#tell your friends that you would be friends in every universe
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
My friend Nader is a 17 years old Palestinian boy who has been campaigning tirelessly for months now in order to evacuate his whole family from Gaza.
When I first started chatting with him, his campaign, which has a total goal of âŹ50,000, was at a bit above âŹ5,000 at the time, about a month ago.
Thanks primarily to this sweet boy's daily efforts and the help he's received from some Tumblr users, we've managed to get his fundraiser to 62% of its total goal!!!!
With that in mind, if everyone who's donated a relatively small amount would donate a similar amount again as I did, we could SO easily take him very near his goal!!
His campaign is verified. It's the 4th campaign in this spreadsheet.
If we reach this âŹ50,000 goal, we'd be saving not just Nad, but several young children, his father Ahmed who's a cancer patient, and many others. Reminder too that an uncle of his was martyred very recently. Anything can happen at any moment, and he gets very disheartened whenever donations decrease. We need to get them all out of Gaza as soon as possible.
His little niece is suffering from malnutrition, and every day when Nad and I resume chatting again he tells me how exhausted he is. I'm very worried for him and his family, as there's people dying of starvation all around him and him and his family aren't doing well. His family has already been displaced NINE times!!
Let's give Nad a chance to follow his dreams of going to university. Let's give his very small siblings a chance to know of a life free of bombings and shootings. Let's give his father the opportunity to deal with his cancer with dignity and an actual fighting chance.
âŹ30,784/âŹ50,000
Tagging for reach:
@annevbonny @angelsaxis @anneemay @arabianbutch @babyfairy @bigprettygothgf @closet-keys @curseworm
@enbnonsense @fuckyeahmarxismleninism @filmnoirsbian @fireandfennel @fufudeplatano @frankeneglected
@guavabat @handweavers @jvzebel-x @journeysendinlovers @knifefightscene @kamalaskadoosh @lesbeet @lesbiantaurus
@lesbianslasherfilm @lesbianalism @medusadyke @narashite @nerdvi @nonbinarymerbabe @nurlet
@ororomunroedontpullout @prisonhannibal @palistani @palipunk @rosyish @robotpussy @sawasawako @serpari
@sirmonster @sibelin @socalgal @sunsstorms @thatdiabolicalfeminist @undeadbutch @uptownthots
@vamprisms @vympr @vicholas @womenintheirwebs @nabulsi @el-shab-hussein
#gaza#free gaza#free palestine#save palestine#i stand with palestine#gaza fundraiser#gaza evacuation fund
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Satoru BF Headcanons
Pairing: Satoru x Reader
Warnings: none
Summary: my idea of how Satoru is as a partner
Masterlist
bf!Satoru who is absolutely obsessed with you, you can do no wrong in his eyes and he will blindly side with you on anything and everything. Giving you absolute princess treatment and never letting you lift a finger when youâre with him.
bf!Satoru is super clingy and spends every moment he can with you. He wants your attention on him no matter what and he does not care if that means annoying you or embarrassing himself. Anytime he comes home from a mission he claims heâs been so exhausted that he simply needs you to stay in the house and cuddle with him for hours until heâs rejuvenated. Of course you know heâs lying, you always agree though, and remind him that he doesnât need to make excuses to get you so snuggle with him.
bf!Satoru already knows this but he likes the dramatics and sees his begging as a way to remind you of how much he loves you and how essential you are to his happiness. Since he often has to leave for missions you donât get as much time together as either of you would like, so he always wants to make sure you know how much he appreciates you.Â
bf!Satoru can be immature and annoying, but he also knows the importance of making his partner feel loved. Heâll spoil you in every way possible, with material goods, big romantic gestures, and sweet things he whispers so only you can hear. He
bf!Satoru brags about you to everyone who will listen, any event you attend features Satoru telling every person there how pretty and wonderful you are. Even in the middle of a fight he never has a bad thing to say about you, he canât stand the idea of you ever feeling insecure in your relationship. He always makes sure you know you're the center of his universe.
bf!Satoru is eternally doting and loving but he still has his fair share of annoying habits. Heâs immature in a lot of ways, not cleaning up after himself or teasing you about sensitive subjects. He certainly knows how to get on your nerves, but he also knows when heâs gone too far. He has no qualms about apologizing and while he is reluctant to give you space (heâd rather solve any issues as soon as they arrive) he will if you ask him. He doesnât believe in going to bed angry and will always push to solve issues before you go to sleep.Â
bf!Satoru is naturally protective, and certainly crosses the line into being overprotective around you. You rarely go on missions together because of this, but you're always there to take care of each other when you get home. Outside of work you donât mind his overprotectiveness as much, it often shows in strange ways you find quite endearing. Heâll carry you over mud puddles and make sure heâs always on the outside of the sidewalk, often he extends his infinity to you when youâre out to ensure your safety. He letâs the students pick on him all they want, but if they try it with you heâll assign them detention or challenge them to a fight.Â
bf!Satoru gets along with your friends wonderfully. He loves when you invite him to girlâs night and he gets to participate in the gossip. Heâs always especially interested in the romantic escapades of your friends, assuring them he has the best dating advice because he managed to get you to date him after all. He gets pouty when other boyfriends are brought along because he feels more special when heâs the only one that gets to come. His protectiveness of you extends to your friends too, heâs examining every drink you all order with his six eyes and heâs always happy to be the sober driver.Â
bf!Satoru works hard to make sure you know how loved you are and needs the same assurance from you. He loves any gesture that shows you were thinking of him. Picking him up his favorite sweet or sneaking a note into his suitcase before a trip is enough to make his whole week.
bf!Satoru loves laying in bed, his head on your chest and your hand massaging his scalp. Itâs the only time he can truly relax. He loves when you lay there and you pour your heart out to him, tell him how much you love and appreciate him and how he is your world as much as you are his. He loves pda, but treasures your moments alone much more. He loves feeling like it's just the two of you in the universe.
bf!Satoru loves the sound of your voice and finds it more comforting than anything on earth. If heâs having a bad day heâll ask you to read to him or sing to him while he falls asleep. He doesnât care if itâs over the phone or in person, or whether or not you think you're a good singer. To him your voice is the sweetest thing in the world. If you notice heâs upset and offer to read to him or sing to him itâll melt his heart and maybe even make him cry.Â
bf!Satoru only lets himself be vulnerable with you. Heâll tell you everything about him, his life and feelings are an open book. He needs that sort of communication from you too. Every random story you tell him is committed to his memory. His favorite dates are ones where you can spend hours talking and filling each other in on every little thing thatâs happened in your lives.
bf!Satoru is ready to get married the moment he lays his eyes on you. He knows instantly that youâre the one for him and never questions that for the rest of his life. You are his soul mate and his other half. He believes thereâs a gold string tying your souls together and he considers himself incredibly lucky to be tied to you.Â
#jujustsu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#satoru x you#gojo saturo#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo jjk#gojo fluff#satoru gojo#gojo x you#gojo imagine#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk gojo satoru#satoru x y/n#jujustu kaisen#jjk au#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#satoru headcanons#gojo headcanons#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojo headcanons#jjk gojo#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen
118 notes
·
View notes
Text
đating đĄoulette ! . Ë à±šà§ âčÂ
ê° đ ê± đ©ishimura âiki [ëí€] : ââđh 1. â you want⊠me? to be ur wingman?
đ°enre. smau (social media au), comedy, fluff, angst, romance, best friends to lovers. .Ëâč đčairing. non-idol,,best friend riki x fem reader. à»ê± đarning(s). profanity, kys/kms jokes, poor attempt at humor. <//3
đŒynopsis .á you have horrendous luck with men⊠and your best friend knows this. so, when you ask him to set you up with a guy, he immediately agreesâ except, he secretly likes you. in attempts to do what youâve asked of him, he sets you up with his friends, sabotaging every date you go on: until you finally agree to go out with him.
đŒtatus. ongoing! đpdates. every 2 to 3 days. (attempting) đŒtart. 11.04.24
ê° đ ê± đaglist. open! comment / send an ask to be added!
@nshmuras @wonsdoll @pshbites @greentulip @roarr-ki @chiaki-nanami-aesthetic @sol3chu @rikidaze @lelestarmy @17ericas @who-tf-soddhi @yangjungwonnie (bold cannot be tagged)
ê° đŹ ê± đ¶i đ·ote. FIRST CHAPTER LETS GO!!! welcome to my first smau :P
if you enjoyed this fic, please like and reblog! it's always appreciated :)
enjoy, my lovely readers. xoxo, mi. âčđč
đh 1. â you want⊠me? to be ur wingman? . . . masterlist / previous / next !
nishimura riki has been your best friend since the beginning of time.. well, since you were about four years old. the two of you have been inseparable since stepping onto the wooden floor of your shared dance studio, infatuated with each other from the get-go.Â
growing alongside the boy was special, if anything. there was rarely a time where you felt invisible or unheard with him, riki always finding a way to brighten the mood. from his energetic personality, witty humor, and the way he always listenedâ your friendship was unbreakable.
the two of you shared a bond so immense that it led you to attend the same university, both majoring in the realm of danceâ your passion lingering as time blurred from the small figures you were all those years ago.Â
as per usual, sat beside the boy, you took a bite of your steaming ramen, contemplating the next steps of your uneventful college life. between coursework, spending time with your best friends, and dancingâ there was barely any time for the one thing youâd been thinking about for years; dating.
youâd wished that a special someone would come sweep you off of your feet as described in romance novelsâ except that reality wasnât for you. it was true that your love life was comparable to the custodianâs dusty, dark, cobweb filled closet.
it wasnât that you werenât admired through the male gaze, it was simply the fact that nishimura riki seemed to be an obstacle to each boy who wanted to shoot their shot. except, who could blame them? your best friend was always attached to your hip, and you to his. heâs immensely tall, protective, and affectionate to the point it seemed as though he was your boyfriend.
except he isnât.
âbubba.â rikiâs husky voice called, breaking you out of the trance of deep thought youâd been in.
peering up at him with your adorable, curious eyes, he melts at the sight, a small smile tugging at his lips. âwhatâs on your mind, hm?â he questions softly, reaching a hand forward to rake his fingers through the soft ends of your hair.
âwell.. itâs just that i want to try going on a date, i think.â you admit in response, causing the boy to pause.
âyou⊠you want to go on a date?â he asks, his protectiveness appearing at the forefront of his expressionâ masking his slight disappointment. âwith who?â he proceeds to question, sounding skeptical.
it was no secret that the boy admired you, adored you with every ounce of his heart. he refused to treat any other female the way he does you. from an outsiderâs viewpoint, anyone could tell that he loves you.
âthatâs what i was getting to⊠could youâ possibly set me up?â you ask ever so innocently, causing rikiâs heart to crack inside of his chest.
âyou want⊠me?â he begins, pointing to himself with his index finger, âto be your wingman?â the boy blinks, staring at you with a blank stare and parted lips.
âyes!â you agree with a cheeky grin, nodding your head in addition to the verbal response.
with a heavy sigh, the boy nods, flashing a small, tight-lipped smile toward you. âalright, baby. iâll set you up on a date this weekend.â
â all content posted to kiss4noo is not to be plagiarized, translated or reposted.
#đ ê± written by mi âč#en diaries#enhypen#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen imagines#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff#enha#enha fanfic#enha imagines#enha angst#enha fluff#heeseung enhypen#heeseung x reader#jay enhypen#jay x reader#jake enhypen#jake x reader#sunghoon enhypen#sunghoon x reader#sunoo enhypen#sunoo x reader#jungwon enhypen#jungwon x reader#ni ki enhypen#ni ki x reader
76 notes
·
View notes
Text
â± âź fratboy!chris headcanons âžâž
all my fratboy!chris blurbs, fics, and wips : here
âą SFW
â± fratboy!chris who, of course, met you at a party his fraternity threw and instantly decided you were comin' up to his room at some point, even if it wasn't gonna happen that night
" y'look good "
" me? "
" yeah, youâ wa's y'name? "
â± fratboy!chris who's known all too well by girls at boston university, though, despite contrary belief, he doesn't actually entertain most of them... guess you got lucky?
â± fratboy!chris who's BU's resident dealer, known by every fiend on campus and more
â± fratboy!chris who doesn't fuck with relationship labels whatsoever
â± fratboy!chris who doesn't mess with anyone else, and doesn't want you to either, even though you guys aren't really 'dating'
â± fratboy!chris who has no problem letting everyone know you're his with pride
â± fratboy!chris who would rather focus on his lacrosse career than "some shitty college romances", or at least that's how he explains it to you
" and why are you telling me this? "
" jus' thought y'should know... i'on want you gettin' any funny ideas about what we got goin' on here "
â± fratboy!chris who avoids any conversations about the future, or anything that requires him to even think about committing
â± fratboy!chris who constantly needs you with him, whether he's just lounging around, at practice/games, or out making moves. ironic, isn't it?
â± fratboy!chris who doesn't call you anything but mama, not even ma, no matter the occasion
" y'see how crazy you're bein' right now? mama, m'jus sittin' here, see? can't stand when y'do allat whinin' shit "
" don't call mama right now, chris, i'm done with all your fake nonchalant ass games "
â± fratboy!chris who, even with being admired for his outgoing and charming personality, has such a rotten temper, especially when things don't go his way
â± fratboy!chris who always says what's on his mind - to you, his friends, random people, anyone - even if it's completely unnecessary
â± fratboy!chris who absolutely relishes in the respect he has from not only his peers, but the staff as well. humble's simply not a word in his world
âą NSFW
â± fratboy!chris who's big and knows how to use it
â± fratboy!chris who favors doggy, but can also get down with some rough missionary
" nah, s'okay mama... we'll switch it up tonight, don't worry "
â± fratboy!chris who likes giving, but loves receiving. the image of your lips wrapped around his length is what helps him to sleep at night
â± fratboy!chris who's a huge hair puller and thigh slapper (as well as occasional cheek squeezer)
â± fratboy!chris who will take any opportunity he possibly can to either roll up or puff his joints while you use him
â± fratboy!chris who makes sure to leave marks. usually where only you two can see, but if he feels like a guy's paying too much attention to you, he'll mark you on your neck or something for him to see
" chris, it's so obvious. how am i even gonna cover this up? "
" don't cover it. i'd like to see m'try an' get in your pants again when he sees allat "
" he literally asked for the material in our class..? "
â± fratboy!chris who's almost always down for trying something new, but isn't usually one to suggest it
â± fratboy!chris who loves when you praise him, even if it's unintentional. simple things like "so big," or "so good," really get him going
" yeah, s'good? y'wan more of that good shit? "
â± fratboy!chris who, to no surprise, is horrible at aftercare.
a/n : i fear this took a lot longer than i thought it would to make... but i'll be making at least one of these for each of my au's since a) i'm unmotivated/don't have time to actually write, and b) want to develop the characters (and some of their pairings) further
-love, grandma cvnty â!
