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chimielie · 2 years ago

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what it is

summary: Oikawa x Reader. he makes it out of the friendzone (with some help)

word count: 1.3k

cw: nothing, oikawa in glasses

a/n: i wrote this in under an hour while heavily caffeinated?;!;!4& brain melting

“You’re late,” you say with a grin. Oikawa Tooru pouts at you, his team jacket folded over his arms. He’s already changed out of uniform, you notice; must have exchanged it for a white t-shirt and slacks in the locker room.

“I was swarmed,” he claims as the two of you start to walk together. You roll your eyes and don’t even bother making a jab about his popularity with the girls (and people of all genders, really). At this point, you’ve accepted that deranged fans come with the territory of being friends with the volleyball team captain.

You met Oikawa on the first day of your first year at Aoba Johsai and had been friends ever since. Even though you had no interest in the sport at first, his love for volleyball was infectious. He had even roped you into being the team’s manager. You still weren’t sure how he had pulled that off, but you didn’t mind too much—you’d grown to love the team and the sport too, in your own way.

Despite your closeness, you’d never really understood why he had a fan club, especially as a teenage school athlete. You expected his popularity to grow when (not if) he went professional, but the idea of swooning over some guy you had pre-calculus classes with was totally foreign to you. It was a running joke among your friends that you were immune to Oikawa’s looks and charming magnetism (and, honestly, to all four of the team’s upperclassmen. You could acknowledge how objectively attractive they all were even though none of them seemed to fit your niche).

Sometimes, you caught Oikawa making strange expressions while your friends teased you about not liking him. It felt like you were the only one who noticed these kinds of things, sometimes. You really liked being able to read him so easily: both of you had saved each other under the contact name “Platonic Soulmate” in your phones.

You chalked up the weird faces to your friend’s first-rate ego, and even though you knew that the notion of one person not being desperately in love with him wouldn’t scratch the surface of his self-esteem, you always found yourself taking his hand surreptitiously or leaning your head on his shoulder when you did see him looking mopey. He always perked up, after that, and all would be sunshine again.

Today, everyone else had bailed on you when you suggested a joint ice-cream-and-study-date before next week’s exams. Iwaizumi had claimed that Oikawa was too loud and always distracted him, so he couldn’t seriously try to study together. Matsukawa had to babysit and refused to bring the brats, as he affectionately called his siblings, to get sweets. Hanamaki had just quirked his eyebrows at you and said, “I don’t feel like third wheeling. Thanks, but no thanks.”

You hadn’t really understood what he meant, but you hadn’t questioned it.

Oikawa had almost begged off to do some solo practice, too, but you’d made a fuss about nearing the end of your high school experience and worrying that you would fall out of touch when volleyball became his whole life (even moreso than it was now!), and he’d caved with an overdramatic sigh and a soft look that told you he wasn’t all that mad about your guilt-tripping.

You’re broken from your thoughts when you reach the ice-cream shop, Oikawa jabbering in your ear about some drama you can’t keep up with.

“And then she told me—ah, I can’t read the menu. You know, they were late refilling my contact prescription this month, so I’ve been carrying around my glasses, I hate it. So unflattering.”

You worry your lip as you stare at the flavor chart, barely listening to him talk.

“I’m sure it’s,” you start, turning to him as he slides the case out of his pocket and puts the frames on his face in a smooth motion. “Um.”

The glasses are not unflattering, you think dumbly, staring at him, your sentence hanging unfinished. The glasses perch on his nose perfectly, making you appreciate, for the first time, the shape of his nose and his cheekbones. Had they always been that sharp? And since when had his eyes been so pretty, reflecting the sunlight in so many shades, framed with long eyelashes that would have made you jealous if you weren’t so—

You reach out and lift the glasses off his face slowly, hoping that the old, familiar features that you’d never felt anything but friendship-friendly feelings towards would return. You can still see it, though: the divot of his Cupid’s bow is appealing, now, his smooth skin glowing to you, his surprised expression fucking adorable. You drop the frames back onto his nose.

Very abruptly, whatever immunity you once had to Oikawa’s looks is demolished in one fell swoop.

“I have to go have a midlife crisis,” you say decisively, and march out of the shop.

“Hey! What—where are you going? You’re not even middle-aged?” Oikawa calls after you, and you try steadfastly to ignore him, but every sense seems to have been awakened to your friend. Your face flushes, and you start walking faster, nearing the pace of a jog even though your limbs are stiff.

You finally pull over in a quieter, slightly more secluded spot between two buildings. You lean against the wall, closing your eyes, trying to remind yourself to take deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa says, and you curse his long, athlete legs for having followed you so swiftly. “What’s wrong?”

You open your eyes. He’s still wearing the fucking glasses. Rest in peace, you think to yourself, surely my heart is going to give up soon, at the rate it’s going. Your lips part, but you can’t seem to get the words out. His worried gaze studies you until he finds something—exactly whatever you didn’t want him to see. A slow smile unfurls over his face, and you narrow your eyes. Ugh, how dare his smugness be attractive too, now?

“I should wear the glasses more often, huh?” He says, and you shake your head no frantically.

“Please don’t,” you say. “It’s, like, it doesn’t even matter anymore, anyway, I can’t unsee it now.”

“Unsee what?” He cocks his head, and he’s getting closer, and there’s nowhere to back away from him because you’re up against a wall—

“You’re hot!” You wail. “I saw it and I’m never gonna stop thinking it now, it doesn’t even matter what you wear, I’m doomed! This is the worst thing ever, ‘Kawa, how’m I supposed to go on… I can’t be your friend and a part of your fan club. I don’t think I can even be a part of your fan club ‘cause I don’t just think you’re hot, I think I have a crush on you—oh, my God, I have a c—”

Your increasingly frantic rambling is cut off by Oikawa sealing his lips to yours. The kiss is quick and sweet, and when he pulls away he still looks so, so handsome, and so concerned.

“Please breathe,” he says, and you nod, gaping at him in shock. “I like you too, okay? Please stop having a crisis.

“Okay,” you exhale, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “Okay. I’m still freaking out, though. I think the only way to stop it is to keep kissing me.”

Oikawa heaves a big, overdramatic sigh, and leans in, his glasses bumping your face; giving in to you, just like he always does.

#WAS this inspired by the time i saw my bf in glasses and literally went to my friend’s dorm and screamed for sixteen seconds (he timed it)#well i’m not telling. that’s a secret.#oikawa: i like you #reader (visions of oikawa in that godawful plaid outfit swimming thru their head): i think even that’s hot now. i have to get a lobotomy #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tōru x reader #oikawa fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #hq x reader fluff #oikawa x reader fluff #hq!! fluff #the word fluff doesnt look real anymore

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joelscruff · 2 years ago

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this one thing you did (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

this is totally self indulgent smut based on a night out i had. i don't usually put songs into my fic but this song was playing on said night out and how could i not include it?? anyway, enjoy 🎉 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip 💕 summary: dancing with a stranger at your favorite club leads to something filthy. (early 2000s!joel, no outbreak, no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (mdni) warnings: grinding, unprotected p in v sex with a stranger (don't do this), creampie, comeplay, dirty talk, bathroom sex word count: 3.5k

The booming bass and flashing lights are their own kind of high, regardless of how many shots you've already taken tonight. The club is your playground, bodies swaying back and forth, bare skin reflecting sweat and glitter as you playfully grind against a nameless and faceless man on the dancefloor, hips rotating to the beat of the music as he grips your hips tightly from behind. This is your favorite place.

You spot your friend over at the bar, still chatting up her date enthusiastically; she's barely danced tonight, too distracted by her handsome new friend she met last weekend. You figured this would happen; third wheeling has become a skill in and of itself for you after being single for so long, but you don't mind. She seems happy, he seems sweet, it's all good. Besides, you have other plans.

The song is winding down and you turn around to finally match a face to the hands on your body; he's cute, albeit a bit young, blonde hair and blue eyed with a goatee he should probably reconsider. He's hot though, and he smells good. The alcohol still buzzing in your body, you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, smirking playfully.

"You got plans after this?" you ask over the pumping bass, flipping your damp hair out of your face and feeling a cascade of glitter zip past your ear.

"Kinda," he replies back just as loudly, hands traveling down to your ass, "I'm at a bachelor party, we're going to another club after this," he squeezes you through your dress and smirks, "You wanna come?"

You bite your lip and your eyes dart back to your friend at the bar, still chatting it up with her new man. You've met him, got a good vibe, but you still feel uncomfortable leaving her here, even if she'd probably tell you to go on ahead. You turn back to the blonde and shake your head.

"Can't leave my friend," you shout, "Sorry, maybe next time!"

He makes a face, frustration suddenly flooding his expression, "But there won't be a next time!"

"Why?"

"It's my bachelor party," he replies, like this should have been obvious to you, "I get married tomorrow!" He squeezes your ass tighter and leans down to speak directly in your ear, "Be my last, come on."

You pull back from him immediately, yanking yourself out of his grip with disgust, "CREEP!" you yell loudly, pointing to him as people begin to turn to look at the two of you. The song has ended, a few seconds of silence granting you the attention you desire, "GET OUT, CREEP!"

"Creep!" you hear another girl call near you, "Leave!"

"CREEP," someone else calls, and soon most of the people in your general vicinity are shouting at the man to leave; he backs away, looking at your angrily as he turns around and lurches toward the front of the club to find his friends. You smile after him. That's how it's done.

The next song has already started and you feel your face light up when you recognize 1 Thing by Amerie blasting through the club speakers, the unmistakable sound of percussion reverberating in your bones as you look frantically around the crowded floor for someone else to dance with.

"That was ballsy," you hear a voice behind you, deep and southern, and you look down with surprise to see a large hand pressed firmly against your belly through your tight dress, "Wanna dance?"

"You're not married or getting married, are you?" you call back, twisting your face a bit to catch the slightest glimpse of brown hair and a beard; hot.

"Single as they come," he replies, and that's all you need.

You grind back on him immediately, loving how his grip around your middle tightens as he pushes his groin against your ass. Your dress certainly doesn't leave much to the imagination, ridiculously short and covered in silver glitter; you can feel the swell of him through his jeans and you smirk as you lean back against him and start to sway your hips to the beat.

His hands are a godsend; he knows exactly how to touch you, hands moving from your midsection to squeeze your hips, thumbing the shape of your thong beneath your dress. It's not visible but it's like he knows it's there, caressing the V of your hips and grinding himself into you a bit firmer. You feel your brows furrow, a bit taken aback by this level of intimacy; you're so used to club guys who just take what they need, view you as more of a warm body than anything else. Which is fine, it's not like you view them any different.

But the way this man dances with you is entirely new. He pulls you in closer as the song progresses, noses your hair and helps you sway back and forth. He smells good, even better than the blonde guy, a more mature and masculine scent that's musked and piney. He's big and tall too, you can tell how much larger he is than you when you lean back further and press your entire body against him, feel the broad expanse of his chest against your back.

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath, knowing he can't hear you, "That's good."

It feels almost impossible for him to hold you any closer but he somehow does, tightening his grip around you in his arms, one of the hands on your hips trailing upwards to press flat against the space between your breasts where you're bare. You look down, eyes hazy, and see the large shape of his hand firm on your chest, fingers splayed out and lightly brushing the sides of your breasts, only held up by some tape you'd applied before leaving the house.

"Fuck," you repeat, but you can't hear it, biting down on your lip in a pleasured pout and grinding back into the man even more, feeling yourself begin to throb under your dress. Almost like he can sense where you're aching, he moves his other hand down from your hip to grip your thigh, thumb tracing the innermost part gently. You shiver in his grasp.

You bring your gaze back over to the bar and are surprised to see your friend looking over at you, a wide grin plastered on her face. She mouths something and you squint to see her, making a confused face.

"He's fucking hot," she mouths again, throwing you a thumbs up, "Good job."

You feel yourself grin back at her, "Is he?" you mouth back.

She nods quickly and mouths, "He's perfect!"

You feel a flutter of pride and contentedness rise in your chest at her blessing. It's rare that either of you ever call a guy perfect, but you'd seen the hint of brown hair and the beard and hoped he was your type. You like big, tall men. Strong, ones who can take care of you, lift you up if necessary, take control. Brunettes with beards have always been your favorite. Obviously she can see that he's completely your type.

The song is winding down but you're desperate to stay as close to this man as possible, pressing back against him and closing your eyes. You feel his breath at your ear, both hands returning to their familiar spots on your hips, fingertips lightly touching your bare thighs. You suddenly want him to lift up the dress and start fucking you right there on the dancefloor; you're down bad.

You lean your head upwards a bit, trying to speak loud enough so he can hear you, but also not so loud that people in the vicinity can hear as you say, "Wanna fuck me?"

You feel him smirk against your skin, "Lead the way."

Still not turning to look at him you reach down and take his hand, the final notes of the song ringing out in the club as you lead him to the women's bathroom. You've had sex in here before, many times, so you know how to give yourself the privacy you need for the short period of time you need it.

You drag him inside the bathroom and finally turn around to look at him, grinning again when you get a good look. Oh, your friend was so right. He's perfect; tall and broad, scruffy and unkempt in the sexiest way possible. He's got brown eyes, dark and seductive, and a playful smirk that's already driving you wild. Before you put your hands on him you quickly reach down under one the sinks and grab the edge of a ridiculously heavy box with god knows what inside; no one questions the box.

"Help me put this in front of the door." you say, and he doesn't need telling twice, immediately reaching down to pull it out. You know from experience that this box is heavy, which is the whole point people leave it here to begin with. However, he seems to move it with ease, biceps flexing under his black t-shirt as he places it in front of the bathroom door.

As soon as it's in place you grab his forearm and pull him toward you, worrying your lip between your teeth as you both move toward the sinks with what's probably a pathetically debauched expression on your face.

He grins and carefully picks you up and places you on one of the counters like you weigh nothing, leaning down to plant wet kisses along your neck as he pushes your thighs apart and stands between them. Your dress is so tight that he has to roll it up a bit, leaving you sitting bare-assed on the countertop; you're definitely gonna need a shower later.

"You do this a lot?" he asks you, that southern drawl back in full force and making you pulse even more in your panties, "Seems like you know what you're doin'."

You nod unabashedly, "It's not my first rodeo."

He laughs at that, deep and rough, then brings his hands down to grip your thighs tightly beneath his wide palms, "Let's make it a memorable one, then."

You lean forward to capture his lips in a hot kiss, wet and sloppy. He tastes like whisky and you're sure you probably taste like vodka, the strong flavors mixing together as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and inches his fingers upwards to grip your thong. He tugs it down easily and keeps kissing you hard, licking inside your mouth and humming at the taste. You hear the unmistakable jangle of his belt buckle as he pulls it free, making you open your eyes and pull back from the kiss to watch with hooded eyes as he pulls out his dick.

"Knew you were big," you say with a smirk, batting your eyelashes at him, "Could feel it on the dancefloor."

He chuckles and pulls your dress up even more, leaning back to look down and assess where you're bare. He reaches down and thumbs your wet cunt, smirking when a moan immediately falls from your mouth.

"And I knew you were dripping," he replies roughly, "Could feel it on your thighs."

Fuck. You let out another moan when he quickly shoves two fingers inside without any warning; you take him easily, pussy sucking his fingers in with an obscene squelch that makes both of you groan. He pulls his fingers out and drags them along the length of his cock, mixing your juices with the precum leaking from his weeping tip.

"How long we got? Since you're the expert." He doesn't say it in a way that's shameful or disgusted; if anything he seems more turned on by the fact that this isn't new for you, shuffling forward to bump the fat head of his cock against your opening.

"Maybe five minutes," you reply quickly, gaze jumping to the closed door, "Before someone starts knocking."

You realize then that he's not wearing a condom and that neither of you have even suggested the prospect of being safe. You know for a fact there's some in that box; whether staff or people coming in and out are responsible for that, you're not sure. Regardless, you only briefly consider asking him to put one on before deciding it doesn't matter - you're drunk and horny and you want to feel him raw.

You can practically hear your friend calling you an idiot already.

You hitch your arms up around his neck and hear yourself emit a guttural moan as he pushes his cock inside you. He goes a bit slow at first, just to get you adjusted to his size, but then he's filling you completely to the hilt and you have to hold on tightly to him so you don't topple off the counter. He's so large, practically in your stomach as he starts to steadily thrust in and out, holding you close.

"Oh fuck," you whimper into his shoulder, hands scrambling for purchase against his back, "Shit."

"Yeah, that's it," he murmurs in your ear, low and seductive, "Take it."

You take it, that's for sure. It's not like you have any other choice. You're glad he can't see your face because you're sure it's twisted into a ridiculous expression, mouth agape and eyes crossing slightly as he fucks you deep. You've taken big dicks before but never from somebody who actually knew how to use it, how to drag it back and forth at the perfect speed, be sure to prod that special spot deep inside you. Your friend was right, he's perfect.

The bass of the music continues to boom outside the bathroom, muffled and echoey; you don't recognize the song but that's the last thing on your mind as this gorgeous man fucks you into a state of pure nirvana. You whimper pathetically in his ear, feeling your back bump the bathroom mirror every time he thrusts, one hand coming up to get lost in his hair.

"Fuck, you take it good," he mutters, slamming his hips back and forth and tightening his grip around your body, "Perfect pussy. You fuckin' love gettin' filled up, don't you?"

You nod into his shoulder and whimper again when he starts fucking you even faster, body practically vibrating on the counter. You pull back to look at him and find your head bobbing wildly back and forth like you're a ragdoll, completely at his mercy. You lock eyes with him and moan when you see his blissed out expression, the glitter from your face now clinging to his sweaty skin.

"Oh fuck, what a face," he groans, "You're cross-eyed, baby. I'm fuckin' you stupid, huh?"

You nod frantically again, "I-" you try to speak, voice shaky and weak as he relentlessly pounds into you without stopping, "I'm-"

He nods along with you, "I know, baby, I know," he murmurs, "Don't talk, just take that cock."

You grip him tightly again and bury your face in his shoulder. It's perfect timing because you almost feel yourself start to cry out when he starts rubbing your clit, bringing you to your release. Your legs wrap around his waist and you practically scream into his shoulder, your whole body shaking and vibrating as your orgasm takes over.

"That's it," he hisses through his teeth, clearly close to his own release, "That's it, come all over my cock."

Your pussy tightens and pulses around his thick length as you come, clit throbbing beneath the man's steady touch. You whine into his shirt as he fucks you faster, impossibly harder, the wide head of his cock repeatedly pushing against your favorite spot. It's too much and you have to bite down on the fabric to stop yourself from sobbing.

