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pucksandpower · 7 months ago

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Say My Name

Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader

Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before

Warnings: 18+ content

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”

The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.

You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.

“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.

Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.

You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”

No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.

Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”

He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.

You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”

But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.

“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”

“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”

“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”

Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.

The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.

Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.

Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”

Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”

Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.

“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.

I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.

Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.

Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.

Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.

Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?

Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.

No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.

Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.

“Oscar, what are you-”

But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.

Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.

With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”

Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.

The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.

“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”

He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”

Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”

Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”

He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”

The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.

The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.

After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.

He’s your everything.

***

Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.

“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.

When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.

You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”

“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”

“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”

Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.

On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”

A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.

When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.

Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.

It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.

Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.

He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.

When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”

“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.

But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.

“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.

“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.

His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.

So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.

At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.

All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.

Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.

“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”

His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.

“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.

You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.

His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.

“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.

The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.

It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.

Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.

“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.

More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.

At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.

The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”

He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.

Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...

Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.

You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.

When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.

You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.

When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.

“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”

So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.

At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.

When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.

As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.

For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.

Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.

You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.

Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.

Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.

Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”

He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.

“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”

He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”

Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?

Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.

“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.

So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.

“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”

His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.

“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”

You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.

And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.

Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?

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thehighladywrites · 8 months ago

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ACOTAR men x reader, meeting your parents

𐙚 summary: the acotar men meet ur parents for the first time, how will it go?

𐙚 warnings: crack, fluff

𐙚 amara’s note: thank u sm for the req anon!!💗 i need cassian so bad i’m not joking 🙁 | based on this req

Rhysand

okay so in my mind there are two ways this could go

either ur parents are scared shitless bc of him or they absolutely adore him

They’re real scared if your parents live in the Hewn City and have only seen Rhysand’s bad side, you know, when he was with Amarantha and just seemed like a real jerk overall

The part where they adore him would come into play if your parents lived in Velaris and witnessed Rhysand's true self, not the facade he presents to his court, but the genuine person behind the mask

I think he would act very nonchalant and act like its a casual thing meeting your parents but he is shitting himself behind the facades

He's just really eager for your parents to like him, so he ends up accidentally over-complimenting your mom, which might make your dad a bit irked.

“Mrs. L/N, your beauty is as radiant as the stars. And your cooking is absolutely divine,” he has a hand on his heart, his famous smirk playing on his lips

“Aw, thank you so very much Rhysand, how very kind of you. I’m glad you like it!” your mom beams at him sweetly

“Alright, Rhysand, let's not get carried away,” your dad mutters, staring daggers at rhys as he gets drags your moms chair closer to him

After a while they grow to love him and your father’s distaste for him lessens

Azriel

it’s kind like rhysand’s situation, your parents score is based on how much they know about him

okay, so if ur parents know he’s the scary night court torturer and spymaster who does dangerous things for his work, he might not be very well liked. not only that but they would be genuinely worried and very scared

but if they only know he works for the high lord, i believe the chance of liking him is big

I think azriel’s calm aura when he’s with you makes him very likeable and trustworthy

Your parents see how much he cares for you, the little things he does for you and they approve

they see the small things he does, like this vid right here

Azriel is actually so fucking nervous, he stalks your parents before meeting them. He knows what your dad likes and he knows what your mom likes. Azriel brings their interests up casually in conversations and see how their faces light up

of course you know about all of this but you let him think he’s slick

Eris

Just like rhys and az, it depends on how much they know ab him.

If this is pre berons death eris, they will probably not like him bc of the way he presents himself

I still think Eris is charming and will win over your parents

He’s an expert on charming people and he uses it when he meets ur parents

he is very respectful, tho not very talkative. He speaks when spoken to basically

He gets very nervous when he is asked questions about your relationship bc if there’s one thing he loves it’s privacy

Eris is super vague, i’m talking one word answer for everything

“So how did you meet?”

“at a meeting.”

“Okay! so whats the story?”

“we fell in love.”

Absolutely melts when ur parents decide to like him bc he has never had any parental figure like him that much except for his mom and he is very happy on the inside when ur parents love him

literally thinks of ur parents as his after a while

Lucien

He is extremely well liked, like right off the bat, they love him

We all now he is prythian’s most charming male

is the type to say “wow i see where my girl gets her beauty from” to your mom and “you raised her well, she is very smart” to your dad

I swear he will flirt with anyone. your brother, your sister, your mom, your dad

he brings gift baskets whenever u visit them and it’s always personalized gifts too

your younger siblings always greet him before you bc they think he’s wayyyyy cooler than u

he just basks in the attention bc slowly ur family basically adopts him and he becomes part of the family very quickly they all love him

Goes on walks with your parents, bakes with them, talks to them, literally becomes their fav in a heartbeat making u a lil jelly

This is SO him and ur mom LINK

Cassian

awww😭 bless his heart he is so awkward

he is so adamant about being liked, he goes all out

i’m talking gets a suit, shaves and gels his hair back even though you say it’s really not that deep

sweating bullets, wings drooping a tiiiiiny amount. not noticeable to anyone but himself

anyway

cassian knocks on the door w flowers for ur mom and his hands are literally sweating

absolutely doesn’t let you touch him in a romantic way. he literally swats of your hand on his bicep, “bae, we can’t do that right here, are you crazy??” he says in ur mind, looking around to see of anyone saw that super scandalous touch

at the dinner table he almost knocks over a glass and drops a fork on the floor

his tie is too tight and he carefully tugs on it for air until you decide it’s too much and take him to your childhood bedroom

“Cas, are you okay? They love you so much, there is really no need to be this nervous.”

“Are you sure they like me? Be honest.”

“Baby, I promise you, if they didn’t, you would know. Now get rid of this tie, pop a button and relax, let me get you a drink.”

After you kiss him and get him a drink, he calms down and goes back to his normal non nervous, lovely self

🏷️: @amara-moonlight @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @artists-ally @thelov3lybookworm @clairebear08 @riddlesb1tch @cupidojenphrodite @readychilledwine @berryzxx @fell-in-luvs

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freak-accident419 · 11 months ago

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Good Tidings

Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Josh barely have any time to yourselves due time traveling nonstop, trying to save the fate of humanity. However, being at the Futturman’s Christmas dinner party granted you two a fair amount of time.

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: 18+ Smut, MDNI, gender neutral reader (no genitals specified, it’s just vague penetration), cockwarming, lots of fluff, takes place during Future Man S1E6 “A Blowjob Before Dying”, too much shitty sex jokes n puns (im sorry) (not), giddy+silly+sweet love making, you think you are sooo fucking funny, more goofy than serious/lustful, you two are very much in love, more plot (high ass dialogue) than porn tbh

(A/n: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!! Hope you enjoy this muahahaha and thank you all for your recent support! First smut written on this account, so be gentle with me please !)

You, Tiger, Wolf, and Josh were at the Futturman household, schedule disrupted due to the reluctance of Josh’s parents. They insisted that you all join them for their small Christmas dinner party. You were all sat down at the dining table, as well as the neighbors, Josh’s Uncle Barry, and Diane’s friend, Wanda (who was especially invited to perhaps keep Barry at bay).

While Tiger was mostly impatient and displeased with every mindless convo and laughter, talk revolved around several topics like DNA kits or Wolf’s strangely fascinating culinary.

You sat beside your boyfriend, Josh, slightly nervous about the time you were wasting. Ever since you’ve been dragged into the whole ‘Biotic Wars is real’ and ‘kill or be killed’ shit, you and Josh have been dealing with the worst, unimaginable shit ever. With the two of your adrenaline wearing off, you gradually processed everything that’s happened the past few days since you were never given a break. Hence the hand holding under the table as you two would seek comfort from one another.

But you attempted to distract yourself from the deaths you’ve witnessed and the near-death experiences you’ve had to your best ability by indulging in every conversation.

“Gabe, honey, tell them about—about the recent fishing trip we went on,” Josh’s mother, Diane encouraged to her husband with her sweet, achingly kind voice. You had so much respect for Josh’s parents, so it was pretty easy for you all to hit it off well. They loved you. In fact, they were heavily relieved that Josh had finally found someone, let alone someone as amazing as you.

Gabe let out a hearty chuckle as he prepared himself to tell the table his story.

“So, a couple of days ago, Diane and I went on a small fishing trip. And I remembered an old trick back in the day that attracted a lot of trout,” he explained as you picked up your glass of wine, sipping some generously. Diane smiled at him with a nod as he continued. “One of the very efficient ways to go about fish bait is blowing worms.”

You choke on your wine, holding in a laugh, coughing a bit instead as Josh looks at you with a knowing smile. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked, trying not to grin too widely. Did you hear that right?

“Blowing worms,” Gabe repeated, getting a confined chuckle out of you and Josh. “You inflate the worms with air, which makes them float instead of having your bait be at the very bottom. It’s perfect, especially near the winter time. Worked like a charm.”

“Ohh,” you gasp in wonder. You chuckle to yourself before you spontaneously say, “Yeah, actually, I think I did do that a few times. Blew a-a worm.”

You looked at Josh, thinking you were being hilarious, but he looked at you with surprised eyes and parted lips of shock that slowly transitioned into a smile.

“Really?” Josh’s father expressed with intrigue. “I didn’t even know you fish. You have someone teach you that method, or—”

“Oh, no, Mr. Futturman, I,” you speak as you occasionally switch from looking at him to Josh. “I think it’s a very popular method. It’s a pretty natural instinct, you know? Blowing worms, that is.”

“Wow, really? Always thought it was an old-fashioned sort of thing.”

“Nah, far from old-fashioned, it’s almost contemptuous!”

You did pretty well at suppressing your laughter, because you sounded really earnest. Josh covered his mouth, amused by your subtle humor.

“Joshy, we didn’t know that Y/n likes fishing. We could’ve taken them on our trip. In fact, we could’ve all went,” Diane suggests as she looked at Josh and then you.

It was like everyone at the table was blind to your immature, yet humorous implication. Except, of course, your boyfriend.

“Oh, no worries, Mrs. Futturman,” you insisted kindly. “I don’t usually fish. Plus, blowing worms can be very exhausting.”

“Y/n—” Josh reacted, but interrupted himself with a suppressed laugh.

“You think so?” Mr. Futturman raised an eyebrow. “I just stick a syringe in them, inflate it, and bam, it’s all thick and ready to g—”

You and Josh burst out laughing, holding onto the table and each other. You swore there were slight tears coming out of your eyes as both of your faces were red. You felt overjoyed to feel happiness and delight for the first time ever since your involvement in the mission. And you felt even more glad that it was your boyfriend that you fooled around with.

“Sorry, sorry,” Josh says after his laughter died down as the entire table was confused. “I just—We just thought about a, um, moment when—Um… Actually, Y/n and I did go fishing once. Isn’t that—isn’t that right?”

You nod and go along with it, detaining your giggles.

“Well, anyways, we actually did that method, and yeah, you’re right, it works like a charm!” He exclaimed with joy as his parents smile at him with approval and pride.

“Bet the worm was pretty small, huh?” Tiger jumped in wittily, however, in a coldly nonchalant manner.

“And pathetic!” Wolf blurted.

“Hey, even if that might’ve been true—might’ve—it-it probably had a personality, you know?” He reckoned with a shrug, making you laugh again.

***

“You are—are fucking terrible, you know that?” Josh quickly muttered under his breath as you two continued to kiss each other deeply on his bed. “Those were my parents.”

“C’mon, baby, admit it, it was comedy gold,” you giggle, pressing your lips to his once more by tugging his black, skinny necktie towards you as you remained sitting on his lap.

The dinner party was still going on downstairs. After a long time of looking at each other longingly at the table, you two decided to excuse yourselves in order to “prepare gifts for Josh’s coworkers that he forgotten to wrap” in his room.

When you guys rushed in his room, you couldn’t take your hands off each other, immediately making out once the door was locked. However, you then had to close all his blinds before you met him back on the bed. This wasn’t new to you, none of it was. The soft, warm orange that his room’s light emitted strangely comforted you, as well as being back on his soft, spacey mattress.

Was it a good idea to leave Tiger and Wolf alone with Josh’s family and company? Probably not. But you’ve taught them enough shit. They tolerate Josh’s parents, so why not a few other guests as well? And you’ll only be gone for no longer than five minutes, you’d hoped.

You bring your hands to his pants, attempting to unbuckle his belt. “Shit—What the—What the fuck is this?” You grumble, Josh laughing at you as you struggle.

“I think it’s—” He giggled, bringing his own hands to his belt, trying to remove it, pulling. “I think it’s stuck.”

“What the shit?” You wheeze. “Fuckin’—Fuckin’ cock block!” You continue to mess with the belt, trying your best to unbuckle it.

“Wait, you—you’re almost there, you—”

“Oh my god! Holy shit! I got it!” You let out a surprised gasp, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants right after.

“Oh shit! Flawless victory!” He exclaimed, making you stop in your tracks, looking back up at him.

“You did not just quote Mortal Kombat because I successfully unbuckled your belt,” you raise an eyebrow, nevertheless amused by his dorkiness.

“Maybe,” he answered smugly.

“You’re lucky I am in love with you, otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have let that slide,” you chuckle.

“Oh, come on. You’d love my video game references either way,” he insisted.

“I’m serious, Josh, the amount of things I’ve let slide because I love you is kind of crazy. Let me just say, I am so glad I met you after the ‘apple juice’ incident that Ray told me about.”

“Ray told you about that?”

“He told me a lot of things. Mostly the embarrassing things. I think he wanted to freak me out, you know? Always thought I was too good for you.”

You pulled his pants off, throwing it carelessly down on the floor. Your lips attached once more as he snickered as you then cupped his face with your warm hands. You look at your lover, his big, brown, desperate eyes looking at you with utmost adoration. “Well, jokes on him, he was entirely wrong. You are so good to me, you know that?”

He smiles at you softly, and you could sense how flustered he felt to hear that (the blushing patently gave it away). “You’re the one who’s been on my side since forever. Even when you got involved in all this shit that you didn’t even have to be in. You-You could’ve called me crazy, and-and broken up with me, but you believed me and stayed by my side, even knowing that things were gonna get dirty. And they did, get really dirty.” Rest in peace Janis and Carl? Or, rather, die, you evil perf-cocks? Eh, doesn’t fucking matter. “You’re so good for me, sometimes I can’t believe you’re even real.”

You giggle sweetly as you give him another kiss, a quiet smack caused by your lips deftly leaving his own to speak. “Well, I’m here and I’m real, and I’ll always be there for you, baby,” you reassure. You were perfect for him. Indefinitely.

He smiled blissfully. “I love you so much.”

You two made out passionately until you were laying under him, the lower halves of your bodies bare as you discarded the necessary clothes.

“Do you think your parents and everyone else knew about the worm thing or are they just that… I don’t know… clueless?” You asked endearingly under your breath as your fingers entangle in his soft, brown hair.

“Hmm. Possibly,” he reckons, raising his eyebrows as he thought about it. “That was still kind of evil of you, though.”

“Me, personally, I thought it was hilarious.”

“Blowing worms?”

“C’mon, your father set himself up for that.”

“Tiger called it small,” he muttered lamentably. “And Wolf said it was pathetic.”

“Jeez, whatever happened to personality?” You chuckle softly.

