#and then turn around and complain about youtube pushing longer videos???
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why are people so annoyed by longform youtube content now?? nobodys making you watch the 30 minute video on if the power lines in gta5 connect to anything. you can watch youtube shorts
#tongue#people complaining abt how tiktok reels and stories are actively shortening attention pans#and then turn around and complain about youtube pushing longer videos???#'theyre only doing it bc it makes more money' yea its almost like google is a for profit corporation or smth#and that ppl who make money on there make it from ads and theres more adspace in longer videos#use ublock origin#this isnt. entirely a dig at drew gooden but also suddenly everyones bitching about it in the most unproductive way ever#i didnt hate his video#people like longer videos for the same reason people binge watch shows#sometimes its nice to just have a long video play without worrying abt what to watch next#and suddenly now ppl are just??? annoyed that theres so many long videos ITS SO WEIRD#VIDEO ESSAYS ARE HUGE AND ITS HUMAN NATURE TO WANT TO LEARN
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gimme gimme!
pairings. haechan x (f) reader
genre. FLUFF! established relationship
warnings. implications to sex towards the end, haechan being so fucking >_< in this one (do y’all understand??)
note. again,, inspired by this tiktok SOMEONE HELP ME FROM MY IMAGINATION AND THOUGHTS BC THIS W HAECHAN ????
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haechan is home with you, but not really for a good reason. he’s exempt from his schedules due to health reasons so he’s instructed to stay home and get some well needed rest. but you’re glad that he’s with you and under your watch.
both of you are on your couch, your back against the arm rest and your legs thrown over haechan’s lap as he’s watching a youtube video on the tv. his arm is slung behind you resting on the couch as his other arm is resting on your thighs, occasionally giving your thigh a squeeze with his hand. you’re on your tablet reading a book you’ve been excited to read that a friend had recommended to you.
this is what your days have consisted of, just you two in your apartment. either glued on the couch snuggled together or talking about anything in your kitchen and laughing or in your bed getting lost in each others warmth. of course, you do leave the house in the morning for classes and come back before dinner, haechan awaiting upon your arrival at the entrance of your front door with open arms and his bright smile.
you tap your tablet’s screen to turn to the next page before looking up at your boyfriend who’s focused on the youtube video that’s playing on your tv. you poke his tummy which makes him twitch underneath you, he grabs your finger to stop you from poking him again.
“what?” he asks, staring down at you with curious eyes.
you pucker your lips expectantly, as your eyes stare at his lips and back to his gaze.
the side of his lips turn upwards slightly, releasing your finger to take a hold of your chin as he places his lips on yours. when he disconnects from your lips he makes a dramatic ‘mwah’ sound.
he smiles down at you, his hand that’s behind you holds the back of your head as he softly pushes it towards him to kiss your forehead. “cute,” he mumbles, before going back to watching the tv.
but you want more.
you poke his tummy again, with your lips puckered.
and he leans down pecking your lips twice, humming in content. he can never get enough of your lips.
instead of poking him again, you make a small pouty noise and poking with your lips.
“you’re being really fucking cute right now.” he tells you in a low voice. but he doesn’t dismiss you because he kisses you again except his lips linger on yours a bit longer. you drop your tablet onto your lap and both your hands grab the collar of his shirt as you pull closer to you. as if you both weren’t already glued together.
“i can’t help it that i love you so much.” you mumble against his lips, and you open your eyes slightly during the kiss and haechan’s eyes are closed and his long eyelashes are glazing his cheeks and his lips are longing for yours. his face drunk off of lust for you.
“say it again,” he smirks, yearning for your affectionate words that hold so much love in it his heart feels like it could explode.
you raise your eyebrows. “what, that i love you so much?”
his eyes are staring at your lips when you say the words, nodding his head.
“i love you so much, my love.” you tell him strongly, puckering your lips again.
and with a sly smile he wastes no time in closing the distance between you, once again, meeting your lips with his.
“this is usually the other way around.” he states, implying that it’s usually him being all lovey dovey with you and not the other way around. in no way is he complaining though. he’s enjoying every second of this.
you hum, “perhaps it’s the way you woke me up this morning with my favorite iced coffee from my favorite place.”
he fake pouts, “am i only an iced coffee supplier to you?” he’s wiping away fake tears with his finger.
you shake your head, giggling. “kidding, maybe. but i do really just love you and want to show you.” you answer truthfully.
“show me, eh?” wiggling his eyebrows. “let’s say we go for round two of what we did last night?” as he trails his hands up and down your thighs, the tip of his fingers grazing dangerously to where aches for him.
you take your chance and sit yourself up right, straddling his lap, your tablet falling off your lap and somewhere on the floor but you don’t care. “take me.” he wastes no time in securing you in his arms and lifting both of you off the couch, rushing towards your shared bedroom.
—
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just gonna ramble for a bit, if that’s okay. will be discussing pet loss and some grief processing so feel free to keep scrolling.
Sorry for the wall of text
it’s been a little over two weeks since you left us all behind with a gaping blank hole in our living room where you used to make your place. i miss you, and I can’t stand to go back home and look at that corner without seeing flecks of the soft bedding we got for you once your arthritis made the old type too uncomfortable, or the pen you always used to find ways to break out of when you were little. the metal made a super loud crash any time someone tripped over it, but I wish I could trip over it again million times again if it meant you were there waiting next to me. do you remember when I first saw you? the rest of the bunnies were playing around in the center of their enclosure, but you were too shy and cuddled next to the biggest one resting over by the side. I remember driving home in the car while my mom decided what to name you. I was four years old. Do you remember when my sister came? It’s strange to believe that as big as she’s gotten, you were here even before she was. She still feels bad for trying to pick you up by the leg when she was a toddler. I brought you to kindergarten with me—it was the best show and tell I could’ve hoped for, even when the cage we brought you in broke. But you didn’t leave, you just waited there until we brought you back home. And at that time you were small enough to stick your head out of the top of that log like a little ferret. You would break out of the pen all the time, ripping open the two Velcro straps that kept the pen closed so that you could wander around the couch and surprise us when we watched TV. Then, when we fixed the Velcro because we thought it might be a safety hazard when we weren’t around, you’d push your igloo around and use it as a step stool to climb onto the top of the cage, and then jump down to explore. My mom says that one time when we were at school, you ventured all the way into the kitchen to see her when she was on the phone. The stairs were always too big for you to climb, but we carried you up to hang out in our rooms anyway. I watched YouTube videos with you when you weren’t well enough to walk anymore. I wish that that last day I held you I could’ve held on for longer.
You were fourteen and a half; I barely have a memory from before the time you were in my life. I’m not sure how much rabbits think, but I know from the way you welcomed out care, from how you did your happy bunny dance around the ottoman, from how you were the rock of my brother’s life in his worst of times, that you demonstrated love in the best way you could. I like to think that you were a schemer; we’d been calling you a grumpy old man for years before now because you’ve exceeded all expectations with how long you were around. Every vet you went to see said you were the oldest bunny they’d seen, and you were doing so well despite your illness. I miss your silly hairstyle and your mustache and the few small spots that line down your butt. I miss you sitting on my stomach when I lay on the floor. I miss the way I filled your water bottle on school nights, even when I complained about how it was a chore, and I want to go back and find the little turtle charm that marked the water level. I should’ve fed you more treats, but I’m glad my sister gave you a whole banana like I suggested on your last morning. I hope you got your fill. I know you don’t miss me giving you eye drops and liquid medications, because I know you didn’t like it, but I miss it, sitting across from you before I went upstairs to bed. I liked to lower the lights when I turned them off so you weren’t suddenly in darkness, and my brother sang you songs in the mornings and evenings. Mom always made sure you ‘gave’ us special treats for holidays and birthdays. She cried over the phone the last time I called. Even though to my dad you started as a substitute for a cat (he is allergic) or a dog (he has a phobia), he loved you for being you and always made sure you had the best. We have been restless without you. Rabbits are wonderful but silent creatures (except for when you sneezed) and I think for that reason they are often overlooked in the realm of domestic pets because not many people take the time to view their personality. You were bursting with it. I want it back. I hope that in the time between your passing and mine you wait for me but enjoy yourself in wait; I hope you meet the old friend you loved and make new ones; I hope I stop being so afraid of my memory because the more times someone remembers things, the more the mind changes them. And I don’t want to change anything I remember about you, but I don’t want to forget either. I love you a million times over, and I will miss you forever, buddy
#personal#tw loss#tw grief#<- in case it’s needed—it’s rough; I understand filtering things can sometimes help#bunnies
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It’s Only Fair
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: Swearing, Minor Spoilers for RE8: Village
Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: It’s all fun and games while Corpse is simping over Lady Dimitrescu, seeing as how Y/N herself isn’t immune to that woman’s charms. However, things get ‘serious’ when Corpse has to deal with his girlfriend making heart eyes at the hammer wielding final lord - Heisenberg.
Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for this incredible request - it hit close to home, not gonna lie hehe. Thank you so much for the opportunity you gave me with this request, I had a ton of fun turning it into a fic and I hope you have at least half as much fun reading it! Love, Vy ❤
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t Heisenberg remind you of Lucas from the seventh game? I don’t know, all this speakers communication is giving me flashbacks I’m not too fond of. That guy traumatized me.“ Y/N shudders in her seat from where she’s observing Corpse’s gameplay while keeping tabs on the speeding chat, answering as many of the comments as she can.
“No idea. Never played the game.“ Corpse wheezes out, feeling the pressure’s on and working up a little bit of a sweat seeing as how this is the last lord he’ll have to battle before probably having to square up with Mother Miranda. The fact he’s running low on ammo has been stressing him out but luckily he has Y/N there to comfort him every time. She doesn’t even need to use words to do so or even ask him what’s wrong - just placing her hand on his knee allows him to feel relaxed and as though everything will be alright even though it probably won’t be if he doesn’t collect some money, ammo or supplies for making ammo soon.
“Wooow, fake fan, huh?“ Y/N pokes his side teasingly, “No, nevermind, I know exactly why you chose to play this, skipping all the previous ones in the process.“ She prods on, continuing to mess with Corpse who gives her a side-smile after having held on a still face for such a long time, features frozen in his focused and on-edge state.
He rolls his eyes, deciding to play her game, “Oh yeah? Why do you think that is?”
She scoffs, “Maybe cause thee other games don’t have 9ft tall vampire ladies? I don’t know, I’m just shooting in the dark here.” She delivers another poke to his side, giggling devilishly as she does so.
Corpse quickly takes hold of her hand, murmuring: “Maybe...” under his breath before bringing it to his lips and giving her knuckles a kiss.
Y/N wiggles her hand free from his grasp, mock-offended by his words, “Knew it! I freaking- Whoa, hello there, sir.” She cuts herself off as the game enters into a scripted cutscene, showing off the final lord in all his glory. “Who is you?”
“Y/N, Heisenberg. Heisenberg, Y/N.” Corpse laughs, “I forgot you missed the episode where he was first introduced.”
“Damn do I regret that now.“ She whispers, eyes glued to the game instead of the screen of her laptop where she’s been fetching comments flying by. No one can blame the girl, she’s got a justified reason to be distracted. “Wish we met sooner, Mr. Heisenberg.“
Corpse finds his jaw on the floor in an instant as his head snaps to face his girlfriend, “Excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?!”
Y/N frowns, narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend as she finally brings herself to tear her eyes off the screen where now the game has been paused. “What? You now get to complain? After I didn’t say shit about you drooling all over Lady Dimitrescu? It’s only fair I get my own simp-worthy subject, don’t you think?”
Corpse rolls his eyes, “This deal doesn’t seem like it’ll benefit you much - I get a hot, classy and rich vampire lady and you get...” he motions at the screen, his face twisting in a displeased expression, “...him.”
“Oh trust me, I’ll be perfectly benefited, don’t ya worry.“ She shoots him a wink, cackling quietly yet evilly at the shock-disappointment het comment is met with on her boyfriend’s part. “What?“ She asks though laughter, “He’s hella hot!“
“Ok, that’s it.“ Corpse gets up, pushing the desk chair Y/N’s sitting in forward, rolling it on its wheels towards the door, “You’ll be in exile until this chapter’s done with. I can’t have you simping all over the place, it’s bad for business. I mean, if you fall for guys who look like him, God knows what people will think I look like.“
“Well, you do need a shower but...“ Y/N comments through a fit of giggles, kicking her legs as to get up and off the chair but by the time she’s able to react, he’s already rolled her out in the hallway and shut the door of the recording room behind himself as though she can’t just open it and walk back in. Which is exactly what she does, much to his dismay - but she only pokes her head inside, “You’re right, it’s bad for your image, so I’ll clarify.“ She clears her throat, raising her voice as for it to be picked up by Corpse’s mic from across the room, “The two men in question don’t look at all alike, folks! Heisenberg is way hotter than Corpse!“
“OUT!“ Corpse shouts, sounding as threatening as he can while laughing his ass off alongside Y/N who has followed his ‘order‘ and stepped out in the hallway where her laughter can still be heard. “Guess the longer I don’t shower, the hotter I’ll appear to Y/N. Remind me to buy myself a cape as well. Wonder how much factories cost around the West Coast...“
“COPYCAT!“ Comes Y/N’s shout from outside the door, causing Corpse to break out in another fit of laughter.
Never did Corpse think he’d be trying to cop the ranks of a video game villain but here he is, actually googling the price of cape coats and he’s never felt more bemused with himself - ok, that may or may not be a lie considering he’s really digging the coats he finds for sale online.
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It’s Just Blood
▸ Jeno x reader ▸ 2k words ▸ Fluff, Smut ▸ Period sex, protected sex, mentions of period blood, Jeno putting a tampon inside you, if you think that’s disgusting then click away, accidental overstimulation. ALWAYS USE PROTECTION WTF
Jeno: Hey, you there?
You: Yes. On my way back to our apartment, need anything?
You don’t know why but when you received Jeno’s message, you were kind of excited for nothing. After that one time sex that happened last month, you can’t stop thinking about him and lowkey wishes that that one-time thing will happen again. Who in their right mind won’t wish about having sex with the Lee Jeno again? You just got really lucky because he’s your roommate and he was really horny at that time.
Jeno: I’m really stressed today :( and I need an adult stress release.
It must be your lucky day. You smiled while walking and fidgeting with your phone, hoping not to bump on someone as you type and delete over and over again, thinking of a good response for Jeno. Of course, you want it, but it’s your time of the month and you don’t want Jeno to be disgusted with your blood on his cock. That’s the last thing you want.
You: … I’m on my period. But, if you’re fine with that then I’m fine to have sex tonight.
It was a leap of faith, sending that message. You ready yourself to be rejected and the smile that’s on your face a few seconds ago was replaced by a frown. Being on your period can really really really make you horny and Lee Jeno just asked you to have sex with him. On your way to your apartment, you made a stopover at the nearby convenience store to buy your favorite comfort food and some drinks.
Jeno: Better. So I didn’t knock you up, the last time we had sex huh? Kidding. I’m still in class and will be home by 7 pm. If that’s fine with you? Buy us condoms on your way home?
The level of excitement while reading Jeno’s message made your whole body warm and excited. Reading the word ‘better’ sure did send tingles in your spine. Does it mean he’s into period sex? Because if yes, that’s very hot. You can’t contain your excitement and can’t stop smiling while you chose a condom and forgot to buy your food and drinks.
You: The condoms are covered ;)
Jeno: You’re the best! I’ll see you later ;)
As soon as you closed the door to your apartment, you covered your mouth and muffled your screams, and went straight to the bathroom to take a hot shower. You make sure you smell good and clean when Jeno arrives, wearing the nicest panties you have, and pray that your period won't flow too much when you and Jeno get on with it.
It’s not that you’re planning to sleep on the couch on purpose and let Jeno find you like that, but you were really tired today and the episode that you’ve been watching on Netflix was unbelievably boring. You decided to close your eyes for a minute and take a quick nap and just let Jeno wake you up when he arrives.
After your nap on the couch, Jeno is still not home and he hasn’t sent any messages. Did he forget? It’s Friday today, and usually, he’s out with his friends to celebrate the weekend. Maybe a couple of beers and good company has already removed his stress. You went to your room to continue your nap and think hard if you’re going to message Jeno. No, that’s your final decision. You closed your eyes again and feel the fluffiness of your pillow, tossed and turn from time to time because the thought of Jeno forgetting about you, bothers your mind. Then you heard keys jingling from the outside and your apartment door opens, it must be Jeno. You lay down in your bed comfortably and pretend that you didn’t hear anything and as expected, he knocked on your door and opened it to check if you’re still awake. “Sorry. My last class took longer than expected” he groans and flopped on your bed, the stress is evident on his face. He cuddled your waist like a child which made you smile, his hot breath brushing your skin. You reached for him and played with his black fluffy hair, it made him giggle and look up to you, sat up and came near you. Now, he’s cuddling you with his arm wrapped around you and his head is resting on your chest.
“You’re heavy,” you said, not complaining but rather loving the moment. It was a quiet moment and only the sound of your air conditioning surrounds the room. Until you feel Jeno’s big hands playing on your side, caressing your soft skin, and slowly removing your shirt. Then you felt his lips on top of your chest, kissing you softly with loud sounds all the way up to your neck, chin, and lips. His soft lips are so addicting that you never want him to stop kissing you, “I have to take care of something first, before we continue” you said, feeling shy because you’re talking about your tampon. But Jeno is still kissing your body, tugging your bra, and kneading your clothed boobs. He sighed, “Sorry, yes of course” he kissed you one last time on the lips before he could let you go.
Quickly, you went to your bathroom, removed your tampon, and cleaned yourself. When you got back, Jeno is shirtless and only wearing his boxers briefs, lying comfortably on your bed. You crawled back to him and sat on top of him, putting your legs on both of his sides and removed your bra in front of his eyes. He did not waste any second and pulled you closer to him so he could kiss you again. His hands roam around your body, tugging your panties as he pleases and easily switched positions with you. He removed his underwear with one swift move and sucked your nipples as he removes yours. Without hesitation, he inserts a finger and looked at your reaction. The way you part your lips when his finger went inside made him want you more, so he inserts another finger, not caring if it’s coated with period blood and your pussy juices. He thinks it’s hot.
“Condom?” he asked and bit your nipple. Wow, he is really horny.
“Tableside- Jeno? If it disgusts you, I want you to stop okay?”
“What are you talking about” you watch him put on a condom and you must admit, you became excited seeing his cock again after so long. He kissed you again and again and again until you calm down and understand that your period blood does not freak him out. “Put your arms around me” he requests then kneeled in between your opened legs. Just before he goes in, blood started to flow again and it’s making you shy at how Jeno watches your pussy with lustful eyes. He ran a finger up your slit making you grab onto him tightly and moan quietly, “There's our lube” he smirked and lined his cock. You close your eyes and furrow your brows as you feel Jeno’s thick cock go inside you. “Wow, that was smooth” he pulled out leaving just the tip inside and thrust in again a little harder this time that made you boobs bounce. You smiled because you loved the feeling of him being rough on the first thrust, “want it rough?” he asked, “Say yes, I want it rough too” he went closer to your face and gave you a few piercing thrust while he waits for your answer. You tried answering him but all you can do is groan and gasp for air, so you gave him a nod. He holds on tightly to your legs and pushed them further, making you more sensitive and horny. You hear sounds of skin slapping, Jeno’s deep groans near your ear, and your own moans.
“Why would you think I’d be disgusted with your period blood” it was not a question, but you answer him in your head. Of course, you don’t want him to remember you all bloody in bed.
He put his thumb on your clit, making you really sensitive. You tried pushing him away, not because you don’t like it but it felt good that you’re nearing your high and you’re feeling tingles on your clit. Too much. You wanted to tell him but you love what he’s doing. When he felt you clench, he slowed down and gave you deep thrusts. He whispers sweet nothings and dirty things that send tingles on your spine and goes straight to your pussy. “Have you been thinking of me? And the first time we had sex?” he asked.
