#anyway I should probably officially go to sleep

[lloydfrontera]

i will always find the relationship between javier and the fronteras endlessly fascinating and compelling especially because of the way it's shaped by the required narrative of the original novel versus what we see of them as people through the plot of tged. let me explain.

the thing about javier is that. he's not. a person when we first meet him. he's supposed to be a character. he's just about to go through his tragic backstory so he can then go on to be the hero of 'the knight of blood and iron'. this is what javier is. all his life before that is really nothing more than a footnote. the fronteras themselves are nothing more than extras that die in the very beginning of his story.

and this shapes the way their relationship is meant to be like. because they need to strike the right balance of them being close enough where it's justified for javier to be so loyal to arcos that he refuses to take any master after his death but not so close that javier feels the responsibility or has the authority to take over the estate after their deaths or even remain there at all to help in any way he can. for the sake of the narrative javier isn't allowed to really be a part of the frontera family despite being basically raised by them, because that would interfere with the plot destiny has set up for him.

and if that were it, that would be fine, no one would really pay that much attention to it because why would they. the only things that matters is that they kept javier alive, they were close to him in some regard and now they're dead. that's all that was needed from them for tkobai.

but then. lloyd happens. and he immediately derails the plot and saves the fronteras from death and javier from having to become an errant knight and now everyone is alive and free to continue their own lives and then we get to know arcos and marbella, not as just tragic extras of javier's story but as actual people with their own thoughts and feelings and. what we get to know about them doesn't quite track with their previous actions.

the arcos and marbella we get to know in tged?? they basically adopt lloyd as their son. lloyd. an adult stranger who replaced their son, kept the truth from them for years and who then came back looking nothing like their own kid. and they still love him and accept him as their child. by all accounts they straight up give him their family name, centuries later he's still known as lloyd frontera and nothing else.

this is the kind of people they are. the kind of people who would welcome a stranger into their family because he's kind and good and he's trying his best.

but you mean to tell me that these are the same people who took in a five year old orphan into their home and then just. kept him around. not really being a part of their family. they just raised him for 15 years and then took his oath as a knight and that was it. they don't even call him by his name. he's always 'sir asrahan'.

it doesn't make sense!! that doesn't track with the kind of people they are in tged! except it totally does if you remember they were never meant to be more than just extras. they were never meant to be more than some kind people javier is very distraught to lose but not enough to fall apart for.

that being said. there are a couple explanations that could be given in universe to explain why javier was never made a frontera, despite being taken in by them.

one is that they simply weren't allowed to adopt him. like someone in the replies of this post mentioned, some countries could be pretty strict about who nobles were allowed to adopt. maybe in the magentano kingdom it's the same and the fronteras couldn't legally make javier their child and so could only take him in as a ward or something similar.

or maybe they didn't want to take away one of the very few things javier has left of his family. he was a really small child when his parents were killed, he once mentions he doesn't even really remember his father, just a memory of waiting up for him late at night and that's it. he never really speaks of them nor does he seem to have a deeper connection or longing for them. by the time we meet him, all he has left of them is his name really. maybe when they took him in neither arcos nor marbella wanted to take away one of javier's last remains of his family by making him take their name.

or perhaps they thought adopting javier would cause them more harm than good. after all. they did have a little bastard of a son who took offense at the very existence of javier, despite javier just being *checks notes* a five year old orphan they picked up from the streets so he wouldn't starve or freeze to death. can you imagine the nightmare it would've been if javier had actually been adopted and not just taken in. if og lloyd had not only been forced to share a home but also his own name with him. it wouldn't have been pretty! and the one to pay for it would've certainly been javier! so maybe they thought the risk was simply too high. maybe they thought not giving him their name was a price worth paying to keep the peace at their home.

or maybe they simply didn't think it was their place. maybe they didn't want to make javier uncomfortable or force him into a relationship with them that he didn't want. maybe they wanted to wait until the loss was a little less recent, until the pain had had time to settle into something more manageable and then they just. missed the timing. maybe by the time they realized it was already too late and walls had formed between them that they didn't know how to take down.

in any case i simply don't believe that arcos and marbella are the kind of people to take in a child, raise him his whole life and then just. not feel anything deeper than fondness for him. it doesn't make sense from what we actually get to see of them.

i don't think their relationship with javier is that of parents with a child, but i also don't think it's as distant as what it looks like at first glance. personally i think it must be a mix of,,, habit, formalities and the awkwardness of a missed opportunity hanging between them that doesn't let them be as close as they would otherwise be. like. they all wish they could be something more, they wish the distance was a little shorter, they wish the walls between them could come down but they simply aren't sure how to do that anymore. they don't know if they missed their one chance and this is all that's left.

i don't know!! i just!! it's fascinating to me and i think about it far too much for it to be healthy!! halp!!

[seventh-district]

.

[pjowasmy1stfandom]

(I am working on self-love btw, ty for the reminder)

Don't know the middle two (I grew up under a rock) but from the two I do know, uhh... I feel like there's probably some perfectionism going on, and wanting to impress/show off to other people to feel self-worth (u don't have to impress me, we are mutuals. I'm already impressed, go ahead and relax)

Making a tag game cause I can

Rules: post 4 fictional characters you relate to and assume something about the person you reblogged from based on their characters

No pressure tag! @sidneyoftheblackwoods @mqstermindswift @stars-and-birds @zenilvar @forever-chained-to-myself @themidnightarcher @skeelly @thepencilsnameissteve @thislove-taylorsversion @thislifeissweeterthanfiction @swiftieannah @a-pessimistic-swiftie @catastrxblues @jellycanon @what-about-wendy and anyone else who wants to join<3

[apatheticsunday]

Dead Tired College AU

AKA "Danny Fenton and Tim Drake go to college at Gotham-U together" headcanon!!

Maybe Danny moved to Gotham to avoid his parents finding out about Phantom and Tim is a part-time college student trying to get his business degree so people stop accusing Bruce Wayne of nepotism after Tim inherited WE. (It absolutely still is, but at least this way Tim is at least somewhat more qualified on paper.)

Anyways, they both took Anthropology as their humanities/pre-requisite elective and they're discussing death rituals, afterlife, etc. Now imagine Danny, officially Half-Dead, and Tim, who's brothers (Jason and Damian) literally died, getting into a heated discussion about spirits.

I also find the idea of them arguing via fucking Canvas (or whatever discussion forum/platform Gotham-U uses) so, so funny.

Imagine it's like 3am;

Danny, insomniac, been awake for 42 hours and popping melatonin gummies like gummy bears, furiously typing: i'm literally THE KING of infinite realms?? i know what i'm talking about, i fucking died

Tim, also been awake for 42 hours, chugging an energy drink, sending a response in 0.2 seconds: Half of Gotham has died at some point. You're not special, dumbass.

Give me "group of scientists losing their minds and climbing over the table to assault one another during scientific conference" vibes!!

And then they get paired up to do a group presentation (and Brad, who they ignore because they're both Experts, so this poor frat dude just slowly sinks into his chair between two sleep-deprived maniacs screaming at each other in the library). But Tim notices something weird about Danny, aside from his insane views on afterlife. Danny... glows? And sometimes doesn't really touch the floor when he walks. They're going to get coffee (so they can keep arguing debating, obviously, not because they enjoy each other's company or anything), and Tim watches as Danny just kind of... floats. Like, he's still walking but he's not really touching the ground.

Danny's hands are also super cold. Tim knows this because he grabbed Danny's hands once or twice (or more) to do... something, idk. But since his hands were so cold, Tim figured he should probably keep holding them; y'know, to warm them up.

And when Tim leans in to ask a question or insult him, Danny's breath comes out almost like a mist. Visibly white, like exhaling a hot breath in winter. Which... what. Holy shit, is his presentation partner actually sort of dead??

Danny, on the other hand, has no idea that Tim doesn't know. He literally said he died? And Tim took it so well, snarked back that he's not special - it was so nice to just feel normal. So he lets his guard down a bit. Maybe isn't as tangible, maybe is a bit more floaty, lets his body temperature drop enough to be comfortable. Doesn't put a whole lot of effort into making himself look so alive (because it's really tiring to pretend to be something you're not) when it's just him and Tim because Tim already knows, right?

They could be friends or they could be more! Whatever floats your boat.

But I could totally see Danny squinting at Tim holding his hand, remembering how Tim bought his favorite coffee, saved him a spot a the library, constantly texted him (because, c'mon, Tim is a bit obsessive and you don't think he'd be texting his new "friend ;)" every minute he has the chance?), and always leaned in super close to "ask a question"...and be like, are we flirting?? Oh, Hells, am I into him??

For plot reasons, Danny could be like, "I can't tell Tim I like him! What if I ruin our friendship? It'll be my secret."

And then, one day, Tim is like, "Hey, I know you're keeping something from me. I think I know what it is." And Danny's like ohshitohfuck. This cumulates into them saying, at the same time, I know you're a ghost and I have a crush on you.

Tim and Danny: *shocked Pikachu face*

Then, Danny's like, "I can't believe I have a crush on a fucking idiot."

[chrrybbmb]

NO ONE ELSE

STARRING ... BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER!M. YOONGI X READER

WORD COUNT ... 10.4K

SUMMARY ... yoongi doesn’t know what you want from him, but he knows he wants you.

NOTES/WARNINGS ... slight angst. smut (18+/MDNI). i needed these two to fuck so bad. making them official because they mean the world to me <33 taehyung flirting with reader. jealous!yoongi. basically-lovers-but-not-really to lovers. fingering, p in v sex, protected sex. if i forgot anything let me know.

playlist : still into you (paramore), snooze (sza), kiss me (sixpence none the richer), so american (olivia rodrigo), pink + white (frank ocean), still the one (shania twain), runaway (the corrs), kiss from a rose (seal), are you bored yet? (wallows), here with me (d4vd)

you wake up to the sound of yoongi’s alarm vibrating against the nightstand.

it’s early. too early. the sky outside is still a soft shade of orange, and the only reason you’re even awake is because yoongi, in his infinite wisdom, forgot to turn off his alarm before rolling out of bed to use the bathroom.

and now it’s going off, loud and persistent.

with a groan, you shove your face deeper into his pillow, blindly reaching out to slap at his phone until it stops.

silence. finally.

except, now you’re awake. and now you’re aware. of the lingering warmth beside you, the faint scent of his shampoo clinging to the pillowcase, the way his blanket is still wrapped around you, heavy and comforting.

yoongi’s bed is dangerously comfortable.

it always has been, which is probably why you keep ending up here, despite all the logical reasons why you shouldn’t.

there’s an unspoken understanding between you. whatever this is, whatever you’ve let it become, doesn’t get talked about. doesn’t get labeled. doesn’t change anything outside the walls of his room.

the bathroom door creaks open, and you barely lift your head as yoongi walks back in, hair a mess, hoodie slung loosely over his shoulders, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"your alarm is annoying," you mumble, voice heavy with sleep.

"your face is annoying," he mutters back, dropping onto the bed with zero grace, exhaling sharply when his head hits the pillow beside yours. for a second, neither of you move.

then, yoongi shifts, turning onto his side, gaze flicking over your face like he’s searching for something. he must find it, because his lips twitch, just slightly.

"go back to sleep," he murmurs, tugging the blanket higher over your shoulders.

it should be weird. it should be so weird. but it’s not, so you do.

next time you wake up, yoongi’s side of the bed is cold and empty, and his bedroom door is open.

the house is quiet, save for the faint sound of the tv murmuring from the living room. you stretch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, before finally dragging yourself out of bed, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders as you shuffle out into the hall.

yoongi’s mom is in the kitchen, flipping through a newspaper with a cup of tea in hand. she looks up when she hears you, barely fazed by the fact that you just crawled out of her son’s bedroom like it’s the most normal thing in the world because, at this point, it is.

“morning, sweetheart,” she hums, setting her mug down.

you blink, still half-asleep. “morning.”

her lips twitch slightly, and then she gives you the look.

the same knowing glance she’s been giving you for months now, the one that says you’re not as sneaky as you think you are but also i’ll let you keep pretending anyway.

heat creeps up the back of your neck, but you don’t acknowledge it, just tug the blanket tighter around yourself and step toward the fridge.

“yoongi up?” you ask, peering inside.

“mm,” she hums. “went out a while ago. said something about needing a new lighter.”

you roll your eyes, grabbing a carton of juice. of course. because god forbid he go a full twenty-four hours without replacing one of the dozen lighters he somehow loses in his own room.

you pour yourself a glass, avoiding his mom’s eyes, but you can feel her looking. assessing. thinking about whether or not she should say whatever’s sitting on the tip of her tongue.

and then, “just make sure you're using protection.”

you nearly choke on your juice. “what?”

she shrugs, oh-so-casual, turning a page in her newspaper. “just making sure.”

you gape at her. yoongi’s mom, the same woman who once scolded you and his sister for sneaking out at sixteen, now just casually suggesting that you and yoongi have been fucking each other in his room—which you've thought about, but in any which case is hardly any of her business.

before you can even think of a response, the front door swings open.

yoongi steps inside, looking obnoxiously unbothered, a fresh pack of cigarettes and a new lighter tucked between his fingers. he glances between you and his mom, brows furrowing slightly at your expression.

“what’s with you?”

you shake your head, gulping down the rest of your juice before setting the glass in the sink. “nothing.”

he narrows his eyes, clearly not believing you, but doesn’t push it. just tosses his lighter onto the counter and leans against it, watching as you continue standing there, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders, looking way too much like you belong here.

his mom, still smirking, picks up her tea again. “you kids hungry?”

yoongi shrugs. “i could eat.”

you exhale sharply, running a hand through your hair. “yeah. me too.”

his mom just hums, standing up and patting your cheek on the way to the stove.

yoongi steps up beside you soon after, close enough that you catch the faint scent of his shampoo, something fruity and familiar. he doesn’t say anything at first, just watches as you rinse out your glass, the weight of his gaze settling over you like a second blanket.

then an arm loops around your waist. it’s lazy, effortless. like it’s second nature to him now, the way he pulls you in, his fingers resting against the curve of your hip, thumb brushing slow, absentminded circles against your shirt.

you freeze, because his mom is still standing by the stove, very much aware and very much watching. yoongi doesn’t seem to care. instead, he dips his head, pressing a kiss to your temple, soft and fleeting, barely there at all.

he lingers for a second longer, like maybe he wants to say something. maybe he’s thinking about it. but then his mom clears her throat.

not pointedly, not in a hey get your hands off that girl kind of way, but in a so are you two finally gonna get your shit together, or? kind of way.

yoongi ignores her completely. just tugs you closer, resting his chin on top of your head, and sighs. “did you finish all the juice?”

“no,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “there’s more.”

“good,” he murmurs, and that’s it. no teasing, no biting remarks. just this. his voice low and steady, his fingers still tracing idle circles against your side, holding you there like it’s nothing. like it’s everything.

his mom watches for a moment longer, sipping her tea. then, with a shake of her head, she turns back to the stove, muttering something about how she didn’t sign up for this bullshit but is too old to care anymore.

you should pull away. you really, really should. instead, you lean into him just a little more.

yoongi hums against your hair, the sound deep and quiet. “heading to the skate park later,” he murmurs. “gonna meet up with the others.” his fingers tap lightly against your hip, a slow, absent rhythm. “wanna come?”

you’ve been struggling to make friends in his sister’s absence. it’s not like you haven’t been trying. you’ve put yourself out there, made conversation, said yes to plans. but whatever you had going on with yoongi weighed enough guilt on your shoulders to sink you.

because replacing your best friend wouldn’t make you feel any better. wouldn’t fix the fact that she wasn’t here anymore and you had whatever you had going on with her brother.

but then again, if you had other friends, maybe you wouldn’t need to rely on yoongi’s presence so heavily. maybe you wouldn’t be here so much.

you were practically living with the mins at this point, rotating between yoongi’s room and his sister's, burrowing into the space she left behind like a stray cat that refused to be shooed away. as much as you loved being here, you also kind of hated it. hated feeling like a burden, like you were pushing too hard against the edges of a home that wasn’t really yours.

you’d only vanished for dinners with your own family after text after text about how they never see you anymore.

oops.

you shift, exhaling slowly, pressing your fingers into the warmth of yoongi’s hoodie. “who’s going?”

he shrugs against you. “jungkook, tae. maybe joon.”

you think about it. think about how nice it would be to get out of the house for a while. but mostly, you think about how you’re already too tangled up in yoongi’s orbit.

still, you murmur, “okay.”

yoongi doesn’t say anything right away. just tugs you in a little closer, fingers tightening at your hip, and presses another kiss to your forehead. lingering this time, sealing something in place. then, softly, “okay.”

he pulls back first, but only just. his hand stays at your waist, warm and grounding, making sure you don’t change your mind. “eat first,” he murmurs, gaze flicking toward the stove where his mom is flipping eggs. “then shower.”

you blink up at him. “are you calling me dirty?”

his lips twitch. “i’m saying you should shower.”

“sounds fake.”

he huffs, amused but unimpressed. “fine. smell like sleep and my hoodies forever. see if i care.”

you roll your eyes, finally stepping away from him, though you hate the way the absence of his touch feels so immediately wrong. still, you school your features into something appropriately annoyed as you grab a plate from the cabinet.

“can’t believe you’re bullying me first thing in the morning,” you mutter, grabbing a piece of toast.

yoongi snorts, swiping a slice of bacon off the stove before his mom can slap his hand away. “can’t believe you’re still talking.”

his mom groans. “i knew letting you two coexist was a mistake.”

you flash her a grin. “too late now.”

she just shakes her head, turning back to the stove.

yoongi bumps your hip with his before plopping down at the table, stretching his legs out obnoxiously under it. “shower,” he reminds you, mouth half-full of bacon.

you flip him off. he grins.

you roll your eyes, filling your plate with toast and bacon before sliding into the chair across from him. yoongi watches you with that lazy, knowing look, already knowing you’re going to stall as long as possible just to be a menace.

his mom sets a plate down in front of him, shaking her head. “if i hear either of you bickering before i finish my tea, i’m kicking you both out.”

“you love us,” you say, because it’s true.

she sighs, taking a sip. “unfortunately.”

yoongi snickers, stealing another piece of bacon. you don’t miss the way his mom flicks her gaze between the two of you, trying to decide if it’s worth saying anything else. but she just shakes her head again tbefore flipping open the newspaper.

you eat in comfortable silence, nudging at yoongi’s foot under the table just to be annoying. he nudges back. neither of you acknowledge it.

when you finally push your plate away, yoongi lifts a brow. “shower.”

you groan, slumping dramatically against the table. “why do you care so much?”

he chews, swallows, and says, “because you smell like my bed.”

your face heats instantly. “so?”

yoongi shrugs, reaching for his drink. “so people will think i’m obsessed with you or something.”

your heart stumbles over itself, trips and falls flat on its face.

“you are obsessed with me,” you blurt out, pointing at him. “admit it.”

he snorts, taking a sip of his juice. “nah.”

“liar.”

he just shrugs again. “go shower,” he says, pushing back from the table. “we’re leaving in twenty.”

you glare at him, but you still stand up, dragging your feet toward the hallway, making a show of how annoying this whole thing is.

right before you disappear into the bathroom, yoongi calls after you, voice laced with amusement. “don’t use my shampoo.”

you slam the door.

you knew yoongi liked to skate. it's been one of his most defining characteristics since the three of you were kids. along with his habit of being annoying and his penchant to get into trouble.

he'd showed you his collection of skateboards that day on his birthday, explaining how much he'd bought them for, showing you the designs he'd painted onto them himself, and telling you the tricks he'd done on them.

his hair had been blonde then. six months later, it’s a more minty color, faded at the roots. it suits him, you think. even if you’d never tell him that.

the walk to the skate park is quiet. comfortable. the late morning sun filters through the trees, casting warm patches of light onto the pavement, and the air still carries the crispness of early spring.

the path slopes downward, and you hesitate before saying, “i’ve been thinking about applying for an art course.”

“yeah,” yoongi says, kicking a loose rock down the path. “i heard you talking to my sister about it.”

you blink. “you eavesdropped on my call?”

he snorts. “you were in my room.”

fair point.

you nudge him with your elbow, ignoring the way your stomach twists at the idea of him remembering something so small. “so?”

he side-eyes you. “so what?”

you huff. “so, what do you think?”

yoongi rolls his shoulders like it’s obvious. “i think you should do it.”

it’s so simple. so straightforward. like there isn’t even a question in his mind about it.

you chew your lip, staring down at the pavement. “i dunno,” you mumble. “feels kind of stupid.”

yoongi stops walking. you get two more steps ahead before you realize and turn back, watching as he lifts a brow, expression flat.

“what?” you say.

his eyes flick over your face, unimpressed. “what’s stupid about it?”

you shift on your feet. “i don’t know. just... feels kind of late to be figuring out what i wanna do, i guess.”

yoongi stares at you for another long moment. then, without a word, he starts walking again. you fall into step beside him.

“you know namjoon didn’t start writing music until he was almost twenty?” he says eventually.

you frown. “that’s different.”

“not really.”

you glance at him, but he’s still looking ahead, expression unreadable.

“do it,” he says again, voice a little quieter this time. a little less teasing. “stop thinking about it and just do it.”

you exhale slowly, dragging your fingers along the strap of your bag. it’s so easy for him to say. but then again, yoongi has always done whatever he wanted, no matter how much trouble it got him into. maybe you should try it, too.

with that thought, your eyes linger on the side of yoongi’s face.

he’s always been like this. steady, sure of himself in a way that makes you envious. not in a loud, look-at-me way, but in a way that just is. like he’s figured out how to move through life without getting caught up in the little things that keep you stuck in place.

his gaze is focused ahead, brows drawn slightly, thinking about something but not saying what. the sharp line of his jaw softens when he chews at the inside of his cheek, something he does when he’s lost in thought.

you wonder what he’s thinking about. if it’s you, or if you’re just making it about you.

either way, you don’t look away.

maybe he feels your stare, or maybe he just knows, because after another few steps, he turns his head, catching your gaze like he was expecting it.

you don’t get the chance to glance away, to play it off.

his lips twitch slightly, the barest hint of amusement. “what?”

you shake your head, shrugging. “nothing.”

yoongi lifts a brow but doesn’t push. just keeps walking, hands still shoved deep into his pockets, that same small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth like he knows something you don’t.

and maybe he does.

you're familiar with some of yoongi’s friends. not in a close way, but enough that their names and faces aren’t completely foreign.

namjoon’s the oldest of his skater friends, the one who’s always been around in some capacity, showing up at the min’s house just as much as you used to. taehyung is newer, though still familiar. he’s got one of those personalities that makes you feel like you’ve known him forever, even if you’ve only spoken a handful of times.

and then there’s jungkook.

he was a year above you in school, and if that wasn’t enough to cement him in your memory, yoongi’s sister having the fattest crush on him definitely was.

you remember the way she used to sigh dramatically about him, how she’d make you wait outside the gym after basketball practice just to happen to be there when he walked out.

it was embarrassing.

the skate park is already busy when you arrive, full of guys who look like they’ve been here since sunrise, boards tucked under their arms, half-drunk bottles of gatorade left forgotten on the ledges.

yoongi barely glances around before spotting his friends near the bowl, plopping down on a nearby bench.

“you wanna sit and watch?” he asks, looking at you expectantly.

you hesitate, toeing at a crack in the pavement. jungkook, who’s already mid-conversation with taehyung, spots you first.

“oh, shit,” he says, grin spreading. “yoongi actually brought someone?”

taehyung turns too, eyes widening slightly before recognition clicks. “oh, wait. i know you.”

jungkook’s brow furrows, scanning you again. “yeah, you were a grade below me, right?”

you nod. “yeah. and yoongi’s sister used to be obsessed with you.”

jungkook groans immediately, dragging a hand down his face. “please don’t remind me.”

yoongi snickers beside you. “it was painful to watch, man.”

taehyung laughs, draping an arm over jungkook’s shoulder. “so you do have rizz.”

jungkook shoves him off. “shut up.”

you snort, easing onto the bench next to yoongi, feeling the tension in your chest uncoil just a little. maybe this won’t be so bad.

jungkook shakes his head, still grumbling under his breath about why does everyone keep bringing that up, but the conversation moves on quickly. taehyung says something about a new trick he’s been trying to land, and jungkook immediately challenges him to prove it.

yoongi stretches out beside you, one arm draped across the back of the bench, fingers tapping idly against the wood. he doesn’t seem in a rush to get up, which means you’re not in a rush to either.

