#ah them good ol days

[arttlars]

Sanuso art I did for Valentine's day hehe

[smarterthantheaverageloser]

Reading up on the current Dream drama like a suburban mother listening to her kids explain the lore of the game they've been playing in the woods for a month

[eyeofthemoose]

some of the asks with maja from ages ago oh my god

[sirswooshnoodles]

Age of Empires 2 and mostly 3

Something something Journey of the Zoombeanies (or something)

that Lion King game from the Nintendo? 64??? I think?

and uhhh oh!!! Lego Star Wars, Lego Indiana Jones, and Lego Pirates of the Caribbean

(Yeah I know the Lego games are separate games but whatever.)

And Spore. Gosh diddly dang I wish someone would remake/revamp spore

These are the games I remember the most from my childhood, even if I watched my siblings play them as much as played them myself. My love for Lego games remains intact, and the nostalgia of multiplayer rings beautifully. “True Jedi” *cries*

Oh man I’ve been meaning to find and play that zoombeanies game for ages now lol

There was also some veggie tales game I used to play on my dads old old long gone pc that ran window XP I think??? Idk I was extra smol back then lol, barely old enough to play a computer game by myself

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 66

Chapter; Highlights, etc. (you know the drill😂)

Aelin awoke to the scent of pine and snow, and knew she was home.

Not in Terrasen, not yet, but in the sense she would always be home, if Rowan was with her.

His steady breaths filled her right ear, the sound of the well and truly asleep, and the arm he'd draped across her middle was a solid, warm weight. Silvery light glazed the ancient stones of the ceiling.

Morning—or a cloudy day. The halls beyond the room offered shards of sound that she sorted through, piece by piece, as if she were assembling a broken mirror that might reveal the world beyond

Apparently, it had been three days since the battle. And the rest of the khagan's army, led by Prince Kashin, his third-eldest son, had arrived.

It was that tidbit that had her rising fully to consciousness, a hand sliding to Rowan's arm.

A caress of a touch, just to see how deeply the rejuvenating sleep held him. Three days, they'd slept here, unaware of the world. A dangerous, vulnerable time for any magic-wielder, when their bodies demanded a deep sleep to recover from expending so much power.

That was another sliver she'd picked up: Gavriel sat outside their door. In mountain lion form. People drew quiet when they approached, not realizing that as soon as they passed him, their whispers of That strange, terrifying cat could be detected by Fae ears.

Aelin ran a finger over the seam of Rowan's sleeve, feeling the corded muscle beneath. Clear her head, her body felt clear. Like the first icy breath inhaled on a winter's morning.

During the days they'd slept, no nightmare had shaken her awake, hunted her. A small, merciful reprieve.

Aelin swallowed, her throat dry. What had been real, what Maeve had tried to plant in her mind-did it matter, whether the pain had been true or imagined?

She had gotten out, gotten away from Maeve and Cairn. Facing the broken bits inside her would come later.

For now, it was enough to have this clarity back. Even though releasing her power, expending that mighty blow here, had not been her plan.

Aelin slid her gaze toward Rowan, his harsh face softened into handsomeness by sleep. And clean—the gore that had splattered them both was gone. Someone must have washed it away while they slept.

As if he sensed her attention, or just felt the lingering hand on his arm, Rowan's eyes cracked open. He scanned her from head to toe, deemed everything all right, and met her stare.

"Show-off," he muttered.

Aelin patted his arm. "You put on a pretty fancy display yourself, Prince."

He smiled, his tattoo crinkling. "Will that display be the last of your surprises, or are there more coming?"

She debated it-telling him, revealing it.

Maybe.

Rowan sat up, the blanket sliding from him.

Is this the sort of surprise that will end with my heart stopping dead in my chest?

She snorted, propping her head with a fist as she traced idle marks over the scratchy blanket.

"I sent a letter-when we were at that port in Wendlyn."

Rowan nodded. "To Aedion."

"To Aedion," she said, quietly enough that Gavriel couldn't hear from his spot outside the door. "And to your uncle. And to Essar." Rowan's brows rose. "Saying what?" She hummed to herself. "Saying that I was indeed imprisoned by Maeve, and that while 1 was her captive, she laid out some rather nefarious plans."

Her mate went still. "With what goal in mind?"

Aelin sat up, and picked at her nails.

"Convincing them to disband her army. Start a revolt in Doranelle. Kick Maeve off the throne. You know, small things."

Rowan just looked at her. Then scrubbed at his face. "You think a letter could do that?"

"It was strongly worded." He gaped a bit. "What sort of nefarious plans did you mention?"

"Desire to conquer the world, her complete lack of interest in sparing Fae lives in a war, her interest in Valg things." She swallowed. "I might have mentioned that she's possibly Valg."

Rowan started. Aelin shrugged. "It was a lucky guess. The best lies are always mixed with truth."

"Suggesting Maeve is Valg is a fairly outlandish lie, even for you. Even if it turned out to be true."

She waved a hand. "We'll see if anything comes of it."

"If it works, if they somehow revolt and the army turns against her..." He shook his head, laughing softly. "It'd be a boon in this war."

"I scheme and lie so grandly, and that's all the credit I get?"

Rowan flicked her nose. "You'll get credit if her army doesn't show up. Until then, we prepare as if they are. Which is highly likely." At her frown, he said, "Essar doesn't wield much power, and my uncle doesn't take many risks. Not like Enda and Sellene. For them to overthrow Maeve ... it would be monumental. If they even survived it."

Her stomach churned. "It's their choice, what they do. I only laid out the facts." Carefully worded facts and half guesses. An absolute gamble, if she was being honest.

Rowan smirked. "And other than attempting to overthrow Maeve's throne? Any other surprises I should know about?"

Her smile faded as she lay back down, Rowan doing the same beside her. "There are no more." At his raised brows, she added, "I swear it on my throne. There are no more left."

The amusement in his eyes guttered. "I don't know whether to be relieved."

"Everything I know, you know. All the cards are on the table now."

With the various armies that had gathered, with the Lock, with all of it.

"Do you think you could do it again?" he asked. "Draw up that much power?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. It required being ... contained. With the irons."

A shadow darkened his face, and he rolled onto his side, propping up his head. "I've never seen anything like it."

"You never will again." It was the truth.

"If the cost of that much power is what you endured, then I'll be glad not to."

Aelin ran a hand down the powerful muscles of his thigh, fingers snagging in the rip of fabric just above his knee. "I didn't feel you get this wound through the mating bond," she said, grazing the thick ridge of the new scar. A trophy from the battle. She made herself meet his piercing stare. Did Maeve somehow break that part of it? That part of us?

"No," he breathed, and stroked the hair from her brow. "I've realized that the bond only conveys the pain of the gravest wounds."

She touched the spot on his shoulder where Asterin Blackbeak's arrow had pierced him all those months ago. The moment she'd known what he was to her.

"It was why I didn't know what was happening to you on the beach," Rowan said roughly. Because the whipping, brutal and unbearable as it had been, hadn't brought her to the brink of death. Only into an iron coffin.

She scowled. "If you're about to tell me that you feel guilty for it—"

"We both have things to grapple with—about what happened these months."

A glance at him, and she knew he was well aware of what still clouded her soul.

And because he was the only person who saw everything she was and did not walk away from it, Aelin said, "I wanted that fire to be for Maeve."

"I know." Such simple words, and yet it meant everything-that understanding.

"I wanted it to make things ... better." She loosed a long breath. "To wipe it all away." Every memory and nightmare and lie.

"It will take a while, Aelin. To face it, work through it."

"I don't have a while."

His jaw tensed. "That remains to be seen." She didn't bother arguing. Not as she admitted, "I want it to be over."

He went wholly still, but granted her the space to think, to speak.

"I want it to be over and done with," she said hoarsely. "This war, the gods and the Wyrdgate and the Lock. All of it." She rubbed her temples, pushing past the weight, the lingering stain that no fire might cleanse. "I want to go to Terrasen, to fight, and then I want it to be over."

She'd wanted it to be over since she'd learned the true cost of forging the Lock anew.

Had wanted it to be over with each of Cairn's lashes on the beach in Eyllwe. And all he'd done to her afterward. Whatever it might bring about, however it might end, she wanted it to be over.

She didn't know who and what it made her.

Rowan remained silent for a long moment before he said, "Then we will make sure the khagan's host goes north. Then we will return to Terrasen and crush Erawan's armies." He brought her hands to his mouth for a swift kiss.

"And then, after all that, we'll see about this damned Lock." Uncompromising will filled his every breath, the air around them.

She let it be enough for both of them.

Tucked away his words, his vow, all those promises between them and extended her palm in the air between them.

She summoned the magic-the drop of water her mother's bloodline had given her.

Mab's bloodline.

A tiny ball of water took form in her hand. Over the calluses she'd so carefully rebuilt.

She let the gentle, cooling power trickle over her. Let it smooth the jagged bits inside herself and sing them to sleep. Her mother's gift.

You do not yield.

When the Lock took everything, would it claim this part as well? This most precious part of her power? She tucked away those thoughts, too.

Concentrating, gritting her teeth, Aelin commanded the ball of water to rotate in her palm.

A wobble was all she got in answer.

She snorted. "Faerie Queen of the West indeed."

Rowan huffed a quiet laugh. "Keep practicing. In a thousand years, you might actually be able to do something with it."

She whacked his arm, the droplet of water soaking into the sleeve of his shirt. "It's a wonder I learned anything from you with that sort of encouragement." She shook the wetness from her hand. Right into his face.

Rowan nipped at her nose. "I do keep a tally, Princess. Of all the horrible things that come out of your mouth."

Her toes curled, and she dragged her fingers through his hair, luxuriating in the silken strands. "How shall I pay for this one?"

On the other side of the door, she could have sworn that cat-soft feet quickly padded away.

People gawked in the halls, some whispering as they passed.

The queen and her consort. Where do you think they've been these past few days?

I heard they went into the mountains and brought the wild men back with them.

I heard they've been weaving spells around the city, to protect it against Morath.

Rowan was still smirking when Aelin emerged from the communal ladies' bathing room.

"See?" She fell into step beside him as they aimed not for their room and ravishment, but for the hallway where food had been laid out.

"You're starting to like the notoriety."

Rowan arched a brow. "You think that everywhere I've gone for the past three hundred years, whispers haven't followed me?" She rolled her eyes, but he chuckled. "This is far better than Cold-hearted bastard or I heard he killed someone with a table leg."

"You did kill someone with a table leg." Rowan's smirk grew.

"And you are a cold-hearted bastard," she threw in.

Rowan snorted. "I never said those whispers were lies."

Aelin looped her arm through his. "I'm going to start a rumor about you, then. Something truly grotesque."

He groaned. "I dread the thought of what you might come up with."

She adopted a harsh whisper as they passed a group of human soldiers. "You flew back onto the battlefield to peck out the eyes of our enemies?" Her gasp echoed off the rock. "And ate those eyes?"

One of the soldiers tripped, the others whipping their heads to them. Rowan pinched her shoulder. "Thank you for that."

She inclined her head. "You're very welcome."

Aelin kept smiling as they found food and ate a quick lunch-it was midday, they'd learned-sitting side by side in a dusty, half-forgotten stairwell. Much like the days they'd spent in Mistward, knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder in the kitchen while listening to Emrys's stories.

Though unlike those months this spring, when Aelin set down her plate between her feet, she slid her arms around Rowan's neck and his mouth instantly met hers.

No, it was certainly not at all like their time at Mistward as she crawled into Rowan's lap, not entirely caring that anyone might stride up or down the stairs, and kissed him silly.

They halted, breathless and wild-eyed, before she could decide that it really wouldn't be a bad idea…

… If Aelin was being honest with herself, she was still debating hauling him into the nearest closet when they set off to find their companions at last. One glance at Rowan's glazed eyes and she knew he was debating the same.

Yet even the desire heating her blood cooled when they entered the ancient study near the top of the keep and beheld the gathered group. Fenrys and Gavriel were already there, Chaol with them, no sign of Elide or Lorcan.

But Chaol's father, unfortunately, was present. And glowered as they entered the meeting that seemed well under way. Aelin gave him a mocking smile and sauntered up to the large desk.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stood with Nesryn, Sartaq, and Hasar, handsome and brimming with a sort of impatient energy. His brown eyes were welcoming, his smile easy.

She liked him immediately.

"My brother," Hasar said, waving a hand without looking up from the map. "Kashin." The prince sketched a graceful bow.

Aelin offered one back, Rowan doing the same. "An honor," Aelin said. "Thank you for coming."

"You can actually thank my father for that. And Yrene," said Kashin, his use of their language as flawless as his siblings'.

Indeed, Aelin had much to thank the healer for.

Nesryn's sharp eyes scanned Aelin from head to toe. "You're feeling all right?"

"Just needed to rest." Aelin jerked her chin at Rowan. "He requires frequent naps in his old age."

Sartaq coughed, keeping his head down as he continued studying the map.

Fenrys, however, laughed. "Back to your good spirits, I see."

Aelin smirked at Chaol's straight-backed father. "We'll see how long it lasts."

The man said nothing.

Rowan motioned to the desk and asked the royals, "Have you decided-where you shall march now?"

Such a casual, calm question. As if the fate of Terrasen did not rest upon it.

Hasar opened her mouth, but Sartaq cut her off. "North. We shall indeed go north with you. If only to repay you for saving our army-our people."

Aelin tried not to look too relieved.

"Gratitude aside," Hasar said, not sounding very grateful at all, "Kashin's scouts have confirmed that Terrasen is where Morath is concentrating its efforts. So it is there that we shall go."

Aelin wished she had not eaten such a large lunch. "How bad is it?"

Nesryn shook her head, answering for Prince Kashin, "The details were murky. All we know is that hordes were spotted marching northward, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake."

Aelin kept her fists at her sides, avoiding the urge to rub at her face.

Chaol's father said, "I hope that power of yours can be summoned again."

Aelin let an ember of that power smolder in her eyes. "Thank you for the armor," she crooned.

"Consider it an early coronation gift," the Lord of Anielle countered with a mocking smile.

Sartaq cleared his throat. "If you and your companions are recovered, then we'll press northward as soon as we are able." No objections from Hasar at that.

"And march along the mountains?" Rowan asked, scanning the map. Aelin traced the route they'd follow. "We'd have to pass directly before the Ferian Gap. We'll barely clear the other end of this lake before we're in another battle."

"So we draw them out," Hasar said. "Trick them into emptying whatever forces wait in the Gap, then sneak up on them from behind."

"Adarlan controls the entire Avery," Chaol said, drawing an invisible line inland from Rifthold. "To pass north, we have to cross that river anyway. In picking the Gap as our battleground, we'll avoid the mess that would come with fighting in the midst of Oakwald. The ruks, at least, would be able to provide aerial coverage. Not so with the trees."

Rowan nodded. "We'd need to march the majority of the host up into the mountains, then—to come at the Gap from where they'd least expect it. It's rough terrain, though. We'll need to pick our route carefully."

Chaol's father grumbled. Aelin lifted her brows, but his son answered, "I sent out emissaries the day after the battle-into the Fangs. To contact the wild men who live there, if they might know of secret ways through the mountains to the Gap."

Ancient enemies of this city. "And?"

"They do. But at a cost."

"One that shall not be paid," the Lord of Anielle snapped.

"Let me guess: territory," Aelin said.

Chaol nodded. Hence the tension in this room.

She tapped a toot as she surveyed the Lord of Anielle. "And you won't give one sliver of land to them?"

He just glared.

"Apparently not," Fenrys muttered

Aelin shrugged, and turned to Chaol. "Well, it's settled, then."

"What is settled?" his father ground out.

Aelin ignored him, and winked at her friend. "You're the Hand to the King of Adarlan. You outrank him. You're authorized to act on Dorian's behalf." She gestured to the map. "The land might be a part of Anielle, but it belongs to Adarlan. Go ahead and barter it."

