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jungkxook · 4 years ago

Text

—pour up. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader x taehyung

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / fuckboy!taehyung + smut

⟶ words: 14,048 (idk how it’s literally just smut)

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: sleeping with both notorious frat boys kim taehyung and jeon jungkook doesn’t sound so bad ━ especially when you’re drunk and faded.

⟶ warnings: mentions of drug/alcohol use, essentially pwp lol, threesome, double penetration, voyeurism, messy rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dry humping, manhandling, doggy style, riding (sort of?), fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), face riding, face fucking, deepthroating, breast play, slight begging (mostly oc making jungkook beg hehe), brief name calling, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog! also shout out to miss jlin @bratkook for being the sweetest and for liking this trashy fic of mine, and a happy early birthday present to @onherwings miss juno, the resident taekook lover!! 💛

also the accompanying song to this fic is pour up by dean!

There were times when you were sober where you were persistent about never being in a five foot radius of a frat boy, much less strip yourself of your dignity long enough to sleep with one.

Your appalling disgust and immense irritation of the male species that were frat boys kept you well in tune to your rule ━ until you’re far past the point of drunk and faded. Only then, when your bloodstream is laced with alcohol and your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud of smoke, you shrink into a shameless hypocrite and favour the appeal of a simple hook up. But you have needs too; it isn’t entirely your fault. Kim Taehyung offers you exactly that, with the promise to then act as if nothing happens the very next day so that the two of you can revert to despising one another out in public.

You act as if no one knows about your flings with ultimate frat boy Taehyung almost every weekend, as if they’re just as oblivious as you, but damn near the whole school knows and most certainly the rest of the boys in Beta Tau Sigma, or as Taehyung puts it, his brothers. It’s a useless cycle of bicker, avoid, drink, sex, and repeat, ever since you joined the school as a freshman and the sophomore boy took an interest in you. He’s charming in all the right ways and good looking but his smooth appeal was almost too good to be true and, past his “kind” smiles, you could make him out to be arrogant, vain, and cocky. Maybe you would have given him an actual chance had it not been for his snarkiness but all your brain could truly handle was his dick for a few hours a week.

Unsurprisingly, you always end up crashing at Beta Tau Sigma after one of their raging parties that results in your hook ups with Taehyung; surprisingly, Taehyung is miraculously into pillow talk post-sex and so he doesn’t entirely mind if you stay the night. But, by morning, when the alcohol has all but turned into a terrible hangover, he can hardly care less if you stay or not.

Usually, you wake up on your own, courtesy of past sober you setting an alarm on your phone to make sure you wake up earlier than all the other walkers of shame and anyone else in Beta Tau Sigma. Ideally, it was to help guarantee that no one would ever see you or judge you for stooping low enough to sleep with a fuckboy but you don’t know how well that’s working out for you anymore, if you’re being honest.

That’s why, early one fateful Sunday morning after a night of fun with Taehyung, you awaken with a start to the shrill Marimba tone that rips through the silence of the room and causes you to literally jump out of bed and crash onto the floor. You groan at the sharp pain that shoots up your spine and accompanies your groggy mind as your eyes flicker open only to be greeted with a blinding light that is the sun as it filters through the shut curtains. Littered on the ground are clothes, your clothes, beer bottles, red solo cups, discarded bed sheets, a singular condom wrapper (you thank your past selves for at least being sober enough to remember to use one), and your cell phone.

“Turn that shit off, for fuck sakes,” he grovels.

His hangover, and the early morning, makes his already deep voice even rougher, huskier, and you blame your disoriented mind for thinking he sounds even remotely sexy. He doesn’t bother to lift his head from his pillow or to find where you are in the room, the messy longer-than-usual curls of his hair flopping into his lashes as he flips onto his back. Other bodily remnants remain from the night before, from the mellowing ache between your legs left in the wake of his dick sufficiently railing you to the bite marks on his neck that you had so graciously bestowed him.

Now, you roll your eyes at him instead but dive for your phone nearby and tap the snooze button before it wakes the entire house and rouses the army of fuckboys from the dead.

“Good morning to you too,” You remark. “Is that better, princess?”

“Much.”

You push yourself to your feet and stretch, the stiff joints in your body popping and cracking, before searching for your clothes. You’re certain Taehyung has fallen back asleep as you dig around through the clutter to find your belongings but what else is new? It’s a routine the two of you have come to know well, and one that neither of you mind. You spot some sort of lacy material hidden underneath a few of Taehyung’s dirty laundry laying on the floor and reach for it thinking it’s yours. You’re only mildly disturbed to find that it isn’t yours at all ━ though you’re more concerned about the hygienic purposes of touching some other girl’s thong than you are about the blatant fact Taehyung sleeps with more girls than just you (a fact you swear you could care less for).

“Jesus Christ, your room is a disaster,” You scoff now.

“You could clean it,” Taehyung suggests sluggishly. Now, he’s awake, pretty and hooded eyes fluttering open to find you nearby. He props his hand behind his head to lift his gaze a little higher.

You snort, tossing the underwear away. “You never cease to━”

“Amaze you?”

“Repel me more than when I see the collection of thongs you have hidden in your room,” You correct. Fortunately, you spot your own underwear nearby and scoop it up, quickly slipping into them.

“Aw, baby, is that a bit of jealousy I hear?” Taehyung asks. He runs a hand through his dishevelled dark locks and shoots you a drowsy smirk. “You know you’re my one and only. I can always count on you when I want good head.”

“Please, flatter me some more, Tae,” You quip dryly.

As you hastily slide into your stiff shirt and jeans next and turn to face him, combing your fingers through your hair, Taehyung seems to take your words to heart and tries again. “You look like shit.”

You feign a voluntarily loud and overly dramatic moan. “Ugh, you really do know how to treat a girl━” Your cut off by a shameless snort from Taehyung before you continue on, “You know, you don’t exactly look the hottest right now either.”

“I beg to differ,” he replies nonchalantly. Technically, he isn’t lying, but you refuse to feed his ego any more.

“As if.”

“Funny,” he hums. “Could’ve sworn last night you were calling me hot when you were begging for my dick.”

You don’t bother to reply. Instead, you shake your head as you rub your tired face, uttering, “I need a coffee.”

“You could stay,” he offers. “I can make you one.”

“You don’t even know how to boil water,” You retort. “But thanks for the gesture. Try not to throw up on yourself today, okay?”

Taehyung mumbles something in response but then he’s already flipping over onto his side to fall back asleep again. You grab your bag from the floor and slip into your shoes before tiptoeing out of the room.

The Beta house is just as much a disaster as Taehyung’s room is and you find yourself stepping over more bottles, cups, empty pizza boxes, and hungover passed out people with phallic images doodled on their faces. The sun filters into the ever grand mansion and only illuminates the chaos the frat boys put it through. Everyone is thankfully still asleep as you head downstairs but, as you sneak past the kitchen, you notice two figures rummaging about, boisterous unabashed laughter filling the house that somehow hasn’t woken the others yet.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you with Park Jimin, both fellow Beta brothers, though Jungkook is in the same year as you. They, like most other Beta boys (and especially Taehyung), are well known on campus but Jungkook is perhaps even worse than Taehyung. Now, he’s adorned in only low hanging gray sweatpants that show off the ripples of his toned chest and the happy trail that threatens for your eyes to follow it. He holds a bowl of cereal close to him with the same arm decorated on every inch with tattoos, a snapback pushing his messy hair up and away from his forehead. The best part (and you mean that not at all) ━ or the worst ━ is the fact that he stands on a hoverboard, as if walking is too much for him to handle at nine in the morning. Jimin isn’t far off wearing the same attire, only his look is paired with the fuckboy-essential-starter-pack of socks and Adidas slides, and he’s at least actually using his legs to walk.

“Morning,” Jungkook smirks. “Time for the walk of shame?”

You have to retain a sigh. “I’m surprised you’re up, Jeon. I was sure you were gone past the point of saving last night.”

“A couple of shots do nothing for me,” Jungkook replies, shovelling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I was pretty much sober.”

At this, you sit back on your heels and look him once over skeptically. “You kept trying to hook up with me, called your dick Jungcock, threw up in one of the vases, and then passed out in the bathtub. I wouldn’t have exactly called you sober.”

The smirk remains on Jungkook’s face. If anything, he seems more so amused and it pisses you off. Jimin bursts into a fit of laughter and shakes his head.

“Always a pleasure seeing you, Y/N,” he greets. “Hey, are you coming to the party going down at Lambdas house after exams? It’s pretty exclusive but you and your friends are all invited by courtesy of us.”

“Ugh, I can’t even think about going to another party right now. How do you Beta whores do it?” You grovel. “Besides, why would we come if we know you’re going to be there?”

“‘Cause Tae’s going and you’re probably gonna wanna suck his dick,” Jungkook suggests snidely.

“I was gonna say the free booze,” Jimin offers instead. “Man, you know the Lambdas. They’re all rich pretentious sons of country club owners. They hardly throw parties but, when they do, you know it’s going to be wild. I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.”

“Well,” You say, “thanks for the invitation but we’ll see. Maybe if we have a pre-game where I can get drunk enough to handle your faces and the Lambda boys together.”

“I’ve always said you’re more fun when you’re drunk,” Jungkook hums pensively. Your eyes narrow into a glare and you’re fortunate Jimin is there to block your path from tackling Jungkook.

“Okay, whatever,” You grumble. “I’m out of here. I think if I stay here any longer, I’ll lose all my brain cells.”

Jimin chuckles but hardly seems bothered by your comment. He waves you off as he slips out of the kitchen to retreat into another room, leaving you alone with Jungkook.

“Can I get you anything before you go?” he asks. There’s a cheeky tone laced in his words that makes you blatantly aware he’s trying to suggest something more, like his dick.

“Absolutely not,” You wave him off. “See you around, Jungidiot.”

He grins and shoves another spoonful into his mouth. “Hey, maybe next Saturday you can think about blowing me instead of Tae, yeah?”

He’s met with you jamming your middle finger in his face and it only seems to entertain him further. As you march out of their home, slamming the door behind you, you have one discernable thought amongst your hangover and that is that you’ll definitely need to have that pre-game before you have the audacity to even see Jungkook, or any of the Beta boys for that matter, at the Lambdas.

That Saturday, you find yourself at the Lambdas house party.

So maybe you had sort of been lying when you said you weren’t so sure of going to it, but the thought was tempting enough and you aren’t one to pass up on a good party, especially when it’s after weeks of headaches and stressing over studying and exams.

Mid-terms come and go and when you finally finish writing your last paper, all you want to do is let loose and party and get dicked down by Taehyung. The Lambdas, despite their pretentious behaviour, looks to be very promising ━ but only after you down a few shots beforehand and have a beer while you’re getting ready. You’re not exactly as drunk or as tipsy as you would have prefered but it still gives you a nice enough buzz that makes you warm and lets the adrenaline pump in your veins and excites you even more for the party. The house you rent is off campus but it’s close to Beta’s and Taehyung offers to give you guys a lift to the Lambdas who are a fifteen minute walk away (but you know Taehyung will do anything to not walk anywhere his penny board can’t take him ━ and it’s not even Taehyung who is driving but his friend, Jin).

You can hear the party at Lambdas before you’re even there. The thump of bass coming from the house isn’t hard to miss, especially not with the way it seems to rattle the ground the closer you get. The house is crammed full to capacity and people have already begun to spill onto the lawn by the time you have arrived. A potent waft of alcohol and weed fill your senses and it is all you could really make out in the rambunctious party. You can hardly hear yourself think, let alone what others are saying to you. Yet, you still found a way to have fun almost instantly, drifting away from the guys to party with your friends.

Most of the night is a blur and a haze of confusion but you can remember drinking and drinking some more until you’re sufficiently smashed. You can’t quite recall where you had lost your friends, though you suspect it was after the intense game of beer pong you were suckered into in which you were certain there were no winners or losers as it was just an excuse to drink even more. It’s nearing 1 a.m. when you finally bump into a familiar face, pulling you back from the unruly party and the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins.

You’ve just slipped outside for some fresh air, perched on the front porch, when you notice Jimin is passed out on the lawn below. The other stragglers gathered outside barely take note of him but maybe that’s because he had chosen to faceplant in the shadows under the porch, tucked safely away from the rest of the party. Just before you can even think to walk over to him and make sure he’s still alive, the front door of the house swings wide open and a frenzied Taehyung bursts outside, shortly followed by an equally dumbfounded Jungkook.

“Where the fuck is he?” Taehyung hisses.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook sighs, disgruntled, “but leave it to him to run off and disappear.”

“Looking for someone?”

The two boys startle at your voice. They whirl around to find you taking a sip of the drink in your hand, as if only just noticing your presence. You hadn’t seen them since you parted ways a handful of hours ago in the party, though you’re fairly certain they’re just as smashed as you.

“Ah, babe!” Taehyung beams wolfishly. “What a pleasure seeing you out here. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen where Jimin went, would you?”

You nod in the direction of the sleeping boy down below. “He’s there. He’s passed out cold, though. What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook says. He grimaces as he hastily follows Taehyung down onto the lawn to stand near Jimin, and you in tow. “Jimin just likes to get out of hand. What should we do, Tae? We can’t just leave him here and Luna’s going to be pissed if she sees him like this.”

Taehyung stares down at Jimin miserably, thinking momentarily. “Well, Luna’s looking for him so we might as well drop him off at her dorm. He can deal with her when he’s sober.”

There’s a brief moment where you spot Jungkook seriously considering this though, as if leaving Jimin on the lawn of a frat house is a safer option than returning him to his girlfriend. Ultimately, he caves and you watch as Taehyung nudges Jimin awake (and by nudge, you mean he slaps the boy across the face) before pulling a very disoriented Jimin to his feet and slinging one of his arms over Taehyung’s neck.

“Fuck, he’s heavy,” Taehyung huffs. “Give me a hand, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods, stepping forward to take Jimin’s other arm and hook it around his own neck. The two boys seem to be struggling carrying most of Jimin’s body weight, though they’re carrying mostly dead weight as Jimin continues to drift in and out of consciousness.

Before they can leave you offer to help though you don’t know what you can really do so you suspect your inebriated mind just wanted to go with them for the hell of it. Luna’s place isn’t far. It’s a ten minute walk from Lambda’s, but in that ten minutes, none of you talk about anything of real importance except for chuckle and laugh about things that happened at the party.

Eventually you make it to Luna’s, who answers the door angrily after you knock on it as if you’ve disrupted her slumber and frowns when she sees Jimin’s current state. At least she has the decency to thank the three of you. When she shuts the door behind her, the three of you turn to look at one another, almost clueless.

“So, what now?” Taehyung asks. “Head back to the party?”

The thought of making the ten minute walk back to the party in your drunken mind seems like an eternity. That, mixed with the way your feet scream in agony from the heels you’re wearing, you begin to pout and shake your head.

“I can’t walk anymore,” You whine, words drunkenly slurring together. “I’d be fine just sitting here.”

Jungkook’s nose scrunches as he looks at you once over. “How drunk are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, how about we just go back to our place?” Taehyung asks. His arm slides around your waist then, tugging you close to his side. If one thing is for certain, the boy tends to get more handsy the more drunk he is, and you never seem to mind. “I’ve got a fresh bowl we can hit and we can drink there and just chill?”

You and Jungkook consider Taehyung’s offer fleetingly and, to you, it seems much more appealing.

“Sign me up,” You say. “The Lambdas were a bit too over the top for my liking. There’s only so much I can handle.”

Jungkook shrugs and nods in agreement. “Then I guess I’m going with you guys.”

The five minute walk to Beta is short and soon you’re inside the eerily empty house and climbing the steps to Taehyung’s room but not before the three of you raid their cabinets for any type of liquor. Eventually, you’re all lounging in Taehyung’s room, some type of music playing in the background as the three of you pass around a bottle of whisky and the bong Taehyung had promised he had, giggling at each other.

By 2 a.m., you are smashed and faded but blissfully so.

Taehyung and Jungkook are not too far off. It’s Taehyung who comes up with the idea to play strip poker, though with a twist. His version of the game includes: taking a shot anytime one of you loses a round along with either stripping an article of clothing or being allowed to pass it and get dared to do something else, though each person only has three passes.

Jungkook loses the first round, shedding only his jacket. Taehyung and you lose the second round; you decide to strip out of your own cardigan while Taehyung flicks off his hat. Jungkook and Taehyung lose the third round and both kick off their shoes. The game progresses slowly, with the three of you coming up with “clever” loopholes out of the rules, like stripping one sock one round and then another sock the next and all of you are too drunk to really protest. Eventually, the game winds up with Taehyung and Jungkook both in their pants and you still wearing both your shirt and jeans. Both the boys have used one of their passes and are still losing which, you will admit, boosts your confidence ever so slightly especially when you have such a nice view in front of you.

Both boys are toned, with certified gym rat Jungkook’s abs a bit more chiseled, and you know that sober you would cringe at how hard you seem to be drooling over them. Jungkook must notice because he shoots you a wink that has you squirming in your seat.

“Like what you see?” he asks.

“N-No,” You say shortly. “Shut up and go. It’s your turn.”

You end up losing that round, unfortunately, but you have no qualms with stripping out of your jeans and kicking them to the side. The next round, you lose again, except you decide to use one of your passes which has both boys groaning in defeat.

“Remember,” You coo, “play nice boys.”

The two exchange a look and you wait patiently, taking your shot of whisky in the meantime as Taehyung chides you on encouragingly with a cheeky, “Pour up, baby girl.”

You down the shot in one gulp, wincing as it burns down your throat, then chase it quickly with the drink you had stolen from their kitchen. A drowsy smirk tugs at Taehyung’s lips as he takes another rip from the bong, breathing out a cloud of smoke as he hums insouciantly, “I’ve got your dare.”

There’s a split moment where he makes eye contact with you and pushes his hair out of his eyes.

“Come here and kiss me.”

Had you been sober, you might have rolled your eyes at his simple yet assertive dare but, instead, you can’t help but snicker as you lean across to him from your seat on the floor and pull him down for a not so graceful kiss. His whisky coated tongue instantly collides with yours in an open mouthed frenzy that’s full of teeth clashing and wet sounds but it’s hot, too hot, even as Taehyung pulls you closer to him with his hand grasping at your chin. You instinctively react, teeth nipping at his lower lip as you suck hard, momentarily forgetting about Jungkook sitting in the room.

A moan emits from you as your fingers thread through his hair. Jungkook is left to watch but his eyes stay locked on your figure and the way you cave so easily to Taehyung, the way your mouth moves against his. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away from your position on your hands and knees, or the way you arch your back in an attempt to get closer to Taehyung, and he certainly can’t seem to look away from the tempting curve of your ass jutting in his direction. All Jungkook suddenly wants is for you to be kissing him the same way you’re kissing Taehyung.

You’re only interrupted when he finds the nerve to clear his throat after a few moments. “Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just sit here. Do you guys want me to leave?”

He’s being sarcastic, of course, and when you and Taehyung part to look at the boy, he’s scowling. The two of you chuckle lightly but don’t respond, though you remember the game you’re still playing. Taehyung kisses you one last time before you settle back onto the floor, a sheepish giggle bubbling in your chest. Taehyung loses the next round and he decides to strip down into his underwear though he hasn’t lost yet (the goal is nudity and neither of your drunk selves have enough dignity left to give up before then).

The round after that, you lose again. You decide, once more, to use another one of your passes and the two boys pause, thinking of a dare for you as you take a shot (which, you have realized, only get harder to take as time passes).

“I have one,” Taehyung says at long last.

“Bro,” Jungkook groans, “if you just wanna fuck, let me know. I’ll leave. I don’t think I can sit here and watch you dare her to suck your face again.”

Taehyung laughs and shakes his head. “Easy there. I was just gonna suggest that you━” he points at you before nodding toward Jungkook, “give him a lap dance.”

“A what?” Jungkook’s jaw drops open, his eyes widening. “M-Me?”

You glance up at Taehyung, quirking an eyebrow. “Him?”

Taehyung erupts into another fit of laughter but he’s the only one who finds the situation hilarious because you and Jungkook continue to sit there, dumbfounded. When Taehyung calms himself down, he wipes his eyes and shakes his head.

“Are you seriously telling me you haven’t been noticing?” he asks.

“Noticing what?”

“The way Jungkook keeps eye-fucking you,” Taehyung says simply.

Jungkook gaps. “The fuck? I haven’t.”

“Jungkook, you’re not exactly sly,” Taehyung says. “He’s been doing it the whole night, babe. It’s not the first time he’s done it, too. I just figured we could do him a little favour.”

Your turn to look up at Jungkook and purse your lips. He’s seated in Taehyung’s desk chair and has a frown painted on his face. It’s not like it comes as a surprise to you because he’s constantly trying to flirt with you even when you’re sober but his sudden flustered appearance puzzles you slightly. You’ll admit the idea is ludicrous, but Jungkook is undeniably hot, and grinding on his dick sounds more than wonderful to you in your current state. Either way, you stand to your feet.

“I’ll do it,” You say. “Why not?”

“Wh-What?” Jungkook yelps. “You will?”

“Yeah,” You flash him a pearly smirk. “What? Is confident Jungkookie finally shy?”

At the mention of the taunting nickname, he straightens up in his seat and scowls. “No. I’m just surprised you gave in so easily. You must really like me, huh?”

“Keep dreaming, Jeon,” You retort.

The music is still playing in the background as you slink towards Jungkook’s seated figure. Meanwhile, Taehyung is watching with an amused look on his face and sits back, clearly enjoying the view as he tells you that you have three minutes. As you approach Jungkook, he leans back in his seat and watches you with dark eyes. Jungkook’s eyes sweep over your figure, from the way you muse your hands through your messy hair, your tight tank top with one strap falling down your shoulder, your lacy and scantily clad underwear, and your smooth legs. He gulps at the sight and shifts in his seat.

As soon as you’re standing in front of him, you whirl around so that your back is to him and jutt your butt out just enough to catch his attention as you sway your hips to the music. Your hands ghost up your sides just faintly enough so that chills run down your spine and you lock eyes with Taehyung for a split second to see him grinning. You sit back on Jungkook’s lap and his breath hitches in his throat suddenly. He hates to admit how easily you’re driving him crazy and as soon as you are but he takes the time to enjoy the dance anyway, eyes staying trained on your ass as you grind against him in agonizingly slow circles and right against his dick nestled against his thigh. He can’t help it when a moan emits from him.

“Fucking hell,” he grunts, raking his hands through his hair. You snicker at his reaction, craning your neck to look behind at him.

“Enjoying yourself, Kookie?”

“N-No,” he rasps. This is a lie, of course. “Turn around.”

His command only humours you but you don’t disobey. You get up for a second to spin around and face him before climbing back onto his lap, swinging one leg over his. Before you drop your hips completely on him, you’re rocking them back and forth against the thin air, your hands snaking around his neck. His hands suddenly find purchase on your waist and he yanks you down onto him with a sudden neediness that surprises you, though you don’t complain. You continue to grind against his lap and you can’t help your greedy self when your hands reach out to run up and down his toned chest. He shivers at your slightest touch, his jaw clenched, but he keeps his gaze focused on your eyes, as if challenging you for more. Behind you, Taehyung is taking another hit from the bong and laughs lightly at Jungkook’s reactions.

“Let him touch you,” Taehyung says.

You expect Jungkook to listen to Taehyung and reach out to grab onto you but he hesitates, his hands remaining at your hips. So, instead, you take his hands in yours and begin pulling them up, sliding them along your midriff and up to your chest. You don’t even flinch as you let him cup your boobs over your clothes and you watch him slyly as he gulps.

“Is this the first time you’ve actually touched a girl, Jungkook?” You quip. “You’re gawking at my boobs like it is. Not gonna wet yourself, hm?”

“Fuck off,” he growls, though there’s no malice in his voice.

Instead, he focuses his attention on your breasts and the weight of them in his palm. They’re soft and supple and he squeezes them firmly, jiggles the flesh as he fondles at you blatantly. He hates to admit it but he feels as if he’s going to combust at any second, repressing the sudden urge to tear off your shirt and burrow his head in your chest, your boobs in his mouth. He doesn’t know whether the soft moan that slips from your parted pink lips is intentional to mess with him or because you had been getting carried away yourself. Either way, Jungkook’s certain it’s the hottest thing he’s heard in a while, the hottest thing he’s seen in a while, and he hates how his sudden erection forms, how embarrassing it must be. When you feel his hardened length start to poke at your thigh, you look down at him past your lashes and smirk.

“Are you hard already, Kookie?” You giggle.

Taehyung roars with laughter abruptly and the outburst only makes Jungkook redden.

“I━I━” he stammers helplessly.

You shake your head at him and then purposely press your hips a little more firmly against his, gripping at his shoulders now. You’re challenging him now too, and he doesn’t know what you have in mind but you’re wickedly set on making him cum in his pants before Taehyung stops you.

“Time’s up,” he says.

Jungkook almost groans out loud in frustration when you pull away and step off of his lap. He’s embarrassingly hard now but his drunk self doesn’t try very hard to hide it. Taehyung’s stare is settled on Jungkook as you walk back to your seat but, before you can even sit down, Taehyung is beckoning you over.

“Come here, babe,” he hums. You look at him curiously but move in his direction. “What do you say we help Jungkook with his problem, huh?”

“Help? How?” You question.

“Come sit,” Taehyung gestures to his thigh.

Jungkook watches with silent seething jealousy as you take a seat on Taehyung’s thigh and then he’s kissing you, pressing his lips against your neck. You react almost instantly, your head craning to allow him more access and your eyes clamp shut, your mouth hanging open in delight.

“Tae━” You mewl, tugging at his hair, as if to prompt him wordlessly about Jungkook’s presence. But when does it become too much? Every action seems to keep building and building, that you know where the night surely must be heading; that you crave it.

Taehyung’s tongue swirls at your neck, his lips sucking on the sensitive skin, before he peeks one eye open to look at Jungkook.

“Look at him,” Taehyung hums against you. “Look at how jealous he is right now. Look at how bad he wants to be me right now.”

You take a moment to register his words, your head spinning. You struggle to find Jungkook as Taehyung continues to ravish your neck. Jungkook’s stare is hard, his jaw clenched; his hands are balled into tight fists that let you see the bulging veins in his arms. Is he jealous? Angry?

Taehyung suddenly bites down onto your neck and you gasp in surprise, leaning against his chest. His nimble fingers find the hem of your shirt which he lifts and discards on the floor with ease. Next to come off is your bra. You don’t realize your torso is bare until a slight breeze hits your breasts and perks your nipples and Taehyung reaches up to cup the soft tissue in his large hands and Jungkook can’t look away because, fuck, touching you is all he really wants to do.

“Do you see him staring now?” Taehyung asks. “Do you see how desperate he is for you? Look at how bad he wants to touch you right now, baby girl. Will you let him?”

You’re still staring at Jungkook as Taehyung speaks and note how fast Jungkook’s demeanour has changed. He looks helpless, his erection more prominent in his straining jeans which he shamelessly palms at to feel some sort of relief.

