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navybrat817 · 7 months ago

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You're a Firework

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're all set to watch fireworks with the gang and Bucky can't keep his hands to himself. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, semi-public sexy times, pet names, inner monologue, established relationship, humor, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I KNOW it's Steve's birthday, but my muse demanded Stud and Smartie. ❤️ I'm so sorry, lovelies. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You know,” Natasha began as she handed you a drink. “You and Bucky could've had your wedding today. No one would have objected.”

“With Steve's birthday right around the corner? And take away from Sam’s amazing barbeque? No way,” you smiled, stepping out of the way as Clint walked by with sparklers in each hand. You refused to take attention away from either of them. “I’m glad we’re all hanging out though.”

Today was a good day. Not only was the weather as close to perfect as it could get, not too warm or too cold, it was a chance to get together and mingle since everyone had a few days off. Between the sunshine, food, and games, the gang had a lot of fun. You imagined your wedding reception would be fun, too.

Maybe the two of you could even have sparklers to celebrate, if only to entertain Clint.

“Bucky called you his wife earlier,” the redhead commented.

“He did?” You smiled, your heart swelling.

“He did. When you beat Sam at horseshoes, he looked right at Steve and said, ‘that’s my wife' with a huge smile on his face.”

Yeah, I am. Almost.

You nearly swooned, giving your fiancé a glance as he set his chair by the fire pit. “And that’s my husband.”

Natasha lightheartedly rolled her eyes and nudged you. “Better go and join him then. The fireworks are going to start soon,” she said, heading to her seat beside Clint. The town was shooting off fireworks in the nearby park, but you all decided it was better to hang back. The yard was a great spot to view them and no one had to worry about the crowd.

“Be right there,” you said, shivering as a light breeze rolled in. Sam had the fire going, but you hadn't realized how chilly it was now that it was dark. Grabbing your blanket from your bag nearby, you also realized as you walked over to the gang that there wasn't a place for you to sit. Bucky looked your way with a gentle smile and patted his thigh before you could ask if there was an extra chair available inside. You caught a glimpse of heat in his eyes as you made your way closer.

You loved that look.

“Is that my seat?” You asked.

“This could be your seat.” Bucky pointed at his face as you bit your lip. If everyone wasn’t around, you’d consider it. “But this one might be more comfortable to watch the fireworks,” he added, patting his massive thigh again.

His face. His thigh. Both were incredible places to sit.

“Yeah, comfortable. That’s the word,” you teased, shrieking as he dragged you onto his lap once you were within reach. You were lucky you didn't spill your drink. “Easy, tiger.”

He growled and nuzzled your neck once you situated yourself and placed your drink the cup holder. “This tiger will also keep you warm,” he promised.

“Aww. You two are just the cutest,” Sam said, swigging his beer with a chuckle when Bucky huffed.

“Yeah, we are. And in case you forgot, my girl kicked your ass earlier. Beauty, brains, and brawn,” he boasted. You didn’t have to look back to see the smug smile on his face. “Proud of you.”

I will not get giddy or aroused from that praise.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll get you next time,” Sam scoffed, looking over at you with a smile to let you know it was in good fun. He was a good guy, like Steve. You hoped they each found someone who made them feel the way Bucky made you feel.

“Or she’ll kick your ass again,�� Bucky said without skipping a beat.

Oh, boys. So endearing. So competitive.

“Enough of that. Sam, I’m pretty sure I got lucky and I’d love a rematch. Stud, you just concentrate on keeping me warm,” you teased, draping the blanket over both of you. His embrace was always warm. “Surprised we don't have s’mores.”

“Those are for after the fireworks,” Steve said from the other side of you.

You smiled over at him before tilting your head back to gaze at Bucky. You weren't sure if the guys did it on purpose, but they each wore the same tight fitting T-shirt in patriotic colors. They all looked handsome, but your man looked look sex on legs. The love of your life would always turn your head.

“Not for us,” Bucky said, placing a kiss on your shoulder as his hand rested possessively on your hip. “We’re going to bed.”

You giggled and snuggled back against him when the rest of the gang protested. “But what if I want a s'more?”

“I’ll personally make you one and feed it to you in bed,” he half growled.

“You’re really not going to stay up with us?” Steve asked, a knowing look on his face.

“Oh, I’m sure something will get up,” Natasha deadpanned, making everyone laugh. She wasn't wrong.

“On your birthday, we’ll stay up as late as you want. Tonight, we’re watching the fireworks and going to bed,” Bucky grumbled, brushing a finger over your engagement ring. “Unless you really want to stay out here.”

You giggled again. Bucky had to share your attention with everyone all day and was still sharing it now. He was more than ready to have you all to himself. You understood the feeling.

“I’m fine with going inside after the fireworks. We’ll check on the cats and then go to bed,” you assured him.

With everyone drinking, you all decided it was better to crash in the same place instead of going home. Neither of you wanted to leave Alpine or Soot at your place though in case any neighbors decided to shoot fireworks off the roof, so you brought them over. They had a space set up under the guest bed with some white noise to help block out some of the sound. Anything to help put them at ease.

Bucky tilted your chin a bit more to place a soft kiss on your lips, the tension crackling like the fireworks had already started. “Thank you, Smartie.”

“You’re welcome, Stud.”

As if on cue, the show began.

You looked up at the sky in awe as the first firework rushed into the air. An explosion followed by a vivid display of light, they were like rainbows in the night brightening the darkness with color. They were beauty and wonder, a form of art that faded almost as quickly as it was created. Watching with loved ones made it all the more special.

You tilted your head and smiled when you caught Bucky staring back at you. “Why aren't you looking at the sky?”

“Why aren't you?” He teased, bumping his nose against yours. “Besides, I don't need to watch the sky when I have the most beautiful view right here.”

Your cheeks warmed. So did your heart. “You flatter me so,” you whispered, looking back at the sky again.

Bangs, crackles, and thunderous sounds continued to fill the air with the gorgeous display. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face. You almost regretted not having your phone beside you so you could take some pictures.

Though you likely would’ve dropped it when you felt Bucky’s hand move from your hip to under your skirt.

“Stud?” You gasped, quickly looking around as his hand trailed up your thigh. No one was looking your way. They were too occupied with the fireworks.

“Just keep looking at the sky, Smartie,” he said against your ear, your legs opening more as his hand found its prize. “And I'll keep touching you.”

Oh, fuck.

You shivered in his grasp despite the blanket and his body providing more than enough heat. His touch was possessive yet tender and you could feel your body turn to jelly as he rubbed you through your panties. You tried to concentrate on the colors above you, the material damp from his expert touch. And you couldn't stop your heart from pounding in your ears, adding the explosive noises around you.

More fireworks went off, but you blocked out the “oohs” of your friends as he pushed the wet fabric aside. “Bucky,” you whimpered, biting your tongue when he traced a finger along your slick pussy.

“I’ve wanted to touch you all day,” he whispered against your neck, teasing your folds. Your hole clenched before the fingertip even touched it. “I can't believe you’re mine. Keep asking myself how I got so lucky.”

I’m the lucky one.

His finger breached you, making you gasp and grip his arm. His palm pressed against your clit and you couldn’t help but push your hips down, seeking out more friction. You wanted to take care of him, too. Maybe when the two of you went to bed…

Another finger slipped in, curling and thrusting quickly. If you were at home, he’d take more time in taking you apart. He wouldn't stop until you soaked the sheets and even then he might keep going. And he'd make sure you were a quivering mess, mewling and begging for mercy or reprieve.

“Have I told you today how much I love you, babydoll?” He asked, static pleasure coursing through your body as you climbed higher.

Orgasms were a lot like fireworks. Some tumbled slowly in the sky, like a slow fire that coursed through your veins. Others exploded, so large and powerful that you couldn’t keep the sounds of awe in. Then there were small bursts, the ones that got the job done and still felt good.

You wondered what kind of orgasm Bucky would give you tonight.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, colors dancing behind your eyes as you shut them.

You wanted to shout how much you loved Bucky Barnes. You wanted your love for him to burst through the sky like a shooting star. But you didn’t need to put on a show for him to know you were his. He knew you belonged to him.

But you’d still have to try and keep quiet as you clenched around his fingers.

“Please,” you whispered, ready to fall over the edge as his palm rubbed your clit again.

Your head turned and his mouth slanted against yours to swallow down your moan. “Open your eyes,” he whispered, his fingers curling once more as you listened to his command and watched the colors light up his blue eyes. “And come for me.”

Your walls pulsed as the finale began, your cry drowned out by the rapid booms. Your wetness coated his fingers, every nerve cell vibrating as brilliant hues illuminated the sky. The hues swirled in your dizzying head, too. You were flying. Sinking. Floating.

You were a firework.

“Beautiful,” Bucky whispered, guiding you back to him.

Your body stayed lax against his, wishing he didn't have to take his fingers out. “You’re beautiful,” you exhaled, watching him subtly bring his hand to his mouth to taste your release. “Menace,” you added.

This man. I really just let him finger bang me with everyone sitting around.

“Yeah, I am,” he smiled, placing another kiss on your lips as Steve and Sam got up. Natasha and Clint were already up, too, to get more drinks.

If anyone knew what happened, they didn't draw any attention to it.

“Those were even better than last year,” Sam said.

“They were. And now we can have s'mores,” the blonde smiled, stopping to look at his best friend. “I thought you two were going to bed.”

“In a minute,” Bucky said, shifting his hips under yours to let you feel how hard he was. Getting you off turned him on. “Think I need to relax a bit more.”

Yeah, so no one sees you walking around with a raging hard-on.

You wiggled your hips, smiling when your fiancé quietly groaned. “Yeah. Relax,” you sighed, feeling him squeeze your thigh in a warning.

Well, he wanted your attention before and now he had it.

And I’ll make him see fireworks before the night is over, too.

Stud and Smartie need to talk to my muse and make sure Steve has a good birthday. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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themisplaceddemigod · 8 months ago

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Hi there! Can I req PJO Apollo x Reader anything! There’s not enough Apollo fics. Just something romantic and cute! Thank you !!! <3

hi! I'd love to write more Apollo content, I also think there's too few!

pick me

PJO!Apollo x Princess!Reader

summary - you met Apollo before your father called for suitors, so you're amused when he appears before your father as a mortal, pretending to be a suitor. just for fun.

warnings - none, but not proofread

Your love of music is what drew the sun god's attention. Any moment you could, you'd either be sitting by your lyre and creating new melodies, or taking a serene walk in the palace gardens while singing. So it was no surprise when Apollo showed up one day during your walk.

As soon as you saw him, you knew instantly that he was no mortal. Power radiated off him in waves, and his body glowed with a faint golden light.

"So which one are you then?" You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

The god was visibly taken aback, "Which one am- the handsomest one, obviously!" He puffed out his chest proudly.

"I see...so Lord Poseidon? Though I've heard he usually shows up as an older man with darker hair and greener eyes." The mischievous twinkle in your eye revealed your devious intentions.

Apollo chuckled, relaxed now that he knew you were messing with him, "I assure you, I am so much better looking than my uncle."

"I'd love to agree, but I don't want to die."

Another laugh from the sun god, "As long as I'm here, I promise you no harm will come to you." He stepped closer to you, following you along the path lined with rose bushes.

A blush rose to your cheeks, and you cast your gaze to the blooming flowers, "May I ask what your business with me is, Lord Apollo?"

"Please, call me Apollo. And that's simple; I'm here to court you."

Apollo was a fun, spontaneous and affectionate lover. He would often just appear in your bedroom and sweep you off for a date, more so than he would actually plan one. He spent time teaching you how to play different instruments, and often liked to lay his head on your lap while listening to you play or even sing.

He gifted you all sorts of things, but usually called himself your best gift which you couldn't deny. Kisses with him were either slow and sweet, or passionate and fiery depending on his mood. He was also a cuddler, something you learned when you woke up in his arms one morning after falling asleep out of them.

The time you spent with him made you happier than anything else, and you found yourself falling in love. You didn't want anyone but him, because no one would be able to make you feel the way he made you feel.

The news that your father was looking for potential husbands for you reached your kingdom and others before it reached your ears. You were devastated, your relationship with Apollo at the forefront of your mind.

Panic filled you as you rushed to your usual meeting place with the god, fear of what he would think clouding your mind. You'd been enjoying being romanced by him, you didn't want to lose it.

"Apollo-"

"I know," he interrupted you calmly, before smiling and greeting you like usual. A hug and a sweet, slow kiss followed by a forehead peck.

"You're not upset?" You frowned.

He let out a loud laugh, pulling you close to rest against his chest, "I'm a god, love, I have nothing to fear from mortal competition." Then, before you spoke, "But if your father wants a proposal from a mortal suitor, I can comply."

"What do you mean by that?" You asked, nervously eyeing him.

He just smiled and kissed you again, "You'll see."

The day of the ball your father had arranged to find a husband for you came faster than you'd anticipated, and as you got ready in your room with your handmaidens, you couldn't help but feel nervous.

What if he didn't show up? What if your father chose another suitor before he arrives? What if your father rejected his proposal?

"Something wrong, princess?" One of your handmaidens asked, a soft and understanding look on her face. She was always close to you, and knew how much you didn't want this.

"No, nothing," you forced a smile, "Just wondering who's down there."

"The finest princes in all the land, I'm sure," she put the finishing touches before stepping away. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," you smiled at her again, this time genuine.

When you reached the top of the last flight of stairs that led down into the ballroom, your heart almost stopped at the sight of dozens of princes and noblemen from all over milling about.

Then your eyes met a set of electric blue ones, and all your nerves faded away as your body relaxed. You descended the stairs and greeted every suitor as you passed, their compliments not bringing you as much joy as Apollo's did.

You were heading towards the god - who had made good on his promise and looked mortal, dressed in princely attire and significantly less godly features - but still striking.

"(Name)!" Your father called cheerfully, "Come meet Prince (Random Name)! He's from our neighbouring kingdom!"

You didn't really want to, but you walked over and offered the young prince the best smile you could muster. Which was pretty convincing, because you'd had practice.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my lady," the prince smiled back and lifted your hand, kissing your knuckles. "You truly are the jewel of this kingdom."

As you laughed and played shy in response to his comment, Apollo was watching the exchange irritably. After a few more minutes he couldn't stand it, and walked over to your small group with the intention of stealing you away.

"Excuse me," he politely interrupted the conversation, "May I ask the beautiful princess for a dance?"

"Yes," you answered, a little too eagerly.

Apollo just smiled and took your hand, leading you to the middle of the ballroom where the older couples were dancing slowly. As the two of you joined them, you sighed in relief.

"I was wondering when you were going to come over."

"Maybe I just wanted to give him false hope," the sun god teased, his eyes once again enchanting you beyond words.

"You're still so handsome," you blushed, "What if they suspect-"

"Even if they do," Apollo twirled you around and then pulled you back, so now his chest was pressing against your back. "What can they do? Refusing a god would have terrible consequences."

"Mhm, I guess you're right," you relaxed again, butterflies blooming in your stomach as the two of you swayed side to side in this position.

"Always am."

He did have to let you go, however, as your father insisted you dance with a few of the princes as well just so you could be sure. None of them interested you, none of them attracted you and none of them entertained you the way the sun god did.

The entire time you danced and listened to their boring tales, you locked eyes with Apollo across the room. He was silently laughing at your predicament, amused that you were suffering so and smug that you had eyes for no one but him.

And then your father struck up a conversation with him, seeing how you were so interested in him, and this time it was your turn to be amused as you watched the Olympian try his best to maintain a mortal appearance both physically and through his words.

It was quite funny seeing him like this, pretending to be another suitor interested in marrying you.

Towards the end of the ball, you took to your throne - beside your father's in exhaustion. You'd danced with nearly every prince there and your feet were killing you.

"See anyone you like yet?" Your father asked as he sat down next to you in his own throne.

"Well, actually-" You began, only to be cut off.

"I would like to ask for the princess's hand in marriage," a voice cut you off, and you both turned to see Apollo approaching.

You tried to stifle your giggle, especially when he winked at you. Keeping a straight face was difficult, but you managed as your father eyed Apollo.

"What kingdom are you from again?"

"Olympus."

You choked when he said that, your eyes going wide. The two men turned to you, concerned, but you waved their worry off.

"Did you just say-"

"Mount Olympus?" The sun god repeated, "Yes I did." And then he changed, assuming the form he liked the appear in when interacting with mortals - the same one you were used to seeing.

Your father instantly bowed his head, "Lord Apollo! I-I didn't know you were among us tonight!"

"I was trying to keep it that way," Apollo replied, suddenly approaching you, "But then I figured, what king would refuse a god?"

He held his hand out to you, and you took it as a deep blush fell over your cheeks. Your father's gaze moved to your intertwined hands as you moved close to the god, that familiar feeling he gave you washing over you and making you shy and flustered.

"My daughter?" Your father asked in shock.

"She's quite the gifted musician," the sun god praised, "And she's got a pretty voice. But more than that, she didn't even recognise me!"

Your father's face paled, "My lord, I'm so-"

"Well she actually did, but she pretended not to. Which was cute, actually." Apollo did not shy away from the details of your meeting, and he basically told your father your entire relationship story. "But this was fun! Unfortunately, she and I will be going now."

Before your father could protest, he'd taken you to your favourite spot. At the look on your face, he chuckled.

"That was fun, wasn't it? Now he'll get off your back about marriage."

"You-you just-" You were too stunned, still blushing profusely.

"Improvised that last part?" He finished for you. "Mhm. Your reaction was worth it, I can't believe you choked!"

"Apollo!"

He just laughed and wrapped his arms around you, smiling and gazing into your eyes lovingly with his dazzling ones. You shied away from his gaze, but he tilted your chin up so you could look at him.

And then he kissed you, even slower and sweeter than usual, holding you against him intimately.

And for the first time since Daphne and Hyacinthus, he was in love.

#pjo #hoo #pjo hoo #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo #apollo #apollo x reader #apollo x you

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fullsunstrawberry · 5 months ago

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Dirty little secret

Synopsis: Childhood best friends' relationship is strained when you drunkenly sleep with his new best friend. Chenle’s panic about y/n regretting their one night stand turns into a secret relationship. Just as you think everything is fine, you're faced with the ultimatum: “It’s either him or me.” or in other words: A small silly little pinky promise will destroy a friendship

Genre: friends to lovers, hidden romance, forbidden (not really) lovers??

Content Warnings: swearing, dreamies getting drunk, mention of getting blackout drunk, one-night stand (not described), turned more, ANGST with fluffy end, Jisung is a little shit in this, very vanilia and sweet smut.

