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amourtoken · 4 months ago

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I will be the brave soldier that tackles this concept that others may be too afraid to tackle 🫡

I was gonna do one big post for the whole group but the Noah part took over so I'll split it into individual parts for you. Here's some stepbro Noah for you 💀

Anyway let's get into it I feel like im virtually stalling lol. Apologies if this is insanely long it may or may not be the longest thing I've ever written so forgive me if it's rambley or not that great.

CW: stepcest, mean/annoying ass Noah, oral (M receiving), dacryphilia, choking, spit, belly bulge, raw sex, facials, squirting, fingering, nipple play, mentions of breeding, Dom Noah ftw always, oral fixation, slapping (just in general, face and pussy yk), and if I missed any others pls let me know

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

♡ The day Noah moved in to your dad's house was the worst day of your life unbeknownst to you at the time. He seemed tolerable at first but it took zero time for him to become a raging asshole that lived to torment you it seemed. He always blasts music late at night, is constantly yelling while playing video games with those obnoxious ass friends of his that like to come over and somehow act even more unbearable and he has the audacity to walk around YOUR house like he owns the place when he's only been here for a few months. What a cunt.

♡ Noah loves teasing you as well. He's got a couple years on you and is SUBSTANTIALLY larger than you so somewhere in the back of his mind he feels like you're easy to manipulate and manhandle the shit out of cause he's older, bigger, stronger, ect. He likes the way your voice pitches up in a yelp when he walks by and smacks your ass hard enough to bruise, he couldn't resist, not while you had those little shorts on. He also doesn't think twice abt it being "weird" or anything, he really doesn't even see you as a relative at this point, you're both grown and you've known eachother for like 6 months at the most. The fact his mom wanted to bang your dad has no effect on his life aside from the fact he had to up and move to your city.

♡ every time your parents give you two the house alone, it usually goes one of two ways. Either Noah invites those previously mentioned friends over and you get to listen to them practicing new songs in your living room until your head throbs from the volume or Noah invites some random tinder girl over to fuck half to death while you get the pleasure of listening to it through the thin wall that seperates your rooms. You've done everything to muffle the noise, but the incessant rhythmic slamming of his headboard right against the wall is similar to water torture. If you didn't care about privacy (unlike him, he frequently throws your bedroom door open while you're changing or walks in on you fresh out of the shower) you'd storm into his room and tell him to shut the fuck up but unfortunately you're a nicer person than he is so you suffer for a while longer.

♡ you end up confronting him the next night while he's on a game with his friends (again being eye twitching levels of loud and annoying). You had the decency to knock but when he opens the door he's got his hair tied up halfway, shirtless, and shorts sitting so fucking low on his hips you can see the light trail of hair that runs up his lower stomach to his navel. You hate that he's your type because shouldn't that be weird? He's your step brother, that has to be weird right?

"Yknow if you take a picture it'll last longer, right? My eyes are up here."

♡ Noah apparently clocked your staring and he has this stupid smug grin on his face that you hate. Ultimately how can he be upset for you staring at him when his eyes are always glued to your tits or ass whenever he has the chance?? He has no shame. It's not that he's upset at you, but he knows deep down you're fighting something he gave into ages ago, and he's got you wrapped around his finger whether you like it or not. You can't stand him, or is it that you want to hate him so you don't have to admit your other feelings?

"Can I help you or are you just gonna keep staring at my cock? I'm kinda fucking busy."

♡ he's always been this brash and it still somehow shocks you every time. You hate he's not really wrong, you wouldn't have been looking if his dick didn't leave a scarily large print in those shorts he was wearing. No wonder all those girls he brings over are so fucking loud. You didn't realize you still hadn't said what you came over to say, it felt like your voice was trapped in your throat especially when you looked up at him and those pretty brown eyes of his. God you fucking hate him, you hate that you're jealous of everyone that gets to spend time with him and all of those girls he's brought over to fuck and never say a word to again. He's an asshole but fuck if he isn't a pretty one. You feel like this is wrong but everything about him is wrong so what's new.

"If you want a taste you can just ask."

"Come on baby don't act like you don't think about me how I think about you. I've heard you playing with that little pussy and whining my name before, so you can't really fake hating me now, huh?"

♡ you're literally standing in his doorway dumbfounded at this point. He knew? Oh.

"Bet I could fuck that uptight attitude out of you. Maybe that's all you need, some good dick."

oh!

He shifts from where he's leaning against the doorframe to palm himself through his shorts and your heart feels like it's actually trying to escape your ribcage. Is this even real??? You came over here to bitch at him for being a loud inconsiderate asshole and he's trying to fuck you? Why doesn't he feel like this is wrong, why don't you feel like this is wrong? Why do you have this childish crush on your literal stepbrother? You feel dizzy. Noah has you right where he wants you though, he's been onto you the whole time and he could've just been nicer to you but who doesn't love a good hatefuck? He figured if he broke you down enough he could build you back up into the perfect little in home cock sleeve he knew you really wanted to be. He's fucking gross I need him but he's not wrong, is he?

♡ your eyes flit down from his eyes to his hand that's wrapped around his clothed cock again and you thought your knees would give out. How does that even fit inside anyone?? No wonder his dates sound like they're in a slasher film, they probably feel like they're getting split down the middle. You don't have much more time to think cause he's pulling you into his room and forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

"You're so much nicer when you're not bitching at me for fucking everything. Always wanted to fuck that pretty mouth of yours anyway, can't talk with your mouth full can you?"

Noah laces a large tattooed hand through the hair at the back of your head and you wince at the sting. You feel like your brain is just empty now, honestly this whole thing feels so much like a dream you're not fully convinced it's real, that you're actually letting your stepbrother smear precum on your lips with the tip of his big cock. It's even more threatening when it's not straining against his shorts, the tip is a pretty pink and there's a big thick vein running up the underside. You can't even fit your hand around it entirely, and you're so wet over it you're sure you can see through your pajama pants.

"Open."

♡ you do as you're told and Noah tugs your hair a little more to angle your head back. He's clouded up your brain so much you barely react when he spits directly onto your tongue, reaching to smear the mess around with 2 of his long fingers. You're looking up at him with big puppy eyes that water pathetically when he slides those two fingers down your throat, thrusting them in and out deeper each time to see how well you take him. He laughs when you gag and your eyes water as he sinks his fingers as deep as he can get them, you're such a fucking mess it's pathetic but that's exactly what's making his cock twitch. You're exactly how he needs you.

"gonna be a good girl for me? Let me fuck your throat and maybe I'll make you cum after if you're good."

you squeeze your thighs together to try and get some friction when he slaps his cock on your tongue, he's so fucking heavy and thick you really don't know how he expects to fit anywhere in your body let alone your mouth. Regardless, you try. You reach up to brace your hands on his tattooed thighs and focus on kissing and licking all over the tip, looking up at him when you wrap your lips around it to see his head fall back in a deep sigh. Sure he's gotten head before but something about this situation just makes him so much harder. The hand in your hair tightens and he slowly starts thrusting into your mouth, shallow at first but as you start taking more of him and it gets messy, he starts going much harder.

♡ Noah's fucking your throat so hard you have fat tears spilling down your cheeks, you're trying so hard to take him well but when he sinks in to the hilt and holds you there until you're clawing at this thighs and whimpering around his cock cause you can't breathe you can't help but pull away to catch it.

"God you're such a fucking slut."

He punctuates the phrase by landing a slap on your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you but definitely enough to sting. Normally you'd be upset but right now? Fuck you're almost begging him to do it again.

Once you catch your breath you open your mouth expectantly and he's right back to it. This time he has both hands tangled up in your hair while he's fucking your throat. Thank God no one's home cause he's not even trying to be a little quiet, deep moans and growls freely flowing from his mouth. You can't help but feel a little proud of yourself, normally you don't hear him make much noise when he's fucking whoever he's brought over but he's being pretty damn vocal right now. You can tell he's close by the way his thrusts falter and right before he cums he pulls out to paint your face. Whatever doesn't land on your tongue he gathers with his fingers and makes you suck them clean.

♡ you'd think he'd need a while to get hard again but no, he honestly didn't ever stop in the first place. Noah's dragging you up off the floor and nearly ripping your shorts down your legs and shirt off your torso immediately, he's seen you naked on "accident" but now that he really gets to look at you and feel you, fuck it's so much nicer. He steps back to admire your bare form but he can't go 3 seconds without teasing you. He runs his hands up your body to massage your tits and tease your nipples, pinching and playing with them until you're whimpering and teary eyed again.

He "apologizes" by leaning down and laving his tongue over the sensitive skin, making you arch against him and you can literally feel him smiling against your skin. He doesn't pull away before leaving a few dark hickeys on the underside of your tits, admiring his work after.

You don't get much of a break for long before he's picking you up and tossing you onto his bed. You can't help but notice it's neatly made (or was) before he drags your attention back to him by slapping his tip right against your clit, making you yelp. Apparently he liked your reaction cause he did it again, this time with his hand instead and with a little more force. Your voice broke into a whimper as he started rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers to ease the sting from the slap. He's mean but he still wants you to feel good.

"Can you say please? I wanna hear you beg for my cock before I give it to you, gotta know you really want it."

that smug look returns when his name and various pleads spill from your lips while he's sliding his fingers through the slick mess at your entrance, spreading the wetness around and dipping into you just enough to feel how tight you are around his fingers. He's reeling over the thought of how tight you'll be around his cock.

♡ like I said he's mean but he still wants you to feel good, he knows you need some kind of prep before he gets to fuck you. His free hand is slowly stroking his cock while the other is teasing your entrance, gauging your reaction. He starts with just one finger but quickly ends up fucking 3 into you, watching your back arch pathetically off the bed while he curls his fingers right up against that spot inside you that makes black spots flood your vision. You're squeezing his fingers so tight he knows you're close. The hand on his cock comes up to play with your clit and you feel like there's a literal fire lit in your belly.

"Gonna cum for me baby? It's okay, you can. Just let me make you feel good, need you see you fall apart for me."

Your legs are shaking, you're panting and squirming. It really feels like too much and right before you cum you're begging and pleading Noah to slow down cause it's just too much but he doesn't, if anything he's picking up the pace. The sound of your wetness is almost as loud as your moans for him and it only gets worse when that coil in your belly snaps and you nearly scream. You're arching off the bed and clawing at anything you can grab, you've cum before on your own but you've never felt anything this intense and sure as hell never made yourself squirt so this is a first. Noah is elated, his forearm and sheets are fucking drenched but he couldn't care less about the mess he's achingly hard at the fact he got you to squirt at all.

Noah reaches up and makes you clean your mess off his fingers, sliding them down your throat again just to feel you gag around them.

You're so sensitive and your brain is so fuzzy you can barely hold your head up, your chest rising and falling quickly while Noah sizes his length up against your tummy and groans at your size difference. His tip lands right below your navel, fuck, he's gonna demolish you. He's practically dripping like a faucet at this point and can't wait to be inside you, he's wanted this since you two fucking met. Noah leans over you to spit directly on your pussy before spreading it around with his tip and prodding at your slit, he's not even inside and you're whimpering about the stretch just from him resting against you.

"Can I hear you say please one more time, baby?"

♡ you enthusiastically answer, pleading for him to just fuck you and he takes the chance gladly. You knew the stretch was gonna be a lot but fuck when he actually sank balls deep your whole body ached. You were so fucking full it was unreal. You thought he couldn't get deeper but he crawled over you to push your knees up next to your ears and the moan you produced was pornographic. His tip was pressed right against your cervix and every time he thrust into you he knocked against it, it was painful at first but once the initial sting of the stretch wore off you've never felt better.

You swore you could feel him in your stomach he was so deep, and the sound of his hips smacking against yours was filthy. There was that familiar sound of his headboard hitting your shared wall but thankfully this time you weren't annoyed by it, if anything it drove you further.

Noah's moans started out deep in his chest but as he got closer they pitched up almost into whines, he was bucking his hips into yours like an animal in heat and his nails were sinking into your hips hard enough to bruise. He only leaned back a bit to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze, cutting your moans and whimpers into pathetic strangled sounds.

"F-fuck- fuck fuck- 'm gonna cum- so fucking hard- tell me you want it- fuck, tell me you want me to fill this pretty pussy up-"

Youd never seen or heard him so disheveled but fuck if it wasn't hot. You didn't hesitate to beg for him to cum inside you, it made his head spin at the thought. God this was wrong but he couldn't help but imagine how pretty you'd look carrying his kid either. Noah pulled back just enough to have you in normal missionary, you wondered why but when he pressed his hand on your lower stomach you figured it out pretty quick. He could feel exactly where he was inside you and was rutting against his hand through you like you were nothing more than a toy. He only stopped so he could grab your hand and have you feel as well. His dick made a noticeable bulge in your belly every time he thrust into you, and it only made you ache at the thought. He really was ruining you for anyone else.

♡ Noah slid a hand between your bodies to tease your clit while he picked up the pace of his own sloppy thrusts. He was gonna cum but he needed you to cum with him. The hand on your throat absentmindedly tightened and you were seeing black spots flood your vision already but when he sank as deep as he could possibly get and whimpered as he came you couldn't stop yourself from toppling over the same edge. You thought you'd never cum so hard in your life earlier but now? This was really it. You sank your nails into his arm hard enough to draw blood while you convulsed under him, breaking into sobs of his name while he ground his hips into yours.

Noah pulling out left you with a horrible emptiness and you almost begged him to stay for just a bit longer. He was considering it himself but his thoughts were cut short when you both heard the front door downstairs open.

Shit.

Noah nearly threw you out of bed, scrambling to pull his shorts back on. Your clothes were strewn everywhere and you didn't have time to hunt for them so you picked up the first shirt you could find off his floor and put it on before racing back to your own room. Thank God you made it quick cause Noah's cum was still dripping down your thighs.

*also just saw the rb but tagging @somebodyllelse cause I almost forgot 😭

#Nowah #noah sebastian smut #Stepbro Noah

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feyrescourt · 5 months ago

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This is a long and rambly discussion post for elriel nation btw so strap in

I want to preface this by kindly asking the elriel hive to not use any tags of #those ships if reblogged. I want to keep this in the elriel echo chamber. Please and thank u!

A huge part of fandom culture is to ship canonically compliant characters and crack ships. Everyone’s got them, and it’s totally normal, and it’s usually fun to engage with.

The majority of the time I have no issue with this (I am a wolfstar shipper and even though there is canonical evidence of them in the original HP books, they’re widely accepted online and balked at IRL usually due to homophobia and #that nasty, nasty woman’s bigotry), but over the last few years a certain group of crack shippers have taken it upon themselves to fly a little too close to the sun, and want to make it our (elriels) problem. I am talking about the Glees.

It’s late and this just popped into my head so I want to rant about it.

My friend who got me into ACOTAR gave me a breakdown of the ships (bc I read ToG first and went in blind. I became a doraelin shipper very early on and remained one halfway through QoS, it was a whole thing when I realized they were not end game lol), bc I asked her to after my ToG experience. She told me all the characters names and then told me about feysand and nessian endgames but didn’t mention az or elain’s situation. I asked her about it and she told me that she didn’t want to mention much about Az because “by the end of the series azriel has two options for how his story could go, elain or another way”. She shared some anti elain sentiment with me because she’s “boring and doesn’t do anything”. That went in one ear and out the other with me tbh.

When I started acowar, and feyre returned to the night court, I saw how elain and azriel were interacting and I concluded that mor was the second LI of az bc of acomaf. I was not apart of the fandom online at this point, so I was genuinely in the dark about everything around these two. I was just reading and talking to my friend about what I read. I also want to add that I still liked L*cien at this point in the series (it changed in acofas, I became apathetic towards him rather quickly when I finished reading that whiny ass convo with feyre…..I don’t play when it comes to her) but wasn’t sold on eluce because they had like one interaction and it wasn’t a great intro to a ship.

However this first meeting in acomaf….. :)

‘Can you truly fly?’ He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, ‘Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.’ ‘That’s very beautiful,’

“Rhys chuckled, Cassian’s wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.”

Well imagine my surprise when I finished acowar and it turns out mor (the person az has crushed on for 500 years) comes out to feyre before the book ends and she explains that she can never love az the way he loves her. After three books, and everything that happens in acowar it was clear to me that elain and azriel were being set up as each others love interests, despite the mating bond with l*cien.

After Acofas I was officially on the elriel train. I mean…

“Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below.”

“Azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants. I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.”

“But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, ‘Sit. I’ll take care of it.’ Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. ‘I—I’ll be right back,’ she murmured, and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit.”

“Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. ‘Please don’t wait on my account,’ she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.”

“He [Azriel] was the portrait of relaxed, an arm braced against the carved mantel, his wings tucked in loosely, a faint grin on his face and a glass of wine in his hand. He slid his hazel eyes toward my sister without him moving an inch.”

“Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea.”

(Damn the more I read elriel’s acofas moments the more I can’t help but conclude that they just hate/don’t understand introverts 😭)

Before I started SF, I decided to look at the online fandom and bitch……my jaw hit the floor with all the elain/elriel hate I saw on TT. And everyone was talking about a newer character in SF, and I was seeing the glee fan art and was like oh shit ok maybe elriel isn’t endgame.

Fast forward to SF……

‘What happened to Elain?’

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. Elain’s eyes brightened with pain.”

……and I’m thinking ok, az obviously likes her. Then comes az’s BC. When I finished the elriel portion of the BC I was actually crying bc I was like oh fuck I really love these two….I knew it was over for me, and I was freaked out bc I thought I was going to get got with this “new ship” involving az. Plus I was thinking about elain being left alone in the dark without any explanation and feeling like an idiot for finally showing her true feelings towards him😭. It was like 3AM when I read it so I was hyper emotional lol. But then I read the rest of the BC and was still confused because I didn’t see any romantic subtext with g/wyn. I read it and saw a hurt male who couldn’t stand what he had done to elain the night before, was pissed at his brother for stopping it and making him feel bad when he was finally willing to voice what he’s been feeling for the past year or so and hating that he was shut down because we know he never voices his emotions, and couldn’t bear keeping a gift he picked out specifically for her. A necklace…..for solstice…��Then I finished SF as a whole, and still, was confused as to why glee is a ship. Nearly all of their conversations were centered around training, and Sarah didn’t use any descriptors in their encounters that elude to any romance or mutual interest. (Btw I have a whole take on rhys’ part in that BC and I think a lot of ppl are dense and don’t understand what he was going through in that book but I can save that for another time)

Cassian and Feyre have more chemistry than those too lol.

I then talked to my friend about the these ships (elriel, eluce, and glee) ((i didn’t talk about eluce much in this post but that’s a lifeless ship too. I mean…..she can’t stand that red head anyway soooo)), and I said “I’m an elriel through and through. Idc that eluce are claimed to be mates you can tell she does not like him. also glee makes no sense to me.” Not verbatim but you get the point. My friend is very sensible so by the end of our convo, she told me that she’ll accept whatever way Sarah goes and that she’ll give elain a chance when her book comes out.

But isn’t that what all of this shit is about in the end: unjustified dislike/distain/hate for elain? That’s certainly how is appears to me. You cannot look me in the eyes and tell me that you love elain if you ship her with a male whom she has expressed, on multiple occasions, zero interest in AND becomes a shell of herself when he’s around because she just doesn’t want to interact with him. (I want to reiterate that I don’t hate L, I don’t think he’s awful or anything. elain just doesn’t want to know him. And that’s her right.) The glees don’t like her bc she doesn’t fit their stereotype for what they want in an FMC and therefore, for azriel. Which is why they have been chirping that the next book will be azriel’s. Not elain’s….WHAT??? You sound fucking crazy. The eluces (even though they claim they like her) dislike her so much that they go on and on about how she needs to grovel and apologize to the male they like because HE deserves to be happy……the same male who she associates with one of the most traumatic days of her life. Who also has not apologized to her for the part he played in that day, but I digress.

I say all that to point out that Glee specifically is in the crack ship category. No canonical evidence in the text can be used to claim they are ‘mates’ or endgame or anything more than acquaintances. And that’s fine, but don’t act as though they’re to be taken seriously as a canon ship when there’s no evidence to support it. Don’t boldly claim that azriel “has two love interests” when he literally doesn’t. He can’t sleep because of elain. He can’t stop thinking about her. He’s short with his family and others around him the days and weeks following solstice. His shadows threaten to strike nesta when she hurts elain and causes her pain. He doesn’t assign his spies to watch L*cien in acofas because he doesn’t want to know if he’s trying to court elain. He goes full lethal when he hears she may have been hurt. He follows the sound of her laugh to see what caused it. He goes on a suicide mission to save her. They communicate through looks alone when their family is around. Have you read an SJM book before? This is how she sets up her relationships. Like, holy fuck.

You cannot claim elriel is a crack ship because they have had background build up that both FMCs in their respective books have noticed and commented on. Cassian has noticed it too DESPITE not being hyper aware of what’s going on with az in SF. (referencing the scene in SF where elain tells everyone at family dinner about nesta’s love for dancing and the ball story from when they were human).

This ship war shit is fucking crazy because really this should only be between elriel nation and the eluces. Anyway, I’m over dealing with the fever dream brigade and their hallucinations. They’re going to come crashing down like Icarus when the elriel bible release day arrives and all our suffering will finally come to an end.

Then after that I’ll need to defeat the tamlin redemption arch threats, bc that is not a claim, that’s a fuckin threat and I won’t stand for it. But let’s tackle one problem at a time.

Pink: side notes/thoughts that give more context to my points

Blue italics: convos I’ve had being referenced

Purple: elriel moments <3

#this post is really just for elriel nation and my moots #crack ships should stay as such #because they are a crack ship #I refuse to use their full names ever tbh #pro elriel #elriel #the side characters will never be her main focus #she just cares about the ic #I hope there aren’t any typos lol

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educatedsimps · 6 months ago

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Can I pls request a boyfriend hc for Mattsun? 🥺🤲 one where it’s longterm like, highschool to waaaay into adulthood type of longterm.