“so, you actually skate?” you ask, nodding toward where taehyung is already flipping his board into his hands, preparing for his turn.

yoongi scoffs. “do i skate?”

you lift a brow.

he exhales, sitting up straighter. “i’m not just some guy with a collection, you know.”

“i dunno,” you tease, tilting your head. “i’ve never actually seen you do anything.”

yoongi narrows his eyes. “i showed you my boards.”

“yeah, but that’s like—” you wave a hand, “—showing off a bunch of guitars and never playing one.”

yoongi clicks his tongue, shaking his head. then, without a word, he stands, rolling his shoulders as he grabs his board.

“stay here,” he murmurs before stepping toward the bowl.

taehyung and jungkook are already watching as yoongi drops in, casual as ever, carving the curve of the bowl like it’s second nature.

and okay. fine. maybe you underestimated him a little. because yoongi doesn’t just skate. he’s good.

like, really good. smooth and effortless in a way that looks instinctual. you don’t realize you’re staring until jungkook nudges your arm, smirking.

“damn,” he muses, watching yoongi flip his board before landing clean. “you got a crush or something?”

your stomach flips. “shut up.”

jungkook just laughs.

yoongi moves like he’s been doing this forever. he doesn’t hesitate before dropping in again, knees bending smoothly with the curve of the bowl, shifting his weight just right before pushing into his next trick.

your eyes stay locked on him, unable to look away as he kicks his board up into a perfect flip, landing clean, not even the slightest stumble. he’s completely in his element. focused, sharp, like nothing outside of this moment exists.

you exhale, dragging your fingers across the edge of your sleeve.

“you’re staring,” jungkook teases under his breath, leaning close.

you glare, shoving him away. “i’m watching.”

jungkook snorts, clearly unbothered. “sure. whatever helps you sleep at night.”

but you don’t take the bait. not when yoongi lands another trick, smooth and seamless, and something tightens in your chest.

because damn. you never doubted that he could skate, but you didn’t expect this. the precision. the ease. the way he moves.

taehyung whistles low, impressed. “he’s showing off.”

you blink. “what?”

taehyung nods toward yoongi, who’s gearing up for another drop-in, his hoodie pulled up over his head now, mint-colored strands falling into his eyes.

“he wasn’t doing all this last time we were here,” taehyung muses, tilting his head. “probably trying to impress someone.”

you roll your eyes, but your stomach does a weird little flip anyway.

jungkook smirks. “wonder who that could be.”

you elbow him in the ribs.

yoongi lands another clean trick, kicking his board up into his hands before finally stepping off, exhaling through his nose as he pushes his hoodie back.

his eyes scan the park once before landing on you, and—

oh. he’s smirking.

a knowing little thing, subtle but there.

your face heats instantly, and you hate the way jungkook and taehyung both make noises of confirmation at the same time.

yoongi strolls over, board tucked under one arm, sweat gathering at his hairline. he stops in front of you, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“so?” he says, tilting his head. “believe me now?”

you cross your arms, forcing your expression into something unimpressed. “eh,” you hum. “i guess you can skate.”

yoongi huffs, shaking his head like. he leans in slightly, gaze flicking over your face, voice quieter when he murmurs “you were watching pretty hard for someone who just guesses.”

"fuck off," you say with a scoff.

taehyung points a dramatic finger at you, his eyes wide with mock intensity. “my turn!” he announces, loud enough to catch the attention of a few other skaters nearby, “this is for you.”

you blink. “uh—”

before you can even ask what he means, taehyung grabs his board, squares his shoulders, and launches into what you assume is supposed to be an ollie.

except his timing is completely off. his foot misses the pop, his weight shifts too far forward, and then he’s face-planting straight into the pavement.

it happens so fast you barely have time to react. one second he’s in the air, the next he’s sprawled out on the ground, limbs tangled with his board, the dull slap of skin meeting concrete ringing through the air.

there’s a brief, stunned silence, and then jungkook wheezes. yoongi snorts so hard he has to clap a hand over his mouth, and you press your fingers to your lips, trying—and failing—to suppress your laugh.

taehyung groans, lifting his head just enough to glare at the three of you. “y’all suck.”

jungkook clutches his stomach, barely able to get words out. “bro, i can’t breathe—”

yoongi shakes his head, stepping toward you. his arm hooks around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest, your laughter cutting off with a small, surprised inhale.

his voice is lower, teasing but warm, as he murmurs, “that’s what he gets for trying to impress my girl.”

your stomach flips. the words settle heavy in your chest, something warm spreading from your ribs outward, curling into your fingers, making your breath hitch just slightly.

yoongi doesn't let go right away, his hold lingering, fingers flexing slightly at your hip like he’s perfectly comfortable keeping you there.

taehyung, still facedown on the pavement, mutters, “i hate all of you.”

yoongi hums, completely unbothered. “you’ll live.”

the skate park trip lasts another hour before the collective hunger settles in. someone suggests maccas, and there’s no argument. because really, there’s no better way to wrap up an afternoon of skating than cheap burgers and greasy fries, so you all walk.

yoongi’s close beside you, like he always is, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, shoulders relaxed. taehyung walks ahead, still rubbing at his scraped-up elbow, while jungkook pushes his board lazily along the sidewalk, rolling it forward with the tip of his shoe.

“so,” jungkook starts, voice full of something already obnoxious, “are you two, like… together or what?”

your reaction is immediate. “no,” you blurt, way too quickly, way too defensively.

yoongi huffs. it’s quiet, barely a breath, but you hear it. so does jungkook.

his brows shoot up, not expecting the level of urgency in your denial. yoongi, for his part, doesn’t say anything, but you feel the way his shoulders tense for a split second. the way his head tilts slightly, side-eyeing you.

you don’t look at him.

jungkook whistles low. “damn. that was fast.”

“right?” taehyung snickers.

your face heats. “because it’s not a thing.”

jungkook hums, unconvinced. “sure.”

taehyung nods. “yeah, totally. absolutely no thing happening here.”

you glare, shoving him as you walk past. yoongi stays quiet.

you don’t glance at him, but you feel his presence beside you, the weight of something tense hanging in the space between you. it doesn’t go away for the rest of the walk.

the mcdonald's is busy when you arrive, buzzing with the usual mix of skateboarders, students, and exhausted parents just trying to survive the afternoon rush.

the four of you shuffle into line, the overhead speaker crackling with some pop song that’s been playing on every radio station for months. jungkook and taehyung are still laughing about something behind you, but you don’t catch it. not when yoongi’s standing beside you, gaze straightforward.

you don’t know why you do it. maybe out of habit. maybe to see if he’ll react. but you nudge his arm, light, just a little bump against his sleeve.

he doesn’t move, doesn’t nudge back. doesn’t even look at you.

your stomach twists, something uncomfortably hot settling behind your ribs. yoongi doesn’t usually ignore you, at least not like this. not in a way that feels so intentional.

still, you don’t say anything.

the line moves forward. when you finally reach the counter, yoongi steps up first, rattling off his usual order without looking at the menu. and then he orders yours, too.

exactly how you like it. down to the make sure there's no pickles.

you blink, caught off guard, but before you can ask, yoongi beats you to it. “i know you don’t have money on you.”

you swallow, shifting on your feet. “oh.”

yoongi doesn’t glance at you. just hands the cashier a crumpled bill from his hoodie pocket.

“thanks,” you mumble, voice quieter than you mean it to be.

yoongi just hums. no teasing. no smug little comment. and that makes your chest ache even more.

you fidget with the hem of your sleeve, shifting closer before tilting your head up, peering up at him through your lashes. “… are you mad at me?”

yoongi exhales sharply through his nose. not annoyed, not exasperated. just something.

he tugs you against him. not rough, just a simple pull, his arm looping around your shoulder. his hoodie smells like faded detergent and cheap cigarette smoke and something unmistakably him.

“i’m not mad,” he murmurs, voice low, steady.

you don’t know what to do with your hands, so you just shove them into your own pockets, fingers curling into the fabric. “… promise?”

yoongi sighs, his grip tightening slightly before his chin rests against the top of your head. “yeah,” he mutters. “promise.”

he presses a kiss to your forehead. a silent reassurance. a quiet see? i’m not mad. “don’t worry about it,” he murmurs, voice low, steady.

and you nod, leaning into him.

the playground is quiet this time of day, mostly empty aside from the four of you and the occasional kid passing by with their parents.

jungkook lounges at the bottom of the slide, food balanced on his knees, absentmindedly sipping his coke. yoongi sits a little further off, at the edge of the sandpit, one leg stretched out, the other bent, balancing his burger in one hand.

you and taehyung are on the swings, feet planted in the sand, your bags resting on your laps. the metal creaks slightly as taehyung shifts, twisting just enough to face you, an amused glint in his eyes.

“yours any good?” he asks, nodding toward your milkshake.

you hum, taking another sip. “mm-hmm.”

he leans in, offering his cup, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “wanna try mine?”

you blink at him. “it’s the same flavor.”

he pauses, then laughs, shaking his head. “yeah, but maybe mine tastes better.”

you frown, taking his drink anyway, sipping through the straw before handing it back. “nope. exactly the same.”

taehyung snorts. “right. obviously.”

you don’t catch the way he watches you for a second longer than necessary, or the way yoongi’s gaze flicks over from where he’s sitting.

your fries are nearly gone when tragedy strikes. you shift a little too much, and what’s left of them topples straight into the sand.

you let out a groan, staring down at them in dismay.

taehyung doesn’t hesitate, nudging his own toward you. “here,” he says, tone light, almost teasing. “you can have some of mine. since i’m so generous.”

you smile, grabbing a handful. “thanks, taehyungie. you’re my favorite.”

taehyung blinks, not expecting that response, then recovers quickly, smirk returning. “oh, am i?”

you nod, popping a fry into your mouth. “mm-hmm.”

“better not let yoongi hear that,” he muses, leaning closer, voice dipping just a little lower. “he might get jealous.”

you glance over at yoongi, who hasn’t reacted at all. still sitting there, picking at the wrapper of his burger, expression unreadable. then you shrug, completely missing the way taehyung’s eyes narrow in amusement.

“he’ll live,” you say, reaching for another fry.

taehyung watches you for a moment, absently sipping his milkshake, before tilting his head. "so, you and yoongi," he starts, casual. too casual. "really not a thing?"

you pause. it’s a split-second hesitation, but it's there, and taehyung doesn’t miss it.

you glance over at yoongi before you can stop yourself, like your body reacts before your brain can catch up. he’s still sitting on the edge of the sandpit, half-focused on peeling the wrapper off his burger, but his jaw is tight, his fingers a little too still.

you swallow, forcing yourself to look back at taehyung.

"no," you say, a little slower this time. "we're not."

taehyung hums, he’s turning it over in his mind.

"so, hypothetically," he muses, stretching out his legs in the sand, "if someone, say, me, wanted to take you out—"

you blink.

"—you wouldn't be off limits or anything, right?"

your lips part slightly, confusion flickering across your face before you shake your head. "uh… no?"

taehyung grins, dragging a fry through his ketchup before popping it into his mouth. "good to know."

you don’t even have time to process that before he shifts again, leaning slightly into your space, his voice dipping just enough to make your ears warm.

he nods toward yoongi, then toward himself, smirking. "technically, you’re with me right now."

you scoff, rolling your eyes. "you wish, taehyung."

"oh, i do," he says smoothly, sipping his milkshake like it's nothing.

you shake your head, tossing a fry at him, and he catches it without missing a beat.

from the edge of the sandpit, yoongi exhales sharply through his nose.

the conversation drifts after that, slipping into something lighter. taehyung teasing jungkook about his tragic attempt at a kickflip earlier, jungkook firing back with a dig about taehyung eating dirt at the skate park.

you listen, half-engaged, but the weight of something still sits in your chest.

yoongi hasn’t said much. hasn’t looked at you much, either.

he finished eating a while ago, now idly toying with the straw in his drink, long fingers tapping a slow, absent rhythm against the plastic cup.

then, after a moment, “we should go.” his voice is even, casual, but something about it makes you straighten a little too quickly.

“yeah,” you say, standing, dusting sand off your jeans. “sounds good.”

taehyung flashes a grin, tilting his head up at you from his swing. “what, leaving me already?”

you roll your eyes. “yeh, i’m done with you losers.”

jungkook snickers from his spot at the slide, but doesn’t comment.

you move to fall in step beside yoongi like you always do, but when you do, he kind of shrugs past you. not harsh, not in an outright dismissive way, but pointed enough that you feel it.

your feet hesitate for a split second before moving again, catching up despite the slight hitch in your chest.

yoongi doesn’t look at you. doesn’t say anything else.

just walks, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, gaze fixed ahead like there’s nothing to talk about. but you feel it. something in the space between you feels different. feels off.

and you don’t know what to do about it.

the walk home is quiet.

it’s not an awkward silence, not exactly, but it’s not the usual kind either. not the comfortable kind that’s filled with shared looks and nudges and stupid little comments that don’t really mean anything but still feel like something.

this silence is… something else. something heavier.

yoongi walks ahead, hands still shoved into his hoodie pockets, his pace easy, unbothered. you trail behind him, dragging your feet just enough to make yourself feel pathetic.

you don’t want to feel like this. don’t want to care that he’s keeping just a little too much distance between you, or that he hasn’t looked at you once since you left the playground, or that your stomach still twists a little too tightly when you think about the way he brushed past you.

but you do care. you care a lot.

you bite the inside of your cheek, arms crossed as you stare down at the pavement, forcing yourself to keep moving, to pretend like this doesn’t feel like some kind of punishment for something you don’t even understand.

when you finally reach his house, yoongi steps inside first, toeing off his shoes without a word before heading toward his room.

you hesitate at the entrance, shifting your weight between your feet.

technically, you don’t live here. technically, you could just turn around and go home. but you don’t. you never do.

so, with a quiet sigh, you step inside, closing the door behind you.

you linger by the entryway for a second longer than necessary, watching yoongi’s back as he disappears down the hall. he doesn’t look back, doesn’t wait for you.

so you swallow hard, shoulders curling inward, and follow after him anyway.

by the time you make it up to his room, yoongi’s already in the bathroom. the door isn’t closed all the way. just slightly ajar, steam from the sink curling into the dimly lit hallway. you hesitate for a second, fingers grazing the edge of your sleeve, before stepping inside.

he doesn’t acknowledge you at first.

just stands there, leaning over the sink, brushing his teeth with slow, methodical strokes, his hoodie peeled off and discarded somewhere on the floor. his hair is slightly damp at the ends, probably from splashing his face, mint-colored strands curling just slightly.

you grab your own toothbrush from the cup beside the faucet, running it under the water before squeezing out too much toothpaste. yoongi doesn’t glance at you, so you don’t glance at him either.

the silence is thick.

your shoulders brush as you move, barely, a light little thing that normally wouldn’t mean anything. except tonight, it does. tonight, you notice.

tonight, it feels like yoongi not nudging you back in the maccas line. it feels like yoongi shrugging past you instead of waiting.

you stare at your reflection in the mirror, at the way your brows are slightly furrowed, the way your mouth presses into a thin line as you scrub your teeth a little too hard.

this isn’t normal. normally, this is easy.

normally, you’d be bumping into each other, making faces in the mirror, shoving at his arm when he spits toothpaste too aggressively into the sink.

but tonight, he just brushes his teeth, and you do the same, and neither of you say a word.

when you finish brushing, you hesitate. just for a second.

toothbrush still in hand, you glance at yoongi out of the corner of your eye, watching as he rinses his mouth, spits, and swipes his hand across his face. he doesn’t look at you, just flicks off the faucet with a sharp movement and reaches for his towel.

your stomach feels tight. you should say something, but you don’t.

instead, you put your toothbrush back in the cup and turn toward his room, stepping past him without a word.

but before you can take another step, yoongi grabs you by the shoulders. his touch isn’t rough, but it’s firm. fingers pressing into the fabric of your shirt, stopping you cold.

your breath catches, pulse stumbling.

“what do you want from me?”

his voice is low, but there’s something frayed at the edges. something not entirely calm.

you blink, caught completely off guard. “what?”

yoongi exhales sharply through his nose, hands tightening slightly.

“what do you want from me?” he repeats, slower this time.

your heart pounds against your ribs. his face is so close, eyes dark, searching, his jaw clenched like he’s trying to keep his voice even.

“because i—” he swallows hard, fingers flexing against your arms. “i want you. wholly. completely.”

your breath stutters. his grip doesn’t loosen.

“there’s no one else in the world i want more,” he says, voice rough. “but i need to know if i’m wasting my time.”

your throat goes dry, your mind races. the air is thick between you, heavy with something you don’t know how to name, something you don’t know if you can handle.

yoongi’s eyes flick over your face, searching for something, for anything. and you don’t know what to say.

you swallow hard.

yoongi’s fingers twitch against your shoulders, breath warm where it ghosts across your face. he’s so close, too close, looking at you like he’s begging for something—an answer, a reaction, anything.

“what do you see when you look at me?” he asks, voice low, rough around the edges.

your throat feels tight. “yoongi—”

“because when i look at you,” he continues, cutting you off, “i see the girl i kissed in the kitchen on my birthday. the girl i’ve been sharing a bed with for the past six months.”

the words settle heavy in your chest, pressing down, down, down.

“the girl i’m—” he exhales sharply, jaw clenching for a beat before forcing the words out. “the girl i’m hopelessly in love with.”

your breath stutters. his eyes flick over your face, searching, desperate.

he’s shaking now, just slightly. just enough that you feel it, just enough that you know this is costing him something.

“so tell me,” he murmurs, voice quieter now, like he’s scared of what comes next, “what do you see?”

he’s laid himself bare. no more room to dodge, no more room to pretend. it’s your turn.

but your mind is racing, spiraling too fast, trying to catch up.

before you can think, before you can second-guess, before you can talk yourself out of it, you kiss him.

it crashes into him, hands fisting into the fabric of his t-shirt, fingers curling tight like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you let go.

yoongi freezes. just for a second, just long enough for you to think you’ve fucked up, but then he moves. his hands slide from your shoulders to your waist, gripping, pulling, needing, mouth pressing firm against yours, breath hot and uneven as he exhales into the kiss.

it’s messy and urgent. six months’ worth of unsaid things spilling out all at once.

yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between frustration and relief, like he’s wanted this for so long he can’t believe it’s finally happening.

and you don’t know why you ever tried to fight it.

yoongi’s hands are firm at your waist, fingers pressing into your sides, his body heat sinking into yours. he lifts you, hands gripping beneath your thighs, shifting you up until you’re perched on the bathroom counter, your knees falling open around him as he steps between them, slotting himself exactly where he belongs.

you gasp against his lips, hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself, but yoongi just smirks, a slow, teasing thing as he exhales sharply through his nose.

his fingers squeeze at your waist, holding you in place, keeping you trapped against him.

then, voice low, amused, “deja vu?”

your breath catches, stomach flipping. because fuck.

the birthday. the kitchen.

his hands on your thighs, his body between your legs, the first time you let him kiss you like this.

your mouth parts slightly, but nothing comes out. you don’t know what to say, don’t know how to respond to the way he’s looking at you. your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, gripping tight.

yoongi’s smirk softens just a little, but his eyes stay locked on yours, sharp and knowing. “got an excuse to stop this time?” he murmurs, tilting his head.

you shake your head. “no.”

yoongi hums, pleased, his fingers flexing against your skin. “good,” he murmurs, before pulling you into him, mouth crashing back against yours.

yoongi kisses you like he’s starving for it, like he’s been holding back for months, fingers digging into your waist as he tugs you impossibly closer.

his hands move without hesitation. skimming up your sides, brushing beneath your shirt, teasing at the waistband of your shorts, testing how far you’ll let him go.

when you don’t stop him, when you only tighten your grip on his shirt, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, he exhales sharply against your lips.

“yeah?” he murmurs, voice rough, barely holding back.

you nod, breathless. “yeah.”

that’s all he needs.

his hand slips past the elastic of your shorts, fingers pushing beneath the waistband of your underwear, pressing right there, just enough to make your stomach tighten, heat pooling deep in your core.

you gasp against his mouth, back arching slightly.

yoongi smirks, lips brushing against yours as he rubs slow, deliberate circles over your clit, teasing, barely enough pressure to satisfy.

“you’re already wet,” he murmurs, voice laced with something dark and pleased.

you bite your lip, hips shifting toward his hand, but he just hums, keeping the pace agonizingly slow.

“you like this?” he asks, like he doesn’t already know.

his fingers press down a little harder, circling just right, and you make a quiet, desperate noise. yoongi groans at that, his other hand gripping your thigh, keeping you open for him, his mouth brushing against your jaw.

“thought about this,” he mutters, lips ghosting over your skin, “so many times.”

his fingers move faster now, pressing, rubbing, teasing you to the edge, the heat between your legs burning beneath his touch.

“yoongi—” your voice breaks, head tipping back against the mirror.

his lips press against your throat, his breath heavy. he strokes over your clit again, pressing tight little circles that make your stomach twist, make your thighs tense around his waist, make your breath stutter out in sharp, quiet gasps.

yoongi groans against your skin, low and throaty, his mouth brushing along the curve of your jaw. he slides his fingers lower, pushing your underwear aside and teasing at your entrance, dragging them through your slick before pushing in.

a sharp inhale rips through you, your nails digging into his shoulders, his shirt fisting in your hands.

yoongi groans again, deep this time, his fingers sinking into your cunt nice and slow, stretching you open.

“fuck,” he mutters, mouth pressing against the corner of your lips, his breath hot.

his fingers curl, stroke, press into that soft, sensitive spot inside you, and your whole body tenses, a soft whimper slipping from your throat before you can stop it.

yoongi feels it, feels the way you tighten around his fingers, the way your hips jerk toward him, and groans, his forehead pressing to yours.

“yeah? you like that?” he murmurs, voice dark, rough.

you nod, breathless. “y-yeah.”

he exhales sharply, and his fingers keep moving. slow at first, dragging in and out, teasing you open, before pressing deeper, his thumb slipping up to rub your clit in slow, lazy circles. your thighs tremble around him.

“you always this wet, baby?” yoongi rasps, eyes flicking to yours, heavy-lidded, heated.

you don’t get the chance to answer, because then he’s crooking his fingers, pressing right fucking there, and all you can do is gasp, head falling back against the mirror with a quiet, breathless moan.

yoongi watches you. watches the way your body reacts to him, watches the way your lips part, the way your hands clutch at him, your whole body responding to him like you were made for his touch.

his breath shudders out.

“you’re gonna let me fuck you, aren’t you?” he murmurs, pressing his fingers deeper, harder, coaxing another whimper from your lips. his own brush against yours, not quite a kiss, almost. “tell me,” he breathes. “tell me you want it.”

your whole body reacts before your brain even catches up, hips rolling instinctively into yoongi’s hand, chasing the pleasure he’s pulling from you.

“i—” your breath shudders, voice barely above a whisper. “i want it.”

yoongi curses under his breath, his forehead pressing to yours for half a second before he drives his fingers into you again, pressing hard, and you squeal, the sound high-pitched and desperate. before it can fully escape, yoongi’s hand is covering your mouth, his fingers pressing against your cheek, his own breath coming out shaky.

“fuck,” he groans, voice thick with something dark.

his fingers don’t slow. they move fast and rough, pumping into you, curling deep, his thumb rubbing messy, urgent circles over your clit, dragging you closer and closer to the edge until your whole body is trembling, tightening around him, begging for it.

yoongi groans again, his hand still over your lips, muffling every soft, broken noise spilling from your throat.

“be quiet,” he breathes, voice strained, like he’s losing himself in the way you react to him, the way you feel around his fingers.

you can’t be quiet. not when he’s touching you like this, not when he’s looking at you like this. eyes heavy, jaw clenched, breathing ragged as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

you whimper into his palm, your hands clutching at his wrist, your whole body tightening as pleasure crashes through you, sending a sharp, blinding wave of heat down your spine.

yoongi groans, watching the way you come undone around his fingers, feeling the way you squeeze down, hips stuttering against his hand.

he doesn’t move his hand from your mouth until the tremors in your thighs start to fade. when he does, he presses his forehead against yours, exhaling sharply, his fingers slipping out of you just as slowly as they slid in.

