#but. ‘manage expectations’ are you KiDDING me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yutarot · 1 day ago

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cozy. n.jm

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ childhood bff!jaemin, snowboarding au, fwb, sfw

synopsis. you and jaemin have been inseparable since you were children. when you and a few of your friends go on your annual mountain ski trip, the air grows tense when they find out that you and jaemin have been sleeping together. so what happens when an overnight snowstorm extends your trip, bringing a sudden change of plans and a very unlikely guest to your vacation: jaemins crush. will your friendship survive within the cold presence of snow or will it melt away once the sun rises.

wc: 6.8k

warnings. implied sex, suggestive, language, jaemin sucks, miscommunication (sorry), yn is wayy too nice in this

notes — ty to the anon who gave me this idea hehe i immeeediately thought of jaemin so i had to write it. i hope u enjoy this it was fun to write (also ended up being way longer than i expected butttt oh well)

the trip started 4 days ago.

you always loved your winter ski trips. you loved the way the snow glistened under the sun, illuminating the sky line in a crisp peach orange. you loved the way you could become carefree, no worries of college or having to pick up extra shifts at the cafe. it was always perfect, a spirited culmination of a frosty vacation.

like usual, you unpacked at lightning speed, occupying the room directly between jaemin and jisung and opposite chenle. as kids, you and mark used to argue over who got the room that you stay in, it being the only room in the cabin with a double bed, but after many years of relentless fighting, you always managed to beat him.

the five of you have been friends since before you could remember, constant pranks and silliness as kids soon became reliability and comfort as you grow into your late teens. but now that you all attend college together, you’re closer than ever.

admittedly, you’ve always been closer to jaemin than the rest, your childhood homes being next to each other, serving as a reason for you to play out in the street each evening after school. even as you entered high school and eventually college, you stayed close, despite jaemin’s tendencies to sleep around with girls and eventually ghost them soon after.

you would be mad at jaemin’s exploits, but you can’t exactly say that being mad at someone’s past actions is entirely justifiable, especially since his playboy behaviour has recently become less frequent.

the air in the cabin is surprisingly warm, a crisp layer of frost encasing the windows and blocking the breeze of snow as it falls upon the mountain that the cabin rests between. the sky, once blue, is now an iridescent hue of orange, reflecting off the snow on the ground and pulsing through the window and onto the wooden walls around you, making them glow. it is an utterly beautiful place, and you thank chenle’s parents for letting you stay here each winter unsupervised.

as you walk through the walkway and into the main room, you spot chenle upon the sofa, browsing the old vintage tv for any channels that don’t bore him profusely. mark and jaemin are playing a game of chess on the floor, resting themselves upon fluffy white cushions and muttering snarky comments to each other under their breaths. noticing your presence, chenle clears his throat, causing mark to look up at you, and eventually, jaemin to spin his body round in your direction.

“i’m bored.” you say, “that tv looks way too old to function and i don’t know how to play chess.”

chenle speaks first, “well, i mean, maybe if you actually spend some time with us, you might have some fun.”

“sounds like a blast.” you say sarcastically, “i just think we should go out and do something in the snow instead of just being all cooped up in here for the third day in a row.”

“it’s too cold.” jaemin utters, “usually it’s not this bad.”

“and? just put on an extra layer.” you reply, looking to mark for help.

sighing, mark speaks up to agree with you, and with his help, you eventually manage to convince chenle and jaemin to go and wake up jisung, before layering up and grabbing your snowboards from the shed behind the cabin.

as you all walk across the mountain to the ski area, occasionally partaking in a small snowball fight on the way, you hurl yourselves onto the ski lifts.

you sit in between jaemin and mark, ignoring mark’s teasing as you struggle to get yourself seated.

once the lift begins to climb, you feel an immediate sense of calm. you’ve always enjoyed these trips, a moment of relaxation away from home, all with your favourite people. it is true that you wish you could bring your girl friends along, but they all hate the boys with a passion for multiple, various (and valid) reasons, and so, with their permission, you go without them.

lost in your own thoughts, you don’t notice as you suddenly begin to slip from the ski lift, the bar doing absolutely nothing to keep you in place.

“yn?”, you hear jaemin’s voice beside you, a weird sense of distress lining his voice as he quickly grabs a hold of your arm, attempting to lift you back onto the seat.

but it’s no use, the snowboard beneath you weighs you down and you slip from his grasp.

“mark, she’s slipping.” jaemin urges the other boy beside you.

“shit.”

they both try to bring you up, but as you get higher and higher to the top of the slope, the ground begins to find your feet, pulling you down with it.

you stumble before landing upside down into the snow, luckily not sliding anywhere, but unfortunately feeling a sudden frosty chill as piles and piles of snow seep into your clothing and down your back.

noticing your discomfort, jaemin bends down, lifting your face to his and, with a gentle smile, he brushes your snow-covered hair from your face.

“it’s… everywhere.” you shiver.

“everywhere?” jaemin asks.

you roll your eyes. “not the time for jokes.”

it takes you a while to notice mark standing behind jaemin, but when you do, you tell them both to continue on without you and that you’ll find your own way back to the cabin to change your clothes.

nodding after making sure that you’re okay, mark leaves to snowboard down the slope, leaving you and jaemin as you sit, still shaking, covered in ice and snow.

“i’m gonna-“ you say, getting up.

jaemin interrupts. “let me help you.”

“i don’t need help.” you reply.

there is a moment of silence before jaemin speaks again, as if he is choosing his words carefully.

“i know a better way to warm you up.”

your face lines in an expression of shock.

“we promised we wouldn’t do it here.” you say, “what if one of the others see something?”

“they won’t.” he smiles at you before pointing in the direction of the others, all enjoying themselves drifting down the snow, swerving in all kinds of directions.

it doesn’t take much for you to give in. so when you get back to the cabin, eventually changing into some fresh clothes that will eventually be pointless, jaemin turns out to be right.

he does know a way to warm you up.

his request didn’t surprise you, and you’re unsure if the others finding out that you and jaemin have been secretly hooking up for the past year is an all too bad thing. but at the thought of them having a little bit too much fun potentially teasing you both, you decided to keep it on the down-low.

it was never supposed to happen; you and jaemin are best friends. but after jaemin’s vow to stop playing with girls’ hearts and your fresh break up with your ex, you both decided that the logical thing to do is to use each other when you need it. it was simple.

over the past year, you have established 3 main rules for your ‘friends with benefits’ situation. number 1: you and jaemin can both sleep with other people if you so wish, number 2: no feelings are involved, if one person begins to feel anything for the other, then you must break it off. (this one isn’t and never will be a problem for you two, but you need to add it there anyway; you’ve heard the stories about jaemin the ‘serial heartbreaker’, and you definitely don’t want to be a victim of that) and number 3: no sleeping together during the winter ski trip. right now, you are breaking a rule, and neither you, nor jaemin, seem to care. it does scare you a little, however, considering how easily jaemin was willing to break it, and it has you wondering how strong the other rules even are.

after cleaning yourself up, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself and jaemin a hot chocolate, sprinkling far too much powdered chocolate on the whipped cream and having to clear up all your mess soon after. jaemin follows you into the kitchen, pulling his shirt back over his head.

“can i ask you something?” jaemin says, reaching his arm past you to scoop his finger into the whipped cream and swiping it onto your nose. you push him away, watching as he giggles at you frantically wiping the cream off your nose in annoyance.

“sure.” you reply, and he leans on the counter beside you.

“when was the last time you slept with someone else?”

if you say the question doesn’t surprise you, you’d be lying. jaemin knows you can sleep with other people, it’s part of your rules. so why do you feel as though you’re in trouble?

“last saturday. that party on joomi’s street. eric sohn.”

jaemin’s face is unreadable. you continue, “if you’re worried you have competition, i wouldn’t worry. it was just one night.” you laugh.

“oh, i’m not worried.” he replies, “especially after the way you were saying my name back in there.”

his head tilts to the side to point in the direction of your room and you look over on instinct, memories of the past 30 minutes flashing in your mind and causing you to forget what you were even about to say.

but when you look over to the doorway, something else catches your attention.

or someone else.

standing at the front door, snowboard in hand and ski mask pulled down to his chin, stands a mortified, and astonished mark lee.

you freeze up, and no longer from the cold chill of snow.

he has heard everything.

you’re completely fucked.

❆ ❆ ❆

pacing around the kitchen and watching as mark looks between you both, you begin to attempt to redeem yourself.

“look, mark, that wasn’t what it sounded like, me and jaemin would never.”

mark looks at you, skeptical, before turning his attention to jaemin, who stands in the back corner of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed as if none of this is bothering him.

mark looks back at you. “yoooo, i mean, i guess i always knew there was something off about you guys.”

you rush towards him, clutching his shoulders. “i promise you, mark, it’s not like that-”

“we’re fucking.” jaemin finally speaks, and yours and mark’s heads both whip towards him in shock. jaemin shrugs, as if it isn’t a big deal.