He sighed. “They still sort of called me out.”

“Shut up. It’s average, to say the least. Doesn’t matter either way, you’re enough.”

“But—”

“Josh, if it bothers you this much, then just prove them wrong right now,” you reply with a laugh.

“As in—?”

“Josh, c’mon, we don’t have time anyways. They’re expecting us any minute because of that shitty made-up story excuse. I love foreplay, dude, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t acknowledge the time at all. Quickies are definitely not our cup of tea. Y—” Your breath hitched as you felt his tip prod at your sensitive entrance. He gave you a soft, comforting kiss on the nose. You looked into each other’s eyes deeply, then your lips crashed into each other’s as the two of you stifled your moans once Josh finally thrusted in.

“Y-You know you’re p-perfect just the—mm—way you are, right?” You ask gently, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He smiled at this, kissing your lips once more, beginning to move. Your heart fluttered each second you felt him thrust in and out, slightly and satisfyingly stretching you. His hips moved quite skillfully, but also slightly clumsily, which was nonetheless admirable.

Your usual soft moans and gasps would be replaced by stifled grunts and sighs, due to the company downstairs. As much as you wanted the whole world to know that Josh Futturman was yours and only yours, you also had dignity—plus, it was his goddamn parents downstairs.

You giggled as you felt his nose against yours each rough kiss. “Y-You know, however, I think the only complaint I have about you is the fact that you hate Super Mario Bros.” You point out with a chuckle.

“Y/n, in my—agh—defense, it literally makes no sense. Like, why would there be pipes that are—”

“Okay, why rely solely on logic and rationality, hm, Futturman? I thought video games were all about escape. It’s all just harmless fun.”

“Yeah, well, I’m much more into games with thought-out plots and challenges,” he remarked, making you roll your eyes playfully. “Anyways, it pretty much just got ruined for me even more when Tracy at the video game store talked about Luigi having a very hairy, Italian cock.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Baby, I love you. However, your goddamn dick is currently inside of me. Please do not talk about Luigi’s theoretic hairy penis.”

“Noted,” he assents, going back to kissing you passionately, while moving slowly inside of you, yet deeper with each thrust. You let out a quiet, pleasured gasp as you felt him fill you perfectly, his hands lovingly gripping your waist to keep you still.

Your eyes closed as you indulged in the feeling of his gentle thrusts, him peppering kisses on your neck, softly chuckling under his breath. He guessed he was still in disbelief that he had someone as amazing as you.

“I… I still can’t believe someone as perfect as you would ever go out with a loser like me,” he scoffed, pressing more kisses against your neck and jaw.

“Hey, seriously?” You frown, holding his face in your hands once more, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are… a lot of things, Josh. But a loser isn’t one of them. Okay? You are so kind and funny and caring and thoughtful a-and—m-mm—amazing i-in general.”

“I—Fuck. I—I don’t deserve you,” he panted.

“J-Jesus Christ, sh-shut your fuckin’ rathole. Yes you do, baby. You deserve me as much as I deserve you.”

It was becoming harder to focus on your words as you continued to feel an increased sensation and pleasure as his thrusts quicken and falter. You let out a small gasp as you tense things up by wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him in even deeper. You two had been speaking and giggling to each other constantly that you didn’t even notice the lewd, wet, slapping against the skin that came from each heavy thrust. Josh grabbed one of your hands, interlocking your fingers tightly on the mattress beside your head.

“J-Josh, I—” You begin breathlessly.

“I know, me too,” he grunts as soft, inaudible whimpers and whines leave his lips while the movement of his hips stuttered. His rhythm was becoming unsteady, but it was also increasing in speed. “I—Y/n, f-fuck, I’m c—”

“Sh-shit, baby, I—” You pant as you felt closer and closer over the edge, every mere feeling increasing your stimulation. You bring your hand to cover your mouth and suppress any loud moans as you finally released, the knot in your stomach undoing itself as you sigh afterwards once your hand left your mouth. Josh came exactly right after you as his hips jolted for the final time, spilling his warm, white seed inside of you, burying his face in your neck to muffle a high-pitched grunt and acute whines.

You two were breathing heavily, kissing each other’s lips softly and lovingly after you both came down from your high. You two never moved from your position, still fragile and sore. Josh caressed the side of your waist under your shirt, his head resting in your neck as you moved your hand to play with his hair, holding him in your arms.

“This is probably the only time we’ll have together alone before we have to continue with the damn mission,” you figured, tangling his strands of hair in between your fingers.

“It’s bullshit,” he mumbles, his thumb continuing to rub your waist.

“Enjoy the moment while we can?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed dejectedly.

A beat.

“Hm,” you hum thoughtfully.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing, I just… I like it whenever you’re inside of me,” you comment softly. This was probably the most affectionately vulnerable and honest you have been with him. Your tone lacked any intention for humor or lust; you were genuine.

He lifted his head up from your neck. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know. It just feels right. You know, as if you were, like, made for me exactly,” you whispered lovesickly, looking down at his sweet, plump lips to his profound, gorgeous brown eyes. “I wanna stay like this a little longer. You’re so perfect for me. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replied with a smile, kissing your lips soothingly.

Then suddenly,

“Futturman! L/n! Get out of there, we gotta go now! Operation Cameronium!” Tiger called from the other side of the door. “Goddamnit. The fucking—tiny man—baby thing—is, just, really starting to piss me off. Let’s go!”

You and Josh looked at each other for a while in silence before bursting out into laughter.

“We-we better go before she considers murdering little baby Wallace,” you suggest with a soft smile.

“Yeah… Wait. Do you really think—”

“No…” You answer before he could finish his sentence. “I know she seems all stoic on the outside, but I feel like the past few days, she changed a bit. Empathy-wise. Slightly, at the very least.” Josh nods.

“I’m really gonna miss this,” he sighs.

“Me too. But don’t worry, once we fix everything, we have all the time in the world together,” you assert.

“Okay,” he smiles sweetly, kissing your lips before slowly pulling out of you, leaving you to feel empty and slightly bummed.

The two of you, with your clothes back on and hair quickly fixed, you waltzed downstairs with no problem. Your hands had been interlocked, faces a bit flushed as you smile to yourselves.

“You two sure look happy,” Diane expresses joyfully. “You really got into the Christmas spirit, wrapping all those gifts upstairs, huh?”

You giggled under your breath. “Oh, yeah, definitely, Mrs. Futturman. Uh, very much so. I really love Christmas, you know? The gift wrapping Joshy and I did upstairs and, you know, all the Christmas traditions. ‘Specially, ‘specially the yule log.” You look at Josh with a knowing grin as he just listened in, suspecting nothing at all. “Really makes you feel warm inside, am I right?”

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smartkookiee · 8 days ago

Text

Wounds We Never Show // Ch.5 — jjk.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・ ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/they, afab) ❥genre/rating: 18 +explicit content, enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers, enemies with benefits ❥chapter warnings/tags: Drinking, Swearing, Fighting, morning after regrets, flashbacks(2x) , mentions of cheating, previous relationship trauma, college flashback, stupid ex boyfriend, bothering yoongi (cause he deserves to be bothered), vic laughs in your face, yeah more confusing feelings ❥word-count: 8.8k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 send an ask or comment on post to be added to the taglist! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Four Years Ago - Just before Melanie and Namjoon met.

“Holy shit.” You set down your drink on the table. Your eyes landing on Jungkook, who just happened to enter the same bar you and your friends decided to have a night out at.

Who you haven’t seen in a year.

It was just a casual outing and you had a rough shift so a few drinks were going to hit the spot for you right now. You and Melanie invited Ash to join you to hang out. She was a new friend to the both of you and you really wanted to get to know her better. No better way than to have a few drinks and sit and talk.

Ash, glanced in the direction you were looking. “What is it?”

You shake your head and take another sip of your drink, tracking Jungkook across the bar as he seemed to greet some guys he seemed to know.

“Oh it’s nothing. Just some guy I knew in college.” You try to brush it off, tracing the rim of your drink. The past frustrations are bubbling up.

“Which one?” Melanie leaned close, as you pointing him out subtly trying not to pull focus to your little group. “Oh wow. He’s cute, did you guys date or something?”

You stifle a laugh, “No, I fucking hate that guy.”

“What happened?” Ash tilted her head glancing over to Jungkook. Her curiosity peaked.

“Oh it’s a long story.” You wave your hand trying to breeze past to another subject.

“Oh come on spill.” Melanie bumped her shoulder into yours, encouraging you to open up. You and Melanie had only known each other a few months and although you had gotten close pretty quickly. This Jungkook thing was old news and not something you even had to worry about anymore.

“He’s just an ass. We got into a huge fight and I said some things, he said some things and we can’t stand each other. This is the first time I’ve seen him since.” You try to keep the details as vague as possible.

“Damn that sucks.” Melanie nodded, “It wasn’t’ like a secret love affair or something scandalous like that?” She teased and your eyes shot open in shock.

“Yeah if I ever sleep with that guy, someone needs to get me a brain scan because something is seriously wrong with me.” You laughed giving a nonchalant wave of your hand, as if brushing off the question.

Ash pursed her lips, “I mean… He’s cute so maybe you would be totally sane.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Present Day

“Awe crap.” Jungkook ran a hand over his face as he sat up in his bed. The whole night comes back in a quick flash.

It was real though… the two of you had slept together… again.

You sat in a frustrated but dumbfounded daze next to him. Silent, staring at the ground. Recounting every single step from the night before. How Jungkook found you buried in the sea of people. Helped you get to the bathroom, one second you were fighting and then the next…

You both stayed silent like this for just a moment before you took the pillow behind you swinging it around to hit Jungkook. “You idiot.”

Jungkook blocked himself from getting hit in just enough time. “What?”

You swung the pillow again, hitting his arms with a thud. “Stupid dumb idiot.” You really weren’t sure if you were saying this to him or to yourself now. Felt good to take the frustration out on him with the pillow.

“You think I planned this!” Jungkook spat back with you in annoyance, “I’m clearly just as shocked as you are.” You swung the pillow one more time to hit him but this time Jungkook grabs it. “Stop!”

You get up from the bed with an exaggerated groan, mumbling some things under your breath. You walked and grabbed your pants pulling them back up your legs with some frustration and force. “Shut up. Make me. What the hell was that?”

As you quickly dressed, your phone slipped out of your pocket and clattered to the floor. You snatched it up, wincing as the screen lit up: almost 9 AM. You didn’t have any pressing plans today, but staying here was the last thing you wanted.

Jungkook got up from his bed. Jungkook, still standing, watched you with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, and what about you? Kiss me, Jungkook.” He pitched his voice in a high, mocking imitation of you.

You shot him an incredulous look, pointing at him angrily. “I do not sound like that.” You storm past him, shoving him, grabbing your bra. “What about you? Let’s get out of here and I prefer a bed.” You pitched your voice as well to mock him back.

“Well I do.” He nods his head to the side but then shakes his head, “Not the point. You wanted it just as bad as I did.”

You scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping. “Fine, whatever. Maybe I did. But I swear you placed some demonic spell on me.”

“I should be the one checking myself for hex’s if anything!” Jungkook says, checking out his arms and chest dramatically.

You stormed out of the room, your eyes now adjusting to the daylight as you glanced at his apartment. It looked completely different now. His place was so nice and clean. Well put together and he actually had things well decorated. How annoying. Jungkook threw on a pair of sweatpants and followed you down the hallway, his tone turning serious.

You bent down to put on your shoes, frustration bubbling up as you fumbled with the laces. “I don’t do hookups. I’m too busy. What a load of crap!”

Jungkook leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed. “Hey, that’s true! Between the trial I’ve got coming up and all the other crap in my life, I’m genuinely surprised.”

You narrowed your eyes, not slowing down as you tried to shove your other shoe onto your foot. “Yeah, like I’m supposed to believe that.”

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Says the one who swore after last time this would never happen again.” He looked at you with a smirk, his gaze unwavering. “I remember that pretty clearly. You always keep your word, so what happened?”

You froze mid-motion, turning to face him with a frustrated, exasperated sigh. “I had a lot to drink, my judgement was skewed. Okay?”

Jungkook’s smirk deepened, and he stepped closer, his voice teasing but with an edge of something more. “So did I. Still doesn’t explain why we’re here, does it?”

You paused, a bitter laugh escaping you as you patted your pockets, checking for your keys. “I don’t even know whether to laugh or cry. Laugh at how big of an idiot I am, or cry about ending up in bed with you again.”

You yanked the front door open, spinning on your heel just before it slammed shut, giving him a sarcastic middle finger over your shoulder as you walked away.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, calling after you. “Fuck off!”

The door slammed shut behind you, and you darted down the hallway, the elevator feeling like the only escape. You needed to get out of there, fast. You needed to breathe. To feel something that wasn’t this—whatever this was.

The moment you stepped into the elevator, your mind flooded with flashes from the night before. The elevator doors shut, but in your mind, it felt like you were still there with him, every second replaying itself in vivid detail. You remembered the way he kissed you, the way he touched you, the way your body betrayed you. How you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You were fighting and then you were in it.

What the hell was that? You didn’t have an answer, only questions swirling in your head.

And why… did it feel so good?

You couldn’t shake the image of his face, between your legs, from your mind for the rest of the day. It lingered with you, haunting every moment. You forced yourself into a cold shower just so you could force yourself to not think about anything other than keeping yourself warm. You tried to stay busy, distracting yourself from the truth that kept creeping back. That whatever skills Jungkook had with his tongue had left its mark on you, and you wouldn’t easily forget it.

You weren’t the only one haunted.

As good as Jungkook was at pushing things from his mind, this was not something he could easily do this time. He couldn’t get the moments in the bathroom out of his mind, how just for one moment you both just surrendered and you actually laughed at him. Felt like you could be friends almost. You may have looked like friends to anyone else… very complicated friends.

It’s not like there wasn’t a time when you two couldn’t have been friends.

In fact there was a time when you were friends, before it all went south.

Jungkook had been thinking about that time more often lately, about how you two bridged the gap before. Which was really funny to think about now, considering this week. That there ever was a time where you two really got along, and got along well.

Funny enough it was a pretty similar instance to every time you encountered each other this last week.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Five years ago

You decided a break was long overdue. Between the mountain of homework and David, your ex, relentless texting you, your mind felt like it was on the verge of imploding. A quick walk to the convenience store on the edge of campus seemed like the perfect way to clear your head, just enough to get back to work without screaming into your pillow.

David has been spending weeks trying to get ahold of you. Trying to explain himself again and make you look like an idiot again because he’s convinced you twice to get back together with him, why not one more time?

The store’s door jingled as you pushed it open, a wave of cool air brushing past you. The cashier barely glanced up from his phone as you headed straight for the energy drinks. Your eyes scanned the rows until you grabbed two cans—one for tonight and one for the impending hell of tomorrow.

You turned, heading to the snacks, but as soon as you rounded the corner of the aisle, you collided with someone.

“Shit—” you muttered, barely managing to keep hold of your drinks.

“Maybe look where you’re going,” came the familiar, clipped voice. Of course coming from Jungkook.

You blinked at him, your stomach twisting with instant irritation. “Oh.”