“we’re not done,” he says, voice low, utterly wrecked.

his breath is still heavy, his forehead pressed to yours, hands sliding back down to your hips, gripping. yoongi grinds against you, his hips rolling forward just enough that you feel him. feel how hard he is through his jeans, the way he presses right up against you.

your breath stutters, fingers tightening in his shirt, and yoongi groans, voice rough, barely holding himself together. “fuck, doll.”

your stomach flips. the name isn’t new. he’s thrown it around before, teasing, casual, just part of the way he speaks. but this is different.

his lips brush over your cheek, jaw, down to your throat, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses between his words. “you feel that?” he murmurs, voice thick, almost shaky.

you nod, swallowing hard, and yoongi hums, dragging his mouth back up to your ear.

“this is what you do to me,” he breathes.

he grinds again. harder this time, pushing against you, making you feel him. letting you know exactly what you’ve done to him, exactly how much he wants you.

his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt, grazing the bare skin of your waist, warm and possessive, gripping like he’s making sure you don’t slip away.

“gonna make you feel so good, doll,” he murmurs, kissing just beneath your ear, smirking against your skin when he feels you shudder.

his hips roll forward again, pressing just right, sending a spark of heat straight through you, and a soft whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it.

yoongi groans at that, his grip tightening. “yeah?” he murmurs, teasing. “like that?”

you nod frantically, breathless.

yoongi smirks, lips grazing yours. “good,” he mutters.

then he kisses you hard, hands gripping your thighs, pulling you even closer as his hips roll into yours again, again, again.

your fingers move down fumble against the waistband of his jeans, your breathing uneven, hands barely able to keep up with the urgency buzzing through your veins.

yoongi feels it. feels your desperation, your need, the way your hands shake slightly as you try to pop the button.

he smirks. "impatient, huh?" his voice is low, teasing, lips brushing over yours as he exhales, the warmth of it sending a shiver straight down your spine.

"take these off," you whimper softly, frustrated, fingers tugging uselessly at the fabric, and yoongi chuckles.

“here, doll,” he murmurs, his own hands coming down to cover yours, moving with an effortless ease, his fingers brushing against yours as he pops the button open, then drags the zipper down, slow and deliberate.

he holds your gaze the entire time, watching the way your eyes flicker, the way your chest rises and falls too fast, too eager.

"there we go," he murmurs, voice thick with something almost fond.

his hands shift, moving to the waistband of your shorts now, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, grazing warm over your skin.

“lift your hips for me,” he mutters.

you do, without question, and yoongi chuckles at that, his lips curling just slightly, pleased, before he drags your shorts down, letting them drop to the floor.

his gaze dips, his fingers skimming over your bare thighs, and he hums, voice deep, teasing. "much better."

your breath is ragged, your body thrumming with anticipation, but somewhere in the back of your mind you manage to think just clearly enough to gasp out, “wait—do you have a condom?”

yoongi huffs, lips brushing against your jaw as he mutters, “yeah, yeah. hang on.”

then, before you can say anything else, he pulls away, stepping back with a sharp exhale, raking a hand through his messy, mint-tinted hair.

you watch as he disappears into his room, the absence of his warmth making you ache, leaving you cold in a way that has nothing to do with the air against your bare skin.

you hear the faint slide of a drawer opening, the sound of something shifting inside. then the drawer shuts, footsteps padding back toward the bathroom.

yoongi steps inside again, his gaze flicking over you. still perched on the counter, thighs spread, lips parted, chest rising and falling fast.

his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. then, without breaking eye contact, he lifts the foil packet to his mouth and tears it open with his teeth.

your stomach flips.

his eyes are dark, focused, his breath steady as he pulls the condom free. “gonna be good for me, doll?” he murmurs, voice thick, nearly a growl.

you nod, too breathless to speak, and yoongi smirks.

then he steps between your legs again, his hands warm and possessive at your waist, his mouth ghosting over yours as he mutters “good girl.”

yoongi doesn’t rush, doesn’t fumble.

his fingers move smoothly, easily, like he’s done this a million times before, even as his chest is rising a little too fast, his muscles tense beneath his skin.

he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, tugging them down in one slow, fluid motion, along with his boxers, just far enough to free himself, and your breath catches. he’s hard, aching and heavy, flushed at the tip, standing thick against his stomach.

yoongi exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders back, and then he’s sliding the condom over his cock, his fingers sure and steady, his gaze flicking up to yours through heavy-lidded eyes.

“you watching me, doll?”

your cheeks burn. “no....”

yoongi smirks, the corner of his lips curling, completely unbothered by your blatant lie. “sure you aren’t.”

his voice is amused, teasing, but there’s something darker beneath it. something satisfied at the way your thighs shift, the way your breath hitches when his fingers tighten at your waist.

the condom rolls into place, snug around the base, and yoongi gives himself a slow stroke, groaning under his breath before stepping closer, slotting himself between your legs once more.

his hands grip your thighs, spreading them wider, pulling you to the edge of the counter. his length presses against you, hot, throbbing right against your cunt, and you gasp, hands flying to his shoulders.

yoongi chuckes, but there’s something wrecked in his eyes now, barely holding it together. “still want this?” he murmurs, voice rough, hands squeezing at your skin.

your fingers curl into his shoulders. “yes,” you breathe.

yoongi groans, low and deep in his chest. “good,” he mutters. then he aligns himself and pushes in.

the stretch is intense. your breath stutters, nails digging into his skin as he pushes in slow but insistent, filling you inch by inch.

"fuck," yoongi groans through clenched teeth, his head dropping against your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin.

you whimper, your walls clenching down around him, trying to adjust to the sheer size of him, the way he’s stretching you open, making space inside you that wasn’t there before.

"tight—" yoongi grits out, his hands squeezing your hips, forcing himself to take it slow. his arms tremble slightly as he holds himself still, his chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths. "so fucking tight, doll," he murmurs, voice strained, lips brushing against the curve of your neck.

you moan softly, head pressing against the side of his. yoongi shudders against you, his fingers twitching where they grip your thighs, his body tense like he’s barely holding on.

"shit," he exhales, his voice wrecked, his forehead still pressed to your shoulder, breath heavy.

you’re both completely still, bodies locked together, hearts pounding in sync. yoongi grits his teeth, exhaling hard through his nose. then, his lips brush against your ear, voice barely more than a breath. "tell me when, doll."

your fingers tighten in yoongi’s shirt, legs trembling around his waist, your whole body thrumming with need, stretched tight around him but craving more, needing him to move.

you tilt your head back against the mirror, breath coming out in quick, shallow gasps.

"please," you whisper, voice wrecked, barely able to get the word out.

yoongi groans, deep in his chest, his hands tightening at your hips. "yeah?" he rasps, his voice low and gravelly. before you can even nod he snaps his hips forward.

the force of it knocks the breath from your lungs, sends a sharp, blinding spark of pleasure through your spine. yoongi curses under his breath, pushes in deeper before pulling back and slamming into you again and again, fast and hard.

every thrust sharp, his grip bruising, his breath hot against your neck as he groans against your skin, completely losing himself in the way you squeeze around him, the way you take him so perfectly.

"fuck, doll," he grits out, voice shaking, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounds into you. "so fucking good."

your hands scramble for purchase, gripping at his shoulders, his hair, his arms, anything to ground yourself as he drives into you, his pace unrelenting.

"wanted this," he groans, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth. "wanted you for so fucking long."

your breath hitches, your body tightening around him in response, and yoongi feels it.

"shit," he groans, slamming into you harder, faster, deeper. "say it," he demands, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath ragged. "tell me you wanted this too."

your breath stutters, pleasure coiling so tight in your stomach it’s almost painful.

"i—" your voice breaks, another moan slipping free as he fucks in deep, his cock kissing that sweet spot, his pace just a little too much, just enough to make your thighs shake.

yoongi smirks against your lips. "c’mon, doll."

you clutch at his shoulders, nails scraping down his back, legs tightening around his waist as you finally choke out, "i wanted this."

his body shudders against you, a sharp exhale leaving his lips, his rhythm faltering just slightly before he picks it up again, faster, harder, driving into you like he’s trying to make up for all the months of waiting, of wanting, of not having.

"good girl," he breathes, his hand sliding up your back, pulling you closer and pressing his forehead to yours, his lips hovering just over yours, his breath hot and uneven. "so fucking good for me."

your stomach flips, heat rolling through you like a tidal wave, and you don’t know how much longer you can hold on. yoongi feels it. feels the way your body tenses, the way your legs shake, the way your walls clamp down tight around him.

"you gonna cum for me, doll?" he murmurs, voice dark, teasing, but there’s something almost soft under it, something needy, something that says he wants this just as much as you do.

you nod, breathless, your body already so close. yoongi groans, his pace punishing, his hands holding you exactly where he wants you.

"then be good," he rasps, voice breaking. "cum for me."

your head tilts back, mouth falling open as a sharp, broken moan escapes your lips, and yoongi reacts on instinct. his hand slaps over your mouth again, muffling the sound, his palm hot against your skin.

"shhh, doll," he groans, his forehead dropping against yours, his own breath coming in ragged, uneven pants. "you gotta be quiet."

his words barely register over the sheer pleasure that slams through you, waves of heat rolling through your body as you gush around him. your whole body shakes, thighs trembling, walls fluttering around his cock, the pressure between your legs snapping so hard you see white.

yoongi grits his teeth, his pace stuttering, his hand still firm over your mouth as he groans deep in his chest. "fuck, baby," he rasps, his voice low, wrecked, almost pleading.

his hips don’t relent, driving into you through the aftershocks, his pace growing more erratic, more desperate, chasing his own high as you pulse around him, your body still milking him for everything he has.

"so fucking tight," he mutters, his lips brushing over your damp skin, his breath hot, ragged. "tou're gonna milk me dry, doll. gonna cum so fucking hard—"

his words send another sharp, overwhelming wave of heat through your already-sensitive body, another muffled whimper slipping past your lips against his palm.

yoongi groans, his movements turning sloppy, his body tensing. and then, with a sharp, wrecked moan, he breaks.

yoongi slams into you one last time, his whole body tensing, a deep, wrecked groan spilling from his lips as he cums, hips jerking against yours, fingers digging into your skin. his breath is shaky, uneven, his forehead pressing against yours, his body trembling slightly as he rides out his high.

his hand is still covering your mouth, his palm warm against your flushed skin, muffling the soft, breathless whimpers still slipping past your lips.

it takes a second. a long, heavy moment where the only sounds in the bathroom are your mingled breathing, the faint hum of the overhead light, the distant creak of the house settling.

and then yoongi exhales hard, his body relaxing against yours, his grip loosening as he finally lets his hand drop from your mouth.

your lips are swollen, your chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths, your whole body still reeling from the intensity of it all.

yoongi leans in, pressing the softest kiss to the corner of your mouth. so gentle, so tender, reminding you that even after everything, he’s still him. "you okay, doll?"

his fingers brush over your cheek, his touch light and his gaze flicking over your face, checking. making sure you’re here, with him. making sure he didn’t just wreck you beyond repair.

you swallow hard, blinking up at him, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt like you’re afraid to let go. "yeah," you whisper, voice hoarse, spent. "i’m okay."

yoongi hums, his lips twitching just slightly, a hint of something soft beneath the haze of pleasure still clouding his gaze. "good," he murmurs. "‘cause that was—" he exhales sharply, a small, breathy chuckle slipping past his lips, shaking his head like he can’t even find the words.

you laugh, quiet, breathless, your forehead tipping against his. "yeah," you murmur. "it was."

neither of you move right away. neither of you want to.

right now, it’s just you and him, breathing in the same air, existing in the same space, his hands still on your waist, your legs still wrapped around him, his lips still close enough that all it would take is the smallest movement to kiss him again.

and you want to. but before you can, yoongi snickers, shaking his head as he pulls back just enough to look at you, an amused smirk playing at the edges of his lips.

"well," he mutters, voice teasing, "guess we gotta shower now."

you groan, tilting your head back with an exhausted sigh, "can't we relax a bit first?"

but he just grins, leaning in to press another lazy, lingering kiss to your jaw. "c’mon, doll," he hums against your skin, lips curving as his hands squeeze at your hips.

"round two?"

taglist : @rpwprpwprpwprw @haru-jiminn @glossdebut @mimi1097 @angellekookie @yooniivrse @annyeongbitch7 @hemmosfear

[jeonstudios]

fontana di trevi | 02

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 9k

warnings: same as last time basically: blood, needles, suicidal thoughts and intentions

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 2/2

<previous | next>

© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

“Thanks,” you smile politely as you close the car door, hearing the Uber drive off behind you. The walk up to the house is no different than last time, yet it definitely feels different. Both because of what happened almost a week ago, but also since you’re hoping this will be the last time.

What certainly is different is the surprised look on the vampire’s face as he opens the door to see you standing there with your hands in the pockets of your winter coat.

He himself is wearing a black hoodie, and once again, black shorts. His hair looks a little messier than how you’re used to seeing it. Almost like he’s been sleeping. Vampires don’t sleep, though, do they?

“I… didn’t think you’d show,” he admits honestly, nonetheless opening the door wider for you, and as you enter, you can’t help but think that he looks… almost cuddly.

Of course, he still gives off the usual intimidating aura, and he should probably be even scarier to you considering what happened last time you met him, but… you don’t know. Perhaps you’re just so deprived of human touch that a bloodthirsty vampire’s cold embrace seems inviting.

This time, he waits in the hallway while you step out of your shoes and remove your coat. 

“Yeah, I still want this. I just… wasn’t prepared,” you explain rather vaguely, knowing that he understands exactly what you’re getting at anyway. You want to die but on your terms.

“It wasn’t my intention. To do what I did.”

You meet his eyes. It’s not an outright apology, but it feels eerily close to one.

“You were there to… feed, weren’t you?”

He nods. “Didn’t get the chance to on Thursday or Friday.”

It’s your turn to nod in understanding. For a short moment, you stand there, looking at each other. 

Until you break the silence. “So, can we start?”

“Sure,” he agrees, turning around to head toward the kitchen.

Like the first time you showed up to his house when he didn’t think you were going to, he has to bring the supplies from wherever he keeps them. You take your spot at the table, slip off your cardigan, and wait.

The vampire returns with his hands full, placing the stuff down on the table before he pulls out another chair and positions it the same way as always. But his focus lies on your skin.

“These are new bruises?” he asks, carefully grasping your hand and very gently lifting it to better inspect the yellowing marks covering your skin. “You always bruise like this after?”

You follow his gaze. There are currently three bruises on your right arm, none the same as the night he almost killed you. Two are yellow and from when you bumped into a dresser at home a few days ago. The third is purple but smaller and its origin a mystery. If he wanted to see bruises, he should’ve seen the ones on your legs after you fell when he attacked you.

“Not the first time, but yeah. Usually just from the needle site, but lately, it’s all over. I guess I’m a little deficient in something,” you joke quietly, but the vampire doesn't laugh. 

“Why does it interest you so much? Do you have some kind of medical degree?” you ask, thinking back to when he first asked you why you didn’t wonder about his apparent knowledge.

“Not officially, but being dependent on humans like we are to some extent, you tend to pick up on stuff, and having been around as long as I have, it’s even more unavoidable. But I’ve never seen bruising this severe from blood loss.”

Fair enough. Your body should definitely try to keep the little blood remaining inside your veins, where it belongs. 

He starts prepping your arm, but instead of looking away, you close your eyes. Are you imagining things or has he been… softer lately? Making sure you got home safely instead of leaving you to your fate, almost worrying about your bruises, and being gentler in the way he attaches the needle? Then again, he’s only making sure you can give him as much blood as possible, and he also would’ve probably killed you if he’d gotten ahold of you last week.

“I take it you’ve killed before?” 

There’s a few seconds of silence, but then he answers, and there’s nothing hidden in his words or voice that reveals something more.

“I have.”

“How do you…,” you start, unsure of how to phrase your question. “I mean, what do you do… after?”

“Are you asking…?”

“How do you… dispose of them? And… I guess, how will you dispose of… me?”

It’s not really a sensitive question for you, so you’re not sure for whose sake you’re so careful. You doubt the vampire really cares.

You hear him exhale. “I guess it depends on the circumstances. I haven’t planned anything.”

You wince when he sticks you, more painful this time for some reason. The ball is placed in your hand like always, and you start to squeeze it.

Your curiosity isn’t that dire, so you’re not disappointed by his answer. Maybe he’s not even being honest, and it’s for your sake? Which brings you back to why he’s being extra gentle. The only other explanation you can think of is that he feels sorry for you. Maybe he just truly wants to spare you unnecessary pain and worry in the last moments of your pathetic life? Because this is it. With how shitty you’ve been feeling these last couple of weeks and especially since last time, you know it won’t be long. Today’s the day.

One bag. He can take one bag and after that he’ll have to end it. That way, you don’t have to bleed out, and he’ll get as much blood as possible. If he takes your advice about how to drain the rest, well, that’s up to him.

You’re startled by the sound of knocking, opening your eyes to see the vampire rise from his chair, seemingly sharing your surprise. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Nodding, you close your eyes again, getting as comfortable as you can in the chair while wondering who’s at the door. A vampire friend? A vampire partner? Surely, he doesn’t hang out with humans on the regular? You always got the impression, both from him and vampires in pop culture, that they don’t really care for humans. In fact, a dirty human only pesters a vampire’s environment unless they’re actively dying.

Your heart hurts. It’s beating heavily inside your chest, a feeling you’ve grown somewhat used to over the weeks, but it feels undeniably worse. Like every beat is a painful and exhausting accomplishment. Your breaths grow heavier too. 

Surely, it’s been more than a minute. Is he on his way back? If he were a human, chatting with another human at the front door, maybe you would’ve heard them, but you can’t discern anything. 

It feels a little like your head’s in the clouds, and you’re not sure if your eyes are still closed or if they’re open and you just can’t see anything. You have a feeling that not only can’t you hear the vampire, you can’t hear anything anymore.

Realizing that this is it, you try to call for him quietly to tell him so, but although you’re pretty certain you’re dying, for some reason, you don’t want to interrupt whatever he’s doing with his visitor.

“Fine, alright, I’ll talk to him, but please, this is not a good time.”

“But he’s being an ass, and you were the last person he spoke to before he left for fucking Iceland.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at his friend, Yuqi. With how much she and Taehyung love each other, there’s a surprising amount of drama. 

“I don’t wanna get involved. I’ll call him later.”

“Fine, get back to me after. If he doesn’t answer, I’m taking the first flight.”

“Vampire?”

Yuqi, who was just about to turn around to leave, stops in her tracks.

“What… was that?” she asks, standing still before discreetly scenting the air. “Is that… blood?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen. He’s used to smelling blood whenever you’re there to leave it, but not this much. Quickly, and without regard to Yuqi, he turns to rush back into his kitchen, eyes going even wider at the vision in front of him.

“Vampire?” you call out quietly again from the chair, eyes closed and unknowing of his return. You seem out of it, bordering on unconscious, and it’s not without reason. Jeongguk curses himself for not double checking the blood bag when he knows that brand is prone to ripping because the bag isn’t full; it’s broken, and your blood is dripping into a big puddle of red on the floor.

You think… you’re being… carried? By someone firm and… warm. You like that.

“I’m not warm," a low voice comments. "At least I’m not supposed to be.”

“I’m dying… right?” you mumble, feeling how the vampire puts you down on something soft.

“Probably, yeah.”

He does something to your arms, and you can’t figure out what, but you realize it has something to do with collecting the remaining blood when you’re gone.

There’s another voice.

Next time you open your eyes, you feel… different. And upset. You’re not as dizzy as you’ve become accustomed to, and the room doesn’t spin when you sit up on the bed. Your body hurts, but it feels more like you’re simply tired and beat than extremely weak. Most importantly, you feel, which means you’re not dead.

As if he could sense your awakening—or just possesses superhuman hearing—a door opens to reveal the vampire. He's wearing other clothes, grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his face doesn't give you anything.

“What happened?” you question, looking around the room that’s clearly a bedroom. “And where am I?”

“You passed out. There was a hole in the bag, so the blood was just leaking onto the floor. I had my friend steal some from the hospital, and I gave you a transfusion. Yuqi also brought some clothes and stuff for you, so you’re staying here at least until tomorrow. Then you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

“I… don’t understand. Why would you—why not just let me go then?”

“I changed my mind.”

You look at him, bewildered and trying to find the words. “What do you mean you changed your mind? We had an agreement?”

“I know, but I changed my mind. I’m not doing it. If the blood matters to you, the bags are in the freezer.”

“Why–what would I do with blood?” you question in frustration. Is he offering it back in case you want to drink it? Try to put it back inside your veins? Apparently, you’ve already had transfusions, so you have exactly zero use for frozen bags of blood. “Why can’t you just get on with it? Why not let me die?”

“I do not. Want. To,” he hisses.

You stare at him in silence, feeling confused and betrayed. He looks away but doesn't seem affected. No shame, no regret, no anything but a moment of frustration to breach otherwise calm determination.

“Here’s the stuff,” he gestures toward a duffel bag by the foot of the bed. “You have a bathroom right outside, and I’m gonna order some food for you. You should take it easy; I wasn’t able to give you as much blood as you really need, and unfortunately, what I’ve previously collected isn’t fit to give back. Since it’s been frozen and stored improperly for that kind of purpose, there would be a risk of clotting.”

You look at him from where you’re sitting on his bed, and he looks back at you. The irritation you feel grows beyond what you’re capable of conveying, and so it turns into defeat. It makes you angry, how he managed to back out of giving you what you wanted at the very last second. You spent months upholding your end of the deal, and when it finally came time for him to do the same, he didn’t. 

“Don’t bother,” you lie down slowly, your back facing him where he stands at the door. Silently, you curse your body for feeling so tired; ideally, you’d stomp out of there, slamming the door behind you. “I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

Your own clothes are still wearable. The few stains of blood are relatively small and dried, and the vampire already placed you on his bed, so you don’t feel like you’ll do any more damage by sleeping in them. The house is quiet, but you don’t think he’s left it, which begs the question of where he is. And also if he sleeps and if he does, then… where? He never gave you a tour or anything, so you have no idea what the rest of his house looks like. Whatever; you don’t care, anyway.

His sheets smell clean, though, and it doesn’t take you long to pass out, truly exhausted.

When you wake up, you can’t find your phone, and without any other time measuring device, you don’t know what time it is. It appears like the sun rose not too long ago so that narrows your guess a little bit at least.

Sitting up slowly, you take a deep breath. You feel… okay. A bit sore almost, but more energetic than you have in a while. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily a good thing in your book.

Sighing, you put your feet to the hardwood floor. They carry you with only a little dizziness, and you set your sight on the bedroom door. It opens smoothly, and you peer out, looking for the bathroom the vampire mentioned. There’s a door immediately to your left which you guess must be it, and so you head toward it. 

After successfully finding the bathroom and using it, you decide to continue the search for your phone. Since you thought last night would be your last and therefore arrived by Uber rather than driving, it means that without your phone, you have no way home.

You make your way down some stairs, recognizing the hallway as the one the vampire has led you through what feels like countless times. Last time you remember having your phone was in the kitchen, so that’s where you steer your steps.

As luck would have it, the kitchen is also where the vampire happens to be. Upon your entrance, your eyes immediately fall on the tall man where he stands, leaning back against the counter. Although he surely heard you approaching a long time ago, he only turns his head slowly toward you when you’re well into the room. He’s hard to read; doesn’t offer much.

“Do you know where my phone is?”

The vampire twists his body to look at the counter behind him, sliding something toward you. You take a step closer, inspecting the device when it’s in your hands. Three percent.

“Do you have a charger I can borrow?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod and pushes off the counter, leaving the kitchen. You wait, quietly wondering what exactly goes on inside his head. He seems unfazed by the whole ordeal, which doesn’t necessarily surprise you. But what you still don’t quite understand is why he claimed to have changed his mind. Could it be that he just didn’t want to deal with your body? 

The vampire returns with a white charger in his hand, his skin cold against yours when you accept it from him. Finding a fitting outlet near the table, you plug the charger in and sit down, gazing out through the window while you wait for the phone to charge enough for the trip home. The vampire has gone back to leaning wordlessly against the counter, and you ignore him.

Opening your phone, you find that the only unread notification you have is a spam email. Why are you surprised? With a small sigh, you lock the device again, hoping it’ll charge faster if you don’t use it. Forty percent should be enough.

It’s snowing outside, and you watch the big snowflakes fall slowly and silently to the already white ground. Waiting like this gives you time to go over all the things you’ve done wrong in your life.

Next time you unlock your phone, the battery has reached thirty-seven percent. You open the Uber app to see that a car can arrive in ten minutes. You confirm it, noting the time as eleven twenty-three. You’ll wait five more minutes before you start getting ready, which honestly is just putting your shoes and coat on. 

