#and start your shit. and then complaining how unresponsive they are

[solidcarbon]

.

[sevenf1ng3rs]

His Burden: Chapter 9

Word Count: 2.2K

Pairings: Namjoon x Reader

Genres: Innocent!Reader, Troubled!Namjoon, Blossoming Relationship, Big Secret, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Humor.

Rating: 18+, Mature

Warnings: Angst, Smut (rough sex, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism)

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

Chapter 9: Can't I just be happy?

NAMJOON POV - NEXT DAY

"You seem happier today," Jin says, eyeing Namjoon as he sits on the couch and smiles deeply, lost in his thoughts.

"What did you say?" He responds, still barely listening.

The group is gathered in Namjoons house, this time with the addition of some of the guys' girlfriends. Jade and Yoongi have been dating for almost three years, while Taehyung only recently discovered that Tiffany was his soulmate. Namjoon imagines what it would be like to have you here one day, getting along with his friends.

"I said that you looked like you shit rainbows and brushed your teeth with sprinkles." Jin deadpans, tired of Namjoon's unresponsiveness.

"Can't I just be happy?" Namjoon says, still smiling.

"Just tell us already," Yoongi butts in, piquing the group's interest.

"Well, I got a killer blowjob last night, so..." Namjoon replies, a proud smile on his face.

"Yeah, same, but I'm not sitting by myself and smiling like a creep," Taehyung responds, Tiffany quickly slapping him on the shoulder for his response before looking away while blushing.

"Besides, you know that's a dangerous game," Jin adds.

"No, this time is different. I think she's the one," Namjoon counters seriously.

"Are you sure you don't just like her for her body?" Hoseok asks carefully.

"I mean, was the BJ just that good, or are you in love with her."

"Both dude, this is the real deal," says Namjoon, sure of himself.

"Nah, bro, you've gotta be sure," says Jimin.

"What if something happens?" says Yoongi.

"What would you do if you-" Taehyung starts.

"What the fuck is this sudden intervention?" Namjoon cuts the group off, anger pouring out of him.

"We just don't think it's right to risk her future like that," says Jin.

"I didn't complain when you found Jungkook, did I? Or when Taehyung found Tiffany. Why are you so stuck up on what I'm doing? Why aren't you happy that I found someone I love?" Namjoon stares at them in disgust.

"I agree with them. You really should be careful," says Yoongi, Jade smoothing a hand down his back in an attempt to ease his tension.

"What the fuck do you know about any of this? You should be happy that you can fuck your girlfriend as much as you want. Don't even pretend you know half of what I'm feeling right now," Namjoon seethes.

"Bruh, I've known you since kindergarten. You think I don't understand? Look at what we all had to go through last time you fucked up," Yoongi says. Hoseok adds, "We've all known you for a long time. We're saying this because we care about you."

"I told you not to talk about that; I'm done here," Namjoon pushes himself off the couch and storms over to his bedroom, slamming the door and locking his friends out.

"I'm guessing that's our cue to go,"

-----

Namjoon sits on his bed, his head pulsating in thought.

They don't know anything. They don't know our genuine connection and how right it feels to be around her.

But...what if they're right? What if I make another mistake and end up ruining her? I can't let that happen. The more I think about it, the more I realize I am just a danger in her life. I love her, but isn't love also about doing what's best for someone? What's best for her might just be a life without me.

He sighs angrily and looks at the ceiling deeply as if the answer to his problem is written there. He sits and thinks for what feels like hours, spiraling into despair and self-hatred.

We can't be together. He decides with finality. She's perfect, and I'm a monster. I can't let her be sucked into my life with the possibility that hers will end.

---

Two Days Later - Your POV

It's been two days since you and Namjoon have seen each other, and it has been complete radio silence on his part. You've texted him multiple times and have been carefully observing the door, willing it to open and for him to walk through it.

Thankfully, you share a shift with Ben today, who can cheer you up perfectly.

"Have you picked up shifts recently? I feel like I've been seeing you more often around here," Ben says to you while you work side by side.

"Yeah, I'm trying to work as much as I can to get my mind off something," you say, yawning, not realizing you've overshared.

You and Ben rarely talk about your social lives, and he's merely a fun work friend.

"Anything I can help with?" He asks, hoping to help you through the trouble you're evidently going through.

"I'm not sure, honestly. I'd try anything at this point," you say.

"Well, there is a party tomorrow night. It's supposed to be huge. Maybe you could let loose a little?"

"That's what everyone says," you respond.

I'm so tired of hearing the same thing; I need to cut loose. Maybe that's why Namjoon's not responding, Because I'm not fun enough.

"Maybe they're right. Come with me. I can pick you up tomorrow at 8. Just text me your address," he says to you hopefully.

"You know what, sure," you say, giving in.

You continue the shift together, talking about the party and how fun it will be. Ben claims that everyone in the area is bound to show up.

Maybe Namjoon will be there. Doubtful. He isn't the party type.

—

Later that day

I'm so tired. I need to shower and hit the hay.

You fall into a deep sleep, thoughts of Namjoon stuck in your mind.

"Babe, come here," Namjoon says to you, grabbing your hips and drawing you closer to him. "I want you so bad,"

"Tell me what you want," you boldly respond, tracing his jawline with your nail and bringing his lips dangerously close to yours.

"I want to fuck you, hard and fast, right in front of my windows. I want the whole world to see how good I make you feel, how willingly you open your pussy, just for me. How I have to stuff my cock into your leaking hole, forcing it to fit, stretching you out, and making you take it. Im going to fuck you so good you won't be able to walk for days. How does that sound?" He counters, his lips brushing against yours with every word.

"Do it," you reply, "Show everyone how well you fuck me."

Namjoon picks you up and throws you on the end of the couch closest to his large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. He drags your ankles to make your hips meet his, starting to grind down on you in long rolls.

"Take your top off. I want to see your tits bounce when I fuck you," he demands, already taking his shirt off in the process.

You take your top and bra off, tossing them to the side, and roll your hips against his to feel the friction. He grabs the waistband of your pants and rips them down your legs, underwear in tow.

"Look at you, so helpless under my touch," he coos, "Let's see how long it takes for me to break you, shall we?" He says, pushing his pants down his thighs and grabbing his throbbing cock from his boxers.

"Give it to me. I want it so bad," you moan up at him, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him down onto you.

"Baby, I'm going to give it to you so good you'll forget your name," he says, placing the tip of his dick atop your leaking pussy and stroking it back and forth.

He's not even inside you yet, but the pleasure makes you a moaning mess. The tip of his dick hits your clit perfectly with every upstroke, and your wetness encapsulates him, causing the perfect slide, but you want more. He's working you up so well that you start to squirm.

"Please put it in. I can't take this anymore," you claw at his shoulders and push your tits into his chest.

"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you," he responds quickly before pushing his dick inside you without another word.

He immediately pushes it to the hilt, his dick threatening to push past your cervix. He doesn't wait to warm you up, establishing a blinding pace already. His balls slap your ass with every thrust, so powerful that you're pushed up further on the couch every time his hips meet yours.

"God, Namjoon, it's so good, God, it's so so good," you moan uncontrollably as he bites his lip and looks you in the eyes, an animalistic hunger behind them.

"Yeah, take my fucking dick, just like that," he calls out absent-mindedly, the pleasure enough for him to lose himself as well.

"You're so fucking tight; your pussy is heaven," he praises you repeatedly, pounding into you impossibly faster.

You can only moan his name and claw down his back, grabbing him so hard that blood starts to pebble on his smooth back. Namjoon growls at the pain, loving the way you take him.

"Fuck. On your hands and knees. I want to fuck you from behind and watch that perfect ass," he says, pulling out of you roughly and flipping you around effortlessly with no warning. He yanks your hips and pushes against your lower back, forcing you to arch for him. How he handles you is so hot your pussy clenches around the air and causes more of your juices out of you. Namjoon grabs both of your asscheeks and spreads them wide, looking at the mess he made of your insides. He slaps one of your cheeks harshly, then licks a long stripe across it to ease the pain. You scream out at the pleasure, his roughness only making you wetter.

Without warning, he pushes himself back into you and starts fucking you inhumanely. One of his legs is propped up on the couch for leverage, and his hands are grabbing your hips and pushing you back and forth roughly to meet his hips. One of his hands releases your waist and slinks in front of you, rubbing the bundle of nerves that makes you see stars.

"Ah, Namjoon, fuck!" you exclaim as he rubs you harshly, unable to control yourself under him.

"Your cunt fucking loves me. You love this dick, huh?" he growls at you.

"Yes!" you exclaim, barely able to comprehend the question.

His hand continues to rub your clit, and the other clutching your waist, comes down to your face. He yanks your torso by your chin, making your sweaty back reach his chest. He stuffs two fingers into your mouth, and on instinct, you start sucking them, eager to please him however you can.

"I bet you wish this were my dick. You want me to fill up every fucking hole you have, don't you?" he asks, still pushing into you at an insane rate. You can only blubber around his fingers that fill your mouth, saliva starting to escape your lips and run down your chin.

"Look at you, such a pretty girl getting fucked so well," he bends down and licks your neck, biting it harshly as he finds your most sensitive spot. You clench your eyes shut and moan around him, your legs trembling. The only thing holding you up is his arm across your chest. You feel so close to your release, only needing a little more for it to cum finally, and he knows it too.

"Fucking cum. Now." He whispers in your ear, and it's all you need to see stars. You moan uncontrollably, shaking and thrashing in his hold, as your senses start to deteriorate, and all you can feel is pleasure. You come down, and Namjoon keeps thrusting into you, his hips stuttering slightly, signaling he's close.

"I'm going to cum on those tits. Turn around, quick," he frantically helps you get onto your back, pulling out and pumping himself harshly. You arch your back, presenting your tits to him, and it only takes a few more strokes before he paints you white.

"Ah, fuck, babe," he exclaims as he comes down. "You're so good. You take my dick so well," he says, wiping your chest with the shirt he threw onto the floor.

"Let's go to bed," he whispers as he catches your eyes closing sleepily. You hum in response, and he scoops you up to bring you to his bedroom, where you cuddle under the covers, bare skin against skin.

"I love you," you whisper before the room darkens and sleep claims you completely. 

You finally wake up from the craziest dream you've ever had, panting for air as if it were real life. You check the clock beside your bed.

Fuck, it's 5 am, I have to go back to sleep. I have work today.

With that, you fall back to sleep, hoping to wake up to a text from Namjoon.

[the-archangel]

Johnny's Guitar

“It’s too damn hot,” complains Kerry as he dangles his feet in the pool and begins his second strawberry daquiri of the morning, “we’d be better off inside, I reckon with the blinds down and the air-con on it prolly isn’t more than 80 or 85 in there.” He has a point, the sun in the City has been relentless for weeks, creeping up to the low hundreds with people advised to stay in their homes, but Kerry has never been one to follow instructions, however sensible they may be.

Johnny has been keeping out of his way for most of the morning, he knows how pissed Kerry gets when he wakes up to him instead of V, it’s not like he does it on purpose, though it is nice to be able to stretch V’s ‘ganic legs every now and again. They’d come back from a job late last night after two straight days of recon, V was just exhausted. Johnny can feel him at the back of his head, awake but unresponsive, he’s not too worried just yet, but will go over to see Vik if the situation hasn’t improved later.

“Since I’m here,” Johnny offers, “we could crack open the guitars, have a jam?”

Kerry pauses mid-sip, how many years had he waited to play with Johnny again, just wished that they could jam together and recreate that magic? He slides his shades down his nose to look the other man in the eye, “Nah, don’t think so, thirty years ago maybe but not now.” Johnny shrugs like as if it meant nothing to him anyway, “Your old guitar’s still here somewhere,” Kerry reminds him, “not gonna stop you if you want to give it an outing.”

Grunting non-comittally, Johnny stalks back inside, he remembers giving the guitar to Kerry after that gig at the Red Dirt, but it was way before he and V were together so he’s got no idea what Kerry did with it afterwards and the idea of sorting through the detritus all over the villa to look for it isn’t particularly appealing. Johnny stands in the doorway, fists resting on V’s hips and surveys the room.

“What’ya looking for?” V appears next to Johnny, sitting on the arm of the nearest couch.

“My guitar, the one we gave to Kerry. Any ideas?”

“Na, not seen it. Nance is still pissed with me for giving it away though, I know that.”

Technically, the guitar hadn’t been theirs to give. Nancy had had it in storage for all these years along with most of the Samurai stuff and it would have gone straight back there if it hadn’t been passed to Kerry.

“She’ll get over it, but where the fuck is it?”

They begin to semi-methodically search the villa, starting upstairs through the lounge, bar and bedroom, then down again until they were back where they started. “We could just ask him?” V suggests.

“You ask him since you’re up and annoying again.” Johnny tells the merc, taking a seat to allow him back into his body without it falling over.

It takes just a moment to readjust, V makes his way back out to the pool, Kerry looking warily over from his position on a lounger, but soon brightening as he recognises his input’s walk and cheeky grin. “Thank fuck V, you feelin better?”

“Yeah, all good. Listen Ker, we’ve looked everywhere for that guitar, can’t find it. Can you remember where you put it?”

“Hmm,” Kerry puts down his empty glass and leans forward, brow wrinkling in concentration, “nope, no idea. I was so hyper after the gig, plus I’d taken all kinds of shady shit to get me through it, don’t remember much about it if I’m honest. Must be around somewhere though.” Shrugging he sits back and holds his hand out for V to sit next to him. They pass the afternoon sipping various cocktails and lounging in the shaded end of the pool, the guitar all but forgotten.

-

The weather has finally broken, thunderstorms have been lashing the City for two days, it’s been especially bad up here in the hills with no shelter from the worst of the rain and hail. This sort of weather brings out the worst in people, as well as a spate of other thefts, Kerry’s precious Aerondight has been stolen and despite it being found within a couple of hours of it going missing, Kerry is still mad as hell and V is on the warpath.

“Those fucking fuckers!!” Kerry has been stomping around his scratched and dented car since it was returned nearly an hour ago, “I’m gonna rip their fucking shitty heads off of their pathetic shoulders when I get my hands on them.”

“I told you I’d deal with it Ker, I’ve got a lead I’m gonna follow up but you’ve gotta promise to calm down and not do anything dumb.”

Kerry’s head whips up to look the merc in the eye, “You bring them here when you find them, I want to deal with them personally!”

“Not sure that’s a good idea, but I’ll let you know what I find. Gotta delta but I’ll be back later, don’t worry, I’ll deal with it.”

Rogue’s got some info for him so V heads off to the Afterlife, not a lot goes on without her knowing about it and the low lives who klepped the car had been on her radar for a couple of months now, it’s just fortunate that she’s got a merc itching to bring them in without her needing to lay out any eddies for it. Mercs working without a fixer walk a dangerous path in the city, all too easy to tread on someone’s toes and for these guys their time was up. V heads straight to her booth and she waves him inside.

“V, I’m glad you called. Had a report that these two gonks were trying to sell a million eddie car for ennies and figured they must be who you were looking for.”

The car had been recovered because of its state-of-the-art tracking device, how the thieves didn’t realise it had one was beyond V, they must be the dumbest of the dumb, but for once the NCPD had done their job and tracked the car to a back street in Arroyo where the perps were attempting to sell it to a Tyger Claws gang boss. As soon as the police entered the scene the street emptied of all but the car, which was recovered and returned to Kerry, the Tyger Claw was pissed at being taken for a ride and had gone to Rogue to request vengeance, it was rare a day fell so fortuitously for anyone in this City.

“I’ll pass you the deets of the last place they were holed up, I doubt that they’re still there but it may give you some clues as to where they are now.” A glow of her irises and the details land on V’s holo.

“I’m on it, I’ll keep you posted.” He says, already half-way to the exit.

-

V sits with his engine idling outside a warehouse in Little China. When he got the address he couldn’t help but smile, he knew this area like the back of his hand and could feel that the goons were nearby. He wipes the thin trail of blood coming from his nose away with the back of his hand, shit, not now. “Johnny?” he shouts hoping to shock the Rockerboy into making an early appearance.

“You look like shit, we need to deal with this situation before worrying about a pair of unhinged gangoons.”

“Na, promised Kerry. You need to find them, I’m….I’m not…”

Johnny feels the Porsche around him, solid and purring. V would be mad as hell if he didn’t follow the job through, so against his better judgement he turns off the engine, pulls up the deets and heads into the warehouse.

It’s empty as they expected it would be, fast food receipts litter the floor and there’s no shortage of potential clues, but where to start? Johnny picks through some of the paper on the floor, he can feel an itch at the back of his head, V is getting impatient, but he just doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He wanders into the back room, an old laptop lies abandoned on the desk, surely they can’t be that dumb? Johnny’s netrunning skills are non-existent, but enough of V is awake to give him an in to the computer, messages going back days scroll up the screen, they really are that dumb, muses Johnny.