“Better yet,” Taehyung hums, averting your attention back to him. He’s sliding one of his hands down your front and in between your legs, pushing your thighs apart. His digits come in contact with your clothed pussy and the sudden touch, light and feathery, makes you jump and gasp. You hadn’t been aware of how wet you had been until he touched you just then and the coil in your stomach only tightens with each passing second. “Will you let him play with you?”

It takes you a second to respond, though that isn’t because you’re struggling to decide. The thought entices you far more than you ever believed it could. Taehyung is suddenly rubbing his fingers against your clothed clit in so very slow circles that it suddenly has you tripping over your own thoughts. You’re biting hard onto your lower lip as you force yourself to nod hastily.

“Do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“Fuck, yes,” You whine. “Mmm, Tae━”

Taehyung shifts you in his lap so that your back is pressed against his chest, leaning all your weight against him. It’s hard to focus as one of his hands fondles one of your breasts while his other presses figure eights onto your clit. You’re on full display for Jungkook now, though his eyes fall to the wet spot that forms on your pretty little underwear as your arousal leaks from you.

“How badly do you want him to?” Taehyung asks.

“So badly,” You whimper.

This catches Jungkook’s attention and he leans forward in his seat. Taehyung smirks against you and then he’s moving, withdrawing his hand from between your thighs to hook around the waistband of your underwear. He gives it a quick tug and you fumble to lift your hips so he can pull the useless fabric down your legs. Once it pools at your feet, you kick it off to the side and then Taehyung’s hand returns between your thighs.

“Spread your legs,” he says.

You do as you’re told, pushing your thighs apart but then instinctively squeezing them shut when Taehyung continues to press his fingers against your clit. The sudden stimulation is too much for you and your face begins to heat up so Taehyung uses the chance to push your legs apart for you. He hitches one of your thighs over his own as if to anchor you in place and it works.

“Can you stay like that for me, baby?” Taehyung drawls. “Look at Jungkook for me.”

You nod, your throat dry as you lift your gaze to lock eyes once more with Jungkook. You find the boy gawking at your sex and you moan suddenly. His head snaps up to stare at you with a sudden blazing determination and lust in his eyes before they fall once more to your pussy, admiring the way it pulsates each time Taehyung swipes at your clit or tweaks at your nipples. But the best part? The best part is just how wet you are, your clear juices coating Taehyung’s fingers, spilling onto yours and Taehyung’s thighs with the passing seconds, and suddenly Jungkook is hungry for you. But what he doesn’t know is how you suddenly imagine Jungkook in Taehyung’s place, sat beneath you poised daintily on his lap, his fingers pressing against you.

You twist on top of Taehyung, your own hand reaching up to grasp at your other breast, pinching at the nipple tightly. A delighted moan fumbles from your lips. “Jungkook━ Fuck━”

“It’s nice, yeah?” Taehyung asks aloud to the other boy. “She’s pretty, hm?”

Jungkook nods eagerly and then groans. “She’s dripping. Fuck, it’s so hot.”

Your face burns at his words but you don’t have enough wits to think of a snarky retort like usual.

Taehyung chuckles. “Why don’t you come here then and touch her? Taste her? Is that okay, baby?”

When you realize Taehyung is asking you, you nod eagerly. “Shit, please━ Jungkook, wanna feel you━”

At your request, Jungkook practically tumbles out of his seat. As soon as he’s standing on his feet, the realization seems to hit him and he takes his time, walking to you slowly. His gaze sweeps over your exposed body and he licks his lips, his eyes suddenly darkening. Taehyung doesn’t stop touching you or marking your neck his even as Jungkook walks closer and it hits you in that moment what exactly you’re doing and who you’re with ━ and you fucking love it. Jungkook kneels down in front of you and Taehyung nods in encouragement.

“She’s impatient and feisty,” Taehyung informs. “But that makes her fun to tease.”

“I know how to pleasure a girl,” Jungkook quips.

“But you don’t know how to pleasure Y/N,” Taehyung replies. “You’re too cocky, Jungkookie, and she doesn’t like that. You need to take your time with her and you don’t do that often with girls, do you?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond but, judging by his face, you assume Taehyung is right.

“What do you want me to do?” Jungkook asks. He’s staring at your face now and only your face. His intense stare makes you squirm on Taehyung’s lap, and makes you suck your lower lip between your teeth.

“Touch me,” You rasp. “Touch me, please, Jungkook.”

God, how he loves hearing you moan his name. But the anticipation is killing you. You’ve felt Taehyung’s fingers plenty of time; you’ve never felt Jungkook’s, and the abrupt need seems to grow more intense with each passing second.

“You heard her, Jungkookie,” Taehyung says. He draws his hand away from your heat and kisses your neck softly. “Go on. Touch her. Be gentle, go slow.”

Jungkook is shaking with excitement ━ or maybe it’s just the weed and alcohol in his bloodstream ━ but he eyes you carefully, gnawing down on his lower lip. He reaches out at a tedious pace and hesitates, his fingers hovering over your core. Taehyung is watching with eager eyes whilst planting open mouthed kisses along your shoulders, neck, and jawline. Jungkook finally presses his fingers against your pussy and your reaction is immediate. You toss your head back against Taehyung’s shoulder and jutt your hips forward.

“Nnngh, fuck, Kook━” You whimper. “M-More━ Wanna feel more━”

Jungkook takes that as a good sign and follows after Taehyung, rubbing circles into your clit slowly. He feels just how wet you are, his fingers coating with your cum as they move with ease past your folds, and it’s enough to let the wave of glee wash over him again.

“See? Look how much she loves it already,” Taehyung says. “Keep going.”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. As he rubs his fingers over your clit, his other hand comes up in a greedy fashion. He can’t stop himself from slipping a finger past your folds and it takes all you can not to moan out loud but you give up on the prospect of remaining quiet when it feels so good to have both boys on you.

“Let him know how you feel, baby,” Taehyung purs. “How he’s making you feel.”

You struggle to find your voice momentarily, too caught up with the lust and desire but then a cry of delight falls from your lips. “Fuck, ah, Jungkook! That feels s-so good━”

Jungkook’s head snaps up to look at you in pure disbelief.

“Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he huffs. “I never thought you’d moan my name and now you’re so wet and tight and for me━”

“And me,” Taehyung admonishes offhandedly.

Jungkook doesn’t reply but that’s mostly because he’s suddenly fixated on curling his finger inside of you and watching your every reaction. Your hips jut forward and you cry out, panting at the blissful feeling but it isn’t enough. You need more, and you need more now. As if Taehyung can read your mind, he chimes in again, disrupting yours and Jungkook’s reverie.

“Why don’t you have a taste of her?” he asks. “You won’t regret it.”

Jungkook’s eyes light up and he watches as you nod eagerly, desperate pleas coming from your mouth. Jungkook lowers himself down between your thighs and you wait with bated breath before he’s licking a clean stripe against your folds with his flattened tongue. The sudden slippery warmth has your body writhing in pleasure.

“Jungkook━” You cry out. “Oh my god━”

Jungkook grins. Then he’s licking at you again, tasting your sweet succulence, and groans into your hot core.

“Shit,” Jungkook huffs. “You taste amazing.”

He nibbles down slightly on your clit without warning and tugs. You instantly jerk into his mouth, a strangled moan ripping from your throat that sounds something like a scold of his name and a desperate plea for more. “Jungkook!”

Taehyung snickers against your neck and you can feel Jungkook’s lips curl into a taunting smirk between your thighs. Jungkook’s finger still curls deep within you as his tongue returns to lapping at your clit and you can feel his nose brushing against you the deeper he burrows into you. Meanwhile, Taehyung is continuing to ravish your neck, his hands tweaking at your nipples. The onslaught of senses is so much for you that you nearly scream when Jungkook’s tongue dips into your heat so suddenly to accompany his finger. He laps at you hungrily and you gasp, your breath stuttering as your hands come down to tug hard in his raven locks, your hips bucking forward and into his mouth. It feels fantastic, too incredible for you to put into words, as you feel the wetness of his tongue lap at your walls and suddenly you’re aware of just how susceptible you are to both of the boys near you.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Jungkook,” You moan.

“Now who’s the needy one?” Jungkook coos against your cunt. “Gonna cum on my tongue?”

“P-Please━ Want it so badly, Kook━”

He smacks his lips against you, taking as much as he can of you into his mouth and sucking hard until all you hear are the lewd wet sounds of his tongue and finger working miracles against you. You’re clutching his hair so tight, pushing him closer into your heat but he doesn’t relent. One of his hands comes up to hold onto your waist, to push you firmly back onto Taehyung’s lap and closer into Jungkook’s mouth. You can feel Taehyung’s budding erection poking against your thigh and it’s enough to make you flustered once more.

In an attempt to help Taehyung, you find yourself grinding not only into Jungkook’s mouth but onto Taehyung’s lap, earning a growl into your neck. Taehyung’s free hand comes up to your chin which he grabs roughly. He forces you to look at him and then he’s smashing his lips onto yours in a heated fashion for an entirely ungraceful kiss. It’s needy and hot, completely open mouthed as your tongues mingle in the air and as Taehyung sucks on your lower lip. Yet you tear your gaze from Taehyung to look down at Jungkook as he buries himself further into your pussy, his nose nuzzling against your clit. You’re dripping by now and you can see your own juices smear onto his lips, dribble down to his chin, and it’s the hottest thing you could ever imagine seeing. He doesn’t seem to care as it spills down his neck and suddenly the mere sight has you squirming again. You part from Taehyung’s mouth with a wet pop that rings in your ears and moan.

“Fuck━ nghn, I━I━ think I’m close,” You whimper.

“Fuuck, yes,” Jungkook growls against you.

“Let it go, baby,” Taehyung hums, nibbling at your ear. “Cum for him, for us.”

Jungkook’s pace quickens, pumping his finger faster in you and sucking at your clit until you have no more strength to hold off. Your hands fumble in his hair, trying desperately to pull him closer, and you hate how badly you want your sweet release already. It doesn’t help when Taehyung twists your body ever so slightly so that he can lean down to your breasts and catch one of your nipples between his teeth. His tongue swishes back and forth against the perked bud and you whimper again, the coil in your stomach tightening and loosening.

You’re so close now and Jungkook can hear it, can feel it, can taste it. You don’t have much longer after that before your orgasm is hitting you hard.

“I’m gonna━” You reach out to grasp at Jungkook’s hair, tugging at the roots. “Fuck, Jungkook━”

You cry out suddenly, the coil in your stomach springing apart. Jungkook moans into your pussy as you cum, pulsating around his tongue and finger and dripping into his mouth. You’re reduced to nothing but a whimpering, writhing mess against Taehyung as you buck back and forth into Jungkook’s mouth to ride out your high. Taehyung pulls apart from you to rub circles into your hips and the seemingly gentle move somehow soothes the intense wave of pleasure into something much sweeter. Fire burns at your core and flicks outward until your whole body is warm and numb and then you collapse against Taehyung’s chest, panting hard. Jungkook drinks up every last bit of you and you begin to cringe at the oversensitivity before you gain some of your wits again. You push his head away hastily and this time he relents.

“Did all your little happy wet dreams finally come true, Jeon?” You snicker languidly.

The boy sits back on his knees and looks up at you, locking gazes with yours. You can finally see his face, his tousled black hair, his swollen red lips, and chin, all of which are covered in your perfect sheen. He licks at his lips and wipes at his chin and neck where his tongue can’t reach and he does all of this without breaking eye contact with you. A small smirk forms on his face and suddenly you’re filled with an intense need for payback.

“Yeah, you act confident now but you seemed to enjoy it when you were riding my face,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, about to reply before he adds, “So, you’re welcome.”

“You’re impossible,” You huff, pushing yourself off of Taehyung’s lap.

“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Taehyung mewls behind you. “We still need you.”

“Oh, I know,” You quip. You reach down to grab onto Jungkook’s chin, forcing him to look up at you. “But it’s my turn, don’t you think, Tae?”

Taehyung chuckles and nods in agreement. Jungkook, however, hardly looks bothered, though he seems a little taken aback by your sudden assertiveness when you begin pulling him up to his feet before pushing him back onto the bed. Taehyung scoots over so that the three of you can fit comfortably on his bed and then you’re moving, crawling over to Jungkook on your hands and knees.

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” Jungkook asks. “Because this is sexier than it is scary.”

You’re hovering over his crotch when he speaks, your greedy hands reaching forward to brush against his hard dick straining in his jeans. He nearly jolts in his seat at the sudden touch and you and Taehyung giggle again.

“Mmm, baby, teach him a lesson,” Taehyung hums. “Suck him off nice and slow but don’t let him cum.”

“Not unless he begs for it,” You say wickedly.

Taehyung stifles a chuckle. “I told you she’s feisty, Jungkookie.”

The younger boy is eyeing you carefully as you busy yourself by undoing the belt buckle on his jeans. He acts unimpressed, unfazed, as you unbutton his jeans and began sliding them off his legs, but you can see the needy and impatient glint in his eyes. Your eyes fall immediately to the ever present straining bulge in his boxers and you gulp in response, licking your lips. You can’t help yourself when you reach out to brush your fingers faintly along his length. He jolts in his seat and grits his teeth, shooting you a hard glare.

“Are you seriously going to tease me?” Jungkook grumbles. “We can skip all of that, y’know━”

“It’s payback, Jeon,” You hum, running your fingers down his dick and then back up again. “Where’s the fun in it if I skip all of the teasing?”

“You know,” Taehyung murmurs from beside you. He’s reclining back, watching you with intense eyes and is completely shameless about his prominent erection contained by his boxers. “I’m surprised the idiot hasn’t referred to his dick yet as Jungcock.”

You giggle, an all too innocent and sweet sound for the way you’re palming at Jungkook’s dick. Jungkook, who is apparently having a rather difficult time keeping up with his surroundings while your fingers continue to work against him, scoffs. His eyebrows knit together as he throws a beady glare at the older boy.

“You’re ruining the mood,” he grunts.

Taehyung clicks his tongue against his teeth, a smirk tugging at his luscious lips. “Of course. I digress.”

You turn your attention back to Jungkook who’s staring down at your hand with parted lips and a crease in his brows. Without warning, you grasp him through his boxers and he groans suddenly, bucking forward. The desperation of his situation only seems to increase in severity when you peel back the elastic band of his boxers and slide them off his legs, finally freeing his dick which springs out from it’s confines. He’s much bigger than you expected, his tip angry and red, leaking with pearly beads that dribble down his length and the bulging veins that line it.

“You’re staring again,” Jungkook hums when he notices you pause, your eyes wide. “Sure you don’t like what you see?”

You shake yourself from your daze and frown. “Shut up.”

The boy starts to chuckle at your flustered expression but yelps when you clasp your fingers around the base of his cock. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and excites you even more. You start pumping him slowly, guiding your hands up and down his length in careful and measured motions, wiping your thumb across his tip each time you reach it. Jungkook shudders in your touch, his teeth coming down to gnaw hard on his lower lip. His eyes are glued to your hands working against him, his face scrunching up in pure euphoria.

“Mmm, fuck,” he grunts, his head lolling back. “Stop teasing me and go faster.”

You don’t listen. If anything, you slow your pace and it has him so frustrated that he lets an involuntary whimper escape him. He bucks into your clenched hand, practically begging for more but remains quiet, safe for his heavy panting.

“You heard her, Kook,” Taehyung says. “Beg for her.”

“There’s no way I’m begging,” Jungkook hisses through gritted teeth. “Never. I never have and never will.”

“Bullshit,” You scoff. You fondle at his balls with your other hand and he moans again. Your hand comes to a complete halt all of a sudden, interrupting Jungkook as he is about to speak. Before he can protest, you lean down and lick at his tip, swirling your tongue around him once to taste his saltiness. His hips rut forward into you but you pull back almost immediately and find Jungkook gaping. You meet his desperate eyes for a steady gaze. “Beg. Just once, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook’s stare wavers as you run your fingers along his tip, squeezing slightly. He tries to compose himself, to remain calm, but when you are relentless, he caves very easily. He only gives in when you kiss the base of his cock. And those eyes ━ fuck, the way your eyes turn so wide and already look so fucked out. How could he resist you?

“Fuck, fuck, okay,” he gasps. “I need more, baby, please. Ah, please━ You feel so fucking good.”

His needy pleas satisfy you and your lips curl into a devious grin. You lower yourself on him suddenly, licking a clean stripe up his length and he moans loudly. You enclose your mouth around his tip and suck, earning a small growl from him as he pushes his hips forward for more. In the next second, you sink your mouth down his length, taking as much of him as you can.

“Fuck!” he moans abruptly. “Ahh, shit, that feels amazing, baby.”

You hollow out your cheeks as you pull your head up and then back down, starting at an even pace that has him moaning and writhing beneath you. He feels much bigger in your mouth but you don’t mind even when he bucks himself into you unexpectedly and hits the back of your throat. The action makes you gag around him and, in return, he curses at the way it feels.

“K-Keep doing that,” he mumbles. “Please, fuck, just like that.”

His fingers thread in your hair and he pulls you down greedily on him but you don’t refuse.

“Can you do it, baby girl?” Taehyung questions. His hand finds his way on your back where he rubs gentle circles into your skin. “Can you take all of him in your mouth?”

You nod carefully around Jungkook’s hardened length.

“Good girl,” Taehyung smirks. “Go slow.”

You follow his orders, sinking gradually onto Jungkook until you feel the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You gag once more but, instead of pulling back, you shut your eyes and take a few deep breaths in through your nose. In, out, in, out, and then you swallow. Jungkook’s reaction is sudden and intense. He bucks into your mouth unwillingly and moans even louder, his fingers clutching at your roots.

“That’s it, baby,” Taehyung hums and his sudden presence is comforting.

“A-Again,” Jungkook stammers. “Again, please━ holy shit, you feel amazing.”

You swallow again and then a third and each time you can feel yourself sinking lower onto him. Tears prickle at your eyes as your nose is suddenly pressed against his lower abdomen but his reactions are well worth it and so you continue.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung says, planting a chaste kiss against your shoulder. “You deserve some more attention, hm?”

His fingers slowly rub circles down your back, his lips following your arch and has you shivering beneath him, before stopping at the dip just above your ass. He’s kneeling behind you now, his fingers massaging into your thighs. You sigh against Jungkook when you feel Taehyung’s fingers continue their trek to your ass, rubbing you carefully. You, in response, push your hips back, waiting for more.

“You’re still so wet, baby,” Taehyung says. “I bet you’d come with one touch of my finger.”

With Jungkook buried hilt deep inside your mouth, you’re hardly prepared for when Taehyung slips his fingers underneath to your folds. It’s embarrassing to admit how right he is. You react instantly, moaning around Jungkook and jutting your hips back for more. The simple vibration has Jungkook groaning, his hips bucking forward. You hadn’t even been aware of just how wet you are before Taehyung pointed it out but then you can feel it, pulsing out of you and dripping down the top of your inner thighs.

“But you need more, don’t you?” Taehyung asks. “How about my cock? Will you let me fuck you, baby girl?”

You nod eagerly, the simple question exciting you even more. Taehyung chuckles and leans down to press a kiss to the arch of your back.

“But you’ll have to be good and keep pleasuring Jungkook too, okay?” Taehyung says.

You hum in response and swallow around Jungkook as if to tell both boys that you have no plans on stopping. Jungkook twitches inside you and scrunches his eyes shut.

“Fuck, Taehyung,” he grumbles. “Hurry up. Any time you touch her, she swallows. It feels so good.”

Taehyung snickers but he takes his time. He runs his fingers up and down your folds until you’re moaning needily against Jungkook. You look over your shoulder to see Taehyung’s fingers wrapped around his own hardened and pulsating erection, pumping himself a few times as he stares at you carefully. He positions himself behind you and takes the chance to run his tip and length along your folds. You whimper suddenly, hoping your desperate noises will spur him on.

“You want more, baby?” Taehyung asks.

You hum again, your voice muffled and hoarse.

“Okay,” he sighs. “Only because you’ve been so good.”

You have no time to brace yourself from the sudden impact of feelings. He doesn’t do much except for push himself into you, past your folds. It’s only just the tip and yet your heart jolts in your chest, the coil in your stomach tightens. It feels so good to finally have something of larger girth in you that you gap, simultaneously sinking down further onto Jungkook. The two boys grunt above you, both of them panting hard.

“You feel so good, baby,” Taehyung mumbles. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

He leans down to press a kiss against your shoulder, his other hand coming up to rest on the dip of your lower back to guide you. He slowly, so very slowly, pushes himself into you, inch by inch, so you can feel the way he stretches you open, feel the way he buries into you. Your leaking arousal only proves to be of an advantage, letting him easily push into you without any trouble. Your fingers grip the bed sheets beneath you in an ironclad grip and you squeak when he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. You nearly gag around Jungkook again, who’s still panting and writhing above you, but the way Taehyung’s tongue marks patterns into your shoulder comforts you. You whine against Jungkook, pushing your hips back for more and the simplicity of your action has Taehyung’s breath hitching in his throat.

“So warm,” he grunts and then sighs against your back. “You always feel so amazing.”

He still hasn’t moved and you’re beginning to grow impatient, distraught over the feeling of him rock hard inside you but unmoving. You debate pulling apart from Jungkook to yell at Taehyung but you assume he can understand your haste judging by the way your body writhes beneath him, your fingers clench into fists. He pulls out in one languid movement, his breath stuttering, until only his tip is left before he pushes himself back in, equally as slow. He sets at a steady, easy pace that, at the very least, lets you grasp onto some sensible thoughts and pushes you to keep pleasing Jungkook. Jungkook can’t take it anymore; he starts rutting his hips up into your mouth with gritted teeth. It’s a hot, erotic mess of mingled moans and groans but you never want it to stop ━ in fact, you want more.

“You like that, baby?” Taehyung grunts.

You nod hurriedly, humming in response.

“Ah, fuck━” Taehyung groans. “Want it harder?”

You nod once more, this time eagerly. When Taehyung pulls back one more time, he slams himself back into you without any warning and you jerk forward, sinking down onto Jungkook. The younger boy moans, his head lolling back as his fingers twisting in your hair. You don’t expect Taehyung to do the same thing again, pull out slowly and then push himself back in with more force, but he does, and he repeats the action again and again until he abandons it for a whole new pace. Soon, he’s thrusting into you hard and fast but always making sure his hips reconnect with yours before pulling out so you can feel him practically in your throat.

“Like being fucked like this?” Taehyung asks. “You like being used like a little slut?”

His thrusts are relentless suddenly, jerking your body and back and forth until he’s fucking you in a way that has you sucking off Jungkook just right so that you hardly have to put in any effort. Although his hard thrusts feel amazing, each time you’re pushed forward, you sink further down onto Jungkook unwillingly and that, paired with the way Jungkook frantically fucks himself into your mouth, you nearly gag each time as he hits the back of your throat, drool pooling at your lips and dribbling down your chin. Tears prick at your eyes from the feeling and it’s too pleasing to quit, to pull away from Jungkook just yet. Jungkook’s staring down at you when he notices your scrunched up face. You’re surprised when his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing reassuringly into your cheekbone.

“You’re doing so━ ah, fuck━ so well, baby,” he rasps.

You can taste the saltiness of precum on the tip of your tongue and you wonder how close he is. You have no qualms in finishing him off then and there but soon the pleasure you’re receiving from Taehyung becomes too much. Soon, he’s hitting you at an angle that shakes something in you. You pull apart from Jungkook with a loud pop, saliva and cum coating his length and your lips, and a gasp wretches from your throat.

“Fuck!” You cry hoarsely. “Ah, T-Taehyung!”

You’re too weak to push yourself up and end up burying your head in Jungkook’s lower abdomen, feeling the heat consume you. You’re near numb, senseless, as you let Taehyung ravish your body, fuck you hard into the mattress and Jungkook. It’s a frantic build up, an intense wave of emotions that you seem to pass through, and you can hardly bring yourself to react. All you can hear is the sound of moaning and skin against skin and the heat seems to make its way up to your head, making you warm and fuzzy. Jungkook gently pulls at your face, lifting you up and bringing you to him so that he can smash his lips onto yours and all you can taste is bitter liquor, you, and him, but that doesn’t stop him from sucking on your lower lip even when you pull apart to moan and gasp.

“T-Tae,” You sob. “Fuck, Tae, I━I’m c━close━”

“Cum for me, baby girl,” he murmurs. “Let me hear you.”

You shake your head frantically at the sensitive sting between your legs still raw from your orgasm from Jungkook, shutting your eyes. Taehyung’s hands find their way onto your hips and he pulls you down his length until you’re balls deep and pauses. He lifts your hips and you can feel him twitch inside you that it even makes your own thighs tremble and shake. You’re sure you’ll collapse on him if he doesn’t hold onto you and he must realize this too because he grips your hips tight to continue thrusting into you. Soon you’re tumbling towards your high. Taehyung’s pumps are frantic, growing sloppy with each passing second, as he pushes you to yours and his high. The coil snaps in your stomach again and you’re in a moment of freefall where you’re stunned by the wave of pleasure. Then, Taehyung is bringing you back down to reality with his hard thrusts, the way he moans, and the lewd wet sounds of him pumping himself into you.

“Ah, T-Tae━” You whimper. “So good, fuck━”

His name falls from your lips in a repeated mantra. You crumble beneath him, collapsing entirely against Jungkook, who’s brushing your hair away from your face. You’re shaking with each touch, your walls pulsing around Taehyung and clenching hard. He moans and curses behind you and you know he must be close to his high because he, too, is fumbling for it. His thrusts are even more hasty and soon he’s reaching his climax. His moans increase in volume and his thrusts become sloppier until he finally pulls his cock from your walls and nearly collapses against your back.

With his hand clenched tightly around his shaft, he jerks himself off until he’s releasing onto your back in white hot spurts. He’s panting hard, sweat coating his forehead, but he takes the time to press chaste kisses along your back and shoulders as the two of you attempt to calm your shrill hearts. It’s silent in the room for a moment despite your panting breaths. Taehyung takes a moment to grab his discarded shirt and wipe at the mess he’s made before he collapses next to you at long last with a huff of air. You moan wearily, rolling off of Jungkook to lay on your back between the two.

“God, you’re amazing,” Taehyung sighs.

You giggle up at the boy and lean towards him to kiss. His fingers rake in your hair and a few silent seconds pass before you’re nearly back to an even breathing pace. That’s when you notice Jungkook, his hand gripped tightly around his still painfully hard dick.

“Jungkook,” You pur his name, catching his attention. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he quips.

“It’s your turn,” Taehyung points out. Jungkook glances at Taehyung and then down at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“W-Well, I just thought━” Jungkook stammers. “I just thought you’ve had enough. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“I call bullshit again,” You scoff.

“Baby girl,” Taehyung hums, “do you want Jungkookie to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly but Jungkook doesn’t seem too convinced, or maybe he’s hesitant. Taehyung’s eyeing him closely, curiously, before he gaps. He bursts out into a fit of chuckles, earning both yours and Jungkook’s attention.

“Shit, of course,” Taehyung grins. “He’s probably gonna let go the minute he’s in you. You’re close, hm?”