#cvntagious#â
âź fratboy!chris#chris#chris sturniolo#christopher#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo au#christopher sturniolo au#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#frat bro chris#chris sturniolo smut#chris smut#christopher sturniolo edits#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo headcanon#headcannons#fratboy!chris#fratboy!chris headcanons#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#matt#matt girl#matthew#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo smut
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
songs queued! â boynextdoorâs ktv experiences with you
wc â 1.9k (~300-350 per member) genre & warnings â fluff, crack, platonic for woonhak, most scenarios will have alcohol involved (except for woonhakâs), songs that theyâd sing in the karaoke included (with one opm song per member because i must give respect to my heritage that gifted me my talent) notes â one thing about me is that i do NOT play about ktvs. you will catch me drinking and having the time of my life in one almost every week (it's been a month since i last went. i miss it). if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog and leave feedback!
request to be part of the taglist! masterlist
park sungho knows one thing: you and alcohol guarantee a night filled with tears. whether it would be over the worst week youâve had or out of sheer joy from being surrounded with your friends, itâs a sob fest. the first time you cried to him in your intoxicated state brought him to drop the mic⊠until he heard you talk about the finale of your favorite series. itâs not that sungho doesnât take you seriously, but he now knows what to do should you cry again.
â° sungho never strays away from the microphone, always flipping through the songbook to find another song to queue. if anything, you were the type who seemed to avoid the microphone. yet, sungho never pushed you to sing, so long as you sung along or enjoyed the night.
â° on the nights the reason behind your tears are serious, he leads you somewhere far from the party, and heâll stick with you until the end. he wonât force you to talk about anything, only holding a glass of water should you ever need one. he knew these were the only moments you could allow yourself to vent, to be vulnerable, and he would never strip that from you. all he wants is to be there for you.
â° before you leave the party, sungho checks up on you one last time. he wipes your tear stained cheeks before pulling you into a hug. although your intoxicated mind wonât remember, he tells you to call him the next day. and when morning comes, youâll see a message from him saying that heâs on the way to your place with a bowl of chinese soup.Â
songs queued â no control by one direction â still into you by paramore â replay by shinee â broken clocks by sza â and july by heize, dean & dj friz â chinito by yeng constantino
lee riwoo is all too familiar with your three different stages of intoxication. first, youâll be in a bubbly mood, struggling to hold back your giggles over the smallest things that shouldnât be funny. when youâve had a bit more alcohol in your system, youâll let loose and get on the dance floor, dragging riwoo along to enjoy the night with you. once youâve calmed down, youâll find yourself entering your third stage of intoxication: going nonverbal. riwoo follows the same stages as you.
â° riwoo enjoys the karaoke with you. he can let loose and sing his heart out, knowing that someone is there to reciprocate the energy. itâs in the karaoke roomâor maybe just being with you that he feels most alive. in your shared looks, you always read his mind, and you always came rushing to him with what he needed; another singing buddy, a person to dance with, someone to laugh with, the only one who can just sit in silence with him.
â° when one of you go nonverbal, the other person makes it an effort to ask if they want to go somewhere far from the party. after all, the noise and lights could be overwhelming. riwoo always comes prepared with water while you always have earphones should the energy be too much. however, when the two of you find yourselves entering the third stage of intoxication, a corner in the room suffices. the only thing important to you two is having each other during these moments.
â° while everyone goes off in their own, you and riwoo stick together. the way back home is a wordless one, but one filled with actions; hand holding and interlocked arms. the two of you thank the universe for silent momentsâso long as you two are together.
songs queued â red wine supernova by chappell roan â shoong by taeyang feat. lisa â smoking out the window by silk sonic â beauty and a beat by justin bieber & nicki minaj â born this way by lady gaga â dadalhin by regine velasquez
myung jaehyun follows one rule when it comes to ktvs and you: act as the designated babysitter, specifically yours. you and alcohol never mix well. despite how many times you tell him that you arenât going to drink, you canât hold yourself back around a bottle of liquor. yet, jaehyun knows how much you needed the break. in fact, heâs always been the one person to tell you to stop spending late nights with your back slouched in front of your computer. so for now, heâll allow you to have this time to let looseâso long as heâs there to take care of you.Â
â° one thing about jaehyun is that he knew how to have fun without the alcoholâthatâs how you know heâs the life-of-the-party. somehow, he knew what you needed. someone to sing with? thatâs him. someone to hype you up? easiest job for him. someone to take a break with? you didnât have to askâhe knows. when he sees you taking a seat after you sing your heart out, he rushes to your side. sure, you need some water, but sometimes, you just want someone to lean on. and he always knows.
â° as everyone starts to bid their farewells, you hold jaehyunâs arm half-asleep. given all the times he took care of you, there would be no question who brings you home. he knows what to do before you fall to your bed; watch out the remnants of the night so that you can enjoy your sleep. after all, he didnât mind taking care of you. the soft babbling, the sudden giggles, the quiet snoresâthese happened to be his favorite moments after every night out.Â
â° whenever you wake up, youâd find hangover medicine and water on your bedside table. that was enough to make you smile.Â
songs queued â to myself by dpr live â new thing by zico â i need a girl by taeyang â aeao by dynamic duo â pour up by dean & zico â beer by the itchyworms
han taesan knows all the telltale signs that show whenever youâve had too much to drink. he moves quick, ready to catch you whenever you stumble or snatch a shot from you. as much as taesan could never hold back from your eyes that plead to him, he knows you; a morning with a pounding headache and lack of recollection of last nightâs events isnât one you wanted to deal with. you think heâs not doing you a favor, sulking as he tells you he wonât leave until you finish a glass of water, but youâll thank him when the morning comes.
â° some nights, you manage to get away from taesanâs scolding. however, that only brings him to think smarter. at a point of incoherency, you still search for alcohol, whining as you ask them to fill up your shot glass. while you expect it to be filled with vodka, taesan fills it with water without your knowledge. to really sell it, heâll take a âshotâ with you. your intoxicated mind could never tell. (it was always amusing to see you hiss over the âalcoholâ going down your throat.) and when you struggled to keep up with the lyrics, taesan would join along and keep you up to pace.
â° when the night finally comes to an end, taesan never allows himself to watch you go home by yourself. youâre too drunk to take care of yourself, and for his peace of mind, he stays with you until he sees you enter the front door.Â
â° when morning comes, taesan only recaps your foolish actions. while you sit in embarrassment, taesan laughs. (but heâll never tell you of all the times he made sure you got home safe. he didnât care how late in the nightâor early in the morningâit would be. all he knows is that heâd do it any day.)
songs queued â linger by the cranberries â welcome to the black parade by my chemical romance â 1999 by g2 & gray â mr. brightside by the killers â sk8er boi by avril lavigne â huwag na huwag mong sabihin by kitchie nadalÂ
kim leehan canât deny he likes you in your intoxicated state. youâre never this bubbly, clingy, with him unless youâve got some alcohol in your system. and in this state, you never know how to control your words. shy compliments and secret confessions never fail to leave your mouth. he swears he can hear his heartbeat with every word you say. it starts off with the love songs; you never can stop yourself from singing them. while everyoneâs busy singing along, they never spot the glances you take at leehan. he doesnât know if itâs your poor attempt to look at him discreetly, but he will always lock eyes with you. itâs the heat in your cheeks that are enough to send a message his way.
â° when you start settling down, you stay with leehan, latching onto his arm and basking in his warmth. leehan accepts your touch, even slinging an arm to hold you close. mumbles tumble out of your mouth. when he canât understand, heâll lean closer to youâand the distance is enough to make you lose your train of thought. (leehan canât help but like your starstruck expression.)
â° once the party comes to its end, you always sober up in time. youâre back to your laidback persona that everyone knows of. yet, leehan still looks at you like the same intoxicated person who held onto him almost the entire night. although you try to feign ignorance, he knows you all too well. his hand rests on top of your head, allowing you to enjoy briefly in his warmth before you go on your separate ways.
â° you two never talk about it in the next morning. (but you two think back to it in the late hours of the night.)
songs queued â a thousand miles by vanessa carlton â september by earth, wind, and fire â yeah by usher feat. lil jon & ludacris â so sick by ne-yo â youâre so vain by carly simon â torete by moonstar88Â
kim woonhak would never pass on karaoke, especially if youâre coming along. every song becomes a duet with you. not in a way that youâre stealing each otherâs spotlight but more to deliver the best performance in the booth. the karaoke booth transforms into anything you two want it to be; a stage, a garage, whatever space fits the song and you two.
â° whenever you two get tired, you fall into a routine of catching up on anything and everything. somehow, you two can talk about anything in the world; lucid dreams, burning passions, the concept of water and if itâs wet. woonhak likes these conversations. if anything, heâd be happy to just talk, but he likes creating memories with youâliving life with you. his youth is filled with you.
â° while everyone leaves with a goal to rest, you and woonhak canât seem to think about whatâs in store for the next day. the way home is filled with laughter over tonightâs events. somehow, you remind him that thereâs more to life than just school or work. thereâll always be space for these silly moments and never-ending conversations with you.
â° mornings after surprisingly arenât as noisy like the nights you spend at the ktv. somehow, you two like it slow, and woonhakâs happy enough to spend it with his favorite person.Â
songs queued â her by block b â come back home by seo taiji and boys â left & right by seventeen â cat & dog by tomorrow by together â love scenario by ikon â andrew ford medina by andrew e.
networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @onedoornet @kstrucknet
boynextdoor permanent tag list: @bndokidoki @0310s @whyilovewhales-pdf
story tag list: @zynz0 @chewnotchoke
#works of moni#onedoornet#kflixnet#k-labels#kstrucknet#boynextdoor#boynextdoor headcanons#boynextdoor x reader#boynextdoor imagines#taesan x reader#taesan imagines#park sungho x reader#park sungho imagines#myung jaehyun x reader#myung jaehyun imagines#riwoo x reader#riwoo imagines#leehan x reader#leehan imagines#woonhak & reader#woonhak imagines
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
fight my way âŸïž minghao x reader.
âwould you call me a saint or a sinner? would you love me, a loser or a winner?â # day five of (the)8 days of minghao.
aspiring olympian!minghao is five years old when he starts practicing wushu. his parents coo at him, calling him an adorable little thing, as he stumbles over his stubby legs in an attempt to pull off the bow stance. in this universe, it is not dance that sets his body aflame; it is the lead foot pointed straight ahead, the squat on one leg before he lunges.
aspiring olympian!minghao shows potential. enough potential for his coaches to pull aside his mother and father, to tell them, your son is good. he can be good. his parents share a look because they do not know yet what it means, to have a miracle on their hands. what to do with that when it comes their way.
aspiring olympian!minghao is seven years old when he begins to train more regularly. he's nearing the age where he can compete in compete in the children's martial arts competitions. he has parents who believe in him and a coach in his corner. he cannot lose, he think, for more reasons than one.
aspiring olympian!minghao is eight years old when he experiences a plethora of firsts. it's the real of his first real wushu competition, where he clinches second place with a score of 9.19. five points shy of gold. but the silver medal pales in comparison to the more important firstâ the first time he meets you.
aspiring olympian!minghao who watches wide-eyed from the bleachers as you compete in a different category. he is mesmerized as you glide across the mat with your bo staff, every single one of your movements perfectly controlled. your footwork is immaculate. your demeanor is unflappable. minghao nearly boos when you don't get a score high enough to finish on the podium.
aspiring olympian!minghao finds you afterwards. his coaches will tell you that he's more quiet and restrained than the rest of his peers, but there's none of that now as he shoulders past athletes and trainers to seek you out. when he does, he's slightly out of breath and his eyes are a little wild. his first words are blurted without much preamble. "we have to be friends," he'll insist, and you are helpless to deny him.
aspiring olympian!minghao, your confidante, your rival, your friend. throughout your childhood, the two of you share that world. the life of competitive martial arts. of training sessions after school, of watching and rewatching tournaments in a constant bid to compare and improve.
aspiring olympian!minghao becomes a constant presence of yours at these local events. the two of you cheer each other on when you aren't on the same mat. you sit by the bleachers and talk shit about everyone else because the two of you are young and arrogant. when you run out of other people to talk about, there's your lives outside of wushu to discuss. minghao's gripe with his teachers. your yearning for the newest cellphone. whenever you two part ways, it is with the promise to see each other again next time.
aspiring olympian!minghao is thirteen years old when you just... disappear. he thinks it's a one-off, one of those competitions where you've opted to prioritize school instead of sport. but then you're not at the next one. or the next one. he's thrown off his game; he doesn't even finish podium at a certain point. his parents are concerned. his coaches, baffled. he doesn't know how to explain himself.
aspiring olympian!minghao decides to do what he does best. he looks for you. he hunts you down, asks around, until he's at your front door with a look of utter frustration on his sharp features. "what gives?" he asks in lieu of 'hello'. there's no point in playing it cool. he's upset. he's hurt. he misses you. "where the hell did you go?" he demands, because it's easier to be angry than it is to be sad.
aspiring olympian!minghao is speechless when you tell him you've quit. quit. the word doesn't make sense to him. he's been in this game for nearly a decade now. you had done it for just as long. and now you were justâ giving it up? "but you're so good," he stammers, his hands quivering around the glass of water you've poured him. "you can't quit!"
aspiring olympian!minghao is scandalized, sure, but you realize very quickly that his distress has less to do about the sport and everything to do about something else. and so you apologize for leaving without warning. you explain the reasons why you're doing it. and then. and then, you reassure him. you assuage his worries. "just because i'm quitting wushu," you say, an edge of tentative hope in your tone. "it doesn't mean we have to quit being friends."
aspiring olympian!minghao decides he'll take that. he thinks it's still a mighty shame, a waste of someone who could have had it all. it's your life, he convinces himself, and if your life isn't this sport, then he can't blame you. he grieves the loss of what you once shared, but he'd rather be your friend than not have you at all.
aspiring olympian!minghao picks up the slack. he wins gold in his next competition. then the next one. then the next. his coaches smirk amongst themselves. his parents once again share amused looks. the reason for his drive is back in the stands, scrutinizing his every move like they're one of his trainers themselves.