“jaemin.” you say sternly, “what are you doin-”

“what? he caught us, there’s no point in denying it.”

“this is unbelievable.” mark chuckles, “i gotta go tell the others.”

“no you don’t.” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm.

he rolls his eyes. “alright, but at least give me details, man. how long? when did it start? why?”

you look to jaemin, not wanting to answer for yourself.

“about a year,” he says, “and why not?”

“why not?!” mark exclaims in disbelief, “i don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re best friends? what if you end up catching-”

“not gonna happen.” says jaemin, “we dont see eachother like that, never will.”

mark only continues to laugh, “this is nuts. you guys haven’t been doing it all weekend, have you? i don’t think i wanna hear it if you guys end up getting busy while we’re all meant to be asleep.”

“nope,” you reply. “this is the first and only time we’ve done it here. we sort of made it a rule so that this wouldn’t happen.”

before you can finish your conversation, chenle walks through the door. “so what wouldn’t happen?” he says, scanning his eyes between yours and jaemin’s lack of outdoor wear compared to mark’s.

“nothing.” you reply.

“nothing?” he asks, studying mark and jaemin’s expressions.

there is a second where no one speaks, but that seems to be enough for chenle, because the next thing he says is: “you guys fucked, didn’t you?”

mark can’t keep in his smile as he tries not to laugh and give it away, but jaemin’s stern expression speaks volumes.

chenle shrugs before taking off his coat and making his way to the fridge, “ehh, was sort of obvious anyways.”

“what?” you exclaim, “how?”

his eyebrow raises as he takes a bite of the donut he had taken out its packet, “jaemin swearing off girls the same time as you breaking up with your ex, you constantly ditching our movie nights to ‘hang out with your cat,’ and jaemin suddenly changing from being an insufferable prick to actually being half nice.” jaemin lets out a laugh at the last comment. “i have more if you want me to continu-“

“thats okay, no thank you,” you speak up, “first of all, jaemin is still an insufferable prick.”

“thanks.” jaemin butts in.

“no problem.” you turn your head to him quickly before you continue, causing the others to laugh. “and secondly, i do actually go to hang out with my cat. i love her.” you say, offended.

“whatever.” chenle replies, a judging expression on his face.

they both took the news a lot better than you thought, so you decide to let them tell jisung, who is undoubtedly the most surprised at the revelation. but jaemin’s silence throughout the whole conversation annoys you. you don’t understand why he was being so quiet about it. but when you hear mark and jaemin whispering amongst themselves while you were meant to be in the shower, your confusion peaked.

“this isn’t like you, man.” it sounded like mark’s voice.

“i know.” jaemin replied.

that’s all you heard.

for the rest of the night, you all wrap yourselves in blankets on the sofa to watch some movie that jisung wanted to watch, the fireplace emitting a radial heat and deep hue of ember, softening you into a state of tiredness, drifting off as your head rests on the hard sofa next to you.

it’s only after you wake up that you realize it is certainly not the sofa that you were lying against, but instead, jaemin’s shoulder.

you hear the melodic birdsong as it fills the air outside, the white of snow lighting up the room. or is it chenle’s hideous singing in the shower that you hear? it’s hard to tell.

breaking yourself from jaemins sleeping grasp, you get up to look out the window. you’re meant to go home today, this is supposed to be your final morning of the trip.

but as you peek your vision out the window, around 3 feet of snow covers the floor all around the cabin, the four wheels of marks camper van not even visible.

“uhm, guys..” you call out, grabbing the attention of a freshly showered chenle, a mid breakfast-making mark, a book occupied jisung and a half asleep jaemin. they all stop their various activities at the urgency in your voice, coming over to you and looking out the window for themselves.

it takes each of them about 5 minutes to process what this means; your trip is going to be extended. you are trapped.

and you may be trapped but yours and jaemins secret is very much free.

it finally hits 3pm and you realise that you have all spent the entire day enveloped in boredom, watching as the snow falls and continues to form on the ground. there is no way all this snow will clear in just a few days.

you are lucky that chenle had brought nearly double the amount of food that you needed originally, meaning all you had to do now was to sit and wait it out.

lounging on the sofa, you listen to the smooth rhythm of chenles jazz vinyl playing on loop across the room. you’re bored, and you can’t even go outside. you can tell the others are bored too, that same expression of ‘i just want to go home now.’ plastered on all of their faces.

but their expressions quickly flip when a knock rattles from the front door.

you all look at each other in question before collectively jumping up in sync, running at inhuman speeds to the door. you were about to be saved, removed from the shackles of dullness and provided passage back home.

being the first to get to the door, you grab a hold of the handle, struggling in attempts to only slightly crack it open to keep the snow outside.

but when you open the door and poke your head through the crack, you’re met with a very familiar face.

hayun. also known as, jaemins long-time ‘secret’ infatuation: his crush.

your mind shatters in disbelief as you pull the door fully open to let the other guys see who it is, no longer caring about the snow as it comes piling in.

all because the look on jaemins face is priceless.

the others all look to him to see what he’s going to say, and unsurprisingly, all he has to say is ‘hi.’ you wouldn’t expect more from him, he’s never spoken a word that exceeds a greeting to her before.

following jaemins poor attempt at an introduction, you take over.

“what are you doing here? are you okay?” you ask, genuine concern for the girl lining your voice.

“well, i was here on a ski trip with my friends but, they all abandoned me.”

“what?” you ask.

“and i remembered seeing a few of your guys’ instagram posts saying you were here so… i thought i’d knock.”

“wow.” mark says, “your friends suck.”

“i know. so, any chance i can stay here? i would go home but the weather isn’t exactly drivable.”

you turn to the rest of your group, concluding the pity in their faces before turning back to hayun. “of course! we don’t have a spare room and the sofa gets cold at night but i have a double bed if you don’t mind sharing.”

“thank you so much!” she grins before stepping inside and pulling you in for a hug. you cringe as you come into contact with the cold casing of her coat, the ice cool against your skin as you try not to push her off of you.

in all honesty, you feel bad for her and you know that jaemin is about to get relentlessly bullied by the rest of the group. this was about to make your extended trip a whole lot more interesting.

it hasn’t been a long time since he developed a crush on hayun, spotting her across the other side of his lecture hall. he always gives you some excuse as to why he’s somehow never gotten a chance to speak to her, so you presume that he’s happy that he finally has. either that or completely terrified. either way, you’re happy for him.

yes, you are. you’re happy for him.

❆ ❆ ❆

a few hours pass as you show hayun around the cabin, making space for her things in your room. letting her unpack, you make your way to the front room, finding jaemin and mark on the sofa, seemingly midway through a conversation.

“oh, don’t let me stop you.” you say, urging them to continue their talk after they cease talking at your arrival.

mark turns back to jaemin. “i think you should go for it, dude, what harm could come out of it, huh?” he says.

you’re curious, “you’re gonna ask her out?” you say to jaemin.

he smirks, “maybe, maybe not.”

somehow, something in your heart doesn’t like the idea of jaemin asking out hayun. you’re not sure if it’s the idea of you and him ending this whole ‘friends with benefits’ situation, or the fact that you’re probably going to have to step back from being his best friend, because, let’s face it, there’s no way she would ever let you stay as close as you now are if they got together.

you slap the idea out of your head; he hasn’t even asked her out yet.

mark notices the internal battle you have with yourself. “something wrong with that, yn?”

if jaemin wasn’t here right now, blocking you from mark by sitting in between you, you one hundred percent would have punched him at that.

jaemin looks over to you, a questioning expression on his face.

“uh.. no…” you reply, apprehensive.

“oh come on, i saw the face you just made. you’re jealous that he’s gonna be fucking someone else, aren’t you?” mark continues.

you don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the truth in marks words and the cold presence of jaemins gaze on you.

“im not jel- “ you begin, but jaemin interrupts you.

“yn.” he says. it’s just your name but it holds so much meaning. “am i not allowed to have a girlfriend?”