≪ back to fics masterlist

mastukawa issei x f!reader

a/n: when i tell you i squealed reading this request ✋😭 THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING ANON! AND YES BAE I’M WRITING THIS just a word of warning tho, i’ve never written for mattsun before so i had to do a little research, hope i didn’t mess up his character 🤧 anyway i hope u like this! and thanku for reading :)

cw: i may or may not have gotten carried away, f!reader, timeskip spoilers, established rls, tooth-rotting fluff

how you got together:

probably met him in your first year of high school, and got together after becoming really close friends

you made friends with hanamaki first because you were classmates, then one day he invited you to study together with his friends and that's when he introduced you to mattsun

you realised you shared a lot of classes with mattsun and you just clicked once you started talking

of course, you got acquainted with oikawa and iwaizumi as well

you had a group chat with makki and mattsun, and the latter often texted you after school and after practice

you had similar interests and music tastes and stuff (and of course enjoyed teasing oikawa together)

you and mattsun also started studying together (probably tutored each other in some subjects too)

the both of you started catching feelings as you grew closer and by the time you were halfway through your second year, the two of you had FATTEST crushes on each other bUT NEITHER OF YOU DID ANYTHING ABOUT IT AHJKDHSK i swear it pissed your friends off so much

anyway, makki and oikawa made a bet with mattsun in year 2, in which mattsun would have to confess to you if they didn't make it to nationals that year

iwaizumi told them to cut it out (they didn't listen)

oikawa knew mattsun wouldn't want to jeopardise his friendship with you by confessing, so he used that as an incentive for mattsun to train more LOL oikawa's actually evil

but they lost to shiratorizawa anyway so mattsun had to confess to you

he went to your class during lunch the very next day with a small bouquet of flowers and a note

he wanted to just leave it on your table and leave before anyone saw him, but you just HAD to walk in right at that moment

"what's that?" "...it's for makki" "then why is it on my table, issei?" "...because makki likes to sit at your table" "but makki's not even in this class"

anyway he ended up with the girl of his dreams that day and now he's secretly glad seijoh lost that game lol

you graduated together after dating for 1.5 years, and took a really beautiful grad photo together (he had the absolute biggest smile on his face, even makki had never seen him smile that wide before)

there was one photo with his friends in the background cheering as he bashfully gave you a kiss on your cheek (YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE MY HEART IS ABOUT TO EXPLODE)

you also had a ton of photos photobombed by oikawa and makki in the background - and a few more taken when iwaizumi was dragging them out of the frame by their ears

dates with him:

he brought you out to dinner for your first date

he listened to oikawa's advice to take you to dinner because "girl's like the classics" and since oikawa was the only one in the team who had had a girlfriend before, mattsun decided that maybe he had a point

iwaizumi reminded him that oikawa got dumped his girlfriend but anyway-

it was a decent, slightly fancy restaurant in the city area and yes, he insisted on paying (he's been spoiling you from the very start)

he also got all dressed up for it - and i mean, suit, pants, flowers and everything

he was blushing the whole time

after that, you guys started going on different types of dates, depending on whether you're more of an extrovert or an introvert

dates include going on picnics, going to the arcade, movies, night markets and festivals, aquarium, museum, etc.

def a ton of home dates too - ordering food and doing skincare together or just cuddling

as broke highschool kids, you probably went to less expensive places, except for the occasional event, eg. after major exams, on you birthdays, your anniversary, after winning a game, etc.

lots of cheap after-school lunch dates though

milestones together:

you were each other's firsts, so you both lowkey didn't know what you were doing but you learned together

probably had your first major argument/conflict/disagreement after about half a year of dating? but you learned to resolve it in a healthy way pretty quickly

if you're not a confrontational person, then mattsun was probably the one who initiated the conversation after the argument

he probably cycled to your house in the evening just to apologise to you and talked things out

he can be a little blunt sometimes so resolving conflicts with him are usually very direct

after that, you slowly learned from each other's habits and signs and rarely get into heated arguments anymore because you know how to resolve conflicts peacefully through ✨communication✨

it was a pretty important milestone when you first met each other's families/parents, which was about a few months after dating

your parents knew you guys were friends first but had never met him until you started dating

he's a pretty nonchalant guy but meeting your parents for the first time was probably one of the most nerve-wracking moments in his life (i think it's a universal experience)

they love him tho

if you have any really young siblings or cousins, they'd probably use him as a free climbing activity

he has an older sister and a younger brother and they absolutely ADORE you

like from the moment issei introduced you to them, they were like "ISSEI WE WANT THIS ONE"

moving in together during or after college

you guys were one of the cutest campus couples like your relationship was the PEAK of all college relationships

like EVERYBODY wanted a relationship like yours and mattsun's

the little things:

he looks like his love language is gift-giving, followed by quality time but that's just my opinion

so you can expect lots of little gifts from him

he also always initiates a lot of dates because he wants to spend time with you

walks you home every chance he gets

ALSO FLOWERS

in high school he'd pick flowers from the school garden and give them to you, he'd either visit your classroom during break or give it to you when he sees you in the hallway or even between classes

probably pissed off the school gardener once for picking too many flowers but they became good friends and now mattsun always gets fresh flowers for you

idk why but this man gives "he'd get you flowers every time he passes by a flower shop bc 'why not'" vibes

mattsun would 100% match outfits with you on a date "just for the aesthetic"

mattsun in a black turtle neck, jacket, a thin silver chain, more flowers, and a fancy restaurant for a date

he'd probably make a spotify playlist for you, either of songs that remind him of you or of songs that are special to both of you

he would carry your bag for you when you go out, even if you insist that it's not heavy, doesn't matter how feminine it is, he'd gladly carry it on one side while holding your hand on the other side

you send tiktoks to each other every day (and by that i mean A LOT of tiktoks) and he watches every single one that you send him and he always replies to them. either with an emoji or a short reply, he just wants you to know he enjoys your tiktoks

will send you every "send this to the prettiest girl you know" tiktok he comes across (which is also very often)

takes candid photos of you when you're not paying attention, probably has one as his lockscreen too

post-timeskip hcs:

you're close to the seijoh 4 and hang out with them almost every time they meet up

and since you're mattsun's +1 who's been around them since high school, you're invested in the other guys' love lives too

sometimes you and mattsun try to set them up with people for your own entertainment to help them out a lil

you and mattsun are like a package deal, if you're invited to something, he's coming with and vice versa

you and mattsun would probably ditch an event together once you're tired or sick of it

you probably saved all the dried petals from all the flowers he's given to you over the years and got your wedding guests to throw them as you walked down the aisle together (you saw someone do this on tiktok and when you told him after the ceremony he actually cried)

if you guys own a car, you would probably take turns driving the car every day and drop off / pick up the other from work

if you don't then you'd meet at a bus or train station nearby and head home together every day

the two of you would 100% take naps on the bus or train together with earphones in

since he works in a funeral home, i feel like he'd have tons of flowers at his workplace, so sometimes he'll take a few home for you

either that or he knows the best flower shops in town and he'll often pick up a bouquet on the way home

also tells you stories from his work

a/n: ok i'm out of brain juice for this one but i hope you liked it! i hope i didn't write him too ooc too 😭

#educated.simps #haikyuu x reader #lyssa.writes #simps.write #haikyuu!!#yves.edits #matsukawa issei #haikyuu matsukawa #mattsun #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa fluff #matsukawa x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff

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larothoughts · 5 months ago

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qijiu thoughts: complicated codependence

after reading a few more shen jiu fics i figured maybe the diverging point when it comes to fan-interpretation is understanding how codependent qijiu is. like, it's not just qi-ge who won't let go of shen jiu, shen jiu 100% spitefully, unwillingly yet helplessly refuses to let go of qi-ge either. the obvious author answer to this is for sj to remove himself from qi-ge because of toxic codependence (see my rant on anti-qijiu pro-sj fics), except i don't think it's in-character for him to ever do so??

the man literally died twice because he couldn't let go of qi-ge until the very, very end. he'll never give up on him as easily as he does in fic, this man is a canonical stubborn asshole who can't let go of anything. that's his entire problem lol

(first time was obviously after lbh gave him xuan su's shards. sj, who had spent the entire time being tortured refusing to bend, cracks at the realization that qi-ge came this time and died. i forgot if him eating xuan su's shards is canon in the qijiu extras or if it's a fanon theory, but i 100% find this in-character of sj to do as a final f*** you to the universe.)

(second time was the qi deviation that caused shen yuan to take over his life. i'll go over this later, but i believe sqh, who transmigrated decades before, likely tried to nudge qijiu into reconciling and instead made it worse. so while in the og!pidw universe, sj never deviated hard enough to die; in this svsss universe, sqh trying to get sj to face his own heart demons literally caused him to die. oops. system got pretty mad because lbh MUST go into the abyss, and so had to scramble to find a sj replacement lol)

preface

much of this is my own interpretation of things btw. i haven't read the qijiu extras in a while so it's very possible some of these things don't follow canon. especially the whole cognitive dissonance part. i've always leaned towards the 'shen jiu is an unreliable, in-denial narrator of his own story, he can't admit anything to himself until he's literally at death's door' interpretation of sj's tsundereness, so that's 100% my own bias peeking through here.

how qing ding peak made everything worse

this a fanon theory i like that has merit given how long qijiu had problems: things would've been so much different if yue qi wasn't chosen by qing ding. like, literally any other peak, qijiu would've had 75% chance of having a happy ending. i feel like any peak with a halfway decent lord with basic empathy skills would have thought 'hmm yes, if we rescue the friend of this little prodigy we can ensure his loyalty to us for life' instead of 'let's dangle the chance of rescuing his friend as a way to get this kid to work as hard as he can until it's too late, then allow the failure to break him down completely so we can reshape him into the perfect successor.' though to be honest the former sect leader probably didn't expect yue qi to literally be broken down.

my thought is that the sect leader kept putting off the rescue over and over, hoping to drag things out until the inevitable happened. but yue qi, naturally wary of adults, panicked once he realized what his shizun was doing. he tried to pull xuan su without permission to force the leader into acknowledging his strength and letting him go... which then led to the entire soul-binding fiasco we see in canon. sure, the former sect leader could've lost his newest experiment, but throwing him into the caves had the bonus of making him late anyway. so a success all around everyone!

we can further theorize the character of the previous sect leader (and how his grooming of yue qi possibly led to his guilt complex and inability to communicate his honest feelings) but ultimately it was qing ding peak's teachings itself that led to yqy's inability to reconcile with sj. because qing ding is the diplomat's peak. the politics peak. the peak where people often cannot say exactly what they mean, must never overtly show favor to anyone, must control every single thing they do or say else the political fallout ruins their sect's reputation.

so it really didn't help that their reunion happened in the middle of sj committing pretty bad crimes like murdering and looting disciples. yue qi went immediately into political clean-up mode, sj misunderstood yue qi's silence as 'i will never tell you' instead of 'not now sj we need to bury these bodies in the bushes', and then later sj was so scornful yue qi's guilt-complex kicked in and he figured 'sj will never forgive me, obviously he doesn't want to hear excuses.' and as yue qi's political position grew, the less he could overtly support and protect shen jiu. the more careful he was of his words and actions, so far removed from the qi-ge sj once knew that sj can't help but lash out. by the time yqy was mentally well enough to talk about the lingxi cave fiasco (if ever), sj had already built up a protective wall of 'this qi-ge is an imposter, the real qi-ge would not have left me.' and yqy didn't know how to tell him the truth without sj's psyche collapsing in on itself. so... he just continued not to tell him.

in which qi-ge is alive but also dead, as declared by shen jiu

sj barely recognized qi-ge once they reunited. yue qi has always been the peacemaker amongst the rowdy slaves, sure, but he'd always been on sj's side. he told sj everything, things he never told the other slaves, and only really clammed up when they were facing beatings by adults in a true us-versus-them scenario. now, however, he's clamming up with shen jiu. he hates it, this intrinsically qi-ge thing that this fake qi-ge doesn't realize he's doing. more than the shiny clothes and well-fed appearance, this is what makes the chasm between them feel real. qi-ge never came back for him, because qi-ge was dead. cang qiong killed qi-ge and all that's left is this qi-ge puppet going through motions of caring for sj it obviously doesn't understand.

(this is easier for him to accept, because if yue qi wasn't mentally dead than he really did willingly abandon shen jiu in the dirt, and accepting that would make shen jiu lose his mind.)

now what to do when qi-ge is dead and he doesn't need sj to protect him anymore? logically, sj should've stayed long enough to fix his cultivation, save up funds, and then leave to become a rogue cultivator before his past had the chance to catch up to him. but sj is not logical. he's spiteful and angry and contrary. he claws his way up the disciple hierarchy on qing jing and spits in the face of yue qi's awkward overtures. he hates the other qing jing disciples, his own shizun, lqg and a bunch of the other head disciples; in fact, he hates cang qiong as a whole because they were the ones that took qi-ge away from him. but at the end of the day, a dead qi-ge puppet is still kind of qi-ge and even if qi-ge threw sj away that didn't mean the reverse was true. sj will not give even a dead puppet qi-ge up; he belongs to him whether he likes it or not (/spitefully).

so as it becomes clearer and clearer that yue qi will indeed become the next sect leader, sj begrudgingly finds himself stuck in cang qiong. one would think things would get better after the former peak lords ascend, since that meant the evil brainwashing sect leader and the resentful qiu-naming qing jing peak lord would've finally fucked off. but no, things actually get worse.

because now that the former sect leader isn't actively sabotaging qijiu's relationship (sure, he didn't mean to break yue qi's mind that bad, but even the worst broken eggs can be turned into a decent obedient successor, except shen jiu's continued existence is threatening to undo all his hard work) yue qi is more able to try and make overt amends. the problem is, by acting more like the real qi-ge, he's threatening sj's mental defense of 'qi-ge is dead, this qi-ge is a fake.'

when cognitive dissonance gives you qi deviations

the more qi-ge acts like he's honestly sorry, the more shen jiu must accept that qi-ge isn't dead. that he either chose to leave sj behind (devastating given sj's abandonment issues) or was forced to leave sj behind and refused to tell him why (more abandonment issues; does he not trust sj anymore??) worse for peak morale, the more overtly sj rejects yqy, the more annoyed the other peak lords get. doesn't sj know how bad it looks for their sect, to have their top two lords fighting like this?? why is yqy not shutting it down, isn't he a politician?

well yes, but as sect leader he now has the freedom to pick and choose when to put his politicking hat on. lqg follows sqq to a brothel and causes a ruckus in the middle of the street? scold sqq for being so overt, because they both know the best way into the brothel is through the back via code word! they learned how to sneak into brothels as street kids ages ago and sqq could have totally done so discreetly! argue with lqg but refuse to explain himself? sqq please, he can't take your side for no reason, especially in front of all these peak lords who already knows he favors you!!

and because shen jiu is facing the cognitive dissonance of qi-ge's... qi-ge-ness, he sets up tests rigged to fail no matter how yqy responds. this way he is always right! if yqy sides with sj, sj's annoyed because he's clearly trying to placate him like a child. if yqy sides against sj, he's obviously choosing to abandon sj again!!

yqy is fully aware of the trap because yqy is a trained politician capable of reading social cues (and sj hasn't changed all that much from when they were kids, he still has that same spiteful edge to him yqy is so fond of). he intentionally falls for them because (1) he deserves to be hated by sj and (2) being hated by sj keeps him from lashing out too much at the other peak lords. yqy is very used to sj's temper tantrums, it's when he lashes out at other people that things become unmanageable.

(during the latter half of their rule over cang qiong, i feel that yqy learned to stop actively chasing reconciliation. he came around for tea and present-giving, kept things civil, and still let sj get away with all kinds of terrible things. he fell for all of sj's traps with his eyes wide open and it infuriates sj, everything about this drives him mad. he doesn't want this soft, unspoken affection, because this was how qi-ge used to handle sj's tsundereness back when they were on the streets. it's another sign that qi-ge is still qi-ge, and this fact brings sj both selfish comfort and undeniable agony.)

it's an awkward balancing act that continues to sour sj's reputation with the other peak lords, but it's mostly manageable until sqh sticks his nose into their business and pushes sj over the edge.

how transmigrators ruin everything

"maybe yqy did something impulsive, did you think of that? why can't you forgive him, he tried so hard? aren't you tired of being angry all the time?" bitch no, sj has been keeping the worst of the qi deviations away for years by performing mental gymnastics around his walls of denial stOP KNOCKING THEM DOWN. Even worse, lbh arrives on the peak and shen jiu hates him. not just because he's got all the potential shen jiu had stolen away from him, but he's so glad to be here. he's making his mother proud. all while shen jiu was dragged here essentially against his will, trapped himself in this bamboo prison out of spite, and then realized the dead thing he's been looking after for decades isn't dead after all. that qi-ge actually did, for realsies, leave him at the qius. that all these overtures, the silent acceptance of his faults, everything could just be out of guilt (qi-ge is ashamed of him) and not out of a ghost reenacting its former lingering affection (the real qi-ge would've still loved him.)

the dissonance, abandonment issues, frustration and everything culminates in a devastating qi deviation. ironically, now that yqy's rule is mostly secure and sj's reputation has soured enough to start negatively affecting the sect, sj finally feels safe enough to let go. in this moment of emotional clarity, sj finally releases qi-ge from his grasp and decides to die.

that was not supposed to happen.

qi-ge's no good, very bad sacrifice

in another universe where og!sqh was too busy plotting to betray cang qiong mountain, the frosty and emotionally charged stand-off between yqy and sj continues for years. then, lqg dies. i'm torn between yqy believing sj killed lqg or not. either way, i don't think he'd be 'disappointed' in sj as portrayed in some fics. i also don't think it would infuriate sj that yqy thinks he's capable of killing lqg, because if anyone knows how much of a murder kitten shen jiu is, it's yqy. maybe he's offended yqy thinks him dumb enough to kill him in such a sloppy way. maybe he's even more offended that this turns the other peak lords against him and yqy just lets it happen.

or maybe (through my qijiu-tinted glasses) it pisses him off that yqy does tell the peak lords that they should all stand together, and the other peak lords ignore him and hate sj anyway. they're disrespecting yqy because they think he is compromised, and sj worked too goddamn hard to solidify yqy's position to have it undone by a murder he didn't even do.

(ironically, if lqg was alive he'd tell the other peak lords to f*** off for disobeying yqy. lqg's canon respect for yqy is something i feel needs more acknowledgement, likely because i feel half the reason they don't get along is because of sj's utter disrespect of their sect leader. who cares if sj is a street rat or the son of a wealthy family, no one disrespects yue-shixiong!)

now the story of sj's road to becoming lbh's plaything is a well-worn track that everyone knows. i do subscribe to the idea that sj took one look at huan hua's eagerness, lbh's vendetta, and yqy's recklessness and made the same decision he did in the svsss verse: he'd rather qi-ge be free (happy) than dead. this is a battle he cannot win, and he'll be damned if he lets lbh drag cang qiong down with him. when yqy promises him he'll save him from the water prison, sj spits in his face and tells him for the final time that xiao jiu and qi-ge are both dead. he let sj go decades ago, and now sj is letting qi-ge go in return.

sj faces the torture with the tenacious spirit of someone who'd withstood worse torture for years. in fact, he's a bit impressed by lbh taking revenge on him the same way sj took revenge on qiu jianluo. either way, even with more than 50% of his body missing, sj faces his fate in utter defiance. and then lbh shows up with xuan su.

the reveal of qi-ge's failed rescue and demise was devastating for a lot of reasons. most obviously, sj's sacrifice to keep cang qiong safe from the fallout was a failure. everything he'd done and sacrificed to keep qi-ge safe, all the scorn he'd borne as the hated qing jing peak lord was thrown away because qi-ge wanted to be a moron.

the other reason why sj broke was because qi-ge did come for him. he simply failed. and the tiny part of him that always suspected qi-ge was still qi-ge now has confirmation that all those years ago, qi-ge likely did the same. he came for him at the qius, but he failed. the only difference now is lbh's willingness to tell him the truth vs. yqy's decades-long silence. the only difference now is that yqy is actually, physically dead.

sj has been living on borrowed time ever since he looked the new yqy (fake qi-ge) in the eyes and allowed himself to be brought to cang qiong mountain. everything he did was to elevate himself into a position where no one could hurt him (and qi-ge) anymore, the same way he'd acted back when they were on the streets. now that he was in this state and qi-ge was dead, his time was clearly up. and sj refuses to let lbh have the last laugh. as much as he respected lbh for his ruthlessness, it's not enough to stave off sj's spite. he didn't let qjl control him in the end, and he won't let lbh do so either.

final thoughts

some last, disorganized thoughts on qijiu's relationship

rather than yqy telling sj what happened, i think showing him the scars all over his body would be much more impactful. sj knows how worthless words can be; he's likely prefer being able to touch each scar and check the meridians for himself. yqy doesn't need to say a word, his entire body is a testament to the torture he'd endured.

ironically, sj fixing up cang qiong as a tactician and his personal refusal to put himself in weak situations made yqy incapable of showing his care through action. all of his crises were political/reputation-based/etc. all things qing ding's teachings guaranteed yqy to fail all his speech-checks. and yqy is definitely not the type of person to engineer a false crisis just to swoop in to save sj... not because of any moral reasons, but because risking sj in any way would be absolutely unacceptable. in yqy's world, it's sj > the sect > good morals. he does have good morals, yes, but he's also pragmatic and self-aware enough to know when to put the things he cares about first.

there was a theory i read before about yqy and sj's trauma responses being to shut down and say nothing in the face of accusations, and i agree with this. saying nothing often netted less punishment than 'making excuses.' even without this coping mechanism, the mental trauma of having his mind and body broken could've easily stopped yqy from being able to even speak around the topic for years. if he doesn't talk about it and no one sees his scars, he can pretend it never happened. sj's scorn of him is forever a sign that it did happen, but that's fine, he's always made exceptions for shen jiu.

i don't really know where the uncomfortably-creepy-no-boundaries yqy towards sy came from? in the original novel sy clearly like yqy and views him in a positive, big-brother-shape light. even towards the end of the novel when yqy confesses, sy feels more guilty for being an imposter than angry that yqy failed sj. yqy even steps aside for lbh thinking 'well, at least sqq is happy now' because that's what he wanted for sj for so, so long. for him to be happy, even if that meant forgetting qi-ge.