aspiring olympian!minghao still talks to you about all the other people he's competing against, about the rigorous routines and the classes he enjoys. you trade him stories of the life you're building away from these gymnasiums. sometimes, he feels a tinge of jealousy. he wants in. he wants to be part of your stories, too; wants to be more than just a guy you come to watch every couple of months.
aspiring olympian!minghao is sixteen years old when he announces that he wants to compete in the olympics. go big or go home, he says, with that smirk of his that borderlines on cocky. except that grin is wiped out when his coaches inform him that wushu isn't an olympic sport. it is in the southeast asian games, they tell him, but a part of minghao knows that isn't enough.
aspiring olympian!minghao asks, "okay, so what martial art is in the olympics?" his coaches hesitate but they answer him anyway. there's judo and taekwondo. minghao weighs the options for a long moment before decisively saying, "i'm going to start training for taekwondo."
aspiring olympian!minghao is unfazed as you cuss him out, as you rain punches down his back. "are you insane?" you're screeching, your eyes flashing with indignation. "what are you thinking, just switching up like that?" in his head, his explanation is bulletproof. wushu and takewondo are sister combat sports, with similar forms and acrobatic movements. he feels very much like that girl in that one american movie you made him watch, the one where the blonde said what, like it's hard?
aspiring olympian!minghao is a little exasperated when you get so annoyed that you freeze him out. he's called a lovesick fool and a door mat as he chases after you, but he's been on the receiving end of those assumptions for the better half of his teenage years. they no longer have any effect on him. in the end, he manages to convince you that it's just something he wants to try. he'll just try, he tells you, and he'll go back to wushu if it doesn't work out.
except aspiring olympian!minghao has never done anything half-heartedly. he spends the next four years training his body to get used to the forms, kicks, and punches of taekwondo. he practices new sparring techniques. he leverages his agility and flexibility; he fails more than he has in his entire sports career, but he pushes on.
aspiring olympian!minghao finds solace in your friendship. you're there when you can be, with your diet-friendly snacks and heat packs and sanrio band-aids. you still seem skeptical about his transition, about his relentless drive to be an olympian, but your hesitant support still means the world to him. he laps it all up and holds it all to his chest as he vies for qualifiers.
aspiring olympian!minghao doesn't qualify in the first year he tries. you think that's it, he's done; he'll go back to wushu. but he's twenty years old and raring to go. he got this far, didn't he? that's what he tells you as he gets back in to his dobok, as he negotiates to be put in a different weight class. "there will be more olympics," he tells you, that self-assuring grin still very much in place. "i'll be at the next one."
aspiring olympian!minghao clinches gold at a national taekwondo competition. not enough, he thinks, so he goes on to smash records at the world taekwondo championship. his pathway for qualification is paved. he fields all his bets in the -58kg weight class. he is twenty four years old. he makes it. you are one of the first people to find out.
olympian!minghao trains, and trains, and trains. for months, he is just a rotation of ailments. sore thighs, busted lips, bruised knuckles. he feels alive, though. he is bruised and battered, but he is also heading to paris for the goddamn olympics. he can deal with the scrapes and the aches.
olympian!minghao gets a little more clingy with you in the weeks leading up to his scheduled departure. he plans dinners and blocks off weekends. he pouts when you miss some of his exhibitions. he steals away from training to pick you up from work. you try to reason that this is a manifestation of his nerves; how he is seeking out one of his oldest friends for support.
but olympian!minghao isn't doing this solely because you're his pillar when it comes to sports. you realize this, one evening, when you tease him about finding some nice olympian to date while he's in the city of love and he looks at you like you're crazy. "why would you say that?" he asks. "i'm courting you, aren't i?" (he may have forgotten to inform you, he realizes. oh, well. at least now you know.)
olympian!minghao doesn't play around with courtship. he strives to balance it with his rigorous training schedule even as you insist that he should focus on practice, that this is a discussion the two of you can have once he's back from paris. he only shakes his head and asks what you want for lunch. in his head, he has already waited long enough.
olympian!minghao begs you to hold back on your answer, though, until he comes home. the night before his flight, he tells you why. "it will motivate me," he admits quietly. "i want you to be with a winner." you attempt to protest, to tell him that it doesn't matter, but he asks you to indulge him. "let me have this. it's stupid, i knowâ but it keeps the fire burning."
olympian!minghao is stunned when you give him a parting gift. at first, he's confused by the neon orange plastic ring hanging from the silver chain until you shyly tell him where it came from. it's from the wushu competition where you were both eight years old. where he'd zeroed in on you and decided, that is somebody i need in my life. you'd been wearing it during your exhibition. he takes it from you, now, like it's made of gold.
olympian!minghao heads to the olympics. he is called a rising star in his weight class. he gains a small cult following for his looks and his skill. his parents laugh; his coaches shake their heads. the modicum of social media fame and the adoring fangirls have nothing on who is waiting for minghao. who he is waiting for, in turn.
olympian!minghao makes that abundantly clear as early as his first round. you are watching back home when the cameras focus on him. the announcers read it aloudâ his accolades, his backgroundâ but you are distracted by what he chooses to do, instead, with his few minutes of screen time.
olympian!minghao catches the camera and gives the smallest of smiles. he tugs at his dobok until he's pulling out the chain around his neck. then, like the fool that he'll always be for youâ he presses the plastic ring to his lips. after all: he has never done anything half-heartedly, and that includes loving you.
#minghao x reader#the8 x reader#xu minghao x reader#minghao imagines#the8 imagines#minghao fluff#minghao fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#†ylangelegy: mine#†ylangelegy: svt#ylangelegy the8 days of minghao#( this turned out better than i expected tbqh HAHA )#( open ending intentional!!!!!! ME N MY OPEN ENDINGS FOREVER N EVER )#( wushu minghao is my fav thought )
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
asks.
there are quite a few asks on my ask box so i'm reply to some of them collectively on this post!
unfortunately he's alone in that. jon could have been his stacy but he's got a crush on reader and has too much fun with their invetions. damian thinks he's a traitor.
@megasweetbones
"perry and alfred used to be secret agents of the british royal family"
now that's a very old platypus.
i like the idea of tim being the most unsettled by the platypus out of everyone. tripping him might or might not have been on purpose. we'll never know! but after a while, tim is just conviced the platypus' got some weird business about it. typical wayne paranoia, sure, but he swears there's something about that weird little amalgamation of animals he can't really pinpoint. he swears he's looking at him weird. and he swears he's scaring him on purpose, appearing out of nowhere.
"calm your tits, tim. it's just a platypus." jason says, "they don't do much."
but tim really can't help glaring at perry the very normal regular domesticated platypus whenever he's seen in reader's arms.
@randomlyappearingartist
alfred absolutely knows about the invetions. no he will not tell bruce about them. he sees bruce and the others barely noticing reader exists, how dismissive they are, and he's like "i'll tell them to ask their father for permission first. if master bruce doesn't notice the legally binding papers or the outlandish gadgets around the manor then that's his problem, honestly."
the most he does is very cryptically allude to it, in hopes the family will take notice of reader. as expected, it doesn't work. he just lets reader do whatever they want as long as they consult their father firts and promise to be careful.
the thing about phineas! reader is that they are a regular teenager (if you take away the gifted genius who can build rocketships to the moon in a single day part) who's just in it for the fun. creating all those crazy gadgets and invetions, letting their creativity flow, having fun with their friends, spending every summer day like it's the last one before they go back to school.
if perry got them a job at the justice league, i think reader would deny it. they're not particularly interested in vigilantism or heroism for that matter. they might consider it after high school is over, but for now? all they want to do is be a teenager. not a very conventional teenager, but a teenager nonetheless.
and tbh it's more of a psychological thing, not being able to build. it's like all of those ideas are bottling up inside their head, going to waste, with them being unable to do anything about it.
well, it's not like they can't do anything about it, but having the batfam limiting what they can and cannot do, watching over their shoulder, isn't exactly providing them the enrichment they need.
but since damian and jon are determined to help, reader doesn't have to worry about that for long!
reader is actually a citizen of metropolis! or was, since they're now in gotham. a big adjustment.
the meeting between jon and reader happens thanks to damian. he's fully expecting jon to be an ally in busting his new sibling. he's complained about them countless times before, to the point jon's tired of hearing about them.
but he actually meets them and, hey, they're super cute and super cool! it's kind of amazing they come up with their inventions so fast. so he goes from reluctantly humoring damian to actively helping reader. maybe even with his own powers. damian can do nothing but shake his head and sigh wearily. jon is an idiot.
the scene in question anon is referencing, at 0:16.
the concept is so funny, anon, but hm... i wonder if jon wouldn't just straight up tell reader about it. he wants to be included, so i don't think it'd be long before he's using his powers to help reader with their inventions.
it is at times like these the batfam has to thank the universe reader is chaotic good and would never turn to villainy. because then damian can enjoy having a super awesome sibling who gives him all sorts of elaborate weapons for him to practice with!
nevermind that he's asking for these just so he can bring the weapons you built to bruce and prove once and for all you're not the harmless kid they think you are, but that's before he realizes the weapons are kinda good. and he kinda wants to keep them, which wouldn't be possible if he handed them over to bruce.
so he'll keep these a secret. just these.
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
đ the deal đ¶ | âSometimes people sneak up on you and suddenly you don't know how you ever lived without them.â
HAPPY BIRTHDAY @youwerenevermine! đ„łđ„°đđ€đđđđ Okay fine whatever so I am a few hours your time early, but I was so excited to share and honestly, the world is going to end soon and I wanted to get ahead of the game. I went back and forth over what to do for you and couldnât decide so went with this. The original hockey boyfriend Mr. Garrett Graham and sassy Hannah Wells! It is Jonerys meets THE DEAL! I hope you like it! So grateful to this fandom for introducing me to you! Love you bby! đ
There was a very strong possibility Jon Snow had made a terrible mistake making this deal with Daenerys Targaryen. He figured it was easy enough; she was a smarty pants and could help him get his grade up in what was supposed to be an "easy A" philosophy class and keep him from getting benched. In doing so, he'd pretend to date her and the guy she had a crush on-- fucking Robb, his own damn cousin-- would see her as a bit more than weird silver-haired purple-eyed Dany and want to ask her out. Since Robb wanted anything he couldn't have-- particularly if Jon had it first.
Now he was watching Robb openly flirt with her and was squeezing his beer bottle so hard he figured he'd be benched not for his shitty philosophy grade but for having to get stitches in his stick hand. It was supposed to be an easy quid-pro-quo. A deal. Started off more annoying than anything else-- Dany could not have cared one single snowflake that he was Queen Alysanne University's star left winger and frequently let him know it. He honestly appreciated it, even if he had to really wear her down, chasing her all over Winterfell to get her to concede.
That had honestly been fun. Then there were their random long conversations after studying. Topics ranged from the best pizza toppings-- pepperoni and more pepperoni for him, while she saw nothing wrong with pineapple on her pizza-- to the best Marvel movie-- he didn't mind that movie about 'The Eternals' while she thought it sucked and liked 'Ant Man' more, all the way over to which House of Commons member should win the two highly competitive ridings near Winterfell or who really won the War of Five Kings?
He also had admitted to her some things he'd never shared with anyone. That he might be the aloof "Ice Man" of QAU hockey who could get any girl he wanted, he actually played that image outside of his truly private life. In reality he just couldn't think of girls, he was too busy trying to do his best to keep his grades up to get a very difficult degree in metallurgy and cultural anthropology while also making sure he didn't lose his rookie contract with the Winterfell Wolves professional hockey team.
Just like he knew all she wanted was to get the bonus money from the School of Drama and Music's winter showcase to help with her mother's medical bills, back in Pentos. That her dream was to sing on stage at the King's Landing Opera House.
All of that swam in his head, those conversations and late nights, sitting out in the quad on a blanket while she quizzed him on long dead Maesters, or that time she'd come to one of his games and he'd scored a hat trick, so she ahd to come to every singel one afterward.
He had done his job; he talked her up to Robb. He lingered in the living room of his and Robb's shared house when they would talk, just in case there needed to be extra prodding. Now they were on a bloody, fucking date.
"Jon, buddy, let go of the beer. The beer didn't do anything to you. Come on man, there you go." His friend and other roommate, Satin, carefully pried his fingers off the glass neck, moving the bottle to the oak bartop. "Alright, so when are you going to tell her?"
"Huh?" He was now glaring at the back of Robb's stupid auburn head, wondering if he could cut off those fucking curls while he was sleeping and blame their fourth roommate Theon. "Tell her what?"
"That you're in love with her, you dipshit."
Thank the gods he wasn't holding the beer bottle because he'd have definitely dropped it. He also was glad he didn't have any beer in his mouth, because that would have been sputtered everywhere as he gaped at Satin, who was now studying his fingernails nonchalantly. "Wha...what...I'm not....she's a friend! She wasn't just a friend, she was...Dany.
Dany, whose first words to him were: "I'm sorry do I know you?"
Dany, who always tied her long silver braids up on her head in a knot using pencils. Who hummed random song llyrics and chords and scribbled them on ltitle pieces of paper. Who had a voice that sounded like fucking angels from teh rafters. Who snorted and cackled when she laughed. Who called him "Wolf Man" instead of "Ice Man" because he had a wolf back home and one tattooed on his arm.
Dany....Dany who always smelled like lemons and lavender and who...
He blinked. It was like seeing everything under a different filter. Brighter. Across the bar, he watched Dany laugh at something Robb said, but it didnât meet her eyes. She was playing with the silver guitar pick she used, something he had learned was a nervous habit. Her eyesâ vibrant, happy lavenderâ did not fully meet his, but he knew she had glanced his way.
Gods. Was he in love with her? Was that what this feeling was? He couldnât love her. He had to focus on hockey and studying andâŠit was just easier to keep that other side of him out there. If Jon Snow actually found a girlâŠa music major who didnât know a deke from a slapshot and thought there were quarters not periodsâŠheâd never hear the end of it.
He didnât care. He didnât want her with Robb. âAnd why is that?â Satin asked.
Fuck he said that out loud? âBecause sheâs mine,â he snapped. He paused. âNo she is her own person of course I donât own her obviously butâŠâ He drained the beer bottle. This was one thing Robb was not going to steal from him. He stomped over to their table and didnât even wait for his cousin to say anything before he glanced at Dany. âGet your coat, we still have to finish that Agatha show.â
She cocked her head up, confused. âJon whatâŠâ
âCome on.â
âJon,â Robb began, but he didnât even have time to finish. Jon grabbed Danyâs hand, tugging her away and towards the back corridor. âWhat the seven hells Jon!â
If she wanted to fight him, she could. Heâd let her anyway. Dany did not pull very hard and protested over Robbâs loud complaining. âJon seriously what the fuck are you doing?!â She pushed at his chest when he tugged them into the stairwell that led up to the bar manager office, the dim lighting throwing her face in relief. She was fuming. She was a dragon, he expected it. âWhat was that!?â
âI want to see something.â He didnât wait for a response. He had to do this. So he crashed his mouth down over hers.