He doesn't ask where you want his come; he knows.

He fucks you once, twice, three times more before stilling inside of you and letting out a deep and rough groan, pulling back to watch your expression as he fills you up. Your jaw drops, legs shaking around his waist as you feel his thick spurts of release paint your insides. You both stare into each other's eyes with mirrored looks of pleasure, eyes hooded and dark.

"I'm clean," he says, voice breaking slightly, "Probably shoulda told you that before we started."

"It's okay," you whimper, still focused on the feeling of his cock, the way it pushes his come further inside, "I wanted it."

"Yeah, you did," he murmurs, eyes scanning your face, "You wanted it bad, didn't you?"

You nod and he leans in to kiss you. It's sweeter this time, not as hurried or sloppy, and you moan faintly against his lips when he carefully slides his dick out of you.

"Want me to clean you up?" he asks, and you shake your head.

"No," you whisper, "Wanna feel it dripping when I dance."

He groans and reaches down to pull your thong back up your legs. You shimmy off the counter, legs like jelly as you shakily stand and pull them up all the way.

"That'll keep it in there," he murmurs, pulling your dress down and patting your pussy gently through the material, "For a little while."

A loud knock at the door and the sound of a girl yelling "I have to pee!" notifies the both of you that your time is up. You watch as the man stuffs his softening cock back inside his pants and starts to do up his belt quickly, still eyeing you. He wastes no time in kissing you one last time, holding you close and trailing his fingers up and down your back.

"I gotta head home," he murmurs against your lips after a few seconds, "But thank you for this, I needed it."

You giggle and pull back to take one last look at his face, aware of the girl outside the door still steadily knocking and begging to be let in, "We should do it again."

"I'll hold you to that."

You both pull away from each other and he reaches down to move the box away from the door. Immediately a girl and a few of her friends rush inside, barely batting an eye when they see a man in the women's bathroom; this isn't an uncommon occurrence here. You leave the bathroom with him and walk with him to the exit, making sure to check the bar for your friend. She's still sitting there, lost in her own world. You smile.

"Are you sure you have to go home?" you ask once you're both outside the club, alone together on the sidewalk; the question is probably a little pathetic but you don't care.

He smiles softly, "I do, I'm sorry. I have to be somewhere early tomorrow and if I take you home..." he trails off, eyes scanning up and down your body, "Well, let's just say neither of us will be getting any sleep."

You shiver, more from his words than the cold air, but he still reaches forward to rub your bare shoulders gently, giving you some heat. It's a small and quiet gesture, but it makes your heart flutter.

"Can I get your number?" you ask, suddenly a bit shy despite the fact that you can feel his come beginning to leak out of you. He nods with a smile and you pull your phone out of the top of your dress to hand it over to him.

He takes it from you, looking down and pressing a few buttons to program his number into your contacts, then hands it back to you. You suddenly feel a strange tickle between your legs and your brow furrows.

"Shit," you mutter, realizing what it is.

"What?"

You look down at yourself and see a thick drip of his come inching down your inner thigh. He follows your gaze and makes a strange noise in his throat, taking a few steps forward and watching with dark eyes as it slowly dribbles down your leg.

"You're on the pill, right?" he murmurs.

"Yes," you whisper, still watching his release drip from you.

He pulls you into his arms one more time and kisses you long and deep, slipping his hand under your dress to gently ease some of his come back inside you. You whimper against his mouth as his thick thumb slips inside your hole and carefully pushes his release as deep as he can.

When he pulls back he tilts your chin up and smiles softly at you, eyes still full of desire as you keen beneath his touch.

"Now go dance with all that still inside," he murmurs, "I know you want to."

You're back inside the club a few moments later, skin tingling with the rush of what's happened in the last twenty minutes. You take out your phone quickly to make sure his number is definitely there, that he did it right. You feel your face warm when you see the new name listed in your contacts:

Joel.

You slip your phone back inside your dress and head for the dance floor, pushing past the gyrating bodies and the couples making out, the dudes looking for whichever girl will grind on them. Just one more song, you think to yourself. The bass booms, the lights flash, and you dance with abandon.

This is your favorite place.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #*

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rizzanon · 1 year ago

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childhood friend! Shinichiro Sano

part 1 (here) | part 2

childhood friend! Shinichiro whom you meet for the first time when you were both 8 years old at the playground, wondering why he was standing ontop of the jungle gym, looking at the distance

"Why are you standing up there?"

" 'cuz the view is nice!"

"....Weirdo.."

"H-Hey!"

childhood friend! Shinichiro whom you meet again a few weeks later at his grandfather's dojo where your parents signed you up for some taekwondo classes for self defense

"What are you doing here, weirdo?"

"Hey! I'm no weirdo! And this is my grandfather's place okay? I'm allowed to be here anytime I want!"

"Woahh, your grandfather's the teacher? That's cool!"

"I know right?!"

childhood friend! Shinichiro whom you become friends with over the next few days, watching him miserably fail to show off execute the moves his grandfather taught him to you

"HAHAHAH! You suck at this, y'know."

"Shut up! You don't have to tell me something I already know."

"At this rate, I can beat you easily in a spar..!"

"In your dreams!"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who introduces you to his only other friend, Takeomi, and the two of you hit it off very well (much to Shinichiro's dismay)

"I didn't think Shin had other friends."

T- "Neither did I, I thought he made you up."

"H-Hey! What's with this mockery!!?"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who ends up going to the same middle school and high school as you much to his delight

"You better stop slacking and start putting in effort in your studies Shin!"

"What are you, my mother?"

-smacks his head-

"Ouch! Okay, okay! I get it!"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who hates the fact that his siblings (Manjiro and Emma) love you as much as he does

"Seriously?? I can't believe you all are ganging up on me like this...!—Fake sobs—My very own siblings..."

"It's your fault that I'm just better, heheh."

E- "Yeah! She's way kinder to us that you are, Shin!"

"What?? But I'm always nice to you both too!"

M- "Plus, she always buys us our favourite snacks too!!"

"Bribery at it's finest... I can't believe this.."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who always goes to you to get treated whenever he's injured after fighting with other people

"Let me guess, you got into another fight again?"

"Ding ding ding! You guessed correct! Too bad there's no prize."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny Shin. Why don't you go and see an actual doctor to get your injuries treated?"

"Why would I do that when I have you who'll fix me up every time?"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who always goes to your class during lunch break to find you whenever he forgets to bring his own bento (was it on purpose? you don't know), knowing that you always make extra for him just in case

"Well, well, well, look who decides to forget to bring his bento for the third time this week?"

"Heheh, about that..."

"Don't worry, I made extra food for you."

"Aww, so you do care about me."

"Don't push it, Shin."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who worries that his rising reputation as a delinquent might bring down your reputation as well

"Are you sure you still want to be friends with me? I get it if you don't want to-"

"I already told you, I don't care what people think about me. What matters is what you think of me. That's all."

"...."

"Besides, who else will treat your wounds other than me, hm?"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who begs asks you to ride with him on his bike, promising you that he would keep you safe

"You want me to what??!"

"Come on...! Ride with me just this once! I promise you won't fall off."

"If I die, the blame's on you."

"Wha- You won't die! And I'll make sure nothing happens to you."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who introduces you to his other two friends in Black Dragons, Wakasa and Benkei, hoping you'd feel more reassured about him leading a gang and being a delinquent after meeting his closest friends

B- "Woah, didn't know you had a girl, Shin. Who's she?"

"What?"

W- "Let's be real, Shin can't flirt for his life."

"Hey! That's rude! I so have game."

"Game of a rock, you mean."

"Oi!"

childhood friend! Shinichiro who finds solace in you after every time he gets rejected by a girl he asks out much to your dismay (this was the 20th time)

"I don't get it. What am I doing wrong??!"

"It's simple. You're the problem."

"Rude... but seriously, why won't any girl date me? I'm certainly not that bad of a boyfriend if they gave me a chance...!"

"Well firstly, do you even have any interest in any of those girls you asked out? How do you even move on so easily?!?"

"If you put it like that... no, not really. I just want to date someone for the highschool experience y'know..!"

-smacks his head-

"Ouch!"

"No wonder no girl ever takes your confession seriously. Plus, your hair is so gelled up, no girl's gonna like that... Once a weirdo, always a weirdo."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who listens to your advice, and stops using gel as often as he used to on his hair, sometimes leaving his hair down to find out what you'd say about it

"You didn't put gel on your hair today?"

"Nope, I was kind of in a rush today, haha.."

"Well... you look... better like this, if I'm being honest."

"R-Really??"

"Yeah, keep this up and someday, a girl might accept your confession."

childhood friend! Shinichiro who tells you about the rumors he's been hearing around the school, about how many of the students thought you and him were dating and how he wasn't so opposed to the idea of that

"Wait, seriously?? People think we're dating?!?"

"My reaction exactly. I can't believe they think we're dating!"

"Not that I would mind that though..."

"Hm? What did you say?"

"??! You're hearing things, Shin. I didn't say anything at all..."

Part 2

m.list

#shinichiro sano #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro sano fluff #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro x reader fluff #shinichiro sano x you #shinichiro sano x y/n #shinichiro sano drabble #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #rizzanon

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slutforleeminho · 2 years ago

Text

I have a Suggestion • Han Jisung

Jisung has a suggestion as to how to help you with your insanely high sex drive

You would never consider yourself a slut, but the constant ache in your lower region made it difficult to keep your pants on. You discovered this in high school when you’d come home and make a b line straight to your nightstand where you kept your vibrator and some lube just in case. But you never needed it, your panties were always soaked at the end of the day. The littlest things would get your heart rate up and body burning with need, like that one time freshman year when a very handsome boy had to squeeze between you and someone else, placing his hands on your hips and slipping through the small space, rubbing his entire front against your back and his lower half against your ass. You had to run to the bathroom the relieve the pressure that was building up. And that very same boy is now someone you would trust with your life.

Han Jisung.

He was your best friend and also the only person who knows about your problem. Well it wasn’t a problem at first but it turned into one when you started to go out every Friday and Saturday night with intentions to get railed by complete strangers. And jisung didn’t like that at all. “Are you trying to get aids?” He’d asked you after the third weekend of you going out and not coming home till the morning. And then he started staying over at your place on the weekends just to hold you hostage so you could go out and fall into temptation. But little did he know he wasn’t making it any easier on you, especially when he walked around your apartment in nothing but a towel hanging lowly on his hips, showing off his toned stomach and a prominent v line disappearing underneath the material. And a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, while he walked to the room to grab something out of his bag. He always slept in your bed with you, “to make sure you don’t run off in the middle of the night” he explained while settling under the blankets and letting out a satisfied hum. You didn’t mind sharing a bed with him at all, but it made it difficult on the nights you so desperately needed to touch yourself. And you won’t even lie, sometimes…. you did, with your best friend less than a foot away from you. And you could’ve swore that those nights your orgasms were so much more intense. But you couldn’t figure out why.

It was currently Saturday night and jisung was in the kitchen making you both dinner. It was a sweet gesture but it made your whole body heat up from the sight of him. You finally decided to stop ogling him and walk into the kitchen, and throw your top half over the kitchen island and groan as loud groan of frustration. “Can I pleeeeease just go out tonight? I’ll only be gone for a couple hours.” You smile up at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, hoping the cuteness would seduce him into letting you leave, your underwear is probably already ruined so you need to get out of here before you do something you’ll regret. “No” is all he says, continuing on the food. “You let you head fall onto the counter, with a loud thump and a whine coming from your mouth. “This is so annoying” you started flopping around like a fish, your whole body convulsing. “You aren’t my dad y’kow” your voice somewhat muffled by your hair thrown all over your face. “I might as well be, now get up before you get your hair in the food. Why are you whining anyways?” He asked as you straightened you body and fixed your hair.

“It’s uh… kinda tmi” You avoided eye contact by looking at you hands.

“Well go ahead. I already know all your dirty secrets anyway” Did he know you masterbate with him right next to you while you look at his beautiful face as a visual? Probably not.

You took a deep breath and said it before you could think too much about it and chicken out. “I already got off this morning and I still feel like I’m gonna explode. So please let me go out.” Your voice was high pitched. “I have a better idea” You waited for him to continue, open to anything at this point. “ let’s watch porn together, and you can touch yourself if you want too. But I don’t want you out there sleeping around with other guys.” You were stunned for a moment but then imagining the outcome of this. “I don’t know. I get really….. weird when I’m in the mood.” You said recalling the other times you’ve almost gone crazy chasing after your high. “I don’t think straight and I take things too far.”

“I’m okay with whatever you choose as long as you stay.” You could already feel list clouding you senses and you don’t think you couldn’t go without some kind of release tonight. You finally agreed after some time and jisung reassuring you that nothing would change between the both of you and that this was just him helping you out as a friend. He placed his laptop on the coffee table in the living room and pulled up the website “he often uses” he had said. You both sat in the floor in front of it, your backs pressed against the sofa. “What do like to watch?” He turned his head to look at you, while you were staring at the choices on the computer screen, all of the were just regular maleXfemale in missionary. You looked back at jisung almost embarrassed to tell him what you always watch but you do anyways.

“Lesbian” Your voice lower than a whisper. Jisungs eyes got bigger and his dick twitched in his pants. If he wasn’t hard earlier (which he was, seeing you get all needy and beg to let you go out and get dicked down) he was now. He nodded and clicked on the search bar to type it out, and letting you pick which video. You clicked on a video by you favorite creators. A sweet couple, both beautiful, and one of them had the sweetest moans. The video is mostly forplay, one of the girls sucking on her tits and groping her ass and eventually rubbing her middle finger up and down her cunt, making her whimper and grind against her hand. You glanced over at jisung, his arms were crossed and his legs were spread, giving you the perfect view of his hard on. His eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration and his lip tucked between is teeth. He was breathing heavily and you could tell he was just as horny as you were now. “I’ll be right back” you said, abruptly standing up and heading to you room. You returned with a blanket and jisung thought nothing of it, you were probably just cold. But as time went on he noticed a little bit of movement under the blanket right in between your thighs. He was so focused on the slight movements he didn’t notice you were staring at him, not halting your movements even a little. When he did look up and meet your gaze he almost came in his pants. You looked so fucked out already, your lips parted and eyebrows scrunched a little from the pleasure, but what really had him going was the way you were looking at him while you did it. I. Fact your hand sped up once you made eye contact and you looked him up and down. “Touch yourself” you finally said. “I don’t have a blanket” he smirked looking down at your covering. You flung it from off your body and threw it at him. “Here you can have mine” you retorted. His jaw almost hit the floor when his eyes scanned over your body. Your short you were wearing earlier we’re now around your ankles along with your underwear. But what shocked him the most is that the movement under that blanket wasn’t just your hand rubbing your cunt, it was a pink dildo. So that must’ve been why you went to your room.

Even with Jisungs eyes on you, you didn’t stop your movements, still plunging the toy in and out of your dripping cunt. He sat there for a moment, surprised by your boldness. “Jisung” he pulled his eyes away from your body to look at your face. “That looks painful” your eyes trailed down his own body. His eyes followed to where yours were looking, and landed on his crotch, where his jeans have gotten significantly tighter. “Ji please” your voice was airy. You rarely called him that unless you were really desperate and trying to convince him of something. He finally gave in and placed his hand over his bulge and started palming himself through his pants. Letting out a sigh of relief, you were right, it was getting painful. But that only lasted a few minutes before you wanted more. “Take off your pants” It went on like that until his pants and underwear were discarded and joined the pile of your own clothes. He was lazily stroking his cock while staring at the screen. While you were staring and him. His toned thighs, the way his hand wrapped around his length, the precum beading at the tip before he swiped his thumb over it to use as lubricant. It was making your insides flutter. Soon he was aggressively pulling at his cock, trying to relieve the building pressure growing in his lower abdomen. You were fucking yourself at the same pace, attempting to match his movements. You were both getting so close but you just couldn’t seem to fully get there. “Ji…. “ he snapped his head in your direction to see what you needed, only find you with your head thrown back over the couch cushion with your eyes screwed shut and you face contorted in pleasure.

Were you…… moaning his name?

Your eyes slowly opened and your head tilted to look at him one last time before you exploded. “Fuck Ji” you let out a drawn out moan and you whole body convulsed and twitched as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Jisung couldn’t help but watch as you reached your end, squeezing himself a little harder while thrusting up into his hand while spurts of cum painted his hand and thighs. His hand slowed as he came down from his high even though he was still hard. But you didn’t stop, you kept going even after your orgasm. You arched your back from the overstimulation but kept going while letting out small whimpers. “Not enough” you said quietly, still out of breath. “What do you mean?” Jisung asked, clearly confused. “It’s not enough Ji I need……” your wrist finally slowed and you pulled the toy out of you and set it to the side. You sat up straight and looked into his eyes. “I need you to fuck me Jisung” his eyes widen and his lips parted like he wanted to respond but he couldn’t. “Please” you begged.

He wasn’t about to miss possibly his only chance to be with you.

“I thought you’d never ask” he shot up from his spot on the floor and hovered over you, placing his lips to your neck and his hands on your covered breasts. You moaned as he sucked on the most sensitive spots on your neck and collar bone. He raised your shirt up until it was over your head and thrown across the room. Once you were completely exposed to him he dove into your chest, sucking and licking at your nipple and then moving to give the same attention to the other one. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, gently pulling and urging him to continue. He trailed down your abdomen and lest soft kisses on your inner thighs. After some encouraging from your whines and whimpering he finally licked a long stripe up your center before diving in and sucking on your clit.

“Shit Ji” your back arched and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His tongue worked wonders on you, pushing in and out of your entrance and nudging you closer to the edge once more. He pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them while roughly sucking on your clit. Your fingers pulled harshly at his hair making him moan. The vibrations shot through your body and your legs began to shake and your body convulsed as your second orgasm hit you hard. Your thighs wrapped around his head and his tongue slowed as you came down from your high.

Before he could even say a word you were pulling him up to you and begging for more. “I need you inside me” you wrapped your legs around his torso and pulled his shirt off of him. “You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t think straight” he smirked down at you. “Do you wanna stop?” You raised your eyebrows at him, daring him to say yes. “No” is all he said. “Good, cause I might cry if we do.” He was about to say something smart but you cut him off by kissing him. Aggressive. Aggressive was the only word to describe it. All teeth and tongue, moaning into each other’s mouth. Desperate to feel something, anything, you placed you hand around his throbbing cock and aligned it with you core, squeezing it slightly. You ground your hips upwards and his tip pressed against your entrance but didn’t quite enter. You were the first one to break the kiss. “Please just put it in Ji” you felt like you would explode if you didn’t release soon. “You’ve tortured me enough tonight”

“Oh not nearly enough” he was smiling ear to ear which worried you.