Word count: 7k

a/n: sorry this was a bit later than i expected for it come out! a lot of stuff popped up this weekend :( ALSO I HAVE TO TAG @lowkeychenle IN EVERYTHING CHENLE RELATED SOOOO LOVE YAH <3

Teaser Taglist: @haechansbbg @bunnychui @theandypark @bigjugz03 @babbymochiiii @xrminarlert34

"Come on! You never miss a hangout," Jisung whined into the phone.

“They always end up with me getting drunk and sleeping on the dorm couch, no thanks,” you replied.

“This time it’s at Chenle’s house. You can even sleep call dibs on his spare bedroom!” Jisung reasoned.

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” You already knew the answer.

“Nope, see you later!”

Once Jisung ended the call, you had a moment to think. Great, you got yourself into another hangout. It’s not that you hate hanging out with the guys, but you've started to develop a little crush on Chenle.

He’s been extra flirty with you lately. It’s not because he likes you. He's been playful with everyone! Well, that's what you try to tell yourself.

But you can't like him! Jisung would go nuts. He was the one to introduce you to all the guys, promising you wouldn't like any of them when you were twelve. But it seems like Jisung has held you up to that silly pinky promise.

One time you told Jisung that Renjun's new haircut looked really good on him and he freaked out, claiming you were falling for him and it was against the “Bro code.” This made you confused because you’re pretty sure that's not what bro code is, but he looked very upset, so you didn't question it.

Now there is no way you will ever admit to liking Chenle. If he got upset with Renjun, you know he would be furious if you even flirted back with Chenle. That’s his best friend! He’s not the type to be happy about his boy and girl best friend dating. You're sure he’s told Chenle so you never took his flirting too seriously. But that didn't stop your heart from beating after every time he looked at you.

A group of guys yelled as soon as Chenle opened the door. “They’re already this rowdy,” you sighed, already coming up with excuses as to why you had to leave.

Chenle laughed at your disapproval written all over your face. “Stick by me, I swear I'm not as bad as them.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that he was literally the loudest one. You let out a “mmh” before walking around him to be greeted with a bunch of “Y/NNNNs.” You could definitely tell they started drinking without you by the way Donghyuck reached out to you with grabby hands.

“Already starting without me!” you grabbed an already-opened beer on the table and took a swig out of it.

“It's not our fault you're always late,” Jaemin teased.

“Sorry, I have a life.”

“Reading fanfiction?” Renjun giggled.

“Can’t believe I'm already getting attacked, I just arrived!”

“I told you to stick by me,” Chenle laughed.

“You're right. It’s me and you now… Let’s get drunk!” You smiled, grabbing another beer to give to Chenle.

You're glad you didn't have to wake up on a couch hungover. Waking up in a bed surrounded by the comfiest blanket wrapped around you felt like heaven. Not ever wanting to wake up.

You stretched to feel the coldness of the other side of the bed. But your leg hit another leg that wasn't your own. You don’t remember anything after Donghyuck’s karaoke challenge. Did someone sleep over too? Mark was supposed to pick up the guys and bring them back to the dorm… Maybe he forgot?

Moving your head to see who ended up passed out with you, you froze.

“WHY DON’T I HAVE ANY CLOTHES ON?!?”

Should you look? Should you not look? You slowly turn your head to check who you fell asleep with. Maybe you didn't hook up with one of your friends… Maybe you were just overheated and took off your clothes.

Turning over, you yelp in shock. Chenle is still sleeping next to you. Even worse, he’s shirtless, and you don’t really want to check under the sheets to confirm your suspicions.

But before you could panic any further, you noticed that Chenle was still sound asleep, a peaceful expression on his face. You took a moment to calm yourself down and gather your thoughts. Maybe there was a logical explanation for this situation.

You carefully wiggled out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Chenle. As you grabbed your clothes scattered across the room, memories of last night started to flood back. The drunken laughter, the friendly banter, and the way all of the guys left. All you could remember was cleaning up the kitchen because you felt bad leaving it such a mess.

Then Chenle's hands grabbed yours in protest and said he would clean it up in the morning. But instead of agreeing you tried to pull his hands away which caused him to press into you.

Shaking your head to bring yourself back to reality you quickly threw your clothes back on and made your way downstairs. Needing some water because of how dry your throat felt. You didn't want to even think about why your throat hurt...

Once downstairs you can finally think about what the hell just happened. But no, life hates you. Instead, you were met with Mark washing dishes.

"Finally you woke up" Mark laughed before turning around and being met with a face he did not expect to see.

"Why did you come down from Chenle’s room?"

You blinked at Mark's question, trying to come up with a plausible response. "Oh, I just woke up and wanted some water," you stammered, attempting to act casual.

Mark raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Water? Really? Because it looked like you were in quite a rush to get out of there."

You felt the heat rising to your cheeks as you fumbled for words. "I just... didn't want to disturb Chenle. He's still sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him up."

Mark's eyes narrowed, studying your face. "Uh-huh. Sure." He seemed unconvinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he went back to washing the dishes.

You took the opportunity to escape the awkward situation and headed towards the kitchen table “What do I do Mark, I fucked up.”

Mark sighed, turned off the water, and dried his hands on a kitchen towel before looking at you with a serious expression. "Well, it depends on what you want. Did something happen between you and Chenle last night?"

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with Mark. "I don't remember much, but I woke up in his bed, and I think we hooked up. I have no idea what went down, and I'm panicking."

Mark sighed again, his expression softening. "Look, Y/N, shit happens. People get drunk, things get blurry. Maybe nothing happened, or maybe something did. The important thing is to communicate with Chenle. Figure out what both of you remember and how you both feel about it."

"But what if he thinks it’s gross or something?" you worriedly questioned.

Mark shook his head. "Chenle is a good guy, and he knows how things can happen when everyone's been drinking. Just talk to him. Honesty is the key here."

Taking a deep breath, you nodded.

• ──────── •

Before you could process the situation, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the stairs. Chenle, struggling to pull on his hoodie and hastily reaching for his keys, descended in a rush of movement.

"Easy there, you going to hurt yourself" Mark teased, chuckling as Chenle glanced up with an expression of sheer panic.

"Mark, fuck! I messed up big time. Y/N's going to hate me, and she'll never want to see me again. I genuinely like her, and I've messed everything up," Chenle exclaimed, the urgency in his voice evident.

Mark raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with you. "Well, you might want to talk to her about that instead of assuming the worst," he suggested.

Chenle's eyes widened as he finally noticed your presence. "Y/N, I... I'm so sorry if I did something wrong. I don't really remember what happened, but I know we something did happen, and now I'm just freaking out," he rambled, looking genuinely distressed.

You took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in the room. "Chenle, let's just talk about it, okay? I don't remember much either, but panicking won't help. We need to figure out what actually happened and how we both feel about it."

Chenle nodded, relief washing over his face. "Yeah, you're right. We should talk." He looked at Mark, who gave him an encouraging nod.

“This is something you two have to figure out.” Mark grabbed his jacket and left.

As Mark left, you and Chenle sat down at the kitchen table, exchanging nervous glances. The awkwardness in the air was noticeable, but both of you knew that avoiding the conversation wouldn't solve anything.

"Okay, so, let's try to piece together what happened last night," you suggested, breaking the silence.

Chenle nodded, his eyes focused on the table. "I remember the guys leaving, and you were helping me with the dishes. Then... things got a bit blurry."

You sighed, realizing that your memories matched his. "Yeah, I remember that too. But after that, it's all a blur. I woke up in your bed, and we're both... well, you know."

Chenle ran his fingers through his hair, looking frustrated. "I don't want things to be weird between us. I genuinely like you, Y/N. I just hope I didn't mess everything up."

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his. "Chenle, I really like you too. Maybe we can start over?"

Chenle's eyes brightened at your words, a genuine smile forming on his face. "Yeah, let's start over. How about I take you to a restaurant and we can finish this conversation.”

“Are you asking me on a date!” You smiled.

Chenle grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah, I am. I think we could both use a fresh start. We can go right now!”

You laughed and shook your head ‘no’ “We can go later, I have to get ready for it.”

“Oh…yeah ops” Chenle laughed standing back up “How about tonight?”

“Can’t wait a little longer?” You teased.

“Hell no! Not when it comes to you.”

You couldn't help but blush at Chenle's enthusiastic response. "Alright then, tonight it is. I'll make sure to be ready for our date."

Chenle grinned, his excitement contagious. "Perfect! I'll pick you up later.

• ──────── •

As you got ready for the date, you took extra care with your appearance. You wanted to make a good impression, to show Chenle that you were genuinely interested in exploring this connection further. You could already feel the butterflies in your stomach

The hours crept by slowly, each minute feeling like an eternity as anticipation filled the air.

Finally, the moment arrived. Chenle looked exceptionally handsome in his casual attire, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He smiled warmly as he handed them to you, his eyes filled with genuine affection.

"You look…beautiful," he said softly, causing your cheeks to flush with a rosy hue.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling yourself becoming more at ease in his presence. "You look pretty amazing yourself."

Chenle chuckled and offered you his arm. "Shall we?”

You linked your arm with his, nodding with a smile. "Let's go."

The date with Chenle was everything you’d hoped for and more. The restaurant was a familiar place, a small little shop that you once mentioned wanting to visit before. The atmosphere was cozy and inviting, with wooden tables, soft cushions, and flickering candles that cast gentle shadows on the walls. Soft music played in the background, a soothing blend of piano and strings that set the perfect mood for the evening.

Chenle was charming from the moment he sat down, his eyes sparkling with excitement and if you didn’t know him well you could have missed the nervousness he expressed through his body language. He pulled your chair out for you, a sweet gesture that made your heart flutter.

“You remembered?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“Of course I did,” he replied, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been looking forward to taking you here.” You tried to keep your blush in check, but his smile made it impossible.

His earlier jitters seemed to fade as the night went on, replaced by genuine enthusiasm. He asked about your day, listened intently, and shared stories that made you laugh, his laughter infectious. It was clear he had put thought into every aspect of the evening, from the restaurant choice to the easy flow of conversation.

Throughout the evening, Chenle’s attentiveness and charm were evident. He complimented you effortlessly. “I know I already told you but you look absolutely beautiful,” he said sincerely.

“Thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm. “You’re not looking too shabby yourself.” You joked, earning a small laugh from him.

As the waiter brought your dishes, Chenle made a toast. “To a fantastic evening and getting to know each other even better.”

You clinked glasses. “To new beginnings.”

You both laughed together, “Was that too cheesy?” Chenle asked.

You shook your head no, “This is just crazy, I didn’t expect all of this from you. You know? Being so romantic!”

Chenle chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "I wanted to make sure our first real date was special. I know things got off to a confusing start, but I really like you, Y/N. I want to see where this can go."

Your heart fluttered at his words, feeling a warmth spread on your cheeks. "I really like you too, Chenle. And I appreciate all the effort you've put into tonight."

The conversation flowed easily. You shared stories, jokes, and dreams, discovering things you never knew about each other. Chenle's eyes never left yours, his gaze soft.

“You know,” Chenle said, leaning in slightly, “I’ve been really looking forward to this. It’s been a while since I’ve had a date where I felt this comfortable.”

“I’m glad you’re having a good time,” you said, your heart fluttering at his words. “I am too.”

During a brief pause in the conversation, Chenle reached across the table and took your hand. “I’ve been thinking,” he said softly, “I really enjoy being with you. I’d love for us to spend more time together, if you’re up for it.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I’d like that a lot.”

Chenle smiled, a mix of relief and happiness on his face. “Great. I was hoping you would.”

As the night drew to a close, Chenle walked you to your door. The night air was cool against your skin, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves overhead.

“Do you think we can make this a regular thing?” Chenle asked, his voice hopeful.

You smiled warmly. “I’d like that a lot.”

Chenle’s face lit up with a bright, genuine grin. “Me too. I’m really glad we talked things through.”

He leaned in, and for a brief, breathless moment, you thought he might kiss you. But instead, he pulled you into a warm hug, holding you close.

When you finally pulled away and said goodnight, you closed the door with a smile on your face, feeling like you were floating on air. Chenle had gone beyond all your expectations, and as you leaned against the door, you couldn’t help but replay the night in your mind, already missing him.

Reaching into your bag you grabbed your phone and called Chenle. The phone rang a couple of times before he picked up.

“Hey, you miss me already?” Chenle’s voice came through the phone.

You chuckled at his playful tone. “Maybe… only just a little bit.”

“What’s on your mind?” Chenle's voice held a teasing lilt as he waited for your response.

You hesitated for a moment, mumbling “Just wishing you would have kissed me”

Chenle went silent for a moment, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again. "Well, I can fix that."

Before you could even process his words, you heard a light knock on your door. Confusion filled you as you made your way back, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you. As you opened the door, there stood Chenle, breath heavy.

"Surprise," he said softly.

Your heart leaped in your chest as Chenle closed the gap between you, cupping your face gently with his free hand. Leaning in, Chenle pressed his lips against yours in a soft, tender kiss.

As Chenle pulled back slightly, his eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. But all he found was a dazed smile on your face. With a chuckle, he leaned in again, deepening the kiss.

His hands found your waist and he pressed you further into your house. With one foot, he closed the door behind him, never breaking the kiss between you two.

Chenle pulled away, a small whine leaving your lips in the absence of his touch. He chuckled before making sure your door was locked and turning back towards you.

Without a word, Chenle lifted you effortlessly into his arms, carrying you towards the living room and towards your bedroom. He set you down gently on your bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he caressed your cheek with a tender touch.

The tension filled the room. Chenle's gaze was intense, you could feel your heart racing.

"I've been thinking of you," he confessed, his voice husky with emotion. "I can't hold back anymore."

You reached up to cup his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. "Then don't," you whispered, barely able to believe this was really happening

Chenle’s lips met yours again in an instant, this kiss deeper and more urgent. His hands roamed your sides, pulling you closer, each touch sending shivers down your spine and making you dizzy with desire.

He broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice soft, breathless, but filled with genuine concern.

You nodded, your fingers brushing through his hair. “Yes, I’m sure,” you whispered.

Chenle smiled, his expression softening. “Good,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He trailed kisses down your jawline, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. You tugged him closer, and he responded eagerly, deepening the kiss once more.

Chenle’s movements grew more confident, more assured, as he felt your response. He gently guided you back against the couch, his body hovering over yours. His kisses grew more passionate and demanding as his hands continued to explore. You could feel the tension building between you, the air thick with anticipation of what was going to happen.

In one swift motion, he pulled away just long enough to remove his shirt, tossing it aside before his hands returned to you, now with a new urgency. You mirrored his actions, discarding your dress and pulling him back down, feeling the sensation of his skin against yours. The closeness amplified every touch.

Chenle’s lips trailed down your body, leaving a path of kisses along your collarbone and down to your chest. His hands were everywhere, exploring, teasing, learning every curve and contour of your body. A soft moan escaped your lips as his kisses became more insistent, his mouth and hands working together to drive you wild.

You pulled him closer, needing to feel him, to have every inch of him pressed against you. Your hands roamed his back, your nails lightly scratching as you both lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.

“God, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” Chenle murmured against your skin as he pushed into you. His words sent a fresh wave of warmth through you, and you responded by wrapping your legs around his waist, drawing him even closer. The sensation of him against you, the weight of his body, the heat between you—it was almost too much.

Your breaths mingled, rapid and uneven, as the rhythm between you quickened. Chenle’s hands moved with purpose, guiding your hips as you moved together, a perfect and desperate synchrony that had you both gasping. You could feel every beat of his heart, every shiver of anticipation as you inched closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, i’m so close” Chenle groaned, picking up his pace. You couldn’t even respond, only broken moans leaving your lips.

As both of you hit your climax together, moans and gasps filled the room, giving way to an intense wave of pleasure that washed over you both.

Chenle pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he met your gaze. He wanted to say something but he didn’t instead his body collapsed against the sheets next to you.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your back as you both lay in a comfortable silence. “I don’t want this to end,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

As you drifted off to sleep in Chenle’s arms, the events of the night replayed in your mind, leaving you with a sense of contentment you hadn’t felt in a long time. You didn’t know what was going to happen next.

• ──────── •

Over the next few weeks, your bond with Chenle grew stronger, despite your attempts to keep things under wraps—especially from Jisung. But it was becoming harder to hide. Chenle’s growing affection was obvious, and your friends were starting to pick up on the subtle changes in your behavior.

Chenle conviced the guys to start doing movie night at the guy’s dorms instead of his house. Telling everyone that his house was a mess and he didn’t want to clean it. Hiding the real reason. That they started catching on to you staying later than everyone else. He wanted to be able to hang out after, just the two of you.

“What are we watching tonight?” Mark asked, plopping down in the middle of the couch.

“Avatar,” Renjun suggested.

Donghyuck groaned. “Not Avatar again!”

“We watched *Top Gun* last time, so let’s watch the sequel,” you offered, taking your usual spot at the end of the couch.

Mark nodded and started searching for the movie.

Chenle slid in beside you, so casually that you didn’t think much of it. But in hindsight, you should have known it would cause some tension.

When Jisung finally joined with the popcorn, he automatically moved to sit next to you, just as he always did. But when he saw Chenle already there, he hesitated before sitting down beside him, hiding his confusion. If you hadn’t been so focused on Chenle, you might have noticed the brief furrow in Jisung’s brow. Instead, you were caught up in the excitement of being close to Chenle, hoping to sneak a few quiet moments together.

As the movie began and Jeno turned off the lights, you tried to relax, but Chenle’s presence beside you made your heart race. When his arm brushed against yours and his fingeres brushing against your thigh. Each small touch sent a shiver down your spine.

Jisung, sitting just inches away, stared at the screen, his face unreadable. He usually laughed along with everyone, throwing in his own jokes, but tonight he was unusually quiet. Occasionally, his eyes would drift toward you and Chenle, only to snap back to the movie when you glanced his way. If any of your friends noticed his unease, they didn’t mention it.

Jaemin, oblivious to the tension, tossed a piece of popcorn at Donghyuck after another snide remark about the movie. The usual banter continued, but you could feel a strange tension in the air, something you couldn’t quite understand.

A few scenes into the movie, Chenle’s hand found yours, his fingers lightly brushing yours before intertwining them. The simple gesture felt both comforting and thrilling. You knew you should be more careful, especially with Jisung so close, but it was hard to resist Chenle’s attention.

Jisung shifted uncomfortably. Though you were focused on Chenle, the small movement caught your attention. You turned to look at him just as he glanced away, his expression closed off and distant. It was so unlike him, and it tugged at your conscience.

Suddenly, Jeno, who had been relatively quiet, cleared his throat, catching everyone’s attention. “So... anyone notice how cozy these two are getting?” He nodded toward you and Chenle, a smirk on his face.