Jungkook just brushed past you. You had spent several weeks of your project meeting together to work but you had been icing him out. He had tried to smooth things over, even had a friend come and try to decipher what issue you had with him was. You really had nothing to say to your ex’s friends after what happened. Seems Jungkook has finally gotten the hint you didn’t want to be friends and just wanted to get this project over with.

You rolled your eyes, clutching the cans tighter as you moved to the shelf beside him, pretending he wasn’t there. His presence, of course, was hard to ignore, especially when he turned his head to glance at your selection.

Jungkook had become pretty fed up with your cold shoulder. He had tried being nice but your weeks of angry muttering and silence really got under his skin. When he had no idea what he had even done wrong, and with how his week had been going he didn’t really have any patience left for you. He grabbed what he liked but the both of you had ended up in the same aisle again.

You both took a small glance at what the other had collected.

“Really? Energy drinks and chips? Healthy.” He remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Your face twisted in some confusion at his comment,“Really? Beer and a box of instant noodles? Classy,” you shot back without missing a beat, nodding at his haul.

“Didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on my diet.” He said, deadpan, before turning his attention to the shelf again.

“I just have eyes.” You grabbed a pack of granola bars and turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

Jungkook had noticed your recent choice of beverage from your last few meet ups for the project. Always the same and always two. “You know, those won’t magically help you stay awake. Might want to try water—or sleep.”

“Wow. Riveting advice, Jungkook,” you said over your shoulder. “Maybe next time, write a self-help book. Call it How to Be Annoying in Five Easy Steps.”

His lip curled into a half-smirk. “And you’d call yours How to Be Petty Without Even Trying.”

“Catchy,” you shot back. “I’ll let you write the foreword.”

“Pass. I’d rather not waste my time.”

“Then stop talking to me,” you snapped, giving him a pointed glare before brushing past him.

Jungkook leaves you alone, doesn’t even entertain you anymore. That was fine though, you needed to get back to your homework. You checkout with your stuff and get out of there pretty quickly. Pushing the door open, you start home but are immediately greeted with satan in the flesh.

“Oh god damn it, I cannot catch a break.” A puff of air leaves your lungs, exhaustion setting in. “How did you even know where I was David?”

“Baby I know everything about you. You always come here on your study days. Which is always Thursdays. Around this time.” He says it so matter of fact, because he does know you too well. It made your skin crawl.

“I’m not your baby.” You try to walk past him but he steps in front of you. “Stop texting, stop calling, and don’t ever show up somewhere I frequent again. It’s creepy.”

“Please just hear me out.” He starts but you put a hand up to him and push him away.

“No David, because you will make the same promises that you have made me over and over again. Once again making me look stupid. You give me the same stupid speech every time that I ‘am the one’, and it was a ‘mistake’, and that it was ‘just a one time thing’, and that ‘I’m so special to you’, blah blah blah.” You rub the side of your head with your free hand that doesn’t have your bag.

“I was wrong, every single time I was wrong. I’m here because I know you, I know that in that bag you have two energy drinks because you are going to drink one tonight and you are going to keep one for another day!” He keeps blocking your way, you keep trying to step around him but he’s not going to let you go until he gets his whole speech out.

“So what? You know one thing about me? Anyone who spends any amount of time around me knows that!”

“That’s not all. I know you. I know how you look when you are frustrated about something and you scrunch up your nose.” He took a step forward but you maintain the same distance between the both of you. “I know that you say you are a fan of action movies but you much prefer something funny or thought provoking.”

“Please stop.”

“I’m not here to give you the same speech again. I want you. We will graduate and I want the life we talked about forever ago. I’m not making the same promises like before. I will do anything to prove to you I am the most serious I have ever been.” David begged, he was making that same face he made very single time. One that made you believe it but you weren’t falling for it anymore, you were just pissed off now.

Right at that moment you heard the store door close behind you. Great, just great. Now Jungkook gets to experience this embarrassing moment for you. Since he’s one of David’s closest friends, probably help him. Say something like ‘David is so awesome and amazing’. You turn to look at Jungkook, who seemed to be confused about what was transpiring in front of him. David has stopped talking at this point and is also looking over atJungkook.

Jungkook observing the both of you, he could tell something is off.

“Hey man.” David calls over to him, voice suddenly diffused and cheerful, and he waves a little. “Haven’t seen you around, how’s it going?”

“Uhh,” Jungkook looked at his plan of escape and seemed to abandon it but didn’t come closer to the two of you. “Good man, Just busy.”

You were trapped. You wouldn’t be able to get out of this, but still the look you gave to Jungkook suggested that you needed help getting out of this situation. You could only hope he sees it, and sees that even if you have been treating him like crap he may be the only person to get David to back off.

“You should come hang out, everyone misses you. ” David spoke up again, trying to fill the weighing silence between the three of you.

“I’m okay, actually.” Jungkook says, his voice is monotone and unwavering. Almost mad? He took a couple steps closer to the two of you. Jungkook had caught on to your look for help. “Everything okay here?”

He could tell you were extremely uncomfortable, and he knew if David had an idea he wasn’t going to let it go. For whatever reason, that was you right now.

“Yeah, we are just talking really quick.” David spoke in place of you, before you could get a word out.

David placed a hand on your shoulder and you immediately recoiled away. Jungkook right at that moment got an idea. He had no idea if it would work or if you even really wanted his help. He decided it was worth a shot though.

“You ready to go?” He spoke directly to you.

It surprised you and you stared at him for a moment with a confused look, one David was unable to see from standing behind you.

“Uhh…” Your eyebrows screw together.

“You guys know each other?” David stepped into the space that was between you and Jungkook.

“Not really.” You say, which was the truth.

“We are working on something together.” Jungkook fills in the blank, almost too quickly after you. He was looking directly at David, and was standing taller now.

“Well, can we just have a minute?” David asks. His demeanor changed in response to the change in Jungkook’s tone and stance. Defensive.

Jealous?

“No we need to go.” Jungkook comes over to you and takes the bag out of your hand, adding it to the arm he already had his on. You almost on instinct protest him but hold yourself back. Whatever Jungkook was doing was working and you just might be able to get out of here. Hurricane David would pass.

“Y/N I just need a minute.” David looked a little flustered by the intrusion.

“No. We are done.” You speak abruptly and move closer to Jungkook’s direction.

“Seriously?” David looks at you, he was definitely frustrated, and that filled you with sense of relief.

“Yeah. Seriously.” You say.

“Head home David.” Jungkook steps backwards in the direction towards campus. “I think it’s time we left as well.”

“Fine, go then.” David snorts, he takes a quick step over to Jungkook, leaning into his ear and then says something else inaudible to you. Which, after a moment, results in Jungkook pushing David harshly away from him.

“Hey let’s go.” You grab onto Jungkook’s arm and you head towards the direction of the dorms. Quickly. David doesn’t get another word in, you and Jungkook kept the same pace and moved in quick silence.

“What a fucking douche.” Jungkook finally says once you guys are far enough away.

“I thought you were friends?” You ask, now confused. Wasn’t he like Jungkook’s best friend? That’s how David always described him.

“Not anymore.” He looks at you, “I hope he didn’t bug you too much.”

“Oh, he will. He’s probably going to text me any minute.” You dread it in fact. He was annoyingly persistent in the times you guys were… off.

“How do you know him?”

You let out a sigh. That was a loaded question indeed.

“It’s a very long and taxing story.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Maybe after a drink or five.” You shake your head, joking in your tone.

Jungkook then ruffles around into his bag. Pulling out a can of a drink that was juice and alcohol mixed together. A mango flavor of some kind. You glance at it and then back up to Jungkook.

“I’ve got time.”

Jungkook walked you back to your dorm. Usually you wouldn’t invite guys up but your roommate was out for the evening and you weren’t too worried about it right now. You both sat on the ground in your room. Opening up your drinks and sitting, and you begin to explain the long complicated history between you and David. How he cheated once, begged you to come back, cheated again, begged you to come back again, and then shocker… cheated again. Then made you out to be the insane one to everyone you knew. David had this uncanny way of just getting into your head and you were not letting it happen this time.

Jungkook just sat silently and listened. He didn’t try to interject or try to defend David in any way. Just let you get it all out. Which just only piqued your curiosity on their relationship even more. Were they not close like you had been told? Did something happen?

“And so that’s how he ended up here. Seeking me out again.” You take a sip of your second drink for the night.”

“What the fuck is wrong with him.” Jungkook shook his head and took a sip of his drink.

“And every time, he made me look just more and more like an idiot. For believing that each time he wants me and wants to be really committed. I kept believing it could happen, but every single time the rug is pulled out from under me and everyone is laughing at me for not seeing that he was going to do it again.” You sigh, you sank down onto the floor further. Feeling like it was dragging you down into it.

“I don’t think you’re an idiot. I think he is an asshole.” Jungkook discards his can into the plastic bag that you two had used for garbage.

“I was nervous when you came out of the store tonight. I thought you guys were still friends.”

“No, absolutely not. He pulled some crap a couple of months ago and I hope I never see him again. Clearly he thought we were still friends.” Jungkook picked at his fingernails while talking.

“He calls you his best friend, you know.” You look to see his reaction and Jungkook snorts.

“That’s rich.” He tilts his head. “He’s certainly not mine. We were pretty close though.”

“Not close enough to meet me I guess. His on and off girlfriend.”

Jungkook paused for a second, clearly trying to carefully choose his next words. “He never mentioned you.”

You sat up, you eyes narrowing for a second. “What?”

Jungkook chewed on his lip for a moment. “He never really mentioned he had a girlfriend. Not around his friends at least. I had no idea he ever had a serious relationship.”

You blink one and twice for a moment, taking in his words. You’ve met some of David’s other friends, but he never mentioned you? Not even as a fling? You just laugh because it all makes more sense now. It’s a bitter laugh.

“Great.” You rub your hands over your face, “That just makes me look even dumber when I would go around being like heres a picture of my boyfriend. Maybe I was just a dirty little secret all along.”

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook didn’t know how to respond. The whole thing just sucked.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I treated you with all of this. You didn’t even know anything. You really didn’t know what he was doing. Any of it.”

“Wait, all this freezing out and bitterness towards me for weeks had to do with David?” Jungkook scrunched his face at you.

“Yeah, you were his best friend. As far as I knew at least. I assumed that you had to know about all the stuff he was doing to me and the cheating… I just labeled you an asshole like him.” You fidgeted in your seat a little uncomfortable, and you didn’t look up to him. “It was easier to hate you than to hear you out I guess.”

“Huh.” All the pieces were suddenly falling into place now. for Jungkook.

“David and I were also so on and off. Makes sense why we never met–”

“And I didn’t remember you when class started.” Jungkook nodded, his jaw open in realization. “Because there was nothing to remember.” Every interaction between the two of you suddenly made so much sense now.

“Yeah so I’m sorry for all the bitterness and undeserving frustration. I really thought you knew and were playing dumb.” You pulled your knees up to your chest, trying to hide yourself away.

“Trust me, if I had known any of that, I probably would have kicked the crap out of him.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I swear I never knew he was seeing someone. Anytime he mentioned… anyone… he would just say oh this ‘girl I slept with’ or ‘this chick I was with’.”

It was like a new kick in the chest hearing this new piece of information from Jungkook. David lied to everyone, it wasn’t just you. Some weird comfort in the fact that no one really knows him, not even people he hangs out with all the time.

“I know now that was all bullshit, I hope you know.” He tries to reassure you.

“Thanks.” You give him a half smile. “God, now I really feel like an asshole.”

“Don’t, you didn’t know. None of us knew.” He waves you off, “Water under the bridge now.”

You sigh, “I hope so… Maybe we can start over. Now that you already know I’m kind of an asshole maybe we could actually be friends.” You sip on your drink.

“Yeah… okay.” Jungkook nods with a small grin at the corner of his mouth. “That would really piss David off.”

You give him a confused look, “Why would that piss him off?”

Jungkook sits up crossing his arms, “He has a bit of a complex and I would bet if we were hanging out. His head just might explode.”

“Oh I would pay to see that.” You laugh under your breath. “Plus being friends will probably make this project a whole lot easier.”

“Don’t speak too soon, we are starting the hardest part this week.” Jungkook groaned a little.

“Don’t remind me,” You glanced over to you piled homework at the end of your bed, “Speaking of, I should get back to my stuff now. This was nice though, actually… talking.”

“Yeah, it was.” Jungkook stood as well, he patted his pants checking he had everything he needed.

You shuffled around in your bag from the convenience store and pulled out a bag of chips and handed them to Jungkook.

“For helping me, it’s not much but it’s a start.”

“Anytime. Text me if you need help with the project.” Jungkook accepted your offer. It was a nice first step to actually being friends. Plus your new found bond of hating the same guy also helps.

With that Jungkook left. You got yourself up off the floor and back onto your bed. Picking up your phone to actually check what time it was but seeing you had missed a handful of texts. Not surprising at all.

David: come back.

David: pls

David: you expect me to believe you aren’t fucking that guy?

David: hope you have fun.

David: i bet he won’t even be able to get it up for you.

David: pls answer me.

David: can’t believe you would do this

Wow. Jungkook was right about that complex thing. Except you didn’t need him bothering you anymore. So you finally got up the courage to block his number.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Present Day

Jungkook had been back at work for a few days, but something was off. He moved through tasks like a machine—efficient, precise, but utterly lifeless. To most people, it wouldn’t seem like anything was wrong. His work was spotless, his demeanor polite, but to those who really knew him, it was clear something wasn’t right.

Jimin, for one, had definitely noticed. Jungkook was usually social, always cracking jokes or giving over-detailed play-by-plays of his workout routines. This week, though? Radio silence. It was like his body was here, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. Jimin had informed Taehyung of the weird change in Jungkook’s behavior and Taehyung encouraged Jimin to put some pressure on.

Curious—and more than a little nosy—Jimin sauntered over to Jungkook’s desk, a file in hand. Jungkook was hunched over his computer, eyes glued to the screen, typing furiously.

“Hey, I need the paperwork for the Johnson case,” Jimin said, leaning against the edge of the desk.

“Uh-huh. I’ll get that right away,” Jungkook replied without looking up, his tone flat and mechanical.

Jimin narrowed his eyes. Yep, Jungkook wasn’t listening.

“Oh, and you’re in charge of picking up two-thousand cupcakes for the office party in two hours,” Jimin added casually, watching for a reaction.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, still typing.

Jimin smirked, crossing his arms. “Cool. While you’re at it, I’ll invite Y/N to the office. Maybe she can snap you out of whatever funk this is.”

The reaction was immediate. Jungkook froze, his fingers hovering above the keyboard, his foot—previously tapping incessantly—stopping mid-bounce. Slowly, he turned to Jimin, his wide-eyed expression betraying a mix of panic and guilt.

“Y/N is coming here?” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat, trying to recover. “Why would you do that? Wh—Why would you invite Y/N here?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the overreaction. “Relax, I was joking. She’s not coming.”

“Oh,” Jungkook muttered, turning back to his computer a little too quickly. “Right. Joking. Cool.”

Jimin didn’t let it go. He leaned in closer, scrutinizing Jungkook like he was a puzzle to solve. “Why the sudden jumpiness at the mention of Y/N? You were so calm and collected about them last week.”

