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bbyquokka · 2 days ago

Text

nerd in love

– after a misunderstanding, jisung finally tells yn how he feels at his birthday party .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing | han jisung x fem reader

genre | mutual pining , fluff , uni au – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | she/her pronouns used ; mostly in jisung pov ; food and alcohol mentioned ; a lil suggestive at the end

words | 10.1k ~ ( 10,133 )

notes | well, here it is! i started this before my break (which is why its so late) but finished it during my break n i just wanted to post it bc im proud of this n i adore this version of jisung n the friendship dynamics !! :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

your pen taps against the white, lined sheet of paper that has a few scribbles and doodles on. your cheek resting on your hand as you sigh a little in boredom.

the professor has been groaning on and on about the same thing. you want to listen and take in the information as you know it's important, but your mind wanders and you start to daydream; making imaginary scenarios.

you'd imagine an alien suddenly abducting you because it heard your silent cries of boredom. you and the alien would become the best of friends, the alien showing you around it's space shuttle and inviting you to have some tea and cake before making friendship bracelets – because that's what humans do, right?

other times, you'd imagine a strong, buff greek god suddenly turning up in class. he'd walk to you and take your hand, claiming that you're his long lost bride, before carrying you bridal style and off into the sunset where you two would get married and have babies.

so caught up in your fake scenarios, you don't see that another student is now looking at you.

the student is sitting in front of you–his usual designated spot. black hair that's long and permed and covers his eyes. glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. dressed in a button up shirt and black jeans, paired with a few accessories and black doc marten boots.

“excuse me.” he whispers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “you're making too much noise.” he frowns.

you snap out of your daydream and sit up straight, wiping the imaginary drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“o-oh.. sorry jisung.” you laugh awkwardly. he tuts and rolls his eyes before facing the front. you scoff a little and sit back in your seat.

you don't have very many friends in university, a small handful but it's enough and you don't have very many enemies either, but since jisung started the same class as you, he's been cold towards you.

he's not like this with other people, just you–it's like he can't stand you.

but for some reason, his cold, mean demeanour just makes you want him and find him even more attractive.

it's not a kink of yours, to be spoken down to and degraded. in fact, you love having the attention on you and being treated kindly and gently so it's unknown to you why you find him so attractive.

“alright class! that's all for today. you're all dismissed.” the teacher says. you silently cheer, packing up your things in your backpack.

jisung rises to his feet and swings his bag onto his shoulder, letting it rest there before pulling out his phone. you both catch eye contact with each other.

“see you tomorrow?” you say politely and smile. jisung quickly looks away and mumbles something before walking out in a rush.

maybe you're still daydreaming, but you swore you could see the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink.

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“fuck, i’m so late!” you alternate between running and speed walking your way to your class. your alarm didn't go off this morning so when you finally awoke, it was up and out in a flash. “i'm so screwed!”

today is an important day. the teacher was going to go over a few things on a test that's due in a few weeks so you really needed to attend it to get an idea–but alas, here you are. hair disheveled, dried up drool on your chin and your socks mismatched with your backpack hanging off your shoulder.

you breathe a sigh of relief before stopping in front of the lecture hall doors. you take a deep breath and fix yourself up before reaching out to open the doors.

the doors suddenly swing open. the students exiting the hall. you stand in the middle of the students as they walk around you, engaging in conversations with their friends.

you frown in confusion, looking at the time on your phone. your eyes widen even more, bulging from the sockets.

“oh wow.. i really fucked up.” you were a lot later than you thought.

you look up to see jisung looking at his phone. today he's in a plain, black t-shirt and skinny jeans. a few chains hanging around his neck and converse.

“hey, ji!” you call out. he looks up at whoever is calling him before his face twists into disgust when he realises it's you. you ignore this, mainly because he rushes past you.

you frown and chase after him, trying to keep up with his speed–but he's too fast.

“hey! wait! i know you heard me, ji!!”

“don’t call me that. my name is jisung.” he mumbles.

“ok ok, sorry! just, i need help!”

“find it elsewhere.” his tone of voice is cold towards you; like always. again, you ignore it.

“please, i’m desperate! my alarm didn't go off and i clearly missed class! i know it was super important too and–can you slow down and listen to me?!” you huff.

jisung lets out an irritated sigh and looks at you; phone in one hand, earphones in the other. he stops in the middle of the corridor and looks at you.

you bend down, hands on your knees to catch your breath.

“you being late has nothing to do with me. it's your own fault for being late.” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“yeah, i know.”

“you fucked up and now you want my help? how could i possibly help you?”

“i need your notes.”

“my notes? fuck no.”

“oh please, ji… sorry–jisung. i really, really need this.” you pout. jisung groans and rubs the back of his neck.

“ok, fine.” he sighs in defeat. you're taken aback by how easy it was for him to surrender his notes over to you; but you don't complain. he takes his notebook out of his bag and hands it to you. you cheer and open it up, looking at the notes.

his handwriting is beautiful. his notes are easy to follow, however, you've come to the realisation that looking at notes isn't going to be enough for you to get the information to stick in your mind.

“make sure to give it to me by the end of the day. i’m usually at the library.” he says as you flick through his notes. “if you can't find me, find minho. he's my roommate.”

you don't respond due to the fact that so much information is causing your brain to go into information overload. jisung sighs again and, as he is about to walk away, you grab his arm.

“wait!” you make a quick mental note of how soft his skin is and how muscular he feels. jisung looks at your hand that's on him, feeling heat quickly rise to his cheeks and his heart to thumb erratically in his chest.

“your hand.” he whispers. you lean in close to get a better understanding of what he just said.

“pardon?”

“hand. your hand. please remove it.”

“oh!” you quickly remove your hand from him. jisung clears his throat and looks down, hoping that his long hair covers his face to hide the blush that's happily sitting on his cheeks.

you see it though and make a note of how adorable he looks. you feel your own heartbeat skipping beats and beating erratically but you put it down to you having to sprint to class.

“i don't think this will be enough.” you start. he looks up at you. “the notes.. i don't think it's going to be enough.”

“well, there's a library and also the internet. there’s this thing called google, so use that.”

“teach me.” his eyes widen in shock.

“t-teach you?! fuck no, yn!”

“please, jisung! just until the test is over! i really, really need this. i’m desperate and, although your notes are so perfect, it's going to take a lot more than notes for me to understand it!”

“then ask the tutor for a one-on-one! or ask your friend!!” he stutters in shock. his cheeks are now bright red.

“you know the tutor doesn't do one-on-ones and my friends don't even take this class! oh please, jisung. pleeeaseee. pretty pretty pleeease.” you pout, giving him puppy eyes.

“yn…”

“i’ll buy you your coffee everyday for a full month.”

“... just my coffee?”

“what sweet treat do you like?”

“...cheesecake.” he answers reluctantly.

“then coffee and cheesecake on me for a full month!” jisung runs his fingers through his hair slowly, a soft, defeated sigh leaving his lips as he contemplates.

“you really need this, huh.” you nod your head fast to the point of dizziness. “you drive a hard bargain, yn. but fine.”

you cheer and grin widely.

“on some conditions though.”

“what?”

“we study in the library, you don't be late and we only do this until the test is over! after that, i won't teach you anymore.”

“yes sir.” you salute. “oh, do you want my contact information? might make it easier to set up study dates.”

“study dates?”

“yeah! i assume we have different schedules due to different classes, so it's better to text or call each other so we know when to meet up!”

“true.. ok, fine. give me.” you tell jisung your contact information. he phones you and you smile as you save his contact information.

“thank you so much, jisung! you're the best!” you say before sprinting off to find your friend leaving a flustered jisung bewildered in the middle of the corridor.

“study dates, huh.. i kinda like that.”

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“dude, chill. you're just going to the library to study” jisung’s roommate laughs as he watches jisung scurrying around the place as he packs his bag.

minho is relaxing on jisung’s bed, shirtless and in sweats with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose whilst eating an ice pop. him and jisung have been the best of friends since university started and he became jisung’s roommate.

since then, they've both been inseparable. many people speculate that something is going on between the two of them, indicating a relationship–minsung, they call them.

“i am chill.” jisung mumbles as he shoves in a few too many pens into his pencil case.

“yeah, suuuure.” minho laughs as he licks and sucks on his popsicle. “i’ve watched you run around the place like a headless chicken.”

“dude, please hush.” jisung looks at minho just as some sticky sweet ice drops onto minho's chest. he scoops it up with his fingers and eats it. jisungs sighs “do you have to eat that on my bed?”

“yeah. problem?” minho smirks

“yes. quite a few actually. you're going to get the sheets sticky!” jisung whines.

“not the first time i've heard that.” minho laughs at his own joke. jisung rolls his eyes but the corner of his lips turn upright into a smile as he holds back his laugh.

“you're disgusting.”

“yeah? and you're a mess right now, bro.” minho places the wooden popsicle stick on jisung's side table before swinging his legs around to plant his feet on the floor.

he stands and walks to jisung, ruffling his hair a few times.

“you're just going to study, that's all. it's not that big of a deal, bro. unless….” minho smirks and wiggles his brows at jisung.

“unless what? what are you implying, minho?” jisung says as he crosses his arms across his chest and raises his brow.

“unless you, oh i don't know, like her.” jisung's eyes widen a little and he clears his throat, turning his head to avoid eye contact with minho. “aha!! i knew it! you do like ‘em!”

“no, i don't. fuck off, minho.” jisung mumbles and rushes to his desk, messing and organizing a few things to ‘look busy.’

minho skips over to jisung with a smirk. “c’mon ji. we all know you've been smitten with yn since the very beginning. it's soooo obvious!”

“dude, please. i don't like her like that. and it's jisung–not ji!”

“ahuh. whatever you say, dude.” minho laughs.

“plus, she probably doesn't like me in that way..” jisung mumbles before sighing softly.

“have you asked her that?”

“well… no but–”

“then how do you know?”

“i just do, ok?! enough with the questions, minho. don't you have that media assignment to do or something?”

“nope.” minho says, popping the p in an obnoxious way. “all done, which means i am a free man.”

“no one is a ‘free man’ in university, minho.” jisung laughs.

“ugh, you're right. even though one assignment is done, i still have a gazillion more.” minho runs his fingers through his long, shaggy hair. “speaking of which, i best start with at least one of them.”

“good luck, man. you'll do great.” jisung says sarcastically, paring it with a sarcastic grin.

“fuck you. good luck with yn, jisung.” minho turns around and walks out of jisung's bedroom. “hope you get laid!” he shouts.

“fuck you.” jisung laughs. minho sticks his middle finger up at jisung before laughing and closing his bedroom door.

with the last of his things packed, he zips up his back. he checks one last time in the mirror, fixing his hair and spraying his best perfume onto his neck. he puts his hand up to his mouth, huffing on it before sniffing. pulling a face, he grabs a mint and pops it into his mouth, sucking on it as he puts on his shoes and a leather jacket.

“it’s just a study thing. it's not that serious. calm down, jisung.” he mumbles as he laces up his shoes.

but he can't stop his heartbeat from thumping loudly against his ribcage and excitement to rush through his body. his excitement is so big, it makes him shake.

“it’s not a big deal. she probably doesn't like you that way.” he continues to mumble in an attempt to calm himself down as he takes one last look in the mirror. a smile slowly creeps up onto his face and a small squeal escapes from the back of his throat.

“fuck! i’m so screwed.”

minho hears this and laughs at his friend's excitement before putting on his headphones. if there's one thing minho loves, is seeing his best friend happy and over the moon. he just hopes he won't get hurt.

“cute.” minho says to himself before typing away at his keyboard. jisung leaves the bedroom and shouts a goodbye to minho before heading out to the library.

nervous doesn't describe how jisung is feeling. as he walks to the library, his legs start to feel like jelly and the urge to turn back strong the closer he gets to his destination. he hopes that you're not there first just so he has time to calm himself down.

he even tries to listen to music in hopes that it would calm him down somewhat. but the soothing sounds of violins and cellos do nothing (he even tried listen to a few seconds of whale noises but even that was useless)

“we’re just studying. nothing more.” he repeats under his breath as he walks inside the library.

the place is nicely decorated, modern with a hint of an historic touch. students at tables and little cubicles, headphones on and studying. some in groups, whispering as they do projects of various kinds. some making the most of how quiet it is to take a quick nap. the occasional rustling of snack packets paired with the occasional crunch breaks the silence every so often.

it's silent but it's lively.

jisung says a few hellos to some students he recognises (either from classes they take together or them being minho's friends) as he searches the area for you.

his heart thumping as he searches. he silently cheers when he can't see you because he has a chance to calm down, but, as he walks to an empty table at the very back of the room, his victory is cut short as he sees you sitting there; ready and waiting.

you have your back to him (and to everyone else) and you're hunched over your notebook. jacket resting on the back seat with your bag on the floor, by your side. jisung takes a quick, small peek over your shoulder to see what you're doing only to see small, quick doodles on the page from boredom.

his heart swells a little as it's another thing he's learnt about you. just when he thinks you couldn't get any more perfect.

“hey, yn.” he whispers only to realise that you won't hear him no matter how many times he calls for you due to the music that's blasting from your earphones. he makes a quick mental note of who you're listening to before trying to get your attention again.

“hey, yn.” he places his hand on your shoulder to which you jump at, causing jisung to jump at your reaction. you look behind you as you take out your earbuds, sighing in relief.

“jesus, jisung. you frightened me.”

“sorry, yn. i didn't mean to.”

“no, it's ok. my music may have been a little too loud.” you laugh as you put them away and jisung sits next to you on one of the chairs.

“you know you'll get tinnitus if you keep doing that.”

“yeah… i know. it's a bad habit but music sounds better loud, y‘know!” jisung nods in agreement before pulling out his notebook and pencil case.

you watch him lean down. you take the time to admire him. his hair soft and fluffy. you have to resist the urge to run your fingers through it. a faint smell of strawberries and flowers emits from his hair; a sickly sweet yet pleasant smell.

his skin is dewy and perfect; not a blemish in sight. a beauty mark sits close to his lips. it's a small mark so it's no wonder you never recognised it before.

you notice the way his biceps bulge and flex with every motion of his arms. the chains from his neck dangle a little and his aftershave wafts towards you and tickles your nose hairs.

“you smell so good.“ you mumble. jisung looks at you.

“excuse me?”

“you smell so fucking good.” you repeat and lean in close to him. your hair tickles his jawline and chin as you smell the skin of his neck. “what do you use?”

“...i–urm, i don't know. i just picked it up when i was shopping.” you hum and nod. jisungs soft cheeks slowly start to feel very hot. “personal space, yn. ever heard of it?”

“oh!! sorry. my bad. i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” you laugh awkwardly as a awkward silence falls upon you both.

jisung turns his head away from you so you can't see him but his cheeks are very red and hot as his heart beats fast.

you were so close to him. so very, very close. he thought he was going to have a heart attack. he could smell you and to him, you smell so delicious and sweet; like vanilla cheesecake.

“this is not good for my heart.” he mumbles to himself.

“by the way” you begin. jisung looks at you. you slide a cold coffee and cheesecake in the middle of you both. “told you i’d stick to my end of the bargain.”

“i didn't expect you to do it so soon, yn. it's only the first session.”

you shrug. “a deals a deal.” jisung takes the cheesecake and coffee, sipping on it and humming softly as the bitter, cold taste coats his tastebuds and the caffeine enters his system.

“i didn't know what flavoured cheesecake you like so i hope it's ok.”

“what flavour is it?”

“strawberry”

“mhm, not bad.”

“you don't like strawberry?” you say with a small pout. he shrugs.

“it's fine. not the worst. but it's too sweet for me. i’m a vanilla kinda guy.”

“aah, ok. i’ll make a mental note of that.” you say as you tap your temple, laughing softly. jisung lets out a small puff of air from his nose. you see the corner of his lips curl into a small and that makes you feel like he's accepted you.

“now, enough chitchat. i actually want to be done in a decent time so, let's begin?”

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“sooooo” jisung looks up at minho, his chopsticks half hanging from his mouth, resting on his bottom lip.

the smell of spicy, instant ramen fills the air. minho cooked some food for the two of them as they have both been studying hard for upcoming tests and assignments.

instant ramen with a slice of cheese on top. rice cakes, fish cakes and other yummy goodnesss swim in the broth. the kitchen looks a mess, pots and pans scattered everywhere–it contributes to the rest of the dorm with the various clothing and shoes scattered around.

“soooo…” jisung repeats, eyebrows raised. his bangs are tied back in a pink hair tie (your pink hair tie), a white vest top and sweats on his body. minho is also in sweats but with an anime print t-shirt and a sanrio clip to hold back his bangs and a pore strip on his nose; getting tighter and tighter by the second.

“have you asked her yet?”

“asked her what?” jisung takes some noodles and a fish cake, putting them on a small, separate plate before grabbing some kimchi.

“dude.” minho rolls his eyes and lets out a long, irritable groan. “for being smart, you sure are dumb.”

“you're just dumb through and through.” jisung smiles playfully as minho sticks his middle finger up at his best friend.

“fuck you.” minho takes a rice cake that's soaked in the ramen broth. he chews it, the sound of sticky, chewy rice cake emits from his mouth. “anyways! have you asked yn about the party?”

jisung lets out a slow grunt. “not this again, minho.”

“what?!” minho says with a shrug as he continues to chew and talk.

“i already told you, and eeeeveryone else. i don't want a party or anything of the sort, minho. i just want it to be a nice, quiet day.” jisung’s eyes drift to the half chewed rice cake that's being tossed around in minho's mouth. he pulls a face in disgust. “and can you please not talk with your mouth full?”

“you're such a prude.” minho rolls his eyes but swallows his food regardless. “anyways, you know me, changbin and chan won't let you have a quiet birthday!”

“yeah, no shit.” jisung rolls his eyes as he slurps on his noodles. he wipes his mouth with a napkin before munching on some kimchi. “still don't understand why you all decided to plan a birthday party without my knowledge knowing full well i said no in the beginning.”

“dude, you're so boring.” minho jests. “it's your birthday!” he emphasise. “you're supposed to have a party, eat lots of cake and junk. drink beer, hang out with friends and maybe, get laid.”

he wiggles his eyebrows at jisung and laughs softly. with a heavy sigh, jisung puts his chopsticks down.

“no matter what, you're going to go through with this, aren't you?”

“yup!” minho obnoxiously pops the P. “plus, things have already been ordered and organised for it. we already have a few people who confirmed they're attending.”

“who?”

“mhm–” minho puts down his chopsticks and thinks, looking at the ceiling as he does. “felix from fashion design. hyunjin from art. seungmin from business studies and jeongin who is also from fashion design.”

“how do you know all these people?”

“well, unlike some–” minho's eyes widen as he looks at jisung, indicating he's talking about him in particular “–some of us actually get out. plus, chan is like a social butterfly and changbin is charismatic. put them two together and well, people can't say no.”

“yeah, true. i remember when they begged me to work on a track or something for their music assignment.”

“they both practically dragged you to do it.” minho laughs.

“only because you told them i said yes without me knowing about the situation!”

“because i knew you'd say no! you have a talent for this stuff, jisung. don't let it go to waste.”

“thanks.” he mumbles, hanging his head low in embarrassment and awkwardness.

“is that… is that a blush i see?!” minho smirks.

“me? blush? for you?! hell no!” jisung frowns. “the ramen is spicy, that's all.”

“dude… it's mild.”

“...fuck you.”

“so, are you going to ask yn or nah?”

“if it gets you and everyone else off my back, then sure”

“good. make sure you do!” jisung opens and closes his hand, mimicking minho's yapping.

“yeah yeah yeah. can we stop talking about this party and eat?”