The room fell silent for a moment. Your cheeks burned as you pulled your hand from Chenle’s, hoping the dim lighting hid your embarrassment. Chenle chuckled softly, trying to play it off, but you could feel the tension building.

Jaemin snickered. “Took you long enough to notice, Jeno.”

You tried to laugh along, but the awkwardness was overwhelming. Jisung’s face remained unreadable, though you noticed his jaw tighten slightly. You wanted to say something to ease the tension, but the words wouldn’t come.

Mark, always the peacemaker, tried to steer the focus back to the movie. “Alright, let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”

But the mood had shifted. The lighthearted atmosphere was gone, and the weight of unspoken words hung in the air. Jisung’s silence was the most noticeable, and you had a sinking feeling that this wouldn’t end well.

As the movie played on, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Instead, your thoughts swirled, questions nagging at you. What did Jisung think? Is he mad at you and Chenle? And more importantly, why did it matter so much?

When the film ended, everyone scattered—some headed to the kitchen for snacks, while others stayed on the couch, chatting. You felt a strange mix of relief and anxiety, glad that the movie was over but nervous about what might happen next.

As you stood up to stretch, you noticed Jisung was still on the couch, his eyes fixed on the screen as if deep in thought. You hesitated, feeling an urge to talk to him, to address the tension. But before you could do anything, Chenle leaned in close, his voice soft.

“I’m sorry,” Chenle whispered in your ear.

You couldn’t help but smile a little. Turning to face him, you whispered back, “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Squeezing his hand lightly, trying to comfort him.

But you quickly pulled your hand away when you heard Jisung yell, “What is going on?!”

The room fell into a tense silence as Jisung’s voice echoed, his sudden outburst freezing everyone in place. All eyes turned to him, but his gaze was fixed on you and Chenle, a mix of confusion and hurt etched across his face.

You felt your heart drop, panic rising in your chest. Jisung rarely lost his cool, and seeing him like this made the situation all the more real. Chenle, who had been so calm and collected moments before, shifted uncomfortably beside you, clearly taken aback by Jisung's reaction.

Mark was the first to break the silence, his voice tentative. "Jisung, hey, it's just a movie night. Let's all just—"

But Jisung wasn’t having it. "No, it’s not just a movie night, Mark," he snapped, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Chenle. "Something's been going on, and no one's saying anything!"

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, to calm him down, but the words caught in your throat.

Chenle, sensing your distress, took a small step forward, placing himself slightly between you and Jisung. "Jisung, listen, it’s not what you think—"

"Then what is it?" Jisung demanded, his voice laced with frustration. "Because it sure looks like you two have been hiding something from all of us. From me."

The hurt in his voice cut through you, and guilt twisted in your stomach. Jisung wasn’t just angry; he was hurt. And you knew why. He’d always been open with his feelings, always the one to bring everyone together, and now, he felt left out—betrayed, even.

Donghyuck, usually the one to defuse any tension with a joke, stood awkwardly to the side. Renjun and Jaemin exchanged worried glances, while Jeno just stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

You took a deep breath, finally finding the courage to speak. "Jisung, I'm sorry. We didn’t mean to keep anything from you."

"Then why did you?" Jisung’s voice was softer now, but the hurt was still there, raw and real.

"Because we didn’t even know what was happening," you admitted, your voice shaking slightly. "We didn’t want to make things weird or hurt anyone’s feelings. Especially not yours."

Chenle nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "We weren’t trying to keep secrets, Jisung. It just…happened. And we’re sorry for how it’s affected you."

Jisung looked between the two of you, the anger slowly draining from his face, replaced by something sadder, more vulnerable. "I just don’t get why you didn’t talk to me. You always talk to me."

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Jisung had always been there for you, always ready to listen, to help, and now you realized how much your secrecy had hurt him. "I’m sorry," you whispered, stepping closer to him. "I should have talked to you. I just…I just I didn’t want to mess up our friendship.”

For a long, tense moment, Jisung said nothing. His eyes were fixed on the floor, his thoughts clearly in turmoil. The room was thick with tension, everyone holding their breath, waiting for his response.

When he finally looked up, his expression was calmer, but there was a guardedness in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "You promised me," he said softly, the words tinged with quiet betrayal. "We promised never to keep secrets from each other."

Suddenly, his calm facade cracked, and anger surged through him. He pointed sharply at Chenle, his voice rising with emotion. "YOU PROMISED ME!"

Chenle looked down, guilt written across his face as Jisung continued, his voice trembling with a mix of hurt and frustration. "You promised me that you would never go after her. She was supposed to be off-limits."

The room seemed to shrink, the weight of Jisung's words hanging heavy in the air. Everyone else was too shocked to speak.

Chenle flinched at Jisung’s accusation, his expression one of regret and confusion. "Jisung," he began, voice barely above a whisper, "I didn’t plan any of this. I didn’t think I’d—"

"That’s the problem!" Jisung cut him off, his voice shaking. "You didn’t think! You just… acted. Everything is a joke to you."

You could feel the tears welling up, your heart aching at the sight of Jisung so broken, so unlike his usual self. This was the Jisung who’d been your rock, the one who always made you laugh when you were down, and now, you were the one who’d hurt him.

"Jisung, please," you pleaded, your voice cracking. "I didn’t know how to handle this. I never wanted to hurt you."

The room remained silent, everyone acutely aware that they were intruding on something intensely personal. Jeno shifted uncomfortably, Renjun bit his lip, and Donghyuck looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

You finally broke the tense silence, your voice trembling. 'What can I do...?'

“Stop,” Jisung interrupted, his tone firm and unyielding. You frowned, confused by the sudden command.

“Stop this right now,” he said, frustration clear in his voice.

Before you could reply, Chenle spoke up, concern in his tone. “Jisung, what are you trying to say—”

“It’s either me or him,” Jisung interrupted, his eyes fixed on you with intensity.

Chenle glanced at you, waiting for your answer, but you found yourself unable to speak.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Chenle stepped back from you. “She chooses you.”

As he left, he murmured, “I’m not going to force you to choose.”

When the door closed behind him, an uneasy silence fell over the room. You looked around, noticing the apologetic expressions on the other guys’ faces.

You got all your stuff before looking at Jisung one more time and let out a small “I’m really sorry.” before leaving.

• ──────── •

Days turned into weeks before you were able to hang out with the boys again. When you finally did, it was clear that Chenle wasn’t himself. The atmosphere felt strained and uneasy.

Chenle's usually cheerful demeanor was not there, and he seemed distant, lost in his own thoughts. The conversations among the group felt forced, and laughter that used to come easily now seemed rare.

As the day wore on, you found yourself increasingly concerned. When you finally got a moment alone with Chenle, you decided to address the issue.

“Hey, it’s nice seeing you again.”

Chenle smiled a little bit, “It’s nice seeing you too.” A moment off awkward silence settled between you two.

“Y/n, lets start over…For everyones sake.”

You nodded, a smile on your face. You’ll finally get to see Chenle again. Hopefully the group hangouts would go back to normal.

As you were clouded with hope, Chenle’s emotions were different. He didn’t want to pretend to be fine. But he would do anything for you. As the guys returned Chenle put a small on his face and started being like his old self. The guys all started to brighten up. You couldn’t help but smile. Everything was going back to normal…Finally.

• ──────── •

You were worried to have another movie night. Every movie night seems to be the cause of something bad.

But you didnt want to let it affect you. Chenle has been working very hard on restoring the peace. It had been weeks since the fight between you, Jisung, and Chenle. However things started to improve, you couldn’t shake off the worry that it might all go wrong again. But Chenle had been putting in a lot of effort to smooth things over, and you hoped the peace would last.

When the night finally arrived, the atmosphere was lighter than it had been in weeks. Chenle was trying his best to act like his old self, and it seemed like he was succeeding— at least on the surface. The guys were chatting and laughing, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

Mark, Renjun, and Jaemin were debating which movie to watch, and you joined in with a smile, trying to enjoy the moment. Donghyuck was making jokes, and the room was filled with a sense of normalcy that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Chenle, sitting next to you, seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. He threw a playful glance your way and nudged you with his shoulder, trying to break through the lingering awkwardness. You appreciated the effort and responded with a smile, though a part of you was still on edge.

Jisung sat down on the floor, across from you. “Oh Y/n, I met a guy who I think you would get along with.”

You glanced sideways and noticed Chenle stiffen next to you. His casual demeanor from earlier seemed to waver, and a flicker of discomfort crossed his face. You tried to keep your expression neutral, though you were tense.

“oh um…” You didn’t know how to react. How could Jisung even ask that? Let alone around everyone else.

Jisung not understanding or not caring about your discomfort continued. “He’s really into music and literature, and he’s got this great sense of humor. I think you two would get along really well.”

Chenle shifted slightly, his hand moving to rest on his knee. You could feel the subtle change in his body language, his usual act replaced by a subtle unease.

Jaemin, noticing the tension, lightly shoved Jisung on the shoulder “Come on, stop that.”

Jisung shrugged, “I’ll send you his number.”

This was the final straw for Chenle. His demeanor shifted suddenly, his earlier attempts at playing civil were gone.. He stood up, unable to mask his frustration any longer.

“You’re cruel,” Chenle interjected, his voice tighter than usual, “Don’t act like im not right here.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. The casual banter ceased, replaced by an awkward tension that hung heavily in the air. Chenle’s outburst had caught everyone off guard, and even Jisung looked taken aback.

You quickly turned to Chenle, trying to offer a reassuring smile, but it was clear that the situation was beyond the point of acting like everything was fine. You felt a pang of guilt for not dealing with the situation better.

“I’m sorry, Chenle,” you said softly, reaching out for his hand.

Chenle took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “It’s not your fault, It was never your fault.”

“You know,” Chenle turned to Jisung, “I don’t care about your feelings! I love Y/N and im not going to let you hurt her anymore.”

Jisung’s expression morphed from surprise to defensiveness, his features hardening as he stood up to face Chenle. The room was silent, tension crackling in the air as the two boys locked eyes in a silent battle.

“Hey, calm down,” Mark interjected, attempting to diffuse the escalating fight. But Chenle was not going to back down again, his gaze unwavering as he continued to address Jisung.

“You think you can just come in here and act like everything’s fine after what happened?” Chenle’s voice rose with each word, his frustration and hurt pouring out. “I’m not going to stand by and watch you hurt Y/n again.”

Jisung’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. “Im not hurting Y/n, you are hurting her!” he shot back, his own anger bubbling to the surface.

Renjun stepped forward, speaking calmly but firmly. “Guys, let's all take a step back and calm down,” he suggested, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. “This isn't helping anyone.”

Chenle and Jisung both paused, their eyes locked in a silent battle.

“We need to talk this out calmly,” Renjun continued, his gaze shifting between the two of them. “We're all friends here, and we can work through this together.”

“Shut up Renjun! I’m tired of everyone acting like nothing happened!” Chenle’s frustration boiled over. “Y/n deserves better than this.”

Chenle stormed off again. Reminding you off what happened at the last movie night.

Everyone’s eyes were on you now. “Did he say he loves me…” you whispered to yourself, still stuck on Chenle’s words.

You stood there, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. The room was filled with a tense silence as everyone processed what had just unfolded. Jisung's expression softened, a flicker of realization crossing his features as he glanced at you.

But before anyone could even say anything you got up from your seat and ran out the door in search for Chenle.

But the door to the elevator was already shutting before you could say anything.

You sprinted towards the stairs, heart pounding in your chest. The thought of Chenle, hurt and upset, fueled your speed. As you reached the stairwell, you hesitated for a moment before taking the steps two at a time.

When you finally got to the ground floor, you scanned the area frantically, trying to catch a glimpse of Chenle. His words kept echoing in your mind. You couldn't let him walk away like this, not again.

But he wasnt in the lobby.

You pushed open the glass doors of the building, stepping out into the cool night air. The street was quiet, with only a few scattered passersby making their way along the sidewalk. You glanced left and right, unsure of which way Chenle might have gone.

Your heart raced as you spotted a figure sitting on a bench in the park across the street. You knew it was Chenle. Without a second thought, you hurried across the road towards him.

"Chenle!" you called out, your voice echoing in the stillness of the night. He turned to look at you, surprise flickering in his eyes before he quickly averted his gaze.

You reached his side, breathless from your sprint down the stairs. "Chenle," you whispered between deep breaths reaching out to touch his arm.

Before you could go on a rampage of apologies, Chenle couldn’t help but laughed.

"I can't believe you ran all the way down here just to chase after me," Chenle said, a small smile playing on his lips. His eyes met yours, the tension that had filled the air was gone.

You couldn't help but let out a breathy laugh, relieved to see a glimpse of the Chenle you knew and cared for. "You’re worth it."

Chenle's smile widened as he shifted on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him. You settled down, the cool night air wrapping around you both as you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry for running off like that," Chenle began, his tone softer now. "I just... I couldn't stand seeing you upset, especially because of me."

“Can you stop blaming yourself!”

Chenle looked at you, his eyes softening. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I just want you to be happy, Y/n," Chenle said sincerely, his gaze searching yours. "I don't ever want to be the cause of your pain."

Taking a deep breath, you started, "Chenle, you have never been the cause of my pain," you said, turning so your body was facing him. "You've always been there for me, always caring and understanding. I appreciate you more than words can express."

Chenle's eyes widened slightly, before a soft smile spread on his face. “So what now?”

Chenle's smile was always contagious, and you found yourself mirroring it as you gazed into his eyes.

"Now," you began, your voice steady as you spoke, "you kiss me."

Chenle's lips curved into a smile. “You’re such a romantic.” Chenle joked, causing you to roll your eyes as he leaned in closer. His lips met yours in a gentle kiss. It was soft and sweet. All of your worries melted away. As long has you have eachother, everything is going to be okay.

nct dream taglist: @lostinneocity @naqkja

general taglist: @haechansbbg @haolovre @talkingsaxy @chenlesfeetpic

#dirty little secret #chenle #chenle x reader #nct dream #chenle angst #chenle fluff #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #chenle x y/n #chenle x you #zhong chenle

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eccentricallygothic · 6 months ago

Note

Can we get more ellie and abby content? If u dont mind of course!! I just love the way u write them hehe luv u💞💞

Yes, you can! And thank you so much, I am just gay asf for them 🥴

Alright then, sluts. Let's do this!

Warning(s): D/S dynamics, Strict Mommy!Abby, Sadistic Miss!Ellie, possessive behavior, dacryphilia, use of strap ons, pet names, power imbalance, humiliation, doggy style, overstimulation, use of ball gag, spanking, brat taming. MDNI.

Your nose itched from how it stung each time a thick drop surfaced over one of your eyeballs before collecting along the length of your waterline and then eventually slipping down the side of your face. The 3D floral pastel green dress that you had been excited to wear ever since Abby had brought it back from a scavenging mission was no more than a pile of heartbreaking tatters in front of you as you defeatedly fingered one of the frills that made up for its arm straps.

“It's okay, babygirl” Abby cooed from where she was crouching beside the corner of the bedpost upon which you lay on your chest while weeping over the ruined article. “I promise you will have a new one real soon. Mommy will go further out if she has to, yeah?” The young woman kept trying to console you like she had been doing so for the past hour. But it wasn't doing either of you any good.

The sight before you was too harsh. Too unfair. Too final.

“C'mon, babygirl. I know how you felt about it and I know how rare they are but it was just a dress” Abby's fingers were coiled around your locks while her short nails soothingly scratched at your tense scalp. “But you're gonna cry yourself sick if you don't stop soon” her eyes were sympathetic but at the same time utterly nonchalant towards the ball gag that both stretched your jaw and rendered you mute.

“Leave the brat be” Ellie's stern voice came from behind you as you felt her scarred fingers tighten against your flesh from where they held your hips while her own snapped at an unforgiving pace to pound the vibrating strap-on in and out of your throbbing cunt. “If she thinks some tears are gonna absolve her disobedience and talking back then she's dead wrong” the cruel rap she gave to your blushing ass made you jump before another tear rolled out of your eye because of how your sensitive spot was punched in with the thick tip of Ellie's cock.

She let you feel the vibrations for a couple moments before she pulled back just to pound into you again. You tried to babble out an apology around the gag, your cheek continuously rubbing against the relatively soft bedding from how your knees were being forced to rock back and forth with every loud smack of wet flesh against the material of the strap on. Ellie's fingers sought your cunt for the fifth time and you panicked the moment your fucked out brain registered it.

She wanted another orgasm out of you.

Oh, no.

“Well, yeah,” Abby somberly agreed before she wiped your tears and moved your hair out of your flushed face. “That wasn't very nice of you, baby” the tenderness of her kind mien contrasted that of Ellie in such a way that you felt your insides contract at the realization. The tenderness of the older's featherlight touch was in such stark opposition to the younger's brutal abuse of your poor cunt while her fingers furiously flexed round and round your folds that you felt your loins bubble up yet again. “Mommy and Miss told you not to wear the dress outside the house and you didn't listen, that's no way for a good girl to behave, Princess” your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and your orgasm overcame you. There was heat and vibration everywhere on your body except for the soles of your feet which were ticklish and cold.

Not only had you worn the short dress but you had argued with both women after some guys and girls had taken notice of you. Paying no mind to their checking you out and complimenting you, which Ellie had insisted was flirting, you had further dug your grave by refusing her demand for you to go change. The whole ordeal had made you grow so irritable that not even Abby's patient explaining had been able to persuade you. And then one thing led to another before a guy leaned a bit too close to you in the food joint and lewdly joked about helping them out with handling you since your brattiness was causing a noticeable ruckus.

Next thing you knew, Ellie had dragged you home after punching the guy square in the jaw.

“The brat will learn one way or another” she now spoke from behind you as she spanked you again before hooking an arm around one of your thighs and raising it up in a straight angle.

Forgiveness was not going to come easy.

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tenjikyu · 5 months ago

Note

Okay! With your earlier reply in mind, here is my second request *slides it across the nonexistent table*

I've been having major Mitsuya brain rot so obviously this request will be about him :>

Picture this: Final timeline adult Mitsuya doing all his fashion designing stuff x house spouse (gn version of housewife/househusband).

Genre can be fluff, maybe a bit suggestive if that's okay with you, I don't mind either way, I am just dying for some Mitsuya works cuz I swear I've read most of the gn and male reader x him fics out there and I am starving for new content with him

Hopefully this was coherent and had at least something you could work with (if you need anything more specific, I can send another request)

— 🎭

𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘍��𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘏𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ mitsuya x GN!housespouce!reader , pure fluff n slightly suggestive but it’s nothing more then kissing, I 💗 mitsuya omg, still haven’t rewatched Tokyo rev I’ve been slack 🙁, short n sweet but I was struggling to finish it and I didn’t wanna keep the people waiting much longer so I do apologise.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ I’m so sorry for how long this took!! I desperately wanted to get this out before it hit the 1 month mark but I’ve been super duper busy with personal shit! Hope it’s still good enough lmao.

