#especially cause I liked to do the blood hue to the skin and that's hard to make it subtle esp since he does make an effort to hide it

[cicadaemon]

Did another redraw but this time with the actual first piece of Homestuck fanart I ever drew.

[clawsdevour]

just a dream

wc: 0.7k content warning: ur childhood friends w/ kageyama, kageyama has a dirty dream, kageyama x reader, not proofread

ャﾞ｡˚࣪˖

Friends since childhood, Kageyama always had this nagging feeling whenever he saw a glimpse of you or heard your name pop up. Something about you pulled at his heart strings. 

Dense and focused on his volleyball career, he didn’t have time to figure out his true feelings for you. He always categorized you as his friend when he knew you were more to him than just a friend. That was until this one night that had him questioning his intentions with your friendship.

Deep asleep and tightly snug in his linen sheets, Kageyama’s tossing and turning around more than usual. He’s dreaming again. However it’s not just any ordinary dream, because you were in it. 

He’s watching himself in his own perspective getting on top of you as your welcoming arms reach out for him. His brows are furrowed and tweaking despite being dead asleep. You’re both in bed as he’s planting his loving kisses on your moonlit face. Starting from your forehead, gently moving lower with each peck. Jaw, lips, neck, stopping at your collarbone while he’s gazing at your breathless reactions with his sharp and piercing eyes that stung with desire.

His face is burning a pink hue while the cold air brushes against the surface of his skin as he continues observing his dream. His large hands ran up your shirt and under your bra, pulling them up to expose your little rosy nubs for his viewing pleasure.

Leaning down towards your body, he’s stroking your nipples with a foreign sensation due to his warm tongue causing you to whimper in delight. The noises and sounds that escaped your mouth created an uncomfortable bulge to appear in his pajama pants under the thick sheets. He’s able to feel the hardness grow between his legs as if watching an erotic film starring you in it.

His other hand pressed down at your crotch, the heat simmering between you two while you’re rubbing your thighs together. Unlatching his tongue from your breast, he’s using both hands to slide down your pants. Revealing your lacy panties to him as he felt the blood in his veins rush to his face at your choice in clothing.

Once more, his digits felt you against the thin piece of fabric. Circling your clit slowly while watching you subtly squirm before pulling your panties down by the sides. Your bare cunt hissed feeling the cool air hit your body, back arching slightly off the mattress. His eyes fluttered with surprise seeing how wet you became with his touch.

He’s unable to make out the words that you mouthed at him, as if his dream was inaudible. But Kageyama’s body knew what you told him to do. And that was to insert his erection into your entrance that’s been laced with your glossy essence. 

Taking out his bulge from his restraining pants, he’s stroking it a few times in between grunts and groans. Lining his tip against your warm extract before that one final push in. But right as he enters in about an inch, Kageyama arises from his deep sleep.

Kageyama’s dry eyes pried open from shock. He’s gasping out pants in a cold sweat, trying to understand what he just dreamt about. Me and my childhood friend? Why did I just have a dream like that… especially one as strange as this? His thoughts circulated through his currently groggy mind while sitting up in bed, the blanket half off to air out the heat that radiated off his toned body. 

His legs shuffle in the sheets as he’s letting gravity pull him back down towards his fluffy pillow, sinking into the softness his head laid upon. However, feeling a bit of a cold moisture resting on his crotch. His beady half lidded eyes peer up from his pillow, pulling up his waistband with his fingers to see what it’s all about. 

To his surprise, his tip produced precum that seeped out and onto him, creating a slightly wet spot on his briefs. He took one last sigh, knowing this interrupted his sleep schedule for practice the next day. Letting his heavy and drowsy eyelids take over, drifting back into sleep. Thinking that he wouldn’t really have to deal with this human bodily function. The dream didn’t come back even though he had a little hope that it would.

Little did Kageyama know, the dream was a reflection of his true feelings.

masterlist here

[liminalpebble]

The Refugee: Chapter 31

Masterlist link

Heavy...everything felt heavy. 

She dreamed again of her body, cold and rigid as a marble slab, laying at the bottom of an inky black ocean, buried in her grave under miles of water. The liquid flooded her mouth, her lungs; saturated and stained her, inside and out. Was it water? No, it was salty like tears, metallic like copper. Blood she realized, I'm drowning in his blood. She saw it again as the marine pressure crushed upon her, the white skin and the inky blood. But it wasn't real, she reminded herself, ...just an illusion. He's alive...but he killed me and this is my hell... what about Magnus?

“Magnus!” she sat up and shouted, causing several of the medics to jump away from the stasis bed and its glowing recuperative force field. Their patient, immobile and unconscious for three months had startled them badly. Sitting up abruptly from her nightmare had smacked Lea with a pervasive blunt pain, something like the cramp of a stiff neck but a thousand times worse, distributed through her entire body, especially in her back. The medics were yelling at her to lay back down, but she didn't need to be told. She wasn't able to do anything else. Several pairs of hands glowing with magic were running over her body. Blue medical uniforms blurred around the room as they roused into action. In her silent still eye of the storm, she found herself anticipating Magnus' appearance in the fog of robin's egg hue. Lea longed for Magnus' hands to heal her with the others, but he wasn't there to patch her up this time. Searing panic cut into her again as her addled brain remembered.

She croaked out from a dry throat, “Magnus...where's Magnus? Please!”

Most of the medics looked at each other awkwardly and sadly as they did their work, clearly knowing something they weren't permitted to tell her, and every silent look sliced into her heart with worry. Mercifully, an older medic with rosy cheeks and gray hair came beside her and held her hand as she gave her sips of water. “My dear, His Highness has been told you're awake and he's on his way to speak with you. He'll give you all the information you need. Just a little patience, dearie, alright?”

She didn't want to accept that but she was too weak to do anything else. As the healers worked over her, the cripplingly stiff ache subsided. They helped her bathe and change into a fresh patient's gown. Tiny bits of food were presented to her and she was encourage eat, but she couldn't bring herself to. They were at least permitted to tell her how long she had been in recuperative sleep as they helped her.

“Three months,” she whispered to herself over and over, hoping that at some magic number of repetitions it would make sense to her through this fog in her mind. She was able to stand again with only a moderate amount of pain, and as she did, she noticed the medics all quietly shuffling out. Lea tried to thank them but they only looked at her with a sad kind of pity, which confused her. Then it all made sense as she heard murmurs of “Sire” and “Highness” from the exiting physicians. They were pitying her because they anticipated a terrible punishment was in store. Lea gulped hard, knowing that it was.

The emperor entered the now deserted room with a deceptively easy smile and stride; cocky, she thought, not happy. He was dressed in imposing royal garb. He towered, somehow looking taller than before. If he was looking for a spat or spar as they were used to, he wouldn't get it today. She was too desperate and didn't care about her pride. “Please! Please tell me he's alive.”

Loki sighed. He wanted to drag it out more but he was unexpectedly shocked to see her like this, and had pity. “Yes, he's alive and well.”

“Then where...”

“Silence!,” he said in a voice so commanding it made her shiver with fear. “and I will tell you everything.”

She nodded. He circled around her, gripping his hands on her shoulders, which trembled with fear and cold. His mouth hovered closely to the shell of her ear. “Magnus has been exiled to Midgard, to live forever among the humans. Would you like to see him, darling, I can show you?”

She nodded, feeling a lump in her throat. Loki drew a circle in the air and a glowing viewing portal opened before them. She saw him, sitting on a bench in what seemed to be a garden or park, looking out over the sea. He wore strange loose blue clothes, and a small badge with his name on it. Magnus Roed and underneath Medical Assistant. He had a paper bag next to him and seemed to be waiting for something. Loki took on the tone of a lecturing professor as he circled around to face her, and continued his explanation in an easy, unbothered, tone. “Now, I'm sure I don't need to remind you, Lenora, knowledgeable as you are, that time moves differently between realms.” He said those last five worlds staring directly at her, emphasizing each one with his clear deep voice.

“No...” she gasped under her breath and her face fell in despair, just as he thought it would.

He smiled cruelly. “Oh yes. I'm afraid so. Well, of course there are magical protections to counteract this,” he said with a nonchalant gesture, “however, our dear Magnus was given no such protections.”

She gasped out quietly, breath fighting around the lump in her throat. “How long has it been for him, Loki?”

“He's settled in nicely though. You know him...always making the best of a bad situation.”

“HOW LONG, LOKI!” She screamed at him. He jumped. He'd never heard her yell like this. Her desperation excited and saddened him all at once.

“Six years,” he said, finally.

“Six..years...” she whispered back, fighting to believe it, walking closer to the viewing portal, as if in a trance.

He gestured to the screen. “But don't worry, Lenora. He's made quite a nice life for himself. As you can see he's come back to his passion for healing. The good doctor is learning Midgardian medicine now. Using that oh-so-good heart of his to help others. Of course, he's had a great deal of help from another small group of Asgardian expatriates who live on Earth. Oh look, here comes one such friend now.”

A tall blonde woman in the same strange blue clothes and name tag, came to join Magnus. His face lit up as he saw her, giving her an exuberant hug and kiss. They sat together on the bench then. He opened the little paper bag and passed her a sandwich and a hot cup of tea, before taking his own. Lea felt something inside of her wither and die as comprehension dawned on her.

“That's Astrid,” said Loki, “lovely, isn't she? A fellow Asgardian healer, settled on earth. She was so compassionate with him going through his difficult transition. Holding his hand for years as he cried over you, over his exile, over everything he's lost. She was quite taken with his hopeful and kind nature. Such a good, sweet, man...so easy to fall in love with.” He turned to Lea now, saying lightly, conversationally, “Oh you know, of course. I'm sure you can relate. Anyway, that beautiful friendship became something more...much more. As you can see they're quite happy together.”

Lea noticed the held hands, the rings on their fingers, and beneath Astrid's other graceful hand she stroked the bump forming in her stomach. She smiled to him with adoration, beaming with contentment in her rosy cheeks. Lenora felt her heart shatter, not only breaking, but being ground into a sandy powder and blown away in a great gust of wind until she felt an all-consuming nothingness where it had once been.

She croaked out, “You...did this...”

Loki, peaked his eyebrows in mock surprise, “I did this? No, little dancer. He did this..willingly. And you did this. You challenged me after all.”

“You knew I had to...you forced my hand.”

“Did I? You ran away. I gave you the option to come home instead of challenging me. I didn't tell Magnus to find love and happy life.”

Lea said, a little more confidently, “I did. We agreed. I begged him to find a happy life...to let me go if something like this happened. I'm glad for him. I'm proud of him for being strong enough to fulfill his promise.”

Her grace about this seemed to surprise Loki, but he only said, “You always have been so practical...so prepared for eventualities. I commend you as a strategist, Lady Lenora. Some day you might even rival me.”

He could see, to his delight, that she bristled at that, but she ignored the bait. “What did you tell him about me?”

“I told him you were dead.”

She scoffed, “he knows better than to believe you.”

“True, but he could never be sure, of course, and I can be awfully convincing. Six years is far too long to hold out hope, don't you think? Even for our Magnus. You're welcome to send word to him yourself. Let him know you're alive. I won't stop you.”

She bowed her heavy head, in immense silent suffering and anger. Loki knew, dammit! He had controlled it all, giving the mere illusion of choice to the pawns he moved around. Trying to redirect his actions would have been no more effective than trying to steer the course of an avalanche.

“Well?” he asked.

She glared at him, furious at the impossibly cruel situation he had set before her. “No. Let me stay dead to him. I refuse to cause anymore pain in his life than I already have. Let me stay dead, and let him stay happy.”

That's exactly what I said to myself, sweet Lenora, he thought with secret sincerity and compassion for her, because he had made the same impossible choice.

Externally, however, the king only clapped mockingly. “Oh how relentlessly noble you are, Lea! What a heroine!”

It hit her like a slap across the face, and she closed her eyes, hung her head, feeling herself become very far away. The woman standing there in the gray patient's gown, the wet hair, the sunken eyes, and freezing skin was like an image on the view screen, and she watched herself, empty and broken from a numb distance.

Loki came up behind her again, this time wrapping his arms around her, lightly kissing her cheek. She was too far away, too absent, to fight his touch away. It didn't matter. Nothing did now. He could do whatever he wanted to her and she wouldn't care. He whispered into her ear. “And now, darling, I am all you have.”

She asked one last question. She wasn't even sure why, since it hardly mattered now, “Did you intend to kill me?”

He paused a moment. “No, darling. I knew exactly where to cut.”

He called the guards in with a shuffling of armor. It was silly, she thought, to have so many burly men guarding her. Where exactly did they think she could go? She didn't feel the shackles meet her skin, nor the movement of her feet towards the dungeon, nor the swish of the force field walls locking her in and the sizzle of them becoming dark and opaque. Lenora simply sat on the floor, in the dark of her cell and the weight of her shackles; empty, heavy, drowning in the darkness.

(Thanks for reading, my loves!) @unlucky-number-13 @gigglingtigger @goblingirlsarah @lokisgoodgirl @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @peaches1958

[drinksumtea-blog]

A Dreadful Week

By: Aravellah Cervantes

          Weak body. Redness of the skin. Vomit. Rashes. One of the many fever-related symptoms I never thought I'd encounter during high school. How would you imagine if you found out you only had a count of 44 platelets left in your body, but you survived? Every time the word 'dengue' appears, it takes me back to the past, still vivid in my mind. Dengue, the fever that made me dread whenever I stopped by the hospital and that I desired would never return.

          I recalled that it was July, and the weather was sunny with a mix of chilly air caused by recent rain. A typical day at school except for the afternoon, when a headache suddenly struck me. My mother initially thought it was just an ordinary headache that could be treated with rest and medication. After one day of observation, the headache remained constant, making me significantly weaker and tired, and my temperature remained at 38 °C, and Mom brought me to the hospital. The doctor initially suspected dengue because most patients handled at that time were suffering from the virus. Even the ward where I was confined had all dengue virus patients, with two teenagers in the intensive-care unit (ICU).

          According to the World Health Organization (WHO), Dengue is a viral infection transmitted to humans through the bite of infected mosquitoes. The primary vectors that transmit the disease are Aedes aegypti mosquitoes and, to a lesser extent, Ae. albopictus. Dengue commonly appears in tropical and subtropical climates, mostly in urban and semi-urban areas. Sometimes it is hard to believe how a tiny insect like a mosquito leeching off human blood could have a tremendous effect on the body.

          According to data from the governor's office, there were 9,392 annual dengue cases in the province of Iloilo in 2016. It was designated as the third year in the three-year cycle of the dengue upsurge. The doctor informed my mother that I only have 44 platelets in my body, which means that I'll be prone to bleeding, which could be fatal. Afterward, he advised me to refrain from brushing my teeth and to avoid foods with hues (such as brown and red) that may be mistaken for blood when I have my discharge. I'm still relieved that I did not have a blood transfusion, as this is something I never wanted to undergo.

          Several symptoms appeared during my stay, including headaches, rashes, muscle pain, and lethargy. To monitor me, the nurses had to draw blood every six hours. While fighting dengue, I also had a menstrual period and a potassium deficiency, which was undesirable. I've lost my appetite; the soft meal my mother buys for me, and even the hospital ration, aren't helping because I vomit between every bite. I depended primarily on the dextrose drip. My mother was very concerned about me; all I could do was lie in bed, hoping and praying that I would recover quickly. It was my first time experiencing that phenomenon, and maybe the fear and anxiety of thinking that I may be on the verge of life added to my burden. It was pretty frightening because, to this day, there is no cure, only prevention, and alternatives. The doctor advised that because a patient suffering from dengue fever would lose appetite and vomit frequently, especially when ingesting, it is best to drink plenty of fluids to prevent dehydration.

          I was stressed out every day during my stay, a depressing situation. I can see why some people despise staying much longer. In my case, I had to spend time in the hospital for around ten days due to some circumstances, but I surmounted them all. My body also underwent significant changes. When I finally returned home, it took me at least three days to regain my strength, particularly in my legs, which had been unable to walk due to muscle pain and discomfort impacted by dengue. According to WHO, "Recovery from infection is believed to provide lifelong immunity against that serotype. However, cross-immunity to the other serotypes after recovery is only partial and temporary. Subsequent infections (secondary infection) by other serotypes increase the risk of developing severe dengue" (Dengue and Severe Dengue, 2022). Although I had acquired antibodies from dengue, I am still prone to three more dengue viruses. The more times the virus appears in a person's body, the more dangerous its effect is on the body. Indeed, it was a tough battle.

          Dengue fever is still a significant health concern and a threat to humanity. It is globally widespread and appears as a disease outbreak in almost all tropical regions at reasonable times and locations. Getting dengue fever wasn't what I had hoped for during my first two months of high school, but it changed my life. It made me more aware of my surroundings and made me take extra care of my body because I never know what lies ahead. Dengue fever may be different for some people than it was for me, but it is a fever that I would avoid for the entirety of my life. It took a toll on my physical, emotional, and mental health. It gave me a new perspective and made me realize that this virus is no small matter, especially since there remains no cure.

______________________________________________________________

REFERENCES:

Balita Halin Sa Kapitolyo. (2022, March 3). Gov. Arthur Defensor Jr. issued Executive Order No. 190 placing the entire province of Iloilo under Alert Level 5 Kontra Dengue. https://www.facebook.com/100064830275341/posts/pfbid023CsR84X9K9QXxLXfQrZKXZd3rTb6AY4YNjnvvms7CRTgvXVJYiqPhENwZcSWMeQMl/?mibextid=cr9u03

Dengue and severe dengue. (2022, February 14). https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/dengue-and-severe-dengue

[distant--shadow]

After what feels to Imogen like a short amount of time, she has Laudna's head resting on her chest, Imogen with one arm wrapped around her back inner arm moulding spine and hand at her hip, the other resting over Laudna's on top of her own rising and falling stomach, Laudna's infrequent breath causing comfortable gooseflesh over her tits, always a welcome reprieve from the humidity always

(always she said Imogen could always ask for her thoughts, and yet)

Laudna’s infrequent breath creates condensation on the surface of the bloodwell vial resting flat on Imogen’s chest, and Imogen lifts her hand away from Laudna's to draw a line through it, frosted glass turning deep red again, the touch cool and wet on her fingertip, displaced into a droplet that falls onto her sternum.

two spirits one vessel

“Do you like wearing our blood around your neck?”

Does the vial like to be a vessel? How does it feel about being made to serve? Housing two lives? I should animate and ask it.

Would it tell Laudna what she wants to hear? Should Imogen ask what it has said?

to be full of Imogen-

“I – it kept you with me – an’ it’s useful, thanks.”

Useful. Good.

It’s a lot to discuss. It’s hard to phrase…Imogen feels wary of speaking of being useful, but if it is the language Laudna comprehends…

“You- your blood turned to dust – when you - when ya passed. You can see-”

Imogen’s stomach still has bile to give for that memory. She swallows it down before holding the vial dangling from its leather string, turning it upside down so that the congealed collection of black ash re-distributes into the bright liquid crimson and falls like sands in a lethargic hourglass

slowed time

-snowglobe-

what’s a snowglobe?

-Whitestone-

It could bloom again – it has - she can-

Laudna’s canines show again, an almost snarl, her eyes slightly crossed on the narrow point of focus, head raised from Imogen's chest.

“Perhaps it is for the best, I would be rather worried if the hue of your magic darkened. Mortified, even.” Her lips pull taut plush purple on the offered pun.

Laudna covers Imogen's hand holding the lid of the blood vial with her own, turns it back the intended way up, ashes settling again, as she guides their hands over Imogen's breast, blown glass drop point of the vial a planchette drawing the base of her areola in a crescent, following the contour of  underside of her nipple

The glass is cold, stimulating, pathetically rousing to her, she is weak for her, levelled a block of a city for her, Imogen's lashes fluttering and throat humming-

It’s usually warm, familiar, indistinguishable from all’a the heat from Imogen's chest, the glass conduct to instigating the external blood to meet her internal body temperature.

Imogen's hips rise from the bed, shamelessly searching empty air for contact

What if Imogen’s magic were to influence mine-

Just ask.

Just ask. Ask before you swallow the sword.

She knows Orym is worthy of asking, that he should have. She should think, know of herself as such. Of being worthy, worth asking, wanting.

She’d offered her soul, at least part of it.

Was that not enough?

Laudna hovers over Imogen's chest, lips parted and eyes on Imogen's mouth, and as Imogen tilts her head forward to meet Laudna's Laudna brings the vial and Imogen's hand to her lips

She sucks on the base of the vial, runs her tongue over its tip, alternates, repeats, carries on over knuckles and skin and scar dog-licking wounds and fuck it should be weird maybe even kinda funny and Laudna is both of those things that’s true (and so is Imogen) but she’s lapping at a vial of her blood our blood and yeah it only seems fair if she wants to drink it and it ain’t weird ‘caus it was hers first and her scars have always been sensitive anyhow especially to Laudna and her temperature and her doting and her sharp points and Imogen’s skin is still stained black from being inside of her and it ain’t funny ‘caus it’s Laudna’s grin head tilted lips pursed on blood-swell high cheekbones eyes held like when she’s between her legs and-

“Remember to breathe, darling.”

“Remember to breathe, darling.”

Don’t make me fret - if I bite this glass will shatter and our blood will be ash in my mouth, and what use is that?

“After that, will you kiss me?” its barely a murmur passing whatever it is that has lodged itself in her throat, burnt umber ashes, saliva clotted paste Laudna would probably make use of as a ceramic glaze or a paint if Imogen- when Imogen dies first and Laudna is that time the one left with ashes

‘Can I kiss you?’ ‘Can I kiss you?’ ‘Can I kiss you?’ ‘Can I -

She smiles. Toothy and wide.

“Of course.”

Imogen makes a show of filling her lungs, breath deep and ribcage expanding, comically raising Laudna in her field of vision and they both start laughing and the oxygen occupying her chest is intoxicating love drunk room spinning giddy Laudna giddily kisses her throat, her jaw, her chin, the corner of her mouth before swallowing Imogen's laugh her love toxic intoxication into her own, down her windpipe and into her lungs

[i-rickrolled-my-ankle-help]

Hunger Games: Prims Version

This is a wip I’m almost certainly not going to finish but if tumblr people like it I might write up to the reaping and the reunion (aka I’m holding it hostage until someone tells me they want to see it)

When I wake up Katniss is already long gone, judging by the sun she and Gale are over the fence and deep into the woods by now. I hope she remembered to take the list of plants I need with her. I've been planning tonight’s dinner for almost a week now. It’s hard to put together a nice meal here but I managed to find some jam and sourdough bread. Reaping day isn’t exactly a thing to be celebrated but not having your name pulled from the dome certainly is. It's really the only time outside our birthdays where we can justify splurging a little and I want a thick slice of bread heavy with goat cheese filled with herbs. It’s been a long time since we’ve had more than salt and one or two hearty things I’ve managed to coax into growing in the backyard. Carefully, so as not to wake my mother or Buttercup I bend over and see him still as asleep now as he was when my eyes opened ten minutes ago.

I hate waking up Buttercup. He's a growing boy and he needs as much rest as he can get, but I have things to do before the reaping and there are plenty of other places for him to nap. Or so I tell myself as I gently flex my legs until he finally gets the hint and moves along. I give his head a little scratch and kiss my mother on the forehead before finally getting out of bed. 8 is a late start for us, usually I wake with Katniss and we talk while she gets ready to hunt. I suppose she let me sleep in as I let our mother sleep in.

I feel a little bad about sneaking into our mothers bed the night before one of our names might be pulled from the dome of doom, as some of the older children at school call it. Theoretically I should want to be as close to my sister as possible in case we’re separated but after the third nightmare my need to sleep won. I quickly put on some raggedy but clean old dress and carefully brush out my hair. It looks more gray than blonde with all the coal dust that coats it and I’m glad I’ll be having a bath before the reaping.

I finish the outfit off with a pink ribbon Katniss got me for my birthday last year. It has a grayish hue after living in the cloud of coal that is the seam it’s entire existence but so do the rest of us. I use it to tie my hair up and put it in a bow and begin to sing to myself as I go to milk Lady. Quietly at first but louder the further I get from our bedroom.

“Some people say a man is made out-a mud

12 mans made out of muscle and blood

Muscle and blood and skin and bones

A mind that’s weak and a back that’s strong”

This is one of the few songs I can actually remember dad teaching me. I was maybe 4 but I can still remember his voice if I strain, but especially when I sing this song. For some reason I can only picture it in his voice.

“You move 16 tons, and what do you get?

Another day older and a bit less full

Brother don’t you call me cause I can’t go

I lost my soul digging deeper for coal.”

Gale likes this song. So does Katniss. Apparently it was written before Panem, but the lyrics have changed so much over time that no one knows what they were originally.

“I was born one morning when the sun didn’t shine

They gave me a pick and I walked to in mine

Gave him 16 tons of number 9 coal

All the boss man told me was “go back for more””

It doesn’t fit my voice well. My voice is high and light like the mockingjays while the song is low and heavy like Gales or my fathers. I like it though, I don’t know why. Maybe I like it just because Katniss does, the same way she likes the song Clementine because I do.

“You move 16 tons, and what do you get?

Another day older and a bit less full

Brother don’t you call me cause I can’t go

I lost my soul digging deeper for coal.”

Lady always appreciates a nice song in the morning. I think it makes her milk easier but Katniss says it’s a silly superstition. She chews happily on the grass as I sing to her. Sometimes I wish I was a goat like her or a cat like Buttercup. Not an unwanted stray, I like living under a roof just fine thank you very much, but maybe a spot similar to the one Buttercup holds in my heart. I scratch lady’s chin, maybe if this good behavior keeps up I’ll be able to braid her beard again. That always gets a laugh out of Katniss.

[sableseb]

Dirty Disco

Harry Styles x f!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: smut, rough & quick, choking, grinding, slight name calling, use of drugs, slight peer pressure

tags: @meetmeatyourworst​ @greeneyedblondie44​

a/n: This is a request that wanted a story based off the photo below! To the person who wanted this, I hope you love it as much as I loved writing it.x

The club is in full swing. Hot, sweaty bodies pressed against one another, music vibrating the dance floor, and couples occupying each darkened corner. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than right here. You craved a night out. And what better place to go than one of the most elite nightclubs in New York? 

You squeeze your way into the mass of people to join in on the sleazy dance floor behavior. You let the music take over your movements. Hips winding against a man’s, chest pressed against a woman’s and completely lost in the feeling of the erotic nature of being between two people in such a compromising way.