“Save it for another time”

“There’ll be another time?”

“If you don’t want me going out then yes” apparently that was all it took for him to finally push in, filling you up perfectly. The stretch was amazing, he may not be the biggest guy you’ve been with but he was at least in the top five.

His thrust started out slow but soon sped up, per your request. He was hitting every spot just right, making your toes curl. You ran your hand down his abdomen, he didn’t have abs but he was toned, and the firmness was making you clench around him. With every thrust you could see his muscles clench and unclench, you could hear his heavy breathing and quiet moans. You could see a thin layer of sweat building on his skin, the way his hair was sticking to his forehead and his lips were parted. His eyes were screwed shut, probably trying his hardest not to cum to soon. You never looked so closely at the people you slept with, but now you were taking in every detail of him, drinking in the way he moans your name and holds you so tight. It was so intimate and was going to have you coming for the third time very soon. “Oh my gosh” was all you could get out before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you, and moaning his name as your walls clamped around him making it hard for him to move. But the tightness made his hips stutter and suddenly he was spilling his seed into you without a warning.

He collapsed on top of you, unable to move as he came back to earth. Your fingers played with his sweaty hair while you both just layer in your living room floor completely naked. “That was the best idea you’ve ever had” you stared at the ceiling until he lifted his head to look at you. “Are you satisfied now?” He asked jokingly. “I could go another round” you answered not so jokingly.

PLEASE READ

First i would like to say THANK YOUUU SO MUCH FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!! This is so exciting! And I would also like to apologize for not being active. After the passing of Astro member Moonbin and some personal things happened, I felt like I needed a break from everything. And after this incident I created a twitter and instagram account dedicated to saying kind things about skz. I know people say we can’t help them but I’m sure as hell going to try. They’ll probably never see it and that’s fine but I just want them to know how loved they are. Please I beg you go follow it so it can grow and reach more stays and possibly skz, it’s stayville143 and you can dm that account of something you would like to say about them and I’ll surely post it. I’m so sorry for the long message but I’m tired of seeing these idols lose their lives to hate. And I don’t think I could take it if something happened to any of straykids.

Taglist: @yumiblogs

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urhoneycombwitch · 8 months ago

Note

On dad!Steve !! I would love if you could write something about him coming to terms with becoming a dad/pregnancy and labour/just first time dad!Steve in general makes me melt (especially if he's a girl dad 😔)

kay I’ll speak on it bc I have thoughts for SURE

cw: dad!steve, pregnant!R, light emetephobia ment, childbirth desc (no smut but my page is +18 only)

canon-wise, I feel like Steve’s only gotten smarter. obviously he’s still got a goofy himbo side. but he’s getting cleaner with fighting. sharper with his observations. lighter on his feet that’s only come with lots of protective practice.

but the part of him that really cares goes into overdrive after s4, in the canon I’m building in my head 😇 I think he might get a little obsessive about safety for awhile, in the wake of their heroic, underground-world-defeating victory. that kicks into high gear when he finds out you’re pregnant.

(see more of my to-be-named world building here)

for the first few months of your pregnancy he’s never been more grateful to be working in the same building as you. he takes every opportunity to to visit you at your library posting, between teaching his classes (under the pretense of grading papers. Professor Harrington can generally be found at a one-elbow lean on your front desk any time he isn’t in his office.)

he just loves you so much and wants to make sure you’re doing okay. he brings you ginger soda, the fancy brand you like- kept stocked in the staff fridge when your stomach is roiling with nausea, passed with an apologetic kiss to the back of your hand.

bleeding heart Steve feels so bad he can’t take all the pain away, does his best to alleviate your new and growing discomforts. rubs your shoulders and puffy ankles down with lotion each night. gives up coffee in the mornings (even tho he used to RUN on caffeine) so you can kiss him without aversion 💖. he’s with you for every shaky night-sweat throw up session on the bathroom floor, kneeling to hold you hair back from getting sick in it. warm palm on your lower back in assurance and comfort.

he calls it at 6 months. begs and cajoles and patiently argues (sweetheart, you’re wakin’ up so early with work. you should really rest, anyways- find a nice horizontal hobby to keep you off your feet. treat it like vacation 🫶) which turn into not so patient arguments (practically in your third trimester, goddammit, you want me to go crazy with worry? gonna have premature greys at this rate. let me keep you safe, angel, please. for my sake.) until finally you agree to take the damn maternity leave early.

and u know Steve’s reading all the books. how to be a good first-time dad. 101 lessons for the new parent. mother’s health and wellness magazines. childbirthing books. by the end of your third trimester, he’s gained enough knowledge to be an honorary midwife. could deliver the baby himself, if the situation really called for it. better to be prepared 🫡

and that spring , you’re both lounging on the couch. there’s a sunny spot under the big window, and you’re warming like cats, you feet propped in Steve’s lap. moon of a stomach peeking out from underneath a stolen one of Steve’s soft tees. his eyes are fixed on his library book on gentle parenting until you take a sharp inhale.

there’s a spasming band just under your navel that you press your hands into, and Steve pauses in rubbing absentminded at your ankle. looks up at you in concern and then at his watch and says “whoa, that’s like, 4 contractions in the last 5 minutes. are these for real or what?”

and you’re like “uhmmmm. don’t b mad but my water kind of broke this afternoon.”

and Steve looks at you with this very poorly concealed bewilderment that’s quickly morphing into shock and so you start talking before he can like “no no it’s chill. it’s cool!! 😎 doesn’t even hurt that bad and I knew you’d be home at 4 anyways….”

and you quiet when Steve rips his glasses off and pinches his nose between two fingers and says in a Very strangled voice “yeah. okay. well it’s 5 PM traffic right now which means rush hour which means we need to go to plan C right off the bat…”

and you watch this man unravel in the most efficient way possible. tugging at the roots of his hair until it stands overly-tall but managing to pack all your bags in the car in under 3 minutes. a record. and he gets to the hospital using all the mapped-out backroads so you’re there in a tight 15.

but as it turns out, a speedy arrival to the L&D ward of Hawkins Memorial wasn’t even necessary, because you spend the next 21 hours in the most intense, soul-crushing pain Steve’s ever seen you go thru in his life and it almost breaks him. for real.

he’s so soft for you and no amount of reading about other people giving birth could have prepared him for the heartache and helplessness of seeing you ride the wave of a contraction. or go thru the brutal process of getting an epidural, your hands digging into his forearms hard enough to leave bruises as you leaned on him thru it all.

and Steve did not know he could fall more in love w you but he does, the second you become a parent alongside him, wet and wriggling baby girl placed on your chest. spend two nights in the hospital healing up and fumbling through feedings and giggling over your new tiny daughter. counting her fingers and toes every time you unwrap her. cooing over those big brown eyes that look just like Steve’s.

and with his first baby, Steve is overprotective to the max. only Robin can babysit at first, and that’s only after she’s checked off a rigorous amount of reading material from Steve’s comprehensive required book list. he’s fussy about her routine (truly puts so much of the postnatal stress in himself so you can focus on bonding w/ your babe and resting), is fiercely protective over u and the new baby, like mama bear to the maxxx.

he’s actually GREAT at multitasking and the all consuming constant buzz of listening for certain types of crying and feedings and baby hand-offs thru the night really solidify the fact that he can do this. he’s already a million times better than his own parents at it, a fact of which you constantly remind and encourage him with.

and I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, best thing to ever happen to Steve Harrington is having a second kid bc it chills him way the hell out. for reasons chalked up simply to It's the way the world works, Steve falls into a natural rhythm w your second kid. finds his stride as they say. he’s just as excited and caretaking and protective during your second pregnancy as with your first, but this time without all of the panic and wire-thin nerves. coasts thru calmly.

perhaps a touch too calm, because when you go into labor with your second kid, it’s the middle of a snowstorm in Hawkins, and since u and Steve went thru such a long hard birth with your eldest, you both take your sweet time getting ready to go. saying goodbye to your 3 year-old while aunt Robin comes to stay. even stopping for a snack on the way to the hospital because last time they didn’t let you eat and you were fucking ravenous the whole time.

but then Steve has to drive so slow and safe bc of the snowy roads and you’re still a good 20 mins out when things progress so rapidly and so unlike the first time around; Steve is so level-headed and lets you crush all the bones in his right hand while he drives with his left, coaching you through breathing exercises, trying to keep calm but oh shit, you’re making the same sounds you made three years ago when you brought your first baby into the world, all low groans and gritted teeth and Steve’s pleading with you to hold on, just a few more minutes as he coasts into the emergency bay of L&D. doesn’t give a fuck about parking in a tow zone, they can take the damn car, Steve’s already launching himself out of the drivers seat to scoop you up and hike it indoors.

in the nick of time. 10 minutes and a few pushes later and your second baby is there, all scrunched and tiny, so much smaller than her sister, got the slope of your nose and Steve’s pretty cupids bow. she arrived so fast it feels like a joke, you and Steve cuddling a bit cramped (the way you all like it) in the hospital bed, laughing a little, marveling at the fact that you’re a family of four now, how different it’s all been the second time around. how neither of you realized how much your hearts could expand to engulf your two kids with so much love, it feels like you’re both bursting at the seams 💖

#lu’s anons #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #mom!reader #parent!reader #steve harrington x pregnant!reader #pregnancy cw

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mayakern · 6 months ago

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upcoming store stuff & why we're doing a super sale

omg hiiii it's devin again, and this time i'm bringing store news

the short version: we're moving ourselves back to minnesota, and we're moving order fulfillment to a fulfillment center

wow, that's big news! maya and i are so so so excited to be closer to our minnesota friends (and also my family lol). i'm hoping to be back in northeast minneapolis, but let's be real we're probably gonna get priced out and into the suburbs

in addition to that, due to a variety of reasons i'll explain in more detail below, we're transitioning from in-house fulfillment to working with a fulfillment center (or 3pl, short for third-party logistics). we're at an awkward size that makes staffing difficult and have had issues with extended processing time. the 3pl should be set up by september, and we're working on the back end to have fulfillment centers in australia, canada, the UK, and eventually the EU. if tax authorities work with us we should have all that ready by december 2024!

to prepare for that we're doing a super sale. ash told me not to call it liquidation but she said that like 30 seconds after i hit send on the marketing email, sorry about that. items that we don't want to pay to move to the 3pl are discounted by 25-70%, with some of them priced at cost. under no circumstances will anything ever be 70% off again

if you're nosy you can read the q&a i made up in my head while eating pigs in a blanket:

how are the labor protections at the 3pl?

pretty good! we were shocked to find anything even halfway decent in the US; we went looking for a fulfillment center in the EU to handle all international fulfillment, and the one we found just so happened to have bought a US location two years ago.

they're located in ohio, pay $19/hr, and provide health insurance and 401k matching. that seemed too good to be true so we dug through employee reviews on places like glassdoor, and while there were some bad reviews those were all dated prior to when the facility was purchased by this new company. they also have a very low turnover rate which is a HUGE green flag

why are you transferring to a 3pl?

the serious

sometimes we have a high volume of sales, and it makes sense to have two full-time employees plus a part timer! but usually we have a low-to-medium volume of sales. we can float by on that, but it gets risky, and the economy is in a bad enough state that we're concerned about the longevity

related, the 2023 holiday sale showed us some major flaws in our fulfillment process. if the same issues were to happen this year the business probably wouldn't survive

we're moving cross-country in early 2025 and would've had to close this location anyway

the dumb:

i'm sick of dealing with commercial landlords and if i have one more wall leak i'm going to throw it into the river brick by brick

what about your staff?

unfortunately we will have to say goodbye to our office staff. they have been given 3.5 months notice and no-questions-asked PTO for interviews with a small severance

why are you moving back to minnesota?

troy was always meant to be a temporary move. initially the plan was to move to vermont or massachusetts, but after being out here for 7 years we just kinda want to go home. the weather in troy is perfect for us, we love the mountains, and we have some great friends here, but for some goddamn reason we want our eyelashes to freeze together.

will you be returning to midwest cons?

if we return to cons at all it will be with ariel and/or ash running the booth, maya will not be involved. this would likely be in california and/or in the northeast US.

my friends are begging me to go to CONvergence as an attendee so ig you might see me there? maya has pledged death before crowded venues tho

will you do any local events in minnesota?

we might do sample sales. honestly idk what we're gonna do with the samples we have in troy, most of them are terrible. do you want samples of the strangest low rise bell bottom pants ever created? please take them from me. my bush hangs out

also my kid brother has gotten really into library events and if he asks nice enough we might do some of those

is there anything else?

i mean probably, but i started this last week and i haven't had any other ideas on what to include

#devin time #store

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mammalsofaction · 30 days ago

Text

His man

Rating: G

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: Human Perry, mute perry, one shot, domesticity and denial, partial OMC, Pinky the Chihuahua, based on that one official dtva merch my moots know the one.

Tagging @adhdoofenshmirtz and @pnfc directly.

"And I don't know what you take me for, P, we all know it, Carl knows it, Cindy from payroll knows it-,"

Dave, if you don't have anything of substance you want to talk to me about, Perry interrupts, slumping back into his creaky office chair, some of us have actual work to do.

"So it is true." Asks Agent Dave the Dog.

Oh for God's sake, Dave for the last time, there is nothing incriminating between me and Heinz-

"Perry?"

They both turn to see Pinky peeking his head into Perry's cubicle, one hand on the comm system perpetually stuck into his ear whenever he's hanging about at Headquarters.

"Your man's hacked into the agent comms again with a voicemail." Pinky tells them, and there's a subtle uptick by the corners of his mouth. "It's cute, but Francis won't think so. You've got 10 minutes."

Speak of the devil, Perry thinks, and despite Dave's lingering presence Perry automatically punches the button for the third line, Heinz's preferred comm line, because it cc's right into Francis' hotline if Perry doesn't pick it up as soon as it beeps through. And Perry loves the man, really he does, but that doesn't make him any less of an asshole when he wants Perry to pay attention to him.

"Sorry for calling you on your work phone, Perry the Platypus," Said Heinz's voice, insincerely, when Perry finally picks up the receiver. There is a lot of noise, in the background, that Perry recognizes as the high school letting out. He must be picking up Vanessa for her dentist appointment at 3. "But I'm in my pickup in traffic and my hands are a bit full, I would have texted, you know I will. But I just wanted to let you know I'm pushing back our Monday session to Thursday before 10, I just found out that Vanessa's tried to keep me from knowing about her qualifying the interstate diving high school senior circuit, can you believe that? Charlene's the one who told me about it. Charlene! I'm gonna pencil in Norm's maintanence later that afternoon so we'll have the whole of Thursday free, and maybe we can check out the premiere of the Bad and the Dangerous in cinemas in the evening? But that means you have to finish your backlog before then, I know how you've been putting off your Sienna report all week.

Text me back before 5! Curse you, Perry the Platypus!"

Perry realizes he's smiling, a bit dopily, when he turns around and finds that Dave and Pinky are still there, staring. It turns into an embarrassed scowl, and Perry deletes the voicemail manually. He hopes against hope none of the rest of the agents had picked up the message before then, but knowing Pinky's incessant gossiping habit, everyone but Francis will still probably know about it before the end of the day.

What? Perry demands, huffy.

Pinky clicks his tongue, smirking, before ducking silently into his own cubicle. Suspicious, but Perry doesn't dare to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Dave is still staring, grinning like a lunatic.

What? Perry repeats himself more insistently.

"Your man, huh?"

Shit, Perry thinks. Shut up, he signs instead. And get out.

#perryshmirtz #phineas and ferb #choice of fic #THATS HIS MAN!!!!

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94blazed · 1 year ago

Text

OBSESSION

PART 1

WC : 8.3K

Genre: smut. fluff. crack. angst.

Rating: M (minors dni)

Warnings: depression. alcohol; consumption. no smut in this part!

Summary: Seven wednesday jungkook. You and Jungkook have been delusional about each other your whole lives, but when Jungkook is off the market, you start to wonder if it was all just one-sided. After the break-up with sohee, you became friends with benefits right after a simple hookup, but when he receives a text from his ex..

a/n: this is a two part series! i couldn’t stop expanding the story :,) - no hate to sohee this is fiction!

TAGLIST : sign up here

⋆

You and Jungkook have known each other since the 3rd grade, basically throughout your entire lives, and have always had a connection towards each other. Ever since you were kids, there was always something there, a spark, but no match to ignite it. So it was more of an under the table type of thing, but everyone knew it was obvious.

At age 20, I was enrolled in Seoul University along with Jungkook and the rest of the boys. It was the summer of 2020 and we had gathered around the campfire on the beach, cooking s'mores, admiring the sunset, and playing a few rounds of volleyball while enjoying a few cans of Truly. Everyone was present except for Jungkook, who was the last to arrive with a hinted surprise he had mentioned in the gc. As the drinks flowed, I began to suspect that his surprise was just another bottle of alcohol. However, I'm growing a high confidence from these drinks, I start to prepare myself for this moment mentally and physically. To confess my feelings to him.

Light beams hit our faces as Jungkook finally arrived, and I couldn't contain my excitement. Everyone started dashing towards him, with me being the last to arrive. "Guys, I'd like to introduce you to Sohee, my girlfriend," Jungkook announced. Everyone greeted her as they should, and as a friend, I knew I should do the same. However, my heart sank deeper and deeper as I came into contact with her. It registered that she was now Jungkook's girlfriend and that everything that we had between us was probably one-sided and never meant anything, but I couldn't help but wonder why he never mentioned her before..

⋆ TIME SKIP ( 2 years later / december ‘22 )

After Sohee and Jungkook got together, they would always show up together at the hangouts. Even with the rest of the boys being there, I still felt like a third wheel. "jk's kinda a jerk for leading you on just for him to bring a girl out of nowhere," your best friend Jimin whispers. "Yeah," you sigh. You're honestly happy for them, but to be honest, you're a little jealous.

When we hung out with the boys, we would often sneak off to talk and maybe share a kiss or two, but it never progressed into anything further..