“Only because she’s already been down on me,” Jungkook grumbles.

“You know that’s not it,” Taehyung replies. “You’ve been wanting this forever.”

Jungkook’s eyes suddenly darken as he glares at the older boy. “Taehyung.”

“Wait, what?” You ask, turning to gawk at both.

“Jungkook has a little crush on you,” Taehyung smirks. “This is all he’s ever wanted. I bet he’ll bust a nut the second he fucks you and he’s embarrassed.”

You gasp as you turn to face Jungkook who looks entirely disgruntled but you’re more shocked about the fact that Jungkook likes you than anything else. Jungkook, notoriously arrogant fuckboy, who’s seemingly made it his mission to give you a headache every waking moment by trying to flirt with you. And maybe you’ve always sort of known it; maybe you’ve always sort of felt the same.

“That’s not true!” Jungkook protests. “I━I━ Well, Tae hardly finishes when he’s with another girl. He’s jacked off to the thought of you before, too━”

Taehyung starts. “Fuck off━”

You’re stuck between the bickering boys, staring up at both of them with a dumbfounded expression. Before either boy can strangle the other, you’re speaking up and interrupting them.

“I don’t mind,” You say. “I’m just… surprised.”

Both boys are silent now, aggravated probably, and you giggle. You reach up to rake your fingers in Taehyung’s hair and then look up at Jungkook, using your other hand to grab onto his chin once more and force him to face you.

“Come here, you idiot,” You drawl. “I want you to fuck me. Wanna feel your dick.”

Jungkook seems taken aback but then his eyes are sweeping down your body and he writhes in his seat. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him down onto you to kiss. It’s passionate and rough but hot altogether as your lips smack against one anothers. Jungkook’s desperate situation seems to hit him again, especially when you snake one of your hands down to his length and wrap your fingers around him to jerk him off. He pulls apart from you, gulping.

“Fuck, okay, okay,” he gasps. “I need to be in you right now, please.”

You and Taehyung smirk as Jungkook shifts around on the bed to kneel between your legs. He pauses, glancing up at you once more and noting the way you bite your lower lip seductively, before finally pushing himself in. He goes slow, but not as gradual as Taehyung. You can still feel him stretching you open and he groans. He seems to slide the rest of the way in with a lewd squelch sound because of just how wet you are and then he’s buried balls deep, fitting so snug within you.

“Holy shit,” he whines. “You weren’t kidding, Tae. She feels amazing.”

Taehyung hums in agreement. “What does she feel like? Let her know, Kookie.”

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut momentarily to focus. “Wet,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Warm, tight ━ fuck, so tight.”

He marvels at the feeling, wonders how you can still clench so tightly around him despite being stretched wide by Taehyung. He bows his head to rest in the crook of your neck and moans. His words are enough to spur on your own reaction and you whimper against him.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook━”

The sensitivity you feel in your core met with his hard cock makes you cringe but simultaneously pleases you and you’re bucking your hips for more. He groans at the feeling, his hands flying down to grip your hips. He’s big, stretching you wide, but you feel anything but pain except for the sharp burning sensation as the intensity of your past orgasms start to hit you. He rolls his hips back and then thrusts into you so hard that you yelp and jerk back on the bed.

“Go easy on her, Jungkook,” Taehyung admonishes. “She’s not a doll.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook sighs, nipping at your throat. “You just feel so good, Y/N.”

“I’m okay,” You reassure. You feel his length twitch within you and your head lolls back. “Fuck, I feel more than okay.”

“Can we try something?” Taehyung asks.

He receives two weak nods in response. Jungkook pauses, shifts the two of you until he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips, his dick never once slipping from your core. The older boy grabs onto you and yanks you onto his hips.

“What do you say we give Y/N the pleasure she deserves?” he asks. He pushes his length past your folds and is rewarded by the sound of your moans as your jaw unhinges. “Think you can handle both of us, baby?”

“Fuck, yes,” You gasp.

Jungkook seems just as enticed by this. He’s careful as he pushes his cock into you and your reaction is explosive. With Taehyung already stretching you wide, you wonder how Jungkook will fit but it’s snug and perfect. You can feel him stretching you further, inch by glorious inch, and he hasn’t even begun moving when your walls clench around the two of them. Taehyung hisses in your ear and Jungkook pauses at once, sputtering for air, giving you time to adjust. When Jungkook pushes himself further into your cunt, rubbing against Taehyung’s cock and your own walls, you can’t help the delicious moan that falls from your lips.

“Oh my god,” You whimper. “Fuck, fuck, that feels so fucking good━”

It’s such a sticky, hot mess, and all you can hear is the sound of guttural moans and grunts. You jut your hips forward, a silent plea for something more. Jungkook’s hand grasps at your ass and then he’s pulling out. He growls suddenly, thrusting his hips forward and the sensation suddenly overwhelms you. As he picks up a pace that leaves you breathless, Taehyung slowly thrusts into you and the pleasure becomes too much. Your hands reach out to grab at anything, fingers digging eagerly into Jungkook’s chest, Taehyung’s sides.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook grunts. His face is scrunched in pleasure and concentration, his mouth hanging open.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Taehyung growls. “You like being stretched wide like this, huh? Such a good girl too. Fuck━”

He’s sweating, but so are you, and all you can hear is the sound of yours and the boys’ moans, the vulgar wet slap with each thrust Jungkook makes. It’s only amplified with each small leisurely thrust Taehyung makes into your throbbing pussy, his dick rubbing against Jungkook’s with each thrust. Your walls tighten around Jungkook and Taehyung as the seconds pass and you know you’re already close to your third orgasm of the night but you try to hold off despite the room spinning. All you can do is lay there for Jungkook to ravish and control, for Taehyung to enjoy, too caught up in the moment. Your breasts bounce wildly with each thrust Jungkook makes and his gaze seems fixated on your chest before flickering down to watch himself disappear inside you each time. Taehyung is raking his fingers through your hair, soothing you through your next climax and it’s close.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses, panting hard. “I’m not gonna last.”

You push your hips forward as if to probe him on and he growls.

“No, shit, let me enjoy this, baby,” he whines. “Ah, so tight━”

He’s grumbling to himself, cursing under his breath and you smirk tiredly. Jungkook leans his head down to kiss at your chest, catching one of your nipples in his warm mouth. His tongue swishes back and forth over the perked bud and your chest arches into his face. Your fingers are clutching tight at his hair even as he obeys and adds more force with each thrust, slowly picking up his pace. His mouth widens and he sinks lower on your breast, humming against you in pleasure. Taehyung’s own pace quickens. It’s not as relentless as Jungkook’s but he makes sure to help aid you to your high, ramming his hips into yours until both their cocks slip into a seamless pattern. All you can focus on is the crude wetness, the way their dicks threaten to slip from your hold at how sloppy and wrecked your cunt becomes.

“Ah, yes,” You hiss. “Fuck, yes, yes━ So good, oh my god━ Right there━”

Your voice is cut off by a loud moan. You feel the familiar wave hit you once more and this time you hardly have any strength to fight it off or welcome it.

“I can’t━” You wail suddenly. “Fuck, I can’t━ I’m gonna cum━”

You’re fumbling for words to warn him that you’re close before you’re cuming around them. Their names wrench from your throat in no discernible pattern, accompanied by vulgar curses. Your body writhes between the two boys, your chest arching into his mouth, your legs tightening around Jungkook’s waist.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” Jungkook coos. “Come on, wanna feel you cream all over us━”

Stars form behind your eyelids and explode into galaxies as they swirl down your spine and to the tip of your toes, making them and your fingers curl in delight. Your vision grows blurry and tears stream down your face at the build up of pressure finally being released for the third time and you can’t help it when your mantra turns into delighted sobs and whimpers. You’re clenched so tight that Jungkook feels as if he hardly has any space to move and the confinement of his length has him gasping. He pulls apart from your breast to watch your scrunched up face with hooded eyes. He moans again, and desperately leans down to suck at your jawline.

You’re too spent to keep up with him or Taehyung as he helps you further to your high but you know Jungkook is close when his thrusts become messy, quick spurts. You gasp each time he thrusts up into you until he’s finally cuming.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Gonna cum━ Gonna let us fill you up, baby?”

“Please, please, wanna feel it,” You mewl.

He slams his hips into yours and stills for a moment as he releases into you in one hot wave and emits a beautiful moan of your name. You’re panting hard even as he rides out both your highs with a few more incredibly sloppy pumps before he finally collapses against your chest. The two of you are struggling to catch your breaths, your heart beating in your ears.

The room is silent, blissful, and it takes you a few moments of basking in it before you’ve regained your breath. Your fingers rake in Jungkook’s soft and sweaty hair and you hum in content. His mouth presses a few open mouthed and hot kisses along your neck and jawline before connecting with your own mouth. This time, the kiss is chaste and you smile against his lips before he’s pulling out of you. You moan at the missing feeling of his warmth and the way his own cum leaks from your core, down Taehyung’s cock, and your own thighs.

But Taehyung isn’t done. He thrusts up into you to ride out his own high, pushing Jungkook’s release back into you. His pace is steady, deep, and all you can both do is moan and gasp for air.

“Fuck, Tae,” You rasp tiredly. “Cum for me, baby.”

The boy gasps for air, nearly fumbling behind you to reach his high. “Gonna make this pussy mine. Fuuck━”

When Taehyung finally reaches his own high, it’s in another sticky stream of hot cum, each fluid mingling with the other in a pitiful mess. He pulls his slackened length from you and you whimper at sudden the loss, core and legs aching. As you slide onto the bed between the two tired and breathless boys, Jungkook wipes at your glistening core with a shirt and you sigh in content.

“Why haven’t we done that before?” You gasp, earning a chuckle from both. Jungkook lets out a boisterous laugh and you flick his arm. “If you say anything dumb, we’re never having a round two.”

“Round two?” he asks, wriggling his brows. “You want this to happen again?”

You nod, though you can already start to feel yourself succumb to sleep as it creeps upon you. “What do you think, Tae?”

“I think,” The older boy hums, “that’s your best idea yet.”

Jungkook seems surprised, excited even, and you smile sleepily. Taehyung throws his arm over your waist and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping you in his arms as he slips off to sleep.

Before you fall asleep that night, you snake your arm up Jungkook’s chest and let your hand rest against his beating heart which you can still feel beating shrilly even long after your messy night together.

You awake to the familiar sound of your alarm.

It’s loud, annoying, and jolts you awake only to toss you into a haze of muddled confusion and an incredibly terrible hangover. Your head throbs and your body aches. Sunlight splashes in from the closed blinds and illuminates your face, making you squint.

“Turn that off, Jesus Christ, Y/N,” Taehyung snaps, his voice muffled and aggravated.

Your mind is too groggy to realize he’s sleeping next to you, too groggy to suddenly remember what happened the night before. Until, of course, you feel your limbs tangled with not only Taehyung’s but another’s. When you crane your neck to look, you see Jeon Jungkook splayed out beside you sleeping peacefully and you gasp.

The events of the night before suddenly flood your mind and everything is hazy up until your wild time with the two boys. Your muddled sober mind alerts your heart and suddenly it’s beating hard and fast in your chest as you register the situation. You’re used to waking up with a naked Taehyung by your side but never were you used to waking up next to a naked Taehyung and Jungkook.

Jungkook stirs in his sleep then and you curse silently, diving for your phone on the floor before realizing your drastic mistake. Your core is still tender and your legs feel so delicate, nearly caving in beneath you as you wobble precariously. Somehow, you manage to grab your phone and tap the snooze button hastily. Taehyung’s still half asleep on his side but Jungkook lays on his back and you’re surprised to see him looking up at you with a quirked eyebrow and a tiny smirk.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” You hiss. “Holy shit, that wasn’t a dream?”

You gnaw on your lower lip and reach down blindly to grab the nearest article of clothing on the floor (one of Taehyung’s shirts) to toss over your bare body. To soothe your aching muscles, you resort to kneeling on the edge of the bed.

“It wasn’t,” Taehyung murmurs.

“Nice to know you think our dicks are dream worthy though,” Jungkook snorts. “So when’s our round two?”

Your promise from the night before dawns on you all too suddenly and, though you feign your usual annoyance for both boys, the potential prospect of another night with the two of them thrills you to no end.

“I━ I━” You stammer.

“Come back here, baby,” Taehyung muses. “It’s too early to be up right now. You can sleep a bit longer before you pretend you hate the both of us.”

Your eyes flicker down to your phone to check the time: 6 a.m. You can barely walk, let alone function this early in the morning, even without the added stress of your hangover, and sleep seems far too appealing to ignore. Maybe you can stay for a few more hours…

“Fine,” You grumble. You crawl back between them and wiggle around until you’re laying back on the bed. “But you’re making me that cup of coffee when I wake up, Taehyung.”

“Anything else, princess?” Taehyung grins.

“Maybe run me a bath too,” You wince as you settle back against the bed. “Everything hurts.”

“Will do,” Jungkook says. “Gotta do the most to make sure we get that second round. Now, come here━”

The boys snicker and, soon, the three of you have slipped back into a peaceful slumber.

You know that when you wake you’ll profusely deny that the night before and the morning after had ever happened; that you’ll never again find yourself in either Jungkook’s or Taehyung’s bed, much less with the both of them at the same time ━ but you find that you never really listen much to rules anyway.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years ago

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It’s Them

Masterlist

Summary: whilst in class, an unknown number messages you giving you all hope and an answer

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Warnings: mentions of death, crying

Word Count: 957

divider by @firefly-graphics

Life had become a spiralling pattern, especially since school had once more started. Summer was over, but you’d never forget all that you all had endured throughout it. You had gained endless memories, good and bad, but overall it had been like a sinking ship - literally.

During the storm as they had tried to escape, Sarah and John B had failed to resurface from the wreckage of the Phantom, leaving all hope that you had in ever seeing them to dissipate. And thus, the scheme that Ward had covered up remained secret from the authorities, they didn’t care about what a bunch of kids said, They would always take the word of a kook.

It was practically discrimination, but that was usual for the island. But Sarah and John B weren’t the only death that sounded through the night; it was clear that your and JJ’s relationship was on its last feet. It was simply a matter of time until that ended. Nothing was particularly wrong there, it was due to the pressure of recent losses and lack of engagement. At the start, you were each other’s primary source of comfort, and now distance was the only way that you related.

There was nothing positive in recent times. Everything was wilting before your very own eyes, and you wanted nothing to get off the coast and leave for somewhere silent and peaceful, though it’d be a while until you could ever afford to do such a thing. More so since you were stuck in class, overcome by boredom as you scrolled through your phone, your thumb mindlessly dragging across the screen, doing nothing in particular, touching the device to do nothing more than to pass the time.

Your body jolted from surprise as your phone pinged, alerting you of a message. Unknown caller. And it was not only directed to you, it was a created group chat, including Pope, Kie and your boyfriend. They seemed to have noticed the notification as well as they grasped their phones out, seeing the message that had been left by an assumed stranger. The teacher turned around, having heard the multiple chimes that had rang out through the classroom, expectedly staring at his students.

Opening the message, adrenaline coursed through your veins as you saw two faces that you never thought you’d see again. Sarah and John B. You blinked a few times to make sure that you weren’t imagining it, and compared phones with Kie. As you all analysed the image, you couldn’t wait any longer, grasping your bag onto your shoulder, you prepared to leave as you darted out from your seat, and fled the room.

You could feel tears pricking your eyes as your chest heaved, shocked by the turn of events. Kie followed, exempting her leave for a family emergency, whilst JJ swiftly chased after you, also enduring complacency to the situation. This was his best friend, possibly alive. Now that would be one hell of a miracle. “Holy shit.” You breathed, placing your hand on your chest once you rested your head on one of the outside walls, feeling your heart thumping below your palm.

''Shoupe said they didn't make it,'' Kiara spoke, remembering those words rather vividly, and more so than she would like to. ''He said that the Phantom had turned over and that Sarah and John B had drowned.” At the words, you winced, tapping your fingers along the corner of your phone as you did the one thing that your mind was screaming for you to do. And that was reply, slowly you began to type out a response, a shadow soon looming over your side, stroking your elbow, it was JJ.

“What do we do?” Pope questioned, almost unable to comprehend that his friends could possibly still be alive and breathing. It almost felt like some sick joke, a hoax to cause you further pain. But one thing was for certain - you had to know whether it was or wasn’t, and there was only a singular way in which you could do that.

“I’m on it.” You told them, JJ’s scanning your screen as your fingers danced over the keypad and shakily so. “I can’t.” You shook your head, dismissing your tears, almost embarrassed that you weren’t strong enough to message someone. Kiara sent you a comforting smile, taking the proposition of doing so upon herself, sending WTF is this you? It felt like hours as you tapped your foot, although the response sprung through almost instantaneously.

Is JJ there? It enquired, and as you turned your head, you saw your boyfriend almost breaking down at the sight of what was on his phone. They had been best friends for so long it was literally torture for him to endure time like this away from him, and you could feel a new light beam down on you all, as though you were getting a second chance.

I’m here Bree. He was and you were never going to let space come between the pair of you again. Did you jump my short board? The alleged John B asked, and from that smile that the blond wore, it was all the confirmation that you needed to know that it truly was the Routledge. “It’s him,” he spoke, and from the surfacing relief that adorned your emotions, tears began to sweep down your face.

JJ rang his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you hid your face in his neck, lightly sobbing in the home smelling crevice of his skin. He was your home, and now the rest of your family was going to return, and you would do your best to help them with that obstacle of doing so.

#jj maybank one shot #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #obx x you #obx x y/n #obx x reader #obx imagines #obx imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #imagines #imagine #xreader #obx jj x reader #jj maybank x you #jj oneshot #jj x reader

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legends-of-apex · 4 years ago

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‘Finally’ - Kung Lao x Reader (smut)

Rating: 18+ for smut

Word count: 5,000 words (I know it’s a lot, lmfao)

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long!! Just really wanted to make it good :D there’s so little written for him that I just had to! In short, Kung Lao and the reader have been pining for one another for months and finally decide to do something about it. This fic contains both fluff and smut. Reader is AFAB. Hope you all enjoy, please feel free to let me know what you think and thank you for reading :D

You were trapped between him and the table. His arms on either side of you, braced against the table’s edge so he could lean down to your level where you sat. “It’s very rude you know. To tease your friends.” His eyes held a challenge, a sprinkle of mischief that never seemed to leave when he was with you.

“We were never just friends though were we?”

You weren’t sure why a sudden burst of boldness had overcome you. Perhaps it had something to do with the absolutely unbearable frustration that had been training with him mere moments ago. You were both so distracted by one another and intent on teasing with small jesters and jabs that you couldn’t take it for another minute, delighted when the sudden appearance of the moon relieved the necessity to train. You couldn’t be sure exactly what had sparked it that day but one thing you were sure of was that you wanted him. And you needed him to know that.

It was selfish. Of course it was, but something deep within your gut was begging you to just do something about the way you felt.

“Sounds like you’ve been having some improper thoughts.” He was joking but his voice held little semblance of his usual jest, the tone soft almost timid as he took one of your hands in his and brought your knuckles to his lips. He looked as though he was almost apologetic for having such an effect on you.

Romantic affection and other such distractions weren’t permitted by Raiden. But right now, being so close to Kung Lao, you couldn’t have cared less about what Raiden did or did not permit. His scent was all around you, coupled with the dirt from the fight pit where a kick had sent him tumbling. You swallowed hard, attempting to calm the strange feeling in your stomach in response to his affection.

“Most of my thoughts of you are improper.” That was it then, you’d finally done something that feeling. It was pointless pretending like you didn’t care for one another. You were done with this, done with the longing glances and the pining.

Moving your hand away from his lips so he could speak, he instead pressed your palm to the red dragon enshrined on his chest plate. You were so close together now that he seemed to have a hard time concentrating on your eyes, his gaze instead directed towards your lips. “Perhaps some meditation might remedy the issue.” His tone held absolutely no sense that he meant or likely even knew what he was saying. He was far too focused on drinking the image of you this close to him into his mind.

“It just…” you allowed yourself to lean in closer to him so your lips almost grazed his as you held his cheek in your free hand,”...doesn’t quite scratch the itch.”

“Oi, if you two are going to fuck in here at least let me get in on the action!” Kano’s grating drawl cut straight through whatever moment you had.

Lao moved to stand up straight and likely confront him, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed, but you took hold of his forearm, silently asking him to stay. The both of you turned your heads to glare at the man and for once he shifted uncomfortably on his feet, “Well, worth a try! I’ll leave you to it. Don’t fuck on the table, we gotta eat there tomorrow!” With that, he left.

As soon as Kano rounded the corner, Lao turned back to face you and before he could even register it, you pressed your lips to his. The exchange was soft, sudden. But you felt him smile into the kiss and cup your cheek with his hand. His lips were so gentle. You couldn’t help but sigh when he deepened the kiss just a little, clearly testing where the boundary lay. You had both been holding back so much for so long, and yet you held back still for now.

When you pulled back for a little air, you kept your cheek pressed against his, wanting him close. “Finally,” you whispered and he smiled once more. The tension between you felt like it had finally subsided, even just a little. You pulled away a little more to get a better look at him, admire him in his hazy state. “Finally,” he agreed.

That one singular word was enough to reassure you that he’d had the same issues you had for a while now. You had been pining for him from the moment you met him when you first entered the temple. His cheeky smile and bold words had you hooked. Not to mention literally everything else about him. And you had noticed, the way he looked at you sometimes like he was gazing at the stars. The quick glances at dinner or in training that sometimes weren’t all that quick or subtle. The softest of touches when your fingers grazed his when he would pass you a plate or fill your glass with water without you having to ask him to pass the jug. The way Lui Kang would shake his head at him whenever Lao was a little too excited to help you with something or even just to spend time with you. All of this and more should have told you that he’d felt the same, but you were far too engrossed in the potential scandal of it all to put two and two together. Lord Raiden would surely have your heads for falling prey to such distractions and for breaking Kung Lao’s vows.

“So what now?” You asked him, hoping, just silently praying that he’d take the hint of how much you needed him right now. Hell, you’d have dropped to your knees before him there and then if you could be sure Kano wouldn’t interrupt. He pulled back from you, extending to his full height once more, grabbing his hat and offering you his hand to take.

“What would you like to do?” He asked, his face held a look of almost pleading but his pride and the public setting wouldn’t let him do so. It was then as he held his hand out to you in invitation that you noticed just how tightly the thin leather cords were tied around his upper arms and how wonderfully under stress the cord seemed right now. One side of his mouth quirked up into a smile like he could hear exactly what your mind was screaming, he saw you admiring his thick arms. He had done many times. The slight hitch in your throat at his question too told him everything he needed to know about what you wanted right now but he wanted to hear you say it.

“I think….” You took his hand, trailing your finger over the centre of his large palm before entwining your fingers with his, “That we should take this somewhere a little more private. I mean unless you want Kano to join..”

He looked like he wanted to devour you. His chest heaved a little, tongue darting out to wet his lips as you rose from your place at the table. He couldn’t speak properly, couldn't believe you truly wanted this with him. So many days spent pining for one another yet he still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that you wanted him, not Liu Kang or anyone else, him. You tugged on his hand lightly, yanking him out of his thoughts and towards your bedroom.

As you hastily unlocked your room with your keys, he couldn’t help but place only the faintest of kisses along your neck from where he stood behind you. His hands found your waist and circled round to meet at your middle, your back pulled flush against his chest. You were so beyond touch starved that even the faintest of touches had you in pieces. You couldn’t help the soft moans that slipped from your lips when he bit down on your skin ever so gently. And he couldn’t help what hearing that sweet sound did to him.

When you flung the door open and tugged him inside, all bets were off about being reserved. His hands were all over you, trying to make up for the lost time that he could have been touching you. Kicking the door shut behind you, you pulled him against you once more. Desperate to have him close. The metallic rattle of his hat hitting the floor rang throughout the room. His lips were far less gentle on yours now and you loved every second of it. A slight nip of his bottom lip between your teeth had him groaning. Such a gorgeous sound. He had you pinned against the door in his efforts to be near you. You were thankful as it gave you just enough leverage to hike your leg over his hip. He took that as his queue to lift your other leg up too, bracing you against the door with his strong arms supporting you.

At the new angel, he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing kiss after kiss, light bite and after light bite to your soft flesh. You dragged your fingers through his dark hair, careful not to undo the red ribbon he had so carefully tied. A gasp escaped you when he kissed his way down to your chest, mouthing his way over any exposed skin he could find.

You wanted to tell him to just take you then and there. To shove your underwear aside and have you against your bedroom door. But his stature was far more caring than that right now. He was wound tightly, the hardness against your thigh told you that much. So much pent up tension between the two of you and yet he treated you as though you were glass. You’d soon fix that.

“Bed. Please.”

He carefully carried you towards your bed and set you down, mouth never leaving your skin as he did. When he released you to remove his robes you couldn’t help but stare at him. Of course, you’d seen him bare-chested in training many a time before, but it was a view of which you would never tire. His chest was strong and broad, the muscles were defined and well-worked but benefitted from a soft layer above them so his skin was soft to the touch. You couldn’t help it, dragging your fingers over his chest and stomach. You felt each shiver that wracked through him at your touch and revelled in the way his chest heaved from your fingertips alone.

His hand came to shadow your own, near dwarfing it beneath his as he held your palm over his heart as he had done mere minutes before, “Are you sure you want this?” His voice was low, heavy with want, but gentle. You could see the desperation in his eyes. You shared it too.

“More than anything.” You replied, and he smiled, taking your hand and carefully pressing your knuckles to his warm lips for a long moment as though he was almost praying to you. Butterflies spread throughout your stomach, you couldn’t believe the effect he had upon you.

“In that case, lay back,” you quirked a brow at that,”I want to taste you.” He clarified.

You hadn’t been expecting that. You did as you were told for once, shuffling back onto your bed but propping yourself up on your elbows so you could see what he was doing. He ever so gently undid your shoes and slipped those, followed by your socks, off your feet. Next came your trousers once you lifted your hips enough for him to take them off. He let out a huff at the sight of you, staring almost in disbelief at you sprawled out before him. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? It is truly distracting.”

“Is that why I keep whooping your ass in training?”

“Maybe.” He chuckled before turning his attention back to your dripping underwear, “So wet for me already and I haven’t even touched you.” His eyes held a hunger as he parted your legs at the knees a little more so he could get a better look at you. Taking your knee, he hooked it over his shoulder as he sank to the floor, pressing slow kisses along the inside of one thigh and then the next. The touch sent shivers through you, right to your already dripping core. You whined when he got so close to where you wanted him, only to turn his attention to your other thigh again.

“What’s the matter? I thought you liked teasing?” He asked when you whined. You dared not look at him, knowing he’d have his smuggest smile on display.

“Please.” You mumbled, desperation for any touch at all. With a nod of his head towards you in compliance, he rid you of your underwear, tentatively rolling the material down your legs to expose your heat to the nighttime air.

