#edit: some of these are reposts but it doesn't matter
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that poll reminded me how much i love huntress so i'm doing some more oupy posting. these are anywhere from a few months to a few years old
#i picked up a pen (art)#huntress (oc)#soo cute my onglydoople😭🥺belyflop. i think shes smiling!#worship crg#i made the 2 dabloons one when she was 2 years old. now she's coming up on 4 i think soon#edit: some of these are reposts but it doesn't matter#so nice you see her twice etc
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repose
based on a request made by @chevroletdean! 🤍
a/n: this is a repost, because i tried to edit the main post when half asleep but my dumb ass deleted it instead 😭
summary: you catch a cold while out on a hunt with dean. you refuse to take it easy once back at the bunker, so he takes matters into his own hands to try and help you recover - even if it means bribing you into finally getting some rest
pairing: dean winchester x female reader
word count: 2.6k+
warnings: some mentions of violence/mutilation in the beginning, established relationship, stubborn reader, reader puts her own health on the back burner, reader doesn't like to feel useless, reader won't take her meds, fluff, a touch of angst, minor swearing, protective dean, worried dean, dean goes full caretaker mode, dean just really loves reader, briefest mention of clothes being taken off, reader gets carried around, more fluff
Dean knew it was a bad idea.
He knew he should’ve tried harder to stop you, but really, what was he supposed to do? The suspect was about to get away, and you were too stubborn in your ways once you set your mind to something. All he could do was watch as you ran out the door, quickly disappearing within the sheets of freezing rain that were falling while he cursed to himself.
His first thought wasn’t a declaration of fear that the suspect might get a drop on you. No, despite your appearance, your skills were rivalled only by those of Sam and Dean themselves; they taught you everything you knew, after all. Instead, shockingly, the first thought to cross his mind was: she’s going to catch a cold.
Hurrying after you, you two easily managed to apprehend the suspect to haul him back to the warehouse for questions, all while Dean grumbled about how you should’ve stayed put and let him deal with it; a rant that only earned him a roll of your eyes in return. You didn’t venture out very far, and while it did feel like you were soaked straight through to the bone, the warehouse was growing closer and would soon offer respite from the downpour - his worrying, like usual, would end up being over nothing.
Yet the chill you were met with once back in the warehouse almost had you regretting your choice, and had it not been for the sickening grin you were given by the douchebag that Dean was currently tying to a rickety chair, you probably would have. You were convinced it was even colder in here than outside; but you refused to let Dean in on that fact.
He didn’t pick up on it right away, focusing solely on extracting the answers that were buried behind the soulless eyes he glared into. He always enjoyed taking his time when it came to things like this, letting the fear and dread settle in their hearts as he threatened to carve into skin or chop off extremities. It was fun, really, and he was enjoying it right up until you decided to pitch in, voicing your own threat of cutting off a very precious body part piece by little piece.
As soon as the words left your mouth, Dean took on a new sense of urgency to get the information you two needed. You could see it in every choice he made: how his pacing quickened, how his voice got darker and tighter while his patience drained away, how he stopped giving warning before his knife dove into flesh.
You knew he was suddenly in a hurry to wrap this all up, but what you didn’t know was why. You didn’t know that when you spoke, Dean heard the waver in your voice, the quiet chatter of your teeth as you shivered from the cold. You didn’t think it was noticeable, but when it came to you, there was nothing Dean wouldn’t notice.
With the increase of effort and decrease of delicacy, it wasn’t much longer until Dean finally got what he needed, and he plunged his knife through skin and muscle one final time before eagerly leading you from the warehouse.
“Wait here,” he requested, gently tugging you back just before you could step outside.
“What, why?” you asked, silently amazed at how warm his palm felt on your arm despite being just as drenched as you were. “We need to finish up.”
“Just wait here,” he repeated, running out into the darkness before you could even reply.
Left confused in his wake, all you could do was stand there and wait for him to return, trying to ignore the way your whole body wanted to tremble in response to the frigid air. You really, really longed for a hot shower right now, and the fact you knew you needed to dispose of this body somewhere out in this storm made tears threaten to spill over onto your still dampened face.
The sight of Baby’s headlights cutting through the curtain of rain was like a breath of fresh air to you, and you yearned to just curl up on her front seat while the heat blasted from the dash.
“One step at a time,” you told yourself. “Take care of the body, then you can warm up on the drive back.”
Dean made it clear he had other plans in mind when he pulled up as close to the door as possible, leaving the engine running as he ran back over to you.
“Heat’s on,” he declared, shaking some excess water from his jacket. “Lock yourself inside, I shouldn’t be too long.”
“Too long doing what?” you asked, totally lost.
He looked just as confused as you were, not understanding what you didn’t understand.
“Getting rid of the body,” he declared after a moment, as though it were completely obvious.
“You’re not doing that alone,” you argued in bewilderment.
“Yes I am,” he argued back.
“Dean-” you wanted to argue some more, but he cut you off by taking your face in his palms.
“Even the screams couldn’t cover up the sound of your knees knockin’ together,” he teased. “Go wait in the car, baby. If you don’t go willingly, I’ll gladly toss you in.”
You had the urge to say no, wanting to be useful and help him, but you backed down when you saw the look in his eyes.
“Fine,” you agreed, sighing in defeat. “But if you’re not back soon, I will be coming to find you,” you warned.
Dean grinned in triumph as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Understood,” he confirmed, guiding you to the car before heading off to carry out his mission.
It wasn’t until a few days later, when you finally made it back to the bunker, that you realized maybe Dean’s worrying hadn’t been over nothing after all. Despite having the heat cranked all the way up in every motel room, those worn down radiators could really only do so much. The piercing winds would seep through the meekly insulated windows, finding you even under the feigned safety of blankets and tight embrace of Dean; not to mention there being no way to avoid the icy blows whenever you made stops along the road. The sheer lack of sleep you got due to rushing back home seemed to be the final nail in the coffin, and your body was too exhausted to fight off the inevitable.
It started as a tickle in your throat, which resulted in you continuously chugging back tea and honey; honey that Cas was extremely thrilled to provide you with. Dean was quick to notice you started doing this, and took it upon himself to bring you a mug whenever you were tied up with Sam and looking into some lore, or tirelessly helping Jack understand his latest discovery of the day.
When the tickle in your throat developed into you having a full blown cough, he bought you your favourite cough drops, keeping an eye on them to make sure you didn’t run out. Though when they seemed to not be enough, he made sure to get you some cough syrup, too.
He did his best to make sure you didn’t do too much, but asking you to take things easy was like asking a baby not to cry. It just wasn’t going to happen. You had the constant need to be productive, to be helpful. Feeling a little under the weather wasn’t going to change that. Him getting you to see a doctor was nothing short of a miracle, and the fact you were just about as stubborn as him was nearly ironic; he would laugh about it if he wasn’t so worried about you.
His worry only magnified tenfold when he went to check on you one night, only to find your room empty. He tried convincing you to let him stay with you like usual, but you didn’t want him to get sick, too. He was really regretting not pushing back on that more, now that he found you in the library, lost in a pile of books; he had to take a breath to compose himself before speaking.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, approaching the table.
“Research,” you croaked, eliciting another coughing fit.
“Research?” he baulked. “For what? And why now?”
You coughed once more, chugging down the rest of your tea before replying. “T’help Sammy. Couldn’sleep anyway,” you sniffled, words jumbled together from congestion.
Dean sighed heavily, taking a seat beside you. “You didn’t even try to sleep, did you?”
The lack of response from you told him everything he needed to know.
“Alright, come on,” he announced, reaching for the book you were reading.
Your reaction time was definitely slower than usual, but you still managed to pull the book out of his reach just in time. “No.”
Knowing it would be a losing battle, and that it would probably cause more harm than good to just toss you over his shoulder and carry you to your room, he got up with a huff and left. You assumed he was angry, and felt a little guilty for upsetting him when he was just looking out for you, but you knew you were fine enough to carry on with this for a while longer.
The last thing you currently expected was for him to return with a bowl of your favourite soup, leftover from when he made some for you earlier, and another large mug of tea, placing them on the free space in front of you before sitting back down.
“If you wanna be helpful, then you’re gonna sit there and eat while I look for whatever the hell it is we’re looking for,” he ordered, easily snatching the book from you.
“Fine,” you mumbled, picking up the spoon. “Bossy,” you added, hoping he didn’t see the smile playing on your lips as you feigned annoyance.
He definitely did, but he kept it to himself as you gave him a cliff notes version of what you were looking into between spoonfuls of soup.
You aren’t sure when it happened, but at some point between finishing the soup and drinking half the tea, you started to drift off; the warmth of his palm on your thigh and comfort of his soft rambling beside you lulling you to sleep.
This time, Dean knew he would win the battle against you, and he carefully took you in his arms and carried you to bed, staying with you until morning.
Days had continued to go by, and you only seemed to be getting worse. Dean didn’t know what else to do and it was driving him mad - he couldn’t stand to see you like this anymore.
He refused to take no as an answer now when it came to him doing things for you, and took over every task you tried to start. He followed you around, practically glued to your side, never letting you lift a finger and being a second pair of eyes when you did any research.
Research that he tried to stop from coming in by threatening to break Sam’s legs if he didn’t quit bothering you for help, only to find out you were doing it of your accord.
Even Jack had decided to stop coming to you for things until you were better, since he knew you’d never let him heal you.
Yet Dean knew it wasn’t enough. He knew you needed to just fucking lay down and rest.
Waking up in the middle of the night to find your side of the bed empty once more, Dean stormed off towards the hub of the bunker as he shouted your name - he didn’t care if he woke everyone up at this point.
He didn’t stop until he found you in the kitchen, frantically cleaning and completely unaware of his presence.
“Baby?” he asked cautiously, hesitantly approaching you.
“'m’not going back t’bed,” you told him, not even looking at him.
“Okay,” he said. “Why not?”
“Too much t’do,” you replied simply, trying to breeze past him.
“Hey, whoa,” he called, gently taking hold of your shoulders. “Look at me.”
“I’m fine,” you said automatically, meeting his gaze after he forced your chin up.
He took note of your distant gaze and pale skin, practically burning under his touch. Suddenly, everything seemed to click into place. “You’re really not, sweetheart,” he determined, tucking your hair behind your ears. “You have a fever. Which means you haven’t even been taking your meds, have you?”
Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at his question, before you averted your gaze in guilt. “No.”
Dean wanted to be mad at you. Well, truthfully, Dean was mad at you. You’ve been doing seemingly everything you could to prevent yourself from recovering, while Dean was trying as hard as he could to help you. He wanted to yell at you, but more importantly, he just wanted to understand.
“Why?” he asked gently, softly running his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks.
“They make me groggy,” you told him.
“You mean they make you sleep,” he corrected, knowing what it was you wouldn’t say. “I don’t understand why you won’t let yourself rest.”
You shrugged helplessly, feeling smaller than ever under his searching gaze. “I don’ like feelin’ useless.”
“You’re not useless, baby. You’re sick,” Dean defended.
“Still,” you said, not having a better argument. “I need t’help.”
“How about we make a deal?” he suggested, fully understanding how it feels to not want to lay around and not help with anything, all while everyone else seemed to scramble around.
“Like?” you wondered, lightly shoving him away so you wouldn’t sneeze on him.
“Like,” he said, feeling more and more like this was the best idea. “You leave this mess as is, go take your medicine, and lay down with me.”
“That’s not a deal,” you argued thickly.
“I didn’t finish!” he said with a laugh. “You do that for me, and that disgustingly cheesy movie you love so much? Not only will I watch it with you from start to finish, but I won’t even make a single joke about it.”
“But what about-”
“Sam and I can handle the mess later,” he said with a sigh, already knowing what you would ask.
“‘kay,” you sniffled. “Then deal.”
“Good,” he grinned, not giving you a chance to change your mind and scooping you off your feet once more.
He made a stop at the bathroom first, so that he could help you freshen up and do your usual nightly routine. Lord knows he watched you do it enough times to know it step by step, and he was never more grateful for that than right now.
Once that was all taken care of, he took you to your room to get you fully settled for the night. He gently peeled off your lounge clothes to slip one of his clean sweatshirts over your head before tucking you into bed. He grabbed you a glass of water so you could take your medicine. He hunted down extra blankets to keep by the bed in case you got cold. He settled in beside you, setting up the movie as you nestled against his chest.
It was barely even twenty minutes in by the time you were sleeping soundly in his arms. Dean smiled to himself, carefully landing a kiss on the top of your head as he carried on with the movie.
He started to doze off about halfway through, and he knew in his heart that if this was the deal he’d have to make every night while you recovered, he’d gladly do so. There was definitely no shortage of these cheesy movies you loved, and there was nothing in the universe that mattered to him more than you and your wellbeing.
Besides, even though he’d never admit, these romcoms you liked really weren’t half bad.
taglist: @roseblue373, @redmaro86, @snowayumi, @iluvdeanwinchester, @winharry, @star-yawnznn, @jc-winchester
if you'd like to be added or removed from this list, please let me know!
(sorry for the double tag on this y'all, i'm stupid af lol)
#spn#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean angst#dean x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean fic#dean fluff#dean fanfiction#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fluff#spn fic#spn fanfic#dean x female!reader#dean x you#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader#jensen ackles#thanks for the request!#my requests#requests open#request
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MY SECRET TALENT — HSR EDITION
• characters — Jing Yuan ; Aventurine ; Dan Heng ; GN Reader
• synopsis — I made this post, stating I can describe any fictional characters cock in detail. As promised, here is the first batch of characters requested.
• tags & warnings — smut, blow jobs, penetrative sex, hand jobs.
• a/n — The first batch is done. Requests are open! I also cut some from Aventurine because I wrote like double the amount for him, but didn’t wanna show favoritism, haha.
Writing Catalog
— JING YUAN
Long - Thick - and Veiny
There isn’t much about Jing Yuan that is disappointing, certainly not his cock. Heavy and thick, he loves nothing more than watching you drag your tongue up the long vein on the underside of his manhood.
His fingers lace in your hair as he guides your ministrations. When you finally take him into your mouth, you can’t help but moan as the salty flavor spreads across your taste buds. Jing Yuan’s eyes glow golden, enraptured by the sight.
Your eyes water as you take as much of him as you can, your fingers coming to wrap around the rest you can’t fit. When he finally comes, it’s creamy and viscous filling your mouth and seeping from your lips, dripping down his length as you struggle to swallow around him.
— AVENTURINE
Average Sized - Curved Upward - Sensitive Tip
Size doesn't matter, and it's not that he’s lacking, but god he knows how to use what he has. Aventurine is a moderate size, but he still has you seeing stars. Together you come undone, as if he were made for you. It doesn’t matter how he takes you, his cock seemingly magic, hitting every spot just right, dragging orgasm after orgasm from your shaking body. The tip of his cock ruts against the swell of your g-spot, the curve allowing him to drag across it in a way that drives you delirious.
Aventurine loves to tease you, swapping his tip against your dripping entrance, sliding it in just enough to hear you moan before pulling out. He could cum just from this, his tip happily nestled within your walls, but he holds out, loving nothing more than hearing you whine for more.
— DAN HENG
Long - Thick At The Base - Reactive Cock
Dan Heng could watch you play with his cock all day. Your fingers wrap around the thick base of his shaft, slowly gliding up until you incircle the tip with your thumb. A smile spreads across your face as you watch the sticky pre-cum life with your digit. Dan Heng was a silent lover, often suppressing his moans into a throaty whimper.
It’s when he watches you lick your thumb—cleaning his essence with a satisfied hum—that his cock twitches in excitement. Even if he doesn’t utter his desires in the heat of the moment, it’s the way his breath hitches and his face flushes that has you realizing just how much he’s coming undone.
© 2024 v3nomly do not plagiarize, translate, or repost my writing to any other site.
#aventurine x reader#jing yuan x reader#dan heng x reader#aventurine x you#jing yuan x you#dan heng x you#honkai star rail x reader#★ ven's works
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Cheating!Steve x reader, Bucky x reader
Oh look, more cheating Steve with sweetheart Bucky to save us
A/N: Last year someone asked me for some mad angsty fic and I posted and deleted it so quick because it was god awful. Just awful. However, I had kept a draft of it cause even though I hated it and everything about it, I didn't want it gone forever. Upon rereading it recently...I kinda like it. So I decided to change some stuff (like most of the entire plot), switch around characters (I'm a Bucky girl) and repost. If you want to see the OG fic, I can post it again or just edit this to add it under the new version
Steve couldn't stand seeing you like this. In the hospital room, the needles prodding you, it all reminds him of hydra and the things he had seen on numerous missions. When you almost die, he's thrown back into the spiral where he has no hope for a future. And nothing changes after you get better. You had almost died once. Missions were getting riskier and you weren't always in the clear. In his mind, everything good in his life leaves him or gets ripped away eventually. Peggy was a prime example of that. It's just a matter of time.
Even in your injured state, your attention was all on Steve. You knew how much he hated seeing you hurt. It sent him into a dark place few people had witnessed. As soon as your eyes fluttered open, your tired eyes met his red rimmed, puffy ones. For days, every time you try to bring him back to you, he has his walls built up again.
He won't let himself love you more.
He drinks.
He drinks enough to get drunk. It takes bottle after bottles but he doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything any more. So much so, he decides to seek the warmth of someone else.
Because you almost left him.
You could die so easily.
You almost did.
Nothing matters any more. His moans of pleasure are empty but he's wrapped around her none the less. He doesn't stop until his body can't move, too exhausted to even think about guilt.
-
You have it all planned out. You were finally released from the hospital and the first thing you wanted to do was spend time with Steve. The team had left the compound so you could set up a movie night for you and the captain, you don't want to let him slip from your grasp, not after all you'd been through together. You didn't go through hell and back to lose him like this. You fought for your life to pull through.
There are snacks laid out on the table, a movie pulled up, some hot chocolate made just for you and him. You shuffle nervously, your heart beating erratically. You didn't spend 4 years with him just for this to end because you nearly died. No. He was worth the fight. His cold demeanor was not towards you but towards the fear of losing you. And that fear was from love. Love you both shared deeply for each other.
You knew he got back from the bar late; if he was too drunk then you'd help him to his room and talk to him in the morning. It was a new habit of his but you understood.
Except he never came. He always made it home. Not tonight.
Steve stumbled in the next morning, rubbing his eyes, seeing a small sleeping form on the sofa, snacks and some drinks laid out in the living room. He swallowed thickly when he sees you get up from the couch wearing one of his hold hoodies, making your way towards him.
"Steve?"
You have a soft smile on your face, but it drops when you get a closer look at him. Tears prickle at your eyes when you see the way his neck is littered in bruises, his skin still flushed. He can't look you in the eyes, not after what he'd just done.
"I-
You freeze before him, you don't want to ask. You don't want to know. The broken expression his face is enough for you. You wordlessly leave the living room, locking yourself in, giving FRIDAY instructions to make sure no one can enter.
"Did you talk to y/n" Bucky asks excitedly when he sees Steve sitting in the living room. He knows how excited you were about the movie night, spending days planning every last detail. His excitement drops when he sees the food untouched and you're nowhere to be seen. "Where is she?"
Steve remains silent, staring at his hands. The rest of the team enter the living room, hoping to find you both curled on the couch, but no. Nat's eyes narrow when she sees the hickeys on Steve's neck but something tells her they're not from you, you've never marked him like that before, you've always been so gentle with him.
"How could you?" She hissed, while the rest of the team look at her in confusion. It doesn't take long for them to piece things together. And it's a mess.
You come down to the living room, both Sam and Tony holding Bucky down on the couch while he glares at Steve, his hands still in fists. They all turn towards you with broken eyes, this is not what they ever wanted for you. The second he sees you, he breaks down. You're numb to his cries, his pleas.
He finds you leaving the compound at 1:00 AM from where he's still seated on the couch, something you'd never done before.
"Baby? Where are you going"
You ignore him, making your way to the garage. You were never able to sleep since and staying in bed only left you alone with your thoughts.
"I-I need some space. Don't worry about where I'm going"
"Y/n, please, just let me explain"
"No"
"I made a mistake, I-
"I don't care. I just want need some air"
"Promise me you'll come back?"
You shake your head, you can't even look at Steve. You scoff, shoving past him, not caring when he hisses in pain. His cheek is bruised, spots of dark purple and blue bloom around his eye and you'd seen Nat icing Bucky's hand earlier.
"Y/n, please angel, I-I just want to talk, just promise me you'll come back?"
"I promise" You reluctantly mumble, hopping on your motor bike and speeding off before Steve can call after you again.
You loved him so much.
You fought so hard to pull through for him, you heard every word he'd said to you when you were unconscious.
Tears clouded your vision.
It all happens too fast for you to comprehend.
The car doesn't see you.
The bend is sharp.
You bike is sent over the edge.
Darkness.
-
It's been a week.
You still haven't woken up.
It's all his fault. It doesn't matter that the driver was intoxicated. It didn't matter that it was dark out. You wouldn't have left the compound if he hadn't done what he did and it eats him alive.
He's not met with any sympathy.
No one bats an eye at his tears or sobs, too concerned about your well being to go and comfort him. Like clock work, every member of the team visits on rotation since they can't all be there at once. however Bucky is exempt from all hospital rules with one brooding, grumpy stare.
Bucky is by your side every single day. He doesn't say anything when Steve grips your hand, praying for you to wake up, silently praying himself while your heart monitor continues to beep. Steve refuses to move from your side but he's not given much of a choice when Fury summons him personally for someone mission related.
He's only gone for a few hours but that's when you finally stir. Bucky is on his feet instantly, paging for the doctor while stroking your hair.
"Hey pretty girl" Bucky whispers when your eyes finally focus, the knuckles of his metal hand gently caressing your cheek. The cool sensation helps you feel more alert. You smile seeing his baby blue eyes, feeling safe as he talks to you softly.
-
Everything hits Steve all at once. He didn't just betray you. He betrayed the team. His bestfriend. Himself. All the people who had faith in him to make the right choice, to do the right thing, to protect them. And he threw it away. Everyone waited a month for you to fully recover before throwing a welcome back party so you'd actually be able to enjoy it. Steve looked back longingly at the happy group gathered together in the living room, more emotions hitting him again.
He was happy you were alive. His sweet, sweet girl pulled through. H
He was envious of the love everyone was sharing, one he wasn't privy to anymore. He was invited, he was still apart of the team after all but he knew it wasn't his place.
He was jealous.
Jealous of the way you melted into Bucky's side. Longing to feel that warmth that he used to feel himself. Bucky had his arm around your waist, keeping you tucked right by him, taking care of you long after you were discharged. He wasn't going to stop any time soon.
There was something between you two, everyone could sense it. The soft gazes at each other and innocent kisses. Bucky wouldn't let a day go by without pressing his lips to your cheek, your nose, your forehead, the top of your head. He needed you to know you were loved and cared for. He stuck to his guns, claiming his actions were purely platonic but the pink blush on his cheeks proved that he was a bald faced liar.
-
Steve knows theres no one to blame but himself. He sighs and swallows the lump in his throat as you stand on your tiptoes to kiss the brunette, sealing you both together forever. He's always thought it would be the two of you standing together at the alter but how things had changed. The cheers of the crowd are a dull buzz to him. He watches Bucky swoop in for another kiss, this time dipping you and capturing your lips sweetly.
"I love you Mrs. Barnes"
"I love you more, Mr. Barnes"
Your happy, love struck giggles cause the first tear to fall.
He does his best to smile when you both walk by, flashes of what your wedding would have looked like. The white dress. The veil. The flowers.
if only he never-
But it was too late.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky angst#marvel angst#bucky barnes x f reader#bucky fluff#bucky x fluff#bucky x you#bucky x f reader#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#cheating captain america#cheating!steve rogers#cheating steve rogers#ex!steve x reader#stever rogers x reader#captain america angst#steve rogers angst#steve x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fan fic
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ㅤㅤㅤgratefulness (i'm sorry, can this be over now?)ㅤ౨ৎㅤ12.9k
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS
oneㅤ/ㅤtwo synopsis. luffy loves you— you know this with how abundantly clear love is in every ministration of his outstretched hand and a grin— yet your traitorous heart demands more, even though you're in no place to give him your loyalty. you know this so you do not demand his love nor to be saved, even when met with a relentlessly stretched hand.
warning(s). gn! reader, hanahaki disease, but some creatively liberated variation of it, angst, hurt/some comfort, slow burn, but does it really count if nothing happens?, unrequited love, pining and the works, background character death, blood, violent imagery, vague allusion to an unspecified mental disorder that involves eating habits (pls be careful!!!), luffy tries his best to be kind but it's cruel, reader spirals 🙏; minimal editing and proofreading (these are basically my thoughts raw and unadulterated)
from vyon. the card game they play is a vietnamese one also known as smth like thirteen in english and has too many rules to explain but it doesn't really matter :3 i was a beast at that game though i fear; this fanfic has been in my drafts for so long, it also grew into too big of a project than it was meant to be. i also had to split this up into two parts, it was getting too long, i'm sorry >︿<
do not repost / copy / translate.
