#and also it's bad for your eyesight to wear two pairs of glasses at the same time

[shiraishi-kanade]

I hear you Kanade has albinism and I raise you:

She wears photochromic glasses.

Which are basically glasses that function like normal prescription glasses but change color when exposed to UV (so, sunlight), functioning like sunglasses and prescription glasses at the same time.

Because albino people also often have bad eyesight!

I think she kinda... Didn't notice her vision failing or didn't think it mattered before N25, since she only really needed to see her computer, but even since she started going out more and more with N25 it started bothering her more and more along with sunlight... So Mizuki put two and two together and it clicked. They also helped Kanade pick out the frame that would look nice on her.

(because with how Kanade is she would have just plopped sunglasses on top of her prescription glasses, which is an absolutely atrocious style choice that Mizuki would not allow to happen!)

miscellaneous PJSK headcanons

Ena and Akito are adoptive siblings. Akito was adopted into the Shinonome family when they were toddlers

Nene had selective mutism when she was younger. she was only able to freely speak to her family, Rui and his parents. she overcame it throughout the years with therapy, but still occassionally has days where it's really difficult for her to talk

Kanade has albinism, which is partially why she doesn't like going outside, she's conscious that she sunburns easily

pretty much contradicted by their canon younger depictions, but the lighter blue in Toya and An's hair, pink in Saki's and Rui's turquoise streaks are all dyed

Rui can't do mental maths beyond the very simple. yes, he is really good at complicated maths, but he can only do the calculations if he can write it all out, he isn't able to keep track of all the numbers in his head (they get lost within all his ideas.) he is still shockingly quick about it, though

Shizuku is on very friendly terms with the librarian at her local library, who lets her sit in a room at the back that the rest of the public isn't able to access, so Shizuku isn't bothered by fans when she's trying to read in peace and quiet

Ena has been offered modelling jobs from companies that have seen her social media pictures but she's turned them down because she quite literally just couldn't be bothered

An and Akito did each other's piercings past midnight in An's bathroom during middle school. it involved a lot of swearing and smacking each other's hands away and hurt and risk of infection but they don't regret it

when they were very small children, Tsukasa would put Saki and Toya to sleep by reading stories to them. it was one of the rare times his parents would hear him speak so quietly

Rui is coulrophobic. yes, people regularly point out the irony of his outfits resembling those of clowns' but it's really the ones with heavy face paint that creep him out. part of the reason he knows so many secret ways of getting around PXL is because he needs to avoid seeing all of the ones performing there when he's walking around

[m3talmunson]

Eddie didn't really mind pointing things out to Steve, things that the other boy easily missed. He did mind the fact that Steve wouldn't admit he didn't see them though.

Eddie would point out an upcoming speedbump when Steve seemingly wasn't slowing down, and Steve would swear up and down that he was getting there, that he knew. Eddie would point out a tape that had fallen to the ground at family video, and Steve would parrot back the same "I know, I know!" like he wasn't just about to step on it. Eddie would point to a cabinet of the kitchenette in his trailer, asking Steve to grab something from it, and just watch as Steve reached for the wrong cabinet before saying "your other left" like nothing happened. But he wouldn't get complacent.

He couldn't bare the thought of 'what if Steve misses something on the road' or 'what if he trips and gets one too many blows to the head' and god forbid 'how could he ever navigate the upside down if it reopens'.

Eddie was going to make sure Steve got glasses, hell, even those new extended-wear contacts that he knew Steve could afford. Eddie was going to make Steve see, if not for Steve, then for his own sake.

Steve wasn't necessarily thrilled with the concept. He was at work when

"What if I look dinky with glasses? I feel like they'd throw off my charm." Steve said, doing his best to keep a joking tone.

"What if your eyesight keeps getting worse and you can't see what you look at all, dinky or not?" Eddie retorted back, playing the trump card, "Look, I'll even go with you to pick them out if you want. Get a pair of 20/20 eyes to help out."

"Would you really go with me? Robin's been pestering me for ages but I've never actually committed to even getting my eyes looked at."

"'Course I would Stevie, there's no way I'm letting you see anyone else face before mine. Gotta be the first." He joked, giving a bow, "How's next Thursday sound? You have no work, I have no plans."

"Aw you know my work schedule, how sweet." Steve replied sarcastically, "Yeah, next Thursday works."

And then, the next customer came in, and Eddie wandered off to pretend he actually came in for a tape.

When Steve came out of the optometrist's room, he seemed pretty dejected.

"Severe hyperopic astigmatism in both eyes, just like my dad."

"It runs in the family? And you still never got glasses?"

"Oh it gets better." Steve chose to ignore the question, "They've never seen it this bad in someone so young unless they had severe head trauma."

"Steve, you have had severe head trauma-"

"What they don't know won't kill them, hopefully. You wanna explain the Upside Down?"

"Got me there, Stevie."

"Anyways, they say the prescription is fairly common, so depending on the pair I pick I could walk out with them today, if they have the lenses." Steve walked to the front of the shop, looking at the wall of glasses, hunting down any wire-rimmed pairs, the ones the doctor said would most likely have lenses in his script.

"So what are we looking for?" Eddie asked.

"Anything other than circles. That's what my dad wore. Or, wears. I don't really know. Oh, and also wire framed, the doctor said those were more likely to have these lenses." Steve waved the paper the doctor had given him with his prescription as he squinted at the display.

"Let's get to work then!"

Luckily for Steve, he could make out the thumbs up or thumbs down Eddie would give him when he tried on a pair. He sat down with one of the hand-held mirrors and his pick of five frames. He held the mirror as far as possible so he could see them, even getting Eddie to hold it when he was narrowing down the final two, squinting at himself, picking apart his reflection in the mirror. Just when Eddie was about to tell Steve which pair was his favorite, he got cut off.

"Can I help you two?" The attendant in the room finally asked, making Steve jump a little.

"Uhm, no, thank you! Just trying to narrow down which pair to buy."

"Let me see your script and the glasses, I'll look at the tag and see if we have those lenses in." She said, pulling out a little clipboard with a list of the common scripts, those with none left crossed-out.

She stared at it for a moment, adjusting her own glasses in the process.

"Looks like we have the lenses for only one of these, my dear. Of course, you can still get the others! You'll just have about a week's wait until we have those lenses."

"Which pair has the lenses in stock?" Steve asked.

The lady passed him the navy blue square framed pair with the nice and neat rounded corners. Eddie's favorite out of the two.

"Hmm. If I get this pair, I can walk out today with them right?"

"Yes! If you get this pair I can have them done in about 20 minutes, just need to pop the right lenses in and tighten some screws."

"I'll take this pair then, thank you!" Steve said, following the rest of her instructions to go ahead and pay for them while she rifles through the drawers for the farsighted lenses, finding his exact prescription.

"Lucky boy, got the last pair of these lenses in stock!"

"Lucky Stevie!" Eddie nudged Steve.

"Yeah, lucky me." He smiled.

Still though, Steve let his mind wander wild as he waited for the little old lady to finish his glasses.

"What if they really do look silly?"

"Steve you're not gonna look silly. I promise you looked amazing in the display pair." Eddie did his best to sound reassuring.

"Amazing? Like. How much on a scale of 1-10?" Steve regained his flirty nature.

"Like, an eleven, Stevie." Eddie looked away, not willing to let Steve see the blush rise to his cheeks.

"11/10? He does have a nice bone in his body." Steve teased, before the lady called Steve up to the counter with a mirror and his case, his glasses in her hand. Eddie followed in tow.

"It might take a minute, to adjust. Try to look around, read the liscense plates in the parking lot, or something like that." She held her open hand out to Steve and he picked up the glasses, closing his eyes before sliding them on.

And then he opened his eyes. He saw the detail on the counter, not a blank flat color but a salt-and-pepper spattering of greys and blacks. He read the lady's name tag, Caroline's name tag, before realizing that he didn't know her name until then. He looked at his hands, seeing detail that he had never seen before, saw the littler moles that peppered his arms.

He saw Eddie, saw that little smirk he wore in all of it's detail, saw the long eyelashes that framed his eyes, saw the crinkle in his nose.

"Oh my god-" Steve said, his hands dropping to his side, "The world is so much more beautiful than I remembered." He stared for a second longer at Eddie's eyes, the dark brown glowing a little in the setting sun through the windows.

"Thank you, so much for all your help," Steve told the lady -Caroline, he knew her name now- as he grabbed his case, not stopping to look at himself but striding out the door, to look at the detail of the sidewalk, see the little scratch on his beamer that he had never been more excited to see. He turned around to look at Eddie again, see the pride in his eyes.

"Let's get you home, shall we? Since you can, y'know, see this time."

"Let's."

He drove Eddie home, pointed out every new thing he could see, and stepped out of his car to walk Eddie to his door.

Eddie stopped before the stairs to his trailer.

"So, Stevie, did you have a good day?"