His father started. "You—"

"We are going north," Aelin said. "You will not stand in our way." She again let some of her fire kindle in her eyes, set the gold in them burning. "I halted that wave. Consider this alliance with the wild men a way to repay the favor."

"That wave destroyed half my city," the man snarled.

Fenrys let out a low, disbelieving laugh. Rowan snarled softly.

Chaol growled at his father, "You're bastard."

"Watch your tongue, boy."

Aelin nodded sympathetically to Chaol. "I see why you left."

Chaol, to his credit, winced and returned to the map. "If we can get past the Ferian Gap, then we continue northward."

Past Endovier. That path would take them right past Endovier. Aelin's stomach tightened. Rowan's hand grazed her own.

"We have to decide soon," Sartaq declared.

"Right now, we sit between the Ferian Gap and Morath. It would be very easy for Erawan to send hosts to crush us between them."

Hasar turned to Chaol. "Is Yrene anywhere near done?"

He leaned an elbow against the arm of his wheeled chair. "Even with the few survivors, there are too many of them. We'd be here weeks."

"How many injured?" Rowan asked.

Chaol shook his head. "Not injured." His jaw tightened. "Valg."

Aelin frowned. "Yrene's healing the Valg?"

Hasar grinned. "In a manner of speaking."

Aelin waved her off. "Can I see?"

They found Yrene not in the keep, but in a tent on the remnants of the battlefield, leaning over a human man thrashing upon a cot. The man had been restrained to anchors in the floor at his wrists and ankles.

Aelin took one look at those chains and had to swallow.

Rowan laid a hand on her lower back, and Fenrys stepped closer to her side.

Yrene paused, her hands wreathed in white light. Borte, sword out, lingered nearby.

"Is something wrong?" Yrene asked, the glow in her hands fading. The man sagged, going boneless as the healer's assault on the demon inside him halted.

Chaol steered his chair closer to her, the wheels equipped for rougher terrain. "Aelin and her companions want a demonstration. If you're up for it."

Yrene smoothed back the hair that had escaped her braid. "It's not really anything that you can see. What happens is beneath the skin—mind to mind."

"You go up against Valg demons directly," Fenrys said with no small amount of awe.

"They're hateful, cowardly wretches." Yrene crossed her arms and scowled at the man tied to the cot. "Utterly pathetic," she spat toward him—the demon inside him.

The man hissed. Yrene only smiled. The man—the demon-whimpered.

Aelin blinked, unsure whether to laugh or fall to her knees. "Show me. Do whatever it is you do, but show me."

Borte said, "It's not very exciting with them tied down, is it?"

Sartaq threw her an exasperated glare. As if this were a conversation they'd already had many times. "You can be on mucking duty, if you'd prefer."

Borte rolled her eyes, but turned to Aelin, looking her over with a frankness that Aelin could only appreciate. "Any other missions for me?"

Aelin grinned. "Not yet. Soon, perhaps." Borte grinned right back. "Please. Please spare me from the tedium of this."

"And you believe them?" Fenrys asked.

Hasar patted the hilt of her fine sword. "Our interrogators are skilled at retrieving the truth."

Aelin ignored the roiling in her stomach.

"So you free them," Gavriel said, silent for minutes now, "and then torture them?"

"This is war," Hasar said simply. "We leave them able to function. But we will not risk sparing their lives only to find a new army at our backs."

"Some willingly joined Erawan," Chaol said quietly. "Some willingly took the ring. Yrene can tell, when she's in there, who wanted it or not. She doesn't bother to save those who gladly knelt. So most of those she does save were either fools or taken forcibly."

"Some want to fight for us," Sartaq said.

"Those who pass our vetting process are allowed to begin training with the foot soldiers. Not many of them, but a few." Fine. Fine, and fine.

Yrene gasped, her light flaring bright enough that Aelin squinted.

Yrene slumped back, Chaol shooting out an arm to brace her. The healer only took a perch on the arm of his chair, a hand on her heaving chest.

Aelin gave her a moment to catch her breath. To manage such a feat was remarkable. To do it while pregnant ... Aelin shook her head in wonder.

Yrene said to no one in particular, "That demon didn't want to go."

"But it's gone now?" Aelin asked

Yene pointed to the man on the cot, now opening his eyes. Brown, not black, gazed upward.

"Thank you," was all the man said, his voice raw.

And human. Utterly human.

[writteninkat]

What made you fall for these MHA men?

w/ Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Todoroki, Kaminari

warnings: none, just some good ol' fluff

a/n: idk man i feel like most people(me) goes straight to the fucking stage and skips the adorable crush stage

navigation

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

this man is so fucking smart it turns you to goo

whenever you're having trouble with schoolworks/projects/assignments, you sit yourself next to him just to get the work done fast (and he smells and looks good so plus points ig)

find long math problems difficult? mans will take one look at it and immediately start scribbling. probably witchcraft, you don't know.

one moment you're complaining to mina about how your teacher can suck dick after giving you the assigment, the next katsuki has the answer in a box

chemistry problems? mans has the entire table memorized.

history? which one? japanese? american? french?

ah, he also butts in your conversations whenever you get the date wrong.

yeah he teaches you stuff you're having trouble understanding, but he will yell the entire time.

yeah, he teaches the topics worlds better than the teacher ever could but at the cost of your hearing

seeing his name listed along the top students with high marks has you inspired to do just as better as him

you tried confessing by giving him a love letter and he returned it to you with corrections TT (and a note that said: rewrite this and read it to me in person, then I'll take you out for some ramen)

EIJIRO KIRISHIMA

he's the sweetest ever, who wouldn't fall for him?

you're having terrible period cramps? this man will have a 'period aid box' filled with sweets, sanitary products, pain relievers, a heating pad, and more of your favorite things delivered to your door

it's pouring and you forgot your umbrella?

if he has an umbrella: will obv share it with you and doesn't care if half his body gets drenched, what matters is you're dry

no umbrella: takes off his uniform jacket/vest and drapes it over you. you'll end up damp but hey, he tried his best

whenever there's a new place, (restaurant, fair, amusement park, etc.) you're the first one he's asking to join him. and you always go. and he always pays.

hurt yourself? scraped a knee, got a bruise, muscle ache? he has a first aid pouch in his bag just for you

always walks you to class, always struggles with you when doing homework, always brings you your favorite food/drink

problem? he does all of this and will still call you a 'friend'. 'best friend' if you're lucky.

yeah, this adorable boy has no idea all the shit he does has you falling head over heels in love for him

IZUKU MIDORIYA

the way he's so passionate about what he loves, then catches himself being so open about it, then blushes, has you swooning

it was a normal day when you asked him about all might. you ended up listening to him for two hours ranting and sharing

you thought, 'how cute.' and then remembered you had piles of homework to do. and then he offered to help you with them while still talking about all might

he's also incredible passionate about being a hero

the way he talks about keeping the weak and needy safe has your heart clenching

whenever you get hurt during quirk training? he drops everything to take you to the nurse

feel insecure about yourself? he goes on a never ending tangent about how you're enough and how amazing you are

whenever you feel like you aren't gonna reach a goal, he's right there to pump you back up

whenever you tease him about being handsome or cute, he gets all flushed and shy, he makes you wanna just nibble on his cheeks!

problem here? he does that with everyone.

he's an inherintly good person, so you can't blame him for it, you can only blame yourself for thinking you were special to him.

or are you?

SHOTO TODOROKI

you're a yapper. you're running your mouth twenty four-seven. and twenty four hours every day, he listens. quietly.

at first you thought he was just ignoring you, but he brings up what you babbled about from time to time.

you talked about your mom being in the hospital. the next day, your mom's calling you to tell 'your classmate i said thank you for the fruits'.

mmhmm. he gave your mom fruits as a 'get well soon' gift.

shoto listens to every word you say, even when you don't realize you're saying them

"i heard the smoothie at that new diner was good." next day, there's a take out smoothie on your desk

"remind me to get pads tomorrow." your desk is filled with every single kind of sanitary product you could think of, from wings, non wings, long, dry, thick, thin, day, night.

"does anybody have an extra pen-" he places his pencil case on your table.

you don't even have to ask him and he's already working on getting you whatever you want. swoon.

another thing that made you fall? he'll let you do anything to him

class is boring and you wanna draw? he'll give you his hands

wanna practice some hairstyles? his hair is incredibly soft and tame for that.

how about make up looks? wanna practice that? he's sitting cross legged on the floor of your dorm as you brush on whatever color on his face

he's totally fine with letting you do whatever you want. and you wanna know the best part? he only lets you do it.

DENKI KAMINARI

this man cracks you up with no fail

the way denki's so easy to talk to and have fun with makes you feel so safe and secure

he's got every kind of humor in his chamber

dad jokes? "what did the blanket say as it fell off the bed? oh sheet!"

corny jokes? "how many lips does a flower have? tu-lips."

dark humor? "why can't orphans play baseball? cause they don't know where home is!"

yeah- the last one you two whisper to each other during class and get sent out of the room for laughing too loud

you don't remember a day where you spent with him and you weren't laughing. you just feel so light and happy, he's like a drug to you

this dynamic between the both of you confuses people. some look at the both of you and think you're a duo misfit who constantly gets called out during class, and some give you teasing looks

when you started to notice these feelings for him, you couldn't help but grin at the thought of marrying your best friend.

what made you really feel for him though?

when you were sick for a day, your classmates came back to the dorms begging you to fet better quickly cause apparently the room was depressing

even katsuki cursed you out for being sick

apparently denki's mood affected everybody. and that mood was-

"today was tiring without you there." denki sighs, staring at nothing while the heat of his body beside you comforts you completely. it's always like this with him- warm, peaceful, happy.

"awe, did you miss me you big baby?" you tease, poking his side.

denki turns his head towards you, eyes holding a million words he wants to say, but for some reason, can't.

"i did." his eyes trail down your nose and to your lips. "so much."

your lips part, heart about to beat out of your rib cage. your mouth feels dry and you can't help the desire to tell him everything you feel for him- but you can't. you don't wanna risk ruining your friendship.

"yellow," he calls. ever since you laughed at his joke for the first time, he's been calling you yellow. he says your laugh magically brightens the room, the sight of your smile lifting the heaviness on his shoulder. "smile for me?"

and you do.

and he does.

and you know you're extraordinarily, remarkably, so very fucked when it comes to this man.

[seungfl0wer]

Jisung As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut🩷

-🩵

•Falls fast. Falls hard.

•Needs reassurance now and then.

•”Are you sure you love me”

•Says on those days he’s feeling more down.

•When he loves he loves hard.

•He watches you carefully wanting to know everything about you.

•Watches you so he can know how to communicate even when you’re not talking.

•Just know’s your body language well.

•Can be very clingy.

•Loves to just be close to you touching you in some way.

•A lot of times he’ll just have his hand on your lap head on your shoulder.

•Will learn your favorite songs to play you on the guitar while he sings them to you.

•Does he ever love performing for you.

•It always makes him a little shy though.

•Blushing as he stutters at first.

•Cause he just melts as you are fully watching him.

•I’ve said this about others but Ji-

•Jisung is enamored by you.

•The way he sees you, you are this perfect peace of art that he has no idea how he got.

•He still has the cocky attitude about him though.

•So when he gets into it he’s giving you that cheeky smile making your heart just thud.

•If he could he’d put your heart beat into a song because it’s his favorite beat.

•Has so many songs about you, gives you one for each occasion like birthdays and holidays.

•You make him so shy but he also makes you so shy.

•Ah you both are just a cute blushy mess at first.

•Your first kiss was so sweet though. So loving?

•He wrapped his hands around you and kissed you while you rambled about something.

•When he pulled away he’d start with “I’m sorry”

•Before you quickly kissed him again.

•He’s also one that loves when you play with his hair.

•He’ll whine when you stop giving you those big ol eyes until you keep doing it.

•He loves loves cuddling where he’s lying on your stomach.

•Where you can play with his hair and he listens to your heartbeat.

•A puddle. That’s how it makes him.

•He’s not the best at saying how he feels.

•Cause his words never come out as he wants.

•So he takes the opportunity to write you sweet notes.

•Will write you notes to leave in places for you to find.

•Fully an attentively listens to you.

•He’s like your little diary, neither of you able to keep secrets from the other.

•Ji having anxiety to he leans on you a lot, you’re such a safe place for him. Someone who calms him down.

•He enjoys simple dates, like taking you shopping and to dinner.

•Movie dates, concert dates for sure.

•Loves seeing you in his clothes especially when you wear them out.

•I know jisung gives off those fuck boy vibes but this man just has so much love to give.

•He may get in his head sometimes but he just very much loves you.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•I’m all for sub jisung for sure.

•But this man is a switch.

•The days he’s more dom he’s almost feral.

•You’re not a want but a fucking need.

•He comes home pushing you down on the bed kissing you sloppily.

•Hands roaming your body feeling their way to your hole.

•He whispers in your ear little “be good for me hmm?”

•I’m a firm believer of Ji being so good at oral.

•He’ll get drunk on you.

•I mean he’s so good at everything, and this is no exception

•Can make you climax so fast just with his tongue.

•He’s also so good with his hands.

•Like I said before he knows you so well.

•Know’s every inch of your body and where to touch.

•When he’s fucking you he’s fucking you deep.

•Each movement hits every spot of yours.

•When he’s more dominant he loves fucking you doggy.

•The way he can hit you spots with ease.

•He’ll pull you back to him by your arms holding you there while he fucks you.

•He’s never coherent half the time either.

•”feels good-“ he’d be able to muster out.

•Big moaner. Makes so many noises.

•When he’s more submissive he loves when you pull his hair, or wrap your hand around his throat.

•Also enjoys when you restrain him while riding him.

•The whimpers he’ll let out while you’re riding him- fuck-

•Missionary is one of those positions that just make him weak though.

•The way he gets sloppy body pressed against yours like you’re one.

•Him moaning against your ear as he tries to talk “I- love you” he’d stutter out before cumming.

•After care is so many words but so little.

•You two don’t have to really say much to understand what the other needs.

•Jisung loves just holding you close coming down from your highs asking if you wanna shower.

•Always a nice cool shower full of loving kisses and little giggles.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16

[delulustateofmind]

Yan! JJK Men x Reader: You're sick. Literally.

Description: Oh no, you got sick? Poor thing? Luckily the gorgeous man who kidnapped you will take good care of little ol you!

Characters: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami

TW: Mentions of sick things (throwing up, coughing, ya'know sick stuff), Yandere behaviors, Pet names. Reader is a non sorcerer. Suguru didn't defect, still an insane yan though. Nanami's is the darkest.

WC: 3.9k

A/n: Comfort fic for ME. Some little gremlin at my job got me sick. This could be...better? Idk my mind hazy but I couldn't sleep without writing out my little silly thoughts.

Satoru - You'll be smothered to death

You got sick.

Of course, it would happen now, while Satoru was off on one of his endless missions, leaving you to fend for yourself in the pristine prison he called an apartment. He hadn’t been home in days, blissfully clueless to the fact that even swallowing felt like trying to gulp down shards of glass. Your muscles ached, your head throbbed, and every inch of you craved nothing more than a warm drink and a blanket.

Dragging yourself to the kitchen, you held onto a sliver of hope—maybe there was tea or, if you were really lucky, a sad packet of instant ramen. But every cabinet you opened revealed a whole lot of nothing. Great. You checked the fridge next. Also empty, naturally. Your meals were always mysteriously delivered by someone you'd never met while Satoru was away. Maybe they'd bring you soup…or were you destined for another serving of that fancy sushi you could barely stomach in this state?

You almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of complaining about such “luxuries.”

And cooking for yourself? Yeah, right. Satoru had confiscated the knives ages ago, forbidding you from using them unless he was there to watch over you like the lovesick freak he was. You cast a sarcastic, vulgar gesture toward one of the many cameras he’d installed around the apartment. Not that he’d ever actually check the footage, right? …Right?