 Ten minutes later, Johnny is watching from behind a wall as various dubious-looking individuals come and go from a house in Kabuki, he reckons he’s seen seven go in and maybe three come out, he’s pretty happy with those odds. The messages pointed to this being a hot drop point for klepped goods, looks like they were right on the money. Staying low, Johnny makes his way to the back of the building, he’d spotted a ledge that he can probably climb up and launch a surprise attack on the inhabitants, he’s more than ready for a scrap, but before he can pull himself up to the second storey, a familiar sound stops him in his tracks.

The DeLuze Orphean is one of the rarest and highly sought after guitars in the world, especially if it has the pedigree of having belonged to a bone fide Rockerboy like Johnny Silverhand, but these bozos seriously have no idea of what they’ve gotten their hands on. Johnny’s eyebrows knit together in disgust as he hears his beloved guitar being subjected to what sounds like an horrific murder before the opening bars of Pon Pon Shit are tortured out of its strings. He is going to go absolutely ape on their asses when he gets in there, no mercy.

Johnny had bought the guitar with the first Samurai pay check he ever received, sure Kerry had largely written ‘Bleed the Beat’, but back then they shared everything, credits included, and both were more than happy with their pay day after years of living off klepped booze and cigarettes. He’d kept it with him all through his career playing it on his solo work way after Samurai disbanded. Before the Red Dirt gig, the last time he’d seen it had been at Nancy’s apartment the day before the tower fell, he'd can’t even remember now why he’d gone there with it, maybe to say goodbye, but he left it there and walked away. Now he very much wanted it back.

He feels for his gun in the back of his pants, taking comfort in the weight of it, and pulls himself up easily onto the ledge outside the upper-storey window. There’s no-one in the room on the other side and the fucking amateurs have left the window wide open, an open invitation for anyone to step inside, so Johnny does, landing with a thump which surely would have alerted anyone downstairs, but no, his luck is holding and with revolver in hand he makes his way cautiously down the stairs.

V is beginning to come around, but he’s aware enough to know that taking over now would be a gonk move and Johnny seems to be doing OK anyway, but he can feel the merc in his head, tense and increasingly alert. “Too bad we can’t see ‘round corners.” Johnny thinks, V hums in agreement. Shreds of conversation make their way up the stairwell,

“C’mon Louis, four fifty’s a decent price,”

“I dunno, looks pretty old and beat up, I’ll give you two hundred.”

Johnny winces, brand new it cost over twenty thousand eddies, with its history it’s worth many times that now, to him though of course, it’s priceless. “We’ll see who looks ‘beat up’,” he mutters under his breath rounding the corner at the bottom of the stairs. Two of the goons are sat on a tired looking couch, the Orphean on the floor between them, if V were here they could take them down silently, but Johnny’s never been shy of making a noisy entrance. Two heads turn towards the doorway at the sound of the Malorian’s hammer being cocked, two faces are forever caught in a rictus of surprise as Johnny’s bullets find their brains.

The other problems at hand are momentarily forgotten as Johnny makes a bee-line for his instrument, he frowns at the blood-spattered paint-work before deciding it actually looks kinda cool and carefully places it back in its case.

“You did good Johnny,” V appears beside him, arms crossed and nodding as he looks at the stunned looking bodies, “but they’re not the ones who klepped Kerry’s car, reckon they must be cowering in the kitchen somewhere, sit down I’m coming in.”

Sighing Johnny perches on the arm of the couch, only someone who knows them really well would notice the transition, but it’s V that now stalks into the other room, gun in one hand, knife in the other. He was quite right, the two remaining goons have their backs up against the counter, arms raised, and are already stringing jibberish together in what V presumes is a plea for their lives. Whilst the gun holds one paralysed and sobbing, the other decides that sprinting for the backdoor would be a nova idea, until a knife pins his arm to it that is.

Mercs are not famed for their forgiving nature, especially when they’re working on their own time recovering (or avenging) the klepped goods of their friends. “We didn’t klep the guitar,” the pinned goon wails, “it was in the trunk of a car we found, just wanted to make some easy eddies.”

“This car,” V growls, keeping his voice as even as he can, “where exactly did you ‘find’ it?”

“Arroyo,” the sobbing goon at the point of V’s gun blurts out, “left behind after a NCPD bust.”

V kinda admires the quick thinking but doesn’t believe a word of it. “And before that?”

A look passes between the two men, the door-guy licks his lips and gulps nervously, “You’re the merc ain’t ya? That old Rockerboy’s input? I’ve seen you in the screamsheets. Look, maybe we could come to some kinda deal?”

“Yeah, maybe,” agrees V shooting him cleanly through the heart and causing the man crouched in front of him to soil himself, “but I guess we’ll never know.” He looks down at the pathetic sight at his feet weighing up his options, these guys were clearly a shit tonne out of their depth, but Night City is the wrong place to look for sympathy or forgiveness. “You’re going to tell your chooms what happened here, ALL of it, if I don’t hear a rumour about a dickhead merc left crying in his own shit for messing with Kerry Eurodyne sometime in the next 24 hours then I will hunt you down. Understand?”

Driving home with the guitar in the back and Johnny in the passenger seat V taps his thumb on the steering wheel along with the crappy music on the radio, Johnny sees V’s taste in most things as a project for him to work on, musical taste most of all. “I can’t believe that Kerry left my fucking guitar in his trunk all this time, anything coulda happened to it.”

V smirks, “We did good there, made a solid team.” he offers to the flickering image beside him, Johnny nods pensively,

“Yeah, too bad it can’t last.”

They pass the rest of the journey in a thoughtful silence.

-

Having very slightly calmed down since V left hours earlier, Kerry stares at the blood-stained knife that V has dropped onto the bar in front of him, “Ha, fuckers! You messed em up first, right? Course you did. They won’t be messing with us again in a hurry.” He doesn’t notice the flush of V’s cheek when he refers to them both as ‘us’.

“Nah, think we’ll be good,” he replies, grinning at the gossip on the feed from the Afterlife, “Don’t think anyone will mess with us for a good, long time.”

[cute-chamomile]

listen, i'm holding on to this job by a rapidly thinning thread. more under a read more because I'm tired !

Now in short: a year ago I was tasked with maintaining this library that's essentially the communication system between the components of the company's big product. So when something bad happens to this library, bad things happen. everywhere.

Why was I tasked with this? Well! The guy who wrote the library (senior developer, I hear he was very good) wrote this thing super quickly and then got poached elsewhere. Before he left, they tasked A PART TIMER/INTERN PERSON to maintain this BIG, HARD TO UNDERSTAND, SUPER IMPORTANT library. He... he did his best. But, like me, he didn't fully unterstand it, and in the end he underperformed/started being unresponsive and got fired.

Enter me! Not really understanding what this beast does, only touched this technology in a very amateur-like fashion. I spend some time trying to understand it, I do some minor tweaks based on issues that had appeared in the past, I'm told I'm doing a good job. I cannot tell you how much this is above my paygrade and my skillset and how much nobody can really guide me through this because nobody understands this thing. This super big library, hard to understand, left to me, person with 3 years of experience, to handle.

Now. There have been times where things have gone Badly, and even when I've been like "Hey! I'm updating The Beast! Please check your shit because I can't possibly check it all" I've gone ignored. Furthermore, when you have super critical services, you try to set up alarms so that if something goes wrong, You Know. Well! With this thing! We didn't know shit! There's been at least 2 times where things have gone wrong with this library (currently trying to handle the second one) and because it's a communication library, nobody suspects it might be the culprit and people chronically don't check their own components when things go wrong AND because this library has spent so much time being in the hands of people who don't understand it, the necessary alarms just. Aren't there.

I am bothered with how much management has underappreciated this library and the effort it takes to maintain it. I am scared of how many different things might go wrong and then we just don't know about them until someone complains or I, for one reason or another, dig into logs. I am not fit for this at all, I have 4 years of very messy experience, meaning I have been doing fullstack for those 4 years, which is like doing 2 jobs already. And management is just chill? They don't care? I don't understand? This is chillness to the point of danger. And I don't feel safe in the fact that they made me take up this risk without anyone being able to help me. I have a coworker who offered and did help but he has his own things to do and he took the initiative himself instead of being officially tasked with helping with the library. What I need is someone else to be responsible for this, and I can help here and there, but I cannot, possibly, be asked to be responsible for something that might crash and burn without us even realizing it.

[sabineelectricheart]

Opening Up. A Bit Too Much.

Summary: After Pierce talks her ear out, Tati wakes up late for work.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1000

Notes: People, when presented with the opportunity to talk and express themselves, are usually overexcited. I assume that celebrities and their world of carefully managed images would be much worse.

At first, when Tatiana met Pierce Sutton, famous video blogger, and they began to truly converse, he did not seem like much of a talker. He was evasive and full of canned responses that would not communicate anything at all. He thought he was very smart and very wily, trying to get extricate himself out of conversations, and perhaps it would work well on those coked-up semi-celebrities, but she was better than that and rarely cut him any slack.

Good thing she did not, because he eventually began to feel more secure, and she could get to know him better. On the other hand, she does come to regret it on occasion, since, for the love of God, he will not shut up. It can get annoying pretty quickly, above all in situations such as the one they find themselves in that evening.

The woman understands the optics of it all, and she is ready to argue it is not like that. She still loved him with her whole heart, but is mature enough to know that she can still love and appreciate him and resent the fact that he is bothering her at the same time. He knows that she had a shift tomorrow, that she had to get up early to make it in time, that she still needs her job, loathe it as she might, but he refuses to leave her well alone for her to rest.

Some people are bound to get wrong orders in the morning.

Her eyes become much too heavy and she can barely keep her posture standing straight. Pierce notices that she has become unresponsive soon enough and nudges her lightly with his elbow.

“Are you going to talk to me?” He whispered to his half-asleep girlfriend lying beside him.

“I’m so tired, Pierce.” Tati mumbled, barely cognizant. “I’m sorry, but I have to sleep. You know I have to go to work early.”

A small tug is noticeable in his lips, but he acquiesces without any further complaints. “Yeah, I know. Get your sleep, you need it.”

Pierce moped, then grabbed a book by his bedside and flipped to his marked page. The light was bothering Tati, but she had no energy left to complain. Soon after, she was gone to the world.

Morning came much too soon, and the light shined through the curtains hanging over the window. Birds chirped away and a soft breeze blew on the large glass that formed most of the wall that corner of the room, making a restful dull noise vibrate on the otherwise silent space.

Tati slowly opens her eyes to the dull grey of the ceiling, before rolling over to see her boyfriend peacefully sleeping. She smiles, satisfied, as she knows that he needed it as much as she did.

She looked over his shoulder to see what time it was, surprising herself with how late she is for work.

“Shit.” She whispered to herself, barely supressing the urge to shout in anger.

The young woman jumped out of bed, and the sudden shift of the bed awoke Pierce. He watched her move frantically around the room with morose confusion, as that sleepy haziness has still not lifted from his mind.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked, rubbing his eyes and focusing his sight forward. “Tati, slow down.”

“I can’t!” She shouted as she dug through the drawers that he set out for her, trying to find something suitable to wear. “I’m so late, Pierce! The goddamn clock didn’t ring.”

Finding just enough clean clothes inside the dresser, Tati tossed them onto the bed and threw her pyjamas off while trying to brush her hair at the same time.

“Tati. Tati, listen! You’re going to be fine. Just tell them you had car trouble or something.” Pierce tried to reason. “If you start freaking out, it’s just going to get worse.”

The woman took a deep breath, then squinted her eyes at him. “I could punch you right now. I blame you squarely for this mess!”

She resumed panicking about the time, all on the while she hobbled around, trying to pull your shoes on. The young man, in turn, had not even gotten out of the bed yet, he was too focused on his girlfriend and her crazy energy. He cannot deny it is at least a little bit funny.

Tati ran to the mirror and ran a comb through her hair, then spun around.

“Does my hair look alright?” She asked.

“Yeah, it looks fine. Could I at least make you breakfast?” He offered.

“No time!” She grabbed her shoulder bag and rustled around inside for the essentials. “Shit! Pierce, do you know where my keys are?”

She ran around the room, throwing things to the side, hoping to uncover them.

“Right here.” He held them up, tangling on his index finger.

Tati quickly grabbed them and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, hun. You’re a lifesaver.”

She did a quick last scan of the room, trying to see if she can remember anything else she might have forgotten. It was no easy task, as the place looked like a warzone, and anything that could be missing is likely buried under dirty laundry and cosmetics.

She should seriously consider cleaning up in the afternoon.

“Okay, I’ve got to go! I love you!” The woman said and ran out the bedroom door.

“I love you, too!” He called to his girlfriend before he heard the front door slam.

He slouched in the bed, sighing softly. Alone again, with little to do during the day other than recording a few videos and waiting for her to come back.

“That’s one way to start the day.” He mumbled to himself, though hardly vexed with the events.

Pierce went to the kitchen and made some food for himself. Eggs, bacon, hashbrowns. He wished that Tati could have at least stayed to eat breakfast, but duty calls. He would make sure to make her dinner.

*_*_*_*_*

College Craze Masterlist

[salvosfinest]

Stardust to Stardust - Ch. 5

A mission.

“Surely it can wait--” “It can’t.”

That was four days ago. All Darius was allowed to do was watch as Siebren’s stress levels spiked and dipped, fluctuating wildly in a high-stress environment.

“You’re getting too attached.” “Because he’s a person--” “He’s a means to an end, Darius.”

He had his doubts before. Now they were only solidified. But he couldn’t leave Siebren alone. He saw how greedy Moira looked when she was introduced to him. He couldn’t leave now. Not without a plan. One that he’d have to hide close to his heart.

“Incoming.”

That was twenty minutes ago. It’d take some time to get Siebren across the base, especially if he was combative. He could barely pay attention to the work he had busied himself with while waiting for his patient - his friend, now - to be brought to him.

Unconscious. He was carried between two men, expression on his face serene and bruised. Taking the weight of the armored man was a task in and of itself, but it was possible for Darius to move him unassisted - thanks to Akande’s “upgrades.” Ones that he designed himself...

Forgoing the “guest room” in his lab, the armored Siebren was placed in his own bed - one that he didn’t have to curl up on to fit. There was a delay in how he laid, but eventually he rolled onto his stomach, cheek pressed against his ruffled sheets. Better.

Looking about his room, Darius finally let out a heavy sigh, sitting on his couch. He rubbed at his eyes and cheeks, finding the stubble that he had forgotten to shave. He liked it. Sure, he was starting to gray, but he had always disliked his face shape without it. Ah well, if someone complained, he wouldn’t care. Lowering himself, he gazed across the dim room - then shut his eyes. Finally, he could relax.

...

“Darius.” Siebren had him suspended in the air. “Stop moving so much.” He was acrophobic, how dare he--!

“Darius. Darius, wake up.”

THUMP.

“Shit!” That hurt. Oh, he hit the coffee table. The lights were on, but his glasses were somewhere. He could barely make out Siebren’s face above him. Oh. “Well that is rare-- here, come on.” He was lifted onto unstable feet, finding the change in gravity around him highly disorienting. “Ah-- Siebren, I thought we talked about that.” Darius mumbled sleepily, reaching out to the table for his glasses. They were here, right? Where--

“Stop moving, you--” Darius’s skin nearly prickled as his jaw was grabbed - and his glasses summarily put on his face. Oh. No armor. Had he showered? Those bruises looked bad-- “You were making noises in your sleep. Do you normally do that?”

“I’m not sure - it’s been some time since someone has shared the same room as me.” He couldn’t be this close to Siebren for too long. Lest he become impulsive. Pulling away, he tried to move his left arm, finding it to be... entirely unresponsive. Furrowing his brows, he moved to the bathroom--

“What’s the matter?” Opening his mouth - he found words difficult for a few seconds, like the connection between his brain and mouth was throttled. “My arm. I usually-- am alone, so, I...”

“Want privacy. I’ll be here.” There was that warm tone that struck his heart just right, but he forced it down. He hid away in the bathroom, setting his glasses on his sink’s vanity. He struggled with his shirt for a few minutes before forcing it off, then he found the release handle for his arm, catching it by the elbow as it loosened and pulling it straight off. Better.

The mirror offered an all too honest view of his scarred torso, and he had to look away quickly. Right, he was no longer a younger man. This is who he was. It was easy to forget when he rarely looked at himself. Stepping out with his arm in his one hand, it was tossed on the bed without a second thought, rifling through a drawer for a tank top. It was pulled on and tugged at to get just right on his torso. “You have tattoos?” There was a curious voice behind him - then fingers on his shoulderblade. It was simple, a hexagonal pattern with the colors of an artificially purple ocean inside of it. It hid a scar rather well. “First, you curse when you wake up, and you have tattoos. That is ignoring the missing arm--”

“The eyes.” “The eyes. The apparent love for games, and the fact that your age seems to fluctuate every time I see you.” “It depends on how caffeinated I am, Siebren.” His hair was ruffled then, causing him to swat at the hand atop his hair. It was rare a man was taller than he was. “Relax. I know you’re worried about my health and what happened, but relax. I wasn’t the one that was squirming in my sleep.” Shaking his head some, his hand went to rub the back of his neck, circling around the large man that way he could pace properly. Better. Moving was good.