“Yes” you moan out feeling overstimulated already but Jeno was unaware of it. All he thinks about is that you’ve been thinking about him and it makes him happy, and that you feel so good around him and how he can thrust inside you smoothly. He continues to draw circles on your clit, rolls his hips oh so slowly, kissed you, and gave you a few thrust until he finally came really hard that he hugged you so tight and kept his cock deep inside you.
“Jen- Im really overstimulated right now. I feel like peeing- please your thumb and co-“ you pant, trying to ease the overstimulation by pushing him away and closing your legs.
“Oh sorry” He quickly removed his thumb from your clit and cock inside you, to remove the condom. You hear him catch his breath beside you as you two stare at the ceiling and breath deeply together. “Sorry” he turned to you when he finally came down from his high. His skin is hot, and his warmth is addicting just like his lips. “Can I clean you up?” he knew he needed permission to clean you up because he can feel that you’re being shy around him, but you kept quiet and smiled weakly. “I’ll take that as a yes”
The moment Jeno went to the bathroom, you looked at the mess on your thighs and your bedsheets. Bloodstains everywhere, your legs, inner thighs, and lower abdomen have period blood. “fuck” you murmur, feeling shy again but you can’t move your legs and your clit is still sensitive. When you closed your eyes, you accidentally drifted and went to sleep again. Leaving Jeno happily cleaning you up and taking care of you. He cleaned himself, cleaned every bloodstain he sees on your skin, changed you with some comfortable and clean clothes, and even watched a video tutorial on youtube, ‘how to put in a tampon’. It was a challenge for him, but he didn’t see it as a burden it was the right thing to do after all.
On the next day, you woke up on Jeno’s bed. Finding the handsome man on the floor. You felt clean and comfortable down there which you leave you too having an idea that Jeno put in a tampon for you. You felt shy again and roll out of bed to lay beside Jeno on the floor. The moment you’re comfortable beside him, he swings his arms around you and smiled with his eyes still closed.
“Sleep well?” he asked, you hummed in response and hugged tightly.
“Thank you for cleaning me up. How did you-“
“Youtube”
“Oh sorry. I really feel bad right now for making you do things like that”
“Sssh. You’re ruining the moment and besides, I have no regrets. I learned something new” he giggled and kissed your forehead. You noticed that his actions are becoming bold and something that’s not normal between friends just fucking around. You have so many questions, so many why’s, but you don’t want this sweet moment to turn into something so awkward.
And then,
“Can I ask you out? You’re not seeing anyone at the moment, right? Because if yes, I would have to steal you from whoever it is you’re seeing” there’s the answer to all your questions. “I’m sorry if the sex happened first. It’s just… our first time made me uhm… fall for you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that night. And then, I started feeling things towards you whenever you greet me and talk to me you know-“
“You talk too much Lee Jeno” you attacked him with hungry kisses. Telling him that his confession made you happy through wet and breathtaking kissing.
And that morning, you and Jeno had sex on the floor and made a mess again.
↩︎ prev next ▶︎
Period sex is the best for me. Idk abt u.
#nct-writers#kpopscape#saintscape#kdiner#nct smut#lee jeno smut#jeno smut#nct jeno x reader#jeno x reader#nct dream smut#nct scenarios#nct drabbles#nct imagines
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~what bothers the signs~
<3 use your dominant sign, sun, moon, rising, mercury, mars, or venus <3
aries
trump supporters. ants in their bedroom. people who cling onto the past and don’t give them the chance to change. when guys comb their hair too neatly and end up looking awkwardly posh. teenage boys in general. their mom. “because i said so”. fake-humble people (fishing for compliments). when people harshly insult themselves in hopes that someone will say “aww no you’re not!” possessive friends who get mad when they spend time with anyone else.
taurus
when the shower water turns cold because they’ve been in there too long. being told to hurry up. teachers who try too hard to be friends with their students. when astrology posts act like their only personality trait is eating a lot. carelessly flirty people. when people romanticize recklessness. “idk, just because”. when their friends cancel plans at the last minute. flaky people in general. people who change their mind every day. unreliable people who act in unpredictable ways (taureans need to be able to fully trust you). shitty service at a restaurant
gemini
“ok then”. math. passive-aggressive people who remind them of their past mistakes, and force them to re-state their apologies. being left on read. feeling a mix of guilt and indignation when someone isn’t treating them right. being so self-aware that it turns into frantic defensiveness. strict routine. dry texters. “umm i don’t know how to respond to that.” feeling controlled by an outside force or person. relentless creepy men who repeatedly dm them after being told to stop 3 times. slow walkers.
cancer
attention whores. “get over it”. “life isn’t fair.” “tough shit.” people who don’t remember the pain they caused them in the past; who expect them to just move on. people who leave in the middle of a texting conversation. loud, spitty chewing. awkward butt-touching. when people question their motives and intentions (this will make a cancer extremely stressed). when their friends are too busy to make time to listen to them vent. when people try to act “alpha” and make a big deal about themselves. people who are able to switch off their emotions and freeze them out
leo
when someone tells the same story over and over again. pimples. when people don’t point out how particularly hot they look that day. that sickly cold feeling on a cloudy early morning. one-uppers. people who raise their hand in class to read from the textbook and then speak at the speed of a snail. people who act weirded-out when they compliment them. fake baby-voice. when people step on their white shoes. “you have so much potential, if only you’d apply yourself”. repetitive throat clearing. “you’re so annoying”
virgo
feeling like an afterthought. people who don’t practice proper oral hygiene. when people talk too close to their face (if you want a virgo to hate you in .02 seconds, just start whispering directly into their face without having brushed your teeth that morning). when they can’t tell if their crush’s personality is just flirty, or if they’re interested in them back. being sweaty. girls who wear too much perfume. sleeping in the same room as someone who constantly shuffles the blanket around with their legs. “it was a joke, chill”
libra
people who think it’s cute to constantly point out “well this is awkward”. self-proclaimed “brutally honest” people who put on their dating profile that they’re “fluent in sarcasm” (basically unresolved feelings of aggression showcased as a “bad bitch” persona). people who don’t wear deodorant. super loud people who need to make every situation about them. when a person never initiates a conversation, so they have to always do it. the inner conflict of not wanting to put up with people’s toxicity any longer but also not wanting to piss people off by saying anything. online shopping sites that load too slowly
scorpio
straight tiktok. fake people who smile to your face and then shit on you behind your back. people who try to be funny by doing things like tapping them on the shoulder and pretending it wasn’t them, or having an unannounced staring contest. catcalls. people who get super uncomfortable really easily. when someone makes a superficial judgement about them without getting to know them first. self-pitying people who try to guilt them into dating them.
sagittarius
“shhh!” feeling like a nuisance. people who get offended when they curse. people who are overly secretive and protective of their phones. youtuber apology videos. when someone thinks their interests are “cringey”. when someone spoils the end of a movie, book or tv series. when their family leaves balled-up hair on the shower wall. people who don’t take them seriously. old people with superiority complexes. their dysfunctional family dynamic. mockers
capricorn
people who purposefully fart near them and think of it as a joke. april fool’s day. their uncle. fake-deep quotes. edgy posts (like “at the end of the day nothing matters” and other stuff like that). when people invalidate their problems by quoting vague, condescendingly positive philosophies. when they can’t find a misplaced belonging (capricorns FREAK OUT when this happens; it’s intense). waking up late and not having enough time to complete their perfectly crafted routines.
aquarius
people who attach emotions to every little situation. people who don’t straight-up state how they’re feeling, and passive-aggressively expect them to just “get it”. when people guilt them for not hanging out with them every waking second. people who don’t honor their need for independence and individuality. clingy people. close-minded bigots. people who are so self-centered that they’re unable to see the magnitude of others’ suffering. when someone is blissfully unaware of the world. people who complain and wallow in their sadness yet who do nothing to change their situation. people who overreact to trivial things. highly reactive people. judgmental stares.
pisces
“are you seriously crying about that?” coarseness meant to be perceived as “cool”. people who are so sarcastic to the point of it being offensive. when people think of animals as less valuable than people. spiritual superiority (”my beliefs are the only right ones”). perfectionists. timed tests. trying to do push-ups. when someone invalidates their emotions because they’re “not logical”
#aries#taurus#gemini#cancer#leo#virgo#libra#scorpio#sagittarius#capricorn#aquarius#pisces#the signs as#annoying#what annoys the signs#what irritates the signs#what bothers the signs#irritating#astrology#astrology observations#astrological observations#astrologytrash05
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Deep in Love
Summary: It's been too long since Chris has been away. When his flight gets delayed, she's sad. But wakes up to Chris ready to take her breath away.
Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: 18+ content, bodily fluids, oral (female receiving), sexual Intercourse, unprotected sex
A/N: I had to give some loving to my other muse, Mr. Evans. First ever smut and I would like to start with him because he has been the object of my fantasies for more than a decade.
Title: Deep in Love
Chris hated it when I watch his interviews online. He said he only acts the way the public wants him to be like, a little naughty for PR, a little held down to not come off as uncivilized or too out spoken.
To some extent I agreed. Chris was the human equivalent of a teddy bear, soft and cuddly and his intellect was beyond what could be projected through the camera. Chris was more than just a face and I was lucky to see him for who he really was.
Waking up to his sleep ladden eyes, heavy voice with tousled hair was the best sight for me. But I would never lie that seeing him on screen, all primped and dashing, got me craving for him even more.
Especially when he had been away for months on end and Skype calls could only satisfy me so much.
This particular one that I had stumbled on YouTube, a photoshoot interview that featured him answering the same old questions about his life. He always complained he was so tired of repeating the same things, but it was all part of the job eventually. He looked breathtakingly handsome in this one, the photographer had done a fantastic job.
Chris looked the best with his beard-a personal preferance for him and me alike. It was trimmed neatly, his hair slicked back and the beige and brown outfit complimenting him so well. Hearing his voice, that laugh, it just made me miss him more.
Dodger whined from his place on the adjacent couch. Chris's voice from the speakers seemed to have grabbed his attention too.
"Yeah, buddy. I know. I miss him too." I cooed at him.
My phone rang besides me, a video call from the man himself.
"Hi, babe."
How was it possible to be feeling mushy by your boyfriend's voice even after being together for three years?
"Tell me you are reaching home soon." I went to sit near Dodger, ruffling his fur while I spoke to Chris.
He scratched the back of his neck. "Actually, my flight got delayed because of the weather."
I frowned. I had been so excited for him to finally be with me, even prepared his favourite lasagna and bought his favourite wine. I was hoping that he would make in time for lunch and then we could cuddle in the bed while he slept his jet-lag off.
"Hey," he called out. His eyes soft and apologetic. "I'll be home today, don't you worry. Okay?"
I was afraid if he didn't come home tonight, I might forget what it felt like to be buried in his chest, his arms holding me tight. His scent was already close to a faded memory, no matter how hard I tried to remember it.
"I miss you so much." I sounded a bit whiny there, but I really did miss him a lot.
"I miss you too, baby. I can't wait to kiss you till you become breathless." He said in a sing-song voice, trying to make me laugh.
I did chuckle but the thought of being kissed by Chris untill my lungs gave out felt so hot. As my thoughts began drifting to activities that usually followed our out-of-breath kissing, my cheeks heated up and wetness began forming down south.
Dodger decided to bark at the moment, all the way near the door.
"Oh, someone wants to go pee-pee." Chris chuckled and shook his head.
I was thankful that Chris took no notice of my blush because I wasn't sure if I could handle it if he had decided to tease me with some descriptive imagery of our love making. I glanced at our pooch staring at me with expectant eyes to let him out.
"Wait, I'll just let him out-"
"Actually, I'll call you back. Someone is at the door, probably an update. If I'm late, babe, don't wait up okay? I'll kiss you good morning tomorrow."
I nodded and he was gone. I really didn't want to miss giving him a welcome hug when he came home. I didn't want a good morning kiss, I wanted a good night loving.
"Looks like we'll have to wait a little longer for your dad, Bubba." I told Dodger before letting him out.
***
I had no clue what time it was. When I opened my eyes, our bedroom lights were on, music playing from my ear buds, and a warm presence behind me.
Thought about not locking the door securely, or leaving a window open, giving access to a murderous intruder flooded my mind. I turned so quickly to look at the presence, I had to blink several times from the head rush.
My heart was racing from the fear, but it wasn't an intruder's sinister eyes that met mine. The man with soft, blue green eyes with a tired smile on his face looked back at me.
"Chris?" I sat up instantly, giving myself another head rush. But this was incredulous. I really hoped I wasn't dreaming. "Are you really here?" I stupidly asked.
His chest rumbled with his chuckle, him sitting up too. His face so close to mine, his breath washed over my face. A wide smile spread over my face and I threw my arms around him.
He welcomed me and held me tightly against his chest. Oh, how much had I missed the physical contact between us. He felt so warm, so strong, it made my heart flutter. I took a deep breath, the faint scent of his cologne and soap lingering, enveloping me entirely.
Chris pulled back his face, making me look at him. He placed a gentle hand behind my head and slowly placed a kiss on my lips.
I swear I was about to melt. He pulled me closer with his arm, I was almost straddling him now. Our bodies were flushed together, my arms still around his neck.
His beard scuffed against my face, as his lips moved with mine in perfect synchronization.
I had imagined this moment various times in the past months, about our reunion. It always hurt me when he left but whenever he came back, it felt surreal. I could feel the intensity of our kiss deepen with his tongue beginning to move with mine. Warmth spread from my cheeks, to my chest and settled as a heat pooled between my thighs as I tasted his sweet cavern.
I moaned as I felt his erection beginning to strain against his pants, nudging my thigh through the clothes.
The desperation to feel our bodies close, sans the obstructive fabric of our clothes, was so urgent that we nearly tore them off of our bodies. Chris laid me down on the bed, placing himself in between my legs. His cock was hard and ready and my core wet and dripping for him.
But instead, Chris decided to travel down my body. He gently grabbed a hold of my breasts, kneading them and placing kisses all over. My back arched as he took a hardened nipple in his mouth and sucked at it.
I held onto his arms, feeling the tautness of his muscles underneath my touch. I moaned when one of his hands travelled down my body and teased me at my entrance.
"Baby you are so wet. You really did miss me a lot, huh?" He smirked against my breast, his eyes dark and lustful. He placed kisses over my body, goosebumps appearing on my skin, making his way even further down.
I shuddered when he reached in between my thighs, his warm breath against my quivering folds. I let out a shaky breath when he looked at me, his dark eyes lined by his long lashes.
"Oh..." I moaned as he flicked his tongue over my swollen nub. I felt his fingers rubbing at my entrance before he slid one digit in and took my clit in his mouth.
I moaned out his name like a prayer, my hands reaching out and grasping at his head. His soft hair clutched in mine while he performed his ministrations on me.
The heat pooled at the bottom of my belly. He sucked and licked and flicked his tongue over me, another finger joining the first one. I was so immensely starved of his touch, that it did not even take long for me to come against his mouth. My thighs shuddered, my body felt hot and my panting breaths were the only thing audible in the room.
Chris lapped at my juices like it was nectar. He climbed back on top of me, not giving me a moment to relax. He licked his lips while lining his cock against my entrance.
The sound that escaped his lips when he entered the tip of his penis inside me was so erotic. My insides stretched to accommodate him, feeling him bury deep in me.
"Fuck, babe. You feel so tight." He said with a moan when he was fully within.
I finally felt one with him, joined at our bodies, competing each other. He leaned down, lifting my legs to wrap around his waist and kissed me deeply. I could still taste myself on his lips, feel him pulsating inside me. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pulled out and trusted back inside.
My hips met his thrusts with groans excaping from our lips. The room suddenly was beginning to feel warm, our bodies beginning to sweat. He wound his arms around my waist while I encircled his neck, pulling him down for another kiss. The familiar knotting was beginning to deep within me as Chris hit my sweet spot with each thrust, like he had done a hundred times before.
The time away from each other must have been difficult for both of us, because like me, Chris didn't last long either. Together we came, him shuddering above me with a curse, filling me up. I buried my head in the crook of his neck, digging my nails in his skin, as his final thrusts pushed me over the edge once again.
In a heap of sweaty limbs, we both laid, spent and undone. Chris took deep labored breaths, his head on the pillow besides me. My heart was pounding in my chest as I felt Chris begin to go soft inside me.
"Hell of a reunion, wasn't it?" I managed to speak.
He climbed off of me and laid on his side. His breaths still coming in short but a content smile on his face.
"Told you I'll kiss you good morning." He pulled me over to him, my head resting against his chest. His heart was racing still, I could hear it thumping underneath. He rubbed my arm as his eyes began to close, tiredness getting to him. "Take a nap, babe. We'll need the energy for round two."
I smiled against his chest, hearing him snore and drifting into slumber.
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Dating Headcanons
Tanaka x Reader, Bokuto x Reader, Kenma x Reader
Warnings- Fluff, and Some Implied things
Tanaka
He is going to worship you Mans is a simp He will give you all of his clothes, a key to his house, and everything he owns if you ask
Calls you My Diety but in public its normal things like Baby
He's not too big on PDA but if he's mad or jealous his hands are going to be all over you and if you come to one of his games, He's going to be on fire and dedicate all over his big hits to you
As soon as he meets you, Kiyoka is no longer the most beautiful person he's ever seen. He is going to be everywhere you are just trying to talk to you and learn about you but he just can't seem to say anything. Poor Baby is Stunned.
Your first kiss with him would be as soon as you accepted his confession. He would pull you into his embrace and show you just how happy he was that you liked him too
He's very passionate with everything he does that includes his kisses so expect a lot of passion coming from him
He would be scared to introduce you to his sister tho because he knows she's going to bust out the baby pictures and videos of when he tried to start a youtube channel. You can't change my mind that he didn’t make videos of himself jumping on a trampoline or something.
But if you and Saeko get along he’ll fall in love all over again. Please bully him with her
“Do you have to meet herrr?” Tanaka was whining and complaining hoping you would give up on meeting his sister but, with your determination, he was screwed. “ Ryu I wanna meet her.” “ Fineeeeeee.” You and Tanaka continued to walk back to his house hand and hand but he was pretty quiet the rest of the way. Would Saeko like you? Would you like Saeko? Would she mortally embarrass him so much that you didn't want to be with him anymore? He was way more worried then he should have been. As you two approached his house he fumbled with his keys just trying to unlock the door. “ It's going to be fine Ryu.” “I know just, what if something happens or you don't like her?” “ I'm sure she's lovely.” and with that, he opened the door. That night Tanaka slept well with you in his arms knowing that Saeko loved you just as much as he does.
Bokuto
As soon as he saw you he became a simp. He would walk you to your classes and ask to eat lunch with you. He would be so excited to see you and He would fill his notebooks with little doodles of you and him and write Y/n Bokuto on all of his stuff too.
Everyone would assume you guys were dating because you two would always hangout.
He’s the person to accidentally confess and then freaks out and ramble till you shut him up but if you accepted he's going to pick you up and spin around
Your first dates with him will be a walk in the park or going to get Ice-cream and Bubble tea
His kisses are filled with teeth, he's just too excited to care. All of the kisses whether there simply or long there going to be filled with so much passion and teeth
He's going to want you to come to all of his games and wear his jacket.
When it comes to PDA Bokuto doesn't care whether you're at home or in the mall he's always going to have at least one of his hands on your skin. Bokuto doesn't get jealous too often but if he does he's going to be all over you
Will always say “Hey Hey Hey!” just so he can see you laugh and smile at him. He's going to tell every story or joke he can think of just to see you smile. He's Obsessed With your smile
Calls you anything he thinks is cute. He called you Pretty Lover for a week just because you wore a flashy outfit
You and Akaashi are going to be good friends. You probably bonded after telling stories about things Bokutos did or almost did. You two will take turns looking after Bokuto as well.