With a sigh, you shuffled into the bathroom, opening one cabinet after another, desperate for something—anything—that could bring a sliver of relief. A cough drop, even a crusty, ancient one, would’ve been a miracle right now. But no, it seemed that the only things Satoru deemed essential were shea butters, body scrubs, and various impractical “essentials.” Your throat burned, each swallow a new brand of torture, and frustration prickled behind your eyes.

Before you knew it, you’d sunk to the floor, tears slipping down your cheeks as exhaustion took over. You tried to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but it came out as more of a weak wheeze. Trapped, sick, and utterly alone, you let yourself drift off on the cold tiles, surrounded by empty cabinets and an even emptier feeling gnawing at your chest.

You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but the faint sound of the front door clicking open stirred you from your feverish dreams. Footsteps echoed through the apartment, far too energetic to belong to anyone but him. You groaned softly, squinting against the bright light as Satoru’s familiar voice filtered through the fog of your headache.

“Yoo-hoo! I’m home, sweet cheeks! Did you miss me?”

You tried to sit up, but the ache in your muscles protested, leaving you slumped against the wall. Before you could answer, Satoru poked his head into the bathroom, his usual grin plastered on his face—though it faltered as his blue eyes landed on you. In an instant, he was crouched at your side, his hands hovering around you as if he couldn’t decide where to start.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he tutted, his grin morphing into a mock pout. “Did you get all pathetic while I was gone?” His fingers found your forehead, and he clicked his tongue, his eyes widening as he felt the heat radiating from your skin. “You’re burning up! Were you planning to bake yourself in here like a cute little fever muffin? And why didn’t you ping me?”

Ah, yes. The pager. Right. Because apparently, pagers were still a thing in Satoru’s world.

You groaned, trying to turn your face away from his intense stare. “Satoru… I was fine.”

“Fine?” he echoed, clearly amused. “Yeah, sure, if by ‘fine’ you mean pathetically slumped on the bathroom floor.” Without warning, he swept you into his arms, ignoring your weak protests as he carried you to the bedroom. He laid you down with the same exaggerated care he reserved for something truly precious, pulling the soft white sheets over your shivering frame.

“Do you realize,” he said, half-joking, half-scolding, “how irresponsible it was to get sick while I was gone? Honestly, you should know better.” He bundled the blankets around you so tightly that you could barely wiggle a finger. “You don’t have permission to be sick without me around.”

“Permission?” you mumbled, your voice muffled, eyes half-lidded as the fever continued to fog up your mind.

“Exactly!” He ruffled your hair with that chipper enthusiasm. “If I’d been here, I would’ve made sure you ate properly. And I would’ve personally spoon-fed you medicine—doesn't that sound delightful?” His eyes sparkled with a teasing glint, though there was something unsettlingly serious beneath it.

“Are you going to… let me breathe in here?” you managed to ask, noting just how thoroughly he’d cocooned you.

“Oh, no no,” he chuckled, settling onto the edge of the bed with an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction. “You’re not escaping my care now. Not after letting yourself get sick while I was gone.” He leaned in close, his face inches from yours, that unnervingly charming smile back in place. “I’m on nurse duty, and you’re my sole patient. Lucky you, huh?”

You whined as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. Sure, he was sweet, even doting at times. But he was also, without a doubt, a little bit of a freak. He left, claiming he’d be back with “supplies” that you could only imagine were absurdly over the top.

An hour later, he returned, brandishing a spoon and a cup of soup, and propped you up as if you were some doll. “Now, open up,” he cooed, lifting the spoon with exaggerated gentleness. “You’re going to eat every bite, and then we’re binging every Studio Ghibli movie you’ve never seen. You love those, right? You mentioned it on our first date.” His eyes flashed, a brief, intense look that was almost… possessive, before softening again. “And if I hear even a hint of a cough, I might just smother you in blankets until you forget what a cold feels like.”

You tried to roll your eyes, but the warmth of the soup soothed your throat, and despite the fever still clawing at you, you managed a faint smile. Satoru kept feeding you, chattering on about his mission, each story punctuated with exaggerated gestures that made the soup tremble on the spoon. His presence was overwhelming, but, for once, you didn’t mind.

“See?” he said proudly when you’d finished, grinning down at you like a smug nurse. “All you need is a little Gojo love, and you’re practically healed already.”

He moved to start up Porco Rosso, something you’d never seen but that he insisted you’d adore.

But as he fussed over you, you caught a flicker of worry in his playful eyes—a soft, fleeting look, as though he truly believed you were the most fragile thing in his world. And despite everything, despite the suffocating way he hovered, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Perhaps in a way you were growing insane day by day. He’d stay by your side, even if you were only here because he’d pulled you into his world and held on so tightly, refusing to let go, because losing you was something he couldn’t bear. He couldn't lose someone so important to him.

Suguru - Just let him take care of you, yeah?

Your muscles ached, and your eyes felt swollen, as though you’d cried them shut. Everything hurt, every shiver that wracked your body twisting the ache deeper. Cold sweat clung to you, dampening the sheets that Suguru had so carefully arranged around you. You were caught between chills and feverish heat, unable to reconcile how you could be shivering and sweating all at once.

He’d left early this morning after a long, restless night, one that left its marks painted across your skin. The ache wasn’t entirely unfamiliar, but you could still feel each bruise, each bite—a reminder of his hands, his mouth, his possessive need to leave you claimed. Maybe that was why your muscles were so sore, why each breath felt like it only barely filled your lungs.

You swallowed, the pain flaring in your throat. You stared up at the wooden beams of the traditional ceiling, another piece of this house he’d locked you in—for your own good, as he liked to remind you. Once, you’d tried to tell him you needed space, that the relationship was too much, that he was too much. Now, the only “space” you had was this house, shared with him, furnished to his tastes. The traditional Japanese garden beyond the window, with its perfectly placed stones and swaying bamboo, felt like a prison as much as it did a picturesque scene out of a movie.

You drifted off to the rhythmic patter of rain against the shoji screens, wondering how he'd react when he saw you like this. Unease filled you.

A sound brought you back, barely louder than the rain—a soft, padded footfall just beyond the sliding door. A familiar twinge of anxiety stirred in your stomach, the kind you had yet to shake whenever he approached. The door slid open with practiced care, his silhouette filling the frame before stepping inside.

"My love?" Suguru's voice was gentle, almost reverent, as he moved toward you, closing the distance with graceful precision. His violet eyes swept over you, dark with concern, though a small smile tugged at his lips, as though he found a strange beauty in your frailty.

“You’re not feeling well, are you?” he murmured, his voice softening further as he knelt beside you. A sick smile on his lips as if he enjoyed this. One of his hands brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead, his touch tender, and intimate. “You poor thing… it’s no wonder. You’ve been keeping everything bottled up. All those silly little thoughts and worries…”

He pressed a warm cloth to your forehead, his fingers gentle, almost soothing. Yet there was something in his touch—a possessiveness, a kind of pride in seeing you like this, dependent on his care, trapped under his gaze.

“You know,” he whispered, his voice low and sweet as he continued to smooth back your hair, “you don’t have to hold back with me. I’ll take care of everything—everything you could ever need. I’ll make sure you never have to worry about a single thing. Not your health, not your happiness… not even your freedom.” His smile softened as his hand moved to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking softly, possessively. “All you have to do is trust me, my love.”

A faint shiver went through you, whether from the fever or his touch, you couldn’t be sure. You tried to turn your face away, but his hand held you firmly, coaxing your gaze back to him. “Rest, darling,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll stay by your side. I’ll make sure you’re safe, warm. Isn’t that what you need?”

His eyes, gentle yet held something so dark in those violet irises, held a depth of obsession that left no room for refusal, and despite the fever clouding your mind, you could feel it—the certainty that no matter how many walls you tried to build, Suguru would tear them down, piece by piece, until all you had was him.

The last thing you heard as sleep overtook you was his voice, murmuring soft reassurances, as he brushed his lips over your forehead.

Suguru adjusted his hold, wrapping the blanket more snugly around you as he cradled you closer, pressing a few soft kisses to the top of your head. You felt his fingers trail down your arm, gentle yet something dark lurked under such a touch, as though even your feverish skin was something precious to him.

He shifted, leaving the bed momentarily, though his gaze never wavered from you, his eyes flickering with a hint of unease at the brief separation. He returned a moment later, a bowl of rice porridge.

Something he must have prepared while you were half-asleep. “I made this just for you. Something gentle, soothing… I didn’t add anything too spicy; I know your throat’s sore.”

He carefully lifted the spoon to your lips, watching intently as you sipped with half-lidded hazy eyes. “Good girl,” he encouraged softly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Eat up. I’ll make sure you do. I’ll stay right here, feeding you every bite if that’s what it takes.”

You shifted slightly, trying to sit up more reaching for the spoon, but Suguru’s hand pressed gently against your shoulder, holding you down. “Ah, ah, don’t try to get up, my love,” he chided, a faintly scolding edge to his tone. “You’re in no condition to move around.” He gave a soft sigh, though there was a smile in his eyes as he leaned closer, “Just rest. Let me dote on you as much as you deserve. I don’t mind taking care of every little thing.”

He continued to feed you with small, measured bites, murmuring reassurances and encouragements with each spoonful, as though the simple act of eating was an accomplishment he was proud of. “That’s it,” he whispered. “You’re doing so well. Just a little more, love… There’s no need to be shy.”

As you finished, he wiped your mouth gently, his gaze softening as he watched you with a near-adoring smile. “There,” he said, his tone full of satisfaction as if he had achieved something profound just by keeping you fed. He pulled the blankets back up, tucking them so tightly around you that it was almost suffocating, as though he feared even a single draft could harm you.

With a sudden look of inspiration, he began fussing over the room itself, adjusting the windows, pulling the shoji screens shut just a bit tighter. “Can’t have any chills sneaking in, can we?” he said, more to himself than you. “You need warmth, peace… not a hint of discomfort.” He glanced back at you with a pleased smile, clearly contented by the thought of keeping every single detail in perfect order.

Finally, he returned to your side, pulling you back into his arms, and settling you against his chest again. “There we go,” he murmured, his fingers combing carefully through your hair, untangling every knot with precise, gentle strokes. “You don’t need to worry about anything—not about what you’ll eat, not about what you’ll wear, not even about how you’ll get up tomorrow. I’ll handle every little thing.”

You tried to shift, but his hold only tightened, his warmth both comforting and stifling. “Just relax, my love,” he crooned, his lips brushing your temple. “All you have to do is lie here and be good for me, let me keep you safe. I’ll take care of every breath you take if I have to.”

A faint pang of claustrophobia crept in as he held you, but his soothing, rhythmic touch on your hair made it hard to resist sinking back against him. His fingers trailed down your spine, rubbing gentle, possessive circles as he murmured sweet nothings, his voice a soft, dark lullaby.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his tone dipping into something almost dangerous, though his touch remained gentle. “There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep you safe, keep you here with me.” He stroked your cheek, his gaze intense as he watched you, his face softening as he took in every detail of your weakened state. “So don’t even think about leaving, whether that be in life or death.”

In his embrace, you felt yourself drifting once more, lulled by the warmth, by the touch that was both smothering and tender. And as you lulled to sleep, you couldn’t shake the feeling that with every little act of care, every gentle touch, Suguru was binding you tighter and tighter, locking you in a world where you would always be his to protect—his, and only his.

Nanami - Just to be sure

You awoke abruptly in the night, a sickening wave rising in your stomach. You slipped from his tight grip as quietly as you could, pressing a hand over your mouth as you stumbled to the bathroom, desperate to make it in time. The door shut behind you with a muffled slam, and you collapsed in front of the toilet, gripping the cold porcelain as your body heaved, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. You didn't care whether your captor heard you or not as you continued to drain every ounce of you. You slumped over the seat, letting your cheek rest against your arm as you tried to steady yourself.

But then came the soft, deliberate click of the lock turning. Your heart plummeted as his shadow filled the doorway. Nanami’s gaze was heavy, his sigh almost… indulgent, as if he’d expected this. You couldn’t even bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"Rough night?" he murmured, his tone deceptively soft. In his hand, you heard the faint rustling of cardboard being opened. Medicine, perhaps? You flinched, a prickle of fear clawing up your spine, as your eyes met the cardboard box. "Here," he said, stepping forward and extending a small, pink test between his fingers. "Take this for me.”

The sight of the pregnancy test twisted your stomach again, but this time with a different kind of nausea. You swallowed hard, feeling your hands tremble as you stared at the item he held out so calmly, that familiar, unsettling smile ghosting over his lips.

“Please,” he continued, voice coaxing, his smile a bit too unsettling. “It’s the holidays, after all. Good news would mean so much to me.” His eyes gleamed with a strange intensity, one that made your skin crawl. “Ino and Yuji would love to hear about our little addition.”

Your hands shook as you took the test from his hands, too frightened to refuse, too exhausted to protest. You didn’t dare push him further. You knew what lengths he would go to. You were lucky he wasn't forcing you to piss on it on the spot. The lines between his kindness and his control had long since blurred, and you knew the cost of defiance.

“Could you… step out?” you whispered, your voice barely above a rasp. His expression tightened, a flicker of annoyance clouding his face before he relented, stepping back, but only leaving the door open a sliver.

“I won’t look,” he promised, though his voice carried that familiar edge. “But I’ll be right here in case you… need me.”

His words hung ominously in the silence, and even with him just outside, you felt his presence pressing in on you, felt the weight of his watchful attention. Fucking freak. You forced yourself to go through with it, nerves fraying with each second, each stolen glance you imagined him taking through the door. Finally, the result appeared: one line. Negative.

When you opened the door, he stood waiting, his face unreadable, his gaze fixed. He didn’t say a word, simply handed you another test, and then another, his lips thinning further with each negative result.

A dark shadow crossed his face as he let out a slow, disappointed sigh. “Must just be a stomach bug, then,” he murmured, his tone clipped, tinged with quiet frustration and disappointment. He reached for you, his touch firm as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you to the shower, reaching to lift the hem of your nightgown. "Let's get you bathed, shall we? My little wife." he said softly.

The words hung heavy in the air—my little wife. There was a possessiveness in his tone, one that sent a fresh wave of dread coursing through you. His hands, steady and unrelenting, guided the straps of your nightgown over your shoulders and down your arms, letting it fall to the floor in a soft whisper of fabric. You felt his gaze travel over you, inspecting you as if to memorize every detail, every inch of skin he considered his.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature with his usual calm precision. The warm water began to fill the silence, though it did nothing to wash away the creeping chill that had settled in your bones. His hand remained on your shoulder, a steadying presence that felt more like a shackle than a comfort.

“Step in,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost coaxing, as though this were some intimate, shared moment between husband and wife, as though you’d chosen to be here.

You stepped under the water, feeling its warmth spread over you, but Nanami didn’t move away. Instead, he reached for a cloth, lathering it with soap, his movements deliberate, almost ritualistic. He ran the cloth over your shoulder, then down your arm. You could feel the weight of his gaze, his attention never wavering.

“My little wife,” he murmured again, the words slipping from his lips with unsettling ease. “You’re too fragile. You need someone to look after you… how do expect us to build a family, if you don't let me take care of you?”

His touch moved to your back, the cloth trailing down your spine. Every motion was painstakingly slow, as if he was savoring the moment, drawing it out. His fingers pressed just a little too firmly, a subtle reminder of the control he held, his grip tightening slightly whenever he sensed the faintest hint of resistance.

“You’ve been so stubborn,” he continued, his voice a quiet murmur just above the sound of the water. “I’ve had to go to such lengths to make sure you’re safe, to make sure you understand that this is where you belong. With me.”

You swallowed, the words dying in your throat as you felt the cloth glide down your arm again, his movements lingering, methodical. He was talking as if he truly believed this—his delusion woven so deeply into his mind that he couldn’t see it for what it was.

As he finished, he reached to turn off the water, his hand lingering on the knob for a moment before he looked back at you, his smile too kind for comfort. “I’ll dry you off,” he said, almost tenderly, reaching for a thick towel off the counter and wrapping it around your shoulders.