(the no-boundaries thing is something i disagree with in general, because i think yqy's political and social training would make that very unlikely. he doesn't call sqq xiao-jiu as often as he does in fics, i think he did so in canon because he was delirious and exhausted post-drawing-xuan-su. i figured qijiu's latter years cooled off a bit as yqy realized direct overtures weren't working and went the coaxing-stray-cat route to everyone else's befuddlement.)

does qi-ge know sy is not sj? i can go either way with this. the theory that he does know but he's repressing it out of his own mental wellbeing is intriguing; but so is him assuming sj losing his memories means sy is a different person. which means he's always been happier without qi-ge. either way, i do believe yqy no longer views sqq-y the same as sqq-j. after the first few years post-qi-deviation, i think yqy is emotionally mature enough to realize sy is here to stay and that the sj he once knew (either because of his lost memories or whole-soul transplantation) is gone.

i am a qijiu shipper, but i do also like platonic qijiu. my only prerequisite for any other-ship-jiu fic is some kind of qijiu reconciliation. i honestly don't think either of them would have good romantic relationships unless they fix their own relationship first. qi-ge can't marry someone, that would remove sj from being the most important person on qi-ge's list. despite scorning him, sj being number one is one of the only things holding sj together throughout their divorce era. sj cannot marry anyone because that would give qi-ge the false impression that sj is happy and qi-ge is now free. and qi-ge is not allowed to be free. he will belong to sj for as long as sj wants and nothing is allowed to interfere with that impression. lol both of these are sj-based, but sj's always been the dominant party in this relationship. whether or not qi-ge is jealous of sj's new lover is irrelevant; as long as sj is happy, the og!sj-simp qi-ge is also happy.

i have too many qijiu thoughts and not enough time to write a fic about them, alas. i find their relationship fascinating and very integral to their personalities no matter the au or ship.

#svsss #meta #qijiu #yue qingyuan #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #i love me some long and detailed disciple-era qijiu #as for peak lord qijiu they're both adults and sj is a canonical schemer #there's no way he didn't know yue qi did something stupid #you get a qi deviation! YOU get a qi deviation! you all get a qi deviation!!!#fanfic writing thoughts

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littlestarbigsky · 2 months ago

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i made this post aaaand nobody told me no so yea it’s a fic now (a short one but a fic nonetheless!) oh man i had way too much fun with stevepop there’s definitely more where this came from-

here’s stevepop getting drunk lol

“y’know… you’re sooooo handsome,” soda gushed, laying on his stomach on steve’s bed, a pillow folded under his chest to keep him upright and his feet kicked up behind him.

steve blushed, knowing it was just the beer. soda never touched a drop of alcohol, he didn’t need it, but every now and then the two of them would get a good tip at work and combine them to buy themselves a six-pack. steve was used to drinking, how he reacted to it, the whole song and dance, but soda? soda was probably the biggest lightweight tulsa had ever seen. steve was three beers in and still doing alright, but soda had been giggling after his first and was barely able to stand halfway through his second.

“i gotta get out of my work stuff, still got oil all over me from that mustang,” steve tried not to sound too excited about the car they had worked on that day. he pivoted and pointed at soda, “you shut your eyes.”

soda giggled and clumsily put his hands over his eyes. steve quickly stripped off his dx shirt and oil-stained jeans, throwing them into the laundry basket in the corner and turning back to grab his pajamas from the bed.

“hey!” steve yelped as he caught soda staring at him. soda just giggled and blushed, well, as much as he could with how red his cheeks already were. “i told you to shut your eyes, you idiot!”

“but you’re soooo pretty,” soda smiled, propping his head up with one of his hands.

“and you’re soooooo drunk,” steve laughed, brushing some of soda’s unkempt hair off his forehead. “i guess if i asked you to cover your eyes you’d just look at me again.”

soda gave a noncommittal shrug and giggled again, his eyes still on steve’s hand, which had stopped to cup his face. steve shoved him gently back down onto the bed and grabbed himself a pair of pajama pants and thought better of finding a shirt to sleep in. if soda was this far gone, he would be plastered to steve’s side all night, if it was possible for him to be more touchy than he was when he was sober. either way, they would both be sweating half to death by the morning if they didn’t forego at least some of their clothing. besides, he liked that soda got to see his muscles.

“‘spose your sleepin in your work clothes then, huh, darlin?” steve asked, letting out a small laugh as he looked at soda, who was sprawled out on his back on the bed.

soda arched his back to look backwards at steve, his head digging into the mattress, “noooo, give me some of your stuff, stevie.”

steve laughed again, “alright, you gotta undress while i grab you something.”

this was easier said than done, apparently, because within a few seconds, steve had to grab soda by the arm to make sure he didn’t fall over taking his pants off and had to rescue him from his t-shirt another few minutes later. still, eventually steve got soda into a pair of his sweatpants was more than happy to fall into bed once they were done.

“do i get another beer?” soda asked, resting his head on steve’s collarbone, their bare chests pressed together under the sheets.

steve laughed, “absolutely not.”

soda gave a hearty sigh, which didn’t make steve any more eager to give him more alcohol, and snuggled closer so his body was flush up against steve’s side.

“you should try to get some sleep, pepsi,” steve mused, running a hand through soda’s hair. “we gotta work tomorrow.”

“not until later, though!” soda whined, his face buried in steve’s chest.

steve laughed lightly, “something tells me you’ll still be down for the count for a while, though. god damn lightweight.”

soda didn’t respond, just looked up at steve, his big brown eyes shining in the dim lamplight of steve’s bedroom.

steve smiled, “i always loved those pretty eyes of yours.”

soda’s eyes widened, as though to show steve more of his eyes, and they shared a laugh before soda slurred out, “and i love you.”

he emphasized the last word with a finger pressing into steve’s chest. steve did his best to ignore the warmth that flooded through his chest at soda’s words, but the feeling in his face told him that he was blushing anyways. they both giggled and steve kissed soda’s forehead before reaching over and turning out the lamp.

#the outsiders #the outsiders fic #sodapop curtis #steve randle #stevepop #star’s writing

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yan-randomfandom · 1 month ago

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Cool, we figured, but I just wanted to make sure! We're thinking yan! Aiden x good at the game reader. Like the reader has at least iron armor, and definitely has a Dimond sword. Aiden is such a pathetic wet cat of a man, that's trying to look cool for us, but WERE just messing it up by saving him from danger. Lol

I'd imagine that he'd at some point, would take our sword and turn it on us to keep us.

Who is your favorite character? I'd imagine you'd write for them more out of any other character :]

💘ficto anon

Yandere!Aiden x Pro!GN!Reader

a/n: I don't think I have a favorite character, but I do like a lot of characters! Ivor (prolly would be top 1), Lukas, Petra, Magnus.. also i dont think i followed your prompt exactly, my bad😔 aiden's quite difficult to write,, i js hope it's at least close to canon,, if not, Im so SORRY 😭

[words: 2251] this turned out longer than i expected. the quality of writing deteriorated halfway tho LOL also i used the "only one bed" trope ... erm

👾 ;

The witherstorm has reached Aiden.

He clutched a fence, gasping, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The purple glow made everything appear bleak. Under the morose lighting, he grabbed block after block, trying to reach the godforsaken surface.

Aiden's eyes widened in dread, his desperation only growing, clawing at his chest. Despite his best efforts, his arms gave up on him.

He let go.

...

A sudden, forceful tug on his body jolted him awake, his breath rushing from his lungs. His ears rang so loudly it felt like he was plunged into silence.

"Come on," a muffled voice huffed. He struggled to understand. "Don't give up on me now."

Gentle yet firm arms lifted him, one supporting his back, the other under his legs. The world spun and bounced; the person was running.

His vision gradually sharpened, looking up to see your face.

...Oh.

It's you.

"We'll be safe here," you muttered, carefully setting him down on the soft grass. He groaned slightly at the motion. "Witherstorm's the opposite way."

You stood up and took a few steps away from him. With the witherstorm's back facing you, you could see all those floating objects... those floating people. You wished you could have saved them, but you understood it was far too dangerous.

Turning back, you made eye contact with the brunette. He stared at you in silence.

At least you saved one person.

He didn’t say anything. The moonlight unfortunately wasn't strong enough to reveal the flush on his face. Assuming he needed more time to process everything, you decided to act on your own. You began putting on your armor; you were in the middle of an open space, and it was nighttime, after all.

"That's..." The man suddenly spoke, his voice rough. You glanced at him with curiosity. "That's iron armor."

Interesting first words. You grinned while you put on your boots. "Mined it myself. Iron's more common than you think."

"And," he cleared his throat, "you saved me."

You gently smiled then walked over, sitting beside him. Iron armor never failed to feel uncomfortable. "How are you feeling?"

His small flinch didn't go unnoticed. "I'm fine."

You rested your eyes on him. He was avoiding eye contact—you knew that—but your mind wandered as you continued to watch him.

"Don't stare at me," he snapped, glaring at you. You pursed your lips as his eyes slowly looked up. "You can't just... zombie."

You raised a brow. "Zombie?"

"Zombie!" he yelped, grabbing your body and pushing you behind him. Aiden stood up, defensive, with a lift of his sword. He was only doing this because he really didn't want to owe anyone anything. This time, he was going to save you.

You were so confused. Not until you heard the faint groan of a zombie. Smiling, you pulled your sword from your inventory.

"So sneaky," you chuckled, gently pushing Aiden aside, who was confused beyond belief, and pierced your sword into the zombie's chest. "Why didn't I hear you?"

The zombie poofed, leaving behind a piece of rotten flesh. You picked it up.

"Hey! I had it!" Aiden growled. His eyebrows were furrowed in frustration. But when his eyes fell on your sword, his expression shifted to something more disturbed.

"...What the hell? Is that netherite?" he murmured, his nose scrunching.

"Yeah—"

"You really are a weirdo!" You paused at his words. "Honestly, what do you think you're doing?!"

"..."

Without warning, you pulled him toward you. He would have fallen on you if you hadn’t held him, quickly stabbing the zombie that had been right behind him.

"Let's not talk here," you whispered in his ear, causing shivers to run down his spine.

🔥 —

The fire crackled with life, casting a warm glow around the cave you found. You had just finished blocking off the entrance so mobs wouldn't be able to break through your wooden door.

Yet, you still stood beside it, peeking through the gaps. You took a deep breath.

"...I have to go back."

Aiden's eyes widened, his brows furrowing. He stood up abruptly. "What? And just leave me here?!"

You pinched between your eyebrows. "It's better to leave now than wait! What if there are survivors?! Mobs are crawling all over the place!"

"Exactly! It's too risky!" he snarled, stepping in front of you. His gaze at you was fierce, as if daring you to challenge him. "Look, first thing in the morning, I'll go with you. Just not now, alright?"

Your eyes narrowed. "I can go without you."

"What about me, then?" he shot back. "Saving me would've been pointless. Creepers could easily blow this place up. Better safe than sorry."

"You haven't exactly been the nicest company," you admitted, crossing your arms. You looked away with a bite of your inner cheek. "But whatever. Fine. You've got solid points anyway."

Walking away from him, you plopped a seat next to the campfire. At least the fire was still burning strong, its warmth pleasantly nibbling at your skin.

Aiden followed your steps and sat on the opposite side of the fire. He crossed his legs, his gaze fixed on you. You stared back, though probably a bit more nervously than him—not that you’d ever admit it out loud.

"So," he suddenly started, raising a brow. "Where'd you get it?"

You blinked. "Get what?"

He rolled his eyes. "Netherite. Not just anyone can have that."

Much to his dismay, you started chuckling. "True. I'll leave it to you to guess how I got it."

"That's not an answer," he groaned, visibly annoyed. "Honestly, nevermind. You always were a weirdo."

"Always?" you choked. "We’ve barely known each other for a day, dude. Why are you saying so many mean things?"

... He looked flabbergasted at your words.

"Hey. What's my name." His eyes were narrowed; he looked quite serious.

With a sheepish smile, you replied, "Um, should I know?"

You've been house neighbors for three whole years.

🍪 —

Something was covering Aiden's body.

His eyes slowly opened to the brightly lit cave, his hands reaching out to touch a smooth surface. Weird. He hadn't had a blanket when he fell asleep.

But you did.

Abruptly, he stood up, ignoring the black spots that crawled his vision as he rushed to the door. He threw it open, the sunlight greeting him, overwhelming his senses.

Right now, he literally couldn't see anything.

"Woah. Good morning." He heard your voice beside him. "Rough sleep or what?"

He turned to the sound of your voice, waiting for his vision to calm down. "You went somewhere."

Eventually, his sight adjusted, and he saw you shrugging. You were wearing your iron armor, scratched and damaged, with dark bags under your eyes. If anything, you looked kind of... cool.

"Sure did. Good news, though, I found survivors."

"You did?" His eyes widened slightly. The first thought that came to mind is that, hopefully, the ocelots would be there.

"A whole community of them, yeah," you nodded, pulling something out of your pocket. "Here, eat up before we go."

Aiden grabbed the cookie, glanced at you, and after a moment, he took a bite.

🌄 —

"How far away is it?? Are you telling me you went all the way out here and came back—"

You mustered a nervous grin, which only made Aiden even more uneasy.

"I, ah, don't actually know where it is," you mumbled, skimming anxiously over the map. "...They just said to keep heading in the direction of the sun."

"What?!" He inhaled sharply. "Does that mean the opposite direction or what? They can't be too far from Endercon!"

You pursed your lips. "You're right. But like you said, better safe than sorry."

Aiden stared at you. You stared back.

Then, without a word, he turned and started walking in the opposite direction. You flickered your gaze between the map and him.

"Aiden?"

The sound of his name, in your voice, made him stop.

"... What."

"You're going to fall off a cliff if you keep going that way."

...

Why is it that you always seem to find ways to shatter his pride and ego?

⛺ —

You finally arrived at the shelter.

Aiden separated from you, which was understandable, he was most likely looking for his friends or family. You, on the other hand, spoke with the head of the place to make arrangements.

"The scouts?" you asked.

She nodded. "Yes, and we have different roles. Some search for survivors, and others gather supplies."

What a noble effort. You're definitely going to join.

"The guy who came with you earlier, he's with you, right?" the lady asked, gesturing toward Aiden.

His voice could be heard from across the lobby. "Anyone seen a dumb blonde with a long nose?? Or a stupid-looking—"

You watched him quietly, arms crossed. It seemed like he hadn't had any luck finding his friends.

After getting no positive replies, Aiden glanced around the room, searching for anyone who might have answers. His eyes landed on you.

You weakly smiled when your eyes met.

With a roll of his eyes, he walked over and stood silently next to you, staring at the floor.

"I'm sure we'll find them soon," you reassured.

The lady coughed.

"Oh, sorry," you said, turning to her. "I would also like to request a room for Aiden."

🌃 —

Unfortunately, due to the lack of available rooms, you and Aiden had to share one. To make matters worse, the room was awkwardly small. He didn't look happy at all. Aggravated, even.

You couldn't say you didn't expect this. Food was already scarce enough as it was.

The worst part? There was only one bed.

"Welp, goodnight," you exclaimed, rolling over to your side—the one that didn't require you to face him.

Your roommate only groaned in response. Not much else to say, and not much else to expect, you supposed.

You slept.

Aiden stayed awake.

He merely stared at the ceiling. All kinds of negative thoughts are visiting his mind, overwhelming him.

Honestly. What was he supposed to do now?

The witherstorm was still out there. It could return at any moment. His family was gone. Lukas and the Ocelots were nowhere to be found.

What, what, what-

Suddenly, something landed on his face, jolting him out of his spiraling thoughts.

He pushed it off, only to realize it was your hand. Well. Okay. This was totally normal for a weirdo like you.

Speaking of you...

Aiden couldn’t help but hate how dependent he’d become on you.

It was painfully irritating—

He felt your leg settle on his, subtly trying to wrap itself around him.

Alright. You're a messy sleeper, aren't you?

... Then, another kind of warmth wrapped itself around his waist. Now you were fully hugging him.

His eyelids drooped halfway. Aiden didn't even bother trying to fight back. He had no energy left for that.

Instead, he let himself embrace your touch. Not like anyone would know anyway.

Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.

��️ —

It's cold.

Aiden woke up, sitting up hastily when he realized you were gone.

His eyes scanned the room for you before he decided to stand up and reach for the door—

"There'll be an expedition in a while. Will you be coming with?"

That sounded like the lady from yesterday. She stood on the other side of the closed door.

"Of course," and that was your... voice. You were agreeing to something. "How long does it usually take again?"

"It depends on your trip. The longest can take about a week, give or take."

"...Ah. Okay. No worries," you eventually replied.

... Aiden's eyebrows furrowed.

You were going to leave him?

🗡️ —

"Oh, good morning," you smiled, placing the tray of food on the table. You looked at Aiden, who was sitting on your side of the bed.

"I bought some food. I already ate, so-"

Without warning, the very tip of your netherite sword was pointed at you. It was almost threatening—if only you hadn’t noticed the slight tremor in the blade. You raised a confused brow at the motion.

Your eyes followed the edge of the sword along the hand until they landed on its holder.

Aiden was pointing your sword at you.

"What are you doing?" you deadpanned. "That's not yours to take, Aiden."

The way you said his name shoved unwanted chills down his spine.

"... You're planning to leave?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

You really didn't like where the conversation was heading.

"Hey, you can stay here with the others. You'll be safe—"

"No!" His grip on the sword shook violently, his eyes widening with panic. "I won't feel safe. You won't be here with me."

You stammered, backing yourself against the table. "Careful, Aiden. How about you come with me? That's—"

"No, no, I don't want to go back there," he whimpered, his entire demeanor faltering.

A frown settled on your face. With this show of weakness, you only saw this as a chance.

With the tip of your finger, you placed it on the flat side of the sword and gently pushed it down. Aiden stared at you wordlessly, his eyes wide.

"Look, I won't change my mind about going, but if you come with me, I promise I will protect you with my life."

erm hello 🤓☝️ kindly tell me any mistakes!

#yan writes #yandere mcsm x reader #yandere mcsm #yandere minecraft story mode #mcsm aiden #yandere #mcsm aiden x reader #yandere aiden mcsm #💘ficto anon

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bibbykins · 2 years ago

Text

Moonlight Reign Ch. 2

A/N: Sorry I keep disappearing, but hopefully I won't be doing it again! Nothing crazy happened, really, just life gets in the was, you know? But I am back with another part, and I hope you like it!! Everyone say thank you to my sweet B @rapline-heaux for beta-reading. She is the best, go read her stuff!! Also strap in for this one lol

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! BTS x Reader

Words: 5.9k

Warnings: crime, sensory flashbacks, trauma, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, pining, violence, past abuse, past neglect, academic neglect, talk of stitches, wound description, panic attack, nails pressing into palm, brief suicidal thought

Namjoon watched the clock tick by as Jungkook slept on his chest. Something about you… didn’t feel right. He couldn’t explain it, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t jealous. Although, he would have reason to be. You were beautiful and your figure only added to it. Not to mention the way you looked straddling Jungkook was objectively erotic looking– but that wasn’t the point. The point was how nonchalant you were about the whole thing. From giving his boyfriend stitches to fighting him off to reacting that way when he grabbed you, Namjoon knew there was something more there.

The seven of them had built Bangtan from the ground up, and especially as anniversary day was coming up, it unnerved him to encounter someone he couldn’t get a read on. He would need to have Yoongi look into what he could find about you. The seven of them were all leaders, but Namjoon controlled the above-ground operations while Yoongi managed the underground ones, and something told Namjoon he’d need to look there for anything about you.

First, he just had to get your full name from the younger man drooling on his chest. He sighed as he brushed a hand through Jungkook’s hair, wanting to be angry with him for getting drunk and getting into a fight, but he just couldn’t. After the last few years Jungkook had, he deserved to let loose, what worried him was that he was doing him more often than usual. Jungkook usually only acted out this much when he was holding something in. It didn’t help that the leader had been halfway across the world for the past month. Namjoon was never one to pry or be too good with feelings out of all of them, but he had a nagging feeling it had to do with you.

Eventually, sleep found the older man and he was awoken by the smell of food wafting into the bedroom. His eyes finally cracked open when he felt a kiss being planted on his cheek, “Wakey, wakey.” Hoseok sang, and chuckled at the look of confusion Namjoon gave him, “Jungkook called us all over for breakfast since it’s been a while since we’ve all been in the same city.”

Namjoon was finally fully awake and could hear Jungkook singing along to some show tune with Jin in the kitchen and scoffed, “He’s awfully spry for someone who should be nursing one hell of a hangover.” He mumbled and Hoseok snorted.

“Yeah, I’m sure Yoongi is going to want a full report on last night.” The older man shook his head, knowing it would only stress out the aforementioned man, “Brightside is he should calm down when Jimin and Taehyung tell him the news.” The younger man raised a brow in question but Hoseok shook his head, “I’m not the type to spoil a surprise.” He chuckled before pressing a soft kiss to the man’s furrowed brow, “You’ll know soon enough, let’s go.”

Hand in hand, the two take their seats as Jin and Jungkook place plates in front of the five sitting men, “I see someone is trying to make up for getting trashed last night.” Taehyung sang.

“Or I just miss having all my boyfriends in the same room.” Jungkook huffed as he took his seat next to Yoongi who gave him a glare, “Oh, come on. You cannot seriously be mad at me?” He flashed his doe eyes to the man and fluttered his lashes.

Jimin clicked his tongue, “That’s not seriously going to work, is it?” He whined, “Yoongi never lets me get away with shit from just looking at him.”

“You get away with plenty.” Jin quipped at the fighter.

Yoongi ignored the commotion as his hands brushed Jungkook’s hair out of the way to look at the stitches, “Who did those, baby?” His voice was soft but with the way the youngest man shrunk, he knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Well, I guess I’ll just go ahead and give the report of last night’s events.” Namjoon huffed through a bite of bacon, “You want to start, Kook?” He raised a brow.

