#but that narrows my clothing options down to next to nothing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cinnamoneve · 11 months

Text

𝐟𝐞𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞.

feuillemorte \fə.jə.mɔɹt \ (adj.) - of the color of dead or dying leaves: dull yellowish or orangish brown.

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x gn!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: satoru falls into habits of sleepless nights when he worries ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader gets picked up by gojo (he is the strongest btw and he can lift anyone w ease !!) ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 2k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: there is angst if you squint. pls enjoy my loves ♡

the apartment always felt colder at night.

selfishly, you lazily searched for your boyfriend’s warmth to steal, afraid that opening your eyes would ruin the illusion of dreaming while you’re awake. patting around, the bed was unusually empty and lacked satoru’s body heat to keep you toasty.

you break your comfort to crack your eyes open and see that you are, in fact, all alone in bed.

“satoru?” you manage to call out, half in a whisper, to no response.

you peek at the clock on the bedside table. it’s 3:52am.

slowly, you sit up and prepare to get out of bed. all you’re wearing is one of satoru’s shirts, which probably explains why you’re freezing your ass off. you grab the blanket off the bed to shroud yourself before bracing for the cold; changing out of satoru’s shirt won’t be an option.

it was one of the first items of clothing he’d given you in your relationship. the two of you live together now–you have unlimited access to satoru’s extensive wardrobe, along with his blessing to take anything, anytime.

the shirt was well-loved and very lived in; it had stains and holes in it, a burn mark from a night you tried to impress satoru with an expensive cut of flame-grilled steak. it was just a silly shirt, after all–some graphic tee he’s acquired one way or another that fit him like it was made for him.

he lied, actually, giving it to you. lying through his teeth when he remarked how it was too small on him, but he’d hate to get rid of it. he was really thinking about how you’d look wearing it, how the hem would float just around the middle of your thigh, the shirt covering you in an extension of him.

satoru would dream of you doing nearly anything in that shirt. laughing at a joke he told, brushing your teeth together, eating the breakfast he made for you, sleeping on the couch you two picked out together. you had other clothes he loved, but this was his favorite.

you didn’t know this, of course, you just loved him. a lot, actually. and that was reason enough to wear it.

you scrunch the blanket up so it doesn’t drag on the floor as you venture into the dark apartment.

“saaaaatoru~” you whisper around, checking if he went for a quick pee, or maybe if he was changing into different sweats.

no sign of him in the bathroom, or poking around the laundry room.

maybe he was feeling restless and went for a run?

mm, he would’ve told you first. his shoes are still by the door, along with his keys and everything. his phone was by the bedside table when you left the bedroom.

perhaps a midnight snack was in order. satoru was often hiding away in the kitchen, stealing himself a quick bite of something sugary to quell his sweet tooth before bed. and you’d always act surprised when you found him, and he’d always act like he was up to no good.

nothing there either, but there was a suspiciously ice cream-covered spoon lying next to the sink: a telltale sign he’d be coming back for it.

seemed to be getting warmer.

the living room was quiet and dark, and he wasn’t curled up on the couch watching something he was barely even paying attention to. it was narrowed down to one place.

you put some shoes on before opening the door to the balcony. the crisp autumn hair hit your face before you even noticed satoru sitting on the ground. you had furniture out there. there was no reason for him to be doing that.

your voice was still groggy from your slumber.

“good morning, satoru,” you mumbled. he knew you were there, and he was already looking back up at you.

“hey, you,” he replies. his voice is abnormally mellow for the words he said. his eyes were a little puffy, and touches of pink dotted the tips of his nose and ears. maybe it was the weather doing this all to him.

you studied his face a little more, and he looked tired. the kind of tiredness that sleep won’t fix.

“i couldn’t sleep,” he dryly says.

“i know. it’s okay, love”

and you said that honestly, but you weren’t sure if you meant it.

satoru had bits of insomnia when work got particularly hard. he worried about not being able to protect you or his students, so he kept infinity working overtime. the means justified the end in his opinion, and his thick head wouldn’t change what’s not in need of a fix. you both were still safe, right? what’s a few days’ worth of sleep if it guaranteed he could protect you both?

you couldn’t fight him on it anymore, you knew this. the best you could do was support him and love him. but it was hard to watch.

the silence was occasionally broken up by the wind moving dried leaves on the street below. it seemed like the whole world was asleep at this hour. too early for the morning risers, too late for the night owls; just you, satoru, and the moon on the balcony together. satoru stared off into the distance, towards the city that seemed to be the only thing alive right now.

he looked up and snaked his hand up your thigh, settling gently on the hem of your shirt. his shirt, really, but it was soft enough that you barely felt the tug.

you went to sit on the ground with him, but he pulled you by the bottom of your t-shirt into his lap.

“don’t, it’s dirty,” he flatly mumbled into the crook of your neck.

you hummed in response as you settled onto him. he hugged your waist and leaned his head against your back, nestling just between your shoulder blades.

“you’re gonna get sick if you sit out here any longer, y’know,”

“the fresh air feels nice,” his words tickle your back, which makes you giggle.

you twist around to straddle him and see his face.

he gives you a tired smile when his eyes meet yours. you tilt your head to give him a sympathetic look.

taking his face in your hands, you thumb his cheek and soothe him as best as you can.

“your face is freezing, stupid,”

he suppresses a smile, but his dimples are evidence of his feelings. he pulls the blanket to cover the both of you.

“come here then, lemme steal some of your body heat if you really care so much about me,”

you crawl into him as he holds you, keeping you both wrapped under the blanket with only your heads peeking out. he’s keeping you so snug to him that it’s hard to look up at him, or even move.

“thank you, satoru”

“you don’t have to do that”

“i absolutely do, don’t be crazy. you’re keeping us safe, right?”

“something like that, i think. or trying to,”

his confession makes you both go silent. the wind whistles again as the fallen leaves dance once more. he pulls you a bit closer as a chill settles in.

“i don’t know,” he sighs, “i don’t know what’s the right thing to do, i’ve realized”

“you don’t have to, baby, it’s okay,”

“i wish i could scream at the sky ‘til it shattered,”

you giggled at the thought of it, and snuggled more into the blanket cocoon satoru wrapped you both in.

“i bet it’d be cathartic,”

“do you think it’d reach whatever’s up there?”

aliens? god? the infinite he can’t get his hands on, maybe. it was all up in the air.

“maybe if you yell loud enough,”

satoru shrugged at your simple answer. he was thinking about this before you got here, you’ve gathered, but he tended to grasp at the harder solutions instead of the simple ones in reach. he was an overthinking and philosophical mess when he’d had no sleep.

“maybe,” he said, “we’ll have to try it,”

he began drifting his hand around your back. slowly drawing patterns, writing words, marking circles around your spine. you could find yourself ready to fall back asleep right then. best not rub it in though.

it was hard for the stars to shine brightly this close to the city. the light pollution seeping from tokyo battled the stars for dominance, and it always won.

satoru looked up at the night sky. for guidance, for a sign, for divine intervention. the wind carried the scent of dead leaves.

he’d hope that he’d go the same way. leaves were beautiful at every stage of their lives, he thought. stark, shiny green one moment and a deep myriad of autumnal colors the next. yellow for a bit, orange for just a breath, red maybe if it felt like it. it fell, plagued the ground, but was never considered litter or unkempt looking. it was beautiful, even when it was dead and served no purpose.

he’d wished father time would be as nice to him as he’d been to leaves.

was it father time? death itself? or god, maybe. maybe it was nothing at all.

satoru hugged you closer, if that was even possible.

it all seemed so infinite. the infinite outcomes and the endlessness of it all seemed to haunt him greater than any curse could.

all he could focus on was the person in his lap. he’d hope you were together in every lifetime. in every timeline.

you were matching stains on a graphic tee gifted by a lover. you were two ice-cream covered spoons on the edge of the sink. maybe you were two leaves dancing on the ground, waiting for the next time that the wind would bring you another adventure.

but for now, you were you. and satoru was himself.

and there’s nothing wrong with that. it’s a beautiful thing to be painfully mundane sometimes. to not be the strongest, not have the power of infinity, and to not know the next move. the answer was in front of him all along, as usual, and obvious as well.

he exhaled deeply.

“c’mon, let’s get back to bed”

you were drifting off to sleep already, but the sudden vibration of his words pulled you out of it.

“mm? are you sure? we can sit outside as long as you want. i don’t mind,”

“i know,” he said, “it’s okay. i’ll carry you. don’t worry about getting up”

in one swift motion, satoru was up to his feet with you cradled in his arms. he stepped inside, locked the door, and made way for the bedroom.

he carefully put you back in bed. when he reached down to place your head on the pillow, you pulled him in for a deep kiss.

he just seemed like he needed it. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling your lips away but keeping him close.

he leaned in and cupped your face in his hands with a smile. he knew what you were going to say before you could even open your mouth.

“i’m okay, i promise,”

“i believe you”

you didn’t.

but he meant it. everything you do for him brings him an immeasurable amount of comfort, and even if he didn’t want to talk about it, just having you there to sit with him was more than enough.

“i love you,” he said.

and you answered, as you always do.

“i love you more,”

you didn’t. you couldn’t, he thought. it would be impossible to top the amount of adoration he holds for you. but he’d indulge you a little bit and let you think that. only silently he’d fight that fight, knowing you’d deny it if he ever voiced that.

satoru gave you a final kiss on the forehead before climbing into bed next to you. the lights were off, the house was cold, but underneath the covers was the perfect temperature.

you shifted close to him to steal some of his body heat.

he made sure his infinity was off so he could hold you even closer. it was the first night in a while he was able to sleep so soundly.

all content © cinnamoneve 2023. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

#★ jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #gojo #♡ satoru

1K notes · View notes

crystalsnow95z · 1 year

Note

Can I request Jimin coming down with a cold during a fanmeet? so army is worried for him but he stifles his sneezes and pretends he is okay

This got really long.. sorry for the ridiculous amount of fluff in the beginning before getting to the actual fanmeet.

Sorry he's apparently very bad at pretending he's okay but that's just how it came out🤷‍♀️

"Jiminie, I don't know what I should wear." Hoseok whined from the closet, bringing out several different outfits, dropping some as he walked.

"Did you bring out your whole wardrobe?" Jimin giggles when he sees his roommate up to his nose in clothes, dropping them onto his bed, going back for the clothing he lost.

"No, maybe a quarter of it? Did you already choose yours Mini?" Hoseok starts pairing outfits together.

"Yeah I did last...ah...heh..heh'tichi !" Jimin quickly covers his face. "Heh..hehitdhi!"

"Bless you, Jiminie. You've been sneezing a lot since yesterday. Are you sure you're up for this?" Hoseok looks over the younger vocalist. Jimin's nose was pink, and his voice came out soft and congested.

"Yes, if I take some medicine I'll be..heh..heh'itch!" Jimin sniffles, rubbing his nose. He wasn't feeling well at all, but he didn't want to let army down. His sinuses were swollen, causing a throbbing headache and his throat was sore, having to speak softly so it didn't hurt as much to talk.

"I'll go get you some medicine.." Hoseok leaves the room, going into the bathroom where Yoongi and Taehyung were brushing their teeth. He opens the medicine cabinet, pulling out the cough syrup.

Taehyung spits into the sink. "Is Jiminie still not feeling well?"

"No, he's gotten worse overnight, but he seems to still be excited to go to the fanmeet.." Hoseok explains, leaving the bathroom with Taehyung at his heels.

"I heard your cold got worse.. I wanted to see..ah Minnah.. your nose is red now.." Taehyung goes up to Jimin, touching the tip of his nose.

"I'm okay Tete. It's just a little cold." Jimin smiles, trying to stop his urge to sniffle with his brothers standing in front of him.

"Here, take this, Jiminie." Hoseok pours him a shot of medicine, trying to pass it over to him. "Huh? Jiminie?"

Jimin steps back instead of grabbing it putting up a finger, his breath hitching as a sneeze builds. "Heh..heh..Heh'tichi! Heh...heitxchugh..!" He sniffles, taking the medicine in one swallow. "Thanks, Hyungie.."

"Hopefully it'll work quickly.. we only have ten minutes until staff comes to get us. Do you need anything else? Some water? Some pain pills? I'm already ready. I just need to put on my shoes." Taehyung's voice is thick with worry, but he knew Jimin wouldn't stay home to rest.

"Ten minutes? Aiish.." Hoseok starts digging through his pile of clothes. "Okay..okay.. I narrowed it down!"

"That would be great, Taehyungie. I got a bit of a headache." Jimin picks up a jacket from Hoseok's bed, trying to hide how awful he felt. "What about this one? It'll go good with those pants you're holding."

Taehyung leaves the two to figure out Hoseok's wardrobe fiasco.

"Oh, sh*t I'm sorry Jiminie have I been too loud?" Hoseok lowered his voice.

"No, no you're okay.." Jimin lied to spare Hoseok's feelings. Each time his voice raised with excitement, it made the pain intensify. "We need to hurry Hyungie, what about the outfit?" He quickly gets him back on topic.

"That's a great idea. Very cute." Hoseok holds them together. "Now, what shirt. Maybe this one? Or.. maybe a plain white one?" He sighs, looking at four different options he pulled. "Next time, don't let me ask the stylist if I could choose myself.."

"Heh..heh'itch..! You're just overthinking it. Army won't care what you wear. They just want to meet us." Jimin pretends he didn't sneeze, continuing the conversation like nothing happened, but Hoseok doesn't.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? It's going to be loud there and you know we'll get requested to sing at least a bit.. your voice is off.." Hoseok reaches to touch Jimin, checking for warmth in his cheeks.

"It's just a little cold. I'll be fine. I've done full concerts in..ah..ah..achitdh!" Jimin sneezes into his elbow. "Ugh...worse condition." He finishes his sentence wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"I know, I know.. i just worry about you." Hoseok starts getting changed, not having the time to fret over his ailing roommate.

Taehyung returns with pain medicine, shaking out two pills for Jimin. "Here Mini. This should help.." Even with Jimin trying his hardest to hide how he felt, his soulmate didn't fall for his fake smile. "You should try to rest on the way to the meet. Okay?"

Despite sleeping the whole forty-five minutes, it took to reach the fanmeet location Jimin still woke up feeling groggy and even more congested than before. They arrived early so they could get their makeup done, but the lucky Army who won the contest were already waiting outside.

"Oh wow.. thats more people than I thought.." Jungkook presses against the glass to see army lined up outside, the suv driving to the back entrance where they could discreetly enter.

"I hope they won't have to wait too long. We might have to set up a timer system so no one gets too little or too much time." Jin notes.

"Maybe we should've kept the number lower." Namjoon felt nerves churning in his stomach. Meeting army up close was much harder than performing for all of them.

"We made the meet two and a half hours this time.. we'll be fine." Yoongi looks at Jimin when he hears a loud sniffle from him. "I thought you were getting over your cold.. are you okay?"

"I thought I was too, but this morning it was worse.." Jimin gets a tissue, trying to clean up his face for the makeup artist to work with, but when he wipes away the drip, he triggers even more sneezes. "Hehitduch! Heh..heh..hehitcjsh! Heh..heh..." The last sneeze doesn't come on its own, having to force it out by rubbing and wiggling his nose. "Hah..haschi!"

Hoseok gets him a new tissue. "Here you go, Minnah."

"Thanks Hyung.." Jimin blows his nose, soaking the tissue with thick mucus. "I'm sorry Noona.." he bows, trying his best to stifle his sneezes as she tries to get his face done as quickly as possible.

"It's okay Jimin-ssi. Just tell me if you can't hold it back or if it becomes too much." The stylist says with a sympathic smile.

Jimin sat there trying to stay still, his breath hitching as he stifled his sneezes, constantly sniffling. He was reaching his limits, eyes watering as the pressure builds up.

"Do you need a break, Jimin-sii? Your eyes are watering..it's okay if you do, sweetheart." She asks, gently wiping a tear away.

Jimin nods, spinning away from her to release the sneezes he was holding, trying his best to not ruin her hard work. "Hehtichih!Heh..hehitcxh! Heh...heh...heihitchugh!" He sniffles loudly, gently dabbing his nostrils. "I'm sorry.." he turns back to face her, letting her touch up around his nose, holding his breath as she works.

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. I'm nearly done." She reassures him with a kind smile. "I'll add extra makeup near your eyes and on your nose.."

The crowd roars in cheers when the members come in site, Jimin only able to pick up the name of his teammates and that they love them. He was glad the medicine kicked in, making it bearable except when they got especially high in pitch.

Jimin waves and bows on his way to the table staff set up for them along with the others members each of them picking up the mic set out for them.

The seven line up, ready to greet army "2!3!" RM cues them to bow, all seven speaking in unison. "We are BTS."

The crowd cheers loudly, the fannmeet officially beginning.

"Army! Hello!" Jin checks his mic, the crowd all greeting him with cheers and hellos.

"Army..I purple you." Taehyung tries his mic next, army mimicking him, waving various purple things to show their love.

Jimin felt his stomach tighten, knowing full well army would be able to hear his congested voice when he spoke. He wanted them to have fun, not worry about him the whole time. He let all the others go first before going, keeping his short and sweet. "Hello, I'm Jimin. I'm so excited to be here."

Hoseok quickly starts talking right after him, trying to distract army. "Are you ready to have some fun?"

Sh*t..

Jimin could feel the tickle return at the very edge of his nose, his breath hitching to sneeze, but he used a trick Yoongi told him, rubbing his tongue across the top of his mouth, relaxing when it actually worked.

The first thing on the agenda of things to do with a Q&A, a bowl of questions being brought to the table.

"Alright army let's try to see how many we can get through in 20 minutes!" Hoseok reaches in the bowl, struggling with the English writing."{Could you do Silver spoon for army?} Namjoon-ah what one is silver spoon?"

"Ah..baepsae, baepsae." Namjoon answers him.

"They want to see your hip thrusts." Yoongi teased, Hoseok's ears turning red.

Hoseok playfully shoves him. "Only if you dance with me." He challenges the eldest rapper

"I don't think I remember it all." Yoongi admits.

"I'll show you Hyung." Taehyung gets up, speaking the lyrics as he does the chorus.

"Ah, ah, okay okay. Let's go. Us three." Yoongi sets up his phone, placing the mic next to it, starting the song in the middle.

As the three distract army Jimin takes it as his chance to sneeze, pressing his lips tightly together to try to silence it, a squeak coming out.

"You need a tissue Jimin?" Namjoon whispers by his ear.

"No, no, I'm fine." Jimin sniffles. If he kept grabbing tissues, he'd worry army. He'd much rather try to suffer silently. "I might have to wear a mask when we do the signing event, but I don't want to ruin their photos for now.."

"Not might, you'll have to. We don't want to get them sick." Jin tells him sternly.

Jimin nods.

"Okay challenge done! Next question." Hoseok uses his hands to silence army.

Namjoon reaches in plucking out a purple piece of paper. "What are your hobbies outside of music? Ah.. you should know I love going to museums and I really want to travel more for pleasure. Jungkook-ah?"

"Hmm...I haven't really done much lately.. I'm just working out..ah! I took up boxing again.. me and Jimin-sii both have."

The crowd cheers, and several army in the back ask for a demonstration.

"Boxing now? No, no we don't have gloves." Jungkook makes an excuse, not wanting to make Jimin use up what little energy he had.

The army in front agrees, shouting no, spending the message that Jimin wasn't doing well down the line, whispering and telling them to pass it on.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Jungkook asks curiously, noticing them leaning close to each other.

"Maybe they are planning a surprise for us?" Taehyung shrugs.

"Hah..hah.." Jimin covers his face, eyes watering as his breath hitching as another sneeze builds up, this time he didn't stop the sneeze. It just never came. He tried to rub the pain away, to no avail.

"Jiminie, do you need a break?" Taehyung asks when he sees him, but Jimin shakes his head, folding his hands in front of him.

"No.. no I just thought I had to sneeze, but I guess I don't." Jimin smiles through the pain. "What was the next question?"

"Ah, it was about pets, but you don't have any, so you're good. Here. Drink some water.." Taehyung passes him a waterbottle, taking over the conversation gushing over his dear Yeotan. "My mom sent me the cutest video yesterday. Hang on, army.. I'll show you." Taehyung pulls out his phone, searching for the small video and posting it on his social."Ta-da. It's done!" He smiles, watching the crowd rush on their phone to see where he posted it.

Jimin takes a drink of water, trying to soothe his throat. With all the mucus draining into his throat from his sniffling,it was irritating his throat, and Taehyung could hear it. He looks down, coughing while army was busy watching the clip Tae posted.

Hoseok reaches for Jimin's hand, giving it a squeeze. "You okay, Mini?"

"Yes. I think I need to go blow my nose, though.." Jimin admits, not wanting to continue to make himself worse.

"Go Jiminie, it's okay. We can handle the questions from here. We know each other well enough if they have any questions specifically for you." Hoseok reassures him.

Jimin gets up, leaving quickly to the bathroom. "Heh..heh'tichi! Heit..chi!" He sneezes into his hands, grimacing with the sticky mucus sprays onto them. "Ugh..this is the worst.." he sighs, trying to turn on the sink without touching the knob with his sticky hands.

"Here.. let me do it."

"Aiish!"Jimin jumps when he hears a voice in the bathroom with him, reaching to the faucet.

"Ah. I'm sorry Jimin hyung.. i just saw you struggling..." The young man bows. He was one of the Army invited to the event.

"Are you okay Jimin-sii?" One of the security rush to him when they hear his surprised yell,ready to protect him, but Jimin shakes his head.

"No, no, it's okay. I just didn't know he was already in here. It's okay." Jimin tells him, going back to washing the goo from his hands. "He was in here first.."