He guided you out of the shower, his hold firm as he began patting your skin dry with a soft towel. His hand brushed your cheek, wiping away a stray droplet, his gaze softening in a way that would’ve seemed caring if not for the dark gleam beneath it.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice low and sickeningly sweet.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but before you could pull away, he held you tighter, pressing his lips softly to your forehead, a mockingly gentle gesture that only served to deepen your dread.

“Let’s get you back to bed, my little wife,” he murmured, his tone soft and full of sickening love that made your skin crawl. He guided you out of the bathroom, his hand firm on the small of your back, and with every step, you could feel the walls of your world closing in, tighter and tighter, until there was no room left for escape.

[leighsartworks216]

Break The Fever

Zayne x gn!Reader

This is based on when I actually was hospitalized for three weeks with something they never figured out. Ah, back in the good ol days before covid

Warnings: hospital/hospitalization, sickfic, needles, light angst, established relationship

Word Count: 2,112 (nice)

Main Masterlist

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AO3

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The office phone began to ring. This was a normal occurrence.

Zayne set down his pen and brought the receiver to his ear. He expected a call about one of his patients - Mr. Jefferson refusing to take his medicine, one of the kids asking for permission to go outside and play. Something equally as normal that isn’t a full blown emergency.

This is an emergency.

“Dr. Zayne, you’re listed as the emergency contact for a patient that was just admitted.

His heart froze in his chest. His eyes immediately went to the snowman plushie on his windowsill. Who else would have him listed as an emergency contact?

“What were they admitted for?”

“They came to the ER with a 102 fever.”

“What room are they in?”

-

Everything was so, so cold.

Your teeth chatter uncontrollably. Your entire body convulses with shivers. Despite the sweater, hoodie, and three blankets keeping you warm, nothing brings warmth back into you.

They are trying to place a cannula in your arm. All you see is the needle they want to stick in you. You can’t think at all. Can’t calm yourself down enough to let them do their jobs. In your lucid, fever-driven haze, all you know is you’re terrified of needles. And you need to get away.

The nurse is about to try again, two other nurses holding you down to avoid hurting yourself or them, when a cool voice stops her. You recognize it, but you can’t quite place it. It’s like hearing three notes of a song.

Someone in a white coat takes over. He takes the needle, but keeps it out of your direct line of sight. Your hand is hot, clammy, and weak as he holds it. The other nurses let go. The sharp visage of Zayne hovering over you projects into your mind like a reflection on rippling water.

He says your name. Soft, but firm. Caring, but with an all-too-familiar edge of concern. “I need to put the cannula in your arm so we can start you on an intravenous drip,” he explains. “We’ll be able to draw blood and give you medicine this way. You won’t have to see another needle again after this.”

Your jaw hurts. Your teeth hurt. You grind them together to keep them from chattering, but they won’t stop. Tears prick your eyes. “‘M c-cold,” you whimper.

“I know. I promise to warm you up, but I need to do this first. Will you let me?”

You nod pathetically. He quietly thanks you, fighting the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. The cold of the cleaning wipe makes you hiss. Your exposed arm is covered in goosebumps. You don’t fight him anymore. As much as you can help it, anyway. You flinch and clench your hand, but you turn your head away as he inserts the cannula into your vein and tapes it in place. They draw a couple vials of blood, and hook you up to an IV that drips its solution down into your bloodstream.

Zayne carefully covers your arm again so the tube runs under your sleeve, and tucks it under your blankets. “Try not to move this arm too much,” he warns tenderly. “If it comes out, we have to do this again.”

You nod again, but you’re barely listening. You curl up onto your side facing the IV, trying to conserve any amount of heat.

For as much as he wishes he could comfort you in your suffering, he needs to figure out what the problem is. He needs to find a way to treat you. Surely, that would help more than watching you cry.

He tells a nurse to monitor your condition. If your fever rises any higher, they’ll have to take drastic measures to cool you back down before it causes irreparable damage.

He doesn’t let himself think about that.

Before he leaves, he holds your hand again. His thumb brushes your knuckles. You cling to him, shaking uncontrollably. A permanent ache latches onto his heart as he pulls away. Back to work. Back to saving your life. Like always.

-

The next time his phone goes off, it’s a notice from the nurse that your fever broke. It’s nearly 10pm, far past his work hours.

He leans away from the microscope and removes his glasses to rub at his tired eyes. If you could see him now, he’s sure you would be getting onto him for not getting enough rest.

He sighs heavily. The lab is dark. It’s just him and a desk light, and the light of the microscope on the slides of your blood. A machine in the corner whirs in a quiet hum, working to break down the components of your blood into numbers he can reference against his knowledge of medical ailments and the textbooks the hospital keeps on hand. It won’t be done for a while. He’s testing for everything he can think of, and more.

Resigned to taking a break, Zayne stands, cleans up the workspace, and turns the light off as he leaves.

His first stop is to his office. He calls a nearby restaurant on his way up, placing a familiar order for takeout. There were times when you’d stubbornly stay in his office until he finished a long surgery or paperwork. You were so excited when you discovered the little mom-and-pop place, and even happier when the food was good. He got all your favorites.

His office felt colder, somehow. Lingering there made his skin crawl with discomfort. He hung his coat up in its designated place. The plush snowman smiled at him from the window sill. He only hesitates for a second before grabbing it and heading straight for your room.

The hospital’s lights were dimmed. If it weren’t for the few nurses walking around, he could have tricked himself into thinking he was in his nightmares. Maybe this was a nightmare. A new one. But he remembers the way you held him. How real that felt. There was no way this was just a dream.

He cracks open the door slowly. The large window displays the beautiful sight of Linkon City lit up at night. The stars are vivid, blurring into the cacophony of neon lights and the bustle of humanity.

Your body is turned to face it, away from the door. All but one blanket has been shucked off, kicked to the foot of the bed or dropped carelessly onto the floor. Your sweatshirt and sweater are mostly off, save for the arm your IV fed into. At least you remembered to be careful.

He steps inside quietly, closing the door behind him with a soft click. You curl up into yourself with a sigh.

“I don’t need anything right now. You can go.”

He chuckles. You turn your head quickly at the sound, wincing when the world misaligns. “I just got here, and you’re already trying to get rid of me,” he teases. Your world slowly coalesces onto his face, leaning over you once more. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead.

“I didn’t know it was you.” His hand is blessedly cool against your flushed skin. You’re still warm, but the chills have subsided for the time being. “You can stay.”

He settles the snowman into the crook of your arm. You’re holding onto it before you even know what it is. He’s glad to see your smile at a time like this. “How are you feeling?” He moves around to the other side of the bed.

“Like I have no control over my body. Or my mind,” you admit. “It’s… hard to think straight. It’s all slow and muddled. And when I couldn’t stop shivering? Ugh, I hate it.”

Nimble fingers detach the IV from the cannula temporarily. Long enough to gently remove your layers. You sigh in relief at having your arm back. You were so cold earlier, but now you feel like the bed is on fire. Like every inch of your body is burning in an inferno.

“Your body was trying very hard to kill off whatever’s making you sick. By shivering, your body contracts and relaxes your muscles to generate heat and raise your core temperature. So while you feel cold,” he replaces the IV tube, “your actual temperature is extremely warm.” He rounds the bed again and sits down on the edge, busying himself with your chart. “On top of that, your high fevers are going to make staying lucid difficult.” He flips it over to the next page.

Guilt tugs at you as you watch him. He doesn’t have his lab coat, but he’s still got his doctor face on. Even now, so late at night, when he should be allowed to leave work behind, you’ve invaded his workplace, bringing his personal life with you. “I’m sorry.”

He looks at you. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Making you work even more, just to take care of me.”

“You don’t have control over being sick,” he says. He sets the chart aside.

“No, but…” You let go of the snowman to grab his hand. You frown. “I don’t know how to word it right now.”

He smiles imploringly, stroking your hand with his thumb. “Just do your best. I’ll work it out from there.”

You mull over how to phrase what you want to say, brain sluggish and twisting up thoughts until you could pull together the words enough. “I feel bad about it because I know you won’t go home now.” You watch your fingers pull from his hold enough to trace over the faint scars that litter his hand. He lets you, resting his hand against the bed. “Because… even though I want you to go home and sleep… I also don’t want to be alone here.”

“I think you worded that pretty well.” You meet his eyes, but you continue to feel along his hand. He catches your hand, trapping it against the bed and squeezing affectionately. “How about we come up with a compromise? I’ll stay with you at night and on my breaks, but I’ll go home in the morning to clean up, and come in at my regular hours. How does that sound?”

You nod slightly. “Deal, as long as I won’t get you sick.”

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t seem to be contagious. You don’t have to be worried about getting anybody else sick.”

“Good. I don’t want anybody else to feel like this.”

A light knock on the door disturbs the conversation. Zayne gets up and answers it, speaking softly with someone outside. You wonder if it’s a nurse, wanting to take your vitals again or looking for Dr. Zayne. But then there’s a crinkling sound and he’s coming back over to the bed with a large bag of takeout. You can’t help laughing a little.

“What’s so funny?” he asks as he begins pulling containers from the bag. He separates them into yours and his.

“I just wasn’t expecting it.” You slowly sit up, trying hard not to jostle the IV. It doesn’t escape your notice how Zayne watches from the corner of his eye. “Thank you.”

He smiles. “Of course.” He gestures for you to scoot over, so you do. Once there’s enough space, he sits down beside you, handing you utensils and your food. You’ve still got enough fine motor control to feed yourself. Though, even if you didn’t, he would have been more than happy to feed you.

After you’ve finished eating, Zayne clears the bed, tucking everything back into the bag. He takes his shoes off and sets them to the side before laying down next to you. Your head rests on his arm, hands holding the snowman plushie to your chest, with his other arm wrapped around you. His hand rubs comforting shapes into your lower back.

“Goodnight, Zaynie,” you whisper.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight, my love.”

Through everything you face next, you aren’t alone. When you wake up at 3am to chills wracking your body, he’s helping you put your sweatshirt back on and layer you in blankets. When the fever recedes and you’re desperately trying to get all the layers off, he’s speaking to you softly, pressing chilled hands to your neck and forehead to calm you down while he helps you. Even when he goes home in the morning, and when he has to leave to take care of his other patients, he’s only a call away, directing your care behind the scenes. Three weeks later, he’s the one filling out your discharge forms. He never figures out what caused it.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover

[anenbylittlepotato]

Tears of Love

Includes: Zhongli, Furina, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Itto, Ei

Warnings: Furina's is post-Fontaine archon quest bc I doubt she would be in any relationship pre-archon quest. Both Neuvillette and Furina contain vague spoilers

How Genshin character would react to you hugging them while crying and then saying "I just love you so muuuucch..."

Also, uhhh hey guys, I know I haven't written anything in 5 million years haha, sorry... I have been died dw about it. To make up for it I'm going crazy go stupid with this one. Gonna try and make a part 2 and maybe part 3 but idk when or if it’ll even happen

Zhongli

When he sees you crying, he is instantly concerned.

And then, when you run up and hug him, he's even more concerned as he hugs back, gently placing his hand on your head and rubbing your back comfortingly.

"My love? What is the matter, dear?

He gently moves his hand from the back of your head to cup your cheek when you look at him with them big ol wet eyes.

"I just love you so muuuuccch!"

He looks taken aback for a moment, surprised by that response.

Then he chuckles warmly and looks at you with all the love and adoration in the world

"My beloved, you and your love mean the world to me. Your brilliant radiance is more than enough to light up even the darkest corners of my mind. I cannot dream of spending my days without you, but if such a day were to ever occur, I would carry your memory with me at all times with all the warmth and love in my soul."

This makes you cry even more

"Aaaaaa I love you so much...."

He gently presses his forehead to yours.

"I love you too, my dearest."

And then he kisses you softly.

Afterward, he sits down with you, holding you gently.

Furina

When you come up to her crying, she's instantly panicking.

Oh no did she do something wrong? Did she say something that upset you??? Has she been neglecting you??? Did she forget something important? Oh no oh no oh no-

And then you hug her and she's like. Okay. Did someone else do something to upset you? She's not sure what she can do now that she's no long on the archon throne, but she'll try whatever she has to! Or maybe something else happened, maybe something that has nothing to do with other people, maybe some horrible thing happened to you like what happened to her.

"S-S/O? Are you okay?? What happened, what's wrong?"

Then you look at her with those big ol wet eyes and she turns to mush inside.

"I just love you muuuuuccccchhh..."

For several moments she just stares at you, not knowing how to respond.

And then she also starts getting emotional

"Oh."

She hugs you back really tightly, burying her face against you.

"I... I love you tooooo...."

And now you're both crying and telling each other how much you love each other.

Neuvillette

The moment he sees you crying, the beginning of rain can be heard outside.

He absolutely hates seeing you upset in any way and he immediately wants to just hold you in his arms and take all your stress and pain.

He immediately walks over and sits next to you.

"S/O? Are you alright? What's happened?"

He is a little surprised when you hug him, but not entirely, and he hugs back, gently rubbing your back.

"It's alright, dear, take your time."

"I just- I just- I love you so muuuuuuuucccchhhh..."

Well he certainly was not expecting that.

It starts raining outside even heavier.

"Ah... Is that... Not a good thing...? I am uncertain as to why this would make you sad..."

You uh... You'll have to explain to him that crying doesn't necessarily only happen when you're sad, but just when you're overwhelmed by An Emotion. Any emotion. Even positive ones.

He won't really understand all that well but he's trying 🥺 He'll definitely be thinking about it for the rest of the week and might even do some research about it if he manages to find the time.

In the moment, though, he just holds you and tells you how much he loves you as well. He is a little confused when this makes you cry more, but he doesn't say anything.

Kaveh

Like Furina, he also panics instantly the moment he sees you crying.

He's much more frantic and open about it though.

"Oh no, darling, sweetheart, are you okay?! What's wrong?! Did I do something wrong, what happened?!"

Then you hug him and he's surprised.

"S/O...?"

"I just- I love you so muuuuccchh!"

Kaveh.exe has stopped working

"Wha- You- I-"

My poor boy instantly melts into a puddle, becoming a complete emotional wreck.

This man is so fragile he just shatters like glass and the dam breaks and out come the tears, and now he's crying harder than you.

He somewhat incoherently babbles about how much he loves you and hugs you so tightly, just completely falling apart.

... He may have also been drinking a bit before this.

Okay, not a bit. A lot.

And now, even though you were the one who was crying initially, you're gonna have to sit down with him and try to calm him down

This poor pathetic little man... he's such a mess... I love him...

Itto

Also one of the panickers. Except he's stupid about it.

He actually has absolutely no idea how to deal with someone who's sad. He doesn't get sad often himself and his gang aren't the type to get sad often either.

So the MOMENT you hug him crying, he is freaking the fuck out

"Oh, nononono, baby, don't cry, don't cry! Hey it's okay, it's alright, don't cry!"

When he can't get you to calm down right away, he's immediately thinking of other solutions.

"Hey, ya wanna go see Granny Oni? She always knows exactly what to do to cheer me up when I'm sad!"

You have to stop him from picking you up and running off with you to take you to Granny Oni.

"No- Itto. I'm not sad, it's just.... I love you so muuuuch..."

He blinks a couple times.

"What"

For once, the man is speechless.

But only for a couple moments.

"Wait, but if you're not sad, then why are you crying???"

You'll have to explain it like with Neuvillette, except Itto's dumb so it'll take a lot longer for him to pick it up.

You end up spending so long trying to explain it that you end up not crying anymore and just laughing at him

And that just makes him more confused

"You were just crying a minute ago why are you laughing???"

Himbo <3

Ei

When she sees you crying she is surprisingly sweet about it.

She walks over and gently cups your cheeks, tilting your head to look up at her.

"What's the matter, dear? Are you alright?"

Her voice is so soft and gentle.

She isn't too surprised when you hug her and she hugs back, gently rubbing your back.

“I just- I love you so muuuucccchhh….”

She’s a little surprised by that response for a moment.