“I’m not jumpy,” Jungkook said immediately, his tone defensive. “I just… thought it was weird. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Jimin wasn’t buying it. He knew Jungkook too well. “Okay, spill. What’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all week—more robotic than usual. Did something happen?”

“No,” Jungkook said, a little too quickly.

Jimin crossed his arms. “Lying isn’t your strong suit, Jungkook.”

“I’m not lying,” Jungkook insisted, avoiding eye contact.

Jimin smirked knowingly. “Uh-huh. Because you have been walking around here like you’ve seen a ghost or something the last few days.”

Jungkook groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’m fine. Haven’t slept super well. Can we not do this right now?”

“Fine,” Jimin said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “But whatever’s eating you, you should probably deal with it before the trial tomorrow. Can’t have our golden boy flubbing his arguments because his brain’s stuck on something else.”

Jungkook glared at him but didn’t respond, turning back to his computer.

As Jimin walked away, he couldn’t help but grin. Something had definitely happened, and now he just had to figure out what.

Jungkook sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. His thoughts were a tangled mess, and no amount of work could drown them out. This whole situation with you had him rattled in a way he couldn’t explain.

Normally, this would’ve been easy to brush off. It wasn’t guilt because there was nothing to feel guilty about. And it wasn’t shame either—no one knew what had happened between you two, and even if they did, he wasn’t the type to care about whispers.

So why couldn’t he shake this feeling? He leaned back, staring at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. He could only imagine a huge reason is this is really the only time he has slept with someone outside of being in a relationship with them. It was strange for sure, especially because it’s not just that it’s someone random…

It was you.

Jungkook can only assume he feels so out of sorts because of those two factors. He also has no intention of getting into a relationship with you. So you were right, although he would never admit it to you, this should never happen again. It was completely throwing Jungkook off, and he can conclude Taehyung’s stupid theory is wrong. Plus it was not helping your relationship, you two were still acting exactly the same as before… plus sex.

“What are you even doing?” Jungkook muttered as he leaned back in his desk chair.

His phone buzzed on the desk, the vibration breaking through the noise in his head. He glanced at the screen, his shoulders relaxing slightly when he saw Namjoon’s name.

Namjooooooon: Hey mel and I are planning to get everyone together Saturday. You in?

Namjooooooon: ps y/n will probably be there. Melanie misses them too much to not invite them…

Jungkook paused thinking if it would be a good idea. You two hadn’t parted exactly well but not as explosively as other times. He could keep himself in check for sure. He just wasn’t too sure if all this time he was sending around you was withering him away or not.

Jk: I’ll be there.

With that he placed his phone back on the table, forcing himself to dive back into his work. He had a long day and an even longer few weeks ahead of him and he needed to stay focussed. He needed to put a pin in whatever this feeling is and deal with it maybe another time.

On the other hand, you had done a great job at not having any feelings at all.

You had managed to push everything from the weekend out of your mind—or at least, you told yourself you had. You threw yourself into work with the kind of laser focus that made your coworkers pause. It was probably the most productive you’d been in weeks. Charts updated. Paperwork completed. Patients checked. You almost didn’t feel like yourself, but that was the point, wasn’t it?

Unfortunately, in your single-minded determination to stay busy, you’d also been unintentionally dodging Vic. She’d tried to grab you a few times, but somehow, you always managed to slip away with the excuse of an urgent task. You told yourself it was for the best. If anyone was going to see the guilt of the weekend written all over your face, it was her.

Still, as well as you were doing at shoving your questionable life choices into a mental box labeled “Ignore Forever”, your thoughts betrayed you sometimes. The absurdity of it all would creep in at random moments. Like now, as you absentmindedly flipped through patient charts at the nurses’ station. You couldn’t help but think about a time when the idea of even entertaining the thought of Jungkook would’ve sent you to the ER, convinced you were having a mental breakdown.

Maybe you really did need professional help.

As if on cue, Yoongi plopped down at the station, clearly in no mood for nonsense as he typed furiously at the computer. Perfect. A distraction. You slid your chair closer, the sound of the wheels catching his attention.

“Yoongi,” you whined, leaning dramatically into his personal space.

He didn’t even look at you, just sighed as though bracing for whatever chaos you were about to bring. “What can I do for you Y/N?”

“What are all the symptoms of a brain tumor?” you asked, propping your chin on your hands.

Yoongi froze for half a second, then slowly turned his head to look at you. “Why? Do you think one of the patients is exhibiting some strange behavior?” His voice was flat, but the shift in his tone betrayed his concern.

“Nope,” you said breezily. “I’m asking for me.”

One eyebrow shot up, but he still didn’t miss a beat on his keyboard. “Well, I’m pretty sure you don’t have a brain tumor.” He finally finished typing and swiveled his chair to face you fully. “But just to be safe, you can always page one of the neuro dude bros. That’s their thing, not mine.”

Yoongi knew that most of the nurses, including yourself, had a major distaste for the neuro residents. The guys in particular were acting like it was a frat. It was his way of teasing.

“Ugh, I hate all the neuro residents,” you groaned, flopping back in your chair. “You, however, are conveniently here and a very qualified doctor.”

He smiled faintly, clearly unimpressed. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

You gasped, clutching your chest in fake betrayal. “Come on, one little head CT. I’ll even write you a glowing review on RateMDs.”

“Sure,” he deadpanned, standing and ruffling your hair as he moved to leave. “Let’s just order an expensive, unnecessary scan for fun. I’m sure Dr. Kim will love that.”

You trotted after him as he headed for the elevator. “Hear me out. What if I do have a brain tumor? We could be solving a medical mystery together. Dr. Kim would forgive us in a heartbeat!”

He snorted as the elevator doors opened. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

“This isn’t over!” You called as the doors closed on his smirk. Defeated, you trudged back to the nurses’ station and sank into your chair, picking up where you left off with your paperwork. You were so close to the finish line, so close to clocking out, when Vic’s voice cut through the hum of the station like a scalpel.

“Are you avoiding me?”

You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Slowly, you turned in your chair to face her. Vic was leaning casually against the half-wall of the nurses’ station, arms crossed, her expression far too knowing for your comfort.

“What? No!” you said quickly, too quickly. “I’ve just been… busy.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she pushed off the wall and grabbed the chair next to you, plopping down with an audible sigh. “You’ve been a blur all week,” she said, propping her chin on her hand. “Every time I see you, it’s like you’re ducking behind walls or conveniently getting pulled into a room. I haven’t even had a chance to properly harass you.”

“Well, you’ve got me now.” You said with a nervous laugh that sounded more like a squeak.

Vic tilted her head, studying you with the precision of a predator sizing up its prey. “I do. So, why do you look like you’ve committed a crime?”

“No crime. Same old me. Nothing new.” You shake your head maybe a little too vigorously for convincing, but Vic decides its been a long day so maybe you were just being weird.

Vic stared at you for a beat longer, clearly unconvinced. But to your relief, she shrugged it off, picking up a tablet and tapping her stylus against the screen. “Alright, fine. Just wanted to make sure I didn’t scare you away or something. I desperately need you to stay up here as long ass they’ll let me have you, after all”

You exhaled slowly, grateful she wasn’t pressing further—for now.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while, the sounds of the nurses’ station filling the air: keyboard clicks, faint beeps from patient monitors, and the occasional chatter in the background. Except your mind was far from settled. The thing was, you couldn’t talk about this situation with Ash or Melanie. Ash had never kept a secret in her life, and Melanie? She’d tell Namjoon in a heartbeat. And once Namjoon knew, it’d be over for you.

Vic was your best bet. Sure, she’d laugh at you, but you could handle that. You’d endured worse. And keeping it bottled up was slowly driving you insane.

Finally, you rolled your chair back and turned toward her. She was immersed in her tablet, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

“Okay, there’s one thing,” you said hesitantly, gripping onto the edge of your seat harder than you had realized.

Vic’s head popped up, her brows arching. “What’s up?”

You hesitated, twisting your fingers together nervously. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? Promise.”

She rolled her eyes, setting the tablet on her lap. “Who am I going to tell? Mr. Jones in 342? He’s not exactly a vault of secrets.”

“He’s a blabbermouth,” you deadpanned, earning a chuckle from her. Mr. Jones was in a coma. He wasn’t on this floor but everyone knew about him since he had been here a few years. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “Okay. So, uh… it happened again.”

Vic’s brow furrowed in confusion, her head tilting slightly. “What happened again?”

“Me and…” You lowered your voice to a whisper, glancing around to make sure no one was in earshot. “You know who.”

Vic stared at you, blinking once. Then twice. You could see the gears turning as she connected the dots. And then her jaw dropped. “You what? Say it again, because I need to make sure I’m not hallucinating.”

“Jungkook and I…” You swallowed hard. “…again.”

For a moment, there was nothing but stunned silence. And then she erupted into laughter—loud, unabashed laughter that had several people glancing your way.

Vic tried to stifle her laughter, but it bubbled out anyway, her shoulders shaking. “I’m sorry, but this is gold. What happened to ‘it didn’t fix anything, and you still hate him’? Is he just that good?” she teased, her grin positively wicked.

“Vic!” you whined, swatting at her arm, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed your embarrassment.

“Okay, okay,” she said, raising her hands in surrender, though the smirk on her face didn’t budge. “But seriously, what are you going to do now?”

You let out a long, drawn-out sigh, slumping back into your chair like the weight of the world was pressing down on you. “Avoid him. Forever, if I can manage it.”

Vic tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “Yeah, because that worked so well the first time.” She shook her head, laughing softly as she turned back to her tablet. “You’re a mess. But I love you for it.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms defensively. “I am not a mess. I’d like to think I’m actually very well composed.”

Vic snorted, her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. “Right, right. Say that again when you’re not—”

“Victoria.” You interrupted sharply, cutting her off with a pointed look.

“Damn, alright. No need to use my full name like I’m in trouble. Anyway... how did it happen?” Her teasing tone softened slightly as she leaned forward, genuinely curious now. “Walk me through it. Start to... unfortunate finish.”

You groaned again, rubbing your temples. “Do we have to?”

“Oh, absolutely. This is the best thing that’s happened all week.” She said, propping her chin on her hand as if settling in for storytime.

With another sigh, you gave in, recounting the night in as much detail as you could bear—the tizzy outside, then the bathroom and then how you two made it to the unthinkable end. Your shift had ended in the time it took you to explain everything and Vic had followed you to the locker room while you got your stuff.

Unthinkable maybe a few months ago.

“I’m jealous. I wish I had something this entertaining happening in my life. The most interesting gossip I have is about Dr. Kim’s surgery this morning.” She leaned against a locker next to you as you had gotten your stuff.

“Be glad because it’s a pain in reality.” You sigh, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Now I need to go home and wash this extremely long day off of me.”

“Well don’t stumble into Jungkook's bed on your way there.”

Just before you leave the locker room, You turn back to her. “I hate you.”

“Love you too baby. Get home safe.” She waves for you to get out of here. Escape while you still could.

You exhaled deeply as you exited the locker room, the weight of the day pulling at your shoulders. Every muscle in your body ached, and the thought of a hot shower and your bed felt like a distant dream. As you reached the elevator, you spotted Ji-eun shuffling slowly down the hallway, her IV bag trailing behind her like a stubborn shadow.

“Goodnight, Ji-eun,” you called out, giving her a small wave as you pressed the elevator button.

“Leaving so early?” she teased, her voice light but tired as she made her way over to you. You could tell from her slower steps and the way she leaned slightly to one side that today hadn’t been a good day for her.

“Short shift today,” you replied with a warm smile, masking your concern. “You should be off that leg if it’s bothering you.”

“Never,” she quipped, standing up straighter and puffing out her chest in defiance. “Can’t you see? I’ve got all the energy in the world!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “All right. Come on, let me walk you back to your room.”

Ji-eun beamed, looping her arm through yours as if you’d just made her day. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Someone has to keep you in check.” You teased, giving her a gentle nudge as the two of you started down the hallway.

“So,” She began, her tone shifting to one of playful curiosity. “You haven’t updated me on your annoying boy this week. Still giving you trouble?”

You groaned inwardly but couldn’t help smiling at her persistence. “Just a little, but nothing I can’t handle,” you said lightly, hoping to steer the conversation away.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Ji-eun said, narrowing her eyes at you. “What happened this time?”

You hesitated but gave in under her expectant gaze. “I ran into him again. It... wasn’t great. We fought again.”

She gasped dramatically, clutching your arm like you’d just revealed a scandal. “How thrilling! And here I was thinking my life was dramatic with all these needles and IV bags.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No more run-ins this week, though, so that’s a win.”

Ji-eun gave your arm a comforting squeeze. “Progress. Honestly, I wish my boys would talk about things like this. All they ever discuss these days is what’s happening at work.”

“Either of them coming by tonight?”

Ji-eun shakes her head, “No they both are so busy. My youngest especially these days. My husband will be here after too long though.”

“Good, and trust me, you’re not missing much. I would accept work gossip over boy drama any day.” You said, though your smile wavered slightly as the truth of your own words settled over you.

When you reached her room, you helped her ease into bed, adjusting her blankets and making sure she was comfortable. You still hadn’t gotten the chance to meet any of her family yet but her hospital room had been filling up more and more with things from home and things to keep her entertained. It was nice to see what she elected to have around her here.

“You’re a saint,” Ji-eun murmured, her voice softer now, the day’s fatigue catching up to her.

“I’m just doing my job,” you replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. “You need to take it easier since your treatments are going to just make everyday tasks even harder.”

“I’ll try. Goodnight, Y/N.” She points for you to leave dramatically and you comply.

“Goodnight,” Leaving with the weight of your shoulder now really barring down on you now.

You got onto the elevator and heading down to the garage. Your phone buzzing in your pocket.

MEL: ME YOU ASH. SATURDAY NIGHT. IN OR OUT.

You laugh, thank god Melanie was back in town. You really needed a good night in with her and Ash so this text couldn’t come at a better time.

:IM IN

MEL: AMAZING

MEL: small detail I may have let out

MEL: It will also include the boys too..

MEL: BUT YOU ALREADY AGREED SO YOU CANT BACK OUT NOW

Which you knew meant Jungkook. Great.

:that’s fine It'll be fun no matter what

You could very well keep it together. Just stay one arm attached to Melanie and nothing could go wrong. You missed her dearly and of course Namjoon. Although he probably didn’t miss the sleepovers you, Ash and Melanie would have where he ended up getting kicked out of his own bed.

Which very well may happen again this weekend.

You continued about your week normally and so did Jungkook. Jungkook’s week had been consumed by the trial, which included long days in court, late nights reviewing documents, and the constant hum of pressure to perform. Yet, despite the chaos, things were looking up. His team was solid, their arguments tight, and with the trial on recess until Monday, Jungkook felt unusually optimistic. Optimistic enough, in fact, to accept Taehyung’s invite for a drink—a rarity for him during trial season.

Both Jungkook and Taehyung tried to rope Namjoon into coming out as well, and Namjoon was almost convinced. Then about forty five minutes ago he was texting something about having to prepare the house for the invasion, cryptically. They both were completely unsure what that was supposed to mean.

