#and he's never been more aware of his natural bitch face LOL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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sonianvmd · 4 years ago

Text

thh characters with a crush on you

warnings: none, maybe some swearing but otherwise nothing major

oH and mentions of murder and death but this is danganronpa so im going to assume u expected as much

a/n: so we kickin this blog off with a bang, writing for LITERALLY THE ENTIRE TRIGGER HAPPY HAVOC CAST LMFAOAOAOAO (excluding hifumi, yasuhiro, and the two despairs doe bc i’ve already made that clear)

also some character’s sections are shorter than others im sorry i just couldnt think of as many bullet points for them *tiktok cry emoji*

edit: I FORGOT CELSESTE FU K SORRY

spoilers under the cut!!

★ 彡 ★ ミ ★ 彡 ★ ミ ★

makoto naegi

when he realizes he likes you, he doesn’t necessarily panic or anything, but he does get nervous

nervous around you, that is

y’all saw how he was with sayaka

if he says anything that might sound intimate then he’ll immediately rephrase it or reassure he didn’t mean anything by it

he really only does have good intentions but his wording just kinda flops sometimes

he appreciates how you listen to him and value what he says

you don't make him feel dumb or inferior compared to a bunch of ultimates with actual talents

he’ll muster up the courage to tell you eventually

let’s hope his luck comes through 😁

byakuya togami

now when THIS man realizes he likes you, he a bitch nigga bout it 😐

he can't believe he fell for a common plebeian such as you

but it was hard not to

the way you preferred to get to the point

the way you were aware of your situation and didn't sugarcoat how you felt about it, although you certainly were nicer with it than him

he's ruthless

anyways

you knew your priorities and spent no time trying to use your resources

he noticed how much you had in common; in you, he saw himself

and we all know how this mf feels about himself 😐

he’ll be quick to defend you in class trials

he won’t realize he’s doing it but he just subconsciously protects you

but just because he doesn't notice it, don't mean the rest of the class brushes past it as well

yeah they on his ass LMFAOO

kyoko kirigiri

kyoko is very good at keeping her composure so she won’t be very obvious

she’ll probably just hang around you more

she’ll also defend you in class trials, calmly

“oh, it couldn’t have been [name]. i remember seeing them in their dorm around the time the murder took place.”

hifumi probably finna say some dumb shit like “aye what was you doin in their dorm doe” but anyways

she finds you respectable

if you have anything to contribute, she’ll let you take the floor

when she tells you, she’s very composed, but also very indirect LMFAO

she’s not too sure on how to express her interest in you but maybe she’ll go about it like “well, [name], now we’ve made it here, would you like to step back into the world with me?” or somethin else along those lines idk

take her hand

pls

toko fukawa

y’all know her whole “master togami” shtick

yeah so 😁😁😁😁

no but fr, toko ofc still has her borderline stalkerish 🧍🏾‍♀️ tendencies

she’ll often find herself staring at you, either in the library or in the morning meetings everyday at breakfast

but she isn’t as straight forward as she is with byakuya

i actually think she’d be mad shy and non confrontational

the whole thing she kept up with him ? yeah, never again

if you approach her first then she’ll be able to get a few words out but for most of the conversation, she’ll just nervously play with her braids

you’ll most likely put two and two together

unless ur a makoto kinnie bc then you’ll have to wait till someone else puts it in place for u but anyways

if you decide to approach her about it, you’ll kinda be backing her into a corner bc she’s just bad at deflecting things lmao

she’ll eventually confess (begrudgingly but hey i mean its better than nothing)

expect much stuttering and a gesture like giving you a small gift

and not to be that writer that uses japanese terms in english writing but toko seems like a tsundere but not really if that makes sense?? so she’d probably shove it in your hands and if you try to say something then she’ll just try to play it off as not a big deal lol

calls u a baka 😍😍

aoi asahina

i know y’all all see how she is with sakura

yeah.

aoi is the kind of person who’d like to spend time with their crush rather than shy away from them

she values you and your friendship very much

bring her donuts

just trust me bring her donuts

she doesn’t really realize she’s into you like that for a while but believe me, she is, the whole time

and yeah i think she’d be nervous to tell you bc that’s just natural but ultimately she’d be cool about it

uh oh looks like we goin for a swim

sakura ogami

similar to kyoko, she’s very calm

despite her big and bad appearance, she really is a sweet girl

she cares for you and your well-being very much

will indeed go on x games mode for you

the way she tells you is very sincere and well spoken

kith her

naow

im sorry this is like the shortest one i couldn’t think of much for her 😔😔

leon kuwata

flirtatious ass mf

and he’s lightskin

so this just cannot go well

y’all know that bit where it’s like the guy yawns and stretches his arms up and then wraps one around your shoulder

yeah that’s literally him LMFAOO

he’s very confident

he was fairly well known with the ladies at his old school so you know he’s rhockin wit it ‼️

but

you feel.. different than usual ??

those girls were just lil flings n dates bc he was nice enough to accept their confessions and it boosted his ego anyway so it was a win win

but you

he was genuinely interested in you since he had saw you the first time

he didn’t just acknowledge your appearance

he learnt about your personality and your hobbies and what you liked and such, and he really cared and wanted to hear you talk about it all

he felt the need to really make an effort to show you how much he respected and had affections for you

he doesn't tell you in a grand way

probably just asks you out to a movie or somethin

he's chillin

mondo owada

you know

for being the biggest, baddest, most respected biker gang leader

or just for being in a biker gang period

mondo’s a huge softie lol

yeah he gets violent but he’s a sweet guy who cares about and is loyal to his friends

so mfs need to be nice to you

or they gettin whooped

when he decides it’s time to tell you how he feels, he thinks over his words and he’s all confident there’s no way you’d reject him but then he sees you in the halls and goes 🧍🏾 LMFAOOO

he’ll push through but it’s like he’ll walk up to you and look away from you because he refuses eye contact and just go

“so y/n, would you wanna.. tch.. come to a drive-in movie with me or somethin’?... dumbass.”

real smooth mondo i think you got em good job

please tease him LMFAOO it’d be so funny

he’d probably yell but you can tell he’s not mad so you just keep going with it

but once you’re done tormenting him, you do agree to the movie, don’t worry 🙏🏾

also mondo would call his s/o doll

that is all

chihiro fujisaki

my fav dude in a dress <3

chihiro would be quite shy, but that’s just how he is tbh so no surprise there

he’s very kind so he’d check up on you often just to see how you are

he cares about you v much

the way he confesses is one that consists of a red face as he offers you a box of candy or something similar

and he’d feel honored that you reciprocate his feelings

he’d be very scared to tell you his secret but once he does, he’s delighted to hear it doesn’t make any difference to you

he doesn’t know how he got so lucky with you

not only because woooo they like me back but also because you like him despite,, well everything about him LMFAOO

sweet lil boy

i’d feel like he’d talk about you to alter ego a lot

and when u meet the program for the first time, he’s like “oh! you must be [name]! master’s told me all about you :)”

sobbing i miss him

kiyotaka ishimaru

okay here’s the thing

if taka were to like someone

i can’t tell whether he’d be more strict because he doesn’t want them to get in trouble (and also so it would hopefully divert any suspicion that he DOES like you since he treats you the same as everyone else, only more)

or if he’d hold back more because he favors them LMFAOO

so imma write a lil bit for both

in the case that he was even stricter:

he’d prefer to be around you because he believes the best way he can make sure you stay out of trouble is to make sure you don’t get into any in the first place

of course it’s impossible to monitor you every second of every day but he does his best to make sure you’re doing well

if he sees you do anything out of line, he’s shutting that shit down IMMEDIATELY

but in the case he let up:

he’d still lecture you but noticeably less than the other students

if your feet were resting on top of a desk, he’d ask you to move them and then leave you alone rather than yell at you and forcibly move them himself

if you notice his behavior towards you in comparison to the other students do not tease him about it he will go as red as his eyes /hj

either way he’s confessing to you with a polite but exaggerated bow while holding out a well thought out letter with both hands

sayaka maizono

she will tell you

idk why but i feel like she’d be straight up lol

she’d make sure she’s sincere

she is the ultimate pop idol and all so she wants to make sure you know that she really does like you and isn’t playing a sick joke on you or anything

ok bc

while i do think she’d tell you

i’d feel like she’d be a little indirect just to see how you feel

like she’d give you a free ticket to one of her upcoming concerts with a kind smile

and naturally, you're like :o

and of course you come to support her

and seeing you smile at her from the crowd and cheer her on was the encouragement she needed to push her to ask you out

for real this time

she asks if you wanna come to a concert with her and ur like “oh yeah i love ur shows!!” bc ur dumb and then she’s like “no i mean.. for another artist” and eventually it hits you that she’s asking you out and ur like “oH YEAH YEAH SURE THAT SOUNDS GREAT YEAH OK” LMFAOO

———

i really hope that this is good LMFAOO this is my first time writing for dr so 😃👍🏾

fun fact i finished toko’s section first and taka’s last 😁😁

and i’d like to thank @mius-imagination @bloodygir n the rest of the discord for helping me figure some of these characters out *simultaneously whips and nae naes*

bye ive been working on this for like weeks this took forever

———

edit: here’s a deleted section bc i kept blanking for this character 😍

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remcycl333 · 3 years ago

Text

you don’t need to be happy to be manifest!! but...

who doesn’t want to be happy?

(long post alert, sorry in advance lol. but please read it all the way through, i really think it’ll be worth it<3)

ok, to preface this, you don’t need to be happy to manifest. i’ve manifested great, positive things while i was in depressive episodes. i manifested wonderful things with tears streaming down my face. BUT, i think something a lot of people overlook is that it’s really beneficial to feel positively about your desires.

this is something i realized a few months ago, saw great results from, and then forgot all about and, well, stopped seeing the progress i wanted. but i’m back on track now, don’t you worry.

(i’m going to be using the example of my sp, bc that’s what i have the most experience with, but this applies to literally anything u r manifesting)

i’ve made a few other posts saying pretty much what i’m about to say in this next paragraph, so if you’ve already read those, i’m sorry for repeating myself. just bear with me lol.

so i came to a realization a few months ago--and i don’t exactly remember how i came to this realization--that i kind of...hated my sp? like i fucking resented him. and i was like, wait a minute, that’s not right. i love my sp. that’s why i’m trying to manifest him! so why do i feel like this?

i used to focus on manifesting in steps, so naturally the first step was contact. so i’d be affirming all day every day “my sp is texting me right fucking now😡“ (and other variations) and then when he didn’t text me, it’d just make me angry at him. but technically, he didn’t even do anything wrong?? sure he didn’t text me, but he had no clue he was supposed to? idk it was all complicated and weird. and then when i wasn’t mad that he didn’t text me, i was having arguments with him in my head, preparing for some weird fight that my brain just assumed was going to happen whenever we did get into contact. which is weird, bc my sp and i never fight. like, this is my ex. yet i literally cannot tell you a single fight that we have ever had. we literally get along perfectly. we have never fought (or even argued) once in all the time that we’ve known each other. yet my brain was always fighting him. and it was just, exhausting?

and so one day, when i was troubleshooting, i realized: rem, if you were in a relationship right now with your sp, would u hate him? would u be constantly fighting with him? god i fucking hope not!

now, what would i be thinking? i’d be laying in bed at night, hugging my pillow, thinking about how much i love him. reflecting on how happy he makes me, how perfect he is, how good he makes me feel. i’d be thinking about how he is the most perfect boyfriend i could ever have asked for. i’d be content after spending a long day with him, excited to spend the next day with him as well.

and during the day i wouldn’t be wondering why he wasn’t texting me. if anything, i’d be wondering why he was texting me considering we were literally hanging out, together, at that very moment!

i would trust him. i’d be walking on cloud nine. i’d be content. i’d be...happy.

now, in no way am i saying that you need to be happy 24/7, or dancing on air, or feeling intense butterflies in your stomach. you’re allowed to have other emotions. you’re allowed to feel anger, you’re allowed to break down and cry! you’re allowed to have bad days. but if you’re feeling these negative emotions about your desire, i want you to try your hardest to release them. i don’t think any of us want to have breakdowns over our manifestations and cry about them, but if it happens, it happens. just pick yourself up afterwards--or stop it before it even really begins, trust me, it gets easier to do this--and maybe do a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, and remind yourself why you’re on this journey in the first place. once again using the sp example, it’s because you love your sp. because they are perfect for you! they make you happy. you love their smile, their laugh, the witty conversations you have with each other. you love being in their arms. you love when they’re in your arms! they did something that made you fall in love with them, or want to be in a relationship with them. what was it? focus on that.

enough with the sammy ingram (i could go on a whole rant about her) style affirmations. with the “he’s going to fucking text me, he has no choice, he’s my fucking boyfriend and he does what i say.” like....ew?? i used to say shit like this, and it was really what started making me resent my sp. i was ordering him around in my head, creating this weird dynamic between us (which, he wasn’t even aware was there), and getting mad when he wasn’t doing what i was ordering him to do. looking back, it was borderline psychotic. it was just turning it into me against him, and that’s not what i wanted at all. i want to be in a relationship with him, with mutual love. i don’t want to be his boss, or his mom, or his fucking military sergeant!! (i don’t even know if that was the proper term bc fuck the military, but u guys know what i mean lmfaooo)

(disclaimer if u use these types of affirmations and they work for you, go for it. but i used them for a while and they just weren’t it for me. carry on)

i guess what i’m trying to say is, those affirmations weren’t making me feel good. they weren’t making me feel like a “boss ass bitch”. they were making me feel...like a bitch. and strangely, powerless. i’d say these affirmations, or just bland ones where i wasn’t necessarily demanding my sp to throw himself at my feet and kiss my shoes and tell me he is nothing without me, and ultimately, if i wasn’t feeling resentment, i was feeling...nothing.

once again, i want to make this so so so clear, you don’t need to be happy to manifest. but my belief? if your affirmations aren’t making you feel joy, or excitement, or contentment, then what’s the fucking point? if you think of your desire, and don’t feel positive feelings about it, then you might have lost your way a little.

don’t worry!! it’s an easy fix. easy, and even...fun? rewarding? comforting? i just want you to take some time--laying in bed at night is the perfect time to do this in my experience--to think about why you want your desire so badly. do you want money? think of how great life is going to be once you have it. of all the stuff you’re going to buy, for yourself, and maybe even for others. don’t focus on the problems you want to fix with it right now. think of that clothing item you’ve had your eye on, or that book you’ve been wanting to read but haven’t felt like “wasting” money on. think of how excited you are to buy those things, because you’re going to! think of the good. not the bad.

remember: you create more of what you focus on. focus on the good, get the good. focus more on the bad...get more of the bad.

your manifestation is done. it is created. it is on it’s way to you. it is here! all there’s left to do is feel excited. it’ll be here any moment now, how fucking exciting is that! it’s safe for you to be happy. it’s safe for you to focus on the feelings you would have if you had it, rather than focus on affirming specifically to bring it to you. it is safe to be happy.

i used to affirm solely for contact, all day every day, and sometimes i’d get it. but it’d be short lived, my sp would be distant, etc. but then once i started focusing on truly living in the end and basking in my love for my sp, thinking about how perfect and amazing he is, i not only got contact (without having to specifically affirm for it), but he was actively engaged in our conversations, making up new topics to keep the conversation going, asking me about and expressing interest in my hobbies and interests, bringing up and reminiscing on old memories of our previous relationship, complimenting me, flirting with me, asking me to hang out, etc. shit i was not getting when i was “he is so fucking in love with me and he’s texting me right fucking now”-ing all day long. i started focusing on how amazing and perfect and good to me he was, and that’s exactly what i got in my reality. who would’ve thunk?

and you know what? yeah, he fucking loves me. he misses me and he wants to be with me. but that’s a given. but that doesn’t fucking matter. i am the only person who matters in my reality!! sure he loves me, but do i love him??? that’s what the universe wants to know. that’s what truly fucking matters. the universe brings me my desires. so i’m gonna fucking desire it!

guys, please trust me on this. just try it out, with whatever you’re manifesting. this could be what you’re missing. this could bring your manifestation to you. i promise, if you’re like i was and feel resententment or anger or hatred towards your desire, this is going to make you feel so fucking good. just stick with this for a week or two. i promise, you’ll see movement.

and remember, there is no one to change but self. don’t change them (or it), change your perception of them (or it).

let’s make manifesting fun again!!! it’s the perfect tool to bring happiness into your life. so fucking let it!!!!

so no, you don’t need to be happy in order to manifest. but....maybe, just maybe, prioritizing your happiness isn’t such a bad thing. i mean, who doesn’t want to be happy?