But once she processes it, she is just so endeared by it.

She looks at you with such a lovesick smile.

Like she feels like her heart is about to burst with love omg

She chuckles gently and pats your head.

“I love you too, dear.”

Afterward, she kisses you on the forehead, and then on the lips.

All she wants to do after that is hold you gentle in her arms

And she’s going to do exactly that

She takes you to your bed and gently holds you so that your head is on her chest

Doesn’t matter if you’re bigger than her. Your face? On the booba

I had to tag Neuvillette so many times bc apparently no one knows how to spell it 😭 Two Ls and two Ts people

If you like my writing, consider buying me a coffee! It really helps me out and helps me keep doing this!

[theguyinthemathexamples]

Guns and... Aeons?

May Aventurine grant his luck upon everyone's Boothill pulls!!!

— C/W : spoilers?, set at the end of the 2.2 quest, boothill is boothill ft. argenti, i forgot what his lore is so take anything i say with a grain of salt, LOTS of yapping, guns and roses sneak, very self-indulgent :3

Boothill never really had much faith in Aeons, much less worshipped any. He already lost it all when he gained the information, that darned rain of fire that destroyed everything, was deployed by a zealot.

Don't get him wrong, he still knew they existed. But he internally wished that maybe, if any Aeon took pity on him on that day, maybe he could have changed the outcome of it all.

Well, that was all in the past now. He'd be a rusted out piece of metal by now if he let himself wallow in bygone events.

A low sigh didn't fail to make itself known, inadvertently catching the attention of the knight just at the other end of the room. Boothill even forgot he was there due to how quiet he was.

"A rose for your thoughts, friend?" The knight inquired, sitting at the other end of the couch. He nearly jumped at the sudden question but was just as quick to regain his composure.

"Nothin' much, just thinkin' and all," he replied, only tilting his head to look at this eccentric friend of his.

Ironic that Argenti was a man quite devoted to an Aeon, especially to a long deceased one, when Boothill was borderline detesting a good amount of them.

"This dadgum pull I've been feelin'... D'you know somethin' about it, knight?"

It was something he'd been feeling for a while now but it's been getting stronger as of late. And the voices... He'll leave those out till Argenti mentions something about it.

To put it frankly, he was worried. Quite more so if nothing else.

"Does it make you feel like wanting to visit the Astral Express, friend?" Argenti inquired shortly after,

Boothill simply nodded, curious as to how this Knight of Beauty knew of such. Sensing his curiosity, said knight certainly wouldn't mind going into the further details.

In fact, he was more than enthusiastic to do so.

"As Idrila's reason to have ascended into Aeonhood, it is only natural that I give high praises to the Aeon of Creation for such magnificence— that THEIR creations have inspired my Goddess to reach THEIR most pinnacle potential."

If this was how he talked about his Aeon and this... well, other Aeon, the two would be here till his batteries run out. And he was just about done recharging to full a few hours ago.

It wasn't till a good amount of minutes into the topic that Boothill kinda got a little impatient. No offense to Argenti, of course.

"And it wasn't till recently that their wondrous consciousness graced the unive—"

"Alright, alright, I get it, knight. Don't mean to offend ya, but can ya get straight to why I felt the pull earlier?" Boothill interjected, looking straight at his companion,

He swore that the way this man shone brightened up even more.

"My apologies if I overwhelmed you, dear friend," Argenti said, giving the cowboy an apologetic bow while he was sitting.

"Simply put, this pull you feel is but the manifestations of the Aeon of Creation! Perhaps your brilliant self captured THEIR attention when you were conversing with the Trailblazer," he continued, yapping up another storm as Boothill thought to himself.

"Seriously? This ol' hunk of metal? Catchin' an Aeon's attention? Colour me fudgin' surprised."

"Ah, this is certainly a moment worth celebrating, don't you think so, friend?" Argenti's voice spoke out, bringing his attention back to the knight.

Yet, before this interstellar cyborg cowboy could even agree or otherwise, a black envelope materialized in front of him, the edges lined with red and gold designs.

One surprise after another, huh?

The knight was quick to encourage him to open it up, taking out a letter opener from who knows where. Well now he's starting to get excited.

A golden Star Rail Pass was the first to get taken out of it, its colour shining in the midst of the room's lights. Next was a neatly folded paper that was probably penned by the Astral Express' Conductor. (Somehow; I mean, look at their itty bitty hands) It reads as follows:

—————————✧—————————

Hello, future Astral Express member, Boothill! This letter has been written by Pom-pom to formally invite you to join the Trailblaze.

By all means, this doesn't mean that you should abandon your faith for any Aeon(s) you may believe in, so long as it doesn't prohibit the other members of the Astral Express from going about their days.

As you may have guessed, yes, the golden ticket provided inside is a very formal way for Pom-pom to ask you to join us, as well as a sign that the Aeon of Creation has taken a liking to you!

To compensate for any forms of distress or trouble their consciousness has caused you, the Astral Express will be willing to offer a living space, electricity, wifi, food, water(gasoline?), as well as any other necessities and wants you may have.

Though if you truly want to seek trouble with the IPC, as the Aeon commented, please leave the Astral Express out of association for any crime you may commit in the future.

If you're ready to take on this journey with the Nameless, as well as many others, please use the ticket once the thought of doing so so much as suggests the notion.

• P.S. : Unfortunately, you don't have much time to mull it over, much less get another letter in this envelope to choose who to cover for you instead.

• The Aeon of Creation awaits your presence. •

—————————✧—————————

As Argenti finished reading the letter aloud, the expectant lilt on his face that he looks at Boothill with catches his attention the most.

"I nearly forgot to mention, dear friend, as a faithful believer of this Aeon, one can assure you that THEY don't mean any harm," he spoke, a smile gracing his lips as he continued. "The blessings THEY give to ones that they favour are quite abundant, and your captivating self truly made its impact on THEM."

"Even THEY couldn't help but praise you endlessly for your courage and demeanor!" Argenti proclaimed, almost making the cowboy in front of him want to tune him out again. ... That last part was a lie.

With a reluctant sigh, finally agreeing with the knight, the golden Star Rail Pass and the envelope in hand, Boothill stood up from his seat and went over to exit his friend's ship— to which Argenti quickly stopped him, hand outstretched for him.

"Need me to lead you there, friend?" He asks, head tilting to his left as his eyes brightened up with that usual glow.

"... Yeah, sure. Ya won't stop botherin' this ol' piece of metal to give ya updates if I said otherwise," Boothill laughed at the end of his reply, taking the knight's hand and letting him lead the way.

Maybe making a decision with a third party beside him won't be so bad.

Note : ong this took WAY TOO LONGGGGG TO MAKEEEEEEE 😭😭

My most sincere apologies to anyone whose patience ran out while waiting for this fic to come out 💔

BUT IT'S OUT NOW SO REJOICE EVERYONE ‼️‼️

Anyways, have a lovely day to all of you !! (disappears for another month)

And yes dw my interp of sahsr/sahsrau will come out maybe around late june once my recognition finally comes to pass

[adams-angels]

If you have the time ofc do you thing you can write a husk X fem reader pretty please like she was sad and he praised her and wrapped his wings around them while they fuck AH IM BLUSHING HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY🤭🤭

♦️of course I can try! I'm not a writer so I might write Husk all wrong and I'm so sorry if this isn't what you imagined! But still I hope you enjoy!♥️

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Smut below the cut! Minors dni

Today was hard. Trying to be redeemed is hard! Who knew this?! You sure as hell wouldn't of signed up to his dumb hotel if you'd known this. Everything today went wrong and you're no closer at being heaven worth as you were before you started.

You walk into the hotel, slamming open the door. "Ugh." Heading straight to the bar where good ol' friendly Husk is. With a scowl on your face you slump into the bar stool. "Usual, Huskie." You request.

The cat like overlord watched you the whole way. Unimpressed. "Bit early for that don't you think?" His deep voice rumbled. "Listen, your the bartender and I'm the patron so booze me up." You demand, slamming your hand on the bar.

He pours you a drink, placing it down in front of you. You lick your lip and go to pick it up before he snatches it away and downs it. "Hey, what the hell!?" "What?" "You just drank my fucking drink?!" Your voice broke, it was all getting to much. "Give me a fucking drink, Husk!" "Tell me what's wrong first." "What?! What the hell kinda service is this?!" You yell. "Fuck you! Dumb cat, bird, fucking casino dick!" You push yourself away from the bar before storming upstairs to your bedroom. Wiping away any tears that escaped on the way.

You enter your room slamming the door shut like a child sulking. The noise can be heard throughout the hotel. Husk rolls his eyes and heads to the stairs, Charlie sees him on the way. "What was th-" Husk raises his hand to Charlie. "I'm on it."

There's a knock at your door. You wiped your eyes and sniffed. "Go away, Charlie." The voice behind the door speaks "Not Charlie." You look at the door in confusion and frustration. You look over in the mirror at your vanity table and try wiping off any running mascara. "What do you want?" You ask, trying to hold back tears. "Let me in. Let's talk." You groan. Why does he have to care? Does he care? Or is this just something he can bring up later.

You walk over to the door and open in before quick turning back into your room and sitting on your bed with your back to him. "Are you crying?" Husk asks sincerely. "No." You reply. He heads towards you, stretching out his wings and arms as he does. "No, of course not. I mean, why would you? Only nothing is going as you planned."

You sniffed, wiping your nose with your sleeve. "Why is it so hard?" You asked, you know he wasn't going to have the answer you wanted. "You thought this would be easy? Please. You were sent to hell for a reason. You think you can just add a couple please and thank yous and you'd be up there? Come on, man." A man with words. "No, I know I wasn't going to be easy but ... Whatever." You mumble.

He puts his arm over your shoulder bringing you closer. You sigh deeply, resting your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't of .. y'know." He tuts and looks down at you. "Look, at you." He lift up your chin. "Apologising. Real redemption like." You chuckle lightly. "Shut up, Huskie."

"I hate it when you call me that." He wraps his arms around you lifting you onto his lap. His wings surround the both of you. "You know, I know something that might cheer you up." His deep voice like a melody to your eyes. "hmm, how's that?" He glances down at his crotch pursing his lip. "You're so lame." You chuckle. He kisses your collar bone. "Hm, you love it."

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

You slid yourself down to unbuckle his belt, he grabs your legs as he stands slightly to help you pull down his pants. His already hard member springing out. "Oh~!" You purr, brushing your fingers against his length causing him to pant. His wing twitches at your touch.

"you looked so sad." He brushes a loose stand of hair behind your ear. "I feel sad.." you pouted. "But I'll make you feel better." He told you, adjusting your body, lining your entrance with his cock. Gently pushing you down, your tightness envelopes him. "F-fuck~"

Carefully, he bounces you on his member. Cuddling as he fucks you, his wings wrapped around you both, protecting you like a dome. He spends the time fucking you tenderly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and peppering your neck and shoulders with kisses. "You're so tight, y/n."

His hips start stuttering as he feels his release coming, moving faster. Grunting with your moans. He adjusts you in such away that hits your g-spot perfectly, resulting a deep gutteral moan escapes from you. He holds you down as he thrust into finishing inside of you, cum leaking out of your cunt. You both take a moment to catch your breath. "Happy now?" He asks. "Yes." You reply.

[alexa-fika]

Hello, can you do injuredchild!dokucha x Cross guild. It was buggys fault because he was suppose to take you out on a little walk outside but he then got distracted and now he lost you. They try to find you, mihawk worried. After 2 days, they find out the marinies took you when Buggy wasn't looking.

Thank you, and make sure to drink water

Family Secrets (Cross guild x gn!child!reader)

A/N okay…. I totally missed the injured part of the piece but hopefully this is somewhat what you were expecting. GUYS I AM BACK, I THINK. MY THROAT STILL HURTS BUT PINK EYE IS GONE, I think, BUT I DID IT , BE PROUD OF ME

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stabds for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

“Cruncle is going to be reallyy mad at Mister Clown if he hears what you said,” the child said, a frown on their face as they looked up at clown

“Bah, he won’t know. I'm no snitch. Are you a snitch?”

“Umm, I don’t think I should keep things from Dad and Cruncle…”

“You should, they could get mad, y’know?”

“Dad and Cruncle are going to get mad at me?!” They cried

“They won’t if you don’t snitch, that will make them happy.”

“O-okay, if it makes Cruncle and Dad upset then I won’t be a snitch!”

“Atta Kid, what does make them happy is for you to call me Uncle Buggy, to hear how good of a time you had with ol Uncle Bugg…!” Buggy grinned, only to frown as the child began tugging at his clothes, trying to get his attention again

“What?! Don’t interrupt me!” He snapped

“But Mister Clown, ships are coming to the island.”

“Yeah, yeah, those are probably more guild members returning after handing out rewards,” he brushed off, trying to continue his previous statement, only to scowl as once again he was interrupted

“But they’re marine ships…

“You little brat let me ta- HAH?!”

His words were promptly cut off as the sound of bombing began to be heard, heavy objects crashing around them; the last thing they heard was the shrill cries of their self-proclaimed uncle

“Oh, you’re Up!”

Dokucha looked up at the sound of the voice, finding themselves being carried by an unfamiliar man in a familiar uniform, upon realizing this, they were quick to scramble off the man with a startled cry

“Hey! Hey! Don’t worry. We are here to rescue you! We’re the good guys!” They exclaimed, kneeling next to the startled child

“Where’s Papa?” They cried, backing away from them

“Papa? Oh! Those slimy pirates must have kidnapped you. Don’t worry, we’ll find your Papa!”

“Dokucha, if you are ever captured, you must not let the Marines know about your relationship with me.” Mihawk started looking at the child in front of him

“No! I Want everyone to know about Papa!” They remembered screaming back at his father’s strange statement only to squeak at the glare the former threw at them at the interruption

“Sorry”

“Listen, it is to protect you. If marines were to know of your relationship with me, they would not be as kind to let you go, making it harder to retrieve you.”

“Harder to come back to Papa?”

“Yes, if they do know of me, you can come back with ease”

“I want everyone to know I’m Papa’s and how awesome he and Cruncle are, but if it means I can come back sooner, I will keep it a secret! I'm really good at keeping secrets!”

“I know you are,” he replied with a small smile, ruffling their hair

“Kid?”

“Ah?”

“Do you know the name of your father?”

“No..,” they sniffled climbing to their feet

“I see; well, just give me a minute. I will report back, and then we will be on our way,” he said pulling out a den den mushi from his coat

“Okay, sorry to make you wait, now let’s head to the ship. I'm sure your father must be close by, and if those scumbags got him, we will save him!”

“Ship?” They questioned

“Yes, we can help you look for him when we make contact with HQ.”

“That won’t be necessary.” A voice cut in

The blinked owlishly as the marine plummeted to the ground, grinning at the familiar figure standing behind them

“Uncle Daz!” They cheered, running and jumping to the arms of the officer

“Are you ready to go?”

“Are we going to find Papa?”

“No. I am already aware of his whereabouts; we are heading back to the guild.”



“Hah? Where is Papa?”

“He is handling the disturbance along with Crocodile; we will rendezvous at the guild.”

“That should be the last of them,” muttered Crocodile, glancing at the destruction surrounding him and his co-worker had created, a chuckle escaping him

“Something you wish to share?,” Mihawk muttered, shedding Yoru behind him

“Never took you for the protective type, Hawkeye.”

“What are you on about?”

“Don’t try to hide it; the kid affects you; there is anger behind your sword.”

“….”

“Has the fearsome Hawkeye gone soft on someone?”

“Hold your tongue if you wish to keep it, Crocodile,” he sighed as he walked away, letting the latter snicker away in amusement only for his amused smile to turn into a scowl around at words

“Not to mention, you have also been affected by them; I was not the only one blinded by rage in this battle.”

“Papa!” Dokucha cheered, running to the arms of the swordsman as he made his way into the guild

“I apologize I did not retrieve you personally. Are you alright?”