“I’d hold on to something if I were you.” His mouth returned to the tops of your thighs, only this time he let his lips ghost over your core rather than skip over it completely. Your folds were so slick and warm that it almost felt as though his lips melted into you. A long groan escaped you as he began to move his mouth and tongue, laughter vibrating through him at the sound you made. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, you wanted to tug on his hair but settled on grabbing the sheets beneath you. When his tongue flicked your clit, that was out the window and one hand shot to the back of his head in desperation.

He pulled back from your pussy for a moment, “Please pull as hard as you’d like.” He’d obviously caught on. You tangled both hands in his hair then, before he returned to your warmth and he moaned before bringing his lips back to your core. Oh, he liked it when you tugged on his hair, you’d have to remember that.

He sucked your clit between his lips then and let it go so he could lick a strip right up the middle of your folds. “Oh fuck,” you exclaimed, “P-please, do that again!”

“Since you asked so nicely.” He repeated the action, this time taking extra care to move as slowly as possible. Another lick and he was gathering your wetness on his tongue and once again groaning at your taste.

He moved one hand from your thigh and brought his fingers to rest by your lips, “Get them nice and wet for me.” He told you, and you didn’t need to be told twice, sucking his two digits into your mouth and lathering them up with your tongue. “Gods.” He breathed, no doubt imagining that was his cock in the place of his fingers. He withdrew them from your mouth and brought them to your core, circling them slowly in your juices before ever so slightly prodding your entrance with them, slipping the tip of one in and out, followed by the other, in and out, intermittently whilst he worked the rest of your pussy with his tongue.

The very sight of him between your legs would have been enough for you on any other day, but today you were spoiled for choice on what to focus on. He snuck a glance at you from beneath his brow every once and a while, watching your facial expressions in between closing his eyes in pure concentration. You were close now if the coil in your stomach was anything to go by. Honestly, you were surprised that you’d lasted so long given the circumstances.

“I’m close!” You told him.

“I know.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He hooked both his fingers into you at once now, noting how you clenched around him when he did. Pleased with himself when he hit a spot within you that had your head flung back so your chin pointed towards the sky. He chuckled to himself and looked up at your face, not wanting to miss the reaction on your beautiful features.

“What are you- Oh!” The new motion of his fingers, pressing firmly exactly where you needed them to be, was an entirely too overwhelming sensation. Not only did you grab his hair now, you pulled on it, grinding your core against his face in a desperate plea for your release. In your haste to keep him close to you, you’d accidentally pulled the tie from his hair letting the strands fall upon either side of his face in a beautiful frame. He put his mouth into overdrive too, moulding his lips around your nub and giving it as much attention as he could, eyes never leaving your face now. You clenched around his fingers once more before the dam broke and he’d swore he’d never heard a more delightful sound.

His name fell from your lips as if it were the only thing you’d ever known as your orgasm washed over you. He held your hips down with his free hand as he helped you ride it out, never once stopping his movements until you’d finally collapsed back on the bed. You continued to pet his hair as he lay his cheek upon your thigh, brown eyes gazing up at you in a haze.

“They teach you that at the Shaolin academy?” You asked in jest as your breath began to even again. You tilted your chin to look down at him and the adoration in his eyes was enough to send your stomach fluttering once more. He smiled up at you then, his usual half-smile with a slight tilt of his head that you’d grown to love. “Seriously that was great, thank you. Would you allow me to return the favour?”

“If you wish, but please don’t let me finish too soon.”

“Too soon?”

“If you would allow me such a privilege, I would like to feel your body around me as well as your lips.” Gods, you wanted to feel him inside you too.

Once you were ready, still aching with want but satisfied for now, you slipped down off the bed and onto your knees. “Oh you poor thing. Need me to take care of that for you?” You asked when you saw the strain in his trousers. You pulled the waistband of his trousers down with ease, revealing his underwear. You could tell from the outline that he was big and painfully hard but you couldn’t help but tease him with a few soft strokes with the pad of your thumb through the fabric.

“Please-” he gasped when a particularly long stroke had his cock twitching. “Oh sweetheart, it looks like you’ve been hard all day.” You pulled his pants down and allowed his cock to spring free. His cock was thick, thicker than you’d ever imagined. It had ample length too but it was a particularly large vein that ran along its side that really caught your attention.

You pressed a kiss to his leaking tip, another to the vein. Such sweet noises left his mouth already and you’d barely touched him. Dragging your tongue along his underside whilst looking up at him seemed to really do it for him because his cock twitched in your hand. “Oh, gods. Do that again. Please.” You obliged him and earned the most breathy, muddled sound from him.

You gave the tip another kiss before wrapping your lips around just the first half an inch or so.

“Fuck-“ He pulled his cock from your mouth, “As beautiful as you look with your lips around my cock, I’d rather not finish so quickly.” He brought you up from your knees to kiss you again before lifting you slightly so you sat on the edge of your bed once more.

“Do you still want this?” He asked, hand lovingly caressing your cheek, eyes soft and locked with yours. You stood, gliding a hand from his stomach, up along his chest until you reached his strong jaw, eyes never leaving his as you did.

“More than anything. I just want to be close to you.” You confessed.

“We can just lay together if you’d like? We don’t have to do this, I’m more than happy to wait until you're ready.”

“I’m ready,” you told him, “I want you, so long as you want the same?”

“Oh I do. I've wanted this since the day we first met. You have no idea how much I want you.”

“Oh I have some idea.” You pushed on his chest lightly and he fell back onto your bed, taking you with him in his arms, shimmying until he was comfortable. You tugged your shirt over your head and rid yourself of any remaining underwear, flicking your eyes towards him only to see him dumbfounded at the sight of you bare before him. Heat rose to your cheeks for the first time that night. The man had just been eating you out like his life depended on it yet his gaze still made you giddy.

“You are so cute when you’re nervous, you know that?”

“Oh, shut up and fuck me.” You laughed, taking his head in your hands once more and kissing him, revelling in the feeling of his mouth on yours. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“I know.” You rolled your eyes playfully at his cockiness, sitting upon his hips, careful not to let your body sit fully on his stomach or any other sensitive part of him. His hands glided down your sides until they reached your hips, resisting the urge to tickle your sides as he would have in any other situation.

“You ready?” You asked him, sitting up on your knees, hands braced at the base of his thick chest. He nodded, swallowing hard in anticipation.

With one hand you took hold of his achingly hard cock and directed it towards your entrance, taking care to coat the tip in your wetness before aiming it at your aching pussy. A sharp inhale and you were sinking down onto his lap until his cock filled you completely. With each inch, Lao arched further off the mattress before collapsing back once fully inside you, a long moan escaping him as your pussy enveloped his cock within you. The fullness you felt was something else. His velvety cock filling you so pleasantly you thought you could just sit there like that forever if you wouldn’t have gotten needy.

“My gods,” you groaned at the overwhelmingness of it all, “you feel so good.” You told him and he smiled amid his haze, absolutely delighted he was able to make you feel good even from his place beneath you. He let you take it completely at your own pace, supporting your hips when you moved up of him and then slide back down onto his cock. He wouldn't last long, not with months worth of pent up frustration finally coming to a head. He never thought the day he’d be inside you would ever come, didn’t let himself wonder what your walls would feel like around his member. To be fair, usually, just the thought of kissing you was enough to get him off.

You rocked forwards again once you were sure your body had adjusted to his size. Falling forward to essentially lie directly atop him. You didn’t want to ride if you couldn’t touch and be close to him. Another grind of your hips and a moan fell from his lips right into your ear, his hands now gripping your lower back, helping you move on his cock whilst keeping your form flush against his. His hips moved up in tangent with yours.

“Shit!” You cursed when his cock hit a particularly sensitive spot.

With another roll of his hips, he made contact with that spot again, your hands desperately grabbing fistfuls of the sheets at either side of his head to attempt to transfer the tension in your body from such pleasure. “Again!” He obliged you, full concentration on helping you reach your release.

“Lao, please!” You almost begged, “harder please!”

To your surprise, he pulled out of you completely, gripping your hips and lifting you off of him. In one swift movement, you were on your back, Lao leaning over you and tugging your knees around his hip so he had easier access to your pussy.

“You ready for me?”

“If you don’t get back in there and fuck me I think I’m going to die!”

A laugh escaped him but in truth, he felt that desperation too. In fact, he would have come ages ago had he not been in essence edging himself so that he wouldn’t finish long before you.

You sat up so you cling to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him in for another kiss. You couldn’t get enough of his lips, or hips scent, his arms around, or really anything about him. His arms wrapped around your right after he entered you as you kissed, your moans swallowed by one another’s mouths. That wonderful fullness was back again and he waited until you gave him the go-ahead that you were comfortable again before moving. His thrusts were measured, slow but forceful in a way that had you mewling against his shoulder.

He took his time with you, basking in the feeling of being with you in such a way. His lips found your neck once more, then your shoulder, then your chest and over the tops of your breasts. A particularly loud moan on your part had his attention turned back fully to spearing you on his cock.

“There?” He asked, looking to you for your response. You nodded your head into shoulder and he kissed the top of your head tentatively, smiling at your pleasured state. He focused on hitting that spot again, and again, until your nails started to dig into his shoulders. He let one hand drift between your bodies and down to your core, using the knowledge he’d gained from exploring you with his mouth to heighten your bliss.

“Lao!” His name left your mouth, along with obscenities. You weren’t really sure what you were saying at this point apart from his name. His fingers dancing over your clit combined with his thrusts had you feeling so stimulated that you swore that was all you could feel right now. The coil in your stomach had been rigid and pulsing for a few minutes now.

He pressed another kiss to your temple, “I’m almost there!” He told you, voice shaking both with intensity and the constant movement of you both.

“These bed sheets are a pain to clean.” You informed him in a moment of clarity and he laughed, but his voice was strained as you met his thrusts with your hips.

“Where-“ he gasped, “Do you want it?”

“Inside.” You quickly replied, knowing that you had taken any precautions you needed to.

He laughed again, “I swear you’re trying to kill me.”

As he rubbed harder and more sloppily on your clit, you knew he was extremely close. His forehead was tucked into your shoulder now, skin glistening. When you tugged the hair on the back of his neck between your fingers, he was done. A cry escaped him, cock twitching as he filled you with his release.

That feeling, the feeling of his body shuddering against you, his warmth filling you, was what finally made you come for a second time. You fell back against the covers, taking him with you as you worked through your release. He kept going, lightly and sloppily moving in and out of you until he was sure you were spent. He collapsed a top you, chest heaving in tandem with yours as you slowly came down from your high. When he turned his head to look up at you, a smile spread across your face and his in turn.

“We really shouldn’t have waited so long.” You sighed, feeling the stickiness between your legs as he carefully pulled out of you, not moving his cheek from your chest.

“Agreed.” He huffed in another large breath before his breath evened. It was so good to be with you, in any capacity really but this, this was something almost heavenly.

“Sorry, I think these sheets are still going to need to be cleaned.” He leant up off of you and off the bed, careful not to crush you under his weight, his playful little side smile returning as he walked to your en suite to grab a towel.

You looked down between your legs to check, groaning at the mess. “It can wait for tomorrow!” You didn’t feel like doing any kind of cleaning right now. Your body was spent and your muscles had already begun to ache. He returned with a damp towel and ever so gently wiped away any mess from between your legs, his movements so tentative that it was hard to believe he’d been the one to make that mess in the first place.

“Why? You got something else planned for tonight?” He asked, chucking the towel in the general direction of your bathroom before scooping you up in his arms and setting you down against your pillows.

“Yeah I was just about to go train.” You said in a mock serious tone, actively shoving the covers down so you could both crawl beneath them.

“Ha! Sure.” He had already settled beside you, bringing his arms to wrap around your frame. You turned to face him, your hand sliding beneath his upper arm to gently caress his back as you buried your face in his chest. You felt his lips on your forehead again, his arms tightening to bring you as close to him as he could.

Yeah, you weren’t moving for the world.

#kung lao #Kung Lao x reader #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 2021 #mk 2021 #fic #my writing #reader insert #smut #lemon

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illumilu · 4 years ago

Text

there’s only one bed” - illumi zoldyck x reader

a/n: a very stereotypical cliche for fanfics, but, yk what? cringe makes the world go round. so here, have my drabbling of what would happen if you were to spend an unwanted night in the same hotel bed as the adultrio. i feel like i may have made this way too long again, but who cares?? this time it’s with illumi! aka loml ...

summary: after a lengthy car trip, you arrive at the hotel with illumi, but to your horror (wink wink), there’s only one bed. including: you dreaming abt him when he’s literally right in front of you (embarrassing). this is part two of a three-part series, with the adultrio. hisoka is already written and chrollo will be coming soon!

warnings: no particular trigger warnings, lowercase intended, a lot of fluff! and cuddling! only on your part though, since illumi is basically awkwardness personified... no nsfw <3

illumi zoldyck:

- the trip to the hotel had taken 6 hours. 6 hours in which you had fallen asleep multiple times, cramped your legs, somehow made every sleeping position dangerously uncomfortable, cracked your neck and twisted your back, possibly to the point of no return.

- for mr zoldyck, or rather, “illumi”, as he had instructed you to call him, the trip was no problem. his upbringing, which consisted of mainly torture, included staying awake for as long as a fortnight at a time. 6 hours may as well have been a few minutes.

- “the silent son of the zoldycks” was his reputational nickname, or, rather, “lifeless koi fish”, as your friend, hisoka, enjoyed calling him. either way, illumi was not going to let a car ride tire him.

- when you had first met him, he had scared you. a lot. the entire “trained dangerous traumatised assassin” storyline was one that felt like a threat. you were undoubtedly taking a risk by working with him, but it was one you were willing to; it may have been twisted, but murder was your forte, and you were searching for a partner.

- over time, you had grown to be less intimidated by him.

- you were now colleagues with him, working on a new assassination.

- shockingly, planning murder took time, and who better to plan it with than the assassin himself? you had spent the past day on a “business trip”, paid for by illumi’s grandfather, where you sized up the area and familiarised yourself with yorknew.

- all for the big night.

- tonight was the day before the murder of the ten dons.

- illumi and kalluto would carry out the murder, while you made sure everything went smoothly, via a small mic attached to his clothes. the entire operation was based on trust, and would therefore be executed like clockwork.

- you had taken the necessary mental images and kept the targets in mind; all that was left was a night at a pre-booked hotel and then it would be go-time.

- you had assumed that the hotel would be high-class, with doormen, perhaps some marble flooring and pillars - it was the zoldycks who were paying, after all, and you knew they had money to spare.

- “we’re here.” illumi stated blankly, face reflecting in the window. admittedly, he did look a little bit like a koi fish.

- you nudged past him to look out of the window, leaning over to get a good view.

- oh.

- it seemed you had made quite the overestimation. it was a simple, plain building with a few stories. no doormen or extravagance could be sighted.

- you supposed keeping a low profile was important, but the depressing accommodation was somehow making you wearier.

- the two of you didn’t exchange any conversation on the way up to your room, but you were used to that.

- you and illumi had met around 5 months ago, and most of it had been comfortable silence. you hadn’t expected it to be like that - in all honesty, you had expected him to kill you - but illumi seemed... calm around you.

- it was probably because you shared such an odd passion with him; the logistics of murder. you assumed it gave him a chance to loosen his harsh demeanour and enjoy himself. the both of you had worked on multiple murders together, focusing on theory and planning, but this was a huge assassination. nevertheless, you knew he could pull it off; illumi was smart, you had to give him that.

- finally, you arrived at your hotel room, sighing from the lengthy stairway winding up to your unnecessarily high room. you assumed it was for safety purposes, but for god’s sake; why did safety have to be so enervating?

- illumi pushed the door open, and you walked in with him. finally, you could catch some rest.

- except, you couldn’t.

- a singular bed placed in the middle of the room.

- “why.” you thought to yourself tiredly.

- you stood there silently, waiting for him to say something.

- then, you remembered that he was illumi. he obviously wouldn’t see anything wrong with the situation.

- the bastard.

- it didn’t help that he gave you no visible reaction when you stared at him with your face scrunched up expectantly, as if to ask what his plan was.

- “is there a problem, y/n?” illumi asked, his tone flat as usual.

- you took a deep, worn out breath, clearing your throat.

- after a bit, you shook your head. this was strictly professional. illumi wouldn’t do anything, because he was illumi. nothing would happen.this was an important night, where rest and a clear mind were essential. blame it on the fatigue, and nothing else. you were just exhausted. there was nothing else to it. nothing.

- “no. i’m just a little tired.” you dismissed.

- a silence skimmed past.

- “my grandfather... he often tends to be absentminded. occasionally, he forgets to do certain things, or plan them correctly, i suppose. you could say this is a prime example of such.”

- “zeno forgot another goddamn bed, hm?” you laughed nervously.

- illumi stared at you once again, blinking a few times, in a methodical manner, face neutral and robotic. you smiled awkwardly and remembered that he was not one to laugh at jokes. or anything, for that matter.

- you wondered if he laughed at bloodshed. or maybe hisoka.

- “i’m going to... go to set up my stuff now.”

- turning your back to illumi, you winced at the uncomfortable air. even after all your time with him, you never learnt to stop trying to lighten the mood. the mood was literally just always unnatural, in some way. that was another one of illumi’s specialties.

- after some time, in which you had finalized tomorrow's plan and each changed into comfortable clothes, you watched illumi tie his hair up from across the room.

- his hair had always fascinated you.

- you had always wanted to touch it. honestly, even when you had first met him, apart from his magnetic eyes, you had been drawn to his hair. you imagined it felt like silk sheets, caressing over one’s hands as smoothly as honey. you were glad he grew it out; in fact, upon seeing his teenage photos, you had laughed so hard you ended up getting a nosebleed from hitting your face. illumi had been left in confusion for a while.

- you realized how random you sounded. why were you reminiscing so much?

- shaking yourself back to your senses, you admired as he artfully twisted his hair into a loose bun, strands of hair cupping his elegant, pale face.

- what a beautiful koi fish.

- most people couldn’t compute that illumi had true, human feelings. after all, it would be hard to believe a man like him felt anything. but, of course, he did, unhealthily so. he channeled all his trauma and hurt into his villainy, and received happiness from his villainy, anger from his villainy and occasionally fear from his villainy. however, there was one emotion he could never grasp. he hated himself for it, but soon realised he could manipulate his hatred into villainy, too.

- illumi was a man who could manipulate anyone or anything he wished.

- except himself.

- internally, he had always felt at a loss whenever he confronted his emotions. but, after he had met you, something had changed. as he caught you staring at his hair through the hotel mirror, he couldn’t help but feel something small stir inside of his stomach. not evil, not happiness, not hatred, not anger. perhaps, friendship?

- this tinge of new emotion inside of him initially made him feel uneasy, but that worry morphed into giddiness, a childish high buzzing somewhere in his core.

- eventually, he stood up to face you and suggested going to sleep. you checked the time on the wall clock. 8 in the evening. well, illumi had always been particular. you agreed that rest was essential for tomorrow.

- you hesitantly took the left side, and, upon seeing your choice, illumi followed to lie on the right.

- after a few minutes, you looked back at him, noticing illumi fell asleep abnormally quickly. you furrowed your brow quizzically at the rock-like manner he was in. frankly, he looked like a plank when he slept. you almost laughed, but held it in for his sake.

- he had a very specific sleep schedule, as did the other zoldycks. he could go to sleep immediately at his own command, and stayed perfectly still as he did so. he woke up at 5 in the morning every single day, without fail, almost like he had some sort of alarm clock planted in his body.

- looking at him lying there like a block, you smiled softly. illumi was quite the conundrum to you. you often speculated whether he ever got what he deserved; love, affection, anything really. you knew about his past from when he had told you nonchalantly, within a few weeks of your acquaintance. you always hoped he’d find someone to love him, but doubted whether people would bother looking beyond his bleak surface, and into his excellent mind. lost in thought, you found yourself getting drowsier. you also fell asleep generally quickly, limbs aching from the stupid car ride.

- the night passed.

- illumi was the first to wake up at 5am, stoic and in the same place he had fallen asleep in. no surprise there.

- but you.

- that was the first thing he saw when his eyes opened.

- he did not expect you to be lying on him lazily, snuggling into his body, arm and leg comfortably wrapped around his side. you were breathing lightly, face burrowing onto the ridge of his chest.

- i suppose you didn’t expect to be there either, which he realized, but the point still remained.

- why were on you his chest.

- “y/n.”

- no answer.

- illumi could have pushed you away; in fact, he could have blown you 983 metres away (his personal record).

- but he didn’t.

- it wasn’t the thought of disturbing your comfort that stopped illumi from hurling you into oblivion. it wasn’t the fact that he explicitly enjoyed it, either. he remembered that the mission was today; if he were to wake you, and you hadn’t slept enough, you wouldn’t be at your upmost performance.

- the murder of the ten dons was his priority, right? yes. it was. there was no doubt about it. that was the only and final reason he wouldn’t wake you. end of discussion.

- so, illumi stayed there, waiting for you to wake up and get off of him. 30 minutes passed, and he watched you for every single one.

- hard as it was to admit, watching you rise and fall in sync with his chest made the spark of emotion in his core grow fervently. what had that foreign feeling been? yesterday, he had settled at friendship, but now he wasn’t so sure.

- you looked so peaceful while you slept. less confusing. he remembered the time you had accidentally complimented his hair when the two of you had first met. he had found that amusing. he remembered the time you got a nosebleed from hitting your face too hard - it was after laughing at his teenage pictures, which perplexed him greatly. he remembered the times you two had sat together, working and theorizing on missions, accidentally meeting eyes or brushing hands. one time, you had dipped one of his pins in ink and scratched his name on some paper “for fun”. you had handed it to him and, for some unknown reason, the scrap was still tucked safely in his wallet. your unrivaled intelligence, your idiotic sense of humour, your smile, your lack of common sense, your twinkling eyes that so ironically contrasted his, everything. everything crossed his mind while he lay there.

- illumi found it strange how people remembered the oddest things at the oddest times.

- why did he think of that now, as you were sleeping? even worse, on the day of a meticulously planned assassination. why couldn’t he manipulate his emotions to stop fluctuating around you so much?

- it all frustrated him.

- why had he let you call him by “illumi” so quickly? mr zoldyck would have been fine. and why had he been so lenient with your antics? no one else got to touch his pins. why did he feel like keeping you on his chest forever, and keeping you safe? most importantly, why was he thinking about you so much?

- his contemplation came to a halt when he heard you stir a little in your sleep.

- finally, you’d wake up and he could forget about this entire problem.

- he watched you, expecting you to get up soon.

- you began shuffling around, brushing against his chest, and soon your eyes fluttered open, hazy and glazed over. it almost seemed like you were still in a dream, in some sort of half-sleep.

- “huh?” you whispered quietly, still lying on illumi. you looked up lazily, meeting eyes with him.

- “oh... i get it...” you hummed quietly, falling back onto his chest.

- he furrowed his brows.

- “why are you here?” you hugged him from the side, softly laughing at your ridiculous dream. he tensed up at you embracing him, but soon relaxed after realizing what was going on.

- illumi looked at you, one eyebrow raised. did you... think you were dreaming?

- to be honest, he found it kind of entertaining, the way you were fawning over him. if he let you stay there, he could figure out a lot of things about his newly found emotion. it could be worth it. just not today.

- illumi came back to his senses fairly quickly; you were obviously awake now, so why couldn’t you get off of him already?

- “y/n.”

- “mmm? what? so serious all the damn timeee, illum-”

- “you aren’t dreaming. get off.”

- SHIT

- SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

- you jolted off him immediately, staring down at illumi zoldyck.

- the real illumi zoldyck.

- oh my god what. what. what. what.

- every nerve in your body began to panic, and, in the stress of trying to find the correct words to say, you just ended up making some sort of incomputable “aaaahhh” noise and jumping off the bed.

- illumi had finally gotten up and was now staring concernedly at you.

- an awkward pause.

- “let me just start by saying i did not-”

- “y/n. we have more pressing priorities for today. i don’t care.”

- illumi zoldyck had lied. even to himself. he did care. and so what if he ignored it until it festered so intensely inside of him he couldn’t do anything but tell you? he cared about you. and he knew it.

- “ok. you’re right. you’re right! illumi. one question. was i like that the whole night?”

- “i don’t know. i woke up at 5 and you were there.”

- you looked at the clock. it was 6am? what had he been doing for an hour? you opened your mouth to ask but closed it soon after. you recalled your thoughts about illumi growing up void of affection, or love, or appreciation.

- some questions were best left unanswered.

- “how long was i... mumbling like that?”

- “a few minutes.”

- you gulped. there were a few things you had to come to terms with. shutting your eyes firmly, you apologised profusely, annoyed at yourself.

- “y/n. i don’t care.” he lied once again.

- “you’re right!” you rambled - “the ten dons are today! it doesn’t matter what i said... none of it matters, we can both just forget it!”

- you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone.

- “so all we need to do is go over the plan one last time, get kalluto, and then we’ll carry it out, and soon enou-”

- “stop it. you’re wasting time. just go and get ready.”

- you sighed and smiled weakly. on the inside, you were sure your soul had died a little.

- while you left to change, overcome by embarrassment, illumi lingered by the bed for a few seconds. he tried to push down whatever he was currently feeling, but it was no use. the feeling in his core had risen up to his throat, a burst of something waiting to leave his lips.

- for the first time in a while, illumi zoldyck smiled. not at murder, or at power, or fulfillment, or achievement, or even villainy.

- illumi zoldyck had smiled at the thought of you.

- let’s just say illumi had trouble focusing on his mission.

i am honestly so fucking sorry you had to read that whole thing. the way i am literally in love with illumi zoldyck and ended up writing 2857 words bye bye bye i’m so sorry!!! PLZ what?? anyways,, i feel like i heavily underwrote hisoka now, since i did such a prologue thing for this! honestly i feel like this one came out a little boring, im sorry again AAAAA just agh; chrollo should b coming when i have time but i have exams rn so idkkkk hh

either way, likes or reblogs or whatever are super appreciated, but don’t feel forced to or anything! either way, i feel like no one’s gonna see this with my reach LMAOO but anyways thank you for reading, if you made it here! feedback and tips for writing on here are always helpful :)

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spicyicymeloncat · 2 years ago

Text

Crystalised part 2 ep 19 spoilers

Hey guys the eps came out so and I physically can’t watch Ninjago like normal anymore so here’s my thought vomit for those who care

This episode is already amazing it starts with levitating Ck and his long “sooooooooo” like he really is just a yassified bimbo king overlord. This image will never leave me and I will continue to treat the ck like this for the rest of the show

Ck calling out Harumi for her heterosexual crimes as he should as he should. Ck looks into the camera at the writers like “why are u pushing this weird ship”

It’s nice to know ck actually thought about how elemental masters work lol. Man’s aware of the patterns which is more than the ninja can say yknow

Ck is also like “no Harumi you get to take sick leave. Because heterosexuality is a disease” (for all intents and purposes this is a joke - specifically about how heterosexual romances are written so badly - especially in Ninjago)

Wu failing to explain things. On brand. He has the same chaotic energy as the rest of them.