"I feel like the world is so much brighter now." Steve said, his eyes flicking to every movement in Eddie's face at that response. His eyes settled on the strand of hair that fell as Eddie shook his head.

"Feel like it's so much softer too." Steve pushed the hair back behind Eddie's ear as he talked, letting his hand linger just a second.

"Weirdly, enough, me too." Eddie pressed his hand against Steve's.

The sun was setting, nobody was out in the trailer park, and in the June heat of Indiana, no windows were cracked either. Behind the privacy of Eddie's van, parked to the left of where Steve's car was sitting, Steve couldn't help himself.

"Eddie, today was wonderful, even when I was slightly panicking. Thank you for being there, you have no idea what it means."

"I think I might." Eddie noticed Steve staring at his lips, and, hopefully not misinterpreting a sign, finally asked, "Steve, can I kis-"

"Please." Steve cut him off, before giving Eddie the kiss he so desperately had wanted since the moment he saw his face that afternoon. Steve was so glad Eddie's was the first face he saw.

~~~~~

baby's first tag list!

@henderdads

thank you for having faith in my work! still learning about tumblr and I thought I could tag people in the comments of my last post, but this is a side blog, so I can't :( anyways now I'm officially building a tag list 💪🏻

[c0pper0tter]

Currently hyperfixated on the girlies Gambit and Rogue so have a page of digital drawings I made of them recently

Also to be extra annoying since everyone online is being mad about x men being 'woke' here are my headcanons about these lovely two individuals

First of all they are literally just this meme and yes I will be drawing it with them some day

Gambit and Rogue are t4t I make the laws here

Gambit is also the definition of bisexuality (look at what he's wearing people come on) and Rogue just gives me the vibes she doesn't have a label for her sexuality, she just vibes and is definitively not straight

They both are also autistic cause again, I make the rules

Rogues stims by humming, rocking, and mouth clicks while Gambits main stims are hand stims like flapping or hitting his wrists along with rocking and hopping

I like to think Gambit wears big chunky sound proof headphones anytime he can cause 1 autism and 2 his power is to make things explode so he's gotta have something to protect his hearing from the explosions, on missions he has special made tiny ones that aren't so big and bulky

He is getting slight hearing loss though from before he started wearing protection

I like to think Rogue also has bad eyesight cause same bro and she wears contacts, she refuses to wear glasses but Remy thinks she looks cute with them

She does have a pair of red glasses for when she can't wear contacts

They both love physical affection but only with eachother, Rogue has been touch starved due to her powers and Remy tends to be touch averse due to trust issues but clings to those he trusts I think so both of them only engage in affection with people they're really close with, so they're constantly cuddling and just holding eachothers hand whenever their next to eachother

Neither of them really give a shit about gender roles so they both are always stealing eachothers clothes

Rogue: Remy, have you seen my green tube dress?

Gambit: *walks out wearing said dress* .......it makes me feel pretty :)

Rogue: .......well now I'm pissed that you look better in it than I do

Gambit: :/

Both also have I guess you'd call them 'girls nights' where they watch shitty movies put on face masks and talk shit about the other x men, like spill the tea babe what's the latest drama, sometimes nightcrawler joins them but he usually just sits there awkwardly like 'what's going on, am I third wheeling?'

Rogue and Nightcrawler are the bestest of siblings btw, they love eachother so much and whenever they annoy the other there's a running gag of one of them shouting 'I'm telling mom!' and the other shouting back 'which one cause good luck they both ain't gonna do shit!'

Siblings man

I like to imagine Nightcrawler and Gambit don't really know what to make of eachother at first, they both try to joke with the other and get along but it always ends up awkward on one end cause their trying a little too hard and don't know what to do lol

Rogue laughs at them when they complain about it to her

Eventually, after a way too long era of awkwardness, they become decent bros

Rogue and Gambit are that couple who threaten to kill eachother on the daily and say the worst shit to eachother but the second you insult one of them the other will be at your throat with a knife and a promise it'll end up in you somehow

They also both make fun of eachothers accents constantly

I really don't care if none of this is comic book accurate I'm making my own interpretation of the characters and having fun

[jellyfishsthings]

Ok, first of all, I would like to apologise for not posting something for almost a month, bit it was exam season so... and I know I let you my fans down *que laughing bcuz it's not true*. Secondly, I would like to say that this is a bit different, it's not smut but I think it is quite funny and represents my character a little bit... also mean!Remus cuz he rules... so enjoy ig!!!

Part 2 , Part 3

I woke up, gasping for air, sweat making my shirt cling to my body like a second skin. I must look downright crazy, with flushed cheeks, hair a wild mess, and rubbing my thighs together without a stop. My mind drifted back to the dream that caused the state of my reaction.

His hands were roaming my body like I was the only thing he had ever wanted. And finally gripping my hips and making them move backwards until they hit his, and he was balls deep inside of me. Again. And again. And again.

The dream itself wasn't the problem. Sure, a sex dream wasn't that bad, and she had several over the years, but what she moaned and who was supposedly giving her all that pleasure was. Remus.

How? How had this happened to her? Not him. Not the one boy she never got along with. Not the one person who drove her up against the wall. Not the one that-

No, it actually made perfect sense. He was the only one who made her feel something. Sure, said "something" was regularly negative feelings. Like irritation, deep-rooted hate. But it certainly was more than anyone has ever made her feel. She looked at her alarm clock. And… great, only fifteen more minutes before it was time to get ready for breakfast. How was she supposed to pull herself together after that? It was going to be a long day.

She dressed in her uniform, only leaving her blue-silver striped tie, loosely knotted around her neck, her top two buttons open, exposing her collarbones. Her trousers, replacing the usual skirt, hugged her waist and hips nicely. Thank God, if there is one, but she had single-handedly managed to convince the professors in the monthly Perfects meeting, that the female population of this school, formal and fancy vocabulary had definitely been a strong part of her remarks, should be allowed to wear trousers whenever they wanted and felt like it.

She walked towards the Ravenclaw table and quickly filled her plate with pancakes doused in chocolate because well… who doesn't love chocolate? Her eyes roamed the blurry Dining Hall. Man, she really should start using her wire-framed glasses, the ones that were an identical pair to his. They had bought them so as to match when they were still friends. Before he ruined everything.

There he was. The beautiful, arrogant blurry bastard. She would recognise his curly hair and mischievous dark green eyes paired with his scarred face glory. Damn him and his annoying good looks. And when the hell did her eyesight get that bad? Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, which was again his fault. She could proudly say, though, that she was still squinting and glaring at the world as she always did. And everything was right. Until…

"My God, you are so tight. And so perfectly marked up. Everyone should know who you belong to, don't you think?" He said as his hand travelled upwards, one of her thighs. Moving easily as all her previous orgasms slid down her legs. All courtesy of his mouth, of course. "I love seeing you like this. I never thought that fucking your brains out until you are senseless would be such an easy way to shut you up."

… she remembered that and choked on her treacherous hot chocolate.

"Well, well, the she-devil just choked on her hot chocolate? Is it because your body detests anything sweet? " his voice called out. That deep, still slightly raspy and sleepy voice that made his Welsh accent stand out more prominently. She hated that voice, she thought, yet her body betrayed her and shivered, as if it was somehow remembering all that fantastic, imaginary, things it supposedly whispered in her skin.

Oohs and aahs echoed in the room, accompanied by chuckles and whispers, praising his "sick burn."

"You know what, Lupin? I always thought you were a pretentious piece of shit, but I never thought you were so self-centered to actually call yourself indirectly sweet. Is it one of those days of the month where you need a little confidence boost?", I called back as I finished eating and stood up from my seat.

A fuming Remus was the last thing I saw as I exited the room. Now, every member of the school faculty was laughing because of my comeback.

Lost in thought I walked towards the Ravenclaw Tower, and then felt an arm grasping my wrist and pining me into the wall, despite driving my elbow into said attacker in his nose, stomach (were those abs? Who was she kidding of course her attacker would have abs) and well … dick. But they didn't react at all as if those blows, who should have winded the air out of someone. Except- right lycanthropy super strength bullshit.

"You think that was funny?" He said in a deathly quiet tone, as if he wanted to murder me on the spot… or fuck me against the wall? Okay, now she was just self projecting.

"I think it was hilarious."

"Sometime you are going to learn to respect me, foxy?"

"Sure, when Hell freezes over."

"You know, you remind me of those foxes and black cats. They consider themselves so smart and mean, yet they are unaware of the danger they will face because of it. "

"And you are the danger? Climb off your high horse Lupin." I whisper in his face. Our lips only mere centimeters apart.

words: 900 (should I continue this?)

[azaliyas]

summary : you wear glasses, but you're also very clumsy, so it's up to them to make sure you don't break them and keep them clean. not always they succeed, tho.

word count : [ to be added later ]

genre : crack, fluff.

cw / tw : clumsy reader.

characters : albedo, alhaitham, ayato, tighnari, zhongli.

albedo

since he has a sharp eyesight he wouldn't understand your problems at first, and wouldn't even understand how you can possibly knock them around or forget them — doesn't your blurry eyesight suggest you you aren't wearing your glasses?

or how you can forget to clean them — they're so full of dust and fallen eyelashes it's a miracle you're still able to see. really.

then again, the more time he spends with you, the more he gets accustomed with your forgetfulness, taking it upon himself to help you.

it wouldn't come as a surprise then that you start waking up with sticky notes on your shiny glasses (he took it upon himself to clean them every morning), reminding you to put them on first thing in the morning after washing your face. actually, you'd find them in the bathroom than on your nightstand, perfectly fitting into your glasses holder. no more excuses.

if you two are together he will keep a close eye on you, making sure your movements won't knock your glasses over and damage / break them.

if, by any chance, not even his presence will be enough to save your glasses, he will offer you his guidance and will be your eyes for the time being till your glasses get repaired or you get a new pair.

probably will scold you a bit, but overall he can't be really mad at you. your bad eyesight is already enough of a punishment together with your clumsiness.

«it's fascinating how you can be so careless about such an important feature. can it be that you desire my assistance that much?»

you would lightly hit him on his forehead with your glasses holder.