“Yeah! Uncle Daz found me from the marine guy,” they cheered, nuzzling into their father's embrace

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, a slight tightening in his hold at the words spoken

“No, but he kept insulting everyone! He was so mean, Papa!”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! Such a meanie! He kept calling you icky names, but I did as Papa asked and never told him about you!” They grinned, throwing the swordsman a thumbs up

“I knew I could trust you with it, good job” he replied, a smile forming on his face

They beamed at his praise, giggling happily until a thought came to mind

“Eh? Papa, where is mister Clown?”

“Don’t worry about him. He is occupied at the moment; Crocodile is with him.”

“Oh! Is Cruncle taking care Of him? Is he hurt?”

“He is….taking care of him, yes. I will join him soon enough to clear some with the clown as well.”

Here we go, like I said I did miss that injured part but hopefully you guys like it? Im sorry I kept all of you waiting for so long, is everyone still alive? Also im sorry to the buggy fans but….he’s gone, he definitely ain’t surviving this

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[leonw4nter]

been obsessed with ur fics relating to Taylor’s songs 🥺 can u do one with ‘sl/t’? Just a good ole fluffy fic.

My Cuddly Eldritch Boyfriend!

Eldritch Horror!RE2R!Leon x F!Reader

“Ah yes, my human female companion, I believe I am required to inform you of my whereabouts for today. Since we have run out of the minuscule jar of the chocolate-hazelnut spread you quite enjoy consuming with sliced bread, I had to leave our shared den and purchase some for you. It appears that I have underestimated the price of such delicacy for the bills I have pocketed fell short of a few more dollars,” your boyfriend Leon happily recounted as he showed you the large tub of sandwich spread that he bought earlier today. “Boyfriend”, rather, if he can be considered that.

Leon waltzed into your life quite interestingly, a little more differently than most boyfriends do in the lives of others who have them. You were trapped in an unhappy relationship, the kind where you had to beg to be shown affection and got scolded for buying yourself little goodies like a funny little pond jewelry dish. He was always on his gaming computer or out with his buddies for beer and snacks, yelling at you over the phone whenever you refused to lend him more money. You went home one evening, after a draining workday, to see your “boyfriend” quietly cleaning around the house and stopping to greet you good evening and ask you about your day. It’s quite the contrast to go from an “annoying clingy hoe” to “human female companion” but the latter is leagues better than the other words hurled at you. Leon isn’t even the name of your former boyfriend, wherever he is now; this replacement simply decided to name himself. You know you should be looking for your former partner, wherever he is, but you don’t want to. You’re more than happy with Leon and you wouldn’t want another undeserving girl to fall into the suffocating clutches of your ex.

“A lady has also offered me a small slice of processed meat– a sausage, it is called. Seasoned pork meat rolled into logs, a cut skewered into an infinitesimally slim stake referred to as ‘toothpick’. It is quite delectable, I must admit, but I haven’t any payment in my pockets so I had to politely decline her offer,” he continues recalling. You take out your phone and google a word: “infinitesimally”. This is another of the changes you noticed with your boyfriend: his lexicomane speech; you would never hear words the likes of ‘infinitesimally’ and ‘minuscule’ from him, intelligent phraseology is not in his vocabulary. A few days after the swap of boyfriends, you found yourself having to install a dictionary app on your phone in order to keep up with his sesquipedalian use of words and engage in conversation. You smile, finally spotting the definition of the word: extremely small.

“That’s great, Leon. We still have some sausage in the freezer, though, so I think it’s only right that you didn’t get some coz we might’ve ended up with far too much,” you respond as you set your phone down on the counter. “What brand was it though? I might pick that up for you next time around when I go for groceries.”

“Hm,” he hums in thought.

His human appearance appears to slightly glitch as he delves deeper into his recollections of the day earlier; he appears to have a chromatic aberration, multiple shadows of his head moving about and twitching around in smoky wisps, as several muffled voices of ancient chanting begin to grow a little bit more noticeable in volume. You grow worried yet you stay seated on your chair, carefully observing Leon before anything too out of control and mind-shattering occurs. Thankfully, he finally manages to remember before the voices get too overwhelming for your human mind.

“I believe it was called ‘MorningStar’,” he finally says. He falls silent, head tilting as his face grows expressionless. “Are you alright, girlfriend?”

He steps closer and sits in front of you, back straight and hands in his lap as he continues to observe you thoughtfully, the gears in his head turning to determine how to approach you.

“Oh, yes, Leon. Don’t worry, just zoned out a little. That’s all,” you respond with a forced smile that doesn’t convince him entirely.

“Have you finally observed that I have left the bathroom light bulb switched on during the entirety that I was out purchasing goods to consume?” he quietly asks, voice laced with guilt and shame as he looks at you with something akin to puppy-dog eyes; you didn’t know that eldritch horrors are capable of giving puppy-dog eyes. “I apologize with utmost remorse, my human female mate. In my haste to please you, I have overlooked a step in securing your household utilities.”

You wonder what is the connection between his previous concern for you and the most recent sentence he just uttered then it occurred to you that he wanted to delay admitting to  you that he forgot to switch off the lights; Leon must’ve also forgotten that humans don’t have the level of perception as whatever his kind has, or maybe he assumed that you and you alone possessed that ability. You never would have known if he didn’t bring it up to you. It is funny to see this eldritch being that was clearly trying to pass off as human, as if you had the power of the universe in your palm and could so easily kick him out into the streets, a look on his face now reminiscent of a kicked puppy. It appeared as if he shrank into his olive green sweater, hiding into the warm and dark depths that the piece of clothing offered. Now his ashamed aura was seeping into you, making you feel a slight tinge of what he’s feeling.

“Leon, it’s fine, okay? We’re still in one piece and nothing too bad happened. Besides, I have enough money to comfortably pay off utility expenses so there’s nothing much to worry about,” you reassure him with a gentle hand to his firm shoulder, feeling the spot unwind from the tension beneath your warm palm. “That happens to me too and I get frustrated sometimes but now I just laugh at it.”

He lights up again and that aura of despair fizzles away lickety-split. He beams again, a little too widely for what could be considered normal. He continues rambling on about sausages before asking you about your workday and leaning in to listen intently; you talk and talk, he sits and devotes all his attention to you and answers too, from time to time. He’s a lot more engaging and present when it comes to talking about yourself than your former boyfriend; all he’d talk about is himself and how you’re lucky he loves you, the occasional comparison to other girls. When you’re finally finished talking about your day, it’s Leon's turn to talk about his.

You don’t want to tell him that he’s not perfect on trying to pass off as another ordinary human being– he still tends to unhinge his jaw when he gets excited, his form glitches when he’s deep in thought, he refers to you as ‘human female mate’ or ‘human female companion’ or simply ‘girlfriend’ though in a manner free of offensive intentions, he likes to change the shades of his blue irises, and his verbose vocabulary. Other than the multiloquent manner that he converses in, no one seems to pick up on the irregularity of his physical form, not even when there’s faint shadows of his head fluctuating when he thinks; surely he’s travelling to universes beyond human comprehension just to figure out an answer to “what’d you think of the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie?”. You guess that he’s conjuring some form of illusion that mask slip-ups in his form but why this doesn’t apply to you, you’re not exactly sure but you don’t plan on telling him his lapses; you’re perfectly content with him cooling up your drink with his hand alone in a matter of seconds when you’re out together. He’s far from perfecting the image of a totally human boyfriend but you’re slightly positive that he’s the most perfect lover.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“I would like to relish in the amusement of motion pictures with sound alongside you on our couch,” Leon expresses in mild emotion though he seems quite eager to watch movies, just phrased in a more archaic fashion.

“Me too” you respond with a small giggle at his unintentionally goofy personality. “Got a movie in mind?”

“Movie? Ah, yes. The moving images,” he recalls. “I have overheard this title from a young couple I happened to share a bus with, Kate and Leopold, they said. Appertaining to this hearsay statement, it must be a picture that thoroughly imprints itself on the heart and mind.”

“Kate and Leopold?” you say out loud and he nods. “Sure, why not. C’mon let’s head to the living room.”

“Of course,” he responds with an enthusiastic smile as he gets up from his dining room chair and quietly pushes it back before trailing behind you like the lovecraftian horror puppy that he is.

You put on the movie, both settling into a comfortable silence, attention centered on the film on your TV. In the middle of the film, you realize how you are quite near to him yet he does not make advances to touch you as he appears content with your shoulders touching. You sit up, inching closer to his side yet you don’t make this all simultaneous as you don’t want to shock him into discomfort. Much to your pleasant amazement, he not-so-subtly extends his arm behind your neck and rests it there. You look at his head and his face is still trained on Leopold chasing the snatcher, though the tips of his ears are dusted with a faint bloom of pink; who knew that cosmic beings could blush. Now slightly more confident, he slowly tries to urge you closer to the warmth of his side though he’s now hesitant with his actions. You snuggle closer to his side and now his hand is comfortably resting on the side of your arm where his silvery touch sends a flurry of tingles. Leopold and Kate are now sharing a kiss on a rooftop after a waltz to which your heart nearly goes into overdrive; Leon is not faring any better, visibly red-faced and overcome with butterflies that press up against his lungs (if he has any), making breathing feel a little funny. You wonder if he’s mentally replacing the characters with you and him and the image makes him feel madly excited.

“Leon, are you cold?” you ask towards the movie’s nearing end.

“No, but are you?” he counters, turning to face you now.

“Kinda.”

“Would you like me to fetch some for you?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can get it myself–”

Something heavy and weighted and fuzzy envelopes you from the chest down, placed down by the man beside you.

“What’s this?” you ask in a slightly raised voice.

“A blanket,” he responds in a nonchalant manner.

“Why is it so heavy? I know weighted blankets exist but this one’s a little heavier than what I’m used to…”

“It’s bear fur.”

You fall silent, staring down at the brown fur mass laid above your body before staring back up at him, silently asking if this is his form of a prank. Unfortunately, he is serious about this.

“Um… Leon, I appreciate the blanket but I generally prefer faux fur to actual animal-sourced fur. It’s, you know, more wildlife friendly… yeah, um…”

You need not to say more when the blanket is still brown but is now clearly made of faux fur, having changed it right away without arguments or insults hurled at you. He seems satisfied with his service, adjusting the blanket to cover you up properly without obstructing your view of the movie. You offer to share the blanket but he objects, tomato-faced as he stutters his apology.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The movie is finished and he smiles, remarking on how the couple was correct about their opinions and recounting some of the lines that stuck to him. He seemed to especially adore the portion where Kate is enchanted by the sight of Leopold on horseback, most excitedly analyzing the scene and going into detail about the look of love and the twinkle of Kate’s eyes before sighing dreamily.

“I wish to one day flawlessly emulate the depth of emotion she captured with only both her eyes, though I am well-aware that this is all expert acting. It would be my pleasure to one day look at you with such adoration as you tell me tales for there is nothing more that I desire than to enlighten you about the boundless worship that I present to you,” he wistfully conveys as he watches you walk around the bedroom before settling down to lay beside him.

You softly giggle, biting your lip as his voice bounces off in the walls of your mind and plays over and over again.

“Thank you. You’re doing a great job at that already honey,” you sincerely respond to him as you slip under the sheets and get snug.

“Your welcome,” he softly murmurs as a dopey smile points the corners of his lips skyward.

You ask if you can switch the bedside lamp off and he nods, the darkness of the room taking over as your eyes adjust to the lack of light. You lay still and silent before quietly wishing him a good night and restful sleep, to which he returns before he shifts and faces his back to you. Sometime in the middle of the night Leon awakens to the warmth and weight of your head and arms on his chest, the sight of you causing a human warmth to bloom where a human heart would be. You are peaceful and delicate, basking in the warmth that his form offered; the fact that you sought him out in your sleep made him feel loved, a feeling he didn’t know he’d grow to constantly crave. He pulls you closer and delicately wraps his arms around you in a protective embrace, a soft purr humming from his chest– an actual purr, like a cat’s. He strokes your hair with a silvery touch, daintily patting strands as he thinks about the fragility of his human and how he’d need to be very careful with them. His silky hands cause you to drift between the world of sleep and waking consciousness, growing more aware of his purr. You’re not new to his purring; he purrs when you two hold hands while running errands together, he purrs when you refer to him as your boyfriend to other people, he purrs when he finds out that you bought him a snack he likes. He has yet to discover that humans do not and cannot purr, that’s why you aren’t returning his physical display of contentedness but he’s satisfied that you’re letting him hold you like this. You don’t mind his purring at all and you’re firm on the decision that you love him and that he loves you back.

NOTE - First off, thank you to the anon who requested this!! I hope this one reached your expectations, even if I did put a little twist to it :)) guys... I think we're back!!! coz I decided to start on this last night at around 11:30 PM and I rlly had my creative juices flowing, like it just occured to me so clearly so now ig I'm going to start quite late into the evening if I'm going to start something new :D this fic is inspired by the eldritch horror boyfriend prompts that I came across on TikTok and also bc I felt like writing Leon rlly poetic and soft tonightt teehee :3 That's it and and I hope you really enjoyed this fic :)) Thank you for reading my works!!!!!!!!!! I <3333 UUUUUU!!!!!!!!!

The dainty chain dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[jointherebellion215]

Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly. 

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?” 

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands. 

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.”  You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.” 

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely. 

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her. 

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her. 

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd. 

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you. 

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile…. 

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.” 

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over. 

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love” 

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base. 

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred. 

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

[thehandmaidenofcreativity]

Long idea so bare with me. You are a college student (fem pov) and you and you family are visiting your uncle for the summer. Your uncle just happenes to be JY Park (JYP) so you go to South Korea and that’s when you meet the group your uncle owns… stray kids. Now your dad really wants you to go on a date with one of them but you think that stray kids are actually stuck up and entitled so your like nope.your like ya there very fucking hot but…Then you get to know them and there not just hot as hell (and horny) but also good people. But your angry at your father so you don’t want to do what he asked but stray kids are so hot, so you sneak out to there dorm to do some not so kid friendly stuff if you get my drift. You can build on from that but that’s just an idea. Love your stuff <3 keep writing!

Wow hi! I was so shocked (and happy!) to get this ask. It was a little daunting, but I actually really enjoyed working on it. So thank you:) I hope you end up seeing this, Anon!

Comments: This is part one in what will likely be an ongoing series in which the reader will eventually be involved with all 8 members, but for now, we're starting with Seungmin and Hyunjin.

Rating: Explicit/18+

WC: 7.5k

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“Can you at least pretend you’re happy to be here?” Your mom is giving you the look again. “Jin-Young said he wants to take you to his company. Maybe he can give you a summer internship, so you’ll still have something to put on your resume.” 

“Ah yes,” you sigh and roll your eyes. You know that JYPE is a huge company with great artists, but you also know from experience that idols aren’t your cup of tea. Working there doesn’t sound like a great time. “Nothing like some good ole nepotism to boost your resume. Plus, I’m not even majoring in anything related to the music business.”

“Well honey, if you’re determined to be upset about this, then it’s not going to be a good summer.” She pats you on the shoulder, signaling that the conversation is over. “I just hope you’ll try to keep an open mind.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

The next day, after breakfast with your parents and uncle, you all head to JYPE. JYP gives you all a small tour, introducing you to the different groups currently in the practice rooms. The last group you meet is Stray Kids. Like the others, they immediately stop what they’re doing to come greet your uncle. Standing in a line like that, glistening from the sweat of their hard work; you stare shamelessly. You’ve seen a few of their videos, so you already knew they looked good. They’re even hotter in person. Even more so, because they aren’t cookie cutter copies of each other; they each have unique features that catch your eye. Still, you know what tends to hide behind pretty faces and hot bodies, so you don’t plan on thinking about them much once you leave this room.

JYP introduces you, and you’re met with the same fake, polite greeting from each of them. Then he throws a curveball. “So my niece will be spending a lot of time with you in the next few weeks; take good care of her.”