*checks zombies off of the list of halloween tropes Ninjago has used* literally we’ve had skeletons, vampires robots cultists ghosts pirates and demons

Zane, a singular brain cell coming in to save the brain cell-less trio. However I’m very scared for him

This says NG NEWS. Which means Ninjago is probably shortened to NG. But does that mean it is in some regard acknowledged as once being two separate words. Did they in universe name the city bc it’s where the ninjas go?

It just says

Breaking News!

Breaking news! breaking news!

Also hmm vinny. But I already know what’s going on over there. Can see the father son similarities considering ice chapter.

Also freaking “mystery news paper sender” trying to be anonymous but also screaming “wtf is wu so slow!!” I mean we all know who it is and the mental image of them screaming silently at Wu’s slow brain cells is hilarious. Seriously who tf is stealing the brain cells at the monastery.

Wu: unfortunately I have no idea where these came fro-

Lloyd and Nya: oh look it says right here!

Wu:

He’s really just not had any turns with the brain cells. That or he’s old and doesn’t understand post

ITS THEM!!! I LOVE THE POSTAL KIDS

Antonia tall now??? It was literally one year?? Also nelson!!

Tommy got his own street ofc he did

Vinny <3

Actually that was sick, brain cell-less trio <3 good on ya. Also jay is able to swing Cole’s hammer with ease and I hope we all remember this

Really thought wu was just gonna break and enter, especially since they saw the news and can probably guess vinny is at work rn. Wu said “I am now a criminal. Crime is the only answer now”

WAS HE GONNA SWEAR

WAS BIG G GONNA SAY ASS?

Big g and little g are having a moment tm meanwhile Wu is just having a non brain cell-iest time ever

(Can we appreciate my commitment to not saying his name)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago crystalized spoilers #Ninjago crystalized #reaction #my first reaction of the group of eps I watch is always the best ones

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sanstropfremir · 3 years ago

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I’d love your thoughts on BTS and their current image and music if you have them and aren’t afraid of the mindless internet hoards.

Personally, I liked a lot of their older stuff, but haven’t liked anything since I think the Fake Love promotions 3+ years ago. They’d started losing their personality and soul before that album cycle, but it feels like the sanitization of their image and artistry really kicked into hyperdrive after that. Now most of what they do seems like a sterile money grab driven by the Hybe hive mind which is a shame.

ok alrighty (cracks knuckles) let's get into it.

now that i've fully given myself a headache watching the majority of the bts videography, here are three points i'm going to cover:

performative character and the lack thereof

interesting aesthetics and the lack thereof, and

the inevitable cracking of perfection

ready, set, let's begin.

idol music is very clearly definited by spectacle based aesthetics. and it's had that structure for its entire existence. so i gotta hand it to hybe for this one, because they managed to revolutionize being utterly fucking average. the triumph of bts is that they're just some guys and they look like just some guys. hybe found a niche in the system and then gamed that system to the tune of one of the largest musical acts in the world. they're not marketing bts as a romantic parasocial relationship, they're marketing them as your friends. and that is just as insidious to lonely kids as a run of the mill romantic fantasy. but that's not what i'm here to talk about today.

there's a pattern i find very interesting with bts mvs and that is that i don't remember anything about them. specifically, i don't remember the stuff that's happening IN the video; not the styling, not the setpieces, if i didn't know the members i doubt i would remember them either. what i DO remember, is how expensive the production is, and specific shots. i couldn't tell you what a single member was wearing, but i sure as hell remember that first upward angle shot of jungkook and the rusted park ride in spring day. or every single time they do that birdseye shot of jin in like every video. honestly as far as i'm aware jin has only ever worn a loose fitting beige longsleeve shirt.

it took bts a long time to establish any kind of consistent visual character. and the character they did establish.... i don't know if you can call a family-friendly-style clean aesthetic 'character'. they debuted as a hip hop group to little (comparative) success, and then made a switch to doing an early version of where they're currently at right now. if you've seen any of the mvs, you know that this is a pretty significant visual change. i don't think it is inherently a bad change, since the visual branding for hiphop based groups always tips over into iffy terrritory, but it is dramatic enough and early enough that it doesn't strike me as a natural evolution. concept switch ups are common, but they usually work because the members have established a bit of character for themselves, used their performance abilities and presence to fit into a niche in the group. the idol mould is perfect for showcasing the performers; that's its function. the groups that are the most fun to watch are the ones with stage presence, the ones who know how to perform, who can act all the parts they need to play. and bts? 4/7 actual performers on a good day. in my personal opinion it's 2/7.

i'm gonna expand on what i said about jimin here (this is technically the first part of this series), because it does apply to the rest of the group on the whole:

and i think here is where we see the main crux of the difference between taemin and jimin as performers: taemin has both an artistic and an idol persona. we know and understand him to do solo work that has a separate artistic meaning to just him being an idol. even though this performance was pre-move, i would still say this applies, because he's hot off press your number, where he's acting in a story based mv. jimin on the other hand just has his idol persona. he's not known for creating the same kind of storytelling that taemin is.

bts has been very insistent on the image of the group as a single unit. despite having the size of fanbase and the revenue that would make any official solo debut a massive success, none of them have done any substantial solo work. this isn't artistically a problem, and i think it's very admirable of them to be so dedicated to the image and the legacy of the group, when that can be an uncommon trait in the industry. i do however, think it starts to become an issue when we want to discuss what the artistic visions and images of groups are. shinee taemin and solo taemin have two distinct artistic representations, and taemin himself will attest to that. it's the same with all the shinee members that have solo careers, and the same with other groups. jackson, bambam, yugyeom, and jaebeom's solo work is all very different from got7. yixing's solo work is very different from exo's. even the subunits within exo all have their own character (cbx and sc). kpop groups all ostensibly are trained under the same system, so why the disparity with bts? mostly, it's their brand of "authenticity." it's impossible to perform authentically, by the nature of performance as a medium it is unnatural, and tragically, not everyone is naturally interesting, or suited to performing: that's why the performing arts even exist in the first place. it required painstaking training to be good at performing; it is a complex set of skills and those skills are not learnt by "being authentic." being an idol is not just the singing, dancing, rapping; that's only half the work. you need to be able to act to be a compelling performer. pulling your true self and emotions out on stage every night is a fast track to burnout and psychological issues, there's plenty of evidence. the only member of bts of whom i can say for some certainty has a persona and a stage presence is jhope/hoseok, a) because he's kept up a very specific brand in the solo work that he has done, and b) he has actual dance training, not just kpop dance training. the rest of them may have the kpop dance and the kpop vocal training, but what they do not have is the ability to market themselves as compelling performers on stage. taehyung is the only other member i would hesitantly give a semblance of persona and ability to, but i think he stumbled onto that mostly by accident. and if all the pieces don't each have a distinctive colour, how can the whole machine be visually interesting?

bts may never have been able to establish an aesthetic brand, but what they did establish is an intellectual one. if you talk to a fan, the schtick they give is that "it's about the lyrics." as noble as having an intellectual or cerebral message is, what does that look like? how do you portray intellectual on stage, on film? what about intellectual is interesting to watch? cerebral, by it's literal nature as a descriptor, is very difficult to communicate in visual language because it is internal. to successfully communicate cerebrality and intellect in a short form medium like music videos requires a deft hand with metaphor that can elude even an experienced designer. and honestly? i don't know whether to applaud hybe's visual team for being the most successful subtle contemporary designers i've every seen, or to decry them as worst kpop designers i've ever seen. maybe both. regardless, i don't think they're able to cross the gap.

there are exactly four mvs where i actually remember the content of the mv and not the frame it sits in, and those are dna, idol, the singularity comeback trailer with taehyung, and war of hormone. and of an eight year career......that's not very many. these four mvs have at least an inkling of interesting spectacle and character, but even then, it's still a stretch. there is absolutely nothing to write home about in the styling for dna, other than it's well colour matched. I don't even know if I should include singularity because it involves none of the other members. idol is probably their most interesting mv because it actually has alternative styling and varies (at least a little bit) from the standard hybe boom crane shot-that-shows-off-how-we-can-afford-big-studio-spaces-and-locations. the company and the group would be loathe to admit it, but war of hormone is a well designed and interesting mv for the time it was made, with a well crafted gimmick and some actual showing of character from the members. it was the start of a potential that they squashed quite quickly because it wasn't picking up in the hiphop-group-saturated market of 2014. but the rest of their mvs? remarkably uninspired styling. like it's truly impressive how boring the styling is. and like i've said, that is the triumph in their aesthetics: they all look like normal dudes (if you had professional skin + makeup techs looking after them for the last 8 years).

all of this is a carefully crafted image that's tailored to hooking an audience, especially an international one. the mvs are boring in the relative scale of kpop, but they're just different enough from a western pop mv to catch attention. and once you do sink a hook, there's a direct clickfunnel of content that bills itself on these men being "authentic" and "self-producing," which is a huge draw to international fans, because people are racist and believe that the kpop industry is a factory that produces idols like clones, where none of them know how to do anything other than sing and dance and all the music is just handed to them by companies. and they have SO much content that there's no way a new fan can get to it all in a timely manner, so they'll never have to engage with any other kpop artists' work if they don't actively seek it out. but that's another essay for another time.

that brings us to current day, in which at least the last five bts releases have been in the same aesthetic vein of positive, sanitized, and pristine. i said it in one of my txt responses and i will say it again here: money scrubs the humanity from the aesthetic of living. minimalism is for rich white people. hybe and bts may have pivoted their style and brand directly into the lane of mass appeal, but when you pair that with the amount of money funding them, there's a cognitive dissonance between the message and the aesthetics in which it's portrayed. some people do like the clean cut looks, and i won't say that they don't work, but as you've likely gleaned from this response, it isn't my style and if you've been around and reading my writing for longer you'll know that my tastes runs much closer to the messy and the weird, so very little about any of bts' visuals have appeal to me. i do find the contradiction of applying the appeal of radical relatability with the aesthetics of expansive (and expensive) minimalism interesting; it's an extremely fine line that hybe is walking and eventually they are going to tip over, the porcelain mask will not hold forever. maintaining the all ages aesthetic is going to be difficult now that all of them are grown ass men. with other groups of this member age and generation there's very obviously been a shift to a more adult tone, and not necessarily explicitly. got7, mx, nu'est, btob, shinee, 2pm, and groups that have older members like a.c.e and sf9 have all made slow shifts in tone that are undeniably aimed at a maturing audience: they know their core fanbases are aging with them and they (the fans) are not as interested in the 'boy' in boy group. and most of them have telltale visual styles, enough so that i can distinguish a specific group's mv. the last year and change of mx mvs have a very distinctive character; got7 too, since easily as far back as if you do. i can always tell an a.c.e mv by its impeccable fashion and formic styling, and although shinee has always had a more experimental aesthetic edge, their sound and voices are unmistakable.

honestly, i can't predict what bts is going to do in the future, but i personally don't believe they can keep up their clean aesthetic indefinitely without some fallout. part of the fun of following bands is watching them grow musically, and the last couple of years of bts haven't felt like growth. there are fans that have already started realizing it, and there's likely to be more soon.

---

the third part is here, which is a short followup about some of bts' industry influence.

#this is long one dear readers #a very long one #strap in #i've sat on this for probably a week now in the hopes my brain can make some interesting connections but honestly?#not a lot about bts is interesting in comparision to the rest of the kpop industry #personally i am of the opinion that lyrics do not matter in idol music and i am not interested in them in the slightest #and bts videos ARE extremely bland visually #unless you like looking at expensive production. whatever floats your boat i guess #they make a lot of sense as an entry kpop group but once you get actually into the industry there is SO much happening #which i talk about in the third part a little bit #this is way too long i am so sorry anon and everyone else who has been asking about this topic #im not entirely sure it's coherent at this point but whatever. its out there now #i wanted this to be under 1k and that emphatically did not happen #it is double that. why am i like this #875 #kpop questions #kpop analysis #group analysis #text #answers

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blossom-hwa · 4 years ago

Text

Bloom, Bloom, Pow! |2| - CHANGMIN

Again. The pining. I know I was okay with pining in Sunflowers, but BBP is just levels of stupidity that are incomprehensible and you will see what I mean here. Anyway, once more, thanks to @wingkkun for dealing with me screaming and helping me come up with plot points I LOVE YOU <3

(Suggested playlist for reading: Bloom Bloom, Just U, and DDD by The Boyz!!)

Pairing: Changmin x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, university!au

Triggers: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 7.5k

Dancing with you, Changmin feels flowers blooming in his heart.

Part 1 | Part 2

TBZ Masterlist | Interwoven

~ you

It’s with narrowed eyes and a smile threatening to burst through your faked scowl that you confront Kevin the next day about him shoving you into a circle of random partygoers to dance with Changmin (“Y/N, that wasn’t even a dance, that was a mating dance or cult ritual or some shit – hey – don’t slap me, I’m right!”). He doesn’t even blink an eye when you hit him, just smiles that stupid shit-eating grin that he always wears when he knows he’s succeeded at something.

And God, even though it legitimately blows your entire mind, he actually managed to do something right. He somehow got you and Changmin to speak, no matter how unconventional the method, and as much as it pains you to say it, he did you a favor.

Look, normally a meddling Kevin just makes more messes (literal and metaphorical) and makes another when trying to clean them up afterward. This time, though, you have to give him a little credit for utilizing his singular brain cell to come up with this plan.

Because after several games of drunk mafia, wherein Jaehyun is accused of being the mafia three times despite being the narrator (“I thought Chanhee was smart?” “He only uses his brain for math, nothing else.”) and you and Changmin are paired up as the killers twice in a row, you get Changmin’s number, and he gets yours.

If you spend the entirety of the next day texting a certain doe-eyed boy with dimples deep enough to make you swoon, what of it?

He meets up with you for coffee the next week. Untouched by alcohol, your mind only registers his image in the real-life equivalent of HD when he stops moonwalking in place outside the café to fix you with the sweetest smile. It’s strange, the way just a single quirk of his lips or a slight squint of his eyes sends your heart fluttering to the next dimension, and his voice only makes the vision better. Changmin speaks in soft tones that wash across your skin like starshine, soothing with a slight bite of mischief that complements the sparkle in his eyes.

His soft sweater and large glasses only complete the lovely image you’re painting in your mind. Sitting down across the small table, you think your heart is either going to melt into your bloodstream or burst its way out of your chest.

He introduces himself again, as though you could’ve forgotten his name within the twenty minutes you stopped texting him on the way to the café. It’s impossible to resist saying a teasing “I know” and watching him shyly cover his face with a sweater-covered hand.

Even though it might be evil, you cheekily introduce yourself too, unable to contain a laugh when Changmin groans, putting his head in his hands. But when he lifts his face once more, it’s your turn to grow shy at the sight of his pink cheeks and the embarrassed upturn of his lips.

Once, for biology, you watched a video of a flower blooming overnight. It glowed in the dark as its petals stretched out, slowly, over the course of minutes that felt at once like seconds and eternities. Changmin’s smile is that blooming flower, petals blossoming into the widest grin that smacks of a beauty that sinks far deeper than the skin, that spreads through the blood and brushes the heart and mind with the gentlest, sparkling touch.

It stays with you, that blooming smile, on the bus ride back to campus (Changmin doesn’t come with you – he has to go to work, volunteering at a nearby dance center for kids). The memory presses warmth in your body for the rest of the day, horribly visible in the permanent (lovestruck) twinkle in your eye.

“Had a good date?” Eric asks you later, mischievous smirk on his face. He just laughs at your scowl and dodges your swat, mocking the “It wasn’t a date!” that bursts from your lips.

After all, it wasn’t a date, as much as your heart pounded throughout the entire two hours of conversation. It wasn’t a date, no matter how much you really wanted it to be. It was just two possible friends getting to know each other over a cup of coffee, right?

And even though it stings a little in your heart, you can be content with that. Seeing Changmin’s grin, that wide grin that shows all his teeth and scrunches his eyes into the cutest slits and makes flowers bloom in your heart, is all you could ever ask for.

. . .

~ changmin

Changmin just wants to know when getting punched in the chest repeatedly started feeling so good.

No, he isn’t actually getting punched in the chest every other day. It’s just that it feels that way, every time his phone vibrates with a text from you or he sees your sparkling eyes across the hall coming his way to do the dance you two have become so known for (what happened at the party went viral on the university Snapchat, sadly. Jaehyun denies taking the video, but it might just as well have been Jangjun). Your presence makes his heart thump once, twice, a thousand times in the space of mere seconds, and the force with which the thumps sound make it feel like someone is punching him in the chest over and over, but in a good way.

God, when did he get like this? Younger Changmin would cringe at these feelings, at the million metaphors he can come up with for your smile. But Older Changmin takes the feelings, stores them quietly in his heart, and lets your sparkling warmth illuminate his presence every day.

“You’re shining,” Chanhee remarks at one point after you pass by, leaving Changmin inevitably awestruck. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were pregnant. You’ve got that glow.”

He runs, of course, when Changmin leaps at him with teeth bared. Chanhee’s never really known when to shut his mouth (resulting in his entire friend group clowning him to high heaven), but, well, he’s kind of right, Changmin supposes. His lips have never spread as widely as they do when you’re trying to step all over his toes. He’s not pregnant and he’s pretty sure he isn’t glowing, but you make him feel like he might be. Glowing, that is. Not pregnant.

That’s definitely not it.

“Maybe suggest a date?” Younghoon says one day, face still half scrunched into a cringe from your biweekly dance in the literature building. “I’m so sick of seeing you two literally dance around your fucking feelings.”

“Don’t curse,” Changmin says, evading the question. “It doesn’t suit your puppy persona.”

“Like your obsession with horror movies suits your doe eyes,” Younghoon snorts, tossing his bread wrapper into a nearby trash can. “Don’t avoid the question. Why won’t you ask them out?”

That’s a good question, one that spins around Changmin’s mind every second of the day. It whirls even faster when something reminds him of you, like a pretty flower that might look nice tucked behind your ear, a notebook that’s the same design as the one you use for biology, or the special ringtone he’s set for your text messages so he can respond as fast as possible.

An awful lot of things remind him of you.

But as much as he’d like to form the words in his mouth, let those six simple words burst from his throat – “Will you go out with me?” – they die the moment they reach his lips. He’s analyzed this phenomenon from so many angles, worked through it after every time he’s met your lovely eyes, and there’s only one conclusion he’s come up with.

He, Ji Changmin, lover of horror movies and dolls and clowns and possession, is scared. Scared of asking you out, only to be rejected because you have your eye on someone else. Scared of asking you out, only to be faced with the fact that you don’t love his smiles the same way he loves yours. Scared of asking you out, only to have his heart crushed under your gentle, well-meaning hands.

The thumping in his chest turns painful and bitter when he thinks of this, unpleasantly cold and sharp, nothing like the sparkling warmth you evoke in his heart. It makes his mouth thin into a line, lips tight with the fear of splitting from your smile, never to see it again after your rejection.

“Y/N might not like me back,” is all Changmin says, though, keeping all of the metaphors and analysis hidden deep in the crevices of his brain. “I want to at least keep what we already have.”

Younghoon probably wants to start ranting about Changmin’s idiocy like Kevin always does, yelling about how there’s no way you’re not in love with him as much as he’s head over heels for you. He probably would, but Younghoon’s known Changmin for over a decade and a half so he knows there’s real fear in Changmin’s voice when he speaks of your possible rejection. His eyes soften as he pats Changmin’s head, and though he’ll complain about Younghoon messing up his hair, he’s grateful for his friend’s understanding. He’s grateful that he won’t push it further (at least for now).

So Changmin contents himself with looking forward to your texts, going on coffee dates that aren’t dates, seeing your smiles and hearing your laughs. He resists the urge to push back strands of hair that fall into your eyes, hugs you for only an appropriate amount of time, and does his best not to stare at your lips for too long, imagining what it would feel like to kiss them. Pillowy soft, sweet, gentle –

Hey. No. Changmin shakes his head. None of that pining nonsense. Your smile is everything he’s wanted to see in his life, and he’ll be content with that.

Just knowing you’re well and happy is enough.

. . . . .

~ you

It’s late afternoon, almost evening when Changmin calls. He sounds slightly breathless on the other end – he must have just finished dance practice – as he chirps your name, sending butterflies flitting into your heart. “Wanna get coffee?”

“It’s nearly six, Changmin.” You snort. “You want to get coffee now? You won’t be able to sleep later.”

“But coffee,” he whines. “I want coffee.”

“No coffee,” you decide firmly. “But I’ll buy you dinner. What do you want?”

Changmin squawks. “I can buy my own dinner!”

“You bought the coffee last time,” you argue. “It’s my turn to pay.” You can almost hear him getting ready to argue, even if he hasn’t said anything, so you head him off. “Don’t argue with me, I’ll fight you over this.”

“With what, your mediocre dance skills?” Changmin snarks.

“Excuse me?” you snap in mock indignation, secretly smiling as his laughs fill your ear. “Mediocre?”

“I’ll call you a good dancer when you actually succeed in tripping me,” he says, still giggling. “We can go to the ramen place just off campus?”

So instead of spending the evening at your dorm, working on a paper that’s due in a few days, you spend it in the dimly lit, cheap ramen restaurant across the street from the university entrance, laughing and talking with Changmin all the while trying desperately not to show how deeply your heart beats for him.

It’s so hard, you think, walking out of the restaurant a couple of hours later (after fighting over the bill – you’re pretty sure the waiter was going to have an aneurysm by the time you finally managed to toss your card to him). It’s so hard to pretend Changmin doesn’t mean something more to you, when everything about the doe-eyed boy just makes you feel like melting into the ground.

“You never stop dancing, do you?” you ask idly, watching his feet slide along the rough sidewalk. “How do your shoes hold up? They’ve got to be rubbed smooth by now.”

Changmin shrugs. “I manage,” he says, dimple visible as he twirls under a streetlamp, spinning neatly onto campus. “Dancing’s in my blood, I can’t just stop.”

“I can see that,” you say, amused. “Want some music?”

It doesn’t matter what song comes up on your phone, you’ve come to learn. You used to be a bit self-conscious of your music taste and would try to pick songs you thought he’d enjoy, but Changmin, you know now, will find a beat or a melody that he likes in anything that ends up playing. Sure enough, as soon as the first few bars sound from your phone, Changmin’s already grinning, arms floating, feet sliding in a slightly silly but nonetheless lovely dance.

For a few moments, you two stay where you are, Changmin dancing with the grace of a butterfly under the darkening sky, you watching from the side. His grin is bright, so bright, brighter than the streetlights and the moon beginning to glow behind the clouds. You can’t do anything but watch, rooted in place by his grace and beauty.

It’s a bit like touching stars, seeing Changmin’s smile. It should seem impossible to be within reach of something so bright that it can shine across unfathomable distances to light up the night sky, just as it feels impossible to be in the presence of Changmin’s blooming grin. His eyes crinkle like small beacons of light sparkling across the rippling blanket of night, his mouth curving into the brightest crescent moon.

And as you watch, mesmerized, with that lovely crescent smile comes a twitch of the fingers, a slight glint in the eye that’s all too familiar by now.

It’s more of a smirk than a smile, you muse, as the corners of your lips begin to turn upward as well. It’s endlessly alluring, pulling you into his space as Changmin’s elegant steps evade your awkward feet. Your laughs fill the empty university paths, smiles lighting the sidewalk as music blasts from the phone you’re still clutching in your hand, flooding the air, mixing with your yelps and giggles into one singular melody.

“Still mediocre,” Changmin sings as he steps around you once more, effortlessly avoiding your flailing arms. “When will I ever be able to call you a good dancer?”

Once again, like it often does in Changmin’s presence, your body makes a decision without waiting on input from your brain. All you know is that your mouth is suddenly yelling, “Today!” and then you leap.

His eyes widen in surprise, but even his graceful legs aren’t enough to keep him upright this time. You crash into his chest with an audible thump. For a split second, you feel yourself suspended in air as your feet leave the ground, and then the two of you topple over onto the soft grass lining the edges of the path.

Silence. Dead silence.

Then breathless, uncontrollable laughter erupts from Changmin’s lips.

It feels like seconds and it feels like hours that you spend there, embarrassed giggles turning to snorts as you realize how stupid this whole situation is. Changmin’s chest is warm beneath your body, heaving with laughs that burst from his throat and mix with the music still blaring from your hand. You can only follow his example, wheezing breaths from the pit of your stomach.

“Am I a good dancer?” you finally gasp, the last strains of the song fading in the air. “Am I, Changmin?”

His eyes stare into yours, crinkled with joy, twinkling under the rising moon. “Yes,” he says, lips stretched wide. “You are.”

The last vestiges of laughter have died by now. Slowly, silence takes over the moment as you stare into Changmin’s soft eyes, losing yourself in his gaze.

And only then do you realize the position you’ve put yourself in.

He’s right under you, chest pressed flush against yours. You swear you can hear his heartbeat – he has to be able to hear or at least feel yours, it’s hammering at a pace that’s definitely unhealthy – and oh God, your faces are barely inches apart.

You should move. This is a horrible, awkward position, and it must be even worse for Changmin, who’s being buried underneath you. But you can’t shift. You can’t. Something’s rooting you in place.

Changmin doesn’t move either, despite how uncomfortable he must be. If anything, he looks peaceful as he gazes into your eyes, his smile growing smaller but infinitely gentler, lips slightly parted and –

Oh.

His lips.

Your throat goes dry as you realize just how close you are to kissing him.

It isn’t just you, you swear. Changmin’s eyes move, too, shifting slightly from staring into yours to gaze upon your own lips.

Your heart races.

For a second, one blissful, agonizing second, you think you’re going to close the inch gap and press your lips to his, or maybe he’ll brave the chasm and press his lips to yours. For one single warm second, you really think that Changmin might return your feelings, that he might even feel as deeply for you as you feel about him.

Then the next song starts playing on your phone, and with that song, something snaps. The moment breaks. You become painfully aware of the cool night air brushing against your arms and making you shiver. The blissful moment disappears as Changmin moves, presumably to roll out from under you, and you quickly shift yourself off of his chest, freeing him. With fingers still trembling with adrenaline, you turn off your music.

He stands up quickly, brushing off his pants, smiling like nothing happened. Under the glare of the streetlamp, you can’t tell if you’re just imagining the pink dusting his cheeks, the red tinting his ears. “You’re a good dancer,” is all he says. His words betray nothing about his thoughts on what just happened.

Hot, shameful embarrassment rushes through your blood as you take his proffered hand, pulling you up. “I’m glad you think so,” you say, trying to sound as light and teasing as you always do while inwardly beating yourself over getting your hopes up.

How could you ever think a boy as lovely as Changmin would love you, after all? How could such perfection ever fall for you, someone with barely a hint of Changmin’s grace and fire? How could you be so foolish as to even think that way?

Changmin drops you off at the front of your dorm like he always does, smiles like he always does, hugs you like he always does. He’s as close as he always is, never more than a few feet away, yet even wrapped in his embrace, you feel further apart from him than ever.

You watch him walk away from just outside your dorm, waiting for the last possible moment to slip inside. Something’s different about him, something strange. Lost in your own disappointment and embarrassment, though, you can’t put your finger on it.