Takashi ironed the fabric with the upmost care, fondling the silk around the board with a low heat level on. The design itself was a dress resembling a lotus flower. The top was beaded with pale pink rhinestones and the bottom consisted with an array of green silks and gems. It had a sharp yet form fitting feel and anyone could tell the designer put the upmost love into the piece.

A gentle knock came from the other side of his work studio, and there was only one person it could be.

“Here darling, I made you some miso soup to have. Light enough it’ll keep you full but still good for dinner”, your voice charms his ears. Ever since moving in with him, you’ve taken on the role of housespouce. You clean and cook for him, in order to provide the best possible space for Takashi to work in.

It had been twelve years since the two of you got together in middle school. You were the schools vice president, and he was a gang member. Despite the opposite worlds, you hung out frequently and even babysat his sisters when he was unavailable. The day Takashi knew he wanted to some day marry you was the day he came home to his two younger sisters resting in your lap, washed dishes and comfortably lying on the futon.

Now, the two of you reside in an upper class place with lots of room for Takashi’s designs, and none of them are anything short of ethereal. Behind every design he creates, inspiration of you seeps through the thread and needle. Your favourite flower, animal, colour and styles all influence Takashi’s dresses and all of them are of the highest quality.

So, whenever you come into the studio, Takashi gives you a big grin and awaits a hug from his favourite partner.

“How’s your day, darling?” He asks you, and you smile gently at him.

“I’ve missed you, I can’t deny. It seems you’ve been locked in here forever”.

“I apologise my dear”.

“I know another way you can’t make it up to me..” you grin at him, and his cheeks flush with a pink hue.

Kissing his Adam’s apple gently, you guide him up and out of the studio, into your bedroom. Lying his cherished body onto the bed, you feel up his torso as you continue to litter him with small hickies.

He soon follows your lead, pressing a loving kiss to your cultivating lips. You swear there’s nothing closer to heaven than this man’s touch, and you’re convinced you’ve ascended as he grips your cheeks to deepen your kiss.

“I’ve missed you too, darling”, Takashi presses another kiss to your collarbone and manoeuvres his hands around your waist, and you sigh gently at his grip.

“I promise you I’ll give you what you want, after we eat dinner “, you giggle, and his pout is nothing short of cute.

“So you lead me to bed and suddenly leave me high and dry? I’m hurt baby”, he chuckles out, pressing one last kiss to the wedding ring on your finger.

“After dinner, I’ll give you all the desert you desire my love”.

#takashi #takashi mitsuya #mitsuya takashi #takashi x reader #mitsuya x reader #Tokyo revengers #Tokyo rev #Tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #male reader #Tokyo rev x reader #Tokyo rev x male reader

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m1ckeyb3rry · 11 months ago

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // FOURTEEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You use Quynh’s powers to escape to Ba Sing Se once again.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4.6k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: normalize blaming the world’s problems on long feng and captain chhay…public enemies numba one and two !! (blaming the fact that i lowkey hate this chapter on them too ngl)

“Well done, Chhay,” Long Feng said. “As soon as I am named regent, I will appoint you as the captain of the Dai Li. If you agree to keep doing my bidding, I will ensure that your salary is enough to fund all your luxuries.”

“I would’ve followed your commands no matter the compensation,” the young Earthbender said. Chhay had only just joined the Dai Li, and yet he had been singled out by Grand Secretariat Long Feng already, identified as a remarkable talent. Just for the recognition alone, he would’ve done anything. Extra pay was an additional benefit — certainly, he and his wife could use it, so he would not complain.

“It’s for that reason that I’ve selected you, Chhay,” Long Feng said. “It’s for that reason that I trusted only you to kill the king. And it’s the same reason why I’m approaching you with another job.”

“Whatever you ask, sir,” Chhay said. “You only need to say the words, and I will do it.”

“This request is a little more abhorrent,” Long Feng said. “I need you to kill a pregnant woman. Can you handle it?”

Chhay thought about his own wife, whose stomach was just beginning to swell with the beginnings of a child, and then he nodded. As long as it was not her, what did it matter to him?

“I’ll do it,” he said. “It’s as I promised. You’ll find no supporter more loyal, Long Feng. When you are regent, you will serve with me as your right hand.”

Chhay made his way down the hallway, balancing a cup of milk in his hands as he approached the royal chambers. The servants scuttled out of his way when they saw him; no one questioned his presence, even though it was out of the ordinary for him to be visiting the area. He was a Dai Li agent. He could do as he pleased without fear of retribution or questioning.

Her second pregnancy had been harder on the queen than her first, or perhaps it was the recent loss of her husband that had left her in this state. Either way, she was a depressing sight, sallow and worn, her cheeks sunken and eyes like pits, though she managed to smile at Chhay when he entered her room. He did not return it.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the glass and holding it in thin, shaking hands. “I didn’t realize that you Dai Li were the considerate sort.”

“We do what we can,” he said. “Anything for her royal majesty, the Queen Regent of the Earth Kingdom.”

She took a sip of the milk, which he had warmed and stirred sugar into. Her nose wrinkled, for she obviously found the drink far too sweet for her tastes, but it was as Long Feng had predicted — she was far too polite to stop drinking it, far too well-mannered and high-born to ever do something as rude as rejecting his gift.

“The baby will be born soon,” the queen said. “Tomorrow or the day after, perhaps.”

“Hm,” Chhay said, not finding any particular interest in the conversation but needing to stay until she had finished and he could take the cup back with him.

“My husband wanted it to be a girl,” she continued. “He made sure to tell everyone he encountered about the news. But you’re new, aren’t you? So you likely didn’t hear him. Oh, he was so excited that we were going to have another baby. He would lay his cheek against my stomach for hours at a time, talking to her — he was convinced it was going to be a girl, you see, he even had her name picked out and everything — telling her how she’d be the most loved girl in the entire Earth Kingdom. He promised that as long as he was there — as long as he was there, she’d never want for anything. He’d take care of her no matter what. Even though he never met her, he loved her so much, to the point that Kuei got jealous of how his father spent all of his time waiting for an unborn baby to kick so that he could feel like she heard him. That's why they went to the zoo together, he hated seeing Kuei so upset, but then…”

She broke down into tears, covering her mouth with her hands and rocking back and forth on the bed as sobs wracked her body. Chhay watched her, waiting for her to compose herself. It took her a second, but eventually, she did so, taking deep, crackling breaths before finishing off the last of the milk and handing it back to Chhay.

“Thank you again,” she said. “I’m sorry for burdening you with all of that. Please be well. If you have a wife, remember to tell her you love her.”

“I will do that,” he said, leaving the queen to continue sobbing alone in the chambers she had once shared with the king. The door shut behind him with a note of finality, and he trained his gaze on the pewter bottom of the cup so that he did not have to look up.

It was fine. Long Feng said that nothing would happen to the child. It was that kind of poison which he had fed to the queen, a rare one that worked in peculiar ways, and so he had no reason to feel guilty. He hadn’t killed an innocent baby. He hadn’t killed anyone innocent at all. He had only done what the Grand Secretariat demanded him too.

The very next day, the queen fell sick. The best physicians in the kingdom were called to look at her, but none of them could discern what the matter was. She held on admirably, he had to admit, struggling to live for just long enough that she could be certain her child would survive.

She died the minute the young Princess Y/N was set in her arms. Chhay had been there, though he had hidden to watch her final moments, employing every bit of his Dai Li training to avoid detection.

“A girl,” the queen whispered, too weak to do anything but let the baby rest against her breast, her arms arranged around her daughter by one of the doctor’s. “So beautiful. You look just like him…”

The baby began to wail as she was abruptly ripped away from her mother, a wet nurse doing her best to soothe the girl. It was futile, though; she continued to cry and cry, as if she understood that the circumstances of her birth had been unfair, as if she could not bear to live without shrieking her frustrations to the world.

There was only one moment when she was silent, and it was when she locked eyes with Chhay. He thought he had been so well-concealed, but there was no doubt about it: Princess Y/N saw through him. Still wet with birthing fluid though she was, he nonetheless felt that, for just that one instant, he was staring at someone who knew what he had done and was judging him for it.

“Quynh!” you shouted breathlessly as you ran into the Den. She was awake immediately, her great head rising as she regarded your countenance. Her nose twitched, and then her eyes widened and she growled.

“Why is there blood on you, Y/N?” she said. “Were you attacked? Are you hurt? Who was it? Why did no guards step in to protect you?”

“No,” you said. “No, Quynh, I was the attacker. I’m the one who hurt someone else. I killed someone.”

“What?” she said.

“Captain Chhay of the Dai Li,” you said. “He’s the one who killed my father, as well as the assassin who came for me while I was in Ba Sing Se. He and Long Feng have been conspiring against my family for who knows how long! I was caught in Ba Sing Se, so Long Feng assigned Chhay to be my guard, but I knew that if I dared to sleep in front of him, it might be my final act. I pretended I had had a nightmare to lure him closer and catch him off-guard, and then I — I — I killed him.”

The magnitude of the act was starting to sink in, and your vision swam the longer you stared at the rust staining your palms. Wiping it off on your dress was futile; though your skin was clean, you were not. You had killed a man.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Quynh said, quick to pick up on your every shift in mood. “It’s alright, Y/N.”

“What have I done?” you said. “I killed him! I killed a person! What does that make me?”

“You did what you had to,” she said. “What would have become of you if you did not? What would have become of Kuei?”

“He must’ve had people who cared for him,” you said, pacing back and forth, rubbing your hands against your skirt. “There must be people who will wonder why he hasn’t come home. Even Chin the Conqueror was someone’s son; doesn’t that mean Captain Chhay was, too? And I killed him.”

“But weren’t you someone’s daughter?” Quynh said. “Until he stole that from you, that is? As you said, he killed your father. He is directly the reason why you have suffered so greatly, why Ba Sing Se has suffered so greatly.”

“I still ended his life,” you said. “Doesn’t that mean I’m a monster?”

“No,” Quynh said. “You cannot be faulted, princess. Understand this now, and understand it well: if you want to save your kingdom, then this will not be the last time you kill. In order to ensure peace, you must mete out death in equal measure. How many men do you think I have torn apart with my claws? More than you can count. More men than years I have lived. If I allowed myself to be lost in regrets, then I would be paralyzed with doubts or dead from indecision. The truth is that if a person threatens me or the people I love, then I cannot allow them to exist. It must be the same for you.”

Captain Chhay had killed your father. Captain Chhay would’ve killed you. He would’ve killed your brother, the only family you had left, the only person in the entire world who you were certain loved you as much as you loved him.

“I could not allow him to exist,” you repeated, the conviction chipping away at your lingering doubts. “When he was so set on my family’s destruction, I could not allow him to exist.”

“That’s right,” she said.

“But I don’t want to be like that,” you said. “I don’t want to kill the people I’m responsible for protecting. I don’t want to kill more men than I can count.”

“You needn’t,” she said. “Sometimes, though, it cannot be helped. I am not telling you to kill senselessly, without reason or justification. All I am saying is that if you must do it, then do not linger on it.”

Quynh was a spirit, and one born of Father Glowworm’s powers to boot. Her morality was tainted by the immense time she had lived and the malevolent source of her power. What did it matter to her if a man died now or in twenty years, when to her, those twenty years would pass in the blink of an eye?

“I will do what I must,” you said. “For my people. For the Earth Kingdom, and also for its king. Yet I do not think I can ever forget how it makes me feel. I do not think I will ever stop wishing I did not have to do it.”

“If you did forget, then you would cease to be yourself,” she said. “I do not want that for you.”

She was right. If you became the kind of person that killed without thought, that murdered without care for the consequences of those actions, then you would no longer be Princess Y/N. You would be another girl entirely, and the very thought made you shudder.

So you would kill, if that was what the situation demanded. If it meant protecting yourself, your home, your brother, or whatever else you deemed to be of import, then you would kill again, as you had tonight. Of course, it was not a decision which was lightly made, but one which was necessary. It was one that only you could make — you, the princess, the bender, the girl who cared for her subjects more than anyone.

“I have to go,” you said. “At any moment, they’re going to find Captain Chhay’s body and realize I’m gone, and I have to be far away by then.”

“Where will you go?” Quynh said.

“Ba Sing Se,” you said. “I have to go back. There’s things I have to do in the city. A person I have to explain things to — after all, I might not ever see him again, not if things go the way I need them to. And then, after that, there’s another person whose help I require, and I must go to him and ask him for it directly.”

It seemed counterintuitive, but the truth was there was no time safer to go to Ba Sing Se than now. Nobody would dare to be seen on the streets, not in the wake of the Dai Li’s brutal suppression of the earlier riot, and you had until the morning before Captain Chhay’s body was discovered. The night was yours to do with as you pleased, and you had to take as much advantage of it as you could before the sun rose and you were once again hunted by Long Feng and the Dai Li.

“You’re risking your life to explain things?” Quynh said. “You’ve already been caught once and already been nearly killed numerous times. Who is so deserving of an explanation that you will go to them in spite of that?”

“You know already,” you said. “But as I said, it’s not just him. The only way I can help Kuei in any way that matters is if you let me do this. I’m aware of the danger. I’m frightened beyond belief. But I have to do it.”

“It’s foolhardy,” she said.

“Yes,” you said.

“You’re drunk on the rush of victory,” she said. “You might’ve been able to catch Captain Chhay by surprise, but do you think you could face the Dai Li if they swarmed you?”

“I don’t know,” you said truthfully. “Perhaps not.”

“Reckless girl. Rash girl. Why must you be so similar to your father? Why do you never listen to those who advise you?” she said. You startled when you saw that she was weeping as she spoke.

Even though Quynh had never met your father, she had known him, as she knew all of those who were descended from Shan. She had loved him, too, loved every one of your family’s members as her children, and she had told you once that she could feel all of your deaths as stabs in the heart. She had felt his death like a stab in the heart.

“The Earth Kingdom was doing alright when my father was its ruler, wasn’t it?” you said. “Maybe things weren’t perfect, but they were okay. Being compared to him isn’t the worst thing.”

It was the grief that naturally accompanied vengeance. Your father’s killer was finally dead, but that didn’t mean your father was coming back. He would never come back. Your father was gone, and it was for that reason that Quynh was crying as she opened the door to Ba Sing Se.

“Thank you,” you said, and then, because you were overwhelmed with a bout of emotion from seeing her weep, you said, “I love you, Quynh.”

“I love you, too,” she said. “Go, before you are out of time and Long Feng finds you again.”

You shoved aside your misgivings and began to run as fast as you could down the passageway she opened for you. There was not a second to waste, and so you sprinted at top speed, praying you’d reach him in time, praying he didn’t hate you now that he knew who you really were. He couldn’t, right? After all, he had protected you during the riot. He had found out then who you were, and he had still protected you.

The door deposited you by the fountain, but you did not linger there as you once might’ve. Bowing your head and hunching your shoulders, you scurried down the street, staying in the shadows, though there was no real reason to fret. All of the houses had their doors and windows tightly shut, and the few stores which hadn’t been destroyed in the riot had long since closed for the night. If there was anyone left in the city who could recognize you, they were nowhere to be found.

You reached the tea shop in record time. Recalling that they lived in the apartment above the store, you looked around, trying to figure out where the door was. After all, the tea house itself was locked, and you weren’t about to break in, so you had to find an alternate method of entering that wasn’t the staircase you knew was located by the kitchen.

When your search proved fruitless, you took off one of your shoes, winding your arm back and aiming at the window. It was the only way you knew how to get his attention; however, there was an off-chance that the window was actually his uncle’s, which would be unfortunate. You wavered, suddenly doubting yourself and your methods, though of course you were limited in the scope of what you could do.

You had just about made up your mind to go ahead and throw the shoe anyways and hope that it was the right window, but that second of hesitation was all it took for an arm to wrap around your waist and a hand to cover your mouth, yanking you alongside your invisible assailant as they ran into the alleyways of the Lower Ring. Out of reflex, you screamed, but it was muffled by the attacker’s gloved palm, and though you struggled against their grip, you were not successful in breaking free.

Had the Dai Li found you again? Was Long Feng aware that you were missing? What had they thought of Captain Chhay’s death? What would they do to you now? If you had already proven too wild for a guard, then what fate was left for you — prison? Execution? Assassination? Obviously, that wasn’t something they were above. Would you face the same fate as your father after all?

You had just resolved to bend glass again when you realized that you weren’t heading towards the palace. Instead, the mysterious person had veered down a road that led towards a place you held familiar and dear: the fountain. The fountain! Did they want to kill you somewhere you had been happy? Were the Dai Li interested in poetry and theater to that extent? Because it felt more like a story than anything.

But when you emerged into the firelight of the deserted fountain, you realized that the person who had dragged you all of this way wasn’t a Dai Li agent. It was someone else, someone far more agreeable if not unexpected, and so, as you reached the fountain’s edge and he slowed his pace, you began to cry.

He stopped in his tracks, obviously alarmed by the development, but then he took in your appearance, and though he wore a mask, it was clear that he was horrified by what he saw. Bloody handprints on your nightgown, splashes of the same on your shins, possessed with only one slipper…you must’ve seemed like an entirely different person than the girl he had come to know.

“You scared me,” you hiccuped. “I thought you were the Dai Li. I thought you were going to kill me. Why did you do that? I’ve been so frightened all day, and you only made it — I’ve been so — I thought—”

Your stomach threatened to turn itself inside out as you sobbed, your fingers digging into his back, your tears soaking through his shirt as the world crashed down around you. You had almost died. You had almost died. You had almost died.

“I can’t stay for long,” you said, contradicting the way you could not bring yourself to let go. “I can’t stay for long at all. I’m in danger, and by being in danger, I am putting you in danger, too. I shouldn’t even have come in the first place, but I wanted — that tea shop idiot. I wanted to see him again.”

The Blue Spirit was gentle when he held you, unlike the last time he had tried to comfort you. He was like a wall, something solid that refused to move even as everything else was ruined around it. It was only by leaning on that wall that you could manage to keep yourself together, and so, despite Quynh’s warning, despite how the minutes dragged on, you did not pull away.

“After tonight, I might not ever see you again,” you said. “There’s a chance this’ll be the last time. I don’t know what’s going to happen. To me. To Ba Sing Se. Any of it. Tomorrow’s sunrise could be the last one I witness.”

The Blue Spirit held your face in his hands, cradling it like a glass sculpture, and there were so many things you still had left to say to him. A thousand things. A million things. Or, if you thought about it, really only one thing.