“‘course you can.” you reply, shrugging.

mark raises his eyebrow at you and you seriously consider getting up and kicking him.

jaemin continues, “good. it's decided then. i'm gonna ask her out.”

mark pats him on the back, laughing, “good luck, dude.”

you smile in acknowledgement as jaemin thanks mark before chenle comes in, completely changing the subject when he starts complaining about hayun’s infiltration of his ‘well organised fridge.’

you zone out their conversation to reassure yourself that you truly don't care that jaemin was going to try to get close to hayun, but you can't help but feel like you're about to be replaced. you always knew it was going to happen, that one day jaemin would want to settle down with a girl. but you're just so used to his playboy personality that you just never expected it to be so soon.

amongst the endless drill of chatter, you feel a sudden glance in your direction, and as you look up, jaemins eyes suddenly divert away from you, as if he got caught looking. you want to ask him what he wants, but the silence in his demeanour tells you that you shouldn't. it's bittersweet; the end of his situation with you, marks the start of one with hayun. its a trade in which you don't want to be part of, but you fear you have no choice – only time can decide.

the rest of the day went by quickly. maybe it was because of your new addition to the vacation or simply because chenle found a cupboard full of dusty boardgames that you decided to occupy yourselves with. naturally, it was you and mark that beat everyone else at your very long, grueling game of monopoly, but that quickly flipped to jisung when you took your turns at scrabble.

the entire time, you and mark teased jaemin relentlessly, catching glimpses as he (unwilling) took his seat next to hayun, pushed there by chenle and jisung and ending up on her team. you could tell that he was getting annoyed at you both giggling at him, but you didn't care; it only made the entire thing so much more fun.

by the end of the night, it was time to sleep, so you and hayun took your rightful sides of the bed. it isn't the best sleeping situation, but you’d much rather sleep beside her than have to experience mark’s sweaty feet ever again. (that experience was not one that you want to remember.)

before you can switch the light off, though, you hear hayun sit up.

“wait, yn, before we sleep…” she says, and you look at her expectantly, “can i ask you something?”

“sure.” you reply.

she looks down, fiddling with her fingers. “Its jaemin. is he.. single?”

as if you hadn't heard her, you take a pause, processing her question.

“yeah.” you let a laugh slip, “why? you like him?”

at your question, she giggles and her voice makes you cringe a little.

“yes. a lot actually, it's sort of the reason why im here..”

you furrow your brow. “what do you mean?”

she takes a deep breath. “my friends never kicked me out.. i just saw that you guys were also here and, well, i thought it'd be a chance for me to get to know him.”

it's as if your ears are deceiving you, the late night tiredness of the conversation urging you to hallucinate. but it's all real, every last word of it.

“wait, so, you lied?.. to get us to let you stay?”

she nods, and you don't know if you should pity her or hate her guts.

because you know what it's like to be in love; you know what it's like to like someone so much to the point where you allow yourself to do stupid things. you understand.

but that doesnt mean that you like her for it.

“i know you probably think i'm a horrible person.” she says.

“no.. no, not at all.” you reply, and she smiles at your words.

“thanks yn.”

you laugh back, “so, jaemin huh?”

she looks back down at her fingers, “yeah.. embarrassing right?”

you smile, not just to her, but to yourself.

“totally.”

❆ ❆ ❆

all night, you debate with yourself over what hayun had told you. on one hand, you can't agree with what she did: lying like that. but her crush on him means that jaemin would be happy, and as his best friend, you can't take that away from him. therefore, amongst your deep pool of thought, her confession swimming in the depths of your mind, you decide that the best thing for you to do, is to hold off telling him that she lied; not only would it ruin their chances of getting together, but therefore, jaemin would only be upset that he never got the chance.

but just because you can't tell jaemin, doesn't mean you can't tell mark.

“i really don't know what to think about her.” you say, standing in the kitchen over three pans of eggs. mark had asked you to have the task of cooking them, resorting to focus on the rest of the group's breakfast. you know it's because he can't cook eggs to save his life, but he'll never admit that.

“honestly,” he replies, “who cares if she likes jaemin? she’s a sneaky little liar.”

you laugh, “i don't know, mark. maybe she's just really in love with him.”

“i’m not so sure about that. how could anyone ever be in love with someone who wears a hoodie saying ‘orgasm donor’ in public.”

you roll your eyes and mark continues, “well, i guess we all know who he's donating to now..”

you slap him around the arm, causing him to cackle at your rash response.

“anyways,’ he continues, “i wont tell jaemin about it if you don't want me to.”

you nod, “thanks, mark. oh, and you're burning the bacon by the way.”

“oh shit.”

❆ ❆ ❆

deciding that the weather still wasnt good enough to attempt to make the journey home, you all decided to stay another day. although the day was full of indiscriminate party games and full fledged boredom, you somehow managed to make it through to nightfall.

you’re nearly drifting off to sleep when you hear a tap at the door of your’s and hayun’s room. turning over to see hayun fast asleep, you get up to see who’s there, wondering what idiot buffoon decided to wake you up at 4 o’clock in the morning.

by means of absolutely no surprise, it’s a disheveled jaemin, hair sticking up in about seven different directions and a crumpled tshirt that rises ever so slightly above his pyjama pants waistline, exposing skin that you do not have the energy to be fawning over. although, that’s exactly what you’re doing.

assuming that he’s here to finally break the news to hayun in some twisted, sensual late night confession, you turn your back to jaemin to call her name. in noticing what you’re about to do, jaemin reaches an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to him that the palm of his other hand can cover your mouth.

“will you shut up?” you don't need to see his face to know he's rolling his eyes, “this isn't exactly something i want her to see.”

oh.

he lets go of you, spinning you round to face him by your shoulders. he’s done this before: knocking on your door in the dead of night when he needs you. but you never expected him to do it here. not after your conversation with mark a few days ago, and certainly not whilst his crush was staying in your room. it all seems so bizarre.

but you weren't going to say no.

❆ ❆ ❆

the next morning, you realise that you had completely and utterly fucked up.

the warmth of jaemin next to you remains, his arm slung lazily over the front of your stomach. you expect to open your eyes to jaemins ceiling back at home, but to much avail, you are very much still on vacation.

and you had four pairs of eyes staring down on you both to prove that.

you jump out of jaemin’s hold immediately, causing him to slowly stir before mumbling something incoherent into the sheets. when he finally realises the situation you’re in, he takes the pillow beside his head, pushing it into his face.

“you promised you wouldn't do it here, man.” mark starts. but your focus isn't on him, it's on hayun.

and she's livid.

you turn the attention of your words to her. “im sorry. i should have told you.”

jaemin finally gets up, picking up his discarded shirt off the ground and pulling it over his head before sitting back on the end of the bed.

hayun eyes him for any form of an apologetic sense, but he gives off nothing, and you fear this only makes her angrier.

your fear is proven correct when she suddenly snaps at you, “you knew i liked him and you still went and did this behind my back?”

at her words, the mood in the room suddenly shifts. what was an atmosphere of laughter and mischief at them catching you and jaemin together, is now suddenly a room of tension, a room that you no longer want to be in.

but it's jaemins reaction that formulates the world's most unfortunate predicament.

his head turns to you, a look of disappointment and what seems to be hurt, plastered on his face. “she likes me? and you hid it from me?”

you don't know what else to say, so you just tell him the truth. “yes, but it's not that simpl-”

“i don't care, yn.” he gets up, pushing past chenle to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him.

fuck. you’ve messed up.

but one thing is nagging at you: jaemin seems to care far more about the fact that you hid the truth from him than what the truth actually entailed. you tell yourself he’s probably just embarrassed. either that or just completely and utterly in denial about it. either way, he’s acting strange; he should be happy, not angry.

the entire day, jaemin didn’t utter a single word to you. as for hayun, she had been hidden away in your room, not speaking to a single person and avoiding any opportunity to accidentally bump into you. you did feel bad, you should have told her about it the second that she confessed her feelings for jaemin to you. but you had assumed from jaemin’s previous conversation with you, that you were calling it off, jaemin seeming pretty aware about the fact that she was now here. how were you supposed to predict him rocking up to your room at 4am?

anyhow, you spent the day with mark, discussing the ending of titanic and eating way too much chocolate to be healthy. when night came once more, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to go back to your room, scared about facing the wrath of the girl who resided in it. instead, after washing up in the bathroom, you make your way to the sofa in the front room.

your actions are halted when you hear voices coming from the other side of jaemin’s door. you know you shouldn't eavesdrop on a private conversation, but you can’t help yourself.

you register the second voice as mark as you get close enough to hear them clearer, just enough until you can hear what they're saying.

your heart hurts in your chest when you do.

“i'm still going to ask her out, even with things the way they are.” you hear jaemin whisper.

it's like a sudden shot to the chest. this is exactly what you feared from the very beginning, this is exactly what you trusted jaemin enough not to do.

he’s choosing her over his best friend; he’s choosing her over you.

trying to remain as quiet as possible, you continue your journey to the sofa, pain causing you to wince with every footstep – he's leaving you behind.

as you lie on the sofa, the chill air of the cabin surrounding you despite the presence of the fireplace, forcing you to wrap the blanket around you tighter, you struggle to bring yourself to sleep. but when you hear footsteps from the kitchen, you peek your head over the back of the sofa to see who’s there.

at your movement, the culprit looks up from their snack-making and their eyes meet yours.

“jaemin?” you whisper, “why are you awake?”