The man sighed and nodded, “Well, I finished all my work early, like usual.” He began smugly. Jungkook in general was a skilled person, so he didn’t have just one job, but most often he was digging up dirt on people via his computer skills, “Then, I had my regular neighbor dinner.” He smiled at the thought, and Jin noticed Jimin and Taehyung scowling a bit at this. The two were the most jealous of this elusive neighbor, which was odd since even on the seldom occasions the others sought the company of someone else, it never affected any of them. Nowadays, they don’t really go outside of the relationship, but it’s still interesting to see them so jealous, but they kept silent as Jungkook continued, “We watched Jimin win, so then I decided to go out and… celebrate.” His smile turned guilty.

“This close to the anniversary, Kook?” Jin sighed and Yoongi kept deathly quiet.

“I’ll assume that’s where your memory stops?” Hoseok asked and Jungkook nodded sheepishly.

“Well, I then got a call from one of our guys at around three in the morning that some rookie was running his mouth and pissed Kook off.” Namjoon sighed, “Jungkook won the fight even sloshed out of his mind if that’s any consolation.”

“Nice.” Jimin grunts and Taehyung snickers at the glare Yoongi shoots him.

“Then, I drag him all the way here and he collapses at his neighbor’s door, insisting she’ll fix him up.” The CEO continues the story and notes how Hoseok shifts at the mention of this, “What was even weirder is that she did, like it was super normal.”

“It’s not that normal.” Jungkook argued weakly.

“She said it wasn’t uncommon.” Namjoon snapped and Yoong put his head in his hands, “I will also say it was really eerie the way she could just handle how Jungkook gets when she woke up.”

“She’s a nurse, you guys know that.” The man tried to defend.

“A high school nurse.” Taehyhung corrected, causing the hacker to pout, “I doubt she has to restrain her patients regularly.”

“Did I hurt her when I woke up?” Jungkook asked and this made Namjoon falter.

“That doesn’t matter right now.” The CEO offers, “What I was getting at is I think Yoongi and Jungkook should do a deeper background check than the initial one we did-”

“No.” Jungkook spat, partly shocking Namjoon at the venom in his voice. The youngest’s face was twisted in distaste at the idea, “You all promised-”

“That was before I saw the way-”

“No!” He shouted, shocking everyone at the table as his eyes began to glisten, “I’ve known her for years now, and she’s never been pushy about what’s going on in my life or why I have six boyfriends she’s never even met and in return, I don’t ask her questions.” Namjoon’s jaw clenched at this. Most of the time if an arrangement was too good to be true, it’s because it was. If he didn’t care so much about Jungkook’s love and trust he wouldn’t have even bothered to bring it up. At times like these, being in love was more frustrating than ever as he listened to Jungkook, “She trusts me and I trust her that way, I don’t want to ruin the only friendship I have outside of us.” His voice cracks at the end, making everyone soften a bit. Jungkook was right. It’s been just them for a long time, and you were the only friend he really had. You weren’t a drinking mate or gambling buddy, you were a friend. And yet, he felt like Namjoon was trying to take that away from him.

“Kook, have you considered she might not ask questions because she’s hiding something herself?” Taehyung gently asked, but it didn’t simmer the hacker’s anger.

“I don’t care if she’s hiding anything.” He snapped, making Jin sigh, “I’m hiding plenty and none of that has stopped us from being close so please, just leave it alone.” He pleaded, but Yoongi’s expression was unreadable, “Hoseok did those couple random shadows of her a few years ago and he saw nothing of concern.” He reminded them, and truthfully, how could any of them have forgotten? The act itself caused one of their worst arguments to date. Originally, Taehyung insisted on Jungkook digging up every piece of information he could about her and giving it to them, which made the youngest even more closed off about his friend. Finally, after days of disagreeing, Hoseok was the only one entrusted with your full name, not that it would’ve been all that hard to find.

The man in question nodded, “It was quite boring actually, but it’s true. Even the phone calls she took were a snoozefest.” He sighed just remembering them, “I’d never seen such a killjoy of a college student before, and I’m sure she’s the same as a nurse.” Granted, Hoseok’s specialty was not in surveillance, but Taehyung and Jungkook were too biased in opposite ways to do the shadowing, and the chemist was the only one with the extra time to do it.

Jungkook nodded, “She really does just go to work and home.” He mumbled ruefully, “Plus, even if she’s someone else or whatever, at the end of the day, she saves me a hospital trip and hasn’t said anything to anyone, evidently.” He added and Namjoon looked to Yoongi who sighed in defeat but nodded.

“Fine, we’ll drop it.” Yoongi finally spoke and Namjoon bristled, “She hasn’t caused any trouble, sounds like a good friend, and is smart enough not to ask any questions. There’s no reason not to trust Jungkook’s judgment.” He explained to the more skeptical men, Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jimin, who simply nodded in defeat before turning to the youngest, “Just, be more careful, okay?” He looked to the younger man who nodded before giving him a chaste kiss on the lips, “It was pretty risky bringing Namjoon there, even if accidentally. If she does know anything, she could’ve recognized him as the head of Bangtan Corp and unraveled quite a bit.” He said and Jungkook nodded. Even though he doubted you even knew an underground existed, let alone that Bangtan was running it, he understood Yoongi being weary, “Let’s enjoy our breakfast together, yeah?”

They all nodded before falling into their regular lull. No matter how much time they spent apart for work, it was easy for them to get together like no time had passed. The seven of them had been dating for a couple of years now, and though the relationship was loving, it was by no means perfect, that much was obvious. The organization had risen to its height because of their ability to work through those hardships together, but with the rise of their syndicate came less time for one another. This paired with secrets and disagreements that were littered throughout the relationship made for a good chunk of tension when work was exceptionally stressful, like during the anniversary. This was why the relationship was open, but Jungkook was the only one with a consistent connection outside of them, which was most likely why it ruffled some of their feathers.

“Now, I’m told Taehyung and Jimin have some good news?” Namjoon brings up and the two men in question grin at each other, and he can tell they’re silently deciding who should be the one to say it.

“We found a certain little weasel last night.” Taehyung sang.

“Found and captured.” Jimin added, and the two didn’t need to elaborate for the other men to know what they meant.

Yoongi smirked, sadism written along his features as he caught Namjoon’s eyes, “We’ve got an exciting day ahead of us.”

—

Your eyes cracked open slowly as you hissed when sunlight invaded your pupils. You squinted, not sure how you forgot to fully close the blinds, especially during the anniversary week, but you let it go. Work had been especially a nightmare with the beginning of a new term, and the blinds were just barely cracked, not enough for anyone to peak in much but certainly enough for the sun to wreak havoc on you. You stretched your arms forward, taking in a deep breath before craning your neck to look at the time, 10:24 am, nice. You actually managed to get a good amount of sleep even with the chaos at your door last night.

Your sleepy eyes landed on the shallow cut on your forearm beneath the wrapping you put on it. It looked a lot like a cat scratch, which you were thankful for. The last thing you needed was any nosy colleagues or students asking too many questions. Telling people you got the wound from having to tackle your only friend was less than ideal. You snorted to yourself. Truly, you should have more questions or concerns with Jungkook, but you just didn’t have it in you anymore. You spend the entire first two years of your friendship insanely weary, and you already spend your time like that with everyone else. It was nice to have someone you didn’t need to constantly be on guard from. Your fingertips ran over the bandage, hoping that you had made the right choice, but even then, it was far too late to change anything now.

You liked Jungkook more than you cared to admit, even to yourself, so when you heard his telltale knocking on your door in the middle of your morning cable surfing, you didn’t even bother to turn off the TV before going to the door. You rolled your neck before opening the door with a bored expression when Jungkook’s wide eyes met yours, “Morning, sport.” You drawled, leaning against your door frame.

Crossing your arms over your chest, Jungkook took notice of the bandage on your forearm, “Did I do that?” He asked worriedly.

You shrugged, looking away from him, “If you think about it, the needle is technically the culprit–”

“Y/n, I’m serious.” He pleaded, making you straighten up, but your gaze stayed fixed elsewhere, “Look at me, please.” He spoke, and you cursed yourself for obeying. You were accustomed to following orders, and something about the way Jungkook bothered to say please made it that much easier to listen to him, but you could only hope he didn’t realize this. “Did I hurt you?” His gaze burned you, and it made you hate his need for eye contact at times like these.

You sighed, examining the guilt on his face. The look made you feel like an asshole even though you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t like this part of your friendship. The serious, gravelly talks about what he did last night or about whatever breakdown of yours he happened to witness. The care in his eyes was suffocating, but addicting all the same. It made you feel self-conscious about your lack of clothing, but you were sure not even a parka wouldn’t make you feel any less vulnerable. The honesty in his eyes curled around you like smoke that you had no choice but to inhale and exhale right back to him. Flat-out lying to Jungkook has seldom been an option, especially about things like this, “Fine, when you woke up you were panicked and somehow made my hand slip and caused the needle I was working with to give me a little scratch.” You explained, eyes begging to avoid his again.

“That’s a big bandage for a little scratch.” He observed skeptically and you slipped your arms behind your back. He sighed, “I’m sorr–”

You shook your head. Much like actual birthday gifts, apologies had been foreign to you before Jungkook, and you didn’t like to nor know how to accept them, “I promise, it’s no deeper than a paper cut.” You looked up at him through your lashes, his expression now unreadable, which was somehow worse than the guilt.

He raised a brow, utterly unconvinced, “Let me see.” He wasn’t asking or pleading this time, but you didn’t have it in you to go against him.

You rolled your eyes, “Only because it’s about time to take it off anyway.” You huffed, only partially lying. It was time to let the wound air out a bit, but you both knew it wasn’t the only reason. You had spent most of your life taking in and thriving on the fear, guilt, and despair of others people. You loved the taste of the power you wielded, but nothing was more sour on your tongue than Jungkook’s dim mood. You turned around, peeling off the medical tape and walking to your counter as you heard your door close. Throwing the dressing in the trash, you looked at the wound with a nod before spinning to face the man approaching you, “See? It’s nothing.” You presented the thin line of scabs to him. He studied it, face still unreadable that was, until you flinched when his hand darted out to hold your wrist. The horror in his eyes made you feel physically ill as he went to withdraw, but you panicked and moved to hold his hand there, “Come on, you know it’s not because of you.” You reasoned, voice barely above a whisper.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded solemnly. The question of who it was burned his tongue as he pressed his mouth closed. He’d seen more than enough of your episodes to know that you had plenty of reasons to flinch and he had to swallow the urge to find every single reason and end them with his bare hands. Horrible things happened to you, and he wasn’t sure if not knowing was worse than what would become of him if he ever found out. He diverted his gaze back to the scratch, and you wanted to ask him what he was doing until he leaned down. Your breathing ceased as you watched his lips brush lightly over the wound in the form of the softest kiss he’d ever given you, “There, all better.” His joking tone was strained with his smile when he stood straight again, but you appreciated the effort.

His chest felt a bit lighter when you smiled softly, “What a hero.” You deadpanned.

The reality was that Jungkook wanted to rip the door off its hinges, he was so pissed off at himself. Plus with that door gone, there’d be just a bit less between the two of you, and he needed to ignore why that sounded so sickeningly sweet. Regardless, he knew you hated moments like these, moments where the air was still but heavy with a million unspoken words between you two, so he felt compelled to throw out a light comment since he couldn’t outright comfort you that often, “I’ll be more careful, I promise. I’ve just been so…”

You nodded sympathetically, “Yeah, this week is pretty rough for me too.” You sighed, staring at the way his thumb absent-mindedly rubbed along your skin. The affection created a pit in your stomach that you couldn’t explain, but you promised yourself it was just how friends felt for each other sometimes.

“Hey, I think you’ve been doing pretty good lately.” He chided softly, and a mix of embarrassment and pride filled you at his words, “I haven’t slept with you in weeks now.” He pointed out, and the fake pout on his lips made you chuckle, mind still partially lost in the way his thumb stroked your arm.

You knew he was just trying to lighten the reminder of how your screams would wake him up some nights. On those nights, Jungkook would all but break down your door in an effort to sleep next to you. It was weird for you, even still, sleeping next to someone. It brought out feelings in you that you didn’t want to deal with, so you did your best to make Jungkook’s presence in your bedroom as rare as possible, “Miss me?” You asked sarcastically, still so lost in his ministrations. Affection is something you’d only ever gotten from the man in front of you, so it was hard to tell if it would feel this nice from anyone else.

“All the time.” He responded quickly and with so much sincerity it made your chest seize for a moment. Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking his eye contact with you for just a moment, “I hope Namjoon wasn’t a dick to you.” He spoke, snapping you out of your trance with his touch as you retracted your arm, almost deluding yourself into thinking he tried to hold onto you for a split second.

“He was just being protective of his baby.” You snickered at how Jungkook bristled with the term, “A protective dick, but I get it. I’m a total stranger–”

“Hey, you’re my best friend.” He chided, with a smile that was a bit less strained than before.

You scoffed, “I’m your only friend.”

He shrugged with a more amused grin, “I said what I said.”

You rolled your eyes, “Anyway did you only come to–” You were cut off by your phone buzzing on the table.

Both you and Jungkook knitted your brows at this. It was degradingly rare for anyone other than him or work to call you, “You cheating on me?” He playfully asked and you pushed him by the shoulder before going to answer the call.

You picked up the device cautiously, “It’s a random number.” You said lightly, but something felt wrong. “Don’t tell me I’m about to get a ton of prank calls because I pissed one of your boyfriends off?” You tried to joke as the phone finally went to voicemail.

Jungkook snorted at this, “Yeah, Joonie’s not the prank call type.”

“No way? He seemed like a real court jester.” You sarcastically said, making your friend laugh more.

“A+ on the tone, B+ for the reference.” He chuckled, and you beamed at this. Jungkook spent the first two years of your friendship helping you grasp the ins and outs of day-to-day interactions, so it was nice to see how far you’ve come. “I haven’t heard the term ‘court jester’ so casually, like, ever, but it gets points for creativity.”

“You know me, I’m a real artist- ugh, again?” You looked down at your phone as it buzzed again with the same number.

“Just answer, maybe it’s important.” He reasoned, and you nodded but the idea made you feel sick, “Oh, but put it on speaker I wanna hear if it is a prank call.” He grinned

Pushing the feeling of unease down, you rolled your eyes and answered, putting it on speaker, “Hello–”

“Y/n! Y-You gotta get me out of here, I’m–” Ice water flooded your veins as the man’s voice invaded your senses. Your eyes bulged once you fully realized Jungkook was standing right there, hearing this god-forsaken voice and you gasped before taking it off speaker.

“Who is this?” You seethed, lying to everyone in the room. You’d know that whiny voice anywhere. Goosebumps sprouted along your arms and your stomach churned as your uncle's shaky breathing entered your mind, “How did you get my number?” You demanded quietly as you turned from Jungkook and put some distance between you both.

“Y/n, they found me and I’m–” He coughed and your eye twitched, pathetic.

“Lose my number.” You ordered, moving to hang up.

“I’ll tell them!” He shouted, making you pause. You didn’t even know who “they” were, but you certainly didn’t care to find out, “I’ll tell them who you are, where you are–”

“You don’t know that.” You called his bluff, but fear soaked into your rage, dampening its strengthening effects on your body. You could feel yourself getting smaller with each millisecond of silence that followed.

“I have your number.” He challenged, and you scoffed. That was undoubtedly all he had. Jungyoon had never been built for the mind games, he was the muscle and nothing else, through and through.

“Won’t be mine for much longer, I promise.” You fumed quietly, and the whimper that leaked from him told you that was all the leverage he had, or at least you hoped so, “I’m not the one who was on national fucking TV just so I could watch a stupid fight, so you dug your grave. Don’t pass me the shovel.”

“Wh-How can you even say that I’m–” He tried desperately.

“You must have the wrong number if you’re planning on finishing that sentence.” You forced out before hanging up. You let out a shaky breath before throwing your phone on the couch.

Byungjoo was caught. If he was caught that meant you weren’t safe anymore. Were you ever really safe? Why did you stay in the country? What were you thinking? Did you seriously think Byungyeol would come back from you? Did you seriously stay in the same place he lost you like a child? And now what? You were dead, utterly dead–

No. You were safe. You had to be. You never went anywhere, and your face was never known by the public or that many people in the organization. You were smart, you had–

“Y/n, hey, hey.” Jungkook’s voice cut through the radio static that heightened the panic in your head.

You looked at him, eyes wild but in a state he’s seen before, “I-It…” The words died in your throat as panic held you in a vice grip. Your nails dug into your palm, and the pain did nothing to satiate you as your knees buckled. Jungkook caught you before you could hit the ground, and you almost wished he hadn’t. You’d give anything to feel the pain radiating up your leg, the linoleum against your palms, anything to remind you that you were in your home and not wherever the hell the people who took Byungjoo planned to take you. You steadied yourself, the haze of panic subsiding momentarily, “I’m okay.” You lied, placing your hand on the couch so you could stand on your own.

“Who the hell was that and why–” You cut Jungkook off with a look, a look you’ve both used on each other, a look that begged him not to pry so you don’t have to lie to him, “I just… I’m worried.”

“Don’t be worried.” It came off as more of a plea than reassurance, and you cringed.

Jungkook wet his dry lips as he looked you over. You were talking, but you still had that look in your eyes that promised you wouldn’t be able to for much longer. His chest ached as he watched you try to crush the panic down and put on a brave face for him. More than anything, he wanted to cup your cheeks and promise you it was okay, and if it wasn’t, it will be. He wanted to fix it so badly, do anything to ensure that you weren’t about to break, so against his better judgment, he spoke, “I heard you say something about seeing him on TV, was it that guy from work–”

“Yes.” You said too quickly, and he tensed, “He’s… uh, just unhinged, and it just unsteadied me a bit.” You nodded, the fib burning your tongue, “I guess the principal saw him last night and he got in trouble…” You sighed, it was exhausting to do this, and you didn’t want to have to do this at all, “I don’t know it just…” You simply couldn’t do it. You couldn’t force any more lies out, you didn’t have it in you to do much other than clasp your hands over your ears and squeeze your eyes shut.

Everything you’d built for yourself flashed in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. In an instant, it could be taken away, and there’s nothing you could really do about it. You weren’t nearly as lethal as you used to be, and judging by the little you’ve heard about the heads of Bangtan, you’re training would pale in comparison to their abilities. It took them no more than a year to dethrone your father, and you had no doubt it would take them no more than a second to end your life. Now, it was no longer a matter of if, but when they were going to catch up to you.

—

Disgust infiltrated your sorrow as you watched Byunjoo smile lovingly while his wife, Minji, explained how your deaths would go with a little too much “pep in her step” as she would say to you when you were reporting the gruesome details of a job. She was disgusted with you for several reasons, but she was perfectly fine with your father, so it didn’t make sense when he directed just about everything you did. Nevertheless, you sat straight-faced as you heard the plan. Although you weren’t sure what she or your uncle was so proud of, the plan was quite simple.

You were to burn it all. You were to watch the house you grew up in, the house where you took your first steps, said your first words, and had your first kill, crumble to smithereens with the empire you were supposed to inherit. Something, though, was missing. The list of names of the people who would live to watch the ash and smoke was noticeably… short.

“...Now we will have to get rid of everyone who knows your face, y/n-” Minji explained, that sickening smile on her hot pink lips but the disgust she held for you never left her eyes. You weren’t sure what you did to make her hate you so much, but you hardly cared now that you hated her just as fiercely.

“No.” You immediately spoke, and you could see your father stiffen in the corner of your eye, but you only broke your stare with your aunt when you heard Byungjoo sigh.

He and Minji were the only two that didn’t completely crumble under your unwavering stare, and it was times like these that it irritated you. Byungjoo was the right-hand man to your father, and he was a ruthless man. He loved nothing but money and his treacherous wife, even hated everything but money and his equally soulless wife. One exception, however, was your father, and he only claimed to love you because your father did.

“Y/n, it's for your safety.” Byungjoo explained as if you were a child, as if he spoke to you with any kind of decorum when you were a child, as if you were so easy to pacify when it came to the slaughter of the staff in this house that raised you.

“If you do it, I will throw myself into the fire,” You seethed and Byungjoo chuckled, assuming it was a joke. He always did that. Took your defiance of him as a silly comment or you being a rebellious teen, regardless of the fact that you were about to be 19 and never respected him enough to consider your disagreements rebellions, “I swear on the blood of my father, I will die with those people,” Byungjoo ceased his giggles immediately.

Your father, however, took your death threats seriously off the bat. Byungyeol was not stupid enough to take the little words you spoke as anything other than what you meant. He was the one who taught you not to waste your breath, after all. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if your death would make a difference, but there was that glint in your father’s eyes still that told you he just might care. His dying pride remained intact barely and you, his only child, were his only legacy, a legacy that needed to live on.

Byungjoo may have been a bumbling idiot, but he could see the resolve in his brother's eyes. Minji had no such tact as she clicked her tongue in distaste, “Y/n-”

“Let it go.” Your father’s voice sounded, startling the couple silent while maintaining sharp eye contact with you, waiting for your gaze to waver even slightly. When you remained headstrong he sighed, “Make the list of who lives, y/n, and they will.” He spoke with a finality you’ve heard countless times before turning to your aunt and uncle, “End of discussion.”

—

You should’ve done it. You should’ve opted to burn. Regret pooled into your senses until it was all you could feel, until the only thing you could see was that beckoning flame, calling your name to come home.

Just as you could feel the sting of tears behind your lids, you felt him. Two hands slid over yours and rhythmic tapping reverberated throughout your skull from above your ear. You slowly opened your eyes, and Jungkook occupied your line of sight. He did you the grace of looking away. You weren’t sure if it was because of the shameful sight in front of you or if it was because he knew you were embarrassed, but you liked to pretend it was the latter.

1, 2, 3, 4

Jungkook swallowed thickly as he listened for your breathing to stabilize. He looked above your head at the clock on the wall and sighed. He was going to be late for his meeting with his team on digging up the whereabouts of the most coveted target. He could easily walk away, but he stayed rooted in his spot, tapping in quartets as he waited patiently for you to calm down. Though he didn’t understand your affinity for the number, and you never disclosed it to him, he was thankful to be observant enough to notice it at times like these. So he watched the seconds tick by as he tapped, pausing for a few seconds in between each grouping, because the thought of leaving you alone like this felt like it would kill him. He already has a hard time sleeping knowing you’re just a few steps away, there’s no way he’d be able to work knowing you were in the throes of an episode. Finally, your breathing was becoming consistently normal until–

“No.” You whispered with something utterly sick to his ears laced in the word. It was fear. You were scared, and he had no idea why. Never in your years of friendship had he seen you truly afraid like this. He looked at you, boundaries be damned, and saw you were fixated on the TV.