He backs off, but doesn't leave the bathroom.

"Here, Jimin hyung.. ah, Jimin-sii." He holds out a small packet of tissues from his fanny pack. "I'll see..see you when you come ba-back out. Feel better soon." He stammered nervously to look at Jimin in his eyes, leaving the restroom.

"Ah, thank you.." Jimin smiles. "Cute.." He was thankful that he didn't overstep his boundaries. He could've easily watched him from the stall until he left. He opened the tissue packet, blowing his nose, needing two tissues to clear it.

"Are you ready to go back?" The bodyguard asks when Jimin finishes washing his hands a second time.

"Yes. Thank you.." Jimin quickly returns to the table with the others sneezing three more times along the way, taking his seat. "Sorry, Army." He speaks into his microphone.

"It's okay!" They call back to him.

After a few games with the members they reached the part he was most nervous for, going face to face with army for the fan sign.

They lined up in a single file line, security keeping everything under control.

"Hello."Jungkook greets the first army warmly.

Jimin's breath hitched for another sneeze, but he refused to let it out, clamping his mouth shut, closing his eyes tightly as the pressure builds. It took a few more moments for the pain to dull down.

"Jimin-sii?" The young army girl asks shyly. "Are you okay?"

"Sorry..sorry.. I'm okay.." he bows his head, taking the book she offered him, signing the page presented to him. "What's your name?"

"It's Anki.."

"That's a pretty name.." Jimin's voice cracks halfway through.

"Feel better soon Oppa.. thank you. Uhm.. this is for you.." she presents him a crochet chick. "Me and my older sister made this for you.." she gestures to the older woman behind her who was giving Taehyung a stuffed bear in a tiger hat.

"You made this for me?" Jimin's eyes widen, gently running his hand across the stuffed animal. "Thank you so..heh..heh.." Jimin hides his face behind the plush, holding the sneeze back. "Ah..sorry.. Thank you.."

"It's okay if you need to sneeze.. i don't mind and either will my sister." Anki reassures him, moving on to Hoseok.

"Hello Jimin-sii." Anki's sister greets him. "Thank you for being here.."

"Thank you for waiting for us and for this beautiful gift.." Jimin hugs the chick to his chest. "It's really cute."

"That makes me happy. It took a month to finish all seven of them." She smiles brightly, passing him an old poster.

"Ah..this was..ah..heh..heh..Sorry.." Jimin sniffles forcing the sneeze back down, using a tissue to wipe his nose before signing.

"It's okay. You can't help getting sick. Just take care of yourself for me.." she folds her poster back up, moving to Hoseok, pulling out a stuffer squirrel, J-hope squealing happily at the kind gesture.

I don't remember the line moving this fast before...

Jimin was relieved it was going by quickly, greeting each army with a kind smile despite putting a mask on, engaging in small talk despite the raging headache and constant itch in the tip of his nose, forcing his sinuses to drain into the back of his throat, making him have to constantly clear his throat to get his voice out.

The boy he met in the bathroom approaches him. "I ah..I made this for you.." he offers him a goodie bag. "I..uhm.. I added some cough drops. I'm nearly over my cold.. so I don't need them anymore.."

"Thank you, that's very thoughtful...I'm okay though. Don't worry." Jimin ruffles through the bag, smiling when he pulls out the small collection of stickers having various memes from run bts.

"Please, Jimin-sii, you don't have to hide it.. you will worry us more if you keep hurting yourself.." He reached for Jimin's hand. "It's okay, to not be okay.."

Jimin squeezes the boy's hand. "It seems there's no hiding it, huh? Alright. I'll keep that in mind.."

Jimin stopped trying to hold back his sneezes when it was too painful, sneezing into a tissue. Army tried not to make a big deal about it, only giving him a quick bless you.

The fanmeet came to an end, the boys bidding farewell to army.

"Thank you for coming!" Namjoon gathers his members for one final bow. Jimin felt shaky on his feet, arms around Hoseok and Taehyung to help support him.

"Get well soon Park Jimin, We love you!" Army chant. Jimins eyes overflow with emotions tearing up. "Thank you army.. next time.. I hope to be able to give you my all.."

#bts sickfic #bts #bts boys #bts fanfic #bts sickie #bts taehyung #bts namjoon #bts jhope #bts jungkook #bts jimin #jimin sickie #bts snz #bts sick fic #bts yoongi #bts jung jungkook #kpop snz #kpop sickfic

22 notes · View notes

laylaylamode · 7 months

Note

I know I'm hellaciously late but any cute Valentine's Day interactions for the Stacies :3 whether it's with their respective partners or Galentine's Day

Sure! I'd say that this ask could pertain to Valentine's Day so I'm gonna go with Galentine's Day for the girlies.

---

"Awwww, you guys!" Stacie Q covered her mouth and tried not to squeal as she turned around in the mirror. Her outfit was obviously inspired by Rosalina, and behind her the other Stacie's wore inspired outfits perfectly in theme with hers—Stacie B as Princess Daisy and Stacie A as Princess Peach.

With no green equivalent female character it was a wonder what Stacie T would wear, but she looked perfectly content in her stylish Queen Meralda fit. And Stacie Q was touched by the dedication her friends had to research the lesser known character.

"A group cosplay is the best gift ever! Whose idea was this?"

"Mine, obviously." Stacie A smirked and gestured at herself. "Alright, who's next with their group contribution?"

"Moi!" Stacie B waved her cellphone. "Check your phones. I created this app where you can scan someone's clothes and see how much it's worth."

"A gift that helps us judge other people even more than we already do? Scandalous." Stacie T smirked down at her phone. She was gonna have a lot of fun with this one. "My turns, lovelies. Since we went through a lot this year I figured we could do some stress relieving with a smash therapy session. We're going to a rage room tonight, and then detoxing at the spa tomorrow."

The girls all cheered. Nothing like smashing glass and breaking things to get some tension out of the system!

"Okay, okay! My turn!" Stacie Q checked her phone. "Should be here any minute now—oh good! She's walking up now!"

The 'she' in question was Franny, who was about to knock on their apartment down before Stacie Q flung it open and yanked her inside. "Franny Banani, you're right on time! In honor of Galentine's Day together, my gift is to recommend her as an honorary Stacie!"

Franny did a double take and raised her eyebrow. First at their outfits and second at the suggestion. "What? Why?"

Stacie B threw her arms around her and have her a squeeze. "Because we totes love you! And your middle name is Stella, so it's not too far off."

"I'm gonna beat Mach's ass for telling you my middle name..."

"Plus, you're more tolerable than most people," Stacie T added. "Which is a lot coming from me. And I can't keep being the only logical person in this group."

"Join us!" Stacie A smirked and held up a Bowsette inspired fit. "It comes with cute outfiiiiiits. You know you want tooooooo."

Franny weighed her options. If she ran for the door, Stacie Q would block her. If she stayed, they'd make her play dress up and probably watch a movie with their frequent commentary. Not too bad. She sighed and folded her arms.

"Fine..."

"Yay!" The Stacie's cheered.

"But I'm not a Stacie, just Franny. And I'm not wearing that leather mini-skirt."

Stacie T sighed dramatically. "You've got nice long legs, but if you don't want your new boyfriend Beat to see them..."

Franny narrowed her eyes but it did nothing to counter the blush on her cheeks. "...give me the skirt."

"Atta girl!" Stacie B fist pumped. "Best Galentine's Day ever!"

#ask #anon #callyieverse #spectacular silver wolf #the stacie's #Franny shortman

8 notes · View notes

bevswashere · 2 months

Text

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 28: After Graduation

March 2009 Two weeks later.

Graduation—a thirty minute meeting with all our instructors in which they handed us leather bound certificates, then told us to move out by the end of the month—was lackluster, to say the least. Then once it was over, I found myself unexpectedly saddened, stagnant. I realized there’s nothing left for me here, there hasn’t been for some time, and there’s also nothing to look forward to. No home to make a triumphant return, no family to share this occasion with. Nothing left to do except pack my things and wait for the wind to push me in the direction I should take.

I finish emptying my closet as Nanami knocks on the door, “I’ve finished packing,” he tells me.

“Already?” There’s two nights left before we’re expected to leave. Most of my things are tucked away in boxes, stuffed into a suitcase, with no destination in mind. The rest are spread out across the floor and piled atop my desk. “Are you sending them home?”

“Actually,” he opens the door wide and steps in. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about my plan.” He says, “I’m going into the city.”

“I figured.” The routes for Jujutsu are limited, an on-call sorcerer working from campus, a pay for hire like Mei-san or Satoru, or moving back with your clan to work from home. The third option was stripped from me some time ago. “Isn’t that why we’ve been packing all our stuff?” I finish folding the sweater in hand—an old birthday gift from Suguru, blue and soft—and force it into the suitcase. “I’ll go with you. There’s plenty of places in Tokyo.”

“No, I’m moving on from Jujutsu.”

I halt my efforts to fold my clothes. “What do you mean?”

Nanami takes a deep breath, lets his eyes focus on the floor. “There’s lots of starting jobs in finance that pay well. I’ve already found a place to put a deposit for rent. It’s not much but—”

“You’re leaving me?”

“No.” He takes a step closer, puts his hands up in caution, hoping to repair a situation that’s already been ruined. “It has nothing to do with you, Kaede-chan. It’s this life, it’s tiring. I have no intention to be like Mariko, we can still see and speak with each other regularly, and if you need anything at all—”

“You’re leaving me.” I can’t think straight. The room has become small, narrowed down to my only friend left, a final lifeline to my humanity, and it’s being pulled away, drawn out into the distance until I can’t see him anymore. “What did I do wrong?”

“You haven’t done anything. This isn’t about us.”

The air grows thin, pressing out of my lungs at too quick a rate. “Get out.”

”What?”

”Get out!” I scream. “GET OUT! Get away from me!” I push him by the shoulders until he’s out of the room, then slam the door shut.

”Kaede-chan,” he says from outside, “Let’s be sensible about this. I’m not leaving you.”

Somehow I’ve crumbled next to the door, cradling shaking limbs. “Everyone leaves.” I gasp for air, but can’t find it. The room feels so small, humid. There’s a deep seeded pain at the center of my chest, pulsating up into my throat. “Breathe,” I try to tell myself, “Breathe.” But I can’t, I can’t feel anything other than the overwhelming terror that everyone I love is gone. Dead or moved on. I’ve given everything to these people, and they’ve chipped off what they could, now nothing’s left. “Is this what it means to be strong?” I think. “To end up completely alone?”

With every shuddering breath, I feel the heartache I’ve stored away for years in its fullness. I pry myself up from the floor, vision clouded, hips crashing into the furniture that suffers the worst of my outrage. The closet door snaps off the hinges when my foot slams into it, the drawers of my dresser break to pieces when they collide with the wall, the mirror across from it shatters when my fist passes through. My entire room, everything, is destroyed at my hand.

I sink back down to the middle of the room, fragments of wood and glass all around. Tears spill down into the floor, desperate sputters for something to hold escape my lips. A parent, a sibling, a friend, someone. Someone who would just hold and not let go—but the hours go by, and the sun rises again. No one is here.

The morning’s first rays of light break through the window, shining on my tear stained face, reflecting against the scattered shards of glass. “What’s wrong with me?” I wonder. “Am I that cursed that everyone around must think me unnecessary?”

The light catches a nearby glint of white. My hair, our tether, splayed across the ground. I run my fingers against the strand, remember it pressed between our hands, all the promises he never kept. I strangle it within my fist, “Asshole.” To think how hard I pushed myself to be strong, the hours spent waiting for him, listening to him speak to me as if he weren’t destroying my soul bit by bit. I love him so much that I hate him. I want him to suffer and experience the greatest happiness all at the same time. To never face me again, but crumble at my feet and beg for my forgiveness.

There’s a pair of scissors lying on my desk. I drag myself towards it, unable to will my legs to work. With a swipe of my hand across the desk surface, several things including the scissors clatter to the ground. I place the white strand of hair between the blades, only for it to feel as if concrete had been placed between them. More tears spill out from my tired eyes, “No, please.” I sit up, squeeze down hard on the handles, until the scissors break in half and the white hair remains unscathed. “Please,” I beg to no one, hugging my knees into my chest, sobbing into the inner skin of my arm, where Suguru’s name scars my flesh. Ghosts haunting me at every turn. They’ve marked me, ruined me, and I would do anything for one of them to be here right now.

∞

The sun is blaring above my head by the time I get there, marching up the marble steps, pushing through a line of ordinary people waiting to enter some kind of prayer room. I hear them whine as I pass, “Hey!”, “Wait your turn!”

The wooden frame of the shoji clatters loudly when I open it. He’s there, sitting at the front of the room, curled up in the same costume I’d last seen him in two years ago.

Death to Fools Punishment to the Weak Love to the Strong

He lulls his head at me, “What do we have here?”

Me, sleepless, angry, face stained with tears that refuse to cease, uniform covered in the faint wooden splinters of broken furniture. I let myself in, weight dragging each of my slow steps. I can see Suguru tense ever so slightly in his seat, readying himself, but when I reach where his platform meets the rest of the ground, I fall to my knees.

“Manami-san.” A woman answers his call from the side door. “Cancel the rest of our appointments for today. Don’t let anyone else into this room.” She voices her agreement, and leaves, most likely to tell all those people I passed to go home. We wait there in our places as the commotion from beyond the doors slowly quiets. Suguru leans his elbow onto his knee, his jaw onto his fist. “Are you in need of a shaman?”

“I’ll do anything you want.” I ball the fabric of my pants into my fists, fresh tears spilling out onto my cheeks. “If you want me to kill people… I’ll…. If that’s what it takes for someone to stay.”

“Have you really exhausted all your options that it’s come to this?”

There’s a difference in the way he speaks, his movements, an element of something manic that wasn’t quite there before. But I’m in no place to care, “Your love, friendship, whatever you want to call it, I thought it was unconditional.”

“For you?” Suguru pauses. “I suppose it was.”

“It’s not anymore?”

“You’re the one who walked in here offering to kill people for me.”

The tears drip down into my lap, eyes seal shut from the heavier sobs overcoming me. My whimpering echoes inside of this cold room, makes it sound more feeble somehow. Suguru sighs at my pitiful condition, “Shall I save you, Kaede-chan?”

My neck cranes back up towards him, smiling, a hand extended towards me. When I take it, he pulls me up onto the platform, and I collapse in his grasp. He cradles me, rocking me back and forth slowly as I continue to cry. “What’s that smell?” I sputter, picking up the scent of something chemical and lemon from his robe.

“Ah that,” he says. “A lot of these people like to hug me as thank you after these meetings. The spray’s to get rid of the monkey smell.”

His voice is filled with a foreign disdain when he says it. Monkeys. I force myself not to react. “I see.”

Suguru’s fingers stroke the top of my head, “You would really kill people for me?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“You understand what this would mean, don’t you? They’ll name you a criminal. You’ll be at odds with everyone you’ve ever known.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Is that so?” he hums, “My love is worth everyone else’s hate?”

My fingertips meet with the skin of his arms, buried beneath the robe’s thick sleeves. It’s soft, comforting. “I just don’t want you to leave.”

“And what if I die? Who will love you then?”

“If you die, I’ll die with you.”

I feel the stir of his chest when he laughs to himself quietly. His hand cups the back of my head, and he looks me in the eyes. “Are you done crying?” I nod. “Good, there’s something I want you to see.”

Suguru guides me by the hand through the next door hallway, it’s vacant and bathed in golden light from the setting sun. “You know what my favorite thing has always been about you, Kaede-chan?”

We turn the corner, and I grip his arm in the way a lost child would. “What is it?”

“You’re so honest,” he laughs to himself. “Even when you try to lie, your true feelings are always so obvious.” We turn another corner. “That’s how, when you said you’d die for me, I knew you weren’t lying. I truly,” he stops and pulls me into an embrace, “Love you for that.”

When we break apart, he holds my chin in his hand, amber eyes crinkling as he smiles. “My Kaede-chan.” I see the walls around us more clearly now, the doors. I begin to sob again when he kisses my forehead.

“Please don’t do this.”

“I love you.”

“Please.”

Suguru grabs me roughly by the shoulders, pushing me through the front doors with such force that I stumble to my hands and knees. I scramble to rush towards the door, but, “No, please wait!” it closes in my face. “Suguru!” I scream, fists pounding against the doors. “SUGURU! PLEASE!” These doors are far more sturdy than anything in my room, but not impossible to break down. It wouldn’t make a difference if I forced my way in, though, I need him to welcome me in this pitiful state, to want me here. “Suguru. Please let me in. I have nowhere else to go. Please. I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll kill non-sorcerers and anyone else you want me to! I’ll do anything! SUGURU!” I scream and cry iterations of this, until my voice goes hoarse. The sun has fully set, and there’s a chill in the air making my body shiver. My fists, too weak to clench, rest against his door still, tears dripping into a small puddle by my knees. Hours have passed. “Please.”

“You know, if anyone finds out you were here, they’ll have you executed.”

“Turn me in then,” I say weakly, “You’d be doing me a favor.”

“I would, but chance is they’ll sentence me too for coming here.”

I barely glance over my shoulder where Satoru is standing yards away. “Poor you.”

#geto suguru #gojo satoru #gojo x oc #kento nanami #koi no yokan #uematsu kaede #jujutsu kaisen #shoko ieiri

6 notes · View notes

joeys-piano · 5 months

Text

Tagged by @voxofthevoid, who usually tags me in writing games when I feel a sort of way with my writing. It's happened twice so far, not including this time, so I feel something. I hope you don't mind the whiplash because I'm going off of my most recent works, and I've written for 5 different fandoms in the past 6 months.

Soft tagging: @fellshish, @sid3buns, @boinin, @kryptalia, @chenqing9, @heymacareyna

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

To the Marrow, To the Bone | Blue Lock

“Guys like us…” Isagi pauses, and then he swallows. “The only thing that makes it better is to win the game, and prove them wrong.” And to show them, he doesn’t say that but it’s evident at his mouth. Him pressing edges of a broken nail against his lips now to cool the sting, him pulling away as he’s out of bed to feel the world beneath his feet. “And there’s no other option – ”

But that’s not true.

He thinks one of his ribs has shrunken in, like a ball and chain for a smaller heart than the one fighting inside his chest. Because he breathes in—all he smells is a brand new football from a shelf. And it’s on his clothes, on his bed, on his pillow, within the padding, on the heavy lurch of him trying to walk, and irrefutably in his mouth. He can swipe it across his lips. It’s in his organs, blood and bones. It’s the cover box to a thousand puzzles pieced together when he’s on the pitch. Because in Blue Lock, you start in the middle. But in Ichinan you start at the edge, and once the border is in you build the next one as you meander towards the centre.

Where the Book Ends, It’s Hard to Say | OHSHC

And so it goes that every fairytale had a beginning, middle, and end.

The doors had opened; the doors were closed. The guests arrived; the guests were home. The play was had; the play was done. The hosts were princes, and now there were none.

As Fire Tempers Steel, So Too Does The Cloth | Blue Eye Samurai

Safer still was a battered inn, battered safekeep, a single room, about as wide as one tatami if someone lied to you about the length.

Behind the checkpoint to old Kyoto, these sprung up as the shrines do. Twenty steps in—there’s an inn. Upon thirty others—then there’s two. One could pilgrim the forty stations of rickety rooftops above their heads before every stray line turns to one. Old Kyoto, there at the end. If you can manage it: sunken floorboards, nothing softer than your flesh, a row of strangers sent to rooms where even two of you was just too much, and there is no guarantee you’ll survive here after a single meal off the bone, a missing coin or two, someone fights, pray the sutra: and survive the night. Yet safer still was to wake up with a stranger inside your breath, tongue for tongue trying to bite you before they lose you for a ghost; but even easier was to wake up beneath a cedar or its limb.

Buoyancy | Link Click

“I’m taller.”

“So you are.”

“And so are you.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Cheng Xiaoshi narrows his eyes. “We’ll be in and out before it rains.”

“Then after you,” Lu Guang tells him. There’s enough room to move around him. “Hold the umbrella.”

He lets go. But the touch of him still remains: the trace of his outline fades to nothing just as silently as he walks, but still is the warmest spot on his elbow—as far as Xiaoshi would’ve noticed.

Sasaki and Ogasawara Discover Friendship is a Beautiful Thing | Sasaki to Miyano

“So spill it. What are they like?”

“Cute.”

He considers. “Anything else?”

“Oh, the height difference.”

“Just call ’em short, man!”

Sasaki laughs. “That’s weird, huh?”

“Unbelievable…”

“Big wooooooorrrd, ’gasawara.”

“So y’think they’re cute – ”

“I know they’re cute.”

“ – and you’re into shorties.”

“Am I that tall?”

They’re about the same height while sitting down. And who gives a fuck, but he indulges him.

“So you’re Godzilla and have a crush on ’em.” He finishes the chickens without him choking, sparing the soggy ones into a corner for Sasaki to nibble on. “And like ’em so much you don’t wanna hurt ’em.” Between the nibbling, Sasaki nods. “So what else?”

Hostel | Trigun

He is a cruel man, Nicolas, to love the worst of him, Needle Noggin. And to say the worst of him is still as beautiful as this fucked up little world.

#joey speaks #tagged #tag game #I don't write as much dialogue anymore but I'm loving the sass that's coming through

5 notes · View notes

ivoronical · 2 years

Text

Cooking Disaster?

——————————————————————————

Cole was standing at the kitchen counter. Today was his and his partner’s one year anniversary and he wanted to do something special for them. He didn’t want to just go out and buy something, he wanted to make them something and what better to make than a cake. Cole had a problem with adding extra ingredients into his food, which normally caused it to turn out inedible, but he told himself that this time he would follow the directions exactly, no extra stuff.