#law of assumption #manifestation #manifesting

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jackrrabbit · 4 years ago

Text

Runaways /// Dabi x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You were like an older sister to Dabi back when the two of you were teen runaways together; now that he’s found you as an adult, it’s not going to be so easy to get rid of him.

A/N: I could write a term paper on all of Dabi’s pathologies in this fic...I forgot how much I love writing smutty angst. Good shit 👌

I was planning on making this a ficlet so it’s kinda structured like that even though it ended up a full-length piece. Also, Dabi says some bullshit about sex work that I absolutely do not agree with or condone so please keep that in mind.

➠ see also: [homeowners association]

Tags/warnings: Dabi victimizes you, noncon/dubcon, light yandere, threats, cheating, NTR kinda?, mentions of past sex work, degradation, rough sex (breath play, impact play, crying), mild violence, very brief mentions of past child abuse in the Todoroki household, sad stuff/angst idk lol, *Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood plays in the background*

Dabi would know you anywhere.

You’re different now, which makes sense. It’s been years. Your old uniform of raggedy denim and hand-me-down leather has been replaced with a prim linen dress, designer label at the collar. You used to dye your hair religiously (it was neon pink when he saw you last) but now it’s styled back to your natural shade, a color he only saw back then when your roots grew out. You smell good, expensive. It does take him a second to recognize you without smudged pencil eyeliner drawn under your eyes like in the old days, but once he catches your gaze the realization is immediate.

It’s you. You. You.

You recognize him too, but your reaction is different—shock, then panic; you tug the arm of the man at your side, urging him to walk faster so you can pass Dabi on the sidewalk. The rejection stings for a second, but he isn’t too surprised. You did abandon him, after all.

Dabi doesn’t let it bother him. You’re not going to get away that easy. He pulls you into conversation, grinning when you reluctantly introduce him to your companion (who is, apparently, your husband) as an old friend from school. You didn’t go to school—Dabi knows that, and you know that, but your husband doesn’t. Which means your husband isn’t aware of your sordid past as a runaway.

This is going to be fun.

Once he knows you’re in town, he doesn’t have much trouble finding you. Your husband is a very wealthy man, well-known in this city now that he’s moved here. So this is what you’ve been up to all these years? Shacking up with some ugly motherfucker who’s at least 20 years your senior because he can afford to dress you up in pretty things and take you on overseas vacations? Dabi has to admit, he wouldn’t have thought it of you. Back when he knew you, you were so sincere, such an idealist, even in your darkest nights.

Then again…you always were willing to get your hands dirty in exchange for a warm meal and a place to sleep. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you think.

Dabi comes to your house in the middle of the day when your husband’s at work and you’re stuck at home because that’s what you are now, a housewife. From a cocksucking whore to a pretty housewife with a dirty little secret. He’s getting hard just thinking about it as he watches your internal debate on whether to let him in or not. Eventually guilt wins out and you usher him inside, hoping the neighbors didn’t see a known villain lurking on your doorstep.

You make Dabi coffee (and aww, you remember exactly how he likes it). He gets you to talking, and you don’t seen surprised to learn about his current line of work; when he presses you, you admit that you’ve been following him in the news. Your life, in comparison, has been wholly uninteresting: you met a man, he proposed, and you married him. Very little has happened to you since. After a long silence you timidly apologize to Dabi for leaving him behind when you two were teenagers, and he tells you he understands.

He doesn’t forgive you.

Overall, things are good, he tells you. But you know, sometimes he misses the old days. Being on the run with you, stealing food from gas stations, breaking into fancy summer homes and pretending the two of you lived there. Stitching up each other’s cuts, because one of you had always gotten in a fight in the past few days. Sometimes he still has dreams about the smell of the balm you used on his fresh burns…and your cool hands, smoothing gently across the tender skin on his face, but he doesn’t say that.

You look down into your monogrammed coffee mug and tell him you know what he means.

When you turn your head like that, Dabi can see the tiny dots running up the side of your ear where your old piercings have scarred over from lack of use. Do you remember when he gave them to you? You did his first, running a needle through the lonely flame of your lighter (he offered to use his quirk, but it was still hard for him to control then so you declined) and then threading the metal through his ear. You promised it would only hurt for a second, and you were right, so he let you do the others.

Then you offered to let him do yours. Just one on each ear—you already had an impressive collection of piercings, but you wanted to let him return the favor, so he did. You were older and more experienced and had lived on the streets for longer, so when he held the needle in his hand and heard your voice saying you trusted him, it was the first time he ever thought of you as fragile, something delicate, something that he was capable of harming.

He chose twin helix piercings for you, cresting the shell of each ear, silver band rings to match his. When they were done you pulled him to a mirror and asked him what he thought. It hadn’t been long since he got the worst burns on his face (the ones under his eyes, wrapping around his chin and down his neck) and he was still getting used to the knowledge that the ugly, wrinkled scars were never going to heal. “I look like…” he started.

A monster. A freak. A victim.

“A badass,” you said. “You look fucking cool. Any asshole who wants to pick a fight with you will take one look and know you’ve been through worse shit than whatever they can dish out, and that’s something to be proud of.”

Now that Dabi thinks about it, he probably wanted you even then.

…But the longer he reminisces, the more nostalgia’s going to distract him. He came here for a reason, and it wasn’t to have coffee with you and talk about the good old days. What he’s about to take from you—what he’s about to make you give—is long overdue.

You’ve still got a little fight in you. Dabi likes that. But you’ve gone soft, filling out and losing muscle in places where you used to be lean and hard from the constant running and fighting of your old lifestyle. Besides, even if you were as strong as you’d been back then, he’d still be stronger than you—he’s a man now, and it’s incredible how small and weak you seem now that he can look at you as a man.

Were your punches always this light? No way…and your wrists couldn’t have always been this delicate. It’s really no trouble at all for him to wrestle you down to the couch and pin you there so he can tear off your stupid little housewife dress and tug your panties down past your ankles.

Once he’s got you fully naked, though, you pretty much give up trying to fight him off. It’s sad, really—like you’re remembering the past, remembering all the times you let other men hold you and fuck you just so you could have enough money to take yourself and Dabi to McDonalds for a few days. And now look, you’re plenty well-fed, but Dabi’s the one holding you down against your will. Funny how things change like that.

He does appreciate your submission, since it gives him the chance to get a decent look at you. The years have been kind—you look so much healthier than you used to. No more visible ribcage stretching out your skin; no more unhealthy pallor from going outside only at night. Your hands are as soft and manicured as if you’ve never done a day’s work in your life, a far cry from the bitten nails and bloody knuckles of your youth. It’s good to see you like this, and he lingers for a second, drinking in the sight of you and committing you to memory.

Dabi’s pictured this moment for years. He used to think he’d savor it, be sweet with you, slow and gentle to show you what you were missing with the trashy guys you used to hang out with. But now, hey—he’s the trashy one, he’s the one who wants to hurt you and own you and ruin you. May as well act like it.

Your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?

You’re unbelievably tight for a former whore. Dabi can barely hold out when he first pushes into you, licking the tears off your cheeks when apparently it hurts too much for you to keep up a brave face. It takes real effort to fuck himself all the way into you, pushing past the tense squeeze of your muscles while you…well, you’re not exactly wet, but he’ll get you there. As soon as his hips are grinding up against yours, he’s hitching your legs up on his shoulders and pounding you into your stuffy antique couch so deeply that he thinks it might splinter into pieces underneath the two of you.

God, you’re so, so, tight. Dabi feels like a virgin with his cock buried inside you, biting his lip so he doesn’t cum in thirty seconds and thrusting into you with a rhythm that comes from nothing less than pure animal instinct. And you’re getting into it too. Can you tell that your pleading and begging him to get off you is turning into moaning? Can you feel your hips bucking weakly back against his, reverting to the position of the submissive bitch your body remembers even if your mind has tried to forget?

It’s perfect, right and good and perfect, everything Dabi’s been waiting for since he first knew what it was to want someone—no, not just someone. You. It’s always been you. A person never forgets their first love, right? It’s perfect, except—except you won’t look at him, you keep looking off to the side and sniffling, and that’s not going to cut it. So he slows down and wrenches your head back to center and makes you kiss him, sliding his tongue over yours and trying to see if he can feel the place where you used to have a piercing there, too. It’s kind of thrilling, actually—wondering whenever his face dips into yours if you’re going to bite him, if he’ll come back from you with blood in his mouth.

He’s only got to thumb over your clit a couple times before you’re clamping down on him, your body begging to be used and abused. Your husband hasn’t been treating you right, though Dabi doubts the old bastard can even get it up without a blue pill. Sure, you look like a sweet little doll, so darling and delicate and breakable, but Dabi knows you better than that. You’re strong, you can take it. He knows you want it rough, so that’s how he’ll give it to you—and hey, hey, he can feel your cunt quivering around him—you’re cumming, aren’t you? So you like it. You like it.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long before, but when you cum and tighten and squeal so high he thinks you could lose your voice, the tension in his abdomen rises up and he digs his fingers into your hips and—shit, you’re saying something, what are you saying? You’re pleading, begging him not to cum inside—but, ohhhhhh fuck he can’t help it, he can’t, he can’t, he’s cumming all the way deep into your tight little snatch, cockhead jutting up at your cervix, fucking his semen all the way through you until your slit is smeared white from top to bottom.

Stop crying. Dabi’s sick of hearing you cry.

You’re still pretty nimble, even though your current exercise regimen probably doesn’t extend beyond periodic jogs around your neighborhood and weekly pilates with all the other bored trophy wives. He’s kind of surprised when as soon as he lifts himself off of you, you have the strength to roll off the couch and scramble around on the floor for your clothing.

You don’t say anything, which he wasn’t expecting. You don’t scream at him, demand that he leave, or ask him how he could do this to you after everything the two of you went through together. You probably still think of yourself as an older sister when it comes to him.

When you’d first met the scarred kid trying and failing to live off the streets, you knew he wasn’t cut out for this. He’d known pain before, plenty of pain (icy-blue fire roasting the skin off his face—spiral fracture from callused hands twisting his arm behind his back—cold, aching muscles after what he thinks is the fifth hour spent locked in a closet), but he’d never known hunger. Hunger was a different kind of beast, one that would chew the kid up and spit him out and leave him broken if you didn’t take him under your wing, so you did.

It wasn’t like you had much of anything to spare, but you made it work. For a few years. He didn’t talk at first, but he took what you gave him, so you gave him what you could: food, if you had it; a place to sleep at night; the knowledge you’d gathered in your own years as a runaway on how he was supposed to survive in a world that didn’t care whether he lived or rotted away in a gutter. You cared.

Until you didn’t.

‘Going to be traveling alone for a while. Don’t wait for me. I’m sorry,’ your note had read. You left it in his backpack along with $43 in cash—not much, but he knew it was more than you could afford. It was all you had.

And now you have all of this! Don’t you feel lucky? You have the rich husband who barely looks at you, the big house with so many empty unused rooms it makes him sick, more food than you could possibly eat in one lifetime. All of that, and you also have Dabi’s semen leaking out of your cunt. It’s a real rags-to-riches story, he thinks.

Dabi picks a cigarette out of his jacket and you stop fixing up the buttons on your dress to ask him not to light it inside. How will you explain the smell to your husband? Every move you make, every syllable that comes out of your mouth, is weighed down by despair. You look like you’ve been beaten.

He lights the cigarette anyway.

///

Before he had you the first time, Dabi thought once would be enough. Pretty naive, huh?

He makes it his mission to fuck you in every room of your husband’s gluttonously enormous mansion (what with your history Dabi has a hard time thinking of the house as yours, and considering the way you tiptoe around and seem like you’re afraid to move so much as a vase, he suspects you feel the same). There’s a lot of rooms.

When he shows up at your door again you don’t even bother to hear him out, instead just trying to shut it on him, but he forces his way in. You wouldn’t want to make him mad, would you? Not when he’s got such a filthy secret hanging over your head? Will your husband keep paying for your designer shopping trips when he knows you’re a street rat who used to steal everything she wore? Will he still kiss you goodnight when Dabi tells him you used to wrap those pretty lips around strangers’ cocks for money?

If you want Dabi to keep quiet, you’re going to have to convince him the best way you know how. A cockwhore is a cockwhore. That’s not the kind of stain you get to wipe away with time and distance and expensive clothing.

In the kitchen: standing up, your back to his front and your hands barely holding you up on the counter, so hard and rough and deep that the dishes are rattling in the pantry. One of your teacups falls out of the glass china cabinet and shatters into a million fragments in a four foot radius over the tiled floor. Neither of you notice until after. Blunt red lines press themselves into the tops of your thighs where he’s shoving your body into the edge of the counter and there are bruises on your tits from how hard he’s groping you.

In the dining room: sitting on the edge of the table, one of your legs hiked up beside you and the other on a chair while Dabi kneels on the ground in front of you, his head between your thighs and his tongue flicking over your pussy. You start off thinking that you’re going to have to sanitize the entire mahogany surface before you can eat off it again and then he licks his lips and sucks on your throbbing clit and you don’t really think about anything else after that.

In your husband’s study: doggy-style on the floor in front of the fireplace, facedown, his body folded over yours, pressing you so deep into the tacky lion-skin rug that you can taste it. He sighs in your ear—actually, you’re not sure if it’s a sigh or a growl—and his hand comes up to cover yours. You feel the metal stitches and the rough burned skin scraping on your own and it reminds you that it’s him. It’s Dabi.

(A few days after his 13th birthday, the Dabi you used to know told you that he was going to dye his hair—he wanted to be unrecognizable, and you understood, so you found some old scissors and stole hair dye from the pharmacy and you spent three long hours chopping his hair into rough spikes and painting it black. When you washed the dye out of his hair in the sink, your hands were stained inky black too. When he saw, he looked worried and weaved his fingers in with yours and asked if the dye would hurt your skin if it stayed on too long.

And you looked back at this kid—small for his age then, burned by his own quirk, trying so hard to look older and tougher than any 13-year-old should have to be, and you thought to yourself, I would die for you.)

Now you hear Dabi growling out your name and squeezing your hand as he reaches his climax and you think, I would kill you if I could.

///

Dabi saves the master bedroom for last.

Your husband is hosting a party at your house. Dabi knows because you begged him not to come today, looking up at him with those doe-like eyes, offering things you never would have offered if it weren’t important to you that he stay away on this particular evening. But he still comes to crash it. He arrives just minutes before your husband does, and you have barely enough time to tuck him away on the dark bedroom balcony and pull the curtains closed before your husband is opening the door and greeting you.

Dabi settles himself into one of the tasteful Adirondack chairs on the balcony and listens to your voice, or at least what he can hear of it through the sliding glass door. You’re sweeter with your husband than you are with Dabi, and he should’ve known you’d be, but it still makes him hate your husband more than he already did.

On the other hand, there’s something strained and high and nervous in the way you’re speaking. Probably because your husband is standing about twenty feet away from the man you’re cheating on him with.

It takes a while for the two of you to dress for the party, but finally Dabi hears you tell your husband that you’d like to take a little longer to get ready and bid him goodbye. “Love you,” you say to the old man as he leaves the room, so casually Dabi might not have heard it if he wasn’t listening.

Then you’re opening the door and ushering him inside and telling him anxiously that he has to get out before anyone sees him. But, oh, you look nice like this, dolled up in your evening gown and makeup and diamonds, trying to pull him to the door even though you must know by now that he’s not going to leave it there. Instead of following, he backs you up onto the bed and peels down the straps of your dress and slides his hands up under the skirt, and all the while he can’t stop thinking about what you said to your husband.

You used to say that to Dabi.