“just looking out for ya, man. i know how much you like ‘em!”

“i know. i appreciate it, minho.” minho nods and continues eating the ramen. jisung, on the other hand, is now lost in thought.

how the hell is he going to get the courage to ask you something like that?

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the study sessions are slowly coming to end. you kept up with your end of the deal, providing jisung with an endless amount of coffees and cheesecakes whilst he has provided you with an endless amount of insights.

one thing you have learnt about him is that he is smart. he knows how to do things with just a quick glance. he's good at explaining things so it's not confusing.

you've been stuck on a problem for some time and no amount of teachers advice and youtube videos helped you. all it took was five minutes of jisung explaining the solution and it clicked.

today, however, you are alone in the library. jisung messaged you to let you know that he wasn't going to make it. you felt sad and a little heartbroken–you’ve become so accustomed to jisung's presence that you feel a little cold and lonely right now.

you can't concentrate. the music you're blasting down your ears isn't helping either. the text in your book is slowly starting to merge into one big splooge of text. the information just isn't getting through to you and it's frustrating.

you sit back in your seat and sigh as you take your headphones off and throw them on the table.

“this is pointless.” you mumble. “i can't concentrate. maybe i should just skip it.”

you take your phone and browse through social media before subconsciously opening up the food app. your mouth salivates as you look at the various burgers, fries, pizza and sweet treats–and then your stomach growls.

“maybe i’m just hungry. that's why i can't concentrate.” you pack your things and head to the university cafeteria. the menu looks dull so you settle on a simple sandwich and drink.

the cafeteria is packed. the atmosphere is buzzing with the endless chatter of students. you take your seat and pick up your sandwich.

it's a standard ham salad sandwich with some dressing on. the slices of ham and lettuce (too much lettuce for that matter), tomatoes and other salad stuff squished together by two slices of thick, white bread, smothered in dressing.

you take a few bites. it's ok. it's not bad but you've had better. the bread is a little dry for your liking but the dressing takes that away. you open the cap of your bottled drink and take a few swigs to help wash it down.

“what do we have here?” you turn your head in the direction of the voice–that thick aussie accent you know all too well.

“ew. go away chan. you're disturbing my peace.”

“charming. don't think that's something you should say to someone you haven't seen in a while.” he says with a pout as he walks to your table and sits down. he's joined by another man, a friend of his, perhaps. he sits opposite you.

“and whose fault is that, huh? maybe if you answered my calls or texts every once in a while.”

“sorry, yn. i’m just a busy man, y’know.” chan grins as he leans back in his seat, brimming with confidence.

“yeah. too busy being the campus whore.”

“blah blah blah. least i’m getting some.” he elbows you in the side a few times. “what are you getting, huh?” he jests.

“a degree? y'know that thing i came here for in the first place.”

“oh ha ha. very funny, yn.” chan mocks, rolling his eyes at you before stealing your sandwich and taking a bite.

the male opposite you clears his throat as a way of telling you both “hi, i’m still here.”

“oh! yn, this is minho. minho, yn.” minho's eyes widen a little and his lips twitch into a small smile.

“so, you're yn. nice to put a face to the name.“ he grins.

“you know me?” you blink a few times in confusion.

“i’m jisung’s roommate.” you mentally slap yourself. of course!

“oh my god. i’m so sorry. i didn't realise! i’m so bad with names.” you whine. minho laughs and brushes it off.

“and how do you know jisung, yn?” chan says with a mouthful of food; your food to be exact. you glare at him, daggers darting out of your eyes and straight into chan as you snatch your sandwich back off him.

“jisung’s my private tutor as of right now.”

“oh.” chan nods before his eyes suddenly light up. he looks at minho for confirmation. “wait, hold up.”

minho nods and smirks. “nah. really?!” you watch the two men talk in code as they communicate by facial expressions and a stings of “ohs” and “yeahs”

“uh, hello. i’m still here!” minho laughs softly.

“sorry, yn.” you shrug it off and eat your sandwich. “how do you two know each other by the way. chan has never mentioned you before.”

��good. keep it that way.” you say coldly, mainly aiming it at chan. chan pouts and nuzzles into you, head on shoulder. he looks at you with puppy eyes and a pout.

“aww. don't be like that, bestie. you secretly love me.” you flick his forehead.

“me and chan are childhood friends. haven't been able to get rid of him since.” chan smiles at your sweet implication. “he's like a parasite. or a fruit fly in the summer.” his smile drops and now, it's your turn to give chan a big, sarcastic grin–teeth and all.

“rude.” he mumbles. you shrug and finish off your sandwich.

“so, jisung is your tutor.” minho speaks. you nod. “are you attending his party?”

“party? what party?” you look at chan and minho. minho sighs a little and runs his fingers through his hair.

“i warned him.” he mumbles under his breath in irritation before looking at you and smiling softly. “me, chan and a few others are organising a birthday party for jisung.”

“his birthday is coming up?!” your eyes widen. “when? i should get him a gift”

“14th.”

“14th?! that's pretty soon.” you mumble.

“jisung told me he would invite you.” you shake your head no. minho rubs the back of his neck. “well, this is awkward.”

“it’s ok. maybe he has his reasons as to why he didn't mention it to me. no biggie.” you say with a smile. minho nods before a few minutes of silence dawn upon the three of you.

“out of curiosity.” you break the silence. “how is jisung in general?” minho tilts his head to the side. “it's just he seems so….” you think for a second, thinking of the right (and nice) word to use “... cold towards me.”

“cold?”

“mhm. he seems so bitter towards me and i don't know why. we barely even talked in class but when we did, he would always tell me i’m making too much noise and to hush.” you slowly start to feel slightly irritated.

“jisung is fine with me.” he says with a. shrug. “he's pretty chill around me.” you huff.

“i know he can be friendly because whenever i see him in the corridors talking to someone, he smiles and is so friendly!”

“what’s he likes now, yn?”

“well, now that we've been spending more time with each other, he's… i don't know… avoiding me to some degree? he won't make eye contact with me. he doesn't like it when i touch him.”

chan raises his brow and looks at minho, both men thinking the same thing. chan puts you in a gentle headlock and ruffles your hair.

“hey!! get off me!!” you push chan a few times, using all your strength to make him release you.

“you're pretty naive, yn.” chan laughs, continuing to ruffle your hair. he ignores your screams and yells, minho laughing at the two of you.

finally, chan let's you go. you push him with all the strength you have left before fixing your hair and glaring at him. chan pouts and nuzzles into you once again.

“i’m sorry, yn. forgive me?” he puckers his lips and makes kissing noises, edging closer and closer to you. you hold him at arm's length.

“ok ok!! just quit doing that!!” chan laughs and pats your head gently.

as fast as he was in the cafeteria, jisung is soon out of it after seeing you and chan, with nothing but festering jealousy in his stomach.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

you bounce through the library to your designated spot at the very back, coffee and cheesecake in each hand with your bag swinging on your shoulder.

jisung is there, punctual, as always. but something seems a little off. the air around him seems thick and suffocating–dark even.

“hey!” your cheerful voice ringing in his ears, making his heart beat fast. you sit next to him and slide over the coffee and cheesecake.

today he's dressed in a yellow and orange flannel shirt and white tank-top. black jeans and boots to accommodate. a few of his nails are painted in black, chipping from wear and tear.

he gives you a cold nod of the head. you frown a little but choose to ignore it as you take your books and pens out of your bag.

“so, what's the plan for today?” jisung shrugs. “...ok, well how about we go over that question i was struggling with?”

“k” he reluctantly moves closer to you. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafts towards you and tickles your nostrils, making you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

“you smell good, jisung.”

“mhm, thanks.” you let out a silent sigh. something is wrong with him and you don't know why. is it something you've done? something you haven't done?

jisung is being very dry and sour with you. his usual method of teaching you is that he would go into detail and repeat until you'd understand it, today, however, he's very short and sharp.

“i don't understand.” you say. jisung sighs, a long irritated sigh. you bite your lip, thinking that you've done something to hurt him in any possible way.

“what don't you get?”

“all of it…” he sighs again and rubs his face. his eyebrows furrow together in irritation. the jealousy he is feeling in his stomach is festering, becoming more and more intense.

every time he looks at you, he is reminded of the way you and chan were together. he hates that. how could you fall for someone like chan? he thought you were better than that. his head swimming with negative and harsh thoughts.

before he can stop himself, the words just spill without any control. “why don't you get chan to do it for you.”

you blink. “chan? what does he have to do with this?”

“i mean, you two are close are you not?”

“i mean.. well, yeah, i guess.” you shrug. “he does get on my nerves sometimes though. he is such a pain! but he's a good gu–”

“i thought you were better than that, yn.’ he spits.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you feel the bubbling of rage in your stomach as you stare at jisung, who stares at you back. the jealousy has consumed his body and it's too late to back out now.

“as in, i thought you had standards. chan? of all people? he's a whore, yn. everyone knows that he sleeps around on campus and you chose him?!”

“i don't appreciate the way you're talking about him, jisung.”

“it’s the truth, yn! and you know it so why are you with him?! you can do sooo much better than him!!”

“oh yeah?” you challenge. “then who is good for me, mhm? please, enlighten me?”

jisung freezes. he looks away and chews his bottom lip. you scoff and pack your things in a hurry.

“i don't have to listen to this bullshit. you've been in a shit mood with me this whole time, which is fine. everyone has bad days. what's not ok, however, is you taking it out on me and bad mouthing the people i care about.” you stand up, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. jisung stares at one spot of the desk, burning holes into it. “text me when you're in a better mood.”

you walk out, leaving jisung to think about what he has just done.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“jisunggggg. sungieeee. knock, knock. let me innn!” the sound of minho's high-pitched, cheery voice irritates jisung to the bone. he lets out a slow and irritated groan, hot puffs of air slowly exhaling from his nostrils.

he pushes his glasses up his nose and runs his fingers through his unwashed hair. sitting at his desk in the same baggy band t-shirt and sweats from a few days ago, he checks his phone for the nth time, only to be disappointed.

he hasn't spoken to you nor seen you since that day. in class, it's worse. he's tried to catch your eye a few times, smiling when he does, only for you to turn away. he spent days loathing in his own self pity, locking himself up in his room and only coming out for food, bathroom breaks and class.

minho has had enough. not only is jisung's mood ruining the atmosphere, but minho has no idea as to what happened that day. he was home when jisung came back to the dorm, looking like he was on the verge of tears.

when he asked, jisung always gave the same answer of “mind your own business.”–and he has; for several days now.

“let me in, jisung.” the repetitive sounds of minho's knuckles against the wood door cause jisung's stomach to bubble more intensely with anger–until he finally snaps.

he rushes to the door and swings it open, brows furrowed together. minho's smug grin makes him foam at the mouth.

“what part of leave me alone don't you understand, minho?” jisung's words dripping with poison. minho shrugs it off.

“all of it.” he pushes past jisung, making himself at home in his bedroom. jisung has no time to protest, all he can do is watch his best friend jump on his bed and rest on his back, arms behind his head.

with a heavy sigh, jisung walks back to his desk. he turns his back on him, hoping that if he ignores his friend, he will get bored and eventually leave. minho watches his friend pick up and put down his phone several times to the point where minho feels irritated by it.

“so?” minho starts

“so?” jisung repeats

“going to tell me what's happened? haven't seen you this down in a while.”

“nope. i'm good.”

“you can't keep moping around the place, jisung.”

“i can and i will.” minho groans and stands up, walking out of the bedroom. jisung mentally cheers only for it to be cut short when minho throws his jacket at jisung.

“put it on.” it's more of a demand than a sentence, but nonetheless, jisung obliges because if he doesn't, minho will force it on him.

“where are we going?”

“to the cafe.” minho puts on his shoes, jisung following suit.

“aah, dude.. i don't really fe–”

“shut up, we're going to the cafe whether you want to or not. a change of scenery might cheer your moody ass up because, to be quite honest, i’m tired of seeing your gloomy ass face.” he looks at jisung who is frowning at him. “in the nicest way possible, of course.”

jisung rolls his eyes before following minho to the local (and one of his favourite) cafes.

it's a small, local café with an old fashioned sense of style to it. the tables and chairs are worn. cushions on the chairs losing their stuffing and the tables scratched and chipped. the décor is outdated, indicating that the café has been there for quite a few years; but it feels like home to some.

the bell above the door chimes as minho and jisung walk in. they walk to the counter and say their orders before taking their lunch and drinks and sitting at a table.

jisung takes a sip of the coffee. he feels the ice cold beverage trickling down his esophagus and into his empty stomach. minho munches on his chicken salad sandwich, watching his friend look in his drink and ponder.

“i fucked up.” jisung mumbles, lost in thought. the more he thinks about you, the more he can feel the tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. minho tilts his head to the side and as he is about to open his mouth and encourage his friend to continue, a familiar sound in the form of a laugh causes jisung's head to shoot up and look in that direction.

his eyes widen. he feels relief and happy to see a smile finally on your face; but then that same, the green monster in the form of jealousy parks itself on his shoulder and starts whispering in his ear.

minho watches jisung's jaw muscles clench. his facial expression goes from relief to jealousy. minho follows jisung's gaze and raises his brow at the sight of you and chan.

chan is being his usual, goofy self. he's telling you typical dad jokes and being a little grotest by telling you his latest hook-up details. you push him by the arm and roll your eyes, sipping your coffee in the process. chan continues to joke around with you, play fighting a little by wrapping his arm around the back of your neck loosely and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles.

“i can't fucking stand this.” jisung mutters bitterly under his breath. minho turns and looks at his friend who is green with jealousy.

“stand what?”

“seeing someone as precious and innocent as yn be with someone like chan!” minho blinks a few times.

“what do you… jisung, what do you think yn and chans relationship is?”

“isnt it obvious? they're going out!” minho gives jisung a few blank stares and blinks before bursting out into laughter, choking on his own saliva in the process. “what?!”

jisungs cheeks flush red with embarrassment but also with anger. his own friend laughing at his statement, finding amusement in his sorrows.

“are you serious? please tell me you're joking?” minho stutters through his giggles.

“dead serious.” jisung says, deadpan. “don't you see the way they are with each other? i saw you all the other day, in the cafeteria! chan's arm around yn and them being all…. lovey!!”

“oh my god.” minho calms himself down. “you really are serious!”

“i told you! i even asked yn about it and well… it didn't go so well.”

“is that why you've been so moody and upset lately?” jisung nods his head slowly, feeling some type of guilt. minho sighs heavily, wondering how he can soften the blow of the news he's about to give his best friend.

“jisung…” minho starts. “yn and chan are not dating.” jisung's face drops.

“excuse me?”

“they're not dating. they're just childhood best friends. apparently they've known each other since they were kids. “

“so you're telling me.. that i got it all wrong when i saw you three in the cafeteria?“ minho slowly nods whilst giving a sympathetic smile. jisung sits back in his seat in disbelief. “why did chan never mention yn?! fuck, i fucked up… i really, really fucked up…”

“oh, c’mon. it can't be that bad.” minho tries to lighten the situation.

“dude. i told her i thought she had standards! i called her best friend a whore!”

“i mean, chan is a whore. he knows he is and he doesn't hid–”

“dude, please.” jisung interrupts. “not right now.” minho shrugs and sips his coffee whilst jisung rubs his face whilst groaning. “what do i do?”

“well.” minho puts down his coffee. “you make it right. admit you were in the wrong. explain how you were a jealous lil guy because you like her and that you fucked up.”

“and how do i do that? she’s been avoiding me for weeks and it’s not like i can go up to her right now and be like oh hey yn, sorry i called your best friend a whore oh, by the way, i like you.” jisung mocks himself in a high pitched voice, his face turning red in frustration.

“you're so dramatic.” minho rolls his eyes with a soft, yet heavy sigh. “for a smart guy, you're pretty dumb too.”

“pft, am not!” jisung scoffs and folds his arms across his chest. “... only when it comes to stuff like this.” he mumbles. “i just… don't know what to do or how to fix it. i really, really like her, minho.”

“ok? and? what do you want me to do about it? there's no point telling me about your feelings for yn. i'm not the one that fucked up and then decided to hold myself up in my room to drown in my own self-pity.” minho says with a shrug.

to the outside world, minho's words sound harsh but to jisung, it's a reality check.

he sighs softly for the nth time as he glances over at you. he watches you laugh and smile with chan, soaking in your beauty and the way you glow with happiness.

“to make it easier for you.” minho breaks the few seconds of silence between the two, feeling a little responsible for his friend in need. “i may have mentioned your birthday party to yn.”

“what?! why?”

“bro, you weren't going to mention it! so i just.. did you a favour.” minho shrugs, a smug look on his face.

“... is she coming?”

minho shrugs. “dunno. she seemed interested at least but this was before you called her best friend a whore so–”

“that was an accident. i didn't mean to.. i just got too–”

“worked up? jealous perhaps?” minho says, or rather states, with a raised brow. jisung hums and nods his head slowly, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.

minho chews on his straw as he watches his friend think. he can see the cogs turning in jisung's skull. jisung is inexperienced when it comes to relationships so seeing him like this, brings minho slight amusement.

“look, jisung. if she turns up, you approach her and apologise whilst also telling her how you feel.” minho holds his hand up to jisung who is just about to protest but is quick to close his mouth and listen. “if she doesn't turn up, you find her the next day, apologise and tell her how you feel. heck, text her if you have to!”

“dude… you know i can't do that!”

“ok. then you have the other option, which is to keep wallowing in your self pity and watch yn from the sidelines.” minho shrugs. “i don't know dude. be the main character for once. you clearly like her so take the chance.”

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jisung's birthday rolled around. you haven't heard nor spoken to him since the argument so you didn't originally plan on turning up to his birthday party; but chan being chan is forcing you to go as his plus one.

“is this ok?” you smooth down your party outfit as you present yourself to chan. chan is sitting at your dressing table, dressed in blue, skinny jeans, a compression shirt that hugs and molds his muscles and combat boots. a silver chain around his neck, earrings in one ear and a few rings on his fingers.

he looks up from his phone and smirks playfully. he wolf whistles at you to which you scoff and roll your eyes at.

“looking good there, yn.”

“really? i threw this together at the last minute.’

“you look great, don't worry. you're gonna knock ‘em dead.” chan laughs.

“i really don't want to go, chan.” you groan.

“weeeell, too late. you're coming with me to this party, even if i have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

chan has heard about your little argument with jisung from minho. the two of them had a drink together during the week and chan listened to minho vent about jisung.

once minho mentioned the fight did it all come together. you've been feeling down and withdrawn, not knowing what to do or how to deal with your feelings. you've put on a fake smile and basically faked your way through the weeks–but chan has known you for years so he can see through you, he just didn't want to press you.

you'll come to him when the time is right; you always do.

“do i have to?” you ask for the nth time whilst putting on your shoes. chan laughs at your contradicting actions and shakes his head before standing up.

“yes, you do. it'll be fun and hopefully, it'll lift your spirits.” you pout.

“i have been a little moody lately, haven't i?” chan raises his brows and scoffs.

“a little!? pur-lease! i thought knives were going to spawn out of your eyes at one point.”

“mhm.. i’m sorry chan. it's just been a long couple of weeks with a lot of thinking.” you sigh softly. chan elbows your side gently.

“hey. let's not think about that right now. let's go to this party, have a couple of drinks and a dance, yeah?” you nod slowly.

“not like i have a say in this.”