“hungry.” he turns back, working on spreading the peanut butter onto his bagel. “what are you doing sleeping out here? it's way too cold.”

you stand up, making your way to the kitchen to stand behind him, blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you shiver from the frost. “i don’t think hayun likes me right now.” you say.

jaemin turns to face you, biting into his bagel. “i wonder why.” he says sarcastically, mouth half-full. you hate to admit it, but he looks incredibly alluring, he always does in the middle of the night.

you hate the fact that he’s acting this way with you, dismissive and persistent, but he has every right, you hid so much from him, and you hurt him in the process.

you’re at war with yourself, but in all honesty you know that you were in the wrong; for your friendship to work, you need to tell him everything. everything.

“actually,” you start, taking a deep breath, “there’s something you don't know.”

jaemin’s interest in the conversation suddenly spikes, looking for you to continue.

“hayun… she.. wasn’t actually abandoned by her friends.”

“what?”

“the night she told me she liked you, she also told me that she ditched her friends because she saw that we were here. she lied about them kicking her out so that we would feel bad and let her stay, so that then she could finally get her chance to talk to you.” you pause, attempting to read jaemin’s face but failing, getting nothing from his expression. “i should have told you, but i didn't want you to get hurt. instead… i did exactly that. i'm sorry, jaemin, really.”

when you finish speaking, you notice as jaemin’s lips slightly curl into a smile before dropping back to his cold demeanor, and it makes you question whether you really saw it or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

“yn..” he trails off, whatever he wants to say interrupted by your sudden panic in not wanting to embarrassing yourself.

you ramble, scared that he won't accept your apology. “but like you said to mark earlier, if you still want to ask her out, that's fin-”

“wait, what?” jaemin says, moving from his position leaning against the counter to stand upright.

“i, um, heard you and mark talking earlier about how you were still going to ask her out despite everything..” you say.

jaemin laughs to himself and you grow confused. “oh, yn.” he says.

“what? what’s so funny?”

“you never did get my hints, did you.”

your heart freezes in your throat, the cold weather no longer chilling you but instead the bitter taste of jaemin’s words as they formulate in your brain.

he continues, noticing your confusion. “it was never her that i had a crush on. it was never her that i was planning to ask out.”

you’re struggling to breath, each intake of oxygen getting caught in your chest.

“yeah, i thought she was kinda pretty when i first saw her across my lecture a few months ago, but that was long before i fell for who i really wanted.” he smiles, inching closer to you. “and after everyone found out that i was sleeping with you, i decided that there was no longer an excuse for me to hide my feelings.” he takes a hold of your hand, looking down at it as he plays with your fingers. “i was starting to get pretty pissed that you wouldn’t pick up any of my hints, you know? you can’t even imagined how embarrassed i was to find out that it was because you were trying to play cupid for me and someone else.”

your mind is vacant, filled with the epiphany of his words as they resonate in your head, playing a tune of melancholic rhythm as it twists into an allegro.

“but… the rule.” you say.

jaemin chuckles, “i think we stopped caring about those rules a while ago, yn. i know i did. ”

you’re no longer cold, jaemins warmth radiating against you like the blissful aura of a flame, attracting you and drawing you closer.

it was then that you realised that you haven't said anything to equate his long speech, but words can do nothing to describe the way that you’re feeling. its as if someone had approached you with a mirror, brutally displaying each of your own hidden thoughts and projecting them back at you. because every single word that jaemin muttered, you found deep within yourself. it all clicks, perfectly and irrevocably, into place. your jealousy, your embarrassment, your stupidity.

your love.

instead of attempting to sum up all of your feelings into words, you do the one thing that will live up to the emotions that reside within you. taking not a single moment to prepare yourself, you lean closer to him, his eyes finding your lips. you nod, its small but the gesture means so much. it's an agreement, a sealing of mutual understanding. it's slow and it's incredibly gentle as his lips greet yours, soft in a way unlike ever before. kisses between you and jaemin were always the result of lust, of stupidity. but now, it's the result of something far greater.

it’s love.

❆ ❆ ❆

when the sun rises above the horizon, you leap from jaemin’s bed, him giggling at your eagerness.

“oh my god, it's finally clear!!” you yell, waking up each of the boys with your burst of excitement. you could finally go home.

the morning consisted of three major revelations. one: you all contacting hayun’s friends, watching as they dragged her into their car to drive her home. two: discovering that chenle had only showered once throughout the entire holiday (you all started placing bids as to who gets to not sit next to him on the journey back.) and three: witnessing the boys’ reactions to your’s and jaemins new secret.

“i knew you’d do it, dude.” mark said, attempting to fist bump jaemin in the most cringe-worthy interaction you’ve ever seen in your life. jisung and chenle however, were completely baffled, and it took about thirty minutes of explaining for them to understand that it was you that jaemin had a crush on, and not hayun. you’re still convinced that jisung doesn't understand.

once you had all packed your things, you grabbed your suitcases, standing in the porch as chenle locked the front door for the final time.

“im going to miss this place.” mark says, exaggerating an act of sadness as he clutches his chest.

“im not,” chenle replies, “i’ve never been so bored in my entire fucking life.”

“it’s been fun.” you say, smiling.

jaemin’s voice comes from next to you. “eh, could have been better.”

you turn to him in offence.

he continues, “i'm just saying, i never got to actually snowboard.”

“are you suggesting what i think you’re suggesting…?” mark replies, looking around the group and meeting similar grins and looks of hopefulness.

jaemin shrugs, “i dont know, am i?”

as if on cue, you all drop your suitcases in the snow, laughter and coils of happiness springing between you as you run to the shed behind the cabin for one last time.

no other winter ski trip ever got near to living up to that one.

not even close.

#nct #nct fanfic #nct dream #jaemin nct #jaemin x reader #nct jaemin #jaemin fanfic #na jaemin #jaemin

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days ago

Text

Try, Try, Try 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics including adultery and trying to conceive. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don't think you'll ever be enough for him.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A single line. Negative. You cringe as you hold the plastic stick over the bin in disappointment. There’s a knock at the door.

“Well,” Andy’s voice rumbles through.

You drop the test into the garbage and exhale softly, “not this time.”

You crank on the faucet and rinse off your hands. The door opens from the other side and Andy meets your eye in the mirror. You can see the same disappointment in him. He even looks angry.

“You been taking your vitamins?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you nod to the pillow box, each day a separate compartment, filled with the multicolor tablets. “I’m off coffee finally. No drinking. I gave Lisa a bunch of wine.”

Your husband sighs, “you were ovulating. You said so.”

“Andy,” you shrug. “It just takes time.”

“Three years,” he says. “Yeah, a long time.”

You wince at his disapproval. You shut off the tap and dry your hands. “I know. I’m trying.”

“We’re both trying,” he insists. “Even on the days I’m tired, from working, when all I wanna do is nothing, I try. All according to your calendar. Are you sure you’re doing it right?”

“What?” You face him. “Yeah, it’s an app and the tests--”

“I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t trying as hard as me. Or maybe you’re hiding something.”

His accusation is like a slap in the face. You blink furiously and shake your head, “what are you saying?”

“You went to the OBGYN last week. How do I know you didn’t get pills? Or an insert?”

“Huh?” You grimace. You got your IUD out the month before the wedding; because he asked. It wasn’t fun or easy. “Why--”

“Cold feet? I mean, you leave dishes in the sink, maybe you’re not ready for a kid.”

Your lashes flutter as your eyes burn. You leave a glass or two in the sink but the place isn’t a sty. You heave and swallow down the hurt. He’s frustrated. That’s it.

“I’m ready. I’ve been just as ready as you,” you croak.

“Hm, well, maybe you should book another appointment. Get a referral and figure out what’s wrong with you.”

“What’s wrong--”

“There are options. In vitro. Surrogate,” he crosses his arms and leans on the door frame, “I’m not getting any younger. Neither are you.”

You want to say that it could be him. That you’re not necessarily the problem but you can’t be entirely sure of that. You sniffle, “Andy, I want it just as bad. I understand that it’s hard but you don’t have to be mean.”

“Cecilia and Mark started trying last year and she’s about to pop,” he retorts. “And Timothy, he’s older than I am and he’s got twins.”

“Andy,” you plead. “You’re acting like this is some conspiracy.”

He looks away as if to suggest that’s possible. You stagger with hurt. His mom always accused you of being a gold digger. Does he believe you? He’s the one who told you to quit your job and stay home.

He clears his throat and his eyes flick over sharply, “almost forgot. Found a cooking course for you. Down at the Elmwood.”

“A cooking... what?”

“Mom suggested it. Said it could help with everything. Make it more manageable if you know what you’re doing.” He drops his hands to his hips.

“But... you like my cooking.”

“Honey, you cook out of cans and the freezer. It’s something but if we’re going to have a little one, you need to start making more organic meals. Processed foods are awful, especially if you’re going to be breastfeeding,” he girds.

Your heart sinks even further. You just can’t do anything right. Not since he put that ring on your finger. You’ve let him down in so many ways. You can’t give him a baby, you can’t cook what he likes, and last night he said you were too dry. Not your fault when he doesn’t offer any foreplay.