Kenma
When he first met you, you were just one of Kuroo's friends. You were probably begged to come to a game and you're glad you went. You would be cheering for Nekoma from the stands and for a second you would lock eyes with the setter and that's what would start all of this
Kenma would have noticed you when you first went to talk to Kuroo before the game and from then on he was starstruck. He wouldn't understand his feelings at all.
You would continue to show up to games just to see Kenma and Kenma would continue to notice you and get all red and blushy but he wouldn't ever talk to you. Poor babys shy. You would have to initiate the conversation
After one of the games, you would casually stand near the locker rooms just waiting, casually. Once Kuroo comes out you would ask any and everything that came to your mind about Kenma “Why do you wanna know so much about Kenma? Oooo you like him don't you.” “ Noo, Maybe, Just a little, maybe a lot, Okay fine I like Kenma.”
Kuroo would give you every piece of information he could before Kenma comes out of the locker room and as soon as he does Kuroos pushing you over to talk to him and the rest is history.
PDA is little to none. He’ll hold your hand if he's not playing on his PSP but if he's feeling jealous he wouldn't touch you at all till you too are in private and once you guys are he's going to hold you and never let go “ KenKen I have to go to the bathroom please let go.” “ no.”
His kisses are sweet and simple but, if you pull his hair you just might not walk the next day. He would get riled up when you pull, tug or grab his hair
He doesn't really like going out for dates, so he would plan Animal Crossing Dates My Heart.
He would either call you by your first name or something simply like Sweetheart.
Would invite you to do streams with him and calls you Player Two during them
PLEASE BRAID HIS HAIR
#tanaka ryuunosuke#tanaka x reader#tanaka ryunosuke x reader#kotaro bokuto#bokuto#bokuto x reader#kotaro bokuto x reader#kenma x reader#kenma kozume#kenma kozume x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#nekoma#fukorodani#karasuno#fluff
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Mutual Feelings
Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Summary: Jungkook is nervous because you haven’t told him you love him; you have an important question for him. Genre: fluff Notes: Part of the Long Term Couples series. Read more here
If, last year, someone had asked Jungkook if he was cool with being in a relationship with someone who seemed physically resistant to saying the words ‘I love you’ in a meaningful way, he would have said absolutely not. Jungkook’s a patient man, but even he has limits. He likes to feel solid in his relationships, likes to not have any questions left on the table. He thinks he’s an open book, and he likes his partners to be the same way.
When he let those three words slip out not even a month into your relationship, he had mentally kicked himself. He had thought it was too soon, but he was trying to reassure you and they had tumbled out of his fat mouth before he could stop them. As it turned out, he hadn’t stopped saying them since.
You, on the other hand, had somehow gone from the cheerful ‘I love you’s whispered between friends to not saying it at all, not even after he had said it, and not ever since. He had grown so used to them during your six years of friendship that going six months without felt a little empty.
You weren’t ready. It was a big step for you, and he understood. He just wished he knew if there was any way for him to help you want to take that step. That, coupled with the fact that intimacy beyond kissing was off the table meant that Jungkook was more unsure in this relationship than he had ever been before.
This was all so new. He’d had girlfriends in the past, but in the years of knowing you, he’d never heard you talk about anyone significant in your life. He wasn’t sure if you’d never dated anyone, or if you’d never dated anyone that mattered, but at this point, he wasn’t sure that was important. Your friendship meant the world to him–you meant the world to him–and he was just so worried about losing that.
So he was second guessing himself constantly. Was he wrong to tell you he loved you so soon? Did he make a mistake in assuming you would want to see him both at work and at home every day? Had he been too forward when he drunkenly asked you out? Not forward enough the next day when you confronted him about it? Did he make enough time for you? Was he letting you know how he felt often enough, or was he smothering you?
Jungkook had thought that he had known you so well back when you were still just friends, but now… he had trouble reading you. He supposed that it was because you wouldn’t outright tell him how you felt.
Although, it wasn’t like you didn’t love him. Hearing the words would be nice, but the fact that you didn’t say them didn’t mean you didn’t feel them. And Jungkook definitely felt loved.
He felt it when he pushed himself too hard at rehearsals and performances. Not only were you there to take care of him, you scolded him for not taking care of himself. He knew you appreciated his work ethic and dedication, but the fact that you could hold an ice pack to his neck, pet his hair, and yell at him all at the same time honestly made his heart swell.
And he felt it when he screwed up his heel in London. You were there, distracting him from the pain before the concert, and helping pick him up when it was over. He had been devastated to not be able to perform, to be confined to a chair on stage, but having you dote on him afterwards almost made it better. And while you weren’t dating at the time, Jungkook knew that you wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing again, since every time there was even the threat of an injury, you were at his side.
It was there when he had showed up on your doorstep with a dog and you had just gone with it. He had rightfully expected some pushback, but he hadn’t quite expected just how quickly you had agreed. He prepared a speech! He had rehearsed that speech the whole way from the pet store to your apartment! But he loved that you trusted him enough to take in his dog, he loved that you were comfortable enough around him to be spontaneous like that, and he loved that, even in just the couple weeks that you had Kimchi, you had fallen in love with the puppy. He may have paid the adoption fees, but you both knew that Kimchi had quickly become your dog.
He felt it when you jumped to defend him, like his own personal knight in shining armor, fighting for his honor. It didn’t matter if it was something you saw on Twitter, one of the other guys, or even himself–you got heated about it all the same. You had a secret account on almost every social platform just to yell at people on his behalf. You would playfully scold the guys when their teasing got a little too intense. And you always stopped him when he got too down on himself. In fact, you had been the one to first introduce him to the “you shouldn’t be mean to my best friend” rebuke.
He even felt it in how fiercely competitive you could be. Jungkook loved that you could go from defending him in one breath to threatening to smother him in his sleep in the next. He had gotten you into Overwatch, and he had expanded his gaming repertoire based on your tastes, and honestly he was never happier than he was curled up in bed playing video games with you, and at this point, he was convinced that you felt the same.
It was there in the late night texts you sent him when the two of you spent the night apart, and in the early morning phone calls he received the following morning. It didn’t matter if the two of you were in different timezones, you always texted him goodnight. And while he might not always be awake enough to respond, he had started looking forward to those short messages. And then the next morning, he was always happy to answer the phone when you called, even if you woke him up with the call. There was something about your cheerful ‘good morning!,’ especially if he knew it was three in the afternoon for you.
So while he definitely would prefer to hear you say it, Jungkook supposed that he could wait a little longer, because your actions spoke louder than any words.
He thought about this as he worked, the task of washing that night’s dinner dishes mindless enough that he could safely let his mind wander without risking too much. You, too, were in your own little world, drying the dishes and bopping around to the music blasting out of the little bluetooth speaker you kept in your kitchen.
Dinner had been tense that night. Not because anything was particularly wrong–or, at least, Jungkook didn’t know of anything that was wrong–just because you seemed incredibly nervous, and he wasn’t sure why. But the entire time you helped him cook and while the two of you were sitting in front of the tv watching YouTube videos and eating, he could feel the nervous energy rolling off you. He wanted to ask, but every time it crossed his mind, it didn’t seem like a good time.
The song changed, Jungkook smiled at the opening notes to “My Time” wafting out of the speaker. He loved that you loved his music. You grabbed the wet skillet off the counter as you started to hum along, and he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Once it was dry, you placed the skillet on your stove–you used it for everything, so he supposed you never saw the need to properly put it away.
You continued to hum as he let the water out of the sink, the dishes finally complete. With a sigh, you tossed your towel down on the counter and leaned against the cabinets below, watching him rinse the last of the bubbles down the drain.
“So I’ve been thinking.” Jungkook noted the hint of nerves in your voice. “And, I mean, you’re totally allowed to say no to this, I just figured I’d ask-”
“Babe. Breathe,” he joked, flicking some water off his hands in your direction. You giggled, leaning away slightly from his attack. He placed a hand on your hip, tugging slightly and pulling you closer. His other arm snaked around your waist as soon as you were close enough, holding you loosely against his body.
“I was wondering,” you started again, placing your hands on his chest and playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt. “If maybe you wanted to move in?”
Jungkook could feel his heart start to pound in his chest. He was sure that you could feel it, being as close as you were. Was this what you were nervous about earlier?
“I mean, you’re over here most of the time, anyway. And Kimchi’s here.” You glanced at the brown and tan dog napping under your breakfast nook. “I know the dorm’s convenient, so if you want to leave some stuff there, that’s fine. But I wanted to offer.”
He couldn’t help the goofy smile spreading across his face. Honestly, Jungkook hadn’t expected your relationship to move this far this quickly. But he wasn’t complaining. At this point, a good majority of his clothes were at your apartment–he still had the bag tucked into your closet, but he had also lost count of the number of hoodies and sweatpants and t-shirts he had left here that he just hadn’t bothered to take back to the dorm. His laptop was here, his PS4 was here, his dog was here, you were here, and really, that’s all he needed.
“Sure.” He nodded, his eyes meeting yours. You looked happy, which only made his smile grow. He could feel his face start to heat up, and for a second, he felt like a teenager again, confronted by his noona crush. It was weird–and a little fitting considering the song that was still playing–for him to realize that he had never had that experience in school. “I would like that a lot.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook nodded, his hand covering yours on his chest. “We’re going to need new furniture.” Your eyes sparkled as you said it, and he couldn’t tell if you were joking.
“Please tell me you didn’t just ask me to move in so you had an excuse to get a new couch.”
You hummed, one of your hands tangling in the long hair at the back of his neck. You smiled at him–it was innocent enough, but he could see mischief in it, too. “Not at all.” Your lips brushed against his softly. “But if we could celebrate the occasion with a new couch, who am I to argue?”
Jungkook laughed and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He felt it then, too, standing there in your kitchen, your arms wrapped tightly around him. You didn’t need to say it, not yet at least. He knew.
You loved him. And the feeling was absolutely mutual.
Read more of the series here
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caught red handed: tom holland imagine
a/n | I had this idea literally falling asleep last night and had to write it down on a sticky note to remember to write about it today because I liked it so much hehe!!! I hope it delivers
summary: Tom comes back from filming to find you really *missing* him...
(link to absolute gem of a vid I reference here)
tom x fem reader | contains language, masturbation, third base things, v suggestive dialogue and a sprinkle of fluff! | word count: 670 | enjoy!
“Sweetheart, I gotta go, manager’s calling,” your boyfriend says, pouting into his front-facing camera.
“Are you sure?” you try to stall, hesitant to end your facetime call.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, babe...I promise we’ll talk tomorrow,” he says softly, blowing you a kiss. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Tom,” you sigh, and his face disappears from your screen.
You absolutely loved him, which came hand in hand with hating when he was away filming, but you had signed up for this life, so you had no room to complain. But you missed him so much it made your head hurt, and he had looked so cute in that black hoodie he was wearing tonight...now your whole body ached to feel him against you again. It had only been a month, and you still had three to go.
Feeling creepy but needy, you pulled up that final fantasy bit he filmed on youtube where he was wearing that same hoodie, just so you could see him in it a little longer and hear his voice again. The video plays and starts focused on him doing those push ups, then those pull ups...
Fuck.
You felt a warmth rising from your stomach, and half-mindedly moved your hand down to your track shorts, rubbing yourself and willing your brain to imagine that it’s Tom’s hand and not your own. You listen to his breathy voice in the video, see his toned, muscular arms moving as he exercises, and start to steady a swift tempo, your other hand gripping your phone hard while the video plays. You close your eyes, seeing Tom on top of you, expertly making you feel good like he does. “Ah, Tom...” you whisper to nobody.
“Hell, I would’ve stayed on the line if I knew you were gonna get off to me like that, darling,” you hear that familiar damn accent say with a chuckle, your eyes going wide at the realization of another presence at your doorway.
“Oh my-- jesus, fuck, what the--Tom!?” you toss your phone across the bed and roll over onto your stomach, face turning violently red with embarrassment. You hear Tom continue to laugh as you groan.
“What are you doing here? You were supposed to be in- oh what am I- oh hell.” you can’t even get your words out. You turn around to look at him and can’t help but be more excited to see him than mortified at what he just witnessed.
He runs over to you and grabs you tightly, flopping onto the bed on top of you, peppering your face with kisses, unable to contain his excitement or cheeky giggling.
“We had a week off so I decided to come home and surprise you,” he started. “And what a welcome home present.” he smirks at you and you blush furiously again. “Shut up, Holland,” you reach your head up to kiss him. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“And what kind of homecoming would it be if I didn’t let you finish?” he says, raising an eyebrow, laying off you a little and propping himself up on one side. You bite your lip in mutual understanding. He begins to graze his hand over your stomach, against your inner thighs, and his touch feels like hot coals blissfully searing your skin.
He goes to continue where you left off, slipping his hand below your waistband, touching you in all the right spots. He slowly starts to slip his fingers inside you, curling them and releasing a breathy moan from deep within you.
“T-Tom...I missed you so much,” you say, and he shushes you by pressing his lips down heavy onto yours. Soon enough, he has you seeing stars, knowing just what to do to drive you over the edge, and you grab a handful of his hair as you come down from your high.
“Missed me, huh?” he buries his head into your neck, enjoying feeling your body relax into him, breathing becoming more steady again.
“You have no idea.” you smile, willing this next week to last forever.
#tom holland#tom holland blurb#tom holland imagine#tom holland smut#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland blurbs#tom holland one shot#tom holland one shots
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shave it all ❋ bambam
word count: 1613
genre: slice of life, fluff, established relationship!bambam
member: bambam x reader
description: it’s crazy to think that he can do whatever he wants, now; you two have gotten so used to the limitations that came with his old job that once they are gone it’s a bit disorienting. Especially for Bam. But you make sure to let him know that no matter what, you’re right there, by his side. All of you.
“No.”
“Oh, come on, babe,” He whines, stomping his feet like a little child. “Why not?”
“Because you could get in trouble, Bam!”
The words that leave your mouth are automatic– you’ve been saying them for so long, and so often, that now that you don’t have to worry about that anymore, if feels almost illegal to forget them.
“Oh really?!” The comedic sarcasm in his voice is clear and when Bambam throws his head back to laugh, you really want to slap that smug grin from his face. “We’ll get in trouble? How?”
“I hate you,” You mumble, eyeing the machine in his hands.
“Come on, Y/N,” He whines again, shoving it towards you. “It’s really starting to bother me.”
“Bam, you know I support you in everything you do,” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “And even when I know it is a bad idea I follow through, but this is… too much.”
“Why?”
“Because your whole career is based on your incredible talent and cursed good looks,” You shriek, trying to hide your smile as he laughs once again, arms encircling your ways and bringing you close. “How can you rely on the last one if you shave your head?!”
“Hm,” He hums, eyes squinting as he looks down at you. Bambam can feel your fingers playing with the hair on the back of his neck, a habit of yours– be it when you two are cuddling and about to fall asleep, or when you are watching a movie, or even talking, sometimes– and he wonders if there is another reason as to why you don’t want to help him shave his head. “Are you sure it is because of that?”
Your fingers still.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you sure you’re worried about my career?” His voice is low and teasing, and when he kisses you, you can feel the playfulness in his actions. “Because I think, you like me with longer hair.”
“I like you anyways–“
“Why the fuck you lyin’” Bambam sings, pulling away. “Think of this as… an adventure. It’ll be fun!”
“Then shave my hair too, why don’t you?” You mumble, frowning as you watch him pull a chair from the kitchen into the bathroom, wet hair framing his handsome face and you feel like crying at the thought of not seeing him with wet, long hair.
“Can I?!” He turns around excitedly. “Babe, you would rock a bald head like no one else, I swear to–“
“Oh my god, definitely not,” You chuckle, pushing him down on the char in front of you. “At least, not yet.”
“One day?” Bambam’s eyes are hopeful, and you absolutely love the look on him– one full of jovial glee and youth, and you are not even sure if you remember seeing him this light and carefree in all the years you’ve been together. He was always worried about something, be it image, or music, or schedule, and to see him finally act his age and look his age makes your heart beat faster.
“One day,” You sigh, knowing you have to do this. For him. “Now sit down– we’re shaving your head.”
“You’ll do it?” He questions, excited, and you nod, plugging the razor on the socket by the sink. Looking back at him, you know this is your last chance; you sit in his lap in a beat, legs on each side of him and you kiss him– hard and fast, hands grabbing his hair to pull him close. “Uh… maybe I shouldn’t–“
“No way,” You giggle, breathing a bit to hard. “We’re shaving your head.”
“Give me another one of those then,” Bam’s hands pull you closer, and this time he takes a bit more time to enjoy you two, mouth moving on your languidly, needy. When you move back to grab the machine, your boyfriend grabs your hand, and you can practically feel his nervousness.
“Are you okay?” You ask, softly brushing his hair back and away from his eyes. “Bam…”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” He smiles, looking down at his hands in his lap. “It’s just a bit weird being able to actually do these things, you know? No manager breathing down my neck, no company complaining about the things I say… no hyungs.”
“What do you mean, ‘no hyungs’?” You scoff, frowning a bit. You know he’s been having a hard time adjusting; although they were all pretty young when they first debuted, Bambam and Yugyeom were kids. They grew up under the care of the older boys and now, not having them so close like they used to be in the dorms, they have been feeling a bit alone.
At night Bambam cuddles closer to you and you notice how hard it is for him to sleep, or how he’s always in the GOT7 group chat, be it talking to the members or just sending random pictures and memes. It has been a big change for him; doing things, all the things he wanted to do before, and not having the other six guys to hype him up, or warn him, or care for him. So you try and compensate– you hug him closer when he feels restless at night, or you google funny memes of him on Twitter to send him, or even, sometimes, when he looks particularly lost, you sit with him on the couch, caressing his hair as you watch Youtube compilations of concerts and interviews. You know he’s having a particular difficult day when he plays videos from the tours on the TV, laughing at his own spastic behavior.
“I have an idea,” You say when he doesn’t answer you. You pull your cellphone out, and go into the group chat with the other six boys and the girls, hitting the video call button.
It’s funny how quick they are to pick up a call when it comes from you, worried faces popping up on your screen and a cacophony of voices asking about their friend.
“Y/N?” JB frowns. “Is everything okay? Is Bam okay?!”
“What happened?” Yugyeom shouts, eyes wide and crazy looking for his best friend on the tiny screen.
“Is the kid okay?” Jackson screeches and you laugh at his pained expression.
“Everything is okay,” You shout, trying to make your voice louder than all of theirs together. “We are all alive!”
“Oh thank god,” Youngjae mutters.
“What’s this about then?” Jinyoung is the first to ask, and you move away to show your boyfriend sitting on the chair with wet hair and a towel around his neck. “Oh god, what the hell are you kids doing now?”
“We’re going to shave his head,” You announce, and ignoring the mixture of laughter and shocked gasps, you continue. “And because this is a very important moment of rebellion and freedom for the youngster, we wanted you all to be present, even if only by video.”
“Ah, waking up for this was definitely worth it,” Mark groans, humor lacing his voice as he turns on the light in his room. “You’re going to look ridiculous, Bam. I love it.”
“Hey, everyone,” Just the tone of his voice is enough to tell you that he’s back to his usual self. “I miss you all…”
“We miss you too, Bam!” Yugyeom whines, and you chuckle at the duo dabbing together. “Wanna hang out next week?”
“Absolutely,” Bambam grabs your hand just as you move behind him with the machine, ready to say goodbye to his precious hair.
“Ready?” You mutter, just for him to hear.
“I love you,” Is his answer, and the whole bathroom quiets as soon as the buzzing starts, and it takes only a few seconds to shave a strip from the center of his forehead to the back of his head.
Silence reigns for a beat before everyone is laughing– you included. Having your share of fun, you start shaping his hair in odd cuts, always making sure to not pull or accidentally nip his scalp. Bambam had set the electric razor to leave him with a buzzcut, and you’d never admit it to his face because the teasing would be endless, but the more that you shave off, the more you start liking this style. It’s soft, and although it doesn’t leave you much to play with, it shows so much of Bambam’s face that you can’t complain.
“You look like an egg!” Jackson cries out, laughing. “This is so good.”