The first time it was an accident—you’d mentioned it off-hand during a night when it was snowing and his unnaturally high body temperature was the only thing keeping the two of you alive. “God, I love you,” you’d said, draping your arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close to share his heat.

It had stunned him and you could probably tell. Maybe the next few times were just you taking pity on a kid who had never been told so casually and so simply that he was loved. But eventually you meant it, the little love you’s before you went to sleep or when one of you went off to do something alone for a few days—a familial love borne of mutual reliance. For the years Dabi was a runaway with you, you were the only person he could trust, and he knows the feeling was mutual.

Now he wants you to tell him you love him again.

It would be hot, wouldn’t it? You telling Dabi you love him while he forces you into a mating press on the bed you share with your husband. Isn’t that hot? You’re never going to be able to sleep on these sheets again without remembering his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, his cock filling you in ways you haven’t been filled since you were 19.

How are you gonna lay next to your husband in this sad cold bed? ‘Cause that old fuck isn’t touching you, Dabi knows that much—if he was, he’d’ve noticed by now that you’re always covered in bite marks and hickeys that he didn’t give you. How are you gonna sleep at night knowing what a nasty slut you are, telling another man you love him?

So say it. Say you love him.

Oh, you’re going to be like that, aren’t you? What did he tell you about being a fucking brat when he’s talking to you? See if you’re still so defiant when he’s got his hand stroking the length of that pretty throat and then sealing down on it, squeezing gently on the veins running up the sides of your neck, not too hard, but enough that you’re probably getting a little dizzy while he continues to fuck into you. Does it hurt? Your face is turning pink. Uh-uh-uh, don’t try to pull his hand off, or he’ll show you just how good he is with his quirk these days.

You’re trying to choke out the words but you can’t quite make them make sense. There’s something endearing about the way your whimpers vibrate through the skin of Dabi’s palm, how he can hear you as well as feeling you. Oh—could you say his name too? He knows you’re feeling all fucked-out and wet and sloppy, every moan rising and falling in time with his cock stretching your pussy open, but can’t you give it a little more effort? He’s sure you can get his name out if you really try.

And if you’re not going to cooperate, Dabi may as well just dig the heel of his knuckle into your windpipe, because you really do tighten up so deliciously when you cough and sputter like that. Fuck, if you keep doing that, he’s going to cum, gonna cum right here in your syrupy pussy and spill it all over your marriage bed—but no, he wants to hear you say it first, so when you’re gagging and turning red and your eyes are watering he finally stops choking you, loosening his grip just enough that his hand is resting on your neck in a lover’s touch. It takes you a second and your voice is so hoarse he can barely hear it, but then you’re speaking and something jumps in his chest—

“I…I love—love y-you, Touya!” you sob. “I love you! I—love you, Touya—Touya—Touya—!”

And ah fuck it’s almost exactly right, your voice saying you love him, saying his real name, a name he hasn’t heard for years because you’re the only one who really knows it anymore—but you’re crying, real heavy sobs while you gulp in frantic lungfuls of oxygen. Your ribcage is heaving underneath him and—god, fuck—your guts are clenching, sucking down on every inch of his cock, every vein—

—oh shit fuck fuck he’s cumming, and he presses his face into your neck, into your hair, kissing you and thinking I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you—

—please stay, forever.

///

When he’s done, he goes for another round just to make sure you’re going to have cum dripping down your thighs when you go back to the party. No panties, unless you want him to walk through the grand foyer with all the other guests on his way out.

You don’t look at him as you fix your dress and your hair and wipe at your smeared makeup. With your eyeliner rubbed down to the bottom of your eyes, Dabi’s reminded a little of how you used to look—and the reminder is doubled when you slide your legs across the side of the bed and limp over to your vanity, walking hesitantly, your hips rocking from side to side. Damn, did he fuck you that hard?

Reminds him of the old days, you shuffling back to the hideout with that same awkward pain in your gait, purple marks around your neck, and a dim smile decorating your face—for his sake. Oh, and cash in your pockets. You’d tell him that the two of you were going out to eat that night and refuse to let him look at the injuries. God, it made him angry, it still makes him angry just thinking about it—angry at the men who bought you for treating you like that, angry at you for letting them. Angry at himself for not being old enough or strong enough or rich enough to stop them.

Anger, yes…and other things too. There had been a sick, insidious part of him that wanted to be in their position. He’d hated himself for it back then, until you left and the desire to punish you for abandoning him got twisted up with the desire to own you and keep you his. Maybe if he let himself think about it, he’d still hate himself for what he’s doing to you.

By now, you’re too good at covering up the bruises. A sweep of foundation and powder passes over each hickey he left on your throat and it’s like he never touched you. You have to push him off the bed so you can strip the sheets and replace them. When you’re done, you tell him to wait a few minutes after you leave to sneak out the back and he makes another half-joke about joining the party and introducing himself to your old man—

—and you shove him up against the wall with all the strength left in you, wrap your hand around his neck, and dig your fingernails under the line of piercings in his cheek. If he even looks at your husband, if he even thinks about it, you’ll rip his goddamn face open, you tell him in a low snarl.

It’s an empty threat (you and he both know who would win in a physical altercation) but there’s real hatred behind it. Dabi hasn’t seen that kind of fire in your eyes since he found out you became a trophy wife. It makes him want to have you again so he does, pulling your arms away from his face, standing and holding you up against the door to your bedroom, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him to keep from falling.

He’s lubed up by his own cum, and the wet squelching of your pussy just reminds him what a mess you’re going to be when you return to high society tonight. Maybe your husband will be able to smell it on you—the cum, the sex, the other man who’s been keeping his darling wife warm while he’s at work.

Well, probably not. If that stupid fucking cuckold hasn’t figured it out by now, there’s not much of a chance he’ll get it on his own. As Dabi sinks into your tight, gummy cunt again, he decides that he might just have to help the process along. A man deserves to know if his wife is being unfaithful, right?

///

Your husband’s office phone number is written on a post-it note that’s tacked to the desk of his study. It takes Dabi 40 minutes and $30 to buy a burner cell phone, leave a message on the man’s voicemail, and toss the burner in the kitchen trash at your house while you’re in the shower.

The message is short and straightforward. Dabi introduces himself as ‘the man who’s sleeping with your wife’, describes the floor plan of your husband’s house and what position he fucked you in for each room, and finally finishes it off with the evidence—the precise size and location of every hickey he’s left on your body that will still be visible by the time your husband returns from work.

Dabi almost wishes your husband had picked up the call—he’d’ve had a good time explaining in pornographic detail the way your tits look under those too-formal dresses, the way you moan when you cum in his mouth, the way you told him you loved him while he choked you out—with your husband in the house, no less. But this is fine too.

Besides, it’ll be so fucking funny if someone else at your husband’s company hears the message before he does.

///

Whore. Your husband called you a whore.

You’ve been called a whore a lot, actually. More than most people. You should be used to it by now. But it’s different when your husband says it. Your husband, the man who rescued you from a life of poverty and starvation, the man who has given you everything you own, the man who slid a ring onto your finger under a wedding arch and promised to love you in good times and in bad. The man you’ve almost convinced yourself you love back.

He called you a whore and slapped you when you tried to explain yourself and shoved you out the door and locked it. You can still hear his voice telling you the only place he wants to see your face again is in a casket.

So that’s why when Dabi comes to collect you, you’re hugging your knees to your chest on your front porch in your shiny lace-edged slip nightdress, hair in a mess around your head and your lip bleeding onto your chin. Your feet are so cold—your husband didn’t even give you time to put shoes on before he threw you out.

The night is cool and dark but the porch light buzzes on for half a minute when Dabi climbs up the steps to come crouch next to you on the doorstep. You try not to look at him, but he tilts your face toward his, electric-blue eyes skimming over the red mark and blue-black discoloration blossoming across your cheekbone; the blood drying on your split lip.

Dabi asks calmly if your husband hit you, and you nod.

Good, he tells you, and his body lights up blue in a roiling cloud of flames. He’s been waiting for an excuse to kill that old fuck.

The fire is like lightning, bright and ghostly in the darkness. The crackling of the flame eats away at the heavy silence of the night and you crawl back from the dry heat of it, sure you can feel your eyebrows singeing from being near. Dabi looks different backed by the inferno—bigger, crueler. Frightening. He reaches at the door but you shout at him to stop.

Why? Don’t you think he should suffer, after what he did to you?

But your fists clench by your sides and you set your teeth and you tell Dabi that if he’s going to kill your husband, he may as well set himself on fire too, because it’s his fault in the first place. And he’s done a lot worse to you than one slap.

Dabi waits a moment, searching your alarmed expression for something, but whatever he’s hoping for you don’t give him and the flames go out. The air smells like smoke and his hands are hot—not burning, but uncomfortably hot—when he kneels in front of you and rubs a thumb over your bruised cheek.

“(Y/N)—” Dabi starts, and then he can’t find a way to finish. So he just gathers you up in his arms and carries you bridal-style down into the lawn and to the driveway, where he’s got a car waiting to take you guys back to his place. You don’t resist, which surprises him again. He thought you’d push away at him, scream, get angry—he thought he’d have to convince you. Or force you, like he usually does. But you just let him deposit you in the seat next to the driver’s.

Before he gets in, he asks you if you need anything from your house. He can go get it for you. See if any balding motherfucker in his forties can stop him. But you just shake your head.

“There’s nothing,” you say blankly. “I have nothing. I…have nothing.”

Just like back then.

“Not nothing,” Dabi tells you, turning forward to the road so you can��t see the look on his face. “You have me.”

///

In the end, he does understand. He understood it the second he held that goodbye note in his hands and knew you were lost to him.

You were 17 when you met him and 19 when you left—hardly older than a child yourself. You barely had enough to provide for your own needs, much less a teenage boy’s. By the time you left, Dabi was more than capable of surviving on his own and already falling into ugly crowds, gangs and syndicates who saw money in his quirk, people you’d sacrificed a lot to keep him away from. He no longer needed you, and it was time for you two to go your separate ways. Dabi understands that.

But now you need him. Just like you needed him when you were fucking strangers for food money; like you needed him when you ran away; like you needed him when you got trapped in this mundane, sparkling-clean life, a life that was never going to fit you. Only this time—this time, Dabi’s old enough for you. He’s not a kid anymore, he’s a man. He’s got an apartment and a good job (well, kind of) and he’s got money. He can provide for you the way you’ve always needed him to.

Dabi’s going to take care of you, and you’re never, ever going to leave.

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ryoryeonggu · 3 years ago

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To begin with, I’ve never been related to any characters like Jang Han Seo. It was oblivious that he was suffering from depression, anxiety and PTSD resulting from the abuse that he had been endured at home, but it seemed like he had the sign of social phobia as well. As we could see in the drama, his life completely revolved around his brother, he had no friends, no interested in dating or attracting to anyone (if we can count Han Seung Hyuk as his “friend” since he might be closer to him than anyone other than Han Seok and before Vincenzo). It might be because of the tittle as The Chairman of Babel and being born in a wealthy family which make him aware that people wanted to get close to him only for money or taking advantage of him to get what they wanted. But the things is, he seemed to avoid any chance of building relationships that have the potential to be more intimate or more complex than basic communication, rejecting even the slightest touch, not just with Han Seok - the one he's afraid of but almost everyone else.

For example, back when Vincenzo (the one he became extremely close to later on) was only a stranger and he pretended to be a fan to approach Han Seo. He appeared to be extremely enthusiastic and just only showed the want of touching Han Seo, Han Seo immediately flinched away and made a clearly uncomfortable expression. He looked at his hand like a gun pointing at him.

Example 2, when Han Seung Hyuk - the one who had close relationship than anyone else besides his brother at that time, just about to go closer to him and he already gave the big “Don’t touch me bitch” energy and make a gesture for him to go away.

This is the first time he had met his sister-in-law (applying for both his blood and adopted brothers). It didn’t go well.

Han Seo himself had proven to be an extremely clingy person and liked to actively skinship towards the people he was close to, but for others, when being touched, his body will immediately generate rejection and fear as a reflex.

Jang Han Seo had another trait that he was completely used to people ignoring him, not taking him seriously, but if someone liked him, complimented him, spoke well of him, then he didn't know how to react naturally as if his brain was immediately shut down. I totally understand this, because I have the same problem, if someone insults me even with the most hurtful things, I'll be like "you say nothing that I don’t already know. I also insulted myself like that every day so we have the same opinion bro” xD But if people compliment me with kind words, I will be extremely surprised, even scared and panic. I will be worried sick about how to make people continue to think well of me and what if I do something wrong later that makes them no longer like me. But of course, when the anxiety reaches a certain level, my mood will turn into: "Nevermind, let's care about it later. Who give a f*ck if they like me or not" lol But Jang Han Seo wasn’t like that. He remembered and held on to the praises of others stubbornly. Many people think that Han Seo betrayed Han Seok just because of Vincenzo, but in fact, the first person to put that thought into Han Seo's head was Han Seung Hyuk. He did not convince him with the benefits, fame, and money of being the true chairman of Babel, but that how he, on behalf of Babel’s member and as an employee of the company, valued and needed him. He hyped him up as the "sharp, ambitious and not murderous" ideally chairman, the only hope of Babel’s bright future and the only person that the people in the company could depend on. Before that, although he was really angry that Han Seok constantly rejected his offers, Han Seo kept saying "Are you telling me to betray my brother? Do you even know what you are saying?" showed that he completely accepted that he wasn’t able to run the company and continued to live in Han Seok's shadow, until Mr. Han opened a new vision for him. Han Seung Hyuk's words couldn’t tell that he was really meant it or not, and maybe Han Seo already knew he was untrustworthy, but it sparked the thought that he could actually do better than his brother and be capable of turning Babel into something good. When negotiating with Vincenzo, he mentioned not only that he wanted Vincenzo to spare his life but also Babel (not just the company itself or its property, but also the employees whose life depended on the company’s survival) Then Vincenzo came. Before Vin hyung appeared, Jang Han Seok was completely Han Seo's ideal model for him to look up to and learn from. He yelled at people’s face and throw hockey balls to their stomach to show his authority (like how his brother beated the shit out of him with a hockey stick when he messed up in the previous episode), making people afraid so they could listen to him (but most of his efforts failed miserably because he just looked like an adorable bratty angry kitten). Then Vin hyung appeared, encouraged him to study harder and gave him a completely different role model, the man he wanted to become. And that's when he started to change, showing his true self, he let his hair down, started to wear clothes that looked comfortable and youthful, laughed more often and looked more alive. After his brother went to prison, he turned into a friendly, gentle and loving chairman and didn't shout at anyone anymore xD Continued to episode 19, when Vincenzo mentioned the possibility of Han Seok being released from prison early and would come to him first, advising him to fly away to a foreign country, Han Seo, although trying to hide it, clearly shows his fear (of course when you've been terrified of something all your life, fear can't disappear within a day or two), but still refuses to run away because "I made a promise to you." Even when Vincenzo made it clear that "you can keep your promise to me later" and still tried to convince him, Han Seo was still determined to stay and fight to the end. Simply because Vincenzo showed his belief in Han Seo, that he had potential, he could change and become a better person, a trustworthy person that could count on, and because of that, he would do it everything to live up to that expectation (which he has proven he could - or at least tried to - do everything, except murders xD). Others' faith in him is Han Seo's biggest motivation, because he's probably used to being seen as a useless person without any value, a piece of trash that doesn't deserve to exist, not only for his brother, but also for his parents, who see his birth as an accident, a mistake of a casual cheating hook up, not a miracle result of their desire to have a child. That is also the reason why Han Seok completely failed to convince his little brother to betray Vincenzo by promising to give him all of Babel, it could be seen in Han Seo's reaction that there was not a bit of greed or joy, but a complete shock at his brother’s brutal request, and he still didn't move at all. It was only when Vincenzo took the initiative to kneel and asked him to do what Han Seok told him to do, Han Seo finally was able to stand up, and when Vincenzo said "It's okay", implying that he would’ve fully understood if Han Seo had chose to kill him for survival, in that moment he already knew what he had to do, even at the cost of the life that he treasured the most. Because what Han Seo longed from the beginning was never Babel, but rather to become a kind of meaningful existence, not only for others but also for himself.