“It will be fun too,” he offers. “I’m sure you’ll make some friends. Maybe some who can give you good advice... moms.”

You restrain the flinch and nod. “Sure, probably will be. I guess... learning new things is good.”

“Sure it will be, honey,” he shoves away from the wall and comes closer. “Look, it’s not that bad, alright?” He brushes his hand over your hip and along your lower back. He turns you to face him, “we can try again. Before work?”

He pulls you against him and you have to resist tearing away. You’re not mad. You’re hurt. Why can’t he ever tell you what you do right?

“Sure,” you run your hands up his white tee shirt.

“Mm, when’s the last time we were spontaneous?” He purrs as his attitude shifts entirely. “Come on, get on the counter. Just like old times.”

Your cheeks sear at the memory. When you were his law clerk, it was so exciting. Your little rendezvous, the under the desk fun. Now it’s so much pressure. Now he really feels like your boss.

He backs you up and you brace the counter. He helps you up and pushes between your knees. You gasp as he steps between them and pulls down the straps of your nightie. A shiver speckles goosebumps across your chest as he bends to bury his face.

You clasp the back of his head as he fondles one tit in his hand and latches onto the other. He groans as he teethes at you and sucks as he pulls back, stretching your nipple until it pops free. He looks up at you and purrs.

“You know, when you’re expecting, those are gonna be bigger,” he stands and you hide your disappointment. No foreplay. Again. “I can’t wait.”

He spreads your knees and pulls you so your pelvis is curled. He pushes down the elastic of his boxers as he slides you closer to the edge. He grabs your shoulder, pushing you back against the mirror as he guides himself along your cunt.

He growls as he pushes inside of you, rocking until he finds his way in. He grunts and snaps his hips as you whine. It scrapes dryly as you’re unprepared for his suddenness. You brace his forearm and grit down on the pain.

“You’re dry again,” he snarls and thrusts.

You rasp, “sorry, I’m trying.”

You reach down to your clit and he swats your hand away. He snags your wrists and brings them above your head. He pins them to the mirror and rams in harder. You whimper and curl your legs around him.

“Ah, Andy--”

“Yeah, you like it, don’t you? Like how big I am?” He pounds into you without patient. “Want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

You gulp and gasp around his raw intrusion. He squeezes your wrists until your fingers throb and you notice how he watches himself in the mirror, almost entirely unconcerned with your presence. You turn your head down and bite your lip as he uses you. You just need him to get off and then you can go cook him a breakfast he won’t he even like.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #defending jacob #drabble #series #marvel #mcu #avengers #try try try

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dunmeshistash · 1 day ago

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ive always wondered if milsiril's overprotectiveness of kabru was less because of infantilisation (although she def like all elves has that problem) and more so out of guilt. she was a captain of the canaries during the Utaya incident I believe and she witnessed what happened and she couldn't stop it. and she left the canaries because of it and took in the kid who was the Only survivor, raised him in extreme comfort so he'd never see the horrors again and didn't want him anywhere near the dungeons! like i think learning self defense for defenses sake would have made her hesitant but she would have obliged but because it was specifically for the dungeons she was so against it. also like he must have had a rough few years dealing with that trauma as well which doubled her protectiveness

I believe it's a mixture of both, I don't think you can really take away the guilt (actually unsure if that's the best word to describe it) nor the race relations from how Milsiril sees Kabru.

I am the Milsiril apologist ™ but the fact she see's Kabru as a child even now is a big part of their relationship, she's a mother that can't grow up (both for being an elf and for her own issues) and that has to cope with her children outgrowing her fast

Putting a read more cause as usual when it's about Milsiril I talk too much

We can see in every way Milsiril acts that she sees Kabru at most as a toddler during his time with her, she's hand feeding him, has him in a room full of toys and talks about him like he's a cute baby.

I think people are too mean about this side of Milsiril tbh. I think it makes her interesting and it's clear (to me at least) that she does her best to provide for her children even if she doesn't truly understands them. Even in that first interaction with Kabru where she's trying to hand feed him they were *already* training with swords beforehand.

Milsiril also talks to Kabru in a way that kinda seems to expect him to understand more than what a small child would like we can see in the AB extra

So her infantilization doesn't extend to underestimating him at least, rather I think that's how she shows affection (which is still bad 😭)

Anyway, about her trauma with the dungeon and guilt (or maybe shame? Fear?), I do think that was one of the motivations for her to take Kabru in as I said in this post (beware I am a Milsiril apologist and I am VERY biased in seeing her in a more positive light, doesn't mean it's true) but I think that side of her manifests in her sudden switches from crybaby mom to ruthless master

Milsiril is very emotionally unstable from what we can see, she's really trying to convince Kabru not to go into dungeons and when tears don't work she switches into training him so hard he'll give up on his own. I've seen people call this her "true colors" or say she was using "crocodile tears" but in my opnion both the tears and the threat are genuine, I don't think it's a planned switch but rather the fact she's unstable to begin with, both the crybaby mom and the scary swords master are her true self.

Anyway! I think both guilt and infantilization are intertwined in her love towards Kabru, I've said this before but she's a flawed caretaker in a world where she does not have the resources to become a better one. She's traumatized she's depressed and she's an elf, but she's the only one (that we know) willing to at least *try* to treat the people she cares for the correct way. If it wasn't for Milsiril Kabru would have been raised by elves like Rin was (and we know that went very bad, they traumatized her), and Mithrun might not have received the proper rehab he needed to go back into the canaries (He might have managed but we see Milsiril put in the effort to help him cope besides being the one to tell him about Utaya)

That is all to say: Milsiril is still flawed!! It's part of what I love about her, and it's the reason so many people dislike her too. I'm saying this cause sometimes when I go on my Milsiril rants I get asks putting down Kabru to raise her up and that's like, very uncomfortable lmao. Even if she did her best he still was the one that to deal with all of her shortfallings while being raised and he's still the one responsible for getting to where he is, she just made is easier than it could have been.

Disclaimer as is usual for my Milsiril posts: I'm a Milsiril fan, my interpretations of her are very charitable because I often see people being way too uncharitable about her. Please read the original material and make up your own interpretation, this posts only contain what I think it's relevant for my point not an objective view of the whole. I've also already made several posts about her and I don't want to keep repeating myself so if you think I glossed over something important that's probably why.

Edit: thinking more about it, maybe rather than feeling guilty herself she might blame "elves" as a whole for the failure in Utaya, it does say she left it "in disgust". It's not that clear how she feels about it.

I still think it's shared trauma though, I don't think it's possible for Milsiril to not have been affected by what happened there and I think it's part of why she doesn't want Kabru to go to dungeons again. But her way to cope is to turn away from it (and blaming "elves" might be part of how she copes) while Kabru's is to face it so it doesn't happen again

#Milsiril #dunmeshi thoughts #dungeon meshi spoilers #putting an extra disclaimer this time cause sometimes I feel like people are reading dungeon meshi thru my blog

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creatur3featur3 · 21 hours ago

Text

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: implications of sex trafficking

A/N: i'll eventually draw a reference for reader's build since i aleady did for Sevika

enjoy my loves

Heavy, that’s what most things that filled Sevika’s mind reminded her of.

Heavy, like the damn boxes she had to carry from one place to the other for Silco- Heavy, like the knowledge of what was happening in the Undercity- Heavy, like her hooves clicking against the concrete paths.

Being a centaur was normal around these parts, well for the most part, it was seen as strange of course but no one spoke poorly of centaurs- to Sevika’s knowledge at least. She had seen a good bit of folks like her, just trying to live their lives, their body always being different from the next person’s. Some young kid could have half of a deer, while a full grown man could have half a bear. It was relatively normal, easy even, which did make Sevika tense to say the least.

She came to a stop outside the bar she usually came to, sighing softly as her hind legs shifted with unease, the muscles twitching here and there. She wasn’t sure why she was so on edge tonight, or any other night, it was just another game of cards or another drink from the bar. Nothing different, just a simple routine.

Good, the unexpected brought problems with it that Sevika really didn’t want to deal with tonight, or for the rest of her life that is- she was comfortable with her little world.

Sevika exhaled sharply through her nose, adjusting the weight of the crates stacked high in her arms before shoving the bar’s door open with her shoulder. The familiar musk of cheap liquor and sweat hit her like a wave, but it was a comfort rather than a deterrent. The place was dimly lit, full of bodies hunched over tables, exchanging coin and hushed murmurs. The usual crowd.

Her hooves clicked against the wooden floor as she made her way to the counter, the bartender giving her a nod before sliding her a drink without asking. Routine. Good. Predictable. She lifted the glass to her lips, the burn of alcohol cutting through the ever-present weight that pressed down on her.