“that's my girl. now.” chan grabs your hand gently and pulls you to the front door. “let's go have some fuuuun!!!”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

it's loud. the bass of the music rings in your ears and shakes the ground beneath you.

it smells. the stench of stale cigarettes, sweat and alcohol tickles your nostrils and causes you to feel lightheaded and nauseous.

you've tried several times to turn away and head back but chan was always right there.

chan abandoned you to go chat up some girls so you're sat on the sofa, surrounded by people making out, drinking or passing out (if they haven't already)

you hold your red, plastic solo cup which is filled halfway with some punch. the smell is pungent and the taste is awful. it's too strong for your liking so you take small, delicate sips.

as the night rolls on, you have yet to see jisung. not that you want to but, it would help you feel some comfort and less suffocated to see a familiar face.

you glance at your phone screen. 11:20 pm. it's soon time for you to leave. you don't want to be here any longer than you have to and considering that chan has left you alone, you don't feel the need to be here any more.

you stand up from the couch to walk to the kitchen. you shimmy your way in and out of crowds of people who are dancing, talking or making out with someone that they won't remember tomorrow.

you pour your drink down the sink and throw away your empty cup. as you're about to turn and leave, a familiar voice is heard from behind.

“yn. hi.”

you turn on your heels and a sense of relief washes over you as you come face to face with a face you've been longing to see (even if you don't want to admit it)

you forget why you're so angry at him for a split second. his beauty never fails to make you feel star struck and silently go “wow.” but then you remember.

“hi.” you reply coldly.

“can i talk to you?” he shouts, hoping his voice isn't drowned out by the music.

“not right now. i was just about to leave.” you walk past him to leave. jisung grabs your arm gently to stop you. you look at him and he is quick to remove his hand.

“please? just… let me explain…” he chews his bottom lip, his brows scrunched together in the middle. you think for a second and sigh softly, nodding slowly.

“ok. fine. but make it quick.” you swear you see the corner of jisung's lips curl into a subtle smile, his eyes lighting up a little. he beckons you to follow him so you do.

you follow him outside. compared to inside, where it's hot and humid, the harsh, cold night air is refreshing and soothes your damp skin.

“look.” he starts as he stops walking to turn to you. “i know i was a complete asshole.” you scoff but don't say anything. “it's just… aah fuck, how do i say this.”

you watch jisung slowly become flustered. the tips of his ears turn red, his hands clammy as he shakes a little. he shuffles on his feet to shift his weight and avoids eye contact with you.

“fuck.. this is so hard… minho said it'd be easy once i get talking but fuck minho.” jisung rambles to himself. the anger you felt slowly disappears and is replaced with… joy?

your stomach feels a little bubbly and tingly with excitement as you watch this nerd, whom you've grown so accustomed to, become easily flustered and shy because of you.

“just say what's on your mind, jisung.” you say with a shrug. his eyes flicker at you for a second before looking to the ground.

“ok.. well…” he takes a deep breath. ”i like you and i always have and the reason why i got so pissed and called chan a whore, who i later found out was your childhood best friend, was because i was jealous of how close he was to you and i saw red and i didn't mean it. in fact, i've been cooped up in my bedroom in my own self-pity because i'm a coward and i don't deserve someone as wonderful as you and i’m really sorry. can you forgive me for being a lil silly?”

you blink at him several times. jisung dared take a breath during his little speech so all the information that has suddenly been laid on you, isn't going through your head right now.

“ah fuck.. i fucked up again, haven't i?” jisung shakes, his voice wavering as it breaks the tension in the air. his nerves shaking his body as a shaky hand picks at the skin around his fingernails. “god i knew i shouldn't have said anything. why did i take minho's dumb advice.”

“i… i don't know what to say, jisung. it's all so much.” you say in pure shock.

“oh, that's ok! i’m not looking for an answer right now. please, take your time. i just wanted you to know my true feelings and why i acted out. the last thing i want is for you to feel forced.”

“so let me get this straight. the reason you acted out is because you got jealous of chan, thinking that we were dating?” you watch jisung slowly nod his head, his cheeks turning pink; whether that's from embarrassment or from the harsh cold air. “and that you.. like me?”

jisung nods again. “silly, right?” he laughs, trying to soothe himself of the raging anxiety that's heavy in his heart and stomach.

“no.. no! not at all. i think it's kinda… cute.”

“cute?”

“yeah. i mean, well, being away from you has got me thinking about me, you and well.. us and how i feel.” jisung walks closer to you, closing the gap between you both.

“and how do you feel, yn?” you swallow a little. the atmosphere has suddenly shifted between you both. jisung is close to you, his body daring to press against you.

you can see every detail of his honey skin under the faint moonlight. the cold breeze sweeps between his hair strands. a faint hint of cinnamon and apple from his aftershave tickles and hugs your nose making you inhale deeply for more.

“at first, i was angry at you. i didn't understand why you were so angry. but i spoke to chan about it and during the conversation, he made me realise something.”

“what?” jisung encourages. he gingerly places his hands on your waist, unsure and testing the waters. his touch is as light as a feather and when you don't push him away, his grip becomes firm.

“that maybe, i like you too and i have for the longest time. i just never realised it because i thought you hated me but, when we spent all that time together, i started to notice the smallest of things about you and i found them to be so cute. but they're cute because it's you.”

you slowly run your hands up his chest to his shoulder. his breath hitches and body trembles from your touch. with more confidence, jisung pulls your body flush against his own, closing the gap completely.

“so, you like me too?” his voice dips to a whisper. you hum and nod slowly. “do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

“why don't you show me.” you whisper against his lips, teasing him by brushing yours against his slowly and gently. they feel soft and plump, kissable even.

“you're playing a dangerous game, yn. you have no idea how long i've wanted you.”

“show me.” you whisper again, furthering your teasing by ever so lightly licking his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.

“fuck.” jisung groans. his lips crash against yours in a heated kiss that's filled with longing. your eyes widen a little but are quick to flutter close. you melt into the kiss, the both of you becoming synchronised instantly.

you tilt your head to the side a little to allow jisung to deepen the kiss. he licks your bottom lip and you part your lips slowly.

his tongue slides in to meet yours and you're in a battle of dominance that you lose. jisung's hot kisses make you melt and crave for more. you forget about your surroundings, forget where you are. everything is a buzz in your ears and you can only focus on you, jisung and how your body is tingling and twitching.

jisung is the first to pull away. he pants heavily, his own body trembling with excitement.

“wow.” you hum in agreement. as soon as his lips are off yours, you want them back on you again; whether that's on your own lips or on your body, you don't care as long as you get to feel the softness again.

“is this real?” he asks.

“it's real.” you respond, giggling softly. “and i’m not drunk either so.”

“so, what does this make us?” jisung cautiously asks. he wants to have an idea of what you two are slowly becoming. he wants to make sure you're both on the same page.

“whatever you want us to be, jisung.”

“well, i want you to be mine. i want to show you off to the world, proudly. i want everyone to know that you belong to me. i want to spend every single second of the day with you and during the night, i want to spend every single second caressing your body from head to toe. i want to soak myself in every single bit of detail from your body. i want to drown you in pleasure and my love.”

you swallow and let out a small, shaky breath at the implications behind his words. your body trembles with excitement and anticipation from where tonight is going to end and for the future with jisung.

“then.. shall we go ditch the party and go back to mine? because i want that too.” with a fast nod of the head, jisung holds your hand and is quick to make way to yours.

“let's go and let's be quick. i want to make you mine, in more ways than one.”

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elsecrytt · 2 days ago

Text

you fucking hate your job.

unfortunately, you also need it.

some old money family hires you to play housekeeper for their weird ass son. satoru gojo, you think.

he's handsome. just looking at him is a treat; stark white hair, bright blue eyes, a face like an actual idol.

and then he opens his mouth. illusion ruined.

whatever. you don't care that much about his "wow! you really didn't dress up for work, huh?" and "so, let me guess... no boyfriend?" you’ve dealt with worse.

you'd been excited when you got this job. you're broke. the pay is great. you're ready to do anything to not get fired.

you keep the apartment completely spotless, despite how many candy wrappers and packages he leaves around, the disaster that is his stupid fancy bathroom.

seriously, who leaves soap and shampoo everywhere like that? who jerks off in the shower that often? throws towels around and knocks bottles and toothbrushes over? it's like he's trying to leave a mess.

you do his laundry, which he just leaves on the floor like a goddamn animal. there's some clothes with gross, crusty white on them.

one time, you'd caught him staring at you while you picked it up, smirking all the while.

this is the guy you’re being paid to look after. and you’re fucking trying! god, do you ever try!

you cook meals from scratch, hours-long, intensive processes. you check his fridge, shamelessly dig through his garbage to see what he likes and try to make things he'll enjoy.

he leaves empty boxes of takeout on the counter, your homemade dinner in the trash, untouched.

it's in your contract. you can't not cook for him. and you can't eat anything, either, not when you're terrified of getting fired and he obviously likes to make you miserable.

and your landlord just informed you last month - rent will be going up. and not by a small amount.

you'd just finished digging yourself out of one hole and life kicks you right back down.

you don't know how you're going to make rent this month. fuck, you don't even know what you're going to have for dinner. if you can afford dinner. if you can even afford to put the heat on tonight.

it's not even a question. obviously the answer is no.

sitting on the plush, luxury couch in gojo’s apartment, you bury your head in your hands, and cry.

maybe you can get another job? but there's only so many hours in the day. you're so fucking sick of working all the time. you already do.

is it too much to ask for life to cut you a fucking break?

"what's wrong?" your least favorite voice interrupts - and a hand on your shoulder, shaking you, none-too-gently.

"don't tell me..." there's that smugness, "are you cryin'?"

"sorry, i just need a minute." you say, swallowing your anger to look him in the eyes. "i just got some bad news. my landlord is raising the rent next month."

"oh?" his tone is only getting worse, "so what? just move out. or get some roommates, or whatever you poor people do."

god, the fucking mouth on this man.

"soooo? sounds like poor planning on your part," satoru says, casually leaning onto the edge of the couch, "i just don't get why you're crying about it. like, that's kinda pathetic, you know?" he snickers -

SLAP

dead silence. a sting on your hand. satoru's face bent to the side. you don't even regret it. not right now, as angry as you are.

"you-" a rant is just about to spring from your lips, and then -

satoru grabs your hands, pulling them into his, right in front of his face.

his cheeks are dusted red. pretty eyes wide and dilated, fixed on you. mouth twisted in a grin.

you glance down to the front of his pants, where a noticeable bulge has formed.

"do it again."

#jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #it's not exactly smut but it's not really sfw #god he's such a jerk. he loves being a jerk #and the moment you slap him for it he will fall over and bare his belly like the dog he is #i have more content like this. reader is VERY upset about the homemade cooking being thrown away #something something making him eat it off the floor #just. hngh. gojo lying prone on the floor. maybe on his stomach #i love making him punchable and then having him get off on being punched #he's exactly the sort of awful gorgeous man who would piss you off bc he's hoping you'll beat him up for it

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soulwrencher · 17 hours ago

Text

ALL STRINGS ATTACHED

vi x reader | summary: vi hates that you're not hers. whatever will she do about her yearning heart? | warnings: not proofread, just a pinch of angst, and also fluff, i think?

"god, how did you get up here?" you were panting like a dog, palms resting on your thighs all the while black dots were starting to impair your vision. but there she was, sitting on a ledge that views over piltover. you have plenty of memories sitting there, memories of times when it seemed like hardships were never-ending. you always had let the grand buildings of this city overbear your troubles, but tonight, the moonlight shining on vi's broad shoulders has shrunk the city. and you had another observation: she was ignoring you, hard at that.

your eyes wander and dance around the rims of her tank top, you won't find answers there, you tell yourself. her jacket hangs off a broken wire fence seemingly untended, but that couldn't keep your attention for long. your eyes trace vi's inked skin, and suddenly your vision clears up, however your heart can't seem to stop palpitating...

so you take a deep breath, which quickly turns into three and a nasty cough.

"what?" vi asks sharply, you're still facing her back. of course you coughing out of all things caught her attention.

"i was—" you watch vi slightly turn her head at the sound of your footsteps approaching.

"—looking for you," you sit down next to her and steal a glance at vi, only to realize you've missed the chance to meet her eyes.

grayish blue eyes are glued to the night sky, vi was trying her hardest to ignore you, but your presence takes up all of her mind. she puffs out her cheeks, eyes you for a second before letting out a big sigh. flirting, meaningless kisses, casual sex, she was no stranger to that. she felt the tension akin to a fitted sheet, felt it stretch in between every single word and glance you exchanged. but the thought of touching you only for the sake of it makes her guts turmoil.

she squeezes her eyes shut and her eyebrows furrow, what was vi thinking about? maybe there was an answer lying on her exposed skin, because how else were you able to explain being distracted by her facial scars and her back tattoo climbing up her neck? you inhale sharply, hold it in your lungs for a second or two and squeeze your thighs together. you didn't understand why you kept running after her, and frankly, vi didn't comprehend why she kept letting you in.

but upon hearing you sigh and watching your head sink, vi couldn't deny it any longer. she looks down at her hands, they were all dry and calloused. she presses her lips into a thin line, this wasn't the time to let insecurities occupy her mind, and besides, do you even care about her? fuck, she really wants you to.

you inch a little closer, until your thighs are touching, vi glances at your knees. you stare into the sky just like she's been doing; you don't know why you wanted to find her, or do you?

"vi," you whisper. tired eyes meet yours for the first time and oh god, you were so close to vi's face too. her eyes keep searching for yours, even though you're right there, rapid eye movement, but this isn't a dream. in fact, this is very real, so real that her name leaving your lips makes her question everything. vi stares at your lips and you blush, but you stopped caring about keeping your composure the second you saw her eyes soften when you called out her name.

and vi is far from keeping her composure, she's all worked up, fingers fiddling. you got her questioning what this all meant, what are we, what are we—

"what are we?" vi blurts. her eyes widen and her cheeks start to look like her hair. silence, you blink hard, you become painfully self conscious, am i breathing too loud? you catch a glimpse of vi's soft eyes, before they're glued down to her hands. hands that always brush against your shoulders ever so gently and fingertips that make you feel like porcelain, she's always been so... soft with you.

so you reach for her hand and rub her palm with your thumb. she notices that you're slightly shaking and glides her fingers over the gap between your thumb and index finger, however stops and rests them on the back of your hand. you were so close, you could feel her breath staggering in anticipation. what is vi hoping for? im setting myself up for failure for sure. but she's scared to take her hand away, it's a simple, easy act, but she can't. she can't take her eyes off of you, she can't stop wondering about you, she doesn't want to let you go. after all, she has lost so much, was it selfish to want something for once? vi knows better than this.

she lets go off your hand, exhales sharply and furrows her eyebrows. ouch.

"i don't know, violet." you really didn't know. you don't want to get hurt again, you can't bear her breaking your heart. your heart wrenches at the sight of vi genuinely looking lost, maybe you cared more than you wanted to. and she's been the one to ask you that question in the first place, so either you get rejected or not, fuck it, there's no going back.

"but i do know you've been hurting," you whisper, carefully reaching for her face to cup, will she let you?

"what do you know," vi mumbles and looks down, but the warmth of her face in your palm was hard to ignore. vi was hard to ignore, she's always been.

so you place a soft kiss on the scar decorating her eyebrow and rub the back of her hand. vi looks at you, from your eyes, to your nose, to your lips. she sighs, once again, and purses her lips. vi doesn't understand why you're not giving up on her, and she understands less why she doesn't want you to. it was a mistake to ask, or was it? was it a mistake when you were holding her calloused hands and kissing her scars?

hesitant glances, shaky palms, but your steady breath grounds her. she cups your face, blood rushes through your body. your cheeks burn, your heart burns, your lips burn under her gaze.

"don't make me regret this, cutie." vi rests her forehead against yours, eyes moving side-to-side before fixating on your lips.

"cutie?" you ask sternly.

"yeah, you're cute," she chuffs while rubbing your cheek. you didn't know why you were pretending to be unshakable, but it didn't matter, because the small smile on the lips vi has been dying to kiss betrayed your facade.

"so... can i?" vi whispers, but her heart screams to tear that facade down. you're taken aback, how did i get here? you get lost in her hungry eyes and your heart drops down between your thighs.

vi's breath tickles your face as you lean in closer to press your lips against the scar on her lip. you back away just an inch and bite down your lip.

and it was all it took to push vi over the edge, enough to drive her absolutely crazy. her chest moves up and down, her hands don't know whether to rest on your face or neck, up and down, her lips brush over yours, up and down.

hungry, sloppy kisses that leave your stomach tingling and your thighs squeezed tightly together. vi's hands were tangled in your hair, lips slightly parted for you to slip your tongue in and for hot breath to escape. your hands travel down her waist, she hiccups.

"you're the cute one," you whisper into her neck, trailing wet kisses up to her lips. vi winces, small noises escape her mouth as her whole body reacts in desperation, she was cute.

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glitteringdust · 1 day ago

Note

Rookanis request: Something where they actually talk about Spite and set boundaries or whatever for their relationship? I *really* wish the game had mentioned that at some point (also I’m just interested in seeing how folks handle it in their stories).

All Spite wants is Rook’s touch.

Ever since she’d started thanking the demon directly for his help, he’d been head over heels at every interaction.

She sees us. She talked to me! Let me talk to her.

It was hard enough for Lucanis to separate his own wants from Spite’s, when they aligned this close. Rook was always giving praise honestly where it was due yet Spite had such a craving for it, it was hard to contain. On top of that, the demon began to crave the usual high fives, the handshakes—any brief moment they were close Spite almost buzzed along the crow's nerves with interest.

Lucanis however…found the thought of her touch much more complicated than that.

The very thought of her touch stoked a desire within, one he could not indulge in while there was a job to do. Entanglements such as this were detrimental to an assassin. Even more so with an overeager demon tugging at the chains.

Then they'd almost kissed.

Exchanged heated glances, after that. Thanks to Spite, he knew the exact number of footsteps it took for Rook to get to his room from the eluvian. He knew what those footsteps sounded like, light against the stone floor. A distinct rhythm, not unlike a heart beat at rest.

It doesn't surprise him, when she knocks twice and enters the room. The last ten steps have her standing before his seated spot on the bed.

It does surprise him, when she runs a finger under his chin, pulling his gaze to hers.

“Stop me, if this is not what you want.”

As she moves forward, he moves back until she is straddling him, his back inches from the wall. Her weight is welcome against him, anticipation tingling along his skin as her breath ghosts over his face.

Rook was so close. So close.

She was going to kiss him, a fact he was only just becoming aware of when her lips meet his.

Mierda.

Lucanis kisses her in a calculated way, slow and specific and bleeding a kind of desire he’d never afford himself usually. He wanted to get each one right, savoring this moment as long as he could. He rests one hand along the small of her back, and cradles her head with the other as he tastes her lips again and again. He can't help the pleased sound that escapes as she runs her fingers along his temples, and then through his hair.

Everything is abuzz, every nerve and inch of him consumed by her. He can barely feel the shift in the air, the scent of blackberry and ozone dancing along his tongue. The fingers in his hair grip him tighter, Rook's breath quickening as his lips travel from her mouth down her jaw, along her neck, teeth grazing her throat and the junction between shoulder and neck…

“Lucanis.”

She's pushing him away, albeit so, so gently. He grunts out what he hopes is acknowledgement, untangling the haze over his mind. Brown eyes meet her blue, and as he regains a sense of reality he releases the grip his one hand had on her hair.

They both catch their breath.

“That was not only you, kissing me just now.”

He goes still. Rook makes no move to leave his lap, arms still draped around his neck and gaze nothing but soft.

“Spite has always been intrigued by you, but he knows what I feel, too. It's… hard to explain.”

“Does it bother you, what Spite thinks of me?”

He doesn't answer for a moment.

“Sometimes, it's hard to know where he ends and I begin. Especially when we agree on something.”