Once you know Monkey D. Luffy, you'll know his heart not a few minutes after. He's welded the unmoving, burning ingot to his bicep, always on display due to his amassing collection of armless vests; rubber skin melted around the golden gem, oozing past the lines of his beating heart to staple it there, an anomaly on the expanse of skin not otherwise susceptible to bullets or cannons. Your captain is a man that lives with his heart on his tongue, always ready to dictate the lay of your next move with an irregular beat that drums against the skinned men of war and an impulsivity that makes his crew scramble after him exasperatedly; oxygen taken from his cerebral arteries to his brain are stained in the grease and oil that stick to the meat he handles so carelessly. In the same endearing way, he's careless with his heart, allows for the small stuff to momentarily prick his heart, for judgement to cloud into anger before it picks up on the bitter taste of agony.
It's always easy to get a frown onto Luffy's face. Feign disinterest in his stories; make yourself too busy to help him look for strange insects; force him to shower, scold him after he does something he wasn't meant to; keep him away from something he seems interested in; starve him for more than five minutes— he makes it all exceptionally too easy. You're not audacious enough to claim to know Luffy any more than the Strawhats, especially not those that he had met in East Blue; you try not to let it bother you that they managed to meet a younger Luffy who had so many holes in his defence, whose smile threatened through skin more, who had yet to find scars in his palm from how hard he had to clench his fists.
To you, it seems unfair that Luffy had managed to uncover so many of your firsts. His unwavering presence by your side as you learnt how hard it was to live on sea, the intonations of your screaming when a marine canon was pointed at you, to live so freely away from the confines of restrictive justice, how it felt to have a hand in yours to promise forever and then some. Luffy has no preferential treatment when it comes to people he loves; he treats them all the same, no hierarchy could dream to disrupt that.
With the same sandals he uses to stomp on the faces of Marine's, he could demand food from Sanji, money from Nami, Zoro to play with him— instead, you watch him whine Sanji, food and dissolve into a puddle when his cook orders him to wait, he allows Nami's fists to fall onto his head when he makes any financially impulsive decision (or even thinks them), and he idles himself with drawing on Zoro's face with Usopp and Chopper, with the previous two of them taking the psychical brunt of their consequences. (Chopper is let off with a mere promise that he won't join in with their shenanigans again when it involves making Zoro into a fool and a growing bump underneath his hat.)
Luffy, from second to fourth gear, is tender aggression when it is love.
His form is bizarrely respectful when the door opens and light dawns upon your face; you see him through the gaps of Nami and Sanji's legs and towering forms over him, his hands on his thighs and feet tucked underneath his bottom. He slurs out an I'm sorry that lets you know that his face is definitely messed up and then follows up with an I was hungry though!
Then Nami messes him up some more for his shitty justification.
She leaves him— some caricature of her anger— on the floor with her hands on her hips and Sanji trailing after her with hearts in his eyes at her dominant display of power. As she passes Brook, he asks for the colour of her underwear and earns himself the same treatment. It's then that you laugh. Luffy snapped his head up, following after the trembling air of your laughter and then calls out your name, the syllables are all messy around his swollen cheeks and a missing tooth that will come back after a few minutes but you cannot rid yourself of the thought that it's sticky with love that you only remember hearing when you were just a babe, screaming and crying in the arms of a tired and ill mother in a hospital. You were introduced to a group of midwives with same love you hear now, their idle finger catching into both your small hands; Luffy's hand dances across the air, breaking apart your laugh with urgency and catching onto your wrist.
You're not sure if it's you who had been pulled to him or if he'd managed to catapult himself into you but you both end up a mess on the floor regardless. Limbs tangled around each other in a wave as you both fall to the deck, Luffy does not correct the length of his arm and takes to wrapping the limb around you like a vine snaked around the trunk of a tree. You don't know a start nor an end as Luffy nuzzles his beat–up face on your shoulder. "Hey captain," you raise your head to look down on him, trying to wrench a hand through the tight spirals he's coiled around you.
"I'm hungry," he whines in lieu of a response, "and I'm bored, Usopp kicked me out after I ate one of his ketchup stars." He doesn't relent with his hold on you, simply loosening the coil that you're trying to work your hand through before tightening again once your arm makes it past to trap it against your side. You don't question the fact that Usopp's ketchup stars may be laced with gunpowder or what the small dose of gunpowder may have done to Luffy's internal organs.
You guess even Usopp has his limits when it comes to his childish captain. "I can't do a lot about either of those things if you're keeping me hostage here." He looks up at you, his exaggeratedly large lips in a pout that matches the swelling of his cheeks and then says your name again, like you’ve done him wrong. It's a disordered collection of the letters again but you find you can't really do anything to fight against it. Instead, green tendrils sprout from your trapped arm, each vine wrapped in a light of leaves and strain against his extended limb before he gives in and, instead, laughs as he wraps his rubber arm around the spindly, twisted branches splitting open layers of skin on your bicep. His skin coloured against the green runner keeps the bine from wilting down to meet gravity.
You let Luffy do whatever he wants, with an expression that you're not sure you're too familiar with etched out on the lines of your face. Thinking back on it, you could've simply done as Nami had or Usopp, ignore or scold him enough into submission but his fingers catch one of the fronds and it curls between the meat of his fingertips, reaching out to tickle his palm and something soft blooms inside you. You know it must be you, not the work of your devil fruit, because as much as you've tried in your lacklustre pursuit of beauty, you've never been able to sprout any kind of flowers.
When Luffy finally lets you go, you find your way into the kitchen and give Sanji a smile. You apologise for interrupting him and tell him that you know that lunch had been served only an hour ago but, if he wasn't too busy, you were still a little peckish. Sanji shoots up immediately and asks you what you've got a taste for— you assure him any leftovers from lunch will do and he tells you, though this doesn't come as any surprise, that Luffy had worked his way through any grain of leftovers with a laugh. You laugh along with him and well, you seemed to be craving meat right now.
The plate he prepares seem to be more about quality rather than quantity, with sauce underneath the red meat drizzled across the white ceramic, a slab of meat already cut into bite sized pieces for you and a decorative herb stuck between the fatty slices but when the light oozes down into the stretch of meat, you don't think Luffy will complain too much.
You, of course, were right about that.
The shattering grin he greets you (the plate of meat, however small it seemed) with gives you the faint smell of sticky rain drenched in the light of the sun, and you almost give him your hand when he reaches out for the plate. Brook's guitar strums in the background and your heart shakes in time with his strings and Luffy's incessant chewing.
You've really no problems with Usopp asking you to help him with target practice, it's fairly common for you to help the crew with their unique fighting style— save Nami and Franky for fear of losing your life with their less than particular aimed area of damage— it's easy enough really. You don't even have to be mentally present for it; shaking through layers of flesh, vines grow across the deck of the Sunny and rise up straight to tower over Usopp as he fixes his goggles over his eyes. You keep a quarter of your mind instilled in every chloroplast that shivers across the skies so you can keep them moving but the other three quarters are focused on the card game you play with Robin, Chopper, and Franky.
You hear the snapping of elastic and your finger twitches against the back of playing cards as the particular vine shot to the left, glancing curiously at Chopper's hand across from you when he turned to Franky and accuses him of looking at his cards.
"It's not my fault!" Franky frowned, fixing his comedically small glasses to perch on his metal nose. "Your cards just happen to be in my view when I'm looking at the pile 'cause you're tiny!"
Chopper takes to this horribly (you reshape a vine that has fallen to one of Usopp's stones and keep it relentless across the wave of air) and he grows into the much less cute and broader, more human version of himself to hold his hand out of Franky's view. (Two vines snap together and they take the path to slice through air to where Usopp stands, you hear the cracking of wood as Usopp shouts at you, saying he only wanted to focus on offence. An apology is drawn out with the green arm in the air.)
"Ivy," your eyes flicker to Robin and she gestures to the pile of discarded where the two of spades had been placed on top. "It's your turn." You glance down at your hand, eyes flickering over the collection of 7's in your hand.
"Bomb." (You feel a vine break apart into pieces, think about the fact that it's lucky you've no nerves attached to the tendrils, and keep the one down to give Usopp a little win.) Franky curses your name as Robin chuckles.
Chopper glances at the four 7's with a sense of wonderment that you're sure is too dramatic for the moment. "No wonder I had no sevens!" You give him a sly grin and watch Robin pass her turn, ignoring Franky's levelled glare behind his glasses.
In the end, Robin wins anyways, ridding herself of her hand with her final card being the two of hearts. The loss is taken bitterly by both you and Franky though you think Franky definitely takes it worse than you do as when he stands to sulk away, cards fall out of his speedos, and they leave a trail after him. Robin, in all her morbidity, laughs behind a hand as you and Chopper drop your jaws in disgust.
Chopper collects the cards, hesitating with the ones that had been on Franky until Robin points out that you've all played many rounds and there's a chance that all of them had shared the same fate. (Another vine shutters down to the floor, broken apart and particles flown across the deck.) The cards slowly fall to the floor as Chopper cries out in disgust. Shaking your head with some colourful amusement, you use the two vines fallen to pick up the cards and start shuffling them.
Responding to Chopper's call, Luffy shoots his way from Sunny's figurehead. "What're you guys doin'?" He falls graciously to where Franky had previously been sitting; his eyes are ever so impatient to glance over the cards being shuffled. "Oh," he says with great interest, "are you guys playing 'go fish'?" He leaned towards you— the cards in your possession, actually— and blinks at the shuffling. "Lemme in!"
"We weren't playing 'go fish', Luffy." The little doctor has since calmed down, taking a seat between Luffy and Robin and shaking his head. "We were playing—" he turns his head up to Robin, to which she supplies 'bài tiến lên' with the intricate accents and all, "that!"
A flash of thinking places itself on Luffy's face, crossing his arm and tapping the side of his sandals on the deck, then it's gone. "Let's just play 'go fish' then."
Chopper whines, saying that 'go fish' is boring and that Luffy always snatches more than one card from other people's hands, which is cheating, and that he doesn't want to play.
Luffy turns to you with a pout, eyebrows furrowed at the dip where his nose bridge starts and then straightened out towards the end. The two vines that had been expertly dodging all of Usopp's shots and taunting him by doing silly dances and twisting into words in the air both crumple down to the floor at the same time, they follow the curve of your spine as you double over, a breath stuttering in your throat. You hear Usopp call your name and the deck of cards slip out from the vines that had been shuffling this entire time, your hand wraps around your throat and you hack out a cough you've managed to choke on.
"Are you dying?" Chopper shoots up, frantic as you keep coughing and choking— both violent in temperament, and scampers around, shouting for a doctor.
Footsteps tap closer as a shadow forms over you, Usopp's hand patting your back ferociously comes after the sound of shoes stop.
The blur that came with tears invading your eyes gives you the confidence to look at Luffy again before you're calling Chopper to a stop. "I'm fine, just choked on air."
You don't mention how it felt like you were breathing through a cheesecloth, how your lungs feel so restricted with every inhale as you all compromise on 'chase the ace' and how easier it feels when Usopp pushes his way between you and Luffy, too intimidated to pick from Robin's hand; when you all finish up for dinner, Robin is looking at you in a way that makes you think she's caught onto how you've been struggling.
Dinner is a strange ordeal. It's characterised with its usual events: Luffy sneaking his hands into people's plates though his stands full, Usopp trying to hold his plate out of his way, Zoro tending to his glass bottle of beer, Sanji making some quip about Zoro's show of alcoholism, Nami getting increasingly annoyed by the noise around her, Brook's laughter, Zoro escalating the situation with Sanji, Chopper screaming when Luffy clears Usopp's plate and then goes for the doctor's, Robin watching the scene with the patience of a saint, Franky pretending he was better than the rest, Usopp exacting revenge on Luffy by swapping their plates. It all ends with Nami telling them all to shut up and Luffy taking one final chicken leg from Zoro's plate. You stare down at your plate and count the missing bits, Luffy hasn't really touched any of the potatoes or asparagus, so you finish them up.
Two chicken thighs sit in stark contrast to the plate, thinking about having them anywhere near your mouth makes you a little sick for some reason, the weight of them in your stomach, the taste of caramelised skins, crisped with wells of juice sat next to a tinge of burnt flesh; you push the plate over to Luffy and detest the way he can take the colour of well–done oranges between his teeth and not care about the juice dribbling down his chin.
Luffy says thanks with his mouth full of chicken; Nami glares at him and turns a more concerned face to you (that also makes you sick) and inquires about you not eating. You mumble out some excuse about not being hungry, not feeling well, having a little bit of a headache, feeling tired— something along those faux lines, you don't remember but you remember that you don't tell them the truth exactly. "Sorry Sanji," you fix into your shitty excuse after, running a hand through your hair, to make yourself feel better about the entire ordeal.
He offers to make you a more palatable porridge or soup instead.
You take a cigarette and a red apple, going to bed hungry and angry at some unknown thing that brews on the tip of your tongue.
The next island is of great interest to Luffy.
The entire crew knows that its history nor culture was not either reason behind his excitement, only the mere prospect of digging his sandals into new, uncharted land is why he's running around the deck, filling up the empty spaces with bubbling laughter. Sanji finishes up bentos for those that are leaving, taking unnecessary extra care with Nami’s, and wishing he had it in him to starve Zoro whilst Nami is giving everyone an allowance. You take two bentos, yours and Chopper's, and head out onto the deck. Luffy only seemed momentarily sad that you were going with the doctor but bounced back immediately after when the trees come closer enough to intimidate so you push down the offer to join him instead. Franky joins up with Usopp, Luffy'll run off alone regardless of who he ends up going with, Nami ends up going with Zoro (to Sanji's displeasure), and you and Chopper make plans to find a pharmacy and a library for Robin.
Being around Chopper is easy enough with this unsettling prick of poison that's forced minimal responses, curt words, a flurry of tiredness, a sickening chill through your days recently. The little doctor is a lot more mindful of changes in mood, it's not any imminent injury either so he doesn't press to know why. Out of guilt (for being a brooding asshole lately), you ask him about his rumble balls and all his different forms. He answers cheerily and you can only pick out every other word with a persistent headache as the smell in the air changes from salty skies and bloody fish to sweetened foods and something unfamiliarly clean.
It's a bright island. You hear a faint bell in the distance that is traced over with the sound of children and stall owners; Chopper's hooves rhythmically sound beside you on the pavement and you find yourself counting them in groups of four. "Ah, there." You pick up your head and turn to follow the direction of Chopper's eyes. A sign is hung on the side of the building, the library. "Robin wanted a book of North Blue diseases for some reason," Chopper mumbles to himself as you two push open the door.
It's a small bookstore, walls lined with books and the paths carved with more standalone bookcases. "North Blue diseases?" You repeat, confused, "do they have North Blue exclusive illnesses?"
Your question goes unanswered, though it looks like it opens a vault of new questions for Chopper. Books aren't of great interests to you, so you follow behind Chopper as he walks through each section and grab whichever book he tells you to bring down for him. On the way back, you tell Chopper to keep going and change your course in search of something you're not too sure of.
You stray away from the town centre and head deeper through the small alleys of the town, there's no destination in mind; without the urgency of a fights and with the domesticity of a small knit community, you wander adrift. There's a dampness in the air to the walk around a shadowed hide of the place that loosens up the tension below your ribs, many different eyes follow after your form as the heel of your shoes click against a null path; shadows ooze around the soles of your shoe and lacquer up between the carved maze of black rubber of your soles until you find your way into a dead end.
It's a little bit of a cliché to be met with a ragtag group of delinquents when you turn to go back. Your eyes trace over them. In the hand of the one closest to you sits your wanted poster.
Something blooms inside you again— it's a much more pleasant feeling than the unmoving sap of ire that's been invading lately. Each man before you is physically bigger, towering over you ominously and shadows eating you but they all have swords and guns in their hands and that's why they lose. You, to the detriment of all life around you, are a weapon in and of itself; you choke out the vitality from others and steal their nutrients. They strained against their confines as their skin blossoms through shades of blooms, you are not the merciful rubber of a human, so your constraints don't relent, they squeeze and squeeze until the bark splits apart, until blood is cut off at the source, until they wither, until you are full.
On the way back, you buy a gift for everyone with the money you hadn't used and when they take to it, all in their varying degrees of joy, you feel less bad about the dead end alley full of brothers and sons. You tell yourself, handing Zoro a gift of alcohol, if not them, then it'd have been you.
You end up staying anchored to the island for a week to your displeasure. The longer you're stuck there, the closer you are to exploding; you always keep an eye out on the log pose strapped to Nami's wrist like you could quicken the process if you stare enough. Usopp starts avoiding you out of fear you'll blow like a poorly constructed cannon, Zoro makes you train with him to see if it'll help blow off some steam, Sanji brings you iced drinks at a rate that keeps you dizzy but you always feed it to Luffy or redirect it to Chopper's or Usopp's office with a little note.
On the third day, you follow in Zoro's example and sprawl out on the deck to rest your tireless mind. You've always wondered how sleep was ever a possible option for him when the feet thundering across the deck came with obstructive vibrations, no doubt slapping any chance of sleep away from his mind, but you find that it's almost pleasant. Beats all from familiar loves translates through the groves of wooden planks and etch through the back of your spine, you feel a bone fall back into place after Nami's heels against the floor and the thunderous kick that lands where Zoro was standing manages to work its way up your head to ease a headache.
The sun burns cries into your eyes and the skies move fluidly, they don't ripple as clouds shrivel against a light blue you're unfamiliar with; even as you close your eyes, you continue to feel the burn of the sun. The slapping of weaved straw against a sticky, sweaty sole then the deck comes as you slip into sleep.
Dreams have never been so amicable enough to become a recurrent in your life; more often than not, you're shown memories all blended together into a mess that leaves you sick, the abhorrent now and the nostalgic then bleeding past their confines until you see your mother stood next to that deceitful Marine admiral, both with that same look in their face. You wake up with a start when a loud bang scours its way through a flurry images you're unfamiliar with and then your body escapes you. Your head weighs with the heaviness of the bodies dropped to the floor, arms cold as if dipped into the river Styx, bones locked in place with a restrictive pain, muscles burning, aware of every breath that shivers through your suddenly odd body.
"Owww," three Luffys blur around each other as you pushed a hand to the floor to straighten up, you try blinking away the other two, but they're glued to the captain reflecting in your eyes; he looks down at what he's tripped on and follows it back to you. Your hand is met with something curved in shape when you go to push yourself up and when you look down, you see vines underneath you. You realise then that a burst of them had grown beneath you, splitting through the lawn deck and uplifting some of the planks underneath the greenery and inching upwards towards the guard rails of the ship. They take the form of something you think you met in your most recent sleep.
Luffy has managed to crawl his way towards you in the time you spend wondering why your devil fruit had been acting up— in your sleep no less and he wraps a hand around your ankle to get your attention. "Hey, you're really cold." He pointed out, eyes flickering down to the flesh between his fingers and then trailing his fingers up your thigh as he shifts closer to you on his knees.
The touch makes you violent and tender. "Really?" You managed to puff out, giving too much air back to the world with how much you're panting, "I feel a little warm though."
Luffy hums, clapping his hand over your cheeks with gentleness he only shows to those he loves, and it feels wrong. You get an itch underneath your skin that urges you to move, move, move but you can only push Luffy away with a ferocity he'd never shown you as you tremble under the bursting of violent air hacking up your throat, your shoulders strain as you wrapped your arms around your stomach, trying to heave out something that wasn't there.
Luffy scrambles back immediately, not caring for you shoving him away, and soothes away the rattling of your core with his clammy hands on your arm. "Are you sick?"
No, you think as a retch comes up your mouth; maybe, you correct as the path is marked by drool slipping down your chin and tears streaking across your cheeks. You shake away Luffy again. He's less submissive this time, his legs open over yours to plant his knees by your thighs. You hear him call for Chopper and it's obvious he has something of a frown marked on his face; you keep burning beneath your skin, but Luffy keeps rubbing his palms over your arms like you're cold.
You realise what your vines had drawn underneath you when Chopper comes out, fretting over you as he takes Luffy's place close to you. A grave. The image makes you laugh as the reindeer instructs his captain to haul you up after you'd ignored his inquires on if you could walk; your arm bends around the shape of Luffy's shoulder and your laughter erratically convulses into a collection of coughs from the skin on skin high.
You forced into bed rest after Chopper does a preliminary round of tests on you and declares you've simply gone down with a cold. You take to the diagnosis apprehensively, though in Chopper's defence, how was he meant to accurately diagnose you if you don't tell him all your symptoms? Instead, you sit in his office and spend the minutes, all alone, trying to retch out the feeling of having a piece of hair down your throat; you claw at the blanket and keep hacking until you've got a blanket full of tears and spit. The feeling does not pass.
At lunch, you get a visit from Franky who comes by to complain that you've made unnecessary work for him. "—seriously, how did you manage that in your sleep? Were you having a nightmare?" He ranted, legs crossed and leaned back in the visitor chair in a way that pushes his skinny, hairy legs close to your face.
Scrunching up your face, you sit up. "It was the future." You rebut, in between all his fantastical stories of his nightmares and talking about how he'd never attack Sunny even if Chopper grew a mechanical, giant arm and overthrew Luffy to become their captain. "A future," you correct yourself before turning to Franky with eyes judgemental, "are you scared of Chopper?"
"You weren't there at Enies Lobby," he tells you, which serves as a cruel reminder of sorts. You think about all the scars you've seen littered on the crew's skin and wonder which ones they've collected while they were with Luffy and who knows of which. The faint, protruding marks underneath Nami's tattoo, the stitches around Zoro's ankles, the ones pulled across his chest; you wonder if Sanji's got one hidden underneath his bangs. "The future?" Franky repeats after a moment, "are you a prophet?"
"It's a working theory," you brush off instead. "Though I can see in my mind's eye that Luffy is currently eating all the food and you’ll be left to starve if you don't go back."
Franky scrambled up from the seat not a second after your words.
With him gone, you settle back onto the bed and wonder about too many things to recall.
Between the hours after lunch and before dinner, Luffy comes by. He settles himself on the bed and forces you up as well, the shifting causes another cough to burgeon in your throat and you turn your head the other way to spit it out in an uncontrolled group of four. "You're not feeling better?" He frowns.
You see now that he's holding two pieces of barbequed meat in his hand, he's got the bone in his palm as he holds it upright like a sword, juices from the flesh dripping down to his hand and the smell gives you a headache. "Do you want this?" You move your eyes to Luffy, he's got his eyebrows furrowed together and his lips straightened out in a line when you don't answer. "Both?" He looks over at you, then the meat, and then you. "You," he swallows, "you can have them," his knuckles turn red around the bone, "since you need energy and you're sick." You think he's trying to convince himself to give them up.
You reached out and watch Luffy's face turn sour as his expression squeezes altogether around a midpoint trapped in his nose; you retract your hand and watch his face relax and his body unwind, you think he's moved his hand back a little. You repeat it again a few more times until laughter comes up and dislodges the uncomfortable feel of hair set deep in your throat. "It's fine, Luffy, you can have 'em."
"Really?"
"Mhm, go for it."
He moans around a bite of meat, crying your name as he chews and says thank you. The feeling is back as soon as it left.
No one comes to visit after that. Chopper comes by before he heads off to bed to make sure you're all set for the night and tells you that he expects to be woken up if you feel any symptoms get worse. You agree to his conditions, though can barely make yourself seem like you were taking him seriously with his cute face scolding you, but it seemed to work well enough as he's gone after he leaves a cup of water by your side. Sleep lingers around the corner, shirking away from your twitching fingertips and restless eyes; you give up after a few minutes, thinking about Robin who'd been thrown on watch tonight.
After going back and forth on the details, you bundle up yourself in the blanket (not wanting to have to mimic any semblance of serious guilt to get through Chopper's less than intimidating scolding if you get any sicker in the morning) and wander to the deck. The darkness of the sea would be safe for you, twisting around every limb extended to grope your way through your chosen path and oozing out from strands of hair to empty at your feet if not for the lamp of the moon ahead of you. Its light a forecast of tragedy, reflecting off a blade that would drive through the blood of a man who faced an unlikely love with only disgust and betrayal. "Robin?" The light hangs onto your word with a vehemence to uncover your unjustifiable deeds.
"Ivy," a shudder of surprise rattles your head to duck to your shoulders as you turn around. "Sorry, did I scare you?"
You give Robin a frown, tugging your lips down. "Yeah, my weakened bones nearly fell to the floor." She huffs a laugh. "Please announce yourself before you appear." Robin traces over your palish face and your features soften into a smile when your eyes meet.
"Can't sleep?" She asks once you two settle at the side of the Sunny where you'd napped earlier today, some of your vines still wedged between planks and parts of the floor haphazardly missing. You lean your back against the side of the ship and lower your eyes to the floor.
It's a total void, welcoming you back home. "No," you answer, a little breathless. The moon doesn't shuttle into the hole of the deck and something reaches a hand out for you between the atoms of a black hole. Roots twist out, easing close to your feet and sinking beneath the soles of your shoes. "I napped a little earlier." It's safe.
Robin hummed— I know rattles through her hum— and her elbow falls onto the guard rail of the ship. For the next few moments, you regret coming out. Robin's always been more receptive to the details and fine lines; it's not surprising that she can nitpick through a flurry of fronts and covers to the feelings you want to hide. They beckon out to her, wanting to fill that hole that's grown smaller with every day she wakes up to the open seas and the lively sound of her crew. "Chopper said you were sick?"
"A cold," you sniffle, bringing the blanket closer to you. Finding some semblance of confidence inside you, your eyes flicker over to Robin but she isn't looking at you— only turns when she feels your gaze levelled on her. You hesitate, searching for something to say and land on extending an arm and opening the blanket to invite her into your bundle. "You cold?"