Suddenly, you couldn’t feel anyone against you. Until, two hands pull you in close from behind to rub himself to the beat against you. You had it in mind to turn around and tell this asshole he couldn’t just touch you as he pleased and maybe even smack him for good measure. But, all those thoughts left as soon as they entered when you meet a pair of eyes that are the prettiest shade of green you’ve seen, complemented by the mop of brown hair.

You find yourself wanting to be smacked by him. He chuckles at the way your mouth is slightly agape, obviously expecting to see an ugly weirdo with grimy hands. Instead, you got the most handsome weirdo with grimy hands. And that made all the difference. You get your mind straight and turn back around letting him guide you against him.

You grind against one another to the music shaking the walls. The smooth material of his pants feels good against your heated skin. He’s taking his time with you, moving your ass against his hard on he got when he first laid his eyes on you in that mini skirt and shirt that’s barely keeping your chest concealed. 

Grasping the hem of your skirt, you lift it up a bit and bend over to give him a glance of your perfectly plump ass straining against the black mesh. You gasp as his hands move from your hips to palm the firm flesh. You wanted to feel those rings everywhere. The cool metal excites you even more.

After letting him have his fun for a moment, you straighten back up to lace your fingers through his thick hair and pull him against your neck, backside still moving along with his front. You feel the hot puffs of air he’s emitting and it sends shivers down your spine, straight to your aching heat. His hands wander up your torso to rub and grab at your chest causing you to arch forward in his grasp.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” 

His voice catches you off guard for a moment. His accent is thick, annunciations as slow as honey dripping from the comb. 

“Looking for an escape is all.” you reply next to his mouth, trying to catch a taste of him.

He spins you forward and leans in close to your ear, lips grazing the shell of yours as he says, “I can help with that if you're interested.”

If he didn’t catch your attention before, he surely has it now. He’s tall and lean, clad in a tight vest that showcases his firm chest with a cross resting upon it. Tattoos splattered all along his tan skin. This man is trouble. Lucky for you, trouble is exactly what you’re looking for.

“How can you help?” you question with a glint in your eyes.

He smirks and takes your hand to lead you away from the dance floor. The music is but a low vibration in the back room you find yourself in with a man who’s name you don’t know. You don’t want to know it, you’re not here for formalities and neither is he.

It’s dark with hues of red from the low lighting. The leather couch looks expensive...and so does the glass table with bags of illegal substances littered across it. Now you’re nervous. You’ve never done any sort of drug. But, the man pulling you along and whispering lowly in your ear, “It’ll be fun. I got you.” is very persuasive. Especially, when he looks so appealing. 

He places you next to him on the couch, the leather sticking uncomfortably to your heated thighs. You watch as those long fingers reach for a bag with little white squares in them. He digs one out and places it upon his tongue, he leans in to you, waiting for you to get the hint and take the tab from his mouth.

You’re hesitant, but that mouth is calling to you. You tangle your tongue with his, slowly kissing him in the process. He grabs the back of your head, deepening the kiss. His taste is addicting. Alcohol mixed with something sweet, you almost forgot you took the acid...almost. You pull away with worry etched in your features.

He takes notice and chuckles. “Such a good girl for me, you know that?” He takes another tab for himself and downs it. It’s always exciting to share this experience with another. It’s really exciting though, when his companion is a figure from a wet dream.

You can feel your body loosen and mind clear, your present and not all there at the same time. The man to your left closes in on you. His smell hits you harder than before, dark and musky with a hint of something floral. You pull him against you, leaning back so he can cage your body with his.

He looks at you thoroughly this time. The way your eyes have already dilated, the way your chest is begging to be released from that ridiculously tight shirt, and especially the way you lick your lips, almost like you’re tempting him to ruin you. And you were doing just that, tempting.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, genuinely curious. He would hate to have to rush you to the hospital.

You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him flush against you. He lets out a groan from the abrupt contact of your center against his front. Pulling his head down to meet yours, you whisper against his lips, “I’d feel better if you were inside me.”

He’s caught off guard for a moment, not expecting you to be that brazen. Drugs can work wonders on a person’s mind. Who is he to deny your request? He couldn’t even if he tried, not when you have him pressed so firmly against you and you start rocking against him.

The moan he lets past his lips is a sound that makes you wetter. The need for this stranger is so great that you don’t even care about the foreplay. You need him inside you now. He picks up on your urgency and makes quick work of his tailored pants. He releases himself from the confines of his underwear as you kick yours off your heeled feet.

He pushes the tight fabric of your skirt up past your hips. His eyes feast on how wet you are for him. Your arousal is already pooling against the leather of the couch. 

“Please.” you beg. “Just fuck me.” 

He pushes his dick against you, using your wetness to cover his shaft for an easy in. The sensation of him finally pushing in has you seeing colors. You aren’t sure if it’s the drugs or how good he fills you up. But whatever it is, you want more.

Seeing you whimper and writhe underneath him unlocks the primal urge to have you brain dead for his cock. He picks up his pace, your chest bouncing with each snap of his hips. He can’t stand not seeing your bare flesh moving freely, so he rips your shirt down the middle. 

You gasp at his roughness. Before you could let out a whiny, “Hey,” he latches onto your breast. Licking and biting while his hand preoccupies the other. Grabbing and pinching till you didn’t know what to focus on, him pounding into you with no abandon or the way his wet, hot mouth and calloused hands are working wonders on your sensitive nipples.

“So responsive.” he groans between the valley of your breasts. “What? Nobody ever fuck you this good?”

The blood rushes to your face. His words egging on your inevitable climax. You’re speechless as he keeps hitting that spot inside you that has your abdomen flexing and toes curling. The only sounds coming from you are the high pitched moans he’s pulling from you.

He doesn’t like how loud you’ve gotten. His hand flies up to your throat. The rings feel nice against your heated pulse. Until he starts squeezing. Your eyes go wide and your sounds seize, but your cunt latches down on him harder than before.

“My pretty girl likes being choked? That’s right. Take it you fucking slut.” he says through clenched teeth. 

And take it you do. His pelvis keeps kissing your bundle of nerves as you buck up towards him. His other hand that’s not restricting your breathing finds your clit, giving you even more pleasure than before. The warm feeling creeping up your neck, the way your ears ring, you know you’re cumming as your legs tremble around the man between them.

He let’s go of your throat in time for you to let a scream of pleasure escape. Your orgasm triggers his own and he’s fucking you deep into the couch to get as close as possible to you. He has to prop himself up on his hands so he doesn’t crush you as his high washes over him.

You both lay in silence for a few moments, just enjoying the euphoria from the sex and drugs. He pulls out of you and helps you into your panties. As you stand, you can feel his spent pool in the fabric. Making you horny all over again. 

“Round two at my place?” the words leave your mouth before you even process them. You just want this man in every position possible. A grin makes its way upon his features. He places his hand in yours to help you through the club and out into the cool night air.

[theatomichero]

talking to matthias really put things in perspective to the blond. he was pleased they had a chance to chat and discuss, even when his roommate was still a bit reserved. they don’t necessarily do a lot of activities together, despite sleeping in such close proximities from each other. charlie understood the reluctance to share one’s past, especially if they came from unpleasant circumstances. he could only imagine what matthias has gone through to obtain such a hard exterior. amusingly enough, the cold personality fits with his powers. comprehending social cues well enough from father’s lessons and some pr tips, he decided to drop the questions. the russian man clearly wasn’t keen on elaborating any further about the visions he saw, or the resurfacing memories that caused him great distress. “i’m here for you, always. you have a friend in me anytime you’re in need,” charlie assured him, unable to refrain from quoting a cheesy movie quote he adored as a child.

abstaining from sharing his own visions was probably a good idea. he trusted matthias as an ally and greatly valued their friendship. however, he didn’t want to burden his roommate with confusing imagery and terrifying sights only seen on apocalyptic media depictions. charlie swallowed hard, letting a moment of silence pass between them. he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. his breath hitched as he hesitated to tell matthias anything. entire cities decimated, charred human remains on ashen wastelands, the entire world practically burned to a crisp. a shaken look befell charlie’s face. his cheeks became paler than usual, chest producing a bright orange glow for a split second before he forced himself to laugh. “brain fart. sorry, i’m still out of it a little,” he explained, feigning a collected composure as his eyes drift to the side. no, he couldn’t possibly create distrust to himself by disclosing any of that to anyone. charlie was determined to be part of the ten, one way or another. smile in front of the cameras and carry on, just like all heroes do. which was exactly what he did right then and there in front of matthias.

the icy superhuman had every right to dislike warmth. his powers were the exact opposite. he made temperatures drop. meanwhile, charlie made them rise. it was truly an ironic coincidence they got forced to share a room together. “i’d never melt you. you’re far too pretty to look at,” he remarked, his overtly flirtatious persona taking over again. a chuckle escaped him as he cast his gaze over matthias, emerald hues taking in every inch of the russian man’s exposed skin. “there’s bound to be a summer photoshoot with all of us trying on skimpy swimwear in an attempt to get more sponsorships.” he shrugged, familiar with the yearly schedule of the current ten after spending a good couple of years in paragon towers. “the location would probably be somewhere in fiji. lots of sun, i hope you’re prepared.” best to issue a warning to matthias now than see him suffering due to a last-minute modelling gig he wasn’t aware of.

a relieved sigh left his lips when matthias touched him again. those icy fingertips felt incredible on his chest. already, whisps of steam began to emerge from the physical contact. charlie hummed in delight at the cold sensation, never having felt anything like this before. not even his ski trips with father in the german alps could compare to the chilly pleasure. speaking of which, charlie was enjoying himself a little too much and visibly so. blood flowed south and resulted in a sizable erection peeking out of his grey jockstrap. “a-ah…” he trailed in a soft moan, cheeks flushed. given his prior profession, being ashamed of one’s natural body responses was completely unheard of. his green eyes locked with the russian man’s gaze. “supernova would let absolute zero top him at any time.” the blond leaned closer, his hand carefully returning to matthias’ thigh again. “the question is, does he want to?”

A part of him understood that Charlie’s intentions were good. He too had felt what that psychic bastard had done to them. How he easily invaded their minds and left their thoughts a complete mess – forcing them to relive their worst moments in life. He understood that to Charlie, talking to someone helped. It was often easier talking to a stranger, fearing no judgment from someone who meant nothing to them. But that was not how the Russian operated. He would not share what was on his mind with some woman, simply because she was there for it. His past was his own. His trauma, his aches, his nightmares. And deep down he was SCARED that opening up to someone would show the cracks underneath the ice. That people would see him differently. Either weak or pathetic or… as the word had tormented him so since the encounter with the psychic bitch… USELESS. He would not pry on what Charlie saw during the mind assault, the same way he hoped Charlie would not ask in return. How could he even begin to tell someone his parents feared him so much that the best course of action was sending him away? Giving their only child to men who used and abused of him for decades, viewing him as a weapon and as an abomination? How to tell someone that for over twenty years or so, the only home he ever had was a hole in the ground? That he barely slept at night, afraid that someone would come and kill him in his sleep? Not even others with powers could be trusted. It was all a matter of SURVIVAL and Matthias learned from a very young age that it was either him… or everyone else. And he wanted to live. He wanted to grow stronger, he wanted to one day get out of that hole and kill every single person that ever had anything to do with his incarceration. That was the goal. That would always be the goal. His blue eyes lingered on his roommate for a second as Matthias was doing his best not to flinch away from him. Charlie was beyond warm. He was hot. Waves of warmth radiated from him in quick succession, forcing the temperature of the room to rise – while Matthias was doing his best to drop it to normal levels. A battle of involuntary wills, so to speak. “It is not that I fear you melting me. I just don’t like warm.” Even Russia was cold. Even the hole he called home was cold. All he had ever known was COLD and anything other than that felt alien to him. The fact that he could also control ice only made him even more susceptible to higher temperatures. And he had never dealt with anyone like Charlie. Not even those that used fire on battles could radiate such a strong and persistent heat like the other man.

Matthias’ eyes lingered for a moment as Charlie presented his bare chest to him, inviting him not only to touch him but also use his powers to cool him down. Almost like he wanted for him to keep him from overheating in a way. Was this why they were paired together for a room assignment? For him to stop Charlie from heating so badly that he would reach a supernova? “I can cool you down.” Not that he would put Charlie through the ringers and drop to absolute zero in temperature but… he could cool his own body temperature. Or at least, try. “Your heat makes me flinch.” The Russian placed one hand over Charlie’s chest, right above his heart as he focused to give the other man the chance to cool off under his freezing touch. “You go supernova. I go absolute zero. Makes wonder who comes on top in end.” Tilting his head to the side, Matthias brought his hand to Charlie’s face, pressing his cold palm over the warming cheek. “You don’t flinch from cold as I do from heat. You need cooling off. Stops you from overheating. Is that why we in same room? I stop you from burning place down?”

[a-supernatural-writer]

Doing Their Makeup

Poly Lost Boys, Michael and Star x Gender neutral reader

Basically came up with these while I was messaging @aliypop​ . Thank you for somehow getting me to a place where I wanted to write an imagine about the lost boys, Michael and Star’s partner wanting to do their makeup. XD This is everyone x reader. 

Also this is kind of my head-canon that Michael and Star became one happy family with David, Dwayne, Paul and Marko. But Max still died cause I don’t think anyone likes him. 

Warnings?: swearing? Cursing? 

Masterlist

The second you told your partners that you wanted to do their makeup, each and everyone one of them were down with the idea, but at all different degrees of being okay with it. 

Paul was the first one to practically bounce his way over to you. He already needed your help with doing his simple eyeliner on a daily basis so you paying attention to his face for more than a few minutes made him a very happy camper. 

Paul LOVES it. I mean it. Give him the whole glam rock look! Glitter? Yes! Winged eyeliner? Yes! Bitch, make him look like a disco ball and he will be very happy. He loves glitter more than any of them and will directly ask you to use as much as you wanted. 

When doing his makeup, he always smiles, loving that your attention was solely on him. Though you have to scold him not to smile because the crinkle in his eyes will totally mess up whatever eyeshadow or eyeliner look you're trying to accomplish. He complies… for about two minutes. 

This boy will have you straddling him as you work, his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin softly. He practically becomes putty in your hands as you gently touch his face. He finds it absolutely adorable that you're being so delicate with him. 

When you're done, he shows it off to everyone around the cave. His babe of a partner went all out and he will brag that his makeup is going to be better than everyone else's once you are done. 

Second would be Marko. Seeing how good you were with Paul, he was excited to see what kind of look you would give him. He wasn’t too much into glitter like his fellow blonde but he was okay if you wanted to use it. Makeup to him was an artistic form of expression so he became your canvas on which to paint on. 

Seeing you figure what colors you wanted to give him and what tools you wanted to use would make him smile with how serious you were taking this task. He would ask you as you worked what your ideas were and you thought looked best on him. 

Your bodies would be close, not sitting in his lap close, but your legs would be locked together as you sat on your makeshift bed. His hands fiddling with whatever piece of clothing he could get his hands on. It was very hard not to touch you and he wanted you to fulfill your wish for the night. 

By the end of it, Marko’s makeup look would have half of the amount of glitter that Paul had. It would be very colorful, almost reflecting the multiple colors of his jacket. Marko was a little easier compared to the others because of those colors, you had more options to work with. 

Marko reacted like Paul, showing it off to everyone. Soon him and Paul compared their looks and pointed out what they liked about them. 

Dwayne was third. He wasn’t overly into it, but he loves seeing you happy and if doing his makeup was going to put a smile on your face, then he was happy to do it. He did have a few things to say though, he was okay with a little glitter but nowhere near Paul's and heck, maybe even half of what you did to Marko. Also, no colors that were too bright. 

From that, you only choose a few warm hues, some reds, oranges and a tiny bit of yellow. Even some earthy tones to complement his tanned skin. In a way you connected it with the jaguar on his leather jacket. 

Dwayne would have his hands placed on your thighs as you worked, saying only a few words here and there, asking simple questions if he was curious about something. If anything he was the calmest one of the bunch, not really interrupting your process. 

In a way it was nice. While you worked, you didn’t really talk, too focused on the task at hand and he thought it was cute when you would bite your lip in concentration. The silence that sometimes hung between you two was sweet, like you both were in your own little world. Minus the fact that Paul and Marko were just outside your makeshift area in the cave making noise. 

When Dwayne was done, he placed a small kiss on your lips and walked out. He didn’t really show off to the others but he couldn’t help but smirk when Paul and Marko grew silent at his new look. 

David was the fourth and probably the one that wasn’t overly crazy about it. If he was going to have glitter, it was going to be tasteful and very little of it. Dark colors only, and if you want to stick on gems, guess what, they better be little and it's gotta be sexy. Make him a sexy princely creature of the night and you are good. 

For once, he let you have control, even with his requests orders on what you can and cannot do. You went to work, both of your knees touching and you had to constantly stop him from moving, trying to smoke his cigarette. In the end, you lost against him cause if he couldn’t smoke a cigarette to distract himself from your hands being so gentle with him, they were going somewhere else and you would get nothing done. 

In between his puffs of smoke, you poured everything into his look wanting it to be perfect because you definitely wanted to do it again in the future. The only way he would let you is if you did a bang up job. 

You made his facial features sharp and his icy blue eyes seemed to pierce through your soul even more with the dark eyeshadow on his eyelids. A little bit of glitter and a few small black gemstones later, he was beautiful. Definitely different from what you were used to, but with David, he could pull off anything and he’d still look good. 

With a smirk, he thanked you for your work, which surprised you, and walked back out to the others. You chuckled when you heard Paul exclaim “Holy shit!” when he saw David. Needless to say, you did make David look like a prince of the night with your talents. 

Second to last was Star. Your beautiful girlfriend of your group of male partners entered your part of the cave, bringing some of her own collection with her. Star was probably the easiest of the group to do makeup for. She already wore red lipstick on the daily and brown toned eyeshadow to compliment her skin but she never went farther than that. 

But tonight, she would let you take it a step further. Nothing too crazy, maybe even a little more toned down than David’s. 

Star practically cuddled up to you as you worked your magic. It was a little difficult but she stayed still nonetheless. You kept her signature red lipstick, and decided to focus more on her eyes and add some stick on gems that matched the colors of her skirt. 

You added a splash of color to her eyes that went well with her usual browns, picking some of her favorite makeup items and mixing them with your own.

Of course you couldn’t help but smile when Star would giggle as the makeup brushes lightly tickled her face. You wanted to scold her for it but it was too cute so you said nothing just having to work around it. 

Just as you were finishing, your last partner, Michael walked in, watching you with curiosity and a slight twinge of interest. When you did finish, Star looked to Michael to see what he thought and happily kissed him when he said he liked it. Which in turn having you redo her lipstick one last time before she left, leaving only you and Michael. 

Michael was probably the most hesitant of the bunch. It wasn’t that he didn’t dislike makeup, he just didn’t know what the process was and never really saw much interest until you expressed how much you love doing it. 

With a little bit of encouragement, Michael sat on your bed, having you sit on his lap. Michael reminded you a little bit of Paul. He was very affectionate but was much softer compared to the blonde. 

Michael asked you the most questions as you worked. Asking what tool was used for what purpose. What colors you were using and why. Glitter? Yeah, why not? Just use it however you see fit and what you thought looked good on him. 

Overall he was excited about this. New things always intrigued him and he was willing to try something new. 

When you told him you were going to give him a more softer look, he had no quarrels with your choice. Just a tiny bit of glitter, some light colors, a sharp eyeliner that could cut someone, accentuating his cheekbones a bit, and even giving him a little bit of gradient lips, made him look even more pretty than he already was. 

You were so proud of yourself that couldn’t help but hug the poor boy. You went all out for your partners and you had a lot of fun doing it. When you let him go after hugging him, he was met by a few compliments from the others who admired his own look that seemed very different from everyone else. Which made the poor boy even more flustered. 

When all was said and done, and after doing your own makeup to your own tastes with the help of Star since, well, mirrors can’t help any of you. You all went down to the boardwalk as one big group date, showing off your talents proudly, taking any compliments, and giving you credit where credit was due. 

If anything was said negatively, especially by a group of surf nazis, guess what? After your group dinner date at the local diner, those surf nazis would be your dessert for the night. 

If that did happen, you’d be a little upset that your work was now covered in blood but they all reassured you that you could give them makeovers whenever you wanted.

[tmnt-obsessed-ace]

When The World Crumbles: Chapter 12, Shattering the Normalcy

Run!

Leo's mind screamed over and over again while he sprinted through the undergrowth. Branches from the trees clawed at his skin but that didn't matter! He couldn't stop! He had to keep going!

Dark smoke circled around him, attacking his lungs with an acrid burning stench as the flames roared throughout the forest.

A wheezing cough tore through his throat while he opened his dark green eyes. squinting to see through the flying soot.

Trees smacked into Leo's body, knocking the air out of his lungs as he continued to run.

He had to keep running.

Nothing else mattered.

Not his lungs filling with the toxic smoke.

Not the flames licking at his legs.

Not the scratches on his body.

All that mattered was that he got away!

Wait…get away from what?

A burning tree crashed to the ground, giving Leo only seconds to skid to a stop lest he plummet straight into the blaze.

"No no no come on!" He whined, coughing heavily as the smoke surrounded him, the red and orange flames boxing him in. Nowhere to run.

"You can not outrun me forever." A deep voice said, overpowering the crackling of burning wood. Leo whipped around, a petrified squeak fell from his lips. A massive beast walked through the fire, seemingly unfazed by the destruction around them.

Leo fell to the ground, the earth hot under his legs. The slider scooted backwards as much as he could with the burning tree behind him. Heat could be felt through his shell, causing him to gulp.

His throat was so dry…

The beast looked down upon the small frightened boy, eyes a glowing pale blue. Its eyes shined brightly against the bright hues of the burning forest.

"S-Sup my dude!" Leo stuttered out between coughs, struggling to look at the beast standing before him.

This monster looked like a swollen dilapidated mess of a man, glowing blue veins shining all over the mangled mess. They connected at the malformed heart in the center of its chest, which covered the turtle's face in a pale glow when this thing leaned forward. Long razor sharp blades jutted out from every angle, especially the beast's hands

"Did you assume that I would let you live after what you had done?" The monster asked, grabbing Leo roughly by the chin and forcing him to stare directly into those terrifying eyes.

Glowing eyes that were sunken into the monster's skull. A skull of metal and bone fused into one. The metal was shaped almost like a crown on the figure's head, reflecting the fire's light at the boy's eyes. It hurt to look at!

Leo didn't know if it was because of how bright the flames were or how disgusting this monster was.

"Do you have nothing to say for your crimes?" The monster asked as the fire grew stronger, climbing to the tops of the tall trees and burning them to ash.

"Look pal, I didn't do anything to you, but can I just say that you are uh-GLEE!" Bad idea Leo. With a swift kick he was flung into the woods, smacking face first into the smoldering ground.

"Ok that was just plain rude!" The beast roared, charging the blue clad turtle. Blades armed at the ready to turn him into a turtle kabob.

Leo screamed, trying to dodge the blades but the monster was faster, every cut felt deeper than the last as more and more of his precious blood was spilt onto the ground.

He collapsed to the ground, looking up at the monster looming over him. It cackled into the night, with the flames swirling in approval.

"Why are you doing this? What did I do to you, huh?" Leo shouted as the forest fire grew stronger, circling around them.

"You forget so easily?" Another slash, another spray of blood soaking the ground. Leo groaned, covering the wound with his hands. That did nothing to stop the oozing crimson.

"Buddy I have the memory of a goldfish! I forget things my brothers told me five minutes ago!" The slider was punched in the jaw, hard enough to leave his head spinning.

"You ran your sword through my neck! You severed my head from my body!"

"That would no doubt be an improvement!" He was grabbed by the throat and slammed back into the ground, all the air rushing out of his lungs.

"However even in death I will continue to haunt you and your disgusting bloodline!" Another hard punch collided with Leo's head, he could taste blood on his tongue. "How do you live with yourself knowing that blood had been spilt onto your hands, a life had been ended because of you?"

"Just peachy actually!" He was slammed into the ground once more, blurry eyes looking up at the monster.

"Tell me boy, how does it feel to know that we are the same, you and I." Leo rolled his eyes, and with all the self preservation of a toddler with a metal fork he spoke again.

"Uh no we aren't, I'm actually attractive!" The monster snarled, oh it didn't like that.

It raised a leg and slammed it downwards onto Leo's right knee, a horrible crunch and a strangled scream from the turtle echoed through the forest. The joint shattered like glass, white hot agony sharp as a knife coursed through his entire body.

"Pathetic." The monster hissed, kicking the broken joint for extra torment. Another scream tore through Leo's throat.

"Dude you just broke my leg, what do you want from me?" The blue clad turtle nearly sobbed, struggling against the pain.

"I want you to wake up every single day and know that you are the very thing your pathetic master would despise!"

"What do you mean by that? That could mean literally anything!" Leo shouted, trembling like a leaf, his mouth moving on its own yet again. "Do you mean gay or something? Because if you do that is bull shit Pops already knows and he is real damn cool about it! Not cool assuming my dad is homophobic you dick!"

The beast roared, metal claws digging into Leo's plastron before slamming him into a nearby tree, pinning him to the burning plant.

"You are a cold blooded killer." His eyes went wide. "So boy, who will be the next one to fall by your blade? Perhaps it will be one of your precious brothers? It's only a matter of time before more blood is spilt because of you."

Before Leo could react he was thrown into the heart of the flames, screaming as they devoured his body.

An image flashed before his eyes.

A katana in his shaking hand, the silver colored blade stained dark red as the thick fluid poured off the metal.

In the reflection was a turtle in a black mask with dark streaks painting his cheeks, staring back at him, eyes growing wide with horror.

The eyes were…blue.

Leo woke up with a scream, falling off his bed and landing harshly on the floor of his subway car room. Every breath was a short huff of air that barely reached his lungs.

"Wha…" He whined before slapping a clammy hand to his mouth, hot bile rapidly rising in his throat. In a panic he smacked his other hand around, trying to feel for his katanas. After a few seconds of fighting against his raging stomach he grabbed one of the swords and sliced a portal open. Leo stumbled through, landing in the bathroom.

He barely got the toilet open before the bile spilled from his mouth, thankfully into the toilet bowl. The slider gulped several breaths of air as he steadied himself, despite his vision swimming.