After breakfast he told everyone to stay out of the kitchen and, against their wishes, they agreed and the three of them went off to do their own thing. Once all of them were gone Cole walked to the pantry and began to grab the ingredients that the recipe called for. It took him a few minutes to find everything before he sat all of it on the counter and took a step back.

He read the directions and started to mix the dry ingredients together first. He scooped up the first cup of flour and dumped into the large bowl in front of him. When he did so flour went everywhere, mostly on the black AC/DC t-shirt he was wearing. He brushed the flour off of it and realized that he probably needed to wear an apron of some sort so he didn’t ruin it. He took a look around and spotted Zane's pink, frilly apron on the back of the pantry door.

He considered his two options: 1.) wear the apron and keep his clothes clean or 2.) don’t wear it and ruin his favorite shirt. He considered them for a minute before deciding to swallow his pride and wear the apron. He slipped it on and tied it in place. After getting the apron on he continued with mixing the cake ingredients.

After he got the dry ingredients successfully mixed together he started on the wet ingredients which he concluded to be relatively easy. Once that was done he grabbed a larger bowl and poured both the dry and wet mixtures into it. After getting both bowls contents into the larger one Cole grabbed the whisk and began to stir the cake batter. While he was stirring he began to hum a tune that he once heard Sensei Wu playing on his flute.

Just as he was getting done with the cake batter he heard someone enter the kitchen. He leaned the whisk on the side of the bowl and turned to see Lloyd eyeing him with a mischievous smile. “What?” He asked the green ninja.

“Nothing,” Lloyd responded holding back a laugh, “I just never thought I’d live to see the day that you would be wearing something pink and frilly.”

Cole’s eyes widened as he looked down at the apron he was wearing. He looked back at Lloyd and glared at him. “You never saw this,” he said his eyes narrowing as he pointed towards the blonde.

“And why should I keep my mouth shut,” Lloyd asked his smile growing wider and his eyes having a mischievous glint in them.

“I’ll tell everyone where your secret candy stash is if you don’t,” Cole threatened.

Lloyd gasped as his eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare!” Lloyd shrieked, one of his hands coming up to clutch his shirt over his heart.

“Try me,” Cole spoke with a menacing tone and a smirk.

“Fine,” Said the green ninja reluctantly agreeing to the earth ninjas request. “Here’s your icing by the way,” he grumbled as he handed the bag in his hands to Cole.

“Thanks,” Cole said excitedly. He turned and sat the icing on counter next to the batter. When he turned back around Lloyd was gone. Cole shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the cake—or cake to be. He bent down and dug around the cabinet and pulled out a round silver cake pan. He sat the pan on the counter and grabbed the bowl of cake batter. He carefully poured the batter into the pan making sure not to spill anything.

After getting all the batter into the pan he took it and stuck it in the oven, setting a timer for 30 minutes. After getting the cake in the oven he grabbed the three frosting containers and started to dump them into their own little bowls. Next he grabbed the food coloring from one of the overhead cabinets. He dropped some of red into one bowl to make a bright red for Kai, he put some blue into the second bowl for Jay, and lastly he put about a quarter of what he put in the bright red so he could get a nice pink color for Zane. Once he got all three colors mixed up he sat the bowls to the side, took the apron off, and leaned against the counter waiting for the cake to finish baking.

While he was waiting he played some music on the speaker that Jay had installed in the kitchen a while ago. The first song that came on was Jesus in L.A by Alec Benjamin. As he listened he began to sing and sway to to the music, before getting interrupted that is. "What are you doing?"

Cole jumped a little and whipped around to see who had caught him. As he turned around the song changed to Love Like You from Steven Universe and he saw Kai standing there leaning against the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed. Cole's face softened at the sight of his boyfriend. "Dancin'. Wanna join?" Cole asked his hand extending out toward the elemental master.

Kai's smile widened as he let out a chuckle. "Sure twinkle toes," Kai said lovingly as he took the ravenette's hand. Cole grasped Kai's hand firmly and pulled him to his chest, the hand not holding Kai's going to hold the hotheads waist. He then lead them around the kitchen in a waltz style dance, twirling the smaller when ever he got the chance.

After dancing around for a minute or two the song finally came to a close, Cole dipping Kai down and giving him a chaste kiss to end their dance of love. "I didn't know you could dance like that," Kai said a goofy smile on his face.

"Did you seriously think I learned nothing from Marty Oppenheimer's," Cole retorted.

"Yea, actually," Kai said in seriousness.

"I'm offended," the master of earth said feigning hurt. Just then the timer for Cole's cake went off, startling the two love birds out of their playful bickering. The sound made Cole panic. Kai wasn't supposed to be in the kitchen, yet there he was. The master of earth looked at Kai a look of panic on his face. "I need you to leave, like, now," Cole said in a rush.

Kai chuckled at his boyfriend's panicked state. "Fine," Kai said throwing his hands up in surrender. Before the brunette left he gave Cole a quick kiss. As soon as Kai was out of sight Cole grabbed the oven mitts and took the cake out, sitting it on the stove top. He then turned the oven off and took a deep breath. 'That was close' he thought.

After calming down Cole grabbed the cake with the oven mitts and sat it in the freezer to cool so he could ice it. He waited around in the kitchen for about fifteen minutes before he took the cake back out and sat it on the cake holder tray he found in one of the cabinets. He got all the icing bowls and sat them next to the cake, before he start icing it though he was interupted.

"Is that it?" Lloyd asked as he walked into the kitchen and to the fridge. "Doesn't look half bad."

"Really?" Cole asked turning toward the green ninja. He noticed the very visible sweat stains around his shirt, 'he must have been training' Cole thought.

"Yea, it looks nice and edible," Lloyd responded grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and downing half of it in a matter of seconds.

"Gee, thanks," Cole retorted rolling his eyes.

Lloyd let out a small chuckle, "It really does look good though," he said.

"Thanks," Cole said as he grabbed the remaining white icing and started to smear it on the cake. While he was putting the white icing onto the cake Lloyd walked up beside him and dipped his finger into the icing pulling it out with a big glob of sugary icing on it. "HEY THAT'S NOT FOR YOU," Cole yelled out smacking the blonde's back as he turned away from the mad ravanette.

"Hey you almost made me drop it!" Lloyd exclaimed while eating the frosting.

"You shouldn't have any anyways," Cole said grumpily as he continued icing the cake.

"You knew I couldn't resist it," Lloyd replied teasingly. "Anyways, I gotta go, good luck on finishing the cake," he said as he walked out the kitchen.

Cole glared in his direction, taking a mental note to get back at him later, and turned back to the cake letting out a tired sigh. No one told him that baking was so tiring, it always seemed to effortless when Zane or Jay did it but the truth was that it was so incredibly tiring. Despite his tiredness Cole grabbed the red colored icing and put it into the piping bag, twisting the top closed so that none of the icing spilled out. After preparing the piping bag he started to carefully pipe little messy flowers onto the cake. Once he covered about a third of the cake with red flowers he grabbed another piping bag and filled it with the blue icing once again covering a third of the cake with his messy flowers.

It took him about thirty minutes to finish piping the red, blue, and pink flowers onto the cake. When he was finished he took a step back to look at his creation. His nose crinkled up at the sight of the cake in front of him. It definitely wasn't the neatest, but it's the thought that counts so he decided it was good enough considering he was the one that cooked it.

After looking over his 'masterpiece', he cleaned everything up making sure all the dishes were washed and all the ingredients were put back in their place. He finished with that and turned back to the cake. "Now all I have to do is show it to them," he sighed out, head falling to look at the kitchen floor. "First, I have to change," he whispered out once realizing that he was still wearing Zane's frilly pink apron.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cole then went into his and his partners shared bedroom and grabbed a nice outfit to change into. Once changed he looked at the full length mirror sitting in the corner of their room, making sure he didn't look stupid or overdressed. He had changed into a black button up shirt and a pair of black dress pants that had been a gift from his dad a few years ago. After finally giving himself enough courage to present his gift to his partners, he went out in search for all of them.

Jay was in his tech lab working on his latest invention when Cole walked in. "Knock knock," he said whilst simultaneously knocking twice on the metal door of the lab. Jay turned his head towards his boyfriend and smiled.

He slide his goggles onto the top of his head. "Hey! Where are you going dressed all handsomely?" the freckled brunette asked with smirk.

"It's a surprise, come on, we gotta go get the other two," Cole spoke with a smile. Jay followed after taking off his goggles and turning off his equipment, his imagination running wild at what the 'surprise' could be. They found Kai in the living room and he was willing and eager to follow the both of them. Whilst the three were roaming around looking for Zane, Kai and Jay intertwined their hands together, talking amongst themselves and sharing small kisses.

The three eventually found Zane and the four of them were on their way to the kitchen. Once they got just outside of the kitchen door Cole stopped them. "I need you all to close your eyes," Cole said, the nervousness apparent in his voice.

"Why?" Zane asked their head tilting to the side as it normally did when they were curious.

"Because its a surprise," Cole explained. The three of them obliged and shut their eyes, allowing their bulky boyfriend guide them into the kitchen and stand them in their place. "I know it may not be the best anniversary present, but I think that it turned out better than expected and I hope you all like it," Cole said taking a deep breath before telling the other three to open their eyes.

They opened their eyes and stared blankly at the cake sat in front of them. To say that their initial reaction was good would an overstatement. The three of them exchanged glances before turning to Cole and bombarding him with questions.

"What spices did you put this one?"

"Which pan did you burn?"

"What kinda of paint did you use to color the icing?"

Cole's eyes watered at the questions, but he still some how kept his cool. He took a deep breath and answered the questions. "I didn't use any spices, I didn't burn a pan, and I used food coloring for the icing. I followed the recipe exactly," he finished.

The three looked shocked at Cole's response. They upset him and they could tell. His voice shook and his eyes were glossy with tears. They all felt terrible and immediately went to hug him. The trio hugged him for a few moments in silence before Jay spoke. "We're really sorry Cole, we didn't mean to upset you," he spoke his voice heavy with guilt.

"It's okay, I should have expected it, it was a stupid idea in the first place," Cole muttered and walked over towards the cake. They all flinched at his words, they never wanted to make him upset, it was just cooking didn't normally end well with Cole. Zane was the first to realize what Cole was doing with the cake when he pick it up and they moved to stop him.

Zane extended their hand towards the cake platter. "Let us try it," they said, "its the least we can do since you spent all day on it."

"You'll just be disgusted by it anyways so whats the point," Cole spoke sadly.

"No, we won't," Kai spoke up, "you made it so no matter if its amazing or terrible we'll still love it."

"Really? You guys mean that?" Cole asked, his uncertainty was clear on his face.

"Yes, of course we do knuckle head now let us try it," Jay softly spoke giving Cole a big toothy smile.

Cole somewhat reluctantly handed the cake over to Zane. The nindroid sat the cake on the counter and grabbed a rather large knife from the knife set sat on the bar. They cut out one decently sized piece and sat it on a plate that Kai had grabbed. Each of them took a fork and got a small bite to try. They counted down from three before sticking the forks in their mouths and chewing the cake.

Jay was the first to say something. "Wow, this is really good!" he exclaimed as he took another bite hums of delight coming from him.

"It is quite delightful," Zane complimented.

Cole's face lit up at their reactions. "You guys really like it?" he asked unsure if they were faking their reactions or not.

"Abso-fucking-lutey," Kai said excitedly, shoveling more of the cake into his mouth.

Cole smiled. He was glad that everything worked out and he didn't screw something up. "You finally finished it huh?" came a voice from the kitchen doorway. Cole turned to see who it was and saw Lloyd there leaning against the door frame freshly showered.

"Yea, I did and it turned out great!" Cole answered.

"Wait, Lloyd you knew about this?" Kai asked the green ninja.

"Yep, knew the whole time, but I have a question."

"What is it Lloyd?" asked Zane.

"What did you guys get Cole, ya know for your guys' anniversary?" the blonde asked the three of them.

They all froze and turned to look at each other with worry. "We, uh, have to go get it actually because it's a custom thing," Jay lied, "so we have to actually go get it...like..right now." Kai and Zane agreed with Jay's lie and they all hurried out of the kitchen to 'go get their gift for Cole', but not before giving the earth ninja a hug and a kiss as a thank you for the cake he had work so hard on.

After the three of them were gone Lloyd spoke again. "They totally forgot dude."

"Yeah I know, but I love them so I don't really care to much." Cole shrugged as he began to clean the mess they had left up. Cole may not be a good cook or baker but at least it didn't end up a disaster this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi everyone Oliver here! I'm so so sorry that it took me this long to get this oneshot done but here it is at last. I'm sorry if it seems rushed towards the end but I really wanted to finish it and get out to you guys. If you have any requests you'd like for me to right you can comment them down below and I'll try my best to do them. Again sorry for the late update but I really hope you like it.:)

With Love,

Oliver

#ninjago #ninjago lloyd #polyninja #lgbtq #cole brookstone #zane julien #jay walker #kai smith #cooking

56 notes · View notes

unhingedselfships · 1 year

Text

The party didn't start for another six hours or so.

Which meant now was the time to start prodding Kimi into moving.

Oh hair and makeup were quick with her, low maintenance as she was in those matters. And if she needed something more intensive, she'd get someone else to do it for her.

But clothes? Kimi had two settings.

Knowing exactly what she was wearing weeks or even months in advance and having it all laid out and ready.

Or, like tonight.

Sifting through more than one extensive closet with no idea what she wanted.

He was glad she'd already started.

Less glad she appeared to have already given up.

She was curled on the floor, in front of a full length mirror, chin tucked on her knees, staring loathingly at the reflection. Clothes were strewn every which where, and she had nothing but basic undergarments on.

Apparently it was one of those days.

"I'm not going," her tone was petulant.

"Do not be a child, Kimberly."

"I don't want to go."

"You wanted to this morning."

"I changed my mind."

"Why," he was rapidly losing patience with the girl.

She glared balefully at him over her shoulder, "Look at me. I'm fucking disgusting."

He felt his temper spike, “Excuse me? You’re insulting my taste?”

Huffing she turned back away from him, but still glared at his form in the mirror.

“You can’t stand there and tell me I’m objectively anything but unattractive. I fit no modern conventions. I appreciate that you like me, for whatever reasons I don’t understand. I don’t, and neither does anyone else.

Her shoulders slumped further, “Dai and Phe don’t count. Phe is attracted to everyone, and Dai probably only stays out of obligation at this point.”

She knew that was a lie, and quite harsh of her but she wasn’t feeling very kind or charitable just then.

Meeting his eyes in the reflection, “We all make poor choices sometimes. I’m yours.”

Watching him, the way his eyes and expression shifted in that subtle way that meant he was deciding how annoyed or upset by something he was.

Voice brisk, “Fishing for compliments, are we, now? Well, you won’t get any more unless you pick something pretty and put it on for me. I didn’t want to go to this either, but you said it would be fun, you said you would go, and I don’t intend to deal with those people alone. So get a hold of yourself and get ready before I get pissed off and do something we’ll both regret.”

She curled slightly tighter before letting out a long breath.

“Nothing looks right. Nothing sits right. I tried. I’ll- Figure something out. Sorry.”

Glaring petulantly at the piles of fabric, she let just the barest hint of teasing slip into her lightening tone, “What are you even talking about, you don’t do regret. And I hate fishing. Most boring anything ever. Next to golf.”

Was she being a child? Absolutely. Was it helping? Sort of.

Whatever worked.

Rolling her neck and staring at him from an awkward angle, “What color should I wear then? Help me narrow it down won’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “Wear something that will match what I’m wearing I guess?” he blinks, glancing at his watch, idea formed, “Hmm. Actually, I haven’t decided what I’m wearing yet. I think it will take me about twenty minutes to decide for sure. Now it’s possible that if someone shows up in my room with her own outfit ready before twenty minutes are up, my mind won’t be made up yet and I might just let someone else decide what I wear. But in twenty minutes, I think I’ll have made a choice on my own. So long, Kimberly! Good luck picking!”

And he turns on his heel and leaves the room.

Blinking at where he had been she huffs, before rising to toe through her options again. Her mood was only mildly improved but oh well, she could manage.

Or well, she thought she could.

Slightly sheepish and very pouty, about seventeen minutes later, still not dressed, she slipped into his room, two hangers in hand.

“I can’t decide.”

He glances at them before pointing towards the left option, “Alright, now you didn’t arrive here with your outfit chosen like I’d asked. But I’m a generous man, so I’ll let you pick my tie. Only the tie.”

He said that like his tie wouldn’t also decide most of his other accessories but she let him have the win. Verbally anyway. And set about choosing one she thought would suit the dress he’d chosen for her, mumbling to herself about how much easier he was to dress than she was.

He leaned over her shoulder as she sifted through her options, “I am much less picky than you.”

She snorted, choked on her breath, before laughing, “Liar!”

And so they bantered as they got ready, and if his touches were a little softer, a little more frequent, than they normally might be well. Neither of them was going to mention it.

#yakkimi #kadokura-verse #kadokura kenshi #drabble #one shot

2 notes · View notes

secretariatess · 2 years

Text

Arvek 10

He did not know how long he stood there, just that it was long enough for the sky to grow ever darker, hiding the wide, deep graves. Something in the back of his mind forced its way through the horror of discovery and reminded him that he had yet to find his brother. Turning away, almost in a daze, he continued his search.

Panic slowly crept into the empty space, mixing the sight of the graves with his missing brother, and on a smaller scale, giving him the realization that he did not remember his way back to the inn. He took a deep breath, determined not to let the panic control him. He just needed a moment to reconsider things. He stopped at a well lit building, considering his options. Cor's disappearance didn't mean that he was actually dead, Arvek told himself. All it meant was that Cor wasn't with him, and he didn't know where he went. Certainly there was a sense of urgency, being in an unfamiliar place with unknown people, but panicking over that before he could confirm it happened would only hinder him. As for getting lost, he couldn't imagine the town was that large. He could find his way back at some point.

Besides, Kendra seemed keen on keeping them. If she realized they were missing, Arvek was certain she could easily find them again.

The panic receded, unable to find a foothold now that he had reasoned things out.

It was still most likely that Cor had wandered off to explore. At this point, he had either finished with his exploration and was making his way back to the inn, if he wasn't already there, or his attention had been caught by something particularly attractive.

But what could this town offer that would be attractive?

Magic.

Just as he was about to set off to find the inn, the answer popped into his head. If Cor had found anything associated with magic, he would have stopped to look. He certainly wasn't a student of magic, nor made any claim to want to be, but Cor did enjoy watching it at work. Of course, this information didn't narrow down anything. Cor could still be anywhere.

Seeing the building next to him was some kind of store, he entered, silently hoping that by asking where he could find businesses associated with magic would not be an odd question to ask.

When he stepped in, he found a young couple, sitting by a table with only a single candle on the center. All by the windows were the rest of the candles, attempting to entice customers in. The young man brightened upon seeing Arvek. He leapt up from his chair, gave a great theatrical pose and said, "Ah, a valued customer! Surely in need of our tailoring services?" He gave Arvek's dress a once over.

"No," Arvek said firmly.

The man's smile briefly gave way to a grimace, but it was back in mere seconds. "Then perhaps we could assist you with something else?" He gestured grandly to the woman, who had remained seated, but was smiling warmly all the same. "Perhaps we could persuade you to sample some of my wife's wonderful cloth?" He held up a finger. "Before you knock it, I think it will be up to even your standards."

"I am not here shop, I'm afraid," Arvek answered, keeping his tone firm. "I am here rather to ask if you know of a place that deals with magic."

With a defeated sigh, the man lowered his arms and his smile. "If it is magic things that you are looking for, we would suggest Old One-eye's."

That was not an encouraging name.

The woman nodded. "The other places sell nothing more parlor tricks. Old One-eye actually knows what she's doing."

Arvek shifted his attention to her, not just because she had given more information about "Old One-eye," but because she did not put on the performance the man did. "Could you perhaps tell me where to find her shop?"

"Certainly." The woman got up from her seat and walked over to one of those windows. Pointing out, she said, "If you take a left at the building over there, the one with the dying flowers by every window sill, and keep going until you reach the store with no glass in its windows, and take a right, you'll only be a little ways from her shop. As far as I know, she never actually closes, but she only keeps about two candles in the window, so it may seem dark inside."

"Thank you," Arvek said. He turned to head out the door, only to find the man's face disturbingly close. He jumped back, leaning away with his hands up.

The man held up a bolt of admittedly beautiful cloth. "Are you sure you don't want to peruse our wares first?" he asked, his grin now back in full force.

Keeping his eyes on the man, Arvek slowly backed to the door. "I am quite sure." He reached for the door handle and let himself out with his back to the street, not wanting to give the man another chance to surprise him. When the man made no further move towards him, he gratefully closed the door and turned around to head off in the direction the woman sent him.

In the darkness, he was concerned that her instructions would be hard to follow, but he found the dim light from the buildings around were enough to show him his path. In only a quarter of an hour, he stood before a weathered door with two windows on either side, a single candle in each. The cracked sign above partially declared "Cauldron," but the rest of the name was too worn to be read in the night.

He entered and was immediately greeted with a mixture of smells that made him choke. Holding up his shirt over his nose, he peered around the room through watering eyes. The walls were lined with shelves full of all kinds of ingredients. There were shelves of fresh, green plants hanging off the sides to dried and withered plants. Other shelves had vials of liquids, twigs, eyes, and unidentifiable objects. Underneath the shelves of ingredients were cauldrons, some boiling, some undisturbed, vapors visibly pouring out of others. By the cauldrons were ladles and varying sizes of bottles. Still further in were objects of fascination- small glass orbs on chains with swirling mists inside, hair ornaments changing colors, charms that glittered. Scattered among these objects were things that were more mundane, such as stacks of paper. Standing by one of the cauldrons close to these objects was Cor, a woman so short and bent that she barely came up to his hip beside him and gesturing animatedly at the cauldron.