Turning his head to see what it was, his entire body froze.

You had left the news on, and on it, Namjoon stared back at you as he conducted a press conference… as head of Bangtan Corporation. It was like your world ceased turning. The pressurized cracks on your life here gave in the moment you looked to Jungkook and realized he saw what frightened you, and you could see the wheels turning on why it could be. No poker faces could be had between you as despair reflected in both of your pupils. You were terrified to discover one of his boyfriends was the head, or at least one of the heads of Bangtan, and he was devastated to find out you knew enough to be afraid.

It was over, for both of you.

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Masterlist

#bts mafia au #bts fanfic #bts series #bts poly au #ot7 x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #bts x reader #mafia bts #yandere mafia bts

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hum-suffer · 11 months ago

Text

I'm Yours 4

Warning: it's not too explicit but I'd rate it nsfw just to be safe. They're just kissing lol (baki you can read, it's legit no plot)

____________________________________________________

Mayank is... something great. He's self assured, cocky and easy to get along with.

The way he slid next to Ishan and danced with him on Dil Di Nazar made Ishan want to scream with joy. The man knew the steps to the movie music video and Ishan instantly gave him brownie points.

Now, they go back and forth, dancing on Señorita as they go and Ishan laughs at the way Mayank butchers the Spanish, instead saying some very unflattering things in Hindi.

Mayank grabs his hand and spins him around, abruptly dipping him. The smile on his face shrinks and Ishan almost wants to hit the man. He controls his urge and takes a step back. He doesn't like being touched so intimately, not at all in a crowd like this. His partner doesn't seem to care much and continues to dance and another song starts to play.

Ishan only recognises the song when it's halfway done and Mayank is holding his hips loosely and dancing completely off beat. Dhan Te Nan is a fast song and this man is dancing almost way too slow for Ishan to even think decently of him. The brownie points are deducted instantly.

Mayank languishly closes his eyes and moves his body in a way that it grazes Ishan's. Ishan closes his eyes too, deciding to enjoy his time out even if it's with someone who doesn't know when to grind and when to dance.

A hand dances at his back, finger tips drawing mindless patterns.

Ishan moves in tandem with the beat as it slows down at the end of the song and slightly raises one of his foot to graze the inside of Mayank's leg.

He opens his eyes to see his reaction but before he can actually discern anything, the lights turn off and another song starts. Uff Teri Adaa starts to play, Ishan knows it because he has it by heart by now.

The club is way too dark without the lights, no windows available in the room. Ishan finds he likes the feeling. The hand from his back and hip disappears abruptly.

Ishan feels arms wrap around his waist from behind. It takes his added brain a moment to understand it but the arms don't feel the same as they did a while ago when he was dipped.

These arms are stronger and hold him in a more comfortable manner. He can break away if he so wishes.

Ishan continues to dance, marvelling at his luck to be suddenly of interest to more than one person.

He feels a forehead at his shoulder, and the arms at his waist shift, fingers splayed over his stomach. The hands are cold, he can feel them perfectly through his thin shirt. Perhaps the stranger had been holding a glass.

From the minute space between two buttons, the stranger slips a finger inside Ishan's shirt as they dance pathetically slow to the song. Ishan can't find it in himself to care about either Mayank or the song or the dance. The cold finger on his warm skin makes his muscles contract and breath hitch.

Ishan throws his head back and the stranger shifts again, nuzzling up Ishan's throat with his nose. Ishan feels teeth graze the corner of his jaw in the imitation of a bite before lips are pressed behind his ears.

"You told me I'm yours," the stranger speaks in a deep voice. Ishan is a bit disoriented from the loud music, but he thinks he's heard the voice before. It's a throaty, raspy voice. "But you're mine too, love."

The pet name brings him back to Earth.

There's only one person who calls him that.

He doesn't know what it says about him but instead of running, Ishan tilts his head further. It's the alcohol, he tells himself.

(He lies. He barely drank a sip of beer before he passed it off to Aditi because it tasted like bullshit.)

The lips shift and he feels a smile at his nape. "I don't let anyone else touch what's mine, love. Won't you be a good boy and cooperate for me?"

Warmth pools in his stomach. He stiffles a groan and sneers in the dark. "And yet, I've yet to see the one who belongs to me. Do you want to upset me, sweet boy?"

Fuck the fucking beer.

(Fuck his need to be so fucking possessive. Fuck his need to know. Fuck the warmth he's feeling in his blood right now.

Fuck him.)

He hears a groan and feels the vibrations on his skin and the way the a huff blows the hair at his nape. Ishan shivers as the finger over his torso slips out and the hand snakes up to cup his throat.

He gulps and he's sure the admirer can feel it. Ishan can feel his shiver at his back.

"Be a good boy, Ishan," he says, and Ishan almost combusts at the way his name sounds, so desired and so wanted and so so passionate. "Walk with me."

Ishan nods, his curiosity makes him a slave as the admirer slides the hand away from his throat and again wraps both his arms around Ishan's waist as he's led to a place he doesn't know.

The grip is still loose enough that Ishan can shrug him off.

He doesn't.

____________________________________________________

The admirer stops them when they're in another room. It's dark here too, no lights.

Ishan feels himself being pushed against a wall and then his body is covered with warmth again, hidden under another's.

"Tell me to stop and I will," the admirer says, and Ishan wants to hug him. He doesn't, but just nods.

The next thing he knows, there's hands all over his body. A hand goes behind his head to shield him from the wall and other one goes back to his hip. There's lips on his brow and they trail down slowly, almost painstakingly.

Ishan whimpers, shivering with the effect the hot breath and cold hands have on him. Before he knows what he's doing, his hands are raising and he grabs the shirt that the admirer is wearing and—

Motherfucker.

It's his shirt. His blue silk shirt.

The texture is the same, the small fake diamonds forming a curve at the second last button is the same. Ishan bunches up the fabric in his hands and groans when feverish lips press at his cheeks.

"Stealing is a crime," he says, panting. The admirer chuckles.

He retorts,"If you belong to me, so does your shirt, love."

"I don't belong to you."

"Yet."

The hot kisses shift downward, to his jaw and then his throat. Ishan tenses up for a fraction of a moment when he feels his a hand on the centre of his chest where he's left the top two buttons open.

A finger trails down saliciously.

"You wore this for me, love?" The admirer says, his breath coming faster as if he's affected by their exchange as much as Ishan is. He moves his face and buries it in Ishan's throat, licking almost sweetly at the base of his throat.

Hysterically, Ishan is glad that he's forgone to use any perfume on his skin and instead opted for a light ittar on his clothes. He doesn't think tasting perfume would have been pleasant for the admirer.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when teeth graze at his throat again before he's actually bitten. Ishan can't supress the groan he feels and automatically, one of his hands flies from the shirt to his admirer's hair. His hair is soft, Ishan notes distantly as he grabs a handful— to shove back or forth, he doesn't know.

The admirer seems to take the decision for Ishan as he moves, barely an inch, and bites his skin again. Ishan feels him lick the area with the tip of his tongue.

"No one puts their hands on you, do you understand, love?" The admirer asks.

Ishan doesn't know how to answer that and the hand previously on his chest goes down to grab his shirt and pull Ishan closer. Ishan feels another bite at the corner of his jaw and keens, pulling the admirer closer by his hair.

"Do you understand, Ishan?" He asks again, voice directly in Ishan's ear before he bites his earlobe.

"Yeah," Ishan pants. "Yeah, yeah, I do. I understand."

He is rewarded handsomely for his agreement.

The free hand, the one that isn't tugging him by the shirt and making him feel things he definitely should not be feeling, slithers around his body. The admirer slips his hand in Ishan's back pocket and squeezes lightly.

Ishan gasps, digging his nails in the skin of the admirer's neck.

"Can I kiss you, love? I'll leave you alone if you say no, I promise." The admirer sounds so sincere and so sober. Ishan is drunk on the feeling of his hands on his body. He wants more. He shouldn't, he knows, this admirer could turn out to be a psychopath for all he knows, but.

But his touch is absolute sin. And Ishan has never been a saint.

"Please." Is all he whispers.

The last time Ishan kissed someone was four months ago, when they were playing truth and dare and someone dared him to kiss Aditi. It was awkward and hellish to kiss his best friend of years. Plus, she'd been eating garlic bread, so it was worse.

His admirer? He tasks like ice and something fruity. His lips move against Ishan's, slowly at first, as if he can't believe it and then he absolutely devours Ishan. The admirer groans against Ishan's mouth and Ishan slips his hand under his, Ishan's ,untucked shirt and splays a hand over the man's torso like he did with Ishan not too long ago.

The admirer slows down and Ishan breathes deeply as they pull apart. He wants more. He wants it back.

With all the strength he can manage with his limps so loose and thoughts out of sorts, Ishan flips them so the admirer is pushed against the wall where Ishan was standing. He keeps him there with a hand on his chest and he hears a pop, only to realise that the admirer actually ended up breaking a button on Ishan's shirt with his sudden shift.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, his voice sounding rough and croaky to his ears. "Please, baby, let me. Let me please you."

The admirer whimpers and Ishan feels the nod from where his hand still lies against the man's neck.

Ishan kisses the admirer like a man starved and moves his other hand to cup his cheek. He can feel the shapely jaw and high and full cheek bones. Ishan moves his hand to cushion the admirer's head as his kiss turns more ardent and Ishan has the wildest idea to stake his claim as well.

He can feel the throbbing on his neck, jaw and throat, and knows that he will have hickeys. It's only fair that he gives repayment.

The admirer groans as Ishan bites at his jaw and his Addam's apple, panting in Ishan's ear in the way that only encourages him.

He swipes his tongue over his admirer's neck and plants a final hickey at his jawline, just an inch away from his chin.

Impossible to hide.

His.

Ishan's.

The way that the admirer whimpers makes Ishan want to do unspeakable things to him. But before it can go any further, the admirer plants a hand over Ishan's mouth. Ishan blinks owlishly even if it's of no use in the bloody dark room.

"I have to go now," his admirer says roughly and shifts. Ishan feels the impact he has had on his admirer. He feels proud for some inexplicable reason. "But we will meet again, love. And until then, no one else touches you, okay?"

Ishan wants to say something scathing and sassy but he purses his lips and nods. "Okay. Can I see your face, at least?"

"Not today, love. Someday else." And there's a hand over his eyes now.

And again, Ishan let's himself be led by a man he doesn't know.

It's only when the cold of the hands disappear from his body that he opens his eyes to see himself at the dance floor again.

Ishan doesn't see Mayank for the rest of the night.

____________________________________________________

Tagging: @kyayaarkiraa @fortunatelycrazyyouth @khwxbeeda @ek-ladki-bheegi-bhagi-si @ishkrisq @k-h-watari @ispeakmorelanguagesthanyou @ms-potato @onthecloudseven @mayakimayahai @athena-swords

#Shubhman gill #ishan kishan #fanfiction #dude i swear i mean no disrespect pakka #im just a girl who's obessed #cricket #ishman #shubish #mayank Agrawal #bro lmao i almost forgot that i added him as a character lol👩🏻‍🦯#sorry bby

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oldiesstationlover11607 · 2 months ago

Note

🎶Hello, is it me you’re looking for?🎶

Salutations! It is I! 💛! Your favorite yellow emoji! I am sorry I haven’t requested anything recently. I just went to my show last night actually and so I’ve been busy prepping for that and traveling! It was amazing by the way! God it was like I dream! You’ll love it when you see them! Also, the last one shot was so cute and fluffy and I love it so much! When he gave the reader his shirt 😭!

Anyways, my request. At my show, Tyler made an innuendo on stage which inspired this. I was wondering if you could do a story where Tyler has a game where he tries to subtly flirt with the reader as many times as possible on stage. Maybe it could be talking, maybe it can just be him winking at her or something like that. Maybe after he does it one night, fans notice and they explode on twitter or something. Idk. I know this may be a stupid idea, but I felt like it could cute and fluffy if you want to try it! ☺️

P.S. Would you be willing to write for Spooky Jim (Josh’s blurryface persona)? I have possible ideas for that. To me, he’d just kinda be the same as Blurryface, just with Josh. But, you could see him differently (I’m sorry if you’ve written him before and I just didn’t see).

Flirt - Tyler Joseph x Reader

Relationship: Tyler Joseph × Reader

Warnings: Tyler flirting - innuendos, Tyler kissing the reader and being extra

Word Count: 1844 - I lowkey feel bad for these being short but it kinda fits the request prompt lol

A/N: Welcome back bestie 💛 anon! I hope you like this one - Tyler has been so unhinged lately it's been hilarious. I'm so glad you enjoyed your show, I can't wait for mine :) And YES of course I'm willing to write for Spooky Jim! I love Josh so much lol and I can imagine his blurryface persona being so much more heartbreaking considering Josh is such a sweetheart. I haven't written him yet but I'd can't wait to see your ideas!

It had come around to that part of the album cycle again where Tyler and Josh were on tour and for the first time since Tyler and I had gotten engaged, I was on tour with them. We were about halfway into the shows when we stopped in LA for a two night stay. Tyler had gotten up much earlier than I–as usual–to make sure everything was set up and to do a soundcheck before the show. We normally slept in after the late nights with Tyler getting up around 12:00 and I at 1:00 (although Tyler did make sure to bring me food when I was still in bed). After an afternoon of exploring the city, we made our way into the dressing room, waiting for fans to pile in. He scrolled through social media and did some vocal warm ups before sitting down on the couch with me. Josh was sitting in front of the mirror, mostly ready with the exception of his hair, which he was redying.

“How’re you feeling?” I asked Tyler.

“Pretty good. It’s gonna be a good show, I can feel it.” Tyler could always tell how the shows were going to go–even before getting onstage–and everyone else around him could tell exactly how he was feeling. He had a calm look on his face, as if he was reflecting on plans for the show.

“How much time do we have?” Josh asked, leaning back from the mirror to look at the analogue clock hanging on the wall.

“About thirty minutes I think,” Tyler said, chugging the Red Bull can he’d picked out from the mini fridge.

“Where do you want me during the show?” I questioned, each venue having a different ‘best spot’ that Tyler wanted me ‘stationed at’. Last night it was higher up in the venue in a VIP section for friends and family, which was cool because he could see me the whole time.

“Just off stage works best. Debby’s going to be under the stage to help Josh before routines so if you want to hang with her then that’s cool too,” he explained.

“Yep, I think she’s preparing everything down there now with Mark,” Josh got up. “I’m going to go wash this out.” He pointed to his hair and walked into the hallway in the direction of the showers, leaving Tyler and I alone. As soon as Tyler was sure Josh couldn’t see he wrapped his arms around me and dragged me onto his lap.

“You look good today babe,” he smirked, looking me up and down. I could feel the warmth spreading through my face. He always found the best moments to make me blush with his words. I moved in closer so he was hugging me close, my chin resting on his shoulder.

“You look better,” I laughed, ruffling his hair. He chuckled, pulling me even tighter against him. he nuzzled the side of my head and planted a soft kiss on my forehead, before continuing

“I don’t know if I agree with you on that one.” He was never one to back down from teasing. He continued to hold onto me, gently massaging your thighs as you sat on his lap. Josh walked back into the room, his hair dry and back to its bright red peekaboo color.

“We should probably get you where you need to be,” I chucked, looking at the clock and climbing off Tyler’s lap. He pouted, reaching his arms out and making grabby hands in my direction. “Come on.” I grasped his hand and pulled him up next to me–his hand staying intertwined with me even after he got up. We walked out of the dressing room and out into the hallway where the boys would usually split up. They hugged, patting each other on the back and smiling.

“Have a good show,” I smiled, waving goodbye to Josh and following Tyler to the right side entrance. He held my hand as he followed behind the security guard, the sound of screaming fans pouring in through the walls. Tyler smiled widely, his expression practically screaming excitement and adrenaline. As soon as the guard opened the door the noise in the room multiplied, the room filled with screams and cheers, making it hard to even think. He held my hand tightly as he followed the guard, the room around us slowly shifting from the dim hallways to the bright stage being lit by lights and strobe. He stopped just off stage, taking a few breaths before he turned and faced you, his smile still beaming.

“I love you,” I smiled. He pressed his lips to mine, cupping my jaw and slipping his tongue just inside my mouth. Something was different about him, like he had some sort of agenda or something to prove to me. He pulled back after a short while, gently biting my bottom lip as the music started playing.

“I love you too,” he smirked, running onto the stage and turning on his celebrity persona. Tyler bounced through his first few songs, running around the stage and acting like his usual self. He was clearly high on adrenaline, with his brain focused on making sure the show ran smoothly. He made his way to the mic at the center of the stage for the talking break. As he began, he made direct eye contact with me, sending a cheeky smile my way. “Is everyone having a good time?” he shouted into the mic and pointed out to the sea of people who screamed back at him. “I can’t hear you. Scream louder for me!” He waved his arms in the air to the entire audience who screamed louder than before. “There you go,” he looked off stage at me and smirked knowing full well what he was doing. After a few more songs he moved to different parts of the arena for Ride where he was planning on getting people to sing the choruses with him. I had decided to sit under the stage with Debby who was watching, helping Josh to get changed for the next song. “Where’s my right side daddy?” I could hear Tyler shout through the speakers. My jaw dropped.

“No fucking way.”

Josh laughed under his breath, looking at me with raised eyebrows. “Yep.” As each chorus went by I nodded my head along to the beat and Tyler’s voice.

“This is not happening,” I covered my eyes.

“It so is,” Debby laughed, helping Josh into his jacket. The song continued until Tyler got to the last chorus, in the pit.

“Oh my pit children, you need a daddy too,” Tyler’s voice moaned slightly making my knees go weak. He needed to stop this or it wasn’t going to end well for either of us. Debby was keeled over in laughter and I was mortified. This wasn’t happening. By the time they’d finished Paladin Strait and come off stage before the encore he’d continued to make suggestive jokes. Little did anyone know that each of his little jokes was perfectly aimed at me and as every one landed I got more and more worked up and embarrassed. Running offstage, Josh went straight to Debby and Tyler to I. My arms were crossed as he stood in front of me with a large and proud smirk slapped onto his face.

“What?” he shrugged, taking a drink of water and jumping on the spot.

“You know what,” I scoffed, clenching my fists and biting my lip to hide the smile I could feel coming on. I was terrible at being mad at people and Tyler always managed to unleash the happy side of me in the middle of every argument we’d ever had.

“Yeah I do,” he kissed my cheek and ruffled my hair. With my brows furrowed I wrapped my arms around him, not wanting to let him go. As he rested his chin on the top of my head everything around us disappeared. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as the smell of sweat and Red Bull poured from his pores. I didn’t care though, he was mine and he’d been driving me insane for the last hour and a half. Fans continued to scream as the end of the Paladin Strait music video played and Josh appeared next to us. I let Tyler go as the intro for Jumpsuit started playing. Josh ran back on stage to his drum kit but Tyler paused on the stairs looking at me. I shot him a wave and he mouthed the words ‘I love you,’ pressing his hands against his heart, ‘I know,’ I mouthed back with a short roll of my eyes before he bounced back on stage. I stood there, heart pounding, watching him take command of the stage once more, his voice raw and powerful as he sang the opening lines. The lights pulsed in sync with the music, and the crowd, already hyped, seemed to reach a new level of frenzy. I could see him glancing my way, just for a moment, every now and then. It was subtle, but after the stunts he'd pulled earlier in the set, I was more than aware. He was still playing his little game, flirting with me in front of thousands of people who had no idea the winks and smirks were meant for me. As the song ended, Tyler paused at the mic again, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“You guys are incredible tonight!” he shouted, and the crowd roared in response. He turned slightly toward the side of the stage where I stood, his eyes glinting mischievously under the lights. “But there's someone over here who’s got me feeling... extra good tonight,” he teased, his voice dropping a little lower. I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. The audience, completely oblivious, ate it up, screaming and cheering at the implication. Twitter was going to be in shambles after this. He’d never been this bold on stage before, not with me watching from the sidelines. And I knew for a fact the fans would pick up on it. There was no way they wouldn’t. When they finished playing Trees and saying goodbye to everyone, Tyler ran off stage, completely drenched in sweat and buzzing with post-show energy. He didn’t waste a second before wrapping his arms around me, spinning me around in a tight hug. “How’d I do?” he asked, his breath hot against my ear, still catching his breath from the performance. I smacked him lightly on the chest, still smiling despite myself.

“You’re impossible. You know that?” He grinned, leaning down to kiss me softly.

“I only did it because I love you.” His smirk returned. “And because I love seeing you squirm like a bug.”

I shoved him playfully. “Yeah, yeah. Just wait till Twitter gets a hold of this.” Tyler chuckled, pulling me close again.

“Let them talk.” His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, “You’re the only one I care about, anyway.”

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ichorai · 2 years ago

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blueberries ; one.

pairing ; joey tribbiani x gn!reader chapter synopsis ; the one with runaway brides, pregnant wives, and homewreckers. wc ; 8.5k warnings / includes ; talks of sex/suggestive content, mild cursing, mentions of cheating, reader is a physicist and also bisexual, literally everyone in the group is fruity other than ross lol

series masterlist. main masterlist.

The pretty waitress strode towards you with a sweet smile, your warm cup of tea balanced on one hand, and Joey’s slice of double fudge cake in the other. She dropped it by the table and you noticed a small piece of folded paper by the edge of your cup.

Once she was gone, you picked up the paper and unfurled it, a smile growing across your lips.

“Whatcha got there?” Chandler asked, peering over your shoulder.

“I think it’s the waitress’ number,” you replied, folding it back and pocketing it safely within your jeans. “She’s real pretty.”

Joey, already halfway through with his cake, teasingly spoke around a full mouth, “Too bad you never leave the house other than to hang with us. I can take that number off of you if you never end up using it.”