Taehyung was already waiting in a booth when Jungkook arrived, beer in hand and a mischievous grin ready to pounce. As Jungkook slid into the seat across from him, Taehyung gave an exaggerated round of applause. “Mr. Responsible Lawyer Boy, gracing me with his presence. This is truly an honor.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a smile as he set his whiskey down on the table. “Don’t get used to it. I’ve still got a mountain of paperwork waiting for me tomorrow.”

“Of course you do,” Taehyung said, raising his beer. “But look at you now—drink in hand, no case files in sight. Dare I say, you’re almost acting human.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” Jungkook replied, taking a sip of his whiskey. “I’ve still got a trial to win. But things are going well enough that I figured I could afford one night off. Or at least an hour.”

“Rare footage of Jungkook actually relaxing,” Taehyung said, pulling out his phone and pretending to film him. “Better capture this before you start muttering about depositions and cross-examinations again.”

Jungkook smirked, setting his glass down. “I’d be careful if I were you. That phone footage might mysteriously disappear.”

Taehyung chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Alright, mystery man. So, what’s got you in such a good mood? Jimin’s been saying you’ve been acting... off this week.”

Jungkook sighed, he figured he would hear something about earlier this week. Jimin and Taehyung were already in Jungkook's business enough so any change in behavior does not escape them, “Of course he has. Between the wedding and this trial, I’ve had a lot on my plate. That’s all.”

“Sure, sure,” Taehyung said, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “You’ve barely had any time for me. Do you know how neglected I feel? My best friend, abandoning me in my time of need?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes again. “Poor you. You were one of the groomsmen if you remember. I saw you the entire time.”

“Poor me indeed! You were so busy trying to one up Y/N the whole time.” Taehyung exclaimed, throwing an arm over his eyes in mock despair. “I’ve had to survive on scraps of attention while you’ve been off doing... whatever it is you’ve been doing.”

“Work,” Jungkook said pointedly. “Once this trial is over, I’ll have plenty of time to make it up to you. My mind’s just been... all over the place lately.”

“Something bothering you?” Taehyung asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort. “Anything you want to share with the class?”

Jungkook pushed him back with a laugh. “No. Nothing in particular.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung took a long sip of his beer, clearly not convinced. Jungkook could sense now Taehyung was dancing around something. He had something he wanted to ask. “Jimin said you’ve been quieter than usual. That’s weird, even for you, especially this close to a trial. Thought there might be something on your mind.”

“If this trial goes well, it’s a huge opportunity for me. Potential promotion. That’s all.” Jungkook shrugs, playing it cool. Still unsure where Taehyung is taking this.

Taehyung nodded slowly, as if considering this. “Makes sense. But, you know, I thought I might’ve had an idea why you’ve been acting so strange...”

“Tae,” Jungkook said, narrowing his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

Taehyung grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Nothing, nothing. Forget I said anything.” He sat up straight, switching gears with a dramatic clap of his hands. “I do know how you can make it up to me for all the lost hang-out time, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook said, skeptical. “What’s that?”

“If you tell me what’s going on with you and Y/N.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter

Taglist!: @akkhddhfairys @njcxlewxrld @kooklovee @ericawantstoescape @pitchblack0309 @rpwprpwprpwprw @lanie97 @httpjeonlicious @jollis87 @oopscoop @rinkud @deepikhaprakash @chuuritoz @jkslvsnella @eisthv @bangatanily @smwhrinthehaze @jjkologys @nono13bnd @vantelover1306 @jalexad @sadgirlroo @chimmisbae @smoljjks @miniesjams32 @daskewl @kookienooki

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・

a/n: Maybe not the most exciting chapter but I have been very excited to show that college flashback. Although not the most important piece of their history - it is important none the less... because they were friends once?? hmmmmmm.

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ashtxrie · 8 months ago

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plot twist! (sunoo)

PAIR. hogwarts student! sunoo x gn! hogwarts student! reader GENRE. hogwarts au, best friends to lovers, fluff, idiots in love, sunghoon is a real one (no house specifications mentioned!) WORD COUNT. 1.2k WARNINGS. none :) NOTES. everyone needs a sunghoon in their lives… + can you tell that i love the best friends to lovers trope with sunoo IN WHICH: you were trying to get kim sunoo to reveal who he liked while brewing amortentia, yet somehow sunghoon tricks you into revealing your feelings instead. what a jerk.

sunoo stares solemnly at the potion bubbling in his cauldron, fiddling with his fingers. the opalescent sheen of amortentia reflects in his eyes, and he turns to look at you, shrugging helplessly.

“just smell it,” you offer helpfully. “what could go wrong?”

sunoo looks at you mildly. you can already tell he’s beginning to think of everything that has gone wrong every single time you say something like this.

“right.” he cracks a smile. “like when you convinced me to eat two sugar hexes in one go?”

“that was once –”

“and when you told me to walk through the bloody baron?”

“i was in first year–”

sunoo laughs. “just wow. that’s horrible advice.” he leans backwards from the cauldron, his fingers still pinching his nose. “but like sunghoon said,” he begins melodramatically, swiping a hand across his forehead, “amortentia makes lovesick fools of us all.”

you raise an eyebrow. “yeah, i doubt he’s ever said that.”

sunoo scowls, though not really meaning it, continuing to stare intently at the amortentia. “shut up,” he says, now resorting to waving the wisps of spiraling steam away from his face. “let me have my moment.”

“yeah, which you’ll have if you just smell the potion for once,” you say with a gleam in your eye. “what, are you afraid that it’ll be mint choco or something?”

“i will not smell mint choco oh my god–”

“oh you definitely will.”

“i love mint choco but not like that– what is wrong with you how are we friends–”

“then what are you so afraid of?”

your question catches him off guard, and he stays silent for a moment. he opens his mouth, about to say something, then closes it again. he shakes his head, eyes darting to look at something behind you. “i– i don’t know.”

the seconds of silence that follow are broken as sunoo stands up too quickly, apothecary vials jittering. every eye lands on him, and he flushes, saying a quick “sorry!” before he turns back to you. “i’m just going to go and,” he gestures vaguely. “get more ingredients for the potion.” he sticks his hands in the pockets of his robes and makes for the cupboard, until sunghoon park stretches out his hand and pulls sunoo into the seat beside him.

the class snickers, rolling their eyes, and resumes their creation of the potion. somewhere near the stained glass windows, the professor reprimands jake for attempting to slip a bit of his amortentia into a small vial after a dare niki gave him.

sunoo and sunghoon whisper furiously at the desk near yours, and you can hear a little bit of what they’re saying.

sunoo holds his face in his hands, shaking his head repeatedly as he groans. “i can’t!”

sunghoon whispers something back, rolling his eyes. he looks up to meet your gaze, then shakes sunoo, and leans down to whisper something.

sunoo peeks at you from behind his fingers, then abruptly shuts his eyes again and slams his head against the table.

you frown, tapping on jungwon’s shoulder. “watch my amortentia for me, will you?”

the boy nods, shrugging, as you get up and sit across from sunghoon and sunoo.

their conversation cuts off immediately. sunghoon looks immensely pleased.

“why are you acting so weird?” you reach to fix an apothecary bottle that lies skewed on the desk.

sunghoon nudges sunoo. “why’re you acting so weird, sunoo?”

sunoo laughs quickly. “weird? i’m not weird, never!” he flushes, pulling at his hair. “nevermind, don’t answer that. i am weird. the weirdest.”

meanwhile the color from sunghoon’s face drains, and he widens his eyes in exasperation. “shut up,” he hisses.

sunoo nods while sending sunghoon a look, trying to stop his hands from quivering. “okay yeah you’re right.”

sunghoon looks at you dryly, pushing the cauldron of amortentia toward you. “what do you smell?”

you waft the potion towards you, smirking. “the real question is what sunoo smells. he ran away before i could get him to tell me.”

sunoo stiffens.

“i personally think he’ll smell mint choco,” you offer, nudging his shoe with your foot.

“oh really?” sunghoon smirks, his eyes boring into you. “that’s interesting. very interesting, actually.”

“you don’t think he will?”

“definitely not.” sunghoon folds his hands on the table and devilishly stares at you and sunoo. “oh, this is golden.”

you roll your eyes, beginning to rattle off all the things you smell. then you pause. “there’s something else too, it’s sort of odd.”

sunoo looks up curiously, his hands stilling. “what is it?”

you frown. “it’s like citrus, freshly washed clothes and–”

“–white peach?” sunghoon inserts casually, his voice a little too light, a little too innocent.

you brighten. “yeah. you’re right, actually.” you look at him curiously, tilting your head. “how’d you–”

recognition ticks in the back of your brain and you freeze. “shit.”

you don’t notice the way sunoo’s face turns a bright shade of pink, the smallest smile beginning to flutter at the edges of his lips.

instead, you stand up from the table and return to your desk, frantically stirring your amortentia.

sunoo walks by your seat after a while, standing near your desk. “um,” he says.

you shake your head and glare at your potion. “go away.”

“okay.” and then, “sorry.”

you watch out the corner of your eye as he returns to sunghoon, who facepalms.

the clocktower chimes and you rush out of the classroom.

you spend the rest of the week avoiding them until one day, sunoo taps on your shoulder. there’s no one else in the corridor.

he looks down at his feet, his hands shaky. “i think you know why i want to talk to you.”

you shrug. “just forget it.”

sunoo leans back, eyes hurt. “forget it?”

“yeah. i don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“what if i don’t want to forget?” he looks up at you, his eyes soft. “would that be so bad?”

you stare at him, something happy bubbling inside.

“i didn’t tell you what my amortentia smells like because i already knew.” he smiles. “like foggy days in the astronomy tower.” he stares at you hopefully. “and trying new skincare while talking about anything into the night in the common room. and eating mint choco ice cream in hogsmeade– so, i mean, in a way, you were right, i kinda of did smell mint choco too…”

realization dawns on your face. “you should’ve just told me!”

sunoo gives you a teasing look. “you should’ve just told me!”

you smile happily. “take me to hogsmeade next weekend.”

“of course.” sunoo wraps you in a hug, resting his head in the crook of your neck and smiling against your skin. “i really, really like you. i always have.”

you nod, breathing in the lingering scent of white peach. “me too.”

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen blurbs #enhypen fic #enhypen sunoo #kim sunoo #sunoo #sunoo x reader #sunoo imagines #sunoo fluff #sunoo fic #sunoo soft hours #ashtxrie #— ash writes!

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mizusnose · 10 months ago

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Mrs. & Mrs. Smith

In which Mizu and fem! reader are assigned to top-secret missions that are high-risk under the guise of being one another’s wives. Violence and sexual/romantic tension ensue!

based off maya erskine’s new series—I’m obsessed..

You both are very cold, calculated killers that the government has placed in this mission. It’s meant to be a long term thing, months for sure, years? most likely.

The first time you both meet, it’s awkward. Mizu is all long pale limbs and a dark spill of hair against strong shoulders, stronger chest.

She eyes you as you blatantly check her out. “You know this isn’t real, right?”

And you shrug, bite your lip and get moved in. Ignoring the way you can feel Mizu’s glare on you as you walk up the stairs to your room.

Your missions are vague. A note at the door step in the mornings. Mizu wakes before you do usually, and when she saunters into your room, bedtime robe slipping off her rippling shoulders, you try not to drool too obviously.

She gives you the rundown and you’re dressed in an hour. The mission is simple: deliver an unmarked package, then leave.

Yet, as Mizu ties up her hair as you’re both being chased onto a boat where the designated drop point is, you feel your heart race—not from the adrenaline or danger.

Her jaw is sharp, cut into a jagged point where it slopes off soft and connecting to her ears—the ones that stick out slightly. Make her look younger. You blush despite the situation.

Fast forward to after dropping off the package when suddenly the package erupts and sends you both flying off into the pier.

You’re both soaking by the time you’re on shore, but you’re met with enemies who leave you no option but to surrender.

You try very hard not to focus entirely on the long katana pressed to Mizu’s neck: the heartbeat you can see flutter there as she quickly knocks the man unconscious.

As if on autopilot, you do the same: respond to her move, meet her in the middle.

More men come, but you’re both fighting: a flow that mimics the sea and the flow of clouds on a windy day. You flip Mizu over your back with ease, her grunts sending a deep heat into your belly.

When you both return home, Mizu showers, and you slip inside, hands finding her waist, her shoulders, the place on her neck where the sharp of the blade was earlier.

You kiss it, an apology. A promise, maybe. She cleans the dried blood off your forehead and you laugh, amused.

What? she’ll ask, confused. Nothing. Just, happy wife, happy life, right?

Mizu kisses you to shut you up.

———

The amount of blood loss from a bloody nose alone would have me in shambles..imagine seeing mizu in action…wow

#blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x fem!reader #headcanons #fanfiction

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shugar0cone · 10 months ago

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“Are we bad people”

-summary-

A y/n x Alastor story where they where the killers Alastor was reporting. Oh and y/n is questioning it.

About a month ago I found out my husband was the killer he obsessed about. My reaction was dumb except for throwing up from the realization on his deer meat being off. I could not believe what I seen but at the same time I knew deep deep down he was it, but i could not come to the term of it. I loved my husband more deep than I should have.

“Alastor?” I looked at him, I never had fear over this man, sure he could kill me but if he wanted too he could, we slept in the same bed for Christ sake. “Yes, my dear.” He was digging the hole for Mr.Johnson, he cheated on his wife when he was on a business trip, too much fat to get real proteins out of him. “Why.” I really had to think of how to word this. He was bi polar snapping from the Alastor I know to the Alastor of the night in the shed. “Why, do we murder.” He stopped his shovel. I tensed, my screams couldn’t be heard this far out, animals would eat me in seconds, and if I ran fuck what am I saying mans got legs of a giraffe. I held alastors shot gun, I was scared, for the first time in my life. The owls stoped hooting, crickets went silent. “Darling.” I snapped out of my thoughts. “We kill the bad people.” I thought about it, he was right. We killed from the whores to child abusers. We did kill the bad, but does that make us good?

Surprise surprise we both ended up in hell. I constantly thought about that night. The night of why, why we killed. Maybe now it’s different, for him it’s power, fear, and entertainment. I just wanted to punish the bad. I was feared as much as AL, having a small area in the pentagram. It was the cleanest and most organized area anyone who disobeyed and called out they met with ME, then never was seen again.

It was late one night. I watched over my people or citizens I don’t know how to put it. Deep in thought, wondering what I’ll do for this, that, and more normal overloard shit.

“Darling why all the sulking!” He popped up out of nowhere I was used to it by this point. “I’m not sulking hun.” I pushed my hair back. “Just.” I breathed out. “Watching the devil ducks fly or..” I cut down twords two ducks fight the other bitting its head off. “What ever those freaks do.” I laughed. “Ah.” He stood right next to me. “I hate it when ya lie, darling.” He got frustrated. “I know you.” He said laughing. He grabbed my chin, looking at me. His eyes made contact with mine, I looked down ashamed of what I’m going to say

“Are we the bad people…”

A/N: Wow! I like this honestly it’s hard bc I’m used to putting oc’s names and not y/n and some might be vague anyways thanks for reading hun!

-Shugar

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel

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atinyniki · 1 year ago

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only mine.