'Calm down Leon, you're fine!' His knuckles gripped the rim of the toilet again as more bile gushed from his mouth with a retching gagging sound.

"Leo!" Raph shouted, slamming the bathroom door open. Leo weakly looked up, whimpering at his older brother. He was shaking like a leaf! Despite him dripping with sweat he wasn't shivering because he was cold.

He was shivering because he was scared.

In an instant, Raph's warm hands were rubbing up and down against the slider's shell through his pajamas. "It's ok Leo, Raph's gotchu." His brother cooed, despite the small lisp he had from the retainer in his mouth.

"It's alright I'm all-oh not again!" Leo said before throwing up for a third time. He spent the next few minutes gagging over the toilet seat, not much coming up anymore.

Once he was certain nothing more would come up he flopped onto the floor, groaning heavily.

Raph took this as an opportunity to flush the toilet and shut it before carefully setting his younger brother on the lid.

"You alright now? Do you need anything?" Leo pointed at the sink.

"Water…" The snapper nodded, grabbing a nearby cup and filling it to the brim with cold water. Leo downed it in one gulp, the cool liquid soothing his burning throat. After three more cups he was better.

"So what happened? I heard you scream!" Raph asked, worry evident in his voice.

"Just a nightmare, nothing to worry about!" A wet rag was pressed against Leo's forehead, wiping away the thin layer of sweat.

A small knock on the door frame caught their attention. Both turtles turned to see Leonardo leaning against the doorway, mask pulled down around his neck and an unsheathed katana in hand. Leo couldn't help but wince at the dark eye bags under his counterpart's eyes.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah yeah we're fine, Leon apparently just had a bad nightmare." The oldest turtle nodded, shooting Leo a sympathetic glance.

"That makes two of us." Leonardo mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Wait you too! Are you ok?" Raph asked instantly, only to get waved off.

"It's nothing, I just woke up because I heard you scream, I thought something happened." Leo raised a brow, his counterpart had a nightmare too? If he did, why was he getting defensive about it?

Unless…

"What you dream of getting burned alive too?" Leo slurred, earning a horrified look from Raph. Shit.

"You what?" Leo didn't pay his brother or his sudden barrage of questions any mind, eyes focused on the older turtle.

Leonardo backed away. His eyes, which Leo only just noticed were extremely bloodshot, went wide as dozens of emotions flashed through those sapphire depths.

After a second, Leonardo schooled his expression into something neutral, smothering all emotions so fast it could put Donnie to shame.

"Like I said, it doesn't matter. I'm going back to bed, we have a lot of planning to do in the morning." With that dismissive excuse, Leonardo turned and left the bathroom, with a concerned Raph trying to follow him.

"Wait Leo what do you mean it doesn't matter? Of course it matters! Leo come back here please-"

"Goodnight!" Was the last thing the short turtle said before disappearing down the subway tunnel to the group's shared sidecar bedroom. Raph mumbled something under his breath.

"He is weird." Leo yawned, a hand on his shoulder making him look up.

"Sorry for the distraction but what did you mean you dreamed about burning alive?" Raph asked, voice a deadly whisper.

Leo cringed, the memories of flames tearing him apart still too fresh.

"Can we talk about it in the morning? Please?" Raph's gaze softened and he nodded, pulling his younger brother into a tight but gentle hug.

"We should probably get to bed too." The snapper said after a while. Leonardo was right, they needed to sleep too.

As they left the bathroom, Leo started fidgeting. The thought of being alone in his room made him cringe.

"Something wrong?"

"Can…Can I sleep in your room tonight?"

"Of course you can!" With that Leo was scooped up and rested on Raph's shoulder as he walked to his bedroom.

However before they went inside, Leo could swear he felt something was watching them.

Not something…someone.

Someone with dark blue eyes no doubt.

Raph laid down in his bed, pulling Leo close like a teddy bear.

"Good night Leo."

"G'night Raph…" The snapper went back to sleep, holding Leo close.

Leo sighed, hearing the faint metal on metal sound of a subway car door being closed. The car the four older turtles were staying in was the one across from Raph's.

As he drifted off, snuggled into Raph's side, the faint mumbling of his counterpart filled his ears. Whatever was going on with him, it can wait until morning.

A loud knock against the metal door woke Raph up. The snapper groaned as he climbed off the bed. Leo had already left, judging by the now cold blankets.

"Hope he didn't have another nightmare." Raph mumbled, another loud knock forcing him to look at the door. The second knock was harder than the last, whoever was knocking was starting to get impatient. He pulled the door open, revealing his much shorter counterpart.

"Good morning little buddy." Raphael scowled at the nickname. He was in his full gear and weapons, wide awake too. "Do you need something?"

"Fearless called a meeting." Raph nodded, feeling much more awake. Today they had to make a plan to get their counterparts back home before their dimension was completely invaded.

"Right, right of course!" He left his bedroom, carefully moving past Raphael so he could join the meeting.

Snickering made the snapper stop dead in his tracks.

"Uh dude you might wanna get dressed first because no one in their right mind will take you seriously with a red heart onesie!" Raphael barked out, trying not to laugh. The snapper blushed, scrambling back into his room to change.

"I'll change, just give me a second!"

"Are you wearing a retainer? Oh my god that is fucking hilarious! Mikey's gonna eat this up!"

Raph took the large retainer out of his mouth, tying his bandana over his head.

"Tell Leo I'll be right there!" Raphael only laughed as he walked back down the halls.

"Meeting's in the living room! If you're late you'll become the next victim of Dr.Prankenstein!"

Dr…Prankenstein? What?

If that was anything like Dr. Delicate Touch, Raph didn't want to push his luck.

After folding his pajamas back up and putting on his gear, the red clad turtle went to the living room.

When he arrived, an old black board was standing in the center of the room and already covered in fragments of plans and doodles, four out of the eight turtles were there as well.

Leonardo and Raphael were discussing something in hushed voices. Raph couldn't help but notice the way the former had one hand resting on top of the twin katanas at his side, loosely gripping the dark brown near black handles. As if he was waiting for something to jump out and attack. Raphael wasn't faring much better, his sais in his hands, knuckles near white.

Next was Donatello, who was rapidly typing on his fixed laptop. Well calling it 'fixed' was a bit of an exaggeration. All the necessary repairs needed to make it function had been performed, however it still looked like it had been put through the wringer. If Donnie sees that he will most likely steal that laptop and perform quite a few…'upgrades'.

The last turtle in the room was Leo, who was sitting on the floor, yawning like crazy. He kept glancing suspiciously at his counterpart, as if he were studying the older turtle.

"Good morning!" Raph said, gaining the four's attention.

"So you ditched the heart pajamas and retainer?" His counterpart asked mockingly. Leonardo elbowed his brother in the side, mumbling a quiet 'Behave.'

Raphael rolled his eyes.

"Anyways the meeting will officially start once Mikey and little Mikey finish making breakfast." Leonardo stated coolly, the scent of pancakes wafting through the lair.

"Sounds good!" Raph said with a nervous chuckle, noticing the incredibly visible bags under the oldest turtle's eyes.

Did he sleep at all? He said he had a bad nightmare too…He didn't seem as shaken as Leo was, but why was he so dismissive about it? Was it because Raph was practically a stranger? Did Leonardo's brothers know at least?

"You alright Lee? You seem tired." The words spill out before Raph can stop them. Leonardo turns to him, raising a brow.

Both Donatello and Raphael were also watching.

"I'm fine-"

"You said you had a nightmare too." Leo interrupted, staring directly at his counterpart.

The two blue clad turtles locked eyes, giving each other a stare down.

"I didn't say that." Leonardo said flatly. Leo jumped up so fast he nearly knocked the blackboard over.

"Bullshit! I call bullshit!" The slider yelled, Raphael raised his sais.

"It is not-"

"Raph can you confirm that what he said is bullshit?" Raph gulped, rubbing the back of his head.

"Well uh…yeah-"

"Ha! See I have a witness! Why are you lyin?"

"I am telling you that I am not lying!" Poor Leonardo was getting flustered. And not the good kind of flustered, the kind that makes you want to crawl into a hole and rot away. Raph frowned, he didn't mean to put the older turtle on the spot like this.

"Leo cool it." Raph said in his 'older brother voice.' Leo huffed and crossed his arms.

Donatello not so subtly kicked Leo in the legs, as he was sitting the closest to the slider. Raphael was giving him the look of hell, thankfully putting his sais away.

"Where's little Donnie?" Leonardo asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

"He wasn't in his room." Donatello replied, shooting his older brother a concerned look.

"Then he pulled an all-nighter and is in his lab!" Raph added with a disappointed sigh, turning to go and brave the horror of pulling the soft shell away from his work.

"Alright then, I'll go get him." With that Leonardo began to head to the lab, not even bothering to look back at the four.

Once Leonardo was out of earshot, his counterpart was on the receiving end of two death glares from his brothers.

"What the fuck was that about?" Raphael hissed, moving to stand next to Donatello.

"Sorry I was just asking, and he was lying! Raph and I both heard him say that he had a nightmare!" Leo please learn to keep your mouth shut.

Before the short turtle could unleash the rage of a thousand furious chihuahuas, Raph intervened.

"Leo what were you thinking? You can't just accuse someone, let alone a guest, of lying just because he didn't want to talk about it!" The snapper began to scold, with Leo's pout fading into a frown.

"Wait, what do you mean he told you he had a nightmare?" Donatello asked as a screech steadily growing in both volume and in pitch began to echo from the lab.

"Well…"

"I dreamt that I was burning alive y'know, and he came to check on me after I threw up in the bathroom." Both older turtles shared a horrified look, the anger turning into concern.

"Y-you what?" Donatello stuttered out.

"Jesus Christ man." Raphael whispered, shaking his head.

"We still have to talk about that." Leo stuck out his tongue.

"Well if shorty doesn't have to talk about his nightmare then…neither do I!" The blue clad turtle was trembling a bit.

Raph couldn't help but sigh, yeah that was fair and he couldn't just pressure his brother into talking about it without him shutting down.

"Who's hungry?" Michelangelo called out from the kitchen.

"We made pancakes!" Mikey added with glee. Perfect timing.

Leo got up, shoving past Raphael and all but running to the kitchen.

"Look I'm really sorry I was just worried about Leonardo." Raph said quietly, that little argument had started because of him asking after all.

"We'll check on him later." Donatello said before leaving the living room. However Raph couldn't help but notice the way the purple clad turtle shied away from him a bit. It was subtle but as the oldest brother you learn to pick up little clues about your younger siblings.

Raph couldn't help but frown, Donatello seemed…almost scared of him.

The thought that his brothers, even an alternate version, would be scared of him made his stomach clench.

"What's the matter with you? You look like you watched a puppy get kicked." Raphael asked in his usual tone.

"Your brothers are afraid of me."

The shorter turtle raised a brow, the gears in his head starting to turn.

"Come on." Leonardo's voice cut through the air as he came back. In his arms was Donnie, sporting the angriest pouting scowl to ever exist. The softshell was loudly hissing, but made no move to get out of Leonardo's grip.

Both red clad turtles started laughing at Donnie, who only started hissing louder in response.

Raph carefully took his younger brother from Leonardo's arms, setting him on his shoulder.

"How dare you use positive reinforcement against me! You are evil Leonardo, evil!" Was Donnie's over dramatic reply. Leonardo just sighed.

"Let's go eat so we can begin." The leader in blue stated as they made their way to the kitchen.

Raphael poked his counterpart's arm. When the snapper turned down to look at him he quietly began to whisper.

"I'll talk to Donnie and Mikey, see what's bothering them." Raph nodded gratefully. The smell of pancakes made him relax a bit. Hopefully they could relax for a bit before it was time to plan.

After breakfast the eight turtles gathered in the living room, with Leonardo standing at the blackboard.

"First things first, how are we going to get back to our dimension?" The eldest turtle had begun, only to be met with silence.

"I thought you were supposed to go to the Dimension X place?" Mikey asked, a bit confused.

"We do but I figured it would be easier to get back to our dimension first then go with our original plan to take the Kraang portal to Dimension X."

"Assuming someone will program it right this time." Donatello glared at a certain red clad turtle that just had to say that.

"Once again I do not know what happened, perhaps I could go through the portal's programming to see exactly what caused us to end up in this dimension."

"Like we have time for that!"

"Well I want to be sure we don't end up in another alternate dimension again!"

"Yeah that would suck!" Leo interjected. "Imagine another dimension where Raph's even shorter!"

Raphael's eye twitched. Michelangelo started snickering.

Leonardo clapped his hands, regaining the turtles' attention.

"Like I was saying, we will get back to our own dimension first then take the Kraang portal to their dimension. So how are we getting home?"

Donnie sat up, an idea sparking in his eyes.

"Well I have been working on a portal device in case we don't have Nardo to portal us out of dangerous situations…"

The purple clad turtle ran off to his lab, leaving the other seven turtles behind. After a few minutes a large neon purple circular device was pushed into the living room.

"Brethren and counterparts, may your minds be blown to pieces by the power of Donnie Tech!" The machine was turned on with a flick of a switch, the neon lights shining to life.

"Yo that is so cool!" Michelangelo gasped, climbing over Raphael to get a better look.

Donatello popped up, instantly gushing over the device while rambling on and on.

"This can get us home?" Leonardo asked, voice filled with growing hope.

"Not exactly…it's still in beta and there's a few bugs. Allow me to demonstrate! Nardo, put your katanas here and here." Donnie gestured to two deep slits on either side of the circle.

The slider shrugged, unsheathing his katanas and inserting the blades into the machine. Donnie pulled out a small remote, pressing the button.

Bright light began to form in the center of the device, swirling outwards till the circular ring was filled with a blueish-purple glow. It crackled and popped, the air buzzing around it.

"So what exactly are these 'bugs' you mentioned?" Raph asked, trying to keep Mikey from touching the glowing portal.

"Ah well…" Donnie pulled out a purple bouncy ball less than half the size of his hand. He tossed the rubber ball into the portal, a loud buzzing sound and the stench of burnt rubber filled the lair. He went around the portal, scooping something off the ground with one of the metal pincers in his battle shell. When he walked back all eyes went wide at the sight.

In Donnie's pincer was a small pile of dark gray dust, steam floating from it.

The ball had been vaporized.

"I have no idea why the portal is doing that, plus I want it to be able to work without using Leon's swords as a power supply but the last time I tried that it caused a small blackout."

"Wait, that was you?"

"Do you think you and Dee could fix the problem?" Leonardo asked, tapping the cane against the ground with nervousness.

"Even if we could, this portal won't be able to take you guys home." Both Donnie's looked at the portal as it began to shut down.

"Donnie elaborate." Raph chided.

"Scoff, I was about to! This portal is only strong enough to take you from room to room. Going to an entirely different dimension would require nearly a million times this much power, assuming that it doesn't instantly fry the circuits!"

"So now what are we just stuck here?" Raphael huffed, pushing Michelangelo off of him in the classic way siblings do.

"Well we could try and locate this Kraang's interdimensional portal."

"But the Kraang aren't a thing here!" Mikey interrupted. "We've never even heard of them until you guys showed up!"

"He's right, TCRI isn't even a thing here!" Michelangelo added, rolling over on the floor.

"What's TCRI?"

"Kraang base, keep up!"

Leonardo tapped his cane against the ground, gaining everyone's attention.

"We can't keep going in circles like this! Ok so the Kraang are either not here or extremely well hidden," Leonardo began making notes on the blackboard. "The portal little Donnie built is instant death, what other ideas do we have?"

"Perhaps if we upgraded the portal and found a suitable power source it could take us home!" Donatello chimed in, shooting his younger counterpart a determined look.

"And just how are you gonna upgrade that?" Donatello smirked.

"With Kraang tech of course!"

"We just established that they aren't here! If they were, don't you think Deedee would've used their tech to take over the world by now?"

"That statement is in fact accurate, and for the hundredth time do not use that nickname!"

"Yeah but a bunch of Kraang did follow us through the portal and you already claimed one of their cannons so might as well take the rest."

The eight turtles smiled a bit, a plan was starting to come together.

"So we'll go back to the sawmill and reap our rewards!" Leo cheered, happily flapping his arms.

"You actually think there will be anything left? After what? A week!" Raphael said with a bitter grumble. A week of New York being at the mercy of Kraang Prime and her damn near endless supply of mutagen.

"We'll also make it a recon mission, see if there are really no Kraang hideouts in this dimension." The snapping turtle said, cracking his knuckles.

"Is it a good idea for them to come?" The four older turtles turned to look at Donnie. "They are still healing from all their injuries."

"We'll be fine, we've been hurt worse." Why did Michelangelo glance at Leonardo when he said that?

"Alright team, we finally got a plan, let's make it happen!"

A loud high pitched screech suddenly filled the lair, making all the turtles cover their ears. Like metal scraping against metal. It kept getting louder and louder, the walks practically shaking!

"What the fuck!"

"Ow my ears!"

"The portal! It's going crazy!"

"How do we turn it off?"

"Make it stop!"

"Why is it screaming?"

"Donnie turn it off!"

"I'm trying!"

Another loud screech echoed through the lair, one of the katanas in the machine spasming and jerking about as it struggled in its restraints.

"Oh no no no, EVERYONE GET DOWN!"

Time seemed to slow down as the katana started jerking free from the metal restraints with a loud bang and was flying across the room. It was aiming straight for Leonardo.

"LEO MOVE!"

There was a loud crash and a near blinding flash of blue light that seemed to shake the entire subway station. The air smells burnt as the awful sound went away. The turtles were knocked to the ground by the blast.

"Everyone ok?" Raph asked as everyone recovered.

"I'm good." Mikey said, popping out from his shell. Michelangelo did the same.

"My ears are ringing but I'm fine!" Leo added.

"Both little Donnie and I are unharmed." Donatello replied, helping his younger counterpart stand back up.

"Head fucking hurts but I'm-LEO!" Raphael screamed. The blue clad turtle in question was lying face down on the floor. He wasn't moving. The katana had flown straight towards him.

Oh no…

Raphael jumped off the couch and bounded to his older brother's side. The six other turtles quickly followed suit.

Leonardo was turned over, thankfully, by some miracle, no katanas were impaled in his body. However there was a long thick cut on his cheek.

Leo opened the bag on his belt, pulling out rolls of gauze and antiseptic spray as the other turtles began yelling.

"Ohmigosh!"

"Is he ok?"

"Is he ok? He nearly got impaled by a runaway sword!"

"I am so incredibly sorry! This has literally never happened before!"

"Pulse is normal and he's breathing fine."

"Then why isn't he awake?"

"He must've hit his head on the floor."

"Leo, wake up! Come on dude you gotta wake up!"

"Will all of you stop talking for five seconds!" The room went quiet as Leo carefully stitched the skin closed and covered the gash with gauze.

Donatello was also looking him over, gently tilting his head to see if there were any signs of head trauma.

"Mikey go get a washcloth and a bowl of water from the kitchen."

"Which Mikey-"

"I don't care which one of you does it, one of you go do it!" Raphael snapped, with Mikey squeaking nervously before sprinting to the kitchen.

"Let's move him to the couch." Raph said, scooping the knocked out turtle into his arms and laying him down on the couch.

"He's gonna be ok…right?" Michelangelo asked timidly.

"He probably just knocked his head, he'll be fine!" The three older turtles did not look convinced in the slightest. In fact there was an almost haunted look in their eyes as they watched their older brother lay near deathly still on the couch. The only signs he was alive were the steady rise and fall of his chest. Raphael squeezed Leonardo's hands tightly while Donatello muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

Mikey came back with a bowl of cool water and a washcloth, struggling not to spill it as he ran.

Donnie took the bowl and handed it to Leo. The slider began dabbing the cool washcloth against his counterpart's forehead.

"Boys! What happened, what's going on!" All four of the younger turtles turned to see their rat father standing at the turnstiles, panting heavily while his eyes were filled with so much worry.

Oh right, yesterday Splinter had gone out to the city about five hours before the counterparts first woke up. Though he hadn't said exactly why he left. And here he was just coming back.

"Everything's fine pops!" Raph called back, Splinter ignoring him completely.

"I heard screaming and an explosion! And you want to tell me that everything's 'fine' how could that possibly be true!" The short rat yelled, finally noticing the additional turtles amongst his sons. Specifically how all seven were crowded around the couch, another turtle barely visible behind the others. The unknown three didn't even look up when Splinter came in, they were too focused on the fourth one to even notice.

"Uh yeah our guests are awake, well one got knocked out by Donnie's invention."

"That has literally never happened before! I have tested the portal with your katanas at least a dozen times and this never happened!"

"Well our other selves from a different dimension coming here never happens either!"

"What kind of come back is that Nardo?"

"Will both of you cool it?"

"Enough! You four better start explaining why one of our guests isn't even conscious!"

A quiet groan from the couch stopped Splinter before he could continue his rant. The turtle in question started to wake up, eyes fluttering open.

"Am I dead?" He asked. Splinter couldn't help but cover his mouth at how raspy the fourth turtle's voice was.

"LEO!" The other three strange turtles shouted as he sat up. The fourth turtle was pulled into a bear hug of seven turtles.

"You ok dude?"

"Yeah I'm fine, just a headache. What happened anyways?" That's what Splinter would also like to know. Donnie looked at the portal machine, cringing at the torn, singed metal. That was high grade titanium and the katana tore through it! Then he looked at the blackboard, which had been hit.

The blackboard now had a massive cracked hole in it, the offending katana impaled in the far concrete wall.

"The portal machine went crazy! One of Leon's swords nearly turned you into a fucking turtle kebab!" The short red one angrily hissed.

"Luckily it seems the blade only grazed you." The other purple one added gesturing to a wad of gauze taped to the turtle's cheek.

"I am just glad that you are alright." Splinter as he came over to the couch. The four guests finally noticed his presence with all four of them looking down with confused looks.

"Who's the little guy?" The other orange one asked, voice shaking a bit.

"Oh yeah you guys haven't met yet! Guys, this is our dad Splinter! Dad these are our other dimensional counterparts! Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo!" Mikey said with his usual chipper.

The four turtles said nothing, their eyes fixed on Splinter. However it didn't seem like they were actually looking at him, it was more like a thousand yard stare into nothingness.

"You good mis hermanos?" Leo asked, nudging the four turtles. They didn't react, they were as still as statues save for breathing which had gotten shallow.

"It's alright, Pops isn't going to hurt you or anything." Raph cooed softly. However it didn't seem exactly like they were afraid of Splinter.

Finally one of them moved, it was Leonardo. He tapped each of the other three turtles on the shell, gaining their attention before speaking, voice a hushed whisper.

"Sā, iki-mashō." His three brothers nodded, climbing off the couch and following the leader. Splinter's eyes went wide, he hadn't expected the turtle to speak Japanese.

"Uh where are you going?" Donnie asked as the four turtles began to leave, Michelangelo had also started sniffling.

"The recon mission? Remember that?" The leader replied while his voice faltered. It was then it became abundantly clear that something was wrong.

Michelangelo was hugging himself, trying to not to make a sound, though his little whines and sniffles could still be heard. Was he crying?

Raphael had his sais clutched so tightly in his hands his knuckles were snow white, arms shaking from the tension. He was growling but at what.

Donatello was muttering under his breath, one arm holding his younger brother while the other hung limply at his side. His breathing had gotten heavy.

Finally there was Leonardo, standing so rigid he might as well be a statue. However despite that he was shaking like a leaf in the wind, each breath sounding more forced than the last.

"We still have to get ready for the mission! And you guys aren't fit to go yet your injuries are still healing!" Leo half shouted as the four turtles began to leave.

Leo's protests went ignored.

"Leo's right, we can get going soon if that's what you want but we gotta refuel the Turtle Tank first!" Raph added, once again getting no response.

"Besides you four barely even know the layout of the city, we do!" Was Donnie addition.

The tension levels were rising so fast you could drown in it. As the four turtles got to the turnstiles, Mikey spoke.

"Seriously what's wrong, how are we supposed to help if you aren't saying anything?"

"Orange is right, let us help you-"

"SHUT UP!" All four turtles yelled in near perfect sync. Their eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Splinter's heart broke at the sight.

There was so much pain in their eyes. So much fear, anger and grief. So much grief…

Donatello pulled out a smoke bomb and chucked it to the floor. Dark purple smoke filled the lair and once it faded the four turtles were gone.

"Damn it not again!" Leo groaned, rubbing his face. A metallic buzzing sound made everyone but Splinter flinch.

"Uh Leo, your katana is throwing a tantrum again…" Sure enough the katana that impaled the wall was buzzing like crazy as it tried to squirm out of the concrete.

The slider removed the unruly blade, it settled back down in his hands. Though it was still vibrating.

"Dumb thing's been acting stupid all week." All eyes were on Leo.

"What do you mean by that?" Leo gulped, suddenly looking guilty.

"It's been vibrating non stop since we brought our counterparts home." One of Donnie's eyes began to twitch.

"You're telling me that one of your mystic weapons, made from your own soul, was acting weird and instead of doing the logical thing and tell us you kept it to yourself and plugged it into the portal generator I spent months working on?" Leo gulped.

"Uh well…" Raph grabbed Leo's shoulder.

"You also started having bad nightmares the same night we brought our counterparts home and you still haven't talked about them. For goodness sake the only reason I know about last night's was because you threw up!" Poor Leo kept looking more and more guilty.

"You shouldn't keep secrets like that Leon, you're starting to worry us" Mikey said, crossing his arms.

"Who said I was keeping secrets!" Leo yelled, grabbing his other katana from the portal generator. Donnie screeched, trying to tackle his dumbass twin. He would've too if Raph hadn't grabbed him.

"Nardo I will tear your god damn insides out and turn them into origami! You stupid fucking-" Raph's big hand covered the purple clad turtle's mouth as he spewed curse after curse.

"Well I'd love to stay and chat but I'm gonna make sure our brothers from another mother don't get kidnapped and sold on the black market or something! Buh buh bye!" A blue portal was slashed through the air, the slider jumping through and ignoring the shouts of his family.

When the dust settled, Splinter gave his sons a horrified glance.

Leo's weapon was on the fritz, his son was also apparently having nightmares, alternate versions of his children suddenly appearing, the other turtles dressed like they were ready for war, the haunted looks in their eyes…

"Dad?" Mikey asked softly, whimpering a bit. "What should we do now?"

"Where are the other boys heading?"

"An old abandoned sawmill, that was where they first arrived in our dimension." Raph said, a certain softshell trying to bite his hand.