“Please,” you said. “Let me see your face. If this is the last time, then let us meet truly. Let me understand who you really are.”

You weren’t sure what you were hoping to see. Maybe you weren’t hoping to see anything at all. You just wanted to know. Once and for all, you wanted to know. The man who had given you jasmine flowers. The man who had run with you on moonlit rooftops. The man who had saved your life. Who was he really?

He ducked his head towards you, and you raised your trembling hands to untie his mask, your fingers fumbling with the carefully bound knot until it was finally unwound, pushing his hood back off of his dark, shaggy hair, revealing his face to you for the first time.

No. Not for the first time. It was a face you knew so well, for you had spent so long admiring it. Eyes like gold. Extraordinary features, fine and strong in equal parts. And, most notably, a large burn scar on the left half of his face, which you placed your hand against.

“Lee,” you whispered. “It’s you. It’s been you this entire time.”

Quynh had been right, though she had not recognized the extent of it when she had said it. You had always known. There had never been a dilemma, because they were one and the same. The person who saved your life. The person who made it worth living. They were the same.

“You — you say that you understand, but do you accept it?” he said, voice breaking. He was quoting The Mask of the Blue Spirit, you realized, and unbidden, a lump formed in your throat. He was afraid, and so he was asking the same question that the titular character asked Jin. “Now that you have seen how hideous my true visage is, what will you do?”

You tossed the mask to the ground and pushed the hand resting on his scar back, so that it could instead make its home tangled in his hair. Reaching up with the awkward inexperience that came from your many years of solitude, you pressed your lips against his own in a soft kiss.

It was brief. Flitting. Like spun sugar on your tongue, you barely tasted him for a moment before he was pulling back, searching your eyes with his own, disbelief etched on his expression. You allowed yourself to smile at him until tentatively, he smiled back. It transformed his face, that smile, turning it kind and filling it with light.

“Why did you wear a mask?” you said. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

“At first, it was an accident. I used the disguise to steal jasmine flowers for my uncle from a nearby abandoned garden, and that’s where I saw you that first time. But after that…it was because I thought that who I was was someone you wouldn’t like knowing,” he said.

“How could you think that?” you said. This time when you embraced him, your cheek lay against his own instead of the cool material of his mask, and the rise and fall of his body felt natural instead of mechanical.

“I just didn’t want to lose the — the way you made me feel,” he confessed against the skin of your shoulder. “No matter what, I couldn’t lose that.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the horizon was beginning to lighten. The sun was beginning its steady ascent, and soon it would be in the sky in earnest. You had to leave now to have any hope of making it to the Upper Ring before the rest of the world awoke, but it wasn’t fair. You needed more time. You needed an entire lifetime with him. How could you lose him so soon after finding him?

“I can’t stay,” you said. “I can’t stay any longer.”

“Don’t go,” he said. “Anyone that comes for you, we can deal with. Stay here and let them try; they will find themselves on the wrong end of my swords.”

“I won’t do that to you,” you said. “I won’t make you fight my battles any longer.”

“Then promise this won’t be the last time I’ll see you,” he said. “Promise that you’ll tell me what happened to you in the palace and why you are in this state. Promise that we will meet again.”

You kissed him once more, and this time, he did not draw away but kissed you back with equal fervor, his mouth hot and searing against yours, burning his desperation, his anger, his sorrow, into you. And this time, it was you who pulled away, pressing your forehead against his, clutching the fabric of his shirt to stabilize yourself.

“I don’t know if I will be able to come to Ba Sing Se again. Not in the daylight, and certainly not for a while,” you said. “But there is a way.”

“What is it?” he said, stroking your cheeks, your hair, your neck and your back, every part of you that he could conceivably reach. “What other way?”

“You can come to the palace,” you said. “You can come see me.”

“They’ll never let me in,” he said.

“They don’t need to,” you said. “There is another entrance. One that only you can find.”

“Quynh’s Door?” he said, his voice ticking up with uncertainty.

“Yes,” you said. “Quynh’s Door. You are loved by someone of Shan’s line, Lee. You can come and go to the palace as you please.”

“I’ll come,” he said, and there was no uncertainty remaining in his voice when he did so. “I swear I will.”

“Good,” you said. “I’ll be waiting. I swear I will be.”

By the time the sun peeked out over the rooftops and people re-emerged to go about their daily lives, you and Lee were both long gone.

Neither of you would ever return to that fountain again.

taglist (comment/send an ask/dm to be added): @rinisfruity14 @c4ttheart @blacky-rose @shizko @marsbars09 @happyplaidpersonfestival @catborglar @camilleverreault @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @lovialy @heart4hees @stefnarda @ioonatv @vvicaddiction

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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thelordofgifs · 12 days ago

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the fairest stars: post viii

New year, new post for the "Beren and Lúthien steal two Silmarils" AU! Masterpost with links to all previous parts here.

Part 39: the crisis.

(Content warning for discussion of attempted suicide.)

When the first of the clamour is passed, and Fingon can at last make his escape to the privacy of his own chambers, Maglor is waiting for him.

His cousin’s eyes are wild. “Finno,” he chokes out, “Finno.”

“I know,” Fingon breathes, tugging Maglor inside and sinking down onto a couch, for his legs will support his weight no longer.

Maglor’s clothes are still splattered with the blood of the wretched dead thrall. He does not seem to have noticed, standing shaking before Fingon. “What had your lords to say?”

“You heard most of it already,” Fingon says dully. “That should I so much think about leaving I might consider myself unkinged, and they shall take it upon themselves to appoint a successor who cares more for his people’s welfare than for—” He manages to break off in time. Maglor has no need to hear those cruel words repeated. “A pack of cowards and traitors, every last one of them.”

Maglor does not seem to be listening, anyway. He has taken to pacing, in tight, controlled circles that make Fingon dizzy to look at him.

Fingon swallows his nausea and speaks the question burning on his tongue. “Do you believe it?”

Maglor meets his eyes and then laughs, despairingly. “Do not ask me of all people that, Finno!” he says. “I who left my brother to his misery, believing him dead! I am bound to believe it either way. But – he would have done it. You know that.”

“I don’t,” says Fingon, and the words are like needles in his chest. “I don’t know it. I don’t think I knew him at all, now.”

“He promised me,” Maglor says dully, “that he would not leave.”

Fingon closes his eyes. “You do not know – he may not have chosen this,” he says. “Perhaps in his journey he was set upon and captured—”

“Then why was his mind closed to us from the first?” Maglor points out. “It all makes sense, you cannot deny it – this was his plan all alone, he left Barad Eithel almost as soon as he had confirmation that Sauron dwelled in Dorthonion. He went to seek him out.”

“It makes no sense!” Fingon cries out, realising with some surprise that he is weeping. “Why could he – how could he choose that, knowing what it would mean, what must become of him? Do not look at me that way, Makalaurë! You are thinking it too: you know that this is my fault, that I drove him to it – oh, was what I did to him truly so cruel, that Sauron seemed the kinder option?”

But Maglor shakes his head. “It is not that,” he says, “it is just – we were not enough, you see. Whatever we did, we could not – I could not be enough to hold him.” A spasming sob runs through his body. “We were never going to hold him, and now—”

“He loved you,” says Fingon, wondering when he began to speak of Maedhros in the past tense. But the words feel hollow.

Maglor says, “I need to – I need to be alone, I need to think, I need”—he takes a ragged, gulping breath—“oh, Manwë and Varda, will it never just end?”

That sends a chill through Fingon. He gets to his feet and takes his cousin by the shoulders, thinking once again of Sauron’s poor thrall. “Makalaurë,” he says, “promise me you will not—” He has only ever seen a look like that in Maedhros’ eyes before.

“Turn a blade upon myself, or cast my body from the battlements, or hold my own head under the surface of the pool until I stop breathing?” Maglor offers. He laughs harshly. “Don’t worry, Finno. I’m the sane brother, remember?”

Then he is gone.

Fingon has no time to weep, or pace, or even set his thoughts in order, before there is another knock on the door.

It is Maeglin, his face grave and solicitous. “I came to offer you my sympathies, uncle,” he says. “The news is a grievous blow.”

Maeglin, alone of all Fingon’s counsellors, spoke no word during the debate that followed the messenger’s announcement.

“A blow to me, you mean,” Fingon says, “for certainly none other than Maglor and myself seem very distressed by it.”

“No, indeed!” Maeglin says with feeling. “Even I who met Maedhros so very briefly can speak to his valour and high-heartedness. He does not deserve any of the torment he must be suffering.”

Fingon shudders. “Do not speak of it, I beg you.”

“Of course,” Maeglin says immediately. “But for what it is worth, uncle, I think the other lords callous indeed. And selfish, moreover, to insist you attend to your duties when your very heart calls you so strongly away.”

Fingon glances swiftly at him. “You do?”

Maeglin shrugs. “Long before ever I met you, my mother raised me on tales of your courage. What use is there in praising a hero-King and then forbidding him any chance at heroism? Why do they insist upon imprisoning you upon the pedestal that they made for you? They know as well as you do that you will go after Maedhros – and succeed, too, if you will permit me to say so. I know not why they insist on denying who they know you to be.”

“Well,” says Fingon, rather taken aback, “I thank you.”

It is the first time he has heard the words spoken as unquestioned fact, and they calm his racing heart a little.

Of course he is going after Maedhros. That is the way the story goes.

“You need not thank me, uncle,” says Maeglin. “I meant only to reassure you that not all your lords think as do the most vocal. In truth I do believe they are loyal to you! But their resentment has been growing since the battle; they do not understand you as well as they thought they did. Still there is no excuse for them to speak to their High King as they did today.”

Fingon nods, a little absently. He does not particularly care for Maeglin’s political assessments right now, especially when they will shortly be of so little importance to him.

“But perhaps,” Maeglin continues, “once you have chosen an – an interim leader – to take care of your duties while you are gone – they can be brought into line.”

Oh, hasty, over-eager princeling! Fingon might have fallen for all his honeyed words, had he proceeded with only a little more delicacy.

He stares now at his nephew, and then says, “Well, you need not worry, for the choice is made already. It would be Maglor my cousin, who has led the Noldor once before already, and knows the work well.”

Maeglin’s face is impassive. “I see,” he says. “A wise choice, I am sure, for all that the lords of the Noldor will balk to be commanded by a son of Fëanor.”

“Thank you, Maeglin,” says Fingon, trying to keep his temper. “You can go.”

Alone at last, he sets to pacing, but these chambers are too claustrophobic to keep that up for long; then he tries to fling himself upon the couch and weep stormily, but his throat is too tight and close to let the sobs through; then he hides his face in his hands and does his best to think, but that is no good either, for whenever he closes his eyes the image of the thrall’s puppet-like smile comes before him again.

Maedhros is suffering so this very moment. Maedhros chose this, because of what Fingon did to him.

And is he waiting even now for Fingon to come for him, and end his torment? Will he shudder away from Fingon’s touch, or let himself be saved?

Surely – surely that ought not to matter. Fingon loves Maedhros, more than anything. He will go after him: he must do.

He will lose his crown, should he go. Maeglin has made that clear, intentionally or no.

Does that matter – does he care? He never wanted this! He has set enough of his father’s legacy afire already; now of all times no one could fault him for turning his back on it entirely, and doing as his heart commands.

But if the last stronghold of the Noldor in the north falls—

Oh, he cannot think any of this through, with his muddled head and aching heart – he wants Maedhros to be here, absurd as it is, and look over all his possible paths with his clear commanding gaze, and find a path through the mist to the right answer.

“Think of it logically, Finno,” he might say, and Fingon can almost see him, reclining on the couch with his lashes half-lowered and a thoughtful, assessing look upon his fair features. “What is the worst that could happen, should you go?”

“My lords fall to quarrelling and infighting,” says Fingon, “and Maeglin tries to take command of them, and fails – or worse yet, he succeeds, and leads them all to some ruinous fate, or else Morgoth hears of our new weakness and marches against Barad Eithel once more, and this time it crumbles for good.”

The dream-Maedhros nods. “And the worst that could happen if you do not go?” he prompts, still in that mild, even tone.

“You die,” Fingon says instantly, his throat closing up as he speaks, “or – or worse, and I never see you again.”

“But I am already dead, Finno,” Maedhros says reasonably, “or at least you must think of me so – you have thought of me so, deny it as you might.”

Fingon manages a bitter laugh. “Certainly Sauron would have me believe the opposite.”

“Because he wants you,” Maedhros says; “he has laid a trap for you with me as the bait, his thrall all but admitted it himself. It’s clever, I must say. All Beleriand knows the lengths to which you will go for my sake.”

“And did you not?” Fingon demands, a crack of anger opening in his racing heart. “For all your cleverness and strategy, did this never occur to you when you went to him – when you chose him?”

But the dream-Maedhros seems unwilling to defend himself. He smiles and looks away.

“If all Beleriand knows what I will do for your sake,” says Fingon, once it becomes obvious that Maedhros is not going to answer him, “that only makes it more pressing that I go to you. Will I stand by as they name me a false hero, and strike my name out of their songs?”

“Better that,” says Maedhros, “than naming you a failure as a King.”

“Who cares?” Fingon snaps. “I am that already. My lords are on the brink of revolt as we speak! Let them cast down all we have worked for in all these years of peace, should they desire. I cannot keep pretending to put them first, not when—”

“But you have to, Finno,” Maedhros says, a little sadly, “or it will all collapse, and everything we bled for will have been for naught.” He tilts his head to one side and fixes Fingon with another too-thoughtful look, his eyes bright and clear. “Besides, in truth you do not want to go.”

Fingon stares at him, incredulous. “Of course I do! There is nothing I want more – how can you even – know you not how I have missed you?”

“You want an adventure,” Maedhros says, “a chance to prove yourself – especially because it was I and not you who drove Sauron away after the battle. That is why you threw yourself into that foolish skirmish with the orcs, too. But you are tired, too, of having to save me over and over again.”

“That isn’t true,” Fingon protests. “How can you say that?”

But the Maedhros-who-is-not-Maedhros merely looks at him, and says nothing.

How desperately, heart-piercingly lovely he is, all porcelain-fair cheeks and star-bright eyes and ruddy, shining hair.

He is not real. Fingon does not know if the image he held of Maedhros was ever real.

He bends anyway to press a kiss to that warm sweet mouth; but his lips pass through nothing but air, and the illusion is broken.

Meanwhile Maglor is also pacing around his own chambers.

He shared these rooms with Maedhros once – here it was that Maedhros first laid him half-conscious on the bed after the long hard ride from the ruins of Himring to Barad Eithel, and sat by his side through all the months of recovery that followed, and here too that Maedhros kissed him goodbye and set out, alone, into the dark.

Is Maglor really so shocked, now? Has a part of him not always known how bent his brother was on his own destruction?

The thrall met Maglor’s eyes, before he slew himself. He drove his hidden blade deep into his body and it was as though the old scar on Maglor’s side burned in response—

The news must be true. How else could Sauron have learned that well-kept secret?

But then that leads him down paths he does not wish to traverse, Maedhros with his eyes screwed shut and blood running down his face, incoherent with pain and begging—

When first Thorondor landed beside Mithrim, and Fingon slid sobbing from his back with Maedhros in his arms, Maglor made himself follow. He forced himself to watch as the healers pulled the bloodstained cloak away from Maedhros’ body to reveal the ruin beneath it, threw himself, in the weeks that followed, to learning by heart every detail of Maedhros’ care, memorised the litany of scars on his brother’s body and recited it to himself each night before he slept; but all that effort could not quite erase the first flash of terror that swept over him, realising what it was Fingon bore.

It is that same terror that threatens to overcome him now, at the thought of Maedhros suffering. Cowardly – but then Maglor has always been a coward.

Sauron knows that too, has known it of old, since Morgoth’s messenger first came to treat with Maglor with his hollow crown upon his head, and Maglor turned shamefacedly away.

No wonder his message was addressed to Fingon, for all that the thrall’s knife was directed at Maglor alone.

Fingon is the prize Sauron desires: how fine a gift will the High King of the Noldor in chains make for his estranged master, how simple and elegant the trap he has laid for him! He knows Fingon will come for Maedhros, that fearless warrior, that hero-prince, the one who loves Maedhros best of all; it is the same story over and over again, and its ending was written long ago, and everyone knows it.

And Maglor – what is his role, then? He supposes he will take over Fingon’s duties while he is away, and hold together his pack of quarrelling lords, and keep a closer eye on Maeglin than Fingon has been doing. When Fingon is returned – if he does return, for Sauron is canny, and will have laid his trap well – Maglor will make a great song in praise of him.

Or else a lament, for Maedhros: but Maglor thinks sometimes that every song he has ever made on these shores is a lament for Maedhros.

Oh, but he is so tired of the Noldolantë! So very tired of recounting his failures to himself again and again, and seeing them reflected back at him from every angle – Sauron’s message and the Silmaril in Doriath and Maedhros, Maedhros, Maedhros who did not care enough to stay—

“Enough,” Maglor says aloud, and his voice sounds suddenly like his own again, ringing in his ears with some of its old clarity.

He comes to his decision.

Fingon answers his door as soon as Maglor knocks at it, his face grey with strain.

For a long moment they only look at each other, and everything is understood.

“You cannot go,” says Maglor.

“I know,” Fingon says dully. “I know. I have been trying and trying to find a way—”

“He will take you captive,” Maglor says, “and send your head to Morgoth to win back his favour, and then—”

“Yes, yes,” Fingon says, “Maeglin will scheme his way to the throne, and Barad Eithel will fall, and so on.”

“More than that, Finno,” Maglor says quietly. “You are the hope of all the Noldor. As long as you live, there is yet a chance that we might triumph.”

“Do you really believe that now?” Fingon demands.

“I think I must,” Maglor breathes.

Fingon looks away from him and says nothing.

Maglor stands before him and waits.

At last Fingon says, his voice heavy, “So you are going in my place?”

“I think it is my turn, Finno,” Maglor says softly. “I cannot fail him again.”

“He will not welcome the sight of you,” Fingon warns, “if he even lives.”

“I know,” says Maglor.

Fingon manages a smile, a false and garish thing. “Well, I suppose kingship is about delegating, is it not? Makalaurë, in truth I cannot think of a better person to go.”

Maglor is not sure he believes that. But he says, “Do I take this to mean I go with the goodwill of my King?”

“More than that,” Fingon breathes, sincere in an instant. He takes both of Maglor’s hands in his. “Say rather with the blessings of a brother.”

Maglor squeezes his fingers, a little convulsively. “I thought I might ask your advice before I go, then,” he says. “After all, you know something about – saving people.”

“So everyone says,” Fingon murmurs. “But do you really think I saved him, Makalaurë?”