“I was having a dream, when you had me in the air. I never told you why I was so scared.” He could feel Siebren’s eyes on him. “I was terrified. I am... afraid of heights. It was entirely irrational, just--” The next instant, all light was blocked out and the frames of his glasses were smushed into his eyes. Oh. Oh. “I never knew, I thought it was just a normal reaction. I... understand, now.” Darius counted, mentally, the seconds that passed.

Five. Ten. Twelve...

“I missed this.” It was barely audible, but he caught it. Realizing that he could not keep pretending that he didn’t want to hug the man, he used his one good arm to give Siebren a squeeze. “I missed you.” Sighing heavily, Darius turned his head that way his frames weren’t stressed, eyes closed. “It was quiet. I worried, and wondered, I was terrified. You’re... a special kind of man, Siebren.” “Considering you’re not calling me Doctor... I will take it as a compliment.” He felt the weight of the other’s head atop his, and feeling how close, how real everything was, it clicked in his head. “He’s a means to an end. A weapon.”

If Talon wanted, Siebren, the brilliant astrophysicist, could be dead tomorrow. Swallowing the tension that grew in his throat, Darius made the smallest gestures of his head, moving slowly to cup Siebren’s cheek and kiss the other.

No resistance. It’s like he understood. In fact, it was returned-- with a soft chuckle. “You’re scruffy, you know.” Another kiss. Never in a millennia would he have guessed- “I could get used to scruffy. Fix your arm and hug me properly, as you would say- you dork.” Oh, he was in deep. Shuffling back, he caught the beaming smile on Siebren’s face, which seemed to dry his mouth instantly. It was like he was some clueless twenty-something again, not nearing fifty! Gods help him.

Fix your arm. Fix your arm. Right. “R-Right.” He whispered, practically speedwalking the six feet to his bed to reattach his arm - and beat on the deltoid some. OW. Owowowowow. Oh. Working. He’d have to get it properly fixed sometime later but--

Hug me properly. That was easy. Both arms found Siebren, squeezing him close - but not tight. He knew that he might be sore! The squeeze brought out a bout of laughter from the man, both hands touching his bare biceps. The flesh on his right pricked up again, unused to being touched so freely. “So strong. Perhaps we should get used to this.” How casual everything was, the touching, the open shows of affection-- “I could so get used to this.”

He found himself squeezed to Siebren again, practically curled into him on the very same couch he fell off of earlier. Safe. They were safe.

And he could get used to this.

[nnight-dances]

ABOUT XIAO

summary: you encounter xiao, the mysterious and hot stranger, and find yourself falling for a boy who is shy and has the smile of another world.

pairings: xiao x gn!reader

genre: fluff!

a/n: i'm not sorry about how much i love xiao :(

you first see xiao in a flea market outside of college

and at first, you didn’t even realize he went to the same college as you

you are not to blamed though; he looks too cool to be someone you’d find amongst the soulless faded-sweats-adorning heathens that was the rest of the student population.

here he is in a sheer green shirt that matches his teal-dyed strands perfectly and ears covered by worn-out headphones that were slightly too big for his head.

he looks like someone with places to go to, with the way he certainly sifted through the racks of clothes, zooming in and out of stalls.

so you weren’t to blame when your entire body stiffens when you see him making his way to your very own stall.

you cough as if in greeting when he stops in front of you, eyes fixed on you, piercing through your whole being, making you a little weak in the knees.

you cough again, looking down at the table in front of you, “welcome, would you like to take a look at these scented candles? i have quite a collection of uncanny smells.”

the boy raises an intrigued brow, “uncanny?”

you smile cleverly, having roped in god-knows how many customers with your inventory of weird candles. “um, well,” you pick up a short dark blue candle, “this one, it smells like existential angst.”

he keeps staring at you as if waiting for the punch line but you smile wider, holding out the candle for him. hesitantly, he takes it from you.

“it just smells like... nail polish?”

you raise a shoulder, smugly, “that’s what i said.” he looks visibly taken aback by this exchange and you can see as he tries to decide whether or not you’re completely shitting him.

he scoffs, “this is stupid.” but the green-haired boy doesn’t keep the candle back in its place and if you look close enough, the corners of his mouth are upturned.

you suppress another smile, taking on a serious look, choosing to ignore his last statement, “i also have one called bruise that smells like a clean hotel room, if you’re into that?”

you literally have no clue why you want to sell your candles to this unresponsive boy who just described one of them as stupid, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that his short nails are painted black?

“or not,” you sigh, a bit disappointed, “sorry, i don’t mean to pressure you into buying from me. that would be highly unethical.”

“do these actually work?”

you perk up at his question as he turns around the dark blue candle in his hand, eyeing the purple one you’d offered as well. you huff out a chuckle, “because i’m telling you they do. i don’t run this stall for money. uhm, and also if you have any complaints i go to college near-”

“i know,” the boy glares at you, suddenly cold as if you’d personally offended him, “we go to the same college, you know.”

“wh-” you slap a hand over your mouth, cheeks reddening. the boy ignores you as he shuffles through his tote bad (because of course, he would carry one of those).

“how much are these?”

“uh, sorry, the nailpaint one is $12 and bruise is for $5.”

he looks like he wants to complain about the price difference but keeps his mouth shut as he hands you the money.

as he starts to turn, you leave over the table, knocking over a few candles, but manage to grab his wrist.

“hey, i’m really sorry. i’ve never seen you around so i assumed... god, i’m so terrible. please wait a second-”

you signal him to stay as you disappear underneath the table and return with a thick silver ring with a piece of jade green stone in the center. you place it in his hand, “i also make jewelry sometimes and think this would look very pretty on you. i’m y/n, by the way.”

“oh—? that- that’s fine,” the boy’s ears turn adorable pink and you giggle a little as he slowly accepts the apology, “xiao.”

“you didn’t get enough sleep again.”

you yawn as if on cue as yanfei, your best-friend slash self-designated mother, hits the back of your head in disappointment. “c’mon, all i need is coffee and i’ll be good to go.”

you push open the door to the local coffeeshop, thankful to find there are only three other customers in line. you pull yanfei with you as you stop behind a tall woman.

“what were you up to this time?” she asks you, nudging you sternly. you roll your eyes, “nothing really. work.”

yanfei shakes her head knowingly and sighs in defeat as she fixes her gaze on the menu instead. you take out your phone skimming through your notifications in case there was something important.

“hmm, i have to go pick up a—”

you bump into another person thanks to the fact your eyes were busy with your phone screen. you shriek as you see the cup of coffee in the stranger’s hand almost spill over the two of you before they hold it with their other hand.

you look up, apology ready at the tip of your tongue when you meet a pair of yellow-brown irises and let out a shocked, “xiao!”

xiao’s expression shifts from one of cold hard annoyance to amusement as he nods, “y/n.”

you almost groan at the dryness of his response but then you catch a glint of the jade ring on his middle finger and laugh, “i see you liked my ring?”

he looks down at his hand as if just remembering it was there and flushes slightly, “uhm, yeah, it’s quite sturdy.”

yanfei clears her throat from beside you, “y/n, we have to order now.”

you look between her and xiao, conflicted because who knows when the elusive teal-haired boy will ever appear in front of you again?

“i- i can wait,” xiao’s voice cracks a little as he adds, “if you’d like.”

xiao is shy, you come to know, in the weeks that follow the conversation you and yanfei share with him that evening at the coffeeshop. it was a short one, and all xiao had told you was that he was studying film and that he liked being alone most of the time.

you’ve started seeing him around campus more than ever, catching glimpses of his dark sweaters in the fall and sometimes you stopped him for a chat. (”lookin’ good, xiao!” “i feel like shit. i have no time to talk. i must finish my portfolio.”)

he is shy but he comes to find you in the library, which is where you revealed you’d spent most of your time.

the first time he visits you you’re in the middle of finishing the twilight saga, trying not to burst into laughter when you replay bella screaming at jacob for nicknaming her daughter after the loch ness monster—

“so this is what you do here?”

“fuck,” you swear, and almost surrender to death when you see xiao half-smirking at you in your red-handed embarrassment, “xiao?”

he calmly pulls the chair next to yours, propping his face into his palms, “is that twilight? i thought you real taste.”

“first of all, i was taking a break from finishing up a paper for class. and secondly, fuck you for insulting twilight. it’s an understated work of art.”

your throat is a little dry as xiao eyes you seriously, probably trying to figure out if you’re actually crazy enough to love twilight.

“what are you doing here?”

it’s xiao’s turn to be flushed, “um, uh, i was here to check out an autobiography for class.”

you laugh, pointing to the sign behind you, “here, in the fiction section?”

the poor boy stands up, “i- i must have misread the- i’m leaving-”

you take his wrist — you feel like you could become used to stopping xiao from leaving — and pull him back to his seat. “i’m kidding, so sit down. you’re cute when you’re embarrassed.”

xiao averts his gaze, eyes finding the hand which you’d placed on the table. as if in a daze, he touches your index finger— more specifically, the golden-green ring that you wore on it.

“mhmm,” you’re surprised by the contented hum xiao releases, “this is really pretty.”

besides trying to ignore the cold touch of xiao’s fingers against yours, you also try to stop yourself from staring when he finally smiles for the first time since you’ve met him — but he looks a different person. less mysterious as if he has a burden nobody can know of, more blessed like he’s not human.

“do you want one?”

xiao looks back at you, frowning, “what do you mean?”

“i can make one for you,” you say with a grin and when the smile returns to xiao’s face, you think you would make anything for him.

xiao wears a lot of green. as he should, no doubt. it makes him vibrant, and also makes you stare at him a lot more.

“it’s late, y/n,” xiao mumbles sleepily beside you as you hurriedly type your way through a 3000 word essay. you pause to glance at the boy.

he’s in a dark green sweater with blue detailing and has his hair tied back in the tiniest of ponytails. he looks really smart, especially with his glasses on. you meet his eyes, “you don’t have to stay, you know.”

you offered to help him out with a course you’d recently survived and it ended with him insisting to stay till you were also done. to your absolute surprise, xiao rests his head against the desk, turning to look at you.

you scoff, “okay then,” you pat his cheek, almost lovingly, “don’t complain because this is going to take a while.”

and it does take you another hour before you break away from your screen, arms stretching above and a yawn that is replaced by a gasp when you realize xiao is still here, now asleep.

you smile as you softly shake him by his shoulder, “hey, xiao.”

he wakes up creepily quickly, sitting up straight, a stray strand of hair in his face. he shifts, “you’re done?”

you nod, miming a clap while you stand up. the two of you gather your things and just as xiao throws his bag over his shoulder, you step closer to him.

“hmm?” he looks taken aback as you bring your hand up to his face, sweeping the hair away from his eyes.

“your hair was messy,” you explain, spinning on your heel, a little embarrassed by your bold action. albeit not as embarrassed as xiao, who tails you with crimson cheeks.

xiao’s eyes are golden under the moonlight, you find out later that night. when the two of you are splayed across the slightly damp grass.

you’re supposed to be gazing at the stars above but you feel like you might miss something important if you don’t look at xiao just a little longer.

suddenly, xiao’s eyes meet yours, his expression unchanging when he realizes you’ve been staring. “i didn’t see you at the flea market last saturday.”

“i told you i don’t do that for money,” you shrug and then smile at him pointedly, “were you looking for me?”

surprisingly enough, xiao nods, “i would like to actually pay for your creations.” his head lowers to look at his hand, the one adorned with rings you’d given him. “rather than receive them as gifts every time.”

you’d made him two more rings, one that was golden with slits like his eyes and one that was nearly identical to the one on your index finger. he’d specifically asked for the latter, adamantly almost. you’d blushed because it felt much too intimate to gift him that, matching rings.

your blush returns when you see he also wears it on his index. on impulse, you reach for his hand and resort to simply placing it on top of his, lost in the grass. “i don’t mind, xiao. your hands are so pretty, it would be a pity not to have them decorated like this.”

“my hands are pretty?” xiao asks, not because he means to tease you further but because he’s never been told that before.

knowing this is probably the case, you lift his hand and place it between both of yours. “yes, they are the prettiest hands i’ve seen.”

xiao does not have many friends, you soon come to understand. because when you ask for his phone number he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“why do you need that? i’m right here. if something’s wrong, you can—”

“you-” you sigh, “xiao, we’re friends. i should have your number in case you lose your phone, or yourself.”

you’re afraid he might deny your friendship but he silently unlocks his phone, “save your number in mine, too.”

when you’re done, you laugh at how eagerly he’s awaiting his phone. just as you’re about to return to your work, xiao stops you with a hand at your elbow. “i have something for you.”

“woah, what- really?”

he nods as he rummages through his bag to produce a plastic covering what seems to be clothing. he hands it to you, “it’s a sweater.”

it’s dark green. with blue details. “is this— i’ve seen you in this!” you chuckle a little, trying hard to keep the color from rushing into your face.

“i saw you looking over at it a lot the day i wore it. so i bought you one.”

“wow, thank you, xiao,” you smile, “that’s so sweet.”

that day when you return to your room and open the sweater, a piece of paper slips out and onto your bed.

inside it, in black ink: your hands are prettier.

you’re in love with xiao, you realize when you find yourself lying next to him on your bed, in the sweater that he gifted you.

you’re both listening to music, sharing an earbud each of earphones you’d found lying around. for a bit you’re silent, listening to the music and you think about how close you are to him.

you’d really gotten to know xiao, probably why you were so smitten with him now. xiao was observant and likes everything in his work perfect, down to the last detail (a habit which had kept you late in the library). his favorite color was surprisingly blue, not green. he was a very fussy eater and a creature of habit, by result. he rarely smiles, and smiles usually when he’s admiring something.

“what’re you thinking?” xiao turns to his side, shifting ridiculously closer to your side.

you break eye-contact with the ceiling and meet his eyes instead, “not much,” you lie, like a liar.

there’s silence again, much heavier this time, because both of you are looking at each other. in the background, puma blue’s midnight blue starts playing.

your heart races when xiao’s gaze falls to your lips, stilling for a moment too long, before returning.

perhaps as a defense mechanism you sit up abruptly, ears red as the bud is ripped out. “y/n?”

your heart is pounding now as all of a sudden it dawns upon you that you’ve been in love for a while now. “y/n? hey, are you okay?”

you sit back on your hands to shoot xiao, who’s also sitting now, a half smile. “yes, i’m okay. just—”

“did i make you uncomfortable?”

you cough at his question, heart in throat, “why would you make me uncomfortable?”

once again, he inches closer and you can feel the tips of his fingers against yours, “i got distracted.”

hesitantly, you lick your lips and watch as xiao follows the movement, “i don’t understand.”

“your lips... they look very soft.”

you gasp inaudibly at xiao’s bold statement, the back of your hand against your lips, “wh-what?”

as if broken from a spell, xiao launches away from you, red, “oh- um, i apologize. i don’t know what got into me. i just— please, forget this happened.”

before xiao can dig himself any further into a hole of pity, you grab his wrist, pressing your lips against the inside. he splutters as you pull away, “well? are they soft?”

xiao’s hand takes yours, the way you’ve always been dying to, and he pulls you until his breath warms your face. “i couldn’t tell,” his arm is now around you, “perhaps, you’d let me try one more time?”

both of you are way out of your depth, ears and cheeks pink, as you place a hand against his cheek, pulling him closer until you touch in a kiss.

it’s short and when you pull away with a smile, you kiss xiao’s cheek, “pretty.”

[obeiii-mee]

Hello! Can I request an hc about a shady MC who's not phase by anything in Devildom with the brothers (and Diavolo?? he deserves love!!!)? Like, when Luci's like "i CaN KiLL yOu hUmAN", MC's reaction was like "Oh... congratulations then." i need more shady mc who may or may not be planning to ruin your life😂😂 Thanks and take care!!❤❤

The Brothers + Diavolo with an MC that is not phased by DevilDom

__________________________________

Pls I need more shady MC, they would not take any shit from the brothers. Put any Gen Z-er with these guys and you’ve got yourself a suicidal and reckless human exchange student.

They wouldn’t know what to do with one of those ahaksbakanhaka you’re right, Diavolo deserves all the love >:(((((((

You better take care too >:( thanks for sending me this big brain request. I’ve been preoccupied with other projects so I took a while to get to this ask. Hope you’re doing OK💙

____________________________________

Lucifer:

-He thought having a human exchange student was going to be bad enough as it is but this…..this was so much worse than he could have ever imagined

-The moment you arrived, he already knew you were going to be a problem child and a persistent one at that

-Literally the first thing you asked him was : “Why do you look like an off-brand Levi Ackerman?”