She didn’t bother sitting; stools weren’t exactly built for her kind. Instead, she leaned against the bar, one arm braced against the counter while her tail flicked idly. The weight of eyes on her back was expected, but no one dared to stare too long. Sevika had a reputation, after all.

A sharp laugh broke through the general din of the bar, dragging Sevika’s attention to a table near the back. A game of cards was in full swing, and judging by the tense shoulders and clenched jaws, someone was losing, bad. She considered joining in. She had the coin to waste and a need for distraction but- something held her back.

Or well, the sight of someone.

Sevika’s eye fell on a smaller figure that sat near the table, though the way they sat, like their legs weren’t able to fully rest against the chair. She tried to focus through the haze of smoke, and then she finally saw it-

No, not it- she saw you.

You sat next to a burly man, who was laughing like he had heard the best joke in the world, your spindly little deer legs, one resting over the other– but you didn’t have the back two… just two front deer legs replacing what would’ve been your human legs- you looked uncomfortable, terribly uncomfortable. The way your eyes flickered around the bar like you were sure something would jump out at you, the way your long narrow ears twitched and flicked about- listening to everything. You sure as hell didn’t look like you wanted to be there, that much was clear.

“Alright you old lot!-“ the man you sat next to growled with a smirk, “Whichever of you fellas actually manage to beat me in this round, I’ll throw it my little dress up doll,” He finished, looking over at you with a smirk that screamed he was way to confident for own good. “Give ‘em a smile, pretty girl.” The man purred- your eyes flicked to the ground, ears pinning back before he gave you a forceful nudge.

You nervously looked up, flashed a quick smile and looked back away.

Sevika's eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening as she watched the scene unfold. Her instinct, the one she'd long learned to trust in the dark corners of places like this, surged. The situation reeked of discomfort, the kind of discomfort she knew well—familiar in its dread. But there was something about you, the way you held yourself, the way your eyes darted about the room with tension she could practically feel from where she stood. It was almost like you were trapped.

The man beside you—loud, obnoxious, full of himself—was clearly trying to have his way, and Sevika didn’t like it one bit. Her tail flicked sharply, agitated, her hooves shifting as she eyed him. The last thing someone like you needed was more attention from people like him.

A few of the patrons around the table laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. But Sevika, her muscles tensed and her mind calculating, didn't care about their amusement. She was more concerned about the fact that the man had gotten toocomfortable with the idea that you were a prize for his games, a pawn in his little act.

She exhaled through her nose, her large hands tightening around her drink before she set it down with a little too much force. The bartender shot her a look, but Sevika just gave a shrug. She could take care of herself, but sometimes, there was something about watching others suffer that made her blood boil in a way she couldn’t quite ignore.

Her hooves clicked louder as she approached, her presence undeniable, though she didn't move too quickly. It wasn't about making a scene—it was about making sure the right kind of attention was drawn. The game was still in motion, and Sevika was more than used to walking into places with a certain weight about her. Her reputation was solid—if anyone wanted to question her, they'd have to do it directly.

She stopped just short of the table, looming slightly over you, but not so close that you’d feel more boxed in. Her voice, when it came, was low, calm, yet cold enough to slice through the laughter.

"You might want to lay off," she said to the man with a slow, deliberate drawl. Her words hung in the air, the silence after them thick with something approaching menace. "You don't want to upset the wrong person tonight."

The man blinked, startled by the interruption, then grinned, though the edges of his smile faltered when he realized exactly who had spoken. Sevika’s reputation preceded her, and no one with even an ounce of common sense wanted to challenge her in situations like this.

"You think you can just come in here and—" The man started, but Sevika didn't let him finish. Her gaze snapped down to him, sharp and unwavering, the kind of stare that made most people take a half-step back.

"Try me," she said simply, her tail flicking behind her, her posture unyielding.

The man hesitated, his confidence shrinking, just a little. It wasn't fear that seeped into his expression—no, this was a game to him, and he'd just realized the stakes had changed.

"You're a real piece of work, aren’t you?" He sneered, but there was no real bite to it now.

Sevika didn’t say another word to him. Her eyes moved to you instead, softer now, a quiet understanding crossing her features. "You alright?" she asked, her voice gentler, though still heavy with the weight of her presence. Her tone was genuine, but there was an underlying command in her words. She wasn’t asking for the sake of politeness; she was asking because she-

No, Sevika didn't care, she wasn't supposed to care- you obviously couldn't stand for yourself let alone scare off the creeps that kept you like a little prize- she was just helping you out, simple as that.

Like feeding a stray dog on the street, just helping it survive another day.

“Look Sevika, we're just having a little fun, she doesn't mine, really- don't you, Doll face?” the man sneered, giving you a light tap on the shoulder- you jumped slightly at the contact, skittish, Sevika noted.

“..No.. I don’t really mind…” you whisper, your voice was softer than Sevika has expected, her sharp pointed ears straining to hear you.

Sevika didn’t believe that for a second.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked down at you, watching the way your hands curled into fists on your lap, the way your shoulders hunched in on themselves. The way your eyes refused to meet hers. You were lying, but not in the way most people lied to save their pride. No, this was different. This was a quiet, careful kind of lie, one shaped by fear and necessity. The kind Sevika had seen too many times before.

Her gaze flicked back to the man, who was still smirking, all confidence and arrogance. He thought he had already won this little exchange. He thought she would back down because you weren’t fighting back yourself.

Sevika exhaled slowly, then, without a word, moved. Not fast, not aggressive, just enough. One large, scarred hand landed on the table between them with a dull thud, her fingers curling slightly as if testing the weight of the wood beneath them. The air shifted, thick with the unspoken promise of violence.

The man’s smirk wavered.

“Didn’t sound very convincing,” Sevika murmured, her voice low, even. “Maybe you didn’t hear her right.”

The man scoffed, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his expression now. “Come on, Sevika,” he tried again, laughter creeping back into his tone. “No need to get all tense. It’s just a bit of fun.”

Sevika tilted her head slightly, her dark eye gleaming under the dim bar lights. “That so?” she mused, fingers drumming once against the table. Her tail flicked sharply behind her, a small, subtle movement, but one that carried weight. “Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look like she’s having any fun.”

Silence stretched between them. The other men at the table shifted uncomfortably, their own amusement curdling as the tension in the air became undeniable.

The man’s jaw tightened, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew pushing Sevika further wouldn’t end well for him. Slowly, he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright,” he drawled. “Didn’t know you were feeling all heroic tonight.”

Sevika didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she simply straightened up, her looming presence casting a long shadow over the table. “Didn’t know you were feeling so desperate you had to bet people like coin,” she shot back, voice still calm, still unreadable. But there was steel beneath the words, a warning that cut deeper than any raised fist ever could.

The man huffed out something between a laugh and a scoff, then turned back to his cards as if the entire interaction had been nothing more than an inconvenience. “Whatever. Just trying to liven up the game.”

Sevika didn’t acknowledge him again. Her focus was on you.

She motioned you to get up, her calloused and steady hand, her expression unreadable. “Come on,” she said, not unkindly, but firm. “Let’s go.”

You hesitated. Not because you didn’t want to—Sevika could see it in your eyes, the desperate, quiet yearning for an escape—but because you weren’t sure if you were allowed to. If stepping away was something you could actually do without consequence.

Sevika didn’t rush you. She just stood there, an immovable force against the chaos of the bar.

And then, finally, with a shaky breath, you reached out and took it.

The bar was still filled with murmurs and lingering stares as she led you away, but Sevika ignored them all. She didn’t let go of your hand until you were outside, the cool night air wrapping around the both of you like a much-needed relief.

You seemed to let out a sigh of relief when you stepped out of the bar, your ears relaxing and nub tail shaking. Your legs looked about 4x smaller than Sevika, hell- they probably were.

Sevika’s hooves clicked as she shifted her weight from hoof to hoof, tail flicking as she stared down at you. You glanced around the street, ears perked up, eyes surveying the area around you. You seemed more deer than human to her…

“Hey, Bambi,” Sevika spoke, catching your attention as you turned to look at her, “You should get going, doubt those men won’t leave you alone for long.”

Your face twisted in curious confusion, “But I thought..-“ you started

“I did you a favor, I got you out of there, now you do me the favor of getting out of here,” Sevika stated, muscular legs straining as she turned and started walking away- leaving you… alone.

Sevika’s ear shot up, catching the sound of quick soft steps, hooves- Sevika turned slightly to find you trailing after her.

Great, now she’s got a lost fawn following her around. Just what she needed.

Sevika's patience thinned as the sound of your quick, hesitant steps came from behind her. She knew what this was, what it meant: you didn’t know how to be alone, didn’t understand the value of independence. She could hear the shuffle of your hooves, the soft scuffle of your uneven gait, and it annoyed her—greatly.