“Shut up, he looks great!” You chuckle, watching Jackson’s girlfriend slap him behind the head and offer you and Bam a thumbs up. You make a mental note to thank her and Jacks for the Team Wang gifts, after all of this is done.
It’s only when the buzzing stops that everyone inches closer to their cameras, taking a proper look at your boyfriend. Honestly, there is not much room for mistakes with an electric razor, but you still pat your self on the back once you notice just how hot Bambam looks running his hand over his buzzed hair, muscles bulging and a smirk once his eyes meet your. He can read you like a book and just the possibility of him knowing what’s running through your mind makes you blush.
“How do you feel?” You ask, hopefully easing the growing tension in the room.
“Sexy,” He says, and all the boys laugh, girls hyping him up. “I kind of like this.”
“I like it too,” You kiss his cheek. “I like you.”
“Like?”
“Love.”
“Love,” He nods. “Love you.”
He pecks your mouth, and just as he deepens the kiss, you can hear Jackson’s voice in the background.
“He does look like an egg, though– OW!”
—————————————
Not gonna lie, this one made me 😢 Baby Bam missing his hyungs is just too much for my poor heart to handle 😚 What do you think of this one? Let me know! If you liked this story, please please please share, comment, like, or anything you feel comfortable doing ❤️ thank you for your endless support, lovelies💕
#got7#igot7#one door closes seven more open series#got7 bambam#bambam#bambam imagine#bambam one shot#Im Jaebeom#mark tuan#park jinyoung#jackson wang#choi youngjae#bambam fluff#bambam slice of life#kim yugyeom#got7 imagines#bambam imagines#imagine#imagines#got7 imagine#multifandom imagines#one shot#got7 series#got7 slice of life#idol#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop icons#bambam scenarios#bambam scenario
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plainly in truth, chapter 3/5
"Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."
—
Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.
read on ao3 or below the cut :)
Ryuji grips the letter like it was silver and he was a werewolf in the full moon.
He picks it up, skims over the first line before putting it down beside him, feeling worse every time he does it, only able to read the fine-printed lettering from the flickering lamp post above him. The constant change in light would normally bug him, but he doesn’t really care about it now; it’s not like the words would change in his hand, and he’s long since needed to actually read it to know what it reads.
His feet dangle over the canal, enjoying the way a rush of adrenaline would go through him when he looks down into the deep waters. It’s late enough in the night that even with the city lights around him, he can’t gauge how deep it goes.
Soseikawa Park was only a five minute walk from Odori Park, but with the narrow river and steeped hills, Ryuji found it secluded enough to let himself sit. Breathe. Not exist, even for just a few minutes. It’s like having his own bedroom, except it smells faintly like a sewer and there’s an intersection about ten meters above where he sat underneath the overpass. If he can ignore the never-ending rumble of cars and trucks driving above him, it can almost be considered peaceful.
He lets himself fall back, the grass tickling the back of his neck and his spine screaming in relief. They’re heading out again in two days, which means more days of being in an inescapable RV surrounded by his best friends who are keeping an eye on him because they’re good people who don’t know how to mind their own fucking business.
Idly, he lets his hands pull and brings it to his face—blades of grass. He lets it get taken by the wind. After brief consideration, he shoves the letter back into his pocket before he can do the same thing to it.
He is so tired.
Blindly, he hits the vague area of where his pocket is and fishes out his phone, hitting the first speed dial before he can talk himself out of it. As two rings go by, he stupidly hopes that she doesn’t pick up, as if she hasn’t ever missed a phone call from him even when she’s at work.
The third ring gets cut off halfway through. “Ryu!”
Despite himself, he grins. “Hey, ma. Checking in for the weekly call.”
“I was just thinking about you,” she says, and he can hear the laundry machine run in the background. “I was wondering if you had eaten today.”
“Ma, you ain’t gotta worry about that kinda thing anymore. I’m a big boy now.”
“You’re breaking my heart!” He can almost see her, phone tucked in the crook of her neck, work-worn hands folding her laundry as fast as she can so as to not hold up the next person in line. “It doesn’t matter how big you are, you’re my boy. How can I not think about whether my boy is eating or not?”
“All I’ve done on this trip is eat, ma.”
“Oh, and Akira! How’s that handsome boy doing? Still taking the world by storm?”
That pulls a genuine laugh from him—he never needs to hold back when it comes to talking about Akira, at least. “You know it. He’s the only guy in the world who can stand toe-to-toe with me in chowing down. I swear, he’s slipping some of it under the table ‘cause he’s so damn fast. Forty seconds! Forty seconds to inhale an extra large beef bowl! Blows my mind, seriously.”
“Could never do anything in halves, can he?” she chuckles, before the quality of her voice shifts. “And are you enjoying yourself?”
He hesitates. “Yeah, of course. It’s a roadtrip across Japan, how can I not?”
“Good.” There’s some crackling over the receiver, and he guesses she’s probably adjusting the basket full of clothes on her hip. “That’s all I want to hear. As long as you’re happy, Ryu, I’m a happy old woman.”
Ryuji opens his mouth, ready to console her.
I’m always happy!
You worry too much, ma.
There’s nothing to worry about.
“Sorry, but,” he swallows thickly. “I think they’re calling for me? So—”
“Alright,” she says, and he might be imagining the disappointed tinge to it. “Call back when you can, okay sweetheart? I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he clears his throat. “I love you, ma.”
“I love you too, Ryu.”
He hangs up, letting the phone slip out of his fingers. It lands hard on the flat grass
For a long moment, he just lays there, listening to the gentle lapping waves and cars honking with impatience of people who have somewhere to be. He tries to meditate for half a minute, with all the information he had learned from a couple of YouTube videos, and gives up, because of course he does. Squeezing his eyes shut, he can’t do anything about the creeping dread that’s in his stomach getting stronger, squeezing and squeezing until he feels sick. It’s like his insecurities are having this huge fight against each other, feeding off of one another until it gets too big for him to handle and all he can do is breathe and try to do something about it.
And he’s fucking sick of it—breathing. He’s sick of the stupid breathing techniques, sick of counting down from ten and waiting for his own heart to chill out because his brain won’t stop reminding him of everything he did wrong, of shit he’s still doing wrong because at least this way, nobody knows what he did was wrong. It’s just him that can point and laugh at himself, and that’s way better than having the world do it for him.
He doesn’t cry, because he’s not a crier. He’s the type of guy to throw a fist through drywood before shedding a tear, and he hates that about himself. Rather than do something that will actually help, Ryuji lays there, perfectly still. Listening. Waiting for a meteor to fall on him, or for the overpass to crash its entire weight on top of him.
Instead, he hears footsteps.
His heart rate slows by a fraction, and opens his eyes to meet gray ones. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Akira says, a smile in his voice. “How did you know it was me?”
Ryuji almost feels offended. He would know Akira by sound alone, the way his heels would click in the Metaverse. The way the balls of his feet would strike the earth, hardly muffled by grass or cheap sneakers or anything else as trivial. Ryuji would know he was there; no matter how blind he was with hatred for himself, his love for Akira would always guide him back to where he needs to be.
“Lucky guess.”
“One hell of a guess.” He plops down onto the grass and Ryuji lifts his head, allowing Akira to wiggle until he could use his lap as a pillow. “Your turn,” Akira says.
“My turn to what?”
“To ask me how I knew where you were.”
“Oh.” He lets his eyes slide shut again. “I kinda just assumed you could do that.”
“You assume too much of me sometimes.”
“I assume the right amount.” Ryuji refuses to shiver when he feels long fingers start to card through his hair. “You’re giving me goosebumps,” he sighs.
“That’s a good thing, I think.” The fingers pull away and he’s about to complain when he feels something gets thrown over his torso. “Here. You always end up forgetting to wear an extra layer when you go out like this.”
Ryuji rearranges Akira’s jacket over himself. “Sap.”
“You know it.” He resumes combing through his hair, and Ryuji lets himself relax, just a little. It’s strange—it’s hard as hell being around other people nowadays, and even though Akira can make him feel that sometimes, mostly it helps the eternal twisting of his stomach to settle.
“You’re good at that,” Ryuji mutters.
“Thank you. I’ve had plenty of practice with Morgana.” And just to make it worse, he uses a little bit of nail on his nape, sending electricity running down all the way to his fingertips.
His mouth twists unhappily. “Don’t do shit like that while talking about the cat, for the love of god.”
Akira does it again, like the little shit he is. “You still have that weird thing with your neck?”
“Quit it!” Ryuji slaps his thigh and he can’t muster much anger when he can feel Akira’s shoulders shake from silent laughter. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“You’re right.” Gently, softly, like the world’s lightest feather, he feels lips brush his temple. “I’m funnier.”
His eyes open, and his entire vision is obscured by curly black hair and tender eyes. “You’re right,” he breathes. “You’re funnier.”
Akira bends down again, and Ryuji catches his lips, overflowing with something soft but unafraid, and it’s so good that Ryuji reaches for his cheek just to make it last a little bit longer.
When they break off, Akira kisses his temple again, this time on the left side. “Do you know what day it is?”
“Uh,” he scratches his head, brain a little fuzzy. “Tuesday?”
“It’s Wednesday, and I meant the date. It’s August tenth.”
“Okay?”
Akira thumbs at his collarbone. “I know this might be a little lame that I know it by heart, but I left Tokyo on March 19th. That would mean it’s been—”
“One hundred forty-four days since you moved away,” he finishes. “I know.”
Akira blinks, and then laughs, and Ryuji knows it’s an especially good one because sound actually comes out this time. “Yes,” he says, elated. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
“I told you dude, we’re really on that telepathy shit.”
“We really are.” A pause. “I miss you.”
He’s about to joke—I’m right here, you big dummy—but find that he just can’t. “I miss you too.”
They can’t say what they mean: I will miss you. Summer vacation doesn’t last forever, and two months will always be a hell of a lot shorter than the rest of the ten months that they’ll be apart. Somehow, he dreads seeing Akira gone, and he’ll dread seeing Akira back in Tokyo because it would mean that he’d actually have to see what Ryuji’s really like. Actively pushing away his best friend just so he doesn’t have to see his failures; doesn’t that just make him the worst piece of shit in the world?
There’s a gap, though. A little loophole. A crack in the timeline. A place where maybe he’s allowed to be a hollowed out version of happy; the now.
“Tomorrow’s our last day in Sapporo?”
“Yeah?” Akira replies, surprised at the change in tone.
“Which means Jail stuff is done, right? All your grocery shopping and Sophia Prime’s been ordered and packed up?”
“Yes,” he says, a lilt in his voice. “It’s all done.”
Ryuji sits up and faces him, reaching for his wrists, relishing in the heartbeat thumping against his palms. “Let’s do something. I don’t care what, but let’s do something. Eat at a diner, go to a museum, rob a bank, whatever.” He runs his thumb along the veins there, long since those bumps have been ingrained in his brain. “Let’s do something, just you and me.”
“Are you asking me out on a date, Sakamoto?” He has a cocky look in his eye, and Ryuji’s half-tempted to kiss him again just to wipe it clean off his face. “You know I’d follow you anywhere.”
He knows. That’s the scary part. Would Akira still follow someone he doesn’t know as well as he thinks he does? “I’ll get us lost,” he jokes.
Akira doesn’t laugh. “I’d rather be lost with you than learn to lose you.”
It’s been ages since he’s been flustered at anything Akira does, but he feels a rush of heat crawl up his neck. “I’ll—” Ryuji shakes his head, willing his embarrassment to go away. “Shit, uh—”
“I’ll pick where to go,” he interrupts, a little too smug for his liking. “I’d say I’ll pick you up at your place, but…”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a comedian,” Ryuji rolls his eyes. “I’ll be ready whenever.”
“Fantastic.” Akira checks his phone, wincing. “It’s late.”
He grips his wrist tightly. “I know.”
Thankfully, he’s never needed to explain much to Akira. “Okay,” he says softly. “Ten more minutes?”
“Yeah.” He lets his eyes slide shut once more, letting out a breath. The world will keep spinning. His stomach will keep twisting. Time will keep marching on, but at least he has this. “Ten minutes sounds good.”
—
The first words that Futaba says as she enters the RV was: “Oh, hell.”
“Hello Futaba-chan, Yusuke-kun,” Haru greets cheerfully from the booth. “How was your shopping trip?”
“...Fine,” she replies, stepping aside to let him in, lugging a four-foot tall canvas in his arms that accidentally hits the ceiling. “Got a new Featherman action figure.”
“I got a canvas,” Yusuke answers from behind the wall of white. “Though I assume you can see that.”
“I can.” Her smile doesn’t falter, and it’s making the hair on Futaba’s nape rise like a nervous animal. “Quick question, since you both are here…”
Haru pulls a tote bag from underneath the table, and it’s so heavy that when she throws it on the table, her teacup nearly topples over. “Would you like to take a guess of what’s in this bag?”
A billion jokes pop into Futaba’s head, but both of them stay silent, terrified and confused. They both knew this was coming, but they didn’t expect her to be so forward about it.
“I suppose that’s a pretty strange question, I’m sorry. Let me try again.” She reaches in and pulls out thick, heavy textbooks, all brightly coloured and consist of beaming, diverse students on the front cover. “Care to tell me why you were both looking at cram books while we’re on our fun roadtrip?”
Yusuke pushes Futaba aside, eyes on the books and wide with shock. “You bought them?!” he exclaims.
“Wait—” Futaba hops repeatedly, trying to catch a glimpse from over his shoulder. “You bought all of them?”
“Of course.”
“But why?”
She thinks about it for a moment. “Hmm, think about it this way. If Akira’s in charge of the group as a whole, and Makoto’s in charge of the more analytical aspect of things, think of me as a somewhat stern yet loving parent who doesn’t quite know how to mind their own business.”
“I thought that was Ann’s job,” Futaba mutters, heart hammering in her chest.
“Now,” Haru leans forward, and as if to prove her role, speaks in a gentle tone. “I’m not mad at you. That would be ridiculous. But I saw you two looking at these books, and I know how expensive they can be, so I’ll give them to you.”
She blinks. “You would?”
“Absolutely!” Haru smiles wide. “On the condition that you tell me why you need them.”
Futaba and Yusuke exchange a glance, before Futaba makes a T with her hands. “Timeout!” she yells, dragging Yusuke by the collar out of the RV.
“What do we do?” he whispers once the door is shut. “It’s not as if we can tell her.”
“I don’t know, maybe we should?” she pushes up her glasses. “Damn, the things money can buy you. Our vow of silence is getting thrown out the window for two handfuls of yen.”
He looks her dead in the eyes. “I would tell the world my deepest secrets if it meant having lifetime access to a grocery store.”
“Don’t say that, you sellout!”
“I’m not selling out. My art already reveals the deepest portion of my soul, it’s not my fault that the common observers cannot pick up what I’m putting down.” He squints against the setting sun. “She’s waiting. What do we do?”
“Okay, okay, okay, just let me—” her mind whirrs rapidly, and for a second she really feels like Sophia. “Give me a second.”
“I have a suggestion,” he points at her. “If we’re not averse to lying, let’s tell them that you need them for school. You’re struggling with academics, you need a bit of outside help, so we took a look at the textbooks.”
“Good idea! Wait.” She frowns. “They’ll never buy it. Let’s say that you need them.”
“I’m at the top of my class!”
“But they don’t know that!” She balls her fists together, determined. “Okay, let’s do this.”
“I didn’t say yes to this.”
Futaba kicks the door open, making Haru pause wiping her spilt drink mid-stroke. “Inari’s struggling with his classes!”
“I—“ Yusuke stammers. “Yes,” he confirms. “I’m struggling with my classes. They’re mighty indeed, and even I find them difficult. I am...struggling.”
Haru looks at them doubtfully. “Yusuke is?”
“I am,” he answers as Futaba says, “He is.”
“Yusuke,” she repeats, gesturing to the neatly-stacked pile of textbooks on the table. “Is struggling with precalculus?”
They stare at her. “Yes,” Yusuke says, slowly. “I am struggling with previous calculus.”
“Out of curiosity, Yusuke,” Haru scratches her cheek. “Do you know what a parabola is?”
“Of course I do,” he replies with the wisdom of a thousand monks. “It’s a self-contradictory statement.”
“That’s a paradox,” Makoto corrects from the steering wheel.
“What the heck?” Futaba jumps a foot in the air. “Why are you here? Why were you hiding?”
“I like to sit here a few hours before we start another road trip,” she says, before glaring at them. “You two. Does this have to do with Ryuji?”
“T-timeout!”
Futaba makes a beeline to the door again, but Haru’s faster. She slips past them, standing in their way, perfect smile still in place. Sometimes Futaba forgets how strong she is in negotiations; her and Yusuke were probably tutorial levels compared to the upper management of Okumura Foods. “Answer her question, please.”
Yusuke sighs, tired. “You know what you’re asking for, don’t you? If we tell you what’s happening here, it would be breaking the trust of one of our teammates.”
“Yusuke!” Futaba hisses. “Are you really thinking about telling them? It’s not even our secret to tell.”
“No, it isn’t.” He makes eye contact with Makoto. “But she made a point. What would make us better friends: if we kept a secret to the grave while letting him suffer, or tell someone who can help even if it means being some sort of tattletale?”
“But…” she trails off, resolve crumbling. “Dude. It’s going to suck so much.”
“I know.” He pats her head, before moving to Ryuji’s backpack once more. “Don’t worry, I’m willing to take his anger if need be.” Yusuke gestures to the booth. “Everyone, take a seat. It’s about time this finally gets cleared up.”
Smoothing out the envelope in his hand, even more crumpled than when they had it last, he clears his throat, takes one last glance at Futaba to make sure. At her tentative nod, he begins to read its contents in a loud, clear voice.
When he finishes, they sit there, staring at the thick paper in silence.
“Oh my god,” Makoto breathes. “I knew it was bad, but—”
Haru shakes her head. “Not this bad. And he talked about it so much, but we didn’t even…” she glances down at the textbooks, idly rubbing its spine. “I didn’t think much of it.”
“None of us did,” Yusuke says. “But does that make it any better?”
They fall in silence again, but Futaba can hear the answer loud and clear. Hell no.
The door opens forcefully, pulling them out of their stupor.
“What’s up, my beloved friends!” Ann calls, shopping bags in tow. “God, I’m gonna miss Sapporo. Things here are so cheap compared to Tokyo, sheesh!” She sets them down, laughing when nobody says anything. “Jeez, what’s going on? Did I miss something?”
“Ann-chan,” Haru says carefully, all sense of cheer, for intimidation or otherwise, gone. “Take a seat. There’s something you should know.”
—
The Ferris wheel looms over them, blocking out most of the sunset behind it. “Nice,” Ryuji grins appreciatively. “I should’ve seen this one coming.”
“You should’ve,” Akira agrees, tugging him into the open carriage. He goes in willingly. “It was staring at you the whole time we’re in Sapporo. And besides, every romantic movie has a Ferris wheel scene, doesn’t it?”
“Oh yeah? Name one.”
“Death note.”
Ryuji makes a face, and Akira laughs. “Yeah, I know. Bad example.”
It’s a tight squeeze but they sit next to each other, ignoring the bench in front of them. The seats are hot, and even though it’s nearly evening, the heat barely eases up on them. Still, he finds himself pressing himself against Akira. He runs cold, much colder than Ryuji; narrow wrists are ice, prominent collarbones frost.
The two of them lean over the window, pointing out random scenery as if it were the first time they were seeing them. Restaurants, statues. Weird looking cars and flower beds. Decorated high rises and insects that fly by. It’s like they were tourists, or a retired couple who just want to travel the world. He’s never wanted to be old before, but Akira always has a way of making him change his mind.
Like clockwork—Ryuji makes a joke. Akira laughs. His heart feels lighter.