The seconds pass slowly one after the other. You wonder briefly how long it took the vampire to clean because, although you didn’t notice the blood dripping to the floor while it was happening, you understood that there was a lot of it. Must suck for him to have it wasted like that. The question is also why he would waste even more blood by giving you a transfusion? If he went through the pain of acquiring bagged blood, why not just drink that?

At eleven twenty-nine, your phone’s battery is at fifty-two percent. You unplug the charger from the wall, and as you stand, you place it on the table with a quiet ‘thanks.’

“Going home?” the vampire wonders, black eyes watching you. He looks casual, but there’s that hint of softness shining through again. 

You pass him on your way to the front door. “Yeah.”

“Reconsider,” he encourages, and you know he’s not talking about your journey home. 

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” he follows. “Whatever’s troubling you doesn’t matter. There’s so much for you to see and do, so many places to visit and people to meet. Your life is so incredibly short, and you won’t have time to see even a fraction of the world as is.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you say, bending down to put your boots on.

“Have you even been outside of this town?”

Why is he trying to control you? He doesn’t know you; he doesn’t care. It’s not like you’ll magically be fine after his ‘cheer up, pal,’ and ending your life is not a decision you have taken hastily or easily.

“No.”

“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?”

“Of course. But it’s not…” you straighten up to look at him, frustration dripping from your words. “Don’t you see that I’m all alone? I don’t have anybody, no one to experience things with, and much less the money to just up and leave. Sure, maybe I could get a loan and travel through Italy for two weeks, but then what? I’ll be miserable and in debt.”

The vampire tilts his head, looking at you with his black eyes but not saying anything. He just doesn't understand. You put your other foot into your boot and reach for your coat before he can try to persuade you again for whatever reason.

“Whatever,” you sigh, “I’ll be going.”

He doesn’t stop you from opening the door, and he doesn’t follow you when you leave, one boot undone and with your coat held to your chest. Irritation turns to sadness and defeat as you wait for the Uber to arrive, taking the opportunity to actually put your coat on and tie your laces properly. Snow falls around you, and when you're done, you stand there, waiting pathetically by the side of the road in the cold. You’re back at square one.

Despite having slept for countless hours at the vampire’s house, you head straight for your bed the moment you return home. For another few hours, you sleep, and then you spend a few more lying there in the dark, thinking. 

It’s seven p.m. on a Saturday. You’ve wasted a lot of time, months even, waiting for the vampire to get what he wanted and follow through on his part. But that’s over now, so what are you waiting for right now? 

Two and a half hours later, you put your boots back on and throw a lighter jacket over your shoulders, one that allows easier access to your neck.

Still not feeling your best, it takes you fifteen minutes to walk what the vampire did in six, carrying you on his back. You don’t understand him. He acted like he didn’t want you to die, but if he cared about you at all, he would’ve backed out earlier and not waited until his actions brought you within an inch of your life for what, the third time? Was he hoping you’d stay alive so that you’d hopefully continue donating your blood, even if less frequently? 

Although nearing his feeding grounds, you’re hoping not to run into him. He did state that he changed his feeding days to Thursdays, and last week, when you did run into him, it seemed like a coincidence. Besides, this place is your best bet tonight; even the vampire admitted that there were others there last time. Surely, they’re around here somewhere tonight as well. 

Since you assume vampires don’t want unnecessary attention, you stake out near the same club as last week, but this time, you hide in the shadows around a corner. Then, you wait for a victim.

Thirty minutes to midnight, a woman stumbles out through the door, a bouncer holding it open for her. She’s obviously had a bit to drink, and as she clumsily fixes her little cross body bag and sets off along the street, you look around from your hiding spot.

But you don’t see or hear anything; not a dark figure moving nor the sound of footsteps. Still, you follow her, hoping for the best. Wanting to keep your distance, you instead find it hard to keep up with her, which is saying something about your current health.

About two hundred meters from the club, she suddenly slows down, her attention seemingly drawn to something in an alleyway. You weren’t sure exactly how the vampires hunt, but by how the woman begins to slowly drift inside the dark alleyway of her own accord, you guess they do have some kind of pull. Most women, even when slightly drunk, typically try not to do… that.

You quicken your steps as much as possible without breaking into a sprint. Not only do you want to speak to a vampire; if you can take that woman’s place and leave her unscathed, it’s an added bonus. Before you’ve caught up, the woman slowly and quietly disappears, and when you turn the corner with your phone in hand and flashlight turned on, you spot a man holding her to his body. 

Evidently hearing you approaching, the man has placed them against the wall, halfway obscured by a dumpster and hoping you’d walk past them, which you would have if you weren’t so focused on the woman and your mission.

The man squints in the light, and you very clearly discern long fangs. You take another step into the alleyway, but what you didn’t expect was to be grabbed from another direction. 

Gasping, you feel strong arms hold your back against someone’s chest, effortlessly keeping you immobile. 

“What can we offer? Though you smell like vampire already?” The man who holds you says, sounding surprised, and your phone is taken from your hand and the flashlight turned off. 

Obviously, they assume you’re one of the freaky ones looking for vampires because any normal person would run. Your reason for wanting to find one is different, though. 

“I have a proposition,” you stutter, not too scared but uncomfortable with how the man noses at your neck. Despite knowing that if the vampire bites, it’ll most likely be your neck, you can’t help trying to pull away. It’s just another bodily reaction. 

Your words intrigue him, and he moves, creating just a tad bit more space between your bodies and looking down at you with a curious smirk.

“A proposition, you say?”

“You can have my blood—all of it—if you take it right here and now.”

“What’s the catch?” he asks, raising an eyebrow much like a certain vampire you know. “What’s in it for you?”

“There is no catch. I want to die.”

The other vampire, curiously listening to your conversation, whispers something in the other woman’s ear, and lets her go. She stumbles away from him and then casually leaves the alleyway, turning the corner calmly as if nothing happened. 

You meet the vampire’s puzzled yet curious eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with my blood if you think I’m trying to trick you into something. Except that it’s apparently B positive which I understand is not that desirable, but—”

“You’re Jeon’s human?”

“Uh—what? Who?” you ask, confused but slowly putting two and two together.

“Fuck, should we?” the other vampire questions quietly.

“Jeon,” the closest one to you starts, “is the vampire you smell of. He’s been very persistent no one touches his human.”

“Yeah. Can’t blame him. If I was lucky enough to have someone offer to be a walking blood bag, I wouldn’t let them outside at all.”

“I’m not… I’m not anyone’s, and I’m not a walking blood bag,” you explain, feeling belittled. “He made me a promise that he broke. He was going to help me die in exchange for my blood, but he just used me to collect blood, and then he didn’t deliver.”

The two vampires look at each other, and you feel like they didn’t really pay attention to anything you just said.

“I don’t know, man. I’m not sure I wanna get on his bad side.”

“But he’s too arrogant,” the first one complains. “If I want something, why should he prevent me from getting it? He doesn’t own the supply here. I’m a thousand years old; I shouldn’t need to ask for permission.”

“Dude’s like three thousand years old, though? You don’t need to ask permission; you can literally choose anyone. Except this one, for some reason. I don’t think I would if I were you.”

“Our agreement is over,” you try to enter the conversation the two vampires are holding over your head.

“Well,” the one holding your arms peers down at you, “He said that under no circumstances is anyone allowed to touch you.”

You scoff, growing irritated again, “Okay, well, are there any vampires around that aren’t such wimps? If I can’t find anyone to just snap my neck, I’m going to the train tracks and then my blood will be wasted.”

That’s a lie, of course. There’s a reason you picked death by vampire; you’re too scared to do it any other way, and no matter how much you want to die, you can’t subject anyone else—like a poor train driver—to it. Vampires are cold and heartless. They don’t care.

“Hold on. Wait,” the vampire holds you tighter when you haphazardly try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Look,” he says to the other, “He can’t tell us what to do. Besides, if he gets angry, we can just say that she said their agreement was over, and we did her a favor out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“You don’t have a heart; you just want to annoy him.”

The vampire grins. At first, it’s a boyish smile directed at his friend, but when he slowly tilts his head down to look at you, it turns almost sinister. “I think I’m gonna do it.”

You gulp. No matter how much this is what you want, it does scare you. Mostly because you’re afraid it will be painful.

“Is there a way you can kill me first? I don’t want it to hurt.”

The smiling vampire shakes his head. 

“No.”

You thought death was supposed to be a void. A void of darkness, devoid of physical matter, emotions, and thoughts. But it hurts. It hurts so much. 

Then, a void does take over.

Jeongguk knew you’d try again. If he wouldn’t kill you, you were going to find someone who would. And despite hoping that you would’ve changed your mind, he was unfortunately right. He spent an hour roaming the dark streets around the town’s attempt at a nightlife, but he didn’t come across you. Not until he visits the same place where you first found him, a place he wouldn’t take as your first choice since you ran into him there a week earlier. 

He’s spent hours and hours these last weeks with you on his mind; the little human who wants to die so badly. It’s just something about you and your willingness to die that doesn’t sit right with him, and you won’t leave his thoughts. It’s not his business, he told himself as he saw you curled up and unconscious in your car. Who is he to tell someone what they should do with their life? If anything, respecting your wishes and consuming freely donated blood is easier and more ethical than taking it from plastered people who aren’t really sure what’s going on, right?

The scenes replaying the most in his head are more recent. It’s the way you suggested he kill and butcher your body, saying no one would look for you anyway, and how you called for him, unknowing that your blood was dripping to the floor but still trying your hardest to squeeze that ball for him. Your fingers were barely moving, but you tried since he wanted that blood. 

He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, trying to convince you to live, but he guesses that he simply needs to know that you experienced some good things in life too. He can’t let you end it this way, as a lifeless body, discarded somewhere where no one will find you.

Anger, frustration, and an odd feeling of helplessness flood him as he takes in the sight of the vampire in the process of draining you dry. He rushes into the dark alleyway, the vampire looking up from your neck just as Jeongguk strikes. There’s not much of a fight after that. The first vampire stumbles backward, and Jeongguk grabs your lifeless body from him as the second vampire approaches, eyes wide and with his hands raised shoulder height.

“Easy, man.”

“I fucking told you to leave her alone.”

The dazed vampire grumbles something, but Jeongguk doesn’t pay him any attention. He places your body down on the snow-covered ground and looks at your pale face while searching for a pulse right under your jaw. 

“She wanted to die.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongguk growls. “How much did you take?”

There is no pulse.

“At least three fourths. Possibly more.”

Jeongguk shuts his eyes. There’s no coming back from that.

You’ve lost and regained consciousness due to blood loss one too many times by now, but this time, it really feels different. Opening your eyes, the sunlight filling the room irritates your eyes, forcing you to squint for a few seconds. 

Without moving, you focus on something. The vampire. Jeon, was it? You watch as he rummages through his closet, practically soundlessly, taking out a few items and looking them over before settling on what looks like two black shirts, one long-sleeve and one short-sleeve. Then he digs out a pair of shorts and another pair of sweatpants. 

You’re not used to seeing him in direct sunlight, but now, the rays filtering through the half-opened blinds paint him in a new light, and you let your eyes linger on his arms as he folds the clothes. The green t-shirt he wears is doing a great job at highlighting his veiny, muscular forearms as they work. Light and shadows play along those very defined muscles, accentuating them further.

Your first impression of him was a cold one, one that slowly warmed a little over time both physically and mentally. But in this light? Without even touching him, he looks… warmer to you. Inviting, almost like when he wore that black hoodie. 

You sigh quietly and pull the blanket that’s thrown over you closer. The vampire hears and turns around, placing the clothes at the foot of his large bed.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to consider his question. Though you’ve certainly felt better in a lot of ways, you don’t feel the way you’ve come to associate with severe blood loss. 

“Cold. And tired, but in a weird way.”

Weird is probably the best way to describe how you’re feeling in general. You feel light, but not weak. Tired, but not sleepy. 

He nods understandingly, “It’ll pass.”

You catch his gaze, holding it for a quiet moment. “You changed me, didn’t you?”

It’s the only explanation you can come up with. That vampire was hungry, and you remember slowly losing control in his grasp, both over your body and consciousness. With how many near-death experiences your body has endured in the last weeks—all blood loss related—there just wasn’t any chance you’d survive another draining.

“Yeah.” He looks away, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I couldn’t…”

You think you understand well enough what he’s trying to say, although you’re not too sure of his reasons or how to feel about it. He couldn’t let you die. In a way, you’re disappointed because you were finally getting what you wanted, and dying has proved itself to be surprisingly difficult for you. 

But you’re not angry; not like you were after the vampire saved you the first time. He mentioned once that not even vampires are immortal, so at least you know that you’re not doomed to an eternal life in suffering; you can always try again if you want. However, you’d be back at square one when it comes to options, but you don’t really feel the urgency anymore. At least not at the moment.

He turns his head toward you, meeting your eyes with his deep, dark ones. “Let me show the world to you.”

Surprised to say the least, you mumble a quiet “What?”

He angles his body further toward you, and you see that despite the softer look on his face, he’s certain. “I want to show you everything the world has to offer. All the good things; the magical places and people.”

Not sure what to say, you just stare at him.

“Vampires are not immortal,” he continues. “If you really don’t want this, I’ll help you die. I promised. But please, think about it. No catch, no expectations.”

“But why… Why would you want that?” 

You’ve been alone for so long, unable to keep people around and interested, so why would this being be?

“Because I found that I really didn’t enjoy draining you of your life, especially when you were already so low to begin with. I want you to get the chance to experience the good things life has to offer, and I can’t help but want to be around when you do.”

“You don’t know me though.”

“I kinda want to,” he says, standing up with the cheekiest smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Think about it, okay? I’m not expecting anything from you other than that you consider.”

Still very much processing his words, you feel a cold shiver wreck your body, something the vampire notices.

“I’ll get you another blanket. Your body is still in the process of changing, and with that comes a decrease in temperature. It’s normal to feel cold.”

He’s about to leave when you call for him.

“Wait. What… What's your name? Your given name?”

He stops, and he smiles again. “Jeongguk. And I know yours already; it was on your door.”

You sleep for a little while longer, but when you start to feel better, you also start to think. You’ve been so certain for so long, and you still are—you think—but… either way, you’d like some answers; a clearer view of the whole picture.

“Jeongguk?” you call, unsure how loud you need to be. It feels strange to use a name for the vampire.

It doesn’t take long before the door opens. “Yeah?”

“I have some… questions.”

He nods, stepping into the darkness that is his bedroom and closing the door behind him. 

“Light sensitive?” he nods toward the window, where you’ve pulled the curtains closed over the blinds.

“Yeah… Is that normal?”

“It is. So is feeling sensitive to sound, touch, smell; basically all the senses. But it will pass pretty quickly.”

“Okay. Well, can you… tell me everything about being a vampire? I didn’t think you slept, but you do? Or why do I still sleep?”

He rounds the bed to sit next to you, and you feel it sink as he gets comfortable. Slowly, you turn to face him, watching him lean back against the headboard.

“So, basically, we can do all the things humans do. For instance, you’re still programmed to breathe, but it’s more of a habit and a way to smell than a means of survival.”

While he speaks, you try it. It’s strange, holding your breath and not feeling that strong, strong urge to take in air after a while.

“You can eat human food, but it’s not what sustains you, so most vampires don’t. It gets kinda boring after a while; you’ll see what I mean. Most also don’t sleep as they consider it a waste of time, but you can if you want to. I do pretty regularly. I find it… peaceful, and when you get older, it can be nice, getting a break between days.”

Hearing him talk so casually and almost… softly has you smiling slightly, unable to help it. So he had been sleeping when you knocked on the door, and his hair was all messy, and he looked so cuddly? You don’t know why, but you like that thought.

“You can exist in sunlight, you can consume garlic. Mirrors work for us as well. We don’t age like humans, but we can die if we’re pierced through the heart by something wooden—”

“—You mean staked?”

He looks at your wide, amused eyes and rolls his. “Yeah. Staked. Anyway, you’ll notice that your senses are heightened, and you’ll become stronger too. Not stronger than me, though,” he grins. “As for the blood, you can survive on any.”

“Any?”

What does he mean by that? Human and animal?

“Human, animal, vampire,” he says, the last one surprising you.

You blink, taken aback. “Vampires drink from other vampires?”

“We can. It’s not as common as feeding on humans as it’s mostly… a pretty intimate thing to do.”

“Oh, okay.” 

Thinking about it, you guess you can see why. Having someone so close, feeding on you without the power imbalance of prey versus predator that feeding on humans entails, must feel… intimate. More of a give and take. 

“You’ll need to feed in about a day or two, so you can choose. I have more human blood than just yours as it might be weird to drink your own blood, and I can get animal blood if that feels easier. Or… if you want to, you can drink from me.”

You look at him questioningly. “Didn’t you just say that it’s an intimate thing?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but if it would make for an easier transition for you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken a lot of blood from you, after all.”

“Okay,” you nod, briefly biting your lip. “I’ll think about it. About all of… this.”

Is death the thing you wanted above all else, or was it to get out of the life you were living? Now that your old life is, in a way, over, you’re not sure. Regardless, there are other worries still plaguing you. You look—almost stare—at his pretty face. 

“What?”

You bite your lip nervously again. “What if you change your mind? I’m assuming this was quite a rushed decision on your part. What if I don’t live up to your expectations? I barely knew how to navigate this world as a human, there’s no way I could… manage on my own as… as a vampire.”

Say you decide to give it a shot; what do you do if he grows tired of you?

“Changing someone is not something we take lightly. We don’t…” he looks around, seemingly searching for the right words. “We don’t change anyone if we’re not prepared to guide them, at least through the first years. Usually, vampires only end up turning their romantic partners, so for most, it means staying together for life. Regardless, it’s a big decision.”

Noticing your wide eyes, Jeongguk smiles and chuckles. “I’m not saying you have to hang around me for the rest of your life, and I won’t ask you to play my wife or anything, but I won’t abandon you.”

It’s surprising enough to hear that vampires not only regularly fall in love with humans but take changing someone so seriously. But you’re even more surprised to hear him use the word ‘wife.’

“Your wife?” you ask, truly bewildered that word was even in his thoughts. “You said vampirism doesn't make you much prettier?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “It doesn’t. But you didn’t need to become prettier anyway.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m telling the truth? Don’t you remember what I told you when I carried you home that night?”

‘You’re a pretty girl, you know?’

Of course you remember, but it doesn’t mean it was true.

You roll your eyes. “You were feeling bad for me.”

“Hm,” Jeongguk looks away, thinking. “Okay, do you remember the very first thing I said to you?”

“That you weren’t going to turn me?”

“For sex, yeah. But I said I’d still fuck you.”

The smile he gives you reminds you more of the vampire that took your blood once every fortnight than the one who saved you. You don’t know what to say, and he seems to realize that, his smile turning softer.

“Like I said, I would’ve fucked you because you were pretty even as a human. Also, about luring said humans in? You will not have a problem with that if that’s something you’re interested in. I kinda want to see you do that, actually,” he grins, sending a shiver down your spine. “Hot.”

Jeongguk is sitting spread out on the rented apartment’s low couch, reading the back of a bottle of red wine when you pass him. It’s hot—a lot warmer than what you’re used to from your little hometown—and you sigh as you open the door to the balconet wider and fresh air starts to play with your dress. The weather doesn’t affect you like it used to, but some aspects are still more enjoyable than others. 

“I think I like Rome,” you place your hands on the railing, looking down at the scene two stories below you. It’s just after ten p.m., and people are dining outside the restaurant below you, their happy chatter accompanied by the romantic sound of street musicians. The air is humid, and besides the moonlight, the street is mainly illuminated by lights from the restaurant and surrounding shops.

You hear Jeongguk put the bottle down on the glass coffee table and stand up, something your human ears wouldn’t have picked up.

“We can stay longer if you want,” he offers quietly from right behind you.

Turning around, you let your gaze travel over his white dress shirt, held together by two single buttons—the rest lazily unbuttoned—and exposing most of his drool-worthy chest. He smirks, looking down at you, and you’re hit by how he hasn’t changed that much since you first met him in that alley. You’ve just gotten to see more sides of him.

You hold your breath, carefully reaching your hand out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between your thumb and index finger, pulling a little on it and nodding.

“Then we’ll stay,” he smiles, slowly stepping back and taking your hand softly in his. His skin feels warm against yours, and it’s almost like some sort of electric current courses through you. You grin as he pulls you toward him, moving to the slow and sensual music drifting up from outside.

Jeongguk lifts your hand above your head and twirls you. It makes you smile even wider, and you decide to place your arms loosely around his neck. He doesn’t object, just looks down at you, still smiling. 

One thing you'll never get used to is how handsome he is. Soft, black hair parted across his forehead, dark eyebrows and eyes, and a dimple that pops out when he smiles. One day, you’ll kiss his nose, you promise yourself. He looks so carefree, peering down at you like nothing else really matters; a mindset not too difficult to follow with him.

“How come everything is so… easy?”

He tilts his head, trying to make sense of your words as he places his hands on your waist. “Well… do you feel cared for?”

You think about it. All the new people—vampires—you’ve met so far are very funny and kind. They see you, and they listen to you. Especially Jeongguk’s friends, and even more so, Jeongguk. He’s easy to be around, and he’s been incredibly sweet to you, understanding that you’re going through a big change and that your previous life wasn’t all that great.

So you nod.

“Do you have anything that worries you?” He continues. “A looming anxiety regarding something?”

“No.” Turns out that Jeongguk and all his friends are filthy rich and also very generous, which means that you have no rent to pay, no stuff to buy, or bills to pay. Nor do you have people to impress or time-sensitive achievements to stress over.

Jeongguk’s smile turns extra cheeky. “Do you perhaps… also care a little bit for someone?”

You’d blush if that was something you could do. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles before he turns a little more serious. “Jokes aside, there could be many reasons. Like I said, not feeling lonely or overly anxious surely helps a lot, but also stuff like… the change of scenery and seasons. But also…”

“Also…?”

He looks at you with a searching gaze, as if he’s trying to figure something out. “Tell me, did you ever see someone about how you felt?”

You shake your head.

“So you never got a diagnosis or medication?”

“No.”

“Then, maybe… you weren’t ‘only’ sad, and vampirism corrected some chemical imbalance in your brain. It could also explain why things are easier.”

Maybe. You thought that your mother dying was the catalyst for your sadness, and without seeing the point of the world, you got “weirder,” and the few people in your life withdrew. Then it was just you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t connect with people anymore. But maybe, like he said, it wasn’t ‘only’ feelings. A small part of you wishes you would’ve tried to get help, but a bigger part—although sad for the years you spent suffering—thinks this ending might be better.

He continues to sway your bodies, and you rest your head against his chest. When you left with him three months ago, one month after he changed you, you weren’t entirely certain where things would lead, because despite definitely feeling attracted to him, you didn’t really know him. But as the days pass, you don’t regret it, and you’re pretty sure you’re more than halfway to head over heels. You can’t deny that he gives you butterflies.

Sighing, you catch the scent of his naked skin against your cheek, reminded of something.

“You smell good. I remember thinking that you didn’t smell like anything?”

He laughs as you move your face slowly over his chest and up to his neck, smelling him.

“Do I?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing him in and closing your eyes. There’s the same notes of laundry detergent, soap, and cologne, but also something unique to him. He doesn’t smell like a human, but… almost. It draws you in, that’s for certain.

“Are you hungry?” he wonders quietly. 

“Not sure,” you answer honestly. It’s turned out to be harder to tell than you imagined.

“Well, if you want it… go for it.”

“Like this?” you ask, pushing on his chest with a smile. He lets you walk him slowly back toward the couch, and when the back of his knees hit the edge, he sinks down onto it. 

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

High on the vampire equivalent of adrenaline, you straddle his lap, only to be caught off guard by his scent again. “No, but really, you smell so good.”

He chuckles. “Vampires who are more… compatible tend to smell good to each other.”

His revelation has you sitting back, curious but almost a little worried. Despite the details of your relationship being... a bit unclear—mostly due to his unwillingness to pressure you, you think—you can't help but want him to like you. “Does that mean that I smell good to you as well then? I mean, I remember that you didn’t like my blood?”

“You smell incredible to me. Almost addictive,” he reveals quietly, softly, resting his hands on your thighs, and you think your human heart would’ve raced. “And about your blood… I lied.”

Though grinning happily, there’s at least a trace of regret in his eyes.

“You lied? About not liking my blood?”

“Yeah. B is actually one of the more highly regarded blood types. I’m also B, but negative.”