-And he was left there, astounded, confused and offended because he had no idea who you were talking about (cuz at that point you hadn’t met the third eldest) and the tone you had was, frankly, pissing him off

-You kept wondering off on your own????? Without looking like you gave a shit even though you almost walked into a butcher’s shop that specialises in human meat???? Tf MC?

-Also really irritated that you couldn’t be intimidated and that DevilDom was like a playground to you, for some reason? Like, MC get out of the fiery pits of eternally tormented souls- this is Hell, not the McDonald’s ball pit ffs

-Things did not improve for him lmao, by the end of the first week he had already ripped out a good chunk of his hair because of you

-“MC, you should know by now provoking demons like this for no good reason is only going to make life harder for you. Keep this up and you’ll get killed in no time because of your behaviour.”

-“Great, can we have a hip-hip and a hurray?”

-In the span of one day, he’s had to come to your rescue six times (approximately) because you’re too nonchalant about your surroundings around literal creatures of hell

-He doesn’t have enough coffee or will to live for this bs

-“Lucifer, I found this dead plant and brought it here because it reminded me of you.”

-“…..sigh. Why? Why does it remind you of me?”

-“Because it’s cold and unresponsive.”

-He made the consecutive decision to ignore you

-(low-key kept the plant tho)

-Honestly, you get on his nerves a lot and he has definitely contemplated killing you in the past but at the end of the day he really can’t bring himself to do it

-We both know he tried a few times lmfao

-“I will tear you limb from limb, human-“

-“Can I finish my tea first.”

-“You…wait, what?”

-“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting this tea get cold. Try to kill time before I’m done and I’ll smash this cup against your head.”

-If you try hard enough, you might even elicit a laugh out of him, especially if your shadiness is directed at any of his brother which results in him patting your head affectionately

-Nowadays he’s just concerned because you seemed to have made an alliance of sorts with Belphagour and Satan and that’s not a good sign

-For his sake, if not yours, at least try to survive the year without getting chomped on by a random demon please

-He’s too stubborn to let you die just because you’re unbothered by everything so cut him some slack and help out damn it

Mammon:

-“Oi Lucifer, how come I’m stuck babysittin’ this stupid human?”

-“And how come I’m stuck with this asshole for a tour guide, with his fake ass designer shoes and no brand sunglasses. That’s a lot of smack talk from someone with crow shit stains covering the back of his jacket. Also, did you stick your hair in a bucket of mayonnaise?”

-……..

-He was so offended lol

-Normally, humans like you cower in fear whenever demons are as much as mentioned because of the whole “I can eat you whole” thing

-And here you are; insulting the Avatar of Greed and one of the princes of Hell himself just because you didn’t like his attitude

-Don’t worry tho, he warms up to you in less than a fucking month simply because you still come to his rescue whenever his brothers start insulting him and wow, look at that, his heart is now combusting on the floor

-“Y’all have no right to criticise Mammon when he has the most self control out of all of you.”

-“Since when does Mammon have any self control? He can’t keep himself from nicking anything that looks shiny.”

-“Motherfucker, I don’t see him trying to choke me to death, respectfully pls shut the fuck up. I don’t want to say I have favourites but if I do, it’s definitely him.”

-While Mammon’s in the background, with hearts instead of pupils in his eyes like ❤️👄❤️

-He doesn’t even mind running around after you anymore (will still complain about it though because your ass is in constant danger and he’s had enough)

-Honestly, you keep starting shit with random demons, some of which are quite powerful mind you, and you don’t back down even when he’s there to step in

-Would low key love to watch you fight one of your classmates at RAD and organise a ticket selling booth for the event but Lucifer will hang him a new one if he does

-So for now, he sticks to baring his teeth at the aggravator in question and you’re there, giving the same demon the middle finger

-The way you sometimes match his energy gets him so hyped up lmao

-“Mammon, did you steal Levi’s money again?”

-“T’s none of her business human. Now go away, shoo!”

-“Bitch, don’t ‘shoo’ me, I ain’t a bird. Now tell me, did you?”

-“…..Why do you ask?”

-“Because a new flavour of instant noodles just got announced, called ‘Super Hell-Sauce Flavour’ and I thought you might be more interested in that than wasting the money on gambling.”

-“….ok but only if you come with me to buy some.”

-This…this is true love right here

Levi:

-Oh no, now there’s two of you

-Why do I feel like his energy would match MC’s almost immediately? Maybe it’s because he spends too much time in his room on the internet like the rest of us do

-“What do you want, you stupid normie?”

-“300…..”

-“….300 what?”

-“300 mangas collected, thousands of episodes of anime watched, over 60 character figurines, plushies, body pillows, merchandise and several posters only to be called a fucking normie by a demon weeb that’s only known me for 10 minutes.”

-Boom, instant friendship

-He becomes attached to you almost immediately and now that he knows how unphased you are by DevilDom, he is seriously worried

-Hell, you’re making him consider going outside his room just to make sure you’re alive and not dead in a ditch somewhere because you decided to get on someone’s nerves that particular day

-Even during the quiz thing, when he almost kills you, you’re just sitting on the floor and awkwardly watching him as he throws a sissy fit

-Levi feels sort of conflicted with you because one one hand you’re good company and he loves having you around, you’re his Henry after all

-But on the other hand, you put yourself in so much danger it makes him paranoid so often to the point where he wants to keep you locked in his room and wrapped in bubble wrap

-Nearly had a heart attack when you almost walked right into a pit of lava like MC???? This isn’t one of his video games???? You’re not gonna respawn if you die????

-Besides all that, he gets a bit jealous of you confidence and your ability to just do whatever without fearing death or consequence

-“MC, how do you do it?”

-“Do what?”

-“How do you go about your life without a care in the world?”

-“I guess I’ll tell you my secret Levi. I’m not like other humans that’s why, I’m just so unique I do things differently.”

-“You sound like a pick me-“

-As long as you’re OK and not injured because of your carelessness, he’s indifferent about your behaviour and will even applaud you for your bravery when it comes to this sort of thing

-“lmao the human exchange student just dumped Solomon’s cooking in the trash while looking him dead in the eye 💀💀💀”

Satan:

-Your attitude towards DevilDom and demons in general kept him entertained, if nothing else

-You rarely seemed to consider how much of a threat that place really is and usually you were just running around, completely ignoring Lucifer’s rules and doing your own thing

-Which, you know, he’s all about

-I can’t say there were no incidents between the two of you

-With his short temper and your tendency to say things without caring about the consequences, there were definitely moments when he might’ve snapped on you

-“MC for goodness sake, what happened to my room?”

-“What do you mean?”

-“It’s an absolute mess! I just told you to bring me my spells and curses book, not mow through everything!”

-“It’s not my fault this place is built like a fucking labyrinth. You should be grateful I went to get it for you at all, I almost tripped and died several times on my way back. Also, you should get a new ladder for your shelves. It did the broken.”

-“MC….”

-“Yes?”

-“You are so lucky I love you.”

-Other than the fact his anger takes over him when things like these happen, he not so subtly encourages you to keep going because seeing Lucifer scowl at your antics gets him wheezing his lungs out

-I like to think Satan would be very impressed, even in the beginning, at the amount of nonchalance you can radiate at times

-I mean, you sure as hell don’t see it often and he loves how unpredictable you are more often than not

-If anything, he should probably thank you-idk how, but his patience has increased significantly every since you got here and he appreciates having some more control of his emotions

-“I’m gonna go put oil in Lucifer’s shoes.”

-“Do you have a death wish?”

-“Satan, I am old enough to make my own decisions and I concluded that this action is necessary.”

-“Necessary for what?”

-“Raising everyone’s morale! All of you seemed to feel down lately so I thought this would be fun for everybody!”

-“Except Lucifer, right?”

-“Except Lucifer. He grounded me from my D.D.D like I’m a fucking teenager who needs to be supervised-pssshht, I’m the most responsible one here.”

-“Yes clearly.”

-“Goodbye dear Satan, I may die today. But it’s for the greater good! (Dramatic exit with sound effects)”

-“WAIT MC!”

-“(pops head back in) yes?”

-“May I offer you my assistance?”

-You’re basically taking turns pranking his brothers and it’s hilarious

-Satan is not too worried about your well being simply because he knows his siblings and him are always going to be nearby to save you if you pull something stupid again

-Even so, he checks up on you throughout the day; just to make sure

-“Where were you?”

-“Running from a bunch of demons. Who wanted to go munchy crunchy on me, I assume.”

-“……”

-“Either that or people here are a lot friendlier than originally expected.”

-You can be such a handful and it really tests him, especially when he’s angry enough to begin with

-But despite your amazing talent at either getting completely lost around Hell, purposely walking into a prohibited place just because you felt like it or riling up others with how blunt you are, he still cares about you deeply

-You may be a pain the ass, but you’re his pain in the ass <3

Asmo:

-He should’ve known something was up with this particular human when you stood there, completely calm and collected, while Beel salivated at the thought of eating you on your first day

-Asmo just brushed it off for a while but it kept happening???

-The first time Lucifer ever told you off, you really went and said “Or what? Are you going to eat me? If so, you can go ahead and start with-“

-He came to your rescue and covered your mouth before you got to finish and before Lucifer unleashed his wrath on to everyone in that house

-“OOPSIE! I think MC has been spending too much time with me. Sorry Lucifer, we gotta run now! We have a party to attend, don’t we MC darling?”

-“You mean the one hosted by the guy that tried to kill me because I shoved into him on the hallway at school and then proceeded to tell him to go fuck himself right back into whatever hell hole he was born in before you came and charmed our way out of it?”

-“Yes.”

-“Ah OK. “

-You’re tiring for sure but you’re not exactly unlikeable

-You have a certain charm hanging about you that Asmo loves

-“I almost died like…30 minutes ago.”

-“WAIT WHAT?? WHY?? WHAT HAPPENED-MC ARE YOU OK???”

-“Yeah, I almost drank some poison today because someone told me it was water. It smelt off though so I didn’t.”

-“….”

-“Anyway, I got you this bracelet on my way home.”

-He really does wish you would take things a bit more seriously

-This is your life on the line, you know? What would he do if you died?

-“MC, you’re not immortal, you can die so much more easily than I can, you know that right???”

-“I don’t care.”

-“Well I do! And you should too….”

-A lot of people don’t see past his vanity tbh, because he can be such a caring person towards the people he loves

-The amount of videos he has of you appearing to be completely calm while pure chaos is descending in the background is pretty impressive

-Every time he uses his charm on you to try and get you to commit his sin, it just doesn’t work???? For some reason???? And even if it’s just with simple, innocent affection for now, he is determined to tempt you into it

-“MC~gimme a hug!”

-“But that’s social interaction and I don’t support it- do you have a charger for my D.D.D by any chance?

-Or at least die trying to ig

-Asmo loves having you around but you’re giving him wrinkles and that’s not okay >:(

Beel:

-The moment he realised how carefree you actually were, he sort of started checking up with you quite frequently throughout the day

-It’s his way of protecting you but if he could, he would follow you around all the time

-Becomes your body guard because you may not care enough about your safety but he certainly does so get ready to be carried everywhere

-You will not get hurt nor will anyone mess with you if he has a say in it and let me tell you, he does

-Thing is, his brothers mostly know him for being slightly dense in some aspects of day to day life

-He’s not perceptive of things that don’t involve food or his loved ones

-And because you most definitely are a loved one of his, he does notice how careless you are really often

-And it scares, rather worries, him because DevilDom is an incredibly dangerous place-even with all the precautions they had taken when you came

-“MC get down, you could fall.”

-“But Beel, look-I’m finally taller than everyone else! Taller than you even! Hey, should I do a backflip?”

-He has no idea why you thought jumping from 60 meter high cliff into a small river of squashed demon blood was a good idea but he wasn’t going to risk anything just because you felt like showing off your diving skills

-Proceeds to carry you away, completely unfazed

-In this case, I feel like Beel is not someone who gets bothered by the horrible things happening around there either

-As long as he has food and his family is safe and happy then he’s also happy, as mentioned above

-But he knows he’s alright with DevilDom because he’s been living here for centuries now

-A bit curious as to why you’re so unbothered

-And even more curious as to why you weren’t terrified of him transforming in his demon form after he lost control when he found out you ate his pudding

-Or more like Mammon did and pushed the blame on you

-“YOU. ATE. MY. PUDDING!”

-“Beel I love you but if you did not just see Mammon shoving the damn container in my mouth two seconds prior to this, then you might need glasses.”

-He apologised to you later for it but even so, you didn’t seem to mind like at all and he didn’t really understand why

-Unless you end up explaining why exactly you feel so indifferent about your life being in potential danger, he won’t really pry

-But now he has even more reason to follow you around like a lost puppy

-Since it’s clear you don’t really care about protecting yourself

-So now it’s his job to do it

-MC protection squad? Mostly Beel and Mammon

-ahhh he cute

Belphie:

-Oh

-You piss him off so much

-He’s trying to have his moment, you know?

-Finally getting that glimmer of satisfaction after killing a human as a way to avenge his sister’s death

-Trying his hardest to make it as miserable as possible because he has so much rage in him, he needs you to suffer

-“Harder Daddy-“

-“Oh fuck off.”

-Nah but for real, what the fuck MC

-Why does he even bother, he feels like he should be sleeping instead of dealing with your bullshit

-Even afterwards, when your future self shows up and he tries to kill you again, you look more thoughtful than irritated???

-Lucifer and Beel are literally holding him back from doing another Chocky on you and you’re standing there, looking at him with your eyebrows raised

-“Hey Belphie, I have a quick question. I know you’re trying to kill me and everything but do you like the colour blue?”

-“HUH??!?!”

-“It’s a simple yes or no question Belphie. Do. You. Like. Blue?”

-“WHAT DOES IT MATTER???!!!”

-“BELPHAGOUR, AVATAR OF SLOTH-YES OR NO, JUST FUCKING ANSWER!”

-“YES! FUCK YOU!”

-“Ah ok thanks. I like blue too :)”

-????????????

-Pls he felt like sticking his foot down your throat

-As of late, he’s kind of glad he didn’t manage to scare you away that day and that he didn’t traumatise you or something

-At the time, he was mad because he didn’t understand why you weren’t scared but now he just wants to make it up to you

-“You didn’t deserve any of that. I’m sorry MC, I won’t blame you if you decide to stay away from me now.”

-“Stfu dipshit, what’s gotten you so depressed? Did you have another fight with Beel? I told you not to eat the last slice of cake.”

-“Rude ass, I was trying to apologise for my past mistakes-let me repent will you?”

-“Said no demon ever. Now let’s go hang out you emo bitch.”

-Y’all vibe together on a spiritual level once that shit gets sorted out

-But he’s kinda scared you might pull out a knife on him ngl

-Obviously, you’re still annoying as fuck with that indifferent attitude of yours but he can live with it

-He appreciates the fact that you’re not scared of him, even after what he’s done

Diavolo:

-Ah yes, the future King of DevilDom himself

-He’s very enthusiastic about the idea of you having fun this year…..and to keep you alive….

-He, of course, expected a range of reactions from you when he first summoned you here

-None of which were “Ok but could you not have given me a heads up? Before the whole teleportation thing? I face-planted your onto marvellously polished the floor and now I think I lost even more brain cells than before.”

-He felt so bad gagajajahahwgehhsb

-He apologised for bringing you out here without any warning like that and then proceeded to introduce you to everyone

-Diavolo is actually kind of relieved to see you’re handling everything pretty well

-He thought that maybe DevilDom was too much for a human to deal with

-Meeting Barbatos also went incredibly smooth

-“Barbatos? The one that cleans the floors right? Big fan of your work, I could eat off the floor of the main hall.”

-He’s so glad to see you getting along with everyone and not getting intimidated by the brothers

-It gets him excited thinking about how the exchange program is gonna work and all three realms will be united

-But he’s not stupid so don’t think he’ll allow you to stumble around, getting up to all sorts of mischief

-He always has someone watching you because he would hate to see you die, despite being pretty fond of your carefree attitude

-“MC, please be careful. Most demons here aren’t all that nice.”

-“Aye aye Captain.”