She laughs, "it's fine, you should go back in if you've got a cold though." Her head tilted with a smile, "it'll be bad if the night air makes you worse."
Not wanting to find yourself softened in moonlight nor her eyes, you nod and bid her a goodnight before shivering your way back into your room. The door opens and light from Sunny's hallway is swallowed into the darkness of your room before it's banished out with the slam of your door, you shuffle around odd things thrown on the floor and slip into bed.
Your sleep is broken through with intervals with coughing, curling into yourself, shivering still though you burn in the night like a sibling of a star. When you wake up, sometime in the afternoon, you're heaving and reaching out your arms all around your duvet to haul together the skin that feels like it's melted down. Your palms prick against the leaves of vines that have overtaken your room, they fluoresce around your body and branch outwards to all corners of your room. The mess all blur together as your brain thrashes in your head with every splutter, you shake and twitch, trying to make sense of anything. Skin burned raw as you attempt to kick away the shrubbery that's keeping the blanket contorted around your body.
Your throat skinned and crude with its imminent thoughts of water.
A hand reached back blindly to grope at your bedside table for the cup that Chopper left for you last night. What you find instead is the burning touch of the sun, it seeps through the micro wounds stabbed through lines of your fortune and inflames every nerve straight to your heart. Your hand snaps back towards your body, the bones shivering from the imminent heat. Your entire body twitches at different paces, an invasive and hungry need drowns your senses. You need water, you need not for this to happen, water, you need for your sleep to be calm, you need to stop burning, you want to stop losing control, water first. You want water. Water— you turn your head to find the water, you need— Luffy?
Luffy is sat on a chair that you don't remember being there and when you look a little closer, you see that your vines had granted him a throne to comfortably lay on, other than that, they avoid him like the near plague. His body is leaned forward, his chest laid against the side of your mattress and arms crossed on your bed to sleep on like a pillow. You retch up some acid and, like the bowed head of a priest, a gentle petal disrupts the stream, flowing against the tide. It's a beautiful purple colour that's light against the transition to white towards the middle and an eye-catching yellow streaking against the white; lines of a deeper hue stretch through the petal and it's oddly reminiscent of veins.
The petal sits on the puddle of stomach acid that warms your thighs, your head bowed down to stare at it; you feel your soul unfurl at the sight of it, branches stretched outwards over a riverside, the heavy head of buds pulling weighted branches down to drink from the stream. Everything else blurs with a ripple, the petal is withstanding no matter no much you try blinking away an oncoming headache. The river near dries up in your attempt to wash down this unnerving disgust; you hunger for more.
Little changes when you find out what this 'cold' truly was. The lighting in Sunny's library is several shades warmer than the light of the sun, it draws upon the hunched shoulders down to your back as you tilt your head to hear the bones crack under your ear. Four syllables, that's all your death is. A lot of words are four syllables. Anonymous; unfortunate; hilarious; adventurous; hanahaki. It doesn't mean a lot by itself, so you try giving it some context. You pretend to tell Chopper that you're dying, you have hanahaki and that it's something he can't cure in a way you'll accept and you still feel nothing. You think about Chopper's face. He adamantly tells you that he'll cure you, he'll do it. The you in your imagination tells him no. Faced with your refusal, Chopper cannot do anything. In the end, it is a grave that cures you.
Death, as it stands, was something you had accepted when you stepped onto a pirate ship. Even someone with as stubborn a character as Zoro could be welcomed in by death, even Luffy. For a while, you wonder about death. The air in the room pauses as if to grace you with the silence to ponder on it, all you hear is the sound of your own breathing.
The closest thing to death comes searching for you a few minutes later.
You've always been interested in Brook. A skeleton with nothing but a sword; he has no lungs yet still sings, no heart and still smiles, dead but human in all his actions and behaviours. "There you are." He sneaks up behind you, bones falling onto your shoulder as you think, he smiles down at you. "Luffy asked if I’d seen you earlier.” He looms over you for a moment before he's straightening back up and calling out loudly, "but I'm a skeleton so it's not like I have eyes to see anyone anyways!"
It's the two syllables 'Lu–ffy' that shakes you the most. You stifle a cough in your chest and feel it tear through your ribs instead, searching for a path out. "For what?" The breaths rattle in your chest and shudder through your words.
"He wanted to show you a beetle." He takes the seat next to you, peering down at the picture book that you have open. You wait for him to make a comment about seeing what you were reading before disregarding it all with a lack of eyeballs so he wasn't seeing it really but he doesn't say anything, so you're forced to talk instead.
"Brook."
"Yes?"
It takes a single breath to prepare you to say this, it's warm and evident that you've not yet truly succumbed to your illness. "Do you see yourself as dead?"
Death is the art of those who do not live. It's something that keeps people tethered to the moment; it's the one thing that keeps humans humane. It's evidence you've lived, no matter how full nor how long. She's beautiful in her own right.
"I cannot see myself as anything because I am a skeleton with no eyes!"
Brook does not get to elaborate because Luffy shuttles in moments later, whispering loudly. (He'd learned somewhere that you're meant to be quiet in a library when he was younger but his whispers still manage to shake the room somehow.) "You're here! I found a beetle to show you!" He tip–toes to your side, "what're you reading— oh, hi Brook! The flowers here are pretty!" He points a finger down to a sunflower; his index covers an entire petal and he strokes it upwards to the middle. "Do you think they're edible?"
He turns to you with a smile.
You meet him with the same, "their seeds are." He gasps and picks up the book to scour through the letters in search of a name of these seeds. You take in a shuddering breath and when you feel another urge to cough, you cannot stop it.
When vines splatter around the room, they uproot the place; they've always been disruptive in this way. A wave of them washes various bouts of furniture to the floor, through the pounding of your ears, you hear the sound of books thudding as green appendages snake through bookcases and rattle them at the base; Brook's chair collapses as a vine chokes out one of its legs into splinters, the world blurs into a hue of greens and purples. A hand reaches from down in your throat, you heave around gaps of allowance for air and gag, cough, retch up more acid and some tea that Sanji brewed earlier this morning in lieu of breakfast. It's unpleasant. It's ugly in a way death should not be, though you guess the dead don't get to choose how to live in the same way the living cannot choose their death.
You're hauled off to Chopper again.
Chopper's voice comes as the hollow sounds of keys on an old piano. He does another round of tests on you— this set lasts a little longer than the previous and he takes extra caution with some. He finds that your heart is a little faster than it should be, he nitpicks at the bluish tint around your fingers and notes the concerning amount of weight you've lost in the past few weeks. When he asks you, what's wrong, you tell him that that's what he should be telling you.
Hypoxia; another four syllables for your cause of death. "Some of the symptoms are there," Chopper frowns, mumbling to himself. "It's when your tissues aren't getting enough oxygen, do you have difficulty breathing?"
You placed your cheek into your palm, elbow on Chopper's desk. "You're a pretty good doctor, Chopper."
The effect is immediate, he starts blushing and kicking his legs in his seat, a hoof goes to rub at the back of his head and nervous laughter comes from him. "That isn't distracting me at all, you bastard." You smiled and watched the compliment break any semblance of professionalism in him.
He gets back on track a little while later, placing a stethoscope on your chest and asking you to cough. You're not sure exactly what he's looking for but you give a soft cough into your elbow and you can say for certain— just based off the way he jumps back and looks at you a little quietly for a second, it's nothing good. Chopper spends a few minutes looking at your fingertips, then your lips, then some other parts of skin already exposed and humming to himself, troubled.
For now, he says, he wants you to try not to exert yourself— maybe leave fighting to everyone else and focus on resting until he can figure out a better way to confidently diagnose you. His lips are pulled into a frown, hands in his lap and trying his best to be professional and keep his emotions at bay. Before you know it, your hand is on top of his pink hat and fondly rubbing over the material softly. "Thanks Chopper, I'll keep that in mind."
He nods. You hesitate for a second before you're getting up to leave so that everyone else can see that you're not dying— or maybe you should tell them you are, you're not sure you could take another session of Franky accusing you of destroying the Sunny to create more work for him.
Your hand wraps around the doorknob and twists, stopping when Chopper speaks again. "You're not hiding something from me," he accuses gently, "are you?"
Your hand tightens around the doorknob. A flash of that imaginary Chopper comes back to you— heartbroken and confused at your refusal to be cured— you steal an unnecessarily large breath from the world. "I get sudden cravings for sweet things if that means anything."
Chopper, unbeknownst to you, takes those words and carves them true and raw into himself. His eyes are unwilling to leave you for more than necessary during the times you eat together, he watches you push aside the food on your plate, tearing small bits of meat off the bone to chew on it for a couple minutes too long before swallowing. He makes note of the way you have no problems finishing up everything but any sort of meat, sliding them over to Luffy, or one of his victims.
You're met with another blossom soon after lunch. You've made a bad habit of leaving the table early to escape the smell and resign yourself to the open deck, sprawling out on the grass like Zoro usually does. You're certain you're about to fall asleep shivering but the slap, slap, slapping of your captain's sandals are nearing closer so your brain kicks awake with a start; your eyes twitch, eyelashes shuddering in the wind. The darkness over your eyes morphs into a shadow of Luffy hovering over you, head tilting with a hand on his hat— your mind supplies you with the frown— and then you hear him taking a step back and sitting down next to you.
A troubled melody hums through his lips and when you open an eye to peek at him, you see his hands wrapped around his ankles, legs loosely crossed; he turned back to you and you quickly close your eyes. Here is where you finally learn that when Luffy touches, he's never placated with a simple tap, a light knocking between skin— no, he must stroke, he drags his fingers up the side of your thigh, he shivers from the coldness of your flesh and, even then, crawls closer. Then he's silent for a worrying amount of time and for a moment, curiosity takes you over. You find yourself wanting to draw light upon the disgusted features when he's met with someone he thinks close to him is growing closer and closer to a grave amongst the roots.
He leans his forehead against yours whilst you shuffle through the despicable crawl of your heart through your bones, something shifts in you and when you reach to itch at your side, it dislodges. It takes no more than a simple flip for your entire world to shift; you think you saw Luffy hovering over you momentarily before you had snapped to the side.
A fragment of the world greets its end.
Something strangles you, a hand of a giant pressing two fingers against the sides of your neck until everything in you bursts and splatters against parts that have gone unknown until now. There's nothing new to the tremor of vine that erupts through your skin, bubbling through the surface of flesh like a geyser; the tentacles claw their way your throat until you're choking around them, searching for an allowance for air. Your knees shuffle up to find some balance, head ducked to meet the lawn across the deck and elbows digging deep into the dirt. Your spluttering comes in time with the sound of Luffy calling your name, shouting for Chopper; there's a knot tied inside your mouth, you shake away tremors and tears all the same. You erupt yet there's nothing to be burnt, it's only ash that leaves your mouth— only the colourful petals of the wisteria plant that wash over the green of the open deck, burnt in hues with blood.
The next island is a spring island, known for their sweet peaches and sweeter music.
You watched Luffy devour two peaches in his hands, the ripe skin melting underneath his teeth— pale with a dusted blush until it snapped into a bloody red, melted at the pit. Then he's gone with a rustle of mikan trees as you held out a basket for Nami to delicately place her mikans in; apparently, she'd managed to catch the attention of some peach vendor with her sweet tangerines and swindled the poor man out of his money for a basket.
The streets are lined with lively hums and a strumming of odd instruments, music escapes through every crevice of a worn-down building as Luffy jumps from stall to stall, drooling over the goods before you're beckoning him back with his lunchbox and a promise of meat after you finish this errand for Nami. On your way to the stall, you hear faint chattering that doesn't interest you but Luffy straightened up beside you and turns to stare at the people as they argue on who had managed to grow the biggest peach this year.
You sigh, grabbing hold of Luffy's collar when he stops to stare at them and drag him off to the stall vendor who had fallen victim to Nami's schemes. The exchange is easy enough— give him the basket (ignore the fact that Nami had managed to make it look like it was overflowing by artfully bunching up a cloth on the bottom and filled gaps between the fruits with flowers) and make sure you've got the correct amount of money. It's when Luffy asks the stall vendor who has the biggest peach this year that things begin to go downhill.
Rather than answering Luffy's question, the man goes on a tangent about some kind of festival for a God and how the biggest peach will be the offering to said God this year— apparently, Shumi (the woman who owns the fabrics shops) had managed to get her hands on this, that, or the other to help her husband grow a peach large enough to bring doubt to the fact that Gyupuri had managed to grow the largest peach (again) this year.
Luffy insists on tracking them both down to help the people come to a decision as he wiped away the drool on his chin. Resigned, you managed to find Shumi first with her shop being the only one in town that sold fabrics and she denies you both permission to see the peach; Gyupuri, on the other hand, is more than happy to show you to the peach he grows. He takes you straight out of town, into the forest, and then up the mountain to where there's a clearing full of nothing but flesh coloured peaches.
As you listen to Gyupuri's story on how he was merely taking after his father to grow these strangely sized peaches, you have to keep Luffy in your hold so he doesn't go running to the giant peach and take a bite out of what could be for a God. Somehow though, he manages to get a handful of flat peaches when you weren't looking and when you attempt to apologise to Gyupuri, he doesn't seem to be fazed, shoving a few more peaches into your hand and telling you it's fine.
"So, who is this God anyway?" Luffy asks, his legs wrapped around your waist and chin hooked on your shoulder as he leaned back, satisfied with cheeks full of the peach you were holding in your hand. You turn to give him a look, but he merely stares at you back.
The people here must have made a unanimous decision to answer questions from the left side of the field because Gyupuri only tells you the name of this God when he drags you and Luffy up a hill to stare at a statue of this God carved out of generic stone.
To be polite, you call the statue pretty; Luffy feels no need to be polite, so he says it's not really. When you look at him to furrow your eyebrows at him, he's already looking at you.
When you're back on the ship, money handed to Nami, you think about that moment so much that it grows moss in your mind and vines burst through the crevices of the worn–down artifact you've made out his gaze to be. You throw up everything you manage to eat and feel hollow and worthy when you meet Luffy's eyes in Chopper's office again.
There's a chill that follows your days after that.
It's persistent and stubborn in a way that cruelly reminds you of Luffy. On a brighter side, you've got an excuse to be lazy in bed though it irks your bones not to have the weight of you walking thrumming up your body. You get visits from the Strawhats, get your food delivered to you, some of the crew shuffling into your room to keep you entertained with some card games and the likes— you get Luffy consistently making his way into your room and treating it as any other room on his Sunny. He comes in, always makes himself home on the bed, and talks about what he did today. At some point, it becomes less endearing and more annoying to be treated as though you were actually dying. (You hadn't told them for a reason.)
Four days after Chopper had resolutely punished you with bed rest, Luffy decides that he was going to start sleeping in your room. Apparently, your face had translated over what your head was thinking too quickly because he starts whining, saying that he wouldn't get to see you enough if he doesn't do this and, well, since you've always had a tender, raw, skinned soft spot for the boy, you end up saying yes.
He spends his first night telling you what he was going to spend tomorrow doing and you come to the realisation that every other sentence contains you. (Going to find more beetles to show you... Chopper told Sanji it'd be good to get more meat into your diet... Zoro accidentally cut snakes and ladders in half so Nami is giving me money to see if we can find one for you so we can play... Robin said there's a really pretty flower on this next island… For you… For you...) It’s all there laid bare and you cannot face it. You hide your face into the crook of your elbow and wretch out a cough. Luffy frowns but doesn't mention it. He talks himself into sleep and you lay awake to him, trying to keep yourself from blooming throughout the night so he doesn't wake up, cold and still.
When you're startled awake with misty embrace in a dream, you see that Luffy has gone.
What he has left is his straw hat and a mouthpiece of his greatness. The straw is rough against your fingers, resembling the thorns that grows along roses and you stare at it in your lap until you can feel the roughness in your throat— just when you think you need to get water, Sanji shows up with breakfast. You eye the cigarette in his lips and ignore the settling of the tray on your bedside table, watch the smoke fight the smell of scrambled eggs and bits of bacon to take over your room.
"We're at an island?"
Sanji walks around your bed, finding himself comfortable on the couch across the foot of your bed. "We docked early this morning," you watched his smoke rise, ash falling to the wooden floor of your room, waving and grasping hands up to God. Sanji keeps himself entertained by looking around your room, his foot pushing around odd leaves and petals on the floor before he nods over to the plate. "Eat." Then he's gone.
You stare at the tray, settling Luffy's straw hat aside, you shuffle to the end of your bed and take the fork in your hands— you look at the plate until you swear you can taste the eggs in your mouth and the slight bursts of saltiness that'll come from the bacon and you have to wash it down with the glass of water he's given you. You push it aside and opt to go back to sleep.
You dream of a still life on top of a hill, overlooking a dock as the Sunny pulls back out into the sea; you thrash but find every part of you rooted down to one spot, the wind picks up and you feel tangles of what could be hair or leaves hitting against a part of your body. You're still rooted despairingly in a garden of silks and duvets when you wake, Luffy had found himself unable to keep away from your breakfast but when you sit up and look a little closer, you see a pile of the diced bacon bits shoved off to the side as he shovelled eggs into his mouth.
Shattering free from the earth with a faltering cough broken into four, you shuffled yourself up and spit out a cluster of wisteria. At this point, you do not need to look at Luffy to know what his face looks like; he turned to face you, cheeks full and quickly finishing the eggs to shuffle closer to you on the bed with a book in his hands. "You left your book under the plate."
It's a hardback children's book, pulled out of Sunny's library and coloured a light blue that resembled the sky and broken apart by a sunflower in the middle and petals around it, the title curled around the sunflower. You know that the book was left in the library when you were having your episode. The cover is smooth to the touch as Luffy gives it to you and ends up knocking his shoulders against yours in his attempt to get closer; your eyes moved over to the tray of food and you think of Sanji, who'd grown up in the North Blue where this children's story was more popular amongst the romantic commonwealth.
He knows, you think, and it fills you with a dread that the wisteria blossoms feast upon delightfully; he knows, and he could tell everyone, the vines throb over your heart as Luffy opens the book over your lap and looks up, expectantly at you.
Myrsa was a pretty girl, enough so that praises sang for her ended up calling upon the scorn of love's Goddess. The depiction of her getting cursed is almost comical, stricken by lightning as she returns from a forest with a basket full of flowers and mushrooms. "What happens next? What happens next?" Luffy pushes his face closer to the book, tangling a rubbery leg with yours as he moves impossibly closer. "How does Myrsa beat up the God?"
It's the certainty he holds that Myrsa will beat up God that makes you laugh, it's the fact that she does not beat anything that makes you tremble, shaking coughs and petals out your throat. Luffy seems to think that the book is too excitable, trying to pry it away from you and saying that he can ask Robin to read it to him later so you should just rest. "Don't you want to know if Myrsa will beat up the God now?" You ask instead, knowing the answer will be yes.
Perhaps they were the wrong words to convince Luffy because when you're on the last page, Myrsa buried in a forgotten land and her love used as fertiliser for a field of sunflowers, he's threatening to beat up a God made up to exact revenge for Myrsa. It's a lot more cheerful than you had expected— all the characters drawn with round faces, small bodies, and black dots as eyes. It makes death seem redeemable.
After Luffy hauls himself out of your room, in search of the God had turned Myrsa into sunflowers, you force the bacon down your mouth and bring the tray out to Sanji. You linger in the kitchen, eyes watching him as he scrubbed the dishes and danced around the kitchen, no doubt knowing why you were there. He doesn't seem to want to be the one to approach the topic just based on the way he refused to stop even for a moment for the past fifteen minutes you've been there.
You know nothing about Sanji past the fact that he's blond, he's a cook, and he used to be a prince from North Blue's Germa Kingdom.
"You know Myrsa didn't die because she had hanahaki." Your hip meets the edge of an island, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Sanji finally slow to a halt, throwing a glance over at you. He takes his cigarette between two fingers, breathing in for a moment and then takes it out, holding it out to you. "What she was cursed with, wasn't ever meant to be able to kill her."
"I know."
Sanji takes the cigarette back after you shake your head, shrugging a little as he continued. "Myrsa died."
You laugh a little, "I read the book."
There's a point he's trying to make that's as foreign to you as the notion of a love that doesn't hurt but he turns a glance to you that almost reads like he's disappointed in you and it settles nicely against the vines choking you through. You straighten up, uncrossing your arms and his visible eye wanders back over the pots he has boiling on the stove. "You liked the ending?" The ending of the North Blue story was a two–page spread of a sunflower field, a planet of bright yellows and a dull light blue, clouds breaking apart overwhelming tones of sunny golds and drowning diamonds.
A tree split awkwardly in half due to the spine of the book, curved in shape and pinched in the middle until you held the pages at the edges and pulled to straighten in down. "It was pretty," a gentle breeze running through the leaves shedding from the tree, a shiver to the wooden flesh that split apart if looked at the right way by the right man. Myrsa was beautiful, even in a death she didn't pick treated her well.
How could you hope to live when she did not?
You find a lot of things pretty now; you wonder if that's the dead crawling in you that is beginning to appreciate the life around. Robin sat on the deck with a cup of cooling coffee on a table in front of her and a book in her hand, Nami stood between her rows of mikan trees, Zoro straining under the weights of his responsibilities, Brook with a violin to his shoulder. The sky drowned over the ocean as Luffy leaned his head against you on Sunny's figurehead, his voice a soft beat over the water rushing against the hull of the ship. He's talking about Shanks and his dream and your heart aches selfishly; his skin gulps down the orange light of the dawning sun and you resigned yourself to a death loving him.
You wonder if Luffy still thinks of his dead brother, your tongue slips against the bark of your gums, and you open your mouth without thinking. "Luffy," you hear spoken into the wind, "will you tell me about your brother?"
"Sabo?" He's clapping his feet together excitedly, turning from the sky to you with a large grin on his face, "he's a part of the Revelation Army— no, wait revocation? Revenge Army? Renovation Army! Wait— that's not right."
"No, the other one." A whisper haunts the wind, 'the dead one' written in its movement.
There's a certain hesitation to his words that brings you to the realisation that being loved by Luffy is a wonderful thing. He's never been one to be articulate with words, picking the simple ones that come to mind first without a moment's hesitation but strangely the simple–minded way served him well when it came to love. Love is not articulate either— it's one of the simplest things in the world— so when it's met with someone like Luffy, it blossoms into an art form of all things beautiful.
You regret have not meeting Luffy when Ace was around. Dancing around his features is a tender skip of tightness; his shoulders pulled up to his ears, head ducked down, lips awkward and tongue thick as he told you the story of being accepted to be Ace's brother. Hues of embers fluoresce, dripping down on Sunny's figurehead as you reached an arm around him; his words are stained in blood and adoration, strained and slow but Luffy persists, his love persists.
"You should've met him!" He finishes, turning to you with a light chuckle. "You would've loved him."
Your hand falls onto his shoulder, pulling him closer despite the crawl of vomit up your throat and you leaned your head against his straw hat. "Maybe I will."
Death is another thing you think is simple. It's as easy as slipping into Chopper's office to find him hunched over his desk, his hooves holding onto a pestle as he circled the butt around in a mortar. "Ah, you're here?" He glanced over his shoulder as you walked around him and settled onto one of the beds he has in his room. "Give me a second! I nearly have your medicine ready."
"Chopper," you think you've played this out in your head before, "I have hanahaki."
His arms slow down to a halt, his face dropping by several degrees; the previous petals that made up his hopeful and cheerful expression flutter to the floor, guided by the winds you'd altered with those four words.
"Hanahaki?" Chopper's words are slow as he settled the pestle down, "I thought— but it doesn't exist?"
"Funnily enough, it died off." You tell him with a little laugh. "As more people took to the seas and chased after the one piece, less people fell victim to hanahaki." The Chopper you've told this to before in your mind was definitely less devastated and surprised to be greeted by the fact that you have hanahaki.
He's stumbling over his words, trying to pick something to focus on first as his face was scrunched up, eyebrows furrowed, and lips open into disbelief. "How long have you known? Why didn't you tell me? You'll have the surgery, right? You can trust me; I'll definitely save you. When did it first start?" Your head is pounding with the incessant questions he spits at you, unable to answer any of them as any allowance for a response was filled in by another inquiry. Suddenly, he's pulling his mind to a stop as he turned back to you, solemn and sad and asks, "who is it?"
It's easy to tell how Luffy has touched people, Chopper makes note of the way your head tilts and you smile and it's obvious that there was no one else capable of calling upon your love.
"And the surgery?"
The look on your face, although foreign to you, tells him all he needs to know.
That doesn't stop him though, he keeps himself by your side and urges (pleads) you to have the surgery; his constant presence becomes a problem when he makes a point of forcing Luffy away from you. It's small at first, trying to distract Luffy with other things, claiming to want to be the one to watch over Luffy when you all dock so you're not given the chance, clinging onto your arms and demanding your attention when Luffy threatens to take it away from him. Then, when Luffy notices that he's been holding onto this flower for hours, fingers pinched around a sunflower stem to ask you how you get seeds from the flower to eat, and every time he's seen a speck of your colour from corners, Chopper shows up to drag you away or points a finger somewhere to shout about a meat mountain, he has a problem.
You notice it's about the meat mountain at first though.