"Go then, make sure they're alright!"

His three remaining children nodded, with Donnie finally being released.

He let out a furious cackle, making his family shudder.

"When this is over I'm going to hunt Nardo for sport! It will be a bloodbath!" The murderous turtle screamed and bolted to the turtle tank.

The oldest and youngest turtles follow suit, waving goodbye to the short rat that was standing in the living room.

As Splinter was left alone with his own thoughts, he realized something.

Right before Leo had portaled away, Splinter caught a glimpse of his dark green eyes.

Only they weren't green…they were blue.

[katsukikitten]

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, mentions of animal harm, sexual themes, god/fantasy au for BNHAREM this badboi is 8k so enjoy~

The sound of a wind chime echoes across the small field just outside your home. The breeze carries the smell of summer bloomed blossoms and with it the threat of rain as it comes from down the mountain. 

A soft brown creature catches your eye as your mother picks flowers and berries for the festival. 

“Bunbun!” You exclaim, pointing as you tug on your mother’s tattered kimono, she responds with a soft hmm. Her eyes still focused on the wide range of flowers although her vision blurs. 

But at least you weren’t picked for this festival, no it would be many years before you would be in the running. Your mother’s only wish was for you to be unfavorable. Mother is so engrossed that she does not see you slip away, slowly following the bunny into the forest. 

Soon the soft brown creature begins to hop, faster and faster as you giggle running full speed ahead. Not noticing how the trees thicken or how dark eyes seem to peer through the trees, their mawls salivating with unsated hunger. With gnashing teeth they stalk ever closer all the while you rush to catch the creature just for it to jump high into the air. Nose diving straight for the ground, you copy its actions but the bunny is faster than you. Slipping into the burrow with ease as you fall face first into dirt and rocks. 

“O..ow. Momma!” You sniffle, turning around for some much needed motherly love, but instead of your mother hunched over collecting boring things in her basket you are met with a dense forest. The setting sun washes over the trees giving the thick pines and maples a ghoulish red hue.  Suddenly you are hyper aware of the sounds around you, a stick snaps in the brush. Your head turns as if you were a startled deer, eyes wide, heart racing as you strain to hear over the rushing blood in your ears. Dark figures move in the long shadows and haunting laughs echo around you. Beady eyes shine in the darkness causing a small whimper to leave your lips. Acting on instinct you rush to your feet, running through the woods. Briers snatch at your small ankles, leaving angry red lines in their wake, wanting nothing more than to make you a child of the forest.

“MOOOM!” You shout, panting as they force you further into the mountain, you take a quick left when one jumps from the right causing you to trip over a branch falling into a small clearing, faintly you hear the rush of a spring.

Scuffling rouses a sleepy garnet haired man who lounges in a steaming hot spring, that’s sprinkled with fallen petals of mountain flowers. He thinks to dismiss it until a scream cuts through the serenity of the pines. Whatever animal it is, it sounds small and this stirs something in the mountainous man. Sadly this was the circle of life, he reminds himself as he sinks deeper into the burning hot spring. 

“MOMMA HELP PWEESE!!” You scream, trying to get up but this time you are entangled in a briar patch, thorn and vine twisting around your tender skin. It seems the wicked green plant will have its wish. 

All the while the shadows stalk closer, their bright beady eyes blown wide as their jaws unhinge for their meal. They get on their haunches to launch themselves at you until something causes them to freeze. The trees shake around you while the Earth rumbles as if there were a thunder storm beneath the rich dirt. 

“Hello little flower. Are you lost?” You whip your head towards the sound. Lip quivering as you stare up at a tall, built man. But it was his eyes that stood out the most. 

His glistening rubies glow as fading sunlight catches his hair, emphasizing that the strands are a red so deep one could mistake it as black. Your eyes play tricks on you as the air seems charged and yet calm, giving him a surreal aura. He stands tall, half relaxed as one arm is lazily hanging from his dark rose kimono while the rest of his sculpted body is exposed to the slowly cooling air. You weigh your options as best you can before you scramble to your savior. Clinging to his leg as your tears begin to stain his kimono. 

He breathes in deeply and before he can speak the dark figures vanish, melting into the shadows that stretch in the last winking light of the Sun. He crouches down to you, pushing hair past your face. 

“Don’t cry little flower. Here.” A beautiful flower crown appears in his hands. The  white petals with contrasting amethyst stripes down the center seem to have their own shimmering bio-luminescence making it feel other worldly as he places it atop your head. He chooses the dietes flower for its symbolism and rarity, unknowingly sealing your fate. 

“Is that better, little one?” You nod in response, sniffling softly as he scoops you up walking you until he can just see what must be your home through the thick trees. He watches what he assumes your mother to panic, as the village shouts what must be your name. 

“You’ll have to walk the rest of the way okay little flower?” He sets you down gently before you give a big nod. Cold bare feet crunching the leaves against the forest floor. 

You come into the clearing of your home, the sea of yellows, pinks and reds winking in the stark light of the moon. 

“Momma…” You call softly, the world stops turning on its axis before she rushes to you, pulling you into her arms before her eyes are filled with overflowing fear. Fat droplets leave her long lashes as she snatches the crown away, but it is too late. It has been seen by all. 

“Oh she is favored by the Gods.” Someone comments. 

“If she grows into anything like her mother she will be the best choice to appease the Mountain God!" 

"Let us mark this day and the family name so we may remember 16 years from now." 

They continue to gossip as your mother squeezes you tight enough that it hurts. Her mind racing as she carries you inside, she tucks you in without a word of a scolding. Coaxing you to drink some lavender tea that pulls you into a deep sleep beneath the symphony of crickets and the like.

You do not hear your mother return and if you do, you guess she is doing her nightly routine. Fluffing your blankets and making sure your futon is warm enough but what you weren’t expecting was the cold bite of a blade pressing into the flesh above your left eyebrow.  

"Mom…Momma’s sorry baby.” She chokes on her sobs as she pulls the cool metal hard and deep, crying so loud she can barely hear your scream.  

But that was how long ago? Almost two decades? You toss a rock into your reflection, distorting your marred face as your childhood flashes before your eyes. 

You remember there was shouting, lots of shouting of how you are now “unfavorable” “dishonorable” “an abomination” the next day and from then it’s a blur of insults and isolation. Nothing but the wind in your hair, the creaking of the trees and a dream of glistening rubies kept you alive, desperate to return to the last time you were happy. Although you were unsure of who you saw in the mountain that fated night, a part of you could guess. It had to be the Spirit of the Mountain, Kirishima. Because who else actually looked like the painted scrolls that littered the village and shrines? In your opinion they had his image all wrong. 

He does not scowl or wear a grimace, no his smile is sharp toothed and bright. You sigh, wondering if you will ever bump into him again. 

An inhuman scream tears through the serenity of the babbling brook causing a chill to run through your spine. If you had to guess it was most likely a fox or wolf finally catching up to its meal. 

“They must eat too…” You murmur to yourself, drawing your knees to your chest. The wind rustles the leaves overhead giving you sharp visions of beady black eyes from the past. 

“Don’t let it get away!” A shout from your left before the animal comes scurrying through the brush, running smack into your lap. It is a small fox, its tail missing and in its wake a crude weeping cut. Your vision blurs red as you take off your top layer of kimono, wrapping the poor thing in the brown fabric. 

The culprits come into view, the village elder’s son holds the tail while his favorite goon holds the knife. Red falls to the Earth in nauseating droplets. 

“Well well well, looks like we found something else we can carve up huh?” The goon asks with a smile, “Just keep quiet freak." 

The elder’s son is hesitant, something odd grows in his eyes and chest. Suddenly the tail feels a lot heavier than what it was moments ago, especially so under the weight of your single gaze. Your left eye although clouded over seems to stare straight into his soul. Can you see the desperation he has? Worst yet can you see how tainted he is? 

"Oi Kenji” The goon nudges him, clearly only hanging around the future heir for his influence and with it a hope of immunity to terrorize as he pleases. 

The motion brings him back to the present while a plan begins to form in his head. Would anyone believe the dishonorable, disowned freak over him? Could he do things to you that no matter how loud you screamed the truth it would fall on deaf ears? 

His cruel smile is an answer in of itself as he takes a step towards you, it wouldn’t be hard to make you his. You take a step back, mindful of the sun’s position and your surroundings. They both creep nearer as you hold the shaking animal to you, you turn on your heel rushing through the woods. They were fast and well trained however no one knew these woods like you did. 

It was as if you knew of every fallen leaf or broken branch as you rushed through the deep green leaves. Dodging low branches that they hit face first, holes they tripped in and even a dead deer carcass that you bound in a single leap. You hear a crash and one of them gag as your feet urge you forward, looking over your shoulder. 

That is until your run into something so solid you fall right onto your ass, the small animal gives a whimper on your lap. 

“I could have sworn…” The sound of rushing water swallows up the rest of your thought as you look up to what you’ve run into. Wholly expecting a tree stood a man, with deep garnet hair and a sharp toothed smile. Immediately your blood turns cold, the air about him seeming other worldly as the forest quiets and slows in his presence. 

“Ah, are you alright?” He asks, extending his hand to you, gingerly you take it. His calloused hand is warm and strong as he lifts you to your feet, ruby eyes staring at the bundle in your hand.

“May I?” Hesitantly you pass the bundle, he frowns at its contents before setting the small fox on the ground, waving his fingers to heal its wound. The fox looks at the healer, seemingly giving him a small bow before rushing back into the safety of the brush. 

“The fox told me what you did. Thank you.” His smile is blinding and dazzling. He offers you a single white flower, the amethyst stripe up the middle causes your stomach to tighten.

“Do you always give out good fortune?” You ask quietly, turning the wild iris over in your hand. He laughs, if he recognizes you he does not show it but you are sure this is the man who gave you an abundance of “good fortune” years ago. Your scar burns from the thought. Your mother did tell you stories of the Gods playing cruel jokes. 

But was Kirishima truly a maleficent God? 

You bit your lower lip. A warm hand cups your chin, a soft smile on his face as he turns your left side to you. 

“Do I know you dear heart?” His voice is soft, eyes half mast almost lazily gazing upon your features. You tuck the iris in your ear and it seems to jog his memory. 

“Little flower!” His voice becomes larger, sharper, as his thumb swipes over the deep fissure on your cheek “What happened?!" 

His touch is comforting but not enough you wish to relive the trauma again. 

"I wish not to speak about it.” Your eyes catch the position of the sun. Gently you step from his soft grip.

“I must return home for dinner before I cause my mother to worry.” You bow formally, presenting the flower “Thank you Kamisama but I cannot accept your blessing." 

You stand like that long enough your back begins to hurt causing a deep fear to flow through your veins.

Was he angry that you dared to reject him? 

Your feet burn with the urge to run but you dismiss it, finally his large fingers grasps at the small stem holding the rarity in his hands. Eyes roving over you, you peek up to check his gaze and while he looks level headed to you, you decide to leave before you find out if he isn’t. 

He stares after you, eyes curious and yet not surprised as to how he could have forgotten about someone as remarkable as you. 

But how could he remember? 

You are nothing more than a mere mortal and you were a child at that. A blip, a hazy day dream even, in his infinite lifetime. 

So what interest would he have in a life so fleeting that should he rouse from a nap he would be meeting your great grandchildren who could remember nothing more about you than your name? 

And yet when he looked at you now, as a full grown woman, something bloomed in his chest. Your scar adding to your mystic beauty, especially after what the fox had told him.  

His ruby eyes return to the flower as he ponders over your question in his head. 

A week or so passes, as you’re sure to avoid the Mountain God. Still fearing he may be angered by your rejection. 

But you cannot stay from the depths of the forest long. Staring down at your reflection in the water you sigh, running your hand through the cool water debating if you will bathe in one of the many hot springs tonight. A scurrying in the bush pulls your attention to the here and now. Muscles rigid as you worry it will be an encounter with the heir and his goon, shimmering orange rushes from the brush easing your mind. 

"Ah hello friend!” You call and the fox stops in its tracks, task or hunt at hand long forgotten, “Did His healing power work?" 

You cannot help the glee in your voice as you see your friendly fox sit near your feet, it swishes its tail and just like that another seems to appear. Wagging like an opposing pendulum beside the other. 

"You have two tails now, oh” You give a sly smile, “Are you here to steal my liver?" 

The kitsune chuckles at your joke, his little laugh echoing in the clearing. The haunting sound brings an odd comfort to you as he tilts his head as if someone is whispering to him. He gives a small nod before approaching, setting something in your lap that his black lips were not holding before. 

A note of sorts and the flower he attempted to offer you earlier. The note reads in glowing golden red hue,

"Let’s start over again. Tea by the blue moon wild flowers at midnight.”

You sigh deeply, placing the card and flower deep in your tattered kimono with the thought of not showing up.  Why would a God want tea with you? You who wears a scarred face and milky white eye. You give the kitsune a soft pat before standing, brushing the dirt from your deep brown kimono. 

You spend the rest of the day as you told your mother you would, picking flowers to both practice arranging and drying for the upcoming festival. There were only a few weeks left and you had done zero practicing as you has promised. Your mother claimed this would help earn your keep with the village but you were sure that was more for her peace of mind than the truth. 

With your basket heavy with the finest of flowers you head towards home, careful to avoid the path you last saw the God on.

And anytime you had thought you caught wind of his intoxicating smell of soft musk, pine and the biting threat of snow you turned on your heel as quickly and quietly as humanly possible, ignoring the gemstone gaze that bore into your back. 

After a small dinner with your mother and hours of twisting flower streams to make crowns of, you finally get the chance to lie down to sleep. 

But sleep doesn’t come, instead you’re wide awake as the moon leaks in the through the small cracks in the walls. Dust dancing on the low light as you sigh as if you were in love. 

Deep, unsatisfied and often. 

The invitation burns in the folds of your kimono and suddenly you are filled with action. Gently you rise, fumbling with your hair as best you can before you mumble curses to yourself. Placing a practice crown on your head and rouging your lips with the remnants of berries before you set out into the darkness. 

Your feet seem to guide you on your own as you weave through the trees. Fireflies lazily floating in the air as crickets scream their symphonies at your feet. Finally you come across the mostly hidden spot.

Hesitantly you step into the clearing, blue moon flowers glitter in the light of the quarter moon as if sprinkled with stardust. Their silver sheen invites you in further as a wind sweeps through the patch. Your eyes rove over as you look for the Mountain God. When your search comes up empty you feel your heart free fall into your stomach. Heated foolishness creeps into your throat and cheeks. 

Why would a God invite a mortal? 

Blinking away hurt tears you turn briskly, stopping yourself from running from the clearing incase he is watching for the sake of his cruel joke. 

That is until a deep voice rings out, vibrating the very bones in your body with a comforting hum.

“Little flower, Are we not having tea?” His tone is innocent and when you turn around with half a mind to fuss you see it. A beautiful hand woven rug that holds a low tea table, atop the dark wood sits finary. Foods, desserts and tea ware that would make the emperor jade green with envy. 

“This is…” You whisper but he reaches his hand towards you, gently guiding you to a plush cushion, his strong hand wrapped steadfast around yours. He waits until you are seated comfortably before he sits close to you. 

Almost too close, his shoulder could easily brush against yours in movement and it does as it takes you an eon to realize what exactly he is doing. 

Preparing the tea. Immediately your stomach flips as shaking hands fumble to stop him, grabbing onto his large hands with a fervor unmatched. A quizzical look before a sly smirk paints his handsome features. 

“A..a..a God should not be serving a m..mortal tea.” You trip over your words feeling self conscious as your palms feel is if they are sweating. Shame radiates through your chest as if a hot rod were shoved through your heart. 

“Then let us not be a God and a mortal.” He smiles, lips curving upward gently as his shining teeth glint in the low light. You should be scared, frightened that you may have insulted him or worse yet earned the infamous Wrath of the Mountain God. 

But you aren’t, if anything you’re on the complete opposite of the spectrum as the breeze shifts his scent closer to you. The forest alive at night, the sharp smell of snow mingling with the gentle fragrance of bloomed flowers. 

Suddenly you feel dizzy and his next words do not help. 

“Let us be more.” Again you feel the comforting hum in your chest, you decide now is a good time to let go of his hands. 

He sets the tea before you, again you are faced with a pitiful reflection. You blow on the green liquid disrupting the steam and with it your image. It is quiet save the sounds of late night summer although it is not uncomfortable silence that passes over the hours between the two of you. It is easy as the two of you sip your tea and for a moment you think you’ve forgotten the sin you’re committing by forgetting who he really is. Occasionally the two of you would share a laugh, his shoulder brushing against yours before he comes closer, close enough your forearms touch as they rest against the table. His skin feels warm and smooth like a rock baking in the sun, his smile dazzling as his face seems to get closer. His finger hooks into your palm, lazily tracing the lines as if they were an old and familiar map. 

“Why do you love the mountain forest so much?” His voice is so close you feel breath fan your cheek. Butterflies take rapid flight in your stomach. 

Was it that obvious? I guess it would be with how much of your life you spent within these thick trees. 

“There is so much to love in this place of solace. Every new clearing brings something of wonder. A waterfall, a field of flowers, a hot spring to soak your aching bones. Even just a small fawn grazing on the seeds the trees and flowers offer is more beauty than I can imagine." 

His fingers stop, leaving an odd tingling sensation causing your nerves to stand on edge. Attempting to reach towards the soft touch once more. Kirishima looks to the moon and how it begins to set. 

"Another day little flower.” He whispers, voice honeyed yet sharp as you find yourself standing on the edge of the woods, staring at your small home. You turn in a full circle and see no sign of the God causing your heart to grow heavy. Gripping at your chest as you make your way back towards your home, you thought maybe he didn’t like your answer. Maybe he read your honesty as a poor attempt of flattery. 

What you don’t know is that he liked your answer a little too much.  

It isn’t long before you find yourself in the same patch of flowers at a questionable hour sitting beside Kamisama himself. You swallow thickly, nails biting into your palm as again he pours your tea. 

Is this right? Would your mother approve?

You were sure she wouldn’t, and not from your lack of manners but seeing the very man she so feared and having tea with him nonetheless.

“Something troubling you my blossom?” Flustered over his familiarity you stammer out a response.

“Just…just thinking.” You offer a shy smile as he returns a wolfish grin, you do not know that he can hear just how fast your heart is beating. 

“Hmmm.” The hum rumbles in your own chest and large bottle flies take flight in your stomach. He brushes some hair out of your face so he can better see it. He smiles softly. 

“I’ve been curious about why you are collecting so many flowers lately.” Rigid beneath his touch you fear you have angered him but it won’t be long before you realize just how infatuated he is with you. 

“A festival for you Kirishima, Kamisama of the Mountain.” He lets his fingers play and twist in your hair. You try not to look away. 

“You’ll be the guest of honor then?” His fingers brush down your heated cheeks. 

Despite the intimacy of both his touch and proximity you give a loud laugh. Eyes looking at a blurred green version of yourself in your cup. 

“No, I’m sure I could never be favored.” At least not by the villagers. 

But you seemed to be favored by the Gods. You swallow thickly, of all the talk and importance of the festivals your mother never let you attend, so you are unsure what happens. 

While you’re left home alone you could hear the loud beats of the drum, their feet hitting against the stone of the square and their joyous singing. 

Sometimes you think you hear a scream. 

But you cannot reflect on it long as a pair of soft lips press against your cheek. Then when you do not move they graze along your jawline before finding their way to your pulse. You give a small gasp and when he gives a small suck you a raspy moan.  He growls against your throat, a sudden heat grows between your legs and you swallow desire whole. 

He feels how tense you have become and eases up from your throat. Guiding you by your chin so you may face him before he steals away your first kiss. 

Not that you would have given it to anyone else. 

The next month is a game of cat and mouse. Both of you eagerly seeking the other out, yet making it seem as if it were a mere accidently. All the while a now three tailed fox smiles knowingly.  It’s a blur of tea, mountain top views over valleys, and deep passionate kissing. 

But this last encounter truly was by pure chance for both parties. 

The pungent smell of sulfur tickles your nose, although this is the least offending spring. Its water a lovely milky blue that you’ve decorated with a few left over flowers heads. You sigh as you sink deeper into the borderline scalding water being sure to soak your aching hands and feet. 

You’re thankful that the rushing water settles here in this cluster of rocks despite the small current that carries it away just a few feet down. A sigh leaves your body, eyes lingering to the light of the full moon before they flutter close. Your guard completely down as you know no one is going to be wandering around these woods. 

It is the night of the festival after all. 

And no one was sure as hell gonna be out looking for you.  

Not even Kamisama as you were sure he would oversee the festival, it was held in his name was it not? 

Sleep threatens to pull you beneath its veil so much so you do not hear the footsteps that approach.  

He steps closer to the spot of his favorite spring and when he sees your head titling back onto the rocks, a fine blush blooms on his cheeks. 

“My little hana?” His voice is soft yet concerned, startling you. The water splashes around as you turn to face him. 

If you were flustered before you’re beyond that now. He has his back to you as he gives your privacy, face slightly turned but his eyes are not overlooking his shoulder. Your eyes widen as they take in His beauty. His hair tied up in a messy bun, winking blacks and deep reds beneath the moonlight. His broad shoulders exposed, eyes trailing down his sculpted back to see his bare buttocks. Strong, thick legs holding up this God of a man.  

Well he was a God wasn’t he? 

“Are you alright, lovely blossom? I didn’t know you’d be here I can come ba…" 

"No. No no!” You interrupt, “I…" 

It’s silent for a moment, lust moves your lips. 

"I wouldn’t mind the company.” Your voice is barely heard over the swirling, rushing water. 

But the smirk on his soft lips tells you that he had heard you.  And he will never forget the invitation. 

He turns to join you, your eyes following down the trail of his abs to his pointed V, you do not allow your eyes to travel further south and force them to his face. His glowing eyes bright, two shining rubies lighting up the night. He sinks into the water across from you, letting his arms spread and rest on the rocks. 

You release the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Sinking into the water as you realize just how exposed you are.  The weight of his gaze is doing something to you. 

He keeps his eyes locked on yours, the heat of the spring makes you a bit dizzy and you’re beginning to wonder if it is his merlot eyes that have you on cloud nine. 

That have you so bold. Bold enough you float yourself beside him, right into the crook of his arm. He gently slides it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest. 

“How was your day my sweet?” His voice is soothing but you’d rather not recount your day or the number of flowers you set just right. 

“Boring. Yours Kirishima?” He smiles as you use his name.

“Same.” He places a chaste kiss to your damp hair line. It leaves you wanting more. 

“A..again please?” He goes to kiss your forehead again but you tilt your face upward. He smiles, putting his hand at the nape of your neck. Leaning in impossibly slow holding your gaze. His look makes you impossibly higher and then his kisses your lips.

It is soft, it is slow, but each movement of his lips become more feverish, more bold. Like a cracked dam after a rain far too heavy, it is going to burst. 

And it does. 

Your mouth openes to him and he slides his tongue between your teeth, swirling and tasting your earthly, mortal form. You moan into the kiss, giving him more entrance, your hands clawing at his hair, his back while his hands follow your curves. Running up and down your sides, pinching at your nipples turning you into putty in his hands.  You do not resist, you would never deny him and you’re sure he would never take. 

He does nothing more than light exploring, commiting your skin to memory. You let out another moan, this one louder than before enticing his primal needs. As his tongue slides over yours his hand snakes to your lower back, pulling you into his lap.  

You feel his harden asset resting close to your throbbing sex. 

Would…would it be okay to bed a God? For a mortal to be touched by hands that can create and destroy in a matter of nanoseconds? 

Suddenly you feel too hot, too flustered, too high as the world spins rapidly on its axis. You push back, gasping for air and immediately his lust is replaced with concern. He sees tears forming in your eyes, signs of some internal battle. 

It reminds him of when he pours you a cup of tea but tenfold. He looks up at you, one hand traces down your spine before his other wipes away your tears. 

“Blossom for me when you’re ready not when I want you, my little flower.” His voice is soft, reassuring, causing you to cry more. His fingers gently trace your scar, follow your spine, and continue to wipe away your tears when needed. 

You nod helplessly, removing yourself from his irresistible lap, he pulls you to cuddle. A soft kiss to your hairline. The moon begins to climb higher in the sky and although your mother will not be home for some time, you still need to beat her home. Maybe he can read minds as he says. 

“Let’s meet later tonight? Our usual time after your mother has returned home?” You nod against his chest, slowly stand. He supports your weight as he holds onto your hand as you ease out of the comforting water. 

You look for your brown kimono but with every second you cannot find it panic seizes your bones. 

“M…my kimono. I…I can’t find it!” You realize you may have misplaced it or worse yet placed it too close to the water. 

Oh Kami did it get washed away? 

“Flower, love. It is fine. I can help.” He snaps his fingers and you’re adorning the most stunning kimono you’ve ever seen. More so than what any painting of any God and Goddess meeting you’ve ever seen.  You twirl in the ombre kimono. It starts out black, like a moonless night at the top before lightening until it is put glowing starlight at your ankles. 

“Its gorgeous. But it is too much." 

"Nothing is too much for you.” He stands, a kimono appears on his body as well, ombre again, black at his shoulders until it is blood red at his ankles. The bottom reminds you of the first time you had seen him when you were little. When he saved your life, a halo of setting sun emphasizing his status. 

“We will meet again?"  You nod and he cannot bring himself to say he is going to the annual meeting of the Gods because if he did, with you wearing this star woven kimono, he would whisk you away with him. 

"Until we meet again." 

With the sound of the window fluttering through the trees you find yourself on the fringes of the woods, just outside your home. 

Gingerly you step into the field of flowers, slowly walking towards your house as you relive the time you most felt alive. 

His lips, his hands, his body pressed against yours.

So caught up in your daydream, in your promise of later tonight, you do not see the eyes lying in wait. 

Those prying eyes take note of your kimono and how it shimmers and shines with an otherworldly glow as you slip into your home. 

It isn’t long before you hear a string of screaming and see a set of lights coming your way, close enough you can make out silhouettes and what the woman is screaming.

"SHE IS UNFAVORED! LOOK AT HER SCAR SHE IS TAINTED BEAUTY!” You realize quickly that is the wails of your mother. 

Frantically you try to strip yourself of your kimono but a large hand strips away the door. Your faces are illuminated from the soft glow by your ankles making it clear to see a set of hard steely eyes with hurt but never regret as they should. 