When the door clicked shut behind him, both Cor and the woman turned to see who had entered. With the woman's face on full display, Arvek saw that -true to her name- she had an empty socket where her left eye should have been.

"Arvek!" Cor called out brightly. "I do not believe I have been in a place any more intriguing than this one." He reached over to the counter of objects of fascination and held up a ring. "It is a compass, but it points south!"

All too aware of the woman's presence, Arvek bit back all of the chastisements he wanted to give Cor and instead asked in a low tone, "What is the point of that? If an actual compass points north, then certainly you would know where south lies."

"Novelty, dear," the old woman said with raspy amusement. "Some people may want variety."

He gave her a critical look.

She ignored the look and said, "Perhaps there is else here that might intrigue you? I can see you prefer practicality. While my trinkets will serve no use to you, I am certain you may find one of these potions valuable."

As she hobbled her way to presumably show off one of her potions, Arvek said just as firmly as he did with the man from the other shop, "I am not here to make any purchases. I was only looking for my brother."

"Yes, this brother is here, but I am afraid I have not seen the other brother," she said.

Arvek flashed Cor a look.

"Well, I figured since I was here, I'd ask," Cor said in response to the look.

"This potion here will help you remain alert," One-eye said, dipping a ladle into one cauldron and holding it up so she could pour the liquid back in. "Especially if you ride long days, it will keep you focused and keen. Useful in your journey, no?"

"Until it never lets me sleep," Arvek objected.

"Oh, no, dear," the woman said, chuckling, making a keeeeeeeee noise as she did so. "Potions don't last longer than thirty hours, at most. Some last only a matter of hours. You would be able to sleep once it wore off, provided you didn't take another."

He gave her a suspicious look.

Still smiling, she said, "There are some that can be sealed, but you can't do it by continuously drinking them. But rest assured, I make no such potions here."

"I still don't trust it."

She shrugged and dropped the ladle back into the cauldron. She hobbled back over to Cor, giving him a knowing expression and said, "You understand me, though, right?"

"Oh yes," Cor said emphatically with a laugh, as though they were sharing a joke Arvek missed. "But that does mean that beauty potion is not as attractive." He jabbed a finger over to a cauldron pouring vapors.

"Man like you doesn't need it," One-eye said. "And you know I don't say that to all my customers. Are you taking the compass ring, though?"

Arvek cleared his throat, annoyed.

Cor glanced at Arvek, then back to the ring, hesitating.

"Don't mind the naysayers," One-eye said, speaking to him very familiarly. "Who's he to say that you can't have it?"

"We have other matters to get to," Arvek said. "And it is not worth any of your coins."

"I suppose you could keep your coins, not have a ring that points south, and have to deal with your brother's attitude," the woman said with a note of lightheartedness, "but if I were you, I'd prefer to have the ring and lighter pocket, as then I'd have something to look as I tuned him out. I admit, I'm biased, though."

Arvek glared at her. The absolute audacity of this woman! Who did she think she was, defying him like this? Just so Cor could buy a worthless trinket?

"You make a fair point," Cor conceded. He reached into his pocket and, to Arvek's horror, pulled out some of his coins and handed it over to the woman.

The woman thanked him and tucked the coins away. "Now dear, it'll last a while, but there may come a point when you'll just see it swirling around and looking like one of those pendants over there" -she gestured to the glass orbs with the swirling mists- "and if that happens, just shake it a bit, and it should correct itself."

"So how is this equal to a compass?" Arvek interjected hotly, even more annoyed. Not only did Cor buy a useless ring, but he bought one that the woman herself acknowledged would stop working soon.

One-eye wasn't even bothered by his tone. Grinning, she said, "Well, when you're not out adventuring, you can wear it and look fancy, can't you? Can't do that with a regular compass. Not if you want to look proper."

Arvek didn't really have an answer for that. It didn't negate the fact that the ring was still a useless trinket, though. "Come on," he told Cor. "We should be heading back." Not wanting to stay a moment longer in the shop with this woman, he stepped outside. Cor gave her a wave goodbye and followed.

Arvek remained silent the whole way back to the inn; a feat, considering it took several attempts and lights were starting to go out. When they finally reached the inn and had returned to their room, Arvek took his chance to reprimand Cor.

"Why did you go off by yourself like that?" he demanded. "Do you know how long I spent looking for you? Anything could have happened!"

Cor blinked in surprise, as though he had no idea that this was coming. "I didn't want to wake you," he answered simply. "You seemed really tired."

"We are not in a trustworthy place," Arvek reminded him. "We're not back in our home city where help is just around the corner for us. And that's precisely why I gave us fake names to use, not our real names!"

Thankfully, Cor did look apologetic about this blunder. "I forgot myself there," he said, looking down at his feet. "But in my defense, she seemed quite trustworthy."

Lip curling in disgust, Arvek said, "That's what we thought about Lia."

Cor said nothing in response, only continued to look at the ground. Arvek bit his lip, still angry, but wondering if perhaps he had gone too far and if the situation should have been handled better.

Well, he couldn't fix it now. "Better get some sleep. Kendra will undoubtedly run us ragged tomorrow."

#between the veil and crown #arvek #rough draft

3 notes · View notes

cavalierious-whim · 2 years

Text

Childe spends a day on the beach with those who've become his friends. Written for Raging Tide, A Tartagalia Zine.

Read here on AO3 for better quality!

When Childe first proposed the idea of a fun day in the midsummer Liyue sun, he had the beach in mind. Swim trunks, beach balls, and those delightful little ice pops that Xiangling occasionally makes on special days. His gaze narrows as he surveys Zhongli, who’s just arrived at their rendezvous spot.

“Say, Xiansheng… you aren’t planning on wearing that, are you?”

Zhongli presses a hand to his chest and looks down, surveying his usual suit. Childe thinks he looks utterly ridiculous, but at the same time isn’t surprised. Zhongli is the most routine man he’s ever met. “My clothes are perfectly functional,” says Zhongli in that quiet, understated, and prim way of his.

“If you were going to a funeral, yeah.”

Zhongli’s brow furrows. “I just came from a—”

“Working? On a day like this?” asks Xiangling, standing near Childe’s elbow. She’s dressed appropriately, of course, bedecked in a swimsuit as yellow as summer itself. She reaches into the portable icebox that’s slung around her shoulder and pulls out an ice pop, handing it to Childe without a word.

“I knew that I loved you,” says Childe, already savoring the sweet delight.

“Get in line,” says Xiangling with a mischievous smile. “That’s what everyone says.”

Childe laughs, nudging her shoulder with his elbow. His face falls slightly as he sees Ganyu step forward, wearing her own beachy number, and a cute sun hat to boot. He frowns.

Xiangling winces, leans closer, and says in a stage whisper: “Do you think that she’s here—”

“To babysit me? Definitely.”

“Come now, don’t be silly.” Ganyu smiles placidly as she readjusts her hat. “I was merely encouraged to bring my work to the beach.”

Childe levels here with a very pointed stare. “Yeah, like I said—to babysit me.”

Ganyu has this kind of serene smile that isn’t really nice—it’s more like she’s making fun of you silently. Childe itches a little under her gaze as she pulls out a towel from her bag and looks for the best place to lay it out.

“There are worse options,” says Xiangling in a loud hiss, “You know—like Keqing?”

Childe huffs. “She’d be too busy to pay me any mind. Ganyu though…”

“Ganyu will be a pleasant addition to the afternoon, I think,” says Zhongli. Childe regards him once again, his eyes lingering where Zhongli’s arms are clasped firmly behind his back. Always so proper.

“Relax a little, yeah?”

Zhongli frowns again, a little wrinkle forming on his brow. He looks at his suit like he’s genuinely confused and Childe sighs. Better luck next time, he supposes.

Others arrive slowly. Paimon and Lumine, even Xingqiu and Chongyun—they’d all promised him, of course, but Childe isn’t holding his breath.

The life of a Harbinger is strangely lonely at times. He can’t trust anyone—he can’t. One wrong move and there’s a new dude with his title. Childe is always watching his back because even his coworkers he can’t trust, which has led to a perfected, cocky attitude.

The more people are annoyed by you, the easier it is to keep tabs on them and all that. They come to him, which makes his work all the easier.

That being said—Childe is tired and his stationing here within Liyue has shown him that.

“What are you thinking about?” asks Xiangling, nudging him with her shoulder. Everyone else has picked a spot to settle into, towels and bags and shoes dotting the beach.

“Nothing much, really.” Childe shrugs. “Just been a while since I’ve had a day off, you know?”

Xiangling’s face crinkles in amusement. “Have you ever had a day off?”

Childe doesn’t think so but it’s never been something that he’s thought much about.

Until now.

Childe falls asleep and wakes up feeling like he’s on fire.

So, maybe dumb, laying out on his stomach under the sun. But it was warm, and it smells of the ocean, and the sounds of everyone around him lulled him right under, and well—

He’s paying for it now, isn’t he?

“No, no—” Then he hisses.

“Oh shush,” says Ganyu, smoothing her hand over his red shoulders. “You did this to yourself.”

“It was an accident.”

“Accidents can still have faults. You’re very lucky that I brought this coconut yogurt along, otherwise you’d be worse off.”

“Worse,” grumbles Childe under his breath. “Stings like a—”

Ganyu digs the palm of her hand just a little too harshly into his burned skin and Childe yelps dramatically. Xiangling looks at him, face crinkled with mild amusement. Zhongli regards him like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. Paimon screams something about how he looks like a boiled lobster because, of course, she’d compare him to food.

None of it helps Childe forget about his blistered skin.

Ganyu seems to take pity on him though, and her hands lighten up as she cools the yogurt with her Cryo and slathers it across his back. And Chile has to hand it to her—it’s a soothing mixture that works well. The whine that rises from the back of his throat sounds pathetic.

She leans over his shoulder with that too-sweet smile that means anything but. “Have we learned our lesson?”

Childe looks at her, sheepish. “Yeah. Wear the damn sunscreen.”

Ganyu laughs kindly and Childe thinks perhaps she doesn’t mind her job for the day.

Ice fishing is simple and lacks finesse. Find a frozen lake with a thick enough layer that is safe enough to walk out on. Cut a hole in the water and drop a line in, then you wait forever while you drink vodka and swap stories with family and friends.

Childe thought that deep-sea fishing wouldn’t be much different. Childe is woefully wrong.

The boat lurches underneath his feet, bobbing with the ocean tide. Childe’s feet slip across the wooden planks as he clings to the edge because what kind of boat doesn’t have a proper railing? Boats in the traditional Liyue style, apparently.

“Oh,” he murmurs, “Oh—” And then he vomits right over the side.

“Surely you came to Liyue on a boat.”

Childe wipes at his mouth and looks to the side. Xingqiu sits there quietly on a beach chair, slathered in a pasty sheen of sunscreen. He doesn’t bother with looking away from his book, licking his thumb to turn a page.

“Yes,” says Childe, “and that was just as miserable an experience as this.” His gaze slides to Zhongli who stands perfectly still at the bow. “I’m surprised he has sealegs, though.”

“I have a distaste for seafood, Childe, not the ocean.” A pause, and then, “Though I don’t particularly like being away from land for very long.”

Well, that clears up absolutely nothing.

Once they anchor the ship, it still rolls with the waves. Childe manages to find his grounding, albeit on wobbly legs. “Alright, then. Who’s fishing with me?”

Xiangling is the only enthusiastic taker, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, barely containing herself.

Childe’s gaze sweeps the deck as he frowns slightly. “What, no other takers?”

Zhongli’s mouth is pursed with distaste—they might’ve gotten him to leave land, which was a feat in itself, but Childe knows he draws the line at handling fish. A pity. Childe thinks that it’d be hilarious to see Zhongli try. He’s articulate with his words but not so much with his actions. Childe imagines it would be endless entertainment.

“Hey, kid.”

Xingqiu looks up from his book, eyes narrowed as though annoyed by the interruption. Childe waits expectantly. “You can’t be serious,” says Xingqiu with a sigh. “I came out here to enjoy this new publication, I won’t—”

Xiangling pulls the book from his fingertips, snaps it shut, and tosses it right into the ocean. Childe gapes. Xingqiu gapes. Zhongli hides a well-placed snicker behind his gloved hand.

And Xiangling just bounces on her feet as she smiles at him sweetly.

“That was—”

“Was it a first edition?” asks Xiangling brightly.

Xingqiu looks aggrieved, his face turning an impressive shade of pink. “No,” he hisses, “I suppose not.”

“Then no harm, no foul.” Then Xiangling smiles, her lips curled into a mischievous grin. “Or should I say, fowl—”

“Okay, okay, enough with the puns,” says Childe, rooting through rods and lines before finding a set that suits her well enough. “I trust you know how to fish?”

“Of course,” she says with a huff. Then, Xiangling nudges him. “Question is, do you?”

Childe snorts. “Of course. I grew up on the ice, you know. Practically raised in the tundra waters. Ever seen permafrost? I breathed it.”

Xiangling’s brow rises and she whistles. “Impressive,” she says kindly. Childe can tell that she isn’t remotely dazzled.

“The boat,” says Xingqiu, unhelpfully. He’s still lounging about in the beach chair, making no effort to move. “You need to learn how to stand on it first.”

“I am standing on it!” Childe gestures to himself as if to prove the point. Then the boat swoons and Childe trips, barely catching himself. Xingqiu just raises an eyebrow. “Right, look—not the point. I’m a master at fishing, just you wait.”

Childe then holds out a rod to Xingqiu, who only regards him with a once-over, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh, I’m not fishing. I want to watch you make an absolute idiot of yourself.”

“Oh, you little—”

“Hey.”

Everyone on the boat stops and looks. Lumine stands there clad in a white and blue striped swimsuit, Paimon floating beside her face. The one person who strikes fear into Childe’s heart, and no, it isn’t because she kicks his ass at the Golden House every single Monday. It’s because—

“Childe,” says Lumine shortly.

That tone. Childe winces like a boy who’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Lumine mothers him more than his actual mother does, and that’s saying something. “Ah, Lumine—”

She holds out her hand, waiting for the rod. Childe slaps one into her hand without a word.

“Is there a Paimon-sized one?” Paimon looks at him so innocently, with those round, sort-of bugged eyes.

“I think I have a kid’s rod somewhere,” murmurs Childe, rifling through his things again.

Eventually, everyone is settled in with fishing rods and line. Xiangling stands, her line cast and legs allowing for the push and pull of the tide like she was born on the damn sea. Childe can’t help the subtle jealousy that rises in his throat. He he sits down, legs hanging over the side.

Lumine joins him.

“It’s not about fishing, is it?”

“You, always coming at me with complicated questions.”

Lumine looks amused. “Complicated? I could fight you instead. Topple this boat right over.”

“No, no, you’ve already beaten me up once this week. That’s plenty.”

Lumine chuckles and bumps their shoulders together. They both have their lines cast, but they aren’t paying much attention. Childe can feel the way that Xingqiu’s gaze bores into the back of his head, willing something to happen.

“It’s nice,” says Lumine. “Inviting everyone out to fish.”

“Well, I didn’t. I asked Zhongli for the best spots because we all know he’s as old as dirt—like, literal dirt. And then Xiangling overheard so she invited herself along, and then—”

“No doubt our beloved former Archon shared the news with everyone else.”

Childe rubs at his neck sheepishly. “I mean, it’s fine. I was going to come out here alone, but it…”

“It’s nice. The company.” Lumine says it quietly.

Childe often forgets that they’re both outlanders in the beautiful land that is Liyue. Lumine, though, is always traveling as she moves on and on. Childe was once like that—he stepped into Liyue with only the intent to do his job and get out, but—

Well, funny how things change.

The more time that passes, the more that Childe wants to stay. Liyue feels more like home to him than Snezhnaya ever did and he was raised there.

Lumine nudges him again. “What are you thinking?”

Childe is quiet for a long moment. “That’s exactly it—that’s what I wanted to come out here and do. I wanted to think.”

Lumine hums. “Thinking is annoying. Just enjoy the chaos. Isn’t that the sort of thing you like, anyway?”

Chaos, thinks Childe. He used to dream of it, relish it, even, when it came to battle. Xiangling lets out a shout, pulling her fishing rod back. The line goes entirely taut as she fights with the weight on the other end of it. The line sinks deep into the water, pulling stock straight.

“Oh, it feels like a big one!” she says excitedly, her eyes round and wide like dinner plates. In her excitement, she smacks Childe with her arm and he loses his balance, tipping right into the ocean.

There’s panic—Xiangling panics about losing her fish; Lumine panics about Childe tumbling into the water; and Xingqiu panics about Lumine potentially falling right in after him as she leans over, trying to yank Childe back up.

It’s a simple matter of commanding Hydro and Childe is back on the deck, entirely drenched, but no worse for wear.

What a boat they make. A young, budding author. Xingqiu bursts into laughter at the dredged sight of him. A world-renowned chef. Xiangling yelps in praise, showing off her fresh catch—a sea bass that’s nearly half the size of her. An outlander who’s further from home than he’ll ever be. Lumine throws a towel over his head and Paimon cackles in amusement. And a former Archon. Zhongli is still perched near the bow, his face weathered by amusement.

Chaos indeed.

Childe loves it.

The sun is slipping past the horizon and a bonfire has been lit on the beach.

Xiangling flits around the cookfire, roasting fish and working her magic when it comes to food. Ganyu stands by, watching with a sweet smile. Xingqiu rests on a towel, a new book in hand. Lumine sets about readying eating utensils and Paimon shrieks about delicious eats.

Childe sits on the beach, watching the water. He’s sunburnt—pink and peeling. He’s barefoot, his toes dug into the sand. He can feel the salt clinging to his hair, curling it. All in a day’s work, he thinks, though his days used to be full of different sorts of endeavors.

“Childe,” says Zhongli as he settles next to him. He’s still dressed to the nines in his stuffy, prim suit, but he’s pulled off his shoes at least. He digs his toes into the sand too, resting his arms over his knees. “So rarely do I see you so… quiet.”

“Thinking,” he says, looking at Zhongli with a wily smirk. “I’m known to do that on occasion.”

Zhongli watches him back with that ageless stare of his. “You think more often than not, I would say.”

No matter how often they talk or share meals, Zhongli never ceases to surprise him. Perhaps it's because Zhongli’s had eons to watch mortals, but Childe thinks that he understands them more than he lets on. Experiencing it personally, however, is wholly different.

“What is the adage? A Mora for your thoughts?”

Childe laughs at that. “Isn’t there a Mora shortage?”

Zhongli hums, thumbing at his chin. “I suppose I haven’t thought much of it.”

Because of course, he wouldn’t; Childe still plays bank to Zhongli’s spending habits, not that he’s complaining. Childe takes care of his friends, and so, he happily foots the bill. Before being stationed in Liyue, his accounts sat untouched for the most part, only accruing interest. It was a pity to let his earnings go to waste.

“It’s strange, you know,” says Childe, “how much I’ve come to love it here. When I think of my days, I think of the people that I spend them with, not the job that I do. And when I think of home, it isn’t snow-covered peaks, it’s Wanmin restaurant and the meals I spend with you and Lumine. Maybe I’ve become soft, but—”

“No.” Zhongli’s voice is quiet but firm. “Childe, you are allowed to enjoy yourself.”

Childe starts at that. It’s something he’s never really thought about. Childe is a Harbinger, one of the Tsaritsa’s hands. He was gifted a title and has effortlessly executed what’s been asked of him, time and time again.

Except here, in Liyue, he sleeps in on his days off. He forgoes hunting targets down and bloodying his sword. He enjoys tea, practices using chopsticks, and most importantly, feels welcomed and wanted.

The warmth of his found family here is different from the stark, winter cold of Snezhnaya.

“I was wondering why you’ve been hesitating,” says Zhongli. “Going back. Surely she’s asked for you to.”

The Tsaritsa has. Childe’s desk is littered with letters requesting his arrival back home at the Palace, but it hasn’t escalated to true order. Yet. It’s only a matter of time.

Childe sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “Lumine told me to stop thinking about it. To just enjoy the chaos.”

“Sound advice,” says Zhongli.

“I’m not dumb enough to think I can stay here forever.” Childe’s voice is quiet and for the first time, he realizes just truly how much he’d like that. To stay here, in Liyue. Surrounded by friends and the warmth of the sun, and the salty sea breeze.

Childe has been more at ease here than anywhere else in his entire life.

“I decided to retire because I wanted to live for myself.” It’s the first time that Zhongli has ever expressed such a thing so outright. When Childe looks at him, Zhongli seems pensive. “And perhaps I didn’t know what that meant, and it’s likely that I still don’t—but it’s ever-changing as I learn more and more with every day. My goals, I mean. The things that I want. The one thing I have learned, though, is that it’s natural for our wants and desires to change over time.”

Zhongli looks at Childe, his eyes soft as they glow amber. “Loyalties come and go, and they shift. That isn’t a bad thing. You deserve to be selfish.”

Childe chuckles. “So, sit here and enjoy it for as long as I can, yeah?”

“Or choose to stay and retire as well. I will enjoy our friendship nonetheless.”

Childe hesitates, thinking about the idea of it longer than he should. Retirement. Such a thing doesn’t exist for Harbingers but it’s a nice fantasy to entertain. “You know, Xiansheng, you’re probably my best friend. I’ve never had one before.”