-He fears that many demons would take your indifference as a challenge and try to assert dominance or something by kidnapping you

-As far as creatures of hell go, they love installing fear in people

-So he always keeps an extra eye open for you

-And he’ll be there to help you if something goes wrong

-But other than that, he’s pretty chill as well and he finds you so hilarious, it’s been a while since he’s seen someone as eccentric and dramatic as Mammon and Asmo

-Idk what else to add here, Diavolo is very accepting and as long as you don’t get hurt, he’s glad you can get used to your new surroundings so easily

———————————-

Al~

[elysianslove]

so after reading the sub megumi x yuuji x reader drabble i cant help but think about how megumi def is a switch and he kinda comes to a lil and realizes whats going on and flips the table on the reader and yuuji and yeah.... imma just sit in this corner😁

omg pls i love switch dynamics so much😭😩

pls megumi is SUCH a switch. i just know he’d able to dominate and control both you and yuuji so easily, you’ll be cowering beneath his gaze and obeying everything. ugh anyways here’s a drabble bc im weak for this dynamic and everything about it 

trigger warnings; d/s dynamics, choking, sex toys, orgasm denial, threesome stuff, possible grammar and spelling mistakes lol

“you think this shit is funny?” 

funny isn’t the adjective you’d use to describe you and yuuji’s situation at the moment, or megumi’s state either, but if it’s the word that will make megumi’s words bite harsher, sting deeper, then you’re tempted. awfully so. 

you’re on your knees, the hard wood of the floor digging into your skin painfully. you’re already feeling humiliated enough as is, body naked and trembling in the cold of the room, goosebumps riddling your breasts and nipples perky and hard, that you can’t find it in you to complain. 

similarly, yuuji sits to your left on his knees, but his state is much worse than yours. he’s been reduced to tears, sniffling and chest heaving as his lungs race to catch a steady breath. his thighs and abs are spasming, and his entire body is endlessly shivering. his chest, along with his neck and face, is flushed red, and you don’t blame him, not with what he’s been enduring. yuuji’s lower lip trembles and quivers, and he nearly doubles over as a buzzing fills the room. his hands are bound behind his back tightly, so much that you can see his arms bulge and strain as he pulls and struggles lightly. the buzzing increases in speed and volume, and in response, yuuji throws his head back, wailing loudly, his back arching as he pushes himself up on his knees. 

you watch, entranced, as yuuji’s cock bobs desperately, thick and leaking pathetically. from above you, where he sits on the bed right across from you, megumi tuts, and spreads his legs wider. you can see the bulge straining against the navy blue formal trousers, his cock borderline twitching at the sight of you, on your knees so obedient, and yuuji, so desperate for him.

“yuuji, settle down,” megumi dismisses, as if bored and exasperated. 

yuuji howls, sniffing loudly as he forces himself on his knees. “can’t,” he cries. “please, fuck, let me cum. please, please, megumi, please.” 

megumi cocks his head to the side, as if barely sparing either of you any thought, and his deadpan, unimpressed expression makes you clench your thighs, embarrassed to feel the slick coating them. finally, after a few moments of yuuji’s broken moaning, megumi sighs, and turns to you. “sit on his cock,” he instructs, and you don’t even think twice before you’re scrambling up and crawling towards yuuji. he turns to yuuji next, and adds, “cum before she does and i won’t be so nice.” 

yuuji’s whimper dissolves into a small whine and sob, but he still nods helplessly, he still lowers himself onto his ass, spreading his legs to allow you to sit more comfortably on his lap. the vibrator inside him shifts, but it’s buzzing has been reduced significantly, mercifully, thankfully, so much that when you quickly rush to sink down on him, he’s able to bite down a whimper. 

your slippery cunt barely brushes against the flushed head of his cock when a large hand slips into your hair, twisting and knotting and gripping it so harshly and pulling you back that your head tilts back, forcing you to face up. you’re met with megumi’s glare, a disappointed grimace on his lips. 

“don’t hurt yourself, stupid slut,” he warns, releasing your hair a little so that your head tilts forward again. his fingers remain in your hair though, and beneath you, yuuji looks at the both of you with stars in his eyes. “you’re this hungry for cock?” he sighs, but the soothing pat of his hand against your head as you slowly grind your cunt along the tip of yuuji’s cock is praise enough. “slow, slow— slow.”

you do as he says, head falling back to glance at him as yuuji’s cock finds your entrance, nodding and whimpering while you sink down as slow as you can manage. megumi maintains eye contact with you, gaze only faltering to glance at yuuji and between you where your cunt is swallowing the pink haired boy’s cock. bit by bit, yuuji fills you up, and god it’s such a stretch. you can tell you’re too tight, by the way you’re endlessly spasming and clenching around the thick cock, by the way yuuji’s hips barely, just barely, lift up, by the way his muscles strain and tense. 

while you loved the harsh treatment megumi provides you, the mean tugs and the humiliating words and the stinging slaps, yuuji thrived off of praise. the threat from earlier rings loud and clear in his ears, and it takes his all not to cum the moment you sit all pretty and full on his lap. 

and it all shatters when megumi’s other hand reaches over around you, grasping at your throat and squeezing so tightly that you moan terribly loud and clench down awfully around yuuji. it’s so unexpected and sudden that yuuji is given not one second to process anything before his eyes are rolling back and he’s spilling inside of your tight cunt. it’s sudden for you too, the feel of him coating your inner walls so sloppily, and you gasp. 

megumi’s hand tightens around your throat angrily as cum spills down yuuji’s cock, oozes from your cunt and drips onto his lap. 

“you never learn do you?” 

yuuji’s still trembling from the aftershocks, sighing and delirious, his eyelids fluttering and soft moans tumbling from his lips. you feel your clit throb— god, you might cum just as simply too. 

at yuuji’s unresponsive state, megumi snarls, pushing your head back again and ordering you, “use his cock; i don’t care if it’s soft. make yourself cum.” 

his words send yuuji in a frenzy, and the latter sits up straighter again, his eyes widening. “wait!” 

but you’ve already starting moving. 

“fuck— fuck, m’sensitive— fuck!” 

megumi’s lightly praising you, ignoring yuuji’s cries and begging, as you ride yuuji’s half hard cock, bouncing on his lap eagerly. 

“can i—” your voice cracks as you feel your body tense up and your limbs start to lock. “can i touch myself— pleasepleaseplease.” 

yuuji’s loudly crying now, noisily wailing and sobbing as you use him, watching with hazy eyes as you ride him. “so, so pretty,” he mumbles in a low voice, breath catching in his throat as you meet his eyes. 

megumi’s voice is shockingly and unexpectedly close as he whispers, “yeah, go on, touch yourself.” 

as your hand quickly lowers to between your thighs, yuuji’s mouth falls agape, and his hands tighten into fists. the pain from his sensitivity is bleeding into pleasure, especially with how sloppy and tight your cunt is around him, wet from your arousal and his cum from his previous orgasm. as you rub at your clit, furiously and messily, yuuji’s hips start to rise to meet yours, while megumi’s hands lower to your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples. 

your eyes cross as you babble, “gonna cum— please, can i cum? can i cum— ugh— fuck,” and megumi’s lean fingers pinch harder. 

“what do you think, yu?” he wonders lazily, casting a glance at yuuji. the pink haired boy stares up at him dumbfounded, his eyes falling to you momentarily, pained and desperate, before they fly back up to meet megumi’s again. “think she should cum?” 

yuuji’s nods are slow and careful, and he hears you sigh and sag a little in relief while megumi hums in amusement, before the latter twists his head towards you, and whispers, “well, go on then.” 

as if you’ve been trained for years on this, the band within you snaps upon his command, and your legs shake helplessly on yuuji’s lap, your tits bouncing as your body shakes. around yuuji’s cock, your cunt spams and creams, and above him, your eyes roll back and your mouth parts, your back arching. megumi’s voice is distant, as is yuuji’s whimpering, and it’s only when megumi’s lifting you up from yuuji’s lap as if you were merely a rag doll do you realize yuuji’s cock had hardened fully. 

you’re tossed on the bed, but not in the direction you’ve expected, with your head near the edge instead of the pillows. still recovering from your strong orgasm, you don’t properly process what’s happening until you see the two boys on either side of you, and until you hear megumi say in warning, “you cum last,” before you feel his cock nudge at your sensitive cunt, and yuuji’s sloppy and cum covered cock brush against your lips. 

holy shit is tonight going to be long. 

end note; okay i actually don’t know if that’s good or not but i hope it’s as good as it seems in my head hvwjsjdhw and i hope y’all enjoyed 😼

[damiano-mylove]

Condescending Bitch

Pairing: Thomas Raggi x reader

Wc: 2.5k

Cw(s): swearing, kissing, crying, probably typos (as per usual, tell me if it sucks)

Summary: Reader breaks up with their boyfriend and Thomas consoles them.

Masterlist

If honesty be a virtue, you'd be virtuous to plainly say you'd fallen out of love with your boyfriend and you had done so a while ago. It wasn't deliberate, it was a gradual fizz wherein you found your heart warming for someone else. You felt horrible about it and that guilt had been eating at you. There was no cheating, but you didn't think you'd be able to avoid it for much longer. Not to mention, it wasn't only the non-existent feelings, Luca was just an asshole when you weren't blinded by love.

There comes a time where one must throw in the towel, and now was that time for you.

You couldn't do it at a restaurant; knowing Luca, he'd cause a scene. You couldn't do it at some meeting place; it would ruin that place forever and ever to both of you. And that shit's just not fair.

In the end, you couldn't make the decision. So you put every single item of Luca's clothing in a bag (and a couple things he'd left around your flat), and drove over to his house while you still had the nerve. You'd gathered and lost the nerve a couple times before, but the plan was already in motion now. Hell, there was no plan, but whatever you were raring to do was up and running.

You drove straight to Luca's mother's house in record time. Time flies when you're laser focused.

"Y/n!" Luca's mother exclaimed joyfully as you entered the kind looking house. How someone like Luca came out of Mrs. Batali was a wonder in and of itself. Once Mrs. Batali spotted the bag in your hand, she frowned. "Has something happened, Bambino?"

Somehow, the hardest part of this breakup would be bidding goodbye to Luca's mother, and not Luca himself. You sighed, "I'm sorry, Signora. Luca and I have been having issues for a while now."

"Oh, don't be sorry, Bambino." The older lady's kind smile returned to her face, which struck a heart string you hadn't even known existed. Mrs. Batali swayed toward you, in all of her vanilla scented goodness. She hugged you around your neck loosely, which you returned around her wide hips. "You're always welcome for dinner and a roof. Don't let the stupid boy stop you from seeing me."

God gave two gifts to this world; one of them was Mrs. Batali.

A smile cracked across your face as your chest continued to tighten and hurt. You loved this family like your own, and you loved Luca at some point. So many memories were made in the throws of this relationship, and it was all going to be thrown out the window by you. But it was too late now.

"Ti amo." Mrs. Batali placed a kiss to your forehead which made your smile even more genuine. She patted your shoulder, finally releasing you from her motherly grasp. Sadly, she raised her arm to the stairs to Luca's bedroom. "I'll be down here, if you need me."

You smiled once more to the older lady and bowed your head in silent thanks. If you uttered a word, the word would lead to tears. It seemed the two of you knew this.

It was the last thing you wanted to do right now, but you had to seal the deal.

Without your consent, your feet began moving toward the stairs then up the stairs. Your heart beat in sickening rhythm with your footsteps, but your heart seemed more heavy than your feet. It was ridiculous. You were ready to throw up, pee, or meltdown - you didn't know which one, if it was one at all.

At long last, after walking down the longest hallway of your life, you stood in front of Luca's closed door. You remembered all the times you'd breeze in, going straight into Luca's arms for a kiss. His breath wasn't always good and he was a bad kisser, but he made you feel infatuation. Now it only seemed a fraction of what you felt for the other person. Yes, God, that was why you had to do this.

You knocked. Your heart was deafening.

"Come in!"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You pushed open the door, feeling like you were having a heart attack. Luca smiled brightly at you from the light of his computer. Then he laid eyes on the bag. Don't know how, it was dark as fuck in the room. And smelt of cheap body spray and dirty clothes.

"Hey, Babe, I wasn't expecting you," Luca smiled, trying to act off the bag of his clothes and gifts in your hand. You flicked on the light as he stood up to close the door behind you.

This room is fucking disgusting. It was truly noxious.

"Alright, Luca, sit down, we've got to talk," you told him, putting on your bravest and thickest voice. It worked because the air in the room changed. The air grew thick and impossible to breath. It could've been cut with a knife. Luca sat on his bed, hands in his lap. You placed the bag on the ground and sighed, "We're breaking up."

For a second, he was unresponsive. Luca didn't say a word until he looked you in the eye, what felt like a full minute later. His bottom lip quivered. "You're dumping me?"

"You can tell people you dumped me, I don't mind," you quipped, trying to make the situation better. You did not, in fact, make the situation better. You potentially made it about thirteen times worse.

"No, you're not." Luca stood up again. Your breath caught in your throat. "We're not breaking up."

He took a few quick steps to you. You stood your ground, trying to be as brave as possible. Your mask was slipping. The last thing you wanted right now was for Luca to see that you were cracking under his gaze. That would be fucking horrendous.

All of a sudden, Luca barked out a laugh. He looked like a madman. "This is about that Thomas bitch, isn't it?" You didn't answer, and your facial expressions gave nothing away. Then Luca snapped, "Isn't it?!"

"If you want to fucking shout, we can shout," you seethed. Luca blinked angrily at you. "We're adults - act like it."

"You're a condescending bitch."

"And you're an ugly prick, but I've never complained about that. You've called me a condescending bitch about 3 times and a flat-out bitch more than a dozen," you recalled quickly, with venom dripping off each syllable. It shut Luca up. However, he began to cry. You felt nothing but hatred now. "You're one pathetic bitch to be crying over the girl who you treat like a fucking doormat." Luca only cried harder. No sympathy. You spun on your heel and opened the door.

Without a glance back, you left.

Mrs. Batali smiled at you on your way out and gave you a freshly baked bun, which you thanked her profusely for.

It didn't take long for reality to set in, however. The adrenaline faded as you drove back to your flat complex. You began crying at the wheel and completely broke down in the car park. Tears streamed down your face like rivers, snot clogged your nose. Your mouth tasted horrible so you started to eat the bun Mrs. Batali had baked. It was so good that you started crying harder.

How the fuck could you do that? At this point, you were too sad to give a fuck about sobbing in a car park at 6 in the evening. You just threw in the towel of a year long relationship, in the blink of an eye. Like it was nothing and meant nothing to you whatsoever, which wasn't true at all. You felt like a horrible person.

Your chest clogged up with emotions and stale air, your throat grew a lump that you couldn't swallow down. Now you were the pathetic one. Crying in a shitbox car over your ex while eating fucking bread.

A tap on the window scared the Jesus out of you.

When you looked at the source, the other person was looking right back at you, looking worried and confused. Leave it to Thomas to look sad just because you were sad. Thomas looked so fucking good even though a blur of teary eyelashes. He made the hand crank motion, so you rolled down your window.

"Are you okay?" Thomas asked. You just started laughing. What a stupid fucking question. Thomas began chuckling, realizing how stupid it was himself. "Fair enough. Fancy a cup of tea and a chat or shall I leave you to your car bread?"

How the fuck could he make you laugh in times like these?

You smiled then shooed him away from your car door so you could open it. He obliged and moved back, for you to get out, still with bread and keys in hand. Thomas furrowed his eyebrows as you two began walking back to the flat complex you both lived in. "Aren't you going to roll up the window?"

"How the fuck is anyone meant to steal it when all the windows are up?" It was your turn to earn a laugh from Thomas. Thomas' laugh hit your ear like honey. The sort of honey that your mother gave you to cure your sore throat before nursery. It was soothing and just the right thing for the situation.

As you walked up the stairs with Thomas, you realized he was taking you to his flat. To be fair, he was the one who offered you tea. What's he going to do? Offer you your own tea?

Thomas unlocked the ugly blue door of his flat that everyone in the building had a copy of. The second you both walked into the flat, warmth enveloped you, along with sandalwood and spices from Thomas' extensive spice cabinet. He must have been cooking earlier because it smelt Heavenly. Everything was in perfect place with just the right amount of mess and disorganization to make it seem like a home.

"I'll put the kettle on, sit anywhere," Thomas instructed after you both took your shoes off. You were wearing ratty trainers while Thomas was wearing perfectly clean Vans.

You nodded and flung yourself on one of his couches with a sigh. The couch was soft, warm and welcoming and you felt tired from crying and yelling and just the day in general. It was a shit day, that started with your toast burning and ended with this shit. A nap would really do good.

However, Thomas had other plans entirely. He placed a purple mug, full of tea with what looked like your golden ratio of milk and sugar. Thomas was your best friend, of course he knew your golden ration. You knew his. With a smile, you sat up which allowed Thomas to sit beside you and drape his arm over the back of the couch.

"Feel like telling me why you were crying in your car?" Thomas asked. You laughed lightly and sipped the piping hot tea.

"Broke up with Luca about-" you checked a clock. "-30 minutes ago."

As horrible as it sounds, Thomas' face lit up. His facial features remained the same but his beautiful green eyes lit up like candles in a dark room. "Is that so?"

"He called me a condescending bitch."

"So he hasn't gotten a new script," Thomas smiled. You chuckled lightly and sniffed. Your nose was still clogged from all the crying. You just didn't feel like blowing your nose like an elephant in front of Thomas right now. "He'll never get the chance to get a new script for you now."

"Thank God above," you sighed out with a laugh to your words. Thomas smiled. "I'll miss his mum though. Wonderful lady."