The shock had her gasping, lips parting under his. Soft, plump, perfect lips, and he pressed gently, his hands dropping to her small waist to hold her upright against the wall. She had her hand on his shoulder and for a second he didnât think she was going to kiss back and made to pull away, apology at the ready, knowing he had fucked this up completely.
Until her hands dove into his hair and she opened her mouth wider, moaning and pulling him to her. He groaned, desperate now, a man who had his first taste of water after wandering a desert, and cupped her jaw, angling her head so he could rise over her, sliding his tongue along hers. Gods. She tasted like strawberries. How!? One of lifeâs mysteries, he supposed.
The need for air separated them, their breathing ragged and foreheads touching, noses brushing. Her gaze lifted, meeting his. âI take it you donât think I should see Robb?â
He shook his head, whispering, âCome home with me. Iâll make you a deal.â
âAnd whatâs that?â
He kissed her again, nipping her bottom lip. Her breasts were pressed to his chest and his knee had wedged itself between hers. They were about ten seconds away from a public indecency charge. His voice dropped, gravelly. âYou come home with me and Iâll make you come within ten minutes. Five, even.â
Her cheeks flushed pink. âAnd what do you get out of this deal?â she asked.
He pretended to think, before flashing a grin. âThe knowledge I made you come. Oh and, our next movie night you donât wear underwear.â
She smirked now. âI am not one of your puck bunnies.â
âAnd you know I donât do puck bunnies.â
After a second, she barely nodded. âAlright. Letâs see what youâve got Wolf Man.â
âSo itâs a deal then Targy?â She hated that nickname. The glare she shot him had him grinning.
She pulled at his hand, towards the back exit. âItâs a deal.â
#jonerys#jonerys au#my fics#my moodboards#HAPPY BIRTHDAY ERIKA!!!! đ đ đ đđ„łđ„°đ#the deal au#jonerys meets Garrett x Hannah#hockey Jon!#singer Dany!#Jonerys Drabble
38 notes
·
View notes
Note
36, maxiel:)
36. lifting the other one up
a coda to clothing of delight!
âIt was just likeââ Dannyâs voice strains as he tenses every muscle in his body, ââ this.âÂ
Max makes this little noooo Daniel moan as Danny hoists him straight up, hands hiked under Maxâs ass, jogging Maxâs arms around his shoulders. They look absolutely silly. One middle aged dude picking up the other in the kitchen, sloppily. Danny canât believe his utter dumb luck. Like the universe pushed him over the edge only to catch him by the scruff of his t-shirt at the very last second, just for fun.Â
âYour backââ Max quavers.
âUse your legs, help me out!âÂ
Max obediently wraps his legs around his hips. Danny tips them back as far as he can until he can scoot the edge of Maxâs butt over the edge of the countertop. He's very heavy. Dannyâs back says âthanks.âÂ
âOof,â he says.Â
Max rests his forehead against the side of Dannyâs cheek. âItâs impossible, Daniel. It couldnât have been.â
âBut it was, mate. I could pick you up without trying. Two of you.â It was the scariest moment of Dannyâs life. But he hasn't been telling Max about that part, yet. For now, the meal theyâve just madeâ a scrambleâ is already eaten, plates sitting empty by Maxâs hip. They have a full day of racquetball ahead of them, and maybe some time with friends in the evening. There is no Jos, today. Delicious.Â
Max has been awfully quiet.Â
âWhatâre you thinking about?â Danny asks, putting his nose in Max's hair.Â
âUnfair, I think.âÂ
âWhat is?âÂ
âSmall Max."
"Why?"
âHm. There was so much of you to him. You would be so big.âÂ
Danny smiles at his husband who maybe likes being small.Â
âNothing to be jealous of, Maxy,â he says, leaning in to kiss his neck. âNothing to be jealous of at all.âÂ
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
timezone, exchange student!shotaro x japanese major!reader
! angst, taro is an asshole
you fidget nervously with the string of your hoodie and check once again the time on your phone. it's really happening, you're about to meet him. around you, your classmates are happily chatting about what's to come.
today you're meeting shotaro. it's been months since you chose him as the student from japan you would exchange letters with during your classes. your first letter felt awkward, the characters on the paper didn't look the best and you were sure the person on the other side would probably not even reply. osaki shotaro. that's all you knew about him when that letter got carried away from your university to his.
when your teacher shared that the letters from japan arrived to your school, you felt nervous and excited, you wanted to hold the paper with your name written on it and discover more of the student you're exchanging words with. shotaro's letter was a bit hesitant but his handwritting was pretty, round letters drawn on the paper.
shotaro told you about his economics major, and his english classes that were the reason he got to write to you. he told you about his friends, his love for sport and dance, his younger siblings he teases all the time, his favorite restaurant close to the university... it was simple sentences, yet you could tell he was excited to share little details with you.
from letter to letter, you felt like you were getting closer to shotaro. you started sharing your daily worries, some trouble you had with your classes or how much you missed your family. even though it took days for shotaro's reply to arrive, he would always be reassuring. you both got better at each other's language, making the communication much easier.
you started looking forward even more to your japanese language and education classes, just to feel your heart flutter when you see the teacher bring the infamous box full of envelopes. it felt nice that someone completely outside your country, that you had no strings or connection with, cared for you.
when you came home after a long day once, you found a letter silently sitting in front of your door. it took you a second to recognize shotaro's pretty handwriting on the piece of paper, your name beautifully written in black ink. and that's when things started to go down.
in this one letter, shotaro not only told you how much he wanted to talk more with you, he also gave you his number and social medias, and anything that you could contact him with. you felt like your heart was going to explode in millions of fireworks while going through his instagram pictures and seeing his pretty face.
it took you a day or two to gather the courage to message shotaro. he sounded as nice and happy in the texts on your phone as in the letters you got every few weeks, and you felt even warmer when talking to him. through the official communication in your classes, you and shotaro played innocence, as if you were not calling him in the middle of the night when the both of you were available.
months went by, and now you are anxiously waiting for his familiar face at the entrance of your university campus. yours and shotaro's teachers decided to plan an exchange trip, allowing their japanese students to stay and study at your university for a few weeks. it took more time to organize than you thought, but both you and shotaro excitedly talked about it everyday.
you check the last text you got from the japanese student, a picture of him and his classmates in the plane seats, ready for take off. it was hours ago, and the only thing you have in mind is how slow the time is ticking. they should be there any minute, but seconds felt like forever.
when finally you hear loud chatters, only catching a glimpse of japanese words in the conversation, your eyes quickly wandering over the unknown faces. you almost miss shotaro, with his cap hiding his eyes, but it's his smile that you saw so often when facetiming him that you recognize. the japanese teachers introduce themselves and your classmates greet the group with shared excitement.
you watch as your friends call for the names of the person behind the letters, discovering each other at the same time. shotaro takes off his cap and look right at you with the same gentle smirk on his face. you can feel your cheeks burning when you walk up to him, lifting your eyes up to meet his.
"hi."
"...welcome shotaro."
"is it not just 'taro' anymore?"
you look down and you hear shotaro chuckles, his hand patting your shoulder. his voice is much lower than you remember, he's also much taller than you imagined. you are too shy to admire his face, but you caught a glimpse of his newly done piercings on his ears and the metal rings on his fingers.
you walk next to shotaro to your classroom, the large auditorium feeling much more alive now that the japanese students joined. you sit down at one of the shared desk and shotaro drops himself on the chair next to yours. you can feel his eyes on you, tracing the features of your face, but you try your best to ignore it and focus on the teachers.
you don't care much about the exchange students' class planning, all you want to know is when you'll be able to finally talk freely with shotaro for the first time face to face. you feel shotaro shrugs next to you, his shoulder hitting yours when he leans closer to whisper in your ear.
"you're not doing anything after this right? you're free for me?"
your throat is dry when you swallow and just nods to the japanese student next to you that smile at your reaction. the introduction of the exchange couldn't end soon enough. shotaro leans back into the chair and lets out a satisfied sigh. he couldn't wait.
you are free from your university class. you walk in silence next to shotaro, on the way to your student dorm. shotaro kept telling you how tired he was from the travel when you were having lunch together and the dorm for him and his classmates were not open until the evening so he had nowhere to go. being a good friend, you told him to come over, but you're starting to feel nervous about it. what if your room is a complete mess? you can't remember how it looked when you left in the morning.
you finally feel comfortable enough next the tall student to talk with him freely like you usually did on long calls or through texts at any time. shotaro is more serious and calm that you expected, but it's the perks of finally meeting someone in real life, it's not always the same. you open the door of your room and thank yourself for cleaning it. shotaro looks around with a smile, he finally discovers the room he only saw on facetime calls.
"it looks all the same, except it's real now."
"it is... it still feels weird i can't believe you're really here."
"did you believe i was not real?"
"no it's not that taro i just... never really thought we would get to meet so fast..!"
"me neither... but i'm very real you know."
shotaro's words catch you off guard and you only look back at him when you hear his backpack drop on the floor. shotaro comes closer to you, his hand gently playing with a strand of you hair before tucking it behind your ear. you can feel your heart stop with each breath.
"i can prove i'm very much real if that can help you believe..."
you have no idea what he has in mind until you feel his hands cup your cheeks and give you an experimental kiss. his lips feel warm against yours, you grab his wrist in your fingers feeling your knees tremble. your mind races with thoughts and the butterflies in your stomach are flying everywhere. shotaro cut the kiss and you feel his breath hit your lips, his eyes deep into yours looking for any kind of answer to his actions.
this turn of events is not the one you expected but it's not like you are going to complain. you can't count all the time you thought telling shotaro about the fluttering feeling you felt each time you heard his voice in a phone call or saw his smile in pictures on social media. right now is the best way to tell him. your arms find a comfortable place around his neck and shotaro presses his lips against yours again in a more eager kiss.
one of shotaro's hand grip your waist, his lips moving perfectly in sync with yours, getting more desperate each second. he pushes his tongue inside, fingers tangled into your hair and he drags you closer to his body. you part away from his lips and look at the string of saliva still connecting the both of you. everything about shotaro has you addicted, from his scent to the feeling of his hand wandering under your hoodie, the look in his eyes and his pretty lips swollen from the heated kiss.
"is it more real to you now?"
"taro... i wanted this for so long..."
"let's keep going then."
shotaro backs you down your bed, still holding your waist when you lay down in the middle of your pillows. he climbs on top of you and crashed his lips on yours in a heavy kiss, devouring your lips completely. he shamelessly presses himself against you, finding his place between your legs and he drags his mouth down your neck, sucking spots on your skin that has you moaning softly. you push your fingers into his hair and let him bite on every little bit of skin he wants.
you feel shotaro's hands travel under your hoodie, his nails going over the curves of your waist and he's quick to push the clothes over your head. he has your chest fully exposed only for himself to see and he lowers his lips to put open mouth kisses down your chest. his fingers massage your hips, digging into the skin.
you tug on the sleeve of his sweatshirt and shotaro gets the hint, sitting on his knees to take off his top. you admire his toned chest and the swift muscles of his shoulders, shotaro smirking at your eyes traveling his body. it's not your first time seeing shotaro's chest, you had seen it on some of his friends' instagram pictures when he went on holidays -no it's not stalking you convinced yourself, you were just trying to know him better-. but now that he's in front of you, you don't remember if you ever felt this hot in your stomach when you saw those pictures.
shotaro goes back to his initial place, he captures your lips in another kiss and presses his chest against yours, his skin providing a comfortable warmth. his body is so hungry for yours, the pace of his lips and the slight grind of his hips make you lose your mind, your hands wander on his back.
shotaro is not as out of breath as you are, maybe he isn't feeling as hot as you? the way he grinds the obvious bulge in his black sweatpants against yours inner thigh say otherwise... shotaro hands fumble on the button of your pants, dragging it down your legs and you catch his wrist. the soft smile he gives you is enough to quiet your nervous heartbeat and shotaro finishes stripping you naked for him.
he pulls down his sweatpants and underwear impatiently and drags slowly his hand over his cock, just gasping at the sight of you. you watch him jerk off, precum dripping from between the tight grip of his fingers around the dick. the low groan that leaves his lips make yourself grow even hotter and you squirm on the bed for any kind of attention.
"i'll make you feel good now i promise."
shotaro lets out a low chuckle and push his free hand down your thigh to part you legs wider, positioning himself for what's to come. he slowly rubs his cock against your folds, his tip teasing your entrance so deliciously it could have you crying his name. shotaro pushes entirely himself inside and grab your thighs to get even deeper.
shotaro loses any kind of self control he had the second he's inside of you. the way your walls flutter around him, the way you're so tight just enough for him to fit in, the way your back arches just because he's so deep. he rolls his hips slowly eliciting a loud moan from you and it only encourages him to go harder. he thrusts inside you at a quick pace, stretching you even more at every move.
he bends down to burry his face into your neck, both his hands reaching the behind of your thighs to push them apart. the sound of his hips crashing into yours and the bed hitting the wall each time he's deep inside your core has your head spinning. you grab his shoulders, your nails dig inside his skin. you hear him groan in your ear but he bites down on your neck to silence himself and soon you can only hear his heavy breathing.
shotaro grind his hips into yours expertly, he reaches point so deep inside it has your eyes rolling back into your head. you mumble his name over and over again through whines. one harsh thrust has you crying, your lips parted in a silent moan and your head thrown back, allowing shotaro to spread kisses on your throat.
shotaro goes back to his initial position, grabbing your hips, completely still inside, only pushing himself further. he rolls his hips extra slowly with a grin on his face and watch you fall apart. he loves to see the way you grab the sheets beneath you and how his name drips from your swollen lips, he wants to see the tears in your eyes until you can't keep your eyes opened.
shotaro's hands reach for your leg that he drags over his shoulder, now pounding into you and gripping your skin. the new angle has him reaching so much deeper inside, he abuses the same spot inside of you that makes you see stars. you're only cries and moans, you just can't handle this much pressure and the tight knot in your stomach could burst any second.
shotaro knows that. one of his hand reach between your legs and his fingers rub your folds at a quick pace, enough to make your legs shake. a long whine escape your throat as your orgasm hit, shotaro pushes you over the edge again and again with deep thrusts of his hips. you body feels tired and sore, your eyes barely flutter open to watch shotaro quickly fisting his cock, his hips stuttering and curses falling from his lips.
shotaro gets closer to you as he cums, the thick fluid hitting your chest and dripping down the skin of your stomach. shotaro pumps himself empty and sit back on the bed, his chest heavily rising and falling at the speed of his breath. he comes close to you and kisses your temple, you can feel him smile against your skin and it gives you the comfortable warmth you always felt when you talked to shotaro.