alhaitham

like albedo, he has sharp eyesight, so he can't relate to your problems at all. in all honesty, he finds having to wear glasses quite troublesome, and looking at you and your struggles confirms his thoughts even more.

he's quite intrigued by how you always manage to forget them, or how you're able to see despite their not-so-clean state. maybe you're just used to it, he thinks.

he also finds amusing your struggling when you forget them, and so being unable to read properly or distinguish faces from afar. you squinting your eyes is a sight that can put a small smile on his usual stoic face.

we could also say that, maybe, he sometimes won't remind you to wear your glasses if you didn't notice it at first, so you will have to rely on him to read something or help you in any other way (read as: so you're gonna stick by his side all day long.)

when, for the nth time, you break your glasses, he can only sigh in defeat. seriously, are you going to waste all your savings by buying / repairing your glasses?

for this, maybe he will think to suggest you to wear contacts, but trashes the idea right away — only the archons know what will happen if you try on them.

«third pair knocked out this month. why am i not surprised?»

you shot him your deadliest glare, yet he doesn't flinch, showing you that stupid smirk you wanna wipe off his face maybe with a kiss.

kamisato ayato

let's be honest, he would find your problems quite amusing, an innocent and cute distraction from his working duties.

this doesn't mean he's not concerned, but really, your face trying to read without your glasses is too much of a sight to not chuckle at it.

even if you forget them, he would probably dispatch someone to go get them for you, and you would receive them all clean and shiny.

sometimes, when in need of some entertainment, he would probably take them away from you, hiding them somewhere or keeping them in his hold away from yours, probably above his head.

you trying to jump up to snatch your glasses from him has him chuckling right in your face, your efforts clearly a waste of time. do you really think you can win?

maybe, after some pretty pleases (and a few kisses) he will give you your glasses back, only for him to see you sticking out your tongue at him.

«you look like a little bunny jumping like that» he would chuckle.

you jumping on his feet has him changing his mind.

tighnari

he's usually very patience, after all not kicking every fool who doesn't keep in mind the guide to dangerous mushrooms surely is a great patience test.

since it's not entirely your fault you're so clumsy and careless he can't exactly get mad at you, but that doesn't mean you won't hear him sighing and see him pinching his nose bridge whenever he sees your glasses have been damaged again.

it became a sort of habit for you two this exact scenario: you come back home with your glasses broken or damaged, he sighs while taking them from your hands to repair them.

that is because you can't go often to sumeru city, and the trip is a long one, so you usually would repair your glasses till their so ruined it would be pointless.

at that point you would throw them and pick up a new pair you have in stock, an idea tighnari gave you as to not have you unable to fulfill your duties. you're still a forest ranger after all.

since you're a forest ranger you can't exactly avoid going around, it's part of your job after all, but if possible he would go patrolling with you. four eyes are better than two anyway.

he would probably gift you a cord for your glasses, so even if they fall off from your nose they won't meet the ground, since that's how most of the times your glasses get damaged.

«i wish our medicine or technology was more advanced just to give you a definitive cure for your bad eyesight. your savings would praise me, you lummox.»

you nod, that's your dream too.

zhongli

this man right here is always ready for everything, so you wouldn't have to worry much. indeed, that's his job.

really, he's more concerned about your incidents than you are — maybe because you're used to it, after all.

he would try to help you keep them intact as long as possible, in any way he can think about: stopping you from doing harsh or sudden movements, gesturing way too aggressively with your hands, pulling you back if you risk to hit against something with your face.

like tighnari, he would gift you an eyewear cord to attach your glasses to, so even if you manage to knock them down they won't actually fall. and that would actually save them a lot of times. your wallet thanks him.

for the cleaning part, he would surely always have a cloth in his pocket for you, so you wouldn't risk to ruin them with a non proper cloth.

he would also push them back up your nose if they slide down, using that as an excuse to caress your face. and you would blush, admit it.

like albedo, he would probably clean them for you every morning, and every night too right before going to bed.

if you two wake up together he will remind you to put them immediately. otherwise, he will grab them and leave them on your kitchen table, beside the breakfast he cooked for you.

«don't forget your glasses, love. we don't want a mole wandering the streets of liyue harbor, do we?»

you pull his cheeks for calling you a mole. you are but that's not the point.

© azaliyas 2023 do not copy repost translate or feed to ai

[peefartress2]

min needs glasses - butterfly soup one shot

"There’s no doubting it," Noelle stated matter-of-factly. “You need glasses.”

Min snarled back at her, deeply offended. "No, I fucking don't ." 

"Dude." said Akarsha, pushing a piece of paper across the lunch table, something written on it. Something nonspecific, that Min couldn't read definitely because Akarsha had shit handwriting and not because they couldn't tell what the pencil marks were supposed to be. Clearly, Akarsha was at fault.

"Can you read this?" she asked, her eyes narrowed, analyzing Min's reaction. Min themself scoffed.

"No!!- cause your handwriting is ass."

Akarsha and Noelle shared a look- Akarsha in particular having a bright, smug, I Told You So Grin.

"Noelle wrote it, actually.” Akarsha corrected. “And you know she’s a tryhard.”

“It’s not like her weird loopy cursive is any easier to read!”

“The Min I know would never pass off the opportunity to make fun of me for writing, in formal cursive,” Noelle cleared her throat. “ Boogers are a little more funny than pee pee, but less funnier than poo poo. End quote.”

Min snorted in amusement as Akarsha leaned over to say “I came up with that,” wildly grinning at the delicate, narrator-like way Noelle read the sentence. Noelle looked exasperated as Min and Akarsha high-fived under the table, as if she wasn’t right there.

“I’m beginning to think that this is more about making a fool of me than proving that visual aid would be useful to Min.”

“Nonono I would never do that!!”

“I doubt it.” The sound of Diya’s voice made Akarsha jump, because she swore that the girl just went to the bathroom. When did she get back?? Was she so stealthy?? What??

Min didn’t seem to notice Akarsha and Noelle’s surprise though, and turned to Diya like it was nothing.

“It would be so terrible,” Min told Diya desperately. “I refuse to be that nerdy Asian kid with glasses. Could you even imagine?? That’s Noelle’s thing, why doesn’t she get glasses?”

Noelle muttered something under her breath that implied there was some truth in that statement, causing Akarsha’s eyes to widen.

“But…” Diya frowned. “If you did have an eyesight problem… wouldn’t that affect how you play baseball?”

There was a helplessness in Min’s eyes as they looked at Diya like a kicked puppy, just utterly shocked and disappointed with how their eyebrows were pointed up. “No… NO…”

“No, no way I’m getting glasses. I’m just better I don’t need them I swear- and there’s also no way my parents care enough to buy me any, and I don’t care enough to ask them. And- ”

“If you talk to the school counselor or something and have the school approach your parents, there’s a chance they’ll be more open to the idea of getting your vision checked out,” Diya said lightly.

“You know you can get eye contacts too, if you don’t want glasses.” Akarsha pointed out, and Noelle nodded.

“Or you could wear sports glasses for when you play.”

Akarsha snickered. “Oh my god, those things look so goofy. I think Noelle’s right for once, Min.”

Min did not look pleased, their nose wrinkled. “This discussion is over.” 

Two weeks later, after refusing to wear the new pair of glasses they got, Min finally caved- now that their poor vision was acknowledged, it was more annoying to deal with. Thus, a generic looking pair of black glasses had found their way to Min’s face. Min saw Diya and Akarsha walking together, approaching the lockers, fully ready for Akarsha to clown on them.

“Eyyy!” Akarsha cheered as she walked over. “See!! Being visually impaired isn’t so bad!”

“Whatever. Even with glasses, I’m not as much of a dork as you .”

Diya smiled, taking her hat and placing it on Min’s head, the brim covering their eyes until Min pushed it up, looking at Diya with a grumpy expression.

“I think you look pretty fashionable,” she said.

“...Thanks.” Min mumbled, their face turning just a tint pink, eyes suddenly brightening when they remembered something.

“Oh!! So, apparently I’m farsighted or something? Which means I don’t think I have to wear these stupid things when I’m playing ball.”

“Aw man,” Akarsha sighed, shaking her head. “Was looking forward to watching you play in dorky glasses. It would’ve been great.”

“It’d also be great if I gouged your eyeballs so that even glasses couldn’t help you see.”

“ Min …”

“Right, right, sorry. Less violence. Yeah,” Min crossed their arms, looking up at Diya. Without her cap, the sun seemed to hit her wavy brown hair in a way that made it shine. Min enjoyed the way that hair always fell out of her ponytail, due to how Diya’s cut was just a bit too short to stay tied up normally. They tilted their head, peering at Diya’s golden-brown eyes. With their newly improved vision, things that were close were much clearer now.

“Hm. Only one thing I like about having glasses now, I guess.” Min said, and never elaborated no matter how many questions Akarsha asked.

[luimagines]

Alright, this thought has been in my head for a little while and I’d like to voice it.

I wear glasses, ever since 3rd grade. The funny thing is that I actually wanted glasses back then because I thought they looked cool. Now that I’ve had to deal with them for years, they’re so annoying: having to clean them, get new prescriptions every couple visits, sliding down your face, having to take them off when showering or swimming for example so you can’t see, and most importantly, when they accidentally break!

So I’ve seen My Hero Academia, and if you haven’t, it’s about a world of people who all have powers and they go to superpowers school, and there’s this character named Eida. He wears glasses. When the class sees his room, he has a whole wall of glasses. Why? Because in the line of hero work, they always break.

Therefore, my thought was, well first, lucky Links, not having to wear glasses, I wish lol. But if they did have to wear glasses, how the heck would they survive?? Like, they can’t just carry 100 pairs with them on the adventure, but also, they need to see?? My idea was maybe they have them enchanted so they can’t break or something? But also, that doesn’t permanently stick them to their face, so if they’re in battle and their glasses get knocked off their face, what do they do?? Did they just train to fight blind as plan B all the time?? Or can the Master Sword tell them where to swing and stuff?? But only Sky’s holding the sword in LU so that’s it? The rest of them are just going in blind? Good luck?? Lol, this is the type of things you think about when it’s stuck with you.

Glasses buddies!!! I've needed them since like the third grade, but I didn't want them. After not wearing them for reading, I was upgraded to full time use in my freshman year when I realized just how bad my eyesight gotten. (Borrowed a friend's pair for funzies and went "oh...I can see now.") That being said, it's more or less confirmed that they have magic pockets but-! I can see your point. I'm willing to bet that they still have limited space despite the items they carry and no one is going to have 1000 pairs on their person at once.