You shake your head at him before carefully leaning in. With a soft touch of your lips, you locate the pulsating artery in his neck, gently angling his head away with your hands. Then, as you’ve done regularly for the last months, you pierce his skin with your fangs.

“I’m kinda surprised you still believed I didn’t like your blood,” he continues, though it sounds a little strained, like he’s trying to keep still. “If I didn’t like your blood, I wouldn’t have needed to change my feeding days to the day before you came. Nor would I have tried to attack you.”

You listen to his words, but you’ll have to process them better later because his blood is pretty much the only thing on your mind. His blood and his body. It took you a few times to get over the mental association with blood and drinking it, but now, it’s not something bad. It tastes and feels good, energizing you in a way food just doesn’t anymore. And it’s a chance to bond, making you feel closer to him. 

He likes it too, if his body language is anything to go by. You know he tries to stay still to give you the best chance to get what you need without distractions, but the little… almost purring sound that reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest is hard to miss. As is the way his hips shift almost unnoticeably, but you haven’t spoken about that.

Being smaller and recently changed, you don’t require nearly as much blood as he does, and as soon as you feel the urge filled, you run your tongue over the wound to close it, just like he’s taught you to.

“Good?” he asks when you pull back, and you nod, licking your lips. 

You keep your eyes on his skin, knowing that it only takes a second for the wound to heal but up to two weeks for the scar from another vampire's teeth to fade to nothing. 

“All of the vampires we’ve met, they’ve looked so… amused when they understand I drink from you. Why is that? I get that it’s ‘intimate’ but they were pretty much all couples, weren’t they? Not that we’re… you know…”

You haven’t spoken about that, either, really.

It confused you, more so since you last week stumbled across a local couple smiling very cheekily when they saw the scar on Jeongguk’s neck that he’d made absolutely no effort to conceal.

He laughs. “It’s because only I have marks.”

You look puzzled. Yeah, sure, but you don’t understand why that would be amusing.

He looks at your confused face and continues. “The fact that you drink from me but not I from you usually means that I’ve submitted to you. That I belong to you. Which is not very common when I’m so much older than you. It’s usually the other way around if anything.”

“Oh,” you exclaim quietly, lifting your hand to your neck. “Should I…? Do you… want to feed from me? Cause I’m not sure that I…”

You don’t like the idea of losing blood. You know that Jeongguk has said that as a vampire, you quite literally can’t run out, but you don’t like it. Thinking about someone biting your neck has images from the night you died flashing before your eyes. You don’t remember much,  but you remember being scared and how much it hurt. Surely, it would be different to let him bite you, but… you don’t know. You can’t help but feel like maybe you should? Don’t you kind of owe it to him?

“I want to, of course I do, but not that badly. I get that it’s an uncomfortable concept for you, so that’s why I haven’t brought it up. If you ever feel comfortable enough, we can try, because it’s very hot, but otherwise, it doesn’t matter.”

You lower your hand, smiling carefully down at him. He runs his hands over your thighs softly.

“So, you’re really just… ancient?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah? You’re literally older than Jesus?”

He rolls his eyes, still smiling.

“Jokes aside, doesn’t it get boring? You were kinda grumpy when I first met you.”

“Truth be told, it does. I’ve seen everything, mostly even many times over. But getting to see everything with you is like getting to experience it for the first time all over again.”

“That’s kinda… cheesy,” you chuckle, but you can’t deny that it makes you feel warm inside. “Yuqi said you probably needed a change of scenery as well.”

“So what if it’s cheesy? It’s true," he grins, and it's your turn to roll your eyes. "And, yeah, she might’ve been right. I guess vampires get lonely too sometimes.”

Although he's still smiling, you can't help but hurt a little, thinking about him feeling lonely too.

“So then, what’s next?" you ask. "When do we leave for Portugal?”

“Depends on when you want to. I’ll just tell Taehyung we’ll meet them later. As for now, you know Fontana di Trevi?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna take a dip?”

“What? Isn’t it pretty shallow? And probably… illegal?”

“What are they gonna do? Stop us?” He smiles a wide, happy smile, his white fangs almost glimmering in the romantically dimmed light.

<previous | next> author's note: i hope you liked it!! please reblog if you did <3<3<3

[gotta-winwin]

2019 debut year <> you do too much

word count: 3.7k TW: body image, overworking, swearing, angst italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin

౨ৎ ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ

Cyana never meant for it to get this far.

It had started off pretty mild, she'd wake up earlier than usual, take a morning run to the company and get a head start on practice. She'd stay later than the others too, insisting they go home without her and that she'd join them a bit later. Just one more time, she'd say, as she cued up the song once again. Just one more time, she'd say again after that, and by then it would already be close to midnight.

She stared at herself in the mirror, shaking with frustration and fatigue. Her chest heaved harshly as she tried desperately to calm her breath.

Hoshi shot her a worried glance. "Nana, take a break."

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Practice is done anyways. The car's ready, pack up." He grabbed her hand to drag her towards their things.

Cyana shook her hand out from his grasp, shooting him a tired smile. "You can go first, Soonie. I'll stay a little bit longer. I want to try Getting Closer again."

Hoshi frowned at her words. "We've already stayed late, nana-yah. Everyone's already left. And you've been staying late for the past two weeks. Let's take a break, okay?"

She shook her head stubbornly. "It's fine, really."

He looked at her apprehensively, not quite believing her. Sighing, he reluctantly agreed, knowing there was no stopping her. "Please be home by at least two am."

She nodded absentmindedly, already turning back around to cue up the track. She made sure Hoshi really had left before continuing, concentrating on perfecting her angles and facial expression. She had failed the company test - when the higher-ups came and decided she wasn't good enough - her ego burned from the hit and she vowed to work even harder. The members had told her she was already amazing, but she couldn't believe them if the company officials didn't think so.

She hadn't told any of the boys she hadn't been returning home. Most of her essentials were stored safely in one of the drawers in their practice room - saving her both the time and energy it took to return home. This way she could wash up and change before immediately getting back to practice.

"Oh, Jeonghan oppa." She answered when he called her phone.

"Nana, where are you?" His voice sounded muffled and tired. "Hoshi texted and said you're still at the company."

She checked the time. 3:26 AM. "Oh. I decided to crash at Mingyu's place." She lied, wincing. She hated lying to him whenever he called to check in. It was pure luck that no one really ever confirmed with Mingyu that she had actually been staying over. "I'm about to go to sleep. You should too, oppa."

She heard Jeonghan sigh in relief. "Okay, good. Goodnight, Nana." He hung up, probably way too tired.

Placing her phone back down on the floor, she glanced once again at the time. It was late. Her body was sore and she was starting to feel a little dizzy. Dragging her feet towards the connected washroom, she was glad they'd installed showers. Cleaning herself up and changing, she returned back to the practice room and crashed on the couch. Just a couple hours, she thought to herself.

"Cyana."

She opened her eyes, squinting at the brightness and letting out a groan. "What time is it?"

A very confused Dino stared back at her. "7 AM." He helped her to sit up, frowning when he saw her wince. "Why are you sleeping here?"

Her eyes widened when she remembered where she was. She inwardly kicked herself for oversleeping. Usually she was able to wake up, get ready and change before everyone else began arriving. They always just assumed she had been the first to arrive. "I-" Feeling rather caught, Cyana could only stare up at Dino wordlessly.

He seemed to catch on rather quickly. "Cyana." He looked at her, disappointment written plainly across his face. "Have you been living here?"

"No!" She protested, knowing he'd 100% tell Jeonghan if she admitted to it and Jeonghan would 100% kill her. "I was just practicing last night and fell asleep, that's all."

He gave her a weird look. "Alright, just-" He sighed. "You really don't need to be pushing yourself so hard. You're already ready."

Cyana gave him a hard stare. Perhaps it was the pain or the lack of sleep, but her nerves were wearing thin. She pushed herself off the couch, walking to the washroom. Splashing water on her face, she attempted to wake herself up.

"Please don't tell the others." She begged Dino once she returned. "Please please please." He looked unconvinced. "Please." She said again. "They'll kill me and you know it."

He sighed. "Fine." He pointed a finger at her, his poor attempt at being stern. "But you've got to promise me it's the last time."

"Got it." She promised, although she knew she'd probably end up breaking it. "Thanks, Chan."

He laughed softly, wrapping his arms gently around her waist, frowning when he felt how skinny she had gotten. He was about to comment on it when the practice doors opened and a hoard of members rushed in, all still slightly half-asleep.

"Aigoo~" Seungkwan cooed at the position they'd caught them in. "Our maknaes are so cute."

Dino flushed, trying to pull away but pausing when he realized Cyana was leaning on him, her eyes closed.

"Is she okay?" Jun mumbled, sipping on his ice coffee and glancing at the girl.

"Hm?" Cyana opened an eye, jumping a bit at the sudden appearance of so many people. "Oh! You're all here."

"Yup." Vernon walked over, ruffling her hair. "You ready?"

She sighed, reluctantly detaching herself from Dino, shivering at the loss of his body heat. "I guess."

Jeonghan had thought something was off from the way Cyana sounded over the phone. She sounded sick and incredibly out of it, her words slurring slightly as she spoke to him. He would've pressed the girl for more answers, but Hoshi's text had woken him up mid-sleep and he was aching to the state of passing out.

Even as they started practice, Jeonghan's mind drifted from the choreo over to Cyana. His mental list of things wrong with her had been gradually growing over the week and he was getting concerned.

Jeonghan's mental list with things that are wrong about Cyana:

She's been saying over at Mingyu's a suspicious amount. Sure, he could understand, the Minwon residence was easily the quietest out of the bunch, and Mingyu was Cyana's closest friend. He figured Wonwoo was in his room most times anyways.

The amount of canceled plans the boys have been complaining about to him was increasing. It felt like every couple days, at least one member would approach him requesting a therapy session, where they just complained about how Cyana was ditching them for their usual hangouts.

He rarely ever saw the girl anywhere but the company. Under any other circumstance it would've been normal, but Cyana had expressed before she hated the feeling of captivity the company gave her.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her eat something.

He could've continued listing reasons in his head, had it not been for the loud thud and a piercing screech that followed it. He froze mid dance move and spun towards the noise.

Cyana was on the floor, Woozi a mere step away from her as he crouched down to examine her. DK was apologizing for the loud scream, although he continued to panic loudly.

"I think she fainted." Woozi concluded, voice calm. His furrowed eyebrows were the only sign he was worried.

"Fainted?" DK gasped out loud.

Mingyu reached down and scooped the girl into his arms, depositing her on the couch. "Yeah, she's out."

"Is she injured?" Seungcheol asked, hovering over her as Mingyu checked. He sighed with relief when Mingyu shook his head. "It was a loud thud."

Jeonghan let out a groan of both realization and disappointment.

"What." Seungcheol whipped his head around at the sound of Jeonghan's groan. "Do you know something?" He pointed at Cyana, who was still laying limply on the couch, head supported by Mingyu's large hand. "Why is she like this?"

Jeonghan raised his hands in defence. "I only suspected. I mean- I thought it was weird she was sleeping over at Mingyu and Wonwoo's so often recently but-"

"What?" Wonwoo cut him off. "She hasn't been over since-" He flushed at the memory. "Since she hurt her ankle."

And all at once, the pieces seemed to fall into place in Jeonghan's mind.

"She's been living here, hasn't she." Dino beat him to the punch, stating what he had just realized. "I found her here asleep when I came in this morning."

They all turned to Seungcheol, who seemed to be at a loss for words, staring at Cyana.

Cyana awoke just in time to see Seungcheol leave, the practice room door swinging shut behind him. She struggled to get up, as strong hands grabbed her and situated her to lean back. A bottle of water was shoved wordlessly into her hands by Vernon, already opened.

"You scared us." Mingyu muttered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She was vaguely aware of the other boys standing around her. Her ears still rang but she could faintly hear Woozi talking to Jun.

"I swear I tried to catch her. I didn't let her drop on purpose." He was defending himself to a wary Jun. "I'm not that mean."

She would have smiled at how defensive he sounded had it not been for the glowering face of Jeonghan, who was staring holes into her skull.

"Everyone out, please." Jeonghan signalled the others to give them the room. He sat down next to Cyana, letting out a loud sigh once everyone had left.

She knew she was in for it now.

"You wanna tell me what's been going on?" He said quietly, rubbing the seam of her sleeve between his thumb and index finger. "No lies this time."

She felt a lump form in her throat. "Jeonghan-"

"I'm not mad, Cyana." He looked at her sadly. "I just want to know why you haven't been taking care of yourself."

On any other occasion, she would have argued that he was mad. He hadn't used 'Nana' when saying her name.

"You haven't been staying at Mingyu's, I know that for a fact. And you've been canceling plans with the members. You also haven't been eating well. Jun says you rarely take the breakfast he sets aside for you." He continued, frowning when he saw her eyes well up with tears.

"I'm sorry." It was all she could muster.

"I don't care that you lied, Cyana." Jeonghan wiped her tears away with the pad of his thumb. "Just tell me why. Are we doing something wrong?"

She shook her head frantically. "No." God no.

"Then why?"

She finally looked up from her lap to see him, feeling an ache in her chest when she saw how desperate his expression was.

"The company officials-" She paused, and Jeonghan nodded for her to go on. "they said I wasn't good enough. Not quite good enough to debut with seventeen. They said they had a lot bet on me but I was disappointing them."

She got worried when he stayed silent. "Oppa?" She whispered, reaching out tentatively to shake him.

He laced his hand in hers before she could reach him. "I'm sorry they said all that." He turned to look at her, a serious expression taking over his face. "But you know they're wrong, and even if you think they're right, you shouldn't have risked your own health like that."

Cyana nodded. "I know. I just-" She tried to find the words to explain. "I just wanted to debut so badly. I wanted to look good onstage next to all of you." It was a lame explanation but it was the best she could give.

"I know." Jeonghan nodded. "And you will." He pointed at the large mirrors on the wall in front of where they sat. "I watch you dance with us everyday through those mirrors. And you look beautiful. Full of talent and raw power."

She let out a shaky breath.

"Is that why you haven't been eating your meals?" He asked, looking back at her. "Did they say something about that too?"

She nodded. It was perhaps the comment that had hurt her the most. "They said I looked too heavy. That I was supposed to be a girl member. Not a boy."

Jeonghan let out a huff. "Who the fuck-" He muttered, almost to himself. "Give me the names of the people, I'll talk to them."

Cyana smiled despite the heavy setting. "They're higher-ups, Hannie. You can't do anything."

"Psh." Jeonghan waved away her concern. "Still. I'll write their names down and get rid of them once we're big enough."

She supposed she admired his optimism. "Okay." She relented. "I'll find their names and text them to you."

Jeonghan leaned his head on the crook of her shoulder, slouching a bit to reach it. "You know we love you, right?"

She didn't say anything.

"You don't have to believe it now." He said softly. "I know you're a bit weird about stuff like that." He squeezed her hand firmly. "Just need you to hear it."

She nodded. "Okay."

They sat in silence for awhile, and Cyana's ears stopped ringing. "Where did Seungcheol-oppa go?" She whispered, curious but not wanting to ruin the peacefulness of the moment.

Jeonghan cracked an eye open from his spot on her shoulder. "He's dealing with it his own way."

"Dealing with what?"

He sat up straight to look at her. "You fainting. He's our leader, he's going to feel the responsibility."

She frowned. "It's not his fault though."

Jeonghan shrugged. "It's just how he works. He's going to blame himself for not noticing it all sooner either way. Even if it's not his fault."

She stood up, swaying a bit before steadying herself. "I'm gonna go look for him, is that okay?"

She could swear Jeonghan was smirking a little. "I think he'd like that."

She found him in one of the empty studios. Seungcheol was sitting on one of the chairs when she walked in, head in his hands. He got up quickly once he heard the sound of her footsteps.

"Cyana." He breathed out, thankful she was okay. "How are you feeling?"

"Better." She whispered, sitting down and motioning gently for him to join her. She watched him hesitate before he sat down next to her.

"You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard." Seungcheol scolded her.

"I know."

"And you should've told someone you weren't going back to the dorm. You should've let me know how much you were struggling."

"I know."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Tell me what happened. Everything leading up to today. I assume this has been going on for awhile."

She could tell from his face he meant business, so she told him without a fight. She recited everything - the skipped meals, the ditching hangouts, the sleeping in the practice room, the toothbrush and skincare hidden in the drawers - all of it. She saw his face twist in pain when she got to the part about the company officials.

"You should've told me." He whispered, once she was all done.

"I thought perhaps you didn't want to know." She admitted.

He looked astonished she would even say such a thing. His mouth opened and closed again as he reconsidered his choice of words. "I'm your leader, Cyana. I care about this team."

"And I'm doing my job." She said, not getting what he meant. Wasn't SEVENTEEN doing quite well? And the team would do even better if she was perfect for the comeback.

Seungcheol didn't know if he wanted to strangle her and cry. "Let me reiterate." He looked at her. "I care about you, Cyana. Not the comeback."

She blinked. "Oh."

He felt more like crying, Seungcheol decided. She looked so fragile and confused at the mere thought of him even caring about her. A burning sense of rage fuelled through him. Who on earth had taught her to be so skeptical of care and love?

Cyana panicked when she saw the tears in Seungcheol's eyes. "Please don't cry." She whispered frantically, not knowing what would happen to her if she saw the dependable and strong Seungcheol break down.

"Our maknae~" Seungcheol whispered back, reaching over to brush his hand against her cheek. "Maybe I didn't do well enough, to show you you belong here. I tried being a strong leader, guiding everyone through the comeback, letting you adjust to how busy life in SEVENTEEN can be. But maybe you needed more of a gentle touch? Something more personal?" At this point he seemed to be talking to himself. "I know I didn't really take the time to connect with you on a deeper level like the others did. I was so focused on guiding you through work. I must've done something wrong, if you felt like you needed to hide this much from me. Push yourself this far."

Cyana's lips trembled as she desperately held back tears. "It's not your fault."

"It is." Seungcheol corrected her quietly. "I always strived to be a leader you could tell anything to." He paused, looking at her with sad eyes. "I'm sorry you felt the need to break yourself so much to make this comeback happen. I'm sorry the company said such harsh things. I should've noticed."

Cyana felt the sudden strong urge to give him a hug. It confused her. She only ever felt comfortable enough to initiate any sort of contact with Jeonghan, Dino, Joshua or Mingyu. Yet, when Seungcheol finished his speech and looked at Cyana with those sad, wide eyes, she decided perhaps she could make an exception. She leaned slightly in his side, stiffing slightly when his arms wrapped around her frame.

"It's not your fault." She managed to say again, telling herself to relax into his hold.

"I know it's not logical."

Cyana let out a breathy laugh. "I am sorry I lied to Jeonghan."

"I know." Seungcheol pulled her a little closer. "Please don't ever do this again. All of it. You're much more important than a silly comeback."

She nodded. "I won't."

"I'll talk with the company about the whole test thing. They shouldn't have done that, or said those things. And you need to start eating." Now that he was hugging her, he could feel just how malnourished she was. He felt as if he could accidentally snap her just by moving the wrong way. "I'll talk to the stylists too. Everyone needs a good reminder that you're part of SEVENTEEN forever."

Cyana's face flushed. "I'm sorry." She mumbled again, feeling bad for making him so worried. "I didn't know it'd hurt you so much."

Seungcheol let her go, giving her a sad look. "I hated seeing you like that. You were so pale and fragile."

She didn't know what to do with the amount of loving words she was receiving today. She looked away awkwardly. "I'll be more careful now, I promise."

She could hear the smile that overtook his face despite not looking at him. "Good." He said. "Start getting it into your head that you're important."

Both Jeonghan and Seungcheol monitored her as she cleared out her drawer and any other sign that she had been living in the practice room. She promised them both that she'd return everything back home and that she'd keep them there.

"You scared me." DK whined. "I thought you'd died."

Cyana was grateful at how lighthearted the atmosphere was once her and Seungcheol had returned to the practice room. Everyone was still obviously worried, but they seemed to have all decided not to sour the mood further. Everyone had noticed the watery eyes from both Cyana and Seungcheol as they returned but pretended not to.

"I'm sorry~" Cyana smiled at DK's dramatics.

"Ah, hyung- it was your scream that scared me the most." Dino butted in, cackling at the memory. "I was mid move and I heard a blood-curdling cry. I thought I was in a horror movie."

The others laughed along, each of them relating to the younger boy.

Joshua sidled up to Cyana amidst the chaos Dino's remark had brought, holding her waist to support her as his eyes roamed her face for any sign of lingering fatigue. "You sure you're alright?"

Cyana nodded, grateful for the warmth radiating from his body. "Yeah. Sorry."

He shook his head. "No more apologizing. Just join Hoshi, Seungkwan, Myungho and I for dinner later today, okay? We're going to check out this new restaurant Hoshi found online."

"Okay."

From the other side of the room, Seungcheol clapped for everyone's attention. "Okay! We're resuming practice!" He looked at Cyana. "You're going home." He pointed at her. "Don't argue with me."

"What?" She protested. She was feeling fine. "I'm fine!" She insisted.

Her remark was met by a roomful of protests, even Woozi and Wonwoo joined in as everyone told her to get the fuck home.

"No really!" She protested again once the noise died down. "Please, Coups-oppa. I won't push myself too hard, promise."

She watched him think it over. She could practically see it as he fought himself. "Fine." He finally relented. "But-"

She paused her celebration.

"You're sitting out for practice. You can watch and take notes, but no dancing."

She sighed, but she knew it was the best she was getting out of him. "Fine."

As she sat on the couch, notebook in hand as she took notes on the performance, she couldn't help but glance towards their leader. He was working hard, giving 120% like he did with everything he put his mind to. She felt a glow of gratitude towards him. For a second, she allowed herself to believe that perhaps she did belong here, with these people. And perhaps him and Jeonghan were right - those people had just been mean and she was already good the way she was.

author's note: wahhhh thank you so much for reading! this one was quite a ride - writing about scoups as the leader always sends tears to my eyes, we truly don't deserve him. next fic is cyana's debut fic (finally!)

[ebsmind]

TO BE A WOMAN ✿ charles leclerc x f1 driver!reader

summary : being the first female driver is never easy, especially when there’s rumors saying you’re sleeping around with the charles leclerc to get yourself to the top.

fc : mikey madison

warning(s) : swear words, misogynistic comments (ew),

a/n : user4 from the first post you have my heart ♥️ AND i will be doing a part 2!!

cl16 masterlist | main masterlist

liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc and others

ynuser ‘tis the new season 🏎️

tagged : @/redbullracing

user1 THATS MY GIRL!!!!

user2 her and max are going to be unstoppable!!!! I WILL BET MONEY IDC

redbullracing We’re so happy to have you for this season and 3 more after! let’s get p1 & p2 baby!! 💙❤️💛

ynuser thank you for believing in me 🤍

maxverstappen1 💪💪💪

lewishamilton proud to be rivals with a badass like you! you’re gonna kill it this season!!

urbsfuser IM SO PROUD I COULD CRY 🥹

user3 why is she in this sport lol

user4 why tf not?? it’s 2023 gtfo u misogynist

user5 women SHOULD not be in men dominated sports

user4 OH NOT YOU TOO GO SUCK A DICK

charles_leclerc cheers to a new season mon trésor!!

user5 ur so down bad for her omg

urmomuser My love!! I can’t wait to see what this season does for you!! Always remember mama loves you! ❤️❤️❤️

ynuser crying. i love you mom ❤️

user6 pls break the second driver curse 🙏

ynuser on it 🫡

user6 OMG???????

oscarpiastri why couldn’t you have gone to mclaren 😔

lando HELLO?? IM RIGHT HERE??

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liked by f1, redbullracing and others

ynuser BAHRAIN!! you were amazing!! P2 baby!! never give up! 🐆

tagged : @/redbullracing

user1 MAX P1 AND Y/N P2 LIFE IS GOOD 🙌

user2 wait why the cheetah emoji??

user3 so yk how max is the lion, since shes 2nd overall everyone in the padlock is calling her a cheetah now , especially after that comeback from 11th to 2nd place!!

redbullracing What an amazing start to the season!! ❤️

redbullracing 🐆🐆🐆

maxvertsappen1 LFG!! The lion and cheetah are UNSTOPPABLE!!