He's slamming the door to Chopper's office after the fourth time, shouting, "Chopper! Where's the meat mountain you keep talking about?" He doesn't seem to care about the fact that Chopper is checking up on you as he stomps into the room, plopping himself down right next to you. Chopper pushes him away when your shoulders brush against each other and you're coughing out bloodied petals. His attention diverts when he hears the shaking of your cough, how you knock into him uncontrollably as your torso leans to meet your thighs, hands deep into the foam edge of the mattress. Petals splatter onto your shoes, clinging to the leather with saliva and re–painting the laces in a sickly red. Luffy’s touch is intrusive, a hand tightened on your thigh that burns your skin to ash and forces vines to splutter out your skin. They attack him, you reel yourself away from Luffy in hopes that they don’t reach him but in some disgusting way, they force themselves to new lengths to coil around his limbs. Spindling up and up and up and you can’t see his face anymore as a thick rope of vines in the shape of his hand reaches out for you, they keep moving up until you only see his hat— your back knocks against the wall. You sternly tell yourself this death is acceptable; the vines grow limp.
When you’ve calmed down enough, the first thing Luffy asks you is, “why aren’t you better yet?” And you feel as though you’re being scolded for some reason; your eyes flicker over to Chopper, fingers tangled together in front of your thighs from the corner of the room you’ve forced yourself into. When Luffy catches the wandering glances— as if you’re trying to keep him out of something— he treats you exactly how you’re acting. Like a criminal.
“Chopper?” It’s unnerving how his eyes are still on you, no trace of expression on his face, “out.”
“But—”
“Out.” Chopper throws you an unhelpful glance as he passes you to get to the door.
You’ve always had the wrong impression of Luffy— everyone that doesn’t know him has the same image; he’s a pirate that has taken down warlord after warlord, who has brought horrifying change and shifts the balance of authority wherever his feet take him. Hearing hushed whispers of him and his close affiliates in the lightened haze of booze, to distract from a tooth getting knocked out of place never does much for his image either. Though it wouldn’t be right to say that Luffy is wholly good either— he’s selfish. Selfish and impossibly kind and downright disgusting with the handling of his own needs; the sound of your name fizzing between his teeth has you startled, nodding your head back to him on the bed you’d left him at.
“You’re hiding something.” It’s not a question nor is it an accusation of any kind. It’s an observation. Luffy slides himself off the bed, his sandals comically slap against the floor of Chopper’s office, “tell me.” His hands fall onto your shoulders, one stays there and the other slides down. He treats your skin like an amusement park for his pleasure; his nails drag across the goosebumps of your bicep, pressing down on raised scars and then splashes into the palm of your hand, dragging ripples in the centre.
You hesitate, twisting your fingers together and pulling as if to attempt to dislodge the odd feeling that follows his fingertips. “Are you asking as a captain?” Despite how general expectations of Luffy remain pretty low to those who do know him, it’s also known that Luffy has a nerve in him that’s impossibly receptive to hurt. There’s a certain way to activate it and when it’s on, it doesn't quieten down until its idiot owner is pleased. Luffy scrunches his face up in an odd way, displeasured at your question as if he couldn’t believe you’d ask him something that hurtful, and his head tilts.
“Tell me.” You’re met with an unwavering stare, the hand on your shoulder tightens and there’s a hardness to it that you’ve never associated with your rubber captain— you can feel the bone in his fingers, stern and undeniable. Your eyes trace over the exposed, tanned skin of his bicep and you wish that you could force your vines through his skin to crawl into his chest and listen to the tremors that’ll run up your devil fruit from his beating heart for some kind of answer. There’s a sudden breath that’s available to you that isn’t tainted and clogged, trapped before it even meets your lungs, but it burns in a new way as you stare at Luffy, scared and terrified of a new life that’ll be forced upon you if you tell him what’s wrong with you.
You open your mouth with an excuse, but Luffy huffs and the words shrivel in your mouth, collapsing to a grain on your tongue and when you close your mouth, you taste dirt. “Luffy,” you beg, “I can’t— just, I’ll be fine.”
There’s a hint of some anger in his gaze before it turns into a haunting realisation, “Chopper knows, doesn’t he?” He pushes you aside, “I’ll just ask Chopper.”
There’s a ringing distant in your ears that chimes like the bell of the church from that place two islands ago, maybe three— you haven’t been too good with time recently. Sunny shakes like the earth as a body hits the pavement, you feel disgusting and heavy and an itch claws through your palms where Luffy’s hand has just been. You’re sure it’s Chopper he’s shaking an answer from but you hear Robin’s voice, calling for him to calm down and when that doesn’t work, Sanji cuts in. It all gets further and further away, you think about the planks of Sunny opening to welcome you back into that darkness from nights ago, you think about being choked by one of your vines, you think about the wisteria blooming whole in your lungs— you think and you think and think and suddenly, it’s all nothing. You’re dying, you think, that’s a fact, what else? Luffy is the reason. Or maybe you’re the reason.
“Luffy,” were you the one talking? “Luffy.” The voice comes again, stern and your eyebrows furrow with the same tension that the voice is carrying. “Thank you for being my captain.”
Not that it surprises you, Luffy punches you.
#op production: circa. 1864#one piece#monkey d. luffy#one piece angst#one piece x you#one piece x reader#luffy oneshot#luffy angst#luffy x reader#luffy x y/n#luffy x you#op luffy#monkey d. luffy x reader#monkey d. luffy x you#op x reader#op angst#one piece one shot
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♪ ~ a little rag dolly , wishing your worries away ~ ♪
please read the faq ! ( updated as of 7/27/2024 )
a part ask-blog , part comic where ragatha is infected with a sentient virus that can talk to her - and somehow that's the least concerning part in all of this ?
there's no right or wrong choices here but these all definitely look like wrong ones
[ while this is mostly not intended to be a horror comic , please be warned that this will contain content that can be seen as disturbing such as depictions of mental illness and breakdowns , vomiting , self-harm , suicidal and intrusive thoughts , scopophobia , medical trauma - and possibly more i haven't listed ! if these things get too distressing it's okay to click away , your mental wellbeing matters more ^^
also disclaimer that a lot of the things here were written Before episode 2 so if there's some inconsistencies then you know ! ]
READ IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER , COOL !!
somehow doesn't work in mobile , please don't ask me i don't know how to fix it , blame tumblr idk lol
phase 1
phase 2
TAGS
[ asks ] / [ ask2 ] - main posts
[ ooc ] - misc. posts
[ INTERMISSION ] - surprise !
[ non-canon ] - non-canon asks
[ ESSAY WARNING ] - mod rambles
[ doodles ] - art from yours truly !
[ THE INFLUENCER ] - old t.i tag ! design was by @/raggedabstraction
tadc influence au - green ?????????
[ you just opened : pandora's box ! ] - an achievement i give to a select amount of asks that completely ran the plot into a tree and exploded it <3
[ animations ] - ... animations !
[ office lore ] - backstory that i don't think is pretty important to this story but people are somehow invested in it so here you go
toybox - just me going crazy over my brotp ( zooble & ragatha )
[ more will be added ! ... if i figure it out ... ]
GUIDELINES AND BOUNDARIES
nooo inappropriate asks, please ! i will not hesitate to block you if you send one
my art is free to use ! use it for your icon , an edit , or even repost it ! my only condition really is to credit me (:
the only ship i'll lean towards is jesterdoll (pomni x ragatha) ! even then , it's not the main focus ( i prefer exploring more platonic dynamics honestly ! )
please be patient and do not take it personally if your ask doesn't get in , i am just one artist running this blog , not planning to get another mod , and i get a shitton of asks whenever i open the inbox . there is no 100% guarantee that your ask will get in
please do not dm me . i am not open for small talk . just take any questions or inquiries to the ask box if it's open . sorry but i will be ignoring any messages from this point on . it's nothing personal i am just severely mentally ill
magic anons are fine ! though note i will be very picky towards them and most likely won't accept any that exceeds 10 asks .
you can call me mod bee . for the sake of this blog , i go by she/her ^^ ( please don't bring up my main if you recognize my art style shfgsf )
[ guidelines are subject to change ~ ]
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in the dark.
pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, crying, mention of blood, mention of animal abuse, not very edited lol word count: 0.6k note: oh i've had the idea for a scene like this for a whiiiile now and i was hella motivated to finally write it after watching skzflix 😂 (twas supposed to be used for a jk fic but oh well, sorry jungoo)
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
"It was stupid of you."
"Okay."
"And reckless."
"Okay."
"And dangerous."
"Okay."
"And stupid. Did I already mention that? Because it was fucking stupid."
"Oka-"
"Fuck!" you snap. "Why do you keep saying that? Is it the only word in your vocabulary?"
Minho shrugs defeatedly, like none of this matters to him, but his guilty eyes tell you otherwise. He purses his lips for a second, before he tells you, "What else am I supposed to say?"
"Say you're sorry? Say you'll stop doing it? Say you won't put me through this again?"
He stays quiet, and to be honest, you expected him to. He's too stubborn for his own good and he's too good for his own sake. He's got the kindest heart you know, and you will always love him for it, but...
It's hard to make peace with it when he shows up at your doorstep every few weeks with bruises all over, like an abandoned dog asking you to take him in and put him back together.
It's hard to keep track of all the reasons he tells you to justify his borderline foolhardy actions. The last time it happened, it was because he ran into some psycho abusing the stray cats near his neighborhood. Tonight, it was because he saw someone get mugged on the street.
It's even harder to be okay with the fact that he's infinitely selfless and kind because you love your friend.
You love your friend.
You heave a sigh, going back to the task at hand because you know there's no convincing Minho otherwise. Sometimes, you wish he'd think of himself, that he'd put himself over others. Sometimes, you wish he'd think about you.
You asked him about it once, why he kept showing up to yours instead of going to a hospital. Instead of going home.
He only replied, simple and earnest, "I just want to be here with you."
You soak a cotton swab in rubbing alcohol before you press it gently against the cut on his cheek, wincing when he does. Then you move to the cut on the bridge of his nose, the one on his jawline, the one on the corner of his mouth...
You don't meet his eyes, but you feel his steady gaze on you the entire time you tend to his wounds. You're aware of how your hands are shaking, the way every breath you exhale is trembling, and that there are tears ready to overflow any second now.
The first one spills as you work on cleaning the blood off the corner of his mouth.
Then, suddenly, the cotton swab is no longer in your hand. Minho carelessly flings it elsewhere, and before you can scold him for interrupting you, his palms are on your face, delicate fingers cradling your jaw.
You blink. Just a split second, and his lips are on yours.
He's soft, and warm, and sweet, despite the bitterness that's been on your tongue the entire night. You love him. You do.
And he kisses you like he loves you too, tenderly and wholeheartedly.
You want to keep him with you forever, to never let him go, to not have to see him get hurt ever again. You don't think it's possible for you to endure it anymore, now that you know how it feels to have him like this.
When he pulls away, you're dazed. Rightfully so.
Minho doesn't stray from you for too long. He lets you catch your breath before he's leaning in once more.
Another kiss. Three seconds.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles against your lips, his tone so painfully sincere.
Another kiss. Four seconds.
"I'll stop doing it."
Then another one. Five seconds.
"I won't put you through this again."
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 03.11.2023]
#stray kids fic#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#skz fic#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz x you#lee know fluff#lee know angst#lee know scenarios#lee know x reader#lee know imagines#lee know x you#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#stray kids#skz#lee know#lee minho
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A/n: Not a one-shot but crack hcs! Hope you enjoy. I don't often write crack stuff but it is really fun when I get to it :)
Content: Dr. Ratio x Reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, no pronouns used, just crack overall, short and sweet
-While Ratio can have lots of patience for people of all walks of life, he has found a challenge within you and your form of intellect.. It would be arguably the first time Ratio has found himself in some form of a stumped state due to some of your questionable actions or phrases. He just has to sit back and wait for a moment until his brain sets itself back in place and he can think straight again
-He often scolds you, but no matter what he says it's like your brain translates it to something completely different, and even if his words are harsh you take it as if he complimented you and praised you to no end?
-Man is confused. To say the least
-Once he caught you losing nearly all your money against Aventurine, stating “third time's the charm”. YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW POKER?! Even Aventurine was laughing along in all the confusion one can show without being odd, and he had to say he wouldn’t have taken the money, this was just a ‘friendly-fire’ sort of thing, he says. Well that’s lucky for you, considering you had rent and food to pay for!
-He drags you away while you jest about it and also apologize too, because he looks like he’ll explode
-Ratio may or may have not hit the top of your head with his codex..once or twice, but it’s all in good spirits - trust
-He really does mean well, especially if he seriously sees you struggling with something. He won’t hand you the answers on a silver platter unless it's a last resort sort of thing, but he would prefer to guide you to the answer, basically making you think outside the box and such until you arrive at the answer yourself. He is always open to advice and keeps an open mind, and with that he could entertain an idea you may have, yes.. even the more... silly ones. But also be ready to be shut down immediately for the absurd ideas you may bring up. He doesn't waste time nor does he like or plan to.
-Dr. Ratio is the voice of reason in your life, and he's there to reel you back to the ground when you may be getting ideas for something that would not benefit you, or god forbid - if you plan to do something risky that could harm you or your reputation.
-He often goes out of his way to make sure you’re doing things on schedule, so waking you up, sending you a message to eat (no crisps, go eat something good, something healthy), he’d send you articles about things he remembers interest you, papers on your favored topics
-A more tender thing he does is do your hair. It’s a simple thing yet it means a lot to him and you. Just a few minutes of quiet as his fingers thread or comb through your hair, brushing through it with meticulous moves, making sure he doesn’t pull or yank.
Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
#dr ratio#dr ratio x reader#dr ratio x you#veritas ratio#veritas ratio x you#veritas ratio x reader#gn reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#crack hcs#dr ratio headcanons#aventurine x reader#can you tell idk how to write crack stuff
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Solo Horse And Rider
Nine poses for a solo rider and horse, plus all-in-ones. There are some issues with clipping reins (when using posed versions) and floating feet - please see details beneath cut!
You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim - Horse Ranch EP
Useful, but not required for the poses to work: - Iberian saddle and Medieval Engraved Bridle With Reins - Reins For Posing Bridle
Download here (always free) SFS | Patreon
TOU: you may adjust for personal use to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.
Other CC used: Leg bells and braided mane/tail/forelock by SchrodCat | Default replacement horse skin by @minervamagicka | Celebrimbor armour by @plazasims | a slightly edited version of Apricot Blossom Preset by Simsboo
I'd love to see them used! You can tag me on Twitter, Instagram, or Tumblr. I repost. ❤️ Thank you @ts4-poses and @alwaysfreecc!
You can easily browse more of my posepacks using my Ko-Fi gallery. Tips are appreciated but never required!
Details of known issues under cut to save your dash:
These poses have been annoying me for months lmao. I made them last year but ran into a couple of issues: at the time, all-in-one horse and rider poses posed out of alignment when placed off-lot with TOOL, and I also couldn't stop the reins from clipping in game (they are posed, and don't clip in Blender). I specifically wanted poses with reins because I have a hard time drawing them in, as I only have a mouse.
My off-lot bug seems to have been solved, and although I still haven't figured out why the reins are slightly off in game, I figured it probably doesn't matter: in the time Horse Ranch has been out, I've noticed most people draw reins in themselves.
I adjusted them slightly to work with the gorgeous new medieval saddle and stirrups by @morningstarequestrian , since that's what I'd be using my poses with, but although the rider's feet are resting on the stirrups in Blender, in game they hover. I don't know why and by this point I don't care enough to find out LMAO.
I've kept the original placement of the rider's hands and the reins on the horse rig, so you can use it with the LeiaMaria bridle for posed (but occasionally clipping) reins, or with any other bridle and draw the reins in yourself. In medieval art, most horses are shown to have two reins (one decorated, one 'normal') so I think using it with Morningstar's Medieval Bridle like this works fine (I would have drawn reins in myself if I wasn't lazy). The poses work with EA saddles, but I don't have other CC saddles-with-stirrups so can't say if the placement is off for others.
#ts4-poses#ts4 posepack#sims 4 posepack#sims 4 horse ranch#sims 4 horse poses#ts4 horse poses#sims 4 medieval#sims 4 fantasy#herecirmposes
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No One Else Matters
Summary: Things between you and Bucky Barnes have been going great until an Avengers dinner party reminds you of that one night you spent with Steve Rogers. Now you are afraid that the meaningless past hook-up might jeopardize your future with Bucky.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Word Count: 4.1K
Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, secret relationship, alcohol consumption but no one is drunk, semi-public sex, unprotected p in v (on birth control and clean), begging, pet names, dirty talk, mentions of past hook up with Steve Rogers, eavesdropping, no mention of y/n
A/N: Another random idea that turned into a one-shot thanks to my amazing friends. Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Also, some lines belong to her because she helped shape the story and I appreciate it a lot!
This story isn't any form of Steve Rogers hate. I just wanted to write a story like this and it wouldn't work with anyone else besides Steve. If you don't want to read a story where Steve is a past hook-up that didn't work out well, please stay away from the story.
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me. I would love to answer questions or start a conversation as long as it doesn't include any kind of hate.
Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.
Coming to this Avengers dinner might have been a big mistake. Essentially you were looking forward to this night because it had been a while since you saw your co-workers. Some are more like friends than co-workers, but working for SHIELD keeps everyone busy. Small events like this help people to get together, catch up and maybe plan other stuff for the future, but tonight feels somewhat different.
You were enjoying yourself until you saw Bucky and Steve casually chatting on the other side of the room. That doesn’t happen very often and it reminds you of things you'd rather not think about. Things that happened years ago. Like that one time, you hooked up with Steve. It was buried so deep into your memory, you simply forgot about it and it’s not like you see Steve that often. Occasionally, his team asks for your help and you try to do your best. And you have been nothing but friendly to each other since that night. You remember him taking it pretty well when you said you’d rather stay friends with him. He probably wasn’t looking for a relationship anyways.
It was before everyone found out HYDRA was nesting inside SHIELD for years. He was simply the golden boy. The first Avenger who unexpectedly returned. A savior. Everyone was in awe of him and tried to be their best version. It felt like a fairytale came true.
The problem is whenever people make an idol of someone expectations go over the roof. And when you meet that person, see what they are like up close, you just notice he’s just like anyone else. Even though they didn’t do anything wrong or bad, it still feels somehow disappointing.
He was different than what you expected him to be. You noticed that pretty quickly and decided to keep things professional. It worked out amazingly until… now. You look around, trying to calm yourself down, keeping that memory to yourself because this is definitely not the time to bring it up.
**
When the dinner finally starts, it turns out to be a good distraction. You chat with whoever is around you about recent missions, the latest gossip, and things SHIELD is planning to do in the near future. But your eyes keep wandering towards Bucky, who is seated across the table. It’s a huge relief to see Steve and him aren’t seated together or even close to each other. Everyone knows they used to be good friends, but that’s not the case anymore. Since Bucky is back to himself and started to work for SHIELD, things went downhill for their friendship. They slowly drifted apart.
You try hard not to glance back at him again, but he’s looking at you. That makes things even harder. You notice how his lips form a small smile whenever your eyes meet and how he tries to play it off as something he did because of his conversation. But you know his smile is caused by you and even though you don’t want to accept that, it melts your heart a little more.
After the dessert is served, people start to focus on their drinks more. Different groups are forming, and when you want to take check on Bucky, he quickly tilts his head to the right, signaling you to leave the room and meet him. You look around to see if anyone noticed, but no one’s focus is on you two.
You do nothing but watch him discreetly walk away first, without waiting for an answer. He knows you will follow. And that’s exactly what you do: you place your empty glass on the counter and leave the room as subtly as he did. What you don’t notice is that someone actually has been watching you very closely.
You have no idea where Bucky went exactly, so you start to wander around, trying to guess where he’d choose to hide until he grabs you with his arm, pulling you inside an empty room before quickly locking the door.
“Bucky!” A half-yelp leaves your lips, but it’s muffled by his hand.
“It’s me,” he whispers against your ear before he starts to kiss your neck sloppily. “Relax.”
He doesn’t waste any time. His hands are everywhere on your body: grabbing your breasts over the clothes, squeezing your ass.
“I missed you.” His breathy whisper gives you goosebumps.
“Oh, I missed you, too.” You grab his face with both of your hands and finally kiss him properly. He happily sighs and lets you take control. His lips are soft, tasting like bourbon, which surprises you because he is usually a beer kind of guy. Maybe he decided to try something different tonight since he isn’t the one paying.
That reminds you of the party and everyone inside. Including Steve Rogers. Bucky’s ex-best friend. And that make the anxious feeling in your gut returns. You need to tell him about what happened between you and Steve. Even if you’re afraid that it would change everything between you two. But you aren’t ready to lose him. Not when you’ve just started to realize how strong your feelings are for him.
He doesn’t fail to notice the shift in your mood. You aren’t as present in the kiss as if you have something on your mind. He stops kissing you unexpectedly, making you give him a confused look.
“Are you okay?” He sounds genuinely concerned.
You take a deep breath. Maybe it’s just better to tell him now and get it over with. What’s the point of delaying the inevitable?
“I gotta tell you something.”
You see how his concern grows even more. His expression is serious and full of worry.
“Do you want to break this off? Is that what it is?”
God, the way he asked that question just hurts something inside you. He sounded so broken, so afraid.
“No, no! Of course not.” You quickly clear the air, leaving no space for any kind of misunderstanding. “But you might wanna break things off with me after I tell you… this.”
You can see how your words confuse him. He squints, trying to understand what you are talking about and coming up with a reasonable explanation. You know whatever he’ll think about won’t be even close to the reality, but you didn’t expect his response either.
“Are you pregnant? Is that why you are nervous?” His hand caresses your cheek as he asks you. “You know I wouldn’t leave you for something like that, right? We can do whatever you want. It’s totally up to you.”
No, you aren’t pregnant. That’s not even a possibility. You’ve been on birth control even before you two started to have sex. Still, hearing his soft-spoken words makes you melt inside.
“No, baby, I’m not pregnant.”
You both take a breath after eliminating another possibility. He looks at you fora few seconds, trying to decide if he should say it or not.
“Is it about you dating Steve?”
Words can’t describe how surprised you are. Questions flood your mind instantly. How much does he know? When did he find out? Who told him? And dating? No, you definitely did not date Steve Rogers. God, you have so many questions to ask. You don’t know where to start.
“You know about that.” It comes out more like a question than a statement. The shock is so clear in your voice.
“Of course, I know.”
“How? When?” The questions come out one after another and make him smile a little. You stop yourself from asking even more and decide to make one thing clear. “And I did not date him. It was a one-time thing.”
“Oh.” He sounds surprised. Maybe he thought it was more serious, but if so why didn’t he bring it up before?
“When did you find out?” You have to know.
“Not so long ago.”
“Who told you?”
“Sam. He thought there was some kind of tension between you two, but I couldn’t see it. So he explained.” He doesn’t sound like it bothers him much, which is relieving.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I could ask you the same.”
He’s right. He can ask the same question. Your answer is simple, though.
“I actually forgot it happened.” Is he really smiling? “It wasn’t that memorable to me.”
“That bad, huh?”
You can’t help but laugh. God, you love him so much. You were worried sick about how he would react and here he is joking about it.
“Do you want an actual answer?” You finally ask.
“Yeah, sure.” He doesn’t seem to mind.
“It was okay.”
Now it’s his turn to laugh. “So it was bad.”
“Like I said, not memorable.” You choose to repeat. You don’t wanna disrespect him that much, but you don’t even remember much about it. That was one of the reasons you wanted to stay friends anyway.
“Doll, it’s fine.” He finally decides to answer you seriously.
“So you don’t mind?”
“It was way before us. It’s not my place to judge you for it.”
That’s a huge relief. You were so worried he would just choose some kind of bro code over you but no. He chose you. You breathe out with a smile on your face.
“And if someone is gonna get judged for their past, it’s not gonna be you.”
You instantly frown because you understood immediately what he meant by it.
“That’s not the same thing. I chose to hook up with him. You didn’t choose to get brainwashed.”
“Yeah, of course, but I am the one who killed those people.”
“Bucky, no.” You touch his chest, trying to comfort him without realizing it. “Don’t go there. Please. That’s not a fair comparison.” You want him to be free of this guilt. He’s trying to redeem himself so hard, it has to end somewhere.
“Fine.” He finally accepts it. “I don’t care about your past. I only care about your present and future. Is that better?”
“Yes, it is better.” You wrap your arms around his neck and close the distance. “You are always so forgiving, yet you are so harsh to yourself.”
“As long as you are mine, I don’t care about anything.”
That does it. An unexpected jolt of arousal overwhelms you. Suddenly, you don’t feel shy anymore.
“Can you…” You try to collect your words. “Can you fuck me like you did the last time?” Asking that out loud feels a little weird. Maybe you should’ve drunk a bit more.
You watch as his eyes widen in response. Oh, he wants that as much as you do. No need to feel shy.
“Which position exactly?” He sounds so cheeky, but you can see his question is genuine. He needs additional info because it wasn’t a one-and-done.
“Against the wall.” You bit your lip, remembering how good it felt. So rough, yet so full of pleasure. You can’t help but shiver when you remember that orgasm.
“Fuck.” He surpasses a moan. “We have to be quiet, doll. Can you do that for me?” His voice is really low.