I'm willing to bet that they have maybe two extra pairs at most.

However, I'm also willing to bet that they don't want to risk it, knowing that they caught into some stupid stuff so they just... don't wear them. Which makes aiming... interesting. But when has something like that ever stopped Link?

I don't see these guys pulling a Velma and getting on the floor, hands and knees, "I can't find my glasses" while there is a full scale battle around them.

I think it would be more of a "Welp- time to swing with reckless abandon. Hope I don't hit someone I like. Let's do this."

[the-cannibal]

Could I request a match up please? I'm 20 y/o and I have social anxiety so I rarely interact with people bc it brings me discomfort. my pronouns are she/her. I have medium length black hair and curled bangs and I prefer long baggy shirts and baggy pants bc I prefer comfort over style. oh and I have really comically bad eyesight and wear black rimmed glasses. I'm also thick & tall so I think it adds to my general awkwardness. Also I am really bad with eye contact hshhsjs

Helloooooooo! Ugh I relate so much to the bad eye sight, I’ve had glasses since I was in the first grade 😭 also I feel you with eye contact, I always end up staring at my feet rather than whoever is talking to me

I paired you up with…

Dwayne!

The big quiet, handsome, lowkey kinda scary, vampire Dwayne would be perfect for you!

He is able to help you with your anxiety, doing whatever helps calm you or brings you comfort. He doesn’t like people himself so he understands your feelings. Want to be held? He has his arms around you, lightly rocking side to side. Don’t like to be touched? Perfectly fine, he’ll find somewhere nice and quiet for you to sit at and sit next to you. Need breathing techniques? He’s read a whole bunch of them! Need food, water, someone to talk to? Literally anything you need this man has your back.

He loves your glasses, he finds them so cute on you and loves to take them off you and press a kiss between your eyes, and then slip them back on you.

I think your style of comfort over style is something he finds cute! He’s so used to seeing him and the boys get super dressed up, but seeing you wear what you like because you like it and find it comfy? It makes him smile. He definitely would start wearing cozy comfy clothes in the cave with you :)

Man probably is always touching you in some way or another. Holding hands, a hand on your shoulder, arm wrapped around your waist, he just always is touching you!

Loves to take you on rides on his motorcycle to quiet, empty places. You two have your own special spots where you guys go to get away from people and just hang out one on one with each other!

[morpheussons]

Nora and me

Trigger warning: sexual content, drugs

Nora is a peasant disguised as a genius princess. We met some months ago in a club, waiting in line next to the toilets for, well, you know, not the toilet and ended up in the same cubicle. We didn't leave each others' side for 48h. She looked ravishing and hotter than a Thai super chile.

I think I can generalize the way Nora's body is shaped and apply it to her personality. There has to be a correlation between character and body shape. Everything about her is focused, sharp, pointy, directional, intentional and loaded with energy. The same goes for the shape of her anus, otherwise it would be impossible to explain the sheer force of her farts. She could fart so vehemently that you felt the sofa trembling sitting next to her. Once, at a home party, she sat on the kitchen table, sipping a mixture of alcohol and some unidentified liquids, obviously drunk, and farted so powerful through her glittery dress that the MDMA, carefully presented on the mirror, scattered all over the table surface. The gays went crazy. Keep her ass away from the drugs. I mean, literally.

Also, her intelligence, movements, jokes, her drunk gaze and semi-articulated speech pinch the atmosphere as an embroidery of filth and decadence. She's in fashion of course, earning shitloads of money by judging young designers and models while floating in the rush of drugs and low self-esteem. Because although she looks fabulous and hip, in an unguarded moment you can see the depths of self-loathing and despair in her eyes. She embodies and owns it, wears them as a sad trophy, a weakness leveled up to an admirable feature. 

According to Nora, the eyes tell everything: they luxuriate, they shine, they "profoundalize" and deepen like rubies, they make the outfit shine and not vice versa, and will move the attention to the places that matter most. When you treat your eyes like jewels, the crowd looks where you are looking, your eyes will suck their attention and everyone will succumb to the radiating power. Being looked at is being seduced, it’s Nora acknowledging the worth of you existing. There is so much in her gaze and people want to be part of all that, be part of the world she’s looking at, part of her attention and life. There's no diamond that can compete with Nora's finely-honed eyes, and no money can buy the little time she takes interest in you. 

Nora and me are a bad combo, we ignite the worst parts of each other, two drinks of alcohol and combustion happens in our brains, spilling indecencies like pouring champagne over a tower of crystal glasses. Once the lid is off, we sparkle vigorously. In an instant, everyone is affected. It’s a bush wildfire, everyone turns flammable by our contagious energy and the madness spreads like chlamydia in a circuit gay afterparty. Things happen there, and me loosing my glasses at an orgy is the least worrisome. Since I moved to the capital, this is my 5th pair. I really have bad eyesight, so the moments my judgement was impaired by blurry human bodies, I sucked too many questionable dicks attached to even more questionable body parts. I frequently asked her not to bring her dealer home. Last time we ended up sucking his dick in the bathroom and it was terrible. After that little adventure I had to talk to my team of therapists, main conclusion: it's not me, it's my trauma. That's a broad concept though, am I referring also to that time the police broke my front door because I'm queer, or to my precious childhood memory of my dad jerking off on my little brother's face and made me watch? But enough about me.

I don't know when she sleeps or if she even dares to. Her brains processing her lifestyle every night must be like Sisyphus rolling 3 rocks at the same time, considering the amount of drama and intrigue she collects on her way to the next shoot in Paris or Rome. I love her deeply and I cast myself as the safe haven in her escapades, not that there's much left of safety once the drugs kick in and my mind goes berserk. She has a same ‘me’-person in every city she roams, from Sarajevo to Shanghai, and I truly feel them gays, tumbling around in her slipstream while she passes through their lives as an intoxicated fighter jet.

The best talk we ever had was under a living room table at 4 a.m., trying to recover the dropped bag of 3MMC by sniffing it off the floor, between the crumbles of garlic bread and Tuscany olives. "I miss my dad", she said, staring at the purple high heels, tapping the floor nervously just in front of us. I don't want to know how that triggered the memory of her father, but her voice was sincere and raw. I wiped away some white powder and crumbles from under my nose and asked where he was right now. “He's dead”, she said. “Somewhere in a mass grave in Serbia, I don't know”. “Ok”, I mumbled, “that's a mood killer”. Normally that would cheer her up, but the way this hurt animal lifted her head from the floor and looked at me, nope, not this time. ‘So rude', she said. 'You're shit and you know it' and she pushed me but fell on her side while trying and bumped her head to the table leg. “You fucker”. That was it, really. Nothing more. Or I don't remember anymore. She then rolled over to the sofa, climbing it while violently pushing away two guys making out. I sat there for 10 more minutes, trying to make sense of her dead father and how she became this person, before making my way through the dance floor towards the toilet. On hands and knees, meanwhile being petted, sat on, hit, pushed and stomped. When I finally reached the toilet, I stared into the dark water and blacked out.

I woke up under the sofa some 18h later, and Nora was already on a mission to Amsterdam. I only received some nonsensical text messages later that evening, meaning she was probably doing ok.

[iid-smile]

nanami would...

if they were dating you series.

hold your face just like this. oh. my. GOSH. it's not something he does regularly either, because when he cups your face, it's usually more to the side on your cheek, fingers reaching behind your ear. when he does it THIS way though, it's when you're hesitating or not being completely honest about something. he does it to catch you a bit off guard, as well as to properly maintan eye contact with you and make sure that you don't look away. he hates it when you tell him white lies, and would much rather that you tell him the truth all the time. he wants to know when you're hurting, and honesty would give him a heads up of what he should and shouldn't do. after you confess whatever you're holding back, he'd squeeze your cheeks just a little and kiss you.

massage your thighs and shoulders. he likes it most when you're completely relaxed when you're at home. if you mention any tightness anywhere, he'd immediately work on it, ask if he's doing too much or not enough, maybe even take you to bed so he can do a full body massage. if you insist on cooking for the two of you by yourself, he'd stand behind you the entire time and massage your shoulders while he watches. when he's on the couch, you'd sit slightly on his lap, facing the side, and lean back against the arm rest. your thighs are literally right there in front of him, and it'd be so easy to just slip his hands in between them, firmly squeezing and circling the skin. he likes it when you shift closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. if it's cold or winter, he'd put a blanket over your legs first, and tuck them closer to himself.

call you his wife. i think everybody knows this by now. yes, he does use darling, love, or honey to refer to you more often. but if he's talking to a coworker or somebody who's not familiar with you, he'd always call you his wife. when he goes out to buy gifts for your anniversary, birthday or other holidays, jewellery is usually on the list. he emphasises to the worker that he's buying for his wife, because he always wants to get something that seems a little more special.

let you wear his reading glasses. his eyesight isn't bad, he'd just much rather be able to read the words clearly when he has about book in bed. when you both sleep in, you'd reach over to his bedside table and slide his glasses on. it's cute, but he does take them off you after a short while so you don't give yourself a headache. sharing glasses with him would be so cute as well... like imagine how surprised he would be when he catches you wearing them while reading because you thought he wasn't home? at some point, you both may even buy the same glasses in different colours to match.

enjoy watching you dance. you don't even have to be a good dancer. his eyes would follow every movement as you dance around your bedroom, living room, kitchen, or whatever event you're at. you'd look the cutest when you wear polyester socks, so you'd be sliding and spinning everywhere + even better if you pair it with flowing clothing. he also finds it amusing when you sing the lyrics to him with a spoon or remote as a makeshift microphone. he would never record anything, leaving it up to his memory to save lovely moments like this.

─────────────୨ৎ─────────────

[cinefairy]

Y'ALLL!!! when people say that self concept is key they mean: IT. IS. THE. KEY!

here's my success story from focusing on my self concept for a week! just a single week, i am in tears!!

so before, i used to brush off self concept and think that i'll work on it/get a got sc when i get my other desires, which is all wrong. i am so thankful that i let go of the old story, i used to limit myself and wasn't even aware. self concept can easily show you all your desires in the 3d, and then some!! the realisation made my life a 1000x easier.