When he finds himself leaning against him, feet up on the bench, Akira wraps his arms around his shoulders unhesitatingly. Ryuji wonders if he can hear the way his heart thuds inside his bones. He wonders if he knows it's for him. The Ferris wheel stops, right at the very top, gently swaying like it were a giant cradle. They’re not very high up, but it’s far enough that he feels like he’s left the entire world behind.
Ryuji presses his lips against those wrists, relishing in the way he can feel the heartbeat increase. “You nervous?”
He can feel his head shake behind him. “I’m happy, I think,” Akira says in a hushed voice, like it was a secret, like it was a sin.
A breeze flows through, and Ryuji closes his eyes when lips press against just below his ear.
Would it be worth it to have a Palace? A Jail? Would it be worth it to lose himself, just to be in this moment for the rest of time?
Carefully, he flips himself sideways, just so he can press more of himself against Akira. The carriage rocks gently, and the metal bench underneath them is sharp and uncomfortable. Arms tighten around him. Chest to back, knee to knee, they couldn’t be closer, but Ryuji leans back, wanting nothing more than to bottle the rhythm of his breathing and the smell of his soap.
I’m happy, too, I think, he wants to say. If we stayed like this for the rest of our lives, until our skin is permanently tattooed into the hot steel and our bones are the only thing they take out of this bench because the rest of us had already rotted, then I’d be pretty damn happy.
Craning his neck backwards, Akira is already staring.
Then he’s kissing him—once, twice, again and again, and Ryuji realizes that something’s different. This wasn’t the kind of kiss he was used to. There was a desperate air to it, an urgent edge from both of them that neither was ready for. Stealing each other’s breath and giving it back; the cycle continues, the clock keeps ticking.
Ryuji pulls himself up, not breaking the kiss, cupping his cheek and soaking him in like a flower to the sun; an endless yearning, like he’d shrivel up and suffocate if it vanished. The sun framed Akira, and for a split second, he feels like he understands what Yusuke sees on a canvas.
When they part, foreheads leaning against each other, Ryuji lifts a trembling hand to wipe the tear that rolled down Akira’s cheek.
“What’s up?” he asks softly. “Is something wrong?”
“I feel like you’re a miracle, Ryuji.”
How do you respond to that? When the person who said it feels like they’re the one who’s magic, who’s too good to be true?
“Fuck miracles,” he says, pulling Akira in again.
—
The circuit felt like it ended too soon, but it’s night when they finally stepped off, holding hands and faces flushed. He hopes the ride operator doesn’t hate them, but he’s in too good of a mood to really complain.
Ryuji stops in his tracks when he sees who’s in front of them.
“Ann?” Akira questions, taken aback. Eyes dark and brows pulled close together, clutching her purse like a weapon of war—she looks like she’d just seen someone set an orphanage on fire.
Her voice is shockingly deep, gaze fixed on Ryuji. “I’m borrowing him for a second.”
Before either of them can say anything, Ann takes him by the bicep, and he can only glance at Akira before he’s dragged back into the Ferris wheel.
“Did you even pay—?”
“Don’t start,” she hisses, pushing him on the bench, hard. “Don’t you dare start, you damn liar.”
His blood runs cold. “What?”
No. That’s impossible.
“Don’t play dumb with me.” She shoves her hand in her bag and throws something rubber at him. “Do you know how long it took me to find a good one here? I spent my entire day in the shopping district—not looking for clothes, or shoes, or whatever the hell I thought would be fun. No, I spent our last day in Sapporo looking for that.”
Ryuji looks down at the hot compress in his hands, a lump in his throat.
“Because you weren’t doing anything to your knee,” she continues, jaw tight. “Despite me trying my best to help you get better. I thought that you must’ve been really fan-freaking-tastic at hiding the pain that you told me about. That I trusted was the truth because you’re one of my best friends and I trust you. I trust you with my life, my secrets—” Ann grits her teeth. “What the hell?”
“How did you find out?” he asks hoarsely.
She knows. If she knows, they could know. If they could know—
“Damn you, it doesn’t matter how I found out!” she throws her hands in the air, voice so hurt that it twists his insides impossibly tighter. “You think I would care? You think that this is important enough to lie to me about? Dammit, I don’t care that you—”
“Don’t say it,” he begs. “Please.”
“I don’t give a single shit that you failed second-year, Sakamoto!”
Her words ring against the steel walls, deafening.
Bile crawls up his esophagus, and he readies himself for another attack. But for some strange reason, his vision doesn’t blur. Instead, anger kicks in like it always does.
“You don’t care?” he asks, incredulous. “This doesn’t even have anything to do with you!”
“It does when you lie to me about it!” she yells back. “Do you not care about me? About your friends who would go to hell and back for you?”
“How dare you—!”
“You lied to me, you hid it from everyone else, you ignored our advice because it doesn’t mean shit to you.” She points a finger at him. “And look where that got you.”
“Shut up.”
“We all noticed, you know! Each and every one of us noticed that something was up, even the literal robot—”
“Shut the hell up, Ann.”
“And for what? All you accomplished was hurt our feelings, hold in yours, and keep it from the love of your life—”
Ryuji stands up, rocking the carriage and nearly toppling Ann off her feet.
“It’s because I fucking hate myself!”
She grips the barred window, eyes wide. They stare each other down for a few long moments, before the ride comes to an abrupt end. The door swings open, allowing a cheery greeting from the oblivious employee.
And then Ann sighs, shoulders deflating. “Come on,” she jerks her head to the door, before stepping out herself. “Let’s go.”
“What?” he asks, puzzled. “Where?”
“If we’re going to delve into the psyche of Sakamoto Ryuji, we might as well do it with some food in front of us.”
—
The cafe Ann takes him to is bright, filled with pastries and crowded with people—stools are pastel blue, baristas are wearing cute bowties, and each cup of coffee comes with an alarming amount of whipped cream on top. Sojiro would have a heart attack if he walked three kilometers of this place, but Ryuji’s glad that the resemblance is far and away than that of Leblanc.
The booth is pressed into the corner of it all; up against the window and far enough from the main bustle that they’d have to really put their all into it if they wanted to take their order. On one side sat Futaba, nervously tracing shapes on the window while Haru sits beside her. The opposite end has Yusuke and Makoto.
They all look up when they hear the bell chime, and Ryuji almost laughs. “It’s been a long ass time since I’ve seen you guys look so serious,” he remarks, sliding next to Makoto while Ann sits next to Haru. “Where’s the food at? Come on guys, food’s good for you.”
He raises a hand. “Excuse me! We’re ready!”
“Ryuji,” Futaba’s voice is brittle. “I—”
“Hold on shorty,” he reaches to pat her head, voice coming out soft. “We’ll get to that. I promise.”
A waiter comes, takes their drink order, and leaves. When he does, Yusuke places a heavy hand on the table. “I was the one who told everyone.”
“That’s not true!” Futaba cries out, and everyone jerks back in shock. “That’s bull! I’m the one who told him to go through your stuff ‘cause he was worried about you, but I’m the one who actually—”
“No, I’m the one at fault here,” Haru casts her gaze downwards. “It was really none of my business, but I forced these two to tell everyone here. I’m so sorry—”
Ryuji sighs. “Guys, it’s fine.” He’s met with an incredulous look. “Okay, it isn’t, but none of this is your fault, you know? I’m not mad.” His gaze shifts to Ann. “But you’re allowed to be mad at me. I know I shouldn’t have hidden it.”
She gives him a weighted look. “Then why did you do it?”
“Ann,” Makoto warns.
“No, I’m not budging on this.” She leans forward. “He lied to me. Lying doesn’t get you anywhere good. That was really stupid of you.”
“Ann!” Futaba cuts in, horrified.
“You’ve seen what happened with Shiho.” Ryuji flinches back like he’s been hit. He knows. Ann knows he knows. But she keeps going anyway. “She lied to me about what was happening, and I lied to her back. It kept going and going, and—” she snaps her fingers. “She’s gone from my life. For how long? I don’t know, maybe until we graduate. Maybe until her rehab ends. Maybe longer. Who knows? All I know is if we had just—talked, or—” Ann shakes her head, frustrated. “From the start. Tell us what happened. And afterwards, let us help you, or I swear to god I’m going to cry, and I know you can’t stand it when people cry.”
The silence is deafening, even with the clamor of people and voices around them.
Ryuji lets out a breath. “Yeah, alright.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You will?”
“I will,” he repeats, idly checking his pulse. Heart rate is a little quick, but in no danger of having another breakdown. “I’ll tell you everything.”
The waiter chooses that time to drop off their drinks; all cold except Haru, nursing a hot cup of tea. They definitely didn’t buy enough to justify the god-knows-how-long they’re going to spend here, but they’re just gonna have to suck it up.
“Alright,” he starts when they’re alone again. “We going from the start?”
“The very beginning,” Ann confirms.
With one last glance at his friends, he sighs, sits up straight, and flashes them the biggest grin he can muster:
“Hi,” he greets. “I’m Sakamoto Ryuji, and I failed my second-year of high school.”
No one’s expression shifts, not even an inch. He can’t help but be a little impressed. “You guys know that I’ve never been the greatest with books. Shit, screw greatest—I’ve ranked bottom five ever since I started middle school. Didn’t help that my leg got fucked to high heaven and everyone started hating me. Nearly dropped out a couple times. Had no one, really. Worst time in my life, hands down.
“So imagine this dumb little kid, middle of April, running into this guy.” Without meaning to, the grin shifts into something more genuine. “Good-looking dude, super smart, real charmer but you wouldn’t be able to tell just by lookin’ at him. And that guy saved my life. Ten, twenty, thirty times over. He was so great that the dumb kid obviously fell in love with him. But what’s even crazier is that the guy fell in love with the dumb little kid, too.
“Crazy, right? Sounds made up, but I promise it’s true.” He catches Futaba’s expression shift to exasperation. “I know, I can’t believe it either.”
“That’s not what I meant, you sap,” she says.
“Yeah, but that dumb little kid,” he explains. “Couldn’t believe it. Literally couldn’t believe it. Thinks that he struck the lottery, struck by damn lightning. I mean—” Ryuji laughs a little. “How can someone so amazing and cool be in love with such a moron? What made it worse…”
He gestures at all of them. “Was that the guy had so many people in his life who was also amazing. His social circle was made up of, and correct me if I’m wrong: a successful journalist, a politician, some dude from the mob, a random child who breaks gaming records on the daily, and I’m not even counting people from this goddamn table. So dumb little kid knows, he fucking knows that somehow, someway, he tricked the cool guy into falling in love with him. The kid sucked, no, sucks,” he corrects. “At everything. Can’t do anything worthwhile.”
“Ryuji…” Haru whispers.
“Almost done, I know it’s running on kinda long,” he promises. “So the dumb little kid became kinda obsessed with the group’s ‘activities’, and it’s obvious why he would, right? If he knows he’s not good enough for the guy he’s in love with, then he can at least try to be. But since he already sucked at school to begin with, dummy over here completely bailed on school and ended up flunking so bad that he failed an entire year.”
An entire year. An entire year.
It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe, but he’d rather get hit by a truck than lose it in front of so many people. Gritting his teeth, he does what he knows is bad, what every google search and YouTube video says you should not do—he pushes his feelings, far and hard away from himself, so far that it’s like it doesn’t even exist.
It works surprisingly well.
“And, uh—” Ryuji clears his throat. “He hid it. Because you know the one, single thing that’s worse than realizing you’re not good enough for the other person?”
No one answers. “Waiting for the day that they realize that you’re not good enough for them.”
“And that’s pretty much the bulk of it.” Reaching for his mug, he takes a sip of his lukewarm lemonade. Damn, he really did talk for a while. “I didn’t want to tell the rest of you because one, it’s really fucking embarrassing that I failed, and two—”
“Akira can’t know,” they all say in unison.
“Exactly, you guys get the point by now.” He drums his fingers against the table, trying to ignore the blatant gloom cast on all of their faces. “Question time starts now, if anyone wants to ask anything.”
Makoto opens her mouth, but he beats her to it. “If anyone even thinks about feeling pity, or be all ‘no, you’re smart actually!’, I am walking out of this cafe and I am not looking back.”
“What about summer school?” Makoto asks immediately. “If you didn’t want us to know, then you could’ve taken that without even telling us.”
“Summer school was never an option.”
“And why not?” she slaps her hand against the table. “It would’ve solved this entire situation!”
“Because Akira was coming home for the summer,” he says simply. “And I wanted to enjoy my time with him without this hanging over my head.”
Her jaw drops open. “But...that’s…”
“Stupid?” he offers. “Idiotic? Really dumb? Potentially throwing away my entire future? Yeah, I gotcha. Another part of it was that the thought of staying at Shujin for another minute makes me want to jump into traffic, if that helps make me look a little better in your mind, miss prez.”
Makoto’s expression of confusion freezes, taken aback by the harshness of his words. Ryuji cringes at himself. “Sorry.”
“No,” she says finally. “The fault is mine. I have no right to judge your actions, or to pretend I know what kind of stress is burdening you.” Hesitating, she asks, “May I request another question?”
“Shoot.”
“What were you going to do when we eventually go back to Tokyo?”
As expected of someone who went head-to-head against the ace detective in front of the entire school; her questions are brutal. “I don’t know, honestly. I was planning on ignoring the problem for now and just sort of,” he gestures vaguely. “Enjoy the summertime sun?”
“A moment,” Haru goes through her bag. “It’s a long story, but I have these—”
The second the books peek out of her tote, he recognizes the cover immediately. “Cram books? You bought some?”
“Yes!” she answers, mistaking his reaction for eagerness. “It’s a very small gesture, but I’d love for you to have them.”
“I—” he leans away from them, breath catching in his throat. “No.”
“No?” she blinks.
“Not now, senpai.” Trying out his new trick again, he forces his heart to slow down, forces his breathing to regulate again without any of the techniques, and forces himself not to feel any of the fear that he’d normally have to go through. It works, but barely. “I’m not—I don’t think I’m ready to deal with that yet.”
“That’s fine.” Haru puts them away, and as hard as he tries, he can still see how dejected she was. “I’ll hold on to them for you.”
“Thank you.” He glances around. “Any last takers? Q&A is almost up.”
“I have one,” Yusuke pipes up.
“Go for it.”
“How are you?” he asks genuinely.
Ryuji can’t help it—a laugh gets pulled out of him. “How am I?” he repeats.
“Yes. How are you?”
“Uh,” he laughs again. “Not good, man. Not good.”
Everyone startles when Ryuji stands abruptly. He slams down the rest of his lemonade, relieved at how it helps his parched throat. “Alrighty, that took a lot out of me! Let’s get out of here, I’m sick of being surrounded by fake coffee and poser cafe fanatics.”
“I’ll take care of the bill,” Haru says, following his lead and scooting out from the booth.
“What? No, come on. I don’t care how rich you are, at least let me pay half.”
“Ryuji.” She looks him dead in the eye. “I’ll take care of the bill.”
“...Yes ma’am.”
Slowly, they all start filing out, some exiting the cafe while Makoto goes to the till with Haru. Ryuji reaches for Ann’s elbow before she can leave. “Hey.”
Turning her head, it’s as if her lips were permanently stitched downwards. “Yeah?”
“I’m really sorry I lied to you,” he says, somber. “That was shitty, and it doesn’t matter what I’m going through—you can’t deal with lies. I get that. I won’t put you through that again.”
Ann kisses her palm before slapping it against his forehead. “You better not,” her voice drips in affection. “You said not to console you—”
“I did, and I meant it.”
“But I’m here for you,” she rubs his skin harder, and he winces at the chafing. “You know that, right? No matter how crazy the shit inside your head gets, I want you to talk to me.”
“I know it,” he says, not just because he wants the friction to ease up. “I know it now, for sure.”
“Good.” Ann releases him, and goes to join Haru and Makoto up front. “You might want to head out. Someone’s starting to make a fuss.”
“What?” he turns around, making direct eye contact with Futaba, nursing a blank expression on her face. “I see.”
The bell chimes once more when he steps out, relieved at the cool summer air that hits him. “Shorty,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “What’s good?”
“Here.” Ryuji glances down at her, who’s holding a familiar, now very-crumpled envelope between her fingers. It’s weird seeing her hold the letter announcing his failure like a bomb, but he understands the sentiment. “I had to show Ann because she wouldn’t believe me until I got some proof.”
“Thank you,” he says, shoving it in his pocket. “I’m not mad at you, you know.”
“I know you’re not.” She swallows and stares down at her shoes. Her laces were covered in little beads and stars, something he had bought for her during a weekend hangout once. “This isn’t me pitying you, or showering you with some kind of boohoo potion.”
She swallows again. “I failed my first year of high school. It was for a completely different reason—guilt for who I thought I killed rather than wanting to be something else. But I know. I know so much about what you’re going through.”
Futaba looks up, and his heart wrenches when he sees the tears in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry if I made you sad, or that I kept calling you stupid back then,” she sobs. “I don’t mean it, and I’m so mean to you all of the time but I don’t mean any of it. I told everyone your secret because I wanted to—” she hiccups, and she pushes her glasses to the top of her head. “I wanted to give you your own version of what the Phantom Thieves did for me, but I reached out to you guys back then. No one forced me to do anything, but I took that choice away from you.”
He pulls her in his arms, and her tears are hot even through his shirt. “I know, Futaba,” he says, patting her head. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
She hits his chest weakly. “Me taking care of you?” she sniffs. “I’m literally the one crying right now.”
“Just for now though,” he shrugs. “Next time I cry, you’ll be the one handing me tissues, I swear.”
They stand there, the two of them standing in the middle of Sapporo while people give them weird looks—Futaba, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks, and Ryuji, refusing to ever let his emotions make things worse for everyone else again.
—
When they get back to the RV, each of them emotionally exhausted, Ryuji goes to kiss the top of Akira’s head. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Akira looks up from his card game with Morgana and Sophia. “You look like you had a wild night. Ann take you all somewhere fun?”
“Totally,” he says, sliding the letter back in his backpack. “Best night ever.”
“Take me next time. Sophia’s kicking our ass.”
“She is not!” Morgana denies, tail swishing. “Just a little,” he relents.
“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” Ryuji announces, hiking his backpack on his shoulders and heading out, before running into Ann outside.
“Oh my god,” she says, disturbed. “He really, really doesn’t know.”
“Yup,” he moves past her. “And we’re keeping it that way.”
#p5#p5s#mine#fic tag#plainly in truth#ryuji sakamoto#akira kurusu#akiryu#pegoryu#ann takamaki#futaba sakura#persona 5#persona 5 strikers#chapter three! *thumbs up*
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Untitled Jurdan Shower Sex
This was a prompt ask that got deleted (for being flagged?) somehow, so here it is:
Can I get “I heard shower sex is dangerous, but right now I’m willing to take the risk” for jurdan? Like they end up in the mortal world and decide to Try New ThingsTM Also can you add my tfota blog (snusbandxknifewife) to your jurdan tag list? Thanks!
It’s common knowledge in the mortal world that all cats hate water. In fact, one of Vivi’s favorite activities is watching YouTube videos of cats being upset that they’re getting wet, falling into baths and hissing, etc.
But there is one cat in the mortal world who adores showers. He can’t get enough of them.
The first time Cardan experienced a shower, it was like a marvel to him. Faerie had no knowledge of the watery contraption – only baths – and Cardan was completely enamored with it.
Now, each time he visits the mortal world, it doesn’t matter how long they’re there, Cardan insists on showering. Vivi complains that her hot water bill has never been higher, but Jude reminds her that she doesn’t actually pay for anything, so it shouldn’t make a difference.
Today they are in the mortal world celebrating Vivi’s birthday. Cake was eaten, presents were opened, and Oak is long ago in bed. Now, Vivi has been pressured by Heather to start watching what Heather deems an “iconic” show for lesbians – something called Orange Is The New Black.
Jude doesn’t really want to watch. There are about a thousand other things she’d rather be doing, like her husband, for instance. But Vivi loves celebrating her birthday, and Jude isn’t released from celebrating until Vivi says she is. So the four of them curl up on the couch to watch the show.