❤️ by creator

user4 she probably slept her way into this damn sport

user5 your wife wishes she married someone as rich as the drivers too bad ur probably a couch potato

user6 I LOVE WOMEN!!!!

charles_leclerc i wasn’t able to finish the race but seeing you do it was amazing! I couldn’t be more proud! 🐆❤️

ynuser love you charles 🤞🏼

user7 charles loves her sm omg

user8 she probably only talks to these men so she can get laid

user9 what the fuck is wrong with you???

f1 Starting and breaking world records!! We ❤️ to see it coming 💪

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liked by redbullracing, maxverstappen1 and others

ynuser how halfway through the season got me feeling like

tagged : @/redbullracing, @/maxverstappen1

maxvertsappen1 I need a nap

ynuser okay sleeping beauty 💁‍♀️

charles_leclerc max is all of us right now

❤️ by creator

user1 did max die????

user2 you and max carrying f1 on ur backs so hard rn

user3 you deserve this 3 week break

redbullracing We’ll send you and max to the spa 🧖🧖‍♀️

lando let’s go get pedicures

ynuser last time we went you couldn’t stop laughing.

lando i’ll hold it in this time i promise

user4 this girl needs a night out

❤️ by creator

user5 i hope she parties it up in monaco my girl is working OVERTIME

lilymhe let me give you a massage 😏

alex_albon ???

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liked by user23, f1fanupdates and others

paddocknews1 It’s officially the first weekend into the 3-week summer break for Formula 1! Scuderia Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc and Redbull Racing driver Y/N Madison were seen at a fancy dinner in Monaco on Wednesday night and left a club Saturday night! Are these two colleagues just friends or more?

user1 THEY WERE HOLDING HANDS LEAVING THE CLUB

user2 the FIA gonna have a field day with this

user3 she’s gonna get sm hate i can’t :(

user4 ugh she’s ugly anyways

user5 she’s just sleeping around it’ll pass

user6 she needs to keep her legs closed

user7 yall are clearly miserable

user8 god i hate people

user9 she’s probably sleeping with max too

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liked by charles_leclerc, lando, and others

ynuser summer break dump 📸

user1 ur STUNNING

user2 IS THAT CHARLES IN THE 3RD PIC????

kellypiquet STUNNING 👏

❤️ by creator

user3 that’s charles girl you aren’t fooling anybody

redbullracing We can’t wait to see your face in the paddock this week!

user4 oh sis was OUT

user5 what does charles even see in her? she’s not even a good driver…

user6 she’s #2 overall idk what ur talking about….

lando can i have a piece of toast?

ynuser no

user7 she in her fur coat era 😌

user8 WHOS CUTTING THAT WATERMELON????

charles_leclerc yummy watermelon

❤️ by creator

user9 THEY ARENT SUBTLE AT ALL

user10 just hard launch ur relationship atp

user11 i need to hire whoever takes her insta pics lol

user12 probably charles LMAO

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liked by ynuser, scuderiaferrari and others

charles_leclerc i lost in ping pong 💔

ynuser i’m beating you in the races and ping pong LFG!!

charles_leclerc you are lucky your cute

user1 OMG??????

user2 who took the pictures charles???? 👀

user3 y/n took the photos we’re not stupid charles 😃

user4 the fia ISNT gonna like this

user5 now the real question is…WHO was on that yacht with you???

carlossainz55 Let’s pay a match mi amigo 💪

ynuser don’t worry you’ll probably beat him

charles_leclerc HELLO????

user6 i wanna lick his abs

user7 ik y/n wanna like this comment so bad

lando those shorts are too small 👀

ynuser oh we KNOW

lando WHOS WE?????

user8 why is the life jacket so small too???

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liked by ynupdates, anonymous283 and others

deuxmoi DEUXMOI EXCLUSIVE…F1 drivers Y/N Madison and Charles Leclerc have been spotted kissing on a yacht in Monaco during their 3 week summer break!

user1 THEY REALLY WENT ON YACHT AND MADE OUT AND DIDN'T THINK ANYONE WAS GONNA SEE THEM...IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY TO THATS CRAZY

user2 OH MY GOD???

user3 OMG MY PARENTS

user4 YESSSSSSUH

user5 hopefully they don’t make y/n resign :(

user6 they probably will NOOOO

user7 NOT MY CHARLES 💔

user8 YUCK wtf does he see in her?

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[casuallyanidiot]

Omg your yandere coworker *chef's kiss*

I imagine he's just frustrated and angry because he can't believe he's fallen for a loser like reader. Like they are such a mess all the time. So soft and easy to tire. They look so out of place in this workplace environment.

But over time it starts to click that all he was to do is take them away and keep them at home. Reader shouldn't even be at work! Reader should be sitting pretty at home like the good little spouse he knows they are all that they are good for!

Man he'll have to come up with a plan to make that happen wouldn't he?

Thanks! He's awful! :)

I think the worst part about Yan coworker is that he believes he's actually a good person. Maybe if he just acknowledged how scummy he was, he wouldn't be half as bad.

He he's had enough of you stumbling all over yourself like an idiot. Yandere Coworker pulls you aside one day into a storage closet. He's trying so hard not to snap and fuck you stupid against some half empty shelves, so instead he settles for gripping your arms. Isn't he a gentleman? Anyways, he lays it out for you.

"You need to quit," He says simply. His voice is gruff and firm, and you blink in surprise. "What?" You stammer out. He's tall, intimidatingly so, and you tremble as he holds you. "No, no I'm not- I can't quit! This is my job! I know you don't really like me, but that's out of line," You hiss out and squirm away from him.

Yandere coworker realizes you really are very, very dumb. There's nothing in that stupid little head of yours, is there? You can't even tell how much he's looking out for you. You're crumbling under the weight of this job, and he can't stand seeing you so unhappy.

But he makes enough money for the two of you. He can handle this while you can't. In fact, the more he thinks about it, he can't figure out just what in the world you would be good at. He tries to picture you as successful at anything and comes up blank. Huh... You really are good for nothing. Except,,, you would probably do well if you didn't have to do anything at all.

Yandere coworker starts to think about how much prettier you would be if you got proper sleep. He likes the way you look in corporate attire (That is on the rare occasions where you don't look like a hot mess), but he bets you'd like to be in expensive and revealing loungewear even more. The only thing you would have to do is keep your house tidy, and keep yourself nice and presentable for whoever provided for you. Yeah, you'd be perfect for that. And guess what? He could give you that.

Yandere coworker knows that you're far too stubborn for your own good. He begins to actively sabotage your work. He inserts spelling errors into your reports, changes the numbers of any potential client before you have the chance to make a sale. He allows himself to be more officially promoted, and with the new power he has, he assigns you increasingly difficult tasks.

You try and report him for essentially bullying you, but the complaint is thrown out with little care. He's one of the best employees the company had ever seen, and you were just some bumbling broad who couldn't even spell their own name right on official documents.

Before long, you're fired. Yandere Coworker uses his position in the company and many connections he has to essentially black list you.

You can't get a decent job in your field anymore. Plus you begin to get behind on rent and bills. Your life is going to shit, yet you still refuse to take him up on his many offers. It's infuriating, and he just wants to put you in a place that he knows you'll be safe and happy in.

Yandere Coworker just thinks your too dumb to realize how kind he's being. He hopes that you're smart enough to recognize how nice the trunk of a luxury car is. After all, you're going to be there for a while until he can get you to his home where you'll never have to use that useless brain of yours again.

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 3 | long (and a little bit of mutual pining but the kind when they're literally dating which i think is even more pathetic)

tags: modern day, famous au, actor!steve, rockstar!eddie

Eddie stayed longer than he should have. 

He was supposed to leave Chicago with the rest of the band yesterday after their show at Credit Union 1 – opening night for a year-long national tour.

Eddie didn’t leave yesterday though. Instead, he insisted on spending one last night with Steve, one last morning pretending like they would actually get up and go to that breakfast spot they like even though they both knew they’d be spending the time wrapped up together in their bed, in the home they share, refusing to disentangle themselves until they had no other choice.

No other choice meant Eddie waited so long to leave that he ended up on a flight which would get him into Ohio with barely enough time to make it to the venue in Cincinnati before showtime (and he was missing soundcheck completely – sorta shot himself in the foot with that one, in Steve's opinion, though he won’t be caught complaining).

He won’t be caught doing anything – not publicly, anyway.

Steve and Eddie’s relationship is kind of in the halfway-stage between secret and private, where Steve posts vague, faceless photos of the two of them every now and then but still deflects questions about his romantic life during interviews because – look. He and Eddie are both at weird high-points in their careers at the moment, and that means there’s a lot of eyes on them whether they like it or not. Steve had a public relationship turn sour years ago and there is no way in hell he’s letting it happen again.

Not with Eddie. Not when it counts.

There are speculations, obviously (and after Steve dropped Eddie off at O'Hare, he posted a photo of the Kiss n’ Fly sign to his IG story with the caption i hate this place :( – mostly for his own amusement at the specific way his notifications implode afterward), and they’ll probably get around to an official hard-launch someday, but for now Steve likes that they’re keeping things to themselves, especially when they don’t get to make that choice with much else.

Steve gets a just landed text from Eddie a few hours after he boarded his plane.

(Steve knew. He’d been tracking the flight).

Before he could respond, Eddie added, miss you so fn much

i miss you too, Steve texted back, and before either of them could wallow in it too much, he sent, gonna make it on time?

probably, Eddie answered. Then, getting ready in the car lol

He goes quiet after that (the getting ready, presumably), which is fine.

Steve gets it.

He’s busy too. It’s why he’s not following along on Eddie’s tour like some glorified groupie, and it’s not like the distance is anything new. On the contrary, it’s been an element of their relationship since they met at an awards show after-party four years ago. It’s more that this time around, they were supposed to only have four-and-a-half weeks together before Steve headed off on a press tour for the movie he filmed last year, but then that got pushed out a bit further, and so that four-and-a-half weeks together turned into a glorious nine, the longest Steve and Eddie’s calendars had ever been aligned without some serious planning beforehand.

He just got used to it, Steve supposes.

He got used to having Eddie around all the time, under his fingertips, under his skin. He got used to saying goodnight in person, in their bed together instead of over phone lines, got used to waking up in Eddie's arms and hearing sweet nothings whispered in his ear rather than reading the texts Eddie would leave for him to wake up to when they were apart.

He'll adjust just like he always does, and the worst part will be over tomorrow morning – that moment right between sleep and wake when Steve will realize Eddie isn’t in their bed with him.

Like it or not, the distance is their normal and they make it work (except it’s not even making it work, because it’s not like that. Any situation, any set of circumstances will work without question because it’s Eddie).

The start time for the Cincinnati show comes and goes. A few minutes into the opening act and while Steve is mindlessly flitting between Instagram and TikTok waiting for the algorithm to fill his feed with clips from the concert (ones of Eddie, preferably), his screen lights up with a call.

“Hey,” he says the second he slams his thumb on the green accept button.

“Hey,” Eddie replied, his tone nothing short of grim.

“You geared up for the show?” Steve asked.

“No,” Eddie answered, “I’m quitting.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I need you to come tuck my pockets in,” Eddie said, and it’s a goddamn wonder Steve didn’t break down then and there, because Eddie always managed to tug his pants on in a way that made the front pockets stick out just a bit, and throughout their years together Steve had gotten into the habit of tucking them back in for him, squeezing Eddie’s hips a little when he was done and pulling him in for a kiss.

“Yeah,” Steve manages a wet laugh, “I – fuck, man, I wish I was there to tuck them in for you.”

“I want you here so bad, Steve," Eddie says, "I really, really miss you."

“I miss you too,” Steve nodded, even though miss isn't a big enough word for the homesick feeling in his chest, “Only a week until the Indy show though. And I’m coming with you for the Michigan one after.”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied, and if he sounded a little morose about it, Steve was right there with him. Sure, it’s a comfort knowing he’ll be seeing Eddie again so soon, but when those two days are over…yeah, it’s gonna be a long goddamn while until next time, because Eddie will be playing the Midwest while Steve’s press tour is mostly on the East Coast this time around, and after that he heads up into Vancouver to shoot a period drama mini-series while Eddie plays the southern half of the US, and then…well, Steve could keep going. They’re both taking a short break for the holidays, but that and the rare weekend one of them can fly out to the other is about it for the foreseeable future.

Which, yeah, Steve loves acting, loves that he gets to make a whole career out of it, and he knows that Eddie feels the same way about his music, but…the love he has for Eddie definitely edges out the rest of it – enough that he feels the distance between him like a dull, ever-present ache whenever they’re apart.

Eddie only ends their call when his manager practically has to yank the phone out of his hand and shove him onstage, and then Steve settles back into bed, back into scrolling mindlessly on his phone waiting for his finely-tuned algorithms to do their jobs.

Sure enough, it takes less than thirty minutes for Steve’s FYP to start showing him TikToks from Eddie’s show, and amidst all the hair and leather and silver chains and chunky rings and eyeliner and manic energy, Steve sees something else, something that has the hurt of missing Eddie increasing ten-fold, something that has him seriously considering taking an ax to all his contracts and his career and his livelihood and getting on the next plane to Cincinnati.

Eddie left his pockets untucked.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

I Never Blamed You (Part 6)

So, where has Dick been?

Previous | Masterpost | Next

Dick was not going to reach out to Bruce first, he absolutely was not. He wasn’t wrong, and Bruce was never going to change anyway! Their fighting was the reason he had gone to Bludhaven in the first place, and their relationship had only gotten worse when Bruce had taken in Jason, and worse again when he died. Dick had blamed Bruce, but he had blamed himself more, for not being a better brother to the kid. Ya sure he hadn’t wanted a brother, but that was how siblings usually worked! He should have been there! And now here he was, not being here for Tim either, and feeling like complete shit about it.

He apartment was a fucking pigsty and he didn’t clean it. He hadn’t been taking care of himself, he’d been eating junk, he was barely sleeping. He was not doing well and he didn’t care. He didn’t care about much other than his patrols and being Nightwing, he didn’t care about much besides saving people. Like maybe if he saved enough strangers he could make up for not saving his brother.

He couldn't. 

He still checked in on the rest of the family sometimes, and he never blocked Batman on official channels so if they really needed help they could call him. Bruce had never blocked Dick either, or locked him out of their servers, if he did Dick would probably cry.

It had been a few months so it was time to check in again. He still wasn’t locked out thankfully, so he had a look around at the most recently updated files. What were Bruce and Tim having issues with in Gotham?

The most accessed file in the last few weeks was the one on Red Hood and his partner Hyena. Dick really didn’t know that much about them besides they were Gotham’s new crime lords, and he had heard on the news Hyena had killed the Joker. Dick felt like he owed Hyena for that. He had succeeded where Dick had failed after all. He still held a small grudge against the people who had resuscitated the bastard, Nightwing had killed him on purpose after all.

Dick opened the file on Hood, propped his chin on one fist and leaning against the desk, bored and tired, ready to skim the file before moving on. He froze, his body going completely rigid as any trace of his previous fatigue fled his body.

Alias: Red Hood

Civilian name: Jason Todd

It couldn’t be the same Jason Todd, he was dead, it had to be an awful coincidence surely! But he read on with rebid hope anyway. It wasn’t a coincidence. It was Jason, the Baby bird. He’d grown so much, he’d changed so much! 

Dick barely remembered to turn off his computer before he grabbed his suit and headed straight for Gotham, and Crime Alley. 

It was half a miracle that Dick didn’t crash on his way to Gotham with how fast he was going, and how little attention he was paying. He wound in and out of traffic to get to his little brother as quickly as possible, ignoring everything else till he reached Crime Alley. He abandoned his bike more than parked it, and went looking for Red Hood.

They must have access to the cameras in the Alley, or maybe just a network of informants, because they came to meet him long before he would have found them. Both Hyena and Hood were there, but as soon as Dick saw Red Hood he zeroed in and barely noticed Hyena, didn’t even hear the way he snarled when Dick rushed towards Jason.

Jason made a ‘down’ gesture to Hyena who subsided and stopped growling, fading partially into the shadows, though he was still watching them intently. 

“Is that really you Little Wing?” Dick breathed, he felt like the hope was choking him and he didn’t even know if it was real. He’d had delusions and hallucinations before, and Jason featured in them regularly. Hood looked tense, his arms were crossed and his posture closed off, he didn’t seem exactly happy to see Dick.

“What do you want, Big Bird?” He asked. The nickname, even through the modulator Dick recognized the way Jason said it.

Dick was shaking he realized, and he could feel the burning of tears behind his eyes as he crumpled in on himself. Hardly a warm reception, but of course it wasn’t. Why would Jason want to see him? He had been a terrible brother, he hadn’t been there when Jason needed him, he hadn’t been there for Tim. He shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have intruded on Jason’s new life. He was probably better off without Dick anyway.

“I’m so sorry,” He managed to choke out. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, that I wasn’t here. B didn’t tell me, you- No, you didn’t have to tell me, you don’t have to accept my apology. But I wish-” He was interrupted by a little hiccupping sob. He shook his head and brushed away his tears with the back of his hand, furious at himself for his useless self pity. “I wish I’d been a better brother to you. I should have been there, I should have saved you.”

A pair of strong arms wrapped around Dick and he surrendered to them immediately, if Jason hurt him he probably deserved it. But no, Jason just… held him. “I don’t blame you Dicky,” Jason said softly and the floodgates just broke. Dick wrapped his arms back around Jason and sobbed into his broad chest, clinging like a child and barely processing it as he was picked up. Hyena leading the way and Jason brought him to their nearest safehouse.

Dick passed out before they got there. 

----------

Danny opened the door for Jason and quickly disabled all the traps so Jason could carry Dick in and lay him down on the couch. He covered Dick with a throw blanket and slumped down into a chair, taking his helmet off and took a deep breath, letting his head fall back against the chair with a soft thunk. 

Danny trotted to the kitchen and put a pot of coffee on to brew. Once it was done and Jason had a moment to collect himself Danny poured Jason a cup. He pressed it into Jason’s hand and curled up on Jason’s lap purring softly, Jason was sure he wasn’t actually happy right now, but knew Jason found the sound soothing and was doing it for his benefit. He appreciated it.

He absently rubbed Danny’s back while he processed his feelings. Danny didn’t say anything, they never really demanded answers of each other, Jason appreciated that too.

“I didn’t know he cared this much, or that he was doing this badly,” Jason told Danny softly. “I should have reached out to him. I thought he already knew and just didn’t care.”

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t have a great relationship with him before did you? You didn’t think those things for no reason,” Danny told him. 

“Ya, he’d left by the time Bruce took me in and he was barely around. And when he was Bruce and he would fight and he’d storm off,” Jason said with a sigh. “But he’s thinner now, and so tired. I didn’t realize-” He cut himself off, hiding his face in Danny’s shoulder.

“He’s here now, we’ll work it out,” Danny promised, and his confidence did soothe Jason, at least enough to come out of hiding and sip his coffee.

---------

Dick woke up to the smell of fresh baked bread and cinnamon. For a moment he thought that he must be at the manor, and it felt like it had when he was a kid, but when he stretched he realized he was sleeping on a couch. He paused for a moment, and all the memories from before came back. He sat up abruptly and looked around wildly. 

“Well welcome back Sleeping Beauty. Seriously, how long has it been since you slept?!” Jason asked, and the other man sitting at the kitchen island cackled. He recognized the laugh, even if Hyena was out of his suit. “You’ve been asleep all night, I made cinnamon rolls.” 

As if to prove it Hyena held up his half eaten cinnamon roll, and then took another big bite. “There’s coffee too,” Hyena said with his mouth full, Jason whacked him with a spatula for it and Hyena dramatically pretended to be hurt. Jason rolled his eyes. 

Dick blinked and got up, warily approaching the counter as if he expected them to reject or attack him. Jason just got him a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll as he sat down. Dick picked it up and nibbled it, it was delicious enough that he kept picking at it, even though he didn’t have much of an appetite. 

“How long have you been back?” Dick asked Jason softly. He should introduce himself to Hyena properly, but he couldn’t seem to focus on anything but Jason right now. He’d grown so much, he looked older than he was. Where had that little boy gone?

“I came back about six months after my death but I wasn’t all there,” Jason said, turning away to pour his own cup of coffee. “The League of Shadows found me and dumped me in the Pit. I had the worst case of Pit Madness afterwards. It took me a year of training with them, and another year with the All-Cast before I really knew who I was enough to come back to Gotham, and I’m still not the same as I was before. I never will be,” Jason said like a warning as he pulled up a stool and sat down across from Dick and Hyena. 

“They’re pretty common ongoing side effects of resurrection like that,” Hyena added, finally drawing Dick’s attention to him. “Increased violence and obsessive tendencies are pretty normal. So are the grudges and the need for closure, I mean, it makes perfect sense doesn’t it?”

He stretched across the table towards Jason, and Dick finally noticed the white in his hair. It matched Jason’s now, though the placement was different. Jason absently brushed his fingers over Hyena’s open palm in a brief but practiced caress. Hyena grinned up at him fondly. It made Dick feel out of place.

“How would you know?” Dick bristled, he didn’t mean to, and he shouldn’t have. He just hated how well Hyena obviously knew Jason when Dick didn’t know him at all. He had always been a bit of a jealous person.

“Because I died too and I was the same! And I wasn’t even exposed to this Pit stuff,” Hyena explained with a little shrug before straightening up again.

“Oh,” Dick sounded, deflating again, he really shouldn’t be picking fights. He'd rather focus on Jason anyway. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back,” He said looking at Jason and trying not to cry again. “You’ve been back for, what, 8 months? You could have reached out.”

“I didn’t think you'd care, we weren’t exactly close,” Jason said with a  shrug. Dick felt like he had been punched in the gut. “When I revealed myself to Bruce and asked why he hadn’t avenged me he threw a batarang at me to stop me from killing the joker and slit my throat,” He said, tilting his head to show the scar. Dick felt like he might throw up at the sight. “I guess I didn’t want to risk reaching out again.

“I figured I was pretty well disowned and didn’t have a family anymore-”

“Besides me!” Hyena chirped, smiling at Jason who gave his partner a look of fond exasperation. 

“Yes, besides you. So I just kept going with what I was doing, making Crime Alley a safer place and stuff. I did reach out to Tim and we’ve had dinner a few times, but I guess I figured… I heard through the grapevine you didn’t come to my funeral. I didn’t think there was any reason to reach out.”

“I was just in denial,” Dick admitted in a near whisper. “I didn’t want to believe you were gone. I never got a chance to be a better brother, I thought that I’d have more time I guess. Bruce and I, we both fell apart after your death. He got violent to the point Tim felt like he needed to step in,” Jason was nodding, Tim must have told him about that. “But I did too, I had nightmares, and didn’t sleep to the point I started hallucinating you. I beat the Joker to death and never forgave the fucking EMTs who resuscitated him, even though I couldn’t bring myself to do it again.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “I missed you.”

“Damn… I’m sorry Dick, if I'd known it fucked you up that bad I would have reached out. I just assumed since Bruce and Tim knew, you must know too. I wasn’t that surprised you didn’t come, but I didn’t blame you.

"Not this time, and not when I died either. I was mad at Bruce, not you, you didn’t ask for a brother and I understood that. I wasn't your responsibility.

"But, I guess, you’re here now, and I am too. We can try and start over. It’ll have to be slow though,” he glanced at Hyena, who nodded encouragingly. “This is going to be… a lot. For both of us I’m sure.” 

“Right,” Dick agreed sheepishly. “Whatever you need Little Wing, I’m sorry I just showed up without warning last night. I just needed to see you.”

“It’s okay, I’m… glad to know you care. No one told me that you tried to kill the Joker.” Jason paused and shoved the plate of cinnamon rolls towards Hyena. Huh, Dick hadn’t noticed him trying to sneak another one. Hyena looked sheepish as he took another, Jason shook his head at his boyfriend before continuing. “Just take better care of yourself okay? Next time I see you I don't want you passing out in my arms again,” Jason chided him.

“Ya, ya I will,” Dick agreed with an embarrassed little blush. “I’ll reach out to Tim too.” It was way past time to do that.

“Good, he’s a good kid but his self worth is in the fucking gutter. He’s going to work himself to death before he’s 30 if someone doesn’t give him a healthy role model, and some support, and we all know Bruce won’t do it,” Jason huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“I’ll do my best to help,” Dick vowed. This was a second chance he never expected, he was not going to waste it. 

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass 11 pt 2

masterpost

Danny woke from the sleep of the dead with a howl and a swinging fist. It met air, but he wasn’t alone. He felt curiosity and playful aggression in the room.

The room was dark. He lit it with a green glow and chased the dark shadow in his room. Danny flung himself over the coffee table with a roar before he had even consciously realized that there was another ghost in his lair.