You shot him a half-hearted scowl, but remained quiet.

Just then, Monica and Phoebe strolled into the cafe, taking a seat on the large sofa beside you and Chandler.

“There’s nothing to say, really,” the dark-haired woman told Phoebe in a defensive tone. “He’s just some guy I work with.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Joey asked, having fully inhaled his cake in a matter of minutes.

“Monica’s going out with someone,” you replied, wrinkling your nose in amusement and curling your legs up beneath you. You drank a sip of your tea as an excuse to hide away from her withering glare. “Isn’t that right, Monica?”

A roguish grin stretched across Joey’s features. “Come on. What’s the catch? You’re going out with a guy—there’s gotta be somethin’ wrong with him.”

“Does he eat chalk?” Phoebe queried, placing a comforting hand on Monica’s shoulder. “I don’t want you to go through what I went through with Carl, you know?”

The five of you grimaced at the memory of Carl.

“It’s not even a date!” said Monica, brushing her dark hair away from her face. “It’s just two people going out to dinner—and not having sex.”

Chandler scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sounds like all the dates I’ve had.”

It was then that Ross came into the cafe, drenched from foot to toe. You glanced behind you to the window, surprised to see that it had started to rain without you realizing. It looked like your long-time friend was crying, but you couldn’t really tell if it was rainwater or tears that were on his face.

“Hi,” he mumbled, morose.

You arched a brow. “You okay, Ross?”

He shook his head, squeezing between you and Chandler on the sofa. The two of you grimaced when his sodden clothes dripped all over you, and Chandler rolled his eyes before getting up and sinking into another chair.

“Feels like someone reached down my throat, ripped out my small intestine, pulled it out of my mouth, and tied it around my neck.”

“Cookie?” Chandler offered. Ross ignored him.

Monica sighed. “Carol moved her stuff out today,” she offered as an explanation, knowing Ross would take well over an hour of moping to finally get to the point. “Let me go grab you some coffee.”

As his sister left, Ross crossed his arms, swatting Phoebe away when she tried to cleanse his aura, as she often did. “I’ll be fine—really, I will. I hope she’ll be very happy.”

“No, you don’t, Ross,” you quipped.

“No, I don’t! To hell with her, she left me!”

Joey snorted. “And you never knew she was a lesbian?”

“I knew—” you said pointedly. “Ross just never listened to me.”

“I didn’t think you were being serious!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know, sometimes you joke about things being gay and stuff so I just thought it was a joke I wasn’t in on. Because, you know, I’m not—”

Lightly punching him in the shoulder, you gave him a stern look. “I know you’re not gay, Ross. Why would I joke about your wife being gay?”

“I mean, you did say she was really hot once,” Phoebe chimed, much to your dismay. At your soured expression, the blonde spoke up again, “What? I think she’s hot, too!”

Ross buried his face into his hands, groaning loudly. “Why does everyone keep fixating on the fact that she’s a lesbian? She didn’t know—how would I have known?”

“Didn’t she tell you that she just kinda found dicks gross at one point?” Chandler asked, lounging in an awkward position on the chair. Ross grumbled quietly under his breath, clearly not wanting to continue the conversation of his wife being gay. “Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian. Being bisexual is exhausting—do I want a man to sweep me off my feet or do I want a woman to sweep me off my feet? I’ll never know.”

Monica came back with the cup of coffee, handing it to Ross before turning to you excitedly. “Hey, Y/N. The waitress was asking about you.”

“Oh, yeah? What did she say?”

“She wanted to know if you were single or not.”

With bated breath, you snuck a glance to the counter, watching the pretty waitress take another customer’s order.

“And?”

“I told her you were single,” Monica replied. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us…?”

“I’m single,” you reassured them. Ross made a strange noise that sounded like Chewbaca choking on a stick at the reminder of being single. “Ross, listen. It’s not your fault that your wife is queer—despite me telling you multiple times that she was—so let’s look at the bright side here. She’s not leaving you because of you. It’s the literal definition of it’s not you, it’s me.”

With a frown, Ross pried his fingers away from his still-damp face. “Yeah, I guess…”

Joey clapped his hands together, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “Alright, Ross, look. You’re feelin’ a lot of pain right now. You’re hurting. Can I tell you what the answer is?”

Ross nodded, apprehensive.

“Strip joints!”

The rest of you groaned.

Joey shrugged, genuinely confused as to why it wouldn’t be a good idea. “Come on, you’re single now! Gotta release those hormones somehow.”

“See, I don’t want to be single!” Ross exclaimed in exasperation. “I just wanna be married again.”

As if on cue, a woman ran into the cafe, wearing a rather large white wedding dress. She was soaked and breathless, and her dripping brown hair was a mess, and the white fabric was streaked with dirt and mud and city street gunk.

All of you blinked in surprise.

Chandler gestured to the door in a pleading manner. “And I just want a million dollars!”

“A million dollars really isn’t all that much—ask for a hundred million,” you told him.

“A billion dollars!” he shouted.

“That’s too much. Nobody should have a billion dollars.”

“A trillion dollars!” he yelled again, ignoring you completely.

You rolled your eyes, before turning your gaze back to the lost woman in a wedding dress.

Concerned, Monica stood up, expression twisted into one of part-disbelief and part-recognition.

“Rachel?” she asked as she approached the woman.

“Oh, my God, Monica, thank goodness!” She threw her arms around a stricken Monica, the white fabrics of her wedding dress just about slapping her in the face. She spoke quickly, voice crackling with emotion. “I went to your apartment and some guy with a big hammer said you might be here, and you are! Gosh, I’m just so happy to see you!”

The rest of the group watched the two of them with evident confusion, and Monica led Rachel to the couch. “Oh, everybody, this is Rachel, another Lincoln High survivor. Rachel, this is everybody—that’s Chandler, Phoebe, Joey, Y/N… you remember my brother Ross, don’t you?”

“Sure!” Rachel smiled brightly, strangely cheerful for someone in a ruined, soaking wedding dress.

To make space for her and her rather spacious dress, you got up from the large couch and moved to Joey, bumping his hip playfully to get him to scooch aside on his chair so you could sit beside him. The two of you fought over space for a bit before he relented, grabbing your legs and swinging them over his thighs. You sent him a smug grin as you leaned back comfortably and Joey only stuck his tongue out at you childishly.

“So, uh, are you going to tell us now or are we waiting for four wet bridesmaids, too?” Monica queried.

“Wouldn’t be so bad, huh?” Joey whispered into your ear, and you jabbed an elbow into his side to shut him up.

“Oh, God,” Rachel started, gesturing emphatically with her hands. It didn’t slip your notice when Ross sat up straight, watching the new woman with wide eyes. “It started about half an hour before the wedding. I was in this room where we were keeping all these presents and I was looking at this gravy boat! This really gorgeous Limoges gravy boat, you see. Which led me to realize that… I was more turned on looking at this gravy boat than by Barry! And I got really freaked out, because how could I get married to someone I think is less attractive than a gravy boat? And I just kinda stare at him and I realize that he looks just like Mr. Potato Head. You know, I always thought he looked familiar but…” she trailed off, looking ready to burst into tears. “Anyway, I just had to get out of there—and I didn’t know anywhere else to go. I know you and I have drifted apart but you’re the only person I know who lived in the city.”

Pursing her lips, Monica eyed Rachel quizzically. “... Who wasn’t invited to the wedding.”

Rachel grimaced. “I was kinda hoping that wouldn’t be an issue.”

You stepped into Monica’s apartment, waving hello to the group of friends gathered on her couch.

“Hey guys,” you greeted, plopping down next to Rachel, still in her wedding dress. “Sorry I had to duck out at the cafe—work called. What’d I miss?”

“Rachel’s staying at Monica’s place now,” replied Phoebe. “I sang her a song to cheer her up!”

From behind the sofa, Joey curled an arm around you, and his other went over Rachel’s shoulders. “Hey, Rach, if you ever need a place to stay—Chandler and I live right across the hall. And Chandler’s away a lot.”

“Can you stop hitting on her?” you hissed, swatting his hand away. “God, Joey, it’s her wedding day!”

“Hey, don’t be jealous. I offered you the same when I first met you!”

“Jo, honey, I had my own apartment then, and I still have my own apartment now.”

The man shrugged, pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the side of your head. “The offer still stands, sweetheart.”

Rachel raised her eyebrows, gesturing between the two of you. “So are you two… like…?”

“Oh, no!” you exclaimed, slapping a hand over Joey’s mouth to make sure he didn’t say something stupid. “He’s just flirty with everyone.”

Joey’s tongue darted out to lick across your palm and you quickly retracted your hand with an exclamation of disgust, wiping it over his jacket before shoving him. “You’re so gross.”

He trotted away to Chandler in the kitchen before you could hit him again, grinning like a fool.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Chandler peered through the peeping hole, and gasped in an overexaggerated manner.

“It’s Paul the wine guy!”

Phoebe tilted her head. “Monica, is your ‘guy from work’ date Paul the wine guy?”

With a smile, Ross placed a hand on his sister’s arm. “Oh my God, he finally asked you out on a date?”

“Y-Yeah, I was supposed to go out with him for lunch but…” Monica looked at Rachel on the sofa. “Rach, wait, I can cancel!”

“Oh, please, no, you should go, Monica! I’ll be fine!” the brunette assured her.

“Do you want me to stay, Ross? Will you be okay?”

Ross looked torn, but you sent him a nasty glare that clearly meant—stop being a whiny bitch baby and let your sister go. He straightened himself, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yes, of course. You should go.”

Monica skipped to the door with a bright smile, slowly opening it to reveal Paul on the other side with—what do you know, a wine bottle. You pressed a fist to your lips to hide your laugh with a cough.

The man was quite the looker, and you had to roll your eyes to the ceiling when Phoebe started giggling with Monica like schoolgirls. As Monica said her goodbyes and strode out the door with Paul, Rachel and Ross had moved to the kitchen, where he began asking Rachel what her plans were for the night.

“Well, if you’re feeling lonely, you can always come to my place—Chandler and Joey are helping me put together some new furniture.”

Chandler held up a sloshing glass of orange juice he fished from the fridge. “It’s gonna be a blast! I just can’t wait to hit nails with a hammer like a real man!” he said, practically dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh,” said Rachel as she got up. “I’m flattered, really, but I think I just want to unwind here for tonight. It’s been a long day.” She excused herself, heading to the bathroom.

Though Ross looked a little dejected, Joey and Chandler shrugged it off easily. “Hey, Phoebe, you wanna help out?”

The blonde pursed her lips in thought. “Mm, I wish I could, but I don’t want to.”

You snorted in amusement, slinging an arm around her.

“What about you, Y/N?” asked Ross. “Could really use the company right now.”

“Oh, sorry, Ross, I can’t,” you winced. “I’ve got to run some calculations for work before tomorrow. I’ve got a presentation first thing on Monday. But call me if you need help, okay?”

Apologetically, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Bye, guys. Tell Rachel it was nice meeting her for me, will you? I should get going now.”

“What, and I don’t get a goodbye kiss?” Joey asked, stretching his arms out with an exaggerated pout.

With a huff, you reluctantly gave him a hug, before swiftly pecking his cheek. “See you guys later, alright? You want a kiss too, Chandler?”

“Would be nice,” he replied, scuffing the floor with the heel of his shoe. “I’m touch starved.”

“We know,” the four of you replied in tandem, before bursting into laughter.

You leaned over to kiss Chandler’s cheek too, and then Phoebe’s for good measure, before waving one last time and sliding out the door.

It wasn’t even two hours later when you got a call, with Ross yelling something about how he couldn’t feel his legs and how his life was crumbling apart because Chandler hammered a screw into his bookshelf instead of a nail. Joey was in the background moaning about how hungry he was, and Chandler was screaming at Ross to calm down, which obviously made Ross even more upset.

So there you were, standing outside of Ross’ door with two boxes of pizza and sleepy eyes. You passed out on top of your work an hour through, the ringing from Ross’ call being what shocked you awake.

As soon as the door swung open, Ross immediately enveloped you in a hug, speaking so quickly that it all went in one ear and out the other. Something about his lesbian wife, you supposed. You patted his back lethargically.

Joey came forward to take the pizzas off of you, somehow already managing to stuff half a slice into his face with one bite. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/N. I could kiss you right now.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Please don’t.”

Littered around Ross’ relatively empty apartment was a bunch of loose piles of wood and metal poles and silver nails and screws haphazardly strewn all over the floor.

“You guys are a mess.”

For the rest of the time, the three men ate as they watched you tiredly read over the manuals, before slowly but accurately assembling together the furniture. They all clapped once you finally put together the bookshelf—amazed at the fact that it didn’t topple to the ground as soon as you put one book on top, as it did when they tried.

“You’re good with your hands,” Joey commented slyly. “Wonder what else they’re good at.”

“I’ve been told I’m good at punching people,” you replied dryly, sitting on a single stool and leaning against Joey for support, seeing as Ross didn’t have a couch anymore. You closed your eyes sleepily, and he placed an arm around you. Quietly, you mumbled out, “If I fall asleep, just tell Ross it’s not because I hate him, okay? I have a feeling just about anything would set him off tonight.”

“What if there’s only one person for everybody, you know?” Ross blubbered to Chandler from across the room, proving your point exactly. “What if you just get one chance—and that’s it?”

Pulling a sour expression, Joey cocked his head as he said, “What the hell are you talking about, Ross? One person? That’s so… limiting. It’s like saying there’s only one ice cream flavor you like. Let me tell you something, Ross, there’s tons of ice cream flavors out there. There’s rocky road, and cookie dough, and Bing cherry vanilla! You can get ‘em with jimmies, or nuts, or whipped cream, if you know what I’m saying.” He winked down at you and you pinched his side. “Personally, I think I’m a mint chocolate chip. Chandler—you’re a raspberry sorbet. Y/N, I think you’d be somethin’ like blueberry cheesecake. And Ross… you’re a… vanilla. With nuts, if we’re going wild with it.”

Mildly offended that Joey called him vanilla, Ross opened his mouth to retort something, but Chandler beat him to it.

“You think I’m raspberry sorbet?”

Joey waved the both of them away. “Anyways, the point is, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to you! You got married when you were like, what? Eight? Welcome back to the world—grab a spoon!”

“Though, your options are a bit more limited seeing as you’re the only straight one in this room,” you chimed, lifting your head from Joey’s side with a sleepy grin. Ross shot you a dirty look.

“Honestly, I don’t know if I’m horny or hungry.”

“Ugh, you’re gross,” you complained, letting your eyes slip back shut.

Groaning in disgust, Chandler backed away. “Stay out of my freezer.”

Ross sighed heavily, sliding down the wall and slumping against it as if he were a ragdoll. There was a beer can in his hand, one that he claimed was Carol’s favorite drink, and he took a long swig.

“Grab a spoon, pfft,” Ross mocked. “Do you know how long it’s been since I grabbed a spoon? You know, even if I could get it together to ask a woman out, who’d I ask?”

Exhaling softly, you moved away from Joey (much to his dismay, he was just getting warm with you cozying up to his side), and sat down beside Ross.

“Hey, dude,” you said, nudging his arm. “It’s okay if you haven’t grabbed a spoon in a while. Grabbing spoons as quickly as you can won’t instantly make things better. Things like this take time—you don’t have to rush into anything. Whatever happens, happens man. You’ll be okay. I mean, it’s not like either of you did anything wrong. It’s just life, you know?”

Tears pricked the corners of Ross’ eyes. He ducked his head so you wouldn’t see, but you knew they were there nonetheless.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he mumbled, sniffling. Pursing your lips, you roped him into an embrace.

“Well, isn’t that nice?” Chandler said, biting down on a slice of pizza. He turned to Joey again with a furrowed brow. “Now back to the things that are actually important. Why on earth do you think I’m raspberry sorbet?”

The next morning, you found yourself having breakfast at Monica’s place, sitting between Chandler and Joey, who had just dumped the coffee Rachel made for them into your cup of tea while her back was turned.

You kicked both of them underneath the table, but smiled sweetly when Rachel came back, surprised at how quickly the two boys had downed their coffee.

“Would you like some?” Rachel asked. “It’s my first time making it!”

“No!” you blurted out, embarrassingly quick. “Sorry, I’m just—trying to cut back on caffeine.”

“Suit yourself,” she replied, before leaning back against the sink. “I do have a question for you guys though—do you, uhm… all have jobs?”

Monica cocked her head, biting into her buttered toast. “Yeah, we all have jobs. See, that’s how we buy things.”

“Ugh, capitalism,” you muttered under your breath, taking a sip of your mug before realizing that it was full of the bitter coffee that Rachel made, and tried to discreetly spit it back out. Joey noticed however, and patted your back sympathetically.

“You and your fancy words, Y/N,” he said, as if you were just making the word up.

Rachel pulled the dark bathrobe tighter around her figure. “What do all of you do?”

“Well, you know I’m a chef,” said Monica. “Y/N is a physicist, Joey is an actor, and Chandler… uhm… Chandler plays with numbers and data and all that.”

“Wow! Would I have seen you in anything?” she asked Joey.

“Eh, mostly regional work—”

“He was in that Wee One’s production of Pinocchio,” you put in, earning yourself a pinch to the thigh. You grinned at him cheekily.

Chandler barked out a laugh, mimicking the line of, “Look Geppeto, I’m a real live boy!”

“I’m not taking this abuse,” said Joey, standing up to head to the door.

The two of you apologized quietly, before Chandler abruptly stood up and pranced out the door singing, “Once I was a wooden boy, a little wooden boy!”

Joey followed him back to their apartment, yelling out obscenities along the way.

You rolled your eyes. “Love to talk more, ladies, but I’ve gotta head to work.”

“What exactly do you do, though?” Rachel asked. It wasn’t often that you saw someone genuinely curious about your work, other than Ross.

“I specialize in quantum physics—I do quite a bit of research for my field, and propose theories, and sometimes I lecture students working on their doctorate degrees. In fact, that was how I met Ross—we were both teaching at the same university for a couple months and became friends, and through him, I met the rest of the group.”

Rachel blinked at you with amazement. “That sounds amazing! Do you know how I could get one of those?”

“Er… what?”

“You know. A job. Like the rest of you have.”

Sending Monica a confused glance, you said, “Rachel, have you never had a job before?”

“Well,” she taps her finger against her lips, “I’ve babysat for cash before. Does that count?”

“Oh, honey,” simpered Monica from beside Rachel. “Good luck finding one. I’m sure there’s plenty of restaurants or cafes looking to hire a waitress.”

The memory of the waitress from yesterday flashed into your mind—with her pretty eyes and sweet smile…

You shook your head, before checking the time. You blanched upon seeing that you were nearly late for your presentation. “Gosh, I gotta run. See you guys later!”

That night, the entire friend group sat around Rachel as she hovered over all the credit cards she had that were paid by her father.

“Come on, give her a break. It’s hard to live on your own for the first time,” Phoebe said.

Rachel frowned at the nice words, as if she was going to cry. “Oh, thank you, Pheebs.”

“Yeah, I remember I was fourteen and my mom had just killed herself and my stepdad was in prison! I didn’t know anybody, so I ended up living with this albino guy who was cleaning windshields outside Port Authority. And then, heh, what do you know, he killed himself, too. Then I found aromatherapy! So believe me, I know exactly how you feel.” The blonde smiled sweetly, and you couldn’t help but give her a one-armed hug from the side.

“Here,” Monica said, handing Rachel a pair of large orange scissors. “Just cut ‘em. You’ll feel so much better afterwards.”

The group began chanting ‘cut, cut, cut!’ as if it were some sort of cult ritual. Finally, Rachel straightened herself and cut through each of the cards, lips puckered in a pout.

“Welcome to the real world,” said Chandler.

“It sucks,” you chimed.

“You’re gonna love it!” exclaimed Monica.

The waitress was staring at you again. You could feel her eyes practically boring holes into the back of your neck. Apprehensively, you turned ever so slightly to meet her gaze, but she quickly pretended to be busy with wiping down the counters.

Joey snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing your attention back to him.

“Are you even listening?” he asked.

“No,” you replied easily, which made him snort out a laugh.

Monica gestured wildly as she explained again to the confused men. “It’s just, for us, kissing is as important as any part of it.”

“Yeah, right,” Joey scoffed. Once he realized that the three women were dead serious, he furrowed his brows. “Wait, you’re not pulling my leg?”

Nodding emphatically, Rachel said, “Everything you need to know is in that first kiss!”

With a shrug, Chandler put forth, “Yeah, I think for us, kissing is more like an opening act. It’s like the stand-up comedian you have to sit through before Pink Floyd comes out.”

Ross murmured his agreement rather sheepishly. “Right, and it’s not like we don’t like the comedian, it’s just that… that’s not why we bought the ticket.”

“What about you, Y/N?” asked Phoebe. “Do you prefer the comedian or… Pink Floyd?”

With a hum, you traced the rim of your teacup with your pointer finger before sighing. “I don’t really have a concrete answer for that, honestly. Both the comedian and the actual show are great, but—sometimes I don’t even want the comedian at all, and sometimes I don’t want the show at all. It depends on the person and the situation.” A bit quieter, you tacked on, “Sometimes the longer the comedian drags on, the better the show’ll be after. And sometimes the comedian and the show perform at the same time—you guys gotta think outside the box, here.”

The rest of the group blinked at you owlishly.

With a smile, Rachel whooped. “Y/N, you little devil! I didn’t know you were into foreplay! But you know what, you’re right. Maybe the comedian should never leave the stage!”

Heat flushed your cheeks at Rachel’s loud words. You wondered if the waitress could hear your conversation. “Woah, I never said that—”

“I’m confused,” Joey interjected. “Are we still talking about sex?”

You watched in amusement as Chandler and Joey began digging into Monica’s lasagne in search of Rachel’s lost wedding ring. A bit of sauce smeared over Joey’s cheek and you reached over to wipe it away with your thumb, muttering out how ridiculous they looked nearly elbow-deep in cheese and pasta.

There was a knock at the door, and when Monica swung it open, you were greeted with a forlorn Ross. Honestly, when wasn’t he forlorn these days?

“Hi,” he said, looking like he wanted a hole to open up in the ground and swallow him whole.