“Oh?”

Childe smiles, nudging Zhongli’s shoulder. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Certainly not.”

Their conversation comes to a close when Xiangling careens over the sand, nearly tripping over her own feet. She heaves heavy breaths, her hands resting on her knees, and then— “Oi! Dinner!” She reaches out and tugs Childe to his feet.

“Okay, okay—”

“Come on, come on!”

Childe does. He follows Xiangling, close on her heels. The bonfire crackles brightly, hot with its brilliant fire. Everyone settles around as they load up their plates with delicious food. There is laughter, warmth, and kind words. Slaps on shoulders and tight hugs to the side.

Everyone seems so happy to just be there, having enjoyed the day spent on the beach.

Childe’s heart crackles, white-hot with a kind of affection he never knew he was capable of. These people—these friends—bring him more satisfaction than the thrill of the hunt ever will. They warm his chest more than the pull of his Delusion.

“Hey, eat up!” Xiangling thrusts a plate into his hand, piled high with fish and all the trimmings. Then, she plops into the sand right next to him, tucking into her own portion, eyes bright and her smile wide.

You deserve to be selfish, said Zhongli not five minutes prior.

Childe thinks that perhaps he’s right.

#Genshin Impact #Genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact fanfic #childe #tartaglia #zhongli #xingqiu #xiangling #ganyu #friendship fluff

4 notes · View notes

nicsnort · 18 hours

Text

Trial by Fire (part 36)

A Nightcrawler/Fem!OC romance, drama, and mystery fanfic, with lots of Quicksilver thrown in for fun and even more drama.

Intro (with link to full Ao3 story) First Previous

Kurt was mindful of his presence. He kept close to the roof to minimize the risk of being seen. Not that he intended to stay there for hours at a time like a gargoyle, but a few minutes would be plenty just to have anyone who saw him think they had lost their mind for a second. In any case, he wanted to observe the journalist -- he often had, since the fight in Genosha, lamented not being anywhere near her when he had the chance. Had he known…

His eyes narrowed as he watched her, trying to focus on something. There was color on her wrist, both wrists, that looked odd. Kurt’s heart fell when he realized what he was seeing. Bruises? But it made no sense. Why would they have kept her chained up? Why would they do that and allow her to return to...here? To let her message him? Did she know he was an X-man? No, that went without saying. But did they? She said something, but he wasn’t close enough to hear. Kurt had to quickly duck when she turned. None of this made sense.

It was only when she went inside that he teleported back to Logan. For a second, he wondered if he should have grabbed Bedelia and teleported away -- but since she hadn’t seen him in his true form, he didn’t think she would take well to that. He relayed the information to Logan who only grunted. “Stockholm syndrome is a thing.” He pointed out.

Kurt made a face. “Nein! I refuse to believe that! Not in this.”

“How else do you explain what you say?”

“I...am not sure. Maybe Frost did something to her.” It wasn’t as though he could ask her. Even if he had his inducer and could change to his disguise, it would be alarming to her for him to show up on her doorstep...and it would set off Quicksilver. The best bet would be the cafe. “I need to get to the cafe in case she shows.”

“Just go easy on the coffee, elf.” With that, they teleported away.

Quicksilver had returned just at that second, looking around as he stopped at the front door. Had he heard something? He looked around with sharper eyes. No...no, he didn’t see anything of alarm. He walked inside and locked the door behind him, spotting Bedelia with the laundry basket.

“So, what are you working on next?” Work was a safe topic. The articles were a safe topic. The growing suspicions and guilt that mixed uncomfortably in his gut were not.

“Well, I have a couple of options. We can’t flood the market with stories about the Brotherhood. But I’ve started grouping those interviews with the refugees together. I can start writing about why they went to Genosha. Once a few weeks have passed, follow-up interviews would be good. For the piece on the Brotherhood. How you have helped the refugees to resettle…”

As she spoke, she started folding the clothes for the sake of doing something with her hands. “But, I also need to do some research…” she thought about the USB sitting in her laptop. “In a few of my photos, I saw some Essex Corp. boxes had labels from New York. I know it isn’t precisely Brotherhood related, but if I can go to the archives, I might be able to find something now that I know they are here and related to Genosha.”

The archives were near the cafe bookstore where she wanted to meet with Kurt. If Pietro could give his permission for her to go there, perhaps she could also convince him to let her swing by the cafe. He had seen the texts between Kurt and her. Even if she was going to let Kurt go, he deserved a proper send-off and apology. She wasn’t going to ghost him purposely this time.

“Mm, yeah, your archenemy.” He remarked, recalling the previous conversations. “If it leads to more press about Genosha, have at it. Could be nothing, though.” He pointed out, a reminder lest her hopes get too high just like he had reminded her and shot down her hopes about that German guy.

Yes, it could be nothing. There could be nothing in the archives or city records. She had never found anything there before. But it was the best she got. It wasn’t like Pietro was going to let her fly off to London or any of the other cities to search through the archives there. And it wasn’t like he would let her spy around the docks to find more Essex boxes. No, the piles of information on the USB and the city archives had to be enough. Bedelia just needed to shift through it all.

Pietro walked around the living room, glancing out the windows. Nothing was off, nothing evident at least. Still, he had sworn he heard something when he returned to the front door. “Listen,” he said with a hint of distraction, “I’m thinking of getting Scarlet Witch...or…” he paused, thinking of the remaining Brotherhood members he trusted. Azazel would be insulted to have another babysitting job, particularly at Quicksilver’s request, though he was good. Blob and Toad were lost causes. Avalanche was an ego wound refusing to scab over, and that spelled disaster. Mystique had just returned to the bunker, and no doubt was needed elsewhere. Trance was too new a member, and Frost would laugh. Riptide? “Or someone to take my place for a few days.” He finished lamely.

As Pietro moved around the living room, Bedelia watched him closely. He was on edge. His following words were distracted and distant...she could tell that he thought something was off. “Of course,” she told him. “Far be it from me to say no. So long as it isn’t...well, you know. I’m sure you must be sick of playing sitter to the Brotherhood’s pet journalist.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw someone moving outside the window. It could have been a bird or anything…

There was a sudden knock on the door. Bedelia jumped just a bit and looked at Pietro. Another knock. She moved to the door and peeked outside. “It’s just a girl scout,” she told him, a bit of relief in her voice. “Looks like she’s selling something.”

She opened the front door leaving the screen door in place. “Hi there, can I help you?”

“Good ma’am,” the young middle-school-aged girl said in a practiced voice. “I am from troop 2432 here in New York; we are trying to raise money for our troop to help supply homeless students with school supplies. We are doing this by selling cookie dough! Would you be interested in buying some for this worthy cause?”

“Cookie dough,” Bedelia said with a big smile. “I love cookie dough. Let’s take a look.” Pulling down the screen, she was given the booklet with her potential purchases. She saw the girl eye the bruises on her arm, but the girl didn’t say anything though Bedelia did see a concerned expression. It turned into one of even more worry as Pietro appeared behind Bedelia. Looking back at him, she saw him wearing a hat to cover his distinguishable hair and eyeing the booklet.

“Oh, don’t worry about him,” she told the girl. “Pietro, back up; you’re scaring the poor girl.” She shooed him back just a bit and handed him the booklet to look through. The girl didn’t seem wholly convinced but still gave a smile.

“I’m fine,” the girl quickly said, “sorry. We were just doing classes on bad relationships. Not that I…” Red entered the young girl’s face. “Sorry.”

Bedelia laughed, “it's okay, they’re from work...now then, cookie dough. Pietro, what do you want from it?”

“Don’t think the girl needs an explanation.” He remarked, thinking more that the unasked story would only raise more flags than settle them. He said it in a neutral tone, but Pietro didn’t like the uncomfortable sensation of being...of waiting. Of being off-guard. Not again, not so soon.

He glanced at the booklet. “Anything with nuts.” He finally decided. “Just not oatmeal raisin.” He was a man who ate nearly anything and had his preferences, but in his experienced opinion, raisins didn’t belong in cookies. Pietro looked out over the girl but, again, saw nothing. So why was he uneasy?

Pietro thought for a moment before stepping away from the door. Once he was out of sight, he ran out the backdoor to a chain store a couple of blocks away. He lifted a good fifty bucks from a customer waiting in line after he knocked the wallet from his hand -- slowpoke. When he returned to Bedelia’s home, he walked out from behind the door once more. “Here.” He handed the fifty over to the girl, a gleam in his eye. He knew Bedelia would guess where the money came from -- in other words, not his own wallet -- but that made it all the funnier to give it to a girl scout. A real Robin Hood, he thought.

Bedelia took the order form from the girl and began filling it out. Name, address, phone number. The cookie dough came in tubs, each two batches of cookies. She ordered 1 peanut butter, 2 chocolate chip, 2 sugar, 1 macadamia, and 1 snickerdoodle. Nearly the whole array of cookies types they had for sale. The total was 96.77 after tax. Bedelia donated 3.23 to the girl scouts directly to round it up to an even 100.

As Bedelia pulled money from her purse, her eyes found their way across the street. A man was standing between two of the houses. He was short but muscular and seemed to be watching across the street...watching her house. Bedelia narrowed her eyes just a bit. He looked like...no. It couldn’t be…unconsciously, her hand went to her throat, rubbing it. If that really was who she thought it was, Magneto would surely kill her if she tried anything.

Pietro reappeared and handed over some cash. Bedelia broke from her inner thoughts to cover the rest. Looking back across the street, Bedelia couldn’t see the man anymore.

“Thanks so much!” The girl scout said with a big grin. “The order should arrive in about two to three weeks!”

“Of course,” Bedelia told her with a big smile. “Good luck, and have a nice day.”

Pulling the screen back up, she shut the front door. “Well, that was a nice surprise. The cookie dough the girl scouts sell is just as good as their cookies...I’m going to go work.”

Bedelia moved past him, heading back to her office. Sitting in her chair, she rubbed her face.

Being watched by Pietro and the Brotherhood. Possibly being watched by Wolverine and the X-men. And most likely being watched by the FBI - the Girl Scouts in this area were not troop 4232. Bedelia had been a girl scout and bought cookies each year; she knew the troop. If it was the FBI at play, then the government now knew the Brotherhood was holding her - hopefully, it would get them off her back for a while.

Though it raised the question of whether she should tell Pietro or not, no better to feign ignorance for now. She couldn’t be sure, and she had just been let out of the bunker—no reason to give them a reason to put her back there. Besides, as this morning proved, all thoughts of escape had left her. She was the Brotherhood’s journalist.

___

Fanfic Masterlist

#fanfic #fanfiction #long reads #xmen #kurt wagner #nightcrawler #gravita anima #pietro maximoff #Trial by Fire

1 note · View note

the-shadowsingers-whore · 7 months

Text

a court of wards and shadow

chapter nine

series overview

summary: aelis and azriel's mission starts off on the wrong foot which leads to some unexpected confessions

length: 6.2k

warnings: (18+ mdni) angst, violence, descriptions of injuries, attempted assault, azriel's being moody again, kissing, no actual smut but azriel and aelis are starting to get horny for each other

disclaimer: this fic in no way represents any of sarah j. maas' work or ideas, it is for purely fictional/personal entertainment purposes

masterlist /// next chapter >>

the next morning i rise to find my leathers laid out across the top of a pack. i slip them on before sifting through the bag to find a change of clothes, some rations, and a few other things i’ll need for our several day mission. several days. with azriel. alone. i can’t help the little thrill that courses through me at the thought but quickly rein it in when i remember the way he wouldn’t look at me yesterday.

i don’t know what shifted between us the other afternoon when i cried during our conversation, but a sinking feeling settles in my gut as i recall the way he’d been avoiding me. is that how he’s going to be for the next few days? the bit of excitement that filled me moments ago morphs into one of dread.

i try my best to shake it off as i lace up my boots and strap the sheath for my sword down my spine. by the time i secure the dagger that was also left for me to my thigh i have built a thick wall around my emotions, determined to not let them affect me. the mission is what’s important right now, not whatever seems to be going on with azriel.

i make my way to the training ring where i find azriel waiting with a pack similar to my own and adorned with his own selection of deadly weapons. he tilts his head slightly in greeting and simply asks “ready?” as he extends his hand to me. i take his hold, his rough callouses scraping lightly over my palm and offer him an affirmative nod. his shadows wrap around me in a gentle caress and a blink later i find myself standing in a forest i assume to be just outside the reaches of the day court palace’s wards.

dropping my hand without a word, azriel strides off, leaving me with no other option but to follow.

* * *

the day passes on in pained silence, the only words spoken between us being questions about directions and reminders to drink water.

sometime around midday it starts to rain and despite the leathers keeping me somewhat dry, i feel as though the chill in the air has settled in my bones. or maybe it’s coming from this awkward distance that has developed between azriel and i.

by late afternoon, i can’t take it anymore, the silence suffocating me further with every passing breath. i stop in the middle of the narrow trail we stumbled across and shout in order to be heard over the pounding rain. “i’m sorry!!”

azriel freezes in his steps before whirling around to face me, eyes wide with alarm. after a quick scan of the surroundings reveals nothing, his expression shifts into one of confusion.

i continue as i walk towards him, my voice lowering as i draw closer. “i’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, especially right before our mission.”

“what--”

“i’m sorry, i really am. i just thought….well it’s just that…..i thought we were friends, azriel.” i finally manage to blurt out. “and i’m sorry for making assumptions and for crying, but please don’t ignore me any longer. i can’t handle three more days of silence, i’ll go mad. it doesn’t even matter what we talk about, it can be about rocks for all i care, as long as you talk to me. please.”

“aelis, i--”

“i just don’t get it,” i cut in, not allowing him a chance to speak. i know i should stop before i make everything worse than it already is, but between the freezing rain and the crushing silence i have suffered through all day, i’m just too weary and worn down to care right now. “when we talked the other day you were so encouraging….so caring. but then it was like…..it was like you just shut it off. one minute i thought we were friends, i thought we might have even--” i cut myself off before i say something i will truly regret. “but then you just, stopped. and you’ve barely looked at or spoken to me since. why azriel? why?” my voice cracks on the last word and i have to fight to keep the tears at bay.

he opens his mouth to respond, but then catches himself. my frustration and devastation transforms into anger at his lack of a response and i close the remaining distance between us, shoving his chest as hard as i can. “why? tell me why az?!” i practically scream at him, the rain washing away the tears that are now flowing down my cheeks.

i go to shove him again, but he catches my wrist, holding my hands tightly to his chest. “because i care for you.” he murmurs.

“what?” i say, my brain not able to truly process what he just said.

“i care for you aelis. i care for you so damned much that i have been plagued with worry since you insisted we do this mission. i know you are strong. i know you are capable. i know that you need to do this for yourself. and i would never get in the way of that. in fact, i am so fucking proud of how far you have come.”

i choke on the sob that fills my throat, trying my best to remain quiet during his confession. whether he notices or simply feels compelled to, azriel strokes his thumb along the line of my wrist in a comforting gesture.

“but that doesn’t mean i have not spent every hour since absolutely plagued with worry. i have stayed up each night thinking of every possible thing that could go wrong, every possible way you could be hurt. and all for a mission that might not even be successful. i pleaded with rhys, begged him to find another way, but there isn’t one. so instead, i have to just be okay with subjecting you to countless dangerous situations on the off chance that you will be able to retrieve that damned book. and i can’t stand it. i haven’t felt like this, thought like this, acted like this since…..aelis, i feel as though i’m going mad.” i can feel his heart pounding beneath my hand that is pinned to his chest, but he continues on.

“you were right when you said i turned it off. because i had to. i can’t think straight around you. and i can’t jeopardize this mission, i can’t jeopardize you because i can’t get my feelings in check. so i’m sorry that i’ve been distant, that i shut you out. it’s been killing me to not be able to talk with you. but if that’s what it takes to keep you safe, then i will remain silent until the flames claim me once again.”

i don’t respond, words failing me as i simply stare at him. his hair is slicked to his forehead from the rain and his eyes are filled with raw, unbridled emotion as he holds my gaze. finally, after an eternity that lasts only a moment, i find my voice.

“az.” his hold has loosened on my hands and i slip one free in order to reach up to his face. his skin is warm despite the rain and i can’t help but run my thumb gently across his cheek. his eyes flutter shut at my touch and i repeat the motion, reveling in the feeling of his smooth skin beneath my hand.

“az,” i repeat and his eyes slowly open once more, immediately capturing me with his gaze. “thank you. thank you for protecting me, for always keeping me safe. thank you for allowing me to do this. for pushing me and encouraging me and reminding me that i am capable over and over again until i got to this point. and thank you for caring for me. thank you for caring for me in a way no one ever has.” the tears are flowing freely down my cheeks now, but i make no effort to stop them.

his eyes glisten as he stares at me, whether from the rain or unshed tears, i’ll never know. releasing his hold on my other wrist, he slowly reaches up to cradle my jaw between his hands. “aelis,” he whispers, his voice almost lost amidst the sound of the storm.

and then, before i can even blink, his mouth is on mine. his soft, plush lips press against my own for a moment before they part, inviting me deeper. i lose myself in the feeling of his mouth moving slowly with mine in perfect harmony. his tongue traces the seam of my lips and i breath out a moan at the sensation.

thunder cracks loudly overhead and he pulls away, glancing around quickly before settling his gaze back on me. he rests his forehead against mine, chest heaving. after his breathing has settled he murmurs into the space between us, “i suppose we should try and find somewhere a little more dry.” his lips brush ever so lightly across my forehead and then he takes a step back, my body immediately growing colder at his absence.

i nod in response, my mind spinning too wildly from our kiss to form words. he gestures over his shoulder and we continue on down the trail in search of some sort of shelter from the rain. as we walk, i feel his fingers brush against mine every so often, momentarily chasing away the cold better than any fire could.

* * *

after an hour or so of walking with no signs of any cover, we pause for a few minutes to rest and hydrate. the rain has let up significantly, but my leathers are soaked through by this point. i cannot wait to slip into my spare clothes that have been kept safe and dry inside of the charmed pack i’ve been lugging around all day.

i excuse myself for a moment before we continue on and slip off into the woods to find some privacy to relieve myself. i am just headed back when i hear a noise behind me. spinning around, i find two large males stalking towards me. i turn to run back to where i left azriel only to find two more males boxing me in. i try to scream, but a hand clamps over my mouth before any sound is able to come out.

“well, well, well, look at what we stumbled across here.” a voice hisses in my hear and my skin crawls at the sound. my pack is pulled away and tossed to one of the other fae before the male pulls my back against his chest, his arms wrapping around me in a tight band i cannot escape, no matter how hard i struggle.

“got anything valuable in here?” one of the others sneers before flipping my pack upside down and dumping its content across the wet grass. when his search comes up empty handed he tosses the pack to the side, kicking my belongings into a mud puddle in frustration. “not even a single copper to make it worth our time!”

“well i’m sure she has something that will make this worth our time,” the man behind me murmurs and i fight harder against the vice grip he has on me when i feel his hand start to slither beneath the collar of my leathers. one of the others approaches and begins running his hands down my body, laughing cruelly at my muffled cries. just as his fingertips brush my waistband, he is suddenly thrown backwards by a shadowy force. i am pulled from the male’s hold and before i can ever register what is happening, azriel has already slaughtered all four males and is standing before me panting, his expression one of pure rage.

“are you okay?” he drops his sword in order to grab both my arms, his eyes rapidly scanning my body for any signs of injury. “aelis, are you okay?”

“y…yyy…yes,” i stutter, adrenaline coursing through my veins. “i’m fine.” my voice comes out more steady the second time. i can feel him teetering on the edge of control with the way his hands grip my arms just a little too tightly and the way his eye flit wildly across the landscape behind me, searching for any other attackers.

“hey,” i meet his gaze and muster the most reassuring smile i can manage. “i’m fine now. i promise.”

i watch as his eyes close for a moment and he inhales deeply, his breath stuttering slightly as he lets it out. fear and rage still cloud his stare, but he nods in response before turning to help gather my supplies and put them back into my now soaked pack.

he gives me an assessing look and mutters, “come one, let’s find somewhere for you to rest.” he hesitates for a moment before dipping his head to brush a whisper of a kiss to the top of my head. without another word he hands me my pack before retrieving his own from where he had dropped it to draw his weapons.

* * *

the rain that had settled down to a light mist picks back up into a heavy downfall over the next hour as we trudge through the forest. i am convinced we are going to have to spend a wet night on the freezing forest floor when azriel suddenly picks up his pace.

“follow me this way! my shadows found….” i don’t hear the rest of the words azriel yells over his shoulder at me as the pounding of the pouring rain drowns them out. i simply hug my soaked bag closer and rush after him, hoping that whatever his shadows found has a roof. we quickly reach a break in the dense woods and i spot a little cabin nestled amongst the trees on the other side of the clearing. i nearly cry in relief and pick up my pace, hoping whoever lives there will let us in, even if for just a few minutes of respite from the rain.

as i get closer, i notice the overgrown garden on the side of the house and the way the front door is ajar, hanging crookedly on its hinges. the cabin must be abandoned. azriel reaches the door a few paces before i do and holds up his hand, signaling for me to wait while he checks it out. as much as i don’t want to spend another second in the icy downpour, i also don’t have the energy to fight some cracked out faerie who might have found the broken down house before we did. azriel ducks his head as he walks through the doorway, disappearing into the shadows of the cabin. barely a minute passes before his head pokes back out and he waves me inside.

i sigh in relief as i step inside and no longer feel the beating of the rain on my back. i glance around the small interior, noticing the cabin only consists of two rooms. the one i’m currently in has a stove tucked in the corner, some cupboards, and a single chair next to a space where i imagine a kitchen table would go. next to the fireplace that makes up the other half the space is a small hallway that leads to what i would guess is the bedroom. the lack of furniture and layer of dust covering everything confirms my suspicion that no one lives here. in fact, it looks like no one has lived here for a very long time.