Rook tastes good. Feels good.

“Sharing a body must only make that worse.”

“It amplifies it. Makes what I feel more real than anything.” He looks away briefly, “What he and I feel for you… cannot be separated anymore. Are you okay with that?”

She doesn’t even hesitate, “I am. Are you?”

Most of his life had been decided for him by Caterina. Lucanis had very little say in most of the things he’d faced, and he’d faced betrayal and possession by a demon. If it hadn’t been for Rook’s understanding and kindness, where would he even be?

For the first time in his life, this choice was up to him.

"I want you, Khalia, with all that I am."

He'd ask the demon what he thought, but the only decisions Spite wanted to make were new places to kiss Rook. The buttons of her shirt had almost succumbed to Spite's clumsy fingers, but demons lacked dexterity.

Next time, we tear it open.

“Spite, can you not? Mierda.”

Rook laughs, “What's he saying?”

“Thinking of new places to kiss you. He's mad you have so many buttons.”

A cheeky grin, one that sets his insides fluttering, “Well, I can't say I don't like where that's going.”

She leans in, capturing his mouth in hers again. Nimble fingers slowly work their way along those buttons.

He could do this all day.

#dragon age veilguard #lucanis dellamorte #rookanis #lucanis x rook #rook x lucanis #my writing #khalia aldwir #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age #rookanis fanfiction #dav #datv #spite x rook x lucanis

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brbsoulnomming · 5 hours ago

Text

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 8

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

-----

The kids leave the next day, after Steve's heart has mostly reformed itself. It's still a little beat up and mangled, but it's clearly a heart again, and it barely hurts anymore.

He doesn't know how he'll ever be able to thank them.

Eddie doesn't call.

—

His house stops being empty.

Robin's over almost constantly, their hearts in each other's chests more often than not. He can tell Robin's worried about him, and he likes feeling her emotions - it tells him when she's upset, or sad, and he can respond without her having to say anything.

The rest of the kids are over almost as constantly, as though his house has just become the de facto hang out.

He minds it a lot less than he pretends to.

Erica sulks at him, and he can't figure out why until Lucas makes a comment about their heart sharing and she rolls her eyes so hard he's afraid they're going to pop out.

Steve frowns at her, hanging back after the others have gone on into the kitchen.

“That's an extra level of snide, even for you,” he says.

She gives him a look. “You want it directed at you?”

He holds up his hands. “What'd I do?”

Her look only becomes more unimpressed. “You had my brother over for your little healing pow-wow? He wasn't even part of Scoops Troop.”

Oh.

That's.

Oh.

Never in a hundred years did he think Erica Sinclair would be throwing a fit because she didn't get to be a part of their group heart sharing, but here it is.

“You want to swap?” Steve asks.

Erica scoffs at him. “I don't need your pity heart exchange.”

“It's not pity,” he protests.

This time the look practically burns through him.

“Robin and I do it all the time,” he insists. “It's easier. It means we can understand the way the other one feels without having to figure out how to say it.”

Her eyebrows raise. “And you want to know how I feel?”

Steve holds out his hand in response.

She stares at him for a long moment, then sighs in a far too long suffering manner before she takes her heart out and gives it to him. He exchanges his for hers, and -

“Is it messed up again?” Dustin demands. “Why didn't you tell me?”

He honestly isn't sure if the surge of somewhat affectionate irritation he feels is his or Erica's, and he exchanges what he suspects is a near identical look with her.

Dustin narrows his eyes at them. “What's this look you're doing, I really don't like it on both of you.”

“That's because it's bad news for you,” Erica retorts.

“We're just swapping,” Steve says.

“It's what you do when someone is a little too hard headed and out of touch with their feelings to realize how insensitive they're being.”

That is absolutely not what Steve had been going for, but Erica says it with such superiority and Dustin is looking so contemplative at it that he just sighs and goes with it.

Erica shoots him a smug little look - she knows exactly what she's doing and how he feels about it.

“Mike!” Dustin shouts. “Come here, we're swapping, so you can know that I'm right!”

Steve groans, but there's no stopping it now.

Swaps are called to settle arguments, to prove that this movie really is scary guys come on, for a dozen other reasons until Steve honestly can't be sure who has whose heart at any given moment.

He'd worry about the effects of so much heart swapping, but - the kids seem happy. Sometimes he even catches them just sitting with each other and swapping, and after everything they've lost - who is he to say what's healthy and what isn't?

Steve can't complain.

Well. He can, and he does, but he also knows this is probably the happiest he's ever been in this house, so he doesn't complain too much.

—

Eddie still doesn't call.

He doesn't answer, either, when Steve calls him. Any of the times Steve calls him.

Steve drives out there, once, stupidly. He's pretty sure he can hear Eddie's music, but the trailer’s dark, and no one answers.

Steve takes the hint after that.

He doesn't let anyone but Robin swap with him for a while, as long as he can get away with. He doesn't really have a name for what he's feeling - he doesn't want to put a name to what he's feeling - and she doesn't make him.

—

The Hopper-Byers are moving.

None of the party take it well, but it seems to hit Max the hardest.

Or at least, he assumes it does, because she's suddenly not over for a week straight, and Steve knows avoidance when he sees it.

He finds her sitting at the skate park, all alone, but she doesn't protest when he sits down next to her.

“Swap?” Steve asks softly.

Max rolls her eyes. “I'm fine.”

He gives her the most unimpressed look he can muster.

She scoffs, then gives him one right back. “Okay, so, what, you want to feel angry and miserable too?”

Steve weighs his options for a moment, considering how to respond, then decides just to go for honesty. “Yeah,” he says simply. “I'm not here just for the good stuff, Mayfield, I'm here for all of it.”

She looks at him for a long moment, her expression hard. Then she wrenches her chest open.

He pops his open, too, taking his heart out and offering it to her. Steve expects her to take it and put her own in his hand, but instead she shoves her own heart into his chest before he can so much as blink, snatching his out of his hand. He blinks at her, but - yeah, okay, fine, that works.

She is angry, and miserable. She hated Billy, and she's still sad, and El is the only one who really gets her, and she knows that's not true, and everyone leaves, and he hasn't left, and she loves and she hates and she's so tired.

Steve can't really put any of it into words, but he doesn't have to.

He just has to be there.

—

School starts, and it gets quieter. He and Dustin still have their weekly movie nights, and he plays ball with Lucas, cooks dinner with Max, but Robin's the only one over as much as she used to be.

It's - actually fine, this time. He gets a job at Family Video, and he hangs out with Robin and spends time with the kids and goes on dates, and he's still happy.

Well, except the going on dates bit. Something's missing, something obvious, but he tells himself that's fine, too.

—

Dustin starts talking about Eddie, a few months into school.

Well, he talks about Hellfire, which Steve doesn't really put together at first, but he's happy Dustin's having fun with his club.

When he mentions Eddie, Steve probes a little, asks how he joined up. Dustin lights up, talking about how Eddie looked out for them starting from day one, even if he's definitely a little scary at times, and Steve -

“Swap?” Robin asks the second she gets to his house later, like she took one look at him and knew he needed it.

They both need it, actually.

She has feelings about Vickie, and he has feelings about Eddie, and they're both complicated and messy and neither of them know what to do about it.

“Ask her out,” Steve tells her.

“She doesn't even like girls!”

“How do you know?”

And that's - point, okay, Steve has nothing to counter that. Yet. He just has to start collecting proof.

Robin feels his intentions and gives a dramatic huff, but she doesn't try to stop him.

She won't admit it, but she's grateful.

“Do you regret asking Eddie out?” she asks.

He makes a face. “I mean, I didn't ask him out so much as take him out a bunch of times, realize like halfway through it that's what I was doing, and then he ran the second I made it obvious, so… I guess I regret not actually asking him.”

She considers that. “Do you think it would have changed anything?”

“I don't know,” he admits. “Maybe I could have made it so he didn't feel like he had to run, maybe we could have still been friends? I wish I'd known what I was doing and I'd done it different, but… I think I'd regret it more if I didn't try at all.”

She drops her shoulder against his. “Of course you would. You always go for what you want, it's like you have no fear.”

He has plenty of fear - she's felt it - but not about shooting his shot. She's right; he's a man of action, and he's not sure he knows how to be anything else.

“Ugh, let's stop talking about it. I'm glad he's still a good guy and is watching out for the little shits, end of story.”

It's not the end of the story, but for now, they both let it be.

—

Dustin calls him to beg him to play in Hellfire with him, and Steve groans audibly.

“Does Eddie know you're asking me?” he asks.

Dustin scoffs. “Of course not, but I have to show up with someone on Friday.”

Steve frowns. “On Friday? That's the championship game. Lucas is playing.”

Dustin groans, and Steve makes a little bit of a face at himself when he realizes the kid sounds almost exactly like him.

“Don't remind me,” Dustin grumbles. “He's the reason we have to find someone in the first place.”

“Lucas asked you to find someone to sub in for him?”

Steve doesn't even need Dustin's heart to be able to tell the silence that follows is guilty as hell.

“Dustin,” Steve says.

“Ugh, fine! Lucas asked us to come to the stupid game. He asked us to get Eddie to move Hellfire so he wouldn't miss the last session.”

“And did you?” Steve prompts.

“Of course!” Dustin says, indignant. “Eddie was pissed. Called Lucas a traitor, said now it was our responsibility to find someone to fill in for Lucas since he ditched us.”

That - isn’t what Steve was expecting at all.

“And instead of standing up for Lucas, you're doing what Eddie says?”

“He ditched us!” Dustin insists.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Go swap with Lucas.”

Dustin makes an almost incomprehensible noise of protest.

“Swap with Lucas, and tell him what Eddie said. If you guys come to an agreement and you still need a sub, I'll think about it.”

He'd rather watch Lucas play, and that's sure as hell what he's going to do if Dustin doesn't follow through, but if both Lucas and Dustin agree, then he'll sub in.

Not just to give Eddie a piece of his mind about this whole thing.

“You're no help!” Dustin retorts, hanging the phone up.

Robin leans against him. “Are we talking about it now?”

He considers that, then wordlessly takes his heart out and offers it to her. They swap, sitting in silence for a moment as they adjust to each other's feelings.

She's upset. He is, too, though not about exactly the same thing.

“I'm still not mad at him for how things went between him and me,” he says.

“I am,” she replies, sharp and firm. “He made your heart hurt, I still think I should get to kick his ass.”

It's not Eddie's fault, though, not as far as Steve's concerned. Steve was the one that fumbled around without knowing what he was doing, that came on too strong. He didn't get it then, but now that he knows Robin and Will and how difficult things are for them - he understands it better.

But one of the things that made Steve fall for Eddie in the first place was the way he watched out for people. It wasn't the same way Steve did it, but - they were both protective, both willing to take the hits so other people wouldn't have to. It's disappointing to see how he's pitting the kids against each other like this.

He wishes they were still friends, wishes he could call him and ask what was going on.

“If he hurts one of the kids’ hearts, then you can kick his ass,” he says finally, once he's worked through his feelings and felt Robin's support.

—

It comes back, because it always does.

It comes back, and Eddie comes back, and Steve wasn't expecting that.

—

There's tension in the boathouse even after everything's been explained, and Steve knows everyone can feel it.

Knows because it's only a few moments before Dustin's announcing, “Hearts out! We'll show you we mean it, right, guys?”

Steve sneaks a look over at Max. He still hasn't gotten a really good look at her heart since after the 4th, but maybe - no, she clearly hasn't shown anyone else here, because she's gone pale, and she looks a combination of pissed and afraid.

“Dustin,” Steve snaps, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice and failing a little. “Did you forget that some of us have hearts that aren't all that reassuring to see?”

Dustin's expression scrunches for a moment, and Steve feels most of his irritation fade away as he realizes that, yeah, Dustin did forget that.

“Oh,” Dustin says quietly. “It's okay, Steve, you don't-”

“No,” he cuts him off, still a little annoyed. “Look, we all know that I'm the one causing doubt here, right? I'll show my heart so Munson knows I mean it and we can get this over with.”

He doesn't want to, but he wants even less for this to put a spotlight on Max.

So he takes his heart out, gets back in close enough for Eddie to see it, says, “We're not lying, man, I promise.”

His heart beats true, true, true in his hands, but Eddie's eyes are going wide and wet as he stares at Steve's heart, and he isn't any less pale.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers. “What the hell happened?”

“Nothing you have to worry about,” he replies, putting his heart back in his chest as soon as he can. “It's not going to happen to you.”

It comes out a little more protective than he'd intended, and it makes Eddie's eyes dart up to his, trying to search for something in there. Steve can't tell what, and he doesn't have Eddie's heart in his chest to help him out.

Strange, how quickly he's come to rely on having that familiarity with those he cares about.

Less strange that Eddie is still someone he cares about.

“Do you want to see mine?” Eddie asks, soft enough that Steve's pretty sure he's the only one who can hear it.

Steve does, is the thing. He really does.

But not like this.

“Do you want me to?” he asks, just as soft.

Eddie looks away, silent enough that Steve knows what the answer is without him saying anything.

“People try to make me show it all the time,” Eddie says, a little bitter. “I'm not trustworthy, you know. I'm not honest. I'm just going to screw them over.”

Steve's quiet for a moment, unsure what to say. He doesn't know how to tell him that Steve's never seen him that way, that all those other people are stupid.

Finally, he settles on, “I still haven't asked.”

Eddie turns to look at him again, his eyes gone molten. “No,” he says softly. “You haven't.”

Steve gives a half shrug. “There you go then.”

-----

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally @thatdamnfan @justalittledrainbamage @strangerfolks @disrespectedgoatman @amber-ambience @anxietyfulloption @thepossummoldypasta @irregular-child @th30ra3k3n

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #robin buckley #dustin henderson #max mayfield #erica sinclair

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on-a-lucky-tide · 9 hours ago

Text

Simon's body matures into its prime. There's only one mate he wants. #GhostPriceWeek.

Day One: Confession/Kneel.

cw: omegaverse, penetrative sex, dubcon by nature of Price's sex negative attitude, gentle sex, bonding. ( @gomzdrawfr )

Simon wasn't sure what had changed or why, but he knew he was looking at Price differently these days and he couldn't ignore it for much fuckin’ longer. It was driving him even more insane than he already was.

Price had been helping him–them, all of ‘em–through ruts for the last few years. When it had just been the two of them, Simon would spend the few days leave in Price's Hereford flat exhausting himself between Price's legs and then they would return to normal once the cycle had passed. It had been hard at first, trusting someone, but like in everything, Price had his back. He had only ever treated Simon with dignity and respect.

When the other two joined, Simon didn't bat an eyelid. It made sense. Price was logical like that; easier for them to fuck him and get it over with in a few days, than long it out over a week and risk them snooping around the local villages, potentially ending up with a pup brewing and an angry farmer at the barrack gates with a shotgun. Johnny had priors with it too. Simon had seen the indiscretions on his record, and Gaz was so painfully good-looking that Simon wouldn't be surprised if there were already a few Garrick pups knocking about North London.

The arrangement bloody worked. Everyone seemed satisfied. So why had Simon started… yearning?

The word had appeared when he'd googled his symptoms one day in a coffee shop. He'd headed off base to do it because all the search histories passed over Price's desk at some point, with questionable or worrying shit highlighted by the IT team for review, and he really didn't need that conversation. “Why are your guts aching, Simon? Do you need medical?” Price would ask, that stern line between his brows, lips pressed down in a deep frown.

No, sir, my intestines seem to twist themselves in knots every time I see you shirtless at the moment and I can't stop thinkin' about how much I want to shove my tongue down yer throat, now about that requisition form…

But it wouldn't be like that. Simon would stand there in dumb silence trying to find the words to explain that being around Price at the moment made him ache in ways he had never experienced before. That when he was alone in his own flat a short bus ride away from base, he thought of their time together with a hand around his knot and his knuckles between his teeth. He thought about how good the indomitable John Price would look in the throes of heat, completely vulnerable.

He must have been acting differently, because Price had become more distant. Detached, almost. He was shorter, sharper, than Simon had ever known him to be, even when his temper occasionally flared in the face of red tape and stupidity. Simon needed to get this, whatever this was, under control.

Sitting in that café with his black coffee and Bakewell tart, Simon had learned that an alpha of his age was reaching full maturity and his body was ready to find a permanent mate. By mid-thirties, an alpha’s strength and esteem within a pack was fully established, or it would be if the world still worked like it did a few thousand years ago. If they were still in loincloths, Simon would have battered his fair share of pack alphas and worked his way to the top by now. An omega would select him as worthy and choose him to father their pups. His body was just doing what it had done throughout millennia. Preparing.

In all honesty, his sex ed’ had been woefully lacking. Partly because the mixed comprehensive he had attended had been in special measures and the PSHE lessons had been all out brawls at some points, but also because his attendance had dropped below fifty percent fairly regularly throughout his compulsory education. ‘Very intelligent and capable, but limited by his frequent absences,’ had been his school report a few months before he had scraped just enough GCSEs to fall into a trade apprenticeship, and then September eleventh had happened and his whole world outlook had changed.

The guidance on the website also told him that his scent would change. That he might experience more attention from fertile omegas, and notice their scents more, their bodies. There was a paragraph about consent that followed and Simon had winced at the implications of needing it. He had met enough knotheads in his time even outside his own deranged father, fuckin’ Roba, to know why it was there. While most omegas were dominant and fierce by nature, the modern world had flipped things. Sometimes it just wasn't that straight forward.

The notes said it would pass. By late forties, his hormones would ebb away to normal levels again and by then he'd either be mated or, in his case, probably dead. The odds weren’t exactly in his bloody favour with his current choice of career. They also said his attention would probably flit between options, from omega to omega, as his body sought to spread its genetics as far as possible.

Except it fucking didn't, did it?

There were other omegas on base. A gorgeous blonde in logistics with tits and arse for days, a strapping redheaded mechanic with strong thighs and a pretty smile, then there was the brunette in medical. But those are cursory observations. Simon saw them as attractive in the detached manner you looked at someone who was attractive in the traditional sense. Yeah, he could see it, but he didn't want it.

He wanted Price. His fockin’ captain.

Tart and coffee finished, Simon had headed back to base. He tried to exhaust himself in the gym, finished some paperwork, and eventually wandered to the mess hall for some dinner. It was just as he was tucking into a pile of mashed potatoes and gravy that his phone pinged.

CJP: My office.

Simon chucked his tray onto the trolley and headed out. By the time he was knocking on Price's door, his heart was beating hard in anticipation. Of fuckin’ what, he had no idea. Clearly needed to watch less porn because the image his mind provided of Price spread out on his desk, presenting, was bloody unhelpful.

“Simon.” Price acknowledged him with a glance as he shut the door behind him. The room was warm, the old radiator beneath the window chucking out more heat than was strictly necessary this early in October. The lights were dim too, the brightness on Price's monitor turned down lower, and there was a subtle, sweet scent beneath the must of paper, furniture polish and old wallpaper that usually hung in the air.

The primal part of Simon recognised it for what it was, and the rest of him caught up as he got a good look at Price; his cheeks flushed, his blue eyes bright. Pre-heat. Price was getting more sensitive to everything; light, the cold. The smell in here had to be bloody awful to his sensitive nose. Simon blinked slowly, taking a deep breath through the fabric of the mask just to taste more of that glorious promise. If he could lick it out of the air, he would.

“We've got a problem,” Price murmured, slumping back in his chair, his fingers wounded together over his belly.

Simon didn't need to ask. He knew. “S’not a problem, sir. I can keep it under control.”

Price looked down, his face twisting in a brief grimace as he considered the edge of his desk. “S’not just you, Simon. It's me as well.”

Simon blinked, shifting his weight. “Wot?”