#jang han seo #jang han seok #vincenzo #jang brothers #the jang bros #kwak dong yeon #vincenzo kdrama #han seung hyuk #vincenzo cassano #jang hanseo #jang han seo best boy #jang han seo deserves better

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lostmyshadesanon · 3 years ago

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Happy Birthday Felix 🎂🎁 🎉🎊

@teyvat-writer

🦊 - Anon here!!! It's finally the day. I hope.

I have no idea what time zone you live in so I'm posting this a bit early just in case!

If it's still the 28th when you see this. Don't open it!

Let the anticipation build!

This should be the last part for our poor hydro archon, but I'm sure the most anticipated. Let's hope we can do it justice.

Mindbroken?Hydro!Archon!Male!Reader x FoulLegacy!Childe

Wouldn't it be funny if I put a rickroll here?

Or just an error message, lol.

But anyway moving on.

You feebly twitched as you felt Childe fuck you with his entire fist in your gaping hole. Leisurely opening and closing his hand as he ground his knuckles into your swollen prostate, and commented idly on your puffy rim.

By this point you could barely even feel when another orgasm was ripped from your soiled body, and your cock jerked underneath you.

Childe had been at this for hours. He hadn't been inside you or orgasmed since the first round, but he seemed determined to be able to shove both of his fists in your aching hole regardless of how long it took.

When you had the capacity to think between orgasms you wondered why your guards had not coming looking for you after all this time, and hoped that if the Fatui had restrained them that they hadn't died, but just been incapacitated.

Though you were never able to think long before another orgasm was dragged out of you. Combined with the saccharine sweet voice mockingly praising you. Your head was almost completely empty and body numb to the pleasure you were being put through.

You could only gurgle faintly when Childe finally got his way and stretched you enough that both his balled up fists could fit into your gaping hole. He didn't remain there for long quickly pulling both his hands free, as be grinned in glee at your ruined hole.

"I think you're finally ready, my darling patron!" He crowed, lightly petting your back as if you were a prized pet who had completed a new trick.

Staring at him through dazed and bleary eyes you wondered. "Ready for what? What more could you do to ruin me?"

He must have the ability to read your mind, or long ago you had lost the stoic control you had over your facial expression. Childe bared his fangs in a mean smile. "Though I made sure the preparation was pleasurable you've barely reacted! That's quite unfair considering how many orgasms you've had compared to me.", The demon masquerading as a man pouted. "So to make sure you're still paying attention I've brought this!"

Childe brought out a potion bottle with some unknown blue liquid inside. With a loud pop he uncorked it, tilted your hips high enough up to send sparks of pain through your spine, and promptly shoved it inside you so it could empty unhindered into your defenseless body.

There was only a moment where you felt the strange liquid mix with the remnants of your favored's cum were you debated on the odd sensation reminded you of, before it felt like it ignited inside you, and you screamed.

It was like liquid fire had been poured into you. The disassociation you had been able to reach banished like morning fog, as your nerves lit up like a livewire. You start to moan like a bitch in heat drool leaking from your mouth as the fire spread across your body. Making you feel every pulse of your insides and cock, your hole desperately grasping at the bottle inside it, but it was too small!

What had Childe done to you?! That something the size of a wine bottle would feel too small??? As your body desperately begged for something bigger, something warmer, and the aching need to cum.

That shouldn't be possible. You shouldn't even be able to come at this point considering how many orgasms had been forced upon you?!?! You could only cry out in delight eyes rolling when Childe's hands skimmed over your cock, and tugged teasingly at the bottle in your ass.

"Ah, already begging for more, my dear patron?" Childe stated teasingly. "Dottore did say this was strong but I didn't think it'd be this strong."

Barely leaving you room to breath. Childe ripped the bottle from your grasping insides sending you screaming into orgasm. You were barely aware of your begging as you sobbed at the empty feeling inside you.

"Oh, darling don't worry you'll be full very soon. I have to make sure to claim you in a way that NO ONE will ever be able to satisfy you again. That way both you and the world know you're MINE." Childe whispered the words confidently into the small of your back before dragging sharp canines growing steadily into fangs down to the swell of your ass.

"Prepare yourself!" He cautioned before sneering over your begging form and rolling eyes, "If you still have the capacity too." Before he slid his fangs deep into the small of your back a glowing riptide mark spreading out like ink over your skin as electricity started to coat his own.

Spine arched from the conflicting flashes of pain and pleasure you felt more than saw the transformation happening behind you.

Cool hands grew massive claws as they clutched at your hips drawing hints of blood from where they pressed. The cracking of electricity and bone as you were hoisted off the ground jerkily from your current partner's growth in height and size. The fangs in your back sliding smoothly out and a smooth texture replaced it almost like being pressed up against marble. You could feel fur tickling your back as you twisted to see what kind of horrors awaited you.

He was massive, he was intimidating, he was gorgeous. The feral boy who had struggled to survive in the abyss had not only tamed it but made it part of his strength in this new form. Massive blood red horns sprouted from his mask, and a cape seemingly made of stars and space.

Dragging your eyes down you froze. Childe's cock had already been awe inspiring as a human, but in this form...

It was terrifying. It seemed to emerge from some kind of protective slit. The shape was as inhuman as his current form, and a size to match. He was easily double if not closer to triple your height and his cock fit his current form. Easily the size of one of your thighs if not bigger. You now understood the need for hours of stretching. It was ribbed increasing it's girth though it did not have a bulbous head which made you weary. That implied that whatever Childe had turned into was a creature built for egg laying. You couldn't see any kind of testes but knew he was fertile considering the steady drip of pre cum from the swollen tip. You could also see a slight pouch towards the base of his member which you knew meant he probably had a knot too.

You were horrified when your body shivered in pleasure at the sight and smell of the crime against nature before you. You desperately were trying to convince yourself that the utter wanton lust inside you was based on whatever mysterious liquid Childe had forced you to consume.

A rolling purr vibrated through you from the creature before you as you chocked on your own drool unable to take your eyes off the cock before you, but Childe didn't allow you to stare for much longer.

Raising your body up as if it weighed no more than a toy, and similarly treating you no better than a ragdoll, Childe positioned you over his monstrosity of a cock.

Desperately you were muttering no over and over again as you pawed uselessly at his shoulders trying to climb away as you were lowered closer and closer to the leaking member. You knew you'd never recover from this once you got a taste of what was about to penetrate you you'd never be the same, and only be able to thirst and be filled by this monstrous thing.

A deep chuckle pressed near your ear as Childe bent so that his face was near yours still lowering and positioning you for his cock. "You did say on your honor as an Archon you'd take me. So take me!"

Before sheathing himself inside you in one smooth motion. Your nerves screamed with you. You could feel ever rib as they caressed your swollen insides and invaded your body. You could do nothing but cry and take it, as he used your body like nothing more then a sex toy to masturbate himself with.

Grunts and growls joined your screams and begging as he furiously bounced you on his dick. Whispering praises and croons near your head while your eyes crossed and tongue hung uselessly from your mouth. Though his tip wasn't shaped like a human man's it did its job of digging into your prostate so that pleasure was dragged from your willing body, and your unwilling submission from your mind.

You're going to break! 💙

You're going to brEAK! 💙💙

You'RE GoING To BrEAK! 💙💙💙

You screamed until your voice broke, eyes becoming fully unfocused, as your body spasmed uselessly through orgasm grasping desperately at the welcome intruder making itself home inside you.

Gleeful claws dug deeper into your hips drawing blood when Childe felt you completely relax no longer even a token struggle being put up by his patron. No his love. Now he could just TAKE.

Claws delicately crawled up your torso to carefully grasp and pull at your swollen teats intent on tugging and bruising them until they were swollen enough to be mistaken for small tits and the idea of covering up would be laughable due to sensitivity.

He watches in delight as you could only moan, and get out enough syllables to beg while he drove you far past overstimulation. Your pupils not even attempting to track anything occuring around you.

Though all good things must come to an end and Childe could feel the tightening in his gut and stir in his knot that this round was drawing to a close.

You could only sob and thrash in utter pleasure as Childe continued to stimulate your chest. Nipples bruised and swollen a cherry red easily the size of the tip of a person's thumb, before feeling the man, monster, behind you still with a deep groan.

Your animal hind brain could only gasp in relief thinking this trial of endurance was finally over. But you should stop under estimating your favored he loves to exceed expectations.

You could only twitch weakly, pinned to his crotch, as you were suspended in the air, when you felt his knot start to inflate. Your cock dripped a steady flow of pre cum from Childe's tip being ground against your probably bruised and weeping prostate, as you both waited for his knot to fully inflate.

But the worst had still yet to come. Finally after what felt like minutes and a few micro orgasms you felt Childe move. A twitch in his stomach before a lurch in his cock. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before taking a ragged gasp.

Something solid was moving through the member nestled deep inside you. Stretching you out further to accommodate it. You could only sob as it worked further into you.

Childe dragged a clawed hand up to your cheek lightly caressing you. "You're doing so well pet. You'll make such a good incubator and brood mother. All for my lovely eggs." Childe sneered delighted at your faint moaned denials and twitches. He loved that even now you were attempting to fight him. Pleasure broken as you were.

Childe ground into you lightly tugging at your rim with his knot to hear you gasp and cry before leaning forward as if to hear you better. "What was that my love? I couldn't have heard you denying to be my broodmare after all you promised to take all of me. I'm only making sure you follow through. After all you'll look so pretty full of my eggs."

Childe's hand on your face dragged your chin down to look at your ever filling stomach. During your conversation he had been quick to fill you. You were so bloated at this point you could easily see the faint shape of the eggs inside you.

A ragged gasp left your lips as the next egg pressed sharply against your prostate finally sending you over the edge and into orgasm. You wailed as your eyes rolled grasping desperately at your ever increasing stomach. Unable to come down from orgasm as each egg made a pass over your prostate.

This seemed to delight your captor. Childe's voice deepened in mockery, "You try to keep your pride and make denials that you're not a whore who loves the idea of being fucked and filled constantly and yet you can't stop continuously orgasming on my cock like some desperate slit." Childe wickedly continued micro thrusting to fuck you with his knot as his eggs kept your orgasm from truly ending.

Over time Childe felt his eggs slow to a stop and his knot start to deflate. Carefully he lowered himself and you to the floor as he let his transformation peel away to show his human form keeping his still sizeable cock plugging you full.

Placing you delicately in his lap so you could continue to cockwarm him Childe hummed a jaunty tune. Waving a hand in front of your face his tune picked up in beat at the lack of reaction or recognition in his darlings eyes. He had finally broken you for now. He expected you'd pull yourself together eventually, but it should be long enough he can bundle you away, and sedate your now human form, for the long trip to Sneznaya.

After all his family had been inquiring when he would take a partner, but knew he'd had his eyes only on one. After all one day he'd been King of everything and he needed a capable partner at his side. Placing a kiss on your temple Childe continued humming as he watched his agents enter the room and prepare for their swift getaway.

He grinned your first mistake was truly saving his life and putting him in debt to you. After all he always keeps his promises and pays his debts.

I think that's it. That was hard to figure out how to end. 🤔

Hopefully you liked it Felix! After I did all that hype for this chapter.

Happy birthday again. 🎉🎉😆😆

From 🦊 Anon!

#finally done #minimal editing #i apologize for spelling mistakes or things like that #i was on a roll #hopefully i hit all your kinks felix #i tried to include most of what i saw from your thirsts on your blog

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bigskydreaming · 3 years ago

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Hi! I was reading a fanfic and it brought up Roy and Dick's fight, which I see a lot of in fics but never what they fought about and consequently why they don't talk. I thought it was a vague excuse/reason why Roy was Jason's friend not Dick's anymore but this fic brought up when Dick was batman so I was wondering if there was actually a fight between them? Btw I really enjoy your metas! They're v thought out and well articulated. Also it's v easy to separate what's your opinion and what's fact which is. Very helpful for me

Yeah this is one hundred percent a fanon thing that's kept deliberately vague to justify why Roy in his friendship with Jason seems to have no positive thoughts or concerns about Dick whatsoever. Now granted, Dick and Roy are not nearly as close in the New 52 as they were pre-Reboot. The lack of their friendship there is definitely one of the things I disliked most about the Reboot - and I actually don't care if Jason and Roy are friends tbh, its the total erasure of his history with Dick as if he can't be friends with both, that like, bugs most.

But so like, yeah, Roy and Dick aren't super close when they interact on the Titans in the New 52, but there's literally nothing in any of their interactions that explains the complete absence of him from Roy's life or a reason that Roy would like, hate him the way he tends to in a lot of Jason-centric fics.

When you factor in pre-Reboot stuff though, it starts to get a LOT more.....uh wyd? And this is why I have trouble buying that people just write Roy and Jason the way they do because its the only thing they know from recent comics. Like one, most fans talk about how they don't even read the source comics, so there's no reason their knowledge of the characters or events would be limited to just recent comics if they're going off wiki summaries and scans anyway. And second, most fans AREN'T limited in their knowledge to just recent comics.

Like, the second people start writing Roy and Jason and Kori but with their pre-52 characterizations and references to events from THAT timeline, it all gets very messy, the way they're like, completely antagonistic towards Dick a lot of the time. Because Roy and Dick were always solid. Yes, they fought. A lot. But they always, ALWAYS made up afterwards. They had conflict about Roy's drug addiction - it didn't stop Dick from being there to support him through rehab, or Dick being the first person Roy called to help him get Lian after he learned of her existence. Dick literally held Lian before Roy ever did? He's the one who first put her in Roy's arms for the first time.

(Which is the prime grudge I and most Dick Grayson fans have about Roy and Jason fics which make Jason like, the absolute apple of Lian's eye. If you want to expand Lian's circle of loved and trusted ones to include Jason as Roy's friend and thus her uncle, like go for it! But there's zero reason that should require invalidating and erasing the fact that Dick was this little girl's adored godfather and uncle for pretty much her entire life. And the way Dick is just shoved offstage from Lian's life entirely, to slot Jason into his place as though they're completely interchangeable, its like....THAT'S the kind of thing that gets people irey about how Jason 'steals' Dick's dynamics and character relationships.

Because there's nothing saying they both can't be major players in Roy and Lian's lives! But just that they're not interchangeable! You need to develop the specific role Jason plays there WITHOUT just overwriting everything Dick actually did in relation to the two of them pre-Flashpoint, which is what you're drawing from the second you write Lian, unless you're specifically going with the few appearances we've had of her within literally just the last year.

But I mean, when people just search and replace Dick Grayson in all Roy and Lian's pre-Reboot stories and act like Jason was the one doing all of that instead.....why wouldn't fans of the source material be annoyed by a character getting credit for interactions and things done for Lian and Roy that Jason literally NEVER DID, while at the EXACT SAME TIME, conjuring some mysterious, unnamed 'Falling Out' that Roy and Dick had, that was clearly all Dick's fault, and resulted from him being basically excised entirely from Roy and Lian's lives?

Same with Kori, for the record, and like despite being Dick's ex, she and Dick have NEVER been like, estranged? She and Dick have often been close even after their breakup. None of it makes any sense, and the fact that a lot of fans don't even try to make it make sense or justify it, and expect other fans to just be fine with settling for an inexplicable reversal of Dick's every actual dynamic with these characters while setting up Jason to occupy the exact same role Dick played in these other characters' lives, like.....lol. Its fun.)

Anyway, back to your question, like, there are fights you can go with pre-Reboot as the source of various conflicts between Dick and Roy - but again, I maintain its just as crucial that they're always written as getting past them. They have a very tempestuous relationship because they are the two people MOST likely to call each other on their shit, two of the two people WITH the most shit in common due to the parallels in their childhoods and the roles they've occupied in the Titans and the superhero community in general, and the two people most resistant to being called out on their shit by each other, lol. Mostly in that case because like, they do recognize that they have a lot in common and understand each other very well, so the second the other is calling them out for something, they're usually like "ugh, if HE'S saying this, its probably true and I am just not prepared yet to be wrong about this. I need more time being unjustifiably rawr about things." Its like that thing where they both look at each other doing something that feels familiar or calls back to their own reasons for doing something and they're like ugh I'm in this picture and I don't like it.