“Just like I said. A blessed kimono.” Kenji’s voice is as hard as his eyes as his father peers in, he smiles with delight.

“We are surely saved from the drought now. Kenji bring her to the festival." 

"No.” Your voice is small, a foreboding dread feeds your panic as your mother cries, restrained by Kenji’s goons. You step back but he lunges for you, squeezing you so tightly you cannot breath. 

The walk to the center seems like ages as you kick and scream, crying out for Kirishima. 

“Yes call for our God. He will be happy to receive his gift, time is running out.” The elder speaks. You elbow Kenji square in the face, everyone panics as you begin to run. Kenji catches you again.  The moon hands high over head, perfectly in the middle of the sky. 

“There is no time left. Let’s do it now!” Kenji’s goon from before shouts, sending the crowd into a boisterous agreement. 

Kenji withdraws his knife, both of your struggling for power. He leans in close, nose touching yours as the smell of copper and ash cling to his skin. 

“You should have just stayed in your place ugly. Should’ve let me have my way.” He slices at you and for a second time a blade marrs your skin. 

He is supposed to make this quick for you, one quick motion against your throat. Instead he lets the blade sink deeper, carve harder until his is splatter in your life’s nectar. Only you and your mother cry out. The rest of them pray and sing. 

Kenji picks you up and tosses you into the brush of the woods. 

“Have her now Kamisama and bless us with rain!” He speaks as if he is the current elder. Grey eyes cold as they look down at you.  They retreat to their usual planned activities, dragging your lost mother with them to drink to their heart’s content. To make her watch what an honor it was for her child to have been chosen. 

It hurts, Kami it hurts as you drag yourself through the woods. Briars tangle around your quickly growing limp limbs as you pull yourself deeper. 

“Kiri…Kirishima!” Your once loud screams turn into hardly more than whispers. But that shouldn’t matter. He should still hear you shouldn’t he? 

Was this not his domain? He can hear every rustling leaf, every snap of a twig, surely he could hear the pained cries of his lover.

No, no you shouldn’t call yourself that, you were not his lover, you were just favored by him. 

And isn’t that always what you wanted? To be desired? Loved? 

This was a festival for Kirishima himself so why did you think any different? 

And why do you still call out his name? 

Your vision blurs in purplish blues and blacks as you fade in and out, a soft sweet scent is tainted with stinging copper. You cough and more dark liquid sputters from your lips. 

It reminds you of his eyes. 

Kitsune comes into the clearing helping frantically. But you smile as you notice his fourth tail. 

“At least I will not die alone…” You breathe as the fox attempts to lick at your wounds, “Why, why is he so cruel?" 

Fat tears fall down your cheeks and the fox panics further. He opens his mouth, his voice comes out gravely and close to a growl without the animosity.

"Master does not know of this, master would never allow this!” He laps at your blood in a desperate attempt to heal you with what little grace he has been bestowed. 

But it doesn’t matter as your world fades to black. 

Kirishima steps through the portal near the top of the mountain to be met with a horrid sight, not realizing it could be worse than that. Kitsune’s normal Auburn fur is tainted a sticky black substance, Kirishima gets a closer look causing his blood to run cold. 

He appears in the field of flowers, following the trail you left as a wispy form of you stands through your drained body. 

“No.” Quiet before deafening loud, birds and animals flee away from him, “NO!" 

The shades circle the clearing, too afraid to enter but too hungry to leave. 

Kirishima shakily grabs onto your glowing hands, tears fall down your cheeks. 

"I…I…” Tears prick his eyes, rage washes over his features, “Who?" 

Your spirit cannot speak as you are still tethered to your fast cooling body. He follows the direction of your eyes, music and laughing become louder further angering him. A thought occurs to him, he reaches for the small golden chain that is at your spiritual ankle connecting you to your real body, he could keep you here, he could….but before he can break your life’s chain a mist of black appears. 

"You know you cannot do that.” From within the mist comes a man with the head of a raven or a tengu, Kirishima is not sure. All he knows is that he loathes to see Death come too close to the things he loves. 

“But.." 

"Look around you Kirishima-kun. You’ve tried countless times to keep mortals before and what becomes of them? Shades, unwavering, thoughtless hungry shades as I’ve told you. Their spirits are so far corrupted they could never return to the cycle.” Death speaks the truth but it does not stop the anguish that sweeps through his body. 

He cannot allow it just yet. He watches as your golden chain is unhooked, you walk backwards, keeping your eyes on your God as Death guides you. 

“Until we meet again.” It is a whisper on the wind, a rustle in the leaves, a huff of a nearby fawn and babbling of the hot spring. He nods, eyes glued to you as you fade away into the black mist. 

He breathes deeply as he picks you up, cradling your cold body to his hard chest. He walks gingerly with you as if he feared he would wake you, he only had on destination in mind. It does not take long before he is walking towards the center of the small town, houses darkened as the square is full of life. The smell of wine and food waft the cool air. 

This only fuels his intentions. 

He stands on the fringe of the crowd and it only takes a blink or two before the roaring party dies to deafening silence. People falling to their knees, their foreheads pressed into the bloodied bricks. 

“K..Kamisama Kirishima, had we known you would grace…" 

"SILENCE!” His voice shakes the very foundations of the homes, the shingles clinking in the wind. The trees quiver in his presence as the Earth seems to roar beneath his feet. His eyes are hard and dark like raw diamonds as he looks over their merriment shredding them with his gaze alone. The moon above suddenly glows red as if washed over with your blood, illuminating him in an ominous tone. The hue paints the village in eerie light as it fully bares witness to the wrath of the mountain God.  

“Is this how you honor me?” A rhetorical question as he wonders how long this had been going on, the shades most likely and happily, eating the remains before Kirishima could have ever found out. He shakes, unable to reign in his rage. 

“Look at her.” Three words, three words has well over fifty people shivering. Eyes barely coming up to look at the limp woman in his hands, skin already graying. Both eyes now clouded over and lips stained a peculiar red. Their eyes shift to the God they worship, the one they had been giving their most beautiful women too. 

He holds eye contact with each and every one of them for a moment, staring into their black souls with a malice that could maim. He spies your mother, his lip snarls as he thinks of your scar. 

He begins to wonder if this is why she had done it. He finds the elder, the one who wears the fine kimono. One of the few garments that is not tattered, dirtied or sullied red. He grinds his teeth. 

“May you never forget this moment in all of your reincarnations. May you never forget her face and may you always feel an inkling of what I’ve felt.” The people weep, not for their own lives but from the feeling of the God’s heart overflowing in them despite him never shedding a tear. They do not ask forgiveness. 

They cannot ask for forgiveness. Just as he sealed your fate all those years ago, he is sealing theirs now. With a stomp of his foot the Earth rumbles, slowly opening up into a jagged mawl. People scream as they reach for one another, grasping onto nothing. Only your mother waits for death silently. Her own tears streaming down her face as she etches into her last moments the sight of her failure. Of you taken from the world too soon. 

The village is swallowed whole and now that it is over, he is still unhappy. The void in his cheat is far deeper than the Earthy chasm before him. He cries out in anguish pulling you impossibly closer. A fissure runs through the ground, deep and fast through the next village and the one after that.

In a loud puff of smoke a man appears beside the mountain God, he pulls down his black hood and his hair shines gold in the moonlight. His eyes like molten lava gleam with destructive glee. The Earth threatens to crumble beneath the new God’s feet, the dark chasm glows a bright hot red in his presence. 

“No one ever strikes your ire.” His voice is dark yet excited, “And never enough to summon me. Need some pointers from the God of Destruction himself shitty hair?”

“Bakugou, I…” The mountainous man’s voice cracks, causing his friend’s brow to furrow. Bakugou takes in the sight of you withered in hands through ghastly means. Of the decimation and the level of it. Reaching over to another village and possibly the next two. This level of destruction would get the Mountain God into a lot of trouble but it was evident he did not care. Bakugou gives his back to the sight and finally speaks, lying a warm hand on his friend’s broad shoulder.

“If anyone asks, I destroyed the villages.” Molten eyes watch tears fall onto you and the ground beneath his friend’s feet. The golden haired man sighs, gently taking you from the arms of his friend who tries to desperately hold on to what is left of you. 

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” A rare comfort from his companion, he takes your small frame and turns. He is going to gently lie you in the cooling Earth. A destruction God destroys in order for something new to be created. He plans to give his only friend a blessed grave for you so he can visit until, what Bakugou hopes but heavily doubts, Kirishima forgets. 

“W..wait. wait. She needs…” His voice shatters as with shaking fingers he creates the very thing he had intended for you to have. Good fortune in the shape of deities or wild irises, circling one another to be a stunning crown. Instead of white they glow gold as he sets it atop your crown. Kirishima squeezes your limp hand a final time before letting you go. Bakugou breathes deeply as he works, pulling the ground back together with sheer force as the lava recedes. He does so until the two shelves barely meet, a rich bed of soil lies before his feet. Gently he lies you in the bed of dirt. 

“Ashes to ashes.” Your body ignites from within, glowing in a golden flame until there is nothing left but dust on the wind and the golden flower crown. Bakugou pulls the dirt over your remains.

Kirishima falls to his knees, pressing his hand into the Earth, fearful he will forget a mortal like you, a mere blip in his infinite lifetime. The ground beneath him bursts and blooms in great color. All deep reds, golden yellows and blinding whites for miles. 

“I will always love you my little flower." 

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The summer breeze feels warm as it rouses the scent of rain and the sound of chimes. You close your eyes and day dream of something long forgotten, of stories retold from an old book of legend you never read. Nervousness thrums through your veins as you stand beside your ash blonde friend, patiently waiting for the third party to arrive. The impatient man growls beside you as he spots someone he recognizes behind you. 

"Oi shitty hair hurry up! Iris and I have been waiting here all damn morning!” Bakugou shouts, using your hero name. You turn to see your new patrol partner for future missions. The sun illuminates behind him, almost giving him a heavenly glow and you realize that there is something odd about the man who approaches you. His long flowing garnet hair is unruly in the wind, shining a red so deep in hue you first mistake it for black. His smile is sharp toothed and easy, causing a swarm of butterflies to take flight in your stomach. With your heart hammering out of your chest you cannot shake the feeling that something seems off about him. It is both other worldly and familiar, you feel as if his name sits on the tip of your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as his glowing ruby eyes drink you in.  He sees a faint mark traveling through your left eye as if it were a fading scar, maybe it was something you could not shake from a past long forgotten. His heart hammers in his chest as he speaks, your reaction to his next words will tell him what he needs to know. 

“Hello my little flower, it seems we meet again.”

[hpalways]

Chef’s Kiss || Xiao

[Disclaimer !! I wrote this oneshot before Xiao’s voicelines were available, so he may appear ooc]

LIFE in the kitchen was anything but peaceful. Not only were you an assistant to the hard-headed chef at the Wangshu Inn, but the cooking fumes continuously made you hungry, causing your stomach to growl -- much to your embarrassment. Running around for errands that the grumpy man would order you to do, it was exhausting. You were beginning to wonder if this was worth it, for a measly experience that may not even be of benefit to your future. 

The only person that kept you from from going insane was a man named Xiao. At first, you were wary of him, because he was reserved and quite mean, spewing unnecessary insults at you... but overtime, the two of you became friends. Well, he was still pretty mean, but you didn't expect different, considering he was an Adeptus. You knew that he must've went through a lot in his own life, so it was understandable.

He had a soft spot for food, especially for his favorite dish: almond tofu. He ordered this often and because you were a cook, you were forced to make it over and over. By now, you were sure you were a professional at it. So on this dandy, fine day, you whipped up a bowl of almond tofu and climbed up a few stairs up the inn. Reaching the little nook where the Adeptus liked to spend his time at, you smiled when you indeed saw him there. His back was turned on you, while he watched the large view of Liyue.

Black-teal hair waving along the winds, he whirled around and sharp, amber eyes met you. Green tattoos lined the side of his arm, making him look all the more intimidating. He donned his usual outfit of a white sleeveless shirt, dark purple pants, and boots. He wore jewelry too, but in your opinion, they never shined as bright as his gaze. His face was blank at the sight of you, but you knew him well enough to see that he was... slightly happy to see you. It was mainly for the food, but surely he enjoyed your company too. He had to. 

"You're finally here," he said, crossing his arms across his chest. "You're late."

You rolled your eyes and handed him the dish anyway, to which he took begrudgingly. "You know I have other things to tend to, right? I'm not the one lazing around here all the time," you teased. 

Blush colored his pale skin and he looked away in embarrassment. He dug into the food and began to scarf it down. Satisfied with his reaction to your creation, you stayed there with him, leaning your elbows on the edge of the wooden balcony. The glowing sun was high in the sky and the weather was lovely today. Blue and denounced of any clouds, the horizons seemed infinite. The lands were the same way, textured of roads and grasslands, even tall mountains in the distance. And from way up here, the people down below were smidges of moving dots. They were so small -- sometimes it would lead you to think that only you and Xiao existed. 

No wonder he loved this little hideout so much. 

"So, how did you like the food?" you asked him, seeing as he was done with it.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It was decent," he said, despite how otherwise it seemed. 

"I put my blood, sweat, and tears and all you say is it was decent?" you gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. Knowing exactly what you were doing, he sent daggers toward your way. If looks could kill, it would be this -- it would honestly scare the shit out of anyone else, but unfortunately, you weren't just anyone else. Teasing him was your favorite hobby here... and thus, the reason why you were staying sane living at the Wangshu Inn. 

"Shut up," he snapped at you. "It's a compliment."

Chuckling, you grabbed the empty plate from him. "I'll take your word for it then. Hm, I should get back to work now. Boss will have my head if he sees me lingering around any longer."

You spun around and began walking into the inn. However, before you could fully step inside, a warm hand grasped the wrist of your arm. Heart fluttering inside you, you quickly chided mentally to yourself. It would do you no good to fall for the Conqueror of Demons. Being pulled to face him again, you raise your brows in confusion, masking the perplexing emotions inside of you. 

Once he had your attention, he immediately let go of your arm. Scratching his head, his lips twitched as he carefully chose his next words. Surprise filled your features; was he... nervous? This was new to see with your own pair of eyes. "Before you head back to work... I have something for you."

Quickly unclipping a necklace around his neck, it was one you had never seen until now. It was hidden beneath his black collar, silver and thin, yet was captivating to the eye. He held it with his gloved fingers, having it dangle in the air for a few moments. "I saw this while I was away on business..." he explained, still unable to look at you. "I was reminded of you and decided to get it."

A lump grew in your throat and your lips parted in disbelief. Dammit, his actions... they made it so hard for you to resist him. Why would he do this? This was unlike him. He neared you, silently draping the delicate necklace around yourself. His usual stiff face was soft and the stare he gave you was enough to give you a heart attack. Attentive on the clasp at the ends, he hooked it around and fixed it, having the beautiful pendent hanging on your chest. 

"I can't believe..." you murmured, glancing down at the gold details. "Thank you so much. You shouldn't have though. I don't deserve to wear something so expensive."

"You do," he argued, his gaze growing hard. 

"Okay then," you relented, despite still doubtful. "I seriously do love it though!"

Fuck it, you couldn't restrain the desire to do this anymore. You had been wanting to do this since the day you saw his hues glinted at the taste of your food. He had opened up to you more than he did to anyone else -- you were always happy to be there for him. You only hoped to continue to be there for him. 

Tilting your face closer to his, your lips brushed against smooth, soft skin. It was as soft as a baby's and so did the dark teal strand of hair that tickled your forehead. Leaning away again, you were out of breath and in shock. His face was flamed up crimson, making him look adorable. Your face was just as warm and you were slightly embarrassed for doing something so drastic. 

"You... you..." he trailed off, at a lost for words for once in his life. Under his breath, he murmured, "Stupid chef."

"I can hear that, you know," you pointed out with a scowl. His words were quite harsh, but the way he was acting meant that he did not mind the kiss. For that, you were satisfied enough. "I'll cherish this, I promise! See you soon, Xiao."

You weren't getting your heart broken just yet.

[kuroo-shitsurou]

Shooting Stars (Childe x Fem!Reader)

note: honestly, no one asked for this. this is obviously self-indulgent, but god FUCK do i love that ginger fatui man so much.

word count: 2.6k

"Careful now."

Childe's voice was calming, much like the gust of wind that blew past your hair. You saw his hand in front of you and you gladly grasped it, heart racing at the idea of falling to your death. The wind was calm and the air was refreshing, but there was nothing light about the pit in your stomach screaming at you to just carefully glide back down to the foot of the mountain you two were climbing.

"You aren't going to die, dear." He laughed, amused at the sight of your face.

"And what if I do? Childe, this isn't funny!" Your knees were planted firmly on one of the floating rocks just above Qingyun Peak. You grimaced at how the moss scraped against your bare knees, but you felt paralyzed with fear at the thought of falling because you knew better than to trust your clumsy nature.

"I'm not letting you fall. Trust me!" The genuine concern and reassurance in his voice was masked with his charming playfulness, and you couldn't help but sigh and stand up to follow him up to the floating island up ahead.

Childe requested to occupy your entire day earlier that morning, saying something about him showing you a beautiful sight that's sure to take your breath away. You agreed, entertaining his idea of a beautiful sight. After sparring with him in the golden house, eating a sumptuous lunch at Wanmin Restaurant, then sparring with him again, you two headed over to Qingyun Peak. The sun was about to set, and your eyes were mesmerized by how the purple hues above your head covered the entirety of Liyue.

The golden hour was nearly over, and here you were, scared out of your mind, with Childe leading you up a path of floating rock chunks that you were sure would collapse if two of you stepped on one at the same time. However, much to your surprise, they didn't.

"I've got you, okay?" Your companion's voice rang in your ears, and you didn't notice that he stepped down from his current platform to take his rightful place beside you. His right hand was still holding yours, and he used his free hand to rub gentle circles on your lower back to comfort you. You breathed in his scent- a mix of dried sweat and blood with a hint of his perfume clinging to the fabric of his collar. It was a familiar scent, something that soothed you despite being thousands of feet in the air with no stable architecture to calm your nerves. You just had to trust that the Adepti architectures knew what they were doing when they built this pavilion.

"Okay," You whispered to him.

Surprisingly, the climb was easier than you initially expected. It did help that Childe was almost carrying you the rest of the way, but leaning into him was inevitable and unavoidable. It wasn't because you wanted to be buried deeper into his chest while he held you close to the point that the exposed skin on your lower back was starting to burn because his clothed fingers were just lingering there. No, definitely not that. You were simply prioritizing your safety.

"See? It wasn't that hard, right?"

"You could have told me that we'd be heading to the pavilion. I could have mentally prepared myself for the climb."

"Mentally prepare? I'm quite sure that clinging onto me the whole time put you at ease, hm?" You wanted to wipe the smug grin off his pretty face.

"Shut up before I make you, fatui."

He let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back and clutching his sides.

"You're honestly too adorable for your own good." He stepped closer and moved the hair out of your face as you felt another strong breeze blow by.

"I said shut it!" You felt a rush of heat spread across your cheeks as his eyes scanned your flustered figure.

"Here, take a seat." He motioned to the stone seat facing the sunset. "I did tell you that I'd show you a beautiful sight tonight."

"I trust your taste, so it better be worth it."

"When have I ever lied to you?"

You shot him a look. As you were about to open your mouth to speak, he quickly interjected with a defeated sigh.

"Don't even answer that." You could only chuckle as he sat down beside you, inching closer and closer until your shoulders were brushing against each other. This wasn't really the first time that you and him have been this close with each other.

You and Childe have a... complex relationship, simply put. It's not like you were dating, but the way he treated you- with respect, with care, with love; You wanted to melt in his arms as easily as you could fight him with your sword. You weren't really sure if Childe had romantic feelings for you because he never really talked about it, but you could only go off on his actions, and they directed to the one conclusion that he did have feelings for you.

However, as your former partner in research, Albedo, once said, "Do not assume unless stated otherwise. Logic and officiality back facts as much as they debunk assumptions." In reality, it was so easy to understand. Theoretically, it was easier. However, now that you were there in that position where all signs pointed to Childe having romantic feelings for you, you didn't know what to believe in.

Did you want to trust your gut instinct, or did you want to wait until Childe made it official and clear? It was a mindboggling situation for you because you also found yourself enamored by him.

Why... Why were you even enamored in the first place?

Maybe it was because you adored how he talked about his family. You could just listen to him for hours on end as he fondly tells you the tales of his adventures with Tonia, Anthon, and Teucer. It was the way that his deep cerulean eyes lit up whenever you asked about short anecdotes about his family that he could comfortably share with you. He adored his family so much that it made you feel... jealous. Aether was your only family, and you were still on the pursuit to finding him, so you were envious of how Childe could still visit his family back in Snezhnaya if he wanted to. You? You weren't even sure if your brother was still in Teyvat.

Maybe it was how he always tended to your wounds after each time you sparred. Although Childe claims that he's nothing more than a bloodthirsty hound who wishes for nothing but power and glory, he really can't stand seeing you with an open wound or a bleeding nose. While Childe is primarily the reason behind your injuries, he'd also be the first to bring you gauzes, band-aids, and medicine from Bubu Pharmacy. You'd always be touched since he tends to you first before he paid any mind to the bruises and cuts that adorned his skin.

"Your health is my priority, comrade. After all. who else could match my skills in combat if not you? That's why you better take care of yourself, or better yet, allow me to take care of you instead." His words echoed in your head, and you blushed, realizing the possible implications of his statement.

Maybe it was his surprisingly sharp memory. Though Childe could never compare to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's Consultant, Zhongli, he would often shock you at how he remembered things so well- especially when it came to you. One time, for your birthday, he bought you a necklace with your birthstone as the main gem adorning the fabric. You only ever mentioned your birthday once, and it was at an awkward moment during Hu Tao's birthday celebration, that's why you didn't think Childe would remember it at all.

"I pay attention to you more than you think, dear. I also happen to store things in my memory bank if they're that important to me." You remembered how he laughed as he insisted on putting the necklace on for you. Your hand instinctively latched on to the beautiful gem resting on your chest.

Maybe it was the way he called for your name. Whether he said your name in a battle cry, as a greeting, or in the middle of him teasing you, you were absolutely intoxicated with the way that your name rolled off his tongue. The way the syllables just always seemed so right when it was Childe who spoke them. Often, he would call you comrade, dear, or another endearing nickname he managed to create on the fly. However, when he spoke your name, it was always magical for you.

"Happy birthday, dear _____. I hope you enjoy this present!"

"It seems as though you've defeated me today. No matter, _____. I'm sure I'll triumph over you tomorrow."

"You look lovely as always, _____. Want to spar with me?"

"_____."

"_____."

"_____."

You were snapped out of your little daze. Your name being called over and over again wasn't just a hallucination caused by your infatuation with the eleventh harbinger. He was actually calling for you.

"Hey, _____? Are you feeling okay?" You blinked a few times before you realized that his blue eyes were practically puncturing your own. They were glazed over with concern, a sign that he had been calling you for a while now.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry!" You jolted, straightening your posture. "I was just fascinated by the sky, is all. I didn't mean to startle you."

"The sky, you say? Were you really thinking of the sky? Perhaps you were thinking about me instead?" His tone was teasing, a little more relaxed now that he knew you weren't feeling ill.

"The sunset was lovely. Although I see it everyday in Liyue Harbor, viewing it from up here in the pavilion is truly sensational. Thank you, Childe." You spoke, ignoring his attempt at riling you up. Of course, you were also ignoring the fact that he hit the nail right on the head with his guess.

"You didn't deny it, girlie." His voice was like a melody in your ears, a sweet harmony that made you feel elated. Anyway, why would you deny it? You were a woman of principle, which means you detested lying. It doesn't count as lying if you neither confirmed nor denied his guess, right? Right, keep telling yourself that.

"Don't flatter yourself." Your curt reply was met by another laugh.

"It should be anytime now," His words met the wind and your unknowing ears.

"What is?"

"Let's just wait for a few moments. I took you up here to see something more than just the sunset, after all." He gave you a wink, to which you just huffed and turned your crimson face.

A few moments passed, and Childe was already bouncing his leg up and down; Something you knew he only did when he was anxious or frustrated about something.

"Is something the matter?" You asked, watching his face grimace.

"Ah, perhaps my predictions were wrong." He stood up to stretch. "We were supposed to see something more than just the sunset, but perhaps Celestia just didn't want our little date to go as smoothly as I initially planned."

Hang on.

Date?

This was a date?

Your heart was racing and your mind began to fill itself with unanswered questions, but Childe knew better than to keep you waiting more than you already were.

"Hey, darling?" Your stomach dropped at the use of this nickname. "Do me a favor. Focus on the sky and don't look away until I say so."

You gave him a nod, unable to form the words that would suffice as a comprehensible sentence. He had you tongue-tied with just a simple nickname.

He walked away from where you were seated, just a few paces to your right and a couple of steps back. He was far enough to the point where you couldn't see him in your peripheral, but close enough for you to hear the jiggling of the adornments and chains on his clothes. You knew that sound even if it came from a mile away. You had it memorized by heart because of how many times you heard it before your sparring sessions began.

He took out his bow and was aiming to shoot an arrow.

Admittedly, there was a little voice at the back of your mind warning you about the potential danger just a couple of feet away from you. However, you decided to fight against it, knowing that the "potential danger" was just Childe. He'd never hurt you, right?

Despite the trust that you put in the ginger, you still closed your eyes as you heard him release the string of his bow. The quiet whizz of the arrow flew by your head, and when you realized that he wasn't shooting at you, you carefully opened your eyes to see a bright blue arrow shooting across the sky.

Your mouth went agape at the consecutive hydro-infused arrows flying across the velvet sky bedazzled with stars. The moon's glow illuminated the scenery, which made the setting all the more romantic and intimate. The vibrant hues of green and blue mixed with each other in the sky, creating an aurora borealis.

You were marveling at the number of arrows crossing the sky.

They were like shooting stars, except... they reminded you of Childe.

Though you knew they were only faux shooting stars, you closed your eyes.

"Archons, if you could be so kind, please allow me to be with him." You whispered to yourself.

You then opened your eyes to see the last arrow slowly fading away from your vision, and the hydro vision holder you loved so much sheepishly standing in front of you.

"I thought that the shooting stars would be visible tonight, that's why I asked you to come with me up here. Turns out my predictions were wrong. Maybe Scaramouche was right about the stars being a lie." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

You giggled and looked at him, signaling to continue what he had to say.