Maglor will not, cannot weep.

“He begged to die,” Fingon says, his voice matter-of-fact. “The first time I could think of no other way to free him. I bent my bow and took aim and all the songs say Thorondor arrived just in time – just in time, as if it were a good thing, as if it were a gift he had given me! Better that he had come earlier, I think, before I had made the choice. Better still he had come even five minutes later, and I had taken the shot, and not have to live forever knowing that I could have done it and did not.”

Maglor does not know if he can bear to listen for a moment longer. But he says, “Do you regret it?”

“I don’t know,” Fingon says. “Isn’t that absurd, that even now I don’t know? The Eagle bore me up to the iron shackle and again he begged for death, but by then I could not bear to consider it. I was going to save him, you see.”

“You need not speak so, Finno,” Maglor says. “You did a great thing that day on Thangorodrim. What happened after does not lessen it.”

“Did I?” Fingon asks. “I was selfish, Makalaurë. And I still do not know which was worse: that I was ready to slay him whom I loved best, or that I could not do it after all. I will always know that about myself, cousin. Do you think that poor shrivelled hand is the only thing we left behind on the mountain? No, in truth to save a person means to give up a part of yourself in doing so. I will never get it back.”

Maglor wonders if that is true. But what more has he to lose, with Maedhros gone? What does he have to give, without Maedhros beside him?

“I have to go,” is all he says.

Fingon smiles at him. “I know,” he says. “I have grown very tired of hoping lately – but still I hope that you will bring him back to me.”

Rising to the tips of his toes, he presses a kiss to Maglor’s forehead with every bit of Maedhros’ old gentleness.

Maglor’s eyes are burning, suddenly. Knowing himself dismissed, he embraces his cousin briefly and then departs.

He packs lightly: a sword, yet lighter than the one he bore before the old injuries. A hand-harp, for all the good that music has done him in recent days.

He deliberates a little longer over the Silmaril-circlet in its innocuous black box. He is not Maedhros, after all, to drive Sauron away with the blaze of the jewel. But perhaps it will provide some light in the dark and hidden paths that lie ahead of him; and besides, he is Oathbound to keep it with him.

Hooded and cloaked, in the dead of night, he slips out of Barad Eithel on foot, and begins to retrace the route his brother must have taken weeks ago.

He is not far from the fortress when the pre-dawn quiet is disrupted by hoofbeats: a single rider, slender and lithe, bent low with urgency.

She comes to a swift halt beside him and pushes back her hood: Lúthien, of course, her eyes wide with concern as she scans his face.

She seems at once to understand his purpose, for she only says, "You fool. You were not really planning to go alone, were you?"

For the first time since Sauron's messenger arrived, Maglor smiles.

(to be continued)

#silmarillion #my fic #bullet point fic #the fairest stars #cw suicide #fingon #maglor #maeglin #anyway this part came to me in a vision on a flight last april #and I have been very hyped for it ever since

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mcytblingsbracket · 6 months ago

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Welcome to MCYTblings!

Hello everyone! I have decided I really enjoy running brackets, so I am here to run a mcyt siblings bracket! I'm personally familiar with the empires/traffic life/hermitcraft side of mcyt, but any mcyt fandom is allowed here for this bracket :D

Obviously, this is characters not creators and this is for fun/entertainment, so please keep this lighthearted! People may choose to vote for RPF reasons or whatever else, and that is their own choice. Either way, I do not want to see fighting aside from civil and playful fighting that is more along the lines of a fun competitive spirit. Tonetags help convey that you're just being silly or not serious, so click here for a masterlist of them.

Siblings submitted to this bracket can be from canon, fanon, or personal headcanons- even ones commonly shipped together! I just ask that you please don't do shipping content in the context of them being related. If you do, it can exist I suppose (I don't really have control of that), but please just tag it correctly and don't use it as propaganda for its blog.

Current Blog Activity: Go vote in MCYTblings V3's Quarterfinals! And, if you're so inclined, feel free to create your propaganda and send it in the ask box/tag me in it :D

The MCYTblings V2 Bracket has concluded! Feel free to create celebratory works (or continue working on anything you promised via propaganda) and tag the blog in the, for I will continue to reblog :D

Create your propaganda and send it in the ask box/tag me in it :D

TAGS

#mcytblings polls

#mcytblings info

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INFO

Polls are set to one week and I'll post the next wave of polls soon after it ends.

If you tag this account with propaganda, I will reblog it. If you reblog a post with the text box, I will reblog it. If you put propaganda in the ask box, I will post reblog it. Basically I'll reblog anything, I'm not picky.

Submitted siblings can be literally anyone in the MCYT content sphere you want. They can have age gaps, it can be found family vibes, it can be adopted, it can be biological, they could be from different spheres of mcyt, there can be any amount of characters in the sibling ship , etcetc! For example, you can submit Grian & Pearl as siblings, but you can also submit Grian & Pearl & Jimmy & Lizzie as siblings or whatever else :D

Character & Character (*sibling name here, if they have one*)

Once we get to the end, if all runs well and people enjoy this/want me to run another, there is a high chance that I will start another version of mcytblings with a new set of submissions. New siblings can be added and old siblings who lost can make a comeback (aka anything goes, but previous winners can’t run again). Depends, honestly :p

Profile picture is drawn by @joifee go check them out: https://joifee.tumblr.com/post/740267745344651264/roseblings-my-beloved-late-night-drawing-they

This account is run by @deityoftherain who uses they/fae/star pronouns. As one may expect just on that information, please be as wonky and fun with your headcanons and such when doing propaganda! I’m not going to censor things, though I do ask you to promote your ships and not put down the opposing ships unnecessarily, thanks :D

Current Bracket

Winners

V1: Jimmy & Lizzie aka Seablings

V2: Acho & Scott aka Denholm Siblings

V3: TBD

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misterspectacular · 1 month ago

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MY ASSESSMENT OF EP 1 OF MEGAMIND RULES! - MEGAMIND VS DUDE MONKEY

I'm going to be going through each episode of MEGAMIND RULES! to review them! Basically state my opinions and talk about how much I love Megamind and the things he does and stuff

Starting with episode 1, obviously.

S1 E1: Megamind vs Dude Monkey

I love the Megamind DreamWorks intro. I'm so happy we have one that was made specifically for him, at long last. It's perfect, too -- Megamind is the man (kid) on the moon, fishing for Chum. Brilliant! And the fact Megamind gets pulled down pahahaa

The theme is incredible, everyone knows it. I particularly love when Megamind throws the bags of money, we do a little spin around him, and then he kisses us. If I'd never seen him before, this would be the moment that I succumbed to his handsome-ry.

"You've met your match, Evildoer! For I, Megamind, am the hero of Metrocity! And you will feel my… steely justice with the force of a… an angrly llama!" -- Megamind working on his new act. He's used to spouting villainy, this is hard! "I think you're improving, sir! That's way better than attacking their mothers personally!"

"Villains, beware! For I am the White Knight of --" I assume he was going to say 'Metrocity'. I love the Batman references (The Dark Knight of Gotham). I am a huge Batman fan so to have Batman peppered throughout Megamind content is truly delighful.

Dude Monkey reminds me of Ron from Kim Possible. Except horrible. HAHA the subtitles when Dude Monkey says "shall we stop another crime?" are actually "shall we SCHTOP--" which is exactly how he pronounces it, HAHA! That's hilarious.

Megamind: What IS that thing?! (I love that he doesn't realize Dude Monkey is a person.)

Dude Monkey is so annoyingly obnoxious! Megamind: What in Hades' hamper just happened?! (That's such a good exclamation.)

Roxanne saying "I don't have actual control over the sun" feels like a Mr. Burns reference. Would that make Christina Christo Smithers? You know, I can see it.

Megamind breaking through the window and innocently Ollo-ing only to get a monitor thrown at his face is pure gold. Roxanne really has a thing for throwing things at people, doesn't she? She did it to Music Man in the original film too HAHA! She calls it "muscle memory", I wonder if she means "back when you were Evil and I had to defend myself". But DID she really even defend herself physically from Megamind back then? Hmm… we really need more content from the old Evil days.

Megamind likes tacos! Important! He also likes toquitos, chocolate milk, coffee, kombucha, and donuts, as I recall! Perhaps I missed something. If so, I'll find out soon enough (since I'm going to be going through the entire series again with Notice-Things Goggles on).

Megamind @ Nighty-Knight: "If he pops his Halloween head up again, I have just the treat for his tricks!" These lines are TOO good.

Megamind using the word "bombastic", PFFT! It fits right in with the others words often tied to him. "Mega", for example, and "Swag" (promotional items). "Uber" was also a popular word in the live-action script. I feel like all these words are a part of the same package. Also -- Bombastic apparently doesn't mean what it SOUNDS like it means. I was thinking "bomb" as in "amazing" and "tastic" as in "fantastic" but it's actually more of a negative term. I have a feeling Megamind didn't realize that either.

"Why hire a second-rate wanna-be when you can have a first-rate is-a-be?" Oh my God, Brent and Alan, I know they're the ones coming up with these lines, they're hilarious. This episode is super funny, every one of Megamind's lines are pure gold. You can really tell how much effort they put into writing the characters, especially his.

I love when Megamind nee-nah nee-nah nee-nah's Christina, maahahaha!

"What about that icèd cream you promised?" It's interesting, in the subtitles it has a little dash over the e (è) to convey the pronounciation. "Primarily used in languages like French, Italian, Catalan, and others to represent a slightly open 'e' sound." Fascinating! I just watched an episode of the Simpsons where Mr. Burns refers to it as icèd cream, as well -- I do think the creators were inspired!

Oh, ice-cream! He likes ice-cream, as well!

Food Megamind Eats (will be copy+pasting this to other posts if he eats other stuff and I need to add to it): Tacos, toquitos, chocolate milk, coffee, kombucha, donuts, ice-cream

"Time to get my blue bod ripped" pahahaha, I love that he can go from using the dialect of an elderly man from the 1920s to talking like a teenage boy who's been living in a frat house amongst his peers for the past 2 years.

I love that Megamind thinks Dude Monkey looks up to him and is inspired by him -- seeing the world through rose-colored glasses, I love that about him. (Have I mentioned that I love things Megamind does yet?)

"What's with this troll business? They've been extinct for decades!" I'm really curious if there are actual trolls in their world (wouldn't be far-fetched, there are aliens and shadow-people), or if Megamind just THINKS trolls existed in their world. If they did exist, I'm imagining it's something he learned when he was still on his home planet (maybe mom was telling him a bed-time story about the long-lost troll and then clarified that they are extinct once he expressed fear. I realize I'm totally making this all up but let's go with it).

Keiko really is a necessary addition to future (technically present) Megamind content, because Megamind himself has been so sheltered and secluded that he would have NO idea what's going on, ever. Her being there to assist him is pretty important!

Hehe they used an edited version of one of my favorite promotional images of Megamind! "It's big for a reason!"

"I went viral on Metrocity once! Gave everyone dance fever!" Hahaha I love that, it'd be great to see that. I hope the next theatrical Megamind movie is a prequel and we get to see more of Megamind and Metroman's battles, and get to see Machiavillain training him, and also get to see how Megamind met Roxanne! What a dream that would be! Also, giving everyone dance fever reminds me of Rachett and Clank with the Groovitron (a floating disco ball that, when thrown, plays disco music that mesmerizes anyone near it to dance uncontrollably until it expires)!

Megamind's little dance when he "wins" the point-battle is great (I giffed that)!

"Make me virulent on the onternet!" (Virulent: (of a disease or poison) extremely severe or harmful in its effects.) Hehehee

Chum being entertained by a baby dancing just like a grown-up is pretty funny, given that's what baby Megamind was doing in some old commercials HAHA! Also, there was apparently a dancing baby meme back in 1996 that was/is really popular, I wonder if that's what they're referring to. I bet so!

youtube

"Villains are red, heroes are blue. Stop robbing that bank, or feel my Kung Fu! Or, you know, I'll think of something later." I love that Megamind can seem egotistical at times, but he's actually quite self-conscious and self-questioning. He puts on the 'I'm the best' act to cover up his insecurities. I also think it was his way of giving himself what nobody else would (except Minion), considering he was looked down upon and was alone for so long!

"Treading the boards" is a term that originated in the 1700s. The question we've all been asking -- IS Megamind geriatric? Technically, no, but he definitley does have a tendency to use out-dated terms/phrases. Which makes him all the more lovable! (I love Megamind, by the way)

Megamind Before He's On Camera: Hello, my biggest fans! Megamind here!

Megamind Once He's On Camera: Hello, my biggest fans! Your little fannies will shake as you worship the splendor that is --

So real. You know how it is, when you're just existing, and then suddenly you're existing but on camera? It changes everything you ever knew about how to exist!!!

De-ep Freeze, De-Sintigrate, De-Gravity, De-Moralize, De-Lock, De-hydrate! Those were some of the features on his De-Gun that I was able to see! (I'll update this as we go, too.)

Dude Monkey: Say "Megamind's Cheugy!" (That apparently means "something or someone out of date or trying too hard.")

Megamind being obsessed with views, man I've been there! When you're trying to make a living off the onternet, and rely on views to make said-living, you get kinda obsessive! I love that Megamind puts his all into learning how to be up-to-date with slang terms haha! He really did learn quite a lot!

"Only 100 views?! Why haven't I become a virus yet?!" He's so adorable. I would rewatch his stuff a THOUSAND times if I could! … Oh, wait, I do. (I imagine Megamind just coming into my room and being like "kinda creepy, but flattering…!")

Megamind being scared that he's become "unpopular". That's interesting to think about, even when he was a villain, he was loathed, but he wasn't unpopular. They LOVED loathing him! He was Metrocity's Number One Supervillain!

Keiko then tries to help him, and he shuts her down! He decides to take matters into his own hands! He's too impatient to do as she requests and just wait it out! He's on his way to seek INSTANT gratification!

Oh my Gooodd, Dude Monkey is the wooorrrssstttt! And Christina is a bully! I have to assume she's cruel to Megamind out of jealousy, but jealous or not, that's my man she's bullying! Cut it out, woman! And I don't know why, but it's super funny to me when Megamind refers to her by name. "Heelarious, CHRISTINA!" I think it's so funny because they're acting like a couple of highschoolers who are fighting over the hunky football player.

Oh, this is the best part! Megamind trying out all the different disguises and personas haha! This is him using everything he learned whilst browsing the onternet!

"If this is the hero Metrocity wants me to be, THEN SO! SHALL! I! BE! IT!"

"Crimes a-poppin'! Daaang!" HAHAHA he's such a dork, I love him. "Scope that! Crime much, am I right?" HAHAHA "You'll LOL as I trick-shot these handcuffs right on Nighty-Knight's wrists!"

"Nah! Crime-stopping rocks!" "CRIME-A-DOODLE-DON'T!" (best line ever hahahaha)

Oohh, cowboy Megamind is delightful, he's been my phone background since this episode came out last year on March 1st (I can't believe it's almost been a year already, 2024 FLEW by)! BACKSLASH RAD!

So funny that Chum gets obsessed with memes hahaha, new special interest activated!

"Imagine her telling me I don't know what I'm doing!" (-RECAP- Keiko really is a necessary addition, because Megamind himself has been so sheltered and secluded that he would have NO idea what's going on, ever. Her being there to assist him is pretty important! -END RECAP-)

Roxanne: I need a 30 minute nap after eating three chicken wings! (Paahhaha)

Another incredible line: "On my way to the hospital. My back is LOUSY with stab wounds." This is Megamind's way of calling Roxanne a back-stabber HAHAHA

I do love that Roxanne WANTED to pick Megamind though, and that it was just the city that preferred Dude Monkey. She agrees Dude Monkey is dumb! Yay! "Dumb-ocracy, am I right?" "You can't unspoil my sour mood with mayoral dad jokes, Roxi."

"I posses super intelligence, otherworldly handsomeness, and selfless humility. Yet, I am felled by a bananalamadingdong." 1.) The first sentence has such "I decided to pick something a bit more humble; MEGAMIND! Incredibly handsome, criminal genius and master of all villainy!" vibes, 2.) HE'S EATING CHIPS! HE ALSO LIKES CHIPS! ADDING THAT TO THE LIST OF FOOD MEGAMIND EATS

Food Megamind eats: Tacos, toquitos, chocolate milk, coffee, kombucha, donuts, ice-cream, chips

There's also a Chinese food box, an applejuice box, and a soda cup on the floor! I wonder if that was from him or from Keiko? We later find out Keiko throws her garbage right on the floor of the Lair so I'm not sure! It wouldn't surprise me, though, if Megamind was the one to consume those things. He eats to comfort himself, as later episodes prove.

Megamind truly fears people laughing at him! He really doesn't want to come off as a "bafoon" in any way. He prides himself on his Mega-Mindery, for a while that's all he felt he had going for him -- plus, I mean, his very NAME is based on how intelligent he is. He expresses fear at being laughed at in the original film, too -- being in his jammies in front of Roxanne terrifies him! Running away from the pieces of Metroman's statue after he blew it up "I hope no one's seeing this!" Also there was concept art of Megamind as a kid being laughed at by all the students at school because he dressed up as a superhero and wore a wig. MEAN! I think it's part of why he doesn't like being laughed at and does what he can to ensure he isn't. Trauma!

Little Terry Sasko Says: I love that Megamind messes up just like me. In a weird way, that's inspiring. (So real)

This whole episode ties in really well with the original film, with Megamind wanting to be something he's not. He always has trouble with that; he wants to be perceived in a very specific way -- and that way is whatever gets him the most positive attention. My boy has trauma and he needs hugs (from Roxanne. Also kisses).

It's kinda funny, but what Nighty-Knight's up to is obvious if you pay attention to HIM during his scenes earlier in the episode. I… was not paying attention to him, at all. Had no idea what he was doing. Too busy looking at Megamind. ALSO -- it's hilarious how Megamind is coming off as a genius as he explains his thought process, but it's more like everyone else is just dumb (looking at you, Chum). HAHA!

Roxanne: Please give me good news, like a meteor is heading this way so I don't have to listen to this speech. (HAHAHA ROXANNE, she can have a dark sense of humor, it's great.)

I just heard Dude Monkey in the background saying "fish don't have lungs like humans do. They have gills!" (SHOCK AND AWE!!!)

Nighty-Knighty: You dare talk confusingly to the Duke of Darkness?? (Nighty-Knight is by far my favorite member of the Doom Syndicate, he's hilarity shadowified.)

Dude Monkey saying "we so do not have the budget for this!" when Nighty-Knight starts using his powers -- I bet the writers added that in there because it was an actual concern! I mean, really, can you imagine being given only a certain amount of money, and having to know what you can/can't do based on the amount you have? That sounds like it'd get really complicated. (I think that's why sometimes in movies, in one scene the CGI will be fantastic and in the next scene it'll be sub-par, more of the money went toward one scene than the other.)

