’re in a serious interview for a real-life, adulting job — is appealing, that’s for sure. The fact that they’re supposed to be the love of your life is also a factor, though.
You don’t know why, but that’s somehow less appealing to you.
And the weirdness that is the feeling of not wanting to meet the love of your life just yet (because who wouldn’t?) gives you pause.
Your soulmate stops singing, and the staff slinks back until it’s just five empty lines on the back of your hand. It’s a chilling feeling, when the notes disappear, and you shiver with your whole body every time. Another reason you’ve come to dislike your mark. Despite the annoyance the music sets off every time it spreads across your skin, you feel a dreadful sense of… emptiness when it leaves.
To feel that constant start and stop, start and stop—
It’s exhausting.
“Have you tried reading the music?”
“Are you kidding?” You scoff at Heejun. “I played percussion in junior high marching band, dude. I can’t even sightread; I’m hardly a music prodigy.” Scrutinizing your now-plain mark, you say, “Besides, how would that help?”
Heejun rolls his eyes. “You’re seriously dense sometimes. They’re always singing. Either it’s their job, or they’re trying to get your attention.”
“If they wanted to get my attention by annoying me, then they’re doing a bang-up job.”
“If they’re a singer,” Heejun continues, ignoring you. “—it’ll be even easier to find them. They’ll probably be singing all their own songs.”
You shake your head, doubtful. “I don’t think singers spend all day just singing their own stuff.”
“Idols practice all the time—”
“My soulmate is not an idol.”
“Why not?”
The look on Heejun’s face is serious, and you almost squirm under his gaze. Instead, you scrunch up your face and shake your head. “They’re just… not, okay? Idols aren’t my type.”
“Not your type?” Heejun regards you in such disbelief, you want to be annoyed again. “Bub, ‘idol’ isn’t a type of person, it’s a job description.”
“Yeah, and venture capitalists aren’t my type either.”
Heejun groans, but you can tell he won’t argue with that — he dated a business major in university. It didn’t go well.
Not that all business majors are bad, of course. That one just so happened to be a real bitch.
“Fine,” he relents. “Let’s assume they’re just trying to get your attention by singing nonstop— like now.”
Heejun points at your arm, and you look down to find your mark extending again to your infinite dismay. You let out a sigh.
“If they’re not a singer, maybe they’re singing songs with hints in them,” he suggests.
“That’s awfully elaborate, isn’t it?”
Shrugging, Heejun takes hold of your hand from across the table and studies the notes as they dance over your skin. “Your mark is elaborate. You don’t have it easy like all the others.”
“That girl almost hit her soulmate with her car.”
“Yeah, because the universe literally dragged them together,” he reasons. Then, “It’s weird…”
You pull your hand out of his just as the mark recedes, a shiver pulsing through you. “What’s weird?”
“Nothing.” He nods at your phone, which is sitting face up on the table, lit with a notification, “You got an email.”
Not wanting to pry into whatever is going on in Heejun’s head, you grab your phone. You expect some random email from a newsletter you never subscribed to in the first place, but when you read the subject line, your eyes widen.
“Second round of interviews?!”
Heejun smiles wide. “See? I told you they liked you!”
“Oh my god. Dude. It’s tomorrow. Oh my god.”
“Yeah, yeah, stress head. Let’s go over the practice questions again.”
“I love you.”
He snorts. “No shit.”
⭒
Sitting in small coffee shop near where your interview — second round! — will take place in twenty-five minutes, you mutter the answers you practised with Heejun late into last night under your breath. You scroll through your phone, reading up on the company for the third time.
You can almost hear Heejun nagging you in your head.
Relax.
Letting out a long breath, you put your phone away and take a sip of your drink, eyes drifting out the window.
It’s a nice day, unfortunately. If it weren’t for the white turtleneck you’re wearing, you might be happy about the warm weather. You pray to whatever is out there that your antiperspirant is doing its job, because this is the nicest turtleneck you own, and you seriously don’t trust your soulmate not to break into song during your interview. You can only hope they don’t sing a full song today— your shirt will cover partial tunes, but who knows if your soulmate is actually cast in a musical, or something.
Earlier, you set an alarm on your phone so you’ll know when you’ve got to get moving to be exactly seven minutes early, with three minutes of leeway in case you get lost inside the building. With that alarm in mind, you let yourself sink into the art of people-watching, zoned out and half-listening to the music playing in the shop. A song you know comes on, and you hum along.
Ice cold something splashes across your back.
You flinch so hard, your own drink goes flying, and on instinct, you stand up. Whipping around, you turn to see the masked face of a man with an empty plastic cup in his hold, the lid squeezed tight in the opposite hand.
His eyes are as wide as dinner plates, which is wild because you’re the one drenched in iced coffee.
You have nothing to say except, “What the fuck!”
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