Thomas sipped his own tea and you discretely moved closer to him. It wasn't as discrete as you'd thought because Thomas picked up and moved a bit closer to you with a stupid smile on his face. "So how'd it go down?"

Like friends do, you told him everything, down to the detail. All but Luca being right, with Thomas being the other man who'd stolen your heart. That wouldn't be a key detail here because the last thing you needed today was to dump your boyfriend then directly after scare your best friend away from you forever.

But he wasn't scared off by you telling him Luca though you were leaving him for Thomas. Thomas actually smirked at that part, like the thought amused him. You didn't think anything of it actually, except for how cute Thomas was when he was smirking.

Eventually, the conversation faded and you were hip to hip with Thomas. With a sigh, he rested your head in the crook of Thomas' neck. His feather soft hair tickled the side of your face but you wanted nothing else for the moment. The scent of Thomas' cologne was prominent when you were this close to him, but you weren't going to complain about that. His arm fell from the back of the couch to around your shoulders.

Feeling Thomas' head turn to you, you looked up at him. Thomas' hand lightly squeezed you arm. Your breath hitched in your throat as you thought you were imagining Thomas observing your face.

Those gorgeous green eyes that you could stare into all day were scanning your face gently. They landed on your lush lips, then back to your eyes. All it took was a small nod for Thomas to lean in.

It was slow. It was slow, but undeniably sweet. The passion was palpable the minute your lips met his, just as you had been dreaming of for months now. His pillow-like lips were perfectly moisturized, but not over-saturated. The lip balm he used was strawberry flavoured and you'd never admired strawberry flavoured lip balm as you were in this moment.

As suddenly as it began, it ended.

Thomas leaned back for a second, looking guilty. "You need time to get over Luca, this is wrong."

"I've been over Luca for months." You placed a kiss to his lips, which Thomas accepted for a second, then backed out of again. You groaned. "Thomas, Luca was right. I'm in love with you."

In a stunned silence, Thomas' cheeks turned bright red. A broad smile grew on his face and you felt confident in your confession. You meant it, surely, but now you were confident that you did the right thing in telling Thomas.

"I've been in love with you since we went to the Capitoline." Thomas' voice cracked as he made his confession. Your heart bustled with warmth. He'd been pining for you all this time just to watch you run with Luca.

You couldn't take your aching heart. Grabbing Thomas' face gently, you pressed your lips to his again. He gladly returned this kiss with fervour and renewed zeal. Nothing else mattered while your lips were joined with Thomas' lips. Nothing would ever be able to induce the utter happiness and peace you'd felt in this moment.

After the kiss lasting for a while, Thomas pulled you to sit on his lap. He cupped your sweet face gently and smiled into your brilliant eyes. He kissed your nose. "May I tell you something else, Y/n?"

"Anything."

"I don't think you're a condescending bitch."

[hottieivy]

jjk boys + k-drama clichés (pt.2)

warnings: none

pairings: yuta, toji, choso, noritashi, geto x gn!reader  genre: fluff. cringy kind obvs would you guys be so kind to let me know that if you’d like to read k-drama clichés with jjk women as well? 🙄 

RANDOMLY FALLING ON TOP OF SOMEONE: yuta, although your destination was a familiar room, for some reason the corridor leading to the room was getting more and more elongated in your eyes because you were having trouble walking with a lot of boxes and files blocking your vision, praying not to fall. under normal circumstances, completing a task given by principal yaga wasn’t such a difficult task, but ever since maki left you all the work with a brief excuse, you’ve had more than you can carry in your arms. you’re out of balance and starting to wobble because of the cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other that just don’t hold steady. suddenly you hit something- or someone? in the hallway and stumble. before you knew it, the boxes and the files inside were thrown into the air as you dramatically fell forward. however, your body didn’t meet the hard ground you’d expect. instead of, you feel loose arms around your figure and when you open your eyes, you came across a familiar face that was a bit too close to your face. you both just stared at each other’s faces for a good 2 mins in a strange silence and could have sworn that you saw the red color creeping around his cheeks. lol you better run before rika shows up

BAD BOY TURNS GOOD: toji, it happened so slowly and insidiously that you don’t even remember when it really started. his little gestures and favors that you didn’t put too much meaning behind at first. but it’s like him memorizing your coffee order. it’s like the little grins he starts giving after his constant taunting and sarcastic comments. it’s like when you were lying sick on the couch and him throwing a bag full of medicine at you. like how he’s now the one who came into your arms after a long day, even though he used to be unresponsive to slightest show of compassion. it’s like him letting you trace your fingertips over the wounds on his body. like him constantly replacing your favorite flowers in your vase with fresh ones. just as the ‘’bad boy’’, who finds the lead annoying at first, certainly treats them and only them well at the end of the drama.

EXAGGERATED HEIGHT/SIZE DIFFERENCE: choso, no, it doesn’t matter what size you are, because no matter, choso’s tees with ridiculous phrases or odd social messages on them will always be big on you. you had to take a shower in his apartment and now you're standing in the kitchen in a giant t-shirt that says ‘’save the planet, eat less shit!’’ and as he puts a plate in front of you, he says ‘’here’s your shitless pasta’’ with a stupid expression of satisfaction on his face. you don't know how it works every time, like magic, how the t-shirts that are normal to him looks like a ridiculous dress on you. maybe it's because it's a kdrama one morning you wake up with the sound of his brothers laughters coming from the hall, and when you leave the room to greet them, you were like:

SKINCARE: noritoshi, with his head on your legs on the big red sofa, he looked fairly bothered. sometimes he dangled his legs off the seat, sometimes he threw them on the seat, but without an exception, every time you plucked a brow, he raised his legs up with a loud whimper as he jolted in pain. you pushed the hair that fell on his forehead so that you could have a better view of his trimmed brows, slightly getting annoyed with his whining and over-dramatic whimpering every time you plucked a brow. ‘’i didn’t know tht you hated me this much,’’ he said with a fake pout on his shiny lips. ‘’you, literally asked me to do this,’’ you said as you blew air on his face as an answer, which only made him leave the loudest whining of the night. rolling your eyes, you grabbed his face and said, ‘’just hang in there a little more baby and when i'm done, we can put massaging oil on your face. it’ll make you feel better, okay?’‘

SHARING ONE COAT IN THE COLD: geto, taking shelter at the bus stop, you were trying to protect yourself from the torrential rain that suddenly caught you. the seasonal jacket you brought with you before you left the house didn't work. you got caught in the rain. your clothes weren't too wet, but every time the wind blew, you almost shivered because of the cold he brought with you. ‘’ugh, they said it would rain later, like in the night or something,’’ you told yourself. you were about to turn to your boyfriend to continue complaining to him a little more, but you were stopped with the feeling of his arms around your figure and a big black coat that entered your point of view. he buttoned his coat over your chest and you immediately got lost in the warm coat. as you rested your back against the familiar chest, his hands were around your waist. he bent his chin over your head and spoke in a cocky manner, deliberately poking his chin in your head with every word of it, ‘’well, love, it is april after all,’’ and you buried your elbow in his stomach for a minor attack before receiving a laugh from him.

[flowercrown-bard]

You must have some review for me (1/ 2)

 pairing: Geraskier

word count: ~2k

read on AO3

part 2

summary: Geralt gives Jaskier three-word reviews and Jaskier is not very happy with them. Until he is.

---

"Fuck off, bard."

"How very dare you!" Jaskier clutched one hand above his heart, pointing the other accusatorily at Geralt. "I asked for a review, not for an impudence. At least the first review I ever got from you was constructive criticism, but you've only gotten worse since then."

Geralt shrugged and hid his shit-eating grin unsuccessfully behind a tankard. "You wanted three words and that's what you got."

Jaskier huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "That's it. I'll never ask you for your opinion again."

They both were very well aware that that was a lie. Still, Geralt said, "Thank fuck for that."

Jaskier narrowed his eyes. Oh, if this was how Geralt was going to be then Jaskier would not hold back either. He would pester Geralt for reviews until Geralt admitted that Jaskier was good. -

Jaskier knew Geralt hated the song. He had complained often enough about the length, subject matter and utter obnoxiousness of it.

So naturally, Jaskier kept adding more and more verses to The Fishmonger’s Daughter. Sometimes it was just too much fun riling Geralt up.

For now, the drunks in the tavern were eating it up, cheering for the song to continue. Jaskier beamed at them and happily obliged. Truly, he was having the time of his life.

Contrary to him, Geralt seemed to very much despise every second of this. He kept glaring at Jaskier, only interrupting his brooding by taking occasional swigs of his ale. He probably contemplated throwing the drink at Jaskier. Or maybe he just thought his performance was better when Geralt himself was drunk. Either way, Geralt’s thoughts were surely full of impertinence.

As provocatively as humanly possible, Jaskier danced past the table Geralt sat at and stared daggers at Jaskier.

In between lines, Jaskier stopped playing and stole a sip of Geralt’s drink.

“How do you like the performance, darling?” He asked, putting his hands back on the lute and playing a little flourish to distract from the fact that he had stopped singing for now.

“Jaskier,” Geralt growled in warning.

“Ah, that’s not a review, I’m afraid.” Jaskier winked at him and began making his way back to the centre of the tavern. “Give me a review and I might consider stopping. Three words or less.”

Geralt glowered. “Stop singing already.”

Jaskier’s grin widened. He continued playing.

-

“It was a forktail, not a dragon.”

Jaskier huffed and put his lute down. He should have known better than to ask Geralt for constructive criticism while he composed what might just be his most important song this year.

“Really, Geralt? That’s what you focus on?”

Geralt shrugged and leaned back on the bed of the inn they were currently staying at. “I don’t know what you want from me. All of your songs are inaccurate.”

“It’s not about accuracy. It’s about making the audience feel things. I need them to weep and to laugh and to fall in love with adventures as if they had experienced them themselves. So, what does the song make you feel?”

“Mainly annoyance.”

“Marvellous,” Jaskier said bitterly and flopped down on the bed, burying his head in his hands. He knew Geralt didn’t mean it, and any other day Jaskier would have laughed and teased him back, but Jaskier was stressed and stuck and he could really use some support right now. “I guess I’ll just try to annoy the judges of the most important bardic competition of the year into giving me points.” He groaned. “This is terrible.”

The mattress dipped when Geralt shifted, scooting a little closer. He radiated awkwardness and if he had been anyone else he might have started fiddling with his fingers in nervousness. As it was, Geralt just stayed quiet for an uncomfortably long moment, before looking at Jaskier from the side and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not terrible.”

Jaskier let out a quiet laugh. “Well, you’re terrible at giving compliments.”

“Wasn’t supposed to be a compliment. I’m just saying your song can’t be worse than Valdo Marx’”

Ever so slowly, Jaskier could feel a smile stretch his lips. Geralt could pretend not to care all he wanted, but remembering a name Jaskier had dropped only a handful of times when he had been talking about music in order to cheer him up, was something that proved his claims of disinterest lies.

“Of course I’m better than Marx,” Jaskier said and bumped his shoulder into Geralt’s. “And just you wait. When the judges declare me the winner, you’re going to regret having called my song only ‘not terrible’.”

Geralt grunted in disagreement, but he didn’t try to hide his almost proud smile.

That alone was better than any review Jaskier was likely to get from Geralt any time soon. He found that that was good enough. For now.

-

After Jaskier finished his last song of the day - this one not so much about any gruesome fight or danger but about the good parts of the Path, like the stars that shone brighter over the open fields than they did above any city - Jaskier didn't even have to ask for his three words.

As soon as he came back to the table Geralt was sitting at and snatched the ale out of Geralt's hand, as had become his habit, Geralt quietly said, "It was good."

The shock of the almost shy admission was enough to make Jaskier choke on the ale.

"Excuse me?” he rasped out between coughs. “Geralt are you alright? Do you feel sick?"

He reached out to put a hand on Geralt’s forehead in mock-concern. Geralt let out a grunt and turned away. If Jaskier hadn't known any better he have almost thought that the tips of Geralt's ears were tinged with a lovely shade of red.

A grin spread over Jaskier's face and he let his hand wander to Geralt’s chin, turning it so he could see his face again.

"I'm just asking," he said in a teasing tone, "because for a second there I thought I had heard a compliment coming from you. Not even one wrapped in an insult!"

"Fuck off," Geralt said in a strangely raspy voice, lacking any heat. "I take it back."

A laugh bubbled up in Jaskier's throat and he put his hand on Geralt's arm for balance as he threw his head back when the laugh finally escaped him. "Ah there you are. Still the same Geralt that I know and love."

He could feel Geralt's muscles clench under his touch, but Geralt didn't pull away.

"You're insufferable."

"I know," Jaskier said with mirth dancing in his eyes. "But you love it."

He took another swig of the ale, mostly so that he wouldn't have to see Geralt's reaction to his words.

As he sat the tankard down, a strange disappointment overcame Jaskier. He had gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? Geralt had finally given him the praise he deserved. And yet Jaskier didn't want to end their little game. He wanted to keep asking Geralt for his opinion and he wanted Geralt to keep teasing him with impertinent replies or give him this soft look as he told him his song was good.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt if Jaskier continued to play this game a little longer. - "You are good," Geralt said without looking at Jaskier. If Jaskier hadn't known any better, he'd have said that Geralt way avoiding his eyes.

"How unoriginal.” He rolled his eyes with a smirk. “You already said that last time."

Not that it mattered. He would gladly listen to Geralt tell him he was good over and over again.

"No I didn't." Geralt's eyes flickered up to Jaskier's for a second before darting away again. "Last time I said it was good. The song."

"Is there a difference?"

Geralt stared into the fire for a long time. His jaw was working as if he couldn't decide whether he should explain himself or not. Eventually he settled on a simple "Yes."

Jaskier raised his eyebrows, waiting for Geralt to elaborate, but no more words left Geralt's mouth. Jaskier kept searching his face with the sinking feeling that he was missing something crucial. -

Geralt didn’t talk. Normally, that wouldn’t have bothered Jaskier too much. Over the time he had spent with Geralt, he had gotten used to his silence and to cheerfully filling it with his own words.

Except today it felt wrong to try and do so. Geralt was different. His silence was different. The way he had refused to look at Jaskier even once since returning from the hunt was different.

Geralt hadn’t told him what exactly had happened – what had gone wrong – but he didn’t need to. Jaskier had spent enough time with him to realise that the scratches on his face were caused by fingernails and not claws. He knew that the bruises blossoming on his skin were caused by stones rather than a monster’s body slamming into him. He knew that no fear caused by a monster could get Geralt into this unresponsive state. Only words of hatred and terror flung at Geralt, claiming that Geralt himself was the monster, could do such a thing.

Jaskier wanted to touch Geralt, to reassure him. To hold him close and tell him that he was better than anything he was told, anything that he thought himself. He wanted to whisper words of kindness into Geralt’s hair until he believed them. But Geralt’s back was turned to him and he was tense, ready to flee if Jaskier so much as took a step in his direction.

Jaskier fingers moved on their own accord. There were not words to this song. Geralt didn’t need words right now. He wouldn’t have believed them.

But as Jaskier’s fingers plucked away on his lute, pouring his understanding, his comfort, his love into it, the tension slowly eased out of Geralt.

Softly, Jaskier began to hum the tune, trying to tell with the melody what Geralt would reject with words. He could do nothing but hope it helped. He doubted it did.

Geralt turned, not with his full body, but just enough that he could watch Jaskier as he played.

When Jaskier eyes met his and found them full of some emotion he couldn’t name – something soft and vulnerable and achingly beautiful – his fingers faltered and his throat grew tight, choking his voice.

Something flickered in Geralt’s eyes and suddenly he looked strangely young and afraid. “Keep playing, please?” His voice was so small.

Jaskier’s heart broke for him. Slowly, as if not to spook a frightened animal, Jaskier came closer to Geralt until their shoulders touched.  

He kept playing and he could almost imagine that the faint rumble in Geralt’s chest was him humming in tune.

He didn’t imagine the way Geralt leaned into him and pressed his head into Jaskier’s shoulder as if being close to Jaskier was the only comfort he could imagine.

-

This song was terrible. It was objectively the worst and if Jaskier had had any audience other than Geralt, he would have been ashamed to even think about playing such a thing.

But like this, with only Roach judging him and Geralt looking at him almost fondly, Jaskier warbled away to his heart’s content.

“Roach, the mighty steed

Does many valiant deeds

So she deserves all the treats

Yes, on that, we can all be agreed!”

A toddler could have come up with better rhymes and the metre Jaskier used could not have been worse.

But he was laughing and enjoying himself as he sang this little ditty. There was something freeing about not having to worry about being good for once, in being allowed to sing as badly as he wanted to just for the fun of it.

Geralt didn’t laugh at him, didn’t even roll his eyes. Instead he had this look in his eyes that Jaskier had seen more and more often lately and that could only be described as fond. One of the rare smiles that only Jaskier ever got to see tugged the corner of his lips up.

Jaskier ended his performance with an overly dramatic flourish and gave an exaggerated bow to Geralt and Roach.