You eagerly nod in response. You aren’t sure if you can actually do it, but you will try your best if he’s going to do what you asked for.
“God, I love you so much.” You can’t hold yourself back anymore. Hearing those words from him sparks something unstoppable inside you. Grabbing him by the face, you crash your lips against him.
“I love you, Bucky.” You keep kissing him. “So much.” Your hands move south, unbuckling him as quickly as possible.
Your movements are rushed but not sloppy. Like you did this a million times before. It feels familiar, but it doesn’t change how much you need him. Urgently. And he doesn’t seem to mind that your act as if you are in a hurry. When you finally unbutton his pants, they pool around his ankles, and that’s when he decides to lift you up. His hands stay under your ass while he presses you against the wall, your dress already curled up around your waist.
“Are you ready for me, doll?” He asks with that voice he uses when he’s really aroused. It turns you on even more and you didn’t know that was possible.
“Yes.” You want him inside you so much. You need his lips on you. “Please, Bucky, I need you.”
“You do?” Oh, youknow this tone too well. He loves to tease you and make you talk more about what you want, and it’s always so rewarding. So you don’t hold back.
“Please, fuck me, I need your cock so badly.” Even though it’s dimly lit inside the room, you see the shift in his eyes. Your words are feeding some kind of primal need inside him. “I need you, baby, please. I’m so wet.”
“Let’s see if that’s true.” He holds you with one hand and aligns himself to your entrance with the other. You shouldn’t be surprised by how strong he is, but every time he manages to astonish you. He doesn’t even struggle to carry or hold you. When he finally thrusts inside you, a loud moan escapes your lips. The stretch is so fucking delicious. “Shh.”
“Sorry, sorry.” You quickly try to apologize. “It just feels ssso good.” A low moan follows your words.
“You know I love to hear you, doll.” He starts moving. “I love how you always beg for more.” His free hand goes to your head, pushing a strand of hair back so he can see your face better. “But this time we need to keep it quiet. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’ll be good, I promise.”
That makes him smile. You wrap your hands around his neck again, wanting to be close to him. That’s when you both hear a sound really close to you. So close that you feel like it came right at the door. You both still for a second, listening to find out if someone is outside, but there’s no more sound. So that noise is long forgotten in a minute.
You don’t even care if someone is outside. You don’t care if someone hears you fucking. Bucky Barnes loves you. No one else matters. Your lips clash against his. It’s such a sloppy kiss, but you love every second of it. His hand moves to your neck, holding you in place as he starts to pound on you.
“Is this how you wanted it?” He keeps asking, wanting you to speak, but you can't. “Is it that good you went speechless?”
You nod eagerly.
“Come on, darling. Use your words.” He’s moving relentlessly, taking your breath away with each stroke.
“Yes.” You finally manage to say. “Oh god, yes.”
“Yes to what?” He taunts you. “Is that what you wanted or is it that good?”
“Both!” You say louder than you intended, then you remember you promised to be good and you lower your voice. “Yes to both!”
“Good girl.” His flesh hand travels to your neckline. He quickly pushes the straps of your dress down more, finally revealing your breasts. You aren’t wearing a bra, thanks to the padded dress. “God, look at you.” He marvels at you. “Such a pretty little doll. All mine.”
His mouth latches on your right breast, sucking and biting it while he keeps moving. He knows how to use his mouth well everywhere. It makes everything so much better. You can feel that pleasure starts to bottle up, your abdomen tensing.
Oh, he truly knows how to get you there. He knows how much you love it when you two climax together. It feels heavenly… like you are in your own little world and there’s no one but him there. Nothing else matters. As your legs start to shake with overwhelming pleasure, you imagine going back inside, talking to others while his come is dripping out of you. No one would know what you two were up to. Not a single soul. It’s your little secret. The thought makes you moan a little bit louder. Your hands grip hard on his shoulders.
Bucky moans right next to your ear. “God, you feel so good.” His hands are gripping hard on your ass. “I wish I can stay inside you forever. I don’t wanna move. I don’t wanna go anywhere else. I just wanna keep fucking you, until you beg me to stop.” Does he know what his words do to you? Does he notice how it amplifies your orgasm? Or does he just say whatever he wants to say? “I’m gonna come.” He warns you. “I’m gonna come, baby. I’m gonna come.”
You ride your orgasms together, as he empties himself inside you. His head falls on your shoulder while he keeps holding you. His lips press against the crook of your neck. While you keep taking deep breaths, you can feel his heart racing.
“Are you okay?” He asks while moving away enough to take himself out of you.
“Okay?” You question as he gently puts you on your feet. “I feel amazing.”
You lift yourself on your tiptoes and give him a full wet kiss.
“Now I believe you.” He gives you a little smile that only makes you want to kiss him again.
“I’ll be louder when we go home so you won’t have an ounce of doubt.”
“Yours or mine?” His question comes instantly.
“I don’t care.” You really don’t. All you want is him. Where, when, and how are just details.
He helps you shape your hair back to normal while you pull the stripes up. Your underwear is a mess and you are dripping out already. Bucky takes a napkin out of his pocket and kneels in front of you. He gently pushes the serviette between your folds, cleaning you up enough so you can go back inside.
“Thank you.” You love it when he takes care of you like this. “But you know that won’t be enough. I will keep dripping all night.”
“I’m counting on that.” You can see on his face how much that thought excites him. “Keep dripping onto your underwear while talking to others. Remember what we did here. Imagine what we will do later.” He stands up while you fix your dress and you realize that you can’t wait to leave this party already.
“You have such a dirty mouth. I love it.” You grab his face with one hand and just force him to kiss you. Not that you can actually force him to do anything, but he lets you anyway. “Come on. Let’s go back.”
**
It’s been a while since you returned to the party. Everything seems normal. No one even realized you were absent. No one is suspecting anything. That encourages you to look around for Bucky. When your eyes meet, he gives you a teasing smile while casually chatting with Sam.
The whole night you didn’t say a word to him. Not around other people. But you don't see any reason to keep avoiding him. Everyone knows you two are friendly. So you decide to walk over and chat a little.
“Oh, look who remembered us!” Sam jokes as soon as he notices you.
“Hello to you too, Sam.” You don’t mind his teasing. “Good to see you missed me.”
“Hey.” Bucky raises his beer bottle to casually greet you. He probably got tired of the bourbon.
“How are you, fellas?”
“Oh you know, missions and drinks. Same stuff,” Bucky answers your question.
“Nothing new?” You tease him, just to see how he would react.
“Nope. Just little old me doing the same things.”
“Really, I keep telling him to go on a date or something but no. He prefers this misery instead.”
You try to surpass a smile forming on your lips, well aware of the exact reason why he’s declining the offer.
While you’re staring at each other, Sam notices Steve on the other side of the room and raises his hand.
“Hey, Rogers!”
That’s definitely the last thing you need tonight, but there’s no way you can stop Sam. Steve joins your group in a couple of seconds, but for some reason, he looks… kinda miserable.
“You alright, man?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He absently answers. “I’m fine. Feeling a bit under the weather.”
“Maybe that super serum is finally wearing off.” Sam jokes and it manages to make Steve smile for a second.
“How are you all?” Steve asks while looking at the whole group, but his eyes stay on you for a bit longer than the rest.
“Oh, we are fine. We were talking about the lack of Mr. Barnes’s dating life.”
God, he isn’t going to let that go, is he?
“Speaking of dating…” Sam continues while taking his phone off. “I met this guy the other day and he’s perfect for you!” Is he talking to you? He shows you a photo of this blonde guy who honestly looks alright, but he’s practically a stranger. “He’s a good guy and he fits your type. I can give your his number if you want.”
“What the fuck, Sam?” Your response makes the rest laugh. “You are playing matchmaker now?”
“I mean… someone gotta do it and I was hoping you would find someone to return the favor for me.”
You look at Bucky just to see he’s kind of enjoying this while Steve looks thoughtful for some reason.
“That’s definitely not my type.”
“Really?” Sam side-eyes Steve for a second to see his reaction, but it’s like he already knew that.
“And I am already seeing someone, so…”
“Wait a second!” Sam sounds surprised. “You are seeing someone? Since when?”
“Why are you so surprised? You thought I would inform you about my love life or something?” Bucky is laughing quietly on the side, and Sam looks a little uncomfortable.
“I don’t know. I thought you were single. You are already off the market, huh?”
Bucky subtly nods to his last comment but doesn’t say anything.
“Yeah, it seems so.” You put your drink on the nearest surface and stretch your neck a little.
“Tired?” Bucky asks this time.
“Yes. I’m thinking about leaving. Maybe I should call an Uber or something.” You make a move to take your phone out.
“Actually… I was considering the same thing. I can drop you home, you can save up the money.”
“Really?” You didn’t expect him to offer to leave with you. Usually, one of you leaves first and the other follows, but maybe after tonight's events, he decided that there’s no reason to hide anymore. “Sure, that'd be great.”
You see Sam rolling his eyes. “There go hours of effort.”
“You wanted to leave before?” It’s obvious you are talking to Bucky.
“No, not really, but he assumes that and tries to talk me into staying every time.” You start to laugh. It’s not hard to imagine why Sam thinks he’d rather be somewhere else.
“Sorry, Sam, but we are old. Apparently we need more sleep.” You are mocking yourself and Bucky at the same time, wondering how he’ll react.
“He is old, but you… not so much.”
“My soul is old and that’s enough.” You raise both of your hands and wave a goodbye. “Anyways, time to go. Good to see both of you.” Your thumbs and index fingers move around like two guns pointed at Sam and Steve.
“Good night,” Bucky simply adds.
While you two quietly walk away, Sam is already suspecting something is up.
“Did I drink too much or is there something going on between them?” Sam asks when you are far enough not to hear it.
“They are together.” Steve tries to sound as casual as possible.
“Wait! Really?” He thought something was just blooming between you two, not a full on relationship. “How do you know?”
“I heard them.” Steve notices how it sounds and quickly adds: “Talking.”
“And you are okay with that?”
“Yeah, sure.” That doesn’t sound convincing at all. “It’s not my place to say anything. It was never that serious.” He isn’t sure if he’s trying to convince Sam or himself. “I mean… I think she’d want to get serious, but she talked about staying friends and I jumped on the opportunity and agreed because I didn’t want a relationship.”
Sam nods. “Well, good for them I guess. They seem like a good match.”
“They really do.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#celebrity!bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x oc#marvel x reader#sebastian stan#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x reader#bucky x you#my stories
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Sry this is from the rainbow dash equestria girls x fem shy reader request but i forgot to put dating headcannons 😓
[MLP Equestria Girls] Rainbow dash x F! Reader
Warnings: Fluff, PDA, Some angst
A/N: HELLOOO!! I never thought I'd get a request like this and im happy there are people who want me to write from many other fandoms i'm apart of! which i'm so happy about :DD
Summary: Just small dating headcannons of Rainbowdash X fem shy reader LET'S GO LESBIANSSS!!
- Dating rainbowdash has its pros and cons - She would be fun to be around yet sometimes arguments happen but you both talk through it - Rainbow Dash is very athletic and competitive. She is the captain of every sports team at Canterlot High School which you always cheer her on at - She loves looking at you in the stands when she scores or knows she looks awesome yeah she knows but seeing you stare at her with sparkly eyes is everything to her - Due to her competitive nature you keep her grounded placing your hands on her shoulders and telling her shyly to quiet down - Autistic Sporty Gf X Nerdy shy Autistic Gf - When you get socially messed up and scared she's always there since she's dealt with fluttershy she got you
-rainbow dash knew that even though you don't feel comfortable expressing around others that your always happy to just be around with your friends and well with her obv -Rainbow dash loves to cuddle with you when your both alone and would smooch your cheek since she doesn't like being seen as weak
- Only YOU! can wear her iconic rainboom shirt and her jacket and take it off of his face when your alone he enjoys it and would kiss you
- Rainbowdash often seeks out your opinion and values your input in some situations because your her partner and wants to know how you would feel about what she does it's a thing you've both been working on since she's abit impulsive - Rainbow is an unapologetically passionate and energetic personality, embracing her love of music and bringing out the passion in others - She stares at you lovingly and pretends she wasn't moments before as she is blushing - She knows that you hate hated crowded places so when she notices that you would go behind her back pressing your chest against it which was one of her ways of understanding you were saying 'I don't feel comfortable' - She loves trying to teach you sports to do and when she elsrnt you liked to do [Fav Sport] she would play with you for fun and teach you
-Even though she hates losing she gives you a few pity points but still wins as always but she is much gentler with you so all the other girls would be like WTF?!
-Her dragging you to workout or just to have you draw while she workouts to atleast have company
-Rainbowdash likes to challenge herself which becomes a bad habit so you always have to stop her from overworkong herself
- Sometimes rhat leas to arguments but she knew your intentions are good so even after awhile she just agrees after which is hard but she does her best not to overwork herself
- The time she had overworked herself she couldnt compete in a sport and the face of panic made her feel guilty she never wanted to see that again
- She loves you so much and loves sports so much but no matter what she cares even if its hard for her to admit with her whole attutide she cares
reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
©brights-place 2024 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact
#rainbowdash x reader#my little pony#my little pony x reader#x reader#headcannons#fluff#equestria girls#mlp equestria girls#female reader#slight angst#angst#mlp#mlp x reader#Rainbowdash x female reader#rainbowdash mlp
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are you alone? — idol!hueningkai x fem!reader | established relationship. NSFW/MDNI!
cw. phone sex (?), joi (f. and m. receiveing), switch!kai x switch!reader, chubby!reader, tummy love as usual, masturbation, nipple play, cunnilingus is discussed but doesn't actually happen, reader licks her own juices <3, older!reader kinda, pet names (baby, babe, good boy), balls, kai sends reader a nude, established relationship, lemme know if i missed anything!
wc. 1.6k
notes. reposted from my old acct! i have a bunch of longer fics in the works so i thought i’d repost something from my other account in the meantime. i wrote this awhile ago and didn’t edit it a lot so it’s not my finest work, but oh well. smut under cut !
“How’s New York?” You ask Kai over the phone. The time difference is so drastic between the two of you that the only option for phone calls was during your lunchtime while he was getting ready for bed.
“It’s good, but I miss you,” he said. You were totally fine until he said that. When he says he misses you, everything in you aches. You need a hug, a kiss, an orgasm, and a cuddle. More than anything. And he can sense it all—and he misses you just as much. “You okay?”
You sigh and say, “Yeah…just wish I could be there with you.” He agrees—having you there would be perfect. And you can’t help you couldn’t get off work. How many people could take six weeks off work to go on a world tour with their boyfriend? “What are you doing right now?”
“Getting ready to take a shower.” He chuckles just a bit before adding, “Naked.”
You cackle and say, “I know you take showers naked, babe.”
“I know. I just wanted to remind you.”
“I bet you look really sexy.”
“Wanna see?”
“Do you even have to ask?” He poses for a cute mirror selfie that’s not too revealing, just shirtless, his sexy smirk, hair messy, and the top of his pelvis just barely exposed leaving everything to the imagination. He’s so cute. “Oh, wow. I was right.” Remaining silent, you wish you could be there with him…hugging and kissing, cuddling in the shower as he rubs a loofah all over you. He’d jiggle you and kiss your tummy…a lot. “I woke up thinking about you this morning,” you admit.
“Yeah? What about me?”
“About you touching me…” You hum, the ache for him growing stronger with each syllable.
“Really?” You can hear the water turn on over the phone, his voice echoey off the bathroom walls. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah,” you giggle. “I’m at my apartment. Why?”
He hesitates, trying to put into words exactly what he wants to do with you. “No reason,” he says, a hint of a giggle in his voice. “I was just thinking about what I’d do if you were here with me.”
“What would you do?”
“Oh god…” he takes a deep breath. “You know I love your tits. I’d just bury my face in your tits and kiss all over them.” You groan, resisting the urge to slip your fingers into your lounge shorts—resorting to squeezing your tit gently, imagining it was him. “You love it when I lick your nipples,” he says matter-of-factly and you hum in agreement. “Touch your nipples for me right now.” After pulling your bra off from under your shirt, you lick two fingers, rubbing circles over yourself. Your head falls back against the couch cushion, gently sighing, all your muscles relaxing.
“That’s it, baby,” he says. It almost makes you feel silly how much of an affect those three words have on you. “Tell me what else I do that you like.”
“Oh,” you start. “I love you tongue on my clit. God…” you groan. “I so wish you were here to eat me out right now. I really need some love from you.”
“I’m sorry—”
“No, no, it’s okay,” you say, hoping you didn’t ruin the moment. “I just meant you always feel so fucking good.” Your hips involuntarily grind against nothing. “It'll be well worth the wait when you get back.” Your thighs press together, trying to find some form of friction.
“I know it will. I miss you too you know…” he says, his breath heavy.
“I know,” you chuckle. You take a minute to switch to headphones so you have both hands free.
“Start moving your hand down to your pussy, but don’t touch yourself yet.” He takes a deep breath. “And tell me about it.”
“I’m dragging my fingertips across the front of my hips,” you whisper, stomach jerking at the tickle. “They're on the inside of my thighs. I can feel myself getting wet for you,” you say, moving closer and closer to your center. “Can you tell me what you would do if you were here with me?”
“Yes, baby,” he sighs, a smile evident in his voice. “Are you on the couch?” You hum. “Well, I’d come over and get on my knees, kissing all over your belly.” That’s one of your favorite things he does to you. And he absolutely adores your tummy. Loves it when you giggle from the tickle of his lips, making your belly jiggle against his lips. “Baby, do what I say but with your fingers. Do exactly what I say. Do you understand?” He asks, his voice getting sharper.
“Yes, I understand,” you giggle.
“I’d get on my knees and kiss your belly, spreading your legs, dragging my fingers all over the inside of your thighs,” he says. “And I’d pull your shorts down, pressing my hand over the outside of your panties.” You do the same. “And I’d move them to the side really slowly, looking up at you writhing, begging me to touch you.”
Groaning in anticipation, you hear him snicker, satisfied knowing he’s teasing you, even from this far away. “And I’d slide one finger inside you, feeling how wet you are.”
“I’m so fucking wet for you,” you say. Pumping your finger in and out of your pussy, some built-up tension is relieved.
“I know you are,” he says. “And then I’d slide another finger inside you, making you grind your hips against my fingers,” he says, as if he’s telling your body exactly how to move—and it’s obeying. “But that’s not what you want, is it?”
“No,” you whine, clenching your jaw, using everything in you not to touch your clit.
“Not yet, baby,” he chuckles. “I’d gather your wetness on my thumb and rub your nipple, and you’d moan for me.” You do what he says, moaning loudly.
“Please, Kai…”
“Did you do what I said? Did you rub your nipple with yourself?” You hum. “Good. Then, I’d lick your nipples, cleaning you up.” You lick your fingers, wiping your nipple clean, tasting yourself on your fingers.
“I’d kiss around your clit, hearing you whine and beg for me.” He takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. You’re not sure if he’s touching himself, but you hope not so you can give him instructions in return later.
“Baby, please let me touch my clit. Please…” He hesitates as you keep begging.
“And then I’d flick my tongue over your clit.” You finally make contact with your fingers, moaning out loud. “That’s it, baby.” It’s those three words again.
“God, you feel so good,” you say, head dropping back to the couch cushion again.
“And I’d look up at you between your legs and you’d be rubbing your nipple.” You look down, half-expecting him to be there, only to be met with emptiness.
“Fuck, baby—” you gasp. “I love it when you talk to me like this.”
“Your legs would start to shake around my head,” he says. The knot in your stomach tightens—his voice along with your fingers feels amazing.
“I’m so close, babe,” you say, close to being out of breath.
“Don’t stop,” he insists. “Do whatever you want to yourself.” You don’t change anything. This is already too good. “Cum so good for me, baby,” he says and you push yourself over the edge, moaning loudly through gritted teeth. “Yeah, that’s it. Just like that,” he praises you as you work yourself through your orgasm—legs shaking, hips flinching, breasts heaving.
After coming down from your high and catching your breath, you say, “That was fun.”
“It was…” he sighs, finishing it off with a bit of a whimper.
“Aw, I’m sorry, babe,” you say. “You need me to help you out?” He hums so, so cutely. “You’re still in the shower?” He hums again. “You haven’t touched yourself yet, have you?”
“No, I wasn’t told to.”
“That’s my good boy,” you giggle. “You’re so good for me.” You take a second, trying to think of what you’re gonna do with him. You can’t get the image of him in the shower out of your head—water rushing over his body, cock painfully hard, pushing his bottom lip out for you—all while attempting to avoid the water from splashing his phone. “How about you start squeezing your balls first?”
“Are you asking or telling?”
“Sorry,” you blink, getting in the mindset of that role. “Squeeze yourself for me, baby. But don’t you dare touch your dick yet. Tell me how it feels.”
“Wish it was your hand…”
“I do too, baby,” you sigh. “Use your thumb to rub the precum around your tip for me. I know you’re already leaking,” you say and he chuckles, letting you know you were right. That action makes him absolutely whine. “Feel good?” He stutters, finally mumbling out a yes. You’re giddy as hell. It’s so fucking cute getting him like this. “Do you wanna squeeze your cock, baby?”
“So bad…” he stutters, sending shivers down his spine.
“Get some soap in your hand and go ahead,” you giggle. “Squeeze your cock for me, yeah?” He hums, following your instructions. His mouth dropping open, he moans so fucking loud. And you’re not surprised, he’s waited quite some time to touch himself. “How’s it feel?”
“Wish it was your mouth…”
“Aw, miss you too, baby.” You smile. “But tell me how good it feels.”
“Feels so good.” His hand pumps himself and he honestly doesn’t think he’ll last very long. “Won’t last…” he can’t even get past mumbling half sentences.
“That’s okay. Go a little faster for me.” And he does just that. “Just want you to feel good, baby.” Following your instruction, he makes this heavenly noise and you know he's cumming. And you can’t help but imagine his cum spurting all over his hand, his mouth barely open, eyes squeezed shut. “That’s a good boy. Cum so, so good. So good for me.”
#hp’s writing 🪲#hueningkai smut#hueningkai hard thoughts#hyuka smut#hyuka hard thoughts#txt smut#txt hard thoughts#txt ff#txt fic#kpop smut#kpop fic#kpop ff#hueningkai fic#hueningkai ff#tw balls
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the color blue: neon [part 2] | yandere xiao x reader, yandere venti x reader
synopsis: the days until you finally meet your penpal has been ticking by so quickly, but with a new tutor, a clingy roommate, and a professor who seems to only want the worst for you, it's hard to keep track of time. WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT, yandere characters, creepy xiao is creepy (lots of potentially uncomfortable thoughts from his perspective), heavily implied stalking, possessiveness, manipulation, dub-con touching, student-teacher dynamic, age gap (reader is 21+ and zhongli is 27+, feel free to adjust as need be). let me know if I need to add anything! reader is gender neutral.
wc: 10.7k
author notes: I wanted to first say thank you for the wait, and I hope that everybody is able to enjoy the changes and edits I’ve made to the story. I also wanted to say thank you to the mutuals who had helped me create the original version of the story. it has been a long time since then, and I’m not entirely sure if they’re still active (OTZ), so I’m not sure if they would still like to be tagged but I am forever grateful to them. this is the last exposition heavy chapter, as well as my last read edit/re-upload of a chapter, so the next few chapters will be much meatier with new content!!! again, thank you so much for the wait. love you all! as always, reblogs are very appreciated if enjoyed and if possible!
ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏” ♡♡♡ [part 1]
dark content. minors do not interact. do not repost/link.
from xiao's room, there's a perfect view of the town a bit away from campus that greets him everytime he steps inside. it's a gorgeous sight, which is something he could admit, even though he didn’t choose the place himself, one anyone would be grateful for. the town is bright and bustling even still, and it’s only now starting to dim down. it’s getting late into the night, with flashy lights and beautiful architecture and homey buildings, and so many people, people, people.
there are still families on an outing, and cute couples going on dates. shop owners sweeping around their store. he can see as the everyday salaryman walks back home, accompanying the students on their own way home from classes; he can see so many lives being lived from his isolated little tower.
and yet, on nights like these, no matter how enchanting the view, xiao usually prefers to keep his blinds tightly shutー out of sight, out of mind. jealousy is a vile thing, isn't it? it's nasty, tainting your view of the world, of the things you love. after the first few weeks after xiao had moved in, the view quickly lost the charm it once had. because at the end of the day, to him, the view only serves as a cruel reminder of just how alone xiao is and always has been.
it dangles around a painful reminder of the things xiao can never have. it's so close, yet so far out of reach.
but despite his usual bitterness, xiao doesn’t bother closing the blinds tonight, because tonight, he has hope, hope that he could one day be like the many walks of life he sees everyday from his apartment window. hope that he’ll have something worth wondering about.
xiao sits himself on his bed, the second biggest source of comfort in his life right now. for some reason, he feels awfully nervous. he knows why, but he can’t help but wish that awful feeling away. for a split second, he can’t help but wish he was as confident and fearless as... no. he won’t think like that, not right now, at least. he shakes away the thought. butterflies jitter all up and around his stomach as his shaky hands picks up his phone and dials numbers, your numbers. the digits are already memorized by heart.
he tries to calm his nerves as he presses the phone up to his ear after hitting the call button, nails digging into the pajamas he changed into when he got home. he thickly swallows, waiting as patiently as he can, like usual.
ring. rinnng. rinnnnnggg.
it doesn't take too long for you to pick up.