It isn’t until hours later that you realize he wasn’t dancing as he disappeared into the night.

. . .

~ younghoon

When Changmin walks into the room and immediately collapses on the wooden floorboards, the door swinging shut behind him with a bang, Younghoon knows something is wrong even before his friend’s head thumps against the ground with a loud noise that probably won’t mean good things for his few remaining brain cells. Judging by Changmin’s prone position, though, he doesn’t seem to care. And anyway, his brain cells have been malfunctioning ever since he met you. Younghoon doesn’t think losing a few of them will be too big of an issue.

Younghoon shuts the lid of his laptop with a brief sigh, resigning himself to a night of consoling an angsty Changmin and not catching up on all of the episodes of the dramas he’s missed. “So what happened with Y/N?” he asks, making sure to infuse his voice with as much exasperation as it can hold.

“How do you know it was with Y/N?” Changmin asks, voice muffled against the floor.

Younghoon snorts. Even after all this time, Changmin is still as dumb as ever. “Any time you get like this, it’s because of Y/N,” he says. “So tell me what happened.”

“I hate that you’re right,” Changmin mumbles, picking his head up off the ground just enough to look at Younghoon. He opens his mouth to talk, then shuts it. His lips press together and he raises his head further, grinding the heels of his palms into his eyes with a groan.

“I’m waiting,” Younghoon sings, barely able to disguise his eager impatience.

Changmin scowls, which sends chills down Younghoon’s back, but he thankfully starts talking. “We went to dinner,” he begins, “at that ramen place. You know, the one right across campus?”

“Is this important?” Younghoon interrupts, then puts his hands up when Changmin gives him a death glare. Better not to anger the squirrel further. “Uh, never mind. Continue.”

“Okay, well, we went to dinner. And Y/N paid by throwing their card at the waiter.” Changmin’s lips jut out. “Then we left and were walking back and… I was dancing? Y/N was playing music? And, uh, we were kind of dancing together at some point when we got on campus and like, before, I told them I’d only say they were a good dancer if they could trip me up so Y/N actually just leapt at me and then we fell over and they were on top of me and, uh, we started laughing until…”

Oh, God. This is just a K-drama in real life. Younghoon leans forward, bunching blankets into his hand with a vice grip, waiting for the climax that he knows is going to come. “Until?” he prompts when Changmin stays silent.

Changmin takes a deep breath. “Until we realized what position we were in,” he squeaks. His head thumps back to the floor.

Younghoon shifts on the bed, now clutching his pillow as he tries desperately not to scream. “Tell me you kissed,” he says, voice strangled. “Tell me you fucking kissed. You better have.”

He better have, or Younghoon is going to pull a Changmin and start biting things.

Changmin rolls over and stares at the ceiling for a solid second in silence. For that one blissful moment, Younghoon really thinks that a stupid smile is going to break across his dumb best friend’s face, that he’s going to start waxing poetic about how your lips felt against his, soft and pillowy and so much better than he imagined (because there’s no way Changmin hasn’t imagined kissing you with how deep he’s fallen, absolutely no fucking way).

Then Changmin screams.

Years of growing up together have taught Younghoon which Changmin screams mean excitement or sadness or every emotion in between. This scream is nothing good. There is no happiness in Changmin’s raw vocal cords, no hidden joy in his tightly shut eyes, only pure angst and disappointment and frustration palpable in the screech that’s echoing between the dorm walls.

Younghoon heaves the pillow in his hand and throws it at his best friend. He picks up a nearby stuffed animal and throws it too. Then he throws another. And another. And another.

Changmin just takes it, soft things bouncing off his body into random corners of the room. His eyes are still squinched shut as though seeing nothing will erase the angst undoubtedly coursing through his blood. But Younghoon knows better.

“You fucking idiot,” he snaps when he’s run out of things to throw (hell, he even went so far as to throw Changmin’s Annabelle doll too). “You, Ji Changmin, are a fucking idiot.”

A muffled “I know” sounds under the pillow, which Changmin has taken and put on top of his face. He says something else that Younghoon can’t hear.

“Take that pillow off your face,” he says, feeling more like a long-suffering parent than a best friend (is this how his mom felt every time he did something stupid? If so, he’s now gained a whole new level of appreciation for her). “I can’t hear you.”

“I wanted to kiss them!” Changmin wails, sitting up. The pillow drops off his face, landing on the ground with a sad flop that Younghoon thinks very much represents Changmin’s current state of being. “I wanted to, but then their phone started playing the next song and it just broke the moment and I actually started thinking, what if Y/N doesn’t like me, what if I’m reading everything wrong, what if –”

“Ji Changmin.” Younghoon cuts in before Changmin goes completely off his head. “You are undoubtedly the dumbest human being I have ever had the displeasure of knowing for over a decade.”

“I –”

“I thought I was the dumb one in this friendship,” Younghoon continues, refusing to let Changmin even get a word in. “I thought I was the stupid one – I get worse grades than you, I have made questionable choices, the only things that run through my mind are anime and bread, but you – I have no words for you.” It’s Younghoon’s turn to flop facedown, though on his bed and not the floor. “You idiot.”

Silence. Then – “What if Y/N doesn’t like me, though?”

Younghoon very nearly groans as he picks his head out of his blankets, but the quivering note in Changmin’s voice keeps him from voicing as much of his frustration as he would like. “Ji Changmin,” he says carefully. “I’m dumb, unobservant, and I know I didn’t realize I liked my own partner before we had that confrontation, but even I’m smart enough to tell how head over heels Y/N is for you.”

More silence. Then Changmin speaks again. “I moved first,” he confesses softly. “I kind of twitched and I think Y/N took that as me not liking it, and then I just made things worse by pretending nothing happened.”

“You need to clear that up,” Younghoon says. “Talk. Admit that you really have feelings. Suggest a date. I don’t know what exactly you need to do, but I do know that if you let this go because you’re scared of rejection, you’re going to regret it for a long, long time.”

There’s still a pout on Changmin’s lips, his eyes wide and soft and sad, but there’s a slight steel to his gaze now, a sliver of determination glinting on his face as he nods the slightest bit. “Okay,” he mumbles. “Okay.”

Younghoon breathes a sigh of relief. “Please get this done within the next week,” he says, opening his laptop again. “I can’t stand the two of you pining any longer than that. And also, you’re picking up all the stuffed animals on the ground. I don’t care if I threw them, you caused me to throw them and you can’t deny that you deserved it.”

Changmin grumbles but he does as he’s told, tossing the soft things littering the ground back onto their respective beds. Younghoon just sighs, turning his attention back to his abandoned drama. If his best friend doesn’t get his shit together, he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands. In fact, some preventative measures might be needed. And he knows who’s ready to provide.

He opens the schemers group chat.

. . .

~ eric

Eric has done his absolute best to avoid acting like Kevin his whole life – look, he might be a nice person, but he’s a complete and utter mess – but when he reads Younghoon’s account of what apparently happened between you and Changmin earlier tonight, he feels the sudden urge to start screeching as loudly as Kevin does when things fail.

He looks at the texts one more time. Maybe he read something wrong. Maybe the ‘he didn’t kiss y/n’ actually says ‘he kissed y/n’ instead. Maybe his brain is just malfunctioning at a scale it has never attained before (which is insane, considering the heights of stupidity he’s already reached in his less than twenty years of life).

bread boy: so I ask him if he kissed y/n bc why wouldn’t he. why the fuck wouldn’t he

bread boy: and he just screams

bread boy: DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?

bread boy: H E D I D N T K I S S Y / N

There’s more after that, stuff that Eric doesn’t want to read a second time for fear of losing more brain cells than he can afford. Anyway, the little read by one message at the bottom of the screen has just turned to read by two, and Eric has a sinking feeling he knows what’s coming next. He counts one, two, three seconds of silence.

Then an ear-splitting scream sounds from the floor beneath him.

Yep. That’s Kevin, expressing all the emotions Eric can’t because Sunwoo is passed out on his bed not three feet away.

In lieu of a scream, a pained groan bursts from Eric’s throat and muffles itself into the pillow he’s pressed against his face. He’s always done his best to be understanding of people who can’t as readily admit they’re in love as he can – he knows he’s somewhat of a special case, really – but this level of dancing (literally) around each other is reaching levels of idiocy that even he can’t process.

moon boy: my ra just yelled at me and threatened to write me up

moon boy: but in my defense

moon boy: I cannot handle this

skater boy: neither can i

skater boy: I’m going to talk to y/n

This last text is the reason why the next day, at precisely one in the afternoon, Eric is waiting on the quad just outside the literature building, sitting on soft green grass that looks a little too bright for his current frustrated brain to be happy about.

After a few minutes of waiting, you show up, looking very tired, slightly unhinged, and in general like you spent the whole night thinking about a certain doe-eyed dancer. Eric raises an eyebrow at your disheveled appearance when you flop down on the grass. “Thought too hard about Changmin last night?”

Your head whips around so fast Eric’s surprised your neck didn’t snap. “How did you know?”

“It’s so obvious,” Eric replies. “You only get this worked up when Changmin does or doesn’t do something. So what happened this time?”

You narrow your eyes. “You already know,” you state. Not a question. A statement.

Embarrassment floods Eric’s face, but he just raises his arms and shrugs. “Guilty,” he says, mind racing for a way not to tell you about the schemer group chat. “Changmin spilled everything to Younghoon and he texted me to rant. So.” He leans forward, fixing you with a stare that won’t allow you to question his story. “That was a moment worthy of an entire fucking K-drama. So why didn’t you kiss?”

With a groan, you lie flat down on the quad. “Wouldn’t K-dramas drag it on, just for the sake of angst and extra views?” you mumble.

“Y/N.”

You groan. “I just… I wanted to,” you defend. “But my fucking phone was a cockblocker and it started playing a new song that ruined the god damn moment and, well…”

“Well?” Eric prompts.

Your eyes turn from staring up at the sky to looking at him. Something that reeks suspiciously of fear dances in your gaze. “I don’t know. For a moment, when we were just looking at each other, I really thought he might like me the same way. But, just… how could anyone like me that much? Especially him?”

For a second, Eric debates whether or not to say the words sitting on the tip of his tongue. They’ll reveal a part of himself that he doesn’t necessarily want you to know about. What he wants to say could sour your relationship, maybe even ruin it completely.

But his mind chooses this moment to throw caution to the wind, and the words slip out of Eric’s mouth before he can stop them.

“I liked you.”

Eric can pinpoint the exact moment his three-word sentence registers in your brain. Your eyes display a myriad of emotions – blank, then confused, then surprised, then something that looks like sadness and disappointment and terror rolled into one messy ball. You sit up. “Run that by me one more time,” you say slowly. “Tell me I heard you wrong.”

“I didn’t lie,” Eric says, trying to soothe the tiny pinprick of hurt in his heart. It’s much less painful than he expected, which is nice, but it’s still there. “I liked you the moment I helped you up after I hit you with my skateboard, but it was so easy to tell you were in love with Changmin that I wasn’t going to say anything about it.”

You put your face in your hands. “Eric,” you say, voice muffled behind your fingers, “just… why? How? We didn’t even know each other back then.”

Eric sighs. “I’ve always fallen in love too easily and with the smallest things,” he says. Years of working through this phenomenon have produced a coherent explanation that rolls off his tongue with ease. “Small stuff. A smile, or, like, a laugh. One time, I fell in love with this guy because of the way he tapped his pencil against his lips when he was thinking. I don’t know, you might just call it a crush, but… I don’t think crushes are supposed to be as deep as they feel for me.” He shrugs. “I fell in love with you because of your voice.”

Your eyes peek out just between your fingers. “My voice?”

“Yeah.” He plucks at the grass around him, nervously trying to give his hands something to do. “It’s… your voice is really soothing. Gentle. When you talked to me for the first time, it felt like… it felt like I could drown in it.” The words make him want to cringe, but they’re real. They’re truly how he felt, how he still feels, a little bit. “Really. I swear I’m not lying.”

This time, you fully put your hands down when you speak. “Are you… are you still in love with me?” you ask in measured tones, though he can still hear the slight shake in your words.

Eric debates whether or not to lie, then settles on the truth. You’d probably see through him, anyway. “A little,” he answers honestly. “But this isn’t about me. I fall in and out of love easily, that’s just part of who I am. You’re in love with Changmin, and this is about you and him. You just asked how anyone could fall in love with you, and I just wanted to tell you that it’s entirely possible for someone to fall in love with someone as amazing as you are. If I felt this way about your voice, imagine how Changmin must feel about your everything.”

Now you’re back to hiding your face in your hands, though it looks a bit like you’re holding back tears this time around. Eric waits in silence for you to gather yourself.

“Why are you helping me, if you liked me like… like that?” you finally ask, looking up once more. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

Eric shrugs. “You’re worthy of love,” he says. “I knew I was going to get over this… crush sort of love at some point. You, on the other hand, are definitely going to regret letting Changmin go, if you do. You’re so obvious.” He snorts. “But yeah. You’re worthy of love. And I think Changmin can give you that sort of love that you deserve.”

Soft steel enters your eyes as your spine straightens slightly, exhibiting a determination that wasn’t there before. “Eric,” you say carefully, “anyone who ends up falling in love with you will be the lucky one. Not the other way around.”

It’s Eric’s turn to get shy. “Thanks, Y/N,” he mumbles, uselessly trying to swallow his smile and hide the pink rising in his cheeks.

The hug that you give him afterward feels sweet, soft, gentle in the grip of your arms around his shoulders. “Thank you, Eric,” you say when you pull away. “Remember what I said, yeah? You’ll find someone who falls as deeply for you as you do for them.”

“Only if you remember what I said,” Eric bargains, smiling. “Talk to Changmin.”

A tiny sigh leaves your lips, but you nod. “I will.” Your smile turns slightly scared, but the soft steel is still in your eyes, brightening your gaze. “See you later?”

Eric prays that the light in your eyes never fades. “See you,” he says softly.

You turn, just about to stand and walk away. Eric’s about to walk off himself when you spin back around. “Hey, Eric. For the record, you’re a great friend.” The smile on your lips is genuine, lovely, brilliant in the afternoon sunlight. “I’m glad to know you.”

Something blooms in Eric’s chest, erasing the pinprick of pain that came with your initial rejection. With those words, his heart grows warm, full, happy.

There’s no hurt left.

Eric smiles back, this time with full sincerity. “I’m glad to know you too.”

. . . . .

~ changmin

Changmin can’t believe that he isn’t even dating you, but he’s already gotten the heart-stopping text that consists of four deceptively simple and terrifying words: we need to talk.

He knows what you’re referring to. After all, the mere thought of your lips so close to his, breath puffing slightly against his skin and eyes sparkling under the starlight, brings butterflies to his stomach and makes his brain turn to mush.So he agrees, mostly because Younghoon knocked some sense into him, but also because he needs some closure or he thinks he’s going to explode.

A quick ok! when are you free? (hopefully) doesn’t hint at any of the fear squeezing his heart into the next dimension, and as a result, he’s standing on the empty green quad just outside the literature building, feet tapping uncontrollably against the ground. A few students glance at him as they pass by, but he can’t register their stares. There’s only one person on his mind.

You appear just a few minutes after he’s arrived. Somehow, his heart speeds up even more when you lock eyes with him – it feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest. “Hi,” he says, barely able to keep the squeak out of his voice.

“Hi,” you reply, carefully coming to a stop just in front of him. “I, uh…”

Silence falls as the two of you look anywhere but at each other. Changmin can already feel the heat creeping up his cheeks. “Um,” he says, trying to breach the insurmountable gap building between you two, “I…”

A voice that sounds a little too much like Younghoon’s screams in his head just confess! as you look up hesitantly. “I didn’t want to move,” he begins lamely. “Last time. When, um, you know.”

The slightest dip of your head indicates comprehension. Nothing else in your face changes, save for a slight sparkle beginning to grow in your eye that gives Changmin a little bit of hope. “I got startled by the music from your phone,” he continues, voice still small but growing in strength. “And, um. It made me start thinking again. Because I like you, I like you so much, but, well, I just didn’t think you could ever like me that way. So I moved.”

Your gaze has dipped down once more, focused intently on your hands tightly clasped together. Then, just as Changmin’s beginning to fear the worst, you snap your head up. Your eyes glimmer with something that feels dangerously like the hope beginning to bubble in Changmin’s heart. “You like me?” you ask, gentle tones strained, desperate for something it seems you can barely even dream of.

Changmin swallows. “So much that it hurts,” he admits, voice softer than ever.

One terrifying second passes in silence after his admission, then a smile breaks across your face that’s so blinding, so bright it could rival the golden afternoon sunlight streaming from the sky. “Come here, Changmin,” you say. Your fingers twitch in a gesture he’s shown you so many times, and, like a magnet, he steps forward, following your words as though there’s nothing he’d rather do in his life.

And like a wave, like water crashing against the rocks at the bottom of a cliff, you surge forward, gripping the front of his shirt and pressing your lips to his with a gentle strength that physically knocks the breath out of Changmin’s chest.

Kissing you is everything he imagined and more, Changmin thinks once his brain catches up to the present. Your lips are still locked with his, eyes open just enough to gaze up at him through your eyelashes. Changmin can feel his own eyes beginning to flutter shut with heady bliss, but he forces them to stay just slightly open, just enough that he can see how you’re sparkling in the sunshine.

You taste of blooming flowers, of roses scenting the air, springtime, clear skies with not a single cloud marring the expanse of blue. His eyes finally close as he gains the courage to raise a hand to your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. Warmth blossoms in his heart as he deepens the kiss and you respond with gentle fervor, fingers still clutching the front of his shirt.

Air forces you to break away, shy eyes unable to gaze at each other for longer than a few seconds at a time. Heat has risen fully up Changmin’s cheeks – he’s sure his ears are bright red – and you can’t stop the smile that’s spread across your face, embarrassed and lovely all at once.

“I like you too,” you confess suddenly, as though the fact that you just kissed him didn’t give that completely away. “So much. I never thought that you’d feel the same.”

“Your smile is more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen,” Changmin protests, ears burning even more as you cover your face, flustered. “I don’t think there’s any way I couldn’t feel the same.”

“Glad to hear that.” You uncover your mouth, letting Changmin bear the full force of your grin. “Because I’ve said the same thing about your smile to Kevin a million times.”

Changmin giggles, this time hiding behind his own hand. “Our friends must hate us,” he says.

Your eyes crinkle with laughter. Changmin thinks he’s in heaven. “They must,” you agree. “I mean, we started interacting with a… Kevin’s calls it a fucking mating dance, but, uh…”

“Younghoon calls it a cult ritual,” Changmin supplies, giggling as you snort with laughter. “But yeah. We must have put them through a lot, huh?”

“True.” Eyes sparkling like rose petals in the sunshine gaze into his with a softness that makes him want to melt. “Doesn’t matter, though, does it?” You smile even more widely, if that’s possible. “I’m glad that we met. That we’re here now, no matter how strange the beginning.”

Changmin’s smile turns smaller, lips no longer stretching as widely, but holding even more warmth than before as he raises a hand. This time, though, his fingers don’t twitch. He simply holds out his palm. “Dance with me, Y/N?” he asks.

When you tangle your fingers with his, Changmin feels flowers burst into bloom in his chest. Sunlight sparkles like glittering rain around your grinning figure as he twirls you on the grass, eyes crinkled and smiling with laughter, so much pure laughter that echoes in the air and mixes with the sunshine to create a golden warm aura of bliss.

(“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks you two reach the front of your dorm. You’ve stopped dancing in favor of holding each other’s hands softly, tightly, gently, and Changmin thinks he’s going to melt in your gaze when you nod with the most brilliant smile on your face.

If the exchange ends in a kiss that feels like a dream, a dream of flower petals tinted with gold raining around him as warm as your fingers interlaced with his, well, Changmin doesn’t mind if Younghoon teases him about it later. He doesn’t mind the smirks, the nudges, the one too many pokes in his side.

His heart is too busy blooming, after all, blooming with thoughts of your love and your smile.)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 punch in the face for this couple for giving me so much pain while writing them)

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nugnthopkns · 4 years ago

Text

tell you i miss you but i don’t know how

word count: 2.7k

warnings: insinuated fem!reader, a singular swear word, it’s kinda angsty i guess

recommended listening: the story of us | taylor swift

a/n: long time hockey fan, long time reader, first time writer. i’ve been thinking about posting for a while and decided to bite the bullet. no time like the present i suppose. tagging some folks i feel might be interested (but there’s literally zero pressure please feel free to ignore) @matbaerzal @davidpastrsnack @troubatrain @jamiedrysdales

Breaking up was for the best.

You repeat the phrase like a mantra. It’s the first thing you think when you wake up, in the back of your mind as you sit in your cubicle, and verbally repeated anytime you pass a mirror. Deep down you know it’s right; you and Tyson aren’t on compatible lifepaths, and that’s okay. You just wish it didn’t hurt so much to say goodbye. He’s an easy person to miss, with his infectious smile and quick wit. Tyson’s the only person who’s made you laugh so hard tears roll down your cheek; the one who always picked up a bag of pretzels on his way home from the rink so you could have a snack after work. Though you didn’t expect to get over him quickly, you had no idea you’d still miss him nearly a year later. Or that it would hurt so much every time you see him in public.

♠♠♠♠♠

The bar offers a reprieve from the brisk Denver wind. October has been unusually chilly so far, but the bodies packed like sardines in the open room create all the heat insulation you need. It’s a Friday night and you’re hoping to unwind after a stressful week at work. It’s audit season, meaning you’ve had to pull crazy late nights as you read over the financial records of the firm’s junior partners. Today was particularly terrible, with the computer system crashing, and you really need a drink. Your friends are supposed to meet you, but a text confirms that traffic is heavier than they anticipated and they’re running late.

Not wanting to waste precious time, you head straight for the only empty space at the bar. A bartender a few years older than you sees you approach and leans close to hear your order over the thumping bass. “Could I just grab a gin and tonic?” you ask, and she smiles before turning away to make your drink. A minute later a drink is placed in your hand and you scour the venue for a table. A small booth is available in the corner; the perfect size for your party. It turns out to be the perfect spot for people watching, and you casually sip your drink and occasionally scroll through instagram while you wait. A text from your friend alerts you everyone is fifteen minutes out. Though it’s pretty crowded everyone seems to be congregating on the dance floor so you don’t hesitate to leave your table and order a second drink.

This gin and tonic goes down easier than the first, and soon you’re on your third. There’s still no sign of your friends anywhere and the balls of your feet ache from the heels you wore to the office today. You abandon your plan to meet them at the door, firing off a text giving your location in the venue. Once sitting down, you take off your shoes and rub at your feet. Why did you choose today to abide by the dress code? You typically wore a discreet pair of sneakers and wished you could go back in time to change your shoe choice.

“I see you’re still drinking gin and can’t wear heels for more than two hours.”

His voice sends shivers down your spine. You look up to see Tyson smiling down at you, and the room spins around you. The entire reason you picked this bar was because it was the only one the boys didn’t frequent, but it seems they’re here anyways.

“I’m consistent,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. The sight of Tyson makes your heart clench. He looks good, glowing the way that means the team came out with a win and that he played well and put up some points.

Tyson nods to the empty seat across from you, and against your better judgement you allow him to sit. A small section of your brain thinks he’s going to confess he’s been miserable the last few months, that he’s still madly in love with you. It seems to be the part controlling the rest of your body. “That’s one thing that’ll never change. How’s work?”

You hum wistfully, wishing he wouldn’t make small talk. How is this so easy for him? “Busy,” you sigh. “It’s audit season so the department is swamped. The boys still causing issues?”

“They’re annoying as ever.” He smiles at you again. The sick feeling in your stomach doesn’t subside. Tyson gives you a quick recap of the Avs’ season so far, and you half pay attention. You’ve gone to great lengths to avoid seeing him: switched the way you drive home, where you hang out with friends, what grocery store you go to. It’s a little ironic he’d find you here of all places.

Idle chatter occurs for a while. Tyson’s talking to you like he’s reuniting with a childhood friend, not an ex-lover. As much as you find the conversation uncomfortable, you can’t turn him away. You miss sitting with him, talking about anything under the sun. Life hasn’t been as bright since the break up. No matter how hard you try, nothing fills the Tyson sized hole in your heart. In a twisted way his presence is comforting, a reminder of what once was. Eventually his teammates realize he’s gone missing and come to whisk him away.

“See you around Y/N,” Tyson says, a little bewildered because J.T is dragging him by the belt loops.

All you can croak out is a feeble “Yeah.” He doesn’t look back once he’s away from the table. You shouldn’t have expected him to; he seems to be doing fine. Well even. Every step he takes breaks your heart a little more, and you curse yourself for missing him and down the rest of your drink.

Your friends find you crying in the bathroom and usher you home.

♠♠♠♠

Despite being separated from Tyson, you’re still close with some members of the Avalanche extended family. Mel Landeskog continually reaches out, ensuring you’re doing the best you can given the circumstances. It isn’t easy when your ex-boyfriend is the pride of Denver, plastered over every billboard in a fifteen mile radius of the city. When she called to ask if you’d emergency babysit Linnea while she ran errands you jumped at the opportunity to help.

“Thank you so much,” Mel says, cooing to her daughter who’s comfortably placed in your arms.

“It’s not a problem,” you insist, “I’m just glad I can finally start repaying you for everything you’ve done for me.”

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, telling you to text her if you need anything picked up at the store. You’re then left alone with the baby who is luckily one of the happiest you’ve ever seen. The first hour or so is spent entertaining Linnea with various toys and games. Her smile and laugh melt your heart, and your mind briefly flashes to conversations you had about children with Tyson. You push them from your mind, not wanting to lose your focus. The child in front of you is the one that matters, not the hypothetical one from times past. Around two she gets fussy; a bottle and quick diaper change satiate her.

“You having fun pretty girl?” you coo. “I’m not always the most exciting to be around.” She doesn’t respond; just looks up at you with heavy lids. You pull her closer to your chest, rocking gently back and forth on your heels. Within minutes she’s soundly asleep and you head upstairs to place her in the crib.

Back on the main floor, you settle into the corner of the couch. The baby monitor is on the coffee table and you keep your laptop at a low volume to ensure you’d hear anything. You sift through the mess in your inbox, deleting promotional emails and replying to those that need your attention. After killing half an hour, you quickly check on Linnea before scrolling through social media. According to twitter the Avalanche are on a six game winning streak and are looking to keep it alive. You honestly could care less about hockey anymore; it’s a painful reminder that Tyson is no longer yours. In truth you’re happy for the team because they work hard and deserve it. Other social media platforms yield nothing of interest and you soon feel yourself nodding off. Looking at the clock you realize there’s about an hour left in the baby’s nap, so you let yourself sleep.

A knock on the door startles you awake. Careful not to cause a commotion that could wake Linnea you head in the direction of the entryway. The knocking increases as you approach, and you open the door to a disheveled Tyson.

“What are you doing here?” You didn’t mean for the question to come off so rude, but it does.

He pays it no mind. “Is Gabe home yet?”

“No,” you sputter. “I’m watching Linnea while Mel stepped out.”