“Yer think I can't smell ya? When ya left the gym few hours ago I was meetin’ with Saunders about some performance data. Could smell ya from the otherside of the corridor.”

“Weren’t that fockin’ bad…”

“T’ normal man, no.”

There was an edge in Price's voice. Simon knew his secondary sex was a sore spot. If Price could have chosen, he would have been born an alpha. He despised everything about what he viewed as his ‘condition’. No one else knew, of course. The captain played his personal life close to his chest. Most of the time people assumed he was an alpha and didn’t look any closer. He was six foot two, built like a soldier should be; there was no reason to assume otherwise.

Perfect in every way, Simon's mind offered unhelpfully. Followed by an intrusive thought about how strong and intelligent their pups would be. Fuckin’ ‘ell.

“Was’the plan?”

Because there was always a plan and Simon would follow Price into hellfire if he asked.

“Thought about sending you away, reassigning you,” Price said, his gaze flicking up to level Simon with a pensive look. “Bu’ I couldn't. Need ya. 141 needs ya.”

Simon realised he could breathe again. The mere idea that Price would send him away - to fuckin’ where? No reasonable officer would take him on - left him frozen, every muscle seizing like he'd been turned to stone. Need ya.

Not just the 141. But Price. Price needed him.

“Then wot? Wot we doin’ ‘ere?” Simon’s voice crackled, the words cloying in his throat.

That grimace was back. A pinched look of regret pulled Price’s lips back, his eyes squinting. He scrubbed a hand over his beard and breathed in a deep breath through his nose. “Gonna ask ya sommin’. Ya can say no. S’your right t’ say no. Ya’understand?”

Simon’s fingers clenched into his palms, and he dipped his chin in a barely perceptible nod.

“This… whatever it is. Could put ‘em danger, Johnny, Gaz, any soldier we have with us. It's foggin’ our minds, distractin’ us. I can't afford that in the field,” Price spoke slowly, like he was trying to reason with himself as well as Simon. “Way I see it is we need t’ nip it in the bud. Best way to do that is give it what it needs. A bond.”

An errant gust of wind could have knocked Simon to the floor at that moment. Like a giant rotten oak tree barely clinging on in the soil. His mouth went dry, huffing in another deep lungful of Price's scent as his heart accelerated in his chest.

“I know ‘m askin’ a lot of ya. More an’ I ever have. But what we do, the greater good we fight for, s’too important t’--”

“Yeah.”

“Wot?”

“Yeah, I'll do it. I wan’ it. Wan’ you.” The confession tripped out of Simon's mouth before he could stop it. He stepped up to the desk, his hands planting on the surface, which, in hindsight, had probably been a poor choice. He watched Price tense in his chair briefly, before he slowly rose to his feet, weathered palms planting opposite Simon's to level him with a stern look.

“That's the hormones talkin’. Ya need t’ think it through.”

“Naw, I don’t,” Simon said, studying the freckles on Price's face, the sun damage on his forehead, the wrinkles around bright blue eyes, strong jaw framed by his uneven beard. A face he linked with safety and certainty and leadership. “S'you, s’always been you.”

Price dropped his eyes away, his head hanging for a moment, the sigh that followed sounded dog tired. When he looked up, those blue eyes had hardened, the light dulled.. “Simon, ya committin’ to a bond. S’for life. And ya not gettin’ a sweet thing that’ll fawn over ya. I'm not gonna give ya a pup, no family of yer own, ‘m not gonna kneel for ya, not gonna walk barefoot round yer kitchen, do ya laundry. ‘m not some pretty arm piece, Simon. Few years of lookin’, ya might find yerself a proper mate.”

“Don't care ‘bout any of that. Never have.”

“Because ya never gave yerself a chance,” Price growled, rubbing at his face again. “Take a day. Think about it. Fer…” he swallowed, “...fer me, if not for yerself.”

Simon could smell something new. It was bitter on the back of his tongue. Distress. He lifted one of his hands without thinking, reaching for Price's face, but the captain flinched back. It was an involuntary response and Simon hated himself for causing it. “Sorry,” he grunted, fingers curling into his palm.

“S’fine, jus’...” Price stood up straight, adjusting his t-shirt, thumbs hooking in his belt. Recovering himself, “...go, fink it over, don't give me an answer ‘til tomorrow after work.”

“Right.” Simon stepped back from the desk even though every instinct was screaming at him to protect Price from whatever was causing that smell. There was no immediate threat so he couldn't even fight something; his entire skill set rendered useless in the face of whatever battle was going on inside Price's head. “See you for mornin’ briefing, sir.”

Price nodded. Simon left.

He didn't sleep that night. He stared up into the gloomy grey above his bed, wholly fixated on the parting image of Price, his face pinched, his scent riddled with distress and misery. He didn't want this, did he? Didn't want Simon like Simon wanted him. But what was new? Simon was perpetually unwanted. It was the story of his life.

This was the right thing though. For the 141 and, Simon knew, for him. A mate like Price was more than he could have ever aspired to in normal circumstances. He had resigned himself to dying unbonded, to never experiencing what it felt like to be one with another person, to hear their voice and feel peace, to smell their scent and feel joy, to taste their skin, hold them, and feel whole.

He had given himself to Price in all but bond anyway. This was a natural next step, even if Price himself seemed conflicted. It was an imperfect solution, riddled with grey, the cracks in the facade papered over, but that was them through and through.

The following day went by slower than a slug crawling across a salt flat. Price was nowhere to be found, sequestered away in his office while he tried to tidy up urgent matters before his three days of booked leave. Simon ran courses with the new batch of rookies up for selection and sparred with Johnny in the gym. The opportunity to exercise his physicality was welcome. His body was strong, capable, the best part of him. The part of him that would serve Price loyally.

After dinner, Simon headed back to Price's office and tapped the door. The voice from the other side sounded even more exhausted than it had the night before. “Simon,” Price said, not looking up from the form in front of him. “Got yer answer then?”

“Yeah,” Simon said, “it's a yes. I accept. I… wan’ to bond with ya.”

Price placed his pen down slowly and leaned back in his chair. There was sweat on his temples and Simon could smell him even stronger than the day before. Fuckin’ delicious. “Right,” Price said. “Simon, you, uh… you need to know my heat, it's uhm… I find it difficult. Never shared it with anyone before.”

Simon could see Price's discomfort. How much he hated exposing this vulnerability. He sniffed, scratched his chin, and finally looked up at Simon's masked face. Simon blinked slowly. “S’ok. We’ll take it at your pace. You headin’ off tonight?”

Price glanced at the duffel bag on the chair by the window and nodded. “Yeah. You, uh… we can wait ‘til next time if you were savin’ yer leave for somethin’ special.”

“Naw, I'm good. You alright to put it through so I can go shove some pants in a bag?”

Price huffed. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, not only approvin’ your leave requests but now I'm fillin’ ‘em in for you lazy bastards.” He tapped at his keyboard and jutted his chin at the door. “G'won. Leavin’ base at nine. Don't be late.”

Simon left Price to do his paperwork and headed back to his quarters. He grabbed some underwear, some clean t-shirts and a pair of flannel shorts, his headphones and the Asimov paperwork he was chewing through at the average pace of a single page every three days. Omegas needed to sleep at some point, right?

The final hour for departure sped by and soon Simon was heading out into the base car park to find Price's old Land Rover chugging away on the tarmac. Price sat in the driver's seat, wrapped in his coat and scarf, beanie pulled low over his ears, breathing into his hands.

“All good?” Price asked as Simon climbed into the passenger seat.

“Yeah. You… uh, you ok to drive?”

Price’s jaw twitched and Simon regretted opening his stupid fucking mouth. “Yeah. Fine. Stupor will set in later. Once I'm…” his voice dropped, “nesting.” He said it like it was an embarrassing admission, not a natural part of his instincts and cycle. Simon didn't probe any further and sat in silence as Price pushed the Landie into first and pulled away. The drive into town was quiet. Price turned on the radio once they'd pulled off base and they listened to the latest chart on BBC Hereford & Worcester.

Price had a little one bedroom flat in Leominster that he commuted from most days. Sometimes he kipped over in the barracks after a long shift and it wasn't unusual to find him asleep in the rec room if a briefing had over run and he was too tired to drive back. The 141 knew it well as they had spent their ruts there since they'd joined the task force. It was cozy, clean, with traces of their captain as a man rather than a legend.

When Simon stepped through the front door, the Land Rover tucked up for the night in the carport, he drew in a deep breath and felt his eyes flutter. He shed his coat and kicked his boots off and watched with no small amount of affection as Price grabbed them immediately to stack next to his, before slipping into a pair of well trodden slippers. “Brew?” Price asked as they headed into the open plan living room.

“Yeah, gaspin’,” Simon said, placing his duffel down by the arm of the couch before slumping into the middle of it. The material was a well worn brushed cotton, with two tartan fleece blankets thrown over the back. Simon pulled his mask over his head and ruffled a hand through his flattened hair, before burying his newly naked face into the scent of Price soaked into the soft material. He could picture him here in the evenings, wrapped up and snoozing, probably snoring his bloody head off like he did on op. But relaxed, at home, nested.

“Yer like a fuckin’ bloodhound,” Price grumbled as he walked over, a steaming mug of tea clutched in each hand.

“I ain't drinkin’ outta that Liverpool mug.”

“Ahh, wind yer neck in, it's mine.” Price dumped the other mug on the coffee table in front of Simon, and then fell into the armchair. Still keeping a slight distance. This was different from when they met to weather Simon's rut. Simon was the vulnerable one in that and he trusted Price implicitly, but now their roles were reversed, and Price wasn’t used to not holding the leash.

Simon slurped a mouthful of tea - perfect brew, strong, two sugars - and glanced at the telly when Price switched it on. The ten o’clock news, a slew of reports about how the world was going to shit and the rich were benefiting from it. Simon was only half paying attention, maybe not even half, because from the corner of his eye he was observing Price.

He was slumped low in the chair, his lips parted, his eyes misty. The scent rolling off of him was saccharin, deeply appealing, and Simon's fingers twitched against the warm ceramic of his mug. Price managed to finish his before his eyes slid closed, his breathing growing a little ragged as his fingers kneaded at the arms of his chair. “Captain?” Simon prompted, his mug landing softly on a coaster.

“Yeah, I'm good…”

“D’ya need anythin’?”

Price swallowed, observing Simon from beneath low lashes. A grimace passed over his face, his thighs pushing together. “Gonna shower… there's scran in the fridge, help yasel’.” His accent thickened briefly as his mind struggled to find purchase, and Simon watched him head into the bedroom with a faint smile. He listened to Price move around his bedroom through the wall, and then the rush of water as he turned the shower on.

How long did he wait? Did he coax? It was usually easier than this. Price led the way, tugging Simon's clothes off, praising him in that rough, no-nonsense way he had; stable, certain. This Price was different. He was distant, anxious, even. Simon waited until the stream of water was disrupted, sloshing against the glass and tiles, before he rolled to his feet.

Maybe it was a shitty thing to do, but he knew he needed to do something. Price was clearly struggling. Limping through the last few hours before his heat settled in and dreading every moment of it. Simon pulled his clothes off, folding them over the laundry basket near the bedroom door, before he walked into the bathroom. He found Price panting in the steam, his hands against the wall as the water streamed down his freckled back, head bowed low between his shoulders.

He wasn't quiet as he slid the glass shower door to the side and slipped into the cubicle, his palm sliding over Price's ribs to glide up his chest. Price startled with a snarl, twisting around to latch a hand around Simon's throat as the other snatched his wrist. “Easy,” Simon whispered, airways restricted as Price squeezed. “Lemme help. Not gonna hurt ya, John.”

Price's shoulders heaved, blue eyes bright and feverish. Simon leaned into the palm at his throat and realised Price’s arm gave. He was shaking. Simon slid a palm up the tiles and eased Price back against his forearm as he pushed further, closer, until his lips slotted to Price’s and his tongue swept into his mouth. Simon used his greater height and bulk to his advantage, enveloping Price in his arms and drawing him into the warmth of his body, hand sliding down his back to his arse to bring their hips together.

Price was skittish, he wanted the kiss but kept drawing back before licking forward again, like he washed clinging onto the cliff edge by his fingernails. His hands scrambled over Simon's chest, pushing him, gripping him, uncertain how to respond to the alpha swamping him. Price wasn't small, not by any standard, but Simon had a little extra, enough to cradle him, make him feel safe. Where Price was athletic and lean in his height and strength, Simon was bulky. Lots for a hungry omega to sink his teeth into.

“Simon…” Price grunted, tensing up as Simon's mouth kissed down his throat to the slope of his neck where his gland sat beneath his skin. His nails bit into Simon's shoulders, lips peeling back in a low growl. “Don't… not… not ready, can't…”

“S’ok, I know,” Simon murmured. “Relax. Need ya t’ trust me. Not gonna hurt ya.”

“‘m… don't judge me, for…”

“Not gonna. None o’ this will make me think anythin’ less of you, sir. S’a gift.”

Price flinched. “S’a curse. I… I fuckin’ hate it.”

“I know,” Simon murmured, opening his mouth to suckle on Price’s neck as he caressed up and down his body. Every pass of his palms over flushed skin seemed to be easing the tension, gentling him into his heat. His touch only paused to grab the soap and shampoo, washing Price tenderly, encouraged by the way he arched and writhed beneath the smooth glide of skin on skin. Simon worshipped every scar, every mole, every dip and curve of muscle. Those ragged pants broke around soft whimpers and soon the steam was saturated with the scent of an aroused omega’s heat.

When his fingers slipped over the full curve of Price’s arse to the crease of his thigh, Price’s foot shifted out, inviting Simon's caress between his legs. Simon gladly provided, fingertips stroking gently over slick folds, pressing a little firmer with each pass until he was teasing Price's hole, tight muscles fluttering at Simon's finger in eager anticipation. “Fuck… you're wet…”

“‘m.. in the shower..” Price rasped, sounding dazed, and Simon smiled against his neck. Tentative hands began to explore Simon’s body, following familiar paths around his full tits and down his stomach to the thick, hot length of his erection pressing into Price’s hips. Simon shifted his own until his shaft could slide between Price's thighs. Spread as they were, it was just a tease, the ridge of his crown drawing back and forth over Price's slit, glans catching across the swell of his own small cock and making him stutter.

Simon moaned into Price’s neck, the scent, the heat, the feeling of Price's strong body yielding to him inch by inch, it was a heady mix that was teasing him higher into feverish excitement. But he couldn't knot Price here. The first one took a while to go down and he didn't fancy keeping six foot plus of omega pinned to cold tiles while they waited for the tie to end.

Simon drew Price out of the water and wrapped him in the warm towel from the radiator. The bedroom was warm, the bed even warmer as Simon lowered Price into it, tugging the towel into the floor, and nudging his thighs apart as he leaned down for a kiss. Simon ground his cock through Price's folds, smearing slick and precum over flushed hot skin. Price arched, opening his hips and hitching his legs high up Simon's sides.

Simon gathered one of Price’s hands and wound their fingers together, pressing them into the mattress above Price's head as he reached down to guide his cock. He held it steady as he thrust his tip into the tight clutch of Price's body, teasing back and forth. It was sweet, sweet torture.

“Simon, hnn, ahh… please…”

“Tell me ya wan’ this.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck… ahh, please…”

“Yer fuckin’ gorgeous, sir. Look at you.”

Simon kissed him, sucking his lips, his tongue, but drew back when he began to thrust in deeper. He wanted to watch Price’s face as he was taken for the first time. The way it relaxed in bewildered pleasure, blue eyes rolling; glistening, kiss-swollen lips parting as a low moan trembled from his chest. Simon bottomed out, his balls pressed to the underside of Price's arse, full and heavy in the heat.

He had never wanted to knot and breed so much in his life. Not even in the chokehold of rut did the urge feel this strong. The scent of heat soaked his tongue, cloyed in his throat, and as Simon began to thrust deep into Price's body, the snug, warm grip of it sucking so eagerly on the thick girth of his prick, Price finally relaxed, his head tilting back as he panted and moaned.

The sheets dampened beneath his arched back, Simon's hand slipping beneath him, encouraging the curve of his spine as Simon sat up on his knees, drawing Price up onto his lap to bounce him down onto his cock with his furred chest pressed up and open, letting Simon suck and kiss his full tits, his dusky nipples pebbled hard in arousal as tongue and teeth swept over them.

Price clenched a hand in Simon’s hair, the other dropping behind him to support his weight against the mattress so he had agency in the roll of his hips, meeting each of Simon’s thrusts over his sweet spot. Now that he didn't need both hands to support Price’s body, Simon snuck one between them, thumb rubbing the swell of Price’s leaking cock. Price got loud, more than the stifled pants of their usual trysts. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck–”

Price's thighs pushed wide as his orgasm curled through him, sinking down until every inch of Simon’s thick cock was inside him. Simon ground in, growling low in his chest as he felt Price pulse and throb around his cock, slick dripping down his balls and thighs. Price was completely lost in pleasure, fockin’ beautiful, flushed and euphoric. He didn't fight when Simon shifted him onto his front and raised his hips, mounting him while on his feet, two big hands pressing down on his waist. Price dropped his chest to the bed and spread his knees wide, cocking his hips so that Simon could thrust deep. It was a natural breeding position and Simon's arousal intensified, cock rock hard as his omega presented.

Watching Price's back muscles flex, his arse cheeks ripple under the force of Simon's thrusts, hearing his blissed out noises as they were punched from his chest, soon teased Simon's knot out of him. It swelled just as Price's second orgasm tightened his hole, and Simon ground forward, circling his hips until it popped inside clenching muscle.

Price cried out, his orgasm intensifying as his body pulsed, instinctually milking Simon for every drop as he came. It was intense; mind-fuckingly good. Simon scrunched his eyes closed and saw lights behind his lids, and he listened as Price’s gravelly voice broke and whimpered through the swells of pleasure rolling through him.

When the aftershocks calmed, Simon eased them onto their sides, wrapping Price in his arms as his knot stayed snug inside his body. He pressed kisses into his damp hair, teased sensitive skin, and whispered praise. They dozed like that, surfacing to exchange lazy kisses before drifting off again. When Simon's knot went down, he drew out gently, only to replace his cock with his fingers. Price's hole was sloppy, loose and relaxed, and Simon groaned low in his throat. “Gonna breed you, love. Gonna make you mine.”

Price chuffed softly in response, thighs flopping open so that Simon could caress him properly, pushing his leaking seed back inside. Simon didn't need asking twice.

They mated throughout the night into the early morning. Simon left the bed long enough to get some food and water, and helped Price with both as the haze of heat made his movements sluggish. After a few hours of sleep, Simon woke him with another knot, holding him back to chest as he slid into him from behind. Each knot was a thorough breeding, their hormones, their scents, their bodies mixing until Price was ready to be bonded.

Simon was hilt deep when he finally sank his teeth into Price's gland. His omega draped over him, back to chest, strong body arched in submission. Simon cupped beneath a thigh, thrusting into him with a semi-inflated knot that was making his eyes roll in overwhelming bliss. He tilted his head away under the guidance of Simon's hand at his chin, and Simon finally claimed the object of his desire, knot swelling inside him and triggering an intense wave of pleasure that made Price's body seize up.

The wound stopped bleeding as Simon licked it. He remembered vaguely reading something about alpha's having a clotting agent in their saliva sparked by the process of mating. Price’s pained huffs faded into softer sighs, and Simon held him as his body adjusted to the sudden surge of hormones in his bloodstream. Simon slid his palm over Price’s belly and cupped beneath its slight swell.