"Although they were fake, I hope you liked them. I brought you here so that we could wish on the shooting stars together." His face was growing red, and you wanted to run up and hug him, if only your pride would stop getting the best of you.

"I loved them, Childe. Thank you for asking me out here today." You stood up and gave his hair a light ruffle, laughing at how he mocked you for doing so.

"So, what did you wish for?" He asked, taking a few steps closer to you.

"W-Well, uh," You began to stumble on your words, which caused you to involuntarily take a step back. With each step you took, Childe did too.

"Hmm?"

He managed to back you up against the pillar in the middle of the pavilion, and was enjoying the face you made as he trapped you between his arms.

"F-For good health! Yes, good health!" Yes, lying was against your principles, but you couldn't just say straight to his face that you wished for a relationship with him now, could you?

"Good for you then. You wanna know what I wished for?" His face came extremely close to yours, and you could feel his breath on your cheek.

"Wh-What is it?"

"You."

Your eyes once again met his deep blue orbs and they softened when he was staring straight into your soul.

"Can I kiss you?"

You gave a light nod, and he finally closed the gap between your lips.

Albedo was wrong.

You can definitely believe an assumption if the signs were obvious enough.

Omake;

"You totally wished for us to be together right?!"

"Oh, for the love of the Tsaritsa, please shut up!"

"You totally did!"

"I am seriously going to push you off."

"You're so mean, girlie!"

In the name of Kimura Ryohei being the VA of Childe and Kise from Kuroko no Basket

[huihuiheart]

Claiming - Hybrid! San

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Ateez Masterlist

Pairing: Tiger Hybrid! San x Female Reader

Genre: Smut + Fluff

Summary: Part 2 of Obvious - San’s heat is coming to an end and he’s finally ready to hear your explanation for the events that brought it on in the first place. He also realizes though that some of those feelings he had during the week weren’t just his heat talking.

Warnings: The implied cheating from part 1 is explained, unprotected sex, marking, dom/sub themes, oral (f! receiving), degradation, dirty talk, cursing, soft and hard dom San, biting, claiming, blood, slapping (one to the thigh).

Word Count: 2,884

Note: This was finished and edited on breaks between my first day of a new job, with only three hours of sleep in my body, so it might be a mess. If you have concerns or things that seem like they need to be fixed please send me an ask or pm to resolve it.

“A-All yours! I’m your filthy fucking slut! Your kitten! S-San please!” You wonder if you’ve done enough as he only curls his tongue into you once before pulling away again. When he’s flipping you over though and placing your hips on the highest part of the armrest to show your ass off you already know what he’s planning, “F-Fuck yes! San please, please fuck me so good! Show everyone who owns this pussy!”

San laughs breathlessly as he strips behind you, playfully spanking your ass as he teases his tip through your fold before gripping your hips harshly and suddenly thrusting all the way into you. Leaning down with a smirk he kisses the shell of your ear before whispering.

“Oh, I will, kitten. You’ll be dripping my cum for days.”

You stirred by the feeling of fleeting kisses against the sensitive marks littering your neck. Your quiet whimper makes San slow his pace, being more gentle in the way his lips and tongue soothe at the marks he so harshly left behind over the last few days.

“Are you already ready for another round?” You whine softly, slumber still deep in your voice as you don’t even open your eyes yet. San was definitely built for weeks like this whereas you...not so much, despite how pleasant it was.

San chuckles deeply, “I mean I am, but that’s not why I woke you. I hadn’t intended to wake you at all. You’ve done so well for me this week, but you’re so exhausted now I just wanted to let you sleep.”

You hum softly with a small yawn, “You’re oddly soft right now, is your heat over already?”

“Not entirely, but it’s pretty much passed. I might get a sudden flash or two of heat today and tomorrow, the worst is over though. I’m at least coherent again.” San brushes the hair out of your face as your eyes finally flutter open to look up at him, before he kisses you softly, “Though eating you out might help with that a little bit too.”

You snicker knowing his statement was actually a request, “Go ahead then, you woke me up anyway and I’m too tired to stop you.”

San hums teasingly, “More like too enticed to stop me.”

You roll your eyes, making San laugh a little as he moves to hover over you, gently nudging your bare legs apart. You’re clothed in only a shirt and some panties knowing anything more wouldn’t have lasted during his heat anyways...not that these often did either. 

His hands ease up your thighs, inching closer and closer to your panties and the beginning of a wet spot that was forming. His thumb finding your clit through the thin fabric and rubbing slow circles onto it, easing your sensitive body into arousal once more. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s ready to go again.” San teases, nuzzling up your thigh until he reaches your panties. His tongue giving slow laps over the wetness seeping through the material, a moan low in his throat at your taste. 

His heat is still spiking just slightly with you like this, so his hands are already moving to take your panties off. Going as slow as he can will with his heat making itself known still, not to tease for once though, simply to ensure your comfort after the last couple days of restless fucking. 

San’s rough tongue is slow and gentle in its movements between your folds. Watching your face closely to take in how you were feeling. When he determines that you’re feeling good and it’s not too much he places a soft kiss on your clit before giving it some attention. His lips around your clit shrouding your whole body in sweet bliss. His goal is just to bring you over the sweet edge once and to do so gently, letting your tensed worn-out body release and finally relax some. Only lapping your release up for a little bit, not wanting to overstimulate you, just to clean you up.

“So good for me, kitten. Such a good girl.” San praises softly and you buzz at the praise drawing him up for a brief kiss.

“Does this mean we can finally talk about what happened?” You inquire with a quiet voice not wanting to push anything, especially with San’s heat still lingering.

San hums, “We can, but not yet. First I’m going to draw you a nice bath to relax and clean up in and then I’m going to feed you some breakfast. We can talk once I’ve made sure you’ve had a chance to recover.” 

He kisses your forehead before going to do as he had said he was going to. Humming a soft tune as he goes, something that eases your worries about where you and he stood.

Leaning back in your seat after finishing a full meal without interruption for the first time in four days you were starting to feel much more recharged now. Thinking that San may have had a good point in wanting to clean up and eat properly first. 

Resting your chin in your palm you watch him as he finishes up his own food and it makes him chuckle, “That eager to talk about it?”

“I mean...I’ve been anxious about it so kind of ready to get it over with. I’m worried about what you think of me.” You admit, leaning into San’s touch when you feel him cupping your cheek.

“I know I get jealous easily, but I trust you, my love. I know whatever explanation you have will be reasonable.” San encourages brushing his thumb over your skin.

“My brother is visiting, so I went to spend some time with him. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him, so there was a lot of hugging involved.” You laugh a little when San’s brows furrowed in confusion knowing the scent wasn’t anything like yours or anyone in your family, “He was my foster brother. My family looked after him for a few years until someone adopted him...well before we were able to anyways. He comes and visits when he can, but it’s not super often. I was going to tell you about it, considering he wants to meet you, but it kind of triggered your heat, so we’ve not really got a chance to talk about that.”

San flushes a little rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah...we have been a bit preoccupied...but of course, I’d want to meet him! Though I am curious as to why he wants to meet me.”

“He said it’s because you’re important to me...and he says he can tell from how happy I am that you’re the one. So he wants to come to see if you have any wedding plans or anything I guess.” You laugh a little but notice how his ears perk up at the mention of weddings.

“Oh? It’s interesting you bring that up...cause my heat got me thinking about somethings.” San admits, blushing a slightly deeper hue now. 

This time it’s you who reaches out to him, cupping his cheek in your palm and trying to calm him, “Well you can talk to me about it if you’re ready to. You know that.”

San nods softly, hand slipping over yours and turning his head to kiss your palm, “I just want to move too fast and scare you away or anything.” 

“If you’re moving too fast I’ll say so, but I seriously doubt you’ll ever scare me away at this point. If that was going to happen it would have happened a long time ago.” You joke with him, trying to lighten the mood some and put him more at ease.

“Well we haven’t really talked about it too much, so for starters...hybrids don’t usually have a wedding as you would have. I mean...I’m not opposed to it of course especially for you and your family. I know how special and meaningful that is for you...but we take that step differently typically.” San explains, noticing how your face scrunches in confusion. You had done a lot of research about hybrids having San around and wanting to be familiar with his needs and what to expect, yet you’d never seen anything that you could think he could be talking about now.

“Well then what do you usually do? I want to know. If we were to have a wedding for me, then I’d want to do the equivalent for you too.” You encourage and he takes your hands in his carefully.

“Why don’t you hear what it is before making that decision, my love. It might not be so pleasant for you...like my heat you’ll be okay to handle it, but you weren’t made for it either. So if you don’t want to do it I understand.” San leans forward brushing your hair back and kissing your forehead softly, “For hybrids, we do something a lot less public...and a lot more intimate. Usually, we get the urge to do it while in our heat, but unless we really want that it goes away after our heat...that desire isn’t going away for me this time. I want it still.” 

Your skin is a bit heated at the implications, but you still have so many unanswered questions, “Just tell me what happens San. It’s alright.”

“When a hybrid and the person who he wants to be with forever...to be his mate are...well...breeding. He claims her, right here...” San’s thumb brushes over the sensitive skin on your sweet spot, the very spot he loves to suckle his marks onto, “ It’s a bite simply put, meant to leave a lasting mark for anyone to see. It will hurt and it will bleed, but I promise it will make you feel good too and I’ll take care of you if you were to agree.” 

You hum, processing his explanation for a moment, “And you want to do that with me?”

San nods almost immediately, “I do. I really...really do, but I don’t want to hurt you or do anything that would make you upset or uncomfortable.”

“Well, I’ll agree...on one condition.” You finally voice your opinion and it has San looking at you intently, waiting to hear whatever it was your condition would me. Ready to do anything in a heartbeat, “I want to do this in some sort of order that makes sense to me too...so propose first and once we’re engaged you can claim me in every way you want San.”

“Oh fuck...I totally forgot about the whole engagement thing...I have to get a ring, don’t I? ...fuck, I don’t even know where to start.” San whines and it makes you giggle.

“Who says we have to have the ring in hand for you to propose? You can ask without it...besides I’m sure my family would love to help you pick something out later.” You smirk at him, watching as it takes a minute to understand what you mean before getting giddy once again.

San scrambles down onto one knee, giggling a little himself, “Well then...Y/N will you marry me? Will you be my one and only? Forever?”

“Yes San, I will.” You giggle back, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to kiss him. Something he easily returns as he stands and takes you into his arms. 

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to become more intense, San’s heat flashing through him again at your agreeing and touch. It being enough to spur on another wave of desire, one that was obvious even to you as a human. In part because you knew him and in part due to the fact that his skin burned under your touch, his arousal building beneath his pants and pressing against your hip.

“Well go on then...if you want it so badly I’m not going to stop you San. I want it too, to be yours for the whole world to see...claim me San.” Your pleads have San growling, nipping at your lips before capturing them passionately once more. His hands groping at any part of you that they could get to as he gets more desperate to feel you again. 

San’s hands move to grip your thighs, pressing against you before picking you up to carry you back to your bedroom. His tongue laving over your sweet spot, before giving it special attention with his lips, only breaking away to lay you back onto the bed. 

“How sore are you, kitten?” San asks, hands toying with the hem of the shirt you were wearing as he watches your face.

“Not enough that you should hold back.” You smirk, knowing what he was asking and he smacks your thigh playfully, barely leaving a sting.

“Don’t get cocky with me, just because I’m trying to take care of my kitten. Besides you’re going to be sore again after this.” San’s words sound more like a promise than anything else as his lips find your throat again, seemingly fixed on it right now. His hands working your shirt up at a slow pace, not ready to leave the sweet spot his mouth was focused on again yet. 

“I better be. I like having that constantly reminding me of you. Besides, the things that lead to me being so sore are the most fun anyway.” Your words make San smirk against your skin, before pulling back to pull your shirt off entirely.

“Oh is that so kitten? Does my girl like it rough?” San mocks leaning down to bite playfully at your nipple, “Want me to ruin you?” 

“Fuck, yes...I do. I want it so badly.” Your desperation is growing along with his and making you both restless. San’s chuckle turns into a growl as he smells your arousal in the air. 

San’s fingers slip down between your folds, seeing how wet you were before quickly pulling your panties down. His hand moves to return to your folds until you push it away, making his eyes snap up to your face sternly.

“Easy there tiger.” You snicker, “I’m not stopping you, it’s just...” 

San’s brows furrow at your hesitance thinking maybe you were reconsidering this for now, until he sees how flustered you are instead of regret on your face, “What is it kitten?”

“Please no teasing...I’m already ready for you again, no prep.” You admit and San licks his lips looking down at your soaked folds. 

“Oh, so that’s what it is hm? And here I thought I was the desperate one with my heat.” San taunts, making quick work of his pants and letting his hard cock slap against his abs. 

You nod, biting your lip. Though soon it won’t matter what you do, San will have you screaming. San’s tip running through your sodden folds as something, before pushing into you. The feeling only more familiar after the last few days, but no less blissful. His hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing at your skin, before his touch gets firmer, holding you in place. His thrusts start slow, but deep and forceful, hitting all the right spots. Enamored with the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, leaning down and teasingly flicking his tongue over one of your nipples. 

As his pace picks up his hands move to your thighs, pushing them open to give himself full access to your heat. His one hand moving up again, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing circles onto it. His other hand now gripping your jaw to make you look into his eyes. His lips moving in towards yours, growling against your lips.

“Fuck kitten, you’re so good for me. You’re going to take it, won’t you? You’ll cum and then take everything I give you like a good girl won’t you?” San’s questions are more of a demand knowing that you could, but there’s a desperation to them that lets you know he needs your answer too. 

Your palms pull his face in for a kiss before moving his face to your neck again, fingers tangling into his hair and tugging to a nip and another growl.

"I...I'm going to cum for you San..." You keen, San thrusting harder, his fingers putting more pressure on your clit. Trying to distract you from the initial pain you would soon feel as he bites down onto your sweet spot the second he feels you cumming around him. The pain soon bleeds into white-hot pleasure coursing through your whole body, riding you through your orgasm, the more intense you've had yet as he cums inside of you.

Once you've both started to come back to reality San leans down, gently lapping at the wound as blood trickles out and onto your skin. Before giving you a short, sweet kiss.

"I'm going to clean that up and get it taken care of and then I'll take care of the rest of you kitten." He promises, kissing your forehead, " You've done so good for me you can rest now."

His words of assurance are all your body needs for you to start drifting off again. Only slightly registering the feeling of him cleaning and dressing the wound for you before you're entirely swept away into your dreams...dreams of the future. Of your future, with San.

Tags: @foreveryouaremystar​

[snowflakeanimelover]

A jelous scenario for Senku, where kohaku and some other village girls hv been getting a lot of attention from senku (n thier kinda like dropping things and bending down to pick it up, getting in his space, touching his face/arms) even tho he’d cringe so hard it’s to build the tension😒. And he’s been making things for them and helping them with certain things they never knew about bc of the Stone Age. Like (hair products, skin care, advice etc... N poor s/o is so sad and feels jelous and kinda has a rude vibe around the girls now n senku notices as much as everyone else. N chrome or Gen says something to senku before and he’s like Ohk I’ll talk to them, before he gets the chance s/o calls him out infront of everyone and kinda storms off. Can u finish the rest 😭 ofc it ends with fluff(either a medium or long scenario u chose).

I liked this one! Thank you for the request and for the details. Sorry if this is not that long. But I hope you enjoy it! Also, it goes from first person POV to third person POV.

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I never thought that having a relationship with a very smart guy could be so stressful. Especially in the Stone Age. Senku is smart, but he is so oblivious to the girls in the village. More like what they are trying to do, which really pisses me off.

It all started the day before. I noticed how the girls from the village were trying to get really close to Senku. My job to help Senku is to keep track of everyone else’s job. Seeing if the glass is working fine, or if the ramen is tasting the same, and more. But, as I was asking Kaseki how the glass bottles were going, I look up to Senku’s voice. A girl named Ruby from the village was touching Senku’s arm. Not to mention Sapphire and Garnet huddled around him, looking all excited.

I excuse myself from Kaseki, walking over to Senku. Just as I was heading over, Senku waves to the girls as they leave. “What was that all about?” I ask him, crossing my arms.

Senku doesn’t seem to notice the tone in my voice, or my body gesture. “They were asking about makeup, skin care… you know, that kind of stuff girls wear.” I slightly glare at him as he walks to his workshop. I didn’t notice, though, that Senku was wiping something off of his arm. I decided to head back to doing my job.

The next day, I saw Kohaku hugging Senku occasionally and holding onto his arm all day. My blood boiled with anger, making me break a stick I was holding to throw for Suika’s dog. What ere these girls planning? I was about ready to snap, which Suika noticed right away.

“(Y/N)? Senku told me about this skin care stuff. Will it help my sister? He said it’s for girls, so I should ask you.” Kohaku asks me.

“Why don’t you ask Senku? Since you seem to be clinging onto him all the damn time! And he’s a scientist! He knows damn well I don’t wear make up!” I yell at her, steam coming out of my ears and nose. Kohaku takes a few steps back in shock. I look around, seeing as my yelling got everyone’s attention. I take a deep breath as I walk out into the woods, away from everyone. My eyes getting blurrier with each passing second.

“Hey, Senku!” Chrome walks up to the shocked boy, with Gen coming up right behind. “Something seems off with (Y/N). Maybe you should go talk to her.”

“I agree completely with Chrome.” Gen nods.

Senku looks out to where (Y/N) just left. “Yeah. I’ll go talk to her.” He says, before walking off to (Y/N)’s direction. Gen and Chrome look at each other in worry.

 -----------------------------------------------

Senku didn’t expect to find (Y/N) in such an upset form. He knows how strong she is and has barely seen her cry since he’s known her. But now…now he just feels horrible seeing her that way. Not that he knows why she’s upset, but he could feel his heart drop down to his stomach.

Senku sits down next to (Y/N), putting his arm around her shoulders in a hug. “What’s the matter? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

(Y/N) glares at him from above her arms that hold her knees up close. “Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be making that skin care stuff for those girls or something?” She spits out.

“What are you talking about? You’re the only one that I truly care about. I can’t just leave you like this.” He says, confused to what she is getting at.

She rubs her eyes, trying to get the blurriness out of them so she could see him better. “R-really? You only care about me…?”

Senku nods with one of his famous smirks. The one that makes (Y/N)’s heart beat faster than normal. His thumb rubs against her cheek, removing a tear that just escaped. “Ten billion percent. I love you, (Y/N). And that will never change.” A red hue starts to cover his cheeks as he avoids eye contact. “What was that about, anyway?”

“I’m sorry, Senku… I got jealous cause the girls from the village were all over you.” She throws her hands in the air, as if to prove how upset she was about it.

Senku chuckles at her expression. “Oh, I see. But you know how much I hate people touching me, unless its you, of course.” He smiles at her.

(Y/N)’s face turns as red as a tomato. “D-don’t say it like that… it’s embarrassing…” She looks away.

Senku kisses her temple, hugging her tighter. “Maybe I should say it more often just to see that cute expression.” He laughs at her face getting redder.

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 03 | Local Networking | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 12.9K

Last time on SR02: Drinking games are fun but you probably went a little overboard last night when you let your feelings of animosity towards Jungkook get the better of you. The experience has at least allowed you to work through some of your anger. Then he surprised you by helping get you to bed when you started feeling sick… so he’s not all bad. Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to patch things up?

Tags: Fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, jealousy, sexual tension, sloppy makeout sessions, Joonie is Y/N’s best boi, girls helping girls, friendship feels

CW: drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, mentions of negative body image

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (3/?- Ongoing)

AN: I was inspired to write this next instead so please enjoy! Do not repost. masterlist // previous chapter // next chapter

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook awakens to Seokjin’s bony fingers poking his side. He attempts to roll over with a grumble, forgetting where he willingly chose to spend the night before a collision with the floor reminds him. Seokjin cackles out a squeaky sound as his friend groans and reaches for the couch cushion to bring him to his feet.

“How did you get in here?” He murmurs, rubbing his eyes. “Ugh… what time is it?”

“Is that any way to greet a guest? Didn’t I say I’d be back to make breakfast for Y/N?” Seokjin is already picking up the hoodie partially hidden beneath the blanket nearby. “Hmm what’s this?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen and he tries to snatch it back from him, but Seokjin has already turned away and draped it around his back. He quickly feeds his arms through the sleeves and contentedly sighs.

“Oh, little Jungkookie…” he begins in a teasing voice, “don’t tell me you’re stealing her clothes now and wearing them like some creepy pervert.”

“Tch. No. She left it on the couch.” Jungkook flares his nostrils and scoffs. “Take it off. You’re going to stretch it out.”

“It’s oversized. It’s fine,” Seokjin fires back, holding up a floppy sleeve and waving it in his friend’s face.

Jungkook crinkles his nose in disgust, catching the subtle scent of his friend already diluting yours. “God. Stop wearing so much cologne.”

Seokjin forcefully blinks, briefly scrunching his features as he holds back what he really wants to say. “Cologne? I’m not wearing any. You must be smelling my natural irresistible scent. Intoxicating, isn’t it?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna make it stink like you.”

“Hmm? Do you think she’s going to get this back and feel compelled to… ” The older man zips the hoodie and lifts the fabric to his face to take a deep inhale. “Smell!?”

When Jungkook groans at his laughter Seokjin quirks a brow at him. “You were sleeping with this over your face so I thought you might suffocate in such a delicate scent. Really my balancing aroma means I’m your savior. You should be bowing down to me.”

“Whatever. You gonna cook or what?” Jungkook asks, waving a dismissive arm as he crosses the room.

Seokjin recognizes the path his friend takes as the one leading to his bedroom. “What? Are you going back to bed? Don’t expect me to bring a plate to you in there.”

“Don’t worry,” he sighs as he passes the bathroom, hearing the water from the shower beating against the tile floor. He’s never had to pee so badly in his life. “I’m just going to awaken the princess.”

He pauses to press his ear against the door to his room. He can’t hear anything. With a careful, quiet turn of the knob, he cracks the door open just enough to listen for movement. It’s not until he’s sure of the sound of your soft snoring that he opens the door further to peek inside.

Your body is turned so you’re facing the empty side of the bed and at some point you’ve swung your leg over his comforter to trap it between your thighs. You almost look content with your nose buried in his pillow. It’s easy to forget that a scowl isn’t a permanent expression branded on your face when you look so peaceful and sweet.

The carpet muffles his footsteps as he crosses the room, sinking to his knees as he approaches the side of the bed. He places an elbow on the mattress and rests his chin in his palm as he reaches out to touch your shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispers, a soothing tone coating the word.

His fingers trace a gentle path up your arm but you don’t stir. Still knocked out? He knows he shouldn’t be surprised. You really did have a lot last night. He’s just glad you didn’t throw up, especially not on his favorite set of polyester sheets. They’re far too expensive to be covered in puke. If he had known you’d be sleeping here he would have changed the sheets like he normally does for company. He’s not exactly used to sharing his personal belongings. It’s much easier to keep everything separate. Compartmentalize. But here you are fucking all that up, like you do.

Before he can even register all of the reasons he should not have his hand in your hair, his fingers move of their own accord, gliding through it like they belong there.

“Mmm… That feels good,” you murmur, leaning into the touch.

Your eyes open, the thick fog of sleep slowly lifting with your eyelids. You’re not sure you’re seeing the person before you properly so you rub your eye with your knuckles and groan.

“Please tell me you’re not who I think you are.”

“Who do you think I am?” he whispers teasingly, failing to keep the laughter from his question.

“Jungkook,” you groan in warning, turning your face into the soft pillow to hide. “Go away.”

“Hmm,” he hums, carefully massaging his fingers along your scalp. “I thought you said it felt good.”

Blood rushes to your ears as you fight to not melt straight into the mattress. You definitely said that out loud. That was a thing you said to Jungkook. Out loud. Fuck. It does feel good, too good.

“Yeah, well…” Your strangled, frustrated sigh cloaks the delight in your tone as you force yourself to look back at his face. “That was before I knew it was you.”

His focused expression morphs into a cheesy smile. “Now that you know it’s me, it really goes from being good to being great, huh?”

You attempt to smack his hand from your hair but his fingers get caught in a massive tangle of knots. You immediately yelp a pathetic sound, sitting up and yanking your head back, which only ensnares him further.

“Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait!” he warns, volume of his tone rising as he climbs up on the bed to lessen the strain on your scalp. “I think my ring…!”

“Ah….! Ah!”

He can’t help the devilish smile that curls his lips at the sound. The labored breaths you offer so freely begin to lodge themselves into his brain for later recollection. For now he suppresses the laughter bubbling in his throat and places his other hand around your head.

“Hold still, princess,” he whispers.

He leans over you to get a better view of the strands trapped in the fine metalwork looped around his middle finger.

“Fucking hurry up,” you hiss, trying to ignore the heat building in your face.

He sighs a loud, frustrated sound at you. “Gimme a sec.”

It’s not like he’s taking his time. He’s not. So what if you’re laying in his bed? So what if you’re cute when you whimper? So what if the scent of your shampoo is making his stomach do somersaults? He pauses to quietly inhale, hoping it’s enough to satisfy the tingling desire in his chest.

You turn your head to the side and do your best to focus your eyes anywhere but the heavy creases lining his obliques. Luckily the ink on his skin steals the entirety of your attention. Your eyes follow a trail of grey brush strokes along his side that seem to grow purple in hue as they wrap around his shoulder and encircle an image you can’t quite make out from your current position. You turn your head, angling yourself slightly to attempt to see more. A sharp tug quickly pulls you back to reality.

“Ow! Jungkook! Fucking pull it out!” you bark, frustration seeping through your tone.

Every time you think you’ve successfully suppressed your feelings of infatuation, they resurface and leave you feeling like a moron. You know better yet you still fall victim to your mind’s own blind spot. Why does having crushes on people have to make you feel so oblivious?

“I’m trying!” His tone is defensive and pouty. “It’s hard to concentrate when you’re yelling at me, you know.”

“Hey!” Seokjin’s call causes you both to jump. “What is it that I’m hearing right now?”

Jungkook laughs, “I’m being a gentleman and pulling it out.”

Seokjin snorts. “That was fast. The least you could do is close the door. Come out for breakfast when you’re done.”

“Seokjin…No! That’s not…!”

There’s a lump in your throat and you realize you can’t form words to continue the rest of your objection to his assumption. You pound a fist against the muscular chest hovering over you. Jungkook coughs as though the air has been knocked from his lungs, quickly following it with a laugh as he pulls his fingers from your hair. The ring remains caught within your locks.