The intruder fluttered backwards. Metal went shick from behind him. Danny went intangible and something thudded into the kitchen cupboard. 

Two ghosts? No. One ghost, and one- Danny stole a glance- child. One child? “The fuck!” he shouted, upset and nearly pissed off. It had been a looooong time since some intangible asshole had ruined his sleep. The other ghost stopped their retreat and darted at him, a dark and disorienting smudge in his cramped apartment. He went intangible again and braced for impact with whatever they had in their arsenal.

They went right through him with a vicious jab, paused a microsecond, and then adjusted to his level of tangibility to smack his shoulder out of joint in a crazily precise blow. 

The child flicked the light on.

“...Robin?” Danny said, voice still rough with sleep. Why was a Gotham vigilante in his apartment? And the ghost– “Black Bat?” He reset his shoulder with a pop.

Black Bat frowned. Her joy faded. “...Not Jacqueline,” she said. Her voice was toneless but disappointment came across through her aura.

Fuck, really? No one even knew who they were and he was still being overlooked for his genius sister. Danny groaned and flopped back on the couch, sprawling so one hand hung over the edge and the other over the back. “Get out,” he complained. “She’s at work. But you should leave her alone, anyway. She’s tired.”

“Are you her paramour or her guard dog?” Robin asked, cocking his head. His aura said: I’m impressed. 

Now that Danny was really looking, Robin had a bit of an ectoplasmic tinge. So. Two non-humans, in his apartment, in the dead of the night. “I don’t give personal information to suspicious people,” Danny sniped. He narrowed his eyes at Black Bat, ruffles officially hackled. “Stay away from her. She isn’t hurting anyone and she needs to focus on her degree.”

“Do you really think that there is no harm in engineering?” Robin sniffed. “You are naive.”

…Danny stared at the child dubiously. What the hell did they think Jazz was going to do with a degree in civil engineering? “Did she like, trip some red flags of being a new rogue or something?” he guessed. It would have been a fair guess for anyone who knew their parents. “She’s not. She’s just …passionate.”

“Genuine,” Black Bat said, sounding disappointed. “Knows nothing.”

Danny felt mildly offended about that one. He knew a lot, actually. He just didn’t know anything that Jazz could have possibly done to merit a two-bat intervention.

He squinted at her suspiciously. “You broke into my house to tell me that I’m not involved in anything shady?” he confirmed. She was flat wrong, but still. “You’re the rude one here. You’re shady. You prove your good intentions to me.” He crossed his arms.

Black Bat seemed to narrow her eyes at him. She probably was, under her creepy mask set up. She radiated her emotions so strongly that the full face mask was probably a dire necessity. “...No,” she finally said, and tried to tip him off the sofa onto the floor. The operant word was tried because Danny lifted his eyebrows and stubbornly floated upwards. 

Black Bat looked at the floor where she wanted him to be. She looked back at him. Her aura said she felt betrayed. She had wanted to see him tumble and squawk. This was unfair. She was a sad, sad girl.

Danny sniggered. 

“You are a metahuman,” Robin said, matter of fact and absolutely wrong. “Unregistered, surely. Have you been put in contact with Gotham resources? Are you safe? Has Jacqueline trafficked you? There is no record of your residence here, and I notice that there is no bed for you.”

Danny opened his mouth to say that she was his sister, remembered that legally speaking Jazz was currently related to no one, and then shut his mouth with a frown. 

“If you require aid, we will assist.”

“I require you to get out of my house,” Danny said, jerking a thumb to point accusatively at Black Bat, “before you bring down the GIW on me. Please and thanks.”

He didn’t really expect much of a reaction. Black Bat had clearly been human-side for a while, she was well known in Gotham. If she had been worried about ghost catchers, she would have fled for the Infinite Realms through one of the pathways that theoretically still existed, or laid low. So she was going to scoff and roll her eyes.

Except that’s not what happened. Danny found himself the focus of two much harder, more suspicious stares. Black Bat slowly reached up and pressed a button. Turning off what, a camera? Danny drew away from her, alarmed. Was this a police brutality thing?

Robin saw the motion too. Danny could feel his confusion, but he copied his senior bat.

Ah, hell.

“Tell me,” Black Bat said, “about the GIW.”

[seeingivy]

sisters

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

TW: minor mentions of violence/parental abuse!! also this is suggestive pls read at your own discretion!!

--

“so did i grow another head or are you meeting up with sammy later?” 

“what? how did you even know about that?” 

sukuna lazily leans against you, still half asleep, as he breathes into your neck, a string of unintelligible noises coming out of his throat. you can tell that it’s still too early for him – and that your racket or your absence must have woken him up. you reach up, running one of your hands through his hair, before pressing a halfhearted kiss to his cheek and returning to your typing. 

“google calendar.” sukuna responds. 

you smile. 

“i didn’t realize you actually looked at that.” 

sukuna reaches forward, slamming the screen of your computer down, as you roll your eyes and lean against him. 

“sukuna.” 

“you can study in bed, y’know.” he responds. 

“that’ll distract you, with the typing and the shuffling of papers and all that.” 

“well, it’s already fucking distracting when i wake up and you’re not next to me, so…same shit.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“stop being dramatic. i could easily spend the weekend at my own place and you’d sleep just fine.” you respond. 

“no, i wouldn’t. you basically live here now, i’d obviously notice if you just disappeared.” he deadpans. 

you pause, clutching your pencil in your hand, before spinning it around in your palm. you can feel sukuna lean off of you, your silence clueing him in, as he now intently stares at you with his brown eyes, drowning in irritation. he’s clearly awake now. 

“what are you thinking about?” he asks. 

“nothing.” 

“well, it’s certainly not nothing. and i’m almost positive it’s something annoying because you’re not telling me.” he responds, poking into your cheek. 

you sigh. 

“should i be paying rent? because…i really am here all the time…s’kind of unfair if you’re the one paying for the place when i stole all of your closet space and your bed and –” 

“you’re making it sound like you’re such a nuisance to me. contrary to your beliefs, i actually love that you’re using my closet and that you take my jackets sometimes. and in my opinion, the only place you should be is in my bed anyway, so.” 

sukuna can tell that you’re not really buying it. 

“can you let me cover our groceries? i literally eat all of your food too. and –” 

“it’s our food. i made it for you.” he complains. 

“i’m probably emptying out your bank account and you’re just letting me. you should just –” 

sukuna reaches for your legs, before sliding you sideways on the chair so that you’re facing him. and he takes his residence in between your legs, cupping his hands around your face, and angling your chin up so that you’re looking at him. 

“you’re about to graduate. how about…you start splitting rent with me when you aren’t living in your dorm and you’re officially living with me? it doesn’t make sense to pay for two places right now.” 

you bite down on the softness of your cheek. 

“are you…asking me to move in with you?”

“you already live here.” he deadpans. 

“no. but then we’d have to put me on the lease. i’d-i’d actually live here live here.” 

“well, were you really thinking about moving back home? you would hate that.” 

“i mean no. but i was going to look for an apartment and roommates and –” 

“i have an apartment right here. i would be a great roommate – i feed you and i kiss you when you’re sad, which seems like a win win to me. but if it feels too fast for you to move in with me in a few months, that’s okay with me. i will help you apartment hunt if it comes to it.” 

you frown. 

“do you think people will judge us for moving in together so fast? i mean, by the time i graduate, it’ll only have been like…like half a year? and we still haven’t –” 

“do you think it’s weird?” 

“i mean, no but –” 

“what other people say doesn’t matter. if you want to live here when june comes around, that’s really no one else’s business. i’m not going to murder you, i won’t be a bad roommate, and that’s kind of all that matters.” 

you smile. 

“do you want to live with me?” 

“you. already. live. here.” he responds. 

“no, but like. joint lease. like actually living here. you know you won’t be able to break up with me for like two years because we’ll be stuck here, right?”

“well, i was obviously not planning on breaking up with you, so that won’t be a problem, will it?” 

you pause. 

“i guess not.” 

sukuna gives you a satisfied smile, before dropping his hand from your face to the chain hanging around your neck. you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm as he admires the little charms on the necklace he gave you, running his fingers over them. 

“what?” you ask. 

“you’re still wearing it.” 

“are you crazy? i have to wear this forever now. i’m never going to take it off.” 

“okay, but…i do take mine to get cleaned every few months so you will eventually have to take it off.” 

you roll your eyes, as you bring one of your hands up to his, and squeeze. 

“so…i’m taking your big avoidance of the question as a confirmation that you really are seeing sammy later?” 

you sigh. 

“yeah. i’ve been trying to make plans with her for two weeks and she was finally able to pencil me in.” 

sukuna pulls up the chair next to you, sitting on it backwards, as he leans his chin against the back of the chair. he’s playing with the rings on your fingers, twisting them back and forth, as he listens. 

“okay, but why? do i have to roam around in the mall at the same time as you guys just to save you in case she’s a bitch?” 

“don’t call her a bitch, sukuna.” you groan. 

sukuna’s eyes widen, as he jokingly presses his hands to your face and starts shaking your head. 

“who are you and what did you do to my girlfriend?” 

you swat his hands off, as you narrow your eyes at him. 

“stop it! i’m just…trying to be nicer to her. you should be too, she’s still my sister.” 

“wow. what brought on this sudden need to reconcile with the devil?” 

“sukuna!” 

“okay, okay, i’m done.” 

you pause, leaning your cheek against the cold tile of the kitchen island. it bites into your skin, the shrill cold making the hairs on the ends of your arm stand up. 

“you know how we hate that yuuji is so…so one track minded when it comes to you and me? how he kind of pushes his own feelings into what he thinks about us and that…that a lot of them are really immature things from when you guys were kids?” 

“yeah.” 

“it would be hypocritical of me to hate yuuji for doing that when i do the same thing to my own sister.” 

sukuna raises his eyebrows. 

“do you?” 

“i think so. i’m just…i don’t know. i feel like dating you has made me more self aware.” 

“well, obviously. i’m the epitome of emotional intelligence.” 

“shut up! i was just saying because…well, i know why yuuji harbors so much dislike for you now that you’re dating me.”  

sukuna pauses, leaning forward like he’ll almost miss it if he isn’t close enough to hear it. 

“he thought it was really careless when you left for europe, that you just thought about yourself and no one else. he thought it was really unfair because he still needed you to be there for him and you weren’t anymore.” 

sukuna can feel the guilt pooling in his chest. 

“but now that i’m dating you…and i know why you left, i feel like he’s really immature. i know that yuuji needed you but you were still a kid too. it wasn’t your responsibility to take care of him and he can’t get mad at you for that. you were your own person and you picked what was right for you.” 

sukuna reaches forward and cups one of your cheeks. you lean into the warmth of his hand, before pressing a kiss to his palm. 

“that’s why i hated sammy. that she would try to be fake and act like she was the best, when i knew she was getting drunk every weekend in highschool. i…i was always embarrassed because really, i just wanted her to take care of me the way you took care of yuuji. but that wasn’t her job and really, she still did that when it really mattered, anyways.” 

“what do you mean?” 

“that time i told you about, where i got caught in that car with mazzy and got in trouble. they called my mom, but…but sammy was the one who picked up. she was the one who came and got me and i had to tell her everything. i was expecting for her to tell me what everyone kind of did at that time, that he was a bad guy so what did i expect from being with him?” 

“but?” 

“but she just took me home and told me to take a shower. made me a really nice dinner. it meant a lot to me at the time, i-i basically started sobbing when she handed me my food because it just felt so nice to be around someone who just wanted to take care of me. she never even asked me twice about it, just…just kind of did what i needed.”  

sukuna presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles. 

“we’re older now. i want us to be better and just…be friends at least? i don’t know, i just think i’ve been really unfair to her when i’ve never even stopped to ask her if she needed anything from me.” 

“well, you can start by asking her today.” sukuna offers. 

you smile. 

“yeah. yeah, i can.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“so what i’m hearing is…i’m the best, most self aware boyfriend ever who –” 

“oh, calm down, narcissus. just when i think your ego can’t get bigger you go and start staying stuff like that.” 

--

you wait for sammy across from the little donut shop at the mall. you get a set of two donuts – a maple bar for her and a sugar one for you – as you swing your legs over the bench and rehearse your little script in your head. 

it felt a little evil given the conversation you had with sukuna earlier in the day, but you had a favor you desperately needed to ask her. 

and surely enough, she comes right on time, hands shoved in her pockets as she gives you a halfhearted smile. you jump up, unsure if you should hug her or shake hands and then there’s too much of a pause when you don’t say anything. 

“are you okay?” she asks.

“hm? yeah! yeah. how are you? also, i got you a donut. and it’s maple, your favorite! and –” 

you pause – too much. but she fills the silence. 

“you’re rambling.” she states, as she plops down on the bench. 

she shoots you a grateful smile as she picks up the donut from the box, perfectly wrapped in the napkin, and takes a bite out of it. you mimic her motions, maybe scarfing down yours faster than you should have, from the nervousness. 

she hates you. 

“jesus. is this the first time you ate today? do i have to slap sukuna for not feeding my little sister properly?” 

sammy reaches forward, an annoyed look on her face, as she wipes away the sugar around the edges of your mouth – and you shoot her a grateful smile, that she halfheartedly acknowledges, as you lean back on the bench. 

“how’d you know about sukuna?” 

sammy rolls her eyes. 

“kisa. she was going on and on about how the ryomen sukuna is dating sammy’s little sister. half of the town knows by now, including the moms, who are planning to invite you to some big dinner where they start talking about your wedding.” 

“huh? my what?” 

“you should thank me, bitch. they were actually talking about your grandchildren and i told them that they need to tone it back fifty notches or you both won’t ever talk to them again.” 

“well, sukuna definitely won’t if they say that.” 

“tell me about it.” she responds. 

you shoot her a grateful smile, heart warm that she had thought to advocate for you in the slightest, as you prep yourself to say your entire spiel. 

“i asked you a question. is he good to you?” sammy asks. 

“what?” 

“sukuna. is he good to you or do i have to mutilate him?” 

you smile and she returns it back, leaning back in her chair and hiking her legs to her chest. 

“really good. i really love him.” you respond. 

sammy smiles. 

“i know.” 

“what do you mean you know?” 

“first and foremost, that poor kid has been so hopelessly wet in his pants for you since he was like a kid. do you remember that one birthday where he got you a bike that he built from scratch? second, i did hear him call you a pretty girl that one dinner he came to right before you started chewing him out.” 

you cringe. 

“oh god. we’re not actually like that – i was being really stupid that day. i just…” 

“no, it was really funny. he came back looking like a kicked dog when mom asked him to leave.” 

you smile. 

“i bet.” 

you pause. you had to be honest. 

“we actually don’t fight that much, that was just one of the rare times. i just got kind of jealous. of you. when the moms were suggesting that you date him and you were buying into it. i thought he was actually going to do it and i just…got irritated and yelled at him. and trust me, i was even worse when we got home before i calmed down, so…” 

sammy scoffs. 

“i don’t want to date your boyfriend.” 

“i know! it…it was my problem. i clearly have issues with insecurities, especially when it comes to you because of how the moms were sometimes, and i know that it’s my fault.” 

sammy raises her eyes.

“what?” 

“well, i don’t know. i mean, i feel like i’ve had big problems with what people have thought of me since i was a kid. but i always felt like they liked you better, and that because they liked you they couldn’t like me, and sometimes it made me resent you. and it was unfair, because, because…that’s not really your fault.” 

sammy sighs, before demolishing her donut by splitting it in half. 

“well, that’s not entirely true.” 

“hm?” 

“that’s not true. sometimes…i did do it on purpose. sometimes, i got a kick out of the fact that for once that…someone liked me instead of you.” 

“you’re kidding.” you deadpan. 

“i’m really not though. because you tend to forget, that i didn’t have friends like you did when you were a kid. you met yuuji the first day we moved into that house. sukuna basically followed you around after that. the three of you were friends and…and i was never included. so if the parents were the ones who liked to be around me, then…then that’s where i was going to be.” 

you pause.

the worst part of it was that sammy was always your dad’s favorite. and he’s the one who picked up and left. 

“you forget that your best friend before yuuji was me, y/n. i’m sorry that i was a bitch to you and maybe made some of your insecurities worse…but you did it to me first. i wasn’t exactly mature at that age so i just…that’s just what i did.” 

you lean back, unable to stop thinking about it now. that when you and yuuji wanted to go to the park, sukuna was always the one who took you guys – and that sammy was the one who stayed behind. how you really can’t remember a time where it was ever the four of you, but hundreds of times that sukuna had followed behind you and yuuji under the guise of taking care of you. 

and then you feel horrible. because every time you got drunk in highschool, yuuji was always there covering for you, making sure that you made it home safe with water and aspirin in your system, when you almost always found sammy half passed out on the porch before you had to drag her back into the house before your mom noticed. 

that maybe, sammy knew exactly how to take care of you that night she had to pick you up, because it was exactly what she had been longing for someone to do for her. 

“i’m a really shitty sister, aren’t i?” you ask.  

“yeah. but i am too, so…can’t really blame yourself there.” 

“are you? because…because i literally abandoned you.” 

“and i took it out on you and your friends after the fact so, relax. we’re both shitty people, it’s not a big deal.” 

you pause. you suppose that she’s right. 

“i was going to ask something really cheesy but i know you’d get really annoyed.” you state. 

sammy curls her nose up in disgust. 

“like what?” 

“well, i was going to ask if we were going to be friends now? and –” 

“you exercised the correct judgment. that’s disgusting, y/n.” 

but then sammy brings her hand up and rests it against the top of your head, before brushing the stray hairs around your face to the backs of your ears. and you smile, feeling so oddly taken care of that it makes your heart warm. 

“god. he really is good for you, isn’t he?” 

“who?”

“pablo picasso. obviously, sukuna.” sammy responds, tone bitingly sarcastic. 

“why do you say that?” 

“dunno. we’re hanging out right now. talking about our feelings. if he makes you realize that you’re jealous of me and indirectly makes us talk about our…whatever…then he must be good for you. that and the fact that he’s been obsessed with you since forever so, he must be on top of the world.” 

you smile. 

“i don’t know. i kind of thought that some part of me was…ruined after what happened back then. like i came with this big thing that someone else would have to come to terms with if they were going to be with me.” 

sammy glares at you, but you can tell that it’s laced with concern. that she thinks you’re being stupid. 

“what?” 

“i just mean. i always knew i’d have problems from my past relationship in my current one. and that maybe someone wouldn’t love me enough to be patient, because i would struggle so much.” 

sammy sighs. 

“but?” 

“but, he’s so patient. sammy, sometimes i don’t even know what i did to deserve him. he’s…he does things just because he knows they’ll make me happy, even if he hates them, and…and he’s always so understanding about everything. he never pushes, he’s always so sweet and just –” 

“it’s what you deserve.” 

“what?” 

“it’s what you should have had the first time.” sammy states. 

you pause.

“yeah. but it almost makes me more grateful for him now. it’s almost like…i had to know the bad to really appreciate the good? and it makes it sweeter? i don’t know, i obviously wouldn’t have wanted it to happen if i had the choice, but i’m just really…really grateful for him.” you respond. 

“i’m sure that means the world to him.” 

“what do you mean?” 

sammy nearly cringes. 

“well, you know how his dad was. i’m sure it makes his entire life that someone actually appreciates him.” 

you nod. 

“i was going to call him after this actually. tell him that if he ever hurts my little sister, who is my friend now, i’m going to cut his dick off. but…same for you. sometimes i forget how much he suffered at the hands of his dad when he was little. he deserves good just as much as you do.” 

you feel a shiver down your spine. on a topic you had yet to broach with sukuna. on the times that he’d fight so bad with his dad that he’d spend the night at your house. and the rare occasions where his dad would raise his hands on sukuna and when you had to watch your mom ice his skin from the door of the kitchen. 

“you’ll cut my dick off?” you murmur. 

sammy snorts. 

“shut up. you know what i meant.” 

sammy pushes up off the bench, as she gestures for you to join her with her head. 

“so what did you need my help with?” sammy asks. 

“huh? how did you know?” 

“you’re annoying. you’re going to be nice to me but you’re also going to ask for a favor.” sammy states. 

“okay, i’m sorry! but i really can’t ask anyone else, all my friends are all…weird about me and sukuna dating so i can’t just be like oh…oh come buy lingerie with me because i have no idea how any of it works.” 

sammy raises her eyebrows, fighting the urge to laugh, as you shove her. 

“shut up. you’re such a bitch.” 

“you guys already hit a short fuse that you need to spice things up? he’s such a dog.” 

“what? no, no we haven’t even done it yet.” 

“what?” 

“well, we had a whole talk. and now that we’ve waited for so long, i want it to be special. for me and him, and…and i want to feel good, okay? not that i think it’ll make me feel good but i just mean it would be nice to do something like that.” 

sammy links her arm in with yours, turning on your heel towards the direction of the store, as she keeps laughing. you can feel the embarrassment in your cheeks, irritated, as you elbow her in the side one again. 

“stop it!” 

“i’m sorry! that’s actually like really cute and fucking romantic. but i can’t just stop laughing at you saying you don’t know how lingerie works.” 

“it looks so complicated online. just so many…straps and stuff.” 

“okay, okay, relax. my girlfriend loves this type of shit, so i’m basically an expert.” 

you try to hide your shock – at sammy saying she has a girlfriend – as she drags you into the store and basically shoves you into a dressing room. 

and surely enough, you leave the mall with a light pink set that she insisted on buying for you and a box of condoms that you swiped on your way out from the convenience store across the street. 

--

sukuna comes home to dim lights and the faint smell of lavender. and shockingly enough, you serving dinner, perfectly plating and garnishing it with the little minced greens. he quickly decides that it’s his favorite sight – your eyebrows scrunched in concentration, drowning in one of his old t-shirts. 

you feel sukuna’s arms wrap around your waist, as he sags nearly his entire weight around your back, and sighs heavily into your shoulder. 

“hi doll face. what’s the occasion?” he murmurs. 

you smile. 

“does there need to be an occasion for me to do something nice for you?” 

“yes. you’re cooking dinner, which is haunting, baby.” 

“fine. you can starve then.” 

sukuna laughs, before pressing lazy kisses into your neck, and loosening the buttons around his collar. 

and throughout the course of the dinner, he can tell that you’re nervous. it would be a little off putting a few months ago, but he knows better by now – that you’re clearly going to ask him something important or say something big to him. and naturally, with how impatient he was, he was going to weasel it out of you. 

“how was sammy?” sukuna asks. 

you smile. 

“good. she said she will cut your dick off if you hurt my feelings.” 

sukuna snorts. 

“i expected as much. did you give any thought to the apartment?” 

“yeah. it makes sense and…and i really don’t care.” 

you reach forward, pressing your hand into the warmth of his cheek, and feel your heart flutter at the smile he gives you back. you can feel the nervous anticipation pooling under your skin, entire body warm at the thought of him sitting across from you. 

“i really love you, you know that?” you whisper. 

sukuna narrows his eyes at you, the whisper of a smile still on his face. 

“are you sure you’re okay? we can talk about anything that’s bothering you if –” 

“no. no, nothing’s bothering me. really. i just really love you.”

sukuna shakes his head, the lightest pink dusting his cheeks. 

“you silly girl.” he scoffs. 

you smile. 

“i love you more. don’t argue back because you won’t win.” 

you shake your head, before reaching into the lining of your underwear, for the condom that you tucked into your skin. and you place it flat on the table, before looking up at him. 

“wow. you’re serving condom for dessert? at least tell me it’s flavored.” he asks. 

you groan, which earns you him a laugh from him. 

“they come flavored?” 

“yeah, but…but it’s weird so don’t buy those. also, don’t buy condoms. that’s my job.” 

“i don’t know how you initiate these type of things!” 

sukuna laughs, before cupping your cheeks with his hands. 

“you’re like a cavewoman. initiating sex by giving me a condom. no foreplay? no kissing?”

“i mean, obviously. but like…we always kind of get close to it. i just wanted you to know that i was ready. and that i…” 

sukuna grins and it’s enough to make your heart drop to your stomach. 

“that you what?” he whispers. 

“you know.” 

sukuna shakes his head, as he reaches for your waist and pulls you off the chair, and starts dragging you towards his room. 

“i don’t know, y/n. you have to tell me, princess.” 

you feel your cheeks burn, as you press your hands to your sides. 

“well…i want you.” 