then i read some posts and success stories that came about all thanks to self concept and i said to myself: that can be me, it is time to stop perceiving myself as a victim/bad manifestor, and i should just start focusing on my self concept! it is time to change the story.

so i started vaunting and ranting and affirming how my self concept is amazing, through the roof, wonderful, perfect, never fails me... you get the story. i didn't even visualize, didn't go into the void, didn't script. i was vaunting in front of the mirror, looking at myself and sometimes pretending i was talking to someone. i repeated that for a week, and almost every day i got some of my desires !!!

now, onto what i manifested:

1. An adorable kitten! my parents never would have gotten me a cat, no matter how much i asked them to, so i just relaxed myself and stepped into the mindset that no matter what anyone in my reality does or says, my desires are here and nothing can stop them. on the second day of the week, my parents asked me if i wanted a cat because my grandparents' cat just gave birth to three cutest kittens.

2. Perfect vision! i am someone who has been wearing glasses my entire life, my sight was deteriorated at birth due to some complications during labor, and my optician told me some years ago that there was no chance for me to be fully recovered (i had a couple of surgeries so far, and constant check-ups, it was so nagging and uncomfortable). she also told me a month ago that i should not use my phone, but nothing can stand between me and my screen time so i just decided to manifest my bad eyesight away! and i did it, but it's weird without my glasses lmao.

3. A new friend group! my old friends were closed-minded people, i am talking unsuportive, bashing on other people, but 'kind' only to others in the friend group, full of negativity and hate. i just needed a fresh friend group, so i manifested one! one of my friends now goes to the same uni as me, we start in october and it's so exciting heheh

4. Fluent in French language! i just wanted to be fluent in a language that wasn't my first language or english, and i had been studying french in elementary school so that seemed like the best option for me.

5. Money! i manifested the amount of my scholarship to double in my bank account and for no one to bat an eye at that, and for a certain amount of money to appear in my wallet daily (yes, spawning thing is so simple with the right mindset!!!), and for my parents to be rich because they deserve it.

6. A perfect dorm room! the dorm rooms my sister had been living in were just not it, so i needed to take thing in my own hands and manifest a two-bed bedroom with it's own bathroom (no communal bathrooms for me pls) in a dorm not far away from college which i share with another friend.

7. Desired body! my figure now is slim, i have 6-line abs odbwkdbajwhj i could only dream of that a month ago, everything on this list makes me so happy!! i went shopping with my mom yesterday and every pair of heans i tried actually fit me which is a big deal for me lol

8. Lenient parents! as i mentioned, my parents were not the ones to let me get a pet, and they also were very strict with my school grades in the past, and with my going out and hanging out with friends. but now, i have a great relationship with them, they are relaxed and they don't forbid me from doing anything (i literally am going on a staycation with a friend this weekend).

9. New clothes! yesterday during shopping, i found so many amazing sweatshirts, even one that is croptopped which i never used to wear, but got the courage to because who else would wear it if not a bad bitch?? i got a denim jacket, some jeans, sneakers... all i need at a discount!!

self concept makes life easy!! asf!! just stay focused on your new reality and there is nothing you can't get! have fun manifesting, and thank you cinefairy for opening my eyes <333

LETS GOOOOO THIS IS SO AMAZING ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ SO PROUD OF YOU ANON WOOW. all these achievements just from affirming how amazing you are.

[honeystwiggypeach]

Davie needs glasses!

Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader

Dad!Eddie masterlist!!

Based on a little conversation I had with @k-k0129 about Davie needing glasses

This is also based a little bit off of my own childhood of wearing those eyepatches to correct my lazy eye!

Tw~ Eyedoctors, Davies afraid of doctors, Light cursing, eye dilation(like with the eye drops), eyepatches, glasses,Davie doesn’t like wearing either all the time cause he’s a kid who even if you explain it to him doesn’t always get it!, uhm Wayne is described wrestling with Eddie to get his eyepatch on, idk let me know if I missed anything!

Eddie knew that when he was younger he should have wore his damn eyepatch, instead he’d fight with Wayne running around the trailer hiding in the cabinet beneath the sink until Wayne would get him out and basically wrestle him down onto the couch before popping the patch over his eye where Eddie would try and pry it off for a good thirty minutes until Wayne would take it off for him after he pouted for another hour and a half.

When Eddie told Wayne about Davie’s eyesight and lazy eye all inherited from Eddie he heard Wayne giggle…he fucking giggled????

“Ohh good luck putting the eyepatch on him son, your behaviors coming back to bite you in the ass ain’t it boy?”

Eddie just scoffs rolling his eyes, “whatever…gonna bring him to my appointment so he sees it isn’t bad, he gave y/n a hard time when she brought him last time.” He mutters.

And he was right. Davie sits in the chair across from him his little legs kicking back and fourth as he watches Eddie tilt his head back when the eye doctor instructs him to.

He can almost see his son flinch when he gets eye drops put in.

“See daddy didn’t cry buddy?” He coax’s trying to get Davie to realize there wasn’t a sign one that Eddie was distressed.

And it had worked, when Davie went in for his eye appointment in the afternoon, he got his eyes dilated like a champ.

“See buddy, that wasn’t bad was it?” Davie shakes his head no, “and now we get to pick out glasses!”

Eddie had held off picking a pair for himself until now so he could pick a pair with Davie.

He picked out a pair that sort of matched with Davies much smaller ones, but before the two could leave he had to get eye patches. Davie had a lazy eye, and one treatment for that(I am basing this off my experience with my lazy eye!) was an eyepatch over your ‘good’ eye for a few hours so the weaker eye could be stimulated.

Eddie remembers wearing them and fucking hating the damn things, they stuck to his forehead to his cheekbone which meant the adhesive got in his eyebrows and it was a nightmare until Wayne took it off and than he was fine and acted like nothing happened(que Wayne sitting there like better now son😐)

So Eddie wanted to at least let him pick out his own eyepatches! So Davie picked a set that were turquoise with little dinosaur print on them.

And on the way home Eddie explained to him what they were for and what their purpose was in the first place.

“And that’s why you’ve got to wear them.” He tells Davie as he parks the van.

“Are you gonna wear them like a good boy?” Eddie asks as he sets down Davie and he nods quickly.

“And I get a treat?” Eddie sighs but nods, if his sweet little boy was going to wear the dreaded eyepatch he might as well get rewarded for them.

Davie runs into the house eyepatches in hand as he runs up to you.

You pick him up settling him into your hip as he tells you about the eyepatches and matching glasses he got with Eddie.

“Davie has to wear glasses?” Lucille asks popping out from around the corner.

“Yea!” Davie tells her a little more excited than what he is, to be honest Davie dreaded the day him and Eddie would have to go to pick up their glasses.

“Be right back!” She tells before disappearing to her room.

“Are you going to put your patch on soon?” You ask Davie as Eddie sets the box of patches on the counter.

He gulps nervously as he nods.

You set him on the counter turning back to what you were making as you let Eddie put his patch on him.

When you turn back you see Davie pouting as the patch is placed on his eye.

“Mama I can’t see nothin!” He tells you as he squints his eye.

“Honey I don’t think that’s going to help you much.” You tell him pushing out the wrinkle he’s created in between his brows.

Eventually him and Eddie go in the living room to color.

Some two weeks later Eddie’s going out with Davie to pick up their glasses, when he gets home he removes his contacts, and wears glasses with Davie who has his eyepatch in underneath his glasses.

Lucille runs into the living room holding up a price of paper, “Davie Davie look!” She practically shouts shoving the paper in her younger brothers face.

“Lucille he can’t see it it’s too close.” You tell her softly.

“Oh right!” She says pulling it back a little as she points at a little drawing, “see Davie he’s got glasses now!”

Tags~ @miracleboysel @jessyballet @reticent-writer @bubbledtee @marishortcake @marrigold-2002 @griffinfinity @jvmisvu @eddiemunsonsfavbitch (idk why its not letting me tag you😭😭)

[sugas-sweetheart]

This is a dumb ask but the jjk cast (or how many characters you want) with an SO whose got glasses? Very near sighted, theyd have to a scooch up to five inches away until they can see clearly.

A/N: help i kinda felt this my eyesight is so bad but I haven’t had my eyes tested in like 8 years so I don’t have glasses LMAO my friend used to read me the notes in class bc my teacher didn’t let me take a photo of the board - i only did the few characters that i could think of an idea for so please feel free to request for someone else if you want to see them here <3

Title: Glasses 

Genre/warnings: none!! general sweet headcanons, megumi is concerned about your eyesight, they just want you to remember your glasses okay, reader is a sorcerer in makis i guess, not proofread as per usual

Pairings: Itadori Yuji, Gojo Satoru, Zen’in Maki, Fushiguro Megumi x gn!reader (separate) 

Format: written headcanon (makis is exactly 100 words omg) 

reblogs appreciated!

Itadori Yuji 

 ⤷   He adores you so much. Even with your poor eyesight. Yuji is probably one of those kids who has always had near perfect vision and it’s just always been something he has, he doesn’t gloat about it like other people do. He’ll happily get photos of things you can't read and zoom in for you, he’ll even read it out to you if that’s easier. If you’re forgetful about your glasses, he’s constantly reminding you to grab them or wear them, or will pick them up for you if you’ve left them on the side somewhere. Sometimes lets a chuckle out when he sees you scooting closer to something and offers to read it for you. 

Gojo Satoru

⤷   Absolute menace. Teases you about your glasses quite a bit, but he also bought you both matching glasses. So you now have a pair of round, tinted glasses with your required prescription in, and he doesn’t regret buying them ever. He will often carry them around sometimes as a spare, just in case you ever forget your own glasses and require them. He will help if you ever need him to read something, or if you need a photo of something. He means well in his own matching glasses way. 

Zen’in Maki

⤷  She lightly teases you about your eyesight as if she doesn’t need glasses to see curses (we love you Maki i’m sorry). Another one to constantly remind you about glasses, she probably makes sure to send a reminder text every time you two are preparing to go out anywhere whether it be a mission or a day out. She just wants you to be able to go about your day without a hindrance. She probably once hit your glasses off during training and broke them, she apologised profusely before going out with you to get new ones/get them fixed. 

Fushiguro Megumi