You try not to look too shocked and shoot a glance at your mom. She gives you a smile and a shrug as if this isn’t totally her doing. As your uncle begins discussing something with a couple members and your dad, you take her to the side to talk privately. 

“Mom! I’m going to be ‘spending time’ with them? Doing what? I told you I didn’t need a pity internship!” You whisper-shout as soon as you’re sure no one will hear you.

“Oh, you’re being a bit dramatic.” She shakes her head at you. “This will be a good experience for you! It’ll even relate to your major; you’re going to be helping them with their English, kinda like a tutor. Your future students are going to think you’re so cool being related to JYP; you’ll be able to bond with them even better when you can tell them you’ve worked with their favorite idols.”

She’s not entirely wrong, but you still don’t love the idea. Idols are the worst.

Soon it’s time for the guys to get back to practice, and your family’s tour ends in JYP’s office. Along the way, your dad gushes over Stray Kids, and you try not to look annoyed. You learn that SKZ is getting ready for their next world tour and some of them are feeling like they need to get back into the habit of speaking English so they can feel more confident interacting with their fans. 

“I was happy when your mother asked if there was anything for you to do around here. I think it’ll be a good way for you to stay busy and make friends while you’re here in Korea. And of course, we’ll get to spend so much more time together if you’re here in the building every day.” Your uncle looks so pleased; you don’t want to bring him down.

“I look forward to it.” You hope your smile doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “I really appreciate you giving me this opportunity.”

In the car on your way home, your dad kind of shocks you. “Honey, I think you should go on a date with one of those boys. Jin-Young speaks so highly of them, and they’re very polite and intelligent. Just the kind of boy we’d be happy to see you with.”

Your mom agrees immediately. “And they’re so talented! After I talked to my brother about your internship, I watched a few of their music videos. Not to mention, they’re all quite easy on the eyes.” 

“I don’t care how cute they are, mom!” Though you certainly wouldn’t kick any of them out of bed. “I would never date any of them.”

“Just think about it, honey.” Your dad isn’t going to let this go. “See how you feel after spending a few days working with them.”

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The next day, you show up to JYPE bright and early, wishing you were still in bed and dreading the day you’re about to spend with a bunch of hot assholes. When you arrive at the studio they’re starting out in, half the group is already there. Their leader, Bang Chan, greets you immediately and gestures for you to sit on the couch in the back of the room. The others are so engrossed in each other that they don’t even seem to notice you.

“So as you may know, Felix and I are also fluent in English since we’re both from Australia. The rest of the kids have various levels of fluency and confidence in their skills.” You have to actively remind yourself not to swoon over his accent. “It’ll be helpful to have another person to speak casually with and maybe correct pronunciation on some words. Sometimes they have questions about little grammar things, so they may ask you. I think that’s all? That sound okay to you?”

“Yeah, sounds fine.” Anything else you might say is lost when four rowdy guys walk in the studio. They’re laughing and a couple of them start yelling. This might be a long day. One of them - you probably should’ve made sure you knew who was who before coming today - starts handing out iced coffee to the ones who were here first. He surprises you by handing you one as well. “Oh, thank you! You didn’t have to get me anything.”

He gives you a big smile. Those dimples are dangerous. “You’re welcome! We didn’t want to leave you out.” 

His accent is cute, too. Which one is he? You’re about to try to run through their names in your head when Bang Chan claps his hands and yells, “Alright!”

The eight of them are suddenly lining up in front of you. After a ‘1, 2’ from Bang Chan, in unison, they say, “Step out. Hello, we are Stray Kids.” You weren’t expecting the full greeting like this again.  

“We know that this was kind of sprung on you, so we thought it would be a good idea to introduce ourselves again. So I am Bang Chan, though you can just call me Chan, or Chris, if you want.” Chan gestures to the guy next to him, and they sound off from there. You’ve got all their names down now. Though, of course it’s all stage names (for those who don't go by their first names), which feels a bit like keeping you at arm's length. Hopefully talking with them won’t be too annoying, but you’re worried about the idea of just hanging out with them all day; there’s only so much time you’re willing to spend with a bunch of douchebags.

Chan calls for Hyunjin to head into the recording booth, then sends Lee Know and I.N, the one with the coffee, over to talk with you. They somewhat awkwardly ask you to go over the pronunciation of the English lines they’ll be recording today; these two must be the ones least comfortable with English. Still, they do well. And as much as you hated that your mom landed you with this ‘job,’ you have to admit that this is actually a worthwhile way to spend your time. It is the kind of experience that would look good while applying for teaching jobs in the future. 

After a fair amount of practice, Lee Know heads to the recording booth, and I.N goes to join a couple of the other guys. You think Han is coming to talk to you, but he just flops over on the couch for a nap. So you’re back to just awkwardly sitting in a room full of dudes that are ignoring you. Great.

As the session goes on, you marvel at the way they work. They work so hard, recording and re-recording again and again until they’re satisfied. You do end up having conversations with most of them, mostly about their album and whichever of them was currently in the booth. Seeing their passion, you start to feel like they might not be as stuck up as you were thinking; they’re just focused and dedicated.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

You dip out after recording; your uncle asked you to come have an early lunch with him. By the time you return to Stray Kids, they’re in a large practice room. Once again, you’re sitting on a couch in the back of the room, just watching them interact, feeling like a piece of the furniture. 

When the music starts, you look up from your phone and… damn. They all can dance really well. Like it’s hard for you to pick out the main dancers at first. 

They’re all lip syncing or singing along quietly as they move through the steps, then Han starts full out singing. You thought most idols struggled to sing when they dance like this; that’s why they play their tracks during their concerts. He sounds phenomenal, though, nearly as good as he did in the recording booth. And he sets off the others, every other line someone sings it out loud, and once again they all do it so well. Maybe you know less about idols than you thought. 

When they finish Chan comes over with a cocky grin on his face. “What did you think?”

With dimples like that and that accent, you know he must be insufferable. Still, he hasn’t given you a reason to be rude. “It was super cool. I didn’t expect to enjoy watching you practice so much. You’re all such great dancers.”

You were too complimentary; you can tell by the way he puffs up. You see the two behind him smile and fistbump, and decide you don’t need to stick around for the douchiness to come out. “Anyway, I’m gonna head out, unless you guys will need me again?”

Chan nods, and with that you’re out the door.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

As the week goes on, you realize you shouldn’t have taken such a hard stance with your parents. They check in every evening, asking about how working with ‘those cute boys’ was and which one you think you might want to go out with so your mom can set it up with JYP. Every day you insist that you’re not at all interested in stuck up idols, and every day you feel like you’re lying more and more. 

You’ve had the opportunity to witness a lot while you’ve been with Stray Kids. They invite you to lunch and to watch practices in your off time, and you’re not going to pass up getting free meals and witnessing the beauty of their movement. With that, you’re around them when they’re not in work mode as well, seeing how kind and conscientious they are. They seem to truly care for the staff around them; they’re constantly doing things for each other and basically everyone else. They start opening up to you; you hear the way they talk about their fans, their families, their staff. And they’re very good to you, too - always treating you, making sure you’re comfortable and have anything you want/need. It turns out that they are truly the nicest guys; and if it’s not genuine, you don’t know what is. 

When you walk into the studio the next morning, you’re pulled into an unexpected hug. Felix gives you that big smile of his. “Good morning! I hope you don’t mind that we’re starting a little early today.” 

You return it readily. “Good morning! Honestly, it’s not too bad. I usually have early classes, so this feels normal.”

You go to sit on the couch and wait to find out exactly what you’ll need to do while you watch the present members. Felix is clearly the biggest morning person; he’s like a little flame, giving sparks to each member he speaks to, and you can see them brightening in his wake. After a few minutes, Chan comes in with Seungmin. He gives you a wave, but goes to sit by Changbin and immediately starts discussing their schedule for the session. Seungmin approaches you instead, handing you an iced latte - he got your order just right.

“Oh thank you, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course, we wanted to thank you for changing things up for us today.” His English accent is so cute, and he’s incredibly attentive. And you love talking with him most. “Channie Hyung asked me to give you the low-down.” 

Like the first day, Chan thought it would be nice to have you talk through pronunciations for Lee Know, I.N, Hyunjin, and Seungmin’s lines while the others are recording. You’re pretty sure that they could get this done without you easily, but you like having this time with them now. They’ve started relaxing a bit, working casual conversation into their time with you.

Even when you’re working with one of the other guys, Seungmin tends to sit with you, both double checking little things and helping you to direct them. His presence is comforting and welcome, often with his arm draped behind you over the back of the couch, occasionally brushing his hand against your shoulder or back.

By Friday, you feel like you have a much better understanding of the guys. You’ve seen their more serious sides and their sillier sides. And their flirty, kinda dirty sides. You’ve gotten glimpses of this over the course of last week, but it’s like the gloves came off today. It’s not even just flirting with each other. All day they all make sure to send quippy innuendos your way and make some kind of unnecessary physical contact with you, and you don’t hate it. You actually kind of love it. 

3Racha go to work in their smaller studio, while you head to a practice room with the rest, and things take a slightly spicier turn. After a few run-throughs of different aspects of the choreography, Lee Know turns to you. “Wanna try it out?”

You’re not much of a dancer, but you figure what the hell, no harm in trying. You try to follow his steps as he counts them out, and even though you’re doing pretty well, Lee Know directs Hyunjin to give you a little extra support. With Hyunjin close behind you, placing light touches on your hips, your arms, your shoulders, it gets harder to focus on what you’re doing. When you’ve gone through the steps, they compliment you on the way you move.

“You could be a little looser in the hips, though. It’ll help all the moves flow more smoothly.” Hyunjin gets behind you again, this time with his front pressed to your back, his hands landing firmly on your hips. He applies slight pressure to encourage you to follow along with the sway of his hips. You nearly shiver when he whispers into your ear, “I like the way your hips move with mine.”

You have a moment like that with each of them. You try not to let it get to your head, but with each touch and insinuation, you’re falling into fantasies with each of them. When they break the group up further for more individual practice, Lee Know takes your hand.

“Come to my practice room for a bit?” He lets go when you take a step after him, giving you a coy smile. When you get into the small room, he indicates that you should take a seat facing him. Then he’s kneeling in front of you so that you’re looking down into his beautiful, brown eyes for once. His hand rests on your knee for balance, rubbing his thumbs back and forth absently. You start to think about what it would be like if he leaned in and his hands moved up your legs… The thought cuts off when he speaks again, an interesting gleam in his eyes. “So I’ll sing once through, if you notice anything you can make a note. Then I’ll sing again and you can stop me when I make a mistake.”

You want nothing more than to sit and listen to him sing for hours on end. His voice is amazing. You grab the pad and pen from the table next to you. “Of course!”

For the next hour or so, Lee Know - Minho, he told you you could call him that - sings for you, and you sing his praises. It is incredible. His voice – he himself – is so beautiful. He very gracefully takes your critiques and works hard to get things perfect. 

The rest of the day is much the same, really just hanging out with the guys and watching them work, sometimes with all eight of them, other times in smaller groups. All of them continue to flirt, making you more and more interested in spending time with them outside of work hours. As you’re heading out for the day, Seungmin catches up with you.

“Would you wanna grab a coffee with me later?”

You try not to smile too big. “That’d be great. Just tell me when and where.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

When you get home, you’re already going over your plan to meet Seungmin at the cafe near his dorm. You’re so immersed in thoughts of him, you nearly run into your mom.

She asks the usual questions and you give the usual answers. 

“Honey, I really do think you should consider letting your uncle set you up with one of those boys. You say you’re not having fun at this internship, but your mood seems up. It might be good for you.”

You can’t believe she was right, but you’re not gonna let her know that. So you lie. “That doesn’t have anything to do with a bunch of idols. I met a girl who works in the cafeteria who’s cool, though. I’m actually meeting her at a cafe in a little bit.”

She’s happy that you’re making friends and leaves you to get ready. You throw on a top that tastefully shows off your cleavage paired with cute, comfy flowy shorts that could probably cover your ass a little better. You feel a little bad going behind her back, but your parents would be insufferable if they learned that you were interested in them. 

When you get to the cafe, Seungmin is waiting outside, two coffees in hand. Unfortunately, you can’t see his smile behind the mask, but he does look good despite it. 

“Hi, thanks! Were you wanting to sit outside?”

His ears look a little pink; you worry that he’s got bad news. “I actually was hoping you’d want to take a walk. Maybe to the dorm to hang out with the guys? It’s completely fine if you don’t.”

You think about it less than you should before agreeing. If you took a moment, you’d think it sounds like a set up for something more. Actually, you might still have agreed. 

He takes your hand and after a short walk you reach the Cuties Dorm, as they call it, but all of the other members are there. When you walk into the living room, you’re greeted by shouts from each of them and what’s become the usual hug from Felix, that literal ball of sunshine. This time his arms linger around you a bit longer as he tells you he’s happy you decided to come.

As you settle on the couch between Seungmin and Hyunjin; the former sits a little closer than necessary, leaning into you, while the latter throws his arm around your shoulders with his hand gently kneading into the nape of Seungmin’s neck. You revel in their closeness. You all hang out for a while together; they tell stories and ask you more about your life back in the states. Like earlier in the day, there’s more flirting and touching than usual, and they’re even less subtle about it. Also like before, you give as good as you get. 

At one point, Hyunjin makes what you think is a joke about how nice it is that you signed a broad NDA when you started at JYPE in case you decide to have “even more fun” with them. You laugh and agree, leaning into him a bit more. Seungmin’s hand lands on your thigh then, fingers lightly caressing your bare skin. You’re not entirely sure if this is going where you think it is, but between their hands and arms on your body and the looks the members shared at your agreement, you’re starting to wonder if it really was a joke. 

“I’m really glad we’re getting to know you more tonight.” Chan watches you, head tilted, contemplative, as he says it. “We’ve all been hoping to get closer to you. We just weren’t sure how open to it you would be.”

Seungmin slides his hand a tiny bit more toward the inside of your thigh and gives you a quick squeeze. You stare at Chan for a moment. He licks his lips, holding your eye contact. Well, fuck it; if I’m wrong, I’ll just refuse to go back to work, you think. “So to be clear… You all are hoping that I’m interested in hooking up?”

 Despite his boldness from just moments before, Chan starts turning into a tomato and looking down at his hands. Not one to mince words, Lee Know takes control of the situation. “Yes. Are you?”

“I mean…” You glance around the room, taking in the varying levels of hope, embarrassment, and desire on their faces. You rest one hand on Seungmin’s and the other on Hyunjin’s leg. “You don’t mean all at once, right? I think I’d need to work up to that.”

The room erupts in laughter and the tension dissipates. You all agree to just let things progress naturally, with the stipulations that they’re all going to actively pursue you now and that relationships won’t go beyond a friends with benefits situation. You assure them that you’re attracted to all of them, not that you felt pressured when Chan said ‘all.’ 

Luckily, once you’ve talked things out, things are as relaxed as before the conversation started. Soon, though, most of the guys announce that they’re leaving. 3Racha need to head back to the studio to work on a track they’d been talking about for the last half hour. Minho and I.N had plans to see a movie tonight, and Felix decides to tag along. On their way out, each of them gives you a hug. Chan’s is only a half hug, but his hand is definitely on your ass. You raise your eyebrows at him, and he just gives you a little squeeze and a pat before heading for the door. Changbin’s hug is so comforting that you wish you could just melt into him. Han is bold enough to kiss your cheek before saying goodbye with a wink. Seeing this, Felix immediately says that he wants a kiss, too. Rather than kissing your cheek like Han, however, his soft lips make contact with yours for just a second. You’re pretty sure your cheeks are on fire as I.N slips in right as Felix releases you. 

“Better make it a full set,” he says as he brushes a quick kiss on the side opposite of Han’s. Minho is last and to your surprise, he keeps his hands off your ass - you would’ve thought if anyone was going to grab it, it would’ve been the resident butt hunter. He does, however, whisper suggestively in your ear before he releases you. “I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

You turn to face the remaining two, the implication in Minho’s words making your head spin. You meet Hyunjin and Seungmin’s eyes in succession, unsure of what your next move should be.