“it’s not much, but it’s out of the rain and clearly forgotten so we won’t have to worry about someone discovering us.” azriel says when i finish scanning the room.

“as long as i don’t have to spend the night out in that deluge i’m happy. tell your shadows thank you for finding this place.” a surprised look crosses his face and he stares at me strangely for a moment before giving me a stiff nod then turning to rifle through the cupboards.

while he searches for anything left behind that might be useful, i stand and stare at the empty fireplace, unsure of what i’m supposed to do. after a few minutes i realize that all that walking had been the only thing keeping me even remotely warm for the last few hours. despite the roof over my head, my leathers are already soaked through and a chill settles deep into my bones from the lack of warmth in this room.

i wrap my arms around myself and try my best not to shiver. despite my efforts, azriel quickly notices my discomfort.

“oh, i’m sorry. you’re absolutely soaked and the temperature is only going to keep dropping. i should have went and looked for something to start a fire with before rummaging through the house. i apologize. i’ll go right now. forgive me.”

he turns towards the door, but i grab his elbow to stop him before he can open it. “wait! please don’t apologize, it’s not your fault that it rained today and it’s certainly not your fault that it’s so cold out. we could have never predicted such a fierce storm so early into the fall season.”

i hear a soft chuckle and my gaze skips across his face, finding a small grin and a slight twinkle in his eyes. “do you really think i view myself so highly that i believe i can control the weather?” a dimple appears on his cheek as his grin widens ever so slightly and i find myself transfixed by it. “i was not apologizing because it rained, i was apologizing because you must obviously be freezing and it was thoughtless of me to not consider how to remedy that first.”

“also…” he pauses, his expression transforming into something much more serious while his eyes search my face. “nevermind,” he says after a moment, pulling his gaze from mine. “i’m going to go try and find something remotely dry to start a fire with. you should change out of those wet leathers while i’m out.”

i nod politely, but my eyes betray me by glancing quickly at the sodden bag in my arms and azriel immediately notices.

“oh, right. of course.” he says stiffly, as if remembering the circumstance of how my belongings were thrown into the mud and rain.

“not a problem.” he strides across the room to where his pack rests against the wall. “here.”

he pulls a bundle out and extends it towards me. it takes me a second to understand his meaning, but when i do, i immediately resist. “no! azriel, those are yours.”

“so? you need to get out of those freezing clothes before you make yourself sick from the cold.”

“so do you!” i argue back. “you’re not giving up your only dry clothes for something that was my-”

“it was not your fault.” i take a step back at the tone in his voice and the darkness in his eyes. i know azriel is intimidating and cold, i’ve seen it before and i saw it again earlier when he slaughtered my attackers with no hesitation. but, i have never been on the receiving end of it. the ice in his voice is colder than the freezing rain and i can’t suppress the chill that rushes through me.

his glare softens and some warmth returns to his voice, although a harsh edge still remains as he continues. “whatever conclusions you seem to have drawn that make you think that whatever happened earlier was in any way your fault, get rid of them. immediately.” the command in his voice is impossible to ignore and i find myself subconsciously obeying his instructions.

“and as for the clothing situation, i have a solution for that. as long as you can give me one minute to explain without arguing.” his face has entirely transformed from just moments ago, the cold expression completely erased and replaced with humor and teasing.

i open my mouth to respond and he raises his eyebrows slightly, a smirk tugging on the edges of his lips. i close my mouth and simply nod, glaring playfully but keeping quiet so he can explain.

his smirk widens ever so slightly at my mock indignation. “i always bring several spare pairs of socks, so no worries there. and you can wear my shirt. i figure you’re small enough that it should be plenty long on you. and i can just wear my spare pants while my leathers dry.” my eyes widen slightly at the thought of az with just pants on and he chuckles softly as if he knows what just crossed my mind. “will that work for you?”

i swallow, erasing the mental image of him shirtless and quickly nod. he smirks playfully before handing me the bundle he attempted to earlier. “good. now you change and i’m going to find something to burn.” and with that he moves past me and out the door, trudging into the pouring rain.

i head to the back room and shut the door behind me. the room is bare except for a bed with a threadbare quilt on it and a small dresser with a broken handle. i begin to peel off my wet clothing, struggling as the soaked material clings to my skin. when i get down to my underwear i hesitate, unsure if i should leave it on or not. a draft moves through the house and i shiver, quickly deciding i will never stop freezing if i don’t remove all my wet clothing.

a faint scent fills my nose as i pull az’s shirt over my head. it reminds me of a rainy forest, but not like the one we just spent our day traveling in. no, it’s like a forest right after a summer rain, everything smelling fresh and clean with just a hint of cedar and pine clinging around the edges. the dry cotton helps to ease the chill of my skin almost immediately. he was right. the shirt is so large on me it reaches past my mid-thighs and i have to roll the sleeves up several times in order to free my hands.

i pull on the wool socks and then gather up my soaking clothes before heading back into the main room. i’m surprised to find him already back inside, kneeling in front of the fireplace with a stack of wood next to him.

“well that was quick,” i comment quietly, suppressing the urge to fidget as i realize that although the shirt covers plenty, i have more of my legs exposed than i have ever intentionally had out before.

“i found a woodshed out back. it has plenty of wood and almost all of it was still dry. i don’t know who built this place, but whoever did knew how to build a solid roof because both the house and the woodshed-” he stops talking as he turns to address me. i notice his nostrils flare ever so slightly as his eyes quickly rake over me, lingering on my legs for a moment.

i feel a blush creeping up my face as he stares. a rush of heat washes over me as i notice the look in his eyes. no one has ever looked at me like that. camden always looked at me like a possession, something he deserved simply for existing. but azriel is looking at me with what seems like awe, and maybe something else. i avert my gaze to the floor, embarrassed by his attention and feeling unworthy of the reverence in his eyes.

after a moment that feels like an eternity, he clears his throat and continues speaking. “both the house and the woodshed are completely dry, not a single leak anywhere.” when i look at him again, his attention is fixed on the fireplace in front of him, his body turned slightly away from me as if he is using it as a physical reminder not to look at me again.

“i’ll have this fire going in just a minute or two. it shouldn’t take long for the cabin to warm up.”

“thank you,” i mumble quietly while padding across the floor to sit in the lone chair. the wood is freezing, even through the shirt, but it’s better than standing awkwardly in the hallway while he builds the fire.

true to his word, the fire is blazing in no time at all, its bright flames illuminating the rapidly darkening room.

i move over to the fire, taking the chair with me. i drape my wet clothes over the back of the chair to dry, while azriel digs through his bag for his dry clothing. i watch as he turns back towards me, clothing in hand. his gaze moves towards mine, but stops and fixates on the chair. an emotion i can’t identify passes over his face before his features harden.

“i’m going to change.” azriel quickly moves past me to head to the bedroom and closes the door, never once looking at me.

i sit on the floor, too stunned to do anything else. what just happened? i thought we had sorted through our issues earlier? did what happened with those nasty males set him off again? i sit and ponder in silence for a long while until i hear the bedroom door open again.

i shake off my confusion and unease and try to act normal.

any sense of normalcy immediately flies out the window the second i turn and see az. he enters the room and all i can do is stare. he’s wearing loose cotton pants that hang dangerously low on his hips. my eyes greedily scan the smooth expanse of his broad chest and lean abdomen, noticing every line and dip of his defined muscles. when he walks past me and lays his leathers out to dry, i watch the muscles of his back ripple as he moves.

i need to stop staring before our situation gets more uncomfortable and weird than it was before he changed. i pull my eyes off of him and stare at my hands, unsure of what i’m supposed to do.

i hear more movement and rustling, but refuse to look, knowing i won’t be able to resist the urge to stare at his body. after a moment a hand appears before me holding bread and cheese.

“it’s not much, but it will at least tie us over until tomorrow when i can find us something more substantial to eat.”

“thank you,” i reply softly while risking a glance up to his face. i find him staring at the wall, not looking at me and my heart drops.

we eat our food in silence.

a little while after we finish i hear azriel clear his throat. “well we should probably get some sleep so we can get an early start tomorrow. hopefully the rain will let up by then. the room is probably warmer now that the fire has been going so hopefully you shouldn’t freeze while you sleep.”

i nod and then stand and start to head back to the bedroom, but pause when i don’t hear him following. i turn around and watch as he pulls the thin blanket out of his pack and begins unrolling it on the floor.

“you’re not sleeping out here are you?” i ask, horrified by the thought of him having to sleep on the dirty, hard floor.

“well, yes. i was.”

“no. no. absolutely not.”

azriel gives me a confused look before responding. “why not? i’ve slept on the floor plenty of times before.”

“you’re not sleeping on the floor when there is a perfectly good bed here!”

“and let you sleep on the floor?”

yes! i think to myself, knowing full well he would have been able to make it to a comfortable, dry inn tonight if it weren’t for me slowing him down.

“absolutely not! i can’t believe you think i would let you sleep on the floor while i take the bed!”

“well it only seems fair since-”

“i swear to the cauldron if you try to blame yourself for this too i am going to lose my mind.” the visible tension in his jaw reveals how hard azriel is trying to keep his frustration under control.

“but-”

“stop! just stop. i will not argue with you about this, aelis. whatever reason you have concocted in your head as to why this situation is your fault is silly. and i won’t listen to it. so just stop.”

“okay,” i watch the tension in his body lessen slightly as i comply. “but i’m not sleeping in that bed if you’re sleeping on the floor.” his shoulders immediately lock back up again.

“well i’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

“fine, i guess we will both have to sleep in the bed then.” the second the words come flying out of my mouth i wish i could take them back.

azriel’s eyebrows raise questioningly for just a moment before he replies, “fine.”

i search his face for any signs that he is joking, but he’s completely serious. my heart starts pounding at the thought of both of us in the same bed. i have never ever under any circumstances slept in the same bed as anyone before, much less a male. i can’t believe i suggested it. almost as much as i can’t believe that he agreed.

not wanting him to see the embarrassment written all over my face, i quickly turn and head into the bedroom. i hear him rise from the floor, grab the blanket, and follow.

unsure of what to do now that i have reached the bedroom, i stand awkwardly next to the bed and turn towards azriel as he also enters the room.

“after you,” he says while gesturing towards the bed, the edge of a smirk playing at his lips as he senses my unease.

i stiffly turn and crawl onto the bed, moving as close to the wall as i can. the bed looked plenty large enough when i was standing next to it, but now that i’m in it, the space next to me looks much, much smaller.

without hesitation, az joins me on the bed.

i watch as he struggles to position himself and his wings on his half off the bed. i never realized what an inconvenience having wings must be until now as he moves them yet again. after fumbling and readjusting for several minutes he finally settles on laying on his side, facing me, with his wings draped over the edge of the bed.

"sorry," he says quietly, "sometimes it takes me a while to find a comfortable position when i'm not in my own bed."

my eyes quickly scan his body. i notice how his feet hang slightly off the end of the bed clearly not made for someone of his stature. i look at his shoulders which are visibly tense from the weight of his huge wings hanging with no alleviation since there is no room on the bed for him to rest them.

"you still don't look very comfortable," i say as my gaze returns to his.

“i’ve slept in much more uncomfortable places before.”

“so you admit you’re not comfortable.”

“well, i don’t exactly have a lot of options with wings and a bed this size.”

“i could always just sleep on the floor, that would give you more room to position your wings.”

“no.” his answer is entirely predictable, but i figured i would at least try one last time. at least this time i was able to get out my entire request without interruption before he shot me down.

“well, still. i’m sorry you’re not very comfortable.”

“like i said, i’ve slept in much more uncomfortable places. i’ll be fine.” and with that he spreads the threadbare quilt and thin blanket across us. they won’t do much to keep me warm, but they are better than nothing and the heat from the fireplace has warmed the room slightly. regardless, i doubt the chill in my bones will fully leave me tonight.

due to his wings, az has no other choice than to lay facing me. after just a few minutes, i roll over to face the wall, unable to lie there with him staring at me any longer. changing position does little to help as i can still feel the weight of his gaze on my back and the presence of his body so close to mine. i’m convinced i’ll never be able to sleep knowing he’s right there, but somehow, i eventually drift off.

* * *

the first thing i notice is the warmth. i’m so warm. i don’t know if i can remember the last time i was this warm. it definitely wasn’t anytime on this journey. i smile softly in my drowsy state, content at last now that the cold i couldn’t seem to shake from my system has left.

after dwelling in the bliss of warmth for a few moments i start to notice other things. like how the surface beneath my head is hard. i must have rolled off my pillow at some point in the night. i start to slide my hand up to find the pillow, but freeze the instant my hand slides across bare skin.

my eyes fly open and all i see is smooth, tanned skin broken up by dark swirls and shapes in ancient patterns. my mind whirls as it tries to catch up and….shit. shit. my head is resting on az’s shoulder and my arm is thrown across his waist and, oh gods. somehow during the night, my leg ended up draped over the top of one of his thighs while his wing ended up wrapped around me. no wonder i’m so warm, i’m literally laying intertwined with az!

my only saving grace is that his shirt is so long that whenever i decided to roll on top of him during the night, it tucked between my thighs so my bareness isn’t pressed directly against him right now.

i don’t know what to do. i can’t stay like this. if he wakes up and finds me practically straddling him i’ll die of embarrassment and humiliation. but if i move and he wakes up, same result.

after steadying my breathing for a moment, i slowly begin the process of removing myself from az’s body. i move slower than i thought possible, watching him for any signs he might be waking up.

after what feels like an eternity i finally manage to get myself completely off of him and quickly roll over to face the wall again, letting out a sigh of relief as i do. my relief is short-lived as i feel the mattress move beneath me a moment before a strong arm wraps around my waist and az pulls himself closer, his chest flush with my back and his wing curling in around us.

my breath catches in my throat. what is happening. i listen carefully, not moving until i notice his breaths haven’t changed. he’s still breathing steady and slow. oh, thank the cauldron, he’s still sleeping. he must have just moved unconsciously like i did. i begin breathing again, but try to remain still, not wanting him to wake and experience the same fear and embarrassment i just did moments prior.

after a while my muscles relax as i settle into him, secretly enjoying the feeling of his arm around me and the warmth of his chest against my back. we continue to lay like this for several more minutes and i feel as though i might fall asleep again when he moves.

just slightly, nothing more than him readjusting. but, the movement pushes his hips tighter against my ass and my heart skips a beat. a moment later, he does the same movement again, but more purposeful. another moment later, again. warmth builds low in my core at the sensation. as he does the movement once more, i feel him harden against me and a rush runs through me.

i’m fighting every urge in my body to move against him, both thrilled and terrified by what is happening.

all of a sudden i feel his entire body go tense behind me, like he’s frozen. i hear his breath catch and an almost silent curse leave his lips before he goes silent once more. i try to keep my body still and my breathing steady, not wanting to give away how awake i am in this moment. slowly, he pulls his arm off of me and carefully pushes himself away until the only thing touching me is the wing that remains slightly curled around me.

my back feels suddenly cold without his chest against me. confusion begins to cloud my mind as i run through everything that just happened. i have never reacted like that to a male. ever. i have always wanted to distance myself, to get it over with as quick as possible. and yet, when i felt az against me, i wanted nothing more than to move closer, to continue whatever he had unknowingly started.

i continued to ponder these thoughts and feelings over and over until sunlight breaks through the small window, signaling the start to our day.

thanks for reading and lmk what you think! i love hearing all your feedback!!!

taglist: @lennaleen @mis-lil-red

23 notes · View notes

alfieetheringtonstinginthetale · 2 years

Text

ok so after all the previous sketching and various doctor designs I came up with a look that managed to keep more in line with being a bit more realistic while still keeping some aspect for stylisation.

So this was the base I wound up with by the end of it, the facial build and baggy eyes were came up with with a variety of different concepts taken from previous scientists designs I drew, as I mentioned this is a base meaning I used this as said bass to draw different accessories and clothing on different layers

these designs hair styles and outfits were all made with the purpose of trying to narrow down a concept by giving myself as many options for experimentation with the design as possible, for instance some outfits are more basic 1800 scientist apparel and others, while others are more disheveled and run down looking almost looking as if the outfits represents the character having an entire different careers, the hairs are also based on the different fictional scientists I’ve studied so fair, the last thing to talk about here is the robot eye, which was more creation in mind for the outfit of the raggedy looking labcoat, to sort of give off that vibe of a mad scientist who’s seen better days living in a scrap yard and managed to replace a missing or defunct eye with the leftover parts around him, one last thing to mention in the next paragraph

The little fella shown below is an idea I came up with of a sort of goofy looking gear creature that’s supposed to be a this voice in the mad scientists head embodied by being this cute little gear creature, maybe he’s a form of moral conscious for the morally bankrupt scientist or maybe his silly appearance is just a ruse and he instead makes the scientist double down on all there immoral and cruel experiments personally I prefer the second option personally, there not a character really though there more a voice in the head of the scientist that’s given a visual look.

overall there’s all my work for the scientist concepts nothing here is exactly perfect and still pretty rough but I’m pretty proud of the amount of assets and things i managed to create for this concept section of things.

0 notes

huenjin · 4 years

Text

and they were roommates.

summary — who would have thought that a very naked sight of your best friend and a torn shower curtain in the rainiest of weathers could start romance? or in which you start falling for your childhood best friend, lee minho, unaware that he’s always been in love with you.

pairing — lee minho x reader, ft. binsung.

genre — fluff, smut, crack | roommates!au, bff2l!au

rating — 18+

word count — 11k words.

note — smut warnings under the cut, ofc! i suck at making summary adagafga!! but but but, i promise this story is adorable, okay, minus all that smut, my lame humor and those bit of rushed parts? this took forever and i'm so sorry for all that had to wait, especially the one who requested this uwuwu.

smut warnings — a lot of kissing, a lot of swearing, mentions of naked exposure, fingering, cunnilingus, riding/reader on top, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it), choking. there isn't a loooot of smut either, ah! so enjoy the fluff ride.

"You idiot," you scream, loud enough for your neighbours to hear. You pull out the keys that hang outside in the key hole and pull open the door. "How could you leave the keys outside, Minho?"

"I mean, what if someone stole it?" You throw your keys and Minho's into the small box on a ledge by the door. Removing your shoes, you put on the pair of your house shoes by the side and walk further into the apartment. "Or what if someone broke in? You could get killed, you dumb hoe! Or worse, our new television could get stolen."

You hear no response and just the loud sound of shower running in the bathroom hits the walls of your shared apartment. You walk to your room, passing by the common bathroom, after throwing your bag on the sofa. You talk on the way, yelling in hopes that he would hear.

"Did you walk back in the rain? There's no other reason as to why I did not see you after college. Jisung was searching for you too, Minho."

You change into a pair of shorts and black camisole, pulling your hair up and knotting it, all while your ears pick up the small humming from the bathroom. You shake your head at the fact that since it's Lee Minho in the shower, he is probably going to take his own time to come out. After all, he is the reason why your water bill is so high.

"Yah, Lee Minho!" You walk outside and hit the door with your fists to bring at least a little of his attention towards you. "Do you want the leftovers or should I get food delivered?"

"Delivery!" he screams back, hearing the shower sounds lower and you yell back in response, "Okay," and walk back to the living room, falling back and plopping down on the comfortable rexine covered sofa.

Your phone rings in the next minute and you are pulling it from your pocket quickly all because you are bored out of your mind. It is also because your stupid best friend from the god forbidden age of five to till this date, takes forever to get out from the shower.

It's Jisung. Not that you would have a doubt even if you had picked up without looking at the name on the screen — your friend circle is that small. It has just been you, Minho and Jisung majorly for almost three fourth of your life, the other one fourth of it with you having your parents as your best friends. Jisung had always been the annoying kid in the playground that pushed you off the swing because he wanted to play and Minho had always been the knight in shining armour in your local playground, the defender of all things right as he saved you from Jisung's frustrating taunts.

And then your mother — oh dear, she is the reason why you are still stuck with Minho's rich arse (mostly because she thought too that this is the finest her very antisocial daughter would ever find in a man) — decides that since Lee Minho was so kind to save her poor damsel-like daughter, he might as well do it forever. Fast forward to present day, and you are still cleaning up after him.

"Did Minho reach home?" Jisung asks as soon as you answer the call. You roll your eyes and shift your position to one that allows you to stretch your leg against the length of the sofa.

"Oh, hi, Y/N," you fake your tone, mocking Jisung's ignorance. "Did you reach home safely? Did you get caught in the rain? Oh no!" And then quickly changing it back to normalcy, "Yes, Jisung. I reached home safely. The rain did get heavy as I walked back home but nothing to worry. Did you reach home safely?"

Jisung is laughing loudly on the other end. "Sorry, Y/N," he makes a weird kissing sound and you pull your phone away from your ear. "I presume Minho's safe at home, else you would be the one to crash my phone with the endless calls in worry of his safety. Ha!"

"He got caught in the rain," you sigh. "I hope he's okay though. I would have mentioned how he was, had he just come out of that goddamn bathroom but no! It almost seems like he is rebuilding the whole bathroom." Jisung laughs so loud that you have to pull the phone away from your ear again.

"Dude, dude, dude," Jisung calls out for you through the line.

"Yeah?"

"You and Minho are totally like my parents fighting."

"Do you want to get punched in your face, Han Jisung?" You sit up straight, folding your leg across each other and bending forward, your elbow digging into your thigh as your hand supports your head.