⤷  He’s fairly indifferent to it at first, he probably never realised how bad your eyesight was until you forgot your glasses one day. He’s slightly surprised the first time you forget them and he sees you squinting like there’s no tomorrow until he takes a photo of it or reads it out to you. (headcanon that he has really weak prescription glasses for like reading) He let you borrow his glasses once, and when you first put them on, you proceeded to state that it made almost no difference for you. It was then he realised he should always remind you to bring your glasses or grab them for you. 

taglist (open): @justamultifandomfan16 @mattsvn @yee-harr @mushr00m00 @mystic-helena @silkylious @therealcozyy @katsulovee 

[mxyirin]

DAY 01 ; cold & charming

"You sure you're not coming?" Diluc asked looking at his best friend.

Both of them shared the same classes and had a free period, for the time being, the red-head wanted to go to the nearby park for some fresh air.

Deciding it would be boring to be alone, he asked the male beside him.

Diluc looked at [Name].

Like always his blue hair was neat while his amber eyes were hidden behind a pair of glasses.

His eyesight wasn't even that bad, why was he wearing those glasses was all Diluc could wonder.

[Name] nodded his head in assurance as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

"I'm sure."

After making sure that his friend was ok, the red-head sighed before waving the other bye.

"Then I'll get going."

"Hmm." [Name] put on his air pods as he opened the book he was reading previously.

Humming slowly he made his way to the bleachers so he could listen to his music peacefully as he read the book in his hand.

He could feel a burning stare on his figure but he ignored it.

It had become a norm for him.

[Name] was a born prodigy and strived towards perfection. Good looks and a noble family were something he was handed on the platter for him the moment he was born.

Growing up he was taught the proper etiquette, superior education and various skills.

All fit for a member of the Lawrence clan.

As part of the esteemed Lawrence clan, he was subjected to various fancy parties and gatherings by his dearest uncle who believed himself to be superior just to the family he was born in.

How infuriating, [Name] licked his lower lips as he focused once again on the book in his hands.

"Oh~"

He felt someone tap his shoulder, he lifted his yellow eyes from the book to the person tapping his shoulder.

And there he saw ━

"Seriously," Ajax groaned out fixing his hair and wiping the sweat off his face.

"Shut up before I expose your ugly pictures." The person beside him threatened.

"I didn't even say anything, Kuni!" He defended himself.

'Kuni' scrunched his nose in distaste, "Don't call me that." He muttered lowly.

"Argh, men." Rosalyne rolled her eyes.

"Just 'cause you're in a relationship doesn't mean you gotta hate on us," Ajax said looking at the blonde who seemed to be conversing with her lover over the phone.

"I'm not hating on you-" The woman looks up from her phone only to see the ginger stare in a particular direction in pure awe.

"He's way out of your league, kid." Rosalyne deadpanned.

"W-What?" Ajax's head snapped back to her and this grabbed Kunikuzushi's attention as well.

"Who?" He asked, his violet eyes searching for the person being mentioned in their conversation.

"[Name] Lawrence," Rosalyne answered.

Kuni whistled in appreciation and the ginger felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance as his hands clenched into a fist.

The violet-haired boy glanced at the ginger who was glaring at him with a furious look on his face and he snapped his fingers together.

"I've got an idea." He said making the other two pay attention to him.

"What?"

An evil smile took place and Ajax couldn't help but shiver.

"30 days, get involved with him," Kuni pointed his thumb at the male with pale blue hair who seemed to be reading a book.

"What why?" Ajax asked, too startled by the sudden words.

He didn't get why [Name] and he were supposed to get involved with each other, as Kuni claimed.

"For our entertainment."

It's Rosalyne who replied this time.

There was no way he would easily accept a bet made by his two friends especially when it involved not only his happiness but also his ━

Ajax took a peek at [Name] who was still busying himself with the book in his hands.

"Lover boy, quit it will ya?" Rosalyne said with an annoyed sigh.

This guy was a literal definition of the word simp and he was beyond their saving.

"If you'll get entertainment, what will I get?" He raised an eyebrow at them.

"Hmm? Mora." Kuni answered easily.

"No."

Immediate rejection is the answer Ajax provided them as he huffed to look away but his eyes once again found the beautiful man reading a book.

"You're down bad," Kuni smirked at him causing the other to get a red hue on his face making his freckles more prominent.

"Fine," Rosalyne grumbled as she pushed her blonde hair back, her painted nails tapping against the table they sat on.

"Mora and we comply with one of your wishes."

"Really?" Ajax asked wanting to confirm if they were actually serious about the whole thing.

Seeing they were not fooling around with the whole bet thing, he stood up.

"Deal." He grinned cockily and moved towards his 'target'.

"You think he'll win?" Kuni leaned back on his chair as he watched the ginger from the corner of his eye.

"Who knows." Rosalyne snorted at the question directed at her.

They watched with intense curiosity whether their friend could charm the popular Lawrence.

He was well-known for being cold and polite. Handsome looks enough to charm anyone and smart to be part of the top scorers of the grade.

Their jaws would drop to the ground if it was physically possible as they saw the scene in front of them.

"What the fuck!" Kuni aggressively whispered too shocked to utter anything else.

Rosalyne too was shocked but was more composed than the violent-haired male sitting beside her.

"Would you look at that?" She said with her eyes narrowed, "Ajax turned out to be a charmer."

"Or maybe he's the one being charmed." Kuni sweatdropped.

They could see the ginger blushing furiously at what [Name] had said to him while the other had a small smirk present on his face.

"He really is down bad huh,"

If Ajax had a tail behind his back, they would see it wagging from the amount of energy that was bursting through him.

"Is he seriously-" Mouth agape in shock, Kuni pointed at the scene in front of him as he turned to look at the equally shocked lady beside him.

"Yeah, he is." Rosalyne's eyes widened.

[Name] and Ajax walked together somewhere.

"[Name] truly is the heartthrob!"

"Yeah, cold and charming."

━ Yes, this is the cliche romance which starts with a bet. But is it really?

━ This is modern au, they are in college although their ages aren't mentioned. You may take any age you prefer.

[missgeniality]

Opaline Moon (m)

“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan

➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite​ 💕

➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11.2k

➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest. 

➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er

➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities​, @kithtaehyung​ and @baepsaetan​, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!

This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.

Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment's notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.

Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse. 

This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’. 

Best. Friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step. 

The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir. 

You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.

“Y/N!” 

Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.

“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”

“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.

“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”

“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells. 

Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.

His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy. 

“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”

You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink. 

“What happened?”

“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’” 

She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.

“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”

You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you. 

Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend. 

The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses. 

He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.

But wow.

His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.

By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting. 

“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.

You’re far too overdressed. 

You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it. 

The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame. 

You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone. 

“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”

Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.

“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”

“That’s the fact?”

“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”

“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”

“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.” 

“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”

“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”

“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.

Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest. 

One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours. 

With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls. 

“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold. 

“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm. 

His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance. 

You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.” 

How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist. 

Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in. 

One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole. 

“Fuck me.” 

In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.

“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings. 

“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat. 

“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

No, no, no. 

Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do. 

“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”

“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”

Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide. 

Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.

But something doesn’t feel right.

The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.

Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.

Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.

 Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.

“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”

“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” 

Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!” 

It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.

“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!

“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. “You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”

“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!” 

Cool.

You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke. 

Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting. 

One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.

And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago. 

The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.

Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk

Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.

Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya

Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not. 

The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down. 

He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges. 

“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”

Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.

You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance. 

As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream. 

Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites. 