"Welcome to MEGAMIND'S RULES FOR DEFENDING YOUR CITY!" That's the name of his channel, apparently! That was also the title, or at least the working title, of this series when it was first announced!

Dude Monkey and his friend remind me of the guys from "Dude, Where's My Car?"

WOAH, I just realized Megamind said "Metro City" instead of "Metrocity" for the first time this ep! Ha! We do know he's capable of saying words correctly, he just tends not to, or forgets to. But when on camera, or when he knows he shouldn't, he changes it (such as right now, where he is on camera for his channel)! That happened in the original movie, too, where he's about to say "shool" to Roxanne as Bernaard, but quickly changes it to "school". It also happens in a later episode, when Megamind and Roxanne swap bodies. I think he categorizes things in his brain, and when one folder is open, the other is closed, so he is on and off with things depending on which folder is open. Kind of like he goes into modes. THIS Mega-mode doesn't say that, but the OTHER Mega-mode does.

OH, more features on the De-Gun revealed! I know some new ones were added, or some were replaced, so I'm going at it as if it's a gun with new features. Meaning I'm not going based off what I know to be true about the De-Gun in the original film.

So now we have: De-ep Freeze, De-sintigrate, De-Gravity, De-Moralize, De-Lock, De-hydrate, De-stroy, De-bilitate.

(ignore that I focused on "de-bilitate" twice)

Megamind after he freezes Nighty-Knight: Pretty chill, home boy! (HAHAHAA)

crowd goes wild

Megamind: "Thank you, thank you! Oh, please no, you're too much! But it is fitting." (HEHEE)

Chum making his own meme, and it's just a picture of Megamind with the words "Inspirational Hero ROFL"

1.) Nighty-Knight looks cool without his armor. He's literally a shadow person.

2.) I love holographic-brain Machiavillain. It's fun that our introduction to the character was him as a holographic brain. It makes you wonder what he really looks like! I'll bet he was peeved at being a holographic brain when he's so obsessed with his hair.

I'd say it's my 11th favorite episode! There are 16, so 11 of 16.

1 - Thrilling Conclusions 2 - Extra Credit 3 - A Cake for Keiko 4 - Villain City 5 - Who Wants to Save a City 6 - Game Over 7 - Mission: Machia Fest 8 - The Art of Destruction 9 - Blue Prison 10 - MegaMayor 11 - Megamind vs Dude Monkey 12 - Roach Hard: With a Vengeance 13- Hero for a Day 14 - The Villanous Origin of Mr. Donut 15 - Of Mice That Are Men 16 - Too Much Chum

#this took me literally over 5 hours #NOTICE MY WORK #megamind #megamind rules #megarox #roxanne ritchi #minion #chum #ol chum #chuminion #keiko morita #megamind vs dude monkey #my megamind rules! reviews #My Megamind Posts #megamind rules! screenshots

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tootoomanycats · 7 months ago

Text

Boiling Over

Suguru Geto x Personal Chef Smut

Pairing:

Pent Up Geto Cult Leader x OC Fem

(can also be read as reader insert)

Word Count: 3,576 words

Summary: Geto realizes that his new cook has started to put disgusting notions into his daughters heads. After tucking the girls to bed, he finds holding the lid on his anger challenging and complex. It is time to have a talk with this vile monkey; only things don’t go according to plan.

Warnings:

Language usage refers to non-sorcery users such as monkeys and animals and uses verbiage degrading non-users' ideology. (It's Geto; I am only trying to stick to how I think he would internally speak about us muggle folk.)

Enemies arguing to unexpected smut.

Mentions of premature ejaculation. (we make sure he knows he’s still wanted)

Minor mention of a potential eating disorder for Geto.

Author Notes:

Hello Everyone! I promise I am still working on rewriting Performances, but I had to stop because my brain would not let me get any sleep until I got this little one-shot out and edited. I never planned on writing any JJK content, but this is my lesson in never saying never. Honestly, I don't know if this will be a stand-alone one-shot or if it will develop into a short story. Either way, I hope you'll like it! As always if you like what you have read please remember that fanfic writers live off of likes, comments and reblogs- we wont admit it but we all have praise kinks.

Have you watered your writer today?

Each long stride only allowed more anger to fill his lungs. That disgusting, foul-breathed cretan. How dare she encourage such thoughts in their minds? To speak of this dementedly wicked world like the Garden of Eden, like it was something worth protecting. When creatures like her ruined its oasis, this was just more evidence that only further proved every reason to go through with the plan to wipe them out of existence.

Silence filled the long, winding corridors in the late hour—only the soft shuffles of his steps to be heard. The time spent wandering, stewing in the whirlpool of thoughts, was unknown. Be it subconsciously or with intention, he came to stand before the kitchen door. Finger paints covered the wood in various colors and shapes and crudely drawn animals. No doubt, the artistic freedom given to the girls by that damn woman. Another distraction put in front of them that should instead be spent studying and growing more substantial for the future, his future. Fingers massaged at his temple, and that damn under-eye twitch was back.

Before turning to continue on the walk of rage, a faint light shined from under the door. The source’s inconsistent flickering made it obvious it was a flame light, not the usual overhead bulbs. A shadow was moving about, its lines from under the door jam shifting around. Was someone trying to find a late-night snack? Curiosity got the better of him as the door cracked open, the well-oiled hinges making no noise to give away his presence. There, at the kitchen island, sat the bane of his existence. A single candle was her only light source as she made notes in a thick-bound journal. Books littered across the counter’s surface that she was scanning between.

After spending two hours tossing and turning in bed, Hope had given up on sleep finding her tonight. What time would have been spent dreaming was now used to research and plan instead. In the short time since coming to the estate, she realized how out of her depth she was. Growing up on a farm had taught her many valuable tidbits that rolled over into the new career of personal cook. Sadly, though, most of the knowledge of common fruits and vegetation was useless now due to being on foreign soil. Not to mention, all the meals commonly made here were a complete novelty to her. All day, the worry of not knowing a simple dish to make for the girls if one got sick filled her head.

She felt lucky that it was still summer, but fall and winter would soon come, so it was best to start studying basic soup stocks and how to preserve them now. Just as exhaustion began to creep its way up her spine, the face of that egotistical man came to mind. She groaned, remembering how he had already refused everything but the boiled, unseasoned chicken breast. A previous warning of how picky her new boss was had first been brushed off, but now she only saw it as something more concerning. When inquired, the girls only looked at each other before explaining how their father seemed to struggle with food. Something about how things always seemed to taste putrid: Hope made a mental note to inquire if there were meals that would not be so vehemently refused going forward.

“I see I am not alone in burning the late-night oil.” Geto had to hold in the smug smirk at watching Hope almost jump out of her skin when making his presence known. Stepping closer to the kitchen island, his eyes scanned its counter’s contents. Multiple subjects filled the open pages, text outlining photos and drawings of local flora and fauna in Japan, while another explained cultural customs entwined with particular meals. “Homework?” he asked, keeping the tone of the question light, almost teasing. Anger still simmered just below the surface, the lid of feigned equanimity keeping it in check.

She quickly closed the notebook, gathered the books, and walked backward while responding. “Just menu planning and figuring out what to plant in the garden first.” Mirroring his strained smile, she still tried to calm the racing of her heart from being caught off guard by his presence. “W-What has you up so late?” Gulping when the evident anger in his eyes seemed to be barely masked by the smile on his lips. With each step he took further into the space, she took one back-feigning needing to put the books back in their place, on the opposite end of the island. Something deep and primal warned not to turn her back to him.

Hands going back into their usual hiding place in the sleeves of his haori, he stopped where she had just been sitting. Magnanimous in allowing the useless cook her space. “I just tucked the girls into bed. They were having difficulty falling asleep, and I couldn’t figure out why for a while until they started asking some peculiar questions.” Geto tilted his head, the candle’s light only illuminating one half of his face while the other became shrouded in the darkness of the night. Even in the dimly lit space, the fear on her face was clear as day. Teeth ground together as realization dawned on him; at first, he had chalked up what she had told his daughters as common monkey ignorance. But now, in the fearful response of shirking away from him, it became apparent that she knew exactly what she had done.

“Oh? What kinds of questions?” Hope’s palms began to sweat, making it hard to hold the books. She had no shame in introducing the importance of protecting living things, nor held abasement in teaching how the circle of life affected everyone, including Nanako and Mimiko. However, this did not make her oblivious to the potential backlash of such actions. Placing the books down on the edge of the counter before straightening her posture; if she were to be fired or threatened, then he would have to do it while seeing her head held high.

What was once a simmering pot now started to boil. It was one thing to play stupid with him, but it was another thing entirely to look proud while doing it. Taking a step forward, he spoke sternly, “Yes. It seems they have these ideas suddenly.” Another step. “Notions I have taught them that will not be allowed in the future I am creating. You wouldn't happen to know where they got those from, would you?” He now stood only a few short strides from her and the corner she had put herself in. Watching as she stood taller with each step, even puffing her chest out. She was brave; he would give her that. Bravely stupid.

Hope’s eyes dropped down from where he now stood to the books before her. With a deep breath, she calmly spoke the answer he was trying to pull from her. “Yes, I had asked them what vegetables would be best to grow in the garden earlier today. As it turns out, they didn't know, and neither did I. So I found a book, and the three of us took turns reading and learning.” Wetting her mouth, she continued before glancing up to see the anger on his face build. “The girls started to have more philosophical questions on which I gave my opinions on.” Fear spread through her bones as he quickly walked into the small space that was left between them. Turning to face the outrage on his face, back facing the island as her hands held onto its edge for the needed stability of what was to come.

“Who are you to fill their minds with such disgusting notions?” The pot's lid danced over the boiling rage held within. The candlelight illuminated both of them clearly, making it possible to watch as shock filled her face at his statement.

At first, her jaw hung open until the feeling of offense had her back to defend herself. “You may think it disgusting, Your Radiance, but like it or not, the reality is that those girls are starting to realize that not everything in this world is horrible. There are things worth enjoying now, not just when you create some theoretical future.” Though her words rang with strength, her body responded in alarm at watching the monster before her shift through so many emotions.

“They are my children! And much too young to be curious about such things.” The lid crashed to the ground as the emotions finally boiled over the pot’s opening. His voice had raised before quieting back down.

“They are growing girls, just three years shy of being teenagers! How can you not see that they are becoming curious about the world around them? Both have questions, yet you refuse to acknowledge it.”

Wrath filled his eyes, his usually fake pacifying expression vanishing to show the true nature of his feelings as he crowded her further with a sneer, twisting his lips. “Oh? What questions would be so important that they would go to a vile monkey for answers instead of me?” His tone was dangerous, threatening, and low.

She could feel the hair on the back of her neck rise; he did not expect such rage to be mirrored back. “I may be a monkey, but at least they feel safe enough to tell me when they like a boy.” Shock started filling his face as she took the chance to be the one now leaning in. “Tell me, how do you plan to explain to them that you will cause the death of their crush?”

Her eyes flicked back and forth between his; he was so close that she could feel the heat of his breath across her nose. Blood thrummed in her veins at how hard her heart pounded. The butcher-block wood creaked under her white knuckle grip, and her back pressed firmly against the counter as he further cornered her in. If this is how she died, then so be it; it will have been worth it to have finally shoved reality into the maniac's face.

Large palms and long arms became caged bars around her, nails scratching groves into the woodgrain. “A crush is a trivial thing.” He leaned further, pressing his chest forward, forcing her spine to bow back uncomfortably. The stiff lip of the wood now bit painfully into her haunches. Delicate fingers gripped the front of his gojogesa, desperate to have any control of how he continued contorting her upper body. His head tilted to whisper into her ear, “They will learn that a monkey’s place is beneath them.”

Geto hated weaklings and abhorred their very existence. It was revulsion, not excitement, that caused the fluttering in his stomach when their cheeks brushed. Loathing how it should have been disgust, not pleasure when her breasts pressed against his chest with each shuddered breath she took. He should have felt repulsed when realizing how perfect the closeness of their height was and how easy it would be to connect further.

It’s because of the years of celibacy that she was so sensitive, Hope told herself. Why else would such a monster cause the sensation of pooling hot honey to form in her belly? How, when Geto shifted his weight to press the muscle of his hips against hers, a whimper caught in her throat that pride refused to let out.

It must have been the lack of touch for so long that had her eyes fluttering shut when he nuzzled his nose into her temple. Monsters did not fathom such intimate affection. Monsters would not wrap such large hands around the back of her neck, gripping the corded muscles of her throat in such a dizzying way. She would not lift onto the counter and widen the distance of her thighs for a beast to slot between them so perfectly. Surely, such a creature would not brace his other hand around the center of her back to press further for contact. The sensation of the growl emanating from its lungs shooting to her core.

It was because his nose had become accustomed to the disinfectant spray that he was so sensitive to her smell. Internally berating himself for nuzzling into the hairline above the cook’s ear, lemon verbena, and citrus mixed pleasantly among the uplifting notes of her scent. Geto couldn’t refrain from pressing firmer into her hairline, gulping in deep breaths of Hope’s scent. The grip on the back of her neck tightened further; confirmation of the creature’s ability to still breathe came in how she tried and failed to hold back a second low moan.

His own response vibrated from how feminine hands gripped the thick fabric on his back and along his rib cage. Cursing at the way, soft, long legs dragged upward along the sides of his hips before wrapping around to press him closer. Silk robe falling open from the movement to show matching panties. It was unbelievable how quickly his cock hardened, straining against the white cloth of his momohiki. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, even with the five layers of Buddhist robes between them. How many years had it been since he had touched himself, let alone such a tempting, vile animal?

Hope bit her bottom lip at the delicious pressure against her core. If she hadn’t been so swept up in the moment’s intensity, she might have been embarrassed about the wet spot that could be felt already in her underwear. Skin growing hot as her body craved more contact and friction. The hands that previously gripped his clothes now reached up to thread into the long tendrils of the brutes hair. Fingernails scraped against his scalp before grasping firmly to pull the face away from hiding against her cheek. The strangled gasp he made caused her walls to flutter; what other noises would this monster of a man make?

The site that greeted her was breathtaking: flushed cheeks, eyes wide with shock and pleasure, and an oh-so-tempting pout to kiss. Gone were the fake smiles, disgusted glares, and angry scowls. Now what stood before her was a desperate mess of a man whose cock was so hard it could be felt through the many layers of clothing. She felt relief from the sight before her; a previous worry that he was toying with her was dissipated. No one would be able to deny his desire from how hard he was breathing, his own hands clinging to her like a lifeline.

Suguru was a man who had faced his fair share of dangerous and terrifying situations in his lifetime. He prided himself on keeping calm and making calculated choices during high-stress moments. So panic began to set in when he found moving from this frozen position impossible. The way her hands had gripped his hair, forcing them to hold eye contact, had his cock throbbing. Panic rose higher from the sensation. She kept glancing at his lips; this wasn’t good. Willing his lungs to work and throat to open, a quiet but hoarse word came out. “No.”

It was Hope’s turn to pout. Her legs locked tighter around him. In reality, he could break free from her so easily; the fact that he wasn’t just proved how much his body languished for contact. Her eyes pleaded as she took in his image, memorizing it and burning it into her mind. “Please.” she quietly asked in return. Hips rocked gently against his to help emphasize her ask. All movement paused at hearing an odd sound. Her brow furrowed in question at the noise he made suddenly, his face contorting to one that could be described as painful. Had she hurt him just now?

Geto eyes shut as the sudden climax continued quivering through him. Its shame was felt running down his stomach, legs, and clothing. He refused to look, to see her expression once she realized what had just occurred.

Hope's concern grew as he stayed still and closed off, contrasting how he clung to her a moment ago. The grip in his hair melted into gentle touches on his cheek, cupping his face to see if she could coax him to look at her. Hormones and endorphins craving the intimacy once more. When his eyes still refused to open, she scanned more of him to find the source of the sudden change. That’s when she spotted it; instantly, it all made sense. The relatively sizable wet spot formed on his clothes was proof of what occurred. Warmth spread to her cheeks as sinful thoughts began to race in her mind, the desire for more growing. Biting her bottom lip, she murmured-

“Again.”

His eyes sprung open wide, disbelief shaping the expression. Their eyes met as he processed her expression of hunger. The gentle touch of her hands on his cheek shifted to clasping the side of his face in place. Hips tilted as she pressed her core to where the wet spot lay on him. His mouth was agape in shock at the feeling of being nuzzled along his jawbone, the sensation trailing a line to his ear where a whisper was pressed against its shell. “I want another one, please.” The ask was sweet and sincere, even begging. Words failed him as a hand gently guided his own from the counter across the warmth of a plush thigh to someplace much hotter. A palpation hit his ribcage when feeling thin satin fabric, saturated and slick, shuttering when Hopes’s fingers encouraged his own to press more firmly against the spot. Her resounding whine brought him back from the out-of-body experience.

The overwhelming rage from before shifted into something much more savage and ravenous. Years of repressed urges bled to the surface; sturdy fingers gripped into the base of her hair like a handle to be pulled back from him, the movement forcing her skull to tilt up. It felt impossible to catch any breath as it heaved erratically between the groaning and growls, responding to how desperate legs clung to him. Any previous control had spilled from the pot that now boiled over. Another hand raised to cup her face with the same tenderness she had shown him just moments ago, watching how her eyes repeated their glances to his lips again. Finally, he leaned in.

“Shhh, I know where she hid the cookies from earlier.” Multiple footsteps could be heard getting closer and closer outside the door. Mimiko and Nanako both telling the other to be quiet, annoying the other with each repeated response given back and forth.

Hope and Geto’s eyes widened as the reality of their situation quickly sunk in. Her mouth opened and closed like the koi fish in the pond outside, and before she could say a word, the maniac was gone. Her brain struggled to process his disappearance, the movement inhuman in its speed. The limbs that once were held up against the other body flopped from no longer having something to grip onto. As the kitchen door slowly opened, she scrambled off the counter and ripped open one of the fridge doors to hide her overtly flushed face. Praying that its cold air would help calm down her heart rate. She was panicking as she quickly fixed the front of her silk robe back in its proper place.

Hidden outside the kitchen’s veranda, Geto stood in horror as the events that had just transpired replayed in his mind. Dismay that the truth about who started the whole situation was him. What was worse was that as hard as he tried to feel the disgust he so proudly touted for her kind, he could only feel how hard he was--again. Realization dawned on him of how dangerous the cook was as he shifted Hopes’s title from monkey to succubus.