Tyson looks stumped. “He should be home by now. We had plans to unwind before the game.” You make no attempt to stop him from entering, and he takes his shoes off without another word. Aimlessly trailing behind him, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he heads to the guest room. “I’m gonna take a nap, have Landy wake me up when he gets home.”

“Can do,” you sigh, but it falls on deaf ears. Tyson’s already got the door shut, and you imagine he’s climbing under the covers, blissfully unaffected by your presence. You can’t say the same. Knowing he’s less than fifty feet from you sends you spiraling. Flashbacks of pre-game cuddles grace the back of your eyelids, and you rub your temples furiously to get rid of the images. It doesn’t help. You want nothing more than to not be bothered by how much you miss seeing him. You miss the way his hands felt entangled with yours and how sweet his voice sounds in the morning. Being this hung up on a person so long after a relationship has ended can’t be healthy.

The baby monitor crackles, signaling the baby, and the only reason you haven’t fled, is once again awake. Linnea’s room is bright and cheerful; the perfect hideaway from Tyson. Sometime during your tenth reciting of Green Eggs and Ham Mel returns. She finds you upstairs and giddily sweeps up her child, missing her terribly even though she was only gone for a couple of hours.

“Did everything go okay?”

You nod. “She was a dream. The happiest baby I’ve ever seen. She might need to be changed soon though.”

Mel nods. “I saw Tyson’s car in the driveway, did he meet Gabe?”

“He’s actually asleep in the downstairs guest room,” you whisper, scared he’ll sense you’re talking about it, and by extension thinking about him, missing him.

“Oh. Shit.”

That’s the understatement of the year. “Yeah.” You quickly help put away the groceries before heading out, not wanting to disrupt the routine more so than you already had. Really though, you want to be as far away from the Landeskog’s as possible before Tyson wakes up. You’ll have to do a better job of avoiding him in the future, you decide on the way home. You’re heart can’t take seeing him this frequently – or at all.

♠♠♠♠

You would rather be anywhere than the Pepsi Center. It’s the first time you’ve been in the arena since breaking up with Tyson and you’re downright miserable. However, you promised your younger brother you’d take him to a game the next time he visited Denver with your parents and you aren’t about to break his heart. Ryan is borderline obsessed with the Avalanche and hockey in general. At eleven he’s showing significant promise and you know he works hard.

“Ry, slow down,” you huff, desperately trying to keep up with him. The kid is swaying through the throng of people at lightning speed, desperately trying to make it to your seats to catch warmup. Wanting to make the experience special for him, you purchased seats along the glass across from the Avs bench. Your brother halts, tapping his foot impatiently as you join him and match his stride.

Contrary to what Ryan thinks, your seats have not been stolen and warmup is just starting. His winter jacket is soon placed on the seat, revealing the too big jersey underneath. The number seventeen nearly sits at his elbow and the name-bar is askew because one side keeps slipping down, but your brother’s happy. He’s preoccupied with watching players do passing drills, hands pressed against the glass, and you allow yourself to look around. Virtually nothing has changed since the last time you were here. The banners are still the same, the energy electric. One small difference is your seating arrangement: the better halves’ box is no longer a luxury you have available to you. A quick glance in that direction confirms they’re enjoying themselves, laughing and no doubt in the midst of planning the next off-season wedding.

Ryan grips the hem of your sweater to get your attention. “Look Y/N,” he squeals, “Tys and J.T are coming over!” Sure enough, the two friends are making a beeline in your direction. Tyson waves and Ryan eagerly reciprocates. You’re reminded just how much he misses Tyson; they were the best of friends whenever they could get together. Another piece of your heart breaks in that moment, as you realize you aren’t the only hurting from the breakup.

“You’ve got him in the wrong jersey Y/N,” J.T smirks. “Think he’d look better with thirty-seven plastered all over.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll remember that Compher. You got the spare change lying around to buy him one?” There’s no malice in your voice; you truly miss joking around with him.

Tyson throws a puck high enough to clear the plexiglass. “Ry-Guy, catch!” It lands unceremoniously at Ryan’s feet, but he beams as he picks it up. The two boys share a makeshift fist bump and quickly catch up with each other. It’s been over a year since they’ve seen each other at this point, and Ryan has so much he wants to talk about. J.T tells a joke that makes the younger boy laugh, and Tyson turns his attention to you.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he says, doing his best to convey his sincerity. The energy of the area and the adrenaline have Tyson shaking slightly, and he rocks back onto his blades.

You study his facial features as you inhale. He’s still incredibly handsome, just slightly more defined, like he’s growing into himself. “Likewise,” you exhale. You know you shouldn’t lie but you can’t help it; for Ryan’s sake you need to pretend that seeing Tyson doesn’t make you want to curl into a ball and cry. He smiles sadly, like he knows you’re putting on a show. He probably does – you’ve never been good at hiding your emotions from him. Has been able to see how much you hurt every time you interact?

Ryan recaptures Tyson’s attention for a few final moments before he has to return to the locker room. With a high-five and a promise to call soon he skates away, leaving your brother to gush about his idol. The game goes better than you could have ever imagined; the Avs gain a landslide victory and Tyson gets a hatrick. After each goal he points in your direction and Ryan goes berserk. You catch yourself smiling, proud of his accomplishment, before you realize you won’t be at the celebratory afterparty. That isn’t your life anymore.

The traffic out of the arena is terrible, and Ryan’s asleep in the backseat before you hit the interstate. In some sort of daze you think about what you’d be doing with Tyson right now if you were still together. Maybe you’d be getting ready to make an appearance at a club to celebrate the big game, but it’s more likely you’d be pressed together on the couch, watching a nature documentary to unwind. It’s moments like that you miss most; where you were both too comfortable and enamored with each other to care about your social obligations. A single tear escapes and flows down your cheek. One turns into ten, and soon you’re sobbing over lost love.

♠♠♠♠

Tyson Jost isn’t someone you could ever stop loving. He’s the human equivalent of the sun, and even now your life revolves around him. It’s centered on missing him, sure, but that’s a part of him nonetheless. You can only hope it gets easier to deal with.

#tyson jost imagine #tyson jost x reader #tyson jost fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites

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bigskydreaming · 3 years ago

Text

Brain topic du jour is reflecting on the frankly weird as fuck pattern in Dick’s life where....he barely ever experiences losses one at a time. Most of the loss he’s experienced in his life is compounded by him losing multiple people and other elements of stability all at the exact same time.

1) When his parents died, in some continuities this is coupled with him losing his extended family of his aunt and cousin as well, with his uncle left comatose and on life support for years before he eventually died as well. Even in continuities without Richard, Karla and John, the loss of Dick’s parents is compounded by the additional loss of his circus family in the sense that he was taken away from them by the state and their constant reassuring presences in his life were no longer comforts he was able to rely on.

2) When Jason died, Dick didn’t just lose his brother, as the tragedy was compounded by Bruce’s reaction. I’ll never be able to gloss over the effects of NTT #55, personally, because I think its too key to Dick’s entire characterization and the specific direction his character took in the years that followed this, to like....disregard that Bruce however unintentionally, while lost in his own grief, added to Dick’s own sense of loss for Jason in probably the worst way possible. As by kicking Dick out and telling him to leave his keys, Dick - having no way to know or guess that they’d ever reconcile, just like he never actually went back to the circus being a regular presence for him - to Dick, this was in essence the equivalent of his childhood tragedy all over again. Losing not just one family member, but his whole family in one sweep, and all the comforts and stability offered by a home he was forced to leave. Even Dick’s contact with Alfred was minimal for awhile, because why would the guy who basically JUST saw history repeat itself and was like, well I know how THIS tends to play out.....why would he think that if Alfred felt forced to actually choose between his loyalties to Bruce and Dick respectively, that Alfred would pick Dick over the man he’d known and raised from childhood himself?

3) Titans Hunt. I know I harp on this one a lot, but you can’t deny that it fits the pattern. Dick didn’t just lose one friend and teammate.....he lost Joey, he lost a good four or five lesser known Titans who nevertheless were people he viewed as directly HIS responsibility to keep safe. With these tragedies compounded by the fact that though comics played out a lot more slowburn and extended stories over years back then, like.....the aftermath of Titans Hunt was still everpresent and directly died into Dick’s reactions and emotions during the Mirage storyline and everything that happened with the failed wedding and his breakup with Kory AND the fact that he was literally forced off the team he’d basically founded, by the government agency that took over the team and appointed Roy as its leader in his stead.

3) Graduation Day. The second time the Titans disbanded it was again not due to a singular loss, because Dick didn’t just lose Donna at this point, but also Lilith died in the exact same story and though Lilith is criminally underused, like, she’s also one of Dick’s oldest friends. She was literally the first Titan to join after the original five. This then led into the Outsiders era, where Dick was shown to still be reeling from the losses of this story for an extended period of time, and in a fun parallel to the Titans Hunt aftermath, Dick was also ousted from his leadership of THIS team by essentially a vote of no confidence by his teammates (and uh, Bruce too, literally).

4) The Blockbuster arc. Where Dick’s emotional state was due to a continued string of multiple losses. He lost his apartment building and almost every one of the neighbors he’d built a community out of, as we’d been shown him actively involving himself in their lives and vice versa for YEARS before this point. Then he lost his circus, his childhood home, burned to the ground and with dozens of deaths - both spectators and actual performers Dick had known and loved as a child. Then he lost his relationship with Barbara, his sense of self-security and autonomy to Tarantula, he lost another teen vigilante who died in his colors, the mantle HE’D created, when Stephanie was believed dead in War Games, and it all culminated in losing the city he’d invested himself in as his CHOSEN home, the place he dedicated himself to protecting, when Chemo blew it up.

Oh just for the record - my nonexistent passport to the magical kingdom of Narnia for a fic that raises the point when bringing up Tim’s losses in the Red Robin era, that like.....ALL of the above happened at literally the EXACT SAME TIME as all Tim’s referenced losses occurred. Obviously Steph meant more to Tim than Dick on a personal level, but I also included her largely as an anchor point to the timeline, to show how that death, and not long after that Jack Drake’s and then Superboy’s.... occurred right smack in the middle of one of the absolute WORST periods of Dick’s life. To be clear, I don’t intend this to suggest that no actually, Dick had it harder than Tim - nah.

No thank you. Hard pass. I hate that sort of thing even in support of my own faves over other characters. No, instead the thing I’d love to see explored more is just in light of the SPECIFIC angle fics take here - that Dick’s actions while Bruce was lost in time showed an obliviousness to everything Tim had lost lately - for literally ANYONE to bring up or introduce into the timeline here an awareness of everything Dick had lost AT THE EXACT SAME TIME PERIOD. To establish that actually, Dick didn’t just ‘not understand what it was like’ - rather, its more accurate to say that nobody in universe around this time ever shows an awareness of Dick’s own losses and says oh wait, that doesn’t track then.

Because obviously, with this stuff put in proper perspective, Dick understands VERY VERY WELL the exact thing we’re accusing him of not understanding by being oblivious to Tim’s losses that he’s not actually oblivious to because he tries to talk to Tim about them all the time, while meanwhile its everyone else who has absolutely mum to say about the fact that Dick’s emotional state is compromised to hell and back at this point, not JUST because of losing Bruce, but also because *gestures wildly* literally ALL OF THE ABOVE in the exact same time frame Tim’s extended losses happened in.

And okay I am going to indulge in slight tiny itty bitty pettiness and point out my ire that so many fics set during this time tend to recite listicles of Tim’s losses, with Steph, Kon and Jack Drake at the very top of said list....while paying no attention whatsoever to the fact that STEPH WAS LITERALLY BACK BY THE TIME THE RED ROBIN SERIES HAPPENED. She’s LITERALLY a person Dick sends to check up on Tim after Tim turns Dick away when he tries himself. How are you gonna stress the impact Steph’s loss has on Tim when you’re not even acknowledging STEPH’S RIGHT HERE IN THE EXACT SPECIFIC CANON STORY YOU’RE CITING??? I just. afhioskhflafhlafhklfahlfa.

And not to put too fine a point on it, but you know who ELSE was also back at the same time? CONNOR. Superboy LITERALLY was already back to life by the time the Red Robin series even began. Like, the issue where a resurrected Kon and Cassie (Wonder Girl) have a heart to heart about the fact that Tim and Cassie ‘connected’ during his absence and Connor stresses that this doesn’t bother him or make him feel negatively towards either of them at all, because hello, he was literally dead at the time, why would he mind that two of the people he loves most in the world sought comfort in each other? Yeah, that issue? Literally came out BEFORE Tim even became Red Robin.

I MEAN. I’m just saying, when people constantly take shots at Dick’s choices during this period because of how much Tim had lost before Bruce already, in order to shift focus away from the fact that Dick lost Bruce every bit as much as Tim did......and you repeatedly emphasize the SAME three names as the focal point of Tim’s losses while paying no acknowledgment whatsoever to everything Dick lost at the exact same time Tim lost these three.....it quickly becomes kiiiiiiinda relevant in my opinion THAT TWO OF THE THREE NAMES CONSTANTLY MENTIONED AS BEING TIM’S LOSSES ARE NO LONGER EVEN LOST BY THE TIME THE SUBJECT COMES UP. Again, I’m just saying! Pettily, mind you! I am aware of the pettiness, I just beg awareness of like *again gesticulates wildly at all of the above* ALL THAT!

LOL.

But I digress.

5) When Bruce was believed dead while he was lost in the timestream. Again, Dick didn’t just lose the father who had been the only parent in his life for almost TWICE as long as his first parents......this was coupled with the loss of numerous other sources of stability in Dick’s life. There’s the matter of his personal sense of identity and self-expression....Dick FOUGHT against becoming Batman, trying to handle Gotham in Bruce’s absence as Nightwing for as long as he could, because he knew being Batman was very much NOT going to be good for him. He put so much of himself into building his identity as Nightwing, establishing himself in that role, that self-image, that yes, I maintain it was an actual LOSS for Dick, to feel like he had no choice but to give that up and everything it meant to him and his own life, in order to essentially live Bruce’s life for him in his absence.

Because it wasn’t just being Batman that Dick was struggling with at this time....he also had to act as the patriarch to the Wayne family, essentially raise Bruce’s ten year old son, step into Bruce’s old role in Wayne Enterprises, all while getting no acknowledgment for any of this, for literally LIVING his father’s life instead of the life Dick had worked so hard to build for HIMSELF....because of course Dick’s actions and struggles couldn’t even be advertised beyond the family and close friends, because the whole point of him doing all this was so that nobody else even realized that Bruce wasn’t really there anymore. Dick didn’t just assume Bruce’s responsibilities. Dick assumed Bruce’s life, so thoroughly that most people didn’t even put together that Bruce was ‘dead,’ between Dick handling Bruce’s actual roles and responsibilities while Hush made public appearances as him.

Like, when you’re living someone else’s life so completely that nobody can tell they’re even gone....how on earth does that leave any time or space for you to have ANY kind of life of your OWN, y’know? Not to mention the fact that like in so many times previously....all this meant that Dick couldn’t even afford to let his grief for his own losses show, because he wasn’t supposed to be grieving any losses in the first place, that was the whole point of the con!

Additionally, couple this with the fact that throughout this time period, Dick didn’t have Tim to lean on at all, because it was never that Dick kicked Tim out or neglected him or didn’t care....he’d actively stressed how much he needed Tim, because the partner Tim was convinced Dick chose ‘over’ him - Dick was the first one to admit back then that he DIDN’T trust Damian yet, couldn’t afford to, because he was all too aware that Damian didn’t give a fuck about him yet and couldn’t be guaranteed to step in to have Dick’s back - because that required mutual trust that Dick literally just hadn’t had time to build yet. And add to THAT the fact that during this time, Jason was actively antagonizing the family and Dick in particular at every turn, trying to bring them all down and basically write over what all of them saw as Bruce’s legacy with Jason’s own version of what he thought that should look like.

Also also, take into account that unlike how often we see fanon depict Dick as just too stubborn or proud to ask for help, there’s the fact that he actually had very few avenues TO ask for help! As already established, he DID ask Tim for help. Not like Jason was an option at this time, and Dick’s friends weren’t actually just sitting waiting in the wings and groaning about the fact that Dick was trying to do all of this solo....nah, they kinda had their own problems, which Dick was all too aware of?

Like the fact that in the wake of Final Crisis, it wasn’t just Bruce that was believed lost. Many other key Leaguers like Martian Manhunter were dead or lost, with others struggling to fill the gaps left in their absence. Cry For Justice happened right after Final Crisis too....that story where Lian was murdered? So it wasn’t like Dick was remotely going to try leaning on Roy when Roy had just lost his freaking DAUGHTER and very much wasn’t handling it well (and not to overshadow Roy’s loss at ALL, but please let’s not act like Dick - who had literally been the person to put a baby Lian in Roy’s arms for the first time and had known that girl for pretty much her entire life - like, it shouldn’t be used to detract from Roy’s loss at all, but it shouldn’t have to, to just acknowledge that Lian’s loss right at this exact time was painful as fuck to Dick, who’d loved his niece like crazy.)

The pattern of compounding, concurrent losses in Dick’s life. I’m just saying. Its there.

And it extends into the New 52 as well, where Forever Evil came right on the heels of Dick losing his circus in THIS continuity to the Joker, just as a way to hurt him in Death of A Family. And with the aftermath of Forever Evil and Dick’s own literal death, being like....the complete loss of Dick’s entire life, even though he was revived quickly. That didn’t mean he got to live HIS life though, since Dick Grayson was believed dead and he was told had to remain so, so its like fuck whatever he actually wanted to do as he went about on the Spyral mission aka something that pinched his own sense of morality and personal agenda at every turn and was kinda the last thing a therapist would recommend for a trauma recovery period, lol. And like, for all the focus that was paid to how Dick’s family were hurt because they believed they’d lost him when he was actually alive, let’s not forget that for all intents and purposes, Dick DID lose his family in the wake of his resurrection because he was flat out told over and over that due to what ‘he’d LET happen to him’ he was an ACTIVE danger to them, and thus wasn’t allowed by Bruce to contact any of them or lean on them to any degree, until Bruce got amnesia and stopped blocking Dick’s pleas to return home by just not being there to pick up the secret phone line at all.

(And omg, the obliviousness that just EMANATES off the hot takes that Dick had a ‘choice’ in all this and he still CHOSE to do what Bruce told him....like. LOLOL, stop being pissy about me bringing up the term abuse apologism when its literal victim blaming to paint the guy who had to be beaten into ‘agreeing’ to the Spyral mission in the immediate wake of the trauma of DYING, all while his father vocally blamed him for his own suffering and the ‘threat’ he now posed to his family, keying directly into the guilt complex Bruce knows damn well is at the core of most of Dick’s motivations.....fucking please. There’s no choice in all that. That’s active emotional, mental and physical abuse aimed at directly manipulating Dick’s actions, delivered by the guy who knows Dick best in the world and whose approval - particularly when Dick is at absolute rock bottom aka Current Location - matters more to Dick than just about anything because his sense of self-worth has more in common with dog shit than actual dog shit does. Or something. Idk. That analogy got away from me. But like. You get it.)

BUT. I. DIE. GRESS. (I guess).

Aaaaaaanyway, so yeah! That repeating pattern throughout Dick’s life of ‘loss? What loss (singular)? My losses only come in groups, lolol, fuuuuuun’ - mmmm. Yeah. So that’s what’s on MY brain right now. Thoughts?

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percontaion-points · 1 year ago

Text

Court chapters 48-51

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 48

So I do, more than a little surprised that I haven’t done so already. And that’s when hell really breaks loose.

Chapter 48 summary: Hudson is naturally worried that if Grace touches the string that ties Cyrus to the gargoyles, that Grace will be poisoned. The bloodletter says that Grace has been poisoned since she was conceived… but it’s only her demigod bloodline that’s keeping her alive from it. And also the reason why Cyrus’s bite didn’t kill her.

As the three of them go to do this, the bloodletter tells them that she’s stopped time EVERYWHERE so that Grace can do this. But Hudson standing around and asking more questions is wasting time.

So Grace starts to try and connect with them. After the second attempt, Alistair mentally joins her, and keeps yelling out encouragement. And I think that my long-time followers know what I’m going to say about this endless scene: I don’t mind it, but it goes on for way too long. We’re on page ~260 of 949! Brevity is the soul of wit, and I don’t think the author has ever learned that.

Chapter 49

“Any closer and I’d have had an icicle through some things that icicles should never, ever go through.”

I think the author was aiming for indicating Flint’s penis, but like… Icicles should probably never go through ANY part of your body.

“Then again, you and I rarely see eye to eye on anything, do we, Cassia?”

Chapter 49 summary: In her mental struggle to connect with the gargoyles, Grace touched the green demigod string inside of her. When she released it at the end of the previous chapter, the world violently shook. This chapter was everybody dodging the rocks and ice that Grace accidentally sent scattering.

After the world calmed down, the bloodletter fixed everything with her powers, so it’s like it never happened.

Chapter 50

Surprise registers in the Historian’s eyes, followed quickly by annoyance. And then he snaps his fingers. And Hudson disappears.

Chapter 50 summary: Randomly, this guy shows up in the bloodletter’s cave. For the first time in three books, we get her name, which is Cassia. This dude's name is Jikan, and he has pierced nipples. (A fact that the narration reminded us of TWICE.) He is literally the god of time, and he is there to fix Grace’s “latest mess”. It takes way too long to get to this singular point, but what else is new in this book? When Hudson insists that he’s going with Grace, Jikan makes him disappear.

Chapter 51

The Historian grins, and somehow it’s even scarier-looking than his frown. “You’ll see.”

Chapter 51 summary: Grace threatens to touch her green demigod string again if Jikan won’t bring Hudson back. So he does.

He then pulls out some knitting needles and proceeds to knit strands of time together. While listening to a One Direction song. However, it’s only the chorus over and over. So even Grace is annoyed by it by the time he’s finished.

However, Grace is one of three people who can see the finished product, and all of her friends are baffled by the entire thing. Jikan warns her that she shouldn’t touch it, or else they’ll get broken again. And then he kind of pizza-tosses it up into the air, and tells them to wait and see.

#Crave series #Court (Crave 4)#chapter 48 #chapter 49 #Chapter 50 #Chapter 51 #Hudson Vega #Grace (Crave)#the bloodletter #Alistair (Crave)#Flint (Crave)#use your words #plot? what plot?#brevity is the soul of wit

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staylavendertea · 3 years ago

Text

music, ya know

this is a complete impulse of lying in bed middle of the night thoughts that i don’t even know if anyone’s gonna see that have been stemmed off the experiences of the past couple days, topic of 1:41 am mind boggle:

music and it’s aesthetic and importance in literal every sense cause it’s just that important to me

first experience of realizing this, i’ve always loved film scores and listening to music and the orchestral pieces from movies and shows, but it really seemed to hit me recently, like the fact that this week’s new LOKI episode, no spoilers, has the most badass score and a badass scene with such a perfect mix and musical atmosphere. i literally had one of my best friends over, who has a very small interest in comics, cinema, marvel in general, especially a show about a norse comic god that they know nothing about, and whilst they sat there for my own regard, watching the show like a normal human being would, i sat there clinching their hand, watching in awe as our music is louder than actors talking tv speakers spurted out the most spine tightening world building story and just wandered “jesus that was good” and whilst i will always think about the superior acting, cgi, the amount of different people that just went into those few scenes and like what was physical set and what was computer image and what the hell did i just watch that has my brain running olympic marathon circles right now?

the thought that said brain kept going back to was that fucking score. it was literally tearing apart of every corner of my head and why was it doing that?

second experience, another marvel one, but i digress. black widow (no spoilers i promise), thursday night, movie theater for the first time in i can’t even remember how long now and we set through so many previews just for fucking boss baby to start playing and the reaction of the theater to make me burst out laughing.

however whatever works in that little projection box, gets fixed and the movie is pushed to just a little before it starts, a nice small pepsi ad, the regal rollercoaster intro (if you go to regal movie theaters ya know what i’m talking about), and then i hear it - the marvel studios logo - something so musically engraved into my head that my ass that can’t sing for anything, can harmonize with the sound and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up around movie theater surround sound. but i can’t think of that now, i’m here to watch black widow, a movie on hiatus with the rest of the world for so long now, a character i didn’t know much about it or truly, didn’t have the most connection with in the first place. yet through that one movie, i seemed to build one of those.

ofc though scarlett johansson’s beautiful acting and world building, but it isn’t until the end of the movie that i even realize why. it was the fucking score again. when i think about it, the beginning of the movie felt like all of black widows scenes in the avengers movies for me, kinda just, there. not really emotionally tugging, not bad ofc either, but just, there. in the present, watching something cool in motion. but then it hits, what i can only describe as a theme that somehow tells the entire black widow movie in one singular composition. something so badass, story telling, but also just singularly black widow-esk. i can tell you that i walked out the movie theater rambling about the composition and looking up composers.

third experience, the most recent as it was literally like 20 minutes ago and sprung one train rail of a thought process that immediately tugged me into typing this brain vomit into a tumblr post. i have playlists. for everything. and when i say everything, i fucking mean everything. i’m a writer and a reader, i have playlists mostly for the young avengers, my most utter comfort characters, and their stories i’m writing. i also have playlists/genre/specific song for about every book i read.

when i read red white and royal blue when that came out, i noticed i listened to one of the drunks by panic at the disco the entirety of the ending of the book and the words and music fit together like puzzle pieces, not only did it make the reading experience better, but i was so fucking emerged in my over hyper-imagitive brain that when i finally actually finished the book, i still never left. rewind present day to the beginning of this past june, one last stop comes out, ofc i get it the day it comes out with my anticipation building like wildfire. i start reading that night and i put on my recents on my liked songs playlist (true to true spotify user) and i slowly over the next day as i read and finish the book, windle down to the genre, then the band, to the album, to the exact song that feels like the carbon copy of the words i’m reading. that song was only ones who know by the arctic monkeys. now go back to this past week, anyone who reads the carry on series knows, anyway the wind blows came out this past tuesday. i waited till wednesday to buy the ✨pretty special addition barnes and nobles copy✨ so that the dear friend that indulged me by watching loki that same day could buy it at the same time and make a cute book date or whateva. i started reading that night and something just felt ,,, off. i didn’t know what it was, but i was living off the pure joy that simon and co give me so i ignored the feeling. until i realized why it felt off this morning. i wasn’t listening to any fucking music, literally nothing, not even queen. motherfucking. queen.

i looked for the snowbaz playlist i made when i read carry on for the first time back in 2016/2017 when i was still a freshman in high school just to remember i deleted that literally forever ago. so i made a new one. like an hour and a half ago. very inspired on how i made the playlists for the young avengers and all their stories. letting the music talk.

the fact that all these rambling thoughts have led to this conclusion makes my head hurt, but for me at least in my own experiences. music talks. a two way conversation. a radio broadcast, turning the peg until you match the same frequency thats being put out and you can hear it and understand it. it’s like when you see comedians on stages or actors on panels, they talk, you have reactions, you talk back, and so forth the loop continues until the last voice, last note, rings out. music and songs and orchestral pieces and bands and composers and lyric writers are telling you the stories in reverse. they don’t know their doing it, obviously they meant something entirely different in their creations, but it’s like literature and any work of words and storytelling. interpretation. to me, the notes, pianos, violins, guitars, drums, singers, cellos, and anything that can make sound you can think of, is telling you something. whispering in your ear as you watch or read. facial features, emotions the characters dont say out loud, outfits, they way their standing or talking or moving or interacting with anything and everything.

when i just made that carry on playlist, i played it, decided to try read some good almost 2 am fan fic as you do, my hanging on by a thread sleep brain telling me words aren’t recognizable right now, and tighten myself into a blanket to see if i can sleep at all. the playlist still plays and my never shuts up head thinks it’s own daydreams, stresses out about anything it can, that is until the song plays. the one that just speaks the carry on trilogy language. the one that i found whilst i was reading wayward son and then would play whenever i re read carry on. the one that started this whole way too long ass post in the first place. cant be alone tonight by atlas. i heard just the first sound and i saw them, as if i were in the same room, like i never even put the book down in the first damn place because i’m actually terrified of finishing it. i could see simon in his oversized hoodies, baz in an outfit that was way too good just to be sitting inside, agatha looking as pleasantly pretty as ever, penelope poking fun at shepherd, and shepherd poking fun right back; bickering, laughing, saying the dialogues i try to remember so i can write them later, existing.

in a way music doesn’t just talk, but it lives. it lives and breaths. a three way conversation you could say. characters, stories, plot, and settings talk to the music, then the music delivers us listeners the message, so that we can send one back. this literally took me over an hour to write and i should point the important note that i do have synesthesia where colors and sounds and colors and words do the association so this entire thing might be me being entirely biased, but alas, i love sound so much and if there is anyone else that feels the same ways as i do as just a simple good film score and song makes anything ten times better, feel free to talk, i will totally be awkward, but i need some music freaks like myself around so feel free to hit me up, also if you love movies and cinema also feel free to hit me up as i need movie buddies and now it’s 3 am and i will be going to bed - peace out 🛸

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petrykos · 3 years ago

Text

from on high

𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐚, 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐨𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐟𝐟'𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 either as she had been missing as long as she had been on the archipelago. To rip the relic from the shaman's arm ( literally ), the thought makes her hands curl into fists, suppressing the shiver that came with the mental image of the relic being fused with her arm. She hadn't an idea of why the Argathans would need use of this, but it reeked of power imbalance, no matter her feelings on special weapons like relics. Her eyes close briefly and she exhales. In all due time, they would find their answers, hopefully.