“I know ‘m not your first choice,” Simon whispered in the quiet, his throat hoarse. “But…”

“Simon,” Price murmured, soft, wistful. “You're it. Jus’... always thought ya deserved better ‘an me.”

Simon's heart clenched in his chest, his nose burying in Price's hair. “Ain't nothin’ better ‘an you.”

“Got… bad taste in clothing and men, that bloody bally…”

“Olrigh’ boonie hat,” Simon chuckled, rocking his hips up a little in revenge. Price groaned, his body bearing down around Simon’s knot in a sudden throb of pleasure. “Heard bonded mating is a whole new level, but this… fuck, the noises you make.”

Price huffed softly. “Gettin’ a big head, Riley…”

“Naw, reckon I'm on the money, maybe I need t’ remind you again.” Simon slid a hand down Price's body to stroke his cock, rolling his hips slowly to grind his knot over Price's sweet spot, the stretch just the right side of too much. Price gasped, his back arching, and Simon clamped an arm around his chest to keep him still, giving him no choice but to endure the heated pleasure curling through his hips.

They had another day and a half to secure their bond before they had to return to work, and in that time, Simon would make sure Price never had a reason to dread his heat again.

#captain john price #simon ghost riley #ghostprice #ghostpriceweek #there is definitely a typo or two left #but i am outta time lads #i will scan back through tomorra

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bigball-thefrog · 3 days ago

Note

hey there! once again wishing you good luck on those exams! but i was wondering if maybe you could write something for law?

i was thinking maybe that Law and the reader had met awhile back on the readers island and she like saved him from something when he was a rookie. then obviously she joins his crew and stuff but then one day an incident happens that causes the reader to die and Law is devastated as the years go by

But here’s the twist!☝🏻The reader didn’t actually die but instead she survived and the Strawhats found her wondering around and took her in🙏🏻So know she’s a member of the strawhats, then Law meets her again in Punk Hazard.

The rest is up to you! I just kinda want it to be angsty and heartbreaking when Law meets the reader again like maybe I don’t know she fell for someone else…(if you can…can you make the reader nerdy bc i’m a nerd🧍🏻‍♀️)

Helloooo!!! I'm back and I've finished your request, I hope you like it. I know I said I'd post a few yesterday but I got tired. But I'll try and post than just this today because I've got quite a bit planned. But for now, enjoy more Law suffering

Warnings/Tags:

Female reader

Law can't be happy for a goddam minute before it all goes to shit

______________________________

Narrator POV

You lived a peaceful life in a small village by the sea. Nothing much ever happened until one day you were collecting seaweed when you saw a man about your age wash up on the beach with a polar bear. The Polar begged you for help and you took them both in.

When the man woke up, he thanked you and introduced himself as Law, a rookie pirate, and the Polar bear was his right hand man, Bepo. They stayed with you for awhile and grew kinda close, you knew a lot about botany which and medicine which was good for Law, to help him heal and to improve his skills as a doctor, you both also got along with your shared love the comic, Sora, Warrior of the Sea. When it was time for Law to leave, he invited you to come with, and he accepted, making you the botanist/herbalist of the heart pirates. You grew closer as the days went by, you knew that law was mostly closed off from showing much emotion but you were starting to break down that cold wall around his heart, getting closer than most, even starting to get almost, intimate, with him. But it didn't last long...

At the events of Sabaody, you and the rest of the crew were fighting against the Pacifistas and were struggling to get away, Law was distracted trying to save everyone he didn't even notice he was being aimed at. As it fired, you managed to push Law out the way, causing you to he blasted instead. You went flying from the blast and Law was too slow reach you. He wanted to run after you but he was quickly picked up by Bepo as he ran with him. He struggled but it was no point. Once the fight was over and the marines were gone, Law and the rest of the crew spent all of their time, searching for you and where you went, only leaving when the events of Marineford happened. But you were nowhere to be found... You were gone... Another person, close to Law.. Gone...

--------------------------------------------------

Two years later at Punk Hazzard, Law had just allied with the Strawhats and was following Luffy back to their current hideout so he could swap back the bodies of the crew he changed.

He walked in, first noticed the giant children, then the crew, then... You...? No, it couldn't be, you were dead, you were killed in Sabaody and Law couldn't find your body! How, how were you here?! Why were you here, why didn't you come back to him?! Law stood frozen and it was only when Nami shouted at him to change her back that he snapped out of his thoughts and changed them back, but right after he ignored everyone else and walked right up to you. "Oi..." He called out as he stood right in front of you. You looked up at him, confused but smiled, "Oh, hello. Are you a friend of Luffy's?" "Stop the act, you know who I am.." "No, I don't... Have we met before?" dammit, why were you acting like this?! Of course you two had met before! "Yeah, I'm your captain remember?" you shook your head, "No you're not, Luffy's my captain, I only just joined recently at Sabaody"

Sabaody?! How?? He searched every inch of that island for you!! "Cut the bullshit! You're not apart of the Strawhats! You're apart of my crew! You were a botanist/herbalist that helped me make medicine on my ship! The Polar Tang, remember?!" Law shouted out, you looked at him sympathetically, "I'm sorry but I don't remember... I don't remember much before waking up on Sabaody..." Law clenched his fists, you must've lost your memories when you got blasted by the Pacifistas... And now you don't remember him at all...

Defeated, Law just sat next to you, "Sorry, you just reminded me of an old friend... That I lost two years ago..." "Oh... I'm so sorry..." you frowned and moved a little closer to him, "It's fine... I just miss them a lot, and you look identical to them.." Law mumbled. You both went into a comfortable silence until Law decided to still check up on you despite you not remembering him, "So, how have the Strawhats been treating you?" He asked. He listened to you as you began rambling about all the stuff you've done with them already, you were still making medicine and growing your plants, you assisted Chopper now with the medical filed, but what hurt the most was when you mentioned that you had tarted growing feelings for Zoro. Now that was a punch in the gut, all the close, intimate, personal moments that you shared with Law, gone. Now all your feelings dedicated to the swordsman...

He went quiet again and when you noticed this and tried to apologize but he just looked away, how could he even look at you now that you remember nothing and he remembered everything... You were gone, the person he had grown to love, care for and let down his walls for, was gone... You looked genuinely upset, nit understanding what he was thinking or going through so you just looked down with a frown on your face. When Law glanced back and saw your frown his heart clenched. He hated seeing you frown and be hated being the reason for that frown even more. Maybe, this was for the best? Maybe you were better with the Strawhats, but dammit it hurt so much to think about you not being with him anymore.. But now with the alliance, he could see you for a little longer.. Maybe, he could get ode to you again and maybe something in you would snap and you'd remember... With a deep exhale he turned back to face you and spoke about the first thing you two bonded over, "So... You like Sora, Warrior of the Sea?"

______________________________

Alright, so for tonight, I've got a part 2 of I request I did, then I've just gotten a new request to do, then I'll be posting a poll with three of my ideas that I'll let you all pick the order of which I post them in. I'll see you all real soon.

Kelly🐸

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simp-ly-writes · 15 hours ago

Text

The Comment's Section (pt.9)

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Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: From less like friends (or well still friends) and more like lovers. You and Spencer are riding the wave of having a somewhat public relationship as you announce your newest project!

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, slowburn, fluff, light angst, cheesiness, friends that act like lovers, friends to lovers, mutual pining, attempt at humour, social media au.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART SEVEN | PART EIGHT | PART TEN

─ · · A/N: super long update before the last one!!

─────── · ·

🔔 Netflix just posted! Check it out.

─────── · ·

Liked by (name)s_username, username01, filmingamanda and others

Netflix Get ready to be lassoed into a new series only available on Netflix Fall 2026!

Watch as your favourite stars Tom Hardy, Maya Hawke, and Owen Wilson all take roles within the wild west and star within the live reimagining of the critically acclaimed game, Red Dead Redemption. With co-stars (first/name) (last/name) and Ella Purnell also stepping into the action.

The only question left is will you also be saddling-up for the adventure of a lifetime?

View all 14,998 comments

username01 HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE COOLEST FUCKING NEWS TO DATE- PERIOD.

(name)s_username I'm so incredibly thankful for this opportunity. Already have my boots and cowboy hat ready and waiting!

mayahawke at least I'm not fighting literal demons this time!

username99 OMG this casting?!??! Was someone actually cooking at Netflix OR-

username24 I can already feel the thirst traps happening...

spennser so... THIS IS WAS THE SCRIPT YOU WERE HIDING FROM ME???

↳ (name)s_username yeah... 😬 sorry not sorry! 😘

angelagiovanagiarratana I am going to eat this show.

username00 Kinda worried for this show, hope they stick to the source material!

username88 respect the source and play the frickin' game!

username73 I can already see (name) doing "research." When these over 250+ streamed hours of them playing this game with Spencer 🤣

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🔔 (name)s_username just posted!

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(name)s_username Yeehaw Motherfuckers.

View all 2,880 comments

spennser You know the saying when you wear the hat...

↳ (name)s_username no I don't actually, what does it say? you know I can't read for shit. ↳ spennser umm, I'll tell you at home actually ↳ (name)s_username okay! 😊 ↳ username01 👀💞 oh god.

username44 that was a 180 from how things were going but look how far we've come! they are openly flirting with one another now!

chickenshopdate so you had to get really famous after we dated, wow...

username90 funny that as soon as (name) leaves smosh they immediately start acting like a couple...

phatchance you be out here filling in all those bucket lists bestie, so proud of you! 💞

↳ (name)s_username aww thank you! 😭

tomeybones saddle me up next! wait- that sounds wrong, nevermind! 😳

smosh woah! no wonder you quit! I would too... wait what?

username60 y'all be so freakin' cute- UGH I cannot wait for this series. Marked in the calender boys!

filmingamanda you get that Netflix bag!! 💸

↳ (name)s_username you know it! 😘

shayne_topp this is so freakin cool man, like wtf.

co_mill everyone won't stfu about this, and to be quite honest- I don't ever want to either! 💕

username12 fuck you.

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username, just added to their story, check it out!

─────── · ·

🔔 spennser, just added to their story, check it out!

─────── · ·

🔔 HollywoodNow just posted! check it out?

─────── · ·

Liked by username01, RomComInterviews, (yourshipname)_updates and others

HollywoodNow From cosy mystery partner to mysetry no more! Insider sources have revealed that (first/name) (last/name) is officially off the market ahead of their role in the new cowboy themed Netflix series: Red Dead Redemption. As confirmed by posts on theirs separate social media accounts, (name)'s romantic partner Spencer Agnew seems to be confirmed by a soft launch after years of dating allegations.

Are you happy with this new (but old) couple? Or do you think (name) was better off with one of their co-stars? Let us know down in the comments section below! 👇

View all 1,991 comments

username01 feels surreal, I don't know what to believe anymore even when there is actual admitted to, photo evidence.

username77 I will not give up on (name)! Not until there is a wedding band on their finger will I not be in love with them!

username66 I love that THATS the picture they pick for Spencer 😭

username53 they did my boy Spencer SO dirty on this one- NOT THE FROG!!! 🤣

username00 eh, I'm still speculative. I mean... they have stated over and over again that they are just friends. Whats to say all this drama was not just for publicity leading up to the announcement?

↳ username04 I mean. (name) has already confessed on their instagram that their actions were caused by their change in career/lifestyle that did not reflect who they truly were and admitted to it being entirely their own fault... I don't know how this is all for publicity when they were visibly struggling???

username20 the question of 'is (name) punching down' is disgusting. Like they've practically been together for way? Half a decade if not more??? And you DARE to ask if one if better than the other? Gross. Really, truly gross.

username73 FuUK (NAME) AND F4uck TH3IR FAMILY, THEIRr FRIENDS, AND SPECER.

↳ username88 Learn how to spell before you start typing

username15 proud of them.

username70 I can't wait until they get married! I can just see the cute wedding pictures now!!

─────── · ·

🔔 These tweets are trending right now, retweet it to join the conversation!

─────── · ·

(first/name) (last/name) @ (name)s_username · just now So... am I trending for hate again or??? 👀 Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

Spencer Agnew @ spennser · just now SOMEONE HAVE A SMOSH BABY NOW! I WANT TO EAT PIZZA IN PEACE PLEASE 🙏 /sarcasm (with a degree of not being sarcastic but really serious please.) Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

Hollywood Now @ hollywood_now · just now (Name) and Spencer, a new couple just seen eating out together at a pizzeria. Date night perhaps? Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

username44 @ username44 · just now Anyone else realizing this is why (yourshipname) kept things under wraps for so long? Like let people eat, man! Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

(first/name) (last/name) @ (name)s_username · just now so... looks like we're ordering in from now on! 😳 Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

username31 @ username31 · just now Kinda adorable how (name) does not realize they are kinda really famous now lol

─────── · ·

Some time later...

🔔 (name)_undercover just posted!

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Liked by co_mill, spennser, phatchance, and others

(name)_undercover Mental Health Check-In #51:

Super proud of myself for remember not to water the plants from overwatering them last week! 😬 Decided to pick up Red Dead Redemption again- but the online version! Me and Spencer have been playing it every night together 💕

Also started a new DnD campaign with the Smosh crew on the weekends! It's been great reconnecting with everyone after a break and I'm excited to see where things go. I'm playing as a teifling warlock-bard!

Next Update: ???

comments are limited

spennser I still don't know how you got that combination to work so well together...

↳ (name)s_username what can I say? you're seeing a magician at work 😘

co_mill you two are such cuties! 💕

phatchance I still don't know how you killed that cactus... like boy/girl its a cactus???

↳ (name)s_username I don't know either!!! 😭

anthonypadilla proud of you!

↳ (name)s_username thanks internet dad!

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username, just added to their story, check it out!

─────── · ·

🔔 spennser, just added to their story, check it out!

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)_undercover just posted!

─────── · ·

Liked by co_mill, spennser, phatchance, and others

(name)_undercover Mental Health Check-In #52:

Moved to a new place with Spenncer! So great to have a home to finally call my own- entirely! No more leaky faucets or patchy drywall. Just nice space for us to spread out all our collectibles lol. 😊

Next Update: ???

comments are limited

spennser and they were roomates...

angelagiovanagiarratana in love with the new place! let me know when you're done with it- I want to COOK in your kitchen!

↳ (name)s_username just make sure not to burn the whole house down! 😂 ↳ angelagiovanagiarratana AYE! 👺 I will not!

shayne_topp dang, gotta tell court we need to step our decorating skills up!

tomeybones who's dog?

↳ (name)s_username the neighbours! somehow slipped underneath our fence!

filmingamanda if you still need help unpacking, shoot me a text!

↳ (name)s_username will do! 🫡

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: likes, comments, and reblogs are all appreciated and encouraged!

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala @laurasdrey

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lovebillyhargrove · 3 days ago

Text

Billy opens his eyes in September 1985, in Hawkins hospital, and he's not happy to be alive. If you asked him, he would've preferred to stay dead or — unfortunately he never was dead — in a coma. Lying in bed like a withering away vegetable, blissfully unaware of his own existence or non-existence.

Gods have not been that merciful. Hargrove wakes up and doesn't even know his own body anymore. He needs to learn everything anew, starting with walking, or eating usual food — like an 18-year-old baby, for fuck's sake.

He's also bitter at everyone — yeah, for not fucking telling him !!

Except for Neil. Neil gets another kind of bitterness — quieter, darker, drowned in neverending pain.

Max gets a

"Fuck off, Maxine and shut the damn door." Said to the wall.

The gang of monster-hunters aren't even allowed to take a peek at her angry (and "that dude is so badass") brother.

Owens gets a

"Just leave me alone, Doc. I'm clean, and don't give a fuck about conquering the world anymore. Wasn't able to take a piss without a catheter until recently. I've got problems of a different level to deal with now."

When Steve opens the door to Billy's room, he actually gets talked to.

"Billy? .. Can I come in? .. Hey .. Hi."

Hargrove doesn't look like himself. He's too skinny, un-tanned, has some kind of a scanty beard, even longer hair, and looks like Jesus Christ.

Steve still can't believe it's happening. To come back to life after what Billy's been through? Impossible.

Maybe they put a dummy in the hospital bed.

The dummy opens its eyes, reluctantly turns its head towards Harrington, who is still hovering over the threshold, and doesn't say a word.

"How ..?" Steve's clearing his throat, cause sounds suddenly get stuck in it. "How are you .. feeling?"

The mannequin, who is probably Billy after all, blinks sadly and curls his lips

"Awesome, amigo."

Whew, damn, he's talking.

"Does .. does anything hurt?"

The guy looks at him like he's the dumbest idiot

"My ass hurts. I've been lying here for so long, I don't even know anymore if I have one or not."

Harrington wants to giggle, but that would sound extremely impolite.

He bites his lower lip.

"You look good."

Billy grins maliciously, and Steve is still shifting from foot to foot

"You're.." What's wrong with him?

"Listen, you're.."

"Get out."

"Uhm .. what?"

"You think you're so .. nice? Paying a visit to a poor sick guy? Why? To be a good fucking person? Get the fuck out of here."

"A good .. what?!" Steve tries to move closer to the bed but .. that's definitely stupid. He just feels like a ridiculous scarecrow in the field, with his ears burning

"That's not .. Hargrove. I actually .."

"Fuck you. I don't need you to come here."

"Okay, just .."

"Get lost!" Billy raises his voice

"Can I .."

"NURSE !!"

God.

"Alright! Get better!"

Asshole. Steve slams the door.

***

Three days later, he again tries to visit the boy who is definitely a nobody to him, and Billy again refuses to see him.

You know what, this is just too much ..! Silly games in the sandbox.

As if they weren't two reasonable adults. As if Steve hadn't watched Hargrove die horrifically, and as if he hadn't accompanied him to the hospital in the ambulance that night. Well, he himself was pretty beaten up, and needed a ride to the hospital, so it was kinda .. on the way, but still.

He sort of cared.

Was worried sick, to be honest.

And, listen, Steve generally doesn't take rejection well when he cares about something. Someone.

He's also sure of one thing — water wears the stone away.

So Steve shows up at the hospital again. Just to remind Billy of his existence, hang around the hallway, and when the door opens, give him a deliberately friendly smile and a wave of his hand.

Maybe he's here not to see Hargrove at all, he's got other stuff to do. Maybe he was just passing room number eight by accident.

Harrington is amused at Billy's face every time the guy catches a glimpse of Steve in his vicinity.

The patient either switches on complete indifference and sits there with a pompous ass face, as if they don't even know each other, or hisses like a pissed off cat.

Or he conspiratorially whispers something to the nurse when Harrington peers through the half-closed door — most likely asking her not to let Steve into the room under any circumstances.

But the former king didn't fall off the banana truck either. He has his own ways of influencing others — and begs nurse Miller, who seems to him more compassionate than nurse Fieldstone, to pass Hargrove a note

Dude, talk to me.

Steve turns to Max with a request — to collect some tapes from her brother's room, Metallica, Scorpions, Ratt, Mötley Crüe and his other favorite bands,

And asks Mrs. Miller to give them to the moody patient along with an expensive new Sony cassette player, which Harrington bought yesterday on Main Street.

The next day the player is waiting for Steve at the reception — Billy refused to accept the gift, but Harrington does not give in.

"Could you please put it in the drawer of the bedside table, preferably when he is asleep?"

The plan seems to have worked, at least the player is no longer returned. The guy must be climbing walls from hospital boredom.

One day Harrington gets lucky — he's going up to the second floor and bumps into Hargrove, who is being wheeled somewhere in a chair

"Oh, hi! Hello, Mrs. Miller!"

The nurse nods to him. Billy will not make a scene in front of all people, so he reluctantly grits out through his teeth

"Hi."

"How are you?"

"Great."