"thank you."
shotaro chuckles in your neck and press your body closer. you don't understand why he's thanking you, is it because it was good? or because he's happy to be with you? your mind wanders away and soon you can only think about shotaro's quiet breathing and his arm around your waist.
two weeks. it's all that was given to you and shotaro to be together. for now. and it's like you were glued together, sitting next to each other in class, eating together, going out together. you don't think his classmates have seen shotaro once in the exchange students dorm since he's been staying with you every single night since the first day. you could only swear it now, you are so deeply in love with shotaro.
you would say the way shotaro loves you is the same as yours, just hornier. the japanese student uses your time efficiently, and you wouldn't really complain. you sucked him off under the table in class, he had you riding him during a particularly long lecture, you made out on the teacher's desk in the late evening, and you believe he bent you down on every surface of your tiny room. each time was better than the previous one, you grew addicted to the feeling of him inside of you and you loved to see the red marks covering your chest in the mirror.
the last day, you felt heartbroken. shotaro was going to be so far away again, and it's not like any of you can afford to meet anytime soon. but shotaro was just giggling the whole day, always holding your hand, and you couldn't get yourself to be as sad as you felt on the inside.
shotaro kissed you goodbye in front of everyone, earning stupid noises and laughs from his japanese classmates. you can still remember the taste of his lips on yours. the second the bus drove away down the street, the tears filled your eyes and you knew it was going to be even harder than you imagined.
it's been 10 days since you last heard of shotaro. he messaged you when the plane landed, telling you he's heading home now, and after that, silence. no one in your class had news about him, and you started to get really anxious. maybe something happened? maybe something went wrong?
you found his instagram empty. all the pretty pictures of the sky or food disappeared, only his name on his profile could be read. you wander through his following to check his friends' instagram like you used to do when you started talking together. most of the profiles were private, but you recognized some of the exchange students on pictures.
you finally found a photo that was taken at shotaro's university. it was shotaro's class, with some of their friends, a large group of people smiling for the camera. you weren't sure if shotaro was on the picture. you read the caption without thinking much about it, and slide to the next picture. this time you recognized shotaro almost immediately and your heart drops.
he's kissing someone and it's obviously not you. you read the caption again, your heartbeap ringing loudly into your ears.
"our dear friend that won our months lasting bet, thank you for treating us so well~~"
tears filled your eyes as you read the sentence over and over again, checking the picture as if shotaro was going to disappear from it, and it was all going to be a lie. he was going to message you and tell you everything is wrong. he'll tell you he loves you. though he never did.
the picture shows a random account is tagged on it, and you click on the profile. its private, but you can see his mischievous smile and the cap hiding his eyes on the profile picture. it can only be him, but you don't want to believe that. you read the japanese characters written on the account. 性ćŽć°ć€Șé. this time you can't lie to yourself.
"osaki shotaro."
sorry this was mean i loved writing it đââïž
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
[9] âą WHY DO YOU HATE ME? - H. KAI
skater!bully!huening kai x loner!junkie!reader
plot: working alongside your ex-best friend, who's also a full-time asshole, turns hot after a heated conversation... | wc: 3.9k | cw: angst, mentions of death and suicide, drug and alcohol abuse, other sensitive topics, smut
From your point of view, life continued for three reasons;
1. For your familyâŠthe only friends you had.
2. Another episode of you current obsession, and
3. The next cigarette...or cancer stick as your next door neighbor liked to call it.
Sometime your third reason helped you the most. One puff relived the stress and every one after that made life a little easier. Oftentimes, smoking was like an escape for you. A way to cope with the shitty hand the universe had dealt you.
You lived in a cheap apartment. And all of the money you made was split between you and your parents. There was a shared belief in your family that the children should take care of their parents when they move out. Assisting in whatever way they could.
This belief is what compelled you to send money to your family. It wasnât a burden. You knew that if you ever needed a place to stay that you were always welcome back home. The only problem being that you couldnât shake your smoking habit. And that was the reason you had to go in the first place.
You seen all the stupid YouTube videos about what happens to your lungs when you smoke and how much money you could save if you werenât buying packs of cigarettes weekly, but none of that mattered to you. After the death of your only friend near the end of senior year, life seemed almost impossible.
Meaningless and empty without Eve by your side.
You held onto those three reasons because everything in you wished for one more day with your friend. Just one more day to tell her how much you loved her. And at this point, the sweet taste of death was the only thing separating you from her.
You grew up as an only child for most of your life. By the time your mom had your little brother, you were already 14 years old. Around that time you met Eve.
You had just started high school and up until freshman year, you were known to be a loner.
You walked into your first class of the day, sitting in the chair furthest to the back of the classroom and thatâs when you met her for the first time.
âIâm Eve,â she smiled, extending her hand to you. The two of you were like complete opposites. She was warm, cheery, and full of life. You on the other hand felt like the world had been against you since birth.
One more detail about Eve is that she was a huge chatterbox. Since the two of you rode the bus together, you never felt alone. The darkness that was your life felt a little brighter with her around. Even your mom noticed the positive change in your behavior.
âYou sure look happy,â your mom raised her brow as you looked at your phone.
âYeah, I met this really cool girl at school today. Her name is Eve,â you smiled.
âWell maybe you should invite her over sometime. Anyone that can make you smile like that must be really special.â
And she wasâŠEve was really special to you.
You could talk to her about anything. She wasnât just an expert at talking, she was also a great listener. Sometimes her advice wasnât the best, but you were both kids at the time.
You just wish that she wouldâve talked to you the day beforeâŠshe killed herself. You always blamed yourself for her death. There had to have been a sign that she was hurting, but maybe you were too selfish to see it.
You had both started senior year together and all you ever talked about were how the two of you would move out together and graduate from the same college. You saw a life with herâŠand all of that was over in one night.
You think about it every day. What makes it even worse is that your co-worker is the biggest asshole youâd ever known.
You were never brave enough to stand up to him. Maybe because you felt like the fight just wasnât worth it. But he knew Eve too. The three of you were friends before her death. Your past friendship is probably another reason why you wouldnât speak up.
When you really think about itâŠa lot changed after she died. You started smoking and Kai seemed to hate you for no reason.
You never knew whyâŠ
âYouâre locking up tonight,â he said as he slammed the cash register.
âWhat?!â
âYou heard me,â he spat, turning to you. âYouâre locking up tonight because Iâm heading out early.â
âAre you fucking kidding me? I have a life too yâknow.â
âDo I look like I care?â You stared at him blankly before he continued, âExactly, just do what the fuck I told you,â he swatted his hand before walking to the back to grab his things.
âYou canât expect me to do all of this by myself,â the gas station you worked at was extremely understaffed and you two were often the only ones at work.
âYou can handle it,â he leaned down, picking up his skateboard before heading toward the front door.
âThis is so fucked up,â you slammed you hand against the counter. âYouâre such a fucking dick,â you mumbled, rolling your eyes.
âYou know whatâd be really fucked up?â He asked softly walking back over to the register. âIf you had a little accident at work,â he tilted his head to the side. âItâd be pretty hard to come to work if you slipped and hurt yourself. Wouldnât it?â
You lowered your gaze, afraid to say something stupid and not in the mood to hear anymore of his threats. You knew better than to push himâŠheâd done a number of things to torture you.
You thought back to the one time he took your phone and locked you in the storage closet over night because you wouldnât stay after hours and wax the floors.
You watched as he walked out with his skateboard tucked under his arm. You sighed deeply, striking your lighter as you lit your cigarette.
You parted your lips, letting the clouds of grey smoke fill the air as you took out the trash before turning off all the lights and locking up for the night.
Without Eve your life felt like Groundhog Day. A continuous, endless, hell-like loop of waking up, clocking in, and clocking out to do it all over again. The most diversity you had in your life was a new assignment.
Oh and to make life even better, Kai went to the same school as you. A cheap community college where you could earn your associates before taking out student loans to get your bachelors.
Sometimes you wondered if life ever got any better from hereâŠ
A few days later, you were working the cash register with Kai when he decided to take his break in the middle of the 12 oâclock rush. âPerfect,â you sighed sarcastically. âJust fucking perfect,â you rolled your eyes as you prepared yourself to deal with the line of customers that had wrapped around one of the aisles.
âYou should smile more often,â a man smiled. He looked to be about 40 or 50.
âExcuse me?â You asked, wondering why he would even say something like that.
âIâm just saying,â he shrugged pulling out a $20. âLife is beautiful. Thereâs a lot to smile about.â
âRight,â you scoffed.
âYou should try it sometime,â he smiled as you handed him the receipt.
âMâkay,â you shook you head, wanting nothing more than for him to just take his shit and leave.
âThank you so much sir for pointing that out,â Kai came out grinning ear to ear like the fucking Cheshire Cat.
âYouâre welcome. I just know how much a smile can change the working environment for everyone.â
âExactly,â Kai nodded. â____, I donât wanna have to write you up for this because I know how much you need this job. But youâre gonna have to change your attitude.â
You sighed as you rubbed the spot between your eyebrows. Another detail that you hated to remember and often forgot was that Kai was your managerâŠand the reason you got this job in the first place.
Ironically you started working here during your last year of high school. You planned to earn some money for college to give you a bit of a head start, which only somewhat worked out in your favor.
To be honest, the pay here was pretty good and better than any other option. You assumed this had a lot to do with the low staff.
Anyways, you were hoping that Kai was only joking about writing you up until you were called into the office for a staff meeting on Friday.
âLook, ____. Weâre already very low on staff as Iâm sure you know. And itâs hard to keep customers coming back if youâre out there looking like you want a bullet in your head,â the owner said, folding his hands.
âThatâs probably because I do,â you mumbled to yourself.
âAll Iâm saying is, try to look at least somewhat pleasant. You donât have to go overboard, just be natural, okay?â
âYeah, okay," you shook your head as Kai sat next to you.
"Thanks again, Kai. I really appreciate you for bringing this to my attention. I've been noticing a decline in customer reviews and now I know why."
"No problem," he smiled giving you a look that made you wanna knock his teeth out.
Kai closed the door to the main office as the two of you walked down the hallway.
âI canât believe you actually fucking ratted me out,â you spat.
âIâm only doing whatâs best for theââ
âDrop the fucking act,â you sneered. âWe both know you donât really give a damn. Because if you did I wouldnât be locking up at night by myself. Youâd be there helping me out and not somewhere just jerking off. Yâknow what? Maybe I should go tell the boss about what youâre doing since weâre in the bitching business,â you turned around, but just as you tried walking away Kai grabbed your arm, pulling you back and throwing you to the ground.
âDonât be such a stupid fucking bitch,â he spat.
âYou did the same thing to me,â you brushed yourself off as you stood to your feet only to be pushed back down to the ground.
âIf I were you Iâd quit while I was ahead,â he knelt down.
âIâm tired of you treating me like shit, Kai. I donât know what your fucking problem is, but I didnât do anything to deserve this.â
âIf you really believe that youâre even dumber than I thought you were.â
âFuck you,â you spat, looking him dead in the eye. You donât know what came over you, but you had never been brave enough to stand up for yourself.
âIâd watch my tongue if I were you,â he pressed his forearm against your neck. âKarma can be a real bitch yâknow,â your eyes watered as he held you against the wall. You felt weak and powerless against him and you hated it, but there really was nothing you could do about it. Or at least thatâs how you felt.
Your bottom lip quivered as he slowly let you go. You sucked in your breath, catching a tear with your sleeve before running off to the bathroom. You cried in there, more than you had in a really long time.
And that evening, after closing early, you smoked through a whole pack. You were on the last one as Kai was walking back to the store. You assumed heâd forgotten something inside as he unlocked the door.
Catching the sight of you, smoking behind the register, he walked up and slapped the cigarette out of your mouth, casting ashes across the floor. âWhat the fuck?â You spat, picking up the bud before sticking it back between your lips.
âYou know that shit could kill you right?â
âI already feel dead,â you hummed, pulling out your lighter. âThis is the only thing that makes me feel alive,â you continued, striking the lighter.
âWell you can die on your own time,â he snatched the cigarette out of your pursed lips. âI donât wanna be the one cleaning up after your corpse when your lungs collapse.â
He looked in the small trash can underneath the register where he saw more than 15 burnt buds and an empty packet. âDid you smoke this whole pack?â
âObviously,â you rolled your eyes.
âAre you trying to kill yourself?â
âYou wouldnât care anyway. You obviously hate me.â
âDonât let me catch you smoking again,â he spat.
âYouâre not my fucking dad. You canât tell me what to do,â you reached to try and get your last cigarette back as he shoved you into the counter, putting the bud out on the countertop beside you.
âNext time itâll be your hand,â he sneered. âNow, clean this shit up and get this disgusting fucking smell out of here,â you forcefully wiped the tear from your eye as he walked away. Grabbing whatever he needed before walking out again.
Sometimes you wondered if this was why Kai always messed with you, because he got a kick out of seeing you cry.
As sadistic as it sounded, it couldnât be any closer to the truth which you learned later that week one night when Kai told you to close by yourself again. The only difference was that he was somewhat tipsy at this point.
He had been drinking a lot more after the altercation you had in the hallway. You wondered if it was because he felt guilty, finally seeing the error of his ways.
âCan you at least take out the fucking trash before you go?â You spat as he walked to the back putting his stuff away. âPlease,â you threw your hand up.
âIf I do it will you shut your big fucking mouth?â
âYes,â you rolled your eyes. He was in an even pissier mood when he drank, but surprisingly he was more useful. Heâd do almost anything you asked him to do as long as you bitched about it enough.
âThank you,â you smiled as he mumbled to himself throwing two bags over his shoulder, and dragging another two out the back door with him.
You heard bottles clanking outside as you shut down the register. Another loud crashing sound shook you up as you called out Kaiâs name. You were feeling a bit annoyed at this point. âI donât even make that amount of noise when I take out the trash,â you sighed.
More noises and no reply from Kai led you to go outside and check on him yourself, leaving your phone in the counter. âWhat the hell are you doing out here?â You spat as you saw him throwing glass bottles against the wall with bloody hands.