So they clash. A lot. But always with the implicit bedrock of like, there's nothing either of them can do or say to the other that will push the other away for good.

They fought over Roy replacing Dick as leader of the Titans when Dick's wedding fell apart, even though Roy actually didn't want to do it and was kinda pushed into it by the government, but again, Dick like, got over it and realized it was for the best and forgave Roy for it that very same issue. And on and on. It always went like that. So there's plenty of stuff that can be used or pointed at as a source of conflict between the two, but the part I'll always call unbelievable is the idea that they never make up after one of these fights. Why now? What fight, specifically, is so bad between them that despite everything else they've gone through AND gotten past, they can't get past this one? Y'know?

So yeah, that's my take on this. There is no definitive falling out between Dick and Roy as many fics like to point to in order to shove him offscreen and make room for Jason in Roy and Lian's lives, and personally, I just don't find it necessary and I actually think it makes Roy look REALLY bad. Because when you're not specifically detailing all the things that Dick has actually DONE for Roy, the lengths to which he's been there for his friend, and like, specifically invalidating each and every one of them as something that never happened in a particular fic, then literally anyone who reads that fic and has their own awareness of Dick and Roy's friendship is kiiiiiinda likely to be reading that and thinking wow what an ungrateful asshole, when Roy's just written as bitching about Dick with Jason and sandbagging him without any real explanation as to WHY, beyond just 'oh they had a fight years ago.'

(And coming up with some random awful thing that Dick did to justify Roy hating him now isn't like, a superior alternative, lmao, because again, its still just trashing one character for the sake of getting him out of the way of two other characters' friendship and people are going to think what they think about that).

Anyway, my now standard stock disclaimer that like, there doesn't actually need to be a canon fight obviously, for people to just write things this way and handwave that Dick and Roy had an epic falling out years ago and now they just hate one another or whatever, or just Roy hates him or vice versa. Obviously people are free to do what they want. They don't need a reason other than "I want to write it this way so Jason and Roy are friends and Jason doesn't have to 'share' him with Dick or have his friendship be overshadowed by their greater history together." That just happens to be a reason that no Dick Grayson fan is ever really going to be happy about, lol, for what should be perfectly obvious reasons, so it honestly shouldn't be surprising to people that fans of the source material often gripe about it.

Because yeah fanfic is a tremendous opportunity to transform the source material into something better, but if what's better for some fans actively takes away what was working perfectly well for other fans the original way, they're going to say that. Especially in a fandom where so many new fans take their view of the characters and their dynamics from fics rather than the source material - when fandom has that much of an influence on what new fans perceive to be 'canon,' fans are perfectly within their right to emphasize what is ACTUALLY canon and what isn't, so that new fans at least have the opportunity to determine for themselves what take they want to go with, instead of just accepting at face value that the nature of say, Dick and Roy's relationship is just that Roy hates Dick because of some mumble mumble ancient history vague mumble details not found mumble mumble fight.

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yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

manners maketh women | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: kingsman!AU (loosely inspired lol), enemies to enemies basically (some sexual tension)

warnings: mentions of blood, enemies, dismantling the patriarchy

words: 2, 637

summary: kingsman or alternatively you trying to dismantle the patriarchy by pissing off your partner

“You’re a fucking psychopath!” Valentine spits at you with bloodied gums while he lays on the floor with all the will to live beaten out of him.

You’re much better off. Of course you were. You wouldn’t let someone as vile or unimportant as Valentine ruin your pantsuit because while you thought the establishment was exorbitant, it was still costly and made you look like a bad bitch.

“Says the one who planted chips into people’s head only to blow them up.” You roll your eyes, tossing your blazer over your shoulder as Merlin sighs at the scene behind you when you cock your head towards the pitiful soon-to-be prisoner.

“I thought we said no damage.”

You shrug.

“This is no damage. Couldn’t help that my hand slipped.” You return.

Merlin is about to retort but your teammate stomps out of the abandoned church with his eyes narrowed to your figure that retreats to the comfort of your car.

You almost forget that you weren’t on this mission alone until the presence of your partner appears by your side and you’ve worked with him long enough to know that he’s shooting daggers on the side of your forehead.

“We agreed to bring him back in one piece.” Jungkook snarls at you.

You see that he’s way worse off compared to you. But it could have alluded to the fact that he warded off the rest of the guards that ambushed the two of you when you first arrived. The priority was finding Valentine and making sure that he was captured and under your scrutiny, so you agreed to head off first while Jungkook did the dirty work.

“His limbs are still attached to his body, I don’t see how I didn’t uphold to the end of our agreement?” You stop in your tracks, causing Jungkook to skid in his steps as his chest makes contact with your back.

When you turn around, he’s absolutely furious but that only spurs on the wide grin that appears on your face.

“Valentine looks like he’s been through six wars and a botched plastic surgery attempt!” He hisses.

You roll your eyes, folding your arms across your chest as you take in Jungkook’s growing rage. He’s never been the level-headed one between the two of you but you were also the more infuriating one. You were fully aware of that and you were going to use it to your advantage. You didn’t beckon your way through the misogynistic Kingsman system to be bossed around by some stereotypical posh man who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.

“And that’s what he deserved. I did what I had to do, Jeon.” You retort as venomously as he had.

Jungkook literally growls and you know you’ve annoyed him further because he was the typical Kingsman agent that attempted to uphold all the core values and paraded around the base with the manners maketh man phrase that he loved to milk. You, on the other hand, didn’t believe in that shit at all because you were not mannered and neither were you a man. Jungkook walked the ground like he had a stick up his ass half the time and you had no time to deal with his uptightness.

“We are on a mission, Lancelot. I go by Galahad.” He reminds you but you wave him off, turning around to head towards your car.

Jungkook grits his teeth as he sees Merlin drag a detained Valentine—who leaves a trail of blood in his path—to the van where he’d be brought back to the cells. He couldn’t believe that you had the audacity to go against direct orders from your superior like that! But at the same time, you’ve pulled things like this more than once and rubbed Jungkook the wrong way every time you’d brush off any lament that came from him.

He doesn’t think you were incapable of being a Kingsman agent, although it hasn’t always been that way. But he did believe that you should at least uphold the fundamental values that made Kingsman the reputable secret service it was.

“You act like Jeon is the worst of the names I call you.” You snort.

Jungkook wants to remind you that it’s not and he’s aware but he’s highly exhausted after fending off numerous men on his own while you got to catch the largest bait of the day, your pantsuit hardly creasing in the process.

“Would it kill you to follow orders?” Jungkook snaps.

The two of you reach the car and he snatches the keys from your palm before you can step into the driver’s seat. You raise an eyebrow at his gesture and look him up and down before your bored eyes rest upon his still pinched expression.

“If we get pulled over the police are going to think you’re a runaway.”

Jungkook scowls but enters the car anyway. You follow him shortly into the passenger seat as you immediately tug off the band that kept your hair in a ponytail as you ruffle your hair, slipping off the heels off your feet. You found it absurd that the agency demanded you wear heels onto a field mission purely because it was the Kingsman brand. It wasn’t like you couldn’t fight in them but obviously, it made you slightly slower than you’d like.

“You’re going to shut up and not say a single word during the ride back because I’ve had enough of that smart ass mouth of yours.” Jungkook snaps.

“It’s cute that you think I’m going to listen to you, Jeon.” You pat his thigh in consolation and he just curses under his breath.

Jungkook doesn’t have the energy to argue back because, for every remark he makes, he’s sure you have at least ten responses phrased in different ways to respond with.

“If you called me in for a staring contest then I’m afraid we have to reschedule. I’ve got a bottle of wine and some fried chicken waiting for me in my quarters.” You deadpan.

The man who sits in front of you is unnerved and you expect no less from the current Director of Kingsman. It also wasn’t the first time you’ve sat before him with the very same look marring his face. You know what the conversation is going to be about and he knows that you know.

“Agent Lancelot—”

You scoff when you lean forward, narrowing your eyes at your superior before he purses his lips at your gesture.

“How many times did I tell you to ditch the alias? It’s unnecessary especially since we’re in your office which is debatably the most vaulted place in all of the Kingsman quarters. It isn’t like Valentine is going to come crawling through the vents and demand for my birth certificate.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose because when he hired you after you—impressively—passed the most gruesome and intense interview process with a blink of your eye, he didn’t know what to expect when he took the risk of recruiting the first-ever woman Kingsman.

But now that it’s been years since you’ve made a name for yourself and all other keen women who were looking for the opportunity to train as an agent, he realised that you were not just a skilled agent but a sharp and impenetrable fortress that would never let anyone tell her what to do.

Which was frankly—inconvenient—given the nature of Kingsman work that often relied on partnership and collaboration. But those words weren’t in your dictionary and Namjoon can see the way you look bored before the conversation started as you sit in front of him with a blank expression on your face.

“It’s nice to see you, ______,” Namjoon says dryly, clasping his fists together before leaning forward on his elbows that your faces are closer.

“Are you going to call me out for disobeying orders and bringing back Valentine like butchered meat? If you want an apology then you know you’re not going to get it,” You say blankly before turning in the swivel chair; already halfway off before Namjoon stops you.

“Jungkook has been telling me that you’ve been harder to work with recently.” Namjoon points out.

You scoff.

“Of course he’ll say that. I’m the better agent in the partnership and it bruises his puny masculine ego. Tell him to shove it and deal with it because it’s going to get harder.”

Namjoon shoots you an unimpressed glare before he wills himself to maintain a decent amount of level-headedness as he reasons with you.

“The both of you are talented agents—” Namjoon says slowly and you know he’s only saying that to appease you and not break his neutrality when it came to agents so you roll your eyes at his attempt, “—and because the two of you are always going on the most important missions it’s imperative that you work together.”

“Namjoon.” You blink, “Jeon is the most infuriating individual I have been condemned to meet and I literally have no idea why you won’t just switch me out with—I don’t know—Jin or something. He isn’t as mouthy or pretentious as Jeon.”

Namjoon sighs.

“Firstly, why can’t you ever call him by his first name? And secondly—you know why I can’t do that. Jin is in-charge of international operations and we need you here on domestic land. You and Jungkook are the most qualified agents of the region and it is in my best interest, as well as the nations to have you two work together.”

You wave him off before you push yourself off the chair completely, offering a sloppy salute out to his direction and you see Namjoon’s shoulder deflate at your stubbornness. But before you’re even able to make your way out of the door, you see a face that makes you scowl.

“Talking shit about me behind my back, babe?” Jungkook narrows his eyes at you.

You snort.

“If I wanted to talk shit about you, I’d do it to your face so I can watch your fragile ego shatter in front of my eyes. And—if you don’t want your balls detached from your body and served to you as a door gift then I suggest you never call me babe ever again.”

You’re about to push past him but his hand reaches for your shoulder and stops you with a tight grip as you snap your head to glare at him. You’re about to throw him off you, literally, but Jungkook is also skilled and he sees the telltale signs of your anger for him to defend himself against your attack.

When you pull his arm to lug his body over yours, he manages to lock your grip and bring you into a headlock—chest pressed to your back as he breathes down your hair while you feel the cocky smirk of his spread across his face.

“Let go of me you fucking shithead.” You snarl.

Jungkook snorts and only tightens his grip on you, twisting your chin between his thumb and index finger so you’re glaring directly at his face that is only a mere inches away from yours to give you a taunting grin that you want to slap off his face.

“You’ll never outdo the doer—” He whispers so low that it almost seems like it’s just the two of you, “—baby.”

You take that as a chance to knee him in the stomach and shove him away before you dust your hands on your pants, only to remember that you were still in Namjoon’s office and he likely saw the show that the two of you put on.

“I … I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” Namjoon clears his throat before gesturing to the two of you to take a seat as if you weren’t seconds away from walking out that door.

“Look, Namjoon—we—I—don’t need this group therapy session with him, okay? The two of us can work together but that doesn’t mean I’ll listen to what he says. His judgement is clouded by the systemic oppression that Kingsman entrenches to their agents and I won't stand for that.”

Jungkook’s fists tighten at your blatant disrespect to the organisation that employed you, and he remembers every reason why he hates you so much.

“_____,” Namjoon sighs, “I don’t understand why you walked into that interview years ago if you hate everything that Kingsman stands for.”

You clench your fists by your side because of course, he didn’t understand. And of course, Jungkook, Jimin, Jin and even Merlin didn’t understand. They didn’t need the luxury of understanding a system that favoured people like them.

“Then let me spell it out for you both,” You say emphasise each word with a spit.

Jungkook clenches his jaw but remains silent.

“I walked into that interview knowing I was going to ace that shit because I owed that first step to all the women that were used and abused by your Kingsmen. The women that were offered comfort for sex to only be shunned and disposed of by the esteemed agents you call Kingsmen. I am not a Kingsman and I am not Lancelot. I am ______ ______ and I’m a woman who fucking owned every single one of those male agents that day who decided to snicker and laugh at me when they wouldn’t be able to ever walk a mile in my shoes. I’m here because I have a point to prove.”

Namjoon is stunned to silence and you don’t know what triggers your outburst but you suppose its years of repression and having to work alongside a male peer that only sees you as impressive because of your gender and not because of your skills. The comments rubbed you the wrong way and you never looked back since.

“_______ …” Namjoon begins but you glare at him and that’s enough to send him silent.

But you see the way Jungkook’s jaw twitches and you know that sign well enough to know he’s about to say something you won’t like.

“That’s it? All the anger, bitchiness and attitude for you to prove a point?” Jungkook scoffs, “You’re that pathetic?”

“Jungkook—” Namjoon warns.

“You walked into this life and you need to deal with the consequences. I don’t give two shits your intention in Kingsman but you’re here and you’re working for the Kingsman so you better suck all that bitterness up or leave. Don’t you dare disrespect the foundation of what a Kingsman is.” Jungkook hisses.

The expression on your face is thunderous and Jungkook has never seen you like that, ever. Not even when the two of you were arguing head to head and everyone else thought someone was going to end up hurt. No, this is much more … threatening. A look that’s so unfamiliar but familiar enough because it’s the first time he’s seen it directed to him.

“I wonder why you’re so overprotective about the Kingsman name, hm?” You say blankly, “Is it because that your entire identity revolves around it? That you’ve never seen a world with eyes when you weren’t a Kingsman? You’re pathetic, Jeon. You’re nothing without the title but at least I know what I want. You don’t. You’re just hiding behind the suit and weapons to make you feel like a man but you’re just a sorry excuse of a human being that only sees the world through a bigoted lens.”

Jungkook is about to retort but you’re faster, and the action alarms both Namjoon and Jungkook when you—

“I quit.” You smile.

The badge and your key weapon with nothing but a slam to the table.

“______—“ Namjoon stands up but you don’t spare him another glance before you’re out the door.