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!kim seungmin x f!reader

genre: fluff, a little angst

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, crying, lots of fighting, possessiveness (seungmin), lots of jealousy (also seungmin), accusations/slut-shaming, seungmin is referred to as min, minnie, and seungie, unprofessional work ethics, seungmin is a real jerk, nonconsensual kissing, drinking, forced proximity (shared bed), drunk confessions, seungmin is TOXICCCC!

authors note: one of my least fav fics ngl, didnt have very great ideas for this one but i tried my best ! this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 4482

(pt. 2)

“i’m sorry y/n…”

you’re sitting on the couch, hands awkwardly placed in your lap. “it’s okay, i wasn’t expecting anything it’s just… i needed to get it off my chest.”

your relationship with jeongin is basically ruined at this point. things are going to be terribly awkward now, especially since you’re one of the makeup artists for stray kids.

the boys are all great friends with you too, so there’s not really a high chance of you getting put with another group.

jeongin stays silent, and you take it as a sign to leave. you quickly make your way out of the room to see seungmin on the couch, smirking at you. your eyes were already welling up with tears, you just wanted jeongin to say something.

instead, you’re met with seungmin, tears threatening to leave your eyes. “did you really think someone like jeongin would like you back?”

your heart plummets, you feel sick to your stomach. you don’t answer, walking toward the front door. “awhh, someone’s upset”

“not right now seungmin, i’m not in the mood.”

“you’re never in the mood. now get the fuck out.”

you quickly shut the door behind you, taking a deep breath and making your way home. it’s just a simple rejection, you know, but seungmins words still linger in your mind.

what were you thinking? jeongin would never like someone like you.

it was time to shoot their new music video, the whole atmosphere feeling incredibly awkward. jeongin did his best to avoid you, tending to another stylist instead.

you quickly finish up chans makeup, showing him what it looks like in the mirror. he practically beams at you, you know you’ve done well. “why aren’t you talking y/n?”

you swallow down the lump in your throat, you know you can trust chan. “oh nothing, just a little awkward now”

“why so?”

“jeongin didn’t tell you?”

chan looks incredibly confused, shaking his head with an eyebrow slightly raised. you give in, explaining the story vaguely to chan, making sure to leave out the interaction with seungmin.

“oh wow… and he said… nothing?”

you slowly nod, head hung low. chan can see the hurt swirling in your eyes, “it’s okay, at least that means he didn’t say anything bad”

you laugh a little at chans logic, thinking about what seungmin said. jeongin is too good for you. you know it. why did you even try?

you continue your conversation with chan, when all of a sudden, seungmin pops up behind you. “wow… first jeongin and now chan? jeez, talk about desperate…”

you try to contain yourself in front of the boys, swallowing down the harsh words that are so incredibly close to leaving your mouth.

you couldn’t get anything out, just simply mumbling a quick apology and darting out the door before the tears spilled. you don’t know why seungmin hates you so much.

as soon as the door shuts, you can hear chan yelling at seungmin. you don’t want to ruin their friendship, and you’re truly considering leaving for a bit.

you arrive home, quickly changing and flopping onto the bed. the heavy feeling in your heart doesn’t go away.

suddenly, you get a text. you check your phone, wondering who could be texting you.

minmin 🐶 : stay away from them, seriously. you’re making jeongin uncomfortable.

you don’t really know how to answer, so you just lay there with your phone in your hand. you don’t know how to gather your feelings about anything right now.

minmin 🐶: you can’t just go around fucking with every guy you find hot

another text breaks you out of your thoughts.

minmin 🐶: are you not even going to answer?

y/n: i’m not fucking around with anyone, seungmin.

minmin 🐶: then what is it for?

minmin 🐶: money?

minmin 🐶: attention?

y/n: no seungmin, it’s because i actually have feelings.

y/n: just leave me alone, please?

minmin 🐶: oh so now all of a sudden it’s a sensitive subject for you?

y/n: why do you keep bugging me about this seungmin? i’m trying to get over it

y/n: i’ll stay away from jeongin, just leave me alone.

you could see seungmin typing, and then it suddenly stops. you don’t get a message after that, and decide to just go to sleep.

you’re preparing for another filming session, touching up jeongin’s makeup. you make sure not to get too close, remembering what seungmin had said to you not too long ago.

seungmin seems to be giving you weird looks from across the room. you don’t think anything of it, and continue fixing up jeongin’s makeup. before you turn around to help changbin, you give jeongin a smile.

jeongin doesn’t return the smile however, instead walking over to seungmin to talk about the choreography. you don’t think anything of it, and just do your job. you’re not overstepping your boundaries, especially after jeongin established them.

or after… seungmin established them.

the room is dead silent aside from changbins vocal warmups. you quickly complete seungmins makeup, making sure not to say a word that could set his mood off.

you bring out the hair curler, slowly framing seungmins bangs around his face. you see seungmins eyes darting around, but you decide to focus on the task at hand.

once seungmin makes sure his arms are hidden from the camera, he tugs you by the shirt, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.

before you can even manage to escape, he pushes you off of him. the curler falls onto you, burning a thick line onto your forearm. “what the fuck y/n?! why would you do that?!”, he exclaimed.

all heads are turned towards you now, “what do you mean?! you kissed me?!”, you replied incredulously.

the staff manages to get you as far away from him as possible. along with losing most of your friends, you also lose your reputation, as well as your job. it feels as if everything has suddenly shattered because of one stupid crush.

you knew that seungmin had hated you for a while, maybe you shouldn’t have pissed him off with jeongin.

the security camera footage didn’t show any signs of seungmin kissing you, so they took his word for it. you were no longer a part of stray kids’ team.

weeks passed. you didn’t want to bring up seungmin to the managers, it was pointless to ruin his career. it would be easier for you to find a new job, but for seungmin, the backlash would be incredibly overwhelming. you couldn’t do that to him.

you weren’t completely let go of though, only moved to work with itzy instead. if you’ll be honest, it’s a lot easier to work without having seungmin around. you’re more focused on your job now.

“is it really true that seungmin framed you?”, yuna asks abruptly.

you were taken aback by the sudden question, not knowing if you should answer or not. “umm…”

ryujin walks over to you, resting a hand on your shoulder. she leans over to whisper something into your ear. “we heard the boys arguing about it… i know you didn’t do it, y/n”

shit. your eyes stay on the floor, afraid to look up. “talk to him, please y/n”, yuna begs.

you jerk your head up towards her, “seungmin?”

“yeah? who else? dummy”

you consider it for a moment, maybe this was your chance to clear out the tension between you two. “i’ll think about it”

you weren’t lying. you thought about it all night. you know he wouldn’t want to, but maybe, just maybe, he’d give you one more chance.

you finish styling your hair and doing your makeup, flattening down the sides of your hot pink dress. you thought it’d fit the theme for the party tonight because of the comeback.

you’re not quite sure why you’re even invited, but a party is a party right? you quickly drive there, making a mental note not to drink at all. you need to be in proper condition to get home.

you finally walk into the room, all the girls rushing to you instantly. lily is squealing because of your outfit, while yeji is fixing the jewelry adorning your neck. you all have a blast. that is, until the boys noticed you.

you’re suddenly reminded of how you left the boys in the first place, a little discomfort visible on your face. suddenly, you’re dragged away from the girls by seungmin, unable to free yourself from his hold.

“ooa- y/nnie! you’re here?”, he slurs.

yeah. he was definitely drunk. since when did he start calling you y/nnie anyways? “you’re drunk, dumbass”

“well duh- you look prettyyy”

his words get more confusing by the second. why is he acting like this towards you? “thanks min”

he giggles at the nickname, a sound you don’t hear very often, until an arm grabs him behind. “oh gosh y/n, i’m so sorry, he’s been looking for you all night”, jeongin says with a nervous chuckle.

“all night…?”

“shhh don’t tell her”, seungmin pleaded with puppy eyes.

“tell me what?”, he’s piqued your interest now.

jeongin begins to speak, “noth-“

“that i’m in love with youuu”

your jaw drops, jeongin’s does too. you both share a look, then turning to look at seungmin, who’s already lunging towards you. he clings onto your arm, smiling and nuzzling into your shoulder.

“jeongin. how long did you know about this?!”

he looks at you, the expression on his face is one of guilt. “almost a year now…”

your eyes widen, and you stare at seungmin. his face is bright red, too wasted to comprehend what is happening right now. jeongin says a quick goodbye, leaving you to deal with seungmin.

“y/nnieeee can we go to your house? it’s too loud here”, he pouts. you consider it for a moment, but then you remember how he might react when he wakes up in the morning.

he grabs your arm, kissing over the burn that he gave you. you didn’t push him away though, but not because it felt good. of course it didn’t feel good. okay… maybe it felt good.

maybe seungmin would appreciate you taking him home rather than being stuck with seven drunk guys. you look down at him again, who’s hopelessly clinging onto your arm. “pleaseeee?”, he asks with puppy eyes.

how can someone look so cute doing that?

wait. what? what are you thinking? kim seungmin is far from cute. of course, you still gave in and agreed though. “fine, but you can’t trash my house okay?”

“mmph okay”, he slurs. you quickly drag him out of the place, saying your goodbyes and rushing him to your car before people can ask questions. he sits comfortably in your car, hands placed in his lap and soft hums leaving his lips.

his voice is laced with exhaustion, and even then it sounds so beautiful. you stay silent on the way home, not wanting to interrupt his singing.

“we’re here”, you say quietly.

seungmin quickly exits the car before you can even put your hand on the handle and opens the door for you.

what a gentleman.

you laugh at his silly antics, and a frown makes its way onto his face. “i’m sorry, i wanted to help you a little too.”, he spoke softly.

you look up at him while you exit the car, his lower lip quivering slightly. you don’t say anything, but you grab his hand and lead him inside to your room.

you grab a change of clothes for him and rush to the bathroom to get dressed for bed. when you’re finished, you walk out again to see seungmin sitting on the bed, crying.

“what’s wrong min?”

“w-who’s clothes are these? do you have a boyfriend? why do you have guys’ clothes?”

you couldn’t help but giggle at his jealousy, walking towards him to wipe away his tears. “they’re my ex’s, he left them behind.”

he looks at you, eyes still a deep red from crying. “n-no! i don’t want to wear these! i don’t want to remind you of your ex…”

the frown is back on your face, and you’re quick to comfort him. “they’re the only clothes i have, i don’t want you to be uncomfortable at night. please?”

he smiles at you again, “okay!”

he rushes to the bathroom to go change, you’re a little surprised at the lack of convincing it took for him to change as well. he comes out of the bathroom, a wide smile plastered on his freshly washed face after seeing you.

you grab an extra blanket from the room, “you can sleep in the bed”

the frown reappears once again, “what? where are you going? stay with me, please?”, he pouts.

you smiled at him again, setting the blanket down and laying in your bed. surely there was enough space for the both of you, right?

he lays down next to you, instantly spooning you. you knew there was no fighting it, and instead thought about how you’d explain all this to seungmin in the morning.

“don’t tell anyone about my secret please”

“i won’t, don’t worry seungmin.”

you wake up to warm breath fanning over your lips, seungmins soft hands holding yours. it takes a moment in your sleep ridden mind to process your proximity with seungmin, only a mere centimeter away from kissing him.

it takes everything in you to pull away as far as you can, but that doesn’t stop you from admiring him. there is no scowl evident on his face, nor is there a judgemental look. he looks like he’s at peace, you think he looks much better like this.

you quickly go back to sleep, wanting to avoid the awkward moment where seungmin realizes that he’s in your bed alone. you’d like to keep him some company.

only an hour later, seungmin wakes up, slowly taking in his surroundings. you’re still asleep, cheek squished into the pillow and lips puckered right in front of him.

he sits up abruptly, a blush covering his face and ears. what happened last night? “mmm seungmin?”

his head jerks towards your figure again. so, he’s not hallucinating. you’re actually there. “what am i doing here?”

“we were at the party last night and you got super drunk. you refused to leave me alone and insisted we go home because it was too loud in there.”

he thinks for a moment, before you cut off his thoughts again. “we didn’t do anything, don’t worry.”

a sigh of relief leaves his lips, “thank you for… uh- bringing me here.”, he says sheepishly. “mhm”, you mumble. you get out of bed, getting ready for the day and unboxing the spare toothbrush you have.

you finish freshening up, “the green toothbrush is yours, its new”

a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, you don’t think you’ve ever seen sober seungmin smile at you. “thanks”.

he meets you in the kitchen not long after, and you drive him back to the dorms, meeting with jeongin before you leave.

“listen, i know that the whole thing yesterday happened but please don’t tell seungmin i know.”

“what? why not?”

“if anything, i want him to tell me… on his own terms”, you reply.

jeongin understands where you’re coming from, so he nods and decides to drop it. “thanks for bringing seungmin home”, he says with a smile.

“it’s no problem”, you smile back.

you quickly make your way down the hall and get in your car to leave. the past couple hours have finally began to process in your brain.

kim seungmin, the bane of your existence, has a cute little crush on you. how sweet.

“did you guys do anything?!”, lia asked excitedly.

“no, nothing happened. i just brought him home because he was upset about the noise”, you chuckle nervously.

“awh”, she pouts, “i was hoping for something when i saw you both leave together”

you shake your head, and continue doing her makeup.

all of a sudden, you get a call from

stray kids’ manager. “hello?”

“hey, is this y/n? we’re not quite sure why but the boys really need your help. we heard crashing but they wouldn’t let us in after the stylist rushed out. could you come over real quick?”

“i’ll be there in five”

you quickly finish up lia’s makeup and rush out the room, afraid that something bad has happened.

you knock on the door, careful not to startle any of the boys. “hello? it’s y/n”

before you can take a breath, the door swings open and you’re met with a disheveled minho. you peer behind him, locking eyes with seungmin. his hair was a mess, as well as the eyeshadow smeared across his face.

minho lets you in, locking the door behind you. you walk over to seungmin, who’s sitting in a chair in front of the mirror. the boys tend to themselves again, getting their own makeup done before leaving the room completely.

“kiss another one of your stylists?”, you joke.

you notice the upset look on his face and figure you should just shut up for now, quickly removing his eye makeup.

his eyes open again, watching as you open another pallette and grab a brush. his eyes immediately dart to the dark purple burn mark on your skin, guilt eating him away more and more.

why do you still care about him? why do you keep doing things for him when he ruined so much for you? seungmin never cries, he couldn’t let himself. not in front of you.

but the tears were inevitable, small droplets trickling down his face. you turn around, heart immediately plummeting to your stomach. “what’s wrong min?”

he quickly grabs a tissue, dabbing away the tears. “i’m sorry for um… the burn”.

you look down at your arm, the dark purple seared into your skin. “oh this? this is nothing, dont worry about it”

you approach him with the brush again, swiping away a stray tear before you dry his eyes and get back to work. you think about the time he kissed over the scar. even though he was drunk, you knew he felt guilty about it.

“im sorry i made you lose your job.”

wow. kim seungmin… apologizing? twice?

“oh it’s no big deal, i’m just with itzy now”

“no, it is a big deal. the boys all miss you now, they’re still angry with me. no stylist puts up with me anymore, you were the only one. i didn’t mean to make you lose your job, i just… didn’t want you crushing on my friends anymore”

you smile a little at him, his motive suddenly becoming clear. he kissed you because he was jealous. he didn’t want you crushing on his friends, he wanted you crushing on him.