âKai! Stop it!â You shouted as he shielded his ear with his shoulder.
âCan you stop fucking yelling at me and just go back inside,â he rolled eyes, launching another bottle at the wall.
âNo because after youâre done fucking around like a jackass Iâm gonna have to come out here and clean this shit up.â
âNo youâre not,â he hummed.
âYes I am.â
âNo youâre not,â his words slurred together at this point.
âYes. I am.â
âNo youârââ you ripped the bottle out of his bloody grasp.
âYouâre way too fucking drunk right now. Just get the hell out of here and go home already.â
âWhere are you going,â he asked sounding slightly frustrated.
You started to walk back inside, âIâm gonna go get a broom to clean this shit up,â you sighed. âSomeone has too,â you reached your hand out to open the door only to jump, quickly turning around after hearing rapid footsteps approach you.
Kai had pinned you against the door, slamming it shut as he held another bottle in his hand. He broke it beside you head and held it to your neck. âIf you scream Iâll cut your throat open right here,â he slurred.
âGet off of me you drunk bastard!â You yelled, squirming in an attempt to free yourself from his grasp. He slapped you in the face with his bloody hand before clenching your jaw.
Tears filled your eyes as you stamped your feet against the ground. You beat against his chest as your arms were stuck in one position. âKai!â You cried. âStop it! Please,â
âWhy should I? Youâre not my mom,â he pressed against you harder, crushing your hands beneath his weight.
âWhy do you hate me?â You choked on tears as you couldnât hold them back anymore.
âShh!â He put a bloody finger against your lips.
âNo, I want you to tell me why you hate me so much. It doesnât make sense. We used to be friends beforeâŠbefore Eve killed herself,â it was silent for a moment as Kai lowered his head, he body started to tremble as a tear dropped from his face.
âShut up! Shut up! Shut up!â He shouted repeatedly slamming your body against the metal door, dropping the broken bottle.
âYouâre hurting me, Kai! Stop it!â You yelled as you felt a pain tugging at your bones. âPlease,â your voice shook.
He rested his hands on your shoulders before falling to your knees. âIâm sorry,â he whispered. âGod, Iâm so fucking sorry,â he cried.
You knelt down and lifted his teary face. âItâs okay, Kai. I miss her too,â you sniffled before wrapping your arms around him.
He pulled away gently, looking up at you with teary eyes. âIâm really sorry, _____,â he apologized. âIâve been such a dickâŠâ
âAnd I donât even understand whyâŠâ
âDâyou remember the day before Eve died?â
âOf course I doâŠI think about it almost everyday.â
âWhat if I told you itâs my fault sheâs deadâŠâ
âWh-what do you mean?â
âShe called meâŠâ
âShe did?! Why didnât you ever tell me? What did she say?â
âI didnât know how to tell youâŠbut she told me to be happyâŠâ
âI donât understand. Why did she say that?â
âDid you ever notice how she was around you? Like the way she behaved. Did she ever seem like she liked you as more than just a friend?â
âI-uhhâŠI never paid attention to it.â
âYeah well she really liked you, but when she found out I liked you too, she started to back off some. Things really took a turn for the worse when her parents heard us arguing one nightââ
âWhat were you arguing about?â
âShe had started hurting herselfâŠâ
âLike cutting?â
âYeahâŠand I guess it didnât get any betterâŠI shouldâve told someone,â he said softly as tears trickled down his cheeks.
âYou canât blame yourself for that.â
âBut if I wouldâve told someone she might still be hereâŠâ
âWe donât know that for sure.â
âIt couldâve helped herâŠshe also called me a few nights before she died and told me that her parents found out about her crush on youâŠI donât really know howâŠbut they did and she was really upset about that. Do you think her parents are the reason she killed herself?â
âWe canât know for sureâŠshe didnât really leave us any way of knowing why. But I think you should listen to her and be happy. Just look at the way weâve separatedâŠâ
Kai looked down at his bloody hands, â____âŠâ
âYes?â
Kai cradled your face in his hands before kissing you on the lips. One kiss turned to three and the next thing you knew his lips were all over your neck as he groped your tit in his hand.
Not a single word was spoken as breathless moans took the place of speech. You grabbed his hair in your hand, untying the small bun he wore as you tousled his hair. He slipped his tongue into your mouth as he pulled you closer.
You pulled his head away as his lips fell to your chest. âWhat?â
âDonât you think this is kinda fast?â
âWe can think about that in the morning,â he hummed, kissing your neck again.
You held Kaiâs hand as he took you inside. He picked you up, placing you on the metal cabinet as he kissed you, unbuttoning his pants.
âWhat about a condom?â
âDo I look like the type of guy to just have a condom in his wallet?â
âIâŠuhâŠâ
âExactly. Donât worryâŠIâll pull out,â he shrugged as you pulled your pants down. You watched as his dick sprang out of his boxers.
You climbed back onto the cabinet, spreading your legs as he stepped between them, lining his tip up with your entrance. âNgh!â You moaned as he pushed through.
âMmm,â he hummed feeling your walls contract around him. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him as he pumped into you. He nuzzled his face into yours, bringing your lips back to his as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.
You moaned as you felt yourself coming close to finishing. You threw your head back as he sucked onto your neck. You squeezed your thighs around him, pulling him closer as you climaxed.
"Fuck," he swore.
"What?"
"I'm gonna cum," he bit his lip as he started to pull back.
"I don't care," you pulled him closer, kissing him again.
"But I thought you--"
"We'll think about it in the morning," you whispered as he pumped every drop of his hot load into you.
Everything from here became a blur until the two of you woke up in the backroom. You were laying between his legs as he rested his back against the metal cabinet.
"Shit," you spat as your eyes shot open. "We have to be ready to open in like 30 minutes," you said, scrambling to your feet.
"No way," Kai rubbed his eyes, looking up to see the analog clock on the wall, confirming what you just said.
The two of you scrambled to open up. He wiped off the cabinet from the two of you last night and you worked together to restock the coffee station and check the slushee maker.
"I'll take care of the mess outside," he chuckled, ruffling his hair. You handed him the hair tie that was wrapped around your wrist. It was the same one you took off of him last night. "Thanks," he smiled before kissing you on the cheek.
"Hey, for the record," you hollered. "Whatever happened last night doesn't change anything between us. I still hate you," you smirked.
"I hate you too," he smiled before heading out the back door.
What happened from this day on is hard to explain. It was like the two of you went back to being friends, but something else tugged at your heart aside from the memory of your dead friend. You were starting to like Kai and you could tell that he liked you too, but dating each other just didn't feel right.
As far as sex was concerned, it hadn't happened again since the first time you did it, which was about 3 weeks ago. Even though you did have the occasional makeout session that never seemed to last long enough.
Maybe there were 4 reasons why life continued for you...and he was definitely one of them.
a.n.: I wanted to add more detail to this one, but I didnât want it to be too long. Sorry if it feels rushed.
đŠđŸđđđđđ·đđ đđ¶đđđđđđŸđđ
â Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
@chlorinecake
@wonbinisbabygurl
@nishiimuranights
@wildflowermooon
@heeseungshim
@ramyeonzprincess
@bangchans-gf5
@wand3rlustm3
@heeseunghee7
@norihoyeon
@gacktsa
@hyunj00
@mimikittysblog (not sure how much you're into moody kai lol)
#kinktober#kinktober squoxle 2024#txt smut#txt scenarios#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#txt huening kai#txt hyuka#huening kai smut#hueningkai#huening kai#huening kai hard hours#huening kai hard thoughts#kai smut#hyuka smut#hyuka hard hours#hyuka hard thoughts#huening kai x reader#huening kai angst#txt angst
47 notes
·
View notes
Note
CAN YOU PLEASE WRITE A BANNER SIBLINGS STORY (LOGAN AND ASHLYN) PLEAAAAASSEEE
Logan and Ashlyn - Youâve Always Got Us
A non-romantic oneshot
Logan was used to being home alone. There wasnât a big deal about it. His grandparents own a business after all. Besides, back in the day, when they still had those jobs, he was home alone a lot more often than just every few days in a month.
And, in some ways, learning to take care of himself for so long gave him some seriously good benefits. Now he knows how to cook and clean and make sure that the house is secured.
Thereâs nothing to it. Itâs just how things are. Does he wish he has someone to keep him company? Well, ya, a sibling or something of the sort is a nice idea, but he doesnât want any other kids to get dragged into the Fields family drama.
But, today was definitely not too great. All the food that they have is expired, so he has nothing to eat. He would drive to the store, but he doesnât have a license.
So, in short, heâs screwed. No lunch, no dinner, no breakfast⊠and that continues until how many more days his grandparents will be gone.
He already felt himself begin to panic. Ya, he could ask one of his friends to help. Tyler knows how to cook, Taylor is always ready to help, Aiden canât stay out of other peopleâs business, Ben is a sweetheart, and Ashlyn feels responsible to take care of the others in the group. But Logan canât bear to be a burden. Heâs already been enough of an inconvenience for them.
He can go a few days without eating. Rationing. He did it a lot back in the day. Itâs never fun, but he can do it.
He decides to go to the couch to watch some tv, to try and distract himself. He crosses his arms and hunches up his legs, turning his brain off for a while. Easier said than done.
He glances at his phone every now and then, tempted to text his friends, tell them about his situation. But he stopped himself. But then he immediately jumped to his phone when it buzzed.
It was a text from Ashlyn to the group.
>Ashlyn: Hey, guys. My parents said that since itâs Fall Break, yâall can come over for dinner.
>Aiden: Awww!!! Ashlyn, youâre inviting us over?!?!!?!
>Ashlyn: It wasnât my idea.
>Taylor: I wish I could, but me and Tyler have to take our mom to the doctor today
>Ben: My sister is spending the night, I was hoping to hang out with her. Iâm sorry :(
>Aiden: Ash. You know I would go if I could. ButâŠ
>Aiden: I ALSO WANTED TO HANG OUT WITH MY COUSIN đđ
>Ashlyn: Geez
>Ashlyn: What about you, Logan?
Logan was startled and hesitated. This was a perfect opening. But no one else was going. Would he be intruding?
>Logan: Well, I am free this evening, but I understand if you donât want me over since no one else is đ
>Ashlyn: I really donât care. You can come over if you want.
He thinks about his response before slowly typing back a response.
>Logan: Ya, I can come over. But Iâll need a ride.
>Ashlyn: đ
He fidgeted a bit, nervous. Was he being a bother? He shouldâve just made an excuse. Oh, but the promise of dinner was enticing. He hated that he didnât regret agreeing to go. He should. Itâs just embarrassing. Heâs being such a bother.
He gets up and puts his shoes on and waits by the front door for Ashlyn and her parents to get here to pick him up.
His phone buzzes and it was a message from Ashlyn saying she was here. He steps out and sees the Bannerâs car on the driveway. He steps in and sits down.
âHi, Mr. Banner.â
âHey kid. Ashlyn, say hi to your friend.â
âHi, Logan.â
Logan awkwardly laughs. âHi, Ashlyn. Thank you for inviting me.â
âItâs no problem!â says Mr. Banner. âIâm just happy that Ashlyn actually invited her friends.â
âDad.â
âSorry, sorry.â
Logan laughs and awkwardly tugs his seatbelt. He shouldn't have agreed to come. This is so embarrassing and awkward. He can't think of any small talk.
"So, Logan," Mr. Banner says. "How's your grandparents?"
Logan felt a rush of relief. Thank the universe for Mr. Banner making small talk.
"They're doing fine. They're currently on a business trip."
"Oh? So you're home alone?"
"Yes sir."
"Well, that's perfect timing for you to join us for dinner!"
"Haha.. ya."
"We're making black-eyed pea soup! It's Mrs. Banner's specialty."
Logan nods. He's happy with that. That's definitely a comfort meal, and he needed comfort right now because he felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. Why. Is he. So. Damn. Anxious. ALL OF THE TIME!?
They pull into Ashlyn's house, the bus graveyard in the distance. It's always weird seeing it when they're not in the phantom world, despite the fact that they hang out there all the time.
They go inside and the house smells really good.
"Oh! You got him?" Mrs. Banner asks, walking out of the kitchen to greet them. "Heya, Logan. Thanks for joining us!"
"No problem, Mrs. Banner.."
"Why don't you 2 set the table?"
Ashlyn and him look at each other and she shrugs. "Ok."
They walk to the kitchen to get some silverware. "Your family is really nice."
Ashlyn raises an eyebrow. "Ya, well.. They like that I have friends now. So I think they're abusing it a little for get togethers like these."
"You consider us to be friends."
"Oh. Are we not?"
"No, no, no! That's not it! I just.. I thought maybe you just tolerated us.. me. Since we're all kind of.. forced to hang out... But.. you really consider us to be friends?"
Now it was Ashlyn's turn to be shy. "Um.. sure, I guess. Friends is a simpler term to describe what all of us are."
They pause. "Yknow.." Ashlyn says. "There's still some time until dinner is ready. Wanna go to my room to listen to music."
This catches Logan's attention. "Um.. sure."
They go up the stairs and to Ashlyn's room. "What kind of music do you listen to?" she asks.
"Oh.. I really like Beach Bunny.. You?"
"Ray LaMontagne," she responds. "I've never heard Beach Bunny."
He smiles a little. "Well, I've never heard Ray LaMontagne."
She pauses. "Song trade?"
He nods. "Ya, sure!"
They sit down on the floor and Ashlyn pulls out a Bluetooth speaker. Logan plays Nice Guys, and Ashlyn plays You Are The Best Thing.
âThatâs exactly the kind of music that I imagine you would listen to,â Logan says with a soft chuckle.
âOh?â
âYa. He has a really soft voice, so not too overwhelming. I get it. Though the lyrics were surprisingly upbeat,â he jokes a little.
She smiles ever so slightly, but hides it by resting her chin on her knee. âWell, I wasnât expecting yours.â
âOh?â
âYa. The song just.. I donât know how to explain it. I always thought youâd be more of a David Bowie fan.â
Logan smiles brightly. âI love David Bowie!â
âSo I was right.â
They let the music continue playing on and they both leaned back. âThis is a lot less awkward than I was worried it would be,â Logan says.
âTell me about it.â
âNice to know I wasnât the only one nervous..â
There was an air of understanding and solidarity between the two of them. It was nice, having someone who understands what itâs like, getting overwhelmed easily. He never thought it would be Ash, though. Sheâs always seemed⊠untouchable and far. Someone whoâd never want anyone close, especially a whiny loser like himself.