In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.

“Hey.”

If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major. 

“Hi. How are you doing?”

Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency. 

“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”

His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless. 

But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.

“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?” 

Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act. 

“No, no! Of course not! I would never!” 

His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day. 

You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”

He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.

Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage. 

“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home. 

“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster. 

Best friends.

Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.

But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.

“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”

Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities. 

Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man. 

Well, not quite. Not one bit.

After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation.  He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).

“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”

You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one. 

Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.” 

“Hey!” 

The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self. 

One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath. 

“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.

“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”

Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact. 

Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.

A process that includes him getting naked.

Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-

Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church. 

And things only get tougher when he finally comes out. 

The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief. 

Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-

“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”

And there goes that dream. 

You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.

It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.

But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.

Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding. 

“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”

“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out. 

He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne. 

It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.

The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.

Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon. 

Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.

Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.

Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself. 

The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.

“Y-Y/N?”

Fuck.

You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin. 

Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?

You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires. 

Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side. 

Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.

You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.  

His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.

Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.

As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim. 

His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.

Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.

“I- I was jus-”

“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.

After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”

Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”

“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”

“Jin, I-”

“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”

You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain. 

“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”

“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”

“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”

You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.

And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.

You love him.

“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”

“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.

“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.

“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”

It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information. 

When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”

You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!” 

“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”

“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.” 

Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.

When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”

You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”

His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them. 

“So much more.”

Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck.  Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.

“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”

Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes. 

“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.” 

He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”

You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands. 

“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”

“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

“God, gladly.”

Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.

“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.” 

Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.

“Can I-”

“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”

All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”

“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”

“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”

You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different. 

Finally, his fingers find their way inside you. 

Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.

You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree. 

The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.

His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can. 

When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released. 

Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.

“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.

“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.

With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself. 

“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well. 

“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”

His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat. 

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling.  You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat. 

“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-” 

Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say. 

Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”

“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more. 

“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”

How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again. 

“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.

Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”

“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”

“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this. 

“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”

“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.

“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”

He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”

“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”

You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long. 

“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.

“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.

“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”

“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.

“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.

Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface. 

“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment. 

You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.

“You can move now, babe.”

“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock. 

Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back. 

“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”

“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”

To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him. 

He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right. 

You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately. 

“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.

You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release. 

And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.

You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high. 

Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.

“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”

“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”

Now this is something you could get used to.

As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you.  An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use. 

“I love you.”

The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him. 

“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”

If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want. 

You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.

“What is that?”

The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago. 

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”

He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

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Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the fic, my ask box is always open for your lovely opinions. To read more of my work, find my main masterlist here. :)

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

My Liability, My Deadweight

Fandom: The Chronicles of Riddick

Collection/Series: My Liability, My Deadweight

Pairing: Richard B Riddick x Female Fat + Glasses Wearing Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long

Rating: T (Swearing, Riddick is Riddick, violence)

Warnings: Swearing, violence towards deadly alien creatures, violence from deadly alien creatures towards the reader

Summary: None of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to be on a holiday resort planet, relaxing by glistening waters and forgetting your troubles. Not traipsing through a deadly jungle on an uncharted planet with a just as deadly companion who seems torn between helping you and hating you.

Notes: So I guess this is going to be similar to Western AU Din in that i’ll probably write some stuff in the same sort of world/vein as this. I’m just interested in the idea of Riddick with a reader who is the opposite of a survivalist, who isn’t fit or strong, who is scared. The idea of Furyans having mates or soulmates that they don’t really get to choose and the idea of Riddick having to come to terms with the idea that the person he wants to protect so bad needs his protection more than most is interesting to me.

This is probably such a niche thing to write, not only because the fandom is tiny, but also because people tend to write Riddick fanfic where the reader or OC is extremely capable, but I wanted to write it. So self-indulgent fic coming up.

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Kratos is a horror show of a planet. It’s the sort of planet you’d never thought you’d end up on, the sort of planet that you saw on horror vids and read about in the tales of survivors of tragedy. You weren’t supposed to be on it. You were just on a short trip, just supposed to go to a stupid holiday planet, at the insistence of your boss that you needed a break from your desk, that you worked too hard. You were a city slicker, an urban citizen, not an outdoorsman or an adventurer, certainly not the sort of person who’d come to a planet like this. But, your pilot had needed to make a stop, said there was a problem with the fuel cells that he needed to check out. So you’d made a pit stop on a barely charted planet. Nothing good ever happens on a barely charted planet. 