Jude’s eyes widen. The show starts off with a bang. Literally. Two women, caressing each other, soaping each other down. In a shower. She can feel Cardan stiffen next to her. He leans forward slightly, as if taking notes, as the pair engage in their shower sex.
“Come on, that’s hot,” Heather says, nudging Vivi. Vivi narrows her cat-like eyes and shrugs.
“Unrealistic. Shower sex is way more dangerous than that.”
Cardan’s head whips around. “Dangerous? How?”
Vivi rolls her eyes. “Water and soap and sex? Way too much potential for injury.”
“I have very good reflexes,” Cardan comments nonchalantly as he leans back into the couch, and Jude snorts loudly.
When they finish the episode, Vivi finally releases them and wishes Jude and Cardan goodnight. She and Heather hurry off to bed, and Jude has a feeling they’ll both be sleeping in tomorrow.
“Shower?” Cardan says as Jude starts getting changed for bed.
“Sure, Cardan,” Jude says, used to her husband’s antics, shooing him off to take his shower.
“You misunderstand,” he says, clarifying. “I want you to join me.”
Jude turns to Cardan, who is staring at her with wide onyx eyes and wild hair, his lips pulled up into a wicked smile.
“I heard shower sex is dangerous,” he continues, stalking across the room to where Jude stands, dumbfounded. “But right now I’m willing to take the risk.”
Her arms hang limp at her side as Cardan leans down and kisses her neck softly. He pulls back, and Jude is unable to do anything but follow him as he beckons her down the hall and into the bathroom.
Cardan turns the shower on, and he pulls Jude against him as the room fills with steam. He pulls his shirt over his head, and Jude wastes no time running her hands over his lean torso. Her hands fumble with the button of his pants as he captures her lips again, the steam already making her hot and sticky with want. Cardan’s tail thwaps, agitated, as he struggles to remove her clothes from her body.
Jude steps out of her leggings, pulling away from Cardan for the moment, but as soon as she’s bare, his tail curls itself around her calf, tugging her closer. His hands splay across her back, pressing his bare skin against hers, and Jude shivers, goosebumps raising across her arms.
Cardan lifts her up, and Jude barely has time to think before he places them both under the warm stream of the shower. His chest rumbles in contentment as the water pelts over them, drenching them. Jude almost laughs at how happy he is in the shower. His coal black eyes dance with sin and dirty promises.
“We should get clean first,” Cardan explains, pouring some liquid soap into a loofah and turning back to Jude. He moves over each inch of her skin, leaving no part unsoaped. It’s not in the least bit sexy. Jude stands with her arms out, feeling like a soap monster, but Cardan stays focused. “Now, rinse,” Cardan says, putting Jude directly under the shower head. Jude closes her eyes and lets the water spill over her skin, but she gasps loudly as Cardan’s hands move from wiping the soap off her skin to running over her breasts and heading down her stomach, sliding between her thighs and playing with her folds.
“Cardan,” she moans, her eyes still closed. She moves her hips forward, hoping it’ll encourage Cardan’s dexterous fingers to move inside her, but instead they remain on her skin, gently teasing her. Cardan’s tail pushes her hips back, so she’s pinned to the shower wall. He kisses her lips aggressively, his tongue pushing through her teeth to caress the inside of her mouth. Jude’s hands tug Cardan’s hair. Dripping wet, it’s even longer than usual, and she’s able to wrap her fingers into it.
“Don’t move,” he says as he pulls back. Jude feels his tail push across her stomach, reminding her to stay put, as Cardan kisses his way down her wet chest, sloppily licking and sucking at her freshly cleaned skin. He crouches down, kneeling on the shower floor and looks up at her. His lips attach themselves to her thigh and work inward, and Jude can’t resist grabbing Cardan’s long dark hair in her hands.
He lifts one of her legs over her shoulders and swipes his tongue down her slit. Jude’s standing leg wobbles as pleasure rushes through her core. Cardan seems undeterred by her shaky leg and uses his hand against her hip to steady her. His tongue swipes back and forth as he drinks her in. As he finally inserts his fingers, Jude’s leg completely buckles. Cardan keeps her anchored against the wall and somehow pulls her other leg over her his other shoulder, so Jude is completely at the mercy of her husband, legs straddling his neck, and her back pressed up against the warm tiles of the shower wall.
“This is definitely dangerous,” Jude moans, but Cardan doesn’t stop his movements. In fact, he doubles down. His fingers curl inside her as his mouth sucks at her center. She knocks her head back and moans loudly, bucking her hips against his face, as a warm orgasm takes over her body, her legs twitching on top of Cardan’s shoulders. She feels his tail caress the bare skin of her shaking thigh as she comes down, and he moves his arm down, so her foot can slide down to stand again, one by one.
Jude melts against him as he stands again, kissing her hard and fast. She can taste herself on his lips, and she reaches down for his erection, but he moves out of her grasp.
“I told you I had fast reflexes,” he says with a smile, running his hands down her curved hips. Jude watches in amusement as her husband sits on the shower floor and sprawls out, legs extended and hands behind his head. He curls his finger at her, beckoning her to join him. Jude crouches down and crawls over him, letting her wet hair splatter his face as she kisses him.
“What are you doing, crazy?” she asks, and he smirks and runs his hands across her strong thighs.
“Your legs are too fatigued for standing shower sex,” he explains. “I refuse to put you in danger.”
“We could continue this in our comfortable, dry bed,” Jude suggests, but Cardan rebukes it, lining up his erection directly under her, and letting it press against her still sensitive center. Jude makes an unintelligible noise. Something between a moan and an okay and slides down onto him. She clenches down as he fills her completely. It still takes her by surprise, how much he fills her. How perfectly he fills her.
He flexes his hips into hers as his hands sink into the soft flesh of her sides. Despite the water cascading around them, Cardan never takes his eyes off his wife. He watches as her hips move up and down and back and forward, riding him exactly how she likes. It doesn’t take Jude long to come again, shouting out a string of curses as her body contracts on top of him. He thrusts harder and faster, letting himself go to the edge and spill into her with a final grunt.
Spent, Jude leans over him, kissing the wet skin of his neck and sucking it into her mouth.
“I think I love showers, too,” she admits, and Cardan laughs. Neither of them moves until the water runs cold.
~*~*~*~*~
my first tagged Jurdan one shot. lmk if you still want to continue to be tagged or if you’re like meh.
@hizqueen4life @wordsafterhours @cursebreaker29 @x3hopeless-dreamer @sarahjmaasslave @thewickedkings @aesthetics-11 @thewayshedreamed @studyforthestars99 @feed-the-madness01 @brit-alltoowell @gabs-2002 @m-like-magic1 @sophiekarim @the-third-me @babycardan @justfangirling @isardinesinacanblog @youknowpurple @snusbandxknifewife @youknowpurple @cosmosstarstudio @wannawriteyouabook @aneurwin @bookieworm @bamchickawowow @taco-taco-belle
#jurdan#jurdan smut#jude x cardan#jude duarte#cardan greenbriar#tfota#tfota fanfic#charincharge writes#jurdan fanfic
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Matured
Corpse Husband & Little Sister Reader (Female)
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: Sibling Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Corpse’s search for a roommate ends shortly after his little sister calls him, telling him she’s moving out of her high school dorm in the suburbs following her graduation to attend college in San Francisco.
Requested by @bugger2002 Hi darling! Thank you so much for this adorable request, I had such a fun time turning it into a fic! Sorry it has taken me so long to complete it but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤
Alright, it’s been a month since Y/N announced she’d be moving in with me - no, she didn’t ask if she could nor if I’d want her to, she straight up casually informed me she’d be moving in with me since she’s starting college. I’m lucky she even thought to tell me, knowing her it wouldn’t have been so strange for her to just show up on my doorstep with a grin like “Alright, I live here now.” Having a six years younger sister who can act both younger and older than me - sometimes both at the same time - is a bit complex. Obviously, my protective and nurturing brotherly instinct kicks in whenever she complains to me about something, but seconds later she tells me she’s taken care of it already and I feel like a fool for overreacting even if it was only internal. She’s calm and rational when she needs to be and a reckless airhead whose only goal is to have fun when she wants to be.
And judging by her and her friends’ main methods of obtaining said fun I can see how much alike we are: playing drunk video games, drunk darts, drunk pool. You see, there’s a lot of drinking involved and that’s something I’m greatly unhappy with and have scolded her on countless times just to get a fake promise, probably with fingers crossed behind her back - that she’ll cut down the alcohol. Not to mention she’s not even old enough to drink so I’ve been very insistent on her cutting her bad habit. She’s tried calling me hypocritical at times but she can’t do so rightfully since I’m, you know, of drinking age. So she’s basically bound by law to follow my advice and orders.
At least now that she’ll be staying with me I’ll be able to keep a better eye on her. A rascal high school student will either mature-up in college or go even more downhill. I aim to make her fall in the first category, but I’m making no promises - she’s very unruly, just like me. Damn, never did I think my own traits would come hitting me in the back of the head like a boomerang but here we are.
Regardless of all the crap I’ve just spewed about her, she’s a wonderful girl. She’s always been my pillar of support and never gets tired of it. She never misses a call of mine and has never not replied to a message of mine, no matter how drunk she’s been. She’s never skipped a Saturday night Skype call, no matter how busy she’s been. She’s never let herself forget she has a brother who often times needs her by his side.
Once she even talked one of her friends who has a car and a driver’s license drive her all the way to my apartment complex when I was having a really bad anxiety attack and legit couldn’t talk on the phone. She went door to door to find which apartment I live in and stayed with me the whole weekend she was supposed to spend at a music festival or something. It’s not wonder she’ll be a med student - she’s always wanted to be a nurse and has practically been my personal nurse since she was twelve. She maybe wasn’t always physically present to help me, but she’s a great instruction giver for when I need her and she’s unable to come to my aid.
Well now, we’ll both be there to aid one another.
“BEEP BEEP FUCKER!“
I nearly flip off my chair at the distinct yelling coming from directly below my window. I’d recognize that voice anywhere, and it’d always bring a smile to my face without fail.
I rush to get up from my desk chair and open the window but when I do so, she’s no longer on the sidewalk. There’s only a car I recognize to be the one of the friend that drove her here during that nightmarish episode I explained earlier.
Before I can ever back away from the window, I hear my front door swing open and a yell echo from down the hall, “Corpse! How many times do I need to tell you to lock your door, damn it!”
“The same amount of times I’ve had to tell you to cut down on the al- WHOA!“ She doesn’t let me finish the sentence and jumps me the second I step out in the hallway.
“Missed you, stupid!“ She says, her legs wrapped around my waist as she ruffles my hair, “I’ll trim your hair later. Why have you let it get so long?“ She questions, furrowing her brows at me while running both her hands through my mess of a hair - she has a point, I’ve let it get out of control. While doing so, she seems to get an idea all of a sudden so she quickly climbs down, reminding me of the huge height difference we have now that her feet are on the floor. “I know you two have met before, but I think you need to re-meet...“ she says, turning to look at her friend who’s smiling timidly at her. She sends the flustered girl a wink before turning back to look at me, “Corpse, I’d like you to meet Abbey, my girlfriend“ she says proudly, skipping over to the blue haired girl and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Y/N pushes up on her tiptoes and places a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. It’s adorable to see her shorter than yet another person she clearly adores to annoy.
I smile at the two girls, holding back a chuckle as to not embarrass Abbey more, “Well then, nice to meet you Abbey. You should know you are one strong soul to be putting up with all that.“ I purposely don’t look at Y/N as I motion towards her, earning me a pissed off “Hey!“ as a response to my remark, “Stick around for dinner, don’t worry neither of us will be cooking.“ I point at myself and then at Y/N as if to reassure her she won’t be a victim of food poisoning.
“Actually...“ Abbey says, tilting her head to look my shortie sister in the eyes as if taunting her to say something.
She finally caves, raising her left hand as though she’s volunteering, “Ugh fine, I may or may not have taken a cooking course and may or may not know how to cook a decent meal. It’s whatever, really.”
To say I’m impressed would be an understatement. I’m impressed, shocked, surprised and flooded with joy that my sister has finally decided to start maturing. “Cooking course, huh? When did you decide living off of takeout isn’t a nice way to live?”
She rolls her eyes at me, “Oh no I still go full weeks with only takeout and cereal, I just needed a distraction because...well...” she trails off, her gaze dropping awkwardly as she fishes for words or perhaps already has them found but doesn’t want to spit them out.
Abbey huffs, taking Y/N’s hand and lifting it to show off her wrist where I catch sight of a batch of colorful handmade bracelets, “Because these aren’t gonna earn themselves.”
I raise an eyebrow, puzzled as to what exactly she’s referring to.
Y/N sighs, taking one of the bracelets, playing with it nervously, “I have one for every month I’ve spent without getting drunk - Abbey made them for me. I need a distraction to stay sober so...I took up cooking.“
I can’t remember a moment I haven’t felt proud of my sister. Y/N’s always been on top of her shit, drunk or sober she knows what she’s doing. She’s mindful even when she’s reckless, thinks soberly even when she’s been drinking heavily. She’s always proved herself to me and to the people who think of her as a lowlife without even trying. She lets the world breeze by her without thinking too much of it and yet she still mesmerizes me and many of the people she meets - Abbey has now officially joined the club.
But, all things said and considered, I think I’ve never felt as proud of her as I do right now, seeing those six bracelets on her wrist - half a year without getting drunk. I know she wouldn’t lie to Abbey, she rarely lies to me too, so those bracelets have been earned and well-deserved and that makes me feel like the Y/N I remember is not the one standing in front of me right now. That silly girl is still in the suburbs, making a shitty-ass choice of messing up her liver. A grown woman, a responsible adult has taken her place though, and I couldn’t be more glad.
“Y/N...“ I finally manage to utter her name, making her gaze meet mine, “I’m so fucking proud of you.“
A smile slowly stretches the corners of her mouth upwards, her eyes shning in a way that has nothing to do with the lighting in this hallway. She’s not a crier though, I know those tears are gonna stay right there, stubbornly refusing to escape her eyes, “Thanks, Corpse. I’m proud of you too....” she says, nodding her head slowly, “I can overlook the untrimmed hair.”
Sigh
Y/N will always be Y/N no matter what I guess. That’s a good thing - I love her just the way she is.
@maat-the-prescriptive @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @itsminniekat @hacker-ghost @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis @waterlilypat @idontknowwhatthisisfam @evi-ka @classyandfabulous00 @redperson58 @lilysdaydreams @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite @axen-gers @luckygirl144 @nj01 @buddyemily @the-albino-lioness @stardream14 @gdhdkfnn @nomadicgypsyy @preciousskye @fluffysuicideunicornsworld @o-kaelin @manacharlotte @awkward-youtube-trash @lolalee24 @bonky-beerns @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @strawbrinkofdeath @teenloves @tams0527 @browneyespinkhair @starstruckllamapuppy @daisychains012 @y0ulooked @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life @jula-pauline @melodykitty @just-that-bi-girl @crazybutconfidentaf @lowellshade @alphakees @bellero @weallneednamjesus @starryhanji @boiled-onionrings @husherstan @fockingwhore @melaningoddessthings @prettypastelpetals @haleypearce @godwhyamiawkward @y-napotat @daisychainyoonmin @little-miss-rebel3 @free-wheelin-bi-sexual @redmoon261 @darkacademic2 @wiseflamingoqueen @into-the-end @namikhai-i @nastiablr @thelittleplantlover @mirktuan @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny @vintagegothlover @easygoingtheatre @itsrandombooklover @miiaivi @emmybaybee @befourgolden @jjk-is-my-shit @eternalteaaars @spacebadgerx @princesslunalight @acequinn14 @samm48 @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa @fo-love @marishimomura-blog @therealglenncoco @cinnamonbun332 @killtherandomness @sanshinexxxsan @fee-btheweeb @press-lay @cathleenpotgieter16 @jazzydoesstuff @moonlxghtbay @forestrain2000 @hyunjinhugs @blood-of-fandoms @lovellylies @ukiyolixx @simpforhpcharacters @chrisdylan17 @parkerjisung @pedernille @theodonyous @wineandionysus @malfoystilinskii05 @morbid-x @coryisagee @jessewa26 @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365 @raeanneinwonderland @indecisive-empanada @gluttonypalace @loriane2503 @btsiguess-kpop @khaoticbunny @lucidlycactus @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @kpopgirlbtssvt @fangirl-tc27 @fr0z3n-1 @notmesimpingfortechno @shotarosleftpinky @kunoi-chan @idk-whats-wrong-with-me @yikeroonie @goldenstarofthunderclan @poetry-and-tea @ama-do-writing-stuff @wishbonewolf @emeraldxhope @t0xick1tty @kusuinko @speakyourselfloveyourself @sophia902103 @lo-manburg @classsykittykat @dmgama @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee @btsiguess-kpop @akaashi-baby @gun-jong-simp @geschichtenfee @yerapotato-wp @browneyedgirl365 @thysagclub @sparklycloudnight @helloatomicshadow @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal @lucy-bunny17 @aaliyahh0 @katluckybear @boyleanti @straybids @franchesca-791 @cosmicstorm19 @averyisbackinthetrashcan @aomi-nabi @xlanawriter @allensimpsforcorpse @sunnyrae-cessh @ladykxxx08 @meowiemari @renupf @booklover76 @sra-verissimo
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Simon asks his boyfriend's brother to go ghost hunting with him for his youtube show after Clary ends up getting sick the day of the investigation. Cue non-believer Alec Lightwood and believer Simon Lewis going to a abandoned hospital to look for ghosts.
That’s the Spirit (Read on AO3)
Simon can’t believe it. “What am I doing to do?” He sighs, collapsing dramatically onto the sofa in Jace’s apartment. Jace lives with his brother, Alec, who is also home but pointedly ignoring Simon’s presence the way he usually does when Simon shows up, which is pretty often these days.
“Of all the days to get sick… and I know it isn’t her fault. Obviously, Clary doesn’t want to have the flu, but it took me ages to get the permit to go to this site. It was going to be my biggest episode yet, I know it!”
“Can’t you just do it alone?” Jace asks. “Or reschedule?”
Simon only shakes his head and sighs again, much more dramatically this time, as if the situation becomes more tragic by the second. “No, and no. There has to be a dynamic, a back-and-forth to the investigation. No one wants to just watch me wander around the dark and ramble for an hour,” Simon points out.
“He’s got a point there,” Alec chimes in, and Simon frowns.
“Harsh,” Simon says, but Alec doesn’t look particularly apologetic. “Plus, you don’t just show up to abandoned buildings alone at night, Jace. That’s how you get yourself killed.”
“Then you could be a ghost on someone else’s show,” Alec suggests.
Simon ignores him and continues. “Anyway, the construction on the building is set to start tomorrow night. This is the last chance to go. For anyone. Forever.”
Simon could cry if he weren’t sitting in Jace’s living room. Okay, maybe he has cried in Jace’s living room before, but for now, it’s enough of a deterrent to pretend to hold himself together.
“Sorry, Si,” Jace says. “If I could find someone to cover last-minute for me I’d do it, but…” he shrugs helplessly. Jace is a bartender, so weekend nights are too busy to bail on without notice.
“I know you would,” Simon reassures him, but the frown never leaves his face. There has to be something he can do, someone he can ask… Simon’s eyes drift to Alec, but he says nothing. Alec hates him. Alec hates everyone other than his siblings and Magnus, to be fair, but he especially doesn’t like Simon. There’s no way he can ask him.
Jace follows Simon’s gaze and gets a devious glint in his eyes.
“If only,” Jace says, looking very pointedly at Alec. “There was someone here, who didn’t have work tonight, or any assignments due tomorrow because it’s the weekend, and a boyfriend who is out of town so he definitely doesn’t have a date lined up, and no social life to speak of so he wouldn’t have any plans he’d have to cancel, and-”
It takes Alec an embarrassingly long time to pick up on the fact that Jace is speaking not only to him but about him.
“No,” Alec says, shaking his head.