“We’re going to watch a movie, if you wanna stay here with us for a while longer.” Seungmin’s voice is neutral, but you think you can see a touch of hunger in his eyes. “Otherwise, I’m happy to walk you home.”

Hyunjin bites his lip while he waits for your answer. It makes you wish you were the one biting it. “Yeah, a movie sounds nice.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

You make your way to the couch again with Hyunjin, and Seungmin heads to the kitchen to make popcorn and grab other snacks. The two of you sit facing each other, discussing preferred genres and favorite movies. You land on The Greatest Showman for tonight, and Hyunjin’s face lights up with passion as he talks about his favorite dance numbers in film. When Seungmin arrives with the snacks, Hyunjin surprises you by reaching over and pulling you halfway into his lap.

“Sorry,” he giggles, not looking even a little sorry. His hands are lingering on your hips, and you catch yourself looking at his lips again. “Just wanted to make sure Minnie had room to sit.”

“So considerate of you, Jinnie.” Seungmin deadpans as he sets the snacks and drinks on the coffee table. He sits beside you, partially on your cushion, and his hand lands on Hyunjin’s, still on your hip. Your breath hitches when you feel a slight squeeze. Hyunjin releases you then, and you turn to face the tv; they’re both so close to you, you feel your cheeks heating up. But then they’re acting normal again, like they have no clue that now all you can think about is being pressed between them with their hands and mouths exploring your body. You know you just confidently talked about hooking up with them, but you’re a little nervous now.

“I am considerate.” Hyunjin laughs and gestures at the screen. “You love this movie, right? We picked it just for you.”

For the next 20 minutes, it’s just like it was before ‘the talk.’ You're talking a little as you watch the movie. Seungmin has his arm around you this time, and after a few minutes Hyunjin rests his head on your shoulder and takes your hand; his thumb traces small circles on your skin. Seungmin moves so that his hand is on the nape of your neck now; when he presses in a bit with his fingers, you look over at him, and Hyunjin takes the opportunity to make a move. 

Seungmin is smiling as Hyunjin places a kiss just under your jaw and your mouth drops open with a sharp inhale. Hyunjin’s hand drops yours and moves to softly squeeze your thigh as he kisses you again. Seungmin tips your chin up so you look directly into his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so instead you nod and rest your hand on his thigh. He smiles widely and leans in to press his lips to yours. He tries to pull back, but you immediately pull him back, tilting your head for a deeper kiss. Hyunjin continues to leave a trail of kisses on your neck and his hand shifts up to your waist, creeping up slowly. At once, he gives you a gentle bite and his hand cups your breast. You break your kiss with Seungmin with a small gasp. As soon as you turn to face him, Hyunjin captures your lips, his tongue tangling with yours. Seungmin takes over for him on the other side of your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. Both their hands roam across your body. They’ve barely begun - you hope - but you’re already feeling a little overwhelmed and unsure what to do with your hands.

It’s like Hyunjin reads your mind. He sits back grinning at you with pink, pouty lips shining. Seungmin turns toward you, and throws his arms around your waist to pull you into his lap, turning you to face away from him and keeping his arms wrapped around your middle and resting his chin on your shoulder. Hyunjin finds your hands and asks, “This isn’t too much, is it?”

You bite your lip as you consider how to answer. He’s so beautiful; it’s hard to think of anything besides kissing him again. “It’s kind of a lot… But I don’t want to stop.”

Seungmin begins kissing your neck again, both hands cupping and caressing your breasts.  Hyunjin’s smile widens as he scoots as close to Seungmin as possible, gently moving your legs so they drape over his lap. One hand starts kneading the inside of one of your thighs. He leans in, his other hand comes up - you thought it was going to your face, but he reaches past you to stop Seungmin’s progress on your neck. You feel yourself being pushed forward slightly, feel his obviously hardening cock on your back, as you watch Seungmin bring his face up to meet Hyunjin’s. The second their lips touch, your jaw drops a bit.

When this began, you somehow never even thought about this being a possibility. With how comfortable they are flirting with and touching each other, you feel a little silly for not considering it already. It’s quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. They’re so beautiful together. You catch a glimpse of Hyunjin’s tongue slipping into Seungmin’s mouth at the same time that his hand makes contact with your center, fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles. You spread your legs a bit to give him easier access, wishing there weren’t two layers of fabric blocking his path. As you move, Seungmin’s hand comes down to hook your outside leg over his, spreading you further. Lips still locked on Hyunjin’s, his hands slide inside your shirt and around to your back; once your bra is unclasped, his hands come back around and under it, pinching and twisting your nipples. 

A small moan escapes your lips and brings Hyunjins attention back to you. Both of their mouths are on you again, and Hyunjin slips his fingers into your panties. You feel like you’re on fire. You simultaneously reach in front of and behind you, wrapping each hand around equally impressive lengths. As you stroke them through their shorts, you elicit two moans in harmony. 

Hyunjin pulls back. “As much as I like this couch, I wonder if we should move somewhere a bit more comfortable, Minnie?”

One of Seungmin’s hands drops down to your waist, the other continues to tease you. “That is an excellent idea, Jinnie. Are you alright with that?”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you now. They move in unison. When one speaks, the other kisses, their hands never stop touching, caressing, taking you closer to what is sure to just be your first climax of many tonight. You nod and capture Seungmin’s lips.

Hyunjin giggles and presses a kiss to your cheek. “I know you said this was a lot, so I think we’d prefer a verbal answer.” He pulls at your shirt. “Cause if we move locations, things are definitely going to heat up.”

“I want that.” You nearly gasp. “Please, let’s go. Wherever.”

Hyunjin stands, pulling you up with him. “Seungmin-ah, why don’t you take our gorgeous friend here to your room while I go get a few things.”

“Yes, sir.” Seungmin smiles and salutes before throwing you over his shoulder with a quick slap on your ass. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

Seungmin proceeds to his room, not flinching at the slaps you’ve landed on his cute, little ass in complaint. In no time at all, he’s dropping you onto your back, and before you can even catch your breath, he’s on you. His tongue clashes with yours, one hand grips your hip tightly while the other grips your face and neck with his thumb pressed under your chin. He’s a bit more… forceful than you expected. It’s exciting. You bite his lower lip. 

He smiles against your lips. He brings his hand to the hem of your shirt and starts pulling it up. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You let him pull your top off and discard your bra. You pull his shirt up as well, ready to see more of him. For a brief moment, you wonder if you should be waiting for Hyunjin, but as soon as his shirt clears his head, he’s on you again - this time bringing his mouth to one nipple to suck, lick, and bite gently. One of his hands slides down into your panties; his fingers thrust into you a few times before spreading your wetness up to your clit. You arch into him with a moan. 

Seungmin starts kissing his way down your body. You whimper when he retracts his hand to pull your shorts and underwear off in one smooth motion. He pauses then to look down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re naked in the bed of a man you met less than a week ago. With another on his way to join you. You wonder if you think you make terrible or excellent decisions. You sit up and tug on the waistband of his shorts, and when he slides them off, you lean more toward excellent. He doesn’t give you the chance to touch his nice, thick cock; when you reach for it, he puts a hand on your chest, pushing you onto your back. He settles down between your legs. He kisses a trail from your right knee down your thigh, nipping at you in a few places. When he starts back at the top of your other knee, you let out a whiny “Minnie…”

“So impatient.” He smiles up at you. He doesn’t stop his teasing, but at your small groan, he splays his hand over your stomach, thumb landing on your clit. His lazy circles barely take the edge off. 

“Seungmin, please.” 

He chuckles, but takes pity on you. He gives you a long lick, sucking when he reaches your clit. Your back arches off the bed, and you squeeze your eyes closed with a moan. You’re so preoccupied that you miss the door opening and shutting, only realizing Hyunjin’s in the room when he kisses your forehead. 

“Is my puppy making you feel good? He’s great with his tongue.” Hyunjin giggles when Seungmin sits back, mouth and chin glistening, to ‘mong mong’ at him. 

You reach up for Hyunjin, but he’s already moving closer to Seungmin. He runs his hand down your body, easily sliding three fingers into you while simultaneously leaning over to lick the Seungmin’s lips clean. It is… beyond hot. 

“You taste good,” Hyunjin turns back to you, his fingers pumping in and out, keeping you panting and needy. “And you’re so wet for us, baby. Minnie, I think you should finish what you started so I can have a turn.”

You almost tell him that he can just take his turn now, but Seungmin dives in immediately with renewed vigor. Every swipe of his tongue brings you closer and closer to the edge. You expect Hyunjin to kiss or touch you in some way, but when you can control your trembling body enough to look down at Seungmin, you see that Hyunjin is just behind him. You watch both of Seungmin’s hands reach up to tweak your nipples and realize that Hyunjin has reached under his arm, and his fingers are the ones expertly curling against your g-spot. They’re so in sync. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as Hyunjin switches hands, so he can stroke Seungmin’s cock using your wetness to smooth his glide. The sight tips you over the edge. Your eyes roll back in your head as you curl in on yourself with a moan. Seungmin keeps up a steady pace allowing you to ride out your orgasm. He disengages with a moan of his own as you come down. 

“That’s a good girl,” Hyunjin purrs. He grips Seungmin by the hair to tip his head back and kiss him passionately before turning back to you to say, “and a good boy. Don’t you think so?”

You let out a sigh and sit up. Your gaze immediately begins tracking the movement of Hyunjin’s hand again. You suck your lower lip between your teeth with a soft groan. At Seungmin’s soft “fuck,” you bring your hand over to rub lazy circles over your clit. Suddenly, Hyunjin draws his hand back. Seungmin whines and your eyes snap up to Hyunjin’s.

“Well, Minnie, if she doesn’t think you did a good job, I’m not sure you should get a reward.” He says it with a devious smile on his face. When Seungmin huffs and turns to try to bite his neck, Hyunjin catches his chin and crashes his lips back to Seungmin’s.

“No, no!” You say a little too loudly, scrambling toward them. “He did such a good job! He was amazing. You were amazing, Minnie.”

Hyunjin giggles and drags Seungmin’s face toward yours. His tongue slides against yours, and your hand picks up where Hyunjin’s left off. One of his hands is back on your chest, the other sliding through your folds again. Hyunjin laughs again, gently pushing both your shoulders to separate you. “Oh well if he was that good, he deserves more than this. Lay on the bed, pup.”

Seungmin pouts a little, squinting his eyes at him as he stands. “Hyunie, I know you like taking charge, but it feels like there’s a little too big of a power imbalance here.”

Hyunjin laughs, pulling his shirt over his head and pushing his shorts to the ground. Like Seungmin, his body is nicely toned, not overly muscular. Beautiful. “Better?”

“Almost.” Seungmin tucks a finger into the waistband of briefs, pulling Hyunjin closer to him. The smile on his face is devastating. “And I think I’ll choose my own reward. Lose these and you sit on the bed.”

Hyunjin presses a quick kiss to Seungmin’s jaw. Then he licks his lips and turns to you. “Help me out?”

You’re enjoying watching them so much, you nearly forgot you’re part of this as well. You free him of his briefs and watch his half-hard cock bounce as he moves to sit with his back against the headboard. Seungmin’s watching as well, his head cocked to the side. He moves behind you, hands resting on your waist. You get a chill when you feel his breath on your neck. He whispers, “I’m going to put on a condom now. While I do, you should get on your knees between Jinnie’s pretty dancer’s legs, ass up and ready for me.”

The second his hands leave you, you’re crawling up to take Hyunjin’s pretty cock into your mouth. Another time you might have teased him, but you’re so hot for him, for them, that you want to get him on your level as soon as possible. You bob your head, tongue swirling around his tip when you come up. With each pass, he stiffens and grows - you soon have to work to fit him in your mouth. You relax your throat and take him further, wrapping a hand around his base, the other resting on his hip. 

“Mmmm,” Hyunjin rumbles, tangling his fingers into your hair with a smile. “Minnie, is this a reward for me or for you?”

You feel Seungmin bring himself into position behind you. He grabs your hips, adjusting them so that you’re just where he wants you. You can hear the smile in his voice as he plunges a couple fingers into you. “I always want to reward you, baby, but I feel like the real winner is between us.”

He lands a playful slap on your ass and you hum in agreement, causing Hyunjin’s grip in your hair to tighten as he lets loose a low groan. You hum again, then pull off with a pop. You grin up at him as you feel Seungmin tap the fat head of his cock against your ass. You tape Hyunjin’s tip into your mouth and suck hard as you continue to pump your fist around his shaft. You feel the pressure of Seungmin pushing into you, his hands grip your hips tightly. He goes slowly, sinking inch by inch filling you up. The pressure feels fantastic. You moan, giving Hyunjin a slight squeeze. Both men jerk their hips in tandem. You pull off Hyunjin with a gag, panting, pushing back against Seungmin as he keeps up steady thrusts.

Hyunjin takes your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “I’m sorry, baby. It felt so good; I couldn’t keep still. If you can’t keep going, I can wait my turn.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m - ahh - I’m okay. Just wasn’t ready.” You press your face into his thigh with another shaky moan. 

Hyunjin laughs. “Seungminnie, are you happy where you are or should we flip her?”

“No,” you pant. “I wanna… I wanna finish.”

Seungmin is hitting you in just the right spot. Each rock of his hips sends you closer to your peak. Hyunjin laughs again. It turns into another groan as you wrap your lips back around his head and suck hard. “Fuck me.”

“I can do that next, if you want, but I might need a breather.” Seungmin grunts out as he increases his pace. His grip on your hips tightens, you’re likely going to end up with bruises. You increase your pace in turn, and Hyunjin’s moans become more frequent. It’s hard to maintain, though. You pull off of Hyunjin with a gasping moan, burying your face in his thigh again. 

“I’ve got this, baby.” Hyunjin takes over for you, jerking himself in tempo with Seungmin’s thrusts, his gaze locked on the snap of Seungmin’s hips. He lets out a drawn out groan. “You’re taking Minnie so well. You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now. Fuck, Min, I think I could come just by watching you; I’m already so close.”

Hyunjin’s other hand is stroking your hair and you look up at him, mouth hanging open barely able to do much more than pant and moan. The tide is rising in you, threatening to wipe you out. 

As he lets go of one of your hips, you feel Seungmin lean against your back. and Hyunjin is leaning forward to meet him. You can barely see their kiss, but you feel how it’s interrupted Seungmin’s rhythm and let out a whimper. His hand drops from Hyunjin’s face into your hair. He pulls it a little less than gently. The new angle allows you a better view of Hyunjin working himself and biting his lip. The space created gives Hyunjin room to take hold of one of your breasts, pinching and pulling, bringing you right back to the edge.  

Seungmin slides his other hand between your legs, and your body starts to convulse. You can’t control any of the sounds coming out of your mouth - a mix of their names, moans, curses. Your climax overwhelms you. As you shake and move with each slam of Seungmin’s hips, but barely hear Hyunjin’s “fuck” as thick spirts of cum land on your chest and face. It spurs you on; you do your best to stick out your tongue, to catch as much as you can. 

Another “fuck” sounds as you feel Seungmin’s hips stutter to a stop. His grip on your hair loosens, and you barely manage to keep yourself from face planting into Hyunjin’s lap. Your body is nearly spent, finally coming down from what may have been the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

Seungmin pulls out and flops down on his side next to you, breathing heavily with a relaxed smile on his face. “You look so pretty with Jinnie all over you.”

He rolls over to grab wet wipes while Hyunjin encourages you to flip over and sit up. After Seungmin cleans you both up, Hyunjin pulls you back to lean against him. You stay like that for a few moments, before dressing and snuggling back up on the couch to watch the rest of the movie. When it’s over, you and Seungmin walk hand in hand out of the dorm, passing Minho and Jeongin on their way in. Minho shoots you a wink and a look that makes you feel like he’s telling you that he’s next… and you can’t wait.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆｡✧･ﾟ

Part II Here