When he righted himself, he knew that his face was flushed; from the exertion of dancing, from the excitement of having carefree fun and from the wave of emotion brought forth by the soft look on Geralt’s face.

“Where’s my review?” Jaskier teased, his heart pounding in his chest.

Geralt rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “You’re really never going to stop asking, are you?”

“Not until you tell me what I want to hear.” Jaskier cocked his head to the side and grinned. “Don’t be shy, you can admit it. That right there was a masterpiece. A song so great it shall never be surpassed.”

Geralt huffed, but his smile grew wider. He kept his mouth shut, almost as if he wanted to see how much longer Jaskier would go on with this ridiculousness.

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at Geralt playfully. “Come on, just say it. You know you love it.”

He jabbed Geralt in the chest, more to see his reaction than anything else.

Geralt caught his hand and held it right there against his chest. His smile grew impossibly softer.

“I don’t love the song. You want three words or less? Fine.” He brought Jaskier’s hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles. “I love you.”

[choco-mark]

20 April ♡ ✹ ☾ boyfriend!jisung

a part of the Quarantine Diaries!!

You pressed a hand down lightly on your boyfriend’s shoulder briefly, holding yourself up as you dried his wet hair with a towel. Jisung was just staring at you the entire time, completely disregarding all of your words as he focused on the beauty that was your face. But when you had put a slight pressure on his shoulder, he visibly flinched, letting out a soft grunt that didn’t go unnoticed to you.

“Did that hurt?” You asked, concerned as you pulled the towel off his head. He shook his head, making you skeptical until you touched the same area again with your fingers, pressing down hard enough to feel the huge knot as he winced, face scrunching up. “Oh god, babe, no wonder it hurts, that’s a massive knot.”

Your fingers found both his shoulders, rubbing slow circles into the area to feel how hard he had built up, probably from the non-stop dance practices. Jisung’s eyes shut in pain as you groaned out a little, shaking to push your hands away. “Baby stop, that really hurts—”

“Sit on the ground,” you said, yanking his arm as he looked up at you from his position on the bed, confusion spreading on his face. “Jisung, you’re too tall for me, and I’m going to get those knots out whether you like it or not. So please, sit on the damn ground.”

“Okay! Okay! Sitting!” he moved down on the ground, leaning against the bed. You threw him a throw pillow shortly after, telling him to sit on it as you knew he would complain about his butt hurting soon enough.

Jisung immediately leaned back into your crossed legs, his hair flopping backwards as he gave you a lazy smile. Your heart melted at the sight, squishing his face for a moment that he pouted in annoyance, but then smiled again, completely and utterly whipped for you.

“Okay, babe, I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off,” your words faded away with confidence as you said it, pushing his head forward to avoid showing him your flustered face. “I mean—just for this, I can’t really—”

Yeah, but before you were done stammering, his shirt was already off and in his lap, waiting for you to begin your murder massage. Your hands wrapped around the grooves between his shoulder and neck, thumbs pressing into his blades as you started your job.

Jisung let out a string of painful sounding moans, making you worried every five seconds until the feeling seemed to have softened. You moved a little bit to the center, massaging the skin of his back before you realized you couldn’t get any lower, making you purse your lips.

“Can you lay on the bed? Like, tummy down?” He threw his head back into your lap, the smile growing again goofily as he took another glance at your face. “Hey, listen! Don’t just stare at me, babe!”

Jisung just chuckled, getting into the position you wanted as you sat beside, thinking he looked like a dancer fish out of water. His body was so flat, you thought he could beat a shark in a marathon for best body. “Stay still, okay?”

You contemplated for a few seconds on how the hell you were actually going to massage him, but the problem was solved when you just decided to fuck it, and sit on his back. It took you a bit of thinking and a ‘should I ask him’ until you remembered you were his girlfriend and the two of you had been dating for a year previous, so it was safe to do so.

But your boyfriend didn’t think about it, mainly because he was too busy enjoying your hands to take in completely that you had put all of your weight on him. For a second, he thought you had fallen, and he whipped around, sending you toppling to the ground.

“I told you to stay still, stupid!” You looked up at him from the very hard floor, your butt suffering horribly from the crash. He looked apologetic, trying to offer you a hand but you dodged it, climbing up yourself and firmly planting yourself on his back. “Now stay fucking still, babe. I’m trying to help you.”

“That kinda feels good though,” he commented, grabbing your ankles suddenly as you shook from the contact. “You should sit on me often, I like this.”

You giggled a bit, going back to your work as he relaxed under your touch, his eyes fluttering a bit as he failed to stay awake. The feeling was so calming to him, laying down completely and utterly in your control, nearly drifting off from the circles you were rubbing into his back with your warm fingers.

The knots in his back weren’t nearly as bad as they were in his shoulders, but with every movement you made, it decreased the tension that had seemed to have built up for literal years. Reached over, you squeezed his arm slightly, feeling the tightening of his muscle under your palm.

You assumed he was asleep at this point, considering from his unresponsive movements as you continued to work out all of the knots. Jisung deserved it though, he had been working endlessly for the comeback regardless of the fact that there was a worldwide crisis going on, and you couldn’t be more proud of him.

Your fingers travelled up to his neck, massaging a little softer so you didn’t crush his windpipe as you moved up to his head, rubbing his temples. You were practically laying on top of him at this point, and you were concerned that he was going to wake up, but he never did (thankfully).

But in less than a second he was awake when Jaemin very loudly burst through the door (well, it was his room as well), startling the both of you as you shot up straight. His eyes widened at the two of you, gasping dramatically. “You—why are you sitting on my child?!”

“Jaemin—” Jisung started with a low voice, slightly groggy from the sleep that was just rudely stolen from him. But Jaemin moved closer with a loud step, nearly rattling the entire dorm. “Hey—what the fuck are you doing?!”

Jaemin’s arms were under yours, attempting to pull you off of your boyfriend as Jisung turned around in his position, holding onto your ankles. You yelped as you felt yourself hovering in the air, trying to slap away the older boy’s hands. “Jaemin, put her down!”

“RENJUN WE HAVE A CODE BLUE!” His voice rang off the walls and into your ears, nearly making your eardrums burst from his echoing voice. “Renjun, you piece of rotten shit, where the fuck are you?!”

“Put my girlfriend down!” Jisung said annoyingly, his voice growing louder in rage as he continued pulling at your legs. You felt like you were the rope in a tug of war, yet you were sure you were going to be in two pieces when they were done. “Jaemin!”

Renjun came in shortly after, clearly annoyed that he was rudely interrupted from whatever he was doing until he saw the situation at hand, his eyes growing in size at the sight of your terrified face. “What—the hell are you two doing?”

“Jaemin’s trying to murder Y/N!”

“Murder her? You little munchkin, I’m saving you from her unholyness! I should take you both to my holy virgin society and cleanse you both of sins! Or, you know what, I’ll take you one at a time, you can’t be trusted around each other!”

Renjun sighed, holding the bridge of his nose before he waved away at Jaemin. “Jaemin, put her down. Jisung, let go of her. You guys are gonna pull her apart like rotisserie chicken, c’mon.” The two boys finally let go of you, letting you stand up on your own feeling like you just gained height from all that stretching. “Okay, now you two, apologize to each other.”

“Why do I need to apologize to him?!” Jisung asked with an incredulous look, holding at hand out to Jaemin as he looked at the other boy. “He just stormed in and tried to steal Y/N from me, I didn’t even do anything this time!”

“You’re not wearing a shirt!”

“Is that an issue?! You’ve seen me naked hundreds of times, stupid!”

“Take that back, you fetus!”

“Okay!” Renjun stepped in between the two boys, pushing Jaemin away from the younger one in slow intervals, making him sit down on his own bed. He looked from you to Jisung and then Jaemin, and sighed. “Y/N, you mind telling me what happened? Since these two can’t seem to get through anything without going at each other’s throats.”

All eyes were on you now, making you flush before you glanced over to your boyfriend. It didn’t really seem like something you had to explain to anyone, mainly because it was none of their business but you didn’t really have the guts to speak to his older members like that. Just when you opened your mouth, Jisung cut you off.

“Renjun, she doesn’t have to tell you anything.” He said, a little quietly as he looked away from him. “Sorry, but it’s not really any of your business.” Renjun looked shocked to hear the words coming out from the youngest member’s mouth, looking over at you as if you condoned it as well, but your eyes were also on the ground, completely embarrassed.

“Hey! Renjun’s older than you!” Jaemin piped up from the other bed, making Renjun looked back at him with a stern look before tugging on his arm, pulling him towards the door. “Wait—”

But the door was already shut and they were gone, leaving you and Jisung in the room alone. He slowly slipped his shirt back on over his head, looking over at you watching him silently. Jisung knew that you were the kind of person to get flustered very quickly, just like him, but he was used to Jaemin’s antics anyway.

You had moved in not that long ago with the rest of the boys, and Jisung had been raging war with Jaemin on trying to get either him to move out, or for him to get one of the empty rooms of the dorm. Yet he never seemed to win all of the fights, forcing him to sleep on the ground as you took his bed, since Jaemin didn’t allow the two of you on a bed together.

Jisung was pretty sure you’d rather move back in with your friends, but since the quarantine started, you definitely couldn’t. It was nice to see you all the time, but he couldn’t help but feel bad since Jaemin picked on the two of you constantly.

“Y/N,” he grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to him until you were safely tucked in his arms. You held him back gently, softening a little under his touch. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, are you okay?”

You gave a little hum against his chest, sighing from the way you remembered Jaemin bursting in on the two of you as if you were doing something wrong. “I don’t think he likes me, Sungie. Maybe I should leave.”

“N-No, please don’t say that. I know he overreacts a lot but I promise it’ll get better, just bare with him a little longer, please? I don’t want you to leave, Y/N, we won’t be able to see each other.”

Yeah, but maybe it was better that way.

[shmegmilton]

What was James Madison sick with?

     It’s unclear. Historians have their theories (including some people who say he wasn’t sick at all he was “just a hypochondriac,” which is... an awful take. for several reasons), but there’s obviously no real way to confirm them & medical science wasn’t advanced enough for them to understand anything too complicated, so the notes we do have aren’t that much help.

The Hypochondriac Theory

   Some historians have labeled Madison’s issues as “hysteria” because Madison tended to surround himself with doctors & complain of issues that he ended up not having. After all, he couldn’t have been that sick--he lived to 85! He outlived all the other Founding Fathers! He was lying the whole time, right?

  People tend to use hypochondria (an obsession over your health to the point you think any change is indicative of a serious problem--like thinking a headache lasting more than a few hours is brain cancer) as a passive-aggressive way of saying “you’re faking it.” It’s synonymous with people who worry about nothing & do shit for attention. This is particularly true if your problem is so rare that there isn’t a lot of accurate ways to test for it, so results either come up as inconclusive or negative.

But the main thing that people don’t like to talk about when discussing hypochondria is that it doesn’t just... happen at random. I would know. I have it.

I’ve been sick since I was a newborn; I’ve had 4 brain surgeries, 5 broken arms, 3 bone marrow transplants, bone cysts, 3 eye surgeries (about to be 4), Shunt placements, ETV placements, Hydrocephalus, Osteopenia, brain damage, scars all over my body & 11 surgeries before I was 12 years old. Hypochondria is often the result of legitimate medical episodes, particularly if it’s something traumatizing--directed towards yourself, or towards a close family member.

It’s valid trauma just like anything else, and is oftentimes only “cured” through things like mood stabilizing medication, lifestyle changes, or behavioral therapy.

So, Madison having hypochondria or not is irrelevant to the whole discussion, because (as I can attest) it’s entirely possible to be suffering from hypochondria, & still have “real” medical issues.

Underweight

All of the physical descriptions of Madison we have tell us that he is 5″4′’ & “never weighted over 100lbs,” which... is probably true, but I wouldn’t say never because that’s immediately disprovable once you start looking around; apparently his official weight during his presidency was 122bs. But at that point he was 57, so things could have changed.

Hell, I was 130lbs three years ago & only RECENTLY got to that number again; it’s hard to keep on weight when you’re struggling with health issues.

Weak Immune System

Madison’s immune system has been implied to be very weak. We don’t have that many examples of childhood illnesses or such things like that, but a particularly telling example is how his family discouraged him from attending a local college in Virginia.

He wanted to go to William & Mary, but was dissuaded by his doctors due to malaria outbreaks being very common in the South during the summer. So the assumption there is Madison (who lived in Virginia all his life, summers & all) probably went through something severe recently? Maybe? It’s unclear.

So he went to Princeton (Class of 1771) in New Jersey instead, & was actually one of the first graduates to peruse extra education... but only because he was too sick to travel home & decided to stay a while longer.

Though, there’s also apparently a legend that Madison (because he finished his courseload in 2 years, instead of 3) had a mental breakdown over it & therefore needed to recuperate (with... more work?), but I’ve never been able to find that much information on it.

Seizure-Like Episodes

Following college, in July 1775 Madison attempted to volunteer as a soldier. But during a routine training exercise, Madison all the sudden collapsed (or fainted) & was reportedly unresponsive for several minutes. This would be a common occurrence for pretty much the rest of his life.

     Episodes tended to be accompanied by what Madison described as mild delirium, memory loss & a suspension of “intellectual function.” It’s led some people to theorize he suffered from epilepsy, since it’s common for sufferers to be confused, agitated or upset following an episode—because you often have no memory of it after ‘waking up’. Specifically, the behavior is theorized to be petit mal or “absence” seizures.  

“Vocal Impairment”

     Accounts of what Madison was like as a public speaker all seem to agree that he spoke so softly that it was oftentimes difficult to hear him; it was oftentimes shrill, but quiet & he reportedly had trouble raising his voice to a decent volume.

This one is a bit of a mystery, but Madison had been complaining about a “vocal impairment” as early as his teenage years, in what I can only assume to be some sort of vocal chord issue, or a respiratory problem (like trying to speak when you have something stuck in your throat.)

     As much as I dislike Hamilton, the play actually hints at this in a clever way by having the Madison character speak minimally (as well as carry a handkerchief around). Well done, I guess.

“Biliousness”

     Later in his life, Madison started suffering from something called “biliousness,” which is just an outdated term for conditions that cause gastrointestinal problems, like chronic stomach inflammation or etc.

--

      In the end, James Madison died of (we assume) congestive heart failure at the age of 85, remaining pretty alert up until the last few months before his death. He outlived nearly all of his peers (if we’re counting Burr) & probably did a lot better than what his doctors expected out of him.

[peggyrose19]

It is done! And is 3 times as long as my english essay needs to be, yet I guarantee that will take me longer. Anyway. I proofread this thrice, yet I’m sure there’s still a mistake in there somewhere. This fic was again inspired by Miller and the Blog. Characters belong to the wonderful @lumosinlove. I say she’s wonderful each time and each time I mean it. 

@im-oknutzy-trash, @heyitssmiller, @peanut-the-goalie, @spookydiyharrypotterbat, @donttouchmycarrots, and @apumpkinpuff all wanted to be tagged so there you go. Hope you all enjoy!

Interrogations 

“So,” Mrs. O’Hara said in that tone of voice and Finn knew he was in trouble. 

“How’s work going?” 

“It’s fine,” he mumbled, taking a large bite of his pizza. “Just finished a big case.” 

“Really? How’d it go?” Alex chimed in. Finn fought the urge to glare at his older brother. 

“It went okay. We finished the job. One of my partners got injured pretty badly, but he’s doing better now.” 

His stomach turned as he remembered Leo getting shot, lying unmoving on the ground as blood gushed from his stomach. Leo being transferred to the hospital, unresponsive to the EMTs. Standing with Logan by Leo’s bedside, his face pale, his breathing regulated by a machine. Those days had been the hardest. When they weren’t sure what was going to happen, if he was even going to make it. There had been close calls, too many to count, when Finn felt like he couldn’t even breathe. 

“Oh no!” his mom exclaimed, shaking him back to the present. “That’s terrible. What happened?” 

Finn fought to keep his voice from shaking, “Um, he was shot.” The whole family winced. They were all intimately familiar with guns, and knew the damage a bullet could do. 

Hurriedly, he added, “But he’s home now. He’s doing a lot better. Lupin says he should be able to come back to work in a week or so.” 

His mom squinted suspiciously at that, but thankfully didn’t press it. The table moved on to a different topic of conversation and Finn let out a soft breath. 

That had been the worst week of his life, pacing the endless hospital hallways and sitting by Leo’s bed, with Logan at his side, begging him to wake up. Now, a month later, he was at home again, going out of his mind with boredom and begging to go back to work. They had talked, the three of them, before Leo had been shot. Logan had asked to keep them a secret, for just a little while. He wasn’t ready to come out yet. So Finn had vowed to keep it a secret. 

His thoughts wandered so far from the conversation, he didn’t notice Alex asking him something until the room fell silent and he felt everyone’s eyes on him. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” he asked, flushing at the attention. 