“Why not?” Jace asks.
“Because it’s stupid. There’s no such thing as ghosts, and the whole thing is a waste of time,” Alec says.
“That’d be the perfect dynamic for the video! The grumpy skeptic and the excitable believer!” Simon points out. “I’ll even let you poke fun at it on camera if you want.”
“No,” Alec repeats.
“...not even if I take dish duty for the next week?” Jace offers. They split the chores in the apartment evenly and rotate, but Simon knows how much Alec complains because Jace makes 90% of the dishes with his shakes and smoothies.
Alec raises an eyebrow. “How about the next month?”
“Two and a half weeks,” Jace counters.
Alec looks at Simon, then back at Jace, and closes his book with a sigh. “Deal.”
---
“I can’t believe I let you two talk me into this,” Alec mutters, taking the gear Simon hands him.
“You won’t regret it,” Simon swears, beaming. “And seriously, I owe you one. Or two. Or twenty. I’ve been looking forward to this night for months, seriously, this means so-”
“Save the rambling for the camera,” Alec says, and Simon clamps his mouth shut.
The building they have access to is an abandoned hospital that has a ridiculously high amount of recorded paranormal encounters. The owner greets them a few hours before sunset to let them in and show them around, and Simon pulls out his camera to record some of the history the woman gives them.
“She’s not a ghost,” Alec says as if this is something Simon might not know. “Why are you recording her?”
“Because the people watching later will want to know some of the history,” Simon starts to explain, then frowns. “Have you never watched any of my videos?”
Alec shrugs. “I have to watch you get overexcited about things all the time in person. Why would I watch it online in my free time?”
Simon opens his mouth to say something but shuts it again, reminding himself that he needs Alec to at least humor him tonight, and he might not do that if Simon picks a fight.
“Right,” Simon says instead. “So it goes like this: we get some backstory from Ms. Loss, then we set up some equipment, we explore floor by floor the rest of the night until we go to sleep in room 502.”
Simon expects Alec to argue at least one part of that, but he just shrugs noncommittally. “Sure.”
“Anyway, Ms. Loss. Can you tell me more about the nurse people report seeing on the second floor...:”
---
“Okay,” Simon starts. “So I’m going to put the camera there, and we’re going to record a little opening bit. You don’t have to say anything.”
“Perfect,” Alec says. “I like this already.”
Simon clears his throat and looks into the camera. “This week, we’re exploring The Institute as part of my ongoing investigation to answer the question: are ghosts real?”
Simon sees movement from Alec and looks over to catch Alec mouthing the word ‘No’ exaggeratedly at the camera while shaking his head.
Simon sighs, wondering if he might not have been better off just going alone after all. By some small miracle, he manages to record the rest of the opening without distraction.
By the time they have the motion sensors set up with cameras on them and a few voice recorders placed around the rooms with the most reported activity, the sun is nearly set. Usually, Clary helps Simon with positioning the equipment, but since Alec doesn’t know what to do with any of it the process took a bit longer than expected.
“Ready?” Simon asks, taking a deep breath as he shuts the door to the van and turns to face the building.
“As I’ll ever be,” Alec confirms, following Simon inside.
“Alright. Tonight we’re inside The Institute for what will be the building’s final night before demolition begins tomorrow. I don’t know about you, but if I knew my home was about to be destroyed, I’d probably be pretty upset. Are there any spirits here who have anything to say about the construction?”
There’s a few seconds of silence, broken almost immediately by Alec.
“How long do we stand here listening to nothing?” Alec asks.
Simon sighs. “You don’t know if it’s nothing until we play the tapes back! You can’t always hear it in person. But generally speaking more than 2 seconds.”
Alec winces. “Sorry.”
“No, you know what, this is good. To any spirits who might be here, I’m Simon, and this is Alec. Alec doesn’t believe you exist, so any proof you can give us tonight to show him he’s wrong would be great. We have a few motion sensors you can set off, cameras you can manifest in front of, or you can make a noise, or touch us-” “Touch us?” Alec repeats.
“What? If you don’t believe in ghosts then nothing actually exists to touch you, right?” Simon says. He can’t help the hint of a challenge behind his words.
Alec clears his throat. “Right. I don’t, so whatever. Yeah, come at me, ghosts! Touch away!”
Simon hadn’t expected him to go that far with it. “Alright, tone it down Rocky, we don’t want to upset them.”
“But I thought you wanted-” “There has to be a balance. Encouraging, not antagonizing,” Simon clarifies.
“I didn’t realize there’d be so many rules,” Alec says, rolling his eyes. Simon can’t see the motion in the dark, but he can practically feel it.
“Don’t worry. You’ll learn,” Simon says, meaning to sound encouraging. “You’ll be a pro at this in no time.”
“I’d rather not,” Alec mumbles as they set off again.
They make it out of the main entryway and into the first hallway before Simon slows. His whole body is tense as he swings his light around to catch graffiti warning people away, dark corridors lined with cobwebs, and what looks like a noose hanging from a rafter in a bit of exposed ceiling.
“Fuck,” Simon says, and even that single word held a significant tremor.
“It looks like something out of The Conjuring,” Alec points out.
“I don’t like this at all,” Simon says. “I have a terrible feeling looking at this.”
Alec hums. “I have bad news for you then,” he says. “Because I’m pretty sure literally every part of the building is going to look like this.”
Simon watches a goddamn smirk tug at Alec’s lips. How is he so calm about this? How is he not even the least bit on edge?! Simon was counting on Alec getting at least a little freaked out once they were here so he could swoop in and be The Professional with all sorts of ‘it’s fine, I do this all the time’ and ‘this is business as usual, buddy’ comments to make himself look cool.
Instead, Alec looks worried, but not for himself - he looks worried for Simon.
“You okay over there?” Alec asks, as a gust of wind from outside makes something creak above them and sends Simon half a foot into the air in surprise.
“I’m fine,” Simon manages. “I’m the professional,” he mumbles to himself, starting off down the first dark hallway.
---
“So,” Simon says, regaining his composure enough to narrate for the camera again. “We’re inside a building adjacent to the main hospital where the ‘Body Chute’ is-”
“Sounds fun,” Alec mutters, not entirely under his breath.
“-which is a 500-foot long tunnel they used to dispose of the bodies where the other patients wouldn’t see.”
“I’m so glad we have a tuberculosis vaccine now,” Alec says, just as they get to a gated door that Simon pushes open and-
“Oh my god, this is awful,” Simon says the moment his light goes down the very long, very dark, very horrifying looking hallway.
“Now this looks like a nightmare,” Alec admits.
“No, no, no, no. No way...” Simon says but stops when Alec has the audacity to chuckle from behind him at Simon’s reaction.
“I don’t think I realized how long 500 feet is,” Alec says conversationally, stepping ahead of Simon to go down the tunnel. Simon knows going to the end of the tunnel is the plan - it’s where they brought every dead body, if there are spirits anywhere there are spirits at the end of this tunnel, but… man, he does not want to go down there.
It feels like they walk forever, eventually hitting stairs that go down even further until they reach a spot blocked off by some kind of hanging plastic sheet. Simon, in an effort to both save face and also regain control, peels back the corner only to scream like a small child and run backward when a ‘whoosh’ noise passes him.
“Was that wind?” Alec asks.
“I don’t know,” Simon says. “But I’m not doing that again.”
“Hey, I have an idea,” Alec says suddenly. “How about you stay down here, and I’ll go to the top of the stairs, and we can shut our lights off and sit in the dark and see if we get anything from either end of this death chute?”
“...how about you go fuck yourself,” Simon replies, a knee-jerk reaction he knows he’ll have to edit out later. “But that’s actually not a terrible idea,” he admits very, very grudgingly. Alec wastes no time going back the way they came, and once he’s in place they shut off both sets of flashlights.
“I’m going to die here,” Simon laments to his camera in the dark, his voice echoing up to Alec who laughs again.
“Don’t worry, Jace would kill me if I let you die here,” Alec reassures him. “Now shut up.”
“You shut up,” Simon mumbles, but to himself this time. If it’s loud enough for Alec to pick up he doesn’t say anything back.
Simon holds his breath in the dark, listening for any sign that something might be down here with him when he hears Alec’s voice sound from the top of the stairs.
“Did you hear that?” Alec asks. Simon shouldn’t be as pleased as he is to hear an edge to the question, turning his light back on and taking the excuse to get the hell out of there and back up to where Alec is.
“No,” Simon admits. “What was it?”
Alec shrugs. “I dunno, just a… weird noise. Probably nothing, but I guess we’ll hear it on the tapes if it wasn’t.”
“That’s the spirit!” Simon says, thrilled to see Alec catching on to the routine. Then he pauses, and laughs. “Hah. That’s the spirit. Get it?”
Alec definitely gets it, but he doesn’t look particularly happy about it.
They head back up to the morgue. As one of the more active areas, Simon has pretty high hopes for it.
“Feel anything strange? Anything unsettling?” Simon asks Alec, turning the camera on him.
Alec looks around the room, tapping on an autopsy drawer and doing a full 360-degree turn. “I feel kinda cold? That’s a ghost thing, right? But it’s also just… cold in here in general, isn’t it? It isn’t like there’s heat, it’s pretty drafty.”
“How about you lay on the autopsy table?” Simon suggests.
Alec looks at it dubiously but agrees, shifting his gear in his hands so he can carefully lay on the metal table, his legs too long and dangling over the edge.
“If there’s anything in here, maybe someone who once laid where Alec is right now, can you talk to us? Tell us your name?” Simon asks into the room, then waits.
Alec moves his feet back and forth over the edge.
“Isn’t this the part in the horror movie where the demon reaches out from under me and grabs my foot? Anything out there want to grab my foot?” Alec asks, and Simon has to give him credit for at least trying with what little, clichéd knowledge he has.
“There aren’t demons here,” Simon tells him. “I don’t mess with demons.”
Alec swings his legs over the side of the table and gets down again.
“Pity. Now demon hunting is something I could get behind,” Alec says.
Simon furrows his brows and doesn’t bother hiding his exasperation as he says, “What is wrong with you?”
---
“Alright, so here is the elevator shaft where a homeless man and his dog reportedly fell down, or were pushed down, and died,” Simon explains as they get to the next active area. “People say they’ve seen both the man and the dog, separately, on multiple occasions.”
They reach the door to the elevator shaft which has a square hole where a window would probably be but isn’t anymore. Simon holds his voice recorder up to the window.
“If there’s an older man here who fell down this elevator shaft, please make a noise,” Simon says.
Silence.
“In a shocking turn of events, no noise,” Alec says. “Put your arm in more, it won’t record anything out here if he is in there.”
Simon moves his arm imperceptibly closer before immediately pulling it back. “No, nuh-uh, I do not like that. What if he grabs my hand while it’s in there?”
“...then you have proof of a ghost?” Alec asks. “Why is that a bad thing?”
“And if I say I feel something you aren’t going to believe me anyway,” Simon says.
“Sure I will,” Alec promises.
Simon hesitates, then puts his arm through the hole in the door to the middle of his forearm. Okay, he thinks, this is fine. This is-
Simon lets out a shrill noise and snaps his arm back within seconds.
“What?” Alec asks.
“It felt like something breathed on my hand,” Simon says, aware that his voice is shaking. In fact, now that he has his arm pulled back safe and sound against his chest, he’s vaguely aware that all of him is shaking.
“You mean like the wind?” Alec dismisses.
“See, I told you. I told you you’d do this and not believe me,” Simon glares at him. “Not like the wind. Like someone blew on my hand.”
Alec must decide to take pity on Simon and cut him a break before he has a meltdown because he drops the wind thing.
“Alright. The ghost of a homeless guy blew on your hand. So if he’s there we should ask him more questions, right?” Alec points out. Simon suddenly regrets wishing Alec would play along.
“Right,” Simon agrees, taking several deep breaths as he inches his way forward to put his arm through the window again, just not as far this time. His grip on the recorder is so tight his fingers start to go numb. Simon can’t bring himself to ask any more questions, still shaken up, so Alec takes the lead.
“So, if you’re the homeless guy who fell and died here… or were pushed… you must be pretty pissed, right? I mean, if someone pushed you, I bet you’d love to push someone back as revenge, wouldn’t you-”
Simon pulls his hand back immediately. “Are you trying to get us killed?” Simon whispers. “Alright, we’re done here. Goodbye, Mr. Homeless man. Please don’t follow us and push us.”
---
The fourth floor is the one that Simon is the most excited for. There are reports of multiple full-bodied apparitions, a little boy who likes to play with a ball, nurses, and just shadowy figures in general.
“Why are all of these hallways so long?” Simon asks. They stay at one end this time, lights trained down the hall, motion censors set up at the other end where the most movement is reported. They’ve been at this for about 20 minutes now, asking questions, trying to get flashlights to turn on and off, but so far all they got were a few inconclusive readings that leave Simon on edge and Alec consistently denying proof of anything.
That’s when Simon sees the shadow.
“Oh my god did you see that,” Simon says, his voice barely above a whisper, his body rigid.
Alec’s silence is answer enough.
“Of course you didn’t,” Simon mutters. “There, at the end of the hallway, there was a shadow…”
Simon watches Alec look more intently down the hallway. “Let’s go down there, then. Might as well throw a little shadow hunting in with the ghost hunting.”
They do, but nothing seems out of place and the motion sensor they set up hasn’t been activated.
“I think your eyes are just playing tricks on you. We’ve been staring into the dark for half an hour now. Eventually, you’re going to start seeing things. Your mind wants to see things.”
“I guess…” Simon agrees. “I’ll have to check the camera later, see if it picked anything up.”
“What if we throw the ball for the ghost kid?” Alec suggests. “That’s this hallway, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Simon acknowledges, reaching into his bag to pull out a blue ball. “Which doesn’t make me feel better about the shadow, to be honest.”
This hallway, much like all the others, has walls full of graffiti and chipping paint. Mentally, Simon reminds himself to look into some nice, modern haunted hotels or something for his next video. Clearing his throat he tries to focus back on the task at hand.
“I brought a blue bouncy ball with me,” Simon says into the darkness of the hallway. “We heard you like to play ball. We’d love it if you played with us!”
Simon gives it a gentle toss down the center of the hallway, listening as it bounces until the echoes fall silent. Simon frowns. Those bounces didn’t sound right. They were irregular, and-
“Did that sound like it… stopped, then started again?” Alec asks, sounding reluctant to admit he heard anything strange at all.
“Yes!” Simon exclaims, finally glad that Alec heard something he did. “Like someone stopped it, then dropped it again!”
“You’re not going to roll it back to Simon?” Alec asks into the darkness, but there’s nothing except still air and silence. Alec sighs. “Guess we should go find it, right?”
They both go down the hallway, flashlights trained on the ground in front of them, occasionally sweeping off to the side to glance down a few side hallways and empty rooms until Simon’s light lands on the blue ball. It’s resting on the floor down a small side hallway to the left of the main one.
“Found it, over--- no way. Oh no.” Simon’s light moves up to some graffiti on the wall directly in front of where the ball stopped - graffiti that says ‘Simon’. “What are the chances… how did it even roll this way? What the- no. No, no, no.”
“Simon… the ball did roll to you. They know you,” Alec says, clearly taking joy from the existential crisis Simon’s having and making sure to film every moment of it. His eyes are wide, heartbeat racing as he paces back and forth along the small, graffitied side hallway.
“Shut up, Alec. Just… you know this is weird. First the shadow, now this? You have to admit this is weird,” Simon practically begs, needing Alec to take this seriously for at least a second because he’s freaking the fuck out right now.
“You know you have to do it again, for comparison,” Alec says, and Simon wants to snap that of course he does, he’s the one who told Alec that if something strange happens you have to try and repeat it to see if it has a reasonable explanation. Like maybe there’s a dip in the floor and the ball always goes this way. Simon really hopes there’s a dip in the floor.
“Right. Yeah, okay,” Simon says, picking up the ball and heading back to the start of the hallway again. Simon repeats the action, careful to stand in the same place and throw it with the same force.
Instead of filming down the hallway, Alec’s camera is trained on him. “I’ve never seen anyone look so upset to throw a ball before,” Alec says, laughing lightly.
“Yeah, well, it isn’t your name the ball stopped at,” Simon points out.
“Maybe it will be this time!” Alec offers, but when they find the ball again it’s in the dead center of the main hallway.
“See, that’s where it should’ve landed the first time,” Simon insists.
“So you think it was pushed the other way last time?” Alec asks.
“Don’t you? First the shadow, then the ball moving, on the floor people repeatedly see a kid playing with a ball?” Simon can’t believe Alec is still denying this.
Alec shrugs. “I’m going to need a little more than some air in a drafty elevator shaft and a ball that rolled weird to believe ghosts are following us.”
Well, Simon thinks with another sigh, at least he’s honest.
They move on to one of the rooms a nurse is often seen in, each taking a chair in the center and putting motion sensors by the two doors into the room.
Simon asks a few standard questions, but he can’t keep his focus. His flashlight flits around the room unsteadily.
“You don’t like this room, do you?” Alec asks. For once he doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of Simon, but genuinely curious.
“No,” Simon admits. “I feel… off, in here. It’s unsettling. I’m not getting any responses, why don’t you try?”
“Alright,” Alec agrees. “Is there anyone in here with us? Or anyone nearby who would like to join us? We-”
“Alec,” Simon says, pointing behind where Alec’s sitting and Alec turns to see the light of the sensor going off.
“Looks like we got ourselves a ghost!” Alec exclaims. “Finally. Okay, uh, if you’re in the room with us, can you go to the other door and set off that sensor?”
Simon, surprised to find Alec taking charge while he freezes in his seat, holds his breath. The other sensor flickers, just barely, but it does.
“Thank you,” Alec says. “We have this… recorder if there’s anything you want to say. Maybe to the people you tried to save? Or to us? Do you like us here? Because we’re spending the night, so if you don’t like that, now’s the time to tell us to go.”
Alec seems properly energized by the sudden activity and Simon’s equal parts glad to see him finally getting a little more into it, and slightly horrified by the way he seems determined to turn any spirits in this building against them.
Unfortunately, the lights don’t go off again after that, and they don’t hear anything in the room.
“I wasn’t going to use the spirit box, but… now I kind of want to,” Simon admits.
“Spirit box?” Alec asks. “Is this like Ghostbusters where you try and trap the ghost in a box?”
“What? No,” Simon says, bringing out the small electronic device. “It searches through any nearby radio frequencies really fast, and spirits can tap into the white noise to form words for us, like a name, or to answer questions.”
“How scientifically accurate is this?” Alec asks skeptically.
“Debatable,” Simon says. “But I’ve gotten some cool results from it before, so… let’s give it a try. Oh, fair warning, it’s really loud.”
Simon turns the spirit box on and Alec visibly flinches back, covering both ears at the sudden noise in the otherwise silent room.
“You weren’t kidding,” Alec says after his ears adjust a bit to the loud static and shifting noises from the frequency changes, and he brings his hands back down.
“Alright. I’ll ask again - if you’re in here with us, and have anything you want to say, you can… use this box, I guess, to talk to us. Sorry, it seems a little gimmicky, but you weren’t talking before, so-”
“It isn’t a gimmick,” Simon cuts in, getting himself back in control enough to cut off Alec before he can antagonize the spirit further. “Can you tell us your name?”
The spirit box continues to make white noise until there’s a break, and he hears, very clearly, the word “spaghetti”.
They’re both silent for a moment, processing the word.
Then Alec bursts into laughter. “Maybe it’s hungry,” he says, barely managing the words between bursts of laughter.
Simon turns the box off. “Alright, let’s just move on.”
“Are you sure? We haven’t heard from Lasagna or Pizza yet,” Alec says.
Simon does his best to ignore him.
---
Upon reaching the balcony-esque landing of the roof attached to room 502, Simon leans over the ledge, just the tiniest bit to look down.
“Careful,” Alec says from behind him. “Wouldn’t want the homeless guy and his dog to push you now.”