“I want that back,” he says, climbing off the bed and focusing his attention on the dresser nearby.

He digs through until he pulls out a t-shirt, pulling it over his head. You’re working the ring from your hair, carefully pulling it free. A flannel shirt smacks your face and lands in your lap just as you sit up.

“I want that back too.”

“Why would I need your shirt?” you sneer, balling the flannel up and tossing it back at him. “Mine’s perfectly fine.”

He catches it in one hand and throws it back at you quicker than your brain can register the action. You fail to miss the way his eyes rake over your body, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

He shrugs with an air of nonchalance. “Thought you might be cold.”

As he exits the room, he shuts the door. It’s after you hear the click of the mechanism that you see the bra you’ve obviously discarded at some point during the night splayed out on the floor just beyond the foot of the bed. You turn the ring around in your fingers a few times and drop your gaze to two very hard nipples threatening to cut holes in the fabric of your shirt. You drop your forehead into your lap and gather the fabric of the flannel around your face.

“Fucking hate you,” you whine into the flannel.

Moreover, you hate the way your heart beats faster every time he teases you. You hate the way you’ve started thinking about him again. You hate the attention and love it all in the same breath. You hate the way you’ve begun to crave it and you’re afraid he knows it. You sigh and rise, looking around for your phone. You vaguely remember kind of maybe possibly setting up a potential date with Jason. It’s better to focus on that than whatever nonsensical feelings are stirring on your Jungkook radar.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It’s not until you’re sitting at your desk three days later that you second guess your profile pictures on tinder being the most up-to-date. Do you still look the same as a year ago? Two years? You don’t even feel like the you that you were a month ago. How are you supposed to show your most genuine self when you’re so worried that someone is going to accuse you of being insincere about your appearance?

Pushing down your insecurities and trying to get your mind off of things, you sift through personal emails on your second monitor. Checking for bills due before heading into the lab is a good way to clear your mind of unnecessary noise. Focus on here. Focus on now. But even staring at the screen for the electric company’s login page can’t save you from wandering back down the road of worry.

Jason’s been nice. He was patient with your social anxiety when you said you didn’t want to meet right away without getting a sense for him first. After a few weeks, you forced yourself past the discomfort because you started to like who he presented himself as. But pictures and long texts at the end of a busy day can only tell you so much about him. It’s time. You’ve been hinting at it for a while and now it’s finally going to happen. Who knows? Maybe he’s just as scared as you are. He said he can relate to the anxiety so maybe you can bond over being awkward together. But what if he sees you and doesn’t like what he sees? What if you’re nothing like what he thought?

You take a deep breath as the bill payment goes through and you close the tab, moving to the next cluster of emails to clear from your inbox. They’re mostly newsletters you don’t have the motivation to unsubscribe from and the daily recipe emails you swear you’re going to try out when you have more time to learn to properly cook a meal. It just seems like so much effort right now to your stressed out brain. You don’t even bother looking at any of them.

Delete.

Just as you’re about to close the tab, a new promotion notification pops up.

[IRON KINGDOM IS LOOKING FOR HEROES]

Despite every fiber of your being telling you not to, you open the email. You scan the corny greeting and find an offer for a free month of personal training for new clients who sign up for a membership. You’re relieved to see the email is signed by trainer Hwasa and accompanied by cute animated doodles of an arm flexing with 8-bit plus symbols, sparkles, and a big “LVL UP!” sticker.

Their marketing tactics sure seem geared towards gamers. No wonder Jungkook works there. It’s a bit cheesy, but you can’t help but find it endearing. Maybe a gym will give you the confidence you need to stop worrying about your appearance entirely. Fat chance. But it’s still a chance. You star the email and close the tab, heading back into the lab to work on today’s repairs.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Late night?”

You rub your eyes and yawn at the cafe table, thankful when Namjoon slides an iced-coffee towards you. You’re grateful you haven’t put on makeup today because it would have smeared all over your hands. When did 11am become too early for a Saturday?

“Thanks, Joonie.” You smack your lips before trying to hide your smile by sipping through the straw. “I stayed up playing games with Jason.”

“Oh?” He seems genuinely surprised. “Have you guys met in person yet?”

You shake your head. “Next week. We’re supposed to… go to an arcade bar. But we played some co-op games on Steam last night.”

Namjoon offers a blank stare. “I have no idea what that means.”

“We chatted over headsets and played some stuff together. It was fun.” You smile down at the cap on your drink as you take another sip.

“Did he sound like a nerd?” Jennie teases as she sits down beside you with her own cup of piping hot coffee.

“He had a deep voice actually. I was surprised,” you admit, an air of infatuation dressing your tone.

“Deep like Namjoon’s?” Jennie asks, elbowing you playfully. “Or Taehyung’s? What if it’s one of them and they’re just fucking with you? Totally cat-fishing.”

Namjoon squirms in his seat across from you, not wanting to admit his once moronic idea to give you some hope by making a fake profile to build you up and deleting the whole thing as soon as it was made. He laughs into his cup. “Like I could do that.”

You laugh and wave her off. “Namjoon’s is like rocky deep and Taehyung’s is like breathy deep. This is more like…”

“…Yes?” Jennie rolls her hand towards you repeatedly. “Words?”

“Rocky deep?” Namjoon frowns and pouts quietly. “What does that even mean?”

“It means it’s got grit, but it’s pleasant. You’re fine, Joon,” Jennie explains, dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand.

“…Buttery?”

“Oh.” Jennie quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as she sips her coffee. “Smooth and silky hmm?”

“Uh….” you purse your lips. “I mean… more like N…Nasal butter.”

Coffee spurts from your companions’ mouths and noses. They both quickly gather napkins to deal with the mess.

“Hot! Hot! Ow! Fuck. Wow. Never say that phrase again in your life, Y/N!” Jennie coughs. “Just say. Deep voiced nerd. That’s all you gotta say!”

Namjoon is cackling like a madman, despite the fact that he’s still wiping at his nose and mouth.

You purse your lips and shyly tap your fingers together. “I thought it was a good description.”

“Which is exactly the reason why I re-did your profile in the first place,” Jennie huffs, wiping down the table.

“Okay so….” Namjoon struggles to contain his laughter. “Are you excited to meet Jay-Jay in person now? Or should I call him Nay-Bae now?”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “Guys, look. I’m super fucking scared to meet this guy. What if he doesn’t like me?”

They both answer at the same time. “He’ll like you.”

“You guys are biased because you’re my friends. But like. You know not everyone is attracted to everyone else. Everyone likes something different. So like… what if he’s not attracted to me in person?”

“He’s seen pictures of you. He shouldn’t have swiped right if he didn’t find you hot,” Jennie says matter-of-factly. It almost makes you believe her.

“But those are mostly selfies. Good angles, y’know? The body shots are older, like a year or two?” you try to reason.

“Y/N. Your Zelda pic is from Halloween, which was months ago, not years. He’s going to like the way you look and if he doesn’t he’s a moron,” she fires back.

“I just… Don’t feel like the person shown in those pictures. I don’t want him to think I’m lying to him.”

Jennie bites her lip, knowing how insecure you are about your body image, how sensitive you are about it. Years of being bullied tend to have that effect on people.

“Honey, if he thinks you lied in your photos then he’s not the guy for you,” she says, hugging an arm around your shoulder.

Namjoon nods empathically. “Besides, he may not be right for you either. It’s a test to see if you’re compatible.” His eyes widen and he sits up straight. “Oh. Treat it like a test! You did well on exams, right? Well, this is just a kind of exam that you get to grade. Think of yourself like a… professor.” His face splits into a goofy dimpled grin.

Jennie smacks her hand to her forehead. “Namjoon…”

Just treat it like an exam in prerequisite courses. What did you do for those? Truth be told you soaked in lectures and relied on cramming for exams an hour before taking a test. The weird part is that you would walk in nervous, but you’d sit down and take a deep breath and you’d tell yourself something. What was it?

I know it or I don’t.

No amount of stressing ever changed that phrase. By the time you got the exam in front of you, you could admit if you were lacking in knowledge somewhere and that would be your own fault. The essays were easy enough to bullshit if you knew the general premise of the question. Either way you figured out what needed more studying and you fixed the problem for the next test. Convert that to dating?

Your brows are furrowed and you’re staring at the table with your lips slightly parted when you answer. “We like each other or we don’t. Either way it’s okay because I can always try again with someone new.”

Jennie raises her eyebrows, shocked at your response. “Yes.”

“Exactly,” Namjoon says, offering a soft smile.

From behind the counter a few feet away Yoongi glances up at the three of you, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hands are already working to pour a perfect heart shape into the milk of another customer’s latte, but his eyes remain fixed to your table. Namjoon’s wave pulls him back to reality and he focuses on the task at hand before milk can spill over the side of the cup. You turn in sync with Jennie, just in time to see Yoongi delicately setting out the cup on a plate and calling for its recipient. He offers a cocked smile and subtle nod in your direction before focusing on his next order.

“That boy is a workaholic,” you say, picking up your cup and tonguing the straw to your iced coffee before taking a sip.

“Workaholic? I guess you’d know all about that, huh?” Jennie teases, facing you again.

“I take breaks,” you say defensively. “I do.”

Namjoon takes a long slurp of his coffee and focuses on the bland painting nestled in the corner of the cafe.

“When’s the last time you took a lunch break, like, away from your job?” she prods.

“I… don’t have time for that… But I do pay my bills at work, which totally counts as a break.”

“Wild.”

Namjoon chuckles, covering his grin behind his hands. “Oh, that reminds me. Geeksquad, you cancel your free week before it charges you?”

You pout, working your straw in and out of the lid with restless fingers before rolling your eyes with a huff. You tap your phone to wake it up, knowing if you don’t do it now you’ll forget. “Thanks, mom.”

You’re greeted with the email you’ve been staring at all week, tormenting yourself over a response. “Hey, uh, so… remember how I was talking about being worried about the way I look?”

Namjoon sighs like he’s about to die on a battlefield over this. “Geeksquad. You’re gorgeous and smart and funny. You need to stop stressing over this.”

You blink a few times in surprise, feeling the heat rising in your face and hoping it’s an invisible involuntary response. “Oh. I, um…” A nervous laugh escapes your lips. “I wasn’t asking you to talk me up again.”

He clears his throat loudly, clearly embarrassed for overstepping. “Ah no, I wasn’t. I was just saying… in general. You know? You sell yourself short.” He’s quick to down the liquid in his cup and dart his eyes elsewhere. Is there a hole he can go crawl in?

“Now I’ve got enough from the both of you to trick my brain into producing dopamine for the day. Thank you.” You laugh. “But… I was just thinking… maybe a good way to boost my confidence on a larger scale would be to maybe join a gym?”

“What gym?” Jennie asks, raising her eyebrows with a knowing smile.

“Well…” you focus on canceling the trial at your fingertips while you talk. “Iron Kingdom is running a special where if you sign up for a membership you get a month of personal training for free. I was thinking of signing up with one of the coaches there… Not Jungkook,” you clarify.

She nods. “I mean they’re pretty popular and cheap. Exercise is a natural mood booster. Just know you’ll probably see him from time to time.”

“How often could I possibly see him if I’m going before work?”

“Bold of you to assume you’re gonna be getting up before you absolutely have to,” Namjoon jokes with a laugh. “I’ve seen you pre-coffee at six am on a weekday. I think you’d rather die than be up earlier than that.”

He’s not wrong. You click your tongue and give a slow half-nod, half-shake of your head. “I have an iron will, Joonie. I can condition myself.”

He scoffs. “Riiight.”

“Besides, I’ll be more accountable if both of you are going with me.” You bat your eyelashes at him.

“Hey don’t drag me into this. I’m content waking up at six thirty every day. Don’t ask me for more. I could maybe do after work.”

Your sweet smile turns into a sour pout before turning to Jennie. “You said you’d sign up with me before we knew Jungkook worked there.”

“Workouts before I’m awake were not part of that discussion. I will gladly do weekends with you,” she agrees.

“What is this, split-custody?” you whine.

She sighs. “Fine, I will sign up for classes with you too… if you stick with it. We’ll get Namjoon to sign up for one too.”

“What?” Namjoon shakes his head. “Hold up. I never agreed—”

“We’ll make a thing of it. Get a meal after,” she says with an aggressive smile as she kicks his shin under the table. “My treat.”

I’m bribing you to do this for her, Namjoon. That’s what she’s really saying, but you appreciate the sentiment anyway.

“We’ll let you pick what we can sign up for together,” you offer as your consoling statement.

He finishes his coffee with a heavy sigh. “Alright. Alright.”

He’ll have to ask Jungkook what the most low-effort class at his gym is and hopefully he won’t poke too much into the reasoning for his sudden interest. Knowing his friend, though… It’s a matter of time.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Since Yoongi is thinking of applying for a bartending job at a new place that just opened up, Hoseok insisted on having the weekly Saturday night hangout there. Something you instantly like is that the space is divided into a louder dance scene and a muted lounge atmosphere separated by a wall of glass that mutes just enough sound to dull the loudest out basslines in the next room. The high energy of the club heavily contrasts the laid back scene in the lounge. Ups and downs. Seesaw is a fitting name.

You’re more of a lounge kind of girl, enjoying a noticeable lack of vibrations rattling your skull as you settle down with a new drink. Jennie and the others may favor the other side and you’ll no doubt be dragged back in, but a moment of respite is all you really need right now. You run your fingers through your hair as you tie it up, staring down at your phone. Jason sent you a selfie and he’s every bit as cute as the photos you keep going back to look at. Sweat lines your brow as you attempt to make yourself presentable enough for a photo of your own.

Taking a look around the room self-consciously, you lift the phone and don a plastic grin. You snap a pic that you spend ten seconds internally tearing apart before sending. You tip the glass towards you, the orange juice and tequila going down all too easy and leaving a tangy taste on your tongue. When you wait for the dots on the screen to stop moving, your stomach drops.

JASON: lmao looks like someone photobombed you. You look good though.

Good. You look good. Not cute. Not hot or sexy. Good. Why does that feel so mediocre? Maybe it’s because he’s never actually said “you’re beautiful” or anything to that effect. It’s not like you need to hear it all the time, but every once in a while would do wonders for your confidence.

You’re not even worried about the first part of the text until you scroll back up to scrutinize your features once again and see a familiar dark haired figure in the background with two middle fingers raised. You zoom in on the figure and grit your teeth when you realize he’s sticking his long tongue out with a knowing grin.

“Getting a better look?” Jungkook asks, chin digging into your shoulder as he leans over you and plants a hand on the table. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

“Jungkook,” you warn, fire flaring up in your gut. “Go back to the noisy side where you belong.”

“What, you think I don’t like it quiet sometimes too?” He almost sounds offended as he hops into the chair beside you. His tight-lipped smile and quirked brow fill you with feelings of mistrust. “Keeping quiet can be a challenge. And I always like a challenge.”

“Is that why you’re still bothering me?”

He takes the orange off the rim of your glass and pops it into his mouth with a shrug.

“Stop trying to ruin my chances with Jason and stop stealing my fruit.”

When he smiles at you the orange rind peeks out from the space between his lips and you sigh in frustration.

“I left your cherry.” He points to the fruit half buried in ice as he places the empty rind on the table.

He laughs when you crinkle your nose at the mess he’s made, wiping the table down with a napkin.

“Jason,” he huffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s been like a month hasn’t it? Has he even eaten you out?”

Your eyes widen and you flounder to formulate a response.”Ah–I–You–Uh–K-Kook!”

“I mean– taken you out?” he laughs hard at the way you trip over your words. “No, no, wait. The first one. I meant the first one.”

“Does this work for you?” you question after taking a long sip from your drink. “The dirty jokes. The crass humor. The douchebag behavior…”

He raises his eyebrows and shrugs. “I thought we had something special, Princess. You were in my bed and everything just last week.”

“Okay you’re–That’s–Totally out of context.” You take another sip, reaching the red syrup at the bottom before digging your finger past the ice to reach the fallen cherry. “And you’re avoiding the question.”

His smile falters for a fraction of a second. “Depends on the girl. You’d be surprised by how many say they don’t want an asshole and they roll their eyes at the jokes, the crass humor… Just like you do.” His voice gets low and breathy, shifting in his seat so his shoulder touches yours. “But that douchebag behavior, as you put it…”

Steady fingers reach for the nervous pair tapping the table beside your phone and you tense. His hand is warm and soft as it curls around your cold, clammy ones. Your breath hitches in your throat as you fix your eyes on his thumb kneading soft, comforting circles into the back of your hand. Your eyes rise slowly up to the owner, never moving past his jaw, too afraid to meet his eyes. Why couldn’t these stupid crush feelings just go away when you started talking to Jason?

“It’s a tactic. It’s a game to me. And it works…” he chuckles a subtle sound, watching the way your gaze lingers on his lips. “It’s flirting, Princess. Do you want me to stop?”

“I…” The truth is that you don’t know. Your body aches for him to continue but when it’s over and he’s done playing games with you, you’ll feel like a fool again. Is it really worth it?

Dark eyes bore into yours, a look of longing in them that almost makes you forget they’re attached to the face of a fuckboy. You blink slowly, caught in the trap of featherlight touches you know you could leave in an instant. So why don’t you? It feels so fucking good to be touched, to feel wanted, even for a moment. You find yourself leaning into it, leaning into him. Even as he feigns a shy smile and chuckles, you hate yourself so much for not breaking away from him. A strangled noise escapes you that sounds like a laugh that is alien to your own ears.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he whispers, followed by a whimsical laugh.

Fuck. Why did he have to be the one to say it? Friends don’t count. Jennie and Namjoon don’t count. But Jungkook? He’s not exactly the same classification of friend as either of them. Are you even friends? Last week he made a point of calling you everyone else’s friend, but never called you his. Is it because he wants something more or because he sees you as something not worth calling more? Your lungs are burning. Are you holding your breath? It feels like you’re holding your breath. Your chest rises and falls in rapid succession.

You take a deep inhale and try to calm yourself enough to rip the band-aid off. Maybe he’ll get the hint. Maybe he’ll stop hurting you. You swallow, not knowing if you can play his game but knowing that you have to try.

“I’ll admit… When I met you I felt attracted to you.” In an attempt to seal the emotion from your voice, the tone sounds deeper, almost sultry.

He smiles like he knows he’s won you over and closes his eyes, leaning in further. He opens them promptly when you place your fingers to his lips and push him back.

“But then I met the real you. Pompous. Arrogant. Shallow. Narcissistic. You think you’re God’s gift to women, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You play with people just because you can, like a boy who never grew up. So, let me be clear. I know what I want and it’s not you. I will never want someone like you. Go back to the noisy side and you might find someone who does.”

He doesn’t make a sound as he pulls away, hands sliding off you entirely until they’re hanging over his own thighs. You can feel your lip quivering but if he sees it he doesn’t mention it as he leans back in his seat and pokes his tongue into his cheek. There’s too many emotions coursing through your own brain to properly read his expression. Any guess you might make would be tainted by your hopes and subsequent disappointment. It’s gone as soon as you blink.

“The noisy side is fun too. Thanks for the orange,” he says, flashing you a toothy grin that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle as he casually strolls away.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Twenty minutes have passed and the sting of your words remain. He tilts his head back and downs another shot, setting the empty glass down the bar counter before disappearing into the crowd. For twenty minutes he’s been telling himself he’s unbothered by your comments whilst thinking of nothing else.

I will never want someone like you.

Not the first time he’s heard that one, but it has been a while since he’s elicited such a negative response from someone. How could you say that with such malice? It’s not like you have any reason to sing his praises, but he wonders how low he’s become in your eyes.

You think you know me so well, he thinks as he tightens his jaw, trying to focus on any of the warm bodies darting in and out of his periphery.

The more he thinks about it, the more annoyance becomes a prominent figure in the forefront of his mind. He’s bothered by the fact that he’s bothered, but maybe that’s because he realizes now that you’re not hanging around Namjoon to try and get closer to any one of them with malicious intent. So what do you want? Do you really just want friends? It’s hard to believe his assumptions were the ones that were wrong, but it seems pretty clear now; you’re not using his friends at all. You just stumbled into this family like a graceless clutz with your jokes, your wit, your kindness, your… nerdiness.

It’s infuriating just how likeable you are. How was he supposed to know that you weren’t putting on a front? It’s hard to find genuine people in this fucked up world and he’s done his best to barricade himself within the ones he’s found. Skepticism has been his guardian; it’s protected his friends from those who would use them and it’s kept the rest of the world a safe distance away. But here you are again making him question himself. It’s annoying.

Navigating past writhing, sweaty bodies, Jungkook dons a scowl and looks around for his friends as he tries to push down his feelings of irritation. He’s hoping to find Namjoon on the outskirts of the dancefloor when he spots Seokjin and Taehyung laughing across the way. He feels his body relax a little and he breathes a sigh of relief, knowing a distraction for his mind is imminent. Just as he’s about to be free of the crowd, there’s a body colliding with his. Lean, tattooed fingers reach out to steady the girl around the waist. She’s already apologizing for her partner’s lack of skill as she turns around.

Agitation dissipates in an instant as he comes face to face with your now wide-eyed friend, Jennie. Maybe she’s exactly what he needs right now.

“You don’t have to throw yourself at me like this you know.” He grins, already moving his hips to the music. “Wanna dance?”

She closes her eyes for just a second, letting her hips sway beneath his palms to the beat. It’s then she catches herself and slaps his hands from her hips. “I’m already dancing with someone else, thanks.”

Jungkook’s expression sours as she turns away from him to look for her dance partner, grumbling how Jungkook scared him off. Am I just completely off my game tonight? What is wrong with me?

He sighs and makes his way towards his friends, hoping sharing some drinks with them will lead to a lift in his mood. He spares a glance up to the glass separating the lounge from the club. You’re fixated on your phone, leg bouncing anxiously back and forth and he finds himself wondering what could possibly be so enthralling, so nerve-wracking that you’ve already downed most of your next drink. He rolls his eyes. You’ve consumed enough of his thoughts for the evening. Whatever the cause, he can’t be the solution. You’ve made that much clear.

Jungkook drapes his arms around both of his friends, interrupting whatever conversation they’re in the middle of. “I’m bored!”

Seokjin blinks rapidly in disbelief. “What’s this? You’re alive?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, reaching his palm down to tweak Seokjin’s nipple through his shirt, causing him to shriek and shy away from him.

“What? You disappeared so suddenly I assumed you must have been lured to your death by a pretty face!” he argues, rubbing his palm over the tender spot on his chest and maintaining a fair distance from his friend.

Jungkook scoffs, poking a finger in his ear and blocking out his elder’s words before turning to Taehyung. “Tae, you up for a game? First to five?”

Taehyung sucks his teeth and gives the room a once over. “Dances? Kisses?”

“Numbers.” Jungkook declares. “She has to text you first and you have to show proof.”

He raises his eyebrows and laughs. Deciding he could use the confidence boost, he nods. “Yeah, I think I could do that.” He turns his gaze on Seokjin. “You in?”

Seokjin’s sour expression morphs into a wicked grin. “I’ve got nothing better to do. Should I see if anyone else is game?”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and laughs. “You think you can keep up, old man?”

Seokjin moves in to pinch Jungkook’s arm and quickly backs away before he can retaliate. “I’ll show you how a real man woos a woman.”

“Let’s get a round first,” Taehyung suggests, already making his way to the bar.

Jungkook takes out his phone with a grin, sending a group text announcing the start of tonight’s shenanigans. He makes sure to include you.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Namjoon thrusts the water towards you. “Drink.”

You know you should. That last Tequila Sunrise went down way too easy and you’re starting to sweat just sitting here. You attempt to shimmy your hoodie off while maintaining a death grip on your phone. It doesn’t go well.

“Joonie,” you pout.

He pries your phone from your sweaty hands, allowing you to free yourself from your sweaty confines.

“You get this back when you drink some of that,” he argues, pointing to the glass of water. He grabs a french fry off the plate he ordered for you both to share. “Eat some of these, too.”

He talks while sucking in air between his teeth, as if to cool the hot potato scalding his mouth. “Hot! sssch-Hot!” He promptly spits half of the fry back into his hand. “Uhhh, maybe wait a sec though.”

“What? Is it like, hot?” you ask in the most valley girl voice you can muster. You offer him a napkin with a giggle. “You’re a mess, Professor Kim.”

He sheepishly takes it from you, disposing of his half-chewed food before grumbling, “Geeksquad, I swear—”

You simply take a fry from the plate and nibble at it with a smug grin, quickly moving onto the water he provided you. The pair of you sit together in silence for a minute, carefully picking at the plate of fries. Once you’ve sucked down more than half the glass of water you reach your hand out in a grabbing motion.

“You shouldn’t have to try so hard,” he says, handing over your phone

“But I like him,” you counter, mouth full and licking the salt from your fingers.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I wanna know why this guy keeps putting off meeting up.”

“Maybe he’s nervous, too.” You shrug, scrolling through your missed messages.

It’s a painfully short catch-up session and your heart sinks at the realization that he’s not doing anything to keep the conversation alive. You place the half-eaten fry currently in your hand back on the plate, appetite completely dissolved along with your hopes.

“I want another drink,” you mumble, staring down at the screen.

“What did he say?” Namjoon asks, scooting his seat closer to yours so he can read the conversation and you let him.

“Nothing… Nothing and that’s the problem,” you admit, feeling a sting at your eyes.

Nononono not my makeup. You dab at the inside corners of your eyes and swipe your fingertips along the edge to clear the tears before they fall.

“How am I supposed to go on a date with him if he won’t talk to me? I feel like I always have to initiate and keep it going and compliment him. It’s exhausting. Does he even like me? Why did he swipe on me?”

“I think he likes you… But it does seem like you’re carrying the conversation,” he admits, scrolling through the messages. “He might be more introverted than you… Or he’s keeping his options open.”

There. He said it so you don’t have to. You’re not sure if you hate him or love him for it. You lean back against your seat and look forlornly at the plate of fries. Most people your age don’t have reservations about seeing more than one person at a time, so why is it so hard for you to do? Jason is your only prospect and it’s exhausting even trying to manage that much. You can’t imagine having several other conversations happening simultaneously.

“So what do I do?”

“Put Jason on the backburner.” He presses the power button on your phone, the screen going black before he taps on your glass. “You finish your water, eat some more fries, and come dance with me.”