Just talking to him as if we were together made me feel like the world was on pause. Looking up from the ground, I saw them cuddling on the couch, his hands on her waist and hers resting on his chest, their eye contact never breaking. It stung a little, but as a friend, I knew I had to be supportive and had to accept the fact that it was over. "Hey, I'm gonna head out. I'm getting tired," I said. "y/n, stay a little longer. It's barely 11," yoongi replied, glancing at the couple. They didn't even acknowledge your presence. "No, it's okay. I have work in the morning anyway," I said, hearing a collective of "aww's" Jimin spoke up, "I'll walk her down. I'll be right back."

"I'm sorry, y/n," Jimin says, turning around to face you. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Jimin, it's not your fault." "I know, but I really thought you two would've ended up together." he pauses. "You know, I've always seen you two sneak off, so I thought you two would have confessed to each other during that time. I would even distract the guys so they wouldn't notice." you smile. "I thought so too, but trust me, chim, I'm happy for them." Jimin throws you a squinted look, making you laugh, as you reach your car, as you say your goodbyes. Jimin embraces you and whispers, "Don't think about it too much. I don't like seeing you like this." grinning, you hug him back tightly, "I won't. Thank you, chim." After letting go, you waved goodbye and made your way home.

⋆ february ‘23

A week after that hangout, Jungkook stopped coming to the hangouts along with Sohee. He slowly stopped responding to the group chat and stopped posting on all his socials. You started thinking that he was just too busy being lovey-dovey with his girlfriend, but your assumption was wrong.

You attempted to contact him multiple times but went straight to voicemail. Frustrated enough you grabbed your keys, hopped in your car, and made your way to his place. Upon arriving, you knocked on his door. only to find that the lights were off, but it was only 9pm? he never goes to bed this early. Banging harder the door finally opened to a messy-haired Jungkook. "What do you wan- y/n?" He was surprised to see you at his doorstep. "What are you doing here?" "I'm here to see what's going on. You don't come to the hangouts, nor do you text or call us?" "I'm sorry." "Yeah, sorry. I love to hear it." "You think this was my choice?" Now you were confused. "What do you mean?" "Sohee. She didn't want me to be around you guys, especially you." You were taken aback a little. "Wait, me?" " I told her about us. She never did things like you did, and comparing you to her must've gotten under her skin." you didn't know Sohee would feel this threatened by you. "Wait, where is she now?" "We broke up a while ago. she took everything of mine, even my phone." You felt bad, really bad, and it kind of pissed you off. "Okay, um, can I come in?" He finally raised his gaze to meet yours, now seeing his face, you noticed how pale he got along with dark circles under his eyes. Which caused you to be concerned for his health. "Have you eaten yet?" "No, the last time was two days ago." Your heart sank, but you couldn't just stand there. "Okay, um, I'll order takeout right now, but let's wash you up first." Grabbing his hand, he followed you like a lost puppy. Looking around, you saw clothes everywhere, smashed dishes on the floor, and cabinet doors flung open. And pretty sure she did take everything.

After finding the bathroom, closing the lid to the toilet you assisted him to sit down. Turning to the tub, you plugged up the drain and turned on the warm water from the faucet. "Okay, can you undress for me and hop in once you're done?, I'll be right back." closing the door, you heard shuffling on the other side, which was a good sign. After placing an order, you helped clean up the mess that was made around the place. placing clothes in the hamper, making the bed, sweeping the glassware off the floor, and putting the dirty clothes in the washer. When completing, you went to check up on jungkook. Knocking on the door, you heard a quiet "come in." Opening the door, you saw him immersed in a bath of bubbles, which you did not recall adding, indicating that he had done so himself.

Sitting on the rim of the bathtub, you stare at his face, head tilted back, eyes shut, messy hair, and that cute little mole beneath his lip that you love so much. You didn't even notice a smile had crept onto your face until he opened his eyes, "What are you smiling about?" realizing that you were caught, you averted your gaze and responded, "Nothing, I just thought the bubbles were cool." There was a long moment of silence before you offered, "Let me wash your hair." dampening his hair a bit, you pumped a few globs of shampoo onto your palm and proceeded to massage it into his hair.

Jungkook let out a sigh of relief, "feels so good," causing your cheeks to tint a light shade of red. After rinsing it off, you continued with the conditioner, and so on. You stepped out for a little while so he could wash himself up. While waiting outside, you heard your name being called. "yeah?" "um, do you think you can wash my back?" burning up, you cooled yourself down a little before entering. returning to the rim of the tub, you took the sponge and gently applied it to his back.

While scrubbing, he spoke, "thank you, and I truly mean it. thank you." pausing, you resumed scrubbing. "That's what friends are for, Jungkook." he fully turned around this time, making eye contact with you. "No, I actually mean it y/n. thank you. To be quite honest, you were the last person I thought I would see." "Kook, after everything, I still care about you. Yeah, what happened between us was nothing, just a little fling. You didn't hurt me like you think you did. I completely understand." ( yeah right ). "Honestly though, I mean it. I owe you. a big one" You both held contact in silence, the world pausing yet again; both flicking your eyes at each other's lips, making sure the other wouldn't notice. "Can I kiss you?" you were taken by surprise, but after all this time, you couldn't miss this opportunity. Smiling, you leaned in closer, hand dipping to the bottom of the tub for support, eyes never breaking contact. You were an inch away before you answered, "yes."

Jungkook finally breaks a smile as he takes his damp thumb, tilting your chin to adjust to his angle. You deepen the kiss, not holding back as you slip your tongue through his parted lips, which he gladly accepts. Playing with his lip ring earns you a small bite to your tongue, making you want to play with his tongue instead.

You guys lasted a while in the bathroom, having an intense make-out session, but like before, it didn't lead up into anything. After helping him out of the tub, providing him with a towel. You left him to get dressed while you unclogged the drain, allowing the water to flow along with the rest of the bubbles down the drain.

After eating the takeout you ordered, you guys watched movies together on the sofa, but it was 2 in the morning, and you couldn't stay here all night, so you had to say your goodbyes. Looking over, you noticed that jungkook had fallen asleep. Cracking a smile, you get up and plant a kiss on the top of his head, but as you reach for your keys, he grasps your wrist. "stay, just for tonight." Breaking into a smile, you agreed. and let me just say, it wasn't the only night.

⋆ TIME SKIP / april ‘23

Ever since that night, you two have been fwb. slowly but surely, you started bringing him back into the group. He seems more lively now than he was when you first found him.

Like today, you both came back from the group to hang out, to spend time, just the two of you. ordered pizza, watched movies, and just enjoying each other's presence.

until now, jungkook received a notification.

- unknown: Do you like her?

- JK: who is this?

- unknown: Sohee.

- sohee: Y/N, do you like her?

- JK: why are you asking me this?

- sohee: because I still want us.

to be continued…

a/n: i hope you enjoyed part 1 even though it’s on a cliffhanger 😭 but i’ll be posting part 2 this week !

taglist : @jjklves @ane102 @moonbinniehappy @caro134340lina @bbtsficrecs @ahsluv @tatamicc @heartjiminie @ta3bae @ahsluva @starbrightday

#bts masterlist #bts smut #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #94blazedobsession

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galamalion · 1 year ago

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┈ ✧.* 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

┈ ✧.* summary﹕after a group breakfast, you attend your totally boring not-at-all-cool college classes and end your night on a particularly high note.

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing﹕one piece x fem!reader

┈ ✧.* chapters﹕[i] [ii] [iii] [iv]

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ w/c﹕3.6k

┈ ✧.* chapter iv﹕breakfast, books, and bedtimes

“Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead…” a feminine voice whispered from above.

You twitched at the sudden interruption to your sleep, blinking your eyes open once, then twice, and then snapping them fully shut before tucking under your blankets and turning the other direction.

“No…” you groaned, pressing your face into the pillow. “Five more minutes…”

“This isn’t a TV show, get up!” a different voice barked, yanking your blankets off.

Jumping up, sleep still plaguing your body, you lunged towards the blanket-thief, attempting to take your blanket back from their thieving hands.

“Give it back,” you whined, unable to pull it away from her.

“Nope! It’s time for class, no more sleeping!” she cooed.

You sat back in your bed, watching the figure as you slowly began to focus on objects, realizing it was Nami you were fighting.

“God damnit, Nami!” you hissed, stretching your tired body.

“I’m sorry,” Vivi pleaded, looking incredibly guilty. “Nami told me that we could wake you up, I didn’t know you would be so…unreceptive to the idea.”

“It’s fine, Vivi. I guess it’s good that I’m awake now. Do we have plans or something this morning?” you said, sluggishly getting out of bed and walking to your closet.

“Just breakfast,” Nami replied, sitting down on Vivi’s bed.

“With the boys?”

“With the boys,” she said, checking her phone. “They should be there already, want us to wait?”

“Nah.” You grabbed your shower-bag, towel, and fresh pair of clothes. “I’ll shower and be down in a little bit.”

“You sure?” Vivi asked, watching you walk into the small bathroom.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you called from inside, “I’m not leaving this room till I’m clean, you get me?”

“For sure,” you heard Nami sigh in understanding, “well, we’ll see you in a bit, ‘kay?”

“Got it!” You heard the door open and then shut, proceeding to then turn on the shower and hop in.

Once you finished and dried off, you changed into your clean clothes. After carefully brushing your wet hair, you quickly washed your face and headed out towards the dining hall. On your way there you checked your phone for the time, noticing a couple different texts from about half an hour ago.

Oh, shit. Maybe this is why Vivi and Nami woke you up. You continued scrolling through your phone, seeing another text.

It took another minute of walking before you reached the dining hall, climbing the small flight of stairs to reach the top. Your appearance was immediately noted by your table of friends as you spotted Luffy waving excitedly at your entrance. Before he could scream your name—or whatever he planned on yelling—his mouth was quickly covered by Usopp who was then assisted by Sanji in dragging him back down to his chair.

You quickly grabbed a tray of food and made your way over to the table, sitting next to Vivi.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Sanji cooed, giving you a teasing finger wave.

“She’s not a fairy tale character, you half-rate cook,” Zoro scoffed.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean, huh?” Sanji hissed, easily enraged by the words of his nemesis. “You tellin’ me she doesn’t look like a princess? What kind of gentlemen do you think you are?”

“I didn’t say she was ugly, I just think she’s not defined by the time she wakes up,” Zoro retorted, finishing his third bowl of rice.

“It’s alright, Zoro,” you reassured, “I mean, doesn’t every girl dream of being a princess? It’s kind of nice to hear it, I guess.”

“Not me!” Nami cheerily answered, peeling away at an orange. “I wanted to be rich, like that Rumplestiltskin guy!”

Sanji swooned, “I’ll be your Rumplestiltskin, my orange blossom!”

“I said I wanna be him, not owe anyone favors,” she scoffed. “But if you’re offering to spin straw into gold for me, go ahead!”

You listened into their three-way conversation for a little longer before turning to Vivi in hopes of a less fiery conversation.

“So, Vi, what classes have you got today?” you asked politely.

Vivi looked excited as she began her explanation, “Well, I have a civics class in about an hour, and then I’ll have a philosophy class after that, and then an economy class…I think that wraps up my day!”

“Wow, pretty wide area of studies,” you remarked. “You’re a political science major, right?”

“Yep!” Vivi clasped her hands together. “It’s good to have an open mind in this field, so I’m trying to gain more perspectives while studying here, so I think these kinds of classes suit me best.”

“Luffy could take a page out of your book,” you sighed.

“What? I don’t need any books! I already have mine!” Luffy hollered from across the table, mouth stuffed with meat. It was a miracle you could even tell what he was saying.

“Nothing, Luffy!” you called back, hoping the food flying from Luffy’s mouth wouldn’t land on anyone nearby.

Vivi politely cleared her throat, “What kind of classes do you have today?”

“Ugh,” you groaned, slouching in your seat.

“Well, that doesn’t appear to be a good sign,” Vivi observed.

“I just don’t want to go to chemistry,” you made a quick vomiting gesture. “I have two psychology classes after that, but I’d rather go to those first and chemistry last, ya feel me?”

Vivi nodded astutely, “Yes, but if you have chemistry now, then you can end your day off on a high note!”

“Always seeing the glass half-full, huh?” you asked, smiling at her enthusiasm.

“I certainly try to. I think it helps me view the world more brightly.”

“Not a bad reason to,” you sighed.

The eight of you ate breakfast together, constantly switching conversations as you all learned new bits and pieces from one another. Sanji was studying culinary arts, Usopp was studying engineering, Vivi had a personal butler back home, and Zoro grew up in a dojo. All in all, your friends' lives were far more interesting than your own. Growing up in a well-maintained orphanage didn’t do much for character growth, after all.

“Well,” you stood up, “my class is starting soon, so I should head out now,”

“Ah, leaving so soon, just like last time!” Sanji cried. “I’ll miss you, my sweet princess!”

“Have fun,” Zoro murmured, drinking from a flask of booze.

“Where the hell’d you get that?!” Usopp gaped.

You decided to make your exit before the situation got out of hand.

“I hate chemistry,” you groaned, trekking over to the science building.

It wasn’t that chemistry was particularly hard, but it was a lot of work. Concepts could be explained, equations could be understood, and values could be memorized. But it was just so damn boring at times. Sitting still during lecture was insufferable, but you could keep up for a little bit, at least until the next new thing was introduced. Then you’d be lost. But that’s what office hours and tutors were for, you supposed.

You climbed the stairs up to your class, dreading the pit of boredom that awaited you within. Reaching the classroom, you carefully turned the handle and stepped inside. Immediately upon entering, you immediately noticed a familiar face.

Sitting at a lone table off to the side was your lab assistant, Law, if you remembered correctly. Was he really assisting two chemistry classes? What kind of psychotic lunatic would subject themselves to that kind of pain?

His mental state wasn’t something you particularly cared about, especially considering your somewhat embarrassing encounter with him. You decided to just claim a seat and ignore him until further notice, most likely until you needed help with something.

The class itself was cut and dry; Avogrado’s number is important and we’re all made of molecules. Once the lesson was over and the hour was up, you began to pack up your things, particularly slower than your fellow students, who were racing to exit the building.

Once you had your laptop (and pens, pencils, notebook, and calculator) all stored within your bag, you stood from your chair to leave.

“Last one to leave again, huh?” Law’s voice rang out as he stood from his table.

You took a deep breath in, “I guess so, yeah. Last one to wake up, last one to leave.”

“Bad habits can be hard to break,” he advised, walking to the door.

“And that’s why we have alarm clocks,” you muttered, following behind him.

Law snickered at your comment, “That’s what I thought when I was a freshman. They’re pretty effective until you pull three all-nighters in a row.”

“Well, I guess I won’t be pulling any all-nighters, then,” you asserted. “I’ll just have to study before I have a test.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he smirked, turning into a different hallway than you, leaving you behind.

“Maybe I will,” you murmured to yourself, walking out of the building.

You strolled through campus, intent on heading back to your dorm and studying a little, maybe getting lunch with Vi and Nami later.

“____!” a voice shrilled from across your path.

Turning to your left, you saw Usopp and Zoro making their way towards you, the former waving.

“Hey, ____,” Usopp began, “me and Zoro were gonna go to the library and study, wanna come?”

You thought for a moment, “Yeah sure, sounds like fun. I’ve got some work I need to finish up on.”

“Sweet!” Usopp cheered, charging towards the direction of the library. “Follow me, Usoppites!”

You and Zoro gave each other a knowing before the latter shrugged his shoulders, stomping after the young man.

The three of you gathered together at a table, pulling up chairs and setting your notebooks and laptops up on top.

“So,” you began, opening up your computer, “anyone have exciting stories from their first week?”

“It’s only Tuesday,” Zoro groaned, rubbing his forehead and leaning back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes, “That doesn’t mean cool stuff can’t have happened, mossy .”

“Only annoying if it’s from Sanji,” he scoffed, crossing his arms with a tiny smirk on his face. What, was it the curly eyebrows that ruined the name for him?

“I have a story, kind of,” Usopp interjected sheepishly. “It’s about a guy in one of my engineering classes…”

“Well, spit it out,” Zoro grunted.

“Look who’s interested now,” you teased, poking him in the shoulder.

“Never said I wasn’t,” he fired back.

Usopp cleared his throat, “Well, there’s a huge guy in my mechanical engineering class, and I mean massive guy. Everything about him his huge—shoulders, thighs, calves, neck,”

“Dick?” Zoro chuckled, earning a playful shove from you.

“I can only assume so,” Usopp answered honestly. “But anyways, I don’t know why he’s in the class, he’s a junior .”

‘I know a thing or two about juniors,’ you thought to yourself, flipping through your notebook.

“I’ve heard some rumors from other students. A few say that the school’s making him retake the class because he beat up the teacher, but I’ve also heard that he beat up his entire class,” Usopp whispered, looking around as if the student would appear behind him. “But most importantly, people have said that he’s a G-A-N-G leader!”

You and Zoro shared a brief look before turning to Usopp.

“I know that Grand Line isn’t exactly known for its prim and properness, Usopp,” you reasoned, “however, if this guy really beat the shit out of his teacher or class or whatever he did, the school would probably expel him, not make him retake the class.”

“____ has a point,” Zoro yawned, “but there’s probably a reason he has those rumors around him. I’d keep an eye out.”

“No problemo!” Usopp straightened his papers, “I’m keeping a close eye on him, just in case he tries something dastardly. I won’t end up like my predecessors!”

All you could do was hesitantly accept Usopp’s resolution, slightly fearing for his safety if he were to be caught.

“Am I really the only one with a problem student in my classes?” Usopp grumbled, “I thought bad boys would be more widespread at Grand Line…”

“Well, I don’t have a problem student per se,” you lightly coughed, “but I have an assistant in two of my classes, and I think he’s gonna be a pain in my ass.”

Zoro quirked an eyebrow, “You think he’s gonna fail you or somethin’?”

“Well, no,” you admitted, “I just think he’s gonna be a pain in my ass.”

“Repeating what you said doesn’t make your meaning any clearer…” Usopp pointed out, chewing on the back of his pencil.

“Ok, well, it doesn’t matter,” you sighed, glaring down at your papers.

“I have a class with Luffy,” Zoro said coolly.

“What makes you think he counts as a bad boy?!” you and Usopp snarled.

After your little discussion, the three of you began working separately on your assignments. You focused on studying in advance of your next chemistry class, hoping to prove Law wrong in his assumptions. By keeping ahead of your work, you could easily sleep in far longer than intended. At least until you had a morning class. But you could worry about that next semester, or whenever the universe decided to sprinkle a little misfortune in your idealistic college experience. Damned universe.