#geto suguru #jjk suguru #jjk smut #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #jujutsu kaisen suguru #geto #suguru geto #jjk #suguru geto x oc

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biohazard-anon · 11 days ago

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Summary: Sephariel asks for a favor from Kel'ath. It goes unexpectedly.

Content warning:talk of assisted death, blood drinking, mentions of a fight.

(check pinned post for masterlist)

Tagged: @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog

@egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Authors note: finally I've got it done! Can't wait to start on the next chapter already!

Chapter 11

Sephariel awakens with a silent gasp, his body trembling and drenched in sweat.

A split second later the beds and dressers slam back onto the floor, pulling out the cry that was stuck in his throat.

The angel swallows around the feeling of cotton in his mouth as he sits up and scoots himself onto the edge of his bed.

As hard as he tries he cannot stop his thoughts from drifting onto the memories of a death that is not his own.

The marine wraps his arms around his middle as he is suddenly assaulted by the pangs of an insatiable hunger.

He stands up on unsteady legs and begins to pace from one corner of the room to the other, back and forth, over and over again.

Without thinking Sephariel opens the door and begins to trek down the hall, unknowing of the destination.

His thoughts cycle from the unending urge to the need to talk to someone as he drifts aimlessly from one hallway into the next.

Lumbering footsteps dragging along the floor as his twitchy wings brush against the walls.

He stops in front of a door that looms in front of him. A hand goes up to knock but it stops an inch short. He takes a second before rapping his knuckles on the wood.

"Come in!"

Kel'ath calls out from behind the door.

Sephariel twists the knob and enters. He sits down in one of the chairs and begins wringing his hands in nervous anticipation.

"Ah, Sephariel! I wasn't expecting to see you, is something the matter?"

Kel'ath asks, concern evident in his low, resonating voice.

"I know we do not know each other well, but I need you to do something important for me." The firstborn asks.

"Of course, what do you need me to do?"

"I need you to promise that when the time comes, that you will kill me."

"What?! No!"

"Kel'ath please you don't understand! The flaw, I can feel it digging its claws into my soul! I do not know how long I have until I snap and hurt someone!"

He desperately pleads as he adverts his gaze.

Kel'ath stands up and moves to the chair across from the other marine before he slowly reaches for the other marine's hands and gently grasps them.

Sephariel's eyes snap back up.

"Seph, I need you to take a deep breath, can you do that for me?"

The red astartes shakily nods before attempting to take a deeper breath. Closing his eyes as he does so.

Kel'ath pulls his hands away and starts to strip his right arm of its armor.

"What, what are you doing?" Sephariel asks.

"Would feeding on me help, yes or no?" The salamander answers with another question.

"Yes but-"

"No buts, here." Kel'ath offers his arm to the blood angel.

Sephariel's mouth opens as his fangs extend, before he reaches for the offered arm. He manoeuvres it this way and that until he finds the right spot to bite down on.

Kel'ath winces as the marine before him sinks his teeth into the delicate tissue of his wrist and begins to drink.

The green astartes uses his other arm to pull his laptop over before opening it and pulling up a window with a new message.

'I am almost finished with my training seminar, how are the new marines settling in?'

He starts typing, glancing over at the other marine every once in a while as he does so. Kel'ath then presses send, letting Sephariel adjust his arm to continue to drink.

'Well, the older one is absolutely convinced that he's going to hurt someone, any advice on calming him down? He's feeding on me if that helps.'

A reply pops up.

'Have either of them have any form of art to do? If not, send them out to get supplies for that. Anyways my lunch break has ended, talk to you soon.'

He closes the laptop and scoots it back onto the desk.

As he does, Sephariel unsheathes his teeth from the captain's wrist and works up a coagulant in his saliva before licking the wound and letting go of the arm.

Kel'ath then begins to work his armor back on, he turns to the blood angel once he's done.

"Alright Seph, now there is something else that I need you to do. There is an art store on the West side of town, I want you and Tovoth to go and pick some stuff up. Don't worry about prices, I'll pay for it."

Kel'ath explains.

"I, don't know what to say, thank you Kel'ath."

Sephariel replies.

Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of frantic knocking.

"Come in!" Kel'ath says.

Iskandar bursts into the room before speaking.

"Come quick! Zykord is trying to fight Tovoth!"

"Where!?" Sephariel demands.

"In the mess hall, I tried to get in between them but the other word bearers wouldn't let me through. Come on!"

The two marines stand up and hurriedly make their way to the mess hall with Iskandar not far behind.

#space marine husbandry #oc: sephariel #oc: tovoth #oc: kel'ath #oc: iskandar #oc: zykord #awakening series

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bratbby333 · 8 months ago

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. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ blog update ! ] ࿐ྂ

+ some housekeeping and info on new writing

hello my loves !! i wanted to give y'all some insight on what's been going on in my mind palace lately. there's a lot...so...cmon, take a walk w me...and maybe bring some snacks.

ੈ♡˳ first and foremost ! my work has received a lot more attention recently and i am so excited. with actual tears in my eyes, im happy to report that i surpassed 1,000 followers the other day. i am at a loss for words...just...stuck in a perma-state of disbelief.

im sending out the biggest thank you to everyone who has supported me, who's interacted with my work, to the lovely friends ive made though this account and to the heartbreakingly beautiful anime that brought me here in the first place. i am genuinely in awe...overwhelmed, even...i didn't expect any of this to happen when i started this blog and i am forever indebted to all of you for getting me here. im actively fighting off the inevitable surge of imposter syndrome as i type this out...i just love y'all so fucking much. this community means the world to me and i wanna scream at the top of my lungs in order to demonstrate my deepest appreciation for each and every one of y'all.

ੈ♡˳ secondly ! a message for my little angel babies, my day one followers; thank you for taking a chance on me. for watching me grow. for sticking around as i worked to get better at writing. im sure a lot of you started following me for my gamer!bf sukuna series...trust me, i love him and i know y'all do too. but i feel like my writing is heading in a different direction...and with a heavy heart, i'm absolutely gutted when i say that i am taking a pause on that series. i am forever grateful for the support and may return to him soon, though i cannot promise that. i owe so much of what my account is now to that series and i will never forget that.

for everyone who joined me as i delved into dark/dead dove content, thank you from the bottom of my heart for allowing me a safe space to explore different forms of story-telling. my choso fic was the first stepping stone and then i skipped every other stone on the path and jumped head first into the deep end with my dead dove gojo fic...i deeply appreciate all the positive feedback i received on both of those. after posting them, i realized that i am very into writing dark content. i know that taboo themes/dark content/dead dove subject matter isn't for everyone and i understand people's apprehension in regards to it. but with that being said, i will be moving forward with publishing darker content.

ੈ♡˳ so here's the writing update !

i did a poll asking y'all what kind of content you enjoy. a good chunk of people said long form fics (which is great, cause i do too !! mommy needs plot). so, i am migrating away from one shot writing. both because i've been thinking about it for awhile and because y'all are into longer stories, as well. but fear not, i will still write shorter stuff along with headcannons, drabbles, etc...it just won't be the main focus of my blog anymore.

ੈ♡˳ now, time for the big reveal ! perhaps it's a bit anticlimactic, but bear with me...

im so excited to announce that i have two new series coming ! it will be a dark, modern!au featuring choso (with a few other special guests) and a dead dove sukuna series.

i'm almost finished with the outlines, and have fully completed the theme layout + mood boards for both works. i hope to get the first few chapters wrapped up in the next couple weeks. if you want to be tagged in either of these (or both), just leave a comment or send me a message !

(also !! i may or may not be cooking up a dark medieval au series in collaboration with another writer on here...so be on the lookout for that hehe)

while i take breaks from writing my two series, i'll be working through my requests ! so if you've sent one in, i promise i will get to it, unless i literally cannot think of a good way to write it (im only human, im so sorry). also, im sure we already knew this, but im a slowww writer. i wish i could churn content out quick as fuck but i am too hypercritical of myself…it's both a blessing and a curse, honestly.

if you made it all the way to the end of this nightmare of a brain dump, i love you. if you've been with me for a while, i love you. if you're just now joining me, i love you. everyone who’s supported me in any way, shape, or form, i love you.

i present you with the sloppiest kiss with tongue (only if you want it, of course. i can also give you the tightest hug, the gentlest head pat, or my social security number...access to all my bank accounts? a mansion in the hills? my passport? hand in marriage? my first born child? literally whatever you want, babe).

okay !! i think that's all for the updates. feeling: very ambitious and motivated but also overwhelmed and mildly stressed but overall super excited for what's to come. im looking forward to this new adventure and i hope y'all come along with me ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

thank you again…for literally everything. yall hold a special place in my heart and always will. so, here we go !

see you on the other side, my loves.

— jade 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

#—bby’s babbles🪴#jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen writing #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #bratbby333

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sweet-littlerose · 8 months ago

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Every Little Everything|| A Matt Sturniolo FanFic Collab (edit: no longer a collab)

Hey pretties! First off I wanna say HAPPY PRIDE MONTH. I have not been on here in a minute but as time passes I miss my little writing moments so heres Part One of a New Fic I am writing. This is my writing and my work with the help of peachy to make the title name and the chapter names as well as the proof reading. I hope you all enjoy and stay tuned, part 2 is coming soon <3

——————————————————————————————————

Part One- The Ghost Of You

After High School Graduation. Boston, MA

You lean over the wall that separates the ice rink from the seating. You are watching Matt, Nick, and Chris skate around. The hockey season had ended a long while ago but they always came back to the rink just for fun. Graduating highschool was scary, stepping out into the real world always seemed easier when you thought for sure you’d have the triplets with you. Things changed quickly when Matt and the boys had broken the news to you. They’d be moving to LA to pursue their content creation and you'd be alone, going off to college. You had been trying to enjoy these last couple of months before graduation, but every happy moment was overpowered by the thought of the boys you spent so much of your life with leaving. You and Matt were much closer than you were with Nick and Chris, not purposely, but both of you struggled with a lot of the same issues and found comfort in each other through the years.

“Earth to Y/N '' Matt said, waving his hand in front of your face as he leaned on the wall.

“Huh? Oh hey,” you say, smiling at the boy.

“Still thinking about the move?” he asked her.

“Yea… I'm just gonna miss you guys,” you say.

“I know, but we will come back here to visit for Christmas,” Matt said, placing his hand on yours.

“We should meet in town when you visit. You know, the town square where they put the big tree up every year? We meet there on Christmas Eve at midnight and exchange gifts. Promise me?” you say, looking into his eyes. You are sure he can tell just how important this is to you by the way his answer is quick and not hesitated.

“I promise,” he said, squeezing your hand with a smile.

“And we stay in contact, text, call, facetime, whatever. Promise?” you ask, making Matt chuckle

“I promise, you don’t have anything to worry about,” he said, moving his hand to your cheek and rubbing his thumb across the soft skin.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time seemed to fly. With every passing day, you felt the loneliness creep in as the boys began to pack to leave. It had not fully hit you until you were in their house, looking at Matt's empty room. You’d come to hang out, like you always did as a kid.

Standing in the doorway of the room it almost took your breath away.

“It looks different this way,” you said as the boy turned from his closet and set a box of clothes on the bed. “Empty,” his words slipped out in the saddest tone, pursing his lips together as his hands steady himself on either side of the box.

“I'm proud of you, Matty,” you say, the sadness lingering in your words. He didn't respond; he just made quick strides in your direction. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug, resting his chin on top of your head.

“You know I would take you with us if I could, Y/N,” the boy said sadly.

You knew this would be hard, and as much as you wished you could pack up and move with them, you had nothing for you in LA. You got into college here in Boston, something you had worked so hard for. The boys had cheered you on in your audition for the prestigious music school, and you knew it was your dream; they knew it was your dream. So here you were at an impasse, saying goodbye to everything you knew and loved…the people you loved.

You looked up at Matt, his eyes meeting yours. You and Matt often had moments, just a glimpse of something more than friends, but it never came out. No one confessed or made any big moves because your friendship was way too important to risk. “At the end of the day, you will always be one of my best friends. No distance changes that” Matt said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear with a soft smile. Here, looking in his eyes like this was the first time it hit you this hard. Realizing just how deeply rooted your feelings were for him. Even though everything in your body urged you to make the move, you couldn't. If you ruined it, or went too far it could destroy everything and you may never hear from him again and that in and of itself was the scariest thought.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bitter sweet day came, you were helping them drag their things to the van as they prepared for the long road trip. “Welp that's the last of it” you said, shutting the trunk with a sigh. You turned to the boys and their parents, watching as they hugged each other to say goodbye. You hug the boys one by one starting with Chris. “Good luck in school Kid” Chris said, rubbing your back before pulling away.

“Thanks Chris” you said, smiling. On to nick, he wrapped his arms around you tightly “Gonna miss you so much, promise to still be my wing woman?” he asked “Always” you say, fighting the tears now. Nick pulled away, Matt making his way over. “No tears” he said, his arms picking you up to spin you around before setting you down “No tears” you say back, biting the inside of your cheek to stop from sobbing. You watched him leave, pulling out of the driveway and driving down the street and you start to wonder what you and Matt could’ve been had you not been so scared.

Screaming, Crying, Throwing up, and ultimately so happy!

Hope yall love it!

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo

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fullsunstrawberry · 5 months ago

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PREVIEW dirty little secret

{OUT NOW}

Genre: friends to lovers, hidden romance, forbidden (not really) lovers??

Content Warnings: Dreamies getting drunk, mention of blackout, one night stand, turned more, ANGST with fluffy end, Jisung is a little shit in this, SMUT (but very vanilla smut)

Word Count: 7.2k (preview is 1.4k)

Release Date: Sep. 16

TAGLIST OPEN!

"Come on! You never miss a hangout," Jisung whined into the phone.

“They always end up with me getting drunk and sleeping on the dorm couch, no thanks,” you replied.

“This time it’s at Chenle’s house. You can even call dibs on his spare bedroom!” Jisung reasoned.

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” You already knew the answer.

“Nope, see you later!”

He’s been extra flirty with you lately. It’s not because he likes you; he's been playful with everyone! Well, that's what you try to tell yourself.

One time you told Jisung that Renjun's new haircut looked really good on him and Jisung freaked out, claiming you were falling for Renjun and it was against the “Bro code.” This made you confused because that's not what bro code is, but he looked very upset, so you didn't question it.

Now there is no way you will ever admit to liking Chenle. If he got upset with Renjun, you know he would be furious if you even flirted back with Chenle. That’s his best friend! He’s not the type to be happy about his boy and girl best friend dating. You're sure he’s told that to Chenle so you never took his flirting too seriously. That didn't stop your heart from beating faster after every time he looked at you.

A group of guys yelled as soon as Chenle opened the door.

“They’re already this rowdy,” you sighed, already coming up with excuses as to why you had to leave.

Chenle laughed at your disapproval written all over your face. “Stick by me, I swear I'm not as bad as them.”

“You guys already started without me!” you grabbed an already-opened beer on the table and took a swig out of it.

“It's not our fault you're late,” Jaemin teased.

“Sorry, I have a life.”

“Reading fanfiction?” Renjun giggled.

“Can’t believe I'm already getting attacked, I just arrived!”

“I told you to stick by me,” Chenle laughed.

“You're right. It’s me and you now… Let’s get drunk!” You smiled, grabbing another beer to give to Chenle.

You're glad you didn't have to wake up on a couch hungover. Waking up in a bed surrounded by the comfiest blanket wrapped around you felt like heaven. You did not want to wake up.

Moving your head to see who ended up passed out with you, you froze.

“WHY DON’T I HAVE ANY CLOTHES ON?!?”

Should you look? Should you not look? You slowly turn your head to check who you fell asleep with. Maybe you didn't hook up with one of your friends… Maybe you just overheated and took off your clothes.

Turning over, you yelp in shock. Chenle is still sleeping next to you. Even worse, he’s shirtless, and you don’t really want to check under the sheets to confirm your suspicions.

You carefully wriggled out of the bed, making sure not to disturb Chenle. As you grabbed your clothes scattered across the room, memories of last night started to flood back. The drunken laughter, the friendly banter, and when all of the guys left. All you could remember was cleaning up the kitchen because you felt bad leaving it such a mess. Then Chenle's hands grabbed yours in protest and said he would clean it up in the morning. But instead of agreeing you tried to pull his hands away which caused him to press into you.

Once downstairs you can finally think about what the hell just happened. But no, life hates you. Instead, you were met with Mark washing dishes.

"Finally you woke up" Mark laughed before turning around and being met with a face he did not expect to see.

"Why did you come down from Chenle’s room?"

You blinked at Mark's question, trying to come up with a plausible response. "Oh, I just woke up and wanted some water," you stammered, attempting to act casual.

Mark raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "Water? Really? Because it looked like you were in quite a rush to get out of there."

You felt the heat rising to your cheeks as you fumbled for words. "I just... didn't want to disturb Chenle. He's still sleeping, and I didn't want to wake him up."

Mark's eyes narrowed, studying your face. "Uh-huh. Sure." He seemed unconvinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he went back to washing the dishes.

You took the opportunity to escape the awkward situation and headed towards the kitchen table “What do I do Mark, I fucked up did I?”

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with Mark. "I don't remember much, but I woke up in his bed, and I think we hooked up. I have no idea what went down, and I'm panicking."

Mark sighed again, his expression softening. "Look, Y/N, it happens. People get drunk, things get blurry. Maybe nothing happened, or maybe something did. The important thing is to communicate with Chenle. Figure out what both of you remember and how you both feel about it."

"But what if he thinks it’s gross or something?" you worriedly questioned.

Mark shook his head. "Chenle is a good guy, and he knows how these things can happen when everyone's been drinking. Just talk to him. Honesty is the key here."

Taking a deep breath, you nodded.

• ──────── •

Before you could process the situation, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the stairs. Chenle, struggling to pull down his hoodie and hastily reaching for his keys, descended in a rush of movement.

"Easy there, you're going to hurt yourself" Mark teased, chuckling as Chenle glanced up with an expression of sheer panic.

Mark raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with you. "Well, you might want to talk to her about that instead of assuming the worst," he suggested.

Chenle's eyes widened as he finally noticed your presence. "Y/N, I... I'm so sorry if I did something wrong. I don't really remember what happened, but I know we ended up doing something, and now I'm just freaking out," he rambled, looking genuinely distressed.

Chenle nodded, relief washing over his face. "Yeah, you're right. We should talk." He looked at Mark, who gave him an encouraging nod.

“This is something you two have to figure out.” Mark grabbed his jacket and left.

TBC

#dirty little secret #chenle #chenle friends to lovers #chenle angst #chenle fluff #chenle x reader #chenle smut #zhong chenle #nct dream #nct dream angst

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