#bts imagines #bts fic #bts fics #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #kingsman!au #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook enemies to lovers

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bbugyu · 4 years ago

Text

how jeonghan knew

a journey with yoon jeonghan, lee seokmin, and you.

there was always something about his infectious laugh and his genuine nature that felt like fate to jeonghan, and maybe you were the muse that kept their red thread in tact.

prelude | part one | part two | part three | epilogue

wc.10662 (LMFAO) | fluff, smut, courtship, angsty in the beginning, polyamory, sugar daddy!jeonghan musician!seokmin escort!reader, hi cheol, hi gyu (again), hi boo, hi wonu, gay pining, jk he's pan probably, discovering sexuality, daddy kink, special guest seokmin!!!!!, threesome, lots of mlm, oral, cumpla, handjobs, choking, butt plugs, male penetration, there's a full on reader-less memberxmember sex scene idk, unprotected sex, please use condoms, jeonghan gets overwhelmed, the TEASING, jeonghan being a home improvement freak, don’t mind han jisung he’s just vibing, required listening is positions (2020) by ariana grande because it’s a perfect album

and here we have poly seokhan: the gayening!!! this is going to be the end of my scheduled updates for neverending artistry, but i’ll be posting an epilogue when i finish it - probably after i post a couple of other fics. this chapter.... is my fave......... i think u will see why lol. i went ahead and got a lil carried away with the house stuff but LISTENNNN i watch a lot of architecture videos ok LFJDSJ

thank you all so much for your continued support and incredible feedback on this series! it seriously means so much to me and i love seeing asks and messages from everyone telling me how excited they are to read more. i hope this satisfies you!!!

jeonghan is pretty sure he always loved seokmin. it wasn't something he would ever be able to change about himself, he figured, as he watched his friend date woman after woman in college with varying seriousness. he decidedly ignored any amount of feelings he harbored for the younger, especially after he dropped architecture as his major and he saw less of him.

jeonghan tried to get over the destined musician (he would always be singing or fiddling with his guitar when he was meant to be helping jeonghan with a diorama) with several women, and after decisively focusing on his career for a couple years, he found success in another man. his short lived gym buddy, but lasted quite a bit longer as his boyfriend. they had connected first when jeonghan had offhandedly commented that he liked the logo on his shirt, to which the long lashed, broad shouldered man had said he had gotten it at the brand's store down the street, making jeonghan chew his cheek before he admitted that he had helped design that location. they connected the second time later that night, clumsily but intensely, and jeonghan liked his plush pouty lips and how his messy black hair felt between his fingers.

while that didn't last forever, he found varied success in other men, and he figured this was why dating women had always been so difficult for him. definitely not that he had been given small choice amongst the rotten apples that attended his college.

he was single again, and at an industry party when he reconnected with an old friend from college who happily reminisced about the fun their small group of friends had back then. he asked if jeonghan remembered seokmin, the guy that dropped the program.

"lee seokmin?" he asked, his brows knitting as he tried to react normally to the name, and mingyu hit his shoulder, laughing.

"yeah! guess what? that son of a bitch is teaching my niece piano!"

jeonghan smiled at the idea of seokmin as a piano teacher, nodding along as mingyu talked about how he had volunteered to take her to her lesson one week, only to be put face to face with a long lost friend. jeonghan laughed as mingyu imitated the face the other had made, laughing harder when he recognized it and remembered seeing it on seokmin's face in the past, then telling mingyu about how he had once pranked him by making the poor guy think that he was going to fail a project because seokmin had accidentally destroyed a diorama. it had already been graded, and he was going to take it apart to save on materials anyways, but the younger nearly cried when he thought he had wasted hours of jeonghan's time and cost him the grade by accidentally kicking it off his desk.

he asked how seokmin was doing these days, and mingyu told him he seemed well, and that he takes his niece to her lessons as often as he can spare, just to chat for a while. "i could give you his number," he said, feeling his pockets for his phone. "i'm sure he'd love to hear from you."

mingyu had been right. seokmin did love hearing from him. and he loved the way seokmin made him laugh with his ever joking tone and physical comedy antics. the way his eyebrows creased as he tried to keep a stern face but was unable to hide the smile across his lips. the way he always fought with him for the check despite jeonghan being older and notably better off.

he didn't love, however, how seokmin nodded his head after the waitress and asked him if he thought he had a shot.

maybe he was desperate, or maybe he wanted an excuse to not date seriously, or maybe he just wasn't ready to let go, but jeonghan continued to invite seokmin out, despite the fact that their relationship would never develop past friends who met in college. he enjoyed his company anyways, even if it felt bittersweet.

he poured himself into his work for several months, taking more contracts than usual and keeping himself occupied, only really seeing others for meetings and constructions, or when he was depressed on a friday night and caved, asking seokmin to join him for drinks somewhere. he continued this cycle for too long, his personal assistant noticing his mood changes before most.

"are you taking your vitamins?"

"yes, seungkwan, i'm taking my vitamins," jeonghan bit back, fully aware that he wasn't asking about vitamins at all, but about his state. confirming he was still making an effort to take care of himself rather than spiraling, sat in his living room on a tuesday after being told by a doctor to rest, for god's sake as a solution to him nearly collapsing several hours earlier. seungkwan shifted on his feet, tongue running over his teeth as he stared at the architect, hands folded in front of him.

"you need to stop seeing him. it only hurts you."

jeonghan sighed, staring at the black screen of his television. "i know."

his assistant studied him. "you should come out with the team sometime," he said. "we get drinks on wednesdays, usually. come tomorrow, it could take your mind off things."

jeonghan looked up at seungkwan, who was clearly sucking on his cheek. he knew he was right. more importantly, seungkwan knew he knew, but jeonghan had a hard time wanting to take his mind off this one specific thing, considering the way this one specific thing laughed like a hyena, poured himself over a piano like an ocean wave, and sang along like an angel. his head fell back on the couch, and he had to take a long, conscious breath to lower the ringing in his ears at the silence. "i'll be there next time."

seungkwan exhaled in defeat, eyes flickering around as he excused himself and said goodnight, knowing his boss was lying.

jeonghan found you on accident - put in an uncomfortable corner by an ultimatum from his publicist and the circulating rumor that he sleeps with men because he can't keep a woman around that seemed to pile on top of everything else on his plate - and the second you opened your mouth, he knew you were special.

he remembered the profile he had seen from your broker, and knew you were attending university. he asked you your major, and when you told him you wanted to produce music for a living, something deep in him stirred. you had been sitting in his car for all of twenty minutes, and you nearly had him under your spell already.

he couldn't understand his fascination with you, but he continued to book you for dates, sometimes deciding what event he would be attending by asking what day you were available that week. he figured if he needed to prove to the world that he wasn't gay (which he was, he was pretty sure), you were the only one he was interested in doing it with.

maybe he had a thing for musicians.

he had taken out quite a few escorts before you, but none of them were nearly as fun. you always did an incredible job engaging in whatever event he brought you to, but also hit his chest as you tried to stifle a laugh at something he muttered into your ear, guiding you away. his friends liked you, too, the few he had. the ones that had met you. yongsun had even tugged him aside briefly, asking if he really liked you. you seemed nice, she had said. and good, in general, but also for him. she wanted to make sure he wasn't just leading you along to quiet some stupid rumor. he glanced at you, smiling wide as you excitedly discussed music with one of his other friends (the fifth and last person he liked at this event, the two of you included), and wasn't quite sure why he told her he actually liked you, but didn't feel the need to correct himself.

then you told him you were quitting, and he realized what he would be losing. then you kissed him, and he realized what he had been feeling. then you looked at him with wide eyes, just as shocked as he was by the explosion of fireworks you had both just experienced, and he realized what he had been missing out on all this time.

he figured he must have always loved you as his eyes scanned the hotel bar, confused at how you had managed to get away so quickly. he was running into the hall to see if you had escaped to the lobby when someone caught his arm.

"hey, you seen yongsun?"

jeonghan blinked at his blonde friend, recognizing her play. "have you seen y/n?"

"try the bathroom," she said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction she had come from.

he looked down the hall at the restroom signs, nodding. "i saw her at the chocolate fountain a minute ago."

byulyi patted his shoulder as she walked past him. "good luck, yoon."

it felt good telling you the truth, while sitting in your well organized and tastefully decorated studio apartment that you had insisted he would hate, even if he was too scared to admit all of it. why he had needed you before, but wanted you now. his heart nearly beat out of his chest when you agreed to his conditions, though he recognized that he had given you just about every advantage in the deal. it would have been near impossible for you to say no, especially after the way you had kissed him before someone had finally tried to enter the bathroom you were hiding in.

for a while, he only kissed you as a farewell, mostly because he enjoyed the old school romanticism of kissing a beautiful woman in the moonlight, her back against the passenger door of his black vehicle parked on the street outside her studio apartment. then, when he had invited you to his home after the two of you had ditched a boring dinner several hours early, you had curled up in his side to watch a movie. at some point, he caught you staring at him, and you put a hand on his cheek and kissed him sweetly. slowly. kissed him in a way that only made him crave more. you smiled, settling back into his side for the rest of the movie, and even though you had done it unconsciously, the back of your hand rested against his thigh in a way he had a hard time ignoring, and he decided he must have just had real shit taste in women before he had met you.

the following sunday, when you mentioned how pitch black the sky seemed at that late hour, having gotten caught up binging some drama, he not-so-vaguely hinted that he'd be okay with you spending the night in his bed. you eyed him, and he shrugged playfully.

"or i have guest rooms. up to you."

"i have class tomorrow," you tested.

"i can take you," he responded. "if you want."

you paused, watching him as he recorked the wine bottle the two of you had opened earlier in the evening but only managed to have one glass of each before abandoning it to cuddle on the couch. he was always so thoughtful, even in his teasing. he cared about your comfort. he wanted to maintain your boundaries. but it had been a really long time since you had gotten laid, and everything in you yearned to say yes. jeonghan's voice in your head reminded you, no expectations. this could be whatever you wanted out of it.

so you went to bed with him.

jeonghan would swear up and down that you were the most beautiful woman in the world, and his beliefs were only confirmed when he pulled your shirt off of you, dragging your pants down your legs, and got a real look at you for the first time. you felt unexplainably embarrassed under his gaze, asking if he was okay.

"yeah," he said breathlessly, a hand running up your side, your back arching slightly to his touch. he curled over you before he whispered "god, yeah, i'm more than okay," against your lips.

not even ten minutes had passed before you told him you loved him between your panting, and he was so ecstatic when he could tell you, wholly and truthfully, that he loved you, too. and after your pulses had died down and you were falling asleep in his arms, he said that if you were staying under his roof, you were not allowed in any guest rooms. that if you needed space, he would find a different bed to sleep in, because this one looked best with you in it, and he refused to have it any other way.

jeonghan never got bored with you. over time, you began going to his place after events and dinners more than he dropped you off at your apartment, becoming an often enough occurrence that he had asked you one night to fill an online shopping cart with clothes for you to keep in his closet, so you could stop this silly packing bags nonsense. he had already bought you a full set of toiletries for his bathroom, started keeping your favorite snacks in the pantry, and even gone as far as to buy you the house slippers you had offhandedly said were cute when the two of you wandered aimlessly around a mall together. you were becoming a part of his home in more ways than one, and he was happy to have you.

he offered you an unused office on the second floor when you started studying for finals on the peninsula of his kitchen counter one monday afternoon, and you asked what was wrong with you doing it where you were.

"because you're not going to clean it up," he pointed out.

"maybe if we had a rewards system," you argued. "if i clean up, i get a prize."

he laughed, rounding the small jut of countertop, thinking about how he would probably need a proper kitchen island if you were going to be sticking around. "just because i give you an allowance, doesn't mean you're a child. you're not supposed to focus on the baby part of sugar baby."

you pouted as you turned on the stool to face him, a hand gently tugging his tie to pull him into you. "what if i focus on the daddy part of sugar daddy?"

a hunger dropped in jeonghan, gazing down at you as you sat at his kitchen counter, surrounded by textbooks and notes. your eyes sparkled under the lights, and his fingers went behind your neck before he kissed you, muttering against your lips to try calling him that again, angel.

the kitchen remodel had gone about as smoothly as it could have, given the fact that it was nearly impossible to transport such a large slab of granite for his dream island without it snapping in half from its own weight, but they managed, and when the light fixture finally turned on for the first time after the new cabinet doors had been installed, he felt justified in remodeling a kitchen that had hardly needed updating. he felt even more justified when he came downstairs to find you, having woken up in an empty bed, only to have you yell at him as you flipped pancakes on the griddle of his new gas range, saying you were going to bring him breakfast in bed and if he didn't cooperate, he wouldn't see you for a week. he laughed at your threatening spatula, putting his hands up in surrender, unable to stop smiling as he made his way back up the stairs.

you had enrolled in online courses for your last year of school, mostly so you didn't have to be anywhere specific for several hours every day, and instead could keep your schedule massively open to cater to jeonghan's needs. this also meant you usually attended your afternoon lectures at his home, waiting for him to get off work and distract you.

then the two of you started attended wednesday drinks with the team. seungkwan had thanked you, though you hadn't realized that you were deserving of a thanks.

"he'll tell you when he wants to, i guess," he said, twirling the beer in his hand. "but he wasn't in a great place before he met you."

you could hear the subject of your exchange laughing further down the bar, and you wondered what kind of place he meant, but tapped your glass against seungkwan's instead of asking the question. "to better places."

he chuckled, bringing the beer to his lips. "cheers to that."

jeonghan enjoyed having you on his lap on the couch, listening to whatever r&b record you had chosen as you worked your lips against his. he nudged several kisses down your neck, and you mentioned offhandedly that there was a perfect place in his living room for a bar, pointing at the wall behind him. he pulled away from you, turning his body with an arm over the back of the sofa, and his head cocked as he stared at the wall that only held a painting. he silently agreed with you, wondering why you seemed to inspire all his recent projects as you nipped at his neck, drawing his attention back to you with a smile on his face.

the bar was finished in time to hire a bartender for a halloween party. he hadn't told the guests that it was an anniversary party, but you had been made aware of the secret arrangement during a conversation the two of you had over a private meal in your favorite restaurant the week before.

"a threesome," you asked, hoping for clarification.

"with a guy, preferably," jeonghan said. "but i could be convinced to approve of a girl if that's what you would like."

"you're being serious?" you seemed to find yourself asking him that a lot. every time he suggested something that he knew you wanted, you wondered if he was pulling your leg. "and you want me to choose?"

"yeah, at the party," he said, watching you shake your head incredulously with a smile on his face. the two of you had discussed the possibility in the past, and he thought it made a fun gift. an unexpected one, from someone who had enough money to comfortably gift you just about anything. "i have to approve, obviously, but you get to pick the candidates."

you thought a moment. "what if we can't agree on anyone?"

"then i take you to bed alone and we have fun anyways."

he laughed when you squinted at him.

"if the opportunity comes up down the line, we can try again later," he said. "but i thought this would give you something fun to do while i'm hosting guests."

and it had, as you sneakily scoped out the guests, flitting around the party of both familiar and unfamiliar faces in your angelic cheerleading costume. visiting and laughing heartily with the team, as well as your uni friends that jeonghan insisted you invite, offering them more drinks, then saying something about having to play hostess so you could continue your search. byulyi and yongsun were there, and you complimented their matching rapunzel and flynn get up, jeonghan catching you for just a second to ask if you needed anything.

you settled in on one target perhaps too quickly, without even really having made an effort to see all the options. you had been struck by the same sharp cheekbones, puppy dog eyes, and crooked smile that jeonghan had once fallen for. when he saw you tucked into lee seokmin's side, recognizing your flirting even from a distance and noticing how receptive the musician was to it, his heart fluttered, and he couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing.

a good thing, he decided, when seokmin had asked him permission before he came in you. because, seemingly, sexuality was much more of a spectrum than jeonghan had once thought, and perhaps his college crush just needed the encouragement of an incredible woman to try something a little beyond his experience, much like he had.

and when you wouldn't stop mentioning the musician the two of you had enjoyed the company of while schmoozing guests at the opening of him and his friend's collaborative art exhibit, he got a slick idea. on the way home, he told you that you weren't allowed to make a noise until he hung up the phone, but you were already writhing in the passenger seat just as the phone rang.

and when he answered, you clamped a hand over your mouth, a bare foot landing on the dashboard as you tried to grind against jeonghan's hand, his voice steady as he talked to the younger.

and when he mentioned you, your walls pulsed around his fingers, a smile finding its way into his lips as he spoke. he tried not to take too much pleasure in the way you looked at him with begging eyes and your fist between your teeth, or in the way seokmin's tone dropped as he confirmed that he would get a cab, but he truly couldn't help himself when he made eye contact with seokmin as you sucked him off, his hips canting into yours recklessly, forcing seokmin to break the contact as he reacted to your moan on his cock.

he noticed the way seokmin's hips began to move on their own, begging for enough control to chase his nearing high in your mouth but having it brought right to his doorstep instead. jeonghan felt your perfect heat cling to him in reaction, and before he could think to stop himself, he pulled you into his chest by your throat, not daring to let you claim it all as he lapped cum from your mouth. you whimpered against him, your orgasm lasting impossibly long as he fucked into you, getting milked by your needy walls.

when he caught seokmin staring directly at him, he grinned and wiped the back of his hand across his chin and lower lip, languidly licking any escaped cum off it, and asked if he wanted to try his, too.

seokmin agreed, nodding shakily before jeonghan massaged at your sides, pumping himself into you a few more times. he told you to give seokmin's mouth a ride. you groaned, his cum dripping down your thighs.

jeonghan watched the younger's cock twitch as you moaned over him, one hand on the wall and the other on his scalp, his fingers digging into your thighs. he stared at how it never lost hardness. he didn't even realize that his hands were on seokmin's hip and thigh before he even asked if he could touch him, but a large hand left your thigh to shakily bring jeonghan's to his thick cock, answering the question despite you occupying his mouth, his fingers lingering over jeonghan's as he pumped his length.

he couldn't deny that how badly he wanted to fuck seokmin, but he could settle for making him cum in his hands until he was ready for something more, especially with the surprising amount he had to give after already having cum once. he let himself indulge in a single lick across seokmin's sensitive slit - though it was hard to stop there - triggering a garbled moan before he left to shower.

a week or so later, jeonghan asked you if you were interested in dating seokmin. you put your phone down and rolled over in bed, propped up on your elbows as you asked him what he meant.