The silence persisted for an hour, only interrupted by an occasional cough or hurried knee-bouncing beneath the table. Your phone was the first real disturbance, buzzing on the table and causing a light shiver to course through it. You hurriedly removed it and checked to see what caused the notification, spotting a text from Nami.

You looked at Nami’s picture, seeing a selfie of her sitting in the middle of a small tile floor, a sink and shower in the background.

“Alright guys,” you breathed, standing up and gathering your things. “I have been cordially invited to attend a slumber party and must take my leave.”

“Will you be okay walking back alone?” Usopp asked.

You swung your bag over your shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ll call you guys if I need anything.”

“Stay safe,” Zoro muttered, hunched over a stack of papers.

“Yeah, good luck with all that,” you laughed quietly, leaving the library.

“Nami?” you called out, stepping into the hallway of your dorm floor.

“Right here!” Nami’s voice echoed back, spotting you and offering a small wave.

She was sitting up against the wall right next to your dorm room’s door and wearing her pajamas, peeling a small tangerine with her left hand and scrolling on her phone with her right.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she groaned, pointing to a pile of tangerine peels, “I’ve been bored out of my mind waiting for Vi to finish setting up.”

“I assume a picturesque site awaits us behind the door,” you joked, sliding down beside her.

“Ugh, you and your big fancy-pants lingo,” she pouted, popping a tangerine slice into her mouth.

“What, is picturesque too big a word for your shiny golden brain?” you teased. “I’ll rephrase—It’s gonna be real purty in that room! How’d I do?”

Nami jabbed you with her elbow, earning a yelp from you.

“I’ll have you know, Little Miss Knows-a-Lot, that I won my elementary school’s spelling bee when I was—”

Before Nami could finish her retort, the door beside her flew open, revealing a very chipper Vivi dressed in her matching silk pajamas, holding another matching pair and a blindfold.

“Oh, good afternoon, ____! Thank you very much for agreeing to attend my slumber party. I have prepared a pair of pajamas for you to wear, but you’ll have to put on this blindfold to go get changed, I do not want my surprise ruined!”

You nodded, giving Nami a salute before allowing Vivi to lead you blindfolded into the bathroom to get changed. And, after changing, you patiently waited for Vivi to give you the go ahead to leave.

“You done yet, Vi?” you tapped on the bathroom door while reading the labels on everyone's skin care products.

“Almost, I promise!” she hollered back, “I just need to put on the finishing touches to make sure nothing falls down!”

“Falls down?” Nami shouted through the door. “Just what are you doing to our room?”

“Nothing permanent!” Vivi sang, clearly rushing back and forth in the room judging by her voice.

“I’ve had to start reading the backs of shampoo bottles now, Vi! If I run out of labels to read I think I’ll die,” you pleaded.

“Hey, be careful touching my stuff! Break it and you pay for it!” Nami barked, knocking viciously on her door.

“How am I gonna break a shampoo bottle?” you scoffed, placing it back down and reciprocating her violent knocks.

Just as you were about to send another knock Nami’s way, the bathroom door flew open, causing you to stumble forward and onto the floor.

“Oops! I’m so sorry!” Vivi cried, helping you up and opening the door to the dorm.

“Well, let’s see this awesome slumber party room…” Nami started, the words quickly dying on her tongue as she took in the room.

Beautiful was too dull a word to describe how absolutely stunning the room was. The blankets had been rearranged to form a tent structure between the two beds, using a tall stick that had come from who knows where with a base that allowed it to remain firmly planted without fear of toppling over. Little fairy lights decorated the ceiling of the fort, both large and tiny pillows decorated the sides of the fort, and soft, fluffy blankets were scattered about for snuggling purposes. Snacks were stacked within the fort along the bed frames, easily within reach of anyone who wanted anything, bowls sitting underneath a bed. On the other side of the fort was Vivi’s laptop with about fifteen tabs of different streaming services open for your viewing pleasure during this slumber party.

Nami gaped at the sight, “Vi, it’s…”

“...Picturesque?” you breathed, staring in amazement.

“Welcome!” Vivi clasped her hands in excitement before spreading them out, “to my very first slumber party!”

tag list: @sylum , @dimplewonie

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scuttlingcrab · 10 months ago

Note

"The doublet is a magical item, so it can fit and mould to Raphael’s body no matter his form or temper." Now I'm just picturing Raphael transforming in anger while wearing the doublet and his rage is momentarily stopped when he realizes that it transformed with him and wasn't even singed.

Like, I could be incredibly angry with someone, but if I suddenly realized that my dress had pockets in it I know darn well that I'd need to at least stop and take a moment to marvel at that discovery before even thinking about continuing on with my anger. 😅

I was literally working on something similar when you sent your message! I've attached the ask below I was initially responding to. Thank you for your message anon and hope you enjoy! x

"Also, the idea of Raphael showing off his new clothes is just- It just tickles me! I can see him preening and flaunting like a peacock because of Tav's gift. I'd honestly read a sequel piece about that, if you want to write it. I've kinda already fallen in love with the whole idea of a luxury magic tailor Tav that the initial prompt fill and response has created as well as that Tav's potential dynamic with Raphael (and other characters *looking at Gale and his sewing needle quip*) and would absolutely be down to read more of that from you! 👀"

Summary: Raphael is caught off guard by his recent gift from Tav, so he decides to pay his little mouse a visit.

Notes: Read A Perfect Fit, which inspired this continuation.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Dressed to Kill

Raphael stomped through the halls of the House of Hope, shedding his mortal skin. The doublet didn’t set fire when Raphael transformed, instead, it morphed with his growing size. The silk fabric soothed his ridged body, feeling like a warm embrace. Raphael suppressed a scream. Wretched mortal! The debtors scurried out of his path like rats, seeking the shadows for an ounce of solace from the blistering rage.

He passed an open window and jolted to a halt. The blood-red light of Avernus caught the designs of his doublet, causing it to glimmer like diamonds. During his shift, the colour of his clothing changed. It now had a dark golden shimmer, the infernal embroidery a deep blue. He extended his arm, admiring the sleeve as he twisted it only slightly, and watched as the adornment reflected tiny devilish patterns onto the marble floors. The decorations moved, as if dancing. Another interesting, subtle detail.

Staring at these animations, Raphael’s breath calmed, his mind cleared. He stood taller, his head never held so high. Abruptly he spotted one of the debtors staring at him from his peripheral and lowered his hand, slowly turning to face them. Fire burned in Raphael’s eyes as he hissed, barring his sharp teeth. The debtor screeched before scurrying off to continue their meaningless eternal task.

“If I catch just one more incompetent lackey idling about, I will impale your sorry souls on trees and leave you to rot. You are all interchangeable. Do not forget that.”

Raphael watched as the last debtor fled from his sight. He will not be caught off guard again. No. In fact… he will pay that creature a visit.

–

Raphael materialised at the creature's camp in a swirl of flames and sparks, returning to his mortal disguise.

The camp was quiet at this hour, the creatures asleep, separated into their individual makeshift tents. And what a ghastly camp it was, third-rate, at best. Miscellaneous equipment littered every corner, books lay discarded, shoddy clothes hung drying on trees, and the animals… When did these mortals domesticate owlbears? Savages.

He slowly approached Tav’s tent, nestled towards the lake's shoreline. He parted the flap with an index finger and peeked inside. The creature was fast asleep, sharing her tent with that monstrosity Karlach.

He watched them sleeping, so defenceless. He perked up at the thought. If he was so inclined, he could have easily ended their lives, consumed their souls before the tadpoles defiled them; all it would take is a snap of his fingers…

“Rise and shine, little mouse.” Raphael purred.

Tav sprang up from her bed roll, clumsily readying a dagger from her sleeve. She held it out towards Raphael, one eye still closed, as she fought off the interrupted slumber.

Karlach simply turned over in her bedding, yawning and stretching like a cat. She slowly opened her eyes, sitting upright when she spotted Raphael standing at the entrance.

He smirked in response, placing a hand on his hip.

“What the hell is this creep doing here?”

“Good evening to you too, Karlach. I am simply checking in on my prospective clients.”

Raphael bowed deeply, making sure to be as flamboyant as possible in his gesture.

“In the middle of the bloody night? Fuck off, devil.”

Raphael slowly straightened himself, adjusting his sleeves. He aimed his cuffs towards the campfire, taking care to make sure the lighting was just right to highlight the devilish decorations.

“Tut, tut, Karlach, language. If I wanted to hear such hideous sounds I’d speak with a lemure.”

Karlach leapt to her feet, the rickety infernal engine in her chest glowing brighter as she stared daggers at him.

“Karlach, please…”

Tav raised a hand at Karlach, putting away her weapon. She rubbed away the rest of the sleep and focused on Raphael. Her face instantly lit up when she caught sight of his doublet.

“You’re… wearing it?” Tav whispered. She brought her hands to her mouth, attempting to hide her flushed cheeks.

“But of course! How could I resist such a delicious gift? It’s not often a devil like myself comes across a mortal with such curious tastes. Your attention to detail is…”

Raphael dramatically clasped his hands together, as if in a prayer. Yes, indeed. Thank the Gods up above for damning these poor creatures and sending them straight into his claws.

“Superb!”

“Hells, what have you done?” Karlach groaned, rolling her eyes. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

Tav gave Karlach a sidelong glance, narrowing her eyes. Raphael’s smile grew, devouring the creature’s disapproval and embarrassment. Almost as scrumptious as a soul.

“You are quite the seamstress. What else have you been creating on your adventures, hmm? I wonder, what would be the price for another item such as this? Perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement?”

Tav’s mouth hung open at his words.

“I-I-uh, didn’t think that far ahead. Let me sleep on it.”

“Don’t keep me waiting, little mouse. You had my curiosity, but now… you have my full attention.”

Raphael raised his arms out wide, like a peacock strutting their finest feathers. He laughed as he surrounded himself in infernal flames. He had truly stumbled upon his greatest prize, his secret weapon to uniting the Nine Hells. Raphael would reach his target soon, that was for certain, but oh, oh yes... he would look hellishly chic in his pursuits. He would turn heads, devils and mortals alike.

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rays-of-fire-and-ice · 27 days ago

Text

In Your Eyes, in the Ice and Rain

Two Weeks of Hitsuhina - Day 3: Wings / On a Starry night

Rating: T/Teen for violence and mild descriptions of injuries.

Setting: before BLEACH’s main story; Hitsugaya is still a third seat and Hinamori the lieutenant of Fifth Division.

Synopsis: During a battle against a pack of Hollows, Hitsugaya's duties as a Shinigami and sense of self is tested when Hinamori gets hurt.

AN: I'm late for the start of the week, but better late than never!

This was such a random idea. I considered not writing it, but then I got started and it took over. If I had to describe this fic in two words, it’d be ‘high emotions’, so prepare for angst, some hurt/comfort towards the end, and probably some out-of-characterness.

It was partly inspired by the song Farewell, My Friend by There’s a Light (YT | Spotify), but more by two images I got while thinking on this theme: one of Hinamori pleading to Hitsugaya (while he has his bankai activated) to save everyone and he was shocked by this, and the other of Hitsugaya coming to Hinamori’s side when she’s injured, hunched over and holding her hand.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this one.

_____________________

Hinamori is sent hurtling through the air, and Hitsugaya's forget how to breathe. She arcs over the battle, high above everyone’s heads, out of sight and focus of her subordinates and his fellow tenth Division Shinigami.

He doesn’t come out of his shock until her back smacks off a tree trunk and she tumbles through the branches to the ground. He shouts her name, louder than the Hollows' cries around him.

He flash-steps and catches her before she can hit the ground. She lets out a pained cry at the same time one of the Huge Hollow he’d been fighting roars because its prey vanished out of sight. He almost loses his grip on Hyourinmaru, and hefts Hinamori higher up so her head can rest on his shoulder. But she whirls around, looking without seeing, and thrashes against him.

“Hinamori, stop! You're hurt!” he yells, unintentionally making his grip tighter on her. She barely calms her frantic movements, hasn’t even registered that he’s the one holding her.

He glances at Tobiume lying on the ground. He doesn’t have time to pick up the zanpakuto, but kicks it off to the side, into the cover of bushes. He hurriedly retreats away from the battle, going deeper into the forest. The trees do little to shelter them from the rain, with drops showering over him as he runs, and he folds his wings in tightly so they don’t thrash against the low hanging branches or shrubbery in his way.

He ignores the pain lancing up his leg from the wound he’d gotten just minutes ago. The reason she’d come running to him during the battle, seeing him slashed by ones of the Huge Hollows that’d converged on him. After the wound was inflicted, he’d pretended to be at the creatures’ mercy to lure them into a false sense of security. They would lunge for him while he used a bankai technique to freeze them all in place at once. He’d only practice the ability once, but things were getting desperate in the fight and he needed to take more then one down at a time.

But then she’d come charging in, letting out a furious cry as she launched a fireball at one of the Hollow’s backs, setting it alight before leaping up behind it and landing at the nape of its bent neck and bringing Tobiume to cleave the mask in two from behind. Dislodging her blade, she’d kicked off from its head and landed in front of Hitsugaya while it disintegrated to nothing.

She’d launched another fireball at one, sending the Hollow falling back and being attacked by other Shinigami form behind. She’d briefly glanced over her shoulder at him, her gaze wavering between fury and concern within seconds, before returning her attention to Huge Hollows before them. He couldn’t speak, was in awe of her skill but also shocked she had come to his defence. he forgot about his plan, about getting up because the wound didn't truly hinder his ability to stand and fight.

She was halfway through chanting a kido when the Huge Hollow with oversized, clawed hands slashed her left limbs. Before she could even let out a cry, it back handed her, catapulting her away.

Hitsugaya comes out of his recollection when he nearly slips and falls on a slick of mud in the grass. Blinking rain from his eyes, he can’t see but can still hear the battle. It’ll do.

Hinamori, having realised who was carrying her, had stilled her thrashing. “H-Hitsu –” She gasps as he lowers her to the ground, propping her back up against a tree trunk. She groans while clutching her side with her good arm. “Where…?”

“Don’t talk,” he instructs, but his voice is shaky.

Seeing her like this is like the first time he saw her cry; it felt wrong, like something someone like her shouldn't do. Blood runs down her scratched legs and arm, falling either to the ground or being absorbed by the shreds of her uniform. Her hair has been slowly loosening from its usual bun, with the hair cloth missing and the ribbon torn. He supects, judging from the lack of blood not seeping from between her fingers, her side is likely bruised but not torn. Her back is likely the same. There are several tiny cuts across her face and arms, likely from the branches she fell into. Bruising has formed on the side of her neck and her breathing is staggered and wheezing. What if she has a broken rib?

He shakes his head against the nausea and rising panic. “I’ll get started on treatment.”

The rain comes down faster and thicker. Hinamori winces as it pelts over her injuries. Without a second thought, Hitsugaya brings a wing over her head. At the shadow cast over her and the lack of rain hitting her, she blinks and looks up. Her reflection is warped in the ice, it’d be comical if it weren’t for how dire situation was.

“T-Thanks,” she stammers.

He stabs Hyourinmaru into the ground and breaks the ice away from his hands, the blunt talons falling to the earth and melting to slush in the rain. Then he kneels, keeping the wing above her. Fearing she has a concussion, he instructions, “Stay still, okay? Don’t move your head anymore. I’m going to take a look at your injuries.” She lets out a hum, and he takes it as her understanding.

She whimpers when he peels back the remains of her sleeve and hakama leg until the wounds are completely visible. The blood drains from his face and the world briefly spins at the sight of her leg injury; that’ll need Fourth Division’s work. There is only so much he can do for such a wound, but her kido surpasses his. He cringes at the idea of her having to treat her own injury while in this state, but they don’t have any other options.

He gingerly wraps his fingers around the wrist of her bad arm. “I can heal this one. Once I seal it over, you heal the one on your leg and I’ll work on your side and back.”

“It really hurts.” She starts to look down. “Is it that bad?”

“Don’t look yet,” he instructs softly, laying a light touch on her shoulder. “It’s…just don’t look until you need to.”

He expects her to make a sound while moving her arm, but she doesn’t. He doesn't think about, just chants for the healing kido. He gets no relief even when the teal glow emanates from his palms over the scratches. She winces through gritted, but it’s only when he looks up to reassure her that he realises she’d returned to looking at Hyourinmaru’s wing.

“This is your bankai…” She’s breathless still and there’s a slight slur in her speech, but her dazed gaze has turned into something akin to awe despite the pain.

“Yes,” he says, even though she hadn’t posed it as a question.

“I never seen it in battle before,” she breathes. “It’s incredible.”

The small cuts on her arm heal beneath the kido and the larger wound scabs over; with any luck, it’s healing internally too.

Hitsugaya sighs. How can he get her to focus on herself? “Forget about the battle. I’ll help with healing your leg before working your side.”

“I saw you out there,” she continues, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Before that Hollow attacked you, you were turning the tide for us.”

His heart aches. If she’d only known that he’d had a plan, that she was never meant to get involved. No, that’s not it. He shouldn’t have been so reckless. He should've just cut the Hollows down one at a time. He shouldn't have gotten carried away with watching her protect him when she didn't need to.

“Hitsugaya-kun?”

His breath hitches. The kido beneath his trembling palms flickers. With a frustrated grunt, he resumes focusing on the healing her. “I’m almost done.”

“You’re doing great.” Her pained smile says otherwise. Even in times like this, she’s reassuring him, making sure he is okay.

From the distance, a harrowing scream rings out through the air. With it, it brings back the clashing of swords against bone, cries echoing around the battlefield, and howls and animalistic sounds of the Huge Hollows. It’s as if he’d muted the battle until now. Hinamori’s brow furrows, and her gaze sharpens. “No…”

It’s several heartbeats later when Hitsugaya deactivates the kido. It’s not enough, it'll have to do; he should be able to do more. “Come on, let’s heal your leg. You ready?”

He shifts to get closer, wincing as he moves his own injured leg. And the moment he let the sound escape his lips, he curses under his breath.

Her frown deepens.

“Hinamori --”

“Where are you hurt?” she asks, her gaze searching him head to toe.

“It’s nothing, forget about it.”

Her eyes land on his leg and she lets out an alarmed grunt. Hitsugaya can’t help but look too. His sock is bloodied, and the gash he’d received from the Hollow peaks out at the top.

She straightens, peeling her back from the trunk, and moves her uninjured arm towards his ankle. “You should’ve said something!”

“Stop it!”

Her finger sturggles to pull down his sock.

“Hinamori, it’s not serious,” he tries to reassure, but his voice comes out strained. “Your injury is. I’m not the one bleeding out here.”