âKids! Dinnerâs ready!â
The two head back downstairs and sit at the table. The soup smelled amazing and looked amazing. âThank you so much,â he says.
âNo problem, kiddo!â Mrs. Banner says, sitting at the table.
Ashlyn already started eating, but Logan waited until everyone was seated until he started eating. Thatâs what his grandparents taught him to do.
Once everyone got to the table, he waited until Ashlyn's parents started to eat, and then he dug in himself, napkin in his lap.
"So, Logan," Mr. Banner says. "How long until your grandparents get home?"
"Oh, I'm actually not sure. These business days can go on for a while.. Especially when the weather gets colder, since the flowers are all slowly going away."
He nods, but looks a bit concerned. "So they just left you with no idea how long? When you have no license..?"
"Oh, well, it's fine. I can take care of myself, yknow."
Mrs. Banner and Mr. Banner look at each other, a bit unsure, but don't push it. "Well, how about you spend the night?"
Both Logan and Ashlyn were startled by the offer.
"No, no, no, you really don't have to! I don't want to intrude-"
"Nonsense, we'd be happy to!" Mrs. Banner says. "Only if you want to, though. No pressure."
"I-I-I.." Ya, he's been at sleepovers, but with the rest of the group. What if Ashlyn finds it annoying that it's just him?
"It's fine," Ashlyn says to him. The two look at one another, as if they were both trying to read each other's minds.
"O...k..." he says slowly. "Thank you for.. having me..."
Mr. Banner nods. "I'll let you borrow some of my clothes, kiddo. I've got a lot of old ones I've been meaning to donate. But I'm happy to lend you some for tonight."
"Thank you.. thank you so much. This is really nice of you guys."
Mr. and Mrs. Banner clutch their hearts at Logan's sweetness. "No problem. Anything for Ashlyn's friends!"
"Let's go to my room," Ashlyn says. They begin to go back upstairs, Ashlyn already taking her earbuds out.
"Are you sure you'll be ok without those?"
"You're not like Tyler or Aiden. I'll be fine."
He smiles a little at that.
"I'll set up a cot for you." Right as she was about to go and get the stuff, he stops her.
"Thank you, Ash. Really."
"Hey, man.. it's.. fine. I can't really imagine being completely alone. My parents are.. yknow.."
"Ya.."
She nods and heads off. The Banner family is so nice. He's never felt so welcomed anywhere. Not even in his own home, where his grandparents are probably annoyed with him about something, even just a little. He doesn't doubt their love at all, it's just.. it doesn't feel like this.
A family where they all chat and tease and have fun.
She returns with blankets and a blow up air mattress. She plugs it in and turns it on after putting her earbuds back in.
"Hey, Ash?"
"Hm?"
"After this.. do you want to do another song trade..?"
She smiles. "Only if you watch ballet YouTube videos with me."
This surprises Logan. "Video trades, too? Well then. Only if I can show you mythology based videos."
She nods. "Deal."
He nods back. "Thanks, Ash."
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reunited 4
Part 4
Pairing: modern!Sihtric x reader with a side story of modern!Sigtryggr x reader
Authors note: it's probably a bad idea to post it today, but fuck it ... I'm having too much fun writing this. And don't tell me I didn't warn you - it's gonna be a ride đ
.
Warnings: heartbreak, use of alcohol, very suggestive (lowkey smut)
Summary: It was supposed to be a short two week trip that turned into five long years apart, just because your best friend couldn't keep her mouth shut. Will the reader and Sihtric manage to repair their broken relationship and find their way back to each other? Or will the reader decide to stay with the handsome and talented Sigtryggr?
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Word Count: 4,1 K
The whispers started smallâa passing comment from a mutual acquaintance here, a vague mention in the industry gossip there. Gisela had done her best to shield you, brushing off any mention of Sihtric with a casual dismissal, redirecting your attention to new projects, exciting events, or people who would, in her words, "help you look forward, not back."
But eventually, the whispers grew louder, impossible to ignore.
You hadnât been looking for updates on Sihtric, but it was almost as though the universe itself had decided that you wouldnât be able to escape his shadow. It started with a model at a shoot, casually mentioning that sheâd seen him out one night, barely able to stand, clinging to the arm of someone you didnât know. The words "worse than Iâve ever seen him" lingered, simmering in your mind.
At first, you ignored it. Sihtric wasnât your concern anymore, you reminded yourself. He had made his choices, just as you had made yours. But more stories cameâdifferent people, different places, each one painting the same picture of a man who was unravelling, barely holding himself together. The Sihtric they described was a stranger to you, and yet those stories struck a painful chord deep in your chest.
One evening, as you sat across from Gisela at your favourite cafĂ©, her attempts to distract you from the topic finally fell short. Youâd reached your limit.
"Gisela," you said, interrupting her as she rambled on about an upcoming exhibition. "Why didnât you tell me?"
Her eyes widened, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. "Tell you what?" she asked, feigning innocence, though you both knew exactly what you meant.
"About Sihtric." Your voice was steady, but there was an underlying tension. "About whatâs happening to him."
She sighed, placing her cup down with a slight clunk. âI didnât think it was something you needed to hear. Heâs not your responsibility anymore. You deserve to live your life without his shadow looming over you.â
"But he wasnât always like this," you replied, voice barely more than a whisper. "I know him, Gisela. Or I thought I did."
Gisela reached across the table, her hand finding yours. "You did know him. But thatâs not who he is now. Whatever heâs become, itâs because of his own choices."
âGisela,â you said, setting down your coffee and looking her in the eye. âDo you think⊠Maybe my refusal to speak with him made things worse?â
Her brow furrowed, concern and frustration blending in her gaze. âWhat do you mean?â
âAll these stories about him⊠spiralling,â you murmured, your fingers tracing the rim of your cup. âHe just wanted to talk, you know. And I just showed him away in the worst way possible. I canât help but feel that maybe, if Iâd just been willing to listen to him, he wouldnât have ended up this way.â
Gisela shook her head, her expression firm. âYou canât think like that. You have every right to protect yourself. Talking to him wouldnât have changed anything. Heâs responsible for his actions, not you.â
You glanced away. âBut our last conversation, Gisela. I canât stop thinking about it. The way I turned him away, how angry and cold I was. Maybe I was⊠too harsh.â
âYou werenât harsh,â she replied, squeezing your hand. âYou were clear about your boundaries. You have every right to those, especially after what he put you through. Donât start blaming yourself.â
Despite her reassurance, the memory of that day lingered in your mind like a shadow. That look in his eyes, the desperation just beneath the surface, how he had struggled to find the words. And how you had shut him down, leaving him standing alone on that set, without a chance to explain himself. It had felt empowering then, taking control of the situation, reclaiming your peace. But now⊠now, you werenât so sure.
âMaybe,â you whispered, almost to yourself, âI shouldâve just listened, if only to give us both some closure.â
Giselaâs gaze softened, but her voice remained steady. âClosure doesnât come from reopening wounds, and thatâs all heâd do. Heâs gone too far down this pathâheâs not the person you knew.âÂ
Gisela squeezed your hand. âYou have every right to protect yourself. You donât owe him anythingânot after what he put you through. Heâs doing this to himself, and I donât want to see you dragged down because of him again.â
You didnât answer. Wrapping your hands around the warm coffee cup, you stared into the swirling steam rising from the dark liquid. Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?Â
That night, alone in your apartment, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Every time you closed your eyes, fragments of that last encounter on set replayed in your mind: Sihtricâs hesitant steps, the way his voice had cracked when heâd asked to talk, the look of devastation as youâd turned your back on him. Youâd told yourself it was for the best, but was it really?
You picked up your phone, fingers hovering over the screen.
Before you could think it through, you sent a message to Gisela.
"Do you think I should try talking to him? Just once?"
The three dots indicating her reply popped up immediately, and then her response followed, firm and direct.
"No. That chapter is over. Donât reopen old wounds."
You put the phone down, staring at the empty space in your living room as her words echoed in your mind. Gisela was right, of course. She had been there through it all, had seen you at your lowest, helped you pick up the pieces of your life, reminding you of who you were outside of him. But this wasnât about reopening wounds. This was about understanding. For your sake, and for his.
With a steadying breath, you made a quiet decision. Tomorrow, you would reach out, you would go to the set and talk to himânot to rekindle what was lost but to speak out, to lay the ghosts of your past to rest. Maybe it would bring peace to both of you, to let you finally close the chapter for good.Â
You arrived at the set the next morning with that quiet resolve still fresh on your mind, the familiar hum of voices and equipment doing little to settle your nerves. Today, you would finally speak to Sihtric.Â
Maybe it wouldnât change anything, and maybe it would leave you feeling just as hollow as before, but at the very least, it might ease the nagging feeling that had taken root since your last conversation. There was no script in your mind, no clear sense of what you would say. Just a need for⊠something. Resolution, maybe. Closure. Or perhaps, deep down, a glimmer of hope. What? No, shut up! You almost slapped yourself in anger. What hope?
As you waited, you glanced at the door every few minutes, each time your heart skipping a beat, only to settle back down when he didnât appear. The seconds stretched into minutes, each one adding another layer to the knot forming in your stomach.Â
You had run through a dozen different ways to start the conversation in your mind, but none of them felt right. How do you confront someone youâd once loved but had shut out entirely? What could you even say that would bridge the distance between you after everything that had happened?
You clenched and unclenched your hands, feeling more foolish with each passing minute. A part of you cursed yourself for not following Giselaâs advice, for not simply letting it go. âLeave it in the past,â sheâd said, her voice filled with quiet insistence. And yet, here you were, waiting for a man whoâd hurt you, hoping heâd arrive so you could dig into the buried pain between you both.
What was it you expected to hear? A confession, an apology, an explanation? The truth was, you didnât know. You just felt as though you couldnât move on with this weight still hanging over you, with the sense that you had played some part in his downward spiral. Was it really closure you were looking for, or did some part of you, a part youâd never admit aloud, still care for him, still believe there was something worth salvaging?
The chatter of the crew buzzed around you, but you barely registered it. Occasionally, you caught snippets of conversationâsmall whispers about Sihtric, talk of his ânew habitsâ and frequent no-shows. The makeup artist mumbled something under her breath about his inconsistency, a sigh of exasperation barely audible.Â
You stayed, doing your best to keep a composed front, pretending to focus on the tasks in front of you. But beneath the calm façade, a familiar ache simmeredâa sinking disappointment, perhaps even a touch of anger, that he hadnât shown up. You tried to tell yourself it was about professionalism, about the wasted time, the disrupted shoot, but deep down, you knew it actually wasnât. Youâd finally been ready to talk, to face the unresolved tension between you, and Sihtric had left you waiting, his absence a silent answer in itself.
As the hours stretched on and the last hopes of his arrival slipped away, the emptiness grew. The loss felt oddly profound, a quiet ache that lingered, as though something vital had slipped through your fingers, even if you couldnât name what it was.
â--------------------------------------------
Just as you finished slipping on your heels and checking your reflection one last time, a soft knock echoed from the door. You opened it to find Sigtryggr standing there, a calm, admiring smile spreading across his face as he took in your appearance. His suit was impeccably tailored, the dark fabric accentuating his tall, lean frame, and his long hair was pulled back in a way that softened his strong features.
âWow,â he said, his voice warm as his eyes lingered on you. âYou look⊠incredible. Absolutely stunning.â
A faint smile tugged at your lips as you glanced down, a little flustered by the way he looked at you. âThank you,â you murmured. âYou donât look too bad yourself.â
He chuckled, reaching out to take your hand, and his fingers were warm and steady around yours. As you turned to grab your purse, he tilted his head slightly, studying you with gentle curiosity.
âYou sure youâre alright?â he asked softly, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. âYou seem a bit⊠distracted.â
You took a breath, glancing at him before looking away, feeling the weight of the dayâs thoughts pressing down on you. âIâm fine,â you said, though the words felt weak even to your own ears. âItâs just⊠been a long day.â
Sigtryggrâs expression softened, his gaze unwavering as he searched your face. âIf thereâs anything you need to talk about, Iâm here. No pressureâjust⊠if you want.â
You felt a warm reassurance in his words, his genuine concern like a balm to your lingering unease. You managed a small smile, grateful for his presence. âThank you. Really. I⊠I appreciate it.â
With a gentle squeeze of your hand, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. âNo need to thank me,â he said, his voice low and soothing. âTonightâs about enjoying ourselves. Letâs make it a good one.â
You slipped your arm through his and offered him a small smile, feeling a comforting sense of calm settle over you. Sigtryggrâs quiet confidence grounded you, his warm presence lifting your spirits just enough to face the fashion show youâd agreed to attend with him.
The venue buzzed with energy, lights flashing as photographers captured the eveningâs best-dressed attendees. You and Sigtryggr moved through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with designers, editors, and models.Â
The night felt almost surreal, as if you were floating through it, your worries temporarily forgotten as you lost yourself in the glamorous whirlwind of conversation and clinking champagne glasses. But then you spotted him.
Across the room, Sihtric was leaning against the bar, a glass dangling from his hand, his face flushed and his eyes somewhat unfocused. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair dishevelled, and his grip on the camera strap on his shoulder was loose, like he had already forgotten that he even had it.Â
You froze as he caught sight of you, his gaze narrowing before flickering over to Sigtryggr. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but then he began making his way toward you, his movements slightly unsteady.
âIs that him?â Sigtryggr asked, catching your tension. His tone was gentle but alert.
You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away as Sihtric approached, his expression dark and unreadable. The familiar ache twisted in your chest, but you straightened, bracing yourself for whatever he was about to say or do.
âSo,â Sihtric sneered as he stopped before you, eyes flicking dismissively between you and Sigtryggr. âYou didnât waste any time, did you?â His voice was laced with bitterness, words slurring slightly as he swayed on his feet.
âSihtric, donât do this,â you said softly, hoping to defuse the situation, but he ignored you, his focus shifting fully to Sigtryggr.
âAnd youâŠâ He tilted his head, eyeing Sigtryggr with disdain. âThink youâre so much better than me, huh? Perfect little prince, sweeping in and saving the day.â
Sigtryggrâs face remained calm, though you could feel the tension in him. âI think itâs best if we all take a step back,â he replied evenly, his hand settling on your shoulder in a reassuring gesture. âThis isnât the time or place.â
But Sihtricâs eyes flashed, his face twisting into a sneer. âYou think you can just step in like I never meant anything?â His voice grew louder, heads turning as people began to notice the unfolding scene. âShe was mine, you know. Youâre just a cheap replacement.â
You felt Sigtryggrâs hand tense, but he kept his composure. âYouâre drunk, Sihtric,â he said quietly. âGo home. Letâs not make this uglier than it needs to be.â
But Sihtricâs face hardened, his expression an unsettling mix of pain and fury. Before either of you could react, he lunged forward, his fist aimed clumsily at Sigtryggrâs face. His movements were sluggish, heavy with the effects of alcohol, and Sigtryggr sidestepped effortlessly, catching Sihtricâs arm and stopping him in his tracks.