Her tail flicked, like an irritated lash, as she continued her stride down the dark, narrow street. There was a cool breeze, but it did little to ease the simmering tension in her chest. She didn’t want to feel responsible for you. That wasn’t her thing. She wasn’t a hero. She was just a damn fixer, someone who made sure things didn’t get too out of hand, someone who didn’t care about anything or anyone outside of what was in her own sphere.

Still, the soft patter of your hooves grew closer. Damn it.

Sevika came to a sharp stop, and without warning, she snapped her front legs out, the powerful muscles in her quadrupedal form propelling them back to deliver a swift, sharp kick toward you. The motion was practiced, quick—designed to push you back, to show you that you needed to keep your distance.

It worked, albeit not as much as Sevika had hoped. Yes you had jumped back, not as far as she had wanted, your reaction much quicker than her action.

“Back off,” she barked, her voice edged with frustration, though it wasn’t angry, just... resigned. "I didn't sign up for a damn pet project, okay?"

Her eyes narrowed, and her tail flicked again, the tip sharp and twitching as she turned slightly to look at you, her gaze firm and unyielding. It wasn’t pity, wasn’t kindness. It was just the harsh reality of what Sevika knew. You had to learn how to stand on your own. The world didn’t care about who you were, what you looked like, or how many legs you had. The world would swallow you whole if you didn’t fight back.

Sevika shifted on her hooves, the muscles in her back and legs tight as she stood, unmoving, waiting for you to either turn around and walk away or face the consequences of following her too closely.

She wasn’t here to take you in, to protect you. She was here to get away from that damn bar and the mess of that night. You were just a distraction. Just like the rest of them.

And yet, she couldn’t help but watch your face, the way you looked so lost. As if you didn’t know what to do next, unsure if her words meant anything. Sevika’s mouth twisted into a thin line. She didn’t care. She really didn’t, never had never would.

“Do you, know where food is…?” You finally asked, though, Sevika had to bend down a bit to even hear your voice.

“Sure, there's a butcher a few streets down,” Sevika said calmly. Your nose scrunched slightly at the mention of butchers, “I… don't eat meat.. can't, actually…”

Sevika paused, her brow furrowing at the unexpected response. She had already half-turned away, ready to keep walking, but your words stopped her. A quiet sigh escaped her lips as she shifted her weight from one hoof to the other, turning back toward you.

"You don’t eat meat?" she echoed, though it wasn't a judgment, just genuine curiosity. She hadn’t expected you to say that. Most people around here didn't have the luxury of being picky, let alone turning away from meat in a place like this. It was survival more than a choice for most. "Then what do you eat?"

You fidgeted, almost uncomfortable under her gaze. The dim light of the street lamps cast shadows across your face, and the vulnerability in your posture was hard to ignore. Your tail twitched nervously, and you seemed to shrink just a little, caught between wanting help and feeling ashamed for asking.

"I... I don't really know where to get vegetables, or... other things," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't really go out much."

Sevika studied you for a moment, something like understanding flickering beneath her usual tough exterior. You weren’t just some meek little thing to pity. You were a person with your own set of struggles, your own way of surviving in a world that clearly didn't care about anyone's comfort.

“Look, there’s a food stall over on the next block," Sevika said, her tone a little softer now, though still matter-of-fact. “They sell things like fruits, breads, and vegetables. Not great, but it'll fill you up if you’re starving.”

She didn’t wait for a response, turning her back to walk again, but her steps slowed slightly, her eyes glancing back toward you. You seemed almost hesitant to follow, like you weren't sure if you'd be accepted at all.

Sevika's lips pressed into a thin line as she exhaled sharply. She didn’t know what kind of mess you were in, but something told her you didn’t need to be left out here on your own, wandering the streets like a lost animal.

Sevika didn't know what she was doing here, she should be home, relaxing, getting ready for tomorrow, but here she was, stood next you as you carefully ate raspberries, your long legs almost touching the ground as you sat in the stool.

You nub tail flicked and wagged time to time, ears perking up here and there, just carefully listening. You seemed the most relaxed she had seen you the whole night just eating.

Sevika leaned against the counter, watching you with a strange sort of detachment. Her arms crossed over her chest as she stood there, eyeing the way you ate, your movements slow, deliberate. There was a certain calm in your posture now, like you weren’t so worried about the world falling in on you. You seemed small—small in a way that made Sevika feel like she had to force herself not to watch too closely. Not to care. She wasn’t in the habit of watching people unwind, especially not after she’d done a favor for someone.

But there you were, sitting on that stool with raspberries stained on your lips, your tail flicking like it had found some fleeting sense of comfort. You looked... normal. Like you weren’t constantly bracing for something bad to happen.

Sevika shifted her weight uncomfortably. The silence between you was filled only by the faint murmur of the stall's noises around you. People moving, talking, the clink of change. It should have felt mundane, but there was something about it that felt different tonight—like her world, the world of toughness and constant motion, was blurring a little.

She hadn’t meant to bring you here, hadn’t meant to stick around to watch you eat. But when you looked up at her between bites, those big doe eyes catching the dim light, she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

“Don’t go making a habit of getting that comfortable,” Sevika finally spoke, her voice rougher than she intended. She didn’t know why she had to say something, but it felt like if she didn’t, she might just keep standing there until her feet fell asleep.

You blinked at her, chewing slowly, then offered a soft, tentative smile. It was one of those smiles that made Sevika wish she could shrug it off, but she couldn’t—because it was too... honest.

“Thanks,” you murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear over the background noise. “It’s nice to not feel... watched.”

Sevika’s jaw clenched for a moment before she relaxed it, her expression hard to read. She didn’t want to have to admit that there was something in your words that made her want to do more—something that scraped against the wall she’d spent so long building around herself.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice softening against her will. “Just don’t go around getting yourself into trouble, alright? I’m not always gonna be here to pull you out.”

You nodded quietly, but Sevika noticed how your shoulders lowered a little, how the tension seemed to slip away from you, piece by piece, with each bite you took. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her—why her mind kept drifting back to the way you looked so unguarded now, so small, so… human, in the best and worst ways.

She shifted uncomfortably again, eyes flicking to the door as if the action might ground her in the reality that this wasn’t her business.

And yet, she stayed.

#sevika x reader #sevika #fanfic #sevika arcane #sevika centaur AU #Doe eyes fic #Spotify

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elvensorceress · 19 hours ago

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history of cinnamon sorrow today. Eddie in Texas trying to talk to Chris 💕

@tizniz @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @monsterrae1 @livinginsunnyhell @rainbow-nerdss @chaosandwolves @singitforthegirls @lemmeaskthedevil @bekkachaos @sunflower-eddiediaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @thelikesofus @blutterlie @smilingbuckley @epicbuddieficrecs @sazanahashi @kejfeblintz @inell @beyourownanchor6 💕

Eddie sits on the steps and waits for Chris to sit with him. He does, but he also just looks out over the front yard and the driveway, staring off into the distance. He doesn’t look at Eddie.

Not that Eddie expects him to. But he thought they were a little further in making up. Which is his mistake. Obviously. He doesn’t know how else to start but to say, “I love you. You know that, right?”

Chris sighs. “Yeah.”

“I missed you a lot.”

Chris makes a noncommittal noise.

Eddie tries differently. “How’s your new school? You like it?

“It’s fine.”

Wow, two whole words. They’re doing really well.

“I don’t want to go back now.” Chris does look at him this time when he says it. “I like it here.”

Eddie takes a slow breath and lets it out so he can remember what it’s like to have air and life and be living. Doesn’t quite manage. But he tries.

It was years and lifetimes ago when Chris wanted to go with him. When they sat here on the porch, exactly like this, and Eddie was sure his son wanted nothing to do with him, didn’t care about being with him, but Chris said, I miss you all the time, and Eddie hugged him and held him, and they left to face the world on their own adventure. Together.

Obviously kids grow up. And everything changes. Eddie just didn’t expect it would be this different.

“I know,” Eddie says with knives in his chest. “That’s okay. That’s why I— You don’t have to leave here. We don’t have to go anywhere. You don’t. I’m going to move.”

Chris looks at him again, but this time like he hasn’t heard correctly. “What? You’re going to— What do you mean?”

“I—” Eddie did tell him. Mostly. It was rushed and he wasn’t sure Chris really listened or heard him when they talked a few weeks ago. It didn’t matter though. Eddie had decided. “I’m moving back. Here. To El Paso. We packed up the house, I have a place I’m renting for now, but I’m looking for a house for— me. For us if you want to be there. If not then, I’ll at least be close by.”

Chris just stares at him. “What do you mean you’re moving back? Why would you do that?”

Eddie would kind of, almost laugh. Except nothing about this is funny. “Because I want to be with you. I want to be part of your life. I know I missed out. On a lot. And I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I can move now. I can be here. I'm not going to waste any more time. If this is what you want and where you want to be, then I’m going to be here. Even if you don’t, if we’re not—”

“Dad, what the hell?”