She shakes her head, and much to his horror, she raises her injured arm with a groan and brings it to his ankle, and it helps to bring his sock down. He thinks to jerk his ankle away, but he fears the sudden movement would startle her and reopen her arm wound.

Hands hover over the wound and she begins to chant.

He grabs her uninjured arm. “Hinamori, stop it, now.”

She ignores him, completing the chant and activating the kido. A fresh wave of pain shoots up his leg, and at his grimace, her frown softens away. “Sorry.”

He can’t work on healing her leg while she’s doing this, not without causing her pain. He lets out a shaky breath. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re hurt.” She says it as if that answered everything.

As soon as the kido spreads out across the gash, his flesh knits over itself rapidly, and the pain is soothed away to a dull ache.

It harshly shakes his head. “You need to focus on yourself, idiot. Use your kido on yourself.”

“I can’t.” The tremor in her voice renders him speechless. “Not while they’re all still out there and you’re in danger, I can’t.”

His heart thuds so hard he hears it in his ears. Battlefield are always chaotic, but even being away from it, he’s lost control of this. “What are you saying?”

She doesn’t speak, only stares at him. It’s one of the rare times he can’t read her expression. “Come on, what?”

She presses her lips tightly for a moment before she speaks. “I don’t want you to fight, but…if you don’t, you’re all in danger.” She lowers her gaze with a whimper. “Why did it have to be like this?”

Still cryptic. He can only conclude she’s concussed, not knowing what she’s saying or doing.

Not even three minutes later, she deactivates the kido and pulls his sock back up. He can’t see how it looks, but there’s still a faint ache. She’s not at the level of Fourth Division, but he can run on his leg without much issue.

“Okay, fine, you’ve healed me. Now come on, your leg!” He’s quick to position his hands over the injury, the beginnings of the kido chant on his tongue.

“You need to go back there.”

That halts him. “What?”

“They need you at the battle.”

Beneath the wet hair plastered to her face, the dirt smudging her face and the bruising forming on her jaw, there’s a grim determination.

“Don’t be a fool,” he mutters.

She winces, but not from the pain of her injuries. “You have to go back and fight, Shiro-chan.”

Hearing the nickname triggers a rush of anger in him. “No!" he snaps. "If we don’t heal these now before Fourth Division get here, the damage might be irreparable. I’m not leaving you!”

“Forget about me, go and help them,” she rasps, bordering on begging. “The fight out there is getting worse, but your bankai can help change the outcome. I don’t want you to go out there and get hurt again but…you have the power to end this. Please, you have to go back there! I’ll be okay.”

“Hinamori, stop this --”

He’s cut off when she suddenly grabs his shoulder and pulls him forward. Too stunned, he barely remembers to keep the wing over her let alone throw out a hand to prop him away from the tree she rests against.

“Remember your duties as a Shinigami," she whispers. "We serve and protect the Seireitei and the Soul Society. We protect our fellow officers in battle, our friends."

The reminder should’ve been like a bucket of cold water dunked over him, but all he can focus on is the blood in the corner of his eye.

He grits his teeth against the tremulous feeling rushing through him. “You weren’t supposed to get involved. Why did you jump in? I had a plan.”

She blinks. “What?”

“Back there, I was…” He can't get the words out. Pathetic.

She takes his free hand in hers. They’re so close that all he sees is her wide, glassy eyes. “Go. They need you…please. Please, Shiro-chan, please.”

His heart stammers. She’s begging him for something. She should never have to do that, not with him. Not for the safety of others.

The sounds of battle reach his ears again. He’s selfish, because in the end, it’s her he wants to protect, and her who he has failed. But she’s counting on him, believing in him as she always has, to protect everyone.

He hardens his expression and withdraws his hand from hers. Standing, he reaches across and dislodges his zanpkauto from the ground. The ice he’d broken off before quickly regrows, engulfing his hands and ending with sharper talons.

It gives him an idea. Warning Hyourinmaru before he raises his weapon, he raises his right arm and hits the area above the wing’s joint with pommel. The ice cracks. Hinamori lets out a startled grunt, but he continues to strike at the ice until the wing breaks off.

"W-What're you...?" She watches him in bewilderment while he manoeuvres the broken off ice to cover her from the rain. A new wing rapidly grows, collecting the falling rain and melding it into the ice to freeze.

He steps back several paces, not looking away from her. He wants to say something, but finds he has no words. He’s simultaneously emboldened and uncertain.

She offers a grateful, strained smile.

Before his resolve can break, he snaps Hyourinmaru’s wings and shoots into the sky. Tree branches rattle and leaves fall in his wake when eh breaks from the treeline into the sky.

High in the air, he twists around in the direction of the battle and with another powerful flap he shoots himself higher into the sky, gliding high above the forest that encompasses the area. From up here, he can tell which direction the Hollows had originally come by the destruction they left in their way. It’s as though a line of the forest had been gauge out, with trees snapped in two or completely uprooted and the earth upturned.

Only a minute later he’s overhead of the battling Hollows and Shinigami. He can’t distinguish which Shinigami belongs to Tenth or Fifth, doesn’t even recognise which one is Rangiku. From this height, they seem so small.

The Hollows, however, have more distinguishin features. He spots the Huge Hollow that had thrown Hinamori away. His grip on Hyourinmaru tightens and his blood simmers in his veins. For all of his conviction in fulfilling her wish, he still puts his own will above it.

I’ll protect her.

He comes overhead of the creature. The rest of battle fades out.

He stops flapping his wings, sharply falling through the sky. Rain and wind whip against him, and it only fuels the growing anger. While in this state, the weather is under his control. With a mere twist of Hyourinmaru, the rain gets thicker and the clouds gather, darkening the area. His reiatsu flashes across his skin in white-blue currents. Against powerful gusts of wind and the forces sending plummeting to the ground, he raises Hyourinmaru. As the features of everyone becomes clearer – the Hollows’ masks, the Shinigami either engaged in battles or the few who, wide-eyed and mouths agape, notice his rapid descent – he lets out a cry. Combined with the howl of the wind, it sounds like a roar.

Most of the Hollows have stopped to look at him. Did they think he was one of them? Has he become monstrous in his fury? It didn’t matter.

He flares Hyourinmaru’s wings out when he’s only several meters from the Huge Hollow who’s struck Hinamori. The creature, realising what’s about to happen, roars and raises it’s oversized hands at the last minute. It’s too late. Hitsugaya stabs Hyourinmaru through the mask, and from it, ice bursts out and rapidly covers it’s grey-purple skin. A cold wave comes from the attack, washing over everyone in the area and shuddering and bending the trees.

The Hollow’s mouth is unhinged wide, stuck in shock. Before it begins to disintegrate, he withdraws Hyourinmaru and kicks off from the creature’s head, landing in the mud.

Hitsugaya’s shoulders heave with each heavy breath, which fogs in the cooling air. He glares at the next Hollow, frozen in place by what it saw. And it wasn’t the only one. Most of them are staring at him, and even some Shinigami are. Eyes wide, lips trembling from either the sudden cold that’d descended over them or from something like shock or confusion.

The Hollows that saw his attack fall into a frenzy, bellowing or snarling, before converging on him all at once. He’s too angry to be afraid, and raises Hyourinmaru against the closest one. He unleashes a flurry of ice, striking the Hollow and sending it crashing back into another.

“Ryusenka!”

Ice erupts from Hyourinmaru and strikes the two Hollows, encasing them before they can cry out. Hitsugaya lunges forward and smashes the ice, breaking to two apart into pieces that disintegrate.

From behind, a hunched over Huge Hollow charges, tusks aiming to gorge him. He swings his zanpakuto around, ready to duck under and cut into it’s underbelly.

There’s a flash of movement to his right, and he almost swings his sword at the figure who’s appear at his side. Rangiku – hair wet and bedraggled, mud smeared on her face and arms, and a thin cut above her brow smudges with dried blood – makes Haineko form a neko rinbu around them. The Huge Hollow, cut from the tiny pieces of blade, stumbles back with a yelp before it and the other Hollows disappear from view.

“What was that?!” she yells over the whirl of Haineko. “What’s gotten into you?!”

“You need to call the Captains and Fourth Division, now!”

“Why?”

“Because we’re about to end this fight!”

A hand, protected by bone-like armour, lunges through the ash cloud. Hitsugaya spins and slashes into the knuckle, breaking through the plating and sending a flurry of ice racing up its arm. The hand vanishes through the ash. At the screams of both Hollows and Shinigami happening beyond, Rangiku winces and dissipates the cloud.

“You’ve got some explaining to do later!” she yells, before leaping to cut the clawed hand hauling up a badly injured Shinigami.

After that, the battle is a blur. He is not like those in Eleventh Division, prompt to losing themselves in bloodlust, but his strikes are fierce and quick, and regardless of the combat between a Hollow and Shinigami, he intervenes, cutting through mask after mask after mask.

His blood boils, and he feels his face contort into an unrecognisable, furious shape. It doesn’t come entirely from the hatred for the creature he’d slain before. No, he’s angry at himself. At his failure to heal Hinamori, to prevent harm coming to her. He’s angry that their lives are like, filled with danger he can’t always protect her from.

After he cuts down a spider-like Hollow, Hitsugaya spins around, ready for the next, only to see there are none. The Shinigami, whether they’re standing or trying to prop themselves up from the mud, struggle to catch their breaths and look around. The forest had been full of Huge Hollows breaking through the trees, their stampede shaking the ground and their animalistic cries tearing through the air above the rain. Now, everything is still and silent save for the torrential rain.

As if most come to some realization at the same time, many turn to look at him. Fraught emotions tumbling within him still under the scrutiny of his fellow Tenth Division members and those in Fifth. Some look at him in confusion – likely not knowing he had achieved bankai – a few in concern, and the rest in either awe or wariness.

He’s breathing too hard, his limbs shake so fiercely from the adrenaline and harsh beating of his heart. The rain cools his skin. It’s the latter that makes him straighten, and with a silent command to Hyourinmaru, the rain lessens, returning to how it is meant to be.

Above his head, he only has one ice petal left. He withholds a cringe. In such short time he'd overexerted his powers. After a long, quiet breath out, he deactivates his bankai and sheathes Hyourinmaru across his back. It sends out a cold pulse, ruffling the uniforms and hair of those standing near him and disturbing the rainfall for a second.

“I’ve called for Fourth Division!” Rangiku yells from somewhere behind him, making everyone turn their attention to her. He stares at the ground as she continues, “They’ll be here soon, along with Captain Ishiin and Captain Aizen! For anyone without injury, we need to get the injured into the shade and start healing them, now!”

Hinamori.

He snaps out of his stupor and runs between rushing Shinigami.

As soon as he sees her, he shouts, “Matsumoto!”

She looks over her shoulder, then fully turns once he’s close. “Don’t think I didn’t see your ankle before, you need to –”

“Hinamori isn’t here!” He points in the direction he’d come flying from. “She’s badly wounded, she needs help, now!

Rangiku’s eyes widened. “No wonder I couldn’t find her,” she mutters to herself. Then, while running with him in Hinamori’s direction, she asks, “What kind of injuries?”

“Her arm and leg. She can’t walk, and I’m certain she’s concussed.”

Rangiku swears and wipes the hair from her face. She searches for any Shinigami still standing around. At the sight of one officer from their division and another Hitsugaya didn’t know, she calls out to them. “If you haven't got anyone to help, come with me right now!”

They sprint over and fall into line behind them. Hitsugaya casts out his sense. Hinamori's reiatsu flickers from her injuries.

"You sense her too?" he asks Rangiku.

"Yeah, she's not far from here."

“We’ll also need to retrieve her zanpakuto. Tobiume is under the bushes in that same direction, just look for her hilt.”

Rangiku nods. “We'll take care of it.

“What? No, I – ”

“Your ankle will get worse. Stay here, Fourth will arrive shortly.”

“I --”

“That’s an order!”

He’s stunned by her authoritative air. He knows she’s capable of it, but she rarely uses it on him. That isn’t what causes him to slow his run and then come to a stop. It’s the way her eyes soften with knowingness.

He stands at the edge of the tree line, watching Rangiku and the other two Shinigami until they’re out of sight and the flora they’d disturbed stops swaying. After taking down as many Hollows as he did, ending the battle quicker in the Seireitei’s favor, he can't if it's exhaustion or the sense of helplessness that makes him sag against a tree .

At some point he raises his hand and simply watches the rain collect then pool in the center of his palm. He stares at his reflection, colorless and broke apart by raindrops. In an instant he's nothing more than swirling, wavy lines, but they bounce back form him, only a drop to hit and ripple. At times he is nothing but warped lines, and in an instant, he's reformed only for a drop of water to hit and ripple.

It's several minutes later when three whole squads of Fourth Division medics arrive. Most go to the severely wounded first, then rest approach others with minor injuries.

He stumbles away from the tree and waits. Eventually two medics come to him. He only speaks when he needs to, answer their question before they begin treatment. His ankle is as good as new five minutes later. At the comment from one of the Fourth Division Shinigami about how the healing on it was good before they tended to him, he hurriedly walks away without thanking them.

He searches for Hinamori. He hadn't seen Rangiku and the officers come out of the forest, but he can hear the lieutenant's voice echo from somewhere in the area. Around him, uninjured and healed quietly gather and speak to each other, comforting each other or relishing their victory. Those receiving treatment remain in the shades of trees, but some are on stretchers being carried away. He pauses at the sight of a medic placing a spare shihakusho over the face and chest of someone on stretcher. He doesn’t recognize the Shinigami, which meant it’s likely someone from Fifth Division. Had the officer passed before or during his return to battle?

He shoves the thought aside and staggers onward. In the chaos, death is inevitable in battle, they all know that. Somehow, it doesn’t stop the pang that comes with losing a fellow Shinigami, even one he didn't know.

It’s not long before he finds Hinamori when he left her. She lies on a stretcher next to what little remains of Hyourinmaru's wing. She's her hooded eyes look between the two Fourth Division members tending to her. Aizen is kneeling at her side and speaking to her with his back turned to Hitsugaya. He feels a modicum of relief that Tobiume is at her side; Rangiku must have found the weapon.

Several meters behind him, there's a few Shinigami who were carried to be under shelter being tended to as well. He feels a few stares at his back, but he ignores them.

He keeps his distance, observing one medic finishing bandages her arm, while the other continues to cast healing kido over her leg. She shouldn’t be there. She should be standing like so many others here, lifting the spirits of those who lost a comrade today or have witnessed a horrific battle like this one was for the first time.

“You did remarkably well.”

Hitsugaya isn’t startled by Aizen, who has left Hinamori’s side and approaches him. If this were any other situation, he might have thought it funny to see him this drenched and his hakama muddied.

“Without you, I'm certain we would’ve had more causalities,” Aizen continues. “I’ll be sure to tell Captain Shiiba what your efforts did today once he gets here. From what my officers have told me, your bankai is something to be admired, Hitsugaya-kun.”

He sniffs and looks past the captain back to Hinamori. “I’m still training.”

“There’s always room for improvement, but this victory today is thanks to your abilities.” Aizen follows his gaze, and after a beat, offers in the way of sympathy, “I know it’s hard seeing Hinamori-kun like this, but you know she’ll pull through. She’s always been strong, nothing ever holds her back or brings her down.”

That softens him, because it’s the first thing the captain has said today that Hitsugaya agrees with. She’s strong enough to be a lieutenant. She was strong enough to remain his friend, to stand by him when the world and he himself tried to tell her otherwise, even when the enormity of his power became obvious to her.

She’s strong enough to ask him to fight for others when she needed the help and protection the most. She had the strength to see all of these Shinigami as important to her. Everyone, except herself.

“From what she told me about what happened," Aizen continues, "if it weren’t for you, I’m certain her injuries would’ve been worse.”

Hitsugaya manages to not double over but he can’t withhold a grimace.

Aizen frowns at his reaction. “I apologise. Did I say something wrong?”

Hitsugaya stiffly shakes his head but refuses to look at the captain.

"If you're sure." Aizen shifts, half turning away. “I’m sure you’ll discuss today with Captain Shiiba. However, my door is open to you and Lieutenant Matsumoto if you need another set of ears.” He bows his head. “I’ll leave you be. Take care.”

Hitsugaya brows furrow when instead of walking past him, the captain approaches the Fourth Division members, speaking with them for a minute, before they bow to him and move on to the next patient behind him. Aizen gives Hitsugaya a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes before he leaves.

It occurs to Hitsugaya once the captain is out of his sight, aside from Shinigami being healed behind him, he and Hinamori are alone. He doesn’t fight the compulsion to go and kneel at her side. She’d been staring ahead until he comes into her peripheral. Most of the blood and dirt has been wiped away, but her skin is too pale. He can’t judge whether the haziness in her eyes is from the concussion, something the medics gave her to ease the pain, or exhaustion. Still, there’s a flicker of recognition as her gaze takes in his face.

Her lips part to say something, but nothing comes out. Her chest heaves with a shuddering breath that's dangerously close to a sob.

Without thinking, he takes her good hand between his two own. “I did it, just like you asked.” He loathes the vulnerability in his words, but he only said them because he wants her to be happy.

She blinks slowly, taking in his words. The corners of her eyes moisten. Again she tries to speak, “I’m…sor…”.

He bites the inside of cheek hard. Why is she trying to apologize?

“You don’t have to talk. You’re going to be okay,” he says, more as reassurance to himself. “Everyone’s okay now, we’re safe.”

His words aren’t true. What of that Shinigami who passed away? He can’t have been the only one.

He bows his head. "It shouldn't have been like this. I thought I was outsmarting them, but I ended up getting you hurt."

She swallows, takes in a long breath. His words don't sink in immediately, but when they do, she weakly shakes her head. "No. I'm sorry I...I shouldn't have --"

"Hinamori--"

"--asked you to..." Twitchingly, the corners of lips rise. “But I...knew you could do it. You're incredible, Shiro-chan. Truly.”

He lets out a strangled grunt before bowing over her, his forehead coming to rest on hers. Her smile widens, and she softly shuts her eyes. He closes his own, to try and calm his racing heart and to shut out any onlookers. He’s certain they’d deem his reaction overwrought, especially considering she isn't dying from her injuries. But they don’t know he’s reason she’s hurt, or that without her, he’d have no bankai.

Why did it have to be like this? This isn’t how their lives were meant to go. But what did he expect? The life of a Shinigami is fraught with danger. They have a duty to protect the Soul Society, to lay their lives on the line if need be for it and each other. Why should that have to apply to her?