Simon swears he feels a cold wisp of air at the nape of his neck that makes the hairs there stand on edge, but he refuses to admit that out loud.
“Ha-ha,” Simon says instead, though he does move back quickly. They have sleeping bags to set up to spend the rest of the night in the room behind them. Ms. Loss told them earlier that strange deaths occurred more than once in this room, and that others who stayed in it heard kids giggling and had things hit their tents throughout the night. The fact that they only have sleeping bags doesn’t make Simon feel great, but, as always, Alec hardly seems bothered.
“Goodnight, Spaghetti,” Alec calls into the dark once their flashlights are off.
At least he’s enjoying himself now, Simon thinks, which is a step up from the start of this whole thing. Simon doesn’t believe that Alec hates him half as much as he pretends to…
At least, that’s what Simon thinks until he wakes up an hour later to the feeling of something gently prodding his face. Only someone who hates you would wake you up in the middle of the night in a haunted hospital by touching you. Simon tries not to give him the satisfaction of reacting, attempting to pretend he’s still asleep, but after it happens a few more times Simon finally rolls over to tell him to stop.
“Seriously, dude, just-” Simon starts, except Alec isn’t anywhere near him. In fact, he’s several feet away, arms inside his sleeping bag, completely asleep.
Now Simon reacts, grabbing the flashlight next to him and spinning wildly in a circle, trying to catch sight of something, anything, that would explain what he just felt.
“What are you doing?” Alec grumbles, woken up by the sudden light that Simon accidentally shined in Alec’s face a few times during his repeated scans of the room.
“Something was touching my face. I thought it was you until I looked over and you were completely asleep. There’s nothing up here I can see, but I swear to God, something touched my face.”
“Go back to bed, Simon,” Alec mumbles, rolling over.
Simon could laugh at the suggestion, his heartbeat racing so fast he knows it’ll take at least an hour to calm down enough to consider sleeping again, not that Simon intends on even considering it.
Between the ghost touches and the fact that Alec’s snores fill the room within minutes, Simon knows he’s in for a long night.
---
Simon has never been more relieved to see the first rays of sunlight creep in through the window and immediately shakes Alec awake.
“We made it. We’re done. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Alec takes in the bags under Simon’s eyes. “...did you ever fall back asleep?”
“What do you think?” Simon replies with a yawn. “Also, you could’ve warned me that you snore.”
“I do not snore,” Alec insists.
“The video I set up in case that ghost came back says otherwise,” Simon smirks, and Alec just glares.
It doesn’t take long to gather the few things they have with them, but Simon keeps his camera out for the walk back down to his van.
“Last chance, ghosts! Any last words? This is your moment!” Simon calls into the halls, which are a lot less horrifying in the daylight.
“Last chance to shove Simon down the stairs, you wimps!” Alec adds, and Simon turns to level him with a glare that loses a lot of its fire when his eyes nearly close from exhaustion instead of narrowing menacingly.
“Simon Lewis 1, haunted hospital ghosts, 0!” Simon calls out triumphantly the moment he hits that final stair.
“So, Alec, before we leave, do you think this place is haunted?” Simon asks, shifting the camera over to Alec.
“No,” Alec says, and Simon’s face only falls for a second before he shifts the camera back to himself.
“Well, I think it is,” Simon says. “I guess our viewers will just have to make up their own minds.”
After one last sweep of the outside of the building, Simon shuts the camera off, and his entire body seems to relax.
“Congratulations, you survived!” Simon says, grinning at Alec. “I might have you do a few voice-over things, maybe a bit of commentary, if you don’t mind. But other than that, it’s just me and my editing now.”
“Cool,” Alec says, taking his bag and handing it back to Simon to put away in the van.
“Thanks again for doing this,” Simon tells him. “I know you were doing it for Jace, not for me, but I still appreciate it.”
“It ended up not being so bad,” Alec admits. “And I know I give you a hard time, but I don’t hate you. Anyone as good for Jace as you are is alright in my book.”
Simon beams. “Really?”
“Don’t tell Jace I said that, though. Then I won’t get two weeks of dishes out of him the next time you need a stand-in,” Alec says.
Simon only smiles wider at that. “Next time?!”
Alec seems to realize his mistake a moment too late. Simon takes the win and decides not to press his luck by pushing the subject.
“For now, how about breakfast on me? I’m starving,” Simon offers. After being stuck with him all night Simon isn’t sure Alec will agree. He’s pleasantly surprised to see Alec already nodding. “Taki’s? They have surprisingly good coffee.”
“Sure,” Alec agrees. “Think your spirit box can tell me if I should have pancakes or waffles? It’s a bit early for spaghetti…”
#simon lewis#alec lightwood#shadowhunters#jace herondale#silec brotp#LISTEN I DIDN'T MEAN FOR THIS TO BE SO LONG#but these two are just too much fun to write together in any scenario#so here we are and I hope you like it!!#elle writes a few deadbeat lines#long post#skylar102#ask rune#elle talks too much
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First of all, love your writing 💞 Second of all, if you are still taking asks (I saw a post where you mentioned it but idk), can you please write about virgil (I'm sorry he is just,,, so easy to project onto) being abused at home and the other sides find out about and confront him or something? Thanks 💕
Always taking asks and prompts <3 And lmao I literally named myself after Virgil, I’ll never complain about writing him and I’ll always understand being able to project the most onto him
I hope you don’t mind me doing the high school au! If you’d prefer a different setting, feel free to send another ask <3
Also thank you! You’re really sweet <3
Trigger warning: This au follows Virgil dealing with parental abuse.
More tws for: Scratches, bruises, underage drinking, yelling, passive aggression, manipulation from unsympathetic character
Logan:
It was a few months since Logan and Virgil finished their project together. Virgil expected to be slowly phased out of the group since he was no longer useful, but they didn’t seem to have those intentions. In fact, he was invited around more than ever, which... Surprised him, to say the least.
He stared at the sky as they walked. The sun was just barely starting towards the horizon, and a flock of birds flew overhead. His feet urged him to break off from Logan, to head towards his own home, but he ignored it. Roman and Remus had invited everyone over after school. Had invited him over.
“Virgil?”
He brought his gaze to Logan, looking at him questioningly.
“Isn’t it a little hot?” He nodded to Virgil’s thick hoodie. “I know some of the classrooms can be cold, but you’re sweating. I wouldn’t want you to overheat- It’s still a long walk.”
His face heated up and he looked away. “It’s not too bad,” he mumbled.
His wrist still ached from his mom’s hand clamped down as she dragged down the stairs the night before. It had been popping all day, and he knew the bruise had darkened over time.
Logan frowned deeply. “I don’t want to press, but... It’s really not safe.”
Virgil hesitated. Logan would be suspicious anyway if he didn’t, right? Why overheat at the same time?
He kept his gaze stubbornly forward as he shrugged his jacket off and threw it over his arm. Logan’s eyes trailed down the claw marks on his arm, to the purple and black ring around his wrist.
He raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a cat?”
“No. Why?”
Why didn’t you lie?
“It doesn’t look like those have been treated. When we get to the brothers’, do you mind?”
Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. “I don’t mind.”
Roman:
Patton fussed over Virgil’s arm when they got to the house, but Logan brushed him away and got Virgil fixed up. Afterwards, Virgil put his jacket back on, and it wasn’t mentioned again.
Close to two a.m., Remus staggered to his feet and flicked the t.v off. “Alright, everyone staying the night, come with me, the rest of you fuck off.”
Roman huffed. “Just because you got yourself drunk and can’t stay awake anymore doesn’t mean the rest of us need to crash early.”
Remus booped Roman’s nose. “You’d regret waking me up.”
He grinned. “If you pass out, I will be drawing on you. I’ve got the Sharpies ready.”
Janus rolled his eyes. “You will not, because if you wake me up-”
Roman smiled. “I’ll stay away.”
Remus pointed at Janus. “Aha! So you will be staying with me!”
He leaned in, but Janus covered Remus’ mouth. “Brush your teeth first.”
“I think I’m going to head out,” Patton giggled. “You know how my parents are.”
“Yeah, I have two tests tomorrow.” Logan downed the rest of his hard lemonade and tossed it in the trash. “Pat, I can walk you home.”
Remus fell into Janus’ lap and whistled. He grunted as Janus shoved him off.
“Virgil?” Roman looked to him. “Staying or going?”
He swallowed. “Uh, I can- I can stay, if that’s alright.”
Roman stood and shooed Janus off the couch. “You can sleep out here, if you want. Assuming Janus has made up his mind.”
Janus pointed at Roman with his free hand as Remus led him into his room. “Keep your fucking Sharpies to yourself.”
“Goodnight, guys!” Patton called as he followed Logan up the basement stairs.
“The couch shouldn’t be too uncomfortable, but if you need anything, you remember where my room is, right? Upstairs, it’s the one closest to the kitchen.”
Virgil nodded. “I remember.”
“Cool. Night, Virgil.”
“Night.”
Roman turned off the basement light as he left, swallowing Virgil in darkness. He settled back, pulled the blankets to his chin, and stared at the ceiling.
There were cracks in the ceiling. Muffled giggling floated through Remus’ closed door, the intro to one of the Saw movies playing quietly. His eyes watered, his chest tight.
What would his parents say when he got back? When would Virgil go home? He jumped at any chance the others gave him to stay the night. Sometimes he went weeks without going home. Sometimes his parents didn’t care, gave him a grunt of a greeting and told him of the leftovers in the fridge. Sometimes they yelled. Sometimes Virgil walked away with more bruises. He’d never be able to predict them.
He woke with a start, eyes wide. He blinked frantically as the room came back into focus. He fumbled for his phone and squinted at the bright light.
4:09 a.m.
He sighed and flopped back. Another movie played in Remus’ room, but their giggling and talking had stopped.
Exhaustion pulled Virgil’s eyes shut. He fell halfway into sleep before launching upright, scrambling to turn on his phone’s flashlight.
He tried several more times falling asleep, even a few with his flashlight still on, but each time he got close, his body insisted he wasn’t safe. He had resigned himself to staying that way through the night when the basement door opened, the light flicked on, and Roman came downstairs with his phone and a worried frown.
“Virgil?”
His heart hammered. “Shit, did I wake you up? I’m sorry-”
Roman shook his head and sat on the couch as Virgil folded his legs close. “No, I was awake. Remus texted me. What’s wrong, is the couch too uncomfortable?”
“No, I- It’s fine. I’m sorry, I...” He laughed a little, pushing his bangs back. “You didn’t need to come down here. I’m fine.”
Roman stared at him as he thought, eyebrows pinched. After an agonizing minute, he said, “If you can’t fall asleep, you can come with me. I’m just watching YouTube.”
He hesitated. “I don’t want to bother you.”
Roman shrugged. “I’m bored anyway.” He stood and gestured for Virgil to follow. “Come on.”
Virgil scrambled to follow, his footsteps silent. Virgil understood why he didn’t originally invite anyone to crash with him-- His bed was tiny. Still, he patted the spot beside him and allowed Virgil to cram in next to him.
He handed Virgil his T.V. remote. “You like those scary videos, right? The, uh... Like, the ‘real’ ones?”
“Nuke’s Top 10,” Virgil mumbled, thumb hesitating over the buttons. “What do you want to watch?”
“I’m good with whatever. All my usuals are boring right now.”
Virgil’s brain moved sluggishly before he thought ‘fuck it’ and put on one of the newer videos, before settling into bed. Roman pressed in behind him and rested his chin on Virgil’s shoulder.
Virgil fell asleep quickly. Roman’s warmth seeped into his back. He smelled like spices.
He startled awake around 5am.
“Virgil?” Roman grabbed his hips to keep him from falling off the bed, voice heavy with sleep. “Virgil, what’s wrong?”
Virgil gripped Roman’s hands as he fought to catch his breath. “I’m fine,” he panted. “I’m sorry, go back to sleep.”
“Nightmares?” Roman lazily ran a hand up and down Virgil’s arm as he settled down. “We didn’t have to put on those scary videos, you know.”
He shook his head. “That’s not why.”
Roman was silent for a while, to the point Virgil thought he’d fallen back asleep. Then he asked, “Are you safe?”
Virgil blinked. “What?”
“Are you safe?” He squeezed Virgil’s arm, below the scratches. “We’re not going to get an announcement about you during homeroom later this year, right?”
Virgil rolled his eyes and sighed. “Of course not,” he whispered. “I’m fine.”
He paused. “Alright. My parents won’t ever care if you need to stay here for a while. Just so you know.”
“I’m safe.” He pocketed that away for later.
Patton:
Patton gasped as Virgil walked into homeroom. He jumped out of his seat and ran over to take Virgil’s uninjured hand, leading him to their desks.
“What happened?” He stared at Virgil’s cast in horror.
“It’s not a big deal,” Virgil insisted. “It’s just a few fingers, they’ll heal.”
Patton grabbed his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Virgil. What happened?”
His eyes clouded with panic. He stumbled over his words for a minute before spitting out, “I- I accidentally shut them in the door, it’s fine.”
“Virgil... This isn’t like you. You’re not clumsy, you’re not...” He looked at Virgil with sad eyes. “Are you lying to me?”
Virgil wet his lips. “No. It was just an accident. Please don’t make a big deal out of it? Please?”
Patton rested a hand on the side of his face. Virgil leaned into his touch. “Sweetie, I... I need to make sure you’re okay. How do I know this isn’t just going to happen again?”
“It won’t,” he promised. “It won’t. I already fixed the problem, okay? It won’t happen again.”
Patton hesitated. “Okay.”
Remus and Janus:
“This is a stupid idea,” Janus grumbled as Remus dragged him down the sidewalk.
“Listen, everyone is freaking out, I think it’d calm them down to get some answers.”
“It’s fucking cold,” he complained.
Remus sighed and shrugged off his jacket. He held it out. “Better?”
Janus hid a smile as he pulled it on. “Yeah.”
Feeling a little stupid, Janus followed Remus’ lead and crouched as they got to Virgil’s house. They pressed themselves against the wall under one of the big windows.
“How long are we going to be doing this?” Janus whispered after a few minutes of nothing.
Remus shrugged and pulled a book out of his backpack. Janus gave him a flat look.
“You’re kidding.”
Remus raised an eyebrow. “What, you expected something to miraculously happen the second we arrived? We barge down the doors, carry Virgil out fireman style, and live happily ever after?”
“Of course not,” he hissed, “but what about-”
Remus pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Please?”
Janus’ face turned red. He wrapped the jacket tighter around him with a glare towards the road. “Fine.”
They sat in silence for hours. Remus read his book and Janus curled into his side, largely getting in the way but stopping his complaining.
“VIRGIL!”
They jumped, Janus’ heart lodging itself in his throat.
“VIRGIL, WHERE ARE YOU?!”
“Follow me,” Remus whispered.
Janus was too terrified to move, but he was more scared to be left alone, so he scrambled after as Remus circled to the back of the house. They situated themselves under the open kitchen window.
“I’m here,” Virgil said breathlessly. “I’m here.”
“Took you long enough,” a man sighed. “Why isn’t this emptied?”
A pause.
“Sorry, I’ll do that now.” The dishwasher creaked open.
“It should have been done hours ago.” The man’s voice was cheerful, upbeat. Janus’ skin crawled. “What happened to that?”
“It- It wasn’t done when I got home from school. I’m sorry, I forgot.”
“You forgot.” The man chuckled. “And if we just forgot to make dinner for a few nights? To pay our rent a few months? Would that be okay?”
Virgil didn’t answer.
“Of course it wouldn’t!” The man snapped. “We all have shit to do, Virgil, and they have to get done.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Virgil’s voice was quiet, resigned.
“I wouldn’t have to fucking remind you all the time if you knew. What do we have to do to get it through your head? Your mother and I, we work so hard, and you can’t even unload the fucking dishwasher?”
“I’m sorry, I forgot.” Virgil’s voice came out thick, dishes clacking together quietly. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”
“This house is a fucking mess. Looks like you forgot to sweep, too. Do I even want to look in the bathrooms? What have you been doing?”
“I’m sorry, I was working on homework-”
“DON’T LIE TO ME!”
Virgil sniffled. Remus gripped Janus’ hand hard enough to bruise.
“I’m sorry, I’ll get it all done, I promise.”
“Tonight,” the man snapped. “Before dinner, in fact.”
Janus frowned deeply. It was already close to eight.
“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have a problem with that?”
“Wh- No, no, I-”
“You wanna make that face again? Like a little toddler? When are you going to grow up, Virgil?”
Virgil started to answer, then cried out as something shattered. He gasped, grass crunching under a shoe.
The man’s voice came out low, so close to the window it took everything Janus had not to sprint away. “Clean this up. Don’t get blood on the carpet. Do your chores, and go to bed. I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day.”
Janus peeked up at Remus as footsteps stormed away. Remus’ vicious glare only hardened as Virgil’s soft sobs drifted out the window.
xxx
His friends were quiet. It put Virgil on edge.
They were once again piled together in the brothers’ basement. Janus, instead of how he usually pretended to hate Remus- Something Virgil didn’t understand and didn’t think he ever would -sat curled up in Remus’ lap, ignoring the others stares as Remus ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his back. Patton was more touchy with Virgil than usual, more gentle. Like Virgil was a shattered plate held together with tape.
“Okay.” Roman shut off the T.V. “I can’t do this anymore. Virgil, we need to talk.”
He bristled. They’re sick of you. He pulled his hoodie on and shoved his phone in his pocket. He nodded, ready to leave.
“Remus and Janus overheard something,” Patton said, resting a hand on his knee. “You can’t lie to us and say they aren’t hurting you anymore.”
Virgil’s eyes widened. “Wh- What?”
“Your dad,” Janus mumbled, “last night. With the dishwasher.”
Fear washed over Virgil hard enough for sweat to bead on his forehead, stomach rolling with nausea. “He was having a bad night. It’s fine.”
“Virgil, this should have gotten stitches,” Patton said softly, one hand tapping close to the bandaid on Virgil’s hand.
“And no good dad does that on a ‘bad night,’“ Remus snapped.
“Remus,” Roman sighed. “Not helping.”
Patton’s eyes filled with tears. “We just want to make sure you’re safe.”
“That you survive until graduation,” Logan pointed out.
“You can trust us,” Patton insisted. “Please, you can be honest.”
Virgil’s bottom lip wobbled as he leaned into Patton’s side. Patton guided Virgil’s head to his shoulder and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Roman hurried over to cuddle into his other side.
“We know there’s not much we can do right now,” Janus said quietly, eyes on the ground. Remus kissed the side of his head, “but we can’t do anything if you don’t... Talk to us.”
“I know.” Virgil sniffled and buried his face in Patton’s shoulder. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Yeah,” Roman whispered. “Yeah, we can put on another movie. Or- Logan, can you set up the Xbox? We can play something for a little bit.”
The six of them rotated through multiplayer games on the Xbox. Patton insisted on being Virgil’s partner each time, and when they waited their turn, he kept an arm around Virgil’s waist. He cuddled into Patton’s side, occasionally letting his eyes fall shut and his mind zone out.
Everyone stayed over in the brothers’ basement that night, crammed on the couch and piled on top of each other. The next day, things largely went back to normal, until after school where everyone jumped to invite Virgil over.
He laughed. “I can’t be four places at once.”
“I call him!” Patton kissed Virgil’s cheek and hugged him. “Try again tomorrow.”
Virgil blushed as Remus whined about Patton not being fair, Roman smacking the back of his head.
Virgil followed them all as they headed to Patton’s house, laughing and talking over each other. Virgil was pressed between Patton and Logan.
Virgil peeked at Logan from under his bangs while everyone was distracted. “Thank you.”
Logan smiled. “My pleasure.”
#high school au#logan#roman#patton#virgil#janus#remus#logan sanders#roman sanders#patton sanders#virgil sanders#janus sanders#remus sanders#sympathetic deceit#sympathetic remus#abuse tw#abuse mention#yelling tw#manipulation tw#lmk if i missed anything
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