That’s— Not that Eddie should encourage his fourteen year old to talk that way. But it’s probably fair. It could be worse. And it’s not as if Eddie doesn’t swear.

“You don’t need to be here,” Chris says.

“I know I don’t need to,” but also, Eddie does need to. “I know you don’t need me, but—”

“What do you mean I don’t need you?”

That, Eddie doesn’t have an answer for. If Chris needs him, why is he saying Eddie doesn’t need to be here? Why would Chris need him? Why would anyone? Unless they’re into having their whole life ruined, Eddie isn’t anyone’s first choice.

Except for maybe Buck?

Until Eddie ruins that, too.

#wooooooo fun times today 🫠#buddie wip #wip wednesday #911 #jenwyn wip #fic: the history of cinnamon sorrow #personally I think Christopher Diaz deserves to say the word fuck in front of everyone but maybe that's still to come...

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spencersbabymama · 16 hours ago

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Numbers l Chapter Three

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Disabled OC

Content Warning: Disability, negative self talk, blushing Spencer, talk of bizarre piercing fetish

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Brooke is thrust into work and it's not exactly what she expects.

Taglist: @just-call-me-by-yn @esote-rika

A/n: Thank you all for reading so far! Working on this fic has really made me fall in love with writing again 🩷🩷🩷 Also again, credit to @just-call-me-by-yn for always making my banners! I love you!

Story:

Luckily, Hotch had apparently worked closely with Penelope to explain the adaptive tech I use to run a pc efficiently. So now I was helping her rummage through my backpack. I have to admit watching her pull out various tangled plugs was an entertaining sight. At first I wanted to apologize for not having my equipment more organized, but Penelope was so proud of herself every time she untangled a new wire. It was like a game to her.

While that fiasco was going on, out of the corner of my eye I noticed Spencer dragging his finger down each page of the case file then turning each page about every 15 seconds. His eyes tracked each word at lightning speed. Honestly it looked like when a kid pretends to read to get it over with. I know I should probably just leave him be, but my curiosity outweighed manners. My eyebrows furrow in his direction “Are you really reading that fast?”

His head snapped up to look at me “Hm?” He looked confused at first but after a second he let out a small laugh under his breath like he was a little embarrassed and nodded softly “Yeah…”

My mouth opened to ask obvious follow up questions, like most notably, how on earth is that even humanly possible? But I was quickly cut off.

Spencer cleared his throat before continuing “Actually our conscious minds can process 16 bits of information per second, while our unconscious mind can process 11 million. So to answer your question, yes I really can read this fast.”

There goes my stunned face again and I blinked at the guy for a moment. I wasn’t sure if I should be disturbed, or wildly impressed by this guy’s smarts, I was mostly in awe. He was like a human computer. I like computers, so we’ll probably get along.

My face softened and I giggled softly “Cool.”

That same pink tint creeped across Spencer’s cheeks as he smiled, then went back to reading the case file.

Did this guy ever get complimented? This was the second time he blushed in my direction and I wasn’t sure what I was doing to cause it. Honestly it was kind of… cute in a boyish kind of way.

“Ah ha!” Penelope cheered, making me turn around to see her proudly displaying all my equipment set up.

I smiled and guided my wheelchair up to the desk, making sure everything I would need is plugged in. Although there was probably no need to doubt Penelope, her portion of the desk had three separate monitors she had to run, a few plugs were most likely nothing to her.

Penelope hung my backpack on the back of my wheelchair before taking her seat next to me “Should we take this for a spin?” She grinned.

I smiled back, unable to hide my eagerness to get started. Penelope handed me the small mouse that fits in my hand along with the touchpad keyboard and I signed into my system for the first time.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Snapshots of different message exchanges appear on my screen. It took a little bit of time, but after about an hour, Penelope, Spencer, and I managed to find one common person all the missing women have had contact with. Their username was Hotrod94, if that doesn’t scream man who thinks he’s a gift from God I don’t know what does. The back and forth text exchanges stopped completely within 3 days so the timeline fit. Now us 3 were looking through each conversation for any info we could find that could tell us anything about where these women could be, or who took them.

Each message seemed normal, too normal. It was almost haunting how the person on the other side of the screen could sound so charming. No matter how smart or vigilant these women were, they didn’t have a chance.

“These poor girls had no idea what they were walking into…” Penelope sighed under her breath. I could hear the empathy and hopelessness she was feeling for these women on the screen.

I couldn’t help but feel it myself. It was one thing to talk about it, but looking into the eyes of each woman now, only made the urgency to find them stronger. During training they tell you don’t get emotionally involved, don’t let yourself go there. It will cloud your judgment. Sure, most of that is true, but now that I was here, empathy is what was pushing me.

Spencer stuck his head between us to get a better look at the screens. His eyes squinted like he was trying to focus on something. You didn’t have to look at him hard to see the hamsters running on a wheel in his head. With that brain of his, those hamsters were probably running a marathon at lightning speed. The poor creatures probably don’t know what rest even is.

His face was only a few inches from mine but for some unexplainable reason, he felt closer. It was like my personal bubble doubled in size to fit him inside. My gaze kept flickering in his direction before I realize what I’m doing and my attention goes back to the screen in front of me. That cycle went on about 3 times before Spencer finally spoke.

He used his pen he had been fidgeting with and pointed to one of the sentences sent by the unsub. “He never uses I in a sentence, it’s almost like he's trying to distance himself from each woman.”

Penelope scoffed, “Well if I had a soul and I was manipulating these women anyway, I’d do the same.”

I try not to laugh, but a small snicker slipped through anyways. It was going to be fun sitting next to this sass every day.

I look back at the screen like before, but this time something sticks out. My eyes narrow as I tap a few keys to zoom in on each woman's ear. It can’t be, it’s probably a reach. “Is it just me, or do all these women have double piercings on their ears? That’s probably a coincidence, right?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. I didn’t want my voice to show I wasn’t confident in my findings.

Spencer looks over at my screen before shaking his head “No… that actually makes sense…” His voice trails off like he was still thinking. Then he stood up straight to continue “Actually that could be huge for the profile. There’s a fetish called Piquerism. Essentially it’s when someone feels aroused by piercing another. Most commonly by stabbing or slashing, but it can occur when the person has a simple ear piercing.”

“Ew.” Penelope shudders.

I was still reeling from the way Spencer spit out that information like it was common knowledge. He almost seemed proud of himself for having that in his back pocket.

He clearly didn’t pick up on the creeped out looks on Penelope and I’s face because he continued like nothing happened “Penelope, can you let the team know?”

She shuddered one more time before nodding.

I was too much in my head to pay attention to her calling the team. This was my new reality. Dealing with potential creeps like this was now my usual. I knew it was going to be hard sitting in front of these screens every day and looking at the horrors that dance across them, but now that I was here, I was afraid nightmares were going to find me in my sleep every night. How did these people do it? Maybe I don’t have the stomach for this.

I glanced over at the numerous toys on Penelope’s side of the desk and the dark cloud that was forming over my head started to break up to let light in. The bright colors drowning out the darkness.

“That was- um… A good catch Beven.” Spencer stuttered quietly enough that the call didn’t pick up his voice.

I look up to see him smiling softly. Even though those words seemed shaky, they gave me a surge of confidence. Hearing I did something good from someone as smart as him made me want to give myself a pat on the back. My lips curl into a smile.

I already considered Penelope a friend, but it seemed like I can add Dr. Spencer Reid to that list. Leading up to today I was so nervous how the team would perceive me, wheelchair and all. I was lucky for most of my life I was surrounded by people who didn’t see me as different. My parents, my family, and my friends never made me feel like I was less than. The professional scene always seemed a little daunting though. I knew what it looked like to any bystander, she can barely lift her arms, how is she supposed to be anything else than the greeter at Walmart? I get it, honestly I would probably say the same thing if I was them. Regardless, I knew I had more in me, and I was grateful everyone here saw what I could do, not what I can’t.

“Bevan, can you come with a list of tattoo parlors that also provide piercings in the general area of the abductions?” Hotch’s voice catches my attention through the call system “We’re gonna split up and find out who frequents the most.”

I quickly nodded, giving a “Yes sir.” Before he assigns Penelope a cross checking assignment.

My fingers tap away, narrowing down a list of parlors that aren’t close to the abduction sights. After a minute, I relay the list to Hotch, followed by him thanking me.

Penelope hangs up before giving me a high 5 “Good work Newbie. Someday you might be as fast as yours truly.” She jokes while resting her chin on her hands.

I snicker and shake my head “I appreciate that, but I watch you type and I don’t think I could ever get there.”

“Hm…” Penelope smirks before turning back to her computer screens “You're smart too, Newbie. I am the best.”

Now Spencer and I laugh.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #fangirl #mgg #mathew gray gubler #spencer #reid #fanfiction #fiction #criminal minds fanfic #fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x disabled oc #spencer reid x oc #dr spencer reid #bau team

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