"And my boyfriend would punch yours if you punched mine," he huffs and you know he is talking about Seo Changbin. At a good five feet and six inches, the shorter male befriended Jisung and then wooed him over in grade eleven with some weird shining universe experiment for a science project and the Han Jisung you had always known, fell for the gesture immediately. They began dating a week after, making Changbin the only other human being you willingly chose to become closer to.

"Like Minho would let that," you click your tongue and Jisung laughs again, mumbling, "How have you guys not slept with each other yet? You guys are roommates."

"I'll kill you, Han Jisung."

"Like you would." The minute Jisung taunts back, you hear a loud noise of something crashing down and the sound is from the bathroom. You jump upwards, quickly hanging up without even telling Jisung that you were leaving as you drop your phone and rush towards the bathroom, taking huge steps to reach before the door in less than a few seconds.

You slam your fist against the door, over and over again, yelling, "Yah," to draw his attention before asking, "Minho, are you okay? I'm coming in," and you pull open the door to the common bathroom. A decision you wish you had not chosen but one you had to take for his safety.

Before a very surprised you lay a very, very naked Lee Minho, groaning with his back against the cold white tiles of the bathroom, neck lifting his head above to instinctively avoid hitting the floor. His hand holds a huge piece of the shower curtain that he must have tried holding onto before falling and as the colour drains from your face, lips wide apart, staring at your naked best friend in shock who is staring back at you, it dawns upon you quickly.

You immediately slap your hand over your eyes and scream as loud as you could possibly, "Fuck, fuck. I just saw your schlong, oh my god!"

"Are you not going to look at me at all now that you saw my dick?"

Minho rolls his eyes at you as a soft groan leaves his lip while he tries to make himself more comfortable on his bed. This time, he is fully clothed, black shirt over his torso and navy blue shorts. You are sitting on a small chair by his side, Chinese herbal medicinal mix in a white ceramic bowl, a tub filled with warm water and a towel and long white bandages on the table by the bed. The Chinese herbal medicinal mix was something your mother specifically ordered you to prepare for the boy before you.

You hand him a cup of warm water first which he takes and is about to swallow it down when you look at the wooden bedpost behind him and mumble, "But I saw your womb raider." Minho chokes on the water before coughing and you quickly pat his back which leads him to cry softly in pain and you are left apologising over and over again for being reckless.

He places the cup on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he narrows his eyes at you and questions, "Womb raider? What the fuck?"

"You know, your schlong," you look away, heat rising up to your cheek. "I saw your schlong, a womb raider."

"I can't believe you call a dick that," he groans, rolling his eyes as if he has completely given up on you, "After having your womb raided enough by many womb raiders."

You look away, taking the ceramic bowl in your hand and mumbling, "None of them were long and thick enough to be called a womb raider though."

"Did you say anything, Y/N?"

"Nothing," you yell and glare at him, cheeks still hot with the image still vivid in your head. "You can't look disappointed in me," you frown at him, "I should be disappointed. You tore the shower curtain."

"It was a mistake!" Minho gasps and tries to sit up but quickly ditches the plan when he feels the spin surge through him. You place the bowl back on the table and push yourself forward to help Minho sit up, your arms wrapped around his waist, your chest against his as you slowly pull him up. Minho explains himself, "If I didn't hold onto that, I would have gotten injured worse. I'm almost perfect now. It's just the slight—" You press your palm against his back and he seethes in pain.

"Slight pain, indeed," you scoff and finally let him rest against the bedpost. "This should do the magic though." You lift the ceramic bowl again and wave it before him, shoving the weird smelling green substance right in front of his nose. "My mother totally said it would work. She also said that you would have to be on the bed resting the whole day."

"You'll be my maid the whole day," Minho lights up, face instantly shining and you sigh, "Do I have an option? After this day though, we are going to buy shower curtains and you are going to pay for it because you tore it." You accuse him and he clicks his tongue.

"Fine."

"Remove your shirt now," you order and he looks at you, a teasing glint glistening in his eyes and he smiles, moving slightly closer.

"Why? Are you going to call my abs washboard now? That you could do laundry on them?" He purses his lips and leans forward and you push him back, his aching back hitting the bedpost again and Minho is crying with pain on the soft impact, albeit this time, you worry if it is fake. "Y/N," he cries, clamping down against his lower teeth hard, "Can you go easy on me?"

"Then stop teasing me!"

"Fine!" He huffs and looks away, "Help me out of this shirt now."

"What? Why? You put the shirt on fine. Can't you remove it on your own?" You question him, the ceramic bowl securely on your lap. Minho stares at you for the longest time ever and you stare back.

Has his eyes always been this tender? Has his skin always been this soft? Was Lee Minho always this charming and pretty to look at?

This is all because you saw his stupidly good dick, argh!

Minho finally answers, "It's harder to remove a shirt than to wear it." You shake your head and your eyes narrow to crinkled slits as you watch your best friend for a second more before placing the crucible back on the table and bending yourself forward to hold tightly the ends of his black shirt. You lift the black material up and remove it from his torso, exposing his abdomen and chest to the warm breeze in the air.

He stares at you and you stare at him back, only till you take the white ceramic bowl again and hopefully the last time and you raise an eyebrow at him, mocking him, "Aren't you going to give me the classic Wattpad naked white male line?"

"What line?"

He looks confused and you laugh, holding the bowl tightly, "You know, the—" You try to lower the pitch of your voice and to sound as cocky as possible, smirking, "Like what you see, baby girl?"

Minho laughs with you till he calms himself down a little, tilts his head and in the most guttural voice you have ever heard your best friend ever go, he repeats, "Like what you see, my baby girl?"

Your heart should not have sped up. Your fingers should not have tightened against the cold white crucible. You should not have pressed your thighs against each other. You should not have had your throat dried up at his very words. But it did and you are staring at Lee Minho in an angle you had never seen him.

When did that stupid five year old boy who thought he could save the whole world grow up into this man?

"Uh, Y/N," Minho waves his hand in front of you, trying to bring your attention back. "Are you going to apply the medicine or? I mean, it's cold."

"Oh yeah," you stutter. "Yeah, yeah, I was about to. Can you turn back so that I can apply it on your back?"

"Yeah," he nods and pressing his hands into the mattress, he shifts himself, turning a one hundred and eight degrees away from you so that his back is facing yours. "This okay?"

"Yeah," you agree. You bend your arm forward to take the cloth soaked in warm water and you press it against his back. Minho bites his tongue in pain, eyes watering before he can't take it anymore and he turns back to face you.

"Minho?"

"Can I do that thing you allowed me to do whenever I was in pain and you had to take care of me?" He asks, unsure, "Am I allowed?"

You nod, softly, smiling warmly at the man before you and you lift the chair up slightly. Minho quickly wraps his arms around your waist, his face buried into your soft chest as he edges closer to you. You place the warm cloth again on his broad back and Minho does what he has always done to combat pain.

He bites into your flesh softly, hard enough to trigger something weird within you at this age but soft enough to not cause any pain.

Your eyes widen and your thighs tighten a bit but Minho is unaware to all this as he snuggles into your warmth, head fuzzy with the pain that throbs through his entire back. After a few minutes, you place the cloth back on the table and hold the crucible tightly. You dig your forefinger and middle finger into the green mix before applying it on his back, soft circles to calm him down and Minho lets go of your flesh, although he still continues to snuggle into you, his thick arms tightening around your frame.

"You're comfortable to hug," he mumbles as you apply the medicine all over his back, his face occasionally pressing against your breast and you gulp, reminding yourself that this is your best friend, that this is the kid you've seen in all his embarrassments.

"Of course, I am," you laugh. "It doesn't pain that much, does it?"

"Not anymore."

"Good," and you apply another layer over the existing one. "Because if you say anything else to my mother, I swear to God, Lee Minho, I will—"

You don't complete. Minho laughs — soft, precious laughter that fills the air and engages your ears. He tilts his head to look up at you from his lower angle. You look down only to come in direct vision of his bright, glistening eyes that hold the stars behind them and his oh-so-flawless skin that you are envious of. Your heart beat escalates and you are about one hundred percent sure that Minho is aware. After all, he did have his ear against your chest in this position.

"Fine, fine," his voice is airy and you could listen to it the whole day. "I'll tell your mother that her daughter took care of me perfectly, alright?"

"Perfect," you smile. "Now sit up straight. I need to bandage you up, just in case." Minho begrudgingly pulls back, a soft whimper leaving his lips before he huffs, folding his arms and sitting straight, looking you in the eyes and you gulp.

"I'll be fine in a day, Y/N," Minho whines and you shake your head, mumbling, "Just in case." You turn your body to grab hold of the white roll of bandage before you beckon for him to come a little closer as you wrap the bandage over his torso, covering the medicinal herbs sticking to his body now.

"You, in fact," you chuckle as you tighten the bandage and Minho seethes in pain at having his muscles pressed. You rub his hair affectionately before continuing, "You, Lee Minho, should be ready enough to cash out money for the shower curtain."

"Fine, fine, fine," Minho huffs only to break out into a smile as he looks at you. "We'll go as soon as I don't think I'll die if I stand up and straighten my back, okay?"

"Perfect," you laugh and pull yourself away from your best friend, clipping the bandage in the exact manner. You help him lie back against the soft mattress. You pick up the crucible and the tub of water as you stand up.

"Y/N," Minho calls out for you and you turn, your head gliding against the joint and your eyebrows rising up in question.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he smiles, eyes closed and face so soft that you do want to hold it.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me, doofus. What would I have done had you not been there? You are my knight in shining armour now."

You laugh but your heart is furiously beating against your chest, thrumming against it so loudly that you can hear the beats. Your cheeks flush with heat and you look away, mumbling, "It's nothing," and walk away. You close the door quickly and fall against the vast wooden door finally, away from his presence and you hold the bowls close to you.

Fuck. When did your heart start beating this hard for the same man that you once knew as the stupid five year old with elephant print trunks? When did your heart start thrumming so loudly against your chest for your only best friend?

Either ways, you are doomed. Inevitably.

Jisung: baby, i think it's about time Changbin: for what? Jisung: you know, how we always said those two should probably fuck Changbin: yeah? Jisung: the sexual tension is too high. can we get it over with already and have them date already? Changbin: you've been trying this forever and you failed. Jisung: don't remind me. you're my boyfriend, support me. Changbin: fine! go, sungie!! i love you either way though.

It is exactly three days after the I-exposed-my-cock incident that Lee Minho agrees to go with you to buy the shower curtains.

"Can't we just buy it online?" He had whined, arms folding against each other as he scrolled through his phone. You stand by the sofa, head shaking in disappointment as you reason back, frustrated, "The material," and you hit his arm. Minho winces. "The material is important. I won't compromise on that. Plus, you promised that you would come with me to buy something that you tore. Isn't that only fair?"

Minho does so. After bargaining with him for one tub full of mint chocolate ice cream that you will never understand why he loves so much.

That is exactly how you find yourself here in this shop, shopping cart in your hand and Minho by your side.

"We are only buying the shower curtain," you tell him, staring at the half full shopping cart. "So I don't understand why we need all these."

Minho smiles sheepishly at you. He then points at the two tubs of ice cream and says, "One for you, and one for me. I even chose your favorite flavor!" He continues to point at each article and tell why he needs them very articulately and you stand there in surprise before breaking his speech.

"Fine, fine!" You push the cart ahead. "Now let's just go and get what we came here for." Minho follows you, his one hand on the shopping cart handle to keep pace with you. The two of you stop right in front of the array of curtains in different colours, some on display and some packaged and you smile, whispering under your breath, "Tada." Minho looks at you softly, at the small voice of joy that escapes your lips and he just watches you light up in fascination at something as simple as shower curtains.

Fuck, he loves your domesticity.

"Let's take this," Minho announces as he stretches his arms out to hold onto a pretty blue shower curtain. You hold it in between your fingers feeling the texture before announcing, "No."

"But why?" Minho whines, following your footsteps as you hold onto another shower curtain.

"Because it's polythene," you frown at your best friend. Minho looks at you, confused, his eyebrows furrowing as they look at you like you have grown another pair of hands and legs.

"And so?"

"You could tear it again!"

"It happened once," he sighs, frustrated. "Once. It's not like I'm waiting to fall in the shower, tear the curtain and have you see my dick all the time, babe."

Your cheeks flush at his announcement and the tag he calls you by, your eyes looking away from his pretty face for a split second. Minho shakes his hand, taking a step forward to check a few other shower curtains out when the two of you hear a very familiar voice from behind, in the most professional manner ever.

"Sir, the one you chose is perfect. It is very durable and doesn't stain on contact with water—"

"Han Jisung?" Minho turns, the words of shock leaving his mouth almost instantly. You turn impulsively, eyes wide.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?"

"Hey," you narrow your eyes at the other male. "I could file a report for bad customer service about now, Sungie."

He folds his arms and looks at the two of you suspiciously, "What are you guys doing here?" He raises an eyebrow at you, scoffing at you, "Like you would."

"What does it look like we're doing here, Sungie?" You bite back jokingly and Jisung laughs, gaze shifting between the two of you.

"I don't know," he runs a hand through his hair before folding his arms again, his fluorescent yellow uniform crumbling with the shift in his arms. "Is this some sort of a new way to date?"

"We aren't—" You quickly start when Minho pulls a curtain forward and breaks your sentence before you can complete as he asks Jisung, "This isn't polythene, is it?"

"Are you stupid?" Jisung frowns before he laughs. "That's clearly polythene. Minho, dude, you're a chemical engineering student. You have got to be kidding me if you can't identify polythene."

Minho doesn't pay heed to Jisung's words. You, on the other hand, stare at your best friend who walks away from you to examine more shower curtains. Did Lee Minho really ask Jisung, a literature student, whether that was polythene — What in the world?

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" Jisung snaps your attention back to the present. "Are you going to buy shower curtains today?"

"Yeah?"

"But your shower curtains were fine the last time I came home." You understand Jisung's surprise because the last time he did come home was five days back and the shower curtain was in a perfect condition. "What happened?"

You stretch your arms and point at Minho. The very culprit rolls his eyes before raising his eyebrows and sighing, voicing in the most dramatic voice you have ever heard Minho take, "Yes, Y/N. Yes, Ji. It's me. I tore the shower curtain because I fell in the shower."

"Ouch," Jisung acknowledges Minho's injury before walking past the two of you and taking a shower curtain. "Here's one. You might like this, Y/N."

"It's not PVC, Sungie."

Jisung wants to hit your head, terribly. Perhaps it's your adamance that is the reason as to why your friendship is this tight and strong but in moments like these, he likes Minho more. Minho stands by the side, arms folded and back resting against the wall as he trusts your judgement.

"Are you not going to tell her anything?"

"She handles all this at home. Give her what she wants, Ji," he laughs, fiddling with a few more shower curtains by his side. Jisung shakes his head in disappointment before mumbling, a soft frustrated groan leaving his lips as he throws his head back, "Definitely a married couple," and takes a few polyvinyl chloride made shower curtains.

"Here," he presses his lips. "Don't blame me if the designs aren't that great. You don't get that many good designs in PVC. People go for polythene because it's more available."

"PVC doesn't tear and it's easy to clean!"

"Seconding this as a chemical engineering student," Minho chirps in from behind. You and Jisung turn to look at the man who is on his phone currently and shake your head lightly. "What?"

"He remembers his major now!" Jisung clicks his tongue. "All say, praise the Lord."

"I'm agnostic." You frown.

"More reasons for you to say it easily!"

You find a plain one in the ones he showed you and you take it. Jisung smiles finally, mumbling, "You're a frustrating customer."

"Nah," you scoff. Minho pushes himself off the wall as soon as he sees you done with the selection. "I just know what I want exactly. You, on the other hand, sweetheart," you poke his chest and Jisung chuckles. "You're a pathetic salesperson."

"Of course," he laughs the insult away. "I'm a literature student. I should be working in a publishing company as a part timer."

Minho takes the shower curtain from your hand and puts it in the cart by the side. He comes back, throwing his arm over Jisung's shoulder and frowns, "Apparently publishing companies care a lot more about who your parents are than your resume."

"It's just that publishing company," the other male looks down. "I'll try applying for another one soon."

"Do you want to grab a drink at our place tonight?"

"Can I?"

"Sure," Minho agrees. He drops his arm from Jisung's shoulder and holds the cart handle back, pushing it forward slightly. You take big strides to stand by Minho's side, also holding the handle slightly. Jisung raises his eyebrows at the two of you and with a smile that you don't think twice about, Jisung laughs.

"I'm coming over tonight."

"Sure," you throw your thumbs up at him, stretching your arm. Minho smiles softly at you, his eyes lingering a little longer at your happy figure and he feels his heart beat a little quicker at your sight. Your hair strands framing your face so beautifully, eyes shining the minute you find the exact thing you've had in your mind and your lips curving upwards in joy.

Lee Minho finds the calmness that spring brings him every year in him all over again with you by his side.

"Bring the soju. Beer is on us!"

Jisung: binnie, binnie!! Changbin: yes, baby? Jisung: i think i have a plan. Changbin: let them be, babe. Jisung: we let them be all these years! they pinned after each other without even knowing and we had to see that painfully! Changbin: i guess you make a valid point there Jisung: is it going to rain today? Changbin: it's been raining for the last few days, sungie. it could. just because i study geography as my minor doesn't mean i can forecast weather. hey! Jisung: fine~ i'm going to get them to confess tonight 👀 Changbin: don't mess up. istg Jisung: trust me 🥺 Changbin: i do. more than ever ❤️

Jisung reaches your doorstep at sharp nine. With two bottles of soju in his hands, you see the stains of the droplets of rain falling onto his shoulder.

It is drizzling for now and you worry if it is to rain heavily in a few minutes as the forecast mentioned. You hate the thunder. You hate how the weather changes drastically and worsens to a point that it frightens you and makes you anxious. It's a phobia you have managed to hide from everyone for fears of being treated weaker.

Jisung makes himself at home. He always has. He places the soju bottles on the kitchen countertop and Minho smiles to himself as he walks towards the point where Jisung has happily seated himself. Minho and you are on the other end of the counter while Jisung sits on the adjustable chair, swirling in it before stopping and facing you, Minho and the bottles of soju before him.

"Did it finally hit him?"

"I think?" You whisper back.

"I'm right here!" Jisung yells and you smile. Minho pulls the chair from under the counter and sits himself opposite the other male, pressing his lips together and trying to not laugh. He opens the bottle of soju after shaking it and hitting it against his elbow for a while. It clinks open, the metal hitting the glass before falling onto the table and you watch the two, as Minho pours a drink for Jisung.

He downs it in one go, letting out a loud sigh before stretching his arms and demanding a second one.

"Go easy, Sungie. You have the whole night."

"I don't," he huffs. "Now, please."

Minho pours it again before looking at you and you shake your head to indicate that you wouldn't mind a few. You grab hold of one of the empty cups on the counter before stretching your arm too. Minho laughs – a soft chuckle, so airy and light that you find yourself holding your breath for a small second there – and he pours you your drink.

You twirl your drink, watching the liquid glide against the surface of the cup. Your best friend gets up and walks a little into the kitchen to open the fridge and grab a box of leftovers of fried chicken that you bought a few days ago. He pulls open the microwave to heat it and as he waits, he turns to look back at Jisung and asks him finally.

"Do you want me to drop a word to my uncle?"

"About?"

"He heads the Cheongsam Publication," Minho reveelas, pulling out the chicken from the microwave. He places it before the two of you and almost like you and Jisung were zoomed in, in an American sitcom, both of you gasp dramatically.

"Am I really your best friend?" Jisung yells and you narrow your eyes at Minho. Faking tears in his eyes, he persists in questioning, "Do I not matter to you, Minho?"

"Why are you rooming with me when you could possibly afford a whole room on your own?"

"Yes, Jisung," Minho sighs and sits back on his chair. You bend forward, arms folded against the table as you stare at your best friend in betrayal. "Also, Y/N, don't you love having me around?"

He laughs and rests his head on your shoulder suddenly, causing you to stiffen them in response. Your eyes drift to the left, trying to not make it overtly obvious that Minho's sudden reaction has taken you by surprise. Your eyes land forward on Jisung who looks at you as if he knew this all along, as if he wanted exactly this. The man has a goddamn smirk plastered on his face.

Jisung downs two more shots and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, mumbling, "Slow the fuck down. No one's chasing you."

"Yeah, my goddamn plan," he mumbles before coughing and taking another. Minho sits up straight, finally lifting his head from your shoulder. He stretches his arm to pat Jisung's shoulder in comfort.

"I'll drop a word."

"Now, don't you dare go and say that you want to earn it and all that bullshit," you sigh. "It's the fucking Republic Of Korea. Nepotism is the norm."

"Not planning on saying that," Jisung glares at you. Clearly, Jisung is slightly tipsy, having been the only person to keep drinking. You and Minho opt to just watch over Jisung for the night. Your best friend puckers his lips in Minho's direction and blowing kisses, he says, "I love you, Minho."

"Changbin wouldn't like you saying that to another man though," you scoff and Jisung flips you the middle finger before downing one more and standing up. The thunder rattles the three of you exactly then and you grip the table, face turning pale instantly. Minho's attention darts to you quickly in concern.

"You okay?" You hum in response, unconvincingly though to Minho whose gaze lingers on you in worry for just a while more. That is, till Jisung rips it away by dramatically placing the back of his hand on his forehead and playing the damsel in distress as he gasps so loudly, staring at the big window.

"It's raining heavily," he sighs and you shudder, afraid of another thunderstorm as you grip tightly on the side of the table.

"So?" Minho asks, both eyebrows raised at the man before him, looking at the two of you with doe eyes.