"hello?" he finally hears.
it's only one word (and a pretty basic one at that), but xiao can already hear the soft underlying shyness of your voice. his mouth naturally opens a little agape. you've always been nervous around those you weren't close to. your voice sends him into a state of bliss, so much so his brain is too foggy to reply until you coo out another hello, questioning if anyone is there on the other line due to the silence.
he almost has to force himself to speak "It's… xiao," he blinks, not even saying hello back, "from professor zhongli's class," xiao almost slips up by saying the name you know him much better by. “you… we spoke on the train. I don’t know if you remember,” he manages to stutter out.
you had seemed pretty out of it when you two talked earlier that very same day. you must’ve been so exhausted to have fallen asleep like that, right next to him. he’s still replaying the site of it over and over, the way you were struggling so hard to stay awake, head bobbing back and forth. it was probably embarrassing for you, but it was a pleasant sight for him. the soft puff of your cheeks and the furrow of your brows, the shallowness of your breath and how relaxed you looked. it made him feel like a creep, staring at you in that state, such an intimate state, a vulnerable state.
it’s why he had held back as long as he could before finally tapping you awake, wanting to bask in the precious sight for longer.
he snaps back to finally finish his explanation, “…you gave me your number earlier today," he says it less as a reminder to you, but instead as a reminder to himself. he bites his lip, waiting for you to respond, wishing he could see what you looked like right now.
in the meantime, he remembers how your eyes had begrudgingly opened back up at the feeling of him touching you. he remembers the warmth of your body that felt like it could melt his finger tips from the heat. he wishes he could see and feel both much more often, but xiao is patient. lord, is he patient.
he remembers how embarrassed you looked as you sat up in your seat, trying to reorient yourself. “sorry, what did you say?” you finally had spoken after getting settled. you must’ve been too frazzled to hear him the first time. he cleared his throat before he repeated himself, this time a little louder, a little less shy than the first time around.
“I asked which stop you get off at.” you looked at him with eyes big with confusion. he hoped, desperately (he’s always so desperate), that he hadn’t made you feel anything negative.
he made sure to explain the question in hopes that it made you feel more comfortable and not as confused. “…I can wake you up before you get there, if you’d like.”
despite his wants, he needed to make sure you were safe, and were able to actually get home. if he didn’t ‘protect’ you, who would? definitely not that roommate of yours.
to his (would be short-lived) disappointment you had shaken your head. “no, it’s fine. I really shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place.” you had paused for a short second before saying, “thank you, though, xiao.” he doesn’t like to remember how he almost shivered at the sound of his name coming from your lips, nor how he had to turn his head as he nodded because he could feel heat creep up it.
"oh, yes, xiao! sorry, I wasn't expecting you to call so soon. what can I do for you?"
“you asked on the train if I could tutor you. I wanted to set something up.”
it’s true, even if xiao can’t believe it himself. he knew this day would come, but didn’t expect it to be this soon. after several minutes of silence between you two, (or at least as silent as it could be on a train), you had turned to him, as if remembering something, getting his attention before you asked him something.
“sorry if this is coming out of nowhere. I was wondering if…” you took a breath, and xiao had almost sworn you were bordering scared as you finished your question. “I was wondering if you could possibly tutor me for zhonglis class? I don’t know if you’d be able to, but I spoke to him earlier today, and he recommended asking you for help.”
and of course he had said yes, to your surprise. he remembers thinking, silently, that maybe the universe was rewarding him for being so patient, and he had to keep his cool the best he could.
now here he is, actually setting something up. “would tomorrow with you?”
"yes!," you let out a nervous little laugh at your uncontrollable excitement. xiao can just picture the smile you have on your face, all shy and awkward and cute. "that would work great, I think. I really wasn't expecting you to set something up so quickly. I'm grateful though."
xiao would make the tutoring session today during the dead of night if he could. of course he would set something up so quickly.
you don't need to know that, though.
xiao hums at your words. "we… we can have our first session at my place, if you're comfortable with that." he realizes he might be coming off too strong, so he adds, "but we can have it somewhere else too." he hopes you agree to the first suggestion though.
"t-that'd be great, yeah. whatever works for you, works for me."
"I'll text you the address and the time, then… and we can discuss more sessions or a schedule and stuff further.”
"that sounds good. thank you so much again." you repeat, and he can hear the relief in your voice. it should be him thanking you, really.
"of course. goodnight."
“goodnight!” you repeat before you both hang up. a wave of bliss strikes his body.
but he isn’t going to sleep, not yet, atleast. Instead, he’s going to stay up all night, right in front of his window, thinking of all the possible lives he’s about to live.
he’ll make sure to thank zhongli for that in the morning.
ーーー NEW MESSAGE ーーー ☆
[name]: I don't think you understand how nervous I am right now
[name]: my hands are shaking and everything
alatus: why? is something wrong?
[name]: you know how I told you how I wasn't doing the greatest in one of my courses?
alatus: of course. did something happen?
[name]: the most intimidating guy I've ever met in my life is my tutor now
[name]: and I have no idea how this first session is gonna go
alatus: I think you’ll be fine. you shouldn’t worry yourself
alatus: you should let me know how everything goes.
ーーー☆
xiao's home is, to put it simply, unique.
you were left awestruck as soon as you stepped into the small but gorgeous studio apartment, shocked by both the feeling of jealousy creeping up your spine and the thought of how someone could possibly afford such an apartment, especially as a college student. no matter how xiao manages to afford his place, though, his home daunts over you.
there's a large window that lines the wall his bed and desk are propped up against and you can't help but imagine just how xiao would look as he looked out of it and at the bustling city. the glass is frosted and wet from the pitter pattering rain that seems to persist in the cool weather of october. it's a little messy, books scattered about here and there and takeout bags littering the table, and the amount of lighting in this room seems to be as minimal (and as cold) as can be, but it's nothing too bad at all. nothing that you could complain about, at least.
there's so many things inside his house, so many things your eyes are drawn to, like his big bookcase and comfy bed and his expensive computer setup, and yet it feels so... lonely. devoid of life, even. maybe it's the look of the gloomy black walls and the fact that the only lighting xiao has is a tall floor lamp and the light that comes through his window, but you've never seen such a full home feel so empty. no plants except for one little succulent that's looking worse for wear, no photos of friends or family, no bright colors, no pets to breathe life into the place, no companion to help make this house a home. nothing.
you're suddenly grateful you have such a lively roommate.
it's been a few minutes since xiao had let you in, greeting you in his comfy hoodie and baggy pants, hair put up into a messy bun, before attending to something on his computer (an important email you think, or at least something along those likes, something urgent), telling you to sit wherever you'd like and that he'll be with you shortly. you had nodded while leaving your shoes at the door, asking him if his bed would be a seat he's okay with you being on, garnering a hum in response from him.
"...I'll sit here then, since it'll be close to you and stuff," you murmur, admittedly a bit more nervous and unconfident sounding than you'd like. you plop yourself onto xiao's bed, placing your bag at your feet in front of the bed for easy access. xiao takes what's meant to be a quick glance at you, but he's unable to look away.
he knows it's creepy to say, especially when you're just sitting down so innocently, but the sight is better than what he's fantasized about. he's thought of you so many times in his bed, cuddling with him and running your hands through his hair and letting him press kisses into your face and collar bones. he's thought about waking you up with breakfast and how you'd smile and thank him even if he can't cook very well, but he's willing to learn a couple recipes for you. he's thought about laying there with you after a long day, letting you ramble as he listened like he does as alatus. he's thought about how he'd great you once he comes home like you probably do with venti, watching your form as he wait on his bed for him.
and, most of all, he's thought about the way you'd cry and sob and call him a monster once the day that you find out that his bed is now yours and that this apartment is now your home, trapped forever with him, finally comes.
one day you'll be here permanently, he's sure of it. baby steps first, though.
xiao doesn't realize that in the midst of his thinking, he's been absolutely staring you down, and considering that xiao has a naturally viscous (bitchy) looking resting face, you can't help but squirm under his gaze. "xiao? I can... move, if you'd like."
"no, I just..." he clears his throat before looking back at the work in front of him. "sorry, I zoned out for a second. you can stay there if it feels comfortable. whatever you want." the words come out as a sort of awkward, almost inaudible mumble.
is this supposed to be as awkward and tense feeling as it is?
you nod at his words, albeit a little hesitant, further settling into the soft plush of his bed. your brain is still convinced that he might want you to move, but you decide to just stay where you are. you reach down from your seat, pulling out everything you would need from your bag, waiting patiently for any instructions. the soft clicking of xiao's keyboard and the sound of rain hitting against the window fill the otherwise silent room, and honestly, given the atmosphere and the way xiao's room is so dark and cozy and how warm and inviting his bed is, you're tempted to fall asleep.
xiao's presence, though nerve-wracking, makes you feel at home. it feels familiar. you wouldn't mind falling asleep near him again.
but today's (sadly) not the day for resting. xiao finishes whatever he's working on, closing out of the tab and turning his chair to face your spot on the bed. he brushes a piece of his hair back and out of the way, uncovering the eyebrow piercing the bothersome piece had previously hid. his eyes look dead, tired dark circles laying underneath, and yet he still forces himself to speak, like a zombie who simply refuses to just give up and die.
"did you have anything specific in mind that you want to go over?"
you take a second to think, humming in response. zhongli never truly specified what you needed to brush up upon, only that the last few assignments weren't up to his standards, whatever that means. "I don't know. maybe everything from the last few weeks? I'm not so sure."
he too lets out a soft little hum as he thinks for a moment. he's never tutored before, and he's pretty sure he doesn't even have the qualifications to actually be of any sort of help. he makes it up as he goes.
“on the back of your textbook, there's a study guide that covers all the chapters inside." he gently motions for you to give him the book sitting on your lap, flipping to the page before handing it back to you. "I want you to do the questions of the study guide that cover the chapters we've already read in class. then I'll... assess you from there, and we can come up with a plan.”
it seems like a lot of work, and that's because it is. the longer you spend here (the more he can milk this session for everything it's worth), the better.
you nod, moving to get to work immediately, putting your full effort into the task at hand. you both work silently, xiao clicking at his keys alongside the noise of you flipping through the pages of your textbook and jotting answers down. the noises compliment one another well, creating a lingering sense of peace and calm in the air. you find yourself getting stuck on one or two of the questions, but… surprisingly breezing through the rest, and after a while of working, you gently speak his name, alerting him that you've finished. he’s quick to take your work, starting his inspection of it.
your hands can’t help but get a little clammy as you watch as he reads through your answers, analyzing each and every single written word. in the meantime, you’re doing a little analysis of your own, trying to distract your mind from feeling any more nervous than you realistically should.
your eyes flick from his messy hair, to the beauty mark almost right in the middle of his forehead, then to the soft dusting of red eyeshadow under his eyes. you look at how he runs a finger against the words on the page, too, almost subconsciously, and though you can’t really tell from this angle what he’s doing, you think he’s more so tracing the letters you’ve written than using it as a means to follow along. he almost looks entranced. you don’t know what to expect from xiao, can’t even guess what he’s thinking, and the furrowed eyebrows on his face definitely don’t make you feel any better.
you sit there, idley, awkwardly, fidgeting for what seemed like more than just a few minutes, before xiao finally speaks up.
you can barely hear him as he speaks, his words hushed and muffled. "you... need a lot of brushing up on the content, and your answers… lack good explanations and reasoning." he hands you back your work, sending you an almost sympathetic look. "I can see why zhongli believes you need help,” he adds.
it's a lie, of course, but you don't need to know that, not when zhongli had so delicately laid down the groundwork for all of this to happen in the first place. most of your answers were just fine as is, at least from what he lightly skimmed through.
still, he can't help but feel guilty when that look of embarrassment washes over your face.
for some reason you feel yourself get overwhelmed with emotion. you thought that maybe, just maybe, zhongli was simply just messing with you, as was notorious with the man and his teaching methods. but there's a stark sense of embarrassment that comes from xiao reaffirming what zhongli had said, an embarrassment so strong it sends your entire body ablaze with heat.
you can't help but awkwardly shift in your seat as you nod along to his words despite the way your head almost feels too heavy to lift, avoiding eye contact lest he sees you so embarrassed over something so... silly, a miniscule problem at best, something fixable with a bit of elbow grease and time, and yet it means way more than it should to you.
you've worked so hard in this class already. why aren't you improving?
he doesn’t let you really catch your breath before he speaks again. "I think we'll need a couple more sessions than we discussed earlier," he mumbles, again, as though too ashamed to speak up, flipping through his own textbook, face in his hand as he thinks. "I want to make sure we can get as much content covered as possible before the end of the semester and catch you back up, since you seem to be..." xiao takes a quick glance at you, and for a moment, just a split second, he sees you, sees inside of you, sees every little thing you've been keeping bottled up, your fear. he looks away, breath hitching out of complete and utter guilt. he forces himself to continue though.
"...behind," he finishes, the single word said notably softer than the rest of the sentence.
xiao forces himself to swallow down his guilt. truly, he feels terrible about lying about this, because you clearly seem to be doing just fine on you own and lord knows how much stress this entire ordeal is causing you, but what's the use of being presented and blessed by the gods themselves with such an amazing opportunity if his sinning hands can't take it out of greed? xiao hates it, but he's always been more of a taker than a giver, taking all he can from people and leaving nothing left of them.
the simple pure utter bliss at the thought of spending hours and hours with you, in his room, alone, intimately and in person instead of just being with you through a phone screen, extinguishes any guilt he could possibly feel.
you, on the other hand, do allow yourself to feel guilt, though it's a feeling that has much more innocent roots than what xiao feels. it's a feeling that pokes and stabs at you as you fumble for words to say. you're a much better person than xiao is in that regard. you can't help but to feel ashamed, ashamed that you were doing so terrible at a course that goes directly into your major that you would have to force xiaoー a man renowned for being a lonerー who surely would rather spend his free time by himself and not tutoring someone so out of your realm and element as you are.
maybe it's not too late after all to consider switching majors, you think.
"you seriously don't have to do that, I don't want to take more time from you than I'm already taking. honestly, I think I'm a bit of a lost cause at this point if I can't even do the simpler questions."
the truth is, not even xiao knows how scared you are. fear and dread soars through your body at the thought of ending up in the same spot you were in last year.
xiao lets out a sigh through his nose at your words, a noise that does nothing other than make you feel worse, especially when you can't read his emotions and tell what's going on in that labyrinth of a brain he has. maybe he's realized that you're not worth spending his time. maybe you really are a loss cause. maybe you really should change your major. maybe you should call it quits and drop out. maybe you should move countries, marry a rich doctor or a lawyer and spend the rest of your days as a glorified housespー
xiao doesn't let you finish your thoughts (plans), instead getting up from his chair slowly. "let's take a break." he says, and while you feel a break is a little undeserved after you haven't done much studying, you nod, thinking it might be best to just relax before jumping back into things. "taking things slowly is the better way to do things," you nod, although the words just barely register themselves in your head. you're surprisingly vulnerable with him.
"I'm... going to step out for a moment to get some air. I'll give you some time for yourself to think." you nod, giving him a small and meek thank you, genuinely so utterly grateful for all the time xiao has given you. you can't help yourself from bothering him just once more before he leaves, though.
"xiao?" you don't look up at him, eyes fixated on your answers and what must've been so wrong with them. you hear him hum, beckoning you to continue.
“do you think I'll be able to pass?”
"of course you will," he answers, and it's the first truth he's said all day.
"of course," he mumbles, this time lower, a reminder to himself of how you'd be completely fine on your own, and that he should never, ever take this opportunity for granted.
he makes a promise to himself that he won't.
----- NEW TEXT MESSAGE -----☆
zhongli: hello, [name]. xiao informed me earlier today that you two will be conducting your first study session today. I'm glad you spoke to him about tutoring like I had advised you to. how are things going?
[name]: it's going fine, he mostly just reaffirmed what you already told me though. but he's been really kind about it all, I'm grateful that he agreed to help me out.
zhongli: I see. I hope that he could give you a new perspective on things and aid you in your weak spots. xiao is an amazing student in his own right, and I'm sure that together, you two will make an amazing team. I'm glad you two are getting along.
zhongli: I'd like to give you a little heads up for a future assignment, but there will be a project upcoming where I'll be sure to partner you two up. I'm sure you two will impress me on what you come up with.
zhongli: I believe in you, [name], and I expect good things coming forward.
zhongli: I'm sure that xiao is grateful as well.
[name]: thank you.
[name]: I hope to meet your standards as best as I can.
-----☆
the apartment is even quieter than it was before without xiao.
it's lonely, too.
in a way, you used this little moment to yourself as a justification and way to figure out just what exactly is the enigma that is xiao. now that you're by yourself, you find yourself looking around at his walls, glancing over at one of the two of his cork boards that seems to have a bunch of what looks to be memorabilia of all sorts, stuff like old music concert tickets of local bands you've never heard of, polaroids with some familiar places and even some of his friends, post-it note scribbles of different tasks he has to get done, among other things.
you visualize yourself looking at the corkboard as though it's those ones in those crime movies, where you're using red yarn to connect the pieces of a story together, figuring out with all the clues you have at your disposal who xiao is.
there's other things, too. posters lining the wall and a singular cat shaped plushie on his bed, a wilted bouquet of flowers in a vase on his kitchen countertop meant for decoration, various little knick knacks on his desk, but the part of his room that catches your eye most, though, is his large, expansive bookshelf filled (a little messily) with a variety of different things, almost all of it stuff you actually recognize.
you’re halfway through looking around before you hear the door open back up again. you instinctually freeze, as of you’re a kid who’s been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. you shift your head, locking eyes with him as he steps back inside. to your surprise, he doesn’t look upset, not even annoyed, just intrigued as he watches you awkwardly shuffle away a little from the bookshelves.
you try to apologize with hast. “sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop or anything, I swear, I was just–“
xiaos quick to interject as he walks right past you over to sit, this time on his bed instead of at his desk. “it’s fine. I don’t mind. you don’t have to apologize.” he crosses his arms once he’s situated in his seat. “do whatever you’d like.” he adds in an attempt to comfort you.
it sounds sarcastic, but you somehow can tell that it’s not. you nod, taking it as (hoping that it’s) permission to keep going. your eyes move over to the other corkboard near the bookshelves, hoping that you’re not stepping over any boundaries by doing so. this board is filled more with many different photos pinned up onto it. there’s all sorts of sites and places, things like concerts or shops or restaurants or nature– the list goes on– with a rare one or two photos with him actually in it. even rarer seemed to be other people that didn’t look like strangers in the background.
you subconsciously speak a thought aloud. “you seem to go out a lot. to really cool places, too.”
the only thing he really says in response is, “all of those aren’t recent.”
you hum in response, eyebrows furrowing a little as you nod in understanding. “oh, I see.” xiao takes it as an opportunity to ask you something even though he knows the answer already. “what about you? do you go out a lot?”
the question takes you a little aback. “I haven’t gotten out a lot recently either.” you try to think about all you’ve done recently, before realizing there’s nothing much to think about at all. you add, in truth, “…you’re honestly the first person I’ve spent time with in a while that wasn’t my roommate, but I don’t think that really counts.”
he cocks his head to the side at that answer, golden eyes staring at you (almost straight through your soul), intrigued. “why haven’t you spent time with anyone else?
a soft pang hits your heart as you think about the reason. the breakup. despite how much time has gone by, you’re still tender about the topic, and would rather not think about everything it’s caused as a result. would rather not think about him, either.
you let out a nervous laugh. “that’s a long story, I guess.”
xiao seems dissatisfied with that answer. he’s never responded so quickly, without hesitating before.
“I have time.”
you send a look of slight confusion his way. “I thought we were going to study some more today?”
“right…” xiao let’s a lot of dead air slip in whenever he speaks, pausing and hanging onto words as if he’s doing mental calculations to figure out what the right thing to say next. “…in the future, then.”
you nod as your eye continues it’s adventure through the board before another photo catches your attention fully. it’s a pretty photo of a bunch of people standing near the docks, holding up and letting go of lanterns. it looks like, judging from the date scribbled on the bottom of the photo and the contents of the photo itself, the annual lantern rite from a few years back. you remember that day, almost vividly, too. that was your first year at the school. you and venti had gone together that year. it was magical. it seems like xiao really was never too far from you. seriously, you’re surprised you two haven’t talked sooner.
you can’t help but smile as you reminisce on that day. “I remember this exact lantern rite. there was so many people, and the lanterns were so beautiful. they always are.”
you turn around to face him, again. “how long has it been since you’ve gone to the harbor? if I lived as close as you do, I think I’d go to the harbor whenever I have time.”
it takes awhile for xiao to respond, not because he’s thinking of an answer, but because he’s transfixed on your expression right now. you seem so happy that it naturally just pulls on his heart strings. he’s glad you still remember that particular lantern rite, even though he knows you’ve gone to more since then. xiao remembers that day visibly too, but probably (definitely) not for the same you do. he wonders if you remember that part of it deep inside.
“um… since the day of that photo, probably.”
you’re a little taken aback from that answer. xiao lives on the outskirts of the harbor. how could he have not gone back in years? everything you learn about xiao makes you more and more curious as to who he is. “really?” you can’t help but ask. he can’t help but shrug.
you speak without even thinking twice once more. “would you want to go again sometime then?” your eyes dart away from his face. you can’t help but look away before you finish the question, unable to look him in the eye as you clarify, “with me, I mean.” you stumble out the words more confidently than you exprcted.
he lets out a sigh. “there’s nothing I want from there…” it’s the truth. he hasn’t been very fond of the harbor for what has felt like centuries, especially not the memories he’s tethered to. he can’t help but to regret the accidental roughness of his words, though, when he looks up to see a flash of embarrassment paint across your face. it feels like he picked the wrong answer, but he wants to say the right one, desperately. xiao has never been great at talking, but he’s trying, for you. “but if you’d like… I’d like to go with you.”
you try to hide the way your heart picks up the pace a little at his words. “let’s go soon, then. I can tell you about myself, and you can tell me about you, too.”
he nods, and for a split second you think you’ve gone insane, because you swear, swear, that for a few seconds, the corner of xiao’s lips curve softly into a smile. a smile! smiling at the thought of you two ‘hanging out’ in the future! for all the times you’ve seen xiao, you can maybe only count on one hand how many times you’ve seen him smile.
“you want to learn about me?” he asks, earnestly, shocked, and it definitely wasn’t a question you were expecting.
“yeah, I mean I've always seen you around. I think we've even been in the same classes before this year, too, and now I’m getting tutored by you and I still know pretty much nothing about you.” you pause before adding on, “I’d love to learn more. I hope that’s not weird, or anything.”
he shakes his head, the ghost of a smile still etched onto his lips. and if you looked closely (which luckily for him, you weren’t), you’d see the faint dust of blush decorating his cheeks, too. “I don’t have much to tell you, but… that sounds good.”
he feels embarrassed at the fact he can’t control how warm his cheeks feel and how he can’t help but crack a smile at you. he clears his throat, trying to reset himself, suddenly ready to move on, going back to his desk.
“let’s keep working, I want to make the most out of the time we have together.” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. you mentally brace yourself for another study session with him.
it’s gonna be a long night.
ーーー NEW MESSAGE ーーー ☆
ven: where have you been?
ven: haven’t seen you all day……….. ):
ven: my flower, the house is so empty without you……….. ))):
ven: are you with somebody? you never tell me these things anymore.
ven: talk to me soon, please.
ーーー ☆
it's late into the night when you're awakened rudely with a few desperate knocks against your bedroom door.
you can't help but groan as you stir awake, upset to be forced out of your dream state, although that irritation is soon replaced with guilt once you realize just why you were being awakened with such urgency in the first place. after whining out a loud, 'come in,' you peak your eyes open to see your best friend standing in your doorway, tears staining his face so much that they're visible even in the darkness.
shit. it's been so long since you've seen venti like this. you thought all of that was over ages ago.
"can I sleep with you tonight?" his voice is shakey yet gentle, filled with fear and something that you can only label as... need, as if he needs you more than he ever has. just his voice alone, paired with the way he looks so in the doorway while he's shivering and fiddling with his pajamas, hair looking almost as distraught as he's feeling, is enough to have you too stunned to speak.
"please?" he adds on when you don't reply immediately.
you nod, scooting over to make room for him as he slowly trudges to your bed like he's done many times before. he's quick to settle in under the covers with you, laying against the plush pillow underneath him. you move closer to him as though it's instinct, an action done out of retained muscle memory from the many nights you've spent doing this exact thing. your eyes, though half lidded and heavy, trace over his face over and over again, noting how his eyes look back at you and you can't help but think that venti is such an expressive person. even if he's so silent right now, his eyes are cloudy and storming, speaking a thousand words with the thunder that rings out within them.
he looks like he's trying to think of what to say, but he doesn't need to say a single thing. you already know why he's here.
his face is contorted in a way that almost showcases utter agony, and it hurts, hurts to see your best friend suffering, especially when the best you can do is guide your hand softly against the smooth the skin of his cheek and brushing away any tears in pity. if nothing else, you truly do hope that, at the very least, your presence can help.