“well, i can’t come back, that’s the managers decision, but if they let me… i will. i promise. it was a silly crush that wore off in a couple days anyways.”

you could see the faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips, but he hid it as well as he possibly could. you spoke a little more about upcoming plans, wanting to avoid the subject because it was clearly making seungmin feel guilty.

after finishing his hair and makeup, you admire the work youve done on him in only ten minutes. what you didn’t account for though, was the proximity between you two.

you’re only inches away from his face, eyes tracing every feature and outline. seungmins face flushed red, as does yours, but neither of you pull away. your faces inch closer to eachother, a nervous look on his.

“seungmin! are you two done yet?”, you hear chan yell from outside.

you quickly scramble to distance yourself, helping seungmin up from the chair, your faces still bright red. maybe you were too blinded by his attitude to admit your feelings.

you open the door to see chan, a smile on his face when he notices the blush on your cheeks. “what, did you two kiss or something?”, he teased.

“kiss her?!”, seungmin asked incredulously.

you just laughed. you didn’t need to be upset anymore. you knew it was all just an act.

“there’s really no need to punish seungmin. it happened a long time ago, and he’s already apologized to me personally.”

you’re discussing getting your job back with the managers of stray kids, finally joining back as stray kids’ stylist.

you go through the many formalities, a little upset that you have to leave itzy, but you’re glad you’re back. the girls understand of course, which you are incredibly grateful for.

“you’re back? like really?!”, jisung asks excitedly.

you nod your head, giving him a sweet smile. the boys begin to cheer, but your eyes are fixed on seungmin. his wide smile drops as soon as you look at him, and you pout.

he quickly turns towards the mirror, not wanting you to know what your pout does to him.

“whos… that”

“i’m not sure, but they seem to be very touchy”, yuna observes.

why is a random girl being so touchy with seungmin? and… why does it bother you?

the more you really comprehend your thoughts, the more you truly process to what extent you like seungmin. it’s difficult for you not to confess, to keep your feelings a secret.

you continue to stare at the girl, when ryujin finally snapped you out of it. “why do you keep staring hm? are you perhaps… jealous?”, she teased.

you look at her dead in the eye, unsure about how to respond. that’s when she realizes you’re serious. “wait… really?”

you nod lightly, finally coming to terms with your feelings now. your eyes avert their gazes, suddenly embarrassed. “well now we have to set you up!”

you jerk your head up to look at her again. “are you crazy? what if that girl is his girlfriend?”

“baby, i think you’re too focused on the girl to see the clear disgust on seungmins face right now.”, jisung chimes in.

you jump, a little startled, “jeez ji, how long have you been there?”

“long enough to hear that you have a little liking for my friend”

the girls sense the atmosphere of the conversation, quickly leaving you with jisung to talk. “sorry ji, i don’t mean to… intrude or anything.”

“oh not at all! i’m just curious about how you’re planning to confess.”

“i’m… not quite sure yet either”

jisung giggles at your nervousness, “word of advice, he likes his confessions straightforward”

you nod, smiling a little. “thanks ji”, you laugh awkwardly.

“no problem”, he replies with a smile.

you split off to find the girls again, only to be dragged away by jeongin not too long after. “when are you confessing?”, he asks abruptly.

you stare at him, shocked at how direct the question is. “soon… within this week most likely. why?”

“y/n, i shit you not, the boy is going absolutely mad in the dorms. his little crush on you has gotten like a thousand times worse since you brought him to your house that one night”

“oh jeez… okay i’ll- i’ll tell him soon, i promise”, you say with a smile.

“i’m not pressuring you of course, but god i don’t know how much longer i can stand hearing him yap about that shit”

you nod, laughing a little, “understandable”. you turn your head, almost immediately locking eyes with seungmin. it looks could kill, you’re almost certain you’d be dead right now.

your heart sinks to your stomach at the sight on him, and you quickly say goodbye to jeongin and walk off. maybe jeongin isn’t the best person to talk to about these things…

did they have to leave you with seungmin every time you’re styling them?

he averts your gaze, an angrier look on his face than usual. “seungie, what’s wrong?”

his heart flutters at the nickname, almost making him smile, but he focuses. “what’s wrong is that you keep flirting around with my friends.”

“who, jeongin?”

he nods, a little embarrassed after confronting you. “are you jealous i’m stealing your best friend from you?”

“no, i’m jealous because my best friend is stealing you from me”

seungmin quickly clamps a hand over his mouth, processing what he’s just said. “i- i didn’t-“

you stare into his eyes, urging him to go on. “fuck it”, he mutters under his breath. “y/n, i am fucking infatuated with you, you know? i…”

you grab his hand and smile at him, stroking over his knuckles gently. “i’m sorry ive been such a bitch to you recently, but you never seemed to really notice me before this. i thought that maybe if i was mean to you, it could help me hide my own feelings…”

he opens his eyes again to see you again, only centimeters away from his face this time. you inch closer towards his face, stopping right before your lips touched. “don’t push me away this time min… please.”

he closed the gap between you two in a soft kiss, smiling against him as he chased you even more. you pull away, “i like you too seungmin, a lot”

he chuckles, pulling you onto his lap, “i liked you first.”

your lips meet in a kiss again, and felix knocks on the door, opening it not to long after. “you guys okay in… oh- i’m- i’ll just-“, he stutters over his words as he rushes out the door, closing it again.

you and seungmin giggle again, and you quickly finish his makeup before bringing him outside. the boys all give you teasing looks, and you have to brush them off before you get too flustered.

on the other hand, every time it’s mentioned, seungmin has a big goofy smile on his face, one that you can’t stop yourself from admiring. he turns to you again, his eyes softening when he sees your eyes fixated on his smile.

the boys finish practice, and you meet with all of them later. there’s a frown on seungmins face, probably because he couldn’t focus at all and got all the moves wrong.

you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. “what are you doing?”

you giggle, “well, i can’t have my boyfriend being all grumpy in front of his friends can i?”

he turns around quicker than you can process, “boyfriend?”, he says with a hopeful smile. “obviously”, you chuckle.

he places quick pecks onto your lips and nose, completely forgetting that his friends are in the room with him, and if you’ll be honest, so did you.

you’re brought out of your thoughts when changbin finally speaks up.

“yoh! can you two get a room?”

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #atinyniki #skz fanfic #seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin angst #seungmin fluff #skz seungmin #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin #kim seungmin angst

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roguishcat · 4 months ago

Text

Augustarion Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard

A/N: Yes, I know what 'shirt that goes hard' means.😁 But what if the shirt literally went hard? Enjoy this little bit of whimsy courtesy of me getting no sleep for two days straight and thus having time to write. This is just for giggles and not meant to be taken seriously.

Comments, likes and reblogs always appreciated!❤️

Pairing: female reader (You) x Astarion

Day 1 - 🍓, Day 2 - 🌊, Day 4 - Mythologies, Day 6 - Cream, Day 7 - Underwear, Day 14 - Protective

You stared at it in horror. Astarion’s favourite shirt. You couldn’t believe that the thing you were holding in your hands was his favourite shirt. Or rather, something that once was his favourite shirt and now resembled a flat, stiff piece of wood.

And how did this happen? Well, it started when Astarion complained that being on the road meant not being able to deal with the annoying wrinkles and creases. And he so hated not looking well put together!

So, what did you do? Oh, just looked up a spell that, apparently, was used by the servants in the city to make sure their masters’ clothes stayed perfect at any time, even fresh after a battle or a quick romp. Or at least until the items got washed and the spell had to be reapplied.

Except something went wrong. Horribly, terribly wrong. Halfway through the spell, you sneezed violently. Which apparently affected the incantation. And instead of becoming wrinkle-free, the shirt has become as stiff as a board.

You tried everything. Getting it wet. Trying to reverse the spell. Setting it on fire. Enlisting Gale’s help. Nothing worked! The damn thing remained rigid.

You felt like crying. Oh, what were you to do? What would Astarion say? Two hundred damn years! Two hundred years he kept the shirt impeccable, mended it lovingly and meticulously. And perhaps the fabric was looking a tiny bit threadbare and worn in some places, but otherwise the state of it was near perfect.

And then your stupid ass came along and ruined it! How long did it take you to destroy it? About five minutes.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” you whispered, putting the shirt down with a dull thump.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Wyll lied with a wince.

No, it wasn’t bad. It was terrible! There was no way to sugarcoat it. Astarion would see it and immediately hate you and he would be right to do so.

“Are you sure that you can’t think of any spell that might reverse… whatever it was that I did?” you asked weakly, looking up at Gale with hope.

“Believe me, my friend, I did everything I could. I may no longer have Mystra’s favour, but my memory would not fail me. I am sorry,” he replied in a grave voice.

You knew that Gale did his best. It was you who was the idiot that started this in the first place. You did screw up rather spectacularly from time to time, which both annoyed and amused others, but this was the first time that you were quite sure that Astarion would genuinely be hurt by it.

You heard Astarion before you saw him. He and Lae’zel were out scouting earlier this afternoon and they seemed to be back with some good news.

“Dearest!” Astarion greeted you from across the camp, “You would not believe the day that I’ve had! And- oh. What’s this?”

You turned around slowly, your back ramrod straight, holding the shirt in front of you.

“Um… So, you see… Wow, this will be real difficult to explain,” you clutched the damn thing so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

“Darling, what is this that you are holding in your hands?” Astarion took a step towards you, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Um… I tried a thing and- and this happened.”

“What exactly happened? And what is this?” he motioned to whatever it was that you were holding, realizing that the item in your hands looked vaguely familiar.

“It’s your shirt,” you mumbled in a small voice. “I tried a spell and something went wrong and here we are.”

Astarion took the shirt from your hands with an unreadable expression, fingers clutching at the harder-than-stone fabric.

“I am so sorry!’ you wailed, “I shouldn’t have done it! I wanted to surprise you-”

“You certainly did,” he said, turning the shirt sideways with a frown.

“I mean, you always complained about the fabric creasing and not being able to do anything about it. And I thought I had the solution and- I tried a spell.”

“Well, it will certainly not crease now,” he said, rapping his knuckles against the surface. “Excuse me,” Astarion turned around and made for his tent without another word.

This was a disaster. He hated you. The one reminder of his life before he was turned, the one thing that Cazador did not take from him, the one item that stayed with him and you ruined it.

The only thing that kept you from bawling like a toddler was the need to keep up appearances. Because you were still supposed to be the leader of a formidable group of heroes defending the city from the ultimate evil and- oh hells! You could feel the tears coming and took a deep breath to calm down. And then another, until you felt that you got your errant emotions under control. It seemed to work well enough, although you were now acutely aware that the others were watching the scene with barely concealed interest. One of the downsides of travelling with a group of friends. You could never have a slither of privacy. You were already embarrassed about your screw up, and having so many witnesses really did nothing to improve your foul mood.

You knew you probably should be giving Astarion space right now, but you just couldn’t. So, you squared your shoulders and went after your vampire. Though you were not entirely sure if he would want to be yours after this incident.

“Astarion?” you pulled the tent flap aside a little, “Can I come in?”

“I will not stop you if you do, if that is what you mean,” he said without looking in your direction.

Okay, ouch. But you deserved much worse right now. So silently, you came in and sat on a cushion.

Astarion was looking at his shirt, his face void of any emotion. He didn’t seem to be looking at the disaster of a gift, but rather through it. Lost in thought.

Five minutes passed, then five more. You tried not to fidget, but the silent treatment was making you nervous. Astarion still did not give you any attention and it didn’t seem that he would be in the mood to do so any time soon. So, you decided to speak up. Because sitting like this and waiting for him to say something was torture.

“I-,” you began weakly and cleared your throat, “I will just take my things and won’t disturb you anymore.”

“I’m sorry?” he blinked, finally turning towards you.

“Or, perhaps I could come back for them some other time.”

“Darling, why would you take your things at all?” Astarion cocked his head to a side, not sure where you were going with this.

“Because I ruined your shirt.”

“And you are afraid that I might retaliate and ruin your clothes, is that it?”

He noticed your hunched shoulders and dejected look and realised that you may have misinterpreted his silence.

“Or is it something even more ridiculous, such as you getting it into your lovely head that I might break up with you over something so trivial?” Astarion leaned closer to you, brushing an errant lock aside to get a better look at your face.

Okay, ouch again. But you supposed that you deserved that too.

“You sweet fool,” he sighed, pulling you down to sit in his lap, “you saved me countless times. Saved me from Cazador, from myself. What is a shirt in a grand scale of things?”

You felt him put his arms around you and finally relaxed into his touch, enjoying the way he ran his fingers through your hair.

“I mean, I understand why you are upset. I did look amazing in it. But then again, I’d look amazing in anything," he went on. "Besides, I am sure that we can pick out something gorgeous when we get to the city. And for now, you will just have to try and resist me in my half-naked glory,” Astarion flicked his curls back and gave you a sultry look.

“I can’t resist you even when you are fully dressed,” you played along, reaching for his ear with your lips and placing a tender, lingering kiss to the tip, making him purr.

“Well, then we have no choice but to take an evening to ourselves, don’t we?” Astarion conceded playfully, submitting to your searching hands as you fumbled for the ties of his armour.

The next day Lae’zel and Karlach tested out Astarion’s shirt in action and found that it made quite a formidable weapon. When thrown, it sliced through opponents like a knife through butter. When used to strike, the bludgeoning damage was off the charts! It was fireproof, waterproof, gave the holder the ability to ignore many offensive spells and was near indestructible!

Gale begged you to remember which syllable you sneezed on so he could try to replicate the spell and try to make another weapon of the type. But no matter what you did, the spell did exactly as advertised. Got clothes to stay wrinkle-free.

“It appears that this shirt is truly one-of-a-kind,” Wyll laughed, balancing it on the palm of his hand. “Weighs so little too!”

“Well, everything about me is extraordinary. Makes perfect sense for my shirt to have unique properties too,” Astarion looked at it in a way that a proud parent would regard an overachieving child. “Shame that you didn’t cast that spell earlier, darling. I would have quite enjoying smashing Cazador’s head in with it. Would have been ironic that he beat being perfect into me, only for me to come back and beat him perfectly with the shirt.”

“Still plenty of bad guys out there, Fangs! I might just borrow this from you to teach Gortash a lesson,” Karlach cracked her knuckles.

“You would have to fight Lae’zel for it first, I’m afraid,” you lifted your shield as you got ready to move out. “She said that such a formidable weapon can only be wielded by the most experienced warrior.”

“I’m experienced enough!”

“Chk! By the standards of this realm, you fight well. But only the githyanki are taught to be experts with any weapon. I will be the one to carry it,” she insisted, ignoring the protests of others. As far as Lae’zel was concerned, the matter was settled.

And so your ragtag group set off on yet another adventure feeling that the odds were decisively in your favour as of late. You and Astarion walked side by side, hands brushing as you listened to Karlach and Lae’zel bicker. Seeing as the others were preoccupied, Astarion snaked his arm round your middle and pulled you flush against him.