Covered in dense, muggy jungle, the planet would have been beautiful had it not been trying to kill you and your, for want of a better word, companion at every turn. It was covered in vibrant green forest, tropical plants, exotic and brightly coloured flowers (many of which, it turns out, were deadly themselves). There were brightly coloured bird-like creatures and primitive mammals that scurried through the trees and across the ground. It would have been beautiful, except for the limp in your walk from the burning claw marks deep in your thick thigh, except for the blood that followed in your wake, the dead bodies of the crew you’d left behind, and the yellow eyes that seemed to follow the two of you under the dark canopy.

After a stupid decision by your group to go out into the jungle to try and find a settlement of some sort, just because it had seemed like (as if there was any real reason to leave), you’d been picked off one by one. You could only describe the beasts as fucked up panthers. Two tails with stingers at the end, sharp spindly spines along their backs, an elongated neck, venomous fangs and sharp teeth and claws. They were hard to spot, silent in the underbrush and decidedly and most definitely deadly. The only reason you were still even alive was because of Riddick, because for some unknown reason the man, the murderer, had decided to stick close to you, like glue. You weren’t complaining.

At the time of boarding the ship for your trip it had seemed horrifying, to know that you were travelling on the same transport as Richard B. Riddick, escaped convict, known murder, predator. He was the sort of man your parents whispered about, the sort of man that you never wanted to meet. He was someone from your worst nightmare. Now he is your saving grace and surprisingly not what you had expected of a notorious big bad. While he meets many of your expectations, crude at times, harsh, and physically intimidating, he defies them too. He is at times oddly gentle with you and, the mere fact he cares about someone’s survival other than his own, is in itself a surprise. A fortunate one for you. 

“Are we nearly back to the ship?” You ask because your leg is killing you, because you so desperately just want to get off this planet even if it means being stuck in a confined space with a convicted murderer. You hate this planet, you hate the constant feeling of fear and of uselessness. You hate the truth of it all, that you are weak, vulnerable, prey not the predator. It has you realising your many weaknesses, many vulnerabilities, many failings. 

“Shhh…” Riddick raises his hand out in front of you, a universal sign to stop, while the other comes to his lips in a shushing motion. If he were a dog, his ears might very well have pricked up at the slightest sound. 

To you nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were no unusual sounds or movement in the brush. You couldn’t see anything out of place. Just as you begin to notice the silence, the lack of sound, that is the moment everything goes terribly wrong.

“Riddic-” You were cut off by your own scream. 

Things happen so fast that you don’t really have time to process them. One minute you are standing behind Riddick attempting to get his attention, the next a dark shape crashes into you and you’re on the jungle floor a heavy weight pressing on your chest and stopping your breathing. Your hands reach up instinctively, pushing against the creature in an effort to keep sharp gnashing teeth from your face, but you’re not strong and you’re not a fighter and you can feel your arms beginning to collapse already. Can hear yourself screaming for Riddick even as part of you thinks he’ll leave you there, abandon you to be eaten alive. There is a deep fear that this is it, this is the end. That it shall be painful, terrifying, lonely, and unfamiliar. 

Claws scratch at your arms, blood runs over your skin in rivulets as you scrabble in the dirt. Then as suddenly as the weight came it was gone, hefted off of you with an angry roar and the sound of a knife hitting flesh over and over again. You don’t look, can’t bring yourself to look, just lie there and breathe, in and out. You don’t want to see him do what he’s good at, don’t want to see alien blood, a dying creature, the parts of him that are less than gentle. So you stare up at the canopy and catch your breath, feeling the blood flow down your arms, the bruises that ache over your stomach, hips and legs. Feel the relief flow through you, combat the shock, as you realise you are not dead, you are alive, and he did not leave you to die. 

You’re rather numb in truth until you hear him muttering above you, “goddamn liability, deadweight…”, it shouldn’t upset you because it’s true. But it does, it upsets and angers you because you didn’t want to be here, you didn’t want any of this and you didn’t ask him to hang around, didn’t ask him to help you. You had no say in this. This was not your idea of a holiday, your idea of fun, or your fault. 

It forces you to your feet, forces you, despite the blood dripping from your wounds, to stand and face him, despite the bruises, despite the pain, despite the fear. You find yourself planting your feet even as you sway unsteadily, standing with hands on your wide hips and a scowl aimed at a man that could kill you easily. For the first time you’re too angry to overthink your actions towards the man. For a moment you stop thinking and start acting. 

“If i’m such a goddamn liability, then just leave me here! I didn’t ask for you to stay, Riddick! I didn’t ask for your help! If it’s such a fucking chore to have me along, if i’m really dead weight then leave me! Go!” You didn’t normally scream at anyone, it wasn’t your personality type. You were quiet, shy, retiring. A wallflower. You didn’t scream. You didn’t start fights. You didn’t do any of that. Anger wasn’t your natural response to anything. Fear was. But after being hunted down, time and time again by giant alien cats with venomous fangs and an uncanny ability to hide on a jungle planet, all while being called a liability, a dead weight by the one person you had to rely on, well, you were finally at your wits end. You were in pain, you were upset, frustrated and ready to just go home. 

You didn’t understand it. Why Riddick even bothered with you, practically a stranger. You knew you were a liability, that’s why it hurt so much when he said it. You were soft, emotionally and physically. You were a slow runner, a poor fighter, had terrible eyesight that required glasses, you weren’t light on your feet or graceful and you certainly didn’t know much about survival. You were overweight, unfit and unsure on your feet. You were prone to panic and tears, you were easily emotionally and physically unbalanced. Until this trip from hell you’d been content in the inner rim, working a normal job, a safe life. Your day to day had been comfortable, safe. Easy. You weren’t cut out for this, for danger and potential death and had Riddick, this known criminal, one of the most sought after murderers in the verse, not decided to stick by your side you’d have died at least ten times already. It didn’t make any sense and your frustration at yourself, the situation and at him had tears pooling in your eyes. You didn’t ask for any of this.

“I can’t.” He’s so impassive, so calm, that it pisses you off more. It pisses you off how hard it is to read him, how he hides his eyes behind black goggles that stop you understanding him. How he hides all emotion from you so easily. How is he okay with this? How is he so calm when everything around the two of you wants to kill you, when he could have left this goddamn planet already if you weren’t slowing him down at every turn? How could he stand there above the body of some hell spawn creature and just stare at you like that, like everything was just fine, just normal? Like he wasn’t covered in it’s blood. Like you weren’t dripping in your own. Like you hadn’t almost died. Again. 

“I..I don’t get it…? What do you mean you can’t? You could walk the fuck away right now. I can’t stop you! No one else is here to stop you! If you want to leave, leave! No one’s holding you back, Riddick! No one is going to stop you! I can’t bloody well can’t! Look at me!” You sound hysterical even to your own ears but you can’t help it. You are so scared, so confused, so frustrated, so panicked by all that’s happened, all that could happen. You gesture down to yourself, to the bloody coating you, the way you protectively hold yourself off of your hurt leg, the sheer stature different between the two of you. All the things that make it very abundantly clear that if he chose to simply walk away you couldn’t stop him. 

“Listen, princess, it’s not that fucking simple!” The snap is almost relieving, that he’s not as cold, not as impassive as you thought. That he could break too. That he could be angry, that he could be upset, that this wasn’t just normal. Even as his steps closer cause your back to hunch, cause you to second guess your antagonist behaviour. 

“I don’t understand!” 

With a growl he’s crowding you against a tree, thick arms caging you in. He’s imposing, large, a head taller than you and the action has him taking over every one of your senses. He never touches you in anger and while the display is intimidating, it oddly enough doesn’t scare you. It almost feels secure. Perhaps because not once has he done anything to suggest to you that he would hurt you, every move he’s made has been to keep you safe. Every time he’s touched you has been to pull you from danger or bring you back to your feet. Despite his harsh appearance, his foul language and the deadliness that he displays at every turn, he has never once given you cause to fear him. To fear how he would treat you. 

“You’re my mate, got it?! I don’t get to choose, I don’t get a choice! I can’t leave you! I just fucking can’t, so you’re a fucking liability and dead weight, but you’re my dead weight, got it? I ain’t fucking leaving you, we either both get off this motherfucking planet or we both get eaten by these fucks, princess. There’s no inbetween, understand?” Silver eyes flash at you as he tears the goggles from his eyes,  his brow furrows and the muscles in his thick neck and broad shoulders bunch and move with every piece of tension that bursts through him. You are distinctly and sharply reminded that Riddick is a predator in every sense of the word, while you are prey. You are on two separate ends of the spectrum. 

“Mate…?” Your eyes flit across the landscape behind his head, trying to process all those words and all their meanings. You don’t understand, you don’t understand any of it. But, those words soothe you in a way you can’t explain. He isn’t going to leave you. For whatever reason, for whatever this is, whatever he means, he isn’t going to leave you.  You let out a breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding. He’s not leaving, even if you’re a liability, a deadweight. Even when things get bad, he’s not leaving. He is, at this point, your only chance at getting home, getting away from him, of surviving. The panic in you begins to soothe, calm and settle. 

“We don’t have time for this.” You’re startled by the sudden display of affection as the man cups the back of your neck and presses his forehead into your own, “Just trust me.”

“I do, Riddick, I trust you” It’s hard to explain, the trust you feel for him, the safety as you let him lead you once more through the jungle. You are bleeding, in pain and still ever so aware of the dangers around you, but you have an implicit belief that with Riddick you are as safe as you can be. That if there was ever a person to carry you through this it would be him. 

You might still be confused, might not understand what he means by you being his mate or by his obligation towards you, but you know that he isn't leaving you for dead and that is enough right now. That is more than enough.

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