Steve notices Billy's cheeks turning pink, and the boy is hiding his eyes — he's obviously not very happy that they met like that, when he is in such a helpless state, for Hargrove has always been the machiest macho, hated any manifestation of weakness. And here he is — in a wheelchair.

"Where are you going?"

The guy's patience snaps loose

"Fuck off, will you?"

Well, let's not tempt the fate too hard.

"Have a nice day, Billy!" Steve is impeccably polite, unlike the frowning patient. However, was that not a whole conversation?

Harrington definitely calls it progress.

One wonderful autumn day, Steve decides to take an ultimate risk. He is in great mood, and he wants to share it.

Harrington swerves through the streets, listening to the radio while driving, a soft smile playing on his lips. On the way to the hospital, Harrington stops at the "Hawkins Bloom" flower shop and buys a bouquet. Whether it's chrysanthemums or dahlias, he doesn't know.

"What kind of flowers does your girlfriend prefer? Here's a beautiful autumn combination .."

"That's not for a girlfriend. It's uh .. for a friend .. he's in hospital? Something more modest, perhaps? But tasteful. Not cheap."

He feels like he's making excuses

Why the hell ..?

Jesus.

Billy definitely won't like this idea, but Steve's gonna do it anyways.

Cause he feels like it. That's valid enough.

So Steve buys the flowers and brings them to the room. He enters brazenly, without asking permission, puts them on the nightstand and moves it away from the bed — so that Billy cannot reach the bouquet and throw it at the visitor.

Oh, and let Hargrove puff, huff and even chuckle stupidly a couple of times as much as he wants — nothing escapes Steve's attentive eyes — blushing and demanding

"Take away these ugly fucking twigs! Are you out of your fucking mind, Harrington?"

Also, threatening him with physical violence

"I would so whip your ass with it, honestly."

Now that's an interesting offer, now we're talking

Harrington only winks at him, smiles

"Get well, okay?"

And rushes out of the room.

Like hardest ice under the persistent heat of the bright spring sun, Hargrove has no choice but to start thawing off, little by little.

One day, Steve arrives at the hospital during reception hours, pokes his head into room number eight

"So how are you? Maybe we should talk?"

Hargrove defiantly rolls his eyes and sighs as though he's so hopelessly tired

"You're such a fucking pain in the ass."

Steve shrugs.

"We are broken up anyway, even though we weren't even together for real, Harrington. Never. For the record. So don't get too carried away."

Billy keeps on grumbling

"You think you brought flowers, gifts, notes, so what? I'm not your chick, for fuck's sake!"

"Well, can we be friends?"

"Nah."

That's fine. He'll come around.

Oh, and did Steve forget to mention they did hook up before all the Mindflayer business went down? Must've slipped his mind in all the commotion.

#harringrove #billy x steve

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ender1821 · 1 day ago

Note

I can't stop thinking about the eye comment... Pearl's tone and the fact that Gem didn't include it in her episode... Hatred isn't the opposite of love, indifference is. Maybe it hurts more, to think that she never saw her eye to eye.

Maybe it hurts more, to think that what they had was just a superficial thing for one of them. Especially when Gem rescued a camel, of all things and mobs, and keep it in her barn.

(Because love is a weakness, and she's known that for a long time now. It’s a wonder how Gem, who swears to hate now, seems to be the one to cling more to what she 'loathes'.)

anon. anon you owe me therapy (/j)

because yeah. maybe Gem being upset about Pearl failing the trivia bot question at first was a bit. too much? at least from Pearl’s perspective, but from Gem’s perspective it can be argued for. half of her skin was corrupted for like at least 6 episodes. she was the one who sent Pearl into the portal. she was the one who got her eye replaced. how can you claim to care, or to even love her if you don’t remember that? was it all for nothing? did it even mean anything?

what is kinda interesting is that, like you’ve mentioned, Gem doesn’t include that bit in her episode? which. is among a few of her questionable editing choices (not negative or critical in any way, just in terms of what that means for her narration) because you’d think that if she wanted to make Pearl look even worse in her eyes and antagonise Pearl in her pov, she’d include Pearl outright saying the equivalent of you sacrificing your eye to open the portal wasn’t important enough for me to remember. but no. it’s Pearl who leaves that clip in… very inch resting indeed…

ALSO. YEAH. THE CAMEL. ohhhhh murder camel how you’ve progressed. of all the mobs Gem thought to preserve, to keep in her barn…it’s a camel

it hurts man. god. they should die i think

#sorry girl its hard to win the idgaf war when your opponent is. well. sleep deprived/oblivious #oh WL!gempearl…how i want you exploded…#life series spoilers #wild life spoilers #asks #mcyt

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devnmon · 1 day ago

Text

wavemother save me...

Summary: You’ve decided your outfit for the day in camp was to be something you’ve never worn before: a robe of the wavemother… which leaves nothing to the imagination. Gale thinks you look beautiful… but he can’t help the affect it has on him. Once you approach the wizard’s tent at night, he knows it’s over for him.

warnings: boobplay, cumming inside, p in v, reader has a larger chest! and gale can’t help being boob-itized.

wc: 3.7k

a/n: ngl this fic popped into my head when i found out how much of a freak gale is… but i couldn’t help it. this is also self indulgent bc i have a similar chest size as i wrote. pls dont take this as me being discriminatory to smaller chests. but we need some rep for the larger chested people out there. anyways, i’ve said enough. enjoy xx

Gale's cheeks burn in your presence.

They run hot because you're walking around camp in a brand new outfit, and he can't control his eyes. Blue, shimmering, and low cut on your chest. Higher on your waist. Gale was perplexed— not only at how you filled the garment out, but the way you walked around as if you weren't wearing something so different than what you usually adorned.

Gale wanted to pluck out the eyes of every man getting the privilege to lay them on your figure. He for one, thought it too violent an act, and decided to brood about it in isolation. You turned heads every time when entering a room, of course the others were going to notice one way or another.

Far be it from him to tell you what to wear, he just wished he were the only one seeing you. Some could call him selfish for a thought so conflicting. But after so long in isolation, he believed he deserved some of that feeling once in a while.

Far from prying eyes in the privacy of his tower was the situation he pined for. Not on the road with others who could gaze upon you however they liked. Gale didn't even want to think up the thoughts that've probably passed over his companion's minds.

But if he lingered too long on that subject, he'd never get anything done. Though the one thing he knew in his heart was that you pined for him, and only him. Brushed past the cunning Astarion and the stunning Shadowheart to choose him, love him.

It was the only thing keeping his mind distracted from the way everyone's eyes ogled at you throughout the day.

It wasn't your fault you were blessed with a figure that made everyone stare; the curves of your hips, of your chest, your strong legs and hands--

Wavemother save me…

Gale's thoughts and the way your curves looked did anything but help the situation. It's done fuck all to help his wandering eyes.

Though every time he stared, you had glanced over to him as if you could sense those eyes of his on you.

He'd even had to cast a calming spell on himself in private to keep the way his body craved yours under wraps. He just hoped no one was prying through his thoughts.

Gale wished you weren't burdened with such a… heavy… chest. Many nights you'd arrive at his tent just aching to have him rub your back because of how much you've carried during the day, both physically and metaphorically.

Glimmering in the sunlight, your dress stuck to your figure in all the right places; ones he's explored with the palm of his hands. His eyes find you again when you circle around to the side of camp where his tent resides. He also spots the red eyes of Astarion following you as you walk about.

It wasn't a secret you had the figure of a goddess and flaunted it when you wanted to. Gale just wished the other men in camp kept their eyes to themselves and didn't gaze so obviously at you.

Light blue looked ravishing on you, and this garment in particular cut deep down to the bottom of your stomach, leaving nothing to imagination. It had in fact also put your fine legs on display, cutting high up your waist. Scales of metallic fabric reflecting off the hot sun, you shone more than fireworks in the night sky.

Each time you walked by, you sent him a sweet smile and spotted the blush on his cheeks that seemed to intensify with every pass. Watching you approach felt aeons long, every speck of gravity doing its job as you walked. It was nothing of a secret how you felt about your figure; rather than hide it away and feel ashamed for your curves, they were put on display in confidence.

With every pass by the purple tent, you could feel his brown eyes tied to your figure from the moment you approached to when you walked away. And you knew Gale /relished/ in watching you walk away. A man of many simple pleasures in life, drinking you in like a good glass of wine.

Distracted /again/ by the valley of your breasts, envisioning them in his hands from nights betwixt the sheets before. Reverberations of his name in the air, tossed up with other profanities and paths to heaven sent pleasure. There was no changing how magnetically pulled his eyes were to you, even if he wished he could stop staring and focus on something else for once.

Most of his energy was used up concentrating on that damned calm emotions spell to keep himself from imploding on the spot.

Soon enough the sun's light lowered past the mountains, covering the camp in warm torch lighting. Gale was on his last limb attempting to keep himself together throughout dinner. The moment it was time to turn in, he was the first to disappear from the campfire. As quickly as he retreated to his tent, exhaustion from constant concentration hit and the spell dropped.

Relief washed over his mind for a quick moment. That is until his thoughts returned and realized the incantations had only prolonged the inevitable. His pants tightened around his groin, making his clothing wildly uncomfortable.

Not a step outside camp, and he was drained beyond belief. A thought to sleep passed over him, but the shuffling of your feet outside his tent said otherwise.

Gale attempted to steady his breaths and close his eyes to feign sleep, but you knew him better than that. He always said goodnight to you before resting your eyes, which came off as highly surprising upon your entry into the tent.

"Gale, you're still in your robes. Don't tell me you've fallen asleep now…"

He peeks one eye open to see you standing above him, "Hm? Oh, no. Just resting my eyes. Long day."

"We didn't even leave camp…" you chuckled, placing your hands on your hips.

The angle he was viewing you from still didn't help the ever growing arousal in his groin. Distractedly pulsing under the cloth of his robe, his clouded mind would continue to do /anything/ but put him to sleep.

"Oh, I mean just… attempting to learn some new spells. Concentration's tough if I'm not well practiced, so…" he chuckles, sitting up to watch you move about. He was lucky his robe was thick enough to hide any evidence of the predicament hardening in his trousers.

"You? Gale Dekarios, master of the Weave, is not practiced in some areas of magic? Woe is me…" you exclaimed, placing your hand dramatically over your chest.

"The Weave has endless areas of magical expertise, I couldn't possibly study them all in my lifetime… but I'd like to try." he admitted, sitting up on the bedroll.

Though with the knowing look on your face, he trailed off and hoped he was telling enough of a fib to convince you. But you both knew deception was not his strong suit.

"Are you sure about that? Because I could've sworn those weren't the incantations you were reciting…" Your eyebrows raised, smiling at his terrible effort to remain undetected.

He then remembers the night he spent teaching you basic incantations, ones you could cast perfectly nowadays after so long.

"Now Gale, you may be a man of the Weave, but that cannot ever stop your wandering eyes. You're terrible at being subtle." You chuckled, sitting down next to him.

"I…" he sighed, "Perhaps you're right."

"You know I am. This garment is pretty and all, but it has been bothering me all day." you sighed, pouting as you moved closer to Gale.

"Well… maybe you should remove it then." He suggested, letting his eyes drag down the canvas of your body shamelessly. The lower tone of his voice made you smirk, glancing downward to spot what he'd tried to keep contained all day long.

"Just… curious but, what made you choose this outfit for the day? It doesn't look like something you'd wear during battle…" you cocked your head at him.

"I-I mean… I for one am not complaining. It just does not seem comfortable."

His sheepish words burn pink on his cheeks, hoping he's not offended you by making an obvious statement.

"Oh, I didn't wear it to be comfortable, sweet wizard. I wore it to steal the breath from your chest."

Gale swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth from the sight of you, choking on your words. It's true-- he's speechless, and there's nothing to be done about how his eyes move accordingly down your body from it.

"Now, help me take this off?"

Gale's eyes lit up, huffing an excited breath before speaking in a low voice. "With pleasure."

You turned your back towards him, letting his hands linger on your waist and dragged upwards, unhooking the chains that held the garment together. Soon as it was a pile of fabric on the floor, Gale's eyes had locked onto you and weren't going anywhere else.

"Lie down and just… relax. This is all for you, Gale. I'm all for you."

Speaking words so soft and gentle to him was still something that felt unearned, as if he didn't deserve to be loved in the way he wished. Almost immediately upon a confession, you'd immediately pledged your heart to him and stayed true to your word about it. There was no end to the things you would do for the man just because you loved him.

His need to be reminded of that was no simple thing to ask for, but even without talking you managed to uncover how he was truly feeling without much more than a glance.

It was no burden; to tell your lover why you'd fallen for him had pride filling your chest.

You would have done anything to make Gale see himself the way you saw him. Dashingly handsome, kind, worthy, good with his tongue and hands.

"I have to say," you began, "your spell work concentration is impressive. But you must be so exhausted…"

"I.. yes, quite." Gale ran a hand through his hickory strands while painting the image of you into his mind.

You could hear his heart pounded in his chest as if he is seeing you for the first time again, succumbing to the moment of bliss as if he never had before.

Brown eyes of your lover darted to paint his eyes over the exposed skin once bare to his view. The valley of your chest was enticing enough, nonetheless when your breasts fluttered freely from the scaled material. Perfectly plush and naturally shaped, they sat with an astuteness.

"You are… a goddess." his whispers fluttered out in the warm light, gazing at you with the tightness in his pants growing by the minute. Your body hovering above him both knocked the air out of his lungs and made time stop.

"And you are the love of my life. No one will ever take me from you."

His head rests on the pillow behind him, trailing your hands down his clothed figure.

"Bit unfair isn't it? You, naked while I'm fully clothed?"

"We'd better fix that then."

You bent down over him, embracing his lips to enchant yourself with his practiced tongue. Running down his chest were your hands, fingertips making a mess of him only by sheer proximity to the tent in his trousers. As Gale lie on his back, those brown eyes filled with the vision of you tossing his clothes to the ground.

He radiated a new kind of pride upon sharing these intimate moments with you, ones he has not shared with anyone else mortal in years. It's a new kind of freedom, to have you and know you trust him with your entire being. To give him part of yourself every day and entrusting you with the same.

Not only were you in front of him in all your glory, but you were still you, gorgeous and his. All his.

His cock throbbed from being confined in his garments all day, pleading and sensitive with the way his crotch jolted upwards when you finally freed his cock.

Alluring eyes met his with a siren’s call, beckoning him to submit and feel all you’re offering him.

"Touch me, like you've wanted to all day. Touch me in the way no one else can. I am yours."

An appreciative hum comes from him as he takes in the image of you.

"I don’t deserve you…” Gale muttered lowly, head swimming with how you shone in the light.

"Gale, please… by the gods, you do…”

Without hesitation, he pressed your lips against his, lavishing in the way your tongue asked for entry this time. Practiced hands move up your back, caressing your skin there before trailing one of his hands down the valley of your chest. Goosebumps lifted across your skin in response, nipples hardening against his chest.

Gale's large hand took point in cupping your breast within his palm, while his thumb ran over the sensitive areola to earn a gasp from you. You were warm and soft in his grasp while your lips moved down his neck.

Each kiss had your tongue flitting against his skin, watching as Gale's head flew back from the sensation. Nothing could've made this moment more perfect; he had everything he ever needed right here. You'd given him more than he thought he deserved, incomparable to anyone else he'd been with in his mortal life. Something about the way you gave, no matter the circumstance. You gave to him your heart, your acts of love and gratitude, with everything inside you. Shamelessly, each time without fail.

To be a receiver is to be worthy, and once you opened his eyes on that which he deserved, it became easier to accept your loving acts.

Down his chest your lips went, dragging your hands along with them for the ride.

"I need you to know,"

Kiss

"that you're enough for me as you are."

Kiss

"I want to show you how much I mean it."

Your last kiss placed right above his navel, where a tuft of hair lay just below, along with his cock standing upright and eager. His brown eyes never left you whilst traversing down his body as if you knew it by heart.

Your nipples ghosted over his skin at times, bringing bouts of sighs to each of you. When you finally gripped him at the base, it was just enough of your touch to make him groan. Gale's low hum reverberated down his chest, where your other hand lay against his torso.

A slow pump of your hand had him resisting with all his might to not thrust his hips up for more friction. You muttered a conjuration spell - one Gale had taught you - and slowly moved your hand up and down, lubricant coating his length.

"If I'd have known this was what you were going to use those spells for…" he chuckles, hiding his blush behind a hand.

"You're lucky I'm a fast learner. Maybe then you would've gotten away with those terrible lies. Though you are a very good teacher."

The compliment had his cock twitching in your hand; perhaps it was that he'd been pent up for too long, or maybe you just knew how to fluster him. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his tip before releasing your hand and began to cup your chest within your own hands.

"What are you…"

You leaned down over him, pressing his cock between the plush of your breasts. His gasp of surprise and pleasurable sensation combined in disbelief that you'd offer him your body in such a way.

"I yearn for this, Gale. For you. To give you my body in such a way. Because I love you."

His arousal was more than heightened when you began moving up and down, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"I love you… more than myself— ahh… For what I would do for you is much more than I could describe in a single breath."

You chuckled, "I know. But tonight is about you. Lay there and look pretty, can you do that for me?"

He nodded, huffing another breath before smiling sheepishly. The pink in his cheeks began to brighten as you continued your movements.

Gale had never been called pretty before, but the instinctive tone of voice it was said in made him hesitant to retort. He had a habit of denying any such compliments only when they didn't pertain to his skillful ways of the Weave. Day by day though, you'd managed to see him blush over said remarks rather than shying away from them.

Perhaps it was easy for you to change him, seeing as he'd devoted his entire heart to you, basking in the warm light you emanated. From being thrust back into the world outside his tower to now, he's felt that same light melting all the walls built up over months of isolation. Gale hadn't been sure whether to embrace that light or shun himself from it until you showed him what a glorious life it could be with you by his side.

His hands gripped at the bedroll cloth, attempting to smother how badly the pleasure you gave was affecting him. Sweat rolled down his temple as his eyes took another glance at you. In your movements you were dedicated, each slow movement another prayer of love.

Gale cursed under his breath, drowning in every slow graze of your skin against the bulging vein of his cock. His chest heaved with every deep breath, concentrating on watching you— though he knew the sight of you like this could make him come fairly easy.

Your nipples grazed the tuft of hair at his base and each time it did so, it was more electrifying than any spell he'd cast. Even as each sensation tormented his brain, etching them behind his eyelids for later, Gale found himself closer to his climax than he would've liked.

"S-stop… gods, I'm close. Don't want to spend myself on your pretty skin. Let me do it somewhere else…"

You looked up, eyes glazed over in want, and you stop instantly before crawling over him. The lightest touches of your torso against his have his breaths turn shaky, knowing how much physical touch sends him over the edge.

"Anything for you, my love."

Your lips pressed against him as you grabbed him by the base and sat down fully on his length. With each inch that pressed into you, Gale felt more pleasure than he thought ever known. You were soaked just by pleasuring him, what a concept to be studied.

Once you were full to the brim, his hands came up to your breasts, twisting your nipple between two of his fingers. His mouth then pressed to the valley in between them, soft kisses that made goosebumps paint your skin.

"Oh, Gale…"

He hummed upon hearing his name, reverberating under your skin and heightening how much you loved his lips even further. Your fingers raked through his hair, nails scratching lightly, but enough to make him sigh again.

Hands traveled from one of your breasts to the other, twisting and pulling and massaging just enough to send you clenching around him. Thus he ended up gripping your waist, watching as your head threw back in pleasure from just his contact.

"This is what you want, isn't it? Torture me with that lavish body of yours just to take me like this when night falls? You truly vex me, my heart, my mind…"

On mind he thrusted deeper into you, beginning to lift your hips above him. You managed to muffle a moan in time, but Gale would be lying to himself if he said he didn't feel his cock throb at the sound.