“do you maybe want to talk about it?” you run your hand through his soft, pretty dyed blue locks that seem to almost glow in the moonlight, feeling the light moisture of his skin from his sweat. you’ve forgotten just how easy it always has been to brush your hand through his locks. your voice is gentle and low as if not to startle him, as if not to shatter him more than he already is. “you know you don’t have to, but you can always talk to me if you need to.”
“no, it’s okay... I just want to be with you right now.” his voice is meek as he chooses his words carefully as though they're meticulously chosen to pull at your heartstrings (they do), and he sounds like he’s on the brink of tears once more.
“is it the same dream as before?” you ask, remembering how many nights you've spent with venti just like this when he began getting frequent ‘nightmares’ awhile back, nightmares that till this day you don't know the contents of.
he nods, although hesitantly, as though it’s some sort of secret. and in a way, it is.
he could never, ever, ever tell you that you’re the cause of all of his nightmares after all.
“are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? you look really upset. you've never told me what makes you like this.”
“no, I just want to… I just want to stay like this for a while.”
“okay, ven,” you whisper, soft and quiet, as if your voice could shatter him whole. you pause, thinking of what to say, before you decide that you won’t prode any further, instead bidding him a goodnight. “I love you, venti. get some rest.”
for the first time in maybe months, venti doesn’t tell you he loves you back.
instead he burrows himself as deep as humanly possible, as if being torn away from you would kill him, just like the way his dreams pulled and tugged ruthlessly at his heart strings, shoving images of you with your new 'tutor' down his throat, like they had with him months and months ago.
how cruel is it that he's forced to see you being ripped away from him both in real life and in his dreams?
-----☆
you're half asleep when you feel him mumble into your skin.
"I miss you. I miss this." he whispers, but you can barely hear him. he misses the way you feel, how comforting you smell, how his hands connect with your body like they're puzzle pieces. he misses having all your attention on him like this, so quick to coo and ask if he's okay. everything’s changed from how it used to be.
"what?"
you feel venti's hands slip under your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your back as he slowly trails his hands up and down, basking in the way that you feel. "I miss you, cecilia. especially today." his voice isn't shakey anymore. instead it's much more fluid, as though he never had the night terrors that brought him into your room to begin with. you can't help but frown at his words even in your sleepy state.
"venti..." you mumble out, feeling his hands start to dig themselves into your skin. his grip on your waist is tightー not enough for it to hurt, but just enough that it keeps you from pushing him away if you really wanted to, trapping and suffocating you, bordering the lines of sucking the air out of your lungs.
part of you wishes he wouldn't keep things so bottled up from you, because clearly, your constant 'absence' in his life is hurting him more than you'll ever be able to understand, but the more selfish part of you is shamefully grateful that he is. you love venti, but for a man who constantly champions for freedom, he's always been so dead set on taking away yours.
you know deep down that if you gave venti an inch, he'd take a mile, and you don't have many miles left to give. you could spend twenty-four hours of a day with venti and he would still want you to somehow spend twenty-five on him. as much as you love ventiー truly, you love him more than anything else in the worldー, you know it'd be better if you didn't indulge him as much as you want him to. lord knows how quick venti would be to turn you into a hollow, empty shell of yourself by taking every second you have all for himself if he could.
besides, this whole thing will blow over eventually after the party, right?
right?
"I know that I've already whined and complained about it, but god, I miss you. you were gone for so long today with someone I don't even know… seeing you occasionally here and there isn't enough for me. I..." venti somehow manages to pull his body even closer to you, your chest and his chest plush against each other, so close that you can feel the way it rises as he breathes slowly. "I know I'm selfish, but I need you."
he says the word 'need' as if he'd die without you.
you don't think this is a conversation you two should be having when you're so... out of it, exhausted.
"venti, can we talk about this in the morning?"
his grip slowly loosens. "...okay." he says the word slowly and hesitantly, as if he's a child saying a cuss word for the first time, as if agreeing to put his feelings aside until you're in a much more lucid and conscious state is a sin. "I'm... I'm sorry for bothering you and being so clingy and... I just..." venti swallows thickly. "goodnight," venti mumbles, choosing not to finish his thought.
your eyebrows furrow, something about this whole conversation feeling off to you. never in a million years would venti have been so... upfront, apart from the day he invited you to the party. it's like venti's slowly unraveling like a string, just one little tug away from snapping.
it wouldn't be the first time venti's snapped on you though. you need to mend things and shut off the ticking time bomb before things blow up in your face again, like when you...
like when you...
ugh. you'll think about all of this later when you're actually well-rested and capable of forming cohesive thoughts. you softly mumble out a goodnight to venti as well, praying that the storm will blow off soon enough.
it doesn't, though. the winds only get stronger and louder.
ーーー☆
venti wasn't in your room by the time you woke up. infact, he wasn't in the apartment at all. not in his room, not in the kitchen or in the bathroom getting ready, nowhere. he didn't even leave a text telling you where he went.
you guess that venti needs time to think after last night, and you decide that it's probably for the best.
you'll see him again later anyways.
ーーー☆
it's cold out today, october's chill punishing you for wearing too light of a sweater for the weather, but the freezing temperature of the classroom during today's lecture isn't the cause of the way you squirm in your seat out of discomfort. no, you have professor zhongli to take credit for that.
you're convinced that zhongli gets a kick out of giving you borderline heart attacks.
honestly, that isn't exactly far from the truth. there's something about the way your eyes flicker in complete, utter fear just by him saying, "[name], may you please see me after class? there's something I'd like to discuss with you," that sends shivers down his spine, as egregious as that may sound. it's a shameful feeling for a professor to have, but at least he has much more innocent intentions this time as opposed to the last time he's asked you to stay behind.
the request was given to you right at the start of class (which you were actually on time to, thank god) before he began with his lecture. and once again, you couldn't help but think about just what exactly zhongli wanted to discuss with you throughout the entire lecture, almost too busy coming up with theories to focus. all you can think is, did you do something wrong again? was the assignment you turned in last night bad? all that studying you did with xiao couldn’t have been for nothing, right? you're going to fail the semester at this rate.
you wish zhongli was more dead set on helping you pass like last year than assuring that you failed.
you can’t help but call back to that time. you had been much worse off back then. you were visibly behind everyone else, but it hadn't started that way. so much was happening back then. and that breakup, oh that fucking break up, really made focusing on your school work beyond difficult. you truly did put up a fight, tried to make sure you stayed afloat, and it did work at first. but your responsibilities drowned you completely, and you never really learned how to swim.
it was a rough semester, and one of your classes had been taught by the very same man taking great pleasure in ruining you today. your one saving grace? once again, the very same man, who had seemed to take enough pity onto you that he took matters into his own hands to make sure you did well.
you stood out back then, not because you shone bright, but because you didn't shine at all.
zhongli wanted to light that fire back in you that you had at the start of the year. and he had.
zhongli had took you under his wing, struck you with passion and drive, made you fall in love all over again with the topic you were studying through his ramblings and stories and sheer utter knowledge; he revitalized you, filled a hole. he had kept you after class and in his office on weekends, making time to make sure that you succeeded and through his gentle nurturing that was the hot to his own cold. you had succeeded, to your surprise. and he had looked after you ever since.
it was silly for you to believe that he would grace you with the same mercy this course.
but things are different now. so much more different. you were grateful back then for him striving to push you to do better, but now it's overwhelming. back then, his standards were achievableー finish your assignments on time as often as you could, study a little when you can, at least attempt to attend every class you had. it was doable. but now, now you're almost convinced he wants you to become borderline perfectー no, perfect is an understatement. he wants you to be better than perfect.
perfect, and vulnerable.
back then it felt as though he was trying to help you but now, the back of your mind can't help but tell you that he's always been helping himself, benefiting himself, not you.
it was at the start of this school year that you let yourself fall right into the dragon's lair.
either way, maybe it's the fact that your mind was so occupied, or maybe time simply just decided to speed up, but the class flew by in no time. you had practically tuned out all of zhongli's ramblings and teachings today. you watched zhongli dismiss the class, staying seated despite the way everyone else shuffled out of the door as quickly as possible. once again, it was just you and zhongli in the empty room.
fuck.
zhongli walks to the front of your desk, running a hand through his hair before letting out a long sigh, and you never knew how such a little harmless action could strike so much fear into your heart. could you just combust already? you're not at all ready for whatever zhongli has to say.
"what a long class we had today, hm? I hope I didn't bore you too much. you looked particularly distracted." zhongli says, smiling gently at you as he attempts to brighten the gloomy mood you're clearly in. "luckily, though, I've been excited to talk to you all class. you truly were my saving grace today."
is this some kind of sick joke? you were kidding when you thought zhongli must get pleasure out of your failure, but you might actually be right.
gross.
"don't worry, though, I didn't keep you after class just to complain. I'll get to the point, since I know you hate pointless chatter."
"I know it's far too early to say this, but I'm proud of you, [name]."
that caring nature still shines through, the strict professor he's supposed to be eroded and washed away by time itself.
your eyebrows furrow. "what?" you can’t help but let the word slip out of your mouth in the midst of your confusion.
"the assignment you gave in last night, truly one of your best works this semester. you never fail to amaze me with how fast you manage to make a turnaround when you put your mind to it, [name]."
the assignment? the one you worked on last night at the last second despite having over a week to do it after studying with xiao that you had to keep your eyes pried open to complete? the one xiao had borderline picked apart a dozen times as though trying to break you down even more? that assignment?
what?
"but I... what? if it was any good, it's likely only because xiao was there to help me." you mumble, unsure of your words.
"so? are you really diminishing your accomplishments just because you got a little aid?" zhongli plants a hand on your cheek like he has a dozen times in the past before guiding your face to look up at him. "or are you trying to say that it was xiao who had done your assignment, not you?"
"o-of course he didn't, but-" zhongli is quick to shush you, pressing a gloved thumb against your lips with a soft smile.
"shh. you did well, and that's final. I hope this pattern continues. you know I want nothing but the best for you after seeing what you can achieve." his gloved hand caresses your cheek and you're convinced he can feel the heat your face is producing out of embarrassment even through the layer of fabric. "my little star, you're doing well again." he adds quietly, so quietly that you can just barely make it out, though the nickname is far less shocking than the praise that your brain is still trying to make sense of.
"before I let you go, I just wanted to reiterate that should you ever need my assistance with anythingー and I mean anything at all, whether it's related to your academics or notー know that I am and always will be here."
"I... thank you." it's the only words you can come up with as zhongli leaves you alone with your thoughts. "thank you," you repeat, speaking the words much more quietly. in a hushed whisper.
in the back of your mind, you realize that you should be thinking about how odd it is for zhongli to suddenly be so sugary sweet, how he's touched you so much more intimately than a professor should, how his little nickname for you is weird at best, and yet all you can think about is how he's proud of you.
for some reason, that's all that really matters to you in the moment. you can think about... all that other stuff, later.
ーーー☆
it's almost pitch dark out by the time you finally get home.
"I'm home!" you shout out as soon as you step through the front door, voice a little breathy after having to climb up a few flights of stairs to get up to your apartment, alerting venti that you've arrived in a way akin to how married couples do. you're quick to lock the door behind you, stripping yourself of your shoes that feel more like weights before placing them in the shoe rack near the door and putting your heavy bag down next to venti's violin case, deciding you'll bother with getting whatever you need out of there when you feel like it. you wince a little at the cold tiles of the floor underneath your feet.
maybe one day you'll move into a place with an actual heater, you think.
"I'll be there in just a second!" venti's voice rings out from what you assume is the bathroom down the hall, likely showering given the pitter-pattering sound of running water. you nod, as though responding to him despite the fact he can't see you, flicking on the light switch to the kitchen as you do so. the kitchen table immediately grabs your attention with how different it looks compared to how you left it this morning. two orange pumpkins sit at the center, and alongside it lays an unopened package of carving tools and another package of tea lights, a brown bag filled with what looks to be some house decor and knick knacks (venti truly does love trying to make your run-down apartment as much of a true home as possible), and a bag of groceries yet to be put away.
you sit down at the medium sized wooden table, allowing yourself to rest and bask in the day as you look through everything infront of you. it's been awhile since you've just sat in silence and thought, and even longer since you let yourself really live in this home without just heading straight to your room. your nails drill against the table, pushing one of the two pumpkins closer to you with a soft hum. you trace a finger against it, imaginging what'd you want to carve on it and how it'd glow after you put a candle inside.
this year you should do something new, get a little more fancier with the design that you have in the previous years that you craved a pumpkin. maybe you and venti will carve matching jack-o-laterns this year. you can't help but smile at the thought.
"they're cute, aren't they?"
you tense up when you feel a hand on your shoulder, but you instantly relax when you turn your head to see venti. you guess you were so lost in thought you hadn't heard him come out of the bathroom. you drink in his presence, giving him a glance over out of instinct. the smell of his apple-cinnamon bodywash assault your senses in an oddly comforting way, a scent that makes you feel right at home. he's in a pair pajamas and cute bunny slippers, and his hair is clipped up in a pretty half up, half down ponytail. the blue dyed tips of his hair are losing their signature color (which is odd, considering that despite his inherit laziness, venti's always been one to make sure those tips stay bright blue at all costs) and his skin looks a little damp.
a gummy smile paints his face, and he has a bit of a playful glint in his eye, but he looks notably tired, and a sense of worry pings at your heart at the sight. you were the roommate notorious for having bags under your eyes afterall, not him, so to see him look so exhausted, especially when venti's always been one for getting his 'beauty sleep,' tells you that venti internally isn't feeling his best. it sounds shallow, judging someone's mental health based on their appearance, but you know venti like the back of your hand, and you know that something's wrong.
even moreso, you know exactly what that wrong thing is, given last night's conversation.
"I got them at the grocery store today. thought it might be fun to carve them together before they go bad. that is, if you want to grace me with your undivided time and attention, of course." venti pretends he's joking, but you know deep down he means the sentiment of wanting you to give him your time for once, and you honestly feel awful at his words. nonetheless, you suck it up, smiling up at him. it's a genuine smile.
"why wouldn't I? it is tradition after all. I'm going to make mine extra scary this year."
venti laughs at your words, his heart internally flutter at the thought of how determined your face would look as you try to create the spookiest jack-o-latern he's ever seen. he leans down, pressing a soft, platonic peck to your forehead, finally giving you a welcome home.
"you're home later than usual again, everything go okay?"
you can't help but notice that venti is acting as if he had never said what he said last night, though the air between you is still awkward and tense, and his face does little to hide the fact that deep down, he's still quelling on the things he spoke about. nonetheless, you decide that that conversation is to be had when venti wants it to happen, knowing full well from years of being his best friend that venti prefers keeping a lighter mood at all costs, so you leave things at that until he's ready to speak about it again.
"yeah, I just thought that I'd try to get some work done while I could at campus," you answer, watching as he nods slowly at your words. you can tell he's fighting back the urge to interrogate you, to ask you if you were with anybody and if you really needed to stay at campus, and anything else he can use as a way to rationalize the fact that he's so clingy. he looks around the room, thinking about what else he could say to make sure the conversation doesn't end prematurely.
"oh! I ordered some takeout a bit before you came home. it's still hot, if you want to eat."
you nod, thanking him, and you can tell he's trying to read you, to figure out just how exactly he can stay with you longer without him bringing up anything you two talked about last night. he stands there, presence lingering as though he has something to say, and yet he chooses not to say whatever's on his mind, instead preferring to pick up the unopened bottle of dandelion wine on the nearby kitchen counter.
"you seem all set. I'll get going now, then. I have an urgent date with a bottle of wine that I can't miss for the world." venti moves quickly to leave as though trying to make sure you don't see through to him, turning his back to you without another word, but he doesn't get too far before he's freezing up at your words.
"you're not gonna stay and chat?" you say instinctively, a little surprised by the fact he was so quick to come and go today. you don't know what it is about today, but the thought of venti forcing himself to go when he clearly doesn't want to pains you. maybe it was last night's conversation, or maybe it's how venti radiates warmth that fights against the biting cold that nips at your skin, or maybe you just miss venti, but you want him here with you.
venti turns around slowly, his voice low as he speaks. "oh..." he starts off, "I thought you would've wanted to eat alone like all the other nights," you almost let out a wince at his words. how long has it really been since you last simply hung out with venti? "do you... want me to stay?" you let out a gentle hum.
"I want you here tonight. I want to talk to you."
"about what?"
you think about everything you'd want to tell venti, and you realize that that's exactly it; you want to tell him everything and anything you can. you want to tell him about your new tutor who turned out to be a lot less scary than you were expecting him to be, or that new coffee shop a friend had told you about that opened up near by that you'd love to tell him about, or how zhongli was actually kind to you today. but you also want venti to tell you everything too, about any escapades he's had recently while drunk or new songs he's written, or even how his classes are going and if he's thinking of going to any other parties soon.
you realize that, as much as you'd hate to admit it to yourself, you miss just being with venti a lot too.
"everything," you finally reply after thinking, grinning up at his hesitant form.
"everything? really? this isn't a ploy to tell me horrific news or to try to get out of going to that party, is it?"
"no, I promise. I'm honestly a bit offended you'd think I'd ever be so cruel as to try to get out of going to such an amazing party," you joke.
venti playfully rolls his eyes at your words, but he can't help the smile that creeps up his face. his smile is bright like a star, warm enough for a planet to survive off of, eyelids crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he puts the bottle in his hand down befofe he pulls up one of the kitchen chairs, the legs screeching against the floor so that he's sitting infront of you. he leans in close to you as though you were about to tell him the greatest story known to man. you can't help but feel warm and fuzzy inside. venti's smile, his real and genuine smile, gives you a feeling like no other. it makes you feel whole, like none of your problems neither exist nor matter and that everything in this world is perfect.
"okay then, dove, tell me everything."
ーーー NEW TEXT MESSAGE ーーー☆
alatus: can you believe it's almost sunday already?
[name]: holy shit, time is going by so fast
[name]: I'm so excited to meet you in person
alatus: I'm excited too.
[name]: I can't believe I've known you for over a year and I'm only going to get to see your face now
[name]: I swear, if you're just some creep...
alatus: I promise I'm not.
alatus: well, maybe.
[name]: ha ha, very funny.
[name]: but seriously, it honestly feels like I've known you for forever.
alatus: maybe you have and you just never noticed
#tw stalking#tw age gap#tw possession#tw student teacher relationship#tw yandere#tw manipulation#yandere xiao x reader#yandere venti x reader#yandere zhongli x reader#yandere Genshin impact x reader
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Jikook karma is real.
Everyone's seen the new photos circulating of Jimin and Jungkook, right? Right. Regardless of how we feel about those kinds of photos, the reality is that if they're posted somewhere, some KARMY will find them and spread them. But that's not the conversation right now.
Ever since Jin and eventually Hobi enlisted, those types of photos have been common to see in ARMY spaces, and personally, I rarely saw anyone complain about them. Until it was Jimin and Jungkook’s turn. There are photos and videos from Jin's graduation. I think there are also some from Hobi's graduation. There are videos and photos from Tae and Joon's graduation from different angles, and in general, the fandom was happy to see pictures and videos of those members. But when it came to Jimin and Jungkook, many "fans" got upset because they felt their privacy was being violated, or because we should only post photos they themselves shared, and who knows what else. Some people were angry because many fans reposted the photos that Jimin's dad and later Jungkook's brother posted. Some even had the audacity to be upset with Jimin's dad for posting pictures of his son, although I suppose the annoyance was about something else. The issue, as always, is Jimin and Jungkook together.
A few hours ago, new photos of Jimin and Jungkook started circulating. In one of them, they're near a podium with their arms around each other's shoulders, posing for a photo. At first, I think we all assumed they were taking a picture together, just the two of them, as always. At the same time, these photos were circulating; there were also some comments supposedly made by a soldier who was at the same training centre as them. The comments weren't that different from others we've read, but this one added that Jimin and Jungkook were always together, and well, pandemonium ensued.
From what I saw, some KARMY were upset, saying the photos were edited, the comments were false, and that a jikooker had made them up. This sentiment obviously spread to the international side of the fandom, and everyone seemed to be saying the same thing. Many jikookers received insults; some, I think, were reported, etc. The same old story. Until now.
It turns out the photos had been cropped, not edited. They were cropped to only show Jimin and Jungkook, and that particular photo that upset many is actually a group photo, and Jimin and Jungkook, for some reason, decided to pose for it in that way: together, with their arms around each other's shoulders. And this is where Jikook karma becomes real. Once again. Throughout the day, many said the photos were fake, edited, taken without permission. And it turns out they're part of an official army photo. And Jimin and Jungkook really posed that way.
For many of us, it's a matter of respect not to post photos of the guys in the army unless they or their family members with public social media accounts post them. Many of us don't even do it if they're official photos posted by the army. But for others, for many others, it's not about that. Not when it comes to photos of Jimin and Jungkook, at least. With photos of the other members, it seems there are no issues but when it comes to photos of Jimin and Jungkook the reaction is different. And Jikookers are of course, the bad guys.
Ever since they enlisted, the fandom, in general, has had problems with some fans posting photos any photo of Jimin and Jungkook, and their concern lies in the fact that practically in every photo, Jimin and Jungkook are together. Let's not kid ourselves. The same goes for the information that sometimes circulates about them; it's almost always mentioned that they are always together, supporting each other, etc. Obviously, that's the issue.
As I mentioned earlier, this problem doesn't seem to happen with the photos and information circulating about other members. I'm sure some do complain and disagree with it happening, but I haven't seen it reach the same level as when it involves Jimin and Jungkook.
This fandom, in general, has a problem with Jimin and Jungkook TOGETHER. These next 15 months will be miserable for them. And I sense that when the members finish their military service and resume group activities, it will be even worse.
Haters can say and do whatever they want, but that will NEVER change the fact that Jimin and Jungkook enlisted in the army together, enjoy being together, and the bond they share strengthens every day.
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𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖘
Covetous Namjoon is the gift that keeps on giving.
Pairing: Yandere Vampire Namjoon x Fem/AFAB Reader
Word Count: 6,211
Warnings: Yandere, Possessive, Obsession, Mild Choking, Fingering, Spanking, Smut, Biting, Blood
I do not condone the behavior being exhibited in my work. This is solely for entertainment purposes and I hope if any of you are ever in a situation like this that you have the chance and ability to run away from it. Take care out there.
DO NOT copy, edit, or repost my work anywhere.
A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! I'm still working on the OT7 Yandere fic but I wanted to gift you all something. We're paying Alternate Ending Covetous Namjoon a visit. Just a little smut to hold you all over until the OT7 fic comes out 😉
It's so cold out. You can hear the way the wind whistles and it's what initially stirred you from your slumber. That and a weight on your back that sends chills down your form. Your naked back is caressed slowly from the top and down the length of your skin in soothing touches. In soothing kisses. It feels nice but it's not what you want right now. What you want is to sleep some more as you revel in the warmth of the blankets that were slowly pulled from your flesh.
You tremble a little as your skin pricks in goosebumps. It's enough to make the weight on top of you chuckle deeply and spread open mouth kisses across your shoulders.
Whining you blindly reach for the covers that rest loosely around your naked waist. You try to tug it up and over yourself but it's pushed aside.
"No," you cry uselessly. "I'm cold."
The kisses stop for a moment as the person's lips are replaced by gentle fingers.
"Do you want me to raise up the heater?"
Your eyes are still closed but you shake your head nonetheless in response. "I just want to stay in bed a bit more."
The person hums but you know he's not just any person. You've been stuck with him for months now and you guess he wouldn't take so lightly that he's listed as some random person in your head.
He hums again before he pulls back leaving your back exposed to the warm air that feels chilly once his form leaves you.
"I got you something," he says.
You don't dare open your eyes but you feel whatever it is he's holding dangle before your face.
"Namjoon I want to sleep. Please?"
You let out a pained yelp when you feel his fingers pinch your backside and that's enough to get you to open your eyes.
"Don't be such a brat." There's no malice in his tone but you can tell he's not fond of your dismissive attitude right now.
You wish you could sleep a little longer as you had a hard time sleeping last night. You've been having a hard time sleeping most nights.
After the day Namjoon found you you were a shivering wreck of a mess. You cried a lot and that lead to sleepless nights and short naps you cried yourself into. Despite time having passed you still have worries. Most of them about Hoseok and how you're waiting for him to find you again.
You honestly don't know if you'd prefer that over the life you're living right now because it's far from perfect. If anything you think you're living on edge because it's only a matter of time, right?
Last night was no different. It took Namjoon warming up some tea for you and holding you close until you felt your resolve begin to crumble - as it has almost every day because now you're back to square one. You're hooked again. Hooked on Namjoon's saliva the way you were on Hoseok's. It's sad really but you don't have time to pity yourself like you would like to. Namjoon doesn't stand for it. He doesn't like it when you feel sorry for yourself. Instead he prefers you place all of your attention on to him because he believes he can distract you enough. With his kiss and with his body.
Namjoon shakes the bag in front of your face to catch your attention and now with your eyes open you see that it's a gift. A pastel pink bag covered in glitter. You don't reach for it at first but all it takes is for you to see the way Namjoon's brow raises in silent question for you to take it.
Slowly you grab for it and once it's in your hands he lets go.
It feels pretty light. There is a slight weight to it and you briefly wonder what it could be. You look over to Namjoon who rests on his side of the bed perching his head on his open palm.
"What is it," you ask.
"Why don't you wash up and put it on. I'll wait for you right here."
You frown at his demand but you know you don't have much say when it comes to him. Whatever it may be - it's Namjoon's way.