"i love you," jeonghan assured, pulling you to lay closer to him. "and i can tell you like him."

you studied his face. "but i'm with you."

"that doesn't have to stop," he said, smiling at you as he tucked a hand behind his head. you eyed his arm briefly, then refocused on him. "but you know how things get in the winter, and i would be okay with you trying things out with him while i'm busy."

"you're being serious?"

jeonghan laughed at the familiar question. "yes, y/n, i'm being serious. i know you want me, but i also know you want more than me."

you had never told anyone about your desire for multiple partners, not even admitted it out loud to yourself, so his candid assessment caught you off guard. "how did you-"

"just little things you've said," he teased, leaving you to question how much you had revealed about yourself without realizing. "besides, no one can deny the chemistry."

you paused. "boundaries?"

"just tell me," he said, putting his arms around you and tugging you into him. "i just want to know when you're seeing him. and, eventually, i would like to be invited every once in a while."

"invited to dates?" you asked, throwing a leg over his lap to straddle it as you laid over him. "or invited to bed?"

he smiled up at you, hands running over your rear. "either. both. whatever you two want."

you agreed, but only after you made him promise he would tell you if anything changed for him. that he had to tell you about every doubt and worry he had. "i'll always choose you," you stated plainly, lips brushing against his as he gently rolled his growing length up against your clothed heat. "no matter what, i'll choose you."

"i know, sweetheart," he said, a hand on your cheek as he kissed you. "i promise."

after he came back from a business trip in december, you admitted to him that you and seokmin had exchanged i love yous, and he just put an arm over your shoulder and turned down the volume on the tv, telling you that he was pretty sure he loved seokmin, too.

"it was him, wasn't it?" you asked, studying his profile. "he was the guy you couldn't get over?"

jeonghan rubbed his face with one hand, sighing. "yeah, it was him."

"why didn't you say anything?"

he thought a moment. "i didn't want you to feel obligated, i guess."

your fingers straightened the seams of his long sleeved shirt across his shoulder. "obligated to win him over for you?"

"obligated to love him, too."

"jokes on you," you giggled. "he's very easy to fall in love with."

jeonghan supposed that was true, thinking of how quickly he had fallen for him, even back before he had admitted he liked men. how he had fallen into the same spot even years later, just over a shared meal and a few bottles of soju.

but you were easy to fall in love with too, he thought, remembering how he hadn't even understood his feelings towards you until you had kissed him, but he had felt them strong enough to want you to stay by his side anyways. maybe jeonghan just fell easily, but maybe he was lucky enough to have found his people at such a young age.

you settled back into the crook of his arm and asked him what he thought about seokmin coming over to join you two for christmas. while much of the world celebrated with family, it was more of a hallmark holiday in korea, often times spent with a long time sweetheart or a budding romance. or both, in your case, jeonghan supposed, when you were distracted trying to find the third christmas music lp you had specifically gotten for the occasion (out of eight, of course, because you didn't want to run out of christmas music). he was leaning against the tasteful home bar that had been hardly touched since halloween when seokmin shyly admitted that he knew jeonghan was interested in him.

he said nothing for a moment. "she told you?"

"kind of, back when you were in japan, but-" seokmin paused. "i think she was just suspicious, but i should have known. you were always too kind to me."

"not too kind," jeonghan said, hiding behind his wine as he sipped at it, trying not to show his embarrassment.

"i think i'm interested, too."

he looked at seokmin, who was staring down at his hands. "are you sure?"

"i'm-" he paused, catching jeonghan's eyes for only a second before scratching the back of his neck. "i think so. i've never even thought about doing anything with - uh - men. until you."

"that's okay," jeonghan said, looking to where you were flipping through records. "i didn't like women until y/n."

seokmin faltered. "wait, really?"

he nodded, a small smile on his face. "i thought i was gay. turns out i'm not."

"but you-" the musician stretched his jaw. "weren't you kind of a player in college?"

he almost said something about how having sex to meet an end and keep an appearance was different than enjoying it, but stopped himself when you announced that you had found the lost record, switching the lps with a flourish and setting the player again. and while he was curious about the level of seokmin's interest in him, he was happy to leave the conversation where it stood when you excitedly rejoined them at the bar.

"do you think i could be a bartender?" you asked, leaning over the counter and grabbing an unused shaker.

"probably," seokmin said.

"for sure no," jeonghan laughed.

you pouted at the latter, holding the shaker between your hands as you directed your attention to the former. "thank you, seokmin. i appreciate you encouraging my dreams."

"any time," he joked.

jeonghan rolled his eyes. "what about that music degree i'm paying for?" he asked, taking another sip.

"just because you've known what you wanted to do forever, doesn't mean everyone does. maybe i'll change my mind." you tried to spin the shaker in your hand, but the force you used was too little and it stopped on your palm too quickly, clumsily clattering to the counter. you stilled it, exhaling sharply when jeonghan giggled beside you, looking to seokmin. "he might be right."

"it's almost like i know you," jeonghan teased, nudging you. "she was convinced she could become my personal bartender for all of two weeks."

"i tried," you whined. seokmin laughed. "the tricks are harder than they look."

"and you hated shaking drinks."

you put the shaker back, defeated. "the ice made it cold."

"isn't that the point?" seokmin asked.

jeonghan smiled at you. "you're lucky i like wine."

"i'm gonna talk to you now," you announced, turning your body to seokmin. "because you're nicer to me than he is."

"aw," the architect chuckled, and seokmin watched you react to a squeeze at your butt. "did he make you soft? can't take my teasing anymore?"

you ignored him, trying to ask the man in front of you about his lessons, but you yelped when his hand firmly landed on your ass, grabbing seokmin's arm in reaction. he looked at you, seemingly just as shocked, and you tried to continue the conversation, but jeonghan's hand didn't leave, and your entire body was reacting to the way it was slowly hiking up your skirt and running between your thighs.

your eyes fell shut, and you muttered for him to cut it out as your grip on seokmin's arm tightened, but jeonghan just made eye contact with the other male, asking him instead if he should.

without thinking, seokmin shook his head and put his hands on your jaw, pulling you in to kiss him. your moan against his lips was involuntary, and jeonghan grinned as his fingers ran over your core, making you whine.

"did you tell him?" you gasped out, asking seokmin with hooded eyes. he shook his head, saying that he hadn't told him everything.

"told me what?" jeonghan asked, interest piqued as he put down his glass, pulling his hand out from your skirt and placing them on your hips instead, squeezing gently as he stood behind you, and your head fell back into his shoulder without much intention as you licked your lips. "seokmin?"

he pulled his gaze, trained on your mouth, to look at jeonghan, and he felt his breath stop in his throat as he fully processed the sight in front of him. you gasped again, as jeonghan's hand came up to knead at your breast, and you tried to pull seokmin closer, but he didn't stop moving even when he was pressed against you.

jeonghan thought he might faint. he wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but when seokmin's hand found the back of his neck and pulled him over your shoulder, his mind went blank. when his lips found his, his vision went white. when he felt his tongue against the inside of his teeth, he couldn't help but moan, one hand gripping your waist and the other aimlessly tugging on seokmin's shirt, seemingly just to hold something that belonged to him.

"fuck, okay," jeonghan breathed, staring after the musicians lips even when they left. you giggled, recognizing the feeling. "okay," he repeated. "got it. understood."

you spun around, hands on jeonghan's chest. "we prepared something for you," you said, and seokmin's cheeks and ears were bright red when he sheepishly nodded with you.

jeonghan looked between the two of you, swallowing suddenly. "what?"

you tugged on his hand, then grabbed seokmin's, too, when he didn't move right away, leading them both to walk around the couch. you pulled jeonghan onto the cushions with you, kissing him briefly before he realized someone was between his knees. when he saw him, that was when jeonghan's dick woke up, suddenly realizing what was happening.

"be nice," you muttered against the shell of his ear, your hand running down his torso. "it's his first time."

seokmin's hands were strong but gentle, and despite never having touched a dick that wasn't attached to him, he knew what felt good. he needed a bit of guidance from you to begin, less from lack of knowing the process and more because he was nervous, but quickly found a comfortable rhythm. jeonghan sighed when he finally got pulled out of his pants, and you were sucking a mark into his neck, his arm wrapped around you and his hand kneading at your rear. his eyes could hardly stay open when seokmin ran his flattened tongue up the underside of his cock.

"isn't he pretty?" you asked, whispering, a smile on your lips.

he groaned, threading his fingers behind seokmin's ear, desperately trying to hold back his release because he hasn't even put you in his mouth, yet, jeonghan, for god's sake, keep it together. the younger's eyes flickered up to his, and he nearly came just from the feeling of his soft lips around his member, sinking slowly.

"fuck, you're too good at this," jeonghan said, the half chuckle on his lips falling quickly when seokmin's tongue ran over a vein, the warmth of his mouth feeling like heaven. his teeth bit down on his lower lip, watching your hand run through seokmin's hair. he hummed at the contact, his grip tightening slightly, sending a jolt through jeonghan's system. "fuck, i'm gonna cum already."

"there were lessons," you giggled, your hands wrapping casually around his neck. his breathing hitched, eyes falling shut, focusing on the mouth sheathing his cock as he recognized your fidgeting fingers over his pulse. "merry christmas, daddy."

he inhaled sharply right before you squeezed at his throat, and he thought that he should maybe let you lead more often if it was going to feel this good. seokmin seemed surprised by the feeling of jeonghan cumming in his mouth, but he did his best to pump every drop from him, swallowing thickly. you only smiled when jeonghan sat up, leaving you behind as he pulled seokmin's face to his, his hands running up jeonghan's thighs as he kissed him.

jeonghan decided the sunroom extension was all wrong, and that he'd have to redo it.

"you just built that," wonwoo said, having been the contractor that oversaw the construction. "besides, it's snowy season, we can't do outdoor construction. you'll have to wait til spring."

"not outdoor," jeonghan said, rolling out the drafting papers he had drawn up over the course of his new year break, the final pieces being completed in the wee hours of that morning. he had sent wonwoo a text as soon as he thought he would be awake, asking for a meeting despite it only being two days after the new year. "the shell can stay the same, we just need to build indoors. besides, i need this done in february."

wonwoo blinked at him. "when in february?"

"it has to be fully furnished by the 18th."

the contractor laughed at the deadline, only a month and a half out, as he looked over jeonghan's drafts. it would be a tight schedule, considering the structural changes he wanted, but he recognized his long time work partner's determination and knew there was little he could do to argue. "okay. let's get to work."

he turned down a contract for a café to make time for the new home project, but not before recommending they contact a kim mingyu, giving him the vaguest thank you for introducing seokmin back into his life. he didn't have time to draw several attempted variations of every café he had ever designed, he was too busy mapping out the logistics of adding a lofted space to the two story sunroom. too busy planning to tear out the outer wall of your office and picking the right sliding glass doors that would lead to the loft. you had to ask him several days in a row before he finally told you what he had planned.

"a music room?"

he tried to gauge your reaction. "is it crazy?"

you broke out into a smile, studying his design, gripping the mug that held your latté that morning. "absolutely, but i love it."

he asked you to help him pick instruments, saying his wishlist included a white grand piano and three to five guitars that could be displayed together. he also told you to pick out your dream computer setup for production - you were graduating that year, afterall, and it was about time you started using something other than your laptop and a midi controller to make music - and you almost started crying from how fucking excited that made you.

hiding the plans from seokmin was the hardest part, especially when he started spending weekends at the house. he saw the construction area often, and one friday afternoon, he had even asked if he could help, leaving you to usher him away and assure him that jeonghan didn't like help when it came to these things. he believed the white lie, allowing you to distract him with the option of watching shit television in bed, even convincing him that tonight was the night to surprise his new boyfriend. seokmin laid in bed with his arms wrapped around you, trying not to move too much, fully aware that even the slightest movements in his body caused his dick to come to life, until the last of the workers left and jeonghan appeared, asking if there were dinner requests before he went to take a shower.

seokmin had been training with you for over a week. you had bought him some toys, even helped him try them out in the comfort of his loft, and he got increasingly excited - generally, but also in those moments - to show jeonghan what he had learned. the surprise he had been keeping had already made him beg you to cockwarm him as he waited, but you refused on account of knowing him, and by extension, knowing that he would not being able to stop himself. he had a bit more confidence, though it may have only been fueled by horniness, when he pulled the vaguely sweaty architect toward him on the bed. he tried to say something about how he should really wash up, but seokmin just kissed him, hands gripping around his skull in desperation, his dick already hard against jeonghan's pelvis.

jeonghan's hands wandered, as they usually did, and when he reached down to palm at seokmin's ass, he reacted in a way that earned him a questioning glance.

"we - ah-" his eyes shut, jeonghan's hands getting closer to his surprise. "she's been helping me-"

and that was when he felt it. the small, hard handle of a plug, situated between seokmin's perky asscheeks, easy to feel through the loose fabric of his shorts, and jeonghan felt his arousal tenting his pants just from the concept.

jeonghan hadn't even noticed your movement off the bed until a bottle of lube hit his leg, looking down at it briefly before looking to you.

"i'm gonna go clean up," you said, running a hand through your hair as you retreated to the bathroom, leaving jeonghan with an already flustered seokmin.

before long, he had him on his back, naked, and finally got to see how sweet his little ass looked when jeonghan pushed his knees towards his chest. when he saw the black knob fitting tightly into his hole, he groaned, his own bare cock flinching in need. he put a hand on seokmin's dick, gripping it lightly, then put a thumb against the plug.

"nngh- fuck," seokmin stammered, fingers gripping at the bedsheets as his neck stretched out against the pillows, bucking into the hand wrapped around him. "j-jeonghan…"

"this is cute," he said, slowly moving his thumb in a circular motion, the plug's movement making seokmin let out choked moans. "but i really need to play with you now."

seokmin nodded, hurriedly, brows knit together. "please."

he hooked his fingers under the knob of the plug, slowly pulling it out and relishing in the reaction. the younger's back arched in a way that jeonghan wished he could see from every angle, knowing that the way his shoulders and back looked must have been incredible, but satisfied by just watching the way his mouth hung open and his eyes clamped shut, his fingers gripping at jeonghan's hand where it stayed on his dick.

he began to pump the dick in his palm, setting aside the plug and grabbing the lube, popping it open with just his left hand and quickly squirting a healthy amount onto the tip of seokmin's penis, making quick work of spreading it completely over the engorged member, the slickness making him moan even louder and reach out for jeonghan's shoulders.

he let seokmin tug him over him, kissing him briefly before looking down at where the younger's thighs spread over his, wanting nothing more than to just fuck him already.

jeonghan's hand left seokmin's cock, leaving him whining against his lips, but it was short lived as his lubed fingers slid down to his puckered hole.

"seokmin," he muttered, studying his face. "you're sure, right?"

"fuck, i've been wanting this for since christmas, jeonghan," he sputtered out, eyes barely able to focus when there were fingers teasing his entrance. "yes, please, i'm sure."

jeonghan slid a digit into the tight hole, watching seokmin's face as his brows creased and his head fell back, a moan tumbling from his lips. another finger, jeonghan decided, and the reaction was similar, making him smirk.