"Won't last much longer like this…" he managed to get out, taking one of his strong fingers and ran it down your folds before finding your clit.

You clenched around him again, electricity of his touch paralyzing you again. Had the gods truly made him specifically to love you, to know every part as if one with himself? You wondered it all the time, but especially when just a slight touch sent you reeling off into the deep end. Gale was an abyss you chose to swim in, and if you drowned, there was no going back.

His hips pressed up into you whilst lifting yourself above him, bodies combined intimately, soaked in each other's passion. Each of Gale's movements both inside and outside your body jolted you closer to release. His cock kissing the special spot inside you and his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves was enough for you to pull him close as your orgasm neared.

Whispering each other's names truly was the cherry on top, the desperation in Gale's eyes and voice as he quietly moaned sent his hips stuttering inside you.

Both his pleasure and yours heightened to the point of release, enclosing your lips with a kiss and coming undone in each other's arms. The warmth of him transferred to you inside your gushing walls. Gale's movements over your clit helped you ride out your high, wrapping your arms around his neck in exhaustion.

You both stilled for a moment, the air settling as your bodies did, pressed together while your heartbeats steadied.

You felt him soften inside you, pulling off of him before lying down next to his figure. One of your hands traced circles across his chest, passing over the weave mark adorned between his pecs.

“I love you, Gale.”

His eyes lifted to yours, “I love you too, so much more than you know.”

Your lips pressed kisses across his cheeks and then his lips, noting his eyelids becoming heavy with each passing moment.

“My, you really /did/ outdo yourself today. How many times did you cast that spell?”

“I lost count after three…” he chuckled, “but I’m just glad it all brought us to this moment.”

“I am as well. Now, shall we finally have a rest, hm?”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

The rest of your night was spent wrapped in Gale’s arms, falling asleep with his warmth surrounding you. A place you would never get tired of being.

#gale x reader #gale fanfic #gale smut #gale dekarios x reader #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #dividers by thecutestgrotto #dividers by strangergraphics #dividers by antitalenia

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ppthsworstlapdog · 1 day ago

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houseswapped au. second generation fellows.

House's third (and final) year of being a fellow passes. And he really should be moving on, but this is the most fun he's ever had, and we all know how House feels about change. For what it's worth, Chase is apathetic enough to not do anything about it. Besides, House is a very good fellow.

House's fourth year comes. Wilson's time comes to an end, and he moves into the oncology department (he was never going to be a full-time diagnostics guy, anyways. It was always a stepping stone.) Chase is down one fellow, and really, he should have three, but finding a new one is hard, so House might as well stay. But Foreman is pressuring him (for work reasons) and Cameron is too (for personal ones) and fine, he starts looking through the files.

House's fifth year comes. Cuddy leaves - and hear me out - to the ER. She and Cameron are kind of friends, and Cuddy enjoys a fast-paced environment. But she is done with Diagnostics (even if she still consults). Foreman tells Chase that House has got to go. Regretfully, he fires House.

House takes this as a betrayal, and for a while at least, immediately slinks down to work under Chase's number 1 enemy: Treiber (HEAR ME OUT). He thinks changing everything about his life will make the change not hurt as bad (see: end of S3) and this solution works for about a week until he remembers he can't make himself hate Chase and treiber is kind of boring. So now he wants back on the team, and he'll do anything to get it.

Meanwhile, Chase finds a new team. It's not as slow a process as it was before, but he does still have these fellows on trial. Although he considers hiring Cole, in the end he doesn't - no need for someone who would tattle on him to Cameron. He hires Taub (who has no interest in his boss’s personal drama), Kutner (who does, and will spill if pressed), and Thirteen (who will talk to Cameron if it’s to her benefit, but her allegiance is to Chase).

But Foreman said that the success of the department the last few years has allotted the department enough funding for another fellow.

Enter: Amber

Immediately, she's House, just a little more ruthless (than a House not in pain) and a little less of a team player (not that House is much of one). The Housian-ness of her makes her a great candidate for the position, but in the end something about her makes Chase pass her on. (I don't know exactly, I think they interact like once in the show? (as far as I can remember, it was in 97 seconds when she asked Chase to run the test, and he called her out for the way she goaded him into doing it). Maybe he doesn't like it when the manipulation tactics are being directed at HIM. Chase is generally pretty aware of social manipulation (50/50 if Cameron is the culprit) and it coming from an underling is just annoying)

After Amber leaves, House shenanigans himself back into the team. Runs secret lab work, leaves environmental samples on Chase’s desk like a cat bringing dead birds to its owner. Breaks into Foreman’s office (unsuccessful). Annoys Cameron (also unsuccessful). Befriends Kutner to get info on the patient.

Amber starts dating Wilson. Their relationship runs a little differently since this Wilson is only once-divorced (and this Wilson doesn’t have experience with the intensity that canon Wilson has from House. Right person wrong time type thing). Wilson being so inexperienced in relationships is what eventually causes it to end (maybe he proposes to her too early), but Amber won’t die in a bus crash, at least

House, lonely but not Wilson-obsessed-lonely, becomes close to Kutner. Their humour is similar, they have similar enough interests. They go on long bikes on weekends and play video games after work. When Kutner starts feeling particularly bad, he has a buddy to talk to (which sends House into a minor state of caring panic). Kutner LIVES in this au because I said so.

House and Thirteen become close, obviously. He semi-obnoxiously flirts with her in a bro-way. They hang out after work and go to bars together. Like canon, they’re friends, but fellow!House can even begrudgingly admit it

Since Chase is like. Early fourties at MOST he and Taub are the same age. This eventually is too much for Taub and he moves on (although he stays for most of his fellowship)

Before Taub leaves, he ends up spending a lot of time hanging out with Foreman. His young coworkers are insane in a different way then him, and sometimes he needs a break from their (good natured) mocking. Foreman is a good enough companion, and Taub can be Foreman’s (semi-necessary) eyes in the team.

Thirteen and Chase are. Not quite brother and sister not at all father and daughter. They’re bros. Pals. They have an understanding of each other. They’re even friends, beneath the boss/employee relationship. When Thirteen gets out of jail House drives Chase to pick her up.

CHASE AND KUTNER. I think they’re friends. Chase appreciates what Kutner brings to the team, even if he thinks Kutner is too cheery sometimes (envious it’s not a farce?). Kutner respects Chase, and even genuinely likes him, similar to his feelings for House. I don’t actually remember if they exchanged direct words in canon.

The Thirteen position is briefly filled by Masters. The Taub position eventually gets filled by Park (sorry Adams, but unless Chase kills Dibala I don’t think he’s going to jail), but that’s another post for another day

#house md #houseswapped au #robert chase #gregory house

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petricorah · 8 months ago

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scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

#zukka #zukka fanart #sokka #sokka fanart #zuko #zuko fanart #atla #atla fanart #avatar the last airbender #zukka fic rec #myart #yall. yall. dani. this FIC #first off it made me cry twice. not like 'oh im crying' internet speak no. like. eyes are too blurry to read let me stop this for a sec #it is SO GOOD #your prose? amazing #your insights on grief? life changing #THEM??? THEM their relationship and trust #'zuko looked at him and his world shifted on its axis'#ive been thinking about that line for WEEKS STRAIGHT #i can't tell you how many passages i screenshot just because of how beautiful or cute they were #the moment of seeing the painting of sokka's mom? how did you manage to make it so telling character wise--so sweet so PAINful AND so #cute with their relationship?!!?!#'oh so you think i'm beautiful too'#GOD #i had so many scenes i wanted to draw it was crazy #also #'Our loved ones leave impressions on us that can still impact our decisions and feelings even after they're gone'#fuck. had me crying AGAIN #seriously this fic is so wonderful and not just through a zukka lens. truly life changing you're an AMAZING writer #the fandom is so lucky to have you and i can't Believe it took me so long to get around to reading this masterpiece

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icantdothistodaybruh · 1 year ago

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Found this atrocity in my redraw folder from a year ago, I am bawling my fucking eyes out

#I can't look at it for too long but I also can't leave it to rot in that folder for forever #both of those actions feel like a crime #sebaciel #kuroshitpost #my art #unfortunately #8 am i'm going to sleep I can't do this anymore today it was my last straw

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ancha-aus · 2 months ago

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RealAgeAU Drabble - Artist Woes

Hello everyone! I am back with my BS as always and more baby nightmare shenenigans! @spotaus Hope you ready :D

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Ink is a very interesting Pov to write! It was fun! And as always. No beta or anything :D We here to have fun!

*---------------------*

Ink hums a happy song as he slowly sketches out the shape of a very familiar skull. He had beent rying to stay distracted after everything he learned.

He thinks he is doing an okay-ish job! Even if Error calls him an idiot for trying to escape his own new feelings.

Ink just... thinks! He should first get used to his kinda there feelings... and then on his god position! Before he... thinks about some specific feelings.

Ink groans as he grabs his phone and searches the past text messages.

Finding the right conversation quickly.

Hey Ink! Want to hang out with Dream and me? Let me know!

And then the line that Ink blocked his contact.

Ink groans as he just lays on the floor. He is a mess. Why is this so hard? It was never hard to hang out wiht Blue before. It was just nice and easy and it was fun! Now it just feels... different. it feels more important.

Not to forget his stupid feelings now actually work so he realises just how terrified he feels about being an idiot in front of Blue.

Again.

Fuck Blue has seen him do so much stupid shit. How does he deal with that?!

His phone buzzes and he picks it up with a smile before his smile falls. It is a message from Dream.

Of course it isn't a message from Blue. Blue can't send him messages because Ink blocked him!

Which... Blue knows... Ink is sure that Blue hates him or is sad or hurt because of Ink's stupid behaviour and-

HIs phone starts to ring.

Ink almost drops it before picking up "Hey Dream! I was jsut about to answer your text!"

Dream hfufs "Right." he does not sound convinced "Look. I need your help with a situation. Can you come meet us?"

Ink feels his being start to shake slighty. Us. Dream says us. Which means Blue is there!

He hadn't seen Blue since the Gyftmas party. Ink had gotten callen away for more god lessons and he hadn't even had the chance to see if Blue liked the bandana he got him.

And now Ink doens't feel sure enough to ask if Blue likes it. Waht if Blue likes it? What if he doesn't!? What if he likes the bandana but if he hears Ink got it for him he won't like it anymore!?

"Ink?" Dream sounds impatient.

Ink jumps up and rushes to grab his broom "Yeah! Sure! On my way! You send the location?" he has his broom and is already ready to cast the right magic to teleport to another location before remembering he still needs the location.

Dream is silent for a moment before answerign "You feeling okay? We can delay this a few days if you need time to rest-"

"No no no!! I am okay!" Ink rushes to stop Dream. No he needs this! He cna finally hang out wiht Blue again and because Dream is there it will be normal and not at all weird and Ink can maybe try to get an idea of how Blue feels about him and! He needs this! "You send me the location and stuff?"

Dream is quiet for a moment and Ink hears him talk with someone else before Dream answers "I send you it in a text. see you in a bit." and he hangs up.

Ink smiles as he jumps in place as he finds the location. Okay. Okay! He can do this! He can be totally normal! He will have anice hang out and then Blue will think he is cool and maybe Ink can brush off the blocking as an accident thing and everything will be fine!

He uses his broom and melts into a puddle of ink.

It feels like swimming to use his teleporting and he quickly gets to the right location. He jumps out and smiles.

Dream shoots him a grin before shooting the skeleton next to him a smug look. Blue rolls his eye lights at Dream before girnning at Ink himself "Hey Ink."

Ink is frozen. he is wearing the bandana. it looks so good on him but can he just say that? would it be weird for Ink to notice? Ink knows his memory isnt the best. would it seem obsessive if Ink noticed a difference?

Blue's grin falls as he looks worried and to the side. Oh shit he is quiet for too long isn't he?!

Ink rushes over "Hey Blue! Hey dream. It has been a while! I got busy and stuff. God stuff is weird! Hah! I mean Dream knows as well so i don't doubt you know it as well! I mena you two always hang out and stuff so of course you know. Not that that is wrong! I mean you two are best friends! It is normal!"

Oh please shut up shut up why is he still talking?!

Dream and Blue share a look. Blue frowns "Ink? Are you sure you are okay? You are acting weird..."

A snort "Seems normal to me."

Ink looks over and sees Error. Error just looks highly amused from where he is leaning agaisnt the tree. knowing look in his eye sockets.

Oh no. No no no no! Error knows about how Ink feels about Blue!! Well. Kinda feels. His whole soulless situation and feeling through paint together with ascending to godhood got weird and Ink doesn't even fully understand how it works but that is beside the point! Error was just there when Ink figured out he liked Blue a whole lot more than is normal and that is why Error knows! And Ink does not trust him with that knowledge to not make a fool out of Ink to Blue!

Well. Not that Error needs to do anything to make a fool out of Ink. Ink manages that just fine himself apparently.

Blue is frowning at Error "Error that isn't nice. He could be sick."

Error snorts nad mutters "love sick alright." and Ink prays no one heard him.

Blue doesn't react to what error said so maybe ink is lucky! And oh shit Blue is close and checking his temperature! What does he DO?!

Blue frowns "I think he is fine... You sure you feel up for this Ink?"

Ink nods "Yes! of course! Always ready to help you... two!" Ink looks between Blue and Dream before he laughs softly as he rubs his neck "What are we doing?"

Dream sighs "you seriously didn't read my texts?"

Ink slowly takes his phone out and notices that Dream send a long explanation about something to him. something about ink having to meet someone and having to help them with letting this mystery person meet the other gods.

Ink looks up and Dream sighs before nodding "okay fine. I found my brother."

Ink blinks. Something about nightmare? There hadn't been issues wiht nightmare right? Ink can't remember anything being off about him at least...

Dream looks very disapointed and hurt "Did you seriously forget my brother went missing?!"

Ink flinches. right. that. he rubs his arm "sorry..." he is a terrible friend. he had been so busy with god things... right... blue and drema ahd been working on searching for Nightmare and... and ink was too busy to help and after a while he jsut forgot aparently!

Dream sighs and Blue joins his side to support him. It stings a little.

Blue smiles "but everything is fine! We found nightmare and we are working on introducing him to many people to make sure Fate and Balance don't mess with his domain!"

Ink gives a slow nod. he knows he should know more about those two and why it is important but he can't remember at the moment. Ink hopes he will eventually remember "so... we want a truce?" maybe that is it? a truce between Ink and Nightmare?

Not the hnag out Ink wanted but he will take it at this point. He just wishes he never blocked Blue. How is he even suposed to fix that?! He doens't know!

Dream laughs and rubs his neck "I guess you can call ti a truce. Not that it matters with both Nighty and I having switched domains so we aren't even against each other in any way!" He smiles brightly.

Ink feels even worse. Fuck. He forgot. Dream switched domains! That was a whole thing. Also a thing he hadn't helped with. come on. He knows this. He knows which domain it is. something... soemthing about moving on? healing through moving on?

Dream's smile slwoly falls and Ink can hear Blue sigh. Ink holds up his hands "No! No wait! I know this!" he knwos this! come on. He knows this he knows this he knows this! "it... it... it is about... like.. moving on? healing? kinda like determination and keep going?" right? He looks at Dream desperately.

Dream blinks but laughs and nods "honestly? Very close! it is Progression but those things got to do with it."

Blue grins proudly at him "You are remembering things!"

Ink gives aslow nod "kinda..." ish. Not that much. Though he does keep remembering how pretty Blue looks with his new bandana. The neutral grey but silver and blue highlights are so pretty on him.

Error groans "Are we done yet? We got a schedule to keep here." he huffs and crosses his arms.

Dream focusses too "We are. Ink?"

Ink nods and grins "Lets make a truce!"

A voice "Finally! This was getting boring" and Killer jumps down from the tree branches.

Ink has his broom ready but Blue rushes to his side and pushes his arms down "No! No fighting! we cool!" Ink froze but not because Blue stopped him or what he said. but because Blue is holding his hand! wlel more like just pushing his hands down but it counts! Ink is totally counting it as them holding hands!

Killer grins at them "Anyway. Meet. Boss! Or well... tiny boss" and he grins. As he waves to the side and Cross jsut appears out of thin air with a child in his arms.

Ink frowns and stares before looking at Killer "I know my memory is bad.. but wasn't nightmare like... adult and gooped?" he looks at Blue to double check.

Blue smiles at him and nudges their shoulders togther "true! But Nightmare got deaged when he finished his job as god connected to balance. He went back to how he was before getting that job." and he nods over to Cross who is holding the tiny skeleton.

Ink blinks and stares at Nightmare.Nightmare just looks back at him.

Ink is hit with a dejavu and snorts "Oh yeah i can see it now. got the exact same 'you are an idiot' look as his older version." and he leans against broomie.

Blue laughs from beside him and Ink puffs his chest up a tiny bit. He got this. he got this!

Nightmare huffs and pouts as he leans clsoer to cross "Well he is an idiot."

Cross purrs as he nuzzles the skull "You are 100% right."

Ink looks ar Dream and Blue "So... what now?"

Dream smiles "We need to meet the other gods. but the more gods on our side the better." Dream sighs "Especially meeting the other gods..."

Ink frowns as he tilts his skull "Why?"

Reaper is floating nearby as he speaks and hey when did Reaper get here? "Because of Fate and Balance. We don't think they will like Nightmare not falling into either of their domains anymore."

Ink frowns and he finally remembers! "Right! They were real mad when you picked your domain right Dream?"

Dream grins "Yup! They tried to make me switch but they couldn't because everyone knew my job by then. We are trying to get Nightmare the same setup."

Ink rubs his broom as he speaks "what... euh... is the domain anyway?" they hadn't mentioned that right? he checks with blue but blue just smiles at him. So they probably didn't tell yet!

Blue looks at the gang and it is Killer who answers "Nightmare is a god of Restoration!" he nuzzles Nightmare and nightmare just looks grumpy but doens't turn away from the attention.

Ink frowns as he thinks "So... we are going to meet the other gods now?"

Blue nods as he smiles at him "That is the plan! Can you come with as extra support?"

Ink nods "sure!" He would follow Blue anywhere.

Blue smiles back.

Maybe this isn't a complete mess up just yet.

*---------------------*

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#utmv #realageau #nightmare sans #deaged nightmare #dust sans #killer sans #cross sans #horror sans #error sans #ink sans #dream sans #blue sans #reaper sans #What is this?#Ink angst?#Look. I am jsut saying. Ink having even a tiny bit of emotions and feelings? Would make his situation a bit oa tragedy #because he would be aware that he forgets things and just. can't remember things no matter how important.#and that people woudl just keep being disappointed in him for this because being forgotten is also not nice.#Also in short. Ink still needs his paint bottles. but jsut doens't need to actively drink them. it is kinda passive absorbance of emotions #from the bottles that makes him able to feel. though the bottles still need to be refilled and stay full for him to be able to feel.#his bottles full? he can just feel like other people wihtout having to drink them. bottles empty? he cant feel.#we good? we on the same line? cool :D #I wanted this to be about soemthing else as well but it got a bit long so i decided to leave it with just Ink :D #Ink is in the known!! He knows about the baby :D #and ink is just... not that interested. How could he be? him and blue are HOLDING HANDS!#it is more like touching but don't ruin this for him.#blue: Ink probably has too many god things to do... why spend time with me? just some mortal :(#Ink: ... am i acting weird? Am i weird? are my arms moving weird? Does blue dislike me?#Ink jsut became hyper aware of hismelf and his feelings once he got access to them.#he will evnetually figure it out lmao

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