Without her, his life would be so different. It had come with bad memories, but more than that, it’s come with ones that gave him hope when there hadn’t been any, and she had done so with only her words and kindness. The world needs her, more than it needs him.

He can’t let this happen again, because what good is having this power if he can't protect her from threats or his own foolishness? His prodigal status is something others revere, something coveted by the Seireitei and rare among Shinigami, to the point of loneliness for those that harness it. He should be able to fight like no other, and yet she's still here, still trying to protect him in battle. She shouldn’t be, not after everything she’s already done for him. Not when he has the strength and power to do the same.

I won’t let you get hurt ever again. He opens his eyes, and hers remain closed as he leans back. I’ll get stronger so that I can always protect you.

It feels like a vow, seared into his very being, one that he can never revoke even if he wanted to. One he will never speak aloud to her or anyone else. It’s for him and him alone to carry.

His hold on her hand tightens. When she squeezes it back, his heart clenches. Slowly, she opens her eyes, and he stares at his reflection in them. It doesn’t ripple and warp like the one in the water. He isn't colorless, shaded by the brown of her irises. It’s him, bloodied and sodden. No longer a child, but not an adult either. A Shinigami, gifted with a power few will ever have across the centuries. A power she helped bring forth without ever knowing, and one that will be wielded to ensure her happiness.

______________________

AN: I never do author's notes at the end of a fic, but for this one I felt I needed to.

I have to admit, I got pretty emotional writing this one, and I think it shows ^^; I don't know why though, because I've written far more angsty fics before this one. Maybe it's because of the song that contributed to it's inspiration, or maybe it was because I was feeling down at the time of writing it (I'm feeling better now though). I don't know...

I still hope you all enjoyed it.

I ended up putting Hitsugaya in difficult scenario. Not only did he feel he needed to choose between Hinamori and the other Shinigami, but that he'd come up with a plan and feels responsible for Hinamori getting hurt even though he couldn't have foresaw her involvement.

I feel like while trying to figure his bankai out, Hitsugaya would experiment with what tactics he uses in battle and how he can control his powers, and he's also figuring out just how much his sense of duty means to him. He's serious about his role as a Shinigami, but when he's faced with someone he cares about getting harmed, that goes out the window in furious fashion; similar to how he is by the time of the main story, but lacking the better control and resolve he has by that point -- for instance, I think a younger, less experienced Hitsugaya would've abandoned his fight with Harribel after Hinamori got injured by Ayon to go help her. And he's still coming to terms with being a Shinigami, and with Hinamori also being one. It's a dangerous path for both of them, and they went into it for different (but some similar in a way) reasons.

While writing for this aspect in particular, I thought there might be a tragic element to their bond and particular traits even before they were put under the strain of Aizen's betrayal. Hitsugaya cares about others, but there's only a select few he feels close to, and if any of them are harmed or killed, it has the potential to make him abandon everything he's built for himself. Hinamori cares about more people, but it also means she has more people to worry about or lose in times of crisis. Their bond is precious for these reasons, but also tenuous because they've nearly lost each other way too many times. That Hinamori could ask Hitsugaya to do anything and that there's likely very little he would not do for her out his care and will to protect her, even if it means harm coming to himself physically, emotionally, or to everything he has built for himself. It comes from a lack of maturity to a great extent, I think, which is why he is quick to anger in the main series when Aizen antagonizes him about Hinamori.

Still, because Hinamori cares as deeply as does for as many people as she does, even when she loses someone or goes through a hard time, there will always be someone there for her and she can be there for them if they need her, whether it's Izuru and Renji being her Academy buddies, Shinji and Rangiku there to help her after Aizen betrayal, or Hitsugaya in this fic being by her side while she's recovering from an injury. For Hitsugaya, having those few people who he deeply cares about and who care about him in return is his motivation to get stronger, to be greater than what or who he thinks he is. He's chosen to let Hinamori in as close as he has, and it comes with it's benefits and drawbacks. And how could he not? She was one of the few who cared for him when only his Granny did. One of the few who has been a constant in his life. She accepted him whole-heartedly, and he in turn didn't see her strong will to see the good in others and willingness to help as weaknesses like some would.

He would do anything for her because he deeply cares, but I think he also sees the goodness she brings those around her and believes the world needs more people like her. He doesn't see that in himself, instead focusing on his powers and ability to protect her and others -- things I think were put at the forefront of his mind by his Academy lecturers and senior Shinigami noting his prodigal status and also by his low self esteem from his struggles in the Junrinan.

But Hinamori does see in him the very same qualities he sees in her as well as his powers and fighting talents. In this fic, she trusts him with fighting for everyone, and in a better state of mind, I don't think she would ask him to do what he did here (or when pleading for him to save Aizen in the main series). Then again, she may have asked him due to the duties of a Shinigami and trusting and believing in Hitsugaya's abilities. But even when everyone is safe, she still felt the need to apologize, even when she knew he could win and believed in him.

In the end, Hitsugaya doesn't care about having these powers for the sake of fighting or status. He cares about the people he cares for, and will use the powers he has to protect them. Even with her admiration for Aizen blinding her to who he is and making her focus on working at his side, Hinamori has a strong sense of duty and care towards those she fights alongside, whether they're strangers or her friends. She believes in Hitsugaya, in his abilities and his goodness as a person. It's why she smiles when they touch foreheads, in relief that he's safe and in knowing he cares. In her eyes, he doesn't need to change, he the stable constant for most of her life. but Hitsugaya didn't see that; he saw what he thought he needed to become.

I hope I was able to convey all of this.

I know as a fan of something there's a tendency to over-read into the smallest things, and in this case maybe that's what I've done, but while writing this fic, I couldn't help but feel and think about all of these aspects. I see the potentials from the bread crumbs we got in the main series and I always want to explore them.

If you've made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my fic and this author's note, I sincerely appreciate it.

#hitsuhina #toshiro hitsugaya #momo hinamori #two weeks of hitsuhina 2024 #bleach #fanfiction #angst #I also had a completely different ending for this fic #I was conflicted right up to the last minute about which ending I should go with #I might post it #I was also conflicted on the title #kept think if it should be 'In Your Eye in the Rain'#or what I went with because I wanted to include the ice too #and yes what Aizen said was deliberate #he knew what he saying there before he left

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hungermakesmonsters · 4 months ago

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Love, Sick Love

Sneak Peek

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] This whole story will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking.

A/N : It felt weird not to post something on a Friday, so here is the first 1000 words of my next Billy fic. At the end I've put a more exhaustive explanation of the themes and potentially triggering content that might come up during the course of the story so if you're not sure if this fic is for you, I recommend checking that out. Anyway, I'm super excited for this one and I hope to have the first chapter up on the 6th of September. (I'm also testing the tag list with this post, if you want to be added let me know!) .

Sneak Peek

“So, how was your date?”

You were barely through the door when the question was mercilessly thrown your way, the few patrons drinking the afternoon away in Sam’s lifting their heads to glance your way before quickly losing interest. Thankfully, they didn’t care how your date had gone the night before nearly as much as your co-worked Jenna did.

Sam’s wasn’t exactly the sort of place where people cared to get to know each other. The bar had a reputation, the kind of reputation that regularly had cops posted outside the door, waiting to scoop up patrons at closing time, though they rarely dared set foot through the door. And that was why it suited you just fine. Aside from the occasional drunk thinking he might be lucky enough to get in your pants, people didn’t care who you were or where you were from, a courtesy you were more than happy to return.

So, while there was a snicker or two around the bar, no one but Jenna was interested in your love life.

Or, lack thereof.

You shrugged off your jacket as you made your way around the bar, hanging it along with your purse in the small staff room before heading out to start your shift.

“So, it didn’t go well then,” Jenna stated, eyeing you up and down as you stepped out of the back.

“Hi Jenna.” You said in an overly forced, perky tone, clearly avoiding the question. “How are you, Jenna?”

“Wow that bad?”

You’d often thought to yourself that Jenna would be better suited working for the FBI instead of tending bar; she knew how to get people to talk and she had a dogged tenacity when it came to things she wanted to know. But, fortunately for the criminal element, Jenna was only interested in gossip, bitching, and information that could be used to her advantage. She was your closest friend and a constant pain in your ass for all of the above reasons.

“Is it that obvious?” You finally relented, giving her a slither of what she craved.

The look she fixed you with was more than enough to answer the question.

“You’re wearing your fuck-me boots and that’s never a good sign,” she said with a knowing grin, obviously impressed with herself. “Wasn’t it the third date? Don’t tell me he left you high and dry...”

All it took was a slight look of disappointment on your face for less than a second for her to have the whole story.

“Oh - oh, okay,” she said and for a single, solitary second, you hoped that she’d drop it. But, of course, she didn’t. “So, how bad are we talking?”

“It wasn’t bad,” you answered, turning away from her, acting like you were checking stock, “just... disappointing.”

“He didn’t make you come?” She asked, loud enough that anyone close enough could hear. Fortunately you weren’t easily embarrassed. “I thought you said he was a doctor? Isn't he supposed to have a good grasp of… anatomy?”

Your eyes rolled as you threw her a glance over your shoulder.

“He’s a physiotherapist, not a gynaecologist.”

Not that that distinction made it any better. Disappointing sex was disappointing sex at the end of the day.

“Are you gonna see him again?” Jenna asked, biting back a laugh.

“And waste another evening on unappealing sex? No thanks. I think I’m just gonna swear off men,” you sighed dramatically, barely holding back a smirk.

“Or,” Jenna started, really drawing out that one little syllable, “maybe you need to stop only going for the safe guys and expecting Captain America to give you what you need.”

Your cheeks heated a fraction as you burst into laughter. It was a good thing that no one who could overhear understood that Captain America was what Jenna liked to call the dildo she’d bought you as a prank secret Santa gift last Christmas on account of it being a red, white and blue, unlicensed Captain America sex toy that claimed on the box to be an exact replica of Steve Roger’s dick.

It had become a private joke between the pair of you, though you’d never dare admit to her just how much mileage you’d actually gotten from the toy.

“Seriously, you need to lower your standards and find a guy who’s willing to just fuck your brains out,” Jenna continued, still utterly oblivious (or perhaps just indifferent) to the half dozen men trying to enjoy their drinks within earshot. “We could go to that biker bar just off the highway again and -”

“Aren’t we barred?” You asked. “Or, more to the point, aren’t you barred?”

“That’s what makes it more fun.”

Again, you rolled your eyes and, finally, you had a look around the bar. It was still quiet, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. As soon as it started getting dark out, the place would be packed, wall to wall.

That was when you noticed him, sat at the end of the bar, slightly hunched over and with no drink in front of him. You looked to Jenna and gave a nod in his direction, and she shrugged in response, leaving you to deal with him. If he’d overheard any of your conversation with Jenna, he didn’t seem interested. For a moment, you hung back, not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on in his head but, finally, you forced your customer service smile to lips and made your approach.

“Hey, what can I get you?” You asked.

When he looked up your heart stuttered. His face was littered with scars, but they weren’t the cause of the violent pounding in your chest, in fact, after first glance you barely noticed them. No, it was his dark eyes and the way he looked at you, the way he looked through you. For a few seconds you dared to believe you might drown in his gaze (and that maybe you’d enjoy it).

Content and general warnings going for this whole fic : while I’m going to put appropriate TWs at the start of any chapter that require them as usual, I wanted to give a general overview of what this fic might contain so people can make an informed decision whether or not to engage with this fic. If you are uncomfortable with any of the following, please consider not reading. Ultimately this is a Dark Romance and will contain themes like stalking and intimidation. At no point will it contain non-con perpetrated by Billy on the reader character, however there will be moments of unwanted kissing and physical contact, but it won’t get any worse than that. There will be explicit smut (we’re talking rough and dirty) and Billy’s actions/behaviour at times will be pretty gross. And there will be non-graphic discussions/allusions to non-con and murder, with regards to character’s pasts (i.e. Billy’s assault by Arthur) later on in the story.

At its heart this is going to be a dark and toxic romance and it should go without saying that I don’t condone this sort of behaviour in real life. If you do not enjoy or feel you will be triggered by the aforementioned themes, please give this fic a miss.

(I'm just testing the tag list, but if you want adding/removing let me know!)

Tag List : @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @sweetserendipity65 @dreadfulxives18 @snowkestrel @ladyblacky

@readingabouthim @cheshirecat484 @broadwaybabe18 @oliviaewl

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steddieasitgoes · 1 year ago

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@steddiemas Day 22 Prompt: Santa Shenanigans

Tags: Established Relationships, Recreational Drug Use, Banter, Humor

wc: 1628 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve and Eddie are in the midst of a never-ending card game of War when the stairs leading up to Eddie’s front door creak letting them know Jonathan’s arrived. He called half an hour ago, wondering if Eddie was free for a hang out with him and Mary Jane.

It’s not uncommon for the two of them to shoot the shit while getting high, but usually, Steve’s not there. It’s not that he and Jonathan aren’t cool with each other — they are! Eddie and Jonathan usually hang out when Steve’s scheduled for work, is all.

As Eddie struggles to get himself off the floor, grumbling and swearing the entire time, Steve focuses his attention on cleaning up the cards. There’s no point in littering the table with more shit when they’re about to get high. Besides, he was getting tired of the game anyway.

“Thanks again for letting me come over on short notice,” Jonathan says, voice slightly muffled meaning he hasn’t stepped inside yet.

“Anytime, man,” Eddie says. “My humble abode is your humble abode.”

“Oh,” Jonathan pauses, locking eyes with Steve. “Hi, Steve. Didn’t know you’d be here.”

He catches the way Jonathan's brows pinch in frustration. Judging by the grimace that follows it has nothing to do with Steve’s presence and everything to do with Jonathan’s less-than-stellar greeting. The Steve of the past would have called him out on it, but the Steve of today could not care less and offers him a genuine finger wiggle wave in return.

“Sorry, Byers. You’re going to have to share the grass with a third tonight,” Steve teases as he pulls himself up onto the couch from the floor.

“I would share with just about anyone at this point if it gets me out of the house.”

Eddie winces, shaking his head. “Trouble at the homestead?” he asks, voice louder than usual as he tracks down the hallway toward his bedroom. Steve doesn’t have to ask to know he’s getting his stash.

“Not really,” Jonathan says as he collapses onto the corner couch cushion across from Steve. He runs a hand over his face before speaking again. “El just learned about Santa so we’re in full Santa Claus mode now. I’ve never seen Hop so stressed in his life.”

“Isn’t she too old to believe in Santa?”

“She’s only 14!” Eddie shouts louder than necessary as he hustles back into the room.

“Exactly! That’s like ancient by Santa standards, isn’t it?”

“It’s not!” Eddie defends. “It’s a perfectly respectable age to still believe in Santa.”

Well, that’s different, Steve thinks, as he and Jonathan exchange a confused glance, shoulder shrugging and everything. He watches for a moment as Eddie’s tactful fingers line and roll the first joint of the afternoon. It’s almost enough to distract him from the recent Santa development. Almost.

“I don’t know, Eds. I think I stopped believing when I was like 7? Maybe, 8?”

“Yeah, same. S’kinda hard to believe in the big man when you’re helping your mom wrap presents for your brother because dad’s on a binger somewhere.”

“You guys were robbed of the magic,” Eddie says, exhaling a cloud of smoke before passing the joint to Jonathan.

“Alright then,” Steve says. “When did you stop believing?”

“I mean…” Eddie trails off, eyes focused on the uneven paint job on the roof of the living room. From this angle, it’s hard to see the blush creeping across his face, but Steve knows it's there judging by the way he’s fidgeting with a lock of his hair.

“Hold on,” Steve says, inhaling his first hit of the night before letting it out quicker than he should. “You still believe in Santa?”

Plucking the joint from his hand, Eddie shrugs.

“Eddie!”

He has to be fucking with him. Sure, Eddie earned the nickname The Freak for a reason back in high school, but that had more to do with his general attitude and appearance, right? There’s no way he would have proclaimed his belief in Santa Claus to a cafeteria full of judgmental peers, would he?

Leaning around Eddie, he glances at Jonathan who looks equally as perplexed.

Shit.

“What?” Eddie shouts, exhaling the smoke directly into Steve’s face. “We can’t know for sure he’s not real! Next, you’re going to tell me dragons and mermaids don’t exist.”

“Oh my god,” Steve mumbles. “Tell me you’re saying this because you’re high right now.”

Jonathan snorts from his side of the couch. “Steve, he has the highest tolerance I’ve ever seen. Well, next to Argyle.”

“Maybe this batch is laced with something stronger?”

“Nope,” Eddie says, popping the p. “Got it fresh from Rick yesterday. Just good old-fashioned Indiana Marijuana. If ‘m being straight with you Steve, ‘m a little hurt you don’t believe me.”

If he were a cartoon character, Steve’s pretty sure his eyes would be jumping out of his head right now. He’s only had one hit himself, but he already feels too high for this conversation. Or maybe he’s not high enough. Just in case, he snatches the joint from Jonathan’s hand and takes a better pull this time.

“Have you ever seen Santa?” He studies Eddie’s face after he asks the question. Desperately searching for the usual tells that give away that Eddie’s fucking with him. He can’t find any — not even the slightest quirk of his lip.

Christ.

“Seeing isn’t believing, Steve,” Eddie says, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah it is!” he argues back.

“Have you seen a million dollars?”

Steve blinks. “Well, no.”

“Then how do you know it even exists?” Eddie taunts, eyes glazed in mirth (and probably the drugs).

“That’s not the same thing! Like at all!” Steve says, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. “Jonathan help me out here!”

“Sorry, Steve. You’re on your own with this one. I’ve got enough Santa problems of my own,” he says, snatching the joint from Eddie’s lips.

“No you don’t, man,” Eddie says. “The big man always comes to aid those who truly believe. He still leaves me gifts.”

Steve’s not sure if he wants to laugh or cry, so he settles on an unattractive snort instead. One that has his own face flushing at the godawful sound.

“Eddie, come on,” he pleads. “Those are probably from Wayne.”

“Uh, no, Stevie. Wayne only gets me gifts I actually need. And he always wraps them in the Hawkins Post. Santa brings me what I want and it’s always on really pretty paper that the elves must design.”

At a total loss for words, he jumps at the feeling of Jonathan tapping his shoulder. When he turns Jonathan is looking at him with a look of unfortunate understanding. “I think he really believes,” he whispers, patting Steve on the shoulder. “He sounds just like El.”

Jesus Christ.

🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼

After Jonathan and Eddie share two more joints (Steve ever the lightweight taps out at the one), he’s tasked with calling Nancy to come pick Jon up. Once he’s gone, he focuses his attention on his sleeping and drooling boyfriend.

It’s not too hard since Eddie’s a heavy sleeper, but it’s still a workout. He manages to get him situated on the couch in a better position. Props his head up on his favorite pillow from his room (he doesn’t need to hear him bitch and moan about his neck all week) and throws the worn, knit blanket they keep on the couch over his body.

Once Eddie’s in a comfortable position, Steve wedges himself onto the couch beside his legs. As the sun starts to cast the living room in warm tones, Steve feels his own eyes getting heavier and heavier. Maybe a little nap wouldn’t hurt him — especially not after the whirlwind information he’s learned about his boyfriend tonight.

🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼

He wakes with a start to the sound of Wayne’s heavy boots and his keys hitting the ceramic dish Eddie made in middle school that Wayne cherishes. Peaking an eye open, he spots Eddie still snoozing on the couch.

Well, Steve thinks, now is the time if he’s going to confront the only other person in Eddie’s life who must know about his misguided beliefs.

He stretches, letting a yawn help him deepen it until he rights himself and gets onto his feet. Padding into the kitchen, he finds Wayne with his back turned. A pot of water slowly grows to a boil on the Stove as he gathers ingredients from the fridge.

“Hey, Wayne,” Steve says.

A man of few words, Wayne grunts signaling for Steve to continue talking without even glancing over his shoulder in his direction.

“I don’t really know how to ask this. But, uh, does Eddie still believe in Santa?”

Steve watches as Wayne shoves whatever he is holding back into the fridge, slamming it shut with so much force the cereal boxes on top topple over. Eddie’s prized Honeycombs scatter across the linoleum, but Wayne doesn’t pay them any mind as he crosses the small kitchen and slams his hands down on the counter.

One stern glare is all it takes for Steve’s fight-or-flight response to kick in. His keys are right there in the ceramic dish. If he just reaches his hands, he can grab them and flee before whatever Wayne is going to do to him happens.

“Now, you listen here, boy,” Wayne says in that low tone of his before Steve can make his escape. “You better not ruin the Christmas magic for my son, you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve says, voice shaking.

“Good. Now then,” Wayne says, turning his back to Steve. “Mind helpin’ me clean this mess up? Santa may be real, but that damn Cleaning Fairy he used’a believe in s’not.”

🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼 🎅🏼

The way I see it either Eddie and Wayne are playing an elaborate joke on Steve or Eddie does believe and when they eventually move in with each other, Steve keeps the charade up and plays Santa for Eddie.

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

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xelasrecords · 4 months ago

Text

The Oasis Is Beautiful From Up Close

Han Jumin x Reader x Kim Jihyun

NSFW

Jumin, you, and Jihyun are having an intimate photography session and fooling around because you and your lovers are no longer at death's door.

A vee polyamory in which you're romantic with Jumin and Jihyun while their relationship is platonic.

Words: 2.9k

Masterlist Read on AO3

"Hold it—yes, right there. You're lovely, my dearest," Jihyun said in a half crouch.

Your sharp gaze held the camera steady as shutter sounds filled his cluttered bedroom. He didn't set up any professional lighting and relied on the late afternoon sun to accentuate your profile. After doing a lot of shoots together, you both preferred this session to be more personal and intimate without the high-end magazine polish.

This started because you had been teasing him more than usual, after all. From not wearing a bra to flouncing about his home in a scanty dress the whole day, Jihyun's hands had been all over you until he collected himself enough to commence this photoshoot.

Jumin had also been the one to suggest you not to wear anything underneath.

They both liked what they saw and you liked being watched with unrestrained desire.

Jumin was now looming behind his best friend, clinging so close that Jihyun had to shift him bodily away. It didn't matter though. He would just glue himself back to Jihyun's side. He needed to learn everything there was to know about modelling photography or he would be cursed in not being able to capture his beloved's beauty.

He had repeated this more times than you could be bothered to count.

When Jihyun accidentally knocked his elbow into Jumin for the third time, you decided to put an end to Jihyun's suffering. Jumin's ribs would live to see another day, but you weren't sure if you would at the rate this photoshoot was going. "Jumin, do you want to take a picture of my corpse?"

Jumin gave you an incredulous look. "Why would I ever dream of doing that?"

"That would happen if you don't let Jihyun take good pictures of me. I'm rotting here. Rotting."

His brows furrowed and he lifted your arms and twisted your head side to side. "No, you're not. You're perfectly alive. And beautiful."

"Jumin, could you please move aside? You're covering her whole body." Jihyun's voice wafted from behind.

Jumin uttered an apology and swiftly assumed his original position beside Jihyun. He studied Jihyun's laid-back stance, the camera's distance from his body, and the firmness of his grip, and mimicked him with stiff precision. "So that is how you take a good shot," he murmured.

You rolled your eyes and laughed. It was impossible to be annoyed at him when his curiosity about mundane things kicked in. You struck another pose, looking over your shoulder with your back turned to them. You tried to compose yourself, but the sight of Jumin suspended in a robotic half-crouch was so absurd that you had to cover your smile with your arm.

"Jihyun isn't crouching anymore, you know."

Jumin's hands didn't fall away from his phantom camera, fingers crooked to form a perfect rectangle. "But he was when he took the previous shot."

In a minuscule gesture at Jihyun, you motioned your head towards Jumin.

A childlike grin bloomed across Jihyun's face. He directed his camera on Jumin's trembling body and clicked the shutter button.

Jumin blinked at him. "Isn't she the muse of the day?" he asked, still retaining the same posture.

"You're much more entertaining to shoot than me," you chirped.

Jihyun let out an airy chuckle. "I'm giving her a break. Perhaps you want to take the spotlight while she's resting?"

"She's supposed to be the model of the day."

You looked pointedly at his bent legs then glanced at Jihyun, who only shook his head in resignation. You pressed your mouth before laughter escaped you and posed again. Jumin's eyes flitted back and forth, trying to comprehend what had passed between you and Jihyun.

You shrugged and blew a kiss at him, mouthing I love you, and Jihyun captured your gesture. When he approached you to take a close-up shot of your face, Jumin inched closer as well. He was so desperate to take a peek at the viewfinder that he butted heads with Jihyun.

Jihyun yelped and rubbed at his temple. "Sometimes it feels as if I have adopted a koala who can't let go of me," he said, albeit with a smile.

"You feed him with too much patience."

"Would you two stop bad-mouthing my effort in taking focused shots of you? This is unacceptable. What have I done to withstand this slander? You should be more understanding of my love." Jumin huffed out his suit jacket and crossed his arms with a dramatic flair. "And I would make an adorable koala."

You placed Jumin's hand on your waist and he drew you in by habit. "Our next photoshoot can be of you in a koala costume." You tickled his chin.

"We have been very understanding of you, my friend." Jihyun clapped a hand on his shoulder. "No professional photographer or model would want their session to be obstructed."

"And yet here you are, still alive and breathing in this room." You winked. "Aren't we generous?"

Jumin scoffed. "Do you suppose I should be alive and breathing somewhere else?"

You planted a kiss on his lips. "We want you here."

Not a moment later, you felt his fingers weaving into your hair, tugging at it with pleasurable force. You pushed your body up against him when you heard zooming and clicking sounds from Jihyun. Jumin ran his thumb across your shoulder and slowly dragged the strap of your silk dress down, humming in affirmation. You gasped as he trailed kisses down your neck and sucked at the skin on your collarbone.

In the haze of it, you blindly grabbed at Jihyun's shirt. He complied without resistance and positioned himself behind you. You slumped against him, indulging in the warmth of their bodies enveloping you. You could feel them everywhere; Jihyun was tucking your hair aside to kiss a sensitive spot behind your ear, while Jumin's hand had crawled up your inner thigh and was sliding his fingers into you.

You reached up for Jihyun, and his lips were on yours in an instant. It was a soft nip in the beginning, searching for your permission, and you gladly let him in. He deepened the kiss and your hips bucked against Jumin's fingers, earning a chuckle from him.

With his other hand, Jumin took the camera from Jihyun, freeing him to use both hands to roam across your breasts. Then slowly, Jumin pulled out his fingers and brushed them against your swollen lips. You sucked on them without a word, keeping your gaze on him the whole time while you swirled your tongue around his fingers. You knew he liked seeing you like this, knew what he was imagining you doing instead.

You wanted to turn around to face Jihyun, but Jumin stopped you. "Don't move. I want to immortalise you in this state. The lust in your expression is terribly tempting." He smiled at you and stepped back. "Jihyun, wrap one arm around her and cradle her face with your free hand. Show her off to me."

"He is strangely good at directing," you murmured into Jihyun's ear.

"It's hardly strange when a huge part of his job is telling people what to do." Jihyun obeyed Jumin's directions and pulled you closer. His touch was exhilarating, and the thrill rose exponentially when you noticed Jumin's satisfaction.

"Fortunately for the two of you, you get off on being told what to do," said Jumin who had an acute sense of hearing when it concerned Jihyun's and your opinions.

You smirked. He did always know you well.

Jihyun kissed your temple. You leaned your head against his chest and his hand snaked up your neck and rested on your jaw. You parted your lips, sucking in a breath, and pushed out your chest until your rumpled dress almost exposed your body.

"You can take a photo now," said Jihyun.

Jumin bent forward at a lower angle than was probably necessary, and clicked the shutter button with a palpable jolt that reverberated throughout his limbs. You raised your eyebrows and Jihyun tilted his head in question.

Then, Jumin had the audacity to look shocked at the brief preview on the camera screen.

Disbelief passed across his features as he fell back onto the bed.

You suppressed your smile and sat beside him with Jihyun in tow. The said bed was really a mattress strewn across the hardwood floor with swathes of blankets thrown atop it. Jumin had not given up on coaxing Jihyun to buy a proper bedframe, but you had.

Whatever floated his boat into dreamland.

"Let me see," you said.

Jumin scrunched his nose and zoomed into the picture. "Your nose and lips are clear. Not so much of your eyes, or even your hair. But Jihyun is a blur."

"Fitting." You looked deep in thought. "You know how hard it is to comprehend his essence as a whole."

"My essence?" Jihyun's response came out bewildered.

Jumin folded the heap of blankets so Jihyun wasn't constantly shifting in place, but Jihyun just draped it back around Jumin. Knowing that his body ran colder than the rest of you, you were touched that Jihyun was thoughtful to this degree. He had always been. It was one of the many qualities you liked from him.

"Please don't theorise. This isn't an art piece up for discussion," said Jumin.

"I'm simply giving you a leeway to rationalise your mistake," you said, sitting sideways in Jihyun's lap. He was still looking at you quizzically, but he placed his hand on the top of your thigh and squeezed it.

It sent a buzz of current throughout your skin and you shivered.

"I will do better." Jumin sighed. "Someday I will master Jihyun's photography skills and finally deserve your compliments."

You ran your hand through his tousled black hair. "You take good enough pictures."

"I'm aware that I have not been able to capture all your facial features in one shot."

"My nose was quite pretty in the one you took yesterday."

"That was the only visible thing in the photo."

"You have humbled him." Jihyun chuckled. "He was never this receptive of his photography flaws. I had given up and chosen to keep the blurred Elizabeth the Third pictures to myself. It's the intention that matters, after all."

"Intention must translate into execution," Jumin insisted. "It's imperative that I practice as much as I can."

"Today's picture is already an improvement." You climbed out of Jihyun's lap and lay on the bed. "Come, I've missed you two." You patted the space on your sides.

Jihyun flung himself on the mattress with a soft thud, arms out wide, and your body bounced on impact. You laughed and wormed into his embrace. The golden rays from outside the window fell on just the right places: his lush turquoise hair, the delicate arch of his nose, and his pale, pale skin so thin that you could easily discern the blue veins running below.

You had to convince yourself that he was healthy. He was all right. All of you were finally happy.

His blood was no longer shed on skirmish grounds. He could finally exist without having to fight for his right to be. Jumin did not have to uphold Jihyun's reason to live anymore, because he had found many reasons to.

Or maybe there were only two. But that was enough.

He gleamed now, instead of being swallowed by the light. He was wholly, completely Jihyun.

Jumin knelt on the mattress and looked down at you with tenderness so sincere that your heart clenched. "How long I have waited for this moment," he said, his slender fingers lightly dancing along your cheek.

"It has been months, but I still can't believe our dream could be a reality." You kissed the inside of his wrist, letting your lips linger on the small of his skin where his pulse beat. "It had seemed like a foolish delusion then, but now I get to relax with you without anything weighing my mind. Sometimes I'm afraid I'm missing something crucial and hell will be unleashed upon us again before we're ready."

"You can believe it now. Both of you have fought so hard," said Jihyun. "We're safe, and no one is in danger. Especially not me," he added, and winced. "I know I have been the source of all your headaches."

"No use dwelling on something we have forgiven you for." Jumin seized Jihyun's wrist. "But I would prefer it if you don't attempt another martyrdom. No more in-fighting. No more battling against rogue ministers and cult leaders. Not if I can help it." Seeing Jihyun about to protest, he cut in. "You have used up your apologies for this month. Don't you dare try."

Jihyun obediently shut his mouth.

All of you had lost too much to go through another wave of apocalypse. RFA almost disbanded and you carried the guilt everywhere for not being able to keep them together. C&R nearly went down, crushed under the weight of false accusations, dragging Jumin with it. Jihyun would never redeem himself back in Rika's eyes, but she came out alive and was in a hospital far away. Lost affection was better than a life lost.

Every day, the three of you help each other to live. One day, then another, then another. Nightmares still came, but at least they didn't come true anymore.

You hoped they wouldn't.

The security that came with freedom was hard-won. You didn't intend to lose it again.

On that note, having security also meant you were free to throw bizarre questions out there.

"I have a riddle," you blurted.

Synchronised groans came from both of them.

"It seems we're about to be tortured," Jumin said.

"Perhaps she will have mercy on us this time," suggested Jihyun.

Putting on the most earnest expression you could muster, you turned to Jihyun. "Who would you choose if you could only save one of us?"

Jihyun's eyes grew wide and Jumin exclaimed, "Why would you do that to him?"

You shrugged. "Too simple? I'll add more details to the scene."

"You possess a hidden sadistic desire," said Jumin.

Jihyun laughed. "All right, let's hear it out."

"Jumin drives us into a lake and the car is rapidly sinking, but you only have the strength to save one of us. Who would you choose?"

Jumin sat up straight and pointed at her accusingly. "That is a mockery of my driving skill," he said. "Though I admit I'm also curious to hear Jihyun's answer."

Both of you faced Jihyun with glimmering, hopeful eyes.

"I'd rather go with you both," he finally said. "I don't want to live a life without you."

That was a sly tactic to divert the talk to a solemn reflection. You wouldn't have it. He had to give a satisfying response or you would grill him until night arrived.

"But by doing so, you would lose our single chance to live."

"Save her." Jumin—that bastard—took pity on him instead of taking your side. "That would be the right course to take if I was the cause of our fictional death. One must keep a clear head when danger is imminent. Be logical."

You glared at him and whispered to Jihyun on a decibel where it shouldn't be called a whisper, "He's calling you stupid. Just sacrifice him."

"But he's right," Jihyun said. "I tend to use my heart over my head when someone needs me."

"This is why you're easy to tease." You sighed. "So, who's your heart calling for?"

"We all know he loves you, as do I. We would work together to save you," Jumin said, and Jihyun nodded with much eagerness.

You sputtered and scrambled out of Jihyun's arm. Curse their unwavering connection from being intricately intertwined since they were young. Served you right for loving two best friends who had been more than willing to present themselves as the sacrificial lamb to save your life.

"I get no say about my life or death?"

"You already handed over your choice to Jihyun. Now we will do as we see fit." Jumin was suspiciously smug when he declared it.

You swatted his shoulder without exerting any real strength. "You always find a way to cheat the system."

"It's not cheating if you never explicitly stated the rules and presented them with numerous loopholes."

You threw your hand against your forehead in the style of a faint-hearted Victorian lady receiving the most grievous news and tossed yourself back on the bed. "I have lost interest in this game."

"Some ideas are most poisonous to their creators." Jihyun chuckled, and put your hand away.

Unlike with Jumin, you found it harder to shoot antagonistic glares at Jihyun. Unlike Jumin, it was not in his nature to prod at you and challenge you into debates for mental stimulation. Unlike Jumin, he relented without much fight so it would only make you feel worse for teasing him too much.

Bickering with Jumin was a recreational activity, but it would be akin to kicking a wounded puppy if you did it to Jihyun.

"I hate it when you two join forces. I can never win against you," you grumbled.

Laughing, Jihyun kissed you and laced his fingers with yours. You held it against your stomach, deep gratitude washing over your heart. Jumin tipped up your chin, brushing flyaway strands from your face and smiled down at you.

Their touches, their gazes, they all confessed the same thing—something that existed between the three of you like it was the fundamental truth of the universe. A baby fresh out of the womb didn't need to be taught to breathe and cry. You didn't need to ask what it was. You didn't even hesitate.

Finally, you thought. No more wondering if tomorrow would come. You were loved and were fortunate enough to live out this life with them.

There would always be more days.

Footnotes:

-The second half of this fic is inspired by the exchange between grieving Jihyun and MC from All That Is Lost that didn't make the cut:

"I doubt he could do it if he were told to choose to save only one of us."

"Dear Lord, Jihyun." She laughed with tears in her eyes. "Let's not put him through more suffering."

I took out the grief and repurposed it into something lighter. You're welcome.

-This is my first romcom of the year and my first romantic smut ever!! I thought depression had stolen my motivation to write happy things, but turns out, I can still claw my way back here. It had been a healing process to write this. For the first time since I started here 2 years ago, I didn't worry about whether it's good enough. I just put myself in their headspace and found my joy in writing again.

-Every time I write a bubbly romance I imagine snatching these characters away from the torment of their routes and plopping them into a utopia where nothing bad can touch them.

Header Corner:

Since this fic has both mature themes and playful conversations, I thought a mixed media style would be perfect to convey these elements. Then, I used velvet purple tones with a pop of yellow and comic speech bubbles to further strengthen the concept.

A quick process overlook!

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#was very determined in creating the header despite being sick so please appreciate xo #this is my fave header i've made #xela writes #jumin han x reader x jihyun kim #mystic messenger ot3 #jumin han x reader #jihyun kim x reader #jumin han smut #jihyun kim smut #jumin han #jihyun kim #jihyun kim fluff #jumin han fluff #mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger fanfic

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