"I'm staying over, thanks," he rushes and runs to your bedroom, quickly shutting the door and latching it and you and Minho stare at each other. As soon as the realisation of what could happen dawns over you, you rush to your closed bedroom, fists banging against the wooden door.

"Yah, Han Jisung," you turn to look at Minho who watches you in amusement. "Open the fucking door."

"No. I don't want to go back home in the rain. You and Minho can share the bed. I am never opening the door. Good night."

"What the fuck? Yah, Sungie, stop acting like a child. Open the door now." You hear no response. "Sungie? Answer me. Open the door please." Minho walks over to you, and tries knocking too, in vain however because Jisung has no plans to open the door.

You look at Minho, the man slightly towering you as he stands by your side and you gasp. You had to share the bed with the same man you just realised you could, perhaps, have developed feelings for?

"Fuck."

Jisung: it finally seems to be working, binnie! luck's on my side this time. Changbin: oh baby. just please don't be disappointed if it doesn't work out this time either. Jisung: i won't be because it's definitely going to work out. eeeee! i'm so excited!

Another thunderstorm ripples through the air.

Your heart beats quicker in anxiety, eyes squeezing shut as you grip tightly on the pillow, a light whimper leaving your lips. You feel the mattress shuffling underneath you and in the next minute, your ears are covered by Minho's hands. You stiffen as he edges closer to you, his chin resting on your shoulder as his palm pressed against your pinna, covering your ear completely to protect you from the loud sounds of the thunder.

"Minho, what—"

His hand on your right ear slightly shifts to the side as he bends forward to whisper into your ear, to amplify the sounds enough as a way to distract you.

"You never ever told me you were scared of thunderstorms."

Lee Minho is way too close to you to think straight. You feel his body pressed against your back, heat radiating from him to you through your oversized hoodie. His breath is harsh against your skin as he leans close to whisper into your ear. And all this in an attempt to forget the thunderstorm.

So far, it's working like magic.

Your voice is almost small when you inform him, "We never happened to be in the same place during one," and Minho swears to God, he could lose it completely. All the self control to not confess and take you there is so ready to be shoved out of the window that all he can do is try and focus on worrying about your fears.

"I'll protect you," he mumbles so softly that you turn around to look at him. His eyes are bright in the soft lights in his room and as he lies by your side, so close that you can hear his heart that beats faster and his breath that is shallow, your lips part and you watch him.

You are fully justified for falling in love with this man.

A man that tells you he'd protect you from your fears, god alone knows how, but the fact that they don't seem like empty words. A man that you know like the back of your hand and the same man that seems to have protected you all throughout your life, even if you have done the same. It was inevitable. Falling for Lee Minho is inevitable.

And that's why you kiss him. Because you're in love with him so badly that all you can zero in is him, him, him.

Your lips press against his, so softly for a split second. As if you are unsure. As if you know you could be ruining years of friendship over something the two of you could consider a mistake.

You kiss him and suddenly it's the only thing that matters to you right now. Him, him, him. Your lips are slow and soft against him. It is almost as if you are reminding yourself that there has been nothing more morbidly right than this. To fall in love with your best friend. Minho's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.

It is just a second of a kiss and with Minho so stiff by your side, you panic, and ramble. "I'm sorry. I should have thought it could be unrequited. I like you and I should have asked—”

Minho crashes his lips on yours, so quickly that it takes your breath away and cuts your sentence in half, but you don't care. He pulls you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your pink ones. You let out a small gasp as you deepen the kiss, running your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you. It is just you and him in this small room. Just you and him in focus. You can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute. That it has always been beating for you.

Minho presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth, tongue chasing after yours. Minho kisses you like he has finally achieved the greatest thing ever and he never wants to let it go. Minho kisses like he loves you and you feel it. You feel every ounce of it.

Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. Playing with the ends of his roots, you suck on his lower lips before he pulls away and finally tells you, "I've always been in love with you, Y/N. Always."

Kissing you again, his thumb digs into the skin by your jaw as he delves deeper, as if he never wants to let you go. The air in the room heats up when your hand moves under his shirt, feeling his muscles under your skin and you moan against his lips. Minho lets go of your lips only to kiss the side of it and then your cheeks and then your jugular before he is littering kisses all over your neck. You moan explicitly, gripping on him and slightly grinding on his thigh. You feel your core heating up, arousal sticking to your panties and all you can think is,

“I want you.”

Minho swears to God that he has always loved confident women but when you shattered right before him and built your confidence right back up — that is the hottest thing he swears he has seen. That, and the fact that you had always been hot before his eyes.

“Really?” Minho lifts himself up and hovers on top of you.

“Really,” you decide to respond before you cup his face and pull his face closer to yours. You don't pull him in for a kiss just yet. Your eyes zero on him, trying to cancel out the loud thunderstorms in the background and just focus on the man before you that you love, that you've been in love unknowingly for a while.

You just hold his face and learn. You try to remember every single detail of his face that you never focussed on before.

You realise over again that his eyes are your favourite thing. They are black as charcoal and yet still shimmer as if stars are trapped and enclosed beneath them. And when he narrows them to look at you with a daze, your heart throbs and you gulp. They make your heart hurt whenever they fix on you.

You know his skin is soft as you touch. As creamy and velvety as they are, you can't stop touching him.

His mouth is a pretty shade of coral, plump and pouty and honestly so kissable it hurts to look at it for more than a few seconds. You wonder how you haven't driven yourself to kiss him yet. All these years.

Everything about his face is soft and delicate, that is till he turns a little to the side and angles it perfectly, his head backward and you can clearly see the sharpness of his jawline; the distinct manly cut that makes your mouth dry and your heart beat faster.

“You are perfect,” you gulp, your eyes back on him and Minho smiles widely. His warm breath caresses your face and his forehead is pressed against yours immediately.

“You know what else is perfect, baby?”

“No,” your voice is airy, even though you already know what he is going to say. You know it and yet the thought causes your heart to skip a bit, and flutter a lot in your chest.

“You and everything you have to offer. You are not average. You are one of the most perfect women I've seen in my whole life, Y/N,” he says. As soon as the words spill from his mouth, your lips are on his, claiming his mouth, the same ones that whispered into your ear that there is nothing to be afraid when he's right there by your side.

He gasps loudly as your hands leave his face and move to his hair to pull him down towards you — you need him so close to you. Your fingers get lost in his thick locks as you tug on them, forcing him to bend a lot forward and gladly welcome the intrusion of your tongue.

His lips are as soft as feathers and they feel like what you think heaven feels like. The warmth you experience is so much more than the tingle of first kisses and those innocent butterflies have nothing on the wanting void of a pit in your nether regions and the slick in between your thighs.

His hands slide down from your hips to reach behind your back and pull you upwards, only to tightly clasp around the curve of your bottom cheeks.

“Minho,” you groan against his lips after he pulls away from you. His lips are red and swollen, slick and shining with your saliva and so incredibly inviting you all over again and you fear that you may never want to stop kissing him for as long as you are breathing. You fear getting too addicted to this human – more than you already are – to a point where you need to be attached to him by the hip, to never let go of him.

Minho's lips move from your swollen lips to the curve of your jaw, down to the curved edges of your neck, sucking and kissing every exposed skin.

His hand moves from your clothed arse to under your hoodie, hand pressed against your back as he pulls you closer and forwards, until your chests are pressed against one another. His mouth is everywhere and god, you feel infinite and powerful.

His lips hover on yours. He smiles widely and you think it's cute. He inches his chin forward, flicking your nose a little with his own, a shy smile on his lips as he silently asks the permission to claim your lips anew; all over again.

You nod your head to signal yes. You hold your breath and your eyes flutter shut, awaiting him and his warmth.

Minho's kiss is slow and delicate at first. It is drawn out in a way that makes you want more, so much more, that you want to pull him in and suck the life out of him and yet, at the same time, it is precious and laced with not only the passion of the moment but also the tenderness of a first time together.

It makes your insides twitch and your heart lunge and it fogs up all of your thoughts to the point you feel yourself drowning in the sensation of his lips, pressed tightly on your own.

Your heart is beating quicker than ever in your chest, against your ribs, and you pull him even closer, so tight your chests have no choice but to heave against each other with every single breath you take. You don’t want to let him go, not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

Minho is something you desperately want to hold onto in your life. He knows your secrets, your everything. He knows what you like and how you like it. He seems to know everything and the thought of letting him go aches your heart and constraints your throat with a sob you wouldn't dare to let out. You want him to be completely yours.

And these thoughts turn you desperate. They force you to make the kiss deeper, to lick his lips and bite them down, to gulp down every sigh and whimper that comes out of him and make them your own. To make him yours.

Your eyes flutter shut, taking in the way his mouth moves over yours, arching further into him. You groan into his mouth and his grip on your back tightens instantly.

“I want you so much, Minho,” you whimper against him after your lips part from his. You lick your lips and gaze at him with your partially closed eyes. “So fucking much.”

“Then, have me. Take me,” Minho purrs against your exposed skin. In a minute, he pulls the oversized hoodie over you, leaving you in just your undergarments as he discards it to the side. His mouth moves over the skin above your breasts and his hand traces the bra you are wearing. He gazes at it and mumbles before latching his mouth back on your skin, “You are so fucking beautiful. Always have been.”

You gleam in pride and your body arches at the contact of his mouth on your skin. Your hands are on the side of his face as you pull him away.

“Can I?”

“Have me? Yes. Completely,” he smiles. He wonders if you are confident. That's all that he hopes when you look at him so unsure and so doubtingly.

You wet your lips again quickly, your breath coming out in hot puffs of air. Your hands immediately rush to his top, roughly pushing it above. Minho helps you out and pulls it completely away. You are blinded by the passion burning inside of you, your hands eager to explore and touch every expanse of his glowing skin. You want to touch, feel, have a complete experience. You want Minho to remind you of everything you are missing out on.

Your lips attack his neck in a hurry, all rough and passionate on his tender, soft skin, blooming red roses that turn purple against it. You repeat your actions till he’s softly moaning out your name, almost purring them out that you feel yourself becoming slicker. His hands on your back pull you closer and into him so that you won’t stop tainting his flesh and slowly, his soul, in the best ways possible.

Minho whines and sighs and grunts for you. He doesn't hold himself back as his lips leave appreciation for who you are. He closes his eyes as he parts his lips to whimper out your name with every new thing you find that excites him and it drives you absolutely insane.

You know you should not but you can’t stop wondering how he would sound like as you fuck him hard, rock on his cock to milk his orgasm, make him beg not to stop. You desperately want to break him and draw all these nice sounds out of him, but you know it would most probably be the other way round. Minho allows you to take control occasionally but you know he wants the lead. He wants to be the one to break you apart and pull you back together.

He pulls back from you, his hands leaving your back and resting on either of your sides. Minho's dark hair brushes over his crescent lidded eyes and nearly shields the hungry, desperate gaze of them. His hand plays with the strap of your panties as his gaze flickers between affection and lust. He cocks his head to the side before asking, “You do want this, right?”

You nod, hoping it would be enough and that he would resume.

“I need to hear you say it out loud, baby,” he firmly says and you gulp.

“Yes, yes. Minho, fuck, I want this. I need this,” you whine, your eyes glassy, as you grip his forearm to lift yourself up and grate and move against the evident bulge on his jeans.

Minho merely needs that verbal confirmation. He pulls away your panties, resting on your hips and you groan. Still hovering above you and his hands over your pubic mound, his fingers trail lower and you tug at your lower lip in anticipation. Easily, he finds your clit, and begins to rub in slow, languid, lazy motion, up and down, waiting for the moan he so loves to hear from you to spill from your mouth. He grins when he hears those little whimpers and you feel your legs lose mobility from the pleasure he brings you with just a flick of his finger.

Your back slightly arches off the soft mattress upon the bed when his finger leaves your clit to draw a line up your wet slit, collecting as much of your arousal as he can before slipping his glistening fingers out to admire them in the light. Your cheeks taint pink in embarrassment.

“Fuck,” Minho moans, taking his coated finger into his mouth to suck your juices from it. His eyes flutter shut as if he’s tasting the sweetest aphrodisiac ever known and your lips part at this sight. Lee Minho looks irresistible and you want him, completely.

“God,” he groans. Minho slides himself down your body until he’s in level with your pussy. His eyes gazed at it in sheer adoration and your hand slapped against your mouth. He takes two fingers to spread your lips apart for a better view. “You’re dripping, baby girl.”

You wail as he drags a finger up and down your slit, playfully teasing your fold, making you whine his name out loud. The way you plead for him, beg for him, grind down on his teasing fingers, all set a fire inside you. This has been what you had been craving for so long. The ability of this man to cloud your thoughts and set your body on fire makes you yearn for him even more.

“Minho,” you cry out, whimpering underneath him. “Fingers. I need you. Please, Minho.”

You gasp, your voice airy, when the tip of his finger tentatively slips into you while your fingers dig at his shoulders between your thighs. “Minho, I want you. I just really want you. I need to feel you. Please.”

He drags his finger out of you before you clutch onto him, feeling the need to be overwhelmed. He presses his thumb on your clit and a whimper leaves your mouth.

“Minho.” And he slides his digit in again almost as if on cue. He pumps his finger in and out of you as his thumb harshly rubs circles on your clit. Your hand leaves your mouth and grabs your hair as the other digs further into his shoulder.

His mouth leaves hot air against the skin covering your acetabulum and you shudder. His lips graze from there till your thigh before biting on them, sucking them deliriously and leaving you as a whimpering mess.

“Minho, fuck!” You scream, your fingers grabbing your hair to hold control of your body.

“That's it, baby,” he says against the skin of your thighs. “How I've wanted those beautiful lips to scream out my name from when I've felt them.”

Minho adds another finger and your eyes are screwed shut as he curls them within you and you gasp at the feeling of being widened. You are elated and you feel your arousal leaking down your thighs. He rubs your inside and your clitoris faster and you push your hips towards him, moving with his pace. Minho is also leaving beautiful purple marks in a trail on your thigh and you gape in awe.

You find it all too much. Your emotions are all over the place and your hormones rise up. The movement of his fingers inside you and around your clit, his lips attacking your erogenous spots, kissing, biting and licking short stripes on them. It finally gets to you and you scream his name out in pleasure. Your first orgasm comes crashing down upon you, blinding you. You release all over his fingers and Minho helps you ride out your high as he drags his finger repeatedly but this time, slower than what had been.

Your head lifts up and hits the pillow slightly as it tilts away. Minho moves upwards, hovering over your face and smiles. You smile back. You are so happy and you do not know how to put it into words.

“Minho?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks?”

“For what?” He looks at you quizzically.

“That was my first orgasm in months now that wasn't brought about by my own fingers,” you smile wearily and Minho leans forwards and kisses your forehead.

"Should have come to me," he laughs.

"Didn't know if I'd be ruining our friendship."

"Pfft," he scoffs, before kissing you again, his lips gliding against yours and piecing in as if they were always meant to be against yours. "I've been in love with you forever."

"Took me a while to know my own feelings," you mumbles. “Also,” you continue, hoping he listens to your request. “Can I . . . ride you?”

Minho is stunned. There are so many things about you that stuns him and maybe it's the way you try to take control that make you look so much hotter before his eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you plead. “If that is not a bother to you.”

“Why would it? Your wish is my command, but only for this night. Next time, my love, we do this my way,” he teases and winks and your core throbs at his words.

Minho pulls himself away from your body, pulling his shirt over his head and his denim down and away. As he flings his clothes aside and relaxes against the mattress, his cock springs free against his stomach, leaking with milky precum. You sit up beside the space Minho has taken over and watch him and his cock deliriously and lustfully.

You sit up, crawling over to straddle his lap, nervousness setting into your stomach. You’re really doing this. You gulp and swallow the saliva as you look at Minho, whose gaze gives you comfort and confidence. The muscles in your arm stiffens as you grip his shoulder for stability and Minho notices.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you, sensing your reluctance and worry. He pushes back the stray hair falling over your eyes. “You're doing wonderful, babygirl. You are finally all mine. What a pretty girl and all to myself now."

You nod, biting down on your lower lip, and tugging at it harshly, cheeks heating up at his words, arousal gushing out as you look down before aligning with his cock. You want this. You needed this release.

As your folds, dripping with thick, sticky arousal, brush the tip of his hardened cock, you feel a shudder run down your spine. You instinctively allow yourself to lower further, taking the rest of him in you swiftly with the help of your arousal. Sinking down around his dick and feeling him fully wrapped around your clutching walls has you moaning out his name, gasping and panting for air, “Fuck, Minho.”

You rock your hips into him, trying this as you picture it to be, already finding yourself tightening and clenching around his thick length. He fills you up so nicely, stuffing you perfectly full and you salivate. Your lips parts and you find your hips moving on their own accord.

As much as Minho wants to give you complete power over this, it isn't like him and he wishes he could be better. Minho takes your hips in his hands, taking control of your movements to raise you up, leaving you empty and whining. You clench around nothing but air and your own walls, desperate to sink back down. “Minho,” you whine, your lower lip puckers forwards and you feel sad.

As his hand grip around your hips to get a better hold, he slams you back down on his cock, hard, causing you to scream. “Minho, ah!”

He continuously guides you in a rhythmic movement, throwing his head back into his pillows and groaning. You are glad he is helping you out because you know you could not have done it on your own after having just ridden out your high.

The sheen of sweat glistening on his chest catches your eye as he pants. The way his eyes clenched shut and his mouth hangs open with pleasure only makes you move faster around his cock. The sight before you makes you want to see him fucked out further. You want him to crumble under you because of you.

You ride him, bouncing on his dick and clenching when you feel yourself reaching your climax for the second time that night. Minho’s finger moves down and slips between your sweat soaked bodies to rub your clit, pushing you even further over the edge. Minho knows how to make a woman putty in his hands and you are a living witness of this.

“Are you going to come?” He asks, breathlessly, his voice airy and light, almost floating away. He pulls his head forward to kiss your collarbones, sucking harsh bruises against your skin, continuing further down the existing purple bruises.

“Y-Yes,” you sigh, lacing your fingers through his hair and tugging on the dark strands. “Mhm, fuck, you feel so good, Minho.” You lean forward and the motion causes Minho to whine. You quickly catch it as your lips fall on his. His lips enclose yours and he kisses you slowly and passionately as you move on his cock, lazily.

Words, unfiltered and raw, spill out from your mouth after your lips leave his as you feel the high that is creeping up slowly within you. “Minho, fuck. Oh fuck, you feel so good.”

“Then, come.”

Minho moans against your neck as he feels you, his finger rubbing your clit, “Babygirl, oh fuck. Come all over my cock.”

Minho’s other hand that is not occupied leaves your hip and moves upwards to find their place on your neck. His fingers gently wrap themselves around your neck and his eyes flicker a mischief that makes you wetter than you already are. He presses his fingers against your neck with pressure and you choke. Your mouth opens wide and your tongue falls out slightly resting on your lower lip. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench around Minho’s cock tightly.

Minho learns that your dirty liking for choking is incredibly hot. Seeing you like this is what he knows would get him to come when you are not around. Your fucked out expression as you gasp for air makes Minho plunge into you harder and you choke harder.

A final flick of his finger over your sensitive button and a bit more pressure over your neck are all it takes for your body to flood with pleasure and ecstasy. Your legs tighten around Minho's waist, curling in as you ride out your high for as long as possible, still moving your hips against him. His fingers let go of your neck and you breath loudly, taking in huge gulps of air.

Not long after your undoing, he comes inside you, coating your walls with his seed as you feel his length pulsate within you.

Once your body falls limp against his chest, equally fucked out and panting for air, you feel him going soft inside you. He lifts you up, slowly slipping out of you and gently laying you by his side. His fingers rub small circles on your hips after pulling you closer into him.

“Hey,” you say and smile.

Minho kisses your forehead and then, the peak of your nose, and finally, kisses your lips, softly. It isn't lustful or anything. Just plain passion seeping from him to you. You feel his admiration and an emotion you fear to mistake for love. He pulls away and smiles, “Hey, beautiful.”

He comes closer and licks the side of your neck, where he had wrapped his fingers out. The one fantasy that you are so in love with. He peppers soft kisses around it and mumbles an apology.

“No,” you quickly stop him. “That was everything. I— I really like you." Pausing, the thought crashes your head, post your high and you mumble, "Fuck, I fell in love with my best friend."

You nuzzle into his chest after he pulls back, your arms wrapping around his body as you calm yourself. Minho chuckles into your ear, "Yes, yes. You clearly did. What do we do now?"

"Take responsibility." You mumble as you slowly find yourself feeling sleepy. Your eyes are slowly drooping and your voice lowers in tone, words drifting away almost, “You better take responsibility for my feelings and take care of me.”

“It'd truly be my honour,” Minho mumbles, lifting you slowly to push his one arm beneath your neck. He uses the other hand to push your hair away from your face. Kissing your forehead, lips lingering for a while, he smiles to himself, laughing slightly as he asks you, "Was the schlong good?”

You laugh softly, snuggling into his chest, fist against it as you try to fall asleep, thunderstorms long forgotten. Kissing his chest, you giggle, "Best ever schlong I have ever had, baby. All mine to keep now."

Jisung: can you pick me up? Changbin: this late? Jisung: i just wanted them to confess. not fuck like bunnies. useless fact i learnt today: they are both loud in bed. Changbin: i'm laughing off the bed literally!!! also!!! Jisung: yeah? Changbin: and they were roommates! Jisung: god, they were roommates. 🙄❤️

#stray kids smut #minho smut #lee know smut #skz smut #lee minho smut #minho x reader #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #minho imagines #minho scenarios #lee know scenarios #kpop smut #stray kids imagines #writings.rue

4K notes · View notes