“Why the long face?” you asked, moving away from the pair rifling through the lasagna to the Geller siblings by the door.

Ross’ voice cracked a little as he replied, “Carol’s pregnant.”

“I found it!” Phoebe exclaimed from behind you, which was funny because she didn’t have any lasagna on her hands while the other two boys held handfuls of the pasta. She held the ring up, covered in marinara sauce and small chunks of beef, holding it out to Rachel.

Monica’s face dropped in shock. “Wh-Wha—? Wh… What?”

“Yeah. Do that for another two hours, and you might be where I am right now,” Ross said, walking into the apartment.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you led him to the couch for him to take a seat. “How do you fit into this whole thing?”

“Carol says she and Susan want me to be involved, but if I’m not comfortable with it—then I don’t have to be. Basically, it’s totally up to me.”

Phoebe called out from the sink as she washed her hands, “She’s so great! I miss her.”

They half-heartedly glared at her, but you stifled a laugh.

“What does she mean by involved?” asked Monica.

“Presumably, the biggest part of your job is done!” Chandler added, which earned him a light punch to the shoulder.

Scratching his head, Ross loosened his tie, feeling like he was being suffocated. “They want me to go down to this sonogram thing with them tomorrow. I have no idea if I’m going or not. No matter what I do, though… I’m still going to be a father.”

Clattering from the kitchen made the group turn their heads to see Joey practically attacking the lasagna with a spoon that was far too big, shoveling the pasta into his mouth. At the incredulous stares, Joey flinched defensively. “What? This is still ruined, right?”

Ross stood beside the television as he showed everybody the sonogram of the baby, a smile etched permanently across his face. “Isn’t that just amazing?”

You were just about to chime in about how big they already look, but Joey beat you to it by asking, “What the hell am I supposed to be looking at? Is that its foot or its head?”

“If you tilt your head to the left and relax your eyes, it kinda looks like an old potato,” Phoebe said as she squinted in concentration at the screen.

Ross eyed her warily. “Then don’t do that.”

From beside you, Monica started tearing up, and you could hear her little sniffles. Man, do the Gellers cry a lot. You wrapped an arm around her waist and she leaned her head onto your shoulder as the two of you watched the sonogram.

“How’d your date go, Pheebs?” you asked the blonde as she walked into Central Perk.

She made a noise of discontent, tugging her light blue coat off. “Not so good. He walked me to the subway and said, ‘we should do this again’.”

The rest of the group grimaced, saved for Rachel, who appeared confused.

“What? He said they should do it again—isn’t that good?”

“Uh, no,” Monica interjected, raising a finger. “Loosely translated, ‘we should do this again’ means ‘you will never see me naked’!”

Rachel reared back. “Since when?”

“Since always!” said Joey. “It’s, like, dating language. How ‘it’s not you’ always means ‘it is you’.”

Chandler nodded. “Or ‘you’re such a nice guy’ means ‘I’m going to be dating leather-wearing alcoholics and complaining about them to you’! Not speaking from personal experience or anything.”

“Or how ‘I think we should see other people’ means ‘hah! I already am!’” Phoebe added.

“And everybody just knows this? Y/N, you’re the smart one. Is this true?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “Well, I’d say it’s less about the phrase itself and more about how people use it nowadays. Nobody says ‘you’re such a nice guy’ without some sort of intention of friendzoning them, right?”

Rachel still appeared miffed, so Joey piped up, “Yeah, it cushions the blow.”

“Like when you’re a kid and your parents put your old dog to sleep and they tell you it went off to live on some farm,” Chandler explained.

From opposite you, Ross’ eyes lit up. “That’s funny, because our parents actually did send our dog off to live on a farm!”

The rest of the group stared at him.

“Uh, Ross—?” Monica started.

“Hello? The Milner’s farm in Connecticut? You don’t remember that? The Milners, they had this unbelievable farm and they had horses and rabbits that he could chase and…” The words died on his tongue as it slowly began to dawn upon him. “Oh, my God, Chi-Chi!”

The couch sank beneath your weight as you sat down, Joey’s script in hand.

“How could you do this to me, Tom? I thought we were best friends,” you read off the paper, trying your best not to laugh at Joey’s concentrated expression.

Joey was walking around with his hands perched on his hips, uttering the next line, “I was never only your friend. I loved you.”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment, before you allowed a smile to break through.

“That was great, Jo!”

“Yeah?” He cuffed you on the shoulder with a genuine grin. “Let’s keep going.”

It was then that Chandler walked out from his room, waving hello to you. “What’re you two doing?”

“Practicing,” Joey replied. “Got a big audition coming up.”

Clearing your throat, you read the next line, standing up so you’d be able to face Joey. “What do you expect me to say, Tom?”

Joey shook his head, shoulders slumping. You couldn’t help but be impressed at how quickly he could fall into character. “Tell me you love me back.”

“I…” You stared at him, watching the way his gaze would dart from your eyes to your lips, and back up again. Man, he was a great actor. “I can’t tell you that.”

He sighed, resigned. “Then I’m going out for a smoke.”

Brandishing a cigarette from his pocket, he used a lighter to set off the end, before inhaling sharply. Not a second later, he was coughing with a grimace plastered across his face. “Damn it! How am I ever going to get the part if I don’t know how to smoke properly? This tastes awful.”

“Relax your hand,” Chandler chimed, sitting down on the couch. “Let your wrist go. No, wait, not so much. Alright, good. Now try taking a puff.”

Inhaling softly this time, Joey looked to the side, white plumes falling from the edges of his lips. He coughed once more. “Nope, no. I hate this!”

“Okay, no, give it to me.”

“I’m not giving you a cigarette!” Joey protested, pulling his arm away.

“No, it’s fine. You wanna get this part or not?”

You sat back down, grinning. “If it’s any motivation, I think smoking is hot. I don’t find smokers hot because, you know—lung cancer and everything—but the act of smoking? That’s hot.”

Joey narrowed his eyes at you, before reluctantly handing Chandler the cigarette.

“Alright, don’t think of it as a cigarette. Think of it as the thing that has been missing from your hand. When you’re holding it, you feel right. You feel complete.” Slowly, he brought it up to his mouth to take a puff, and as soon as his lips touched the end, he let out a loud groan as he exhaled. “Oh, my God.”

You had to wrestle him to take the cigarette away before he could breathe in any more.

Later that night, you were back at Central Perk, sitting by Monica, who had her hand extended out in front of her. “They say that it’s from the tip of a guy’s thumb to the tip of his index finger.”

The three men, Ross, Chandler, and Joey, began extending their own hands, looking at the distance with disdain.

You chortled a laugh when Ross asked if he could use either thumb.

Rachel strode up to the couches with a tray full of drinks. “Alright, don’t tell me! Decaf cappuccino for Joey, black coffee for Ross, latte for Chandler, peppermint mocha for Y/N, and an iced tea for Monica!”

She handed out each drink with a proud grin, and none of you had the heart to tell her that she had gotten every drink mixed up—save for yours. You began nursing your mocha with a small grin to her.

“I’m getting pretty good at this!” she exclaimed. God, she was so cute, you thought fondly as she walked away to take another customer’s order.

When her back was turned, the drinks were finally switched around, and you watched in amusement as they hurriedly exchanged mugs. It was then that Phoebe walked in, making incoherent noises and hands fluttering about as she muttered.

“You okay, Phoebe?” asked Joey.

She waved him away. “Yeah, no, it’s not even worth—okay, I guess I’ll tell you guys about it. It’s my bank!”

Monica leaned forward. “What did they do to you?”

“I open up my mail and look at my monthly statement, and there’s five hundred extra dollars in my account!”

“Congrats!” you exclaimed just as Chandler sarcastically gasped out, “Satan’s minions at work again!”

“Now I have to go down there and deal with them,” Phoebe moped.

“What’re you talkin’ about?” crowed Joey. “Keep it!”

Vehemently, Phoebe shook her head. “No, it’s not mine! I didn’t earn it! If I kept it, it’d be like stealing!”

Rachel came back around with a cup of coffee, leaning over to tell Phoebe, “Yeah, but if you spent it, it’d be like shopping!”

“Okay, but I’d never be able to enjoy it, you know? It’d be like this giant karmic debt!” she cried out, clearly frustrated with the entire ordeal.

You would’ve replied with something to comfort her, but the thought was torn from you when you noticed Chandler awkwardly bent over the couch, as if trying to hide something.

“Dude, what are you doing?” you asked, peering over to look. “Damn it, Chandler!” you yelled, grabbing him by the belt and hauling him upright.

With a roll of his eyes, he sat up, white smoke falling from his mouth as he blew out, defeated.

“Gross!” Monica yelled.

“You’ve been so good for three years, I can’t believe you!” said Phoebe.

“And this,” Chandler held up the cigarette, “is my reward!”

Shaking his head, Ross held a hand out. “Hold on a second, remember what happened the last time you quit?”

“Okay, so this time I won’t quit! If anything, you should be angry at Joey and Y/N, they were smoking it all up in our apartment this morning!”

The two of you gasped. “No, we weren’t! I hate smoking!” Joey yelled. “Y/N was the one that said smoking was hot!”

You smacked his arm. “The act of it is, actual smokers aren’t hot! Don’t you remember what I said about lung cancer? Chandler, don’t pin the blame on us, you chose to smoke!”

Exasperated, Chandler groaned. “Fine. I’m putting it out.” He threw the cigarette into Phoebe’s coffee, much to her dismay.

“Alright,” Monica said, inching away from the group. “I gotta change—I’ve got a date soon.” You briefly remembered her mentioning that things hadn’t gone so well with Paul, so she was exploring the dating pool once again.

“Is this Alan again?” Rachel asked excitedly. “How’s it going?”

A smile spread across Monica’s features. “It’s going good! He’s nice.”

“So when do we get to meet the guy?” asked Joey.

“Hm…” Monica tapped a finger against her lips. “Never. See you guys!”

“Come on!” the group exclaimed after her.

“No!” she said. “Not after what happened with Steve!”

Snorting, Chandler shook his head. “What are you talking about? We loved Shteve. Shteve wash shexy!”

The rest of the group hid their laughter behind cups of coffee.

“Look, I don’t even know how I feel about him yet. Just give me a chance to figure it out.”

“Then we can meet him?” asked Rachel, hopeful.

Monica grinned. “Nope! Bye, guys!” With that, she skipped out of the cafe.

You drank the rest of your mocha, placing the mug onto the table and leaving a large tip for Rachel beneath the cup—you were honestly quite flattered that out of all the orders, she had gotten yours right.

“I better get going, too.”

“What?” asked Joey. “Where are you going?”

“Uh…” You scratched the back of your neck. “Work.”

Ross arched a brow. “I thought you said you had the day off today. What’s going on?”

“Oh, my God!” Phoebe exclaimed. “You’re seeing someone!”

The group burst out into a dozen questions at once and you held your hands up. “Woah, woah! I’m not seeing someone, I just—”

“Is it that waitress that gave you her number?” Joey interrupted, a bit less enthusiastic than everybody else.

Heat crawled up your neck and festered into your face. “Yeah, but it’s not a date,” you sighed. “It’s just a casual meet up.”

“So… sex,” Chandler deadpanned.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, sex. Don’t be such a child about it.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Rachel gasped, resting a hand on your arm. “And why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, a little whiny.

“Around, uh, a week, I think? And I didn’t tell you because it just feels… I don’t know, embarrassing?”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to be embarrassed around us!”

Joey blanched. “A week? How many times have you guys done it?”

“Oh, God, Joey, I’m not going to tell you about my sex life. I’m running late already—I’ll see you guys later!”

With that, you practically dashed out of the cafe, heart beating irregularly quickly and cheeks set aflame.

“Do you all promise?”

Ross rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mon, we promise we’ll be good.”

You nodded with a sweet smile in hopes of quelling her growing anxiety of letting her closest friends meet a guy she was dating.

Not a second later, Phoebe stormed into Monica’s apartment, sitting down right beside you and showing you a letter from her bank.

“Dear Ms. Buffay, thank you for calling attention to our error. We have credited your account five hundred dollars. We’re sorry for the inconvenience, and hope you’ll accept this football phone as our free gift.” She pulled out a large brown phone in the shape of, what do you know, a football, looking so cross you could’ve sworn steam was coming out of her ears. “Can you believe this? Now I have a thousand dollars and a football phone!”

Blinking in astonishment, Rachel snatched the letter from you, exclaiming, “What bank is this?”

The door rang, cutting any further questions about Phoebe’s strange bank off.

“He’s here!” Rachel exclaimed, throwing the letter away somewhere behind her, clapping her hands excitedly.

Before Monica opened the door, she clasped her hands together and addressed the entire group. “Please be good. Please? Remember how much you like me and try not to make fun of him too much.”

“So?” Monica started, anxiously brushing dark strands of hair away from her face. “Let the Alan-bashing begin. Who’s gonna take the first shot?”

The group awkwardly glanced at each other, strangely silent.

If you had to admit, you rather liked Alan. He was funny, charming, and had real pretty eyes.

“I’ll go,” said Ross. “Let’s start with the way he kept… ugh, no, I’m sorry, I can’t. Can’t do it! We loved him.”

The rest of them chimed in their agreement enthusiastically.

“Wait a minute, we’re talking about someone that I’m going out with?” Monica asked, incredulous.

“Know what was great? The way his smile was kind of crooked,” Joey sighed, dreamily looking off into space.

With a scoff, you slapped his thigh. “Watch it, Joey. Wouldn’t want you catching feelings for Monica’s boyfriend here.”

“Jealous, much? Want me all to yourself?” he asked flirtatiously, leaning down closer to you. You wrinkled your nose and shoved him away.

The rest of the group began chattering about Alan again, and how he did the best impression of David Hasselhoff.

You turned back to Joey. “Both of us know you can’t stick to one person, Jo.” Your words were meant to be teasing and light-hearted, but you couldn’t help but notice the way Joey’s face fell just a bit at your words.

“I can stick to you,” he said, uncharacteristically softly, fingers threading between yours. “You’re a pretty sticky person, you know?”

“Har, har, har. That’s funny, Joey,” you crooned sarcastically. “Also really gross. Don’t call me sticky ever again.”

Joey smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You decided not to say anything about it, and turned your attention back to the group and listened to them fawn over Alan.

Back at Central Perk, you had just come out of the bathroom in time to hear the gang berating Chandler for smoking again, and you sat down between Ross and Joey on the large couch.

“This is so unfair,” Chandler barked, blowing out white plumes of smoke. “So I have a flaw—big fucking deal! Like Joey’s constant knuckle-cracking isn’t annoying? Or Ross, with his over-pronouncing every goddamn word! And Monica, with that snort when she laughs! Or when Y/N refuses to get Chinese takeout because they use styrofoam containers and they hate the sound of styrofoam! I haven’t had Chinese takeout in months! I accept all of those flaws, why can’t you accept me for this?”

The entire group pursed their lips and dejectedly hung their heads in silence.

“You can just order Chinese takeout on your own,” you grumbled under your breath. “You don’t always have to have me there.”

“Yeah, well, then I’d feel bad!” replied Chandler, crossing his arms like a child. “I’d be chewing on my pork dumplings and thinking—man, I betrayed one of my closest friends for this.”

“Does the knuckle cracking bother everybody, or just him?” asked Joey, hands glued firmly to his sides, as if he had to consciously remind himself not to crack them.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you faked a look of reassurance, before deadpanning, “We could live without it, Jo.”

“Is it just a little annoying? Or is it like when Phoebe chews her hair?”

As if on cue, Phoebe spat out locks of blonde that she was working between her teeth. You coughed to hide your growing smile.

“Don’t listen to him, Pheebs, alright? I think it’s endearing,” said Ross.

Joey frowned, then spoke again, over-enunciating each word. “Oh, you do, do you?”

Monica snort-laughed, which made Chandler gesture erratically towards her.

“There’s nothing wrong with speaking correctly!” Ross defended.

“Indeed, there isn’t!” Rachel proudly gesticulated, also poking fun at Ross with overstretched syllables. At Ross’ withering glare, she squeaked, “I should really get back to work!”

“Otherwise, someone might get what they actually ordered,” Phoebe muttered quietly, but not quiet enough for Rachel not to hear.

The brunette’s jaw dropped. “Oh, so the hair comes out and the gloves come on!”

The entire group burst into a raucous argument, and you found yourself somehow defending and protesting against both Phoebe and Joey at the same time. From the corner of your eye, you could see Chandler get up and walk away with a skip in his step, and a lit cigarette in hand.

It was a little past two in the morning. You had barely thrown anything on except for a worn black hoodie and a pair of jeans that had holes in the pockets. But you just needed to leave—it felt like you couldn’t breathe in your own apartment.

A part of you considered going to Monica’s.

But for some reason unbeknownst to you, you found yourself in front of Joey’s bedroom, having gotten through their front door with an emergency spare key they had given you. This wasn’t really an emergency, but you’ve used it for lesser reasons.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you knocked on the door.

A couple seconds later, a groggy Joey swung it open, dark hair messily strewn over his head. He was rubbing his fists into his eyes, muffling a yawn as he said, “Oh, hi, Y/N. You missed a lot this afternoon—Chandler quit smoking, Phoebe found a thumb in a can of soda and got seven thousand bucks for it, Monica broke up with Alan and I’m obviously devastated about it but—”

He immediately stopped in his brief recap of the day when he finally looked at you properly, noticing the way your eyes were puffy and red, as if you’d been crying. There were dried tear tracks on your cheeks, barely visible beneath the dim moonlight streaming through the window across the room.

“Hey, hey,” his hands were on your shoulders instantly, roping you closer to him in a warm embrace. You buried your head into his chest, lips trembling as you staved away the burning urge to sob right into him. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Gently, he led you into his room, sitting you down on his bed.

“I don’t even know… it’s not that big of a deal, I just… felt so overwhelmed,” you croaked, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“What happened?” he asked, sitting down beside you and slinging a protective arm over your back.

“You remember that waitress that I had a thing with?”

Joey hummed.

“Well, she’s married. And she’s got a kid. I didn’t know, obviously. I just… I don’t know. She told me while we were messing around, like—how fucked up is that? I mean, it’s bad enough that you’re using me to cheat on someone that you’ve got a kid with, but it’s even worse to bring that up while we were… doing it, you know? I told her to leave and she begged me to hear her out. She wouldn’t go, and got angry at me for some fucking reason, so I told her I’d leave the apartment and if she wasn’t gone by the time I got back I’d call the cops on her. I know it wasn’t really my fault but—I still feel terrible about it. I don’t want to be the reason a family falls apart, Joey.”

You were shaking against him, and a stray tear meandered down your cheek.

There wasn’t really much Joey could say. He was never very good at comforting people.

He pressed a kiss to your cold forehead, brushing away haphazard strands of hair.

“You wanna stay over?” he offered, patting his bed. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Wordlessly, you pulled back his comforter and laid down, exhausted beyond relief.

Joey patted your back one more time for good measure, before getting up to head to the living room.

“No,” you mumbled, hand loosely wrapping around his wrist. “Please stay here with me.”

Hesitant, he asked, “You sure?”

Joey never got a response—you had already fallen asleep. With a shrug, he slid into the bed beside you, winding his arms over you and cradling you from behind. His nose pressed into your shoulder and he inhaled sharply, noting with pleasant surprise that you smelled like blueberries.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You shifted in his hold so that your arm laid over his that was thrown over your waist.

Joey fell into an easy, dreamless sleep in no less than a minute.

#joey tribbiani x reader #friends fanfiction #joey tribbiani fanfiction #joey tribbiani fluff #joey tribbiani angst #joey tribbiani smut #rachel green x reader #rachel green angst #rachel green fluff #rachel green smut #joey tribbiani imagines #joey tribbiani drabbles #rachel green imagines #rachel green drabbles #friends x reader #friends joey x reader #friends rachel x reader

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dropoutfailure · 3 months ago

Note

Would absolutely love to hear more about mishka and gus? Like anything really. Maybe you could explain the timeline of how their story happens (i love that kind of thing) or just tell me something you find interesting about them or just ramble whats on your mind?

I'm excited to answer, but are YOU excited for the wall of text you're about to see?? I probably overthought and revised this answer for way too long. these OCs have wayyyy too much lore and backstory which I might draw at some point. eventually.

backstory in short:

Mishka is a 22yo depressed lonely college dropout NEET trans guy. he's in love with his dad, bc he can't connect to new people easily, and his dad's the only one who has just always been there for him, unconditionally.

his 45yo dad Gustav is a woodworking teacher. a single father who's doing his best. caring, and maybe even lenient with his precious son. he does not reciprocate though. at first.

backstory in long:

so basically Mishka was doomed from the start. his mom was not good at being a mother (violent) and gave him childhood trauma. she left eventually, and dad became a single father when Mishka was 7-9. he comes out as a trans boy in his teens, 14-15. his dad is accepting but his school is not. he makes no permanent connections in 12 years of being in school. just internet friends.

Mishka drops out of college at 22 because of many problems piling up there (adhd, loneliness, misunderstandings, transphobia) and overwhelming him for months. he breaks down in the middle of his last year of undergraduate (he probably could've weathered the storm and finished...), gives up, drops out, goes home and holes up in his room, in his dad's apartment...

Mishka developed a crush on his dad while halfway through college, at around 21 yeard old, but thought he'd get over it and not feel that way anymore when he got back home. lol. lmao.

when dad hugs him after he gets off the train, that notion quickly disappears.

at first he tries to hide it. he doesn't want his dad to hate him. Gustav is happy to see him again, and can tell something's bothering his son, but can never get a straightforward answer. he's worried.

confession scene comic drafts:

eventually, after a month of being back home, Mishka says "fuck it, I've already fucked up my life, I'm already a social outcast, I'm already a garbagefire, I have nothing to lose, I'll tell my dad and either he feels the same or he disowns me!!"

(here, I'll add some sketches I've made for the confession scene. amongst other sketches.)

Mishka confesses kinda hopeful (delusional) that maybe his dad might feel the same.

...but dad does NOT feel the same... he takes some time to process what he just heard.