You get up from bed and hold the bag close to your naked chest. It's not like he hasn't seen you naked before but you always feel so seen around him. Naked. Figuratively speaking. Raw. You feel raw with Namjoon. It's nothing like with Hoseok who over time you grew used to being naked around each other. You feel like prey around the vampire and you think you always will be.
Hurriedly you make your way to the bathroom that's connected to this room. The floor feels chilly against your feet forcing you to balance on the balls of them as your toes try to curl.
The bathroom looks pretty similar to Hoseok's which you don't know if it was designed to be that way on purpose or not. When you first walked into it you froze. It sent your mind reeling and when you asked Namjoon about it he only hummed like he was intrigued.
"Interesting," was all he said in response.
You don't think this was a coincidence at all.
You remember asking him how he got a hold on this place. Was it built specifically for the brothers? There weren't a lot of rooms so you figured that was probably a no but Namjoon answered you and stated it's a place he had built for himself. He would come here if he needed some space. No servants worked here so it was only him and now you. Your new prison meant you had more privacy. No one to come fetch you when you're alone and no one to intrude on whatever you and Hoseok were doing.
To be honest you thought that you had a chance to easily escape then. Despite this place being far into the forest which meant any help that there could be was far from your reach. Any cars that come here are by Namjoon's orders. Whether it be because they're picking him up or dropping him off. Or even when the person is dropping off some groceries or whatever else it was that Namjoon needed. Outside of that you thought you still had a chance to leave until one day when you were alone did you realize your predicament. The door could only lock with a key. Both outside and in. There was no way for you to unlock the door and escape and only the gods know how distrustful Namjoon is of you so no he doesn't leave you with a spare key.
That was an Earth shattering realization for you and that meant you had to conform to this new life.
"Don't take too long." You're brought of your head when Namjoon calls out to you. "I have to be at my brothers' after this."
Which means he'll be washing up without you after you put on whatever it is he got for you. He has to to avoid any of his brothers smelling you on him. It's how he's gotten away with it for these past few months.
Is it wrong that you kind of want to get caught? You'll be back with Hoseok... Is that any better than being with Namjoon? You don't know. It's a little too scary to think about.
Placing the gift onto the counter you quickly set things up. From brushing your teeth to taking a warm shower that heats you up from the cold weather that wants to seep into the house. You wish you could stay beneath the water for just a bit longer but you don't want to deal with Namjoon's mouth.
The shower comes to a stop so you can dry yourself. Despite not wanting to hear his mouth you take your time to do your skincare.
You're feeling a little apprehensive in opening up this gift of yours. He's given you gifts before and now with it being Christmas day you're not surprised at all with being gifted something yet again.
You look over to the bag before looking back into the mirror as you take a wild guess to what's inside. It feels pretty light so it has to be clothes. There's some weight to it but not much but you can't even begin to think as to why. You know you'll have to look in the bag eventually so once you're done everything you reach for it with shaky hands.
Opening the gift bag up you pull out the decorative tissue paper from inside. What's inside leaves you feeling breathless but unsurprised. Lingerie.
It's all black and he knows your size because he's measured you before. A lace top that's in the shape of a butterfly up front and thin straps that hold up the back. There are more thin straps - two that stretch along your legs with loops at the end in the shape of garters. Reaching into the bag again you find a matching high waisted double strapped thong.
You sigh because Namjoon buying you lingerie is nothing new to you. He does it quite a bit and because of that you know his preferences being that you place the thong over the garter because he wants to take it off without having to undo everything else.
"What's the fun in wearing lingerie if you have to take it off for sex?"
His words from the past are loud in your head but you get it. Occasionally he'd pull the underwear to the side but again, you've learned his preferences.
Before putting the lingerie on you go to toss the bag onto the floor but you feel something shift in there and you're reminded of the weight you felt in it from before. Curiously you peak inside the bag and see something else that has your brow raising in interest.
You reach in and take out a bondage collar. The leather is thick and holds three o shaped rings. One in the middle and two on either side. On the middle one there's a black heart shaped charm that when you turn it around you see the word 'Princess' engraved into it.
You can't help but to huff a laugh. Both in indignation and something else. You were interested in this collar that's for sure but you weren't going to admit that to Namjoon. Otherwise he'd think he was winning you over somehow.
Much like Hoseok you... tolerate your captor but it's because what he can provide for you. Providing his saliva that leaves you susceptible to his advances. You don't think much of it because it's what you want, but there is one issue. Namjoon enjoys toying with you. Meaning he enjoys withholding from you his saliva until you're practically begging him for it. He has a power trip knowing he can make you beg for him to do anything and everything. Him leaving you stupefied until you're begging for more than just his saliva. It's annoying really and on more than one occasion you've fought back. Mouthed off at him. You know you hit a nerve when he flexes his jaw but despite that he manages to reign you in. Eventually...
Looking into the mirror you bring the collar to your throat and strap it on like a belt. It doesn't feel too tight but it's not loose enough to hang. Afterwards you put on the lingerie that slips over your body perfectly.
Heaving a big sigh again as you look at your reflection you roll your eyes before heading out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom.
On the four poster bed Namjoon awaits you. He's typing something out on his phone and when he's done does he grace you with his attention. It starts off small but then his smile widens until his dimples show.
"Come here." He extends a hand out towards you.
You tongue your cheek and try to make yourself look as uninterested as possible because you're both clearly wanting different things. He wants sex and you want your high. They oftentimes come together but it depends on how much you annoy him at first.
You walk over and crawl across the bed to him. His hand slowly retracts the more you crawl towards him until you come to a stop once you're straddling his waist.
Namjoon looks you over with a bite to his bottom lip. His hands come up to rest atop your thighs where he runs them appreciatively before his eyes roam up to watch the way the heart shaped charm jingles against the metal when you scoot up more. His smile just turns absolutely devious and with a finger he loops it through the o shaped ring that holds the charm and tugs you forward.
"Like your present, princess?"
You don't give him an answer but it doesn't stop him from laughing.
"You look good enough to eat."
"Not until I have my hit."
Namjoon's brow raises and his smile falters a little.
Strike one.
"You can have what you want after I've had my fill of you." He goes to grab your waist and flip you over but you fight to keep upright.
Strike two.
"Y/N," he warns.
"Namjoon," you bite back in a mocking tone.
He pinches the bridge of his nose as you see him trying to calm down. You're so close to a strike three and you know it.
You hop off of him and sit by his side. Your arms cross as you huff and now you wait to see what he has to say.
Namjoon sits up and looks over to you with the eyes of a dragon. That's what you liken them to whenever he stares at you like this. He's clearly upset but there's something else in that look of his and it's that your attitude is turning him on.
"Why are you such a brat?"
You give him a deadpan look. "You made me this way."
His brows shoot up and he has to fight to control his laughter. "I made you this way?"
Nodding you look off towards the side. You know you shouldn't but you can't help what you mumble next. "I was never like this with Hoseok."
There's a stillness in the air and before you know it you're pushed onto your back with Namjoon straddling you.
Strike three.
His hand comes around your neck and if it weren't because of the collar you're sure he would choke you.
"What did I say to you about mentioning my brother's name in front of me? Hm?" There's a slight tremble to his voice as anger surges through him.
You wriggle uncomfortably beneath the vampire and bring a hand up to claw at his own. You grunt at the discomfort but it doesn't stop him.
"I'm sorry," you strain out.
Namjoon laughs. "You're never sorry, Y/N. It's the same shit with you all the time."
He brings his face closer to yours and bumps his nose against your own. His lips ghost over your own and you find yourself parting them for what's to come.
His tongue slips out to roam across your awaiting mouth but when he feels your own peek out he pulls back. You whine at the loss of contact and it takes everything in Namjoon not to laugh.
A smirk breaks across his face as he eases up his hold around your neck. "You think you deserve it after saying what you said?"
Your hand that clawed at his one holds him tight and without resistance from his end you move it until he's cupping your breast.
You give a half hearted moan. "Please?"
Namjoon huffs a laugh. "You're so pathetic, but all mine."
His words do hit a nerve that you try to ignore. It'll only sour your mood the more you think on it but there's a lingering pain left behind. It's quickly smoothed over though when his hand cupping your breast begins to make a descent towards your sex where you're not quite wet yet and you know he knows this.
He hums and looks down to admire your lace clad body. His pointer finger follows along the design until it finds your clothed sex where he applies pressure over it in search of your clit.
"How wet can you get for me," he asks.
You know he's not really interested in a response but you say something anyway.
"As wet as you want."
This makes his smile grow wide until his dimples show. You're complying with his advances but you both know it's because you want that high. You'll do anything for it. Even if it means that you'll make a fool out of yourself.
He slips his fingers across the length of your thong until he pulls it to the side to expose you for himself. His index and middle fingers run along your slit where slowly but surely you begin to grow wet with your arousal and it makes him groan.
"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"
You look off towards the side in embarrassment but Namjoon isn't having any of that. With his other hand he grips your chin and directs your attention over to him.
"Don't tell me you're growing shy on me," he laughs. "After how many times I've had a taste of you?"
Your eyes shift around as you try to just revel in the feel of him but the more he talks the more you grow annoyed.
You huff in irritation and it catches Namjoon's attention.
He raises a brow at you all the while his fingers rub against your clit. "Care to share what's on your mind?"
No actually because you know if you tell him to shut up and get the act over with so you can get your high it will only entice him to do otherwise.
Your silence is loud and it makes Namjoon suck his teeth in a mocking way.
"You always have something to say. What is it," he asks with a smirk. "Too afraid of risking punishment?"
There's a small pout on your lips that quickly parts in an o shape when he slips a finger inside. He curls the digit over and over again and it has your legs trembling just the slightest bit.
"You know for someone who talks a lot of shit you're very quiet right now. I may have made you into a brat so go ahead. Act like one."
Your eyes are directed onto him and they squint in suspicion.
You know Namjoon enjoys punishing you and clearly he's trying to get you to talk so he can do so again. The question is if you're going to fall for it or not. The faster you get through this the faster you can get your high but you also can't give up the chance to mouth off at Namjoon. Does that make you a masochist? Maybe but it also brings up the thoughts on whether you enjoy doing these things with Namjoon. You don't like to think about it the same way you didn't like to think about it with Hoseok. You're doing this for yourself you reason so it's alright you guess.
"You want me to act like a brat?" Your eyes close in pleasure when he adds a second finger in. "Then how about you do a better job in fingering me first."
You have to stop yourself from whining when he stops all together. You're about to open your eyes to stare at him but they're quick to stay shut when you wince in pain.
Namjoon spanks your cunt once then twice. "There she is. I was wondering where she went."
You clench your teeth together in mild frustration. "Yeah she's here and what? It doesn't change the fact that you're doing minimal effort to get me off."
You can't help the way your eyes widen when you feel Namjoon grip your face. It's with the hand he wasn't touching you with and he holds on to you hard. He's giving you those dragon eyes again as he observes you. You can't tell if your words were too much and maybe now he's pissed. You normally don't complain about the pleasure he gives you or lack of so this is kind of new to you.
He softly shakes your head side to side as he tongues his cheek. "Anything else you have to say?"
You huff in disgruntlement. "Yeah. I hate you."
A chilling grin overtakes his face. "I know, princess."
Your hand comes up to slap his own off of your face but he barely budges.
"You can be so ill-mannered you know that," he says in an almost concerned tone of voice. "Where did I go wrong with you?" He doesn't give you a chance to answer when he roughly turns you over onto your front. "Did I spoil you too much?" He places a hand on the back of your neck and holds you down. "Or is it just because you like getting me riled up?"
You grunt but arch your back when his other hand glides softly along your spine. He chuckles at this.
"I'm guessing you enjoy this as much as I do otherwise you'd give me a harder time than you already do."
Your eyes squeeze shut when his fingers find their way back to your sex and sidesteps your thong to dip them in. The feeling makes you moan and it makes Namjoon chuckle. The sound of it just makes you want to roll your eyes beneath the lids.
"I do it for the high," you admit.
Without a second to process anything you gasp when Namjoon strikes your right cheek.
"Oh I know you do you little shit," he curses. "But that doesn't take away the fact that you enjoy it whenever I touch you."
He's right but you're not about to admit that to him.
"You wish."
Another smack comes down but this time it's your left cheek. You can't help the way that you gasp again. Even more so when his fingers find themselves in you once again. This time the two digits go fast and hard into you and the feeling has you moaning out loud.
Your hands come up to grip the comforter all the while Namjoon pleasures you. It's insane how good he makes you feel but again you're not about to admit that to him.
He pulls his fingers out of you and you cry out from the loss of them. You try to sit up but his other hand keeps you firmly down by the back of your neck.
"Fuck Namjoon," you whine.
"What was that, princess?"
Gritting your teeth together you writhe as you try and find a way to get up. "I said fuck you."
Two loud smacks for each cheek has your head growing hazy from his sadistic pleasure. It's a euphoric feeling in of itself and it just makes you crave the inevitable high even more.
His fingers find their way inside of you again and it's a torturous dance of pleasing you to spanking you even if you don't mouth off at him. It has your mind reeling with you unsure if you were coming or going. All you understood and felt were a mixture of things. Almost like hot and cold with what Namjoon was doing to you. Hot from the heat he was creating inside of you and cold from the chilling feeling of being physically marked by him. It brought tears to your eyes that remained closed in absolute pleasure.
At some point Namjoon stops all together to let you regain your breath.
All that's heard in the room is your heavy breathing and your heart beat in your ears. The weight of his hand on the back of your neck is still there and it becomes even more apparent when he applies more pressure.
"How are you feeling, princess?"
His question to you sounds genuine and it's moments like these that you have to remind yourself that you're doing it all for the high. His concern for you will not shake you. You won't allow it.
You clear your throat before nodding. "Good."
He finally releases you and pats you on your backside. "Stay there," he demands and you listen because you're too out of it to say or do otherwise.
Your eyes remain closed but you're aware of the way he moves around you. You know what's coming next and your skin pricks in anticipation.
Namjoon presses his front to your back where you feel the lukewarm touch of his naked skin. A hand comes down to take your thong by the straps and slowly ease it down your thighs until they rest above your knees.
"You smell divine," he says beneath his breath.
Your face flushes with heat as he peppers kisses along the back of your neck and shoulders and it's with a soft gasp do you react when you feel the weight of his cock pressed up against your ass.
He cages you in with his strong arms and with a hand he grabs your chin to angle your face towards him. He's smiling at you but the way one would when they have their prey right where they want them and you are very much where Namjoon wants you.
"Bear with me for a little longer and I'll give you what you want, yeah?"
You know he means about his saliva and though the idea of having to wait more time to get it leaves you feeling glum at least you're almost there.
He releases your face from his grip and with one hand he guides his cock towards your entrance.
He's thick and though you've gotten used to having him inside of you it doesn't change the fact that you have to deal with the initial stretch each time. Your eyes shut when he prods at your entrance - running the head up and down your slit. When he's satisfied with what he's done he pushes forward until his head breaches through your hole.
You let out a sound that's a cross between a moan and a whimper of delight. Namjoon grunts when he feels your walls clamp down on him and shushes you gently as a way to get you to relax for him.
"Relax," he says softly. "That's it. Good girl."
You screw your eyes shut the more he goes in and though there's a stretch what you mostly feel is pleasure.
A long drawn out moan comes from deep inside of you when he reaches the hilt and he's snug within you.
Namjoon releases a shaky breath and rests his forehead against your shoulder. He's letting you get used to him before he makes a move and you're appreciative of that.
"Tell me when," he whispers.
You have to fight to keep your walls from fluttering around him but you can't help it. He moans every time you do and he has to grip your arm to ground himself. The feeling of his grip helps ground you too and so with a nod do you let him know to go on.
"Do it."
Namjoon wraps an arm across your front and holds you close to his chest and with that you brace yourself for what's about to come.
His legs are on either side of yours caging you in and from there does he begin to piston his hips. He goes fast and hard jostling you up the bed. If it weren't for his hold on you you're sure you'd bump into the headboard.
You gasp and moan at the way he pounds into. You're left feeling breathless as your body tingles from head to toe. Gripping the sheets beneath you your eyes begin to water as your body is completely ravished by your captor. You don't want to admit it out loud but even then he knows how you're really feeling by the noises you make.
He's making a mess in between your legs. Your arousal gushes out of you with every push and pull of his hips leaving your inner thighs sticky and wet. In any other situation you'd feel embarrassed but he's making you feel so good you can hardly care.
From this angle his cock drags over the roof of your cunt just right. You're practically panting at this point because of it.
With a particularly harsh thrust you cry out loud and it makes him chuckle.
"Feels good, princess?"
You clamp your lips shut and breathe heavily through your nose.
"Oh don't get so quiet now. I know you love this," he laughs. "How about we try another position? Shall we?"
Without giving you time to think he pulls out of you and flips you over onto your back. You gasp at the sudden movement and before you can complain he spreads your legs apart and slots himself within you once again.
He's back to a brutal pace but keeps you close by slipping his arms beneath you and holding your shoulders in his hands. The move keeps you where he wants you - under his control.
Your eyes are shut but it doesn't stop a tear from leaking through your lashes. Even though you won't admit it out loud you are feeling good. More than good. With your back arching off the bed your breasts press up against Namjoon's front making him groan. The sound makes your walls tighten around him causing him to groan even louder.
"Keep doing that princess and I just might come."
You open your eyes and staring back at you are his icy blue ones. His frenzy is active and you know sooner than later he's going to need to feed, but not until you have what you want first.
Your lips part in waiting making Namjoon's brow raise in interest.
"Please," you beg.
He comes to a slow stop - sweat trickling down from his hairline. A dimpled smile takes over his face as he shakes his head. "You're so impatient, baby."
The way he stares at you like he adores you makes your stomach roil a little.
"Please Namjoon. I can't wait any longer." Your words come out with a whine.
He looks over your features in a sudden silence with nothing to express but that doesn't last for long.
He huffs a laugh. "I'm feeling awfully nice today since it's the holidays so yeah. Why not?"
Your pleading eyes widen a little in excitement and it makes him chuckle.
Without a second to waste Namjoon leans over to kiss your lips. You meet him halfway and immediately peek your tongue out to run across the seam of his lips. There's little resistance on his end as he parts his own and slips his tongue out to meet with yours. Then it hits. Pure elation. Pure euphoria. Pure ecstasy. It doesn't matter how many times you get it. It just gets better and better each time.
The kiss is long and deep with passion. Your tongues grind against one another in a sinful dance that's made of pure lust. Maybe if you weren't so far gone you'd be ashamed but that's not the case right now. You're enjoying yourself too much.
Your hands come up to Namjoon's back where your fingers dig into his flesh. He pulls back to hiss in pain but you don't miss the way his cock twitches inside of you.
Everything about how you feel right now is superb. You're on cloud nine. You can't help but to close your eyes and revel in the feeling. Even more so when Namjoon picks up where he left off. He's back to fucking you fast and hard to the point that you're left gasping. The man knows what he's doing. He's hitting all the right places that have you seeing stars.
Your walls start to flutter around him indicating that you're close. It forces Namjoon's hips to stutter.
"Fuck," he curses. "Think you can come for me?" Though he asks he knows that you can.
He switches his position slightly so that he's kneeling and brings a hand down between the two of you. His deft fingers quickly find your clit where he rolls the pearl around until you vocalize the pleasure he's giving you.
Behind closed lids your eyes roll back as you whimper and moan. You're so close and there's little else that needs to be done to make you fall over the edge. Just one more roll of his fingers and you gasp before a long high pitched whine breaks free from deep down in your chest. Your legs begin to shake as your walls clamp down on Namjoon. He chokes on a moan but it doesn't stop him from moving.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he grits out.
You don't see the way he clenches his teeth and how he bares them in unbridled rapture. He pushes forth - on and on until he suddenly stops. His hips jerk forward and he's spilling all he's got deep within you. You feel the way he empties inside of you filling you up to the brim. It's something you can never get used to but it's not a bad feeling. It has you sighing before the next thing to happen happens.
Namjoon's teeth bite into the side of your neck and hard. It makes you wince slightly but the high helps stave off any pain you would have felt otherwise. You feel the pull as he sucks your blood and it's a bit odd. Having your life force being pulled from you is an... interesting feeling. Especially when you're higher than a kite.
He takes from you a bit more before he stops and heals your wound with his tongue with a long and slow swipe. You hum at the feeling and he responds back with a hum of his own.
"You alright," he asks softly.
You hum again with a barely there nod.
When you're like this it's oftentimes best to just let yourself be. You don't enjoy any interruptions as you go through the motions of your high but you know Namjoon is being innocent when it comes to checking up on you.
He leaves a kiss on your forehead before pulling out and it makes you hiss. You're so sensitive down there. So much so that not even the high can mask the feeling.
Your eyes are shut so you don't see what Namjoon is doing but you know what his course of action will be. It's just a moment of silence before you jump a little at the feel of a warm washcloth between your legs. He cleans you up well and urges you to push to get some of his cum out. It's at this point the high starts to slowly leave you but the residual effect prevents you from feeling any sort of embarrassment as Namjoon cleans you up.
Without a word, once he's done, he heads to the bathroom where you know he'll wash up. You didn't forget that he needs to cleanse himself of you so he can go and see his brothers. They are no doubt waiting for him patiently or impatiently. For a brief moment you think of Hoseok. You wonder how he's doing ever since you left. You never bothered to ask Namjoon on how his brother has been because you never forgot that your captor has a penchant for lying. Who is to say he'll tell you the truth or not? Even then do you actually care to know? You don't know.
You curl up onto your side as sleep slowly starts to take over your hazy brain. Your semi-naked state trembles as it seeks warmth but you can't bring yourself to move and cover yourself up. Call it laziness or whatever but you can barely care.
You're in and out of consciousness all the while thoughts, meaningful and meaningless, flit across your mind. Neither here nor there - just simply existing. It's in this state do you register the sounds Namjoon makes when he comes back from showering. You know he can hear the way your breathing pattern begins to ease up so it's without a doubt in your mind that Namjoon knows you're about to fall asleep. Still, he checks up on you before tugging down the sheets so he can lie it over your body. As soon as the covers blanket over you goosebumps line your bare skin from the warmth. In response you give a pleased hum.
"I'll be out for a while." You vaguely register Namjoon's words. "Rest up and I'll see you later."
You give another hum though this time it's in acknowledgement despite how sleepy you're sure you sound.
"Merry Christmas, princess," are the last words you hear to keep you company until your captor comes back to you. Until you're back in his arms and until he'll have you again.
#bts x reader#yandere bts#bts fanfic#bts fic#yandere bts x reader#namjoon x reader#yandere namjoon#yanderebts#btsfanfic#rm#kim namjoon#namjoon#reader#fanfic#reader insert
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Did you noticed Sam's time on IG these last 3 days? Back in Scotland?
Yes, of course I noticed the times he posted on IG. I keep track of them and list them. That's why I'm always amazed when people jump to all kind of conclusions that do not match with the reality but for some kind of reason, mostly confirmation bias, add up to the story they've build in their heads.
I mean, the ones claiming he barely posted on IG this whole week and make assumptions, he must have been ill (as his voice in the video yesterday seem to sound a little sore) to people way to much focussed on dates for which there is hardly a shred of evidence, only smoke and mirrors, now claiming they found the answer on the eternal chicken and egg question. 🙄
Anyway, it doesn't cure fatal diseases nor will it solve any wars. So, nope not gonna entertain that nonsense.
So yes, I did look at the times he posted, last Friday only 3 reposts all at the same time, just before 7pm (UK time). Could indicate flying somewhere. Could be back home, could be elsewhere.... and then yesterday the video announcing his whisky available in Canada.
Surely enough I looked a bit into it, curiosity kills the cat, and I did notice the Scottish flag on the framed poster.
A poster called The Complete Robert Burns and can be ordered online shipped to wherever you want it! #justsaying
So, at itself it doesn't really determine that it must be in Scotland (or his home for that matter) someone in China with Scottish roots or loving Burns work could order it and put it on their wall as well....
I never saw this poster at his house, which also doesn't exclude that option, as it could simply be a corner in the tavern he hasn't shown us yet. It's at least not the usual spot he records his videos in his tavern, but sure he could have chosen that spot for St. Andrews day 🤷♀️
What made me doubt though was the glass he used for his whisky....
I asked myself, wouldn't he use his own SS whisky glass when he was at home? As far as I can remember he always does, and it's only in hotel rooms we see him use other.
Oh and for the people saying he didn't wear his rings, well... I do think he can take them off in a hotel room as well.
Anyway, those were the thoughts I had, there isn't much more to go by. The tiny furniture parts we can see for a sec or less isn't enough to go by. Add to that we don't know when he recorded this video, though I don't think it was weeks ago and do think it is recent if not RT.
So, yes it's back to the times, while yesterday his first reposted story was quite early for UK, today (so far) it's between noon and the beginning of the evening UK times. It does match mostly UK, but I'm not entirely sure, so it's still speculation.
I know you al will draw your own conclusions, and that's okay. But for my sanity, please use your good sense of reality. I'm still looking for one eyeball, as I rolled my eyes so much at my inbox...
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Later edit, after posting above I received this Anon
which shows indeed the same framed poster (in his old house) so he does own one, and makes it more credible the video yesterday was recorded at his tavern.
Thanks Anon 🧡🧡🧡
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