“is that right?” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

sukuna locks his hands around your waist, as you lift yours around his neck, nervously crumpling the fabric of his shirt in your hands as you look up at him. 

“i’m done teasing. you just make it so easy, baby.” 

you bite your lip. 

“well, i kind of like it. so you…you don’t have to stop.” 

sukuna smiles, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

“more of that, okay? you tell me what you like, more importantly what you don’t.” sukuna whispers. 

you nod. 

“safe word.” sukuna states. 

“um…worm?” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“and what if i wanted to call you my pretty little worm? then what?” 

“if i take all my clothes off and you even think about calling me a worm, i’m never speaking to you again.” you respond. 

sukuna laughs, before giving you a nod, and leaning forward to close the distance before you. you can tell that he’s moving slow, tiny steps backing you up before you fall back onto the bed, and he’s hovering with his necklace dangling over you. 

and his voice is quiet as he peppers kisses into your cheek and neck, so soft it makes your stomach rumble. 

“just so you know, it does hurt the first time. need you to tell me, don’t feel embarrassed. and i –” 

“i know. i know, i will.” 

sukuna smiles, before hooking his fingers under the fabric of his t-shirt, before he carefully pulls it out from under you. and maybe it’s the sheer embarrassment that you went out of your way to buy lingerie – but you pinch your eyes shut when you catch the realization in his eyes. 

“up.” 

his voices comes out more gravelly than you’ve ever heard it, as you open your eyes, skin burning, as you give him a confused look. 

“sit up, doll. let me look at you.” he whispers, this time more fervent. 

you oblige, sitting up on the edge of the bed, as he kneels onto the ground, hands fixed on your waist, as he looks up at you. you cringe, shrinking your shoulders together, as you look down at him. 

“too much?” you ask. 

sukuna scoffs. 

“are you fucking crazy?” he responds, tone dripping with disbelief. 

sukuna stands up this time, pulling you up with him, as cradles your face with his hands, eyes so sickeningly sweet that it makes you smile. 

“my perfect girl. what did i do to deserve you, huh?” he murmurs. 

“what?” 

“the dinner, the candles. this fucking set you bought. you ruin me, you know that?” 

you shake your head, as he drops his hands, admiring the lace. and he lifts one of his fingers, making the gesture for you to spin, as you oblige, and get a barrage of kisses in response. 

“i’m obsessed, you know that? with this, with you, with your smell.” 

you smile, pulling his face out of the crook of your neck, as you shake your head, and he takes the hint to slow down. you relax into his arms, nervously toying with the buttons on his shirt, as you calm down, trying to ease the nerves, as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“i’m guessing you…you like it?” 

“like it? i love it. it’s special to me.” he murmurs. 

you look up at him, as he drops his gaze to yours, lovingly running his hands through your hair. 

“really? you don’t think it’s cheesy right?” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“s’really special. never had someone put in this much effort to make me feel special. i was supposed to be doing all of this for you, y’know? was planning it all out too.” 

“really?” 

“yeah. was gonna get you a whole weekend getaway for your birthday. whole rose petals on the bed and everything.” 

you laugh. 

“what the fuck is so funny? it’s romantic.” he complains. 

“no, no it’s so cute! but you have to let me be the romantic too sometimes. i wanted to do all of this for you…and me too. i mean, i just –” 

“i understand, princess. you’re perfect.” sukuna responds. 

you pause. 

“you can tell me if you don’t want this right now. i know i made us dinner and made it a whole thing with the outfit, but really, you don’t have to oblige just because i –” 

sukuna responds by closing the distance, lips warm against yours as he pushes you back onto the bed, for a second time. 

--

sukuna brings you two advils when you’re soaking in the bath. you can still feel your blood pulsating under your skin, the tiredness seeping into your bones as you lean back against the tile, with the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles. 

and you can’t help but feel your skin burn when he walks back in – unable to stop thinking about how his head was just nestled in between your legs, of all the sweet nothings leaving his mouth, and the gentle way he carried you here after running the bath for you. 

he crouches down by the side of the tub, holding his hand out for you as you oblige. he lifts the cup to your mouth, refusing to let you hold it, as you down the pills.

“i can’t hold my own glass now?” 

“it's aftercare. shut up.” 

he makes the motion to stand up and you reach out, slapping your wet hand around his wrist and pulling. 

“you okay?” 

“yeah. yeah, but can you stay?” 

sukuna nods, as he sits flat on the tile of the bathroom, leaning his head against the side of the bath. he was intent on giving you the time to process and relax, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more to stay there, to possibly never leave your side again, and is pleasantly surprised by your request. 

“bath okay?” he asks. 

“yeah. thanks. for the pills too.” 

“promise it’ll hurt less next time, yeah?” sukuna murmurs. 

you nod, poking at the little indents of his dimples. you can’t help but admire him, the lightest sheen of sweat still stuck to his forehead, at the arch of his back and the tattoos littered over his skin as he lazily places his hand in the water and lets the soap run through his fingers. 

“did you like it?” sukuna asks. 

“are you a nut job?” 

“i mean, what did you like? just so i keep it in mind for next time. s’my job to make you feel good, y’know?” 

you smile, before feeling your chest ache. 

“all of it.” you respond. 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“nope. specifics.” 

you lean back, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair, as you think it over. 

“well, i liked it when you would hold my hand. it made me feel really comfortable…and when you would ask before doing something different.” 

“uh huh. what else?” 

“um…the stuff you called me.” 

sukuna grins. 

“like what?” 

you groan. 

“you know…the usual stuff!” 

“you like it when i called you my good girl, right? when you were taking me so well?” sukuna asks. 

you can tell that he’s trying to irritate you and lightly splash the water at him. 

“sue me! i like to be praised by my boyfriend!” you respond, glaring at him. 

sukuna shakes his head at you, before reaching for your hands and pressing kisses to your knuckles. the spots he marked on your neck are starting to purple up now, as he reaches down for his own that you left. 

“i liked it when you did this.” sukuna responds. 

you smile. 

“i’ll cover it up before you go to work tomorrow.” 

“i liked all the pretty sounds you made. i go insane when you say my name.” 

you shake your head, before splashing the water at him. 

“quit it.” 

“really. i love it all. i love you.” 

you deflate. sammy’s comment from earlier, the harsh memory of him with his eye purpled over on your dining room table, runs through your mind, as you lean forward, and press a kiss to his shut eyelids. 

“yeah, yeah. i love you too.” 

sukuna smiles, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the top of your knee.

--

next part linked here

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[mydearesthrry]

sweet nothing - h.s.

a/n: TOTALLY LOST THE PLOT WHILE WRITING THIS. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BASED OFF OF THE PICTURE BELOW BUT I GOT DISTRACTED. pls listen to sweet nothing by taylor swift for the full experience!!!

🎀 warnings/cw: none, most tooth rotting fluff ever.

🐇 pairing: fem!reader x harry styles

💐 wc: 1.6k

summary: taking care of a very sleepy harry in an ice bath, and in the car.

“H, the bath is ready, bub.” Harry heard his girlfriend call quietly to him. He was slumped on the couch, this show particularly draining. He was quieter than usual, and instead of being glued to Y/N’s side like he usually was, he let one kiss to her full lips suffice before he decided to rest. 

“Mm, thank you, lovie. I’ll… I’ll be there in a second, jus’ don’t have the energy to go there right now.” His limbs were sore, almost every part of his body completely lost of energy, and he found it hard to even entertain the thought of getting up. 

“Okay… y’know what, just let me help you, H. The faster we get you into this bath, the faster we can go back to the hotel so you can sleep.” He knew she was right, and because he knew she was right, he allowed her to help (though not really at all since he already had felt bad that she ran the ice bath for him) him get to the bathroom. They walked slowly to the connected bathroom, Harry walking zombie-like in her arms. 

“Ready, sweet boy?” She tried to be as quiet as possible, the fact that Harry probably had a headache in the front of her mind. He nodded softly, stripping down to his boxers before letting her help him balance as he stepped into the bath. 

A wince immediately left him, Y/N whispering out ‘I’m sorry’s, knowing how shocking the bath was at first. She lowered herself with him, and sat on the floor next to the bucket when he sat down, submersing himself fully. 

“Okay bubs, y’know we’ve gotta do this so you don’t fall asleep on me. You ready?” Y/N says, pulling out her phone to pull up the trivia questions she’d pre written for the late night ice bath trivia that had become a tradition for them. Harry hums, and she flips to her notes to start. 

“Pick the category, my love. We’ve got pop culture, or the Marvel Cinematic Universe.” She asked, looking up at him, heart breaking a little at the exhausted expression that was obvious on his face. 

“Marvel.” He mumbles, sinking himself lower until his neck up was the only part of his body above water. 

“Okay… Timer officially starts now. Who played the character Pietro Maximoff, also known as Quicksilver?” Her tone was soft, almost at a whisper. 

“Umm… Aaron Taylor Johnson?” Harry questioned, racking his brain to try his hardest to stay awake. His body had now gotten used to the stark cold that he’d slowly started to get used to over the times he’s done this on tour. 

“Good job, baby. What was the name of Peter Parker’s love interest in Spider-Man: Homecoming? This one should be easy, it’s one of my favorite movies.” She giggled, a serene sense of peace overcoming her at the domesticity of it all. 

“It is easy, she’s called Liz, right? Liz Allan, or something.” His eyes were now closed, feeling the tension in his body slowly disintegrate from the cold of the water. 

“Perfect! Though the both of us know that Peter and MJ were the better couple, they were entirely more in love and cuter.” She smiled. 

“Oh, really? Like us then, hm?” Harry hummed. 

“Yes, H, exactly like us.” A few more questions had passed, and Lloyd had now come to join them in the bathroom, his camera hung around his neck. They’d anticipated him coming anyway, knowing that he would come to snap some behind the scenes pictures. Before they’d even left to go to his dressing room, they’d told Lloyd when to come in so that he could come talk to them. 

“Hey guys, sorry for intruding, but I need one of you to pick a few pictures for tonight so I can get them edited by tomorrow.” Lloyd tried to keep his voice quiet too, knowing the kind of atmosphere he was entering before he even came to meet the two in the bathroom. 

“Oh yeah, of course, did you want some pictures too?” Harry smiled, a tired but polite look on his face. Harry had built a great relationship with Lloyd over the months that they’ve been on tour, and they’d gotten more comfortable with each other than they’d anticipated. 

“Only if you’re comfortable, H.” Lloyd smiled. Y/N and Lloyd talked for a second, scrolling through pictures and picking out a few for him to edit. The time they took allowed Harry to rest in the cold for a little, before pushing himself up and folding over, dipping his head into the ice cold water. He could faintly hear Lloyd’s footsteps move to the front of the tub, along with the flicking of the camera shutter going off as he lifted his head out of the tub, ringing out his hair from the nape of his neck to the front of his scalp. 

A couple more flutters from the camera shutters were heard when Harry was rubbing his eyes with the pruny tips of his fingers, and he failed to see the smile on Lloyd’s face. 

Lloyd pulled the camera from his eyes, looking at the digital screen that held a preview of the picture. In the corner, slightly blurred because of the harsh focus that was set on Harry in the center, say Y/N with a soft smile playing on her lips, a moony gaze in her eyes. He made a mental note to send it to them later, and to also crop her out in the final edit in an attempt to salvage their private relationship. 

“Perfect. I’ll let you two rest now, think I’m gonna head to the hotel now myself. Sleep well, you guys, I’ll send you the pictures in the morning.” Lloyd smiles at them, sharing goodnights before closing the door behind him as he walked out. 

Harry’s now damp hair was combed back by his fingers and rested on the top of his head, save for the rogue curl that shriveled in a tiny curl on his forehead. Y/N rested her arms on the side of the tub, a gleam in her eyes as she watched Harry’s relaxed expression. Her timer, however, had different plans for the relaxed couple, and went off with shrill screams, notifying them that it was now time for Harry to leave the bath. 

“Alright sweet boy, time to go.” She tapped on her screen to stop the ringing, standing up to grab his black and white striped towel. She met him in the middle, her boyfriend already standing on the towel that laid outside of the tub, water droplets falling from his body in a soft cascade, small shivers shaking his shoulders slightly. Wrapping the towel around his shoulders, she pushes herself up onto her tiptoes to meet the level of his face, pecking soft kisses onto his cold lips. They stayed in that position for a bit, waiting for Harry’s skin to absorb the rest of the small water droplets. 

She led him with a soft tug to the main space in the dressing room, taking the outfit she’d gotten ready for him while he was on stage from the makeup chair and placed it onto the couch. Leaning down a bit, she took the towel to let him remove his now soaked briefs, before passing him a pair of boxers, tossing his towel onto the back of the couch. She passed him his clothes as he dressed himself slowly, humming at the words of love and admiration he sleepily spewed out. Once he got his last article of clothing on, she took his hoodie strings into her hands and tugged it down softly, making him lean down a bit to meet her lips. 

Their lips connected in a soft caress, his bottom lip wedges in between her two lips, a sweet hum emitting from his throat from the taste of her coconut flavored chapstick, one that was his favorite. Something that could only be described as love seemed to fill the room whenever they had these kinds of moments. Moments that was completely and purely their own. 

They broke away from the kiss, and when Harry went to say something, a yawn cut him off, mouth opening wide making him resemble something of a lion, making a giggle fall from her slightly swollen lips. “Let’s get you into a bed, sleepy boy.” 

“M’kay.” Harry didn’t put up a fight, wanting to get into bed with her to snuggle more than anything. 

They walked through the halls of the venue, pushing through the back door where their driver was already waiting for them, engine started and purring softly. Y/N opens the back car door, stepping in and moving to the side since she knew Harry would follow her. The driver muttered that it would take them about 5 to 10 minutes to get to the hotel before taking off without another word. 

Y/N snapped her seatbelt on, a confused twinge on her face when she didn’t see Harry do the same. Instead, he scooted over to the middle seat, laying into her sleepily. “H, you gotta put on your seatbelt.” 

“Noooo, s’not even that far, and I jus’ wan’ y’to hold me right now.” He mumbled, slightly muffled from the way he burrowed his face into her neck. She sighed in slight exasperation, saying nothing and just letting him completely collapse and rest into her. He was almost laying completely in her lap, her hand in his hair, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looked out the window and into the city. 

She let out a tiny giggle when she felt the slight tickle of stubble on her neck, followed by sweet kisses on the expanse of it. “I love you, love y’so much, it hurts.” 

“I love you, H.” She intertwined their fingers together, bringing up his hand to her mouth and pressing featherlight kisses onto his knuckles. 

“I love you,” Harry whined, making the smallest of smiles cover her face since knew how clingy and lovey Harry got when he was tired. She tried to relish in these moments as much as possible. 

“I love you, sweet boy, the Peter Parker to my Michelle Jones.” A sweet giggle sounded from Harry as he remembered the conversation from earlier. 

“Entirely in love and cute. I agree.” 

[causenessus]

love notes

part 0.20. EPILOGUE

"you deserve a good life i hope we stay together i want this to last forever"

from a good life by eyedress, left in okayama, japan

CONTENT WARNING: a little suggestive :)

her breathing slows the moment she sees him.

he’s pushing his way past a group of men, lines forming at the corners of his hooded eyes as he gives them a smile and nod before he's making his way towards her again. 

he looks a little funny in his formal wear. she knows he hates it, and has probably been tugging at his stuffy collar all day. but it’s the same collar she grabs when he’s close enough, pulling him down to her level and crashing her lips against his.

his hands immediately find their way onto her body, roaming maybe a little more than they should in a room full of important people and coworkers, but that’s never mattered much to them. they’re acting like they haven’t seen each other in months, when in reality they woke up in the same bed this morning, legs entangled and hands intertwined even in their sleep.

“took you long enough,” she teases. she’s holding him close, her hand still fisted around his collar and she’s looking up into his eyes as he stares back down at her, a stupid grin on his face.

“i made it and i found you, didn’t i? that’s all that matters,” he shrugs before he looks behind her, standing back up straight as his face drops.

she turns her head to see what he’s looking at and smiles sheepishly when she makes eye contact with her best friend, his face covered by a mask as he looks at them in disgust. “in the middle of an entire crowd? really?” he says in disbelief, shaking his head as he walks closer and she removes her hand from rintaro.

neither of them have an excuse, so they only apologize to him in unison before he sighs. 

“should we go find osamu?” rintaro asks now that the three of them are together.

she nods, walking forward and taking lead of the group as they start to push through the crowds again, “he should be ready by now. or we’ll just bother him if he’s not.”

she waves to the people she knows and smiles at the ones she’s only seen in passing, trying to be polite. her status in the place has come in equal parts from her job and relationship with rintaro. in her last year of college, she'd decided to look into jobs within the sports industry. pulling in favors from old contacts, she had landed a job in publicity and taking photos of sporting events, along with akaashi. under kuroo’s management, they both followed multiple volleyball games. she tried her best to stay with rintaro’s team and akaashi often stayed with bokuto’s team.

when she had the time, she’d pick up a few portrait requests to keep things from getting mundane, although that was impossible anyway with rintaro in her life. they were nearly inseparable; you could always find them at each other's side. even as they tried to navigate through the party they were at now, he eventually caught up to her, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep them from getting separated while omi followed behind them.

they’d get stopped by old faces she hadn’t seen in years and new faces she’d never seen, but that rintaro apparently knew. he’d introduce her as her wife, and sometimes the name still got to her. she’d feel her ears burn as he reached down to hold her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze and rub his thumb across the wedding ring adorning her finger–a habit he had picked up and would likely never get rid of.

really, he’d been by her side for longer than just in these past few years. she’d been at his side since they were high schoolers, through the small lunch boxes she made for the four boys she had known closest then, and he was by her side through all of college. he was by her side watching her develop photos, listening to the stories behind them, and her stressors. then, they had been by each other sides officially the moment they had put that heart lock on that fence; a mark that would last longer than the both of them, even into their next life, where they’d find each other once more and fall in love with each other all over again.

prev. | m.list

extras <3

that's a wrap ? ! ?

most likely a few bonuses! which i will continue to tag people for but just dm me if you don't want to be tagged for them <3

i think this is obvious, i tried to explain it a little bit in the written part but y/n did end up going into sports photography again!! she kind of missed it and thought it'd be fun to work closely with rintaro <3

idk what else to say! love notes is my child i will love her forever :) i hope you all enjoyed reading!

mbb and inked references always!!

taglist: @0moonii @iluvmang @bluebeanbee @wyrcan @oyasumeii @zumicho @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @eggyrocks @guitarstringed-scars @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 @wolffmaiden @rockleeisbaeeee @toges-cough-syrup @cnnmairoll @ryeyeyer @hibernatinghamster @localgaytrainwreck @lemonocity @bows4life @sereniteav @madiexuberant @eclecticeggknightpsychic @phoenix-eclipses @sonicsolos @httpakkeiji @brkfclub @snail-squasher @starry-magicshop @cr4yolaas @kitnootkat @zzzlevislothzzz @iluv-ace @iluvaquaphor @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @applepi25 @twiishaa @girlkissersco @sleepystrwbrryy @encrypta

[cabinofimagines]

Sick Birthday

I am not winning this year. This fic was written solely because i felt shitty and my birthday is today (when this is posted lol) and i had plans but SOMEONE (my entire nuclear family) decided to get SICK (im not blaming them just upset i can't bake cake for them and have dinner with them and etc etc etc) (there are still other bday celebrations which i will have) (I just hope that my sick feelings ALSO go away when i wake up in the morning and that i was just sleep deprived) Sorry for the rant. Anyways! It's my birthday :), the banner pic is beanjamin in the flesh. Pairing: Poly!Solangelo x reader, Will Solace x reader x Nico di Angelo Request: No! Word count: 1.2k Warnings: Vomit mentions, general sickness. -Asnyox

Today was supposed to be a special day. You thought it would be- you had planned everything out beforehand, the cake, the invites, the one free day this month that all your friends could show up. But then the first camper came down with a stomach bug, and then the second and before you knew it the birthday prep started getting mixed with the extra shifts in the infirmary. Nico got it as one of the first people, Will not too long after. You counted yourself lucky, nothing could hurt you, right? Nico and Will were already better again, so everyone should be able to attend. Your birthday was going to be in two days- none of the gods hated you that much.

Except two days before your party you were hanging above the toilet bowl. As you felt like you reached the bottom of your stomach you moved away and leaned against the wall. You felt a little silly about the sorrow which you felt. Certainly you were tired, but come on you just wanted a get together, to see your friends and feel celebrated. 

But you were just being silly.You weren’t up to it, so Nico called everyone with the news and the rain check. Will offered to be your personal doctor, but you were just without any energy and feeling quite miserable so you told him to just focus on everyone else instead. 

Nico didn’t want to feel too guilty about probably giving you the stomach bug. He also didn’t care about his own birthday that much- but he knew you valued birthdays. He knew because every year you organized something for him, every year Will did something because he knew you enjoyed celebrating them. Every year you try to celebrate your own birthday, making all the preparations and stressing an appropriate amount for one's birthday. Nico knew you were upset, and he knew you would pretend to be fine. Nico might not understand exactly why you care so much about birthdays, but he knew you did and just couldn’t figure out how to make it right. You were going to be sick on your birthday and he hated it. 

Whereas Will decided to focus his energy into healing you in every way possible. He had seen you get more tired the days before you officially got down with the bug. If anything, the way you deflated when you asked Nico to call everything off had his heart aching. Sure, you were firstly stressed about going to the store still, as the plan had been to go last week but it was simply too busy to go, but now you were unable to go anyways. 

At least since the bug had already passed through most of your siblings, you were staying in your cabin. Since it was already past breakfast, your boyfriends gathered up some easy to digest foods and made their way to you. Nico had their presents for you, all wrapped up. He hoped that even if you couldn’t celebrate, they could at least make you feel a little better. 

You had hoped that this morning you would miraculously feel better. Perhaps then you could still do something- hang with your lovers, maybe get some of the closer living friends together. But no, your body was against you. For birthdays to always seem so big and magical, only to just be another day when you’re sick felt like a crime to you. Mostly though you were upset at how upset you were. How did you never realize how important your birthday is to you, unless you’re missing it. At first you thought you might just have been upset at the change of plans because you had planned it all, but then you figured it was missing your friends, missing the shot to have them all come over and talk to them. Sure you never needed a reason, but having a reason on a set date was always nice. And now you were stuck in bed, hugging Beanjamin close, as you blinked away some more tears. 

“How is our birthday buddy doing?” Will’s voice sounded careful. You quickly wiped some residue tears away before turning around in your bed to face your boyfriends. You didn’t feel like sitting up just yet.  “I’m still nauseous, but it is less than yesterday.” You sighed, “Also rub it in that all I’m getting this year is puke.” 

“That’s not true,” Will mused as he crouched before your bed, “firstly you are getting some breakfast if you’re up for it, if not at least some water.” You stared at Will for a beat before slowly going to sit up. Nico was moving your pillow in no time, so you could lean against the wall next to your bed. You spotted the gift bag prepped up against your bed, but didn’t say anything. Something about being polite about it. 

Will checked once more what you wanted to eat and carefully watched while you ate. He seemed content with the fact you were at least ingesting foods now, so with a little ‘proud of you!’ and other encouragement you got down a semi decent breakfast. As soon as that was over, you leaned your head against Nico’s shoulder, as he had sat down next to you and kept Beanjamin safe from any spills. Beanjamin was his plushie, but he had lend it to you as you weren’t feeling well, a guardian of sorts. As you closed your eyes for a little, you didn’t react to the knock on the cabin door. You felt Will get up from the bag, and opened your eyes as he let someone in. 

“Special delivery from Hermes express,” said Hermes himself, as he emptied his sack full of post. After he was done he winked, before going “And a happy birthday, kiddo,” and disappearing to wherever his next delivery was. You sat up a little more, eyeing the small pile of stuff and letters on your floor. 

“Did you set this up?” you eyed Nico who just shrugged. “I didn’t ask anyone, did tell them you were bumped about not celebrating your birthday,” Nico moved off the bed, grabbing a blanket and putting it on the floor, “You want to get started? Only go so many hours on your birthday.” 

You sat on the blanket, boyfriend on each side as they helped you spit through the mail. Most of your friends had written cards, small promises of ‘we should still meet to celebrate!’, ‘hey sucks to miss you but love you nonetheless!’ and a few ‘feel better’ did help to lift the mood. Some had included a present- care packages, birthday gifts, a pair of knit gloves from Hazel. If anything, you might have shed another tear or two simply feeling the love your friends held for you, and even though you didn’t do much special you felt like you were celebrated.