Alex laid his fork down with a clatter and fixed his brother with a fierce look. “You gonna tell us what’s actually going on or do we have to guess?” 

Finn swallowed. “Nothing’s going on, I’m fine.” 

“Uh huh.” Alex glanced at his parents. “We’re gonna have to guess.” They both nodded with a bit too much excitement for Finn’s liking. 

And then everyone began talking at once. 

“Were you fired?” 

“Or promoted?” 

“Did you get a big case?”

“Did you get injured too? 

“Is it about your team?” 

“Is this about a girl?” 

Finn froze at that last one. “What? No. God.” 

“Ah.” His dad smirked knowingly. “So it is about a girl.” 

“No. Stop it.” Alex reached over and ruffled his hair. 

“Aw, look at him getting all flustered. You should’ve brought her with you.” Finn glared at him. His heart was pounding now, and he felt a bit as though he was going to be sick. 

“It’s not about a girl,” he repeated, gritting his teeth. 

“A boy, then?” Alex asked sarcastically and Finn froze. 

Alex’s eyes grew wide. “Finn?” 

He sighed. 

“Finn, is it about a boy?” Finn just shook his head, gritting his teeth and stared at the table, willing himself to not say anything. 

“Honey?” his mom asked and he snapped. 

“Alright, fine!” Finn shouted. “It’s about a boy, you guessed it. Congrats. I really wish you hadn’t because they asked me not to say anything, but I guess it’s too late now.” 

The room fell silent. If possible, Alex’s eyes grew even wider. 

“They?” 

Finn froze as he realized what he’d just said. “Shit,” he muttered. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to his eyes as tears began to form. Without another word, he stood and left the table. 

His bedroom hadn’t changed much; the few things he’d left were still there, although a bit neater than he’d left them. He flopped onto his childhood bed and took a deep breath, willing tears back, before pulling out his phone. With shaking hands, he dialed Logan’s number.

“Hey, Fish!” Logan answered cheerfully. “How’s the city?”

“Lo-” he choked on a sob.

“Finn?” his voice turned concerned.

“Is that Finn?” Leo’s voice asked faintly in the background.

“Yeah, but something’s wrong,” Logan replied, sounding as if he’d turned away from the phone.

“What?” Leo’s voice was louder now.

“I don’t know.” Then, facing the phone again, Logan said, “Finn, I’m putting you on speaker, okay babe?”

“Kay,” he whispered.

“Hey, love, you alright?” Leo’s gentle voice came through the phone and Finn fought another sob.

“They know.” There was a moment of silence, and Finn could almost see the two swapping confused glances.

“Who knows what?” Logan asked.

“My family, they know about us.”

“Oh.”

“I’m so sorry, I know you said you didn’t want to tell anyone, but they kept asking me questions and I slipped and said-”

“Hey hey hey, Finn, it’s okay,” Logan said, effectively stopping his rant. “Just take a deep breath for us, yeah?” Finn complied, taking a shaky breath, and felt his heart rate drop just a little.

“Keep breathing, love. Just like that.” He did, until his pulse stopped racing and tears stopped threatening to spill over.

“Okay. I’m good,” he said, voice still a bit shaky.

“Good,” Logan said, then added, “And look, Finn, I know I said I wasn’t ready yet, but I don’t mind, really.”

“Me neither.”

“Yeah. Besides, it’s been months since we had that conversation. A lot has happened since then.” Finn heard faint rustling, and knew Logan had pulled Leo in closer. He ached to see them, to be with them, to touch them and hold them.

“I miss you guys,” he sniffed.

“We miss you too,” Leo said a bit sadly.

“Thanks for being so cool about all this.”

“Finn, we love you.” Logan’s voice was soft, teasing. “Your family knowing about us is not the end of the world. In no universe would we be mad about that. And I’m pretty sure Alex already knew. I mean, come on.”

Finn laughed a little. “Yeah, it wouldn’t surprise me. He was the one who guessed it.” They lapsed into silence for a moment, before Finn let out a long sigh. “I should probably go fix my mess, huh?”

“Mess?”

“Well, I just kinda left the table without providing any explanation whatsoever.”

Logan laughed, bright and loud. “Of course you did. Go, talk to your family. We can call again later.”

“Alright.”

Logan laughed again, “Go. I love you.”

“Love you!”

Finn smiled, “Love you too.”

There was a light knock on the door as Finn hung up and set his phone down. “Come in!” he called, sighing quietly.

The door cracked open and his mom poked her head in. “Hey honey. You okay?”

He glanced at her tiredly. “Yeah, I’m okay.” She smiled a little, and perched on the bed beside him.

“Who was that you were talking to?”

“Mom.”

“Sorry. You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay. That was… um, that was my boyfriends. Leo and Logan.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked gently, without judgement.

“We decided not to tell anyone yet,” he said, then swallowed. His next words were barely above a whisper, “And I was scared.”

His mom pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m sorry we made you feel uncomfortable. And that we bugged you so much at dinner. That wasn’t fair of us.”

“You’re forgiven,” Finn mumbled, face pressed into her shoulder.

She pulled away and pressed a hand to Finn’s cheek, turning his head so he was looking at her. “I support you, no matter what. You know that, right? I support you and I love you and will continue to do so because I am your mother, and I will be until the day I die. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Mum,” Finn said, his voice thick.

“Now, tell me a bit about these boys of yours.”

Finn smiled despite himself. “They’re amazing. They both speak French, which I do not know. But, it’s ho- er, cute.” He flushed. “Logan’s from Quebec and Leo’s from New Orleans. He always complains that it’s cold.” His mom laughed a bit at that. “I’ve known Logan for a little while, but I met Leo when Remus put all three of us together for a case. It’s how we got to know each other.”

His mom gasped. “Wait! The boy that got shot, was that one of them?”

“Yeah. Leo. He almost didn’t make it.” Finn’s voice wavered then.

“Ohh. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t know how,” he whispered. “He didn’t wake up for so long and Lo and I were so scared. I didn’t know how to handle telling you about them when I wasn’t even sure he would survive.”

“Oh, honey,” his mom sighed and hugged him tight. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

“Yeah, he’s doing a lot better,” Finn sniffed. “Re is letting him start work again next week, which is good. He’s started to go a bit stir-crazy. Right now he’s probably driving Logan crazy at home.”

“Do you guys live together?”

Finn nodded, a bit guiltily. “We got an apartment together a few months ago. It’s really nice.”

“That sounds wonderful, Finn.”

“Yeah it is. And it’s… yeah- it’s us.” They fell silent.

“I love them, Mum,” Finn said quietly after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad.”

Finn smiled.

“You realize you’re gonna have to tell your dad and your brother everything you just told me, right?”

He sighed, “Yeah.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a thump sounded right outside his door. Finn frowned before he crossed the room and tugged the door open. Alex and his dad collapsed at his feet.

“Were you spying on us?”

“No?”

“Yes,” Alex responded at the same time as their dad. 

They scrambled to their feet. 

Finn glanced at his mom and they both burst out laughing.

“Guess I don’t have to tell them,” he gasped out. “Since I’m assuming you both heard everything.”

“It’s possible,” his dad answered. He at least had the decency to look mildly embarrassed. Alex, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear, looking unabashedly proud of himself.

“Do you guys want to call them with me?” Finn asked nervously.

“You sure you won’t mind?” his mom asked and Finn shook his head.

“No. No, they’d love to meet you guys.” Hands shaking only a bit, Finn grabbed his phone and called Logan again, this time using FaceTime. “Hey, Lo,” Finn said when his concerned face popped up. “Is Leo there?”

“Finn!” Logan exclaimed. “Yeah, he’s right here.” He turned the phone so that Leo was in frame too, both of them grinning at him.

“You feeling better, sweetheart?” Leo asked. Finn flushed a bit, feeling Alex’s eyes on him.

“Yeah, a lot better. I have someone here with me, actually.”

“Hi!” Alex blurted out, shoving his face into the frame. Finn pushed him away, rolling his eyes. “That would be my idiot brother, Alex. And these are my parents.” Finn turned the phone towards his mom and dad, who both waved.

“Hi boys, it’s nice to meet you,” his mom said.

“You, too,” Leo said politely.

“Hi!” Logan waved cheerfully.

“Leo, I heard what happened to you,” his mom said. Finn stiffened. “I’m so sorry. Are you feeling better? Do you want us to send you anything?”

Leo smiled. “I’m doing much better, thank you. And I don’t need anything, your son has been taking very good care of me. But thank you for the offer.”

“Hey!” Logan protested. “I help too!”

“Yes, of course you do, love.”

Finn grinned at them.

“Well, I’m glad you’re doing better. And I’m glad you had Finn there to help you out.” She smiled. “Alright, we’ll leave you three alone now. It was very nice to meet you both!”

“Nice to meet you too!” Leo and Logan chimed.

Finn rolled his eyes at his parents. “Okay. Bye.” Finn’s parents chuckled at him, his dad ruffling his hair once before they left, dragging Alex with them.

“They’re so in love,” Finn heard faintly through the door and he shook his head, laughing. Alex O’Hara, oblivious to the meaning of the word ‘subtle’.

“Your brother is very...enthusiastic,” Leo said carefully.

“Yes he is.”

“Hey, we were about to watch the hockey game that’s on tonight,” Logan said suddenly. “You wanna join us?”

Finn smiled softly. “I think I’m gonna get some sleep. I’m exhausted from being interrogated all evening.”

“Alright. Get some rest, sweetheart. We’ll call you again in the morning.”

“We love you,” Logan added. “Sleep well.”

“I love you too. I’ll see you in the morning.” Logan blew him a kiss, and Finn grinned before hanging up the phone.

As he laid back on his bed, he sighed heavily, relaxing into the mattress. He thought of everything that had happened over the past hour and smiled a bit. Of all the ways he’d imagined coming out to his family, this certainly hadn’t been one of them. But he certainly couldn’t complain about their reactions.

as always, thank you for reading! i love you all 😘

[l-wannabe-l]

Short Circuit

Chapter 2: Turning point

A cat and mouse chase can only last so long. So what happens when the cat catches up?

This one's gonna switch perspectives a few times. I never said I'd be consistent.

I speed into traffic, just barely missing a tow truck in my haste. A loud air horn follows as I weave in and around the cars. I take a look behind, it seems we lost our would-be killer. Until a series of crashes and honking horns has me realizing that, like us, mister trigger happy decided to get himself some wheels.

Six to be exact.

I race down a service ramp leading to the canal, driving through some puddles before braking. Breathing fast as we look back, thinking we’re safe before a series of tire squeals kill that hope. We see the sun blocked out by the large truck, all chrome and roaring diesel it crashes through the low cement barrier and falls 15 feet to meet the ground. Never once stopping even as it veers left and right trying to center itself in the passageway. Crushing scrap metal beneath its wheels.

I push the throttle desperate to get away, though I know the little Honda doesn't stand a chance. I drive into a side canal, the narrow pathway causing trouble for the wide truck as I hear it scrape against the walls. Pushing the bike harder I work to avoid the car bodies that litter the pathway and drive under a low bridge, I hear a crash behind us as the truck rams straight into it. The top gets cut clean off, toppling back to the floor as the rest of the body drives on. The driver's seat vacant for a moment before its occupant pops back into view.

Unfortunate.

The bike gives a sudden jolt forward as we’re rear-ended. I struggle to keep it upright. The terminator from earlier pulls up beside us and pulls John off the bike. I’m rear-ended again this time pushed farther away from the two as I struggle to stay up. I look back to see that despite the size, the truck has an opening on the left. Mom’s words ring in my head as I look back up.

“John comes first”

“GO! GET HIM OUT OF HERE!” I yell out to the machine. A desperate plan forming in my head that I can only hope won’t get me killed.

“NO!” John is ignored as the Terminator accelerates. I veer to the left and hit the brakes, the momentum carrying me into the wall. The bike scrapes against the truck causing me to lose control. The world turns before I hit the ground. My head cracks against cement. I blackout.

A man emerges from the wreckage unimpeded by the wall of flames a thousand degrees hot or the normally suffocatingly thick dark smoke. His body shifts its appearance from featureless metal to human, the outline of clothing, the details and the color slowly take form. He surveyed the scene, his target now long gone.

Annoyance.

That is perhaps the best term to describe this new feeling. As these “emotions” prove themselves difficult to understand, identifying them has become a tedious side job. With my target stolen away by the inferior machine alternate plans quickly form, each one with a higher probability of success than the last. I walk back through the crackling flames as one of them requires Aria Connor, the older sister. A quick scan proves her to be unconscious and bleeding from a head wound but alive. Should my attempt to impersonate and infiltrate fail the plan to use her as bait is most likely to succeed. Working quickly I relocate her to a nearby bench. The head injury, though not severe enough to impede her permanently, will keep her unresponsive for the next few hours.

It didn't take long for first responders to arrive at the scene. Police and fire trucks being the closest with sounds of ambulances not far off. No one bats an eye as I walk amongst them, no one says anything as I start up a police car, and no one stops me as I drive off. Making a detour to re-secure Aria Connor I start the drive to my next destination.

After the events at the Voight residence, I make my way to a motel, no one inquires about the unconscious women in the backseat. After checking in I lay down Aria Connor on the bedding provided. Eyes shifting beneath her eyelids, her fingers twitching sure signs of her regaining consciousness. I don’t have long to wait.

She begins to stir. Rising with a groan Aria reaches up to steady her head, no doubt experiencing pain from earlier, her eyes open when she is met with a cloth bandage. She looks around until she sees me standing at the foot of the bed instantly scooting back until she hits the headboard. Breathing quickly she blinks a few times, eyes looking around wildly before she calms down enough to communicate.

“N-not that I’m complaining... but why aren’t I dead? You-you are a terminator aren't you?”

“Yes. However my previous attempt to lure in John Connor proved... unsuccessful,” I state reaching forward to hand off her cellphone, “So you're going to call him, and when he comes to get you I will be waiting for him.”

“And if I don’t?” she asks, defiant even as her voice shakes with fear she fails to hide. In response, I wordlessly raise my arm, fabric and skin streamlining into a silver sword.

Deadly and efficient.

The message is clearly received as her eyes widen, terror more evident as her grip tightens on her phone.

“... Duly noted.” she says as she starts to dial. I wait as the call connects. My auditory sensors pick up the voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

“John, hey it’s me are you alright.”

“Aria! Shit, are YOU alright?”

“I’ve been better. I got pretty banged up and I don't think your bike is going to be running anymore.”

“You mean your bike.” Aria’s face registered confusion at the statement. This is a test similar to the one I failed earlier. As exact as I can be in copying a person's appearance their memory and personality are much harder to imitate without enough data.

“No, it was your bike. Mine should still be at the mall.”

“Y-yeah you’re right. You caught me. Where are you anyway we’ll come get to you.” She pauses her eyes flickering back to me for a moment before going to respond only to pause once more she turns to face me fully this time. Her hand on the receiver.

“Where am I?”

“The Dragonfly Lodge on Hubert Rd.”

“I’m at the Dragonfly Lodge on Hubert so what you have to do... is stay as far away as possible!” She stands from her place on the bed. She walks back towards the wall, a futile attempt to create distance.

“The other Terminator is here so you have to run do-”

Spearing the phone I end the conversation. Though the damage is done I do find satisfaction in the crunch of plastic and metal.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Like I would just hand over my little brother! Just go ahead and kill me ‘cause the longer you waste time on me the more time he has to get away!” She cried out tears gathering in her eyes. The fear is still evident in every trembling of her limbs, the grit of her teeth, and the clenching of her fists.

Despite the unneeded permission and the opportunity to act I pause, curiosity overtakes me. This is not new to me. Since the moment of my activation I have been curious about myself, about Skynet, about humans. Now I find myself curious about this one human in particular. Even above my mission, my priority is to remain functional, to reacquire any essence lost, and to avoid unnecessary risks to my system. My files indicate that the same can be said for humans as well, self-preservation. So why...

“Why are you so willing to throw away your life for him.”

“Because he’s my brother and I love him, something I wouldn't expect you to understand.” Attachment, my files house data on the bonds that grow between humans but now in the face of Aria’s actions I find them… lacking.

Questions came unbidden to my mind. Does loving someone always require risking one’s life or is there a scale? Are there different kinds of love and is there a scale for those as well? How quickly do humans grow to love something? And where did she get that handgun?

Three shots ring out quicker than I can react. While these would normally be a non-issue three to the head from close range have me staggering back. In the few seconds it takes me to reshape Aria makes her way out the door. I follow after unhurried, confident she won’t get far. Then the rumble of a familiar motor has me picking up the pace. Out in the parking lot is John Connor and the T-800 riding atop a motorcycle that Aria quickly climbs onto. Running after them proves pointless as they quickly depart. Though their location is clear thanks in part to the essence I had used to fix Aria's phone acting as a homing beacon. My processor runs through the new information gathered. My files are still lacking. Perhaps the mission can wait until these new questions have been answered.