“I dance like a fool,” you remind him. “You really wanna be embarrassed?”

“We’ll both dance like fools then,” he says while filling his mouth with fries. “Come on. Don’t just watch me eat.”

You oblige him with a grin, matching the amount he’s stuffed his face with and laughing at each other’s puffed cheeks. Both of your phones buzz against the tabletop in unison and you exchange a curious look before checking your messages.

JUNGKOOK: numbers game JUNKGOOK: first to collect five wins JUNGKOOK: person has to text you as proof

You cringe and fire back a text to let everyone know you were included on a group text you definitely wish you weren’t.

YOU: ew JUNGKOOK: oh sorry princess must have included you by accident 🥴🥴🥴  JIN: You can play if you want! I can be your wingman. Together we will take down the maknae JUNGKOOK: lol JUNGKOOK: i guess you can practice flirting 😏 TAEHYUNG: Buying a round first JIMIN: 😱Coming!!\ HOBI: 😈 JUNGKOOK: Joon Yoongi in or out

You quirk an eyebrow at Namjoon. “Do this often?”

He shifts uncomfortably, visibly wilting under your gaze. “I mean, sometimes it’s fun to get drunk and flirt.” He grabs his beer and polishes off the last of it while texting back a response. “Judging me, Geeksquad?”

BUZZ. BUZZ.

NAMJOON: Gimme a minute.

You roll your eyes and grin. “No more than you judge me.”

“So a lot then. Got it.” He laughs.

You hum in contemplation as your fingers tap against the screen.

YOU: im in if you buy me a shot

The texts come through all at once, filling you with regret.

HOBI: COME GET IT JIMIN: Okay!! 🥰 TAEHYUNG: Coming up YOU: I was talking to the party leader YOU: please don’t buy me multiple shots JUNGKOOK: wooooooooow okaaaay JIMIN: Don’t worry I will drink what you can’t 😂

Namjoon is already laughing. “You did that to yourself.”

“I just want to beat him at his own game,” you grumble. “I think I’m just addicted to wiping that stupid smug ass grin off his face.”

“You know what I think?” He points a fry at you accusingly, waving it in your face before it breaks half, the errant piece falling into your lap. “I think you guys should date. You would make a cute couple.”

Your nose crinkles in response and you glare at him.

“Kidding, kidding….” He laughs when you lightly smack his arm. “At least you guys are talking again.”

You grimace, remembering your earlier conversation with Jungkook. The more you think about it, the more a sense of dread grows deep within your chest. You feel terrible about the things you said. You meant them at the time but now you just feel guilty because replaying them in your head sounds cruel. It’s not that you don’t want to fix things— you do. 

Last week showed you he’s capable of some semblance of kindness. You thought maybe you could press the reset button on your whole friendship if he ever nutted up and apologized, but he’s only dug himself into a deeper hole since then. Every time you think you’re about to move past it, he does something that causes that anger to flare within you.

You sigh. “He gets under my skin, Joon. I don’t think I’ve ever been so mean to someone before. Ever. I wanna knock his teeth out of his skull.”

He chuckles. “I know… And I know it’s hard to believe but he’s a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

“Must be buried deep down,” you snort, finishing off your water, “if ‘sorry’ is too hard of a word for him to say.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows and nods. “That’s fair. I’m not going to make excuses for him or tell you to forgive him. He can be an ass. He has been an ass to you. All I’m gonna say is that we all have flaws. We all have defence mechanisms that seem logical to our own brains based on our experiences… our feelings… our trauma. We all got issues. Say what you want, but you’re not exactly an open book, Geeksquad.”

When you look like you’re about to object to that statement, he cuts you off. “Just listen.” He lines up the salt and pepper shakers on either side of the vertical menu standing in the middle of the table. “You got two closed off people like this. They complement each other pretty well but there’s this wall between them, right?”

“Tch. Namjoon…” you scoff. It takes everything you have to hold back the smile curling the corners of your mouth. “Are you calling me… salty?”

He rolls his eyes and cringes with a grumble. “Like talking to Jin sometimes, I swear… Look. There’s a door on the side right over here. And here.” He points to both sides of the menu with a fork and a spoon. “But they’re both too busy yelling over this wall, mishearing every other word. They’re forming assumptions about the other without ever having a conversation like civilized people face to face. But if either one walked a little bit, they might see something more than they previously imagined.”

“Hmm,” is all you manage to answer, biting your tongue to prevent you from speaking any further on the subject. “I finished my water, mom. Are you done playing with the table’s accoutrements?”

He snorts, dropping the utensils. After stuffing one last fry in his mouth he wipes his hands on his jeans. “Alright you know what I gave you my hot take. Do what you want.”

“What I want is to show this guy how it’s done,” you huff.

“How? We’ve all seen you dirty talk your cup like you’ve never seen porn in your life,” he jokes.

“I’ll be fine. I don’t have to win. I just have to beat Jungkook. That is my only goal. Besides, I can be charming in my own way Joonie,” you argue, grabbing a handful of french fries. “I have… finesse.”

In fate’s comical stroke of irony you fumble some of the fries on the way to your mouth, like one does when inebriated. You shamelessly fish one from your cleavage, moving your breasts around and inspecting the space between to ensure nothing is trapped in your bra. You look back up at him with a sheepish grin and pop the fry into your mouth.

He drops his forehead into his hands. “Yeah, sure. Finesse.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Something you’ve learned about yourself in the last forty minutes is that you are terrible at this. It sounded like a great idea to enter this competition but you should have known better. You don’t even talk to people you like. Why did you volunteer to talk to absolute strangers? Anxiety swells inside your belly like a balloon, mixing with the alcohol you’ve continued to consume within this time and creating a sloshy mess that makes you contemplate your existence.

For the first ten minutes you struggled with the internal conflict that is approaching a human being. What if they are absolutely out of your league and smite you on the spot with rejection? Mortification seems a fate worse than death far too often. You wish the ground would do you a solid and dissolve into liquid. Then you could just dive in and majestically doggie-paddle away from your problems.

Once you gathered enough courage to engage someone in conversation you were so nervous that you lost your balance, accidentally knocked his drink from his hand, and he promptly excused himself. You haven’t seen him since. The next one didn’t go much better. Stammering and stuttering over your words is about the least sexy thing you could do while trying to be smooth. You excused yourself from that one.

The last one you came down with a case of the hiccups mid-introduction, appearing far more inebriated than you are– at least more than you think you are. That guy raised his eyebrows at you and laughed. He fucking laughed in your face. What little confidence you had at the start of this event has quickly shattered into a thousand shards of self-loathing, each one picking a different part of your body to critique and pin to your brain like a bulletin board of shame.

You lean your elbows on the bar and spread your fingers out against your forehead, looking down at your cup. You wish Jennie was here to get the numbers for you. She would excel at what seems a hopeless task for you. A check-in text revealed she is safe and still having fun with some guy who is apparently “awesome.”

You haven’t seen her all night and you don’t feel like interrupting whatever fun she’s having with Mr. Awesome just to settle your petty squabble with Jungkook. At some point you have to take care of your problems on your own. Maybe you just need to face the fact that he’s going to completely destroy you in this pointless competition.

Have some humility, you tell yourself. It’s okay to suck at things.

It seems far from okay, even though you know it absolutely does not matter. The tears are already building behind your eyes and you’re not quite sure why, but it probably has something to do with the bubble of anxiety slowly creeping up your throat. You swallow, feeling it form a knot and clog the passage at the acknowledgement of its existence.

The guilt over your conversation with Jungkook remains a steady source of the anxiety that gnaws at the corners of your mind, telling you that you should apologize for your harsh words. He hasn’t said anything about it or given any indication that he’s bothered. After all, it was the truth wasn’t it? But the words sit in your mind, heavy in their cruelty. Have you become the person who says hurtful things in the face of adversity, who lets their emotions twist them into someone they never wanted to become? All of the embarrassment and rejection are extra layers that inflate the bubble in your throat.

You push the remainder of your drink away from you as you stand, looking around with a tearful pout. There’s enough light to scan the vicinity for the faces of your friends but you come up empty. It dawns on you for the first time how badly you have to pee so you make your way to the bathroom, relieved that there doesn’t seem to be a line of women holding the door open for one another.

As soon as you’ve passed the threshold of the heavy door the tears freely stream down your face. Your vision blurs with the rising heat in your cheeks. There are a group of women huddled around the sinks and mirrors and they all look up to watch you stumble towards one of the stalls with your hands out for balance. You can’t see their faces through your tears but you know they turn their attention towards you, voices falling into a hushed whisper.

Some of their outfits cast an ill-defined shimmer in the light of the restroom and your gut sinks, knowing they’re probably dressed in beautiful clothes you could never have the confidence to wear yourself. You quickly cast your gaze to the shiny tiles at your feet, the silver glitter embedded in the swirled white marble giving you something to focus on as you pray they’ll be gone by the time you come out.

When you emerge from the stall you stand at the sink, vigorously washing your hands and wiping your eyes with your wet knuckles before bringing your face down low enough to splash and clean.

“Hey…” A soft voice makes you look up from the sink, water dripping from your hair, down your forehead and into your red, puffy eyes. “Are you okay?”

You sniffle and blink a few times as one of them hands you a couple paper towels. Embarrassed, you wipe your face and slowly let yourself focus on the group. There are four of them and, as you suspected, they are all fucking gorgeous. Two of them have long black hair that dances over the skin of their shoulders with each swaying movement. One is wearing a blinding red-sequined dress and reaching down to adjust the strap of her heel. The other dons a flowing white dress that exposes her shoulders, the modest look complemented with knee high boots that could captivate anyone’s attention.

The third girl has her brown hair tied up in a tight ponytail away from her face, playful bangs just barely hiding her eyebrows. She looks so sophisticated in her simplistic black wrap dress. You wish you could look as half as beautiful as she does. The one closest to you has long blonde hair styled in waves that frames her face perfectly. Her makeup is absolutely flawless. She must have just touched it up. Looking at the white crop top and matching white jeans, you’re astonished to find she hasn’t spilled or wiped anything off on herself.

Are they as drunk as you are? You surmise they might be as you look from their outfits to their expressions. The way they frown and attempt to comfort you with misty, compassionate eyes has fresh tears spilling down the contours of your face.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you choke out, wiping at your cheeks.

“That’s okay!” the one in red says, stumbling towards the blonde as she attempts to remove the shoe strapped to her foot. The other two catch her before she smacks against her backside. She wears a sheepish grin and takes off the other shoe through hissed teeth. “Ah! Better! Nobody knows anything for sure, if you think about it!”

She waves her strappy heels in her hands as if that proves some deep wisdom she’s trying to demonstrate.

“What’s wrong?” the blonde asks, ignoring her friend as she cocks her head to the side.

“I tried to get back at him. He made me think he was one way and then he wasn’t. He’s a jerk!” You hiccup, as though these women already know your history with the person consuming your thoughts. “I want to get over it but he never even— he didn’t even— not once— he-he didn’t say sorry.”

The four girls huddle against each other, nodding as they listen to your rambling as though it’s a sermon worth extracting a lesson from.

“So then tonight I blew up and I was like, hey you’re a dick and I liked you but that’s over because who could love you? And I was like, oh no I was too mean! And I was about to apologize. But then-but then he wanted to play a game with his friends and he sent it to me too. Collecting numbers. And I was like, no! You know what? I’m gonna play and beat you because fuck you, Jungkook. And now I feel so… stupid be-because… I can’t do it! And he knew it. He’s right.”

You start to sob and the girls begin to make a fuss, all talking over each other to try and quell your tears.

“No no no! Honey, you can do it!”

“What is it?”

“Don’t cry!”

“Fuck Jungkook!”

“Look. There’s no man on this earth ruining your makeup over,” the blonde says, grabbing another paper towel and running it under the water.

“Unless it’s a really good blowjob.” The woman in red grins from ear-to-ear, unashamed of her boldness.

“Oh my god, Joy.”

“Sounds like some fuckboy shit.” The woman in the black dress crosses her arms, tapping her fingers on her elbow as she stands up straight. “Okay, how do we beat him?”

Brow furrowed, you look at her as though she’s grown another head. “I can’t. I tried to get numbers and I just made a fool of myself.” You hiccup. “I swear I’m not even that drunk. I’m just horrible at talking to people and I get so nervous that I–” Your lip quivers and you grimace, knowing your face is scrunched up into ugly-cry mode. “I freeze. And that’s probably why… why…”

“Hey, no more of that, babe,” the blond says, dabbing at your smudged eyeshadow and seeing if she can salvage any of the liner you had been wearing. “We’re gonna get you back out there and help you win. You gotta be your most fabulous self when you get to throw it in his face.”

“Getting numbers…” The woman with the heels in her hands leans on the others. “Any ideas?”

“What if we just give you ours?” The woman in the white dress smiles at you and comfort floods your senses. “Is he really gonna check to see if we’re men? Does that even matter?”

You struggle to blink and look at them all through the blonde’s constant dabbing above and around your eyes. “I need to have five numbers text me first. That’s all they said when they were going over the rules.”

You give the one in black your number first and she smiles. “I’m gonna text someone to help if they end up calling any one of us. My brother is here with his friends. He’s a shit, but he’ll help me out if I ask with minimal questions. Oh, I’m Seulgi by the way. You can put me down as any name you like.”

You feel your phone buzz twice. Great. Think of fake guy names. I can’t even think of a story how I might have charmed these ‘guys.’

As if reading your mind, she continues on, “Or you can just use the names of his friends. This is Joy, Irene, and Chungha.”

The two of them wave at you and the blonde smiles. “He sounds like he’s the worst. He’s gonna be so pissed you got numbers faster than him. It’ll be great.”

The contact Seulgi pulls up next makes you stare at the label as the Chungha wipes lines down your nose and chin. It reads: [DAMN BROTHER].

“Th-Thank you…” You sigh in disbelief. “You guys are the nicest people I know. I’m gonna cry.”

“Don’t.” Chungha laughs. “I just fixed your makeup. How much time do you have? We wanna make this believable.”

You fish the mobile device out of your back pocket and scan through your group chat. “Looks like most of them are still at two or less.”

“Still got a shot then,” Seulgi comments with a grin. She’s clearly the most sober in the group. “We’ll space it out every ten to fifteen minutes or so. Seem reasonable?”

How do you thank these strangers? You are truly at a loss for words. A small nod and a wide grin is all you can manage.

“Do you wanna dance to kill some time?” Joy asks with a giggle.

“You should sit down and drink some water,” Irene chides. “Or someone will step on your toes.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

After drinking water and conversing with your newfound friends for some amount of time, you’ve almost forgotten about the game. Seulgi’s brother and his friends have joined your booth and you have to admit that although strangely cozy it’s socially draining. It’s not until Chungha nudges you to check your phone that you find more than a few of your competitors have reached their fourth achievement. You quickly text that you have the number you need and that you can keep going if they really want you to. The responses start pouring in, a mixture of confused and surprised. In Jungkook’s case, he calls bullshit and asks everyone to meet back up where they started: the bar.

Although you rise from the booth on steadier legs and hold a clearer mind, suddenly you’re feeling nervous. Your new friends assure you that no matter what they have your back. They all toss their cellphones on the table in a circle.

Chungha starts writing down names on napkins and matching them up with the devices. “If any of them ring we will make sure someone answers.”

After exchanging hugs with all of the girls, you make your slow descent down the stairs. Namjoon and Seokjin are already waiting for you at the bar.

“Oh! Y/N, my friend! You had me fooled!” Seokjin slaps his hand around your back, squeezing you towards the broad expanse of his chest. You take a few seconds to yourself, trying to remember how to breathe.

“How the hell…?” Namjoon asks the open-ended question with a big smile and you respond with a goofy one of your own.

“Uh-ehhehehh. Well…” You scratch your cheek and sheepishly present your phone. “I was told my failure to communicate effectively was charming in its own way.”

Namjoon quirks a brow at you and snorts. “Eloquent. Been drinking water, huh?” He drapes your hoodie around your shoulder. “Here. You forgot this earlier.”

You’re about to thank him when the rest of the group huddles in around you.

“Where’s Yoongi?” you ask, avoiding the glare Jungkook is throwing your way.

Hoseok is scrolling through his phone. “Hmm… Oh, he texted me. He’s…” He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Busy.”

You raise a brow at the tone of his statement but don’t get a chance to ask what he means because Jungkook is already tapping your shoulder.

“I want to see your numbers,” he whines. “I don’t believe this.”

You’re annoyed but it’s not like you can fault the skepticism in his tone. While you didn’t burst into panic mode tonight, you’re pretty sure it’s because you were too drunk to spiral into a pit of despair over your embarrassment. Maybe you can find comfort in that while Jungkook scrutinizes your messages.

You can see his jaw tighten and shift from side to side. As his tongue pokes harder into his cheek with each new message he opens, you bite down on your lip to keep yourself from laughing. He forces a smile as Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok all crowd around him to peer down at the screen. He looks up and blinks hard. It’s hard to miss the fluttering of his lashes when he blatantly rolls his eyes.

You tilt your head to one side and smile at him sweetly. “Yes, Jungkook?”

“Looks like you won.” His tone lacks malice but even with his face partially obscured by the long hair falling across his face you can tell he’s annoyed. He sighs and raises his eyebrows, using his pinky to swipe the hair from his face. “You know, actually now that I think about it, I feel like it’s kind of unfair.”

“Here we go,” Jimin mutters, rolling his eyes. “Don’t mind him. He’s just a sore loser,” he leans in to whisper. “He does this every time someone else wins.”

“I’m just saying I feel like it might be an easier game for girls,” Jungkook says defensively.

“What? Are you kidding me?” You nearly lunge for him in your fury. “Why is it easier? Because guys prey on girls all the time? Especially the ones who are drunk and vulnerable?”

Jungkook looks taken aback that you would jump to such an assumption. “Ah, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You don’t know how many times I messed up. It was really hard for me,” you snap, poking a finger against his chest. “I bet you didn’t have someone laugh in your face, did you?”

Nonononono don’t you fucking cry, you tell yourself, trying to hold it together.

Jungkook’s brow furrows, passing you a look that you swear is almost sympathetic. “No. I didn’t.”

You don’t need his pity. Tearing your gaze away from him, you look over your other companions. They wear uncomfortable grimaces and concerned frowns. The air between your group is heavy, charged with a palpable tension. You pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling embarrassed by your admission of one of tonight’s failed attempts.

A laugh escapes with your held breath and you shake your head. “It’s fine. Don’t look so sad for me. It went well after. It takes more than that to make me cry, you know.”

Oh no. They know. They know I lied about everything. I have to say something. I have to come clean. I’m guilty.

The cheerful pep in your tone seems to break the tension because Seokjin claps his hand around Jungkook’s shoulder and smiles. “That’s our girl!”

Maybe you’re better at lying than you give yourself credit for.

“She won fair and square. So I think she gets the prize.” Taehyung displays both sets of teeth with his charming, boxy smile.

You cock your head to one side. “Prize?”

“Winner gets dinner!” Hoseok sings as he takes your hands in his and wiggles them back and forth.

“Your choice, bought by the one who started the competition,” Namjoon chimes in.

“Why wasn’t this said at the start? I feel like I didn’t know all the rules. Maybe I don’t want that. I don’t have to eat with you right?” you ask, frowning at Jungkook.

Even when you win, you lose. You take your phone back and shove it into your back pocket.

Jungkook breaks into a cheesy grin that causes creases to form on either side of his nose. “If you want to. I know it’s tempting.”

“I make him get me something really, really good when I win,” Taehyung says, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “And then I eat it in front of him.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “But then I get a burger of my own, so does it matter?”

“Wait, what would have happened if Jungkook won?” you ask, wondering if you should have just stayed on your path of failure.

“Then the person in last place buys the winner food,” Namjoon responds simply, leaning across the bar to order another drink.

Oh. That’s worse.

“Congratulations, Y/N! You won your first game!” Jimin throws his arms around you and presses you tightly against his chest.

“Blipp! Achievement unlocked!” Taehyung laughs from behind him.

Jimin leans against your ear and whispers, “Oh, you smell good.”

It sends a shiver vibrating down your spine that he no doubt feels. When he pulls back to look at you, an innocent smile plays at his lips. Your mouth hangs agape as you stand there blinking stupidly at him, trying to decide if you want to look at his soft lips or enticing eyes. Who does he think he is, smiling like he hasn’t caused a short circuit in your brain? It’s like he gets off on it.

“Let’s dance to celebrate,” Hoseok suggests, rolling his hips dangerously close to you.

It’s then you remember there are more people in the immediate vicinity besides Jimin and yourself. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you purse your lips and compose yourself as one by one the group starts to split in two directions. Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin make their way towards the crowd of dancers. Jungkook stands there looking at you as Seokjin and Namjoon turn their attention to the bartender.

“I think I’m gonna hang here instead,” you call, eyes falling back to the muscular figure before you.

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he reluctantly shuffles towards you. You think he might be sulking until the soft tips of his fingers brush across your shoulder. “You did good. Congrats.”

He mumbles something else but you’re sure you didn’t hear him correctly. There’s no way he apologized, even in passing.

You look at Jungkook’s back as he walks away, trying your best to divert your traitorous eyes from wandering down towards his ass. You sigh and rub at your temple with your fingers. It felt okay. Why didn’t it feel great? As you turn your attention towards the bar your eyes pause on a familiar face staring back at you. Long blond hair frames her amused features as she leans back in her seat, sipping on a cosmo.

“Boys are dumb.” Chungha laughs, placing her drink back on the bar just as the bartender places a glass of water next to it. She drops her lime wedge into the water and offers it to you. “Wanna drink, babe?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You’re glad you made the switch to water hours ago. Seesaw is only a few blocks from your apartment so you might actually be able to save money and walk home tonight. Chungha has been talking your ear off about her stressful job but it’s not like you mind letting her dominate the conversation. It’s kind of nice to listen, especially when your energy is dipping. You smile at the bartender when he takes both your empty glasses away and a flash catches your eye from across the bar. There’s a girl posing for selfies with someone.

She must not have liked the first photo because her hand goes up and there’s another flash that distracts you from the way Chungha excuses herself and promises to come right back. You rest your chin on your palm and watch another pair of hands wrap around her waist. They slowly travel across her hips and as they travel lower you can see the tattooed expanse of his meaty biceps. She starts giggling and reaching back to pull her companion forward and your stomach sinks like someone’s tossed a heavy boulder in it. Jungkook’s long hair brushes against her cheek as he nuzzles into her neck.

Your jaw tightens as you watch, eyes refusing to leave the sight of him kissing up her neck. She turns towards him and pulls him to her lips as his hand flies up to cradle her jaw. Why does the sight make you feel so sick? Why can’t you look away? Maybe he can feel you staring or maybe it’s just coincidence, but fate is cruel. His eyelids flutter open and meet yours across the bar even as his companion is shoving her tongue into his mouth. Your mouth goes dry and the stone in your stomach breaks into a thousand shards that poke holes into your chest. Pins and needles threaten to pop your lungs like balloons as anxiety inflates your chest.

His brows are furrowed, concentrated as he keeps his gaze on you and continues kissing her. Those eyes staring back at you are dark and hungry, something you’re not quite used to seeing even through his fuckboy antics. They’re taunting, goading you to say something, to do something. You can’t help but think for a moment that maybe he’s looking at you because he wants it to be you. He wants you to see what you’re missing. It’s like he’s pleading for you to take her place.

Or maybe your delusional brain is creating a fantasy based on lack of romantic interaction.

Chungha scrapes her chair across the floor, causing you to jump and force your eyes away, but she’s smart. She follows where your eyes had been, watching Jungkook switch to pretending to be invested in his partner and occasionally darting his eyes back to you.

“Hey, isn’t that… Douche guy over there?”

“What? Is it? Psshft.” Your attempts at nonchalance are pathetic and you both know it, but you still continue on anyway. “Wow he’s just… making out. Over there. At the bar. Huh. Wow. That’s a lot of… tongue. Don’t you think he should like… move it back somewhere private?”

“He keeps looking at you.” She scoffs. “You know what? I think he’s trying to make you jealous.”

“What? Why? He doesn’t even like me,” you try to reason, not wanting to let hope bubble in your belly.

“Well, you told him off earlier, right? He definitely seems like the kind of guy that wants what he can’t have as soon as he hears he can’t have it. It’s a game to him.” She laughs as she watches you watch him. “It’s working isn’t it?”

“I wish I knew how to beat him at this game,” you say, catching his eyes and noting the satisfied smirk on his lips as he brings them back to his girl.

“I have an idea.” Chungha wears an impish smile as she cradles your jaw with delicate fingers, bringing your gaze back to her. “But only if you’re okay with it. ”

Your heart skips a beat as she carefully watches your expression. You nod, blinking a few times in surprise. “Y-Yes.”

“Is he looking?” she asks, brushing her fingers through your hair.

You’re so focused on her flawless makeup application and how good it feels to have someone’s fingers roaming through your hair that you almost forget to look. “Mmm-uhhh…… Yeah. Yeah, yup. He is.”

She laughs, sliding her hand over the back of your neck and closing the distance between you. Her lips are soft and instinctually you close your eyes, losing yourself in the kiss for a moment. It’s been a long time and it feels just as good to kiss someone as you remember. Your eyes snap open and you look across the bar to find Jungkook’s jaw completely slack. His eyes are wide with the image of the pair of you burned into the backs of his retinas. His arms have fallen limp against his companion and she takes the time to drunkenly nip at his lip and do all the work herself.

Not wanting to waste an opportunity to taunt him back, you deepen the kiss and grab the sides of her head, sliding your fingers through her silky blond locks. You ensure your tongues visibly slide against one another for the show you now know he’s watching. When you pull back you gently suck her bottom lip through your teeth, hoping Jungkook feels the exact same way you felt watching him.

“Did we get him?” she asks with a shy smile and embarrassed giggle.

You savor the look of blatant amazement on Jungkook’s face. You completely forget how embarrassed you would normally be in such a circumstance and you laugh. “Oh yeah. We got him good. Wow, thank you so much. The look on his face is priceless.”

“What the fuck.”

The familiar breathless whisper has you looking past Chungha at Namjoon. He’s holding a handful of nachos loaded with toppings at the halfway point between the plate and his mouth, which is hanging agape. All of the toppings on his chip fall to the bar with a splat.

Seokjin pokes his head from around Namjoon’s hulking form. “Wow, I love this bar. Let’s come back often.”