âEnough.â Sigtryggrâs voice was firm, his grip on Sihtricâs arm steady as he pushed him back, keeping his own emotions in check. âGo home. Youâre embarrassing yourself.â
The words struck Sihtric like a slap. He staggered, his face flushing with humiliation as he looked between the two of you. For a fleeting moment, you saw the vulnerability beneath his angerâthe brokenness and regret lurking behind his bloodshot eyes.
âFine,â he muttered bitterly, wrenching his arm out of Sigtryggrâs grip. His gaze lingered on you, the weight of everything unsaid filling the space between you. âEnjoy your perfect life,â he spat, his voice cracking slightly as he turned and stumbled away, nearly knocking into a nearby table on his way out.
The crowd, still buzzing with curiosity, watched him go, a hush settling over the room as people exchanged whispers and glances. You stood there, heart pounding, torn between anger, pity, and an ache you couldnât quite shake.
âAre you alright?â Sigtryggr asked, his voice steady, his hand gentle on your shoulder as he guided you toward a quieter corner, away from the prying eyes.
You shook your head, you were far from being alright. Sihtricâs words, his reckless behaviour, the way heâd looked at youâit was like seeing a stranger in the shell of someone you once knew. The man who had stood beside you tonight was unrecognisable, and yet, the guilt still clawed at you, lingering in the pit of your stomach.
Sigtryggrâs arm slipped around you, as he led you toward the exit. âLetâs get you out of here,â he murmured, his tone soft and protective.Â
You nodded, grateful for his presence and the two of you walked out into the cool night air, Sigtryggrâs hand lingering at the small of your back, guiding you with an ease that felt natural.Â
He turned to you with a soft smile. âItâs still early,â he murmured, his gaze drifting over your face. âWould you like to come to my place for a nightcap?â
As Sigtryggr's question hung in the air, a shiver coursed through you, both from the chill of the night and the deeper question his invitation held. His face, framed by the soft glow of nearby streetlights, showed only openness, yet your mind raced.Â
Your heart quickened, battling with the silent questions tumbling in your mind. What did you want this to be? Sigtryggr was unlike anyone youâd ever metâa quiet intensity wrapped in kindness, the kind of person who saw straight through you, not as if judging, but as if he truly understood. A part of you had been starving for this kind of connection, so different from what youâd known before, but was it too soon? Could you let yourself open up to someone again, let him see the parts of you youâd worked so hard to piece back together?
And then, a thought cut through the haze, sharper, clearer: What would Sihtric think if he saw you now? A pang of anger flared beneath your skin, surprising you. Why should it matter? Even more soâwhy would he care? But the questions lingered, twisting like thorns in your mind. Why did he keep finding his way into your thoughts, haunting you with his absence, even though he was gone from your life for good?
Admitting it hurt more than you wanted to acknowledge. He was gone. The reality pressed down like a weight youâd been struggling to lift. This was the perfect moment to close that door, to step into something new, to let someone else in⊠Or, you could keep waiting, letting the ghost of him drift around you, keeping everyone else at armâs length, forever just out of reach.
With a soft, steadying breath, you looked back at Sigtryggr and found him still there, watching with a quiet patience, not pressing or urging, but simply waiting. His expression held nothing but warmth, a silent invitation in his eyes that felt as gentle as it was genuine. His presence was calming, without expectation, without judgement. In that instant, the idea of stepping forward didnât seem so daunting.
Your heart lifted, and you found yourself nodding, a smile tugging at your lips as you met his gaze. âIâd like that.â
â--------------------------------------
Sigtryggrâs apartment was just as youâd expectedâfilled with art and an understated elegance that spoke to his style. Soft lights cast a warm glow over the room, and as he poured two glasses of wine, you took in the paintings lining the walls, the sketches scattered across his workspace, small glimpses into his creative world.
He handed you a glass, his fingers brushing yours briefly, sending a shiver up your spine. You took a sip, the wine rich and velvety, warming you from the inside. You could feel his gaze on you, intense yet tender, and when you looked up, the air between you grew charged, a subtle current building with each passing second.
âYou know,â he began softly, stepping closer, âI canât stop thinking about how beautiful you looked tonight. Or⊠how beautiful you look now.â
His hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering, fingers grazing your cheek. You felt your breath hitch, the gentle way he was looking at you sparking something within. Without overthinking, you leaned in, your lips meeting his in a soft, hesitant kiss.
Sigtryggr responded instantly, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss, his mouth warm and inviting. The wine glass slipped from your hand onto the table as his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You melted into him, the heat between you building, his kisses growing hungrier, more insistent.
He led you toward the bedroom, his hands never leaving you, each touch filled with gentle urgency. When you reached the bed, he paused, his eyes searching yours, as if asking for permission, making sure this was what you wanted.
You answered by pulling him down to you, and he responded with a low, pleased hum, his mouth trailing down your neck as his hands found the zipper of your dress, sliding it down slowly, his fingers grazing your bare skin, igniting every nerve.
Clothes were shed, piece by piece, until you were both exposed, bodies pressed together, skin to skin. His touch was tender yet commanding, guiding you with an instinctive rhythm that left you breathless, each kiss and caress drawing you further into the heat of the moment.
Every brush of his fingers felt like fire, igniting sparks across your skin. His hands traced a path over you with a careful, reverent touch, as though he was discovering you piece by piece, memorising every curve and every reaction. His breath mingled with yours, soft and warm, as his lips explored places you hadnât even known craved attention, gentle but unyielding.
You arched your back against the mattress and moaned loudly as he thrusted into you. Your fingers wove into his hair, pulling him closer, and he responded, his mouth tracing a path along your jaw, down your neck, igniting a trail that left you gasping, clutching him as though he were an anchor in a sea of sensation that you thought almost forgotten.
Sigtryggr moved within you with a steady, skillful rhythm, each thrust deliberate yet intense, his gaze locked on yours, simmering with a passion that left you utterly breathless. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, a loud moan escaping your lips as pleasure surged through you, erasing any lingering hesitation or self-consciousness. Whatever doubt or embarrassment youâd felt about revealing how touch-starved you were melted away, replaced by a powerful wave of heat and sensation that overwhelmed every thought, leaving you lost in the intoxicating bliss he brought with each movement.
He leaned down, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, his hands roaming over your body, igniting every nerve he touched. His touch was confident, demanding mixed with softness and careful attentiveness, his focus solely on you, on every little reaction he coaxed from you.
The pleasure inside you coiled tightly, building with each movement, each shared breath, and the way breathless moans spilled from your lips only seemed to spur him on. He responded with a low groan, his pace quickening as he drove you both toward the edge, his presence grounding you even as he unravelled you entirely.
When the two of you finally lay together in the quiet aftermath, limbs entwined, Sigtryggr pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, his hand tracing soothing patterns along your skin. The silence between you was comfortable, his warmth enveloping you as you nestled into him, feeling safe and content in his embrace. Your breathing slowed, each gentle stroke of his hand pulling you closer to sleep.Â
But as your eyes grew heavy, a familiar image intrudedâa vision of Sihtric, broken and desperate, his face etched with the same raw pain and bitterness you'd seen at the event. His haunted eyes, full of anger and longing, stared back at you, and his words echoed in your mind, refusing to fade: âShe was mine.â
â-----------------------------------------
Morning light filtered softly through the blinds, and you blinked awake, stretching slightly before noticing Sigtryggrâs arm still draped around you, his peaceful face turned toward yours. A small smile tugged at your lips as you remembered the night before, and you let yourself relax, sinking back into the moment. But just then, the sound of a key turning in the lock jolted you both out of the haze.
The door swung open, and a womanâs voice called out, her tone full of urgency and familiarity, sending a chill through you. âSigtryggr?â
You froze, exchanging a startled look with Sigtryggr, who looked just as caught off guard. She called his name again, her footsteps growing closer as she moved through the apartment and toward the bedroom. Your gaze flew to Sigtryggr, wide-eyed with surprise, but before either of you could speak, a young woman appeared in the doorway, her eyes landing on you in bed with him.
With a yelp, you instinctively wrapped the blanket around yourself, heart racing as the reality of the situation hit you.
âStiorra,â Sigtryggr started, his tone a mix of apology and guardedness as he sat up, tugging at the blanket to cover himself too.
#sihtric#sigtryggr#sihtric x reader#sigtryggr x reader#the last kingdom#the last kingdom fic#sihtric fic#sihtric x you#modern!Sihtric#modern!Sigtryggr#sigtryggr x you
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
that type of person who you think you'd be friends with in every universe - expressed through jim & corey - id/transcript in alt text
so this is a kind of not-so-surprise for my friend @sinclarsupremacy , bc they were the first person i showed this two and was on the phone with me the whole time while i made it. didn't give a single thing away until everything was scanned and done. five dead pens and one reliable sharpie later, i show him this. wanted to get used to drawing the slipsour guyz more but also wanted to articulate something i have troubles saying to important people. this is kind of an ode to all my close friends ive made who i definitely wouldve hung around some graveyards with, and an ode to some bands i didnt know id like as much as i do đ«¶
#corey taylor#jim root#also based on that one jim page where they called him the 'group ghoul' and talked about how hed get nightmares#of a flaming head telling him he was gonna burn in hell#ill tell you one thing. having dorks like nate in my life wouldve saved ME some melodrama#however i am always melodramatic (eg: this very post) so maybe it just wouldve made things melodramatic-er#slipknot#stone sour#<- again purely organizational i dont wanna step on anyones toes#artings#nate tag#dunno if i should tag this as#rpf#but considering this is a story ive growth'd from my dome. fictional retellings of irl doofuses & whatnot. whateva#prolly gonna go on a sideblog soon. you know how it goes#also im sorry jimberly i made you have the silhouette of a yugioh character#if this is rpf in the traditional sense call it the au where jim and corey are able to shoot the breeze like this#in a way that isnt insanely passive aggressive or terribly jokey or downright explosive. yknow how they be#drinking game: take a shot each time jim says yknow or coreys fucking HAT deteriorates in quality#tell your friends that you would be friends in every universe
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
worst trope is found family separating as soon as the antagonist is dealt with.
#yes this is about voltron and it's also about guardians of the galaxy#what james gunn did to gamora in GOTG3 is criminal#i understand why they did it but to end with her GOING BACK TO THE RAVAGERS?#fail end.#seriously#and it doesnt even make sense bc ofc the high evolutionary isnt going to be the last problem they would deal with#in just a few years they encountered 5 people trying to destroy the universe and who were incredibly difficult foes#youre finna tell me there will never be a situation like that for the rest of their lives?#gtfo#and mantis' end was dumb too not even sorry#i can tolerate drax and nebula's ends.#but everyone else?#stupid#even peter's ending was fucking moronic. bro can pop in on the weekends he doesnt need to be a live in nurse for his grandpa#it's just such a major letdown and sucks everytime a director/author decides to split up the found family permanently#at least with voltron you can rationalize it by saying 'oh they never really wouldve hung out with eachother if they werent forced to for#voltron and werent forced to fight a war together.' and i can see it bc none of them DO hang out together before voltron#they barely even hang out AFTER they become voltron#keith and shiro hang out bc of the adoption/fostering/mentoring thing. lance and hunk MIGHT hang out bc they were already teammates#it's important to note that we never really see hunk and lance being bffs. theyre just friendly to eachother.#this becomes even more apparent once hunk and pidge actually become friends. it's very obvious hunk was just being friendly to lance.#just friendly.#(take this with a grain of salt bc ive only watched the whole series one time. i refuse to acknowledge anything after se 2.)#so yeah it does make more sense theyd all go their own ways but not even the small friend groups stay together at the end!#pidge and hunk are in completely different galaxies from eachother. same with keith and shiro#lance is isolated from all of them bc post se 3 writing team genuinely hated him and failed him as a character.#but GOTG3? they CHOSE to band together time and time again. they CHOSE to be a team. they CHOSE to be family#for every single one of them to say 'nah fuck that i want to be on my own bc uhhh reasons!' is a lame ending.#period.#gotg3
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Me through most of Boom: Wow, this is a really solid dramatic episode.
Me when Moffat needlessly sprinkles in anti-faith sentiments without specifying that itâs blind faith in bad things that the Doctor doesnât like, which makes it come off like the Doctor is just against religion generally:
#doctor who#dw critical#spoilers#dw spoilers#i get it edgelord you donât care for religion. you donât have to alienate religious members of the audience.#i at least appreciated that the doctor agreed with splice that gone and dead are different things and told her to keep the faith#but like. he immediately thereafter still tells mundy that he doesnât like faith and spent the whole episode disparaging it.#which just feels so wrong for a show thatâs supposed to be open minded about the beliefs and cultures all across the universe#i hate when writers gratuitously make the doctor take a hard and broad stance on something that he would NOT#reminds me of s8 when twelve suddenly hated all soldiers#as if some of his closest friends havenât been soldiers? brigadier? benton and yates? sara?#big difference between corrupt military and literally every soldier#the same way there is a big difference between a corrupt religious organization or individuals who use religion as an excuse for cruelty#and like. ALL faith and the idea of having a faith that you live by whatsoever.#just because his comments were aimed at something corrupt doesnât mean they werenât WAY too sweeping as if he meant it on the whole#i definitely enjoyed the bulk of the episode but that just felt like it was done in bad faith and made me uncomfortable#and i just read moffatâs comment on the thoughts and prayers thing and UGH#i get why there are circumstances in which that can feel hollow â usually if itâs coming from a corporation that could actually do somethin#but can we not villainize all the normal people who genuinely mean that with love?#people who often CANâT do anything but say prayers for you?#that IS a legitimate response and a legitimate action#someone canât physically aid you but cares to take the time to talk to the God of the universe about you and your need and plead for you#donât tell me that isnât love or that itâs not really doing anything#sometimes thatâs all you CAN do and itâs more than people give it credit for#blatant disregard and willful misunderstanding of faith like this just rub me wrong#itâs painting with a broad brush and itâs close minded#and yes iâm gonna post this. iâm feeling controversial.#my love/aggravation relationship with moffat continues#in the wise words of kira nerys. if you donât have faith you canât understand it and if you do then no explanation is necessary.
9 notes
·
View notes