Mishka is red in the face, sweating, panicking, tearing up bc this is humiliating and painfully awkward and he "should not have told him, should have taken it to the grave!! fuuuuuck"

Gustav is confused and concerned. it doesn't register until he asks again and Mishka's like "this is humiliating enough, don't make me say it again...."

(I need to work out the dialogue here I think..... Gus doesn't disown him, he's extremely uncomfortable with the idea, but ALSO doesn't want to reject Mishka!! he's at a loss and doesn't know how to respond so he's like "it's late, I need some time to think, let's talk about this tomorrow")

he loves his son. but not like that.

(extra long post and more sketches under the Keep Reading)

and then there's an awkward moment / fake-out where Mishka may or may not have been aiming for a kiss. dad turns that down real fast though, uncomfortable. Mishka fears this may have just caused a permanent rift between them, that they can never be affectionate again, and begs him to forget the whole thing.

Gustav can tell that Mishka's gonna be agonizing over this (oh, Gus is too. but doesn't want to double the panic here*) and tells his son to not hurt himself. (Mishka tends to pull at his hair and scratch his skin up to release emotion)

*main things on Gustav's mind: since he's a teacher, he would not only get fired, but hunted for sport if he was actually in an illicit relationship with his son, so he really doesn't want to even entertain the idea. especially since he already feels like he's on thin ice at his workplace - he's good at his job, but it's an open secret that he's "gay" (he's not even gay, he's bi!!)

they retreat to their rooms to turn in for the night. Mishka writes to his bestie Kaito who's the only one he talks to about his feelings for his dad (strangers on the internet and people who took his incest vagueposting as a joke don't count haha).

Gus looks to the internet for any advice on this situation he never expected to be in as a father. "wtf do I do when my own flesh and blood, my own son, half my age, is in love with me, romantically? and maybe sexually?? how do I turn him down without hurting his feelings" he somehow phrases it in such a way that he mostly gets porn results, which is the opposite of what he's looking for! XD it's a very popular porn category and that makes him feel even worse.

here's another WIP I'm trying to work on about this scene. the confession, plus a moment when Gus remembers fearing homophobia in his teen years, but confessing to a classmate regardless (he's bi but most people assume he's either gay or straight)... and immediately shuts it down, thinking to himself "wait that's not even remotely the same thing!! s-some things are societally unacceptable with good reason!"

I'm just trying to work out the dialogue more, to better show Gustav's confusion, apprehension, empathy and an attempt at a gentle rejection.

afterward, they try to go on as normal but now that it's out there, Mishka gets bolder with his affection. and gets reprimanded. occasionally. Gustav's body welcomes the touch, but Gus himself is not happy with this for a multitude of reasons!!!! it's ok, he gets over his incest aversion. he may have felt some sort of way about Mishka's scruffy facial hair and deeper voice when he saw him again for the first time in half a year, but chalked it up to aesthetic appreciation? "what the hell, my son's grown so much... he's so cute... uh, objectively."

they got some mutual desperation and loneliness going on, they're perfect for each other.

I like this fragile and uncertain time in their life and relationship the most so I draw it the most. guilty and hesitant indulgence in forbidden fruit... typical will-they-wont-they situation. but it's like they-probably-shouldnt. but they will.

thanks for asking!! 💘 hope this has been an interesting read. glad you like my characters. :) if this caused more questions than answers, feel free to ask more about them!

#dadson ocs #sorry it's like barely about the backstory #just the details of the confession scene. I want to finish the sketches and make it a comic #ocs #dadson #shipcest #mishka and gus #dead dove #dadcest #mishka aka august #gustav #writing #long post #sketch #wip #info #ask

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pinkomcranger · 9 months ago

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I saw your post about Saga and I 100% agree. I love her character so much and was so happy they avoided stereotypes AND gave her agency. She wasn't there just to save Alan (the horrid magical black person troupe was avoided) she was there for people who meant something to her and they just so happen to work together by the end. Remedy truly wrote a fascinating character and got a great actress to portray her. I'm glad the hate died out from the reactionaries but the apathy from the fandom is just as bad sometimes. I love her personality and I honestly love AnderCase as a ship and incorporating Saga into ships (AndercasexWake is a thing for me lol). I also like them as friends, their dynamic is so damn good I want to see them in future games. However, I gave up writing Andercase because people just ignore it most of the time. The fandom in general kind of feels isolating if you don't like the standard ships/characters. It's discouraging and sad and makes it hard to want to post. I tried again and of course the fic did poorly so I don't bother, reminds me how little people want anything to do with Saga. Even general fics would be awesome if people are squicked by het or don't like Saga and Casey as a ship. The fan space for her and ships/dynamics with her is so small...Drawing her is scary too given someone was attacked over it, so that worries me too and I kind of backed away. There's barely anything of Saga in any fanworks and when women are involved they gravitate to Rose and in some cases Estevez (the Yakuza mod just broke my heart they did not think to add Saga before Rose who has less time and at a point people shipped Casey with Estevex BEFORE Saga like WHAT). I know that struggle you're feeling. Saga and anything with her is a footnote and I know it's not malicious but it sucks. Fandom favoritism does not help, even in the smallness of Saga fandom content only a handful are seen and the rest ignored. I've been there and seen it, it pushes newcomers away. I hope this gets better in the future but not holding my breath. Love Remedyverse/Remedy but the fandom space depresses me which sucks because everyone seems nice to me, just...sorry for the rambling. Just saw a post that resonated with my frustrations.

Do you know the thing that gets me the most about Saga? She was created by a white man. And he, along with the other writers, made SURE to avoid the stereotypes we usually get in black women protags, especially in video games. She has a power, yes, but she's not using it solely to save one person. She doesn't even know she HAS a power until halfway through the game!

She wants to save her daughter first and foremost and then Casey, she tells Alan this point-blank, save my daughter and Casey, non-negotiable, she's NOT helping him otherwise. And you can see that as selfish, but it's not, if it had JUST been herself thrown into the story? She would've been FINE with it, you see her getting more and more excited about the case. She's intrigued EVERY step of the way. It only becomes personal when Alan has the audacity to use Logan and Casey, that's her line in the sand.

Melanie puts so much into making Saga come alive, because as amazing as the writing is, she could've still fallen into the sassy black woman trope, and Melanie doesn't let that happen. I think the ONLY criticism you can give her is that her accent slips, but I really never noticed it. I agree that I'm glad the hate from the dumbass gamer bros, but like you said, the apathy can be just as bad, it's a choice to not say the quiet part outloud.

I genuinely wish they'd just say, she's a black woman, therefore, I'm not interested in her. I only care about the white men. At least be HONEST about it, instead of raving about how fun it was to play as Saga and she's so badass but not backing it up with actions.

I love Andercase with every fiber of my being. I loved them from their first scene, despite knowing she was married to somebody else. Casey is Saga's support, you see her loving to crack her puns to Casey, she even thinks of one and saves it to memory solely to tell it to Casey. Not Logan, not David, but Casey.

They mirror each other, again from their first scene, drinking coffee at the same time. A trait they keep, even as the horror story creeps closer. Casey wouldn't be even a little bit interesting to me if he wasn't paired with Saga. He's the moon and she's the sun.

I'm so sorry you were discouraged to write and post about Andercase, even just as besties. Because their dynamic IS gold, and it echoes even when they're separated. The second Kiran shows up and kicks Saga off the case, she gets over it, fine, she'll deal, but help her find her partner, damnit! I've enjoyed fics where they are just besties, the ones that ACTUALLY focus on them and, you know, doesn't make Saga the driving force for CaseyWake and nothing else.

I think that's one of the reasons it's hard for me to ship Saga and FBI Casey with anyone else, because they're each other's closest interactions for so much of the game. It's hard for me to ship Alan with them because I see him and Saga as the true platonic soulmates of the AW2 cast and Casey HATES Alan. All the way up the ending of the final draft. You can see it in his expression and body language, if he hadn't just been through the wringer and so happy to see Saga, he definitely would've punched Alan for all he shit he's put them through.

Writing a pairing you love, feeling so proud and happy about the work you've done, just to see it brushed aside is one of the most painful feelings as a creator. Fandom is supposed to be for EVERYONE, it's not supposed to be high school cliques that can't interact with each other. I don't ship Alan with Saga's Casey (it's just the only way I see him, heh), but I've seen some AMAZING fan art for them that's made me smile. But you rarely see Saga involved, which makes no sense in regards to her Casey. If it was fictional Casey, that would make sense, he doesn't exist outside of Alan's head, while Saga's Casey is a living, breathing person who spends most of his time with Saga or talking about her.

Yet she's relegated to the bro when her Casey and Alan only have her in common. I can't buy Casey being soft and domestic with Alan to save my life. I see it with Saga, I can see Saga being soft with Alan because she does show that side to him. That's who she is, if you've earned her trust and respect. You can tell Saga is always the "good cop" while Casey is the "bad cop." The only time you see him sympathetic towards Alan is when he first washes up to shore. He's mocking him but holding his tongue because Saga's not going to take that nonsense from him.

You only see Casey show the full force of his anger towards Alan when Saga isn't there to stop him. To say "Yes, THAT'S the actual love story here" is a...choice, one that actively ignores the on-screen narrative. Again, fictional Casey and Alan are a completely different topic and not something I care enough to write about.

NOBODY should be attacked for liking a pairing because what does that do? What does it accomplish except make yourself feel better and superior? Again, it's been a choice to ignore the two main women in the series, which are Alice and Saga. But I've seen quite a few fics where Alice gets to be paired with CaseyWake, while you'll be hard-pressed to find a fic where Saga gets to interact with them. That tells me something that makes me uncomfortable. And that's covert racism.

You can't even make the excuse that there's nothing left to learn about Saga, because that's simply untrue. We know the bare minimum about her family on the Anderson side, and absolutely nothing concerning her father (who is Warlin Door and I will die on that hill). We don't know much about her created family, certainly nothing about David, outside of the fact he likes Bright Springs, and boardgames and doesn't take his daughter to get checked out after she hits her head in the shower. The fact her entire identity ISN'T just Logan's mother and David's wife means so much to me.

You can't tell me it's because she's married either, because how can you say that in one breath and then ship Alan with anyone but Alice in the same breath? It genuinely leads me to think it's simply that she's a BLACK woman. And as you said, seeing people create ships for Rose and to pair Estevez with CASEY, when she's an out-and-out lesbian that Casey only meets near the end of the game speaks volumes.

I genuinely think if you swapped her race, she would be less ignored, and that's extremely fucked up. Saga was created with so much love, care, and respect. A black woman protag that we could get behind and feel represented by. A smart, strong, caring badass, who still retains her femininity, but who has an identity outside of "mother" even though saving her daughter is her driving force, it's not her only one. She cares about her newly found grandfather and great-uncle. She cares about Rose, despite the woman irritating her in the beginning. She worries for the residents of the nursing home. She has mixed feelings towards the CULT. And of course, her secondary concern is Casey. And once she sees how hard Alan is trying, she comes to care for him as well. Why else tell him he's a hero when she has every right to hate him more than anyone else in the game?

She cares about these people she's met, and she knows they deserve to be saved. And Alan is the first to admit he can't do ANY of it without Saga. If the main character of the series acknowledged Saga, why can't the fandom?

I truly hope that you can find the courage to try again with Andercase, or just Saga in general. Because I'm seeing that there are people that love her, and maybe they're not content creators but consumers, and that's now one of my motivations. To feed their hunger because they're part of the fandom too, and they shouldn't be ignored. I promise you, you'll have a fan in me. And sometimes, just one person knowing they love what you create and how they look forward to it is enough. I'm not interested in a popularity contest. You'll never see me in ship wars. I'm here for FBI Special Agent Saga Anderson. This is her story too, to make her the footnote in fanworks is terribly egregious and goes against the very thing Remedy wanted.

If you ever want to ramble, my inbox is always open. If you ever have ideas you want to see in regards to fanfic for Andercase or Saga, I'm right here. Thank you so much for giving me a chance to read about your feelings for Saga and her partner. It means the world to me.

#alan wake 2 #saga anderson #alex casey #alan wake #saga anderson x alex casey #andercase #sagacasey #alan wake 2 spoilers #my thoughts #meta #strong black woman #covert racism #ignoring an amazing black woman protag is a crime #sam lake and the remedy team worked too hard on Saga for her to be erased #the men in this series wouldn't be able to do a damn thing without the women #and Saga proves that time and again #anti CaseyWake #not actually anti but using the tag just in case

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aangstycareberrr · 2 years ago

Text

Partners

summary: college au / you and kenma get paired up for a project together and fun stuff happens

kenma x reader, ft. kuroo

part 2 part 3

a/n: first fic, kinda nervous teehee, feedback is appreciated. also this will be multiple parts sorry. also this is based on my own experience in a poli-sci class in which i wish i had a kenma lol

——————————————————

Intro to political science wasn’t your least favorite class. The professor was one of the good ones who made an effort to learn everyone’s name and keep the class engaging; it wasn’t too early so as to make you debate dropping it every single morning, nor was it too late that all you thought about was the day being over for the duration of it; it wasn’t your major but you still found it interesting and engaging; and the workload was relatively light for a poli-sci class. Despite all these great elements, there was one detail that put a damper on your enjoyment of the course, you were one of four girls in a class of 30. You originally thought it wouldn’t be so bad until you quickly came to the bitter realization that the men in this class had no interest in ever letting you or any of the other girls express your thoughts or participate in discussions; at least not without talking over you, and addressing you as if you were below them. It was exhausting.

So when the professor announces a group project for which he will be picking the partners, you silently cross your fingers and hope that you’ll be paired up with one of the other girls.

“Kozume Kenma and l/n y/n”

Upon hearing the announcement you let out a defeated sigh, quickly jotted some notes about the project down and went to talk to your partner. You realized that you didn’t recognize the name so he at least wasn’t one of the guys who made it a point to continuously disrespect you, but you still weren’t sure who he was. You looked around the room and spotted who you assumed was him. he was sitting in the far back and just like you, looking around, presumably trying to spot you, until you caught his eye. he’s cute. You gave a polite smile, he did the same and nodded, a silent agreement that you would talk about your plan for the project after class. did he really have to be cute. You were already feeling apprehensive about the prospect of having a partner who would treat you like you just learned how to read, this was an added level of stress that you didn’t need.

Class was over within a few minutes. As you gathered your stuff, you mentally prepared yourself for whatever this encounter could be like. You decided to be nice and keep your hopes up, despite the low chance of him actually being someone who deserved it, you didn’t want to go into this with a defeatist attitude. Kenma was already outside the classroom waiting for you when you walked out.

“hi” “hi, i’m y/n” “Kenma”

He had a gentle smile as he greeted you and you noticed him picking at the skin of his fingers a bit. he’s nervous too. Ironically, that calmed you down a bit. it was a bit awkward at first, as you worked out the details of when you would meet to work on the project and whatnot, but nowhere near as bad as you imagined. He was polite and let you finish every time you spoke. You knew it was the bare minimum but you were so beyond relieved.

You guys decided to meet the next day after classes at an on-campus coffee shop. You were a bit shocked that he suggested Thursday, since in your school, that’s kind of designated get-shitfaced-day (most people didn’t have classes on friday). Nevertheless you weren’t bothered, you weren’t going to many parties these days and would’ve otherwise stayed home to catch up on your favorite show at the moment. Thursday rolled around and as you started getting ready, you surprised yourself at how nervous you were for this. You realized halfway into picking your outfit that you were in date mode, you’d gone through three different options in search of that perfect “cute but mot trying too hard outfit” and you spent more than half an hour on your makeup. You felt silly but, god, he was really cute. For a moment you questioned if he really was all that cute or if you were just feeling the repercussions of not having hooked up in five months. you quickly brushed any unsavory thoughts aside once you realized it was about time to be heading out. You arrived a couple minutes early and texted him letting him know you arrived before ordering a latte for yourself. you checked your appearance on your phone camera and silently gave yourself a pat on the back, because you really did look so cute. After a bit, Kenma arrived. He wore a black t-shirt that was a bit oversized and gray cargo pants, his hair was in a loose low pony. he looked good. You waved at him so he knew where you were and he walked over to where you were sitting.

“hey”, you said, smiling up at him. He gave you a light smile right back as he sat down “hi”

“so we should get started, i was thinking we could do our presentation on The Prince by Machiavelli, i think there’s a lot of comparisons we could draw to the current western world”, you say trying your hardest to sound confident.

“I like that idea, i think that’d be really smart and the professor would probably really enjoy it.”,

“oh, thank you”, you say this a little surprised, although he had already proved himself to be nice, you were still half expecting him to ignore what you said, but he actually heard you out and called your idea smart.

“why are you thanking me?”

“just, you know, for not immediately shooting me down.”

“of course”, he opens his mouth and closes it a few times, looking like he wanted to say something else, which he eventually does, “you’re the smartest person in that class, i think it’s ridiculous that those guys never let you finish talking, you’re the only one who ever says anything worth hearing.” he says all this with a neutral tone, while typing something on his laptop, as if he just said the most casual thing in the world. you stared at him for a bit, shocked that he actually noticed that, and relieved that it wasn’t just in your head. He meets your gaze but quickly looks down, looking ashamed.

“honestly, i’m… a little embarrassed for just watching, someone should stick up for you and the rest of the girls, i’ve thought about it a bit, but i kinda have a fear of public speaking.”

he looks guilty but all you can think of is kissing him right then because he just looks so cute. you realize you’re staring and snap out of it once he meets your eyes again.

“it’s okay”, you reassure him with a smile, “it sucks but, saying something might just make it worse, besides i known they’re just insecure”

After that you start working on your presentation and everything goes smoothly. you and Kenma work together like a well oiled machine. He’s easy to talk to and work with, and you really feel like you guys are on the same wavelength with this project. Although he’s quiet, he’s actually very witty when he wants to be, and just the right amount of sarcastic, which makes him even more attractive. Within an hour you guys have gotten through way more than you thought you would’ve, so you decide to take a break. You get up to go to the bathroom and accidentally knock over your bag from where it was hanging on your seat, your switch flies out and almost collides fatally with the floor, when Kenma grabs it right at the last moment. If you weren’t overtaken with relief, you’d be turned on by his quick reflexes.

“oh my god thank you so much, that would’ve been so bad.”

“don’t worry about it”, he said while eyeing your switch, “what games do you play?”

“mostly stardew valley and animal crossing, i just finished undertale though and i think i’m gonna start it over and do genocide route”

“heh, good luck with that”, he says with an amused smile

“what’s that suppose to mean?”

“i’m just saying it took me a week to beat Sans, it’s tough.”

“oh and you think i can’t do it?”, you say playfully

“i didn’t say that”, he says while laughing the most beautiful laugh you’ve ever heard, and holding his hands up in defense.

you guys stare at each other while laughing, for a second, and you almost feel like you’re having a moment, like maybe he feels the same intimacy you feel in holding his stare, until…

“KENMA!”

you’re snapped out of your trance and turn to see a tall boy with messy black hair approaching your table.

“hey man”, says the tall guy,

“kuroo, hey”, kenma says quietly, he looks slightly annoyed.

“hey, i’m kuroo”, this time the greeting is directed at you

��hi, y/n”, you respond while feeling a little sad that the moment you shared with kenma had to be so fleeting.

“gotta say, i’ve been Kenma’s best friend for years and i think this is the first time i see him laughing so much in public, let alone with a pretty girl.”, he says teasingly, you look over at kenma to see his cheeks are red and he’s looking down, avoiding your gaze, he’s clearly embarrassed.

“kuroo”, says Kenma, sternly, silently asking him to stop.

“we’re working on a project together.”, you say trying to change the subject.

kuroo looks like he might say something else that will embarrass both you and kenma further, but he doesn’t, which you’re grateful for.

“well it was nice to meet you, y/n, hope to see you around. Kenma, i’ll see you tonight.”

as you wondered what tonight was, kenma responded, “i don’t know if i’m going”

“come on dude don’t bail on us again, everyone’s gonna be there it’ll be fun.”, kuroo tries to convince him

“i’ll think about it”, upon hearing this, you see kuroo looking like he’s mulling something over, something mischievous, suddenly he turns to you

“are you busy tonight?”, your eyes go wide and you’re not really sure what to say out of fear of agreeing to something you’ll regret. with your silence, kuroo continues, “our frat is having a party tonight, a ton of people on campus are going and i personally guarantee a good time”, kuroo finishes his pitch and you mentally debate what to say, a party doesn’t sound bad, it’s been a while since you’ve gone to one and it’d be nice to hang out with people, but you look over at Kenma and his face is unreadable. You question wether he would or wouldn’t want you to go, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. You give a vague enough answer, “i’ll try to make it”

Kuroo looks pleased at that answer, “great i’ll see you both there.”, he looks sternly at Kenma who only shoots him a dirty look. kuroo walks away and suddenly the playful atmosphere you had with kenma is replaced with an awkward, tense one. You feel bad, like you accidentally overstepped into his world

“i’m sor-“ “im sorr-“, you both spoke at the same time and laughed. “you first”, you say.

“im sorry about kuroo, he’s annoying”, you laughed and brushed off his apology,

“not at all, but im sorry.”

“what? why are you sorry?“

“about the party, i know it might be uncomfortable to have your classmate there, i don’t want to impose myself in that part of your life.”

he stares at you confused for a moment, then laughs a little

“no, no, no, that’s not an issue at all don’t even think about it. go to the party, as long as it’s what you want and not just something Kuroo pressured you into.”

you smile in disbelief at him for a bit.

“okay, then i think i will go”

“okay, then i’ll see you later”

he’s smiling too. is he happy i’m going?

“i thought you said you weren’t sure if you were going”, you say teasingly

“if you’re going then i’ll definitely be there”

You slightly widen your eyes for a moment, taken aback that he would say something so direct, his face tells you he’s taken aback by what he said too.

“you know, to show you around and stuff”, he backpedals

“i’ll see you later, kenma”, you can barely contain your smile and you want to walk away before he sees you blush. You think he has to like you at least a little bit, there’s no way you’re reading these signs so wrong.

You head to your apartment, with a bounce in your step, exited to get ready for this party.

#haikyuu!!#kenma fluff #hq kenma #kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x you #kozume kenma x reader #kenma x reader #college au #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu au #kenma imagine #hq #hq kuroo

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