"Laelaps," Petra begins. "Why are you a dog? Would it not have more easiness on you to be sneaking as a cat?"

"Don't like them," he says flatly. "I've never seen a cat do anything remotely impressive.

"The other thing is that it's harder to transform into than a dog. When it comes to transformation magic, the less you have to change, the better. And when it comes to animals, I've found that the closer in size you are to what you're changing into, the less exhausting it is to transform. If I was a cat for the rest of this run, you'd have to carry me back." Laelaps' mouth opens in a doggy smile, his tail wagging mirthfully. "And trust me, I'm not going to be a cute little 10 pound bag of meat when that happens."

She falls silent, mulling over his reasons. She disagrees, cats could jump quite high and were good hunters for mice around the monastery. The task of carrying him in his cat form is due to his laziness rather than the form, she thinks, but doesn't criticize. Dogs were obedient; there were some back on Brigid and plenty around the monastery like this, so she leaves him to be whatever form he pleases.

The group is lead to a wall with a metallic plate sectioned off and a slit down its center, resembling doors. When they step inside, it is a small boxed room. The door closes behind them and the box begins moving with a soft whirring sound, mostly masked by the odd music drumming inside. It moved slow enough to not startle its passengers, but Petra still places a hand on the side to steady herself. If it wasn't the blurred reflection of the group she looked at, the red splatter in the corner held her interest plenty. Blood? Dried, fresh? A breath hitches in her throat and her foot shifts forward slightly as if to investigate it, but Nessie cuts in, "Don't worry about it." Petra can only nod, swallowing the thick air in this... al- no, el-ah-vay-ter, she thinks that's what Laelaps called it anyhow.

When the box comes to a halt, it dips down ever so slightly and the doors roll open. They exit the strange box and pass through a door into a balcony secured and sealed by glass. Ocher hues stare down, watching the people—Argathans—carry on about their business. They were strange looking creatures, pale, almost ghostly with dark, black eyes that were seemingly soulless on first glance. Despite the barrier, their voices could be heard from the height, albeit a little muffled:

“Thyestes can take their '2000 nepenthe tesserae on the double!' and shove it up their–” “Of course... *sigh*, there's no helping her. Stultitia's singular braincell is the hardest working thing in all of Shambhala.”

Turning back to the group, Petra points down at them. "What is nepenthe tesserae?" she asks, taking her time on the foreign words leaving her, sounding through each syllable the way she heard it. "And this... Stultitia person... She sounds like someone we need to be finding. She has importance, it seems."

"Stultitia? Her head's all mold and fluff. Though to be honest, she stabbed me once..." Nessie begins, pausing with a sheepish chuckle. If she could scratch the back of her head without injuring herself, she probably would. "O-of course, it was all her fault..."

Petra tilts her head and brows furrow. Mold? Fluff? Stab? In her head, three images come up: a slice of moldy bread, cotton stuffing from a toy, and a dagger. Before she can ask, Laelaps joins in, the fur between his eyes and eyebrow whiskers crinkle.

"Nepenthe tesserae... Something with memories... Whatever that's for, I'm not involved in. I'm assigned to the surface–most of these guys are stuck below working on whatever fever dream Thales cooked up."

Next: @prhyst & @little-miss-manakete

#prhyst #little miss manakete #support: rhys #support: nah #thread: from on high #unlockedsouthleicester2021 #toaunlocked2021 #(( god sorry it's so long sdlkgjfs there was a lot- ))

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archester-creations · 3 years ago

Text

@omegaverse-sfw-week day three part two of two: modern (this is still a long one, lads)

June 21st

He was going to die and it was the fault of some idiot he'd never talked to face to face . Some idiot he’d only even seen through glances and this singular picture. It's not the first time he's ever seen someone in a dress. Sky wore dresses. Velvet wore dresses sometimes. His ma wore dresses occasionally. Russel’s mamma wore dresses. Even Russel had worn a dress once or twice. But he'd never realized a dress could look this good on somebody. Even though it looked a bit wonky. There seemed to possibly be a seam out near his thigh. And one of the sleeves was a little rough. But.

Jaune looked handsome . And it was doing things to him. Like he’d done days ago, Cardin lifted a hand to his cheek. It felt feverish. Then he noticed his shoulder was actually red. Another full body blush. A dress had pulled a full body blush from him. He’d never reacted this way to something like that before. The worst thing (best thing?) was, he knew why. It was Jaune. He-

He really liked Jaune. Badly, it seemed. Definitely worse than he’d thought.

You might want some water with this |

[image sent] |

How do i look? |

| It’s good.

| You look handsome.

Thats it? |

Just handsome? |

Didnt make you blush all over or something? |

| Uh. Well.

Cardin did something impulsive. Which was not the first time. At least not where it concerned Jaune. There just seemed to be something about him that drew it out of him. He took a picture of his face and sent it before he could really get a look at it. But boy did he look once it sent.

Once again, Cardin found himself wishing he could just… delete messages as he waited for Jaune’s reply. The camera had gotten his face as well as the top half of his t-shirt and everything in between. And every single inch of skin that showed was bright red. Probably the deepest blush ever caught on camera. Stoplights could be made with his skin right now. It was like his hair colour slid down his hairline, covered his ears, and traveled into the collar of his shirt. The freckles on his shoulders stood out against the red as if to draw attention to it. As if the shade of pure red on his pale skin wasn’t eye catching enough.To make it even worse, he wasn’t quite looking at the camera. No, he’d been looking away slightly. With everything else it made him look shy . Which he kinda was, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that it’d been caught on camera. He’d caught it on camera. And sent it to Jaune. Jaune who still hadn’t replied and at this point Cardin not only didn’t know how long it’d been but also didn’t really want to know how long because he was kinda terrified. Being terrified didn’t stop his phone from pinging, though. Jaune’s name made the screen light back up. Because it’d at least been long enough for it to time out.

That |

That much |

Huh? |

Um thats |

Im glad you liked it |

Maybe ill |

Let saph use me as a model sometimes |

So i can send you pictures |

If itll let me see you embarrassed like that |

Did Cardin…

Did he embarrass Jaune back? An incredulous laugh feel from his mouth, because he definitely did. That was embarrassment.

| So you do get embarrassed.

CAN YOU BLAME ME?! |

I MADE A HOT GUY TURN INTO A FIRE ENGINE |

YOU LITERALLY FULL BODY BLUSHED |

I DIDNT EVEN KNOW THAT COULD HAPPEN IN REAL LIFE |

| It’s your fault!

| You asked!

| I hope you’re happy.

FUCK yeah i am |

Youre so fucking cute |

Ruby has a red cape and i wanna compare colours |

Just to see which is more red |

Youre fucking adorable |

| Absolutely not.

| No one else can see that.

You mean its alllll just for me?? |

Cardin dear you shouldnt have |

This is the nicest present ive ever recieved and its not even my birthday yet |

Thank you |

| Mn

| I’m going to go to work now.

Hahah alright |

<3 |

June 24th

So despite my rousing success |

Im switching to childcare |

Dont worry i have asked saph and she will let me model for her again |

Buuuuuut |

I dont think fashion is really cutting it and nora suggested doing childcare with her |

Since shes already majoring in it |

| The friend you said once shoved thirty marshmellows in her mouth?

| The one who’d get along with Russel and Sky and would probably cause a small nation to fall?

Yep! |

| That’s good.

| You’ve mentioned before she likes kids.

| I’m glad she’s getting to do this.

Me too!! |

We have our first class in two days!! |

I’m excited!! |

| I see that.

| I’m happy you’re excited too.

Aw thanks <3 |

I am too |

June 26th

Theyre starting us with med stuff!! |

Im actually learning hands on how to do cpr!! |

| You’re having fun?

I am!! |

Im glad they started with this |

They said it was important to know first |

Just encase an emergency happens |

| That seems smart

Yeah |

July 6th

They make this |

So much harder |

Than it REALLY has any right to be |

| Childcare?

Yes!! |

Im convinced half this stuff is unneccessary |

Like |

I dont know im not a professional |

Or a teacher |

But ive watched my nephew before |

And i swear its never been this complicated |

| Maybe because it’s more kids?

Probably |

And they wanna be sure we dont fuck it up |

Cause that could be |

Like |

Immensiley fucking bad |

But brothers fuck |

Its so much |

I dont know how noras keeping up with it all |

She is though |

| Proud of her?

Yeah |

Shes really enjoying it |

Its nice to see even if im not sure about sticking around |

August 15th

| Did you check out the entire cookbook section?

I switched majors |

To uh |

Cooking |

My oldest sister is helping me |

Though right now were baking |

Apparently cooking-cooking will come later? |

I dont know |

If i manage a good batch of cookies im gonna drop them in the bookdrop |

Only for you though |

No sharing |

| No sharing at all?

| My brother won't like that.

I guess you can share them with him |

| Oh? What made you change your mind?

Why did Cardin suddenly feel like he dug his own grave?

Have to get in good with your family |

If I want to get in your pants |

That's why. He rolled his eyes, willing away the sudden heat and double rhythm his heart decided to pick up. No, bad body.

| If they're good enough you might just get in his.

I guess i gotta make sure theyre not too good then |

Because youre the only one i want |

;) |

August 27th

| How is cooking going?

Haha not great |

I left actually |

Though i do think i got better at cooking |

Im in theater now |

| Do you like it better?

Yeah |

Its pretty good |

Cardin didn't really believe that, but he couldn't pinpoint a reason why. Not that Jaune didn't like it better. But he didn't… seem that excited? Though Cardin knew from Sky that sometimes college included a lot of major shuffling.

| Are you practicing for a play yet?

Not yet |

Right now its mostly technical stuff |

Voice work and body language |

My one sister is helping me with it |

She says im doing good but im not sure i believe her |

You're pretty enough to be on stage . Cardin quickly backspaced. Definitely not. They'd only been texting… He thumbed up to the top of their conversation, where he found the word ‘May’. He blinked. It was August. They'd been talking for… four months? That didn't feel right. Quickly he checked his calendar, only to confirm that he was right. Four months had passed since Jaune left the first note. It simultaneously felt like a lot and nothing at all.

Four months and Jaune had changed his major sixteen times. Not even Sky had done it that much. Even with the changing majors, Cardin still checked in medical books from him. But he never talked about going into the field, though he had to be passionate about it in at least some way. You don't check in that many books about something you don't like.

Finally, it clicked. Why this change sounded so odd. It was because it sounded like Jaune was hiding something. Not that he had to tell Cardin everything, but. There was something else Jaune wanted to say. And he wasn't. So, Cardin decided he'd try to… get him to talk about it. He knows it's what Velvet would do. That, and… Cardin found himself genuinely wanting to know. It actually bothered him that Jaune was hiding something from him when it really seemed to bother him.

| You switch majors a lot.

I dont |

| You’ve switched sixteen times in the five months we've been talking.

You counted? |

And im still |

Figuring it out |

| Jaune. You can… talk to me, you know. Whatever it is I won't judge. I'm not really in a place to, you know I skipped the whole college thing to work here.

| I can just. Listen. Whatever it is, whenever you want. You know when I wake up.

I |

Thank you |

Its just |

Hard |

I have all these people |

Just |

/pushing/ me and /pulling/ me in so many directions |

‘You should do theater, its fun and youll make great friends!’ |

‘Id love it if my baby brother could cook with me. we could get a job together!’ |

‘Psychology is cool. maybe you could consider that. im emo about it.’ |

That one had him snort. It wasn't the first time he'd talked about that friend. Normally he was nicer about her. He recognized this style of texting, though. Jaune was upset and it brought out a more sarcastic side of him, one that sometimes had an edge. And it looked like this was one of those ‘sometimes’. It also meant it was something Jaune really had to get out. From what Cardin had learned, Jaune tended to internalize a lot of his more negative feelings until they sort of… burst. Which was something he could relate with. Though, Jaune’s bursts seemed to be sharp words while his translated to time with a punching bag.

‘Kids are really cool!!! You should do childcare!!! And then we can open a daycare together!!! And we'd watch over hundreds of kids for hours and hours!!!’ |

‘You were always such a good dancer as a kid, you should go into that like denise’ |

‘Have you thought about black smithing its sO COOL LOOK AT THIS AWESOME FUCKING SWORD I MADE FOR NO OUM DAMN REASON’ |

‘GEE JAUNE I REALLY THINK YOU SHOULD DO THIS INSTEAD OF WHATEVER IT IS YOUNWANNA DO BECAUSE WHO GIBES A FUCJ ABOUT THAY YOUR MEDICAL SHITNIS WEIRD ANYONE NOBODY FUCKING CARES THAG YOU WANT TO HEAL PEOPLE AND MAYBE BECOME A PAREMEDIC OR SOME SHIT FUCK THAY YOU TRY ONE OF THESE HUNDREDS KF LTHER MAJORS THAY YOU REALLY COULDNT GIBE A SHIT ABOUT AND MAKE YOU TIEED OR YOU HATE BECAUSE WE THINK THEYRE A THOUSAND TIMES COOLER AND WE KNOW YOURE A FUCKING PUSHOBER WHO WONT FUCKING JUST DUCKING SAY NO LIKE A FUCKING NORMAL OUM DAMN PERSON |

I JUST WANNA FUCKING |

DO MY OWN SHIT |

I HAVE PLANS |

I HAVE PASSIONS |

I AM NOT JUST SOME BARBIE DOLL CAREER COLLECTING BITCH |

IM A PERSON |

FUCK |

Cardin blinked. That. Was a lot.

Oum |

Fuck |

Im sorry |

I guess i had |

More pent up than i thought |

| It's okay. I told you you could rant.

What youre saying is i had consent |

Cardin rolled his eyes.

| Yes, Arc, you had consent.

| So you want to be a paramedic?

I |

Yeah |

I really think id like to be |

But i dont want to disappoint everybody else you know? |

My mom wanted me to do music because i like to play the guitar and my oldest sister wanted me to do culinary because thats what she did and my dad wanted me to do dance because all us kids did dance and only del stuck with it and blake wanted me to do psychology for reasons i don't even think i want to know and ruby wanted me to do blacksmithing so i could make shit with her and yang agreed and its all just so much but i dont want to disappoint any of them because if i did |

If i did |

| If you did?

What if they |

Hated me |

For it |

Or stopped being my friend because i just |

Didnt want to do their favourite thing |

| Not everybody can devote their life to the same thing. And if they leave you for that, they weren't really worth you.

That seems harsh |

| It's true.

| They shouldn't be so hung up on what makes them happy that they'd hate you for not getting the same joy. If you're friends with them, I think they'd agree.

… |

And if they are? |

| Then they're wrong.

You sound like marion and i think i hate it |

Ill… talk to marion about it |

| I believe in you.

Atleast one of us does |

For a while after that there were no texts. No notes in books. As far as Cardin knew, there weren’t even returns to the library. If there were, they happened after his morning shift ended at one. It… worried Cardin. He'd been getting along well with Jaune. Or at least, he thought he was. The other boy joked with him. Sent him stuff about his day. Even flirted with him sometimes. (Cardin never really knew how to respond to those past turning red and hiding his phone to give himself a moment to calm.) They talked all the time . Not even a day went by where they didn’t anymore. The radio silence was really getting to him.

There wasn't anything in their last texts that Cardin thought he did to make Jaune apparently avoid him. Unless he been that embarrassed about ranting.

Or….

Or something happened to Jaune.

If something did, nobody would know to text him. He wouldn't find out for months or ever , depending on how bad it was. Instead he'd always live in this nebulous space of hoping Jaune would text. A Shrodnyrs box that doesn't even have the option to be opened. Maybe it wasn't too late to text him. His parents or Marion might still have his phone and might be kind enough to at least let him know Jaune was… gone. Unless he was ignoring him and had blocked his number. Or both happened. He'd been ignoring him, had blocked his number, and something terrible happened to him sometime after. And he’d never know.

Cardin put his phone down so he'd stop fiddling with it and messed with his sleeve instead. He didn't try texting Jaune.

September 8th

His phone pinged and he scrambled for it the same way he had every other time despite expecting it to be Velvet or Jaune or someone. Except it wasn't. ‘Green hoodie’ was on his screen for a moment before it timed out and Cardin pressed the power button to get it to show again so he'd know he wasn't just seeing things. Seeing it show a second time was like a breath of fresh air. A weight he hadn't really felt lifted from his chest. Now he could actually breathe clearly. Jaune hadn’t been hurt nor had he been avoiding him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly before he unlocked his phone to respond.

Sorry ive been gone!!! |

I've wanted to text you so fucking badly but ive been so busy |

There was so much to do |

But im in med school now!! |

Im gonna do it!!! |

Im actually gonna be a paramedic!!! |

| I'm proud of you

:D !!!! |

Thank you!!! |

So so so fucking much!!! |

| Why?

I wouldnt have talked with marion without you and then i never wouldve done this |

I wouldve just continued jumping majors until i could force myself to be happy with what someone else wanted me to do |

| Oh.

| You're welcome, then.

| I'm glad you didn't do that. It's nicer seeing you happy like this over a major, instead of mopey.

I wasnt mopey!! |

>:( |

| You were.

>>>>>:( |

If im mopey youre a bitch |

| Woof.

Ajskdjsks |

Seriously thank you cardin |

I wouldnt be doing this if you hadnt noticed something was wrong |

And let me rant |

Heat rose to his cheeks and down under his collar. Despite being alone, Cardin looked around the room just to make sure. The relief he'd felt when Jaune's contact name was still palpable and he let himself relax. The heat settled on his cheeks and his ears and the back of his neck and he let it. Jaune was fine. He hadn't died, hadn't been hurt (probably), hadn't been purposely ignoring him. And he'd sincerely thanked him.

| You're welcome.

He popped his knuckles, staring at his phone. He really wanted to say something. Mention about being worried. Hating the radio silence. Back when he was young, Russel had told him it was better to get that stuff out. Especially when it was someone you cared about. And. He really cared about Jaune. Taking a deep breath, he typed another message.

| You were gone for a real long time.

| I didn't like not knowing what was going on.

| Or if you were okay.

| I'm glad you are.

| Okay.

| I’m really glad you’re okay.

You were worried about me? |

| I missed you.

I missed you too cardin |

It was quiet without you |

| You don't hear my voice.

No but i hear your text tone |

And ive heard you speak to yourself at the library before |

| I don't do that.

And it doesnt really have to do with the amount of sound |

Knowing youre there and talking to me willingly is its own form of noise |

I missed it when it was gone |

I missed /you/ when it was gone |

| You could've texted me.

There was so much to do i only had the time early mornings and even then i was either half asleep or fully asleep |

| I wouldn't mind your half asleep early morning texts

I wouldnt mind yours either |

| Now you're just repeating me.

Its true! |

You couldve texted me too |

| I was worried you'd blocked me. Or something… bad happened. I'd rather I didn't find out either way.

Im fine |

Not even scratched |

Just a little more tired than usual |

And id never block you |

I like you too much |

| It was quiet without you too.

What? |

| Without you. It was quiet. Moreso than it usually is, even with Velv and Russ and Sky.

Oh |

Now whos repeating? |

| Shut up Arc.

Im glad you missed me |

And im happy to be back |

| Yeah.

| I'm happy you're back, too.

And he really was. Especially if the way he felt the earlier blush tingling down to his fingertips and toes meant anything. It was a lighter feeling than he’d felt before. Happy and fond and content. It was a feeling he wanted to relish in. Like a giant blanket. Like the one Sky had made so he could curl up with Russel and Dove, all three under the same blanket. He smiled, feeling warm.

September 9th

‘ Will you go out with me? ’ The sentence he found on a bookmark in a juvenile nonfic book on astronomy made his throat turn dry. Heat invaded his face. He could feel it blossom along his ears and melt all down his chest like candle wax. If he was the candle, Jaune's messy scrawl was the flame. Less conspicuously than he'd liked, he looked through the opaque plastic to be sure Jaune had left. Only when he discovered he had did it feel like he breathed. At least the other boy hadn't seen his physical reaction. He opened the page drawer to get his water bottle and fumbled his way to Jaune’s contact, double checking no one was in the lobby or the backroom with him as he went.

| You have my phone number. You know where I work

I know |

But this seemed more romantic |

Since this is what led to me knowing you |

And Cardin had to actually pause to consider that. Because Jaune was right. Because Jaune had done more than just return a book with one of the bookmarker notes in it. He'd returned an astronomy book with one of the bookmarker notes in it. A book just like the ones that initially caught his eye a month ago.

You… havent responded |

| Yes

Yes? |

| Yes, Arc. I'll go on a date with you

WOO |

Saturday? We can do lunch and a movie |

My place |

If youre cool with that |

If not we can do something else |

Im down to do anything tbh |

As long as its with you |

| I can go to your place.

| Uh, depending on where it is?

| I can’t actually drive.

You cant drive?? |

| Never felt the need to.

| I live within walking or biking distance of everything and anything that’s not I only go to because Velv or Russ drag me there.

Fair |

My place is close to the library |

I can pick you up there? |

After your shift? |

| Yeah.

Is it weird to be,,, really giddy? For a date |

| I wouldn’t know.

| I’ve never actually been on a date before.

| Not one like this.

| Russel has dragged me into third wheeling before.

| And Velvet has set me up with a guy once.

| But I’ve never.

| Went out with a guy I really liked before.

| Definitely never to his house.

Ha-HA ive tricked you into going to a secondary location |

| Pffft

| Oh no.

| I guess I’ll have to sick Velvet on you then, if your plan has been to kidnap me all along.

Its too late |

Theyll never get you back |

| I haven’t followed you yet.

But you will? |

Like |

No jokes |

Youre actually going on a date with me |

Movie and pizza? |

My house? |

For the night? |

| Yes, Arc.

| No jokes, I swear.

| I really.

| Honestly.

| Want to go out with you.

| Oum knows why.

This is gonna be great |

I have both mummy movies |

I can fond over evie and rick and ardeth and you can fond over rick and ardeth |

And we can eat popcorn |

| Sounds like a good plan.

| I like cheese pizza.

Aye aye captain |

I can do that |

The date was… so good. It was the first time he’d been in Jaune’s presence like this. Honestly, it was a little overwhelming at first. If Jaune shone under the artificial light, he glowed under the sun. His eyes danced, blue swirling and swirling and swirling in a never ending sky. The constellations there seemed to be in full force as he smiled and somehow seemed to light up even more when he saw him. When he saw Cardin . Only family had ever seemed that happy to see him. Well, family and Sky and Dove (in his own way). But Jaune did. His smile was sunny and his eyes twinkled and Cardin knew he was gone before but it was like Jaune created a whole, different, second meaning to the word. One that ran deeper and held you tighter. And Cardin didn’t actually mind that. He squeezed Jaune’s hand and Jaune squeezed back.

They curled up on the small couch in Jaune’s apartment, pizza and popcorn in front of them as promised and the first Mummy movie already in the tv. Something about it felt calm. Homey in a way he hadn’t expected as he watched the clock all day with sweaty palms despite how busy the library had gotten. Their knees knocked together. Their shoulders touched. Their fingers intertwined. And before he knew it, it was late and they were almost done with the second movie. Tiredness pulled at him. One scene jumped to the next as his eyes closed.

His eyes opened briefly at the feeling of a nose against his cheek. It rubbed till it became a cheek, making him vaguely aware his glasses were gone. The feeling persisted for a few seconds and he recognized it, it was something his family had done to him before, but it escaped him. A word on the tip of his tongue. Fuzzy at the edge of consciousness. Then it was gone and the word filtered in as the new scent flowed clumsily through his mind, stronger than before. Scented . He’d been scented by Jaune. Cardin had never been scented before. Not by someone he liked romantically. Not by someone who had eyes like the sea after a storm and made his heart stop in his chest.

He turned his head and kissed him, slow and soft with sleep still crowding at the edge of his mind. Jaune kissed him back just as softly. It felt like hours and seconds went by. The feeling of slowly losing oxygen, of Jaune’s lips on his and Jaune’s scent on his skin wrapped around the sleep haze and pulled him closer like a rope. Cardin rubbed his own scent along Jaune’s cheek. Rubbed his wrist against Jaune’s wrist to get it there, too. His lips trailed to Jaune’s jaw, down his neck. And suddenly Cardin’s teeth dug into the scent gland at Jaune’s neck, too dazed by kisses and sleep and fire and ozone to register the sudden tang of blood on his tongue and the influx of alpha scent- of Jaune’s scent- in his senses. Too dazed to feel the responding bite.

#omegaversesfwweek2021 #omegaverse #rwby #cardin winchester #jaune arc #getting together #day three: modern au #modern au #library au #i guess?#college student jaune arc #flirting #texting #writings

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