"god, you're ready, aren't you?"

"please," he begged. "i want you."

jeonghan sat back, and the musician got on his elbows to watch as he readied his cock with lube, putting more on his finger and spreading it around seokmin's hole. he whined when jeonghan placed the head of his dick at his entrance, tugging him over him again.

"i'll go slow, okay?" jeonghan assured him. "tell me if i need to stop."

seokmin just nodded, eyes trained on his, and they locked lips as jeonghan pushed his hips forward slowly, the man under him immediately moaning and huffing against his mouth.

jeonghan really liked sex with seokmin. he also really liked sex with you. but he was pretty sure he liked it the most when you were both present.

seokmin didn't walk right for a day and a half, and while he was slightly embarrassed, you told him it was a badge of honor he should wear proudly. afterall, he had done the same to you on halloween.

"how's your butt?" you asked when he came down the stairs, the sunday morning after they had done the deed without you, making him choke out a laugh as you got his tea out of a cabinet in jeonghan's kitchen.

"better than yesterday," he said, gingerly seating himself at a stool. "but not as good as friday."

you eyed him. "before or during?"

seokmin thought a second. "both."

"good morning," jeonghan said, quickly planting kisses on the man and then you, cheek and lips respectively based on the convenience as he walked past you, making his way to the espresso machine. "i think i'm gonna work on the sunroom today."

"today?" you asked. "wonwoo's gonna say no."

"wonwoo isn't getting invited. i still have to find furniture," he said, rinsing out the espresso shot glass and wiping down the portafilter. "we're getting close to deadline, i need boo to order the upholstery job on tuesday and i have a meeting tomorrow."

"when's deadline?" seokmin asked, wondering why he had one for a home project.

jeonghan blinked at the wall, not even turning towards the younger. "don't worry your pretty head about it."

you pouted, closing the short distance and wrapping your arms around him, your chin on his shoulder. "it's sunday. can't we cuddled puddle?"

"you mean like we do every night?" jeonghan asked, but grinding espresso beans so you couldn't answer the rhetorical question, packing down the grounds. "if you want to cuddle puddle, don't get out of bed so early."

you huffed as you dropped your arms, leaving him to prep a glass for his americano. "whatever. seokmin and i will have fun without you."

"what kind of fun?"

you stick your tongue out at him, using a teasing voice when you said "wouldn't you like to know."

innocent fun, was the truth, but you thought it was a victimless bluff. you spent the morning sitting on the couch with seokmin while a record played, discussing everything from your favorite movies to your weirdest dreams. you had to get up every six songs or so to flip or change the record, but seokmin liked that every time you rejoined him on the couch, you got closer to his side until you were eventually snuggling into his side, arms wrapped around his torso.

the innocence stopped when jeonghan emerged from his study, joining the two of you for a break. he planted himself on the other side of seokmin, under his arm, letting his hand not-so-subtly run over his thigh. you noticed the contact, peeking around to jeonghan.

"what kind of break are you looking for, hannie?"

he adjusted. "an inspiring one."

you giggled, recognizing the euphemism he used whenever he was stuck on something for work as you leaned back again. "that means he's horny."

seokmin sputtered out a laugh, jeonghan chuckling at your direct observation. "it's hard to not think about you two sitting out here, having fun without me."

"you may not believe it," seokmin said. "but i don't think sex was even on the table for us two today."

jeonghan's eyes met his, and he swallowed harshly. "can it be on the table for all three of us?"

the comfort of returning to bed was hard to deny, especially when they had you laid out against seokmin's chest as he was pressed against the headboard, his mouth attached to your neck and his fingers twisting a nipple, all while jeonghan was digging his digits further into you with his tongue flicking against your clit.

seokmin grunted, rutting his hips against your back. "fuck, he looks good there."

you gasped, nodding, biting at your lip as he kneaded your breast, your fingers digging into jeonghan's hair. "you both do."

jeonghan never struggled to pull you apart, his deft fingers and teasing lips making you squirm and moan until you were shaking, mouth hanging open as your vision blurred and he told you you tasted like candy.

"minnie," jeonghan prompted, making the younger sit up with you whining against him to clean your taste off his fingers. his dick throbbed in need, watching the singer's agile tongue against him, wishing it wasn't just on his fingers.

seokmin had to practically beg jeonghan to fuck him again, but his only hesitation was that he may not have recovered yet. seokmin was on his back and gripped at jeonghan's thighs, urging him forward as your hand twisted around his thick, throbbing cock.

jeonghan swallowed, pausing despite being covered in lube and in position. "you're sure?"

"yes," seokmin said, gasping at your hand on him. "jeonghan, i appreciate you asking, but i'm always sure when it comes to you."

you weren't sure you had ever seen jeonghan blush like that in bed, and you smiled against seokmin's neck as he groaned, his cock firming in your grasp as the older pushed into him. you admired seokmin's silent scream, his head lolling to one side at the feeling.

"angel," jeonghan sighed, settling into the way seokmin squeezed around him. "what do you wanna do?"

you teased a thumb over seokmin's slit. "i wanna ride."

"f-fuuck-" seokmin panted, his hips resting against jeonghan's spread thighs as his knees hung to either side. "i'm not- nngh- gonna last."

"you don't have to," you said matter of factly, adjusting to straddle his torso. jeonghan winced, watching your form as he pumped into seokmin. "we're done when daddy says so."

you put your hand, palm up, over your shoulder, and jeonghan chuckled at the recognized motion for him to spit on your fingers - usually, so that you could slick his dick to sit back on it. you worked jeonghan's spit over seokmin's engorged cock, then slowly lowered yourself onto him.

seokmin stared up at you, eyes fluttering and mouth open, suddenly not only feeling impossibly full, but also absolutely stuffed into you. he moaned out loud when jeonghan bumped into his spot, overwhelmed by the simultaneous pleasure. you fell forward onto his chest, holding yourself up with shaky arms as your face hovered over his, both of you trying to hold off your own demises.

then, jeonghan pushed himself deep into seokmin, who whined, his dick pushing up against your cervix. you nearly collapsed, whimpering as your forehead fell to his, gasping into a desperate kiss. jeonghan groaned, his hand running over your hip as he looked at the intersection of you all, staring at the way you barely contained all of seokmin before he leaned forward and kissed your spine.

"you two will kill me," he said, one hand holding you firmly at your waist while the other gripped seokmin's thigh as he picked up his pace. you both moaned, fingernails digging into the plushest part of your thigh when seokmin questioned how much longer he could hold out at jeonghan's unrelenting pace.

a long, high pitched whine fell from his lips. "fuck, i need to cum," he rushed out, bleary eyes barely opening as he looked at you.

"hang on, baby," jeonghan said. "ladies first."

you babbled against seokmin's lips, somehow never being able to get used to the way he filled you, though jeonghan pushing him into you didn't help. you could do nothing but repeat curses in increasing pitch, pushing your face into seokmin's neck as your walls clamped down around him. his mouth gaped, desperately trying to not succumb to your plush insides before he got the okay.

jeonghan smiled at how seokmin tried to focus on him, despite his hands gripping you as you shook against him. "go ahead, baby."

so seokmin went. and god, he went, coating you internally, immediately squeezing out around his stuffed cock and onto his lap, making jeonghan pant as he kept his hips moving, chasing his own end. he leaned forward, chest pressing against your back as he fucked into seokmin, not stopping until his eyes were clamped shut and he was painting his walls white.

there was a long period of time where none of you moved, then another after you had all managed to untangle from each other. jeonghan sat back, leaning against a hand and scratching his brow as he breathed heavily.

"bathtub cuddle puddle?"

you laughed, chest heaving as you looked over to him, but it was seokmin who spoke. "that sounds nice."

he started to get suspicious when his birthday got closer.

jeonghan told you to suggest a dinner outing for that night to divert attention, but he had caught you moving one of the guitars for the music room only a few days before his birthday, and he looked at you with squinted eyes when he asked if it was for him and you hurriedly said no, hiding the guitar behind your back despite him clearly being able to see it.

"i panicked," you told jeonghan, eyes wide. "he saw it in me. he could tell it wasn't just the guitar."

"it'll be fine, y/n," he said, pushing around potted plants until they satisfied him. "he has to think it's weird that we haven't let him see this room yet, anyways."

you chewed your cheek, looking around the almost completed sunroom. the tall windows showed the light snowflakes falling from the sky, not quite thick enough to leave a layer but enough to make the enclosed yard look slightly pastel. despite the open space that looked out into the cold seoul winter, it stayed cozy, heat radiating from the floorboards and the faux fur rugs laid across them. the space near the entrance had a raised floor with a grand piano, along with several guitars hanging upon the wall, while the area partially covered by the balcony had two heavily cushioned, dark heather gray couches and a bright armchair, adorned with pillows and cable knit blankets.

jeonghan had a slight obsessive nature when it came to his home projects. he was meticulous with contracts, too, but he truly wanted this house to be perfect - not just for him, but for the people he loved. so you watched him rearrange pillows about four more times before you ran up the stairs to the loft to see if he had changed anything there since you had looked the day before.

it almost felt as though it was outdoors, with plants hanging off the edge of the railing and the rustic desk he had originally picked for your office placed to one side. you imagined doing schoolwork here, fantasizing slightly about watching seokmin play piano from your vantage point as you wrote essays. you slid open the glass doors to peek into your new office.

he had painted the walls white, taking a hint from the styling in your own apartment when he picked out a neutral toned couch and light wood shelving, your early graduation present of a computer set up spread across an L shaped desk. he had even paid to have your upright piano moved here, and cut into the next room over to give you more space for an electric drumset. you couldn't help but smile, imagining your friends coming over to record stuff with you. you had always felt strange about inviting them to your rich boyfriend's house, despite him insisting they were welcome, but he had really gone through the trouble of making a room so perfect for all of them that you had no choice.

and it was brighter, you thought. you had told him you worked better in bright spaces.

despite jeonghan's promises, the music room renovation felt like it was as much a gift for you as it was for seokmin. though, maybe he couldn't help it, when the reasons he loved you both overlapped so much.

you went to seokmin's apartment the next day with a bagged gift for him, arriving again right as his client was leaving, and you smiled at the same young man you had seen the first time you had come to visit seokmin. you knew his name now, not because you had spoken to him much, but because you had been told about him by his teacher, and you congratulated him on getting a gig the upcoming weekend.

"oh," jisung said, glancing between the two of you. "he talks about me?"

you laughed and gave him a fighting, seokmin looking upwards to hide his embarrassment as he ushered his student toward the door. "have a nice week, jisung! i'll try to be there this weekend," he said, throwing you a look as you giggled.

"it's not for guitar, you don't have to come," the younger assured. "but if you want to, bring your girlfriend!"

"yeah!" you said, putting your fists on your hips. "i'm getting you dinner for your birthday tonight, the least you can do is take me to an underground rap show!"

"okay, both of you, no more talking," seokmin said, trying and failing to prevent jisung from stopping in his tracks at the news that it was his birthday.

"woah, teach, happy birthday!" he laughed. "you weren't gonna say anything?" he kept talking even as his teacher pushed him out of his apartment.

you couldn't stop grinning when the door closed, seokmin turning to you. he pointed at you, trying to hide his smile as he could only get out a vaguely annoyed "you."

"happy birthday, baby," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. he softened against you, smiling as you pulled away, his hands on your waist as he thanked you quietly.

"he asks about you a lot," seokmin said, joining you when you laughed at the fact. "i think he has a crush on you."

you rolled your eyes. "stop bragging about me, then."

"i don't brag," he said, smiling into another kiss. "i just tell the truth. i can't help that you're a dream come true."

you only pulled away from him to grab the two thick paper bags that you had set on his couch. "c'mon, we gotta head out. open your presents."

seokmin's mouth dropped open when he saw the logo on the bag. "wait, you didn't."

"i had to," you said, giggling as he grabbed one and tugged it open, moving to the couch to pull the garment out. "you said you wanted it."

"where did you find one?" he asked, staring at the corduroy parka from the brand you saw him wear constantly. "they've been sold out for weeks!"

"i got it before then, duh." you poked his cheek when he pouted at you, his eyebrows knit. "there's more, stop getting distracted."

seokmin hugged you extra tight as a thank you for his romantic crown haul, and he decisively pulled on the golden yellow shirt with the pizza on the back, making you grin at how perfectly jeonghan had predicted his thought process before you dragged him out of his apartment to go get dinner.

"we're just picking it up," you said, jangling a keychain. he gave you a quirked eyebrow, and you giggled, pulling him over to jeonghan's car. "do you wanna see it self drive?"

you pushed the side door closed with your butt and called out to jeonghan, saying the birthday boy was here. seokmin took the pizza boxes from your arms and put them on the kitchen counter as jeonghan walked around the stairs.

"well one of us has to change," jeonghan said facetiously, and seokmin looked down at the yellow shirt peeking through his half zipped parka, looking back up at jeonghan, who was wearing the same shirt.

"wait wait wait," you giggled, turning around to undo the zipper of your own jacket, pulling it open as you spun around to reveal that you, too, were wearing the shirt.

seokmin looked between you two with wide eyes, his eyebrows creasing. "you got us matching shirts?"

"pizza shirt gang!" you giggled, stripping off your jacket. "do you like them?"

he smiled into a disbelieving laugh. "how did you know i would put it on?"

"because we know you, minnie," jeonghan said, reaching for his hand after he took off his new coat. "before we eat, i finished the sunroom today, wanna see it?"

"hang on," seokmin stopped, making his hand fall from jeonghan's. "that's not the gift, right?" he looked at you. "the sunroom isn't the gift?"

you pursed your lips, looking at the ceiling, and seokmin started to argue, making jeonghan laughed. "who cares if it's for you, i just want you to come look at it."

jeonghan is pretty sure he always loved seokmin. it wasn't something he would ever be able to change about himself, he figured, as he watched his lover cover his face with his hands, sinking to crouch on the floor as his eyes looked around the large room that was lit by fairy light. the first thing he had seen was the piano, which made him gasp, then he saw the guitars, and looked at your smiling face, suddenly connecting dots, unable to stay standing from the shock as he understood why he hadn't been allowed to help.

and then he started crying.

the two of you ushered him to a couch, sitting him down as he sniffed back the tears. you sat beside him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and cooing, jeonghan crouching on the floor in front of him.

"i'm sorry," jeonghan said, smiling slightly as he gave him an apologetic look. "i didn't mean to overwhelm you."

seokmin choked on a laugh, wiping at his cheeks. "how did you think i'd react?"

"i don't think he thought about it," you whispered, knowing full well jeonghan could hear you.

"i got a little carried away," he admitted, hand rubbing comforting circles on seokmin's leg. "you're special to me, so i wanted to make something special for you."

"this," seokmin said, looking around, gesturing at his surroundings. "this?"

the older huffed out a laugh, almost embarrassed. "yeah, this."

seokmin laughed too, eyes wet as he looked into the other's. "i can't believe you would make something this incredible for me."

"you're incredible," jeonghan said. "i want you to feel welcome in my home."

"i couldn't believe the record wall, either," you offered when seokmin seemed speechless, pressing your cheek against the his shoulder, hand rubbing his back. "jeonghan's love language is a little unique."

seokmin sniffed one more time, studying jeonghan's face, his brow creasing ever so slightly. "holy shit, i'm in love with you."

your heart stopped as you pulled away slightly to look at him, then jeonghan, who was frozen.

"i didn't realize that's what this was," seokmin said, hand gripping the one on his thigh. "i knew i liked you, but this is-"

jeonghan rose quickly, seating himself at seokmin's other side and kissed him. "i love you," he said, thumbs wiping over his slightly damp cheekbones. "it's taken me years to admit it, but i love you."

seokmin kissed him again in response, his face feeling hot from the continued attention. he broke away, only to look around the room again, jeonghan studying his face with a smile as he did.

"i think," seokmin said, clearing his throat when the words came out weak. he looked to you, then to jeonghan. "i think this is the best birthday i've ever had."

jeonghan laughed. "we haven't even had the pizza yet."

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