“Do warn me next time you want to experiment, my dear. You claim this to be an accident, but I suspect you have an ulterior motive. One might even say that it is your subconsciousness guiding your hand when it comes to destroying my clothes.”

Astarion’s smile widened as you flushed a beautiful shade of red, claiming your lips in a way that communicated quite clearly that he was down for whatever else your delightful brain would come up with.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #fanfic #astarion fanfiction #fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction #astarion x reader #augustarion #roguish cat

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adverbally · 3 months ago

Text

You Could Try to Get Closer to Me

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Skull Rock” | wc: 1,935 | rated: E | cw: use of the f-slur, sexual content | tags: overheard sex (unintentional), fantasizing, masturbation, oral sex (woman receiving), steve/OC with a side of eddie pining, set pre-series | title from “Hysteria” by Def Leppard

———

Eddie has been sitting alone in the woods for 45 minutes. Enough time for the sun to set, for the fall chill to settle into his legs through his jeans. The rock he’s perched on is cold beneath him. He pulls his jacket around himself more tightly, like it’s going to do anything for him now that he’s already freezing.

He checks his watch. 46 minutes, now. He’s never doing business with Hagan again. (He wouldn’t have done it now, except Wayne’s truck is making a funny noise and they’re going to need the extra cash if they want to make rent this month.) An hour, he decides, is a more than reasonable amount of time to wait for some dickhead jock to come get his shitty weed.

48 minutes. Jesus. He’s about to start doing laps, not just to warm up but to have something to do. The dark woods surrounding Skull Rock don’t offer much in the way of entertainment and Eddie is just about climbing the metaphorical walls. Ooh, maybe he should try climbing a tree, he hasn’t done that in years–

He hears the crunch of dead leaves as someone walks in his direction. It’s about damn time Hagan showed up.

“How did you even find this place?”

Eddie’s heart sinks at hearing the feminine voice tittering through the trees. Not Hagan, then.

“I can’t give away my secrets that easily.” The reply is flirty and light, the voice vaguely familiar. “I probably shouldn’t have even brought you out here.”

The girl laughs. “C’mon, Steve, I won’t tell. Promise.”

Jesus, not Harrington. There’s no telling how the King of Hawkins High will react to finding Eddie out here, alone in the woods with nobody around for miles. Sounds like a good way to get the shit kicked out of him.

“Well, I guess if you promise…”

The footsteps slow to a stop several yards away, followed by the sound of wet kisses and sighs. Okay, this is Eddie’s chance to get out of here. He turns to the other side of the rock and slides down as slowly as he can, hoping the drag of denim on stone and the crunch of leaves beneath his Reeboks can’t be heard from this distance. All he has to do is hide and wait for Harrington and his date to leave, then hurry back to his van and skedaddle.

“It’s just over here,” Harrington is saying, his voice getting closer. Eddie can imagine him holding the girl’s hand, helping her navigate fallen logs and step over puddles like a real gentleman. Of course, an all-American boy like Steve Harrington would treat a girl well. It’s just the freaks and the fags he’s a dick to.

“Oh, wow, it does look like a skull!” the girl exclaims when the rock comes into their line of sight. Now that she’s closer, Eddie thinks it might be Susan Strong from his algebra class. She has the same kind of high, sing-songy voice. Hopefully he won’t have to hear much more of her inane commentary before they go on their way.

“The real attraction is right over here,” Harrington announces. Why does he sound like he’s bragging? It’s not like he fucking invented rocks.

Unfortunately, the footsteps tromping through the leaves sound like they’re heading in Eddie’s direction and getting closer by the second. He’s about to make a run for it and hope for the best when the walking stops.

“What’s so great about it?” Thankfully, Susan’s voice comes from several feet to Eddie’s left. He’s still safely hidden behind one of the bigger boulders.

“I’m so glad you asked. May I-?”

Eddie can’t see what Harrington silently asked permission to do, but then Susan is squealing in surprise and giggling.

“As you can see,” Harrington explains, “it’s the perfect height for you to sit on.” He lowers his voice. “So I can kiss you for hours and you won’t get tired.”

Fuck. They’re not leaving any time soon, and now Eddie can’t leave without getting caught and having to explain why he hadn’t left sooner. He’s trapped here, listening to their tonsil hockey game until they’ve had enough.

For several minutes (he’s been out here for a solid hour now), he listens to the slick slide of their mouths together, the breaths they huff through their noses, the little pleased sounds they probably don’t even know they’re making. He can picture the way Harrington’s hair must be drooping into his face, his hands firm on Susan’s hips as he guides the rhythm of their kisses.

It’s gotta be good, Eddie observes distantly. He’s seen Harrington’s lips before, the way they can get so pink you don’t notice any other part of his face. It’s almost a shame, ignoring the rest of it: the strong brow, sweet eyes, charming freckles, perfectly sculpted nose–

Hmm. Eddie knows he hasn’t consciously made those kinds of observations. That means they’re all subconscious. Has he actually spent the past four years of living in Hawkins just… secretly gawking over how gorgeous Steve Harrington is? Apparently. It was so secret, he couldn’t even make himself aware of it.

“Oh, Steve.” Susan’s cry is soft and breathy, like whatever Steve’s doing to her is so good it’s leaving her weak.

What is he doing? Eddie’s ears strain for a clue in the loud silence of the woods. Harrington’s mouth is still making wet sounds, even as Susan keeps moaning and babbling softly. Maybe he’s leaving love bites all down her neck, sucking hard at each spot, lapping at it with kitten licks to soothe the abused skin. Eddie’s throat aches sympathetically. (Definitely just his throat, not any other, more southerly parts.)

“Oh my god,” Susan sighs dreamily.

“Yeah, is that good?” It comes out muffled, like Steve can’t bear to pull his mouth away from her skin.

Her answering gasp is shuddery, more shuddery than Eddie would expect from just some necking. What if Steve’s working a hand under her skirt, teasing her through her underwear? What if he’s pulling the fabric aside and slipping a finger inside her? What if the wet sounds aren’t just from Steve’s mouth but her pussy, soft and hot and yielding to Steve without question?

Eddie can no longer deny his arousal as his cock strains against the confines of his tightest jeans. Fuck, he feels like a dirty pervert overhearing to them, even if he hadn’t intended to. He’s still listening and thinking about Steve’s mouth on his neck, Steve’s fingers opening him up. He doesn’t dare pull his dick out for fear of frostbite or indecent exposure charges, but he begins to slowly rub himself through his pants.

“Look at you,” Steve murmurs, so quiet Eddie can barely hear him. “So goddamn pretty.”

Susan’s shaky groan is quiet. Is Steve kissing her again? Did she cover her mouth with her hands, trying to keep quiet since they’re technically in public? If Eddie were in her shoes, he would hope for Steve’s free hand working two fingers into his mouth for him to suck on.

Whatever Steve says next is too soft for Eddie to understand, but Susan whines and begs, “Please, Steve, I want it.”

The rustle of leaves picks up again, and Eddie nearly moans at the mental image of Steve Harrington sinking to his knees in the dirt to use his mouth. Eddie’s pressing down on his cock so hard that he’s worried the zipper will leave an imprint in the sensitive skin. Then he hears the sound of fabric slipping against skin, followed by a quiet Eddie can practically feel.

He shuts his eyes, envisioning Steve teasing his warm breath over sensitive skin before taking the first long, slow licks. Steve must be going at an agonizing pace to be making so little noise. His mouth would be so soft that Susan can barely feel it as he ventures higher, until he lays a kiss over her clit and her hips jolt with a gasp. When he does it again, he introduces his tongue and Susan’s cry echoes through the trees.

Eddie thinks he can hear it now, the smack of wet mouth against wet cunt as Steve ramps up the intensity. Firmer, faster, maybe even fucking her with his fingers while he sucks on her clit. Eddie matches that imagined pace, grinding the heel of his hand over his cockhead. Even through cotton and denim, he can feel himself leaking. He hasn’t even seen anything, how pathetic is that?

“Ohhhh, Steve.” Susan hardly has the breath to speak. Does she have her hands in Steve’s hair, mussing him up as she tugs him closer? Is she grinding back against his face, letting his tongue delve inside her and his perfectly pointed nose nudge her closer and closer to her peak? “Steve, I– I’m so–”

“There you go, honey, come for me,” he tells her, low and urgent. He must be rushing to get his mouth back on her to push her over the edge.

It only takes a couple seconds of picturing Steve on his knees in front of him, begging him to come, before Eddie’s dick twitches hard and he makes a mess in his underwear. Thank god he has the presence of mind to bite down on the meat of his thumb to stifle any sound. He’s still a sticky disaster, but hopefully he won’t be a sticky disaster who draws attention to himself and has to explain to Chief Hopper why he came in his pants on public land.

By the time Eddie’s ears stop ringing, Susan is breathing heavily after her own orgasm and Steve, based on the crinkle of leaves, is rising to his feet.

“Ew, Steve, cut it out. I’m not kissing you again until you wash your face!” Susan shrieks playfully.

“Mmm, I never want to wash it. You taste so good.” While Steve is clearly joking, Eddie can’t help but think he was at least a little sincere about it. He can’t imagine any other basketball player going down on a girl outside in the cold unless they really enjoyed it.

“Maybe I can offer you a different kind of kiss.”

Eddie practically hears the suggestive eyebrow raise that accompanies Susan’s words. He refuses to be jealous of a girl just because she might get to suck Steve’s dick.

“That’s very kind of you, but, uh, it’s already taken care of.” He’s apologetic, almost bashful, but Eddie immediately recognizes it as a lie. It's the kind of excuse a boy could give a girl to avoid her touch, focusing on her pleasure so he doesn’t have to reciprocate the show of vulnerability.

Is he going to owe Harrington an apology after this? He might be more complicated than Eddie gave him credit for.

Susan is complaining about being cold, and it sounds like Steve wraps her in his letterman as they start the trek back to his car. It’s all very cute, very teenage romance, their sappy voices and giddy laughter resounding through the area.

Eddie looks at his watch again. An hour and twenty-five minutes, all for Hagan to stand him up. At least he was entertained for the past half hour.

He’s going to have a lot to think about later, like when he started liking Steve and why he finds him attractive and how to get that talented mouth on his body, anywhere Steve chooses.

That’s the idea that keeps him warm as he trudges back to his van. He’s in for a long, hot shower once he gets home.

#steddieangstyaugust #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mine #oof I worked on this all day and I’m still not thrilled with it but I’m just gonna throw it out there

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osarina · 3 months ago

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to the anon - i’m putting it under the cut because i’m not bringing discourse to my dash again. you are right in that you’re getting blocked, but i'm afraid that's where it ends!

i don't know WHERE you get the inclination that you think i think i'm being "cool" by my previous message, i'm sure that you think you're cool coming on anon to act like the selfship police, but i'll entertain your shitty asks one last time. i did not LIE about anything you said, that's a bold and absurd accusation.

i fear that is common sense. if someone does not have their exact age on their account and gives a vague range instead, you're a crossing a boundary by pressing for that exact age range to call them "weird". don't play stupid, it's not "mature" of you.

but quite frankly i don't CARE what you find weird! i am not aging myself back to being 18 again in my fics, i'm portraying the two of us at the stage in our selfship when we would have both been 18. when people write childhood friends to lovers, and the scene includes them being 12, they are not "regressing themselves" to be 12 again to selfship with a 12 year old version of a character. they are creating plot and substance to that point in a timeline and that's NORMAL. that's how writing works. i can write the 18 year old versions of me and dazai from the past in my fics to portray that portion of the story while still being in the 20s! i like substance and background to my selfships.

what about this is NOT judgmental? you come into my ask box judging me for having a selfship with dazai and pressing me about my age while calling it "weird" (that's a quote!) there is no twisted narrative here, you're acting like the selfship police. more than that, you're prioritizing the feelings of someone that does not exist over the feelings of a real life person. comparing someone in their early twenties to finding comfort with a character that is LITERALLY THEIR AGE is fucking absurd. dazai is 22 currently, he was 18 once. i am in my early twenties currently, i was 18 once. ???? i'm going through the timeline of what our relationship would've been like. comparing this to someone who is 50 selfshipping with a 14 year old is INSANE. that is a FOUR decade difference, not a few years. be fucking real right now, i actually can't believe someone typed this out and thought "wow this will totally get her!!"

again - your "simple question", if you put a little thought behind it, crosses boundaries. don't YOU lie. you can play innocent all you want but we all know that if someone doesn't have something explicitly stated - ESPECIALLY when they have an alternative there - it is CROSSING BOUNDARIES to press and ask for it. you can play innocent and stupid, but it's not going to work here, sorry. i'm not going to let you come onto MY blog and disrespect me.

... let me understand this .... dazai left in the spring .... his birthday is in the summer .... dazai is eighteen when he leaves the mafia .... meaning his birthday in the summer passed (and thus spring as well), so he left the next spring ... which means he's been 18 for nearly a whole year ............ regardless of the fact that you just disproved your own point, you sent no source and i'm afraid i'm not going to just take your word because i cannot find ANYTHING on this topic online.

on this topic, i never claimed to be the end all knowledge of dazai, i am not asagiri, i don't know everything and i dont claim to. but continue to get your snide comments in, i hope it makes you happier.

i allow simple questions when they are not rude and disrespectful. furthermore, i am NOT a content creator. i am a person who enjoys writing and enjoys sharing it. this is my personal blog, i don't make money from this. i will repeat - i am NOT a content creator, i don't like that term and the implications/expectations that come along with that. and this ask is precisely why.

this is the end of this discussion. there is one immature person here and it is YOU. you can act innocent and play stupid, but everyone knows that wasn't meant to be a simple question, and your response is even more showing of that. you're not going to come onto my blog - MY safe space - and disrespect me. the moment you ended that ask with "it's weird" it becomes rude and judgmental. if it was meant to be a simple question, you would have cut commentary altogether.

comparing someone who is in their early twenties selfshipping with a character who is ALSO in their early twenties to someone who is 50 selfshipping with someone who is 14 is actually insanity. i will always add substance and backstory to my selfships, just like i do with my fics. if you don't like that, kindly stay off my blog.

and claiming that i'm immature when you're throwing a fit in my inbox over someone selfshipping with a fictional character is more telling of you than me.

i will reiterate one last time that i am not a content creator nor do i want to be treated like one. this is my personal blog that i write fanfiction on. i don't get paid, i don't get sponsorships, brand deals or anything. i write fanfiction for myself and i share for those who might be interested. i'm not going to sit here and be told i'm "bad" at something that i'm not because you have a preconceived idea of how i "should" be acting because you presume i'm something that i'm not. it says right on my nav that this is a personal blog.

you're blocked, this conversation is over. i hope you reflect and realize why you were wrong here and you don't put another writer on here through the same thing.

i hope you have a good life and heal. peace and love.

#tw discourse

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kayawolfhorse · 6 months ago

Text

Anywhere You Go | Read on Ao3

My piece for the @boatemvillagezine! The zine turned out spectacular, be sure to give it a read <3

—☾—

The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the air is fresh in Pearl’s lungs as she slides open the van door and steps out into the small parking lot, gravel crunching beneath her boots. Turning around, she offers a hand to Mumbo, who still looks queasy from the bout of carsickness that’d struck him earlier on the road.

“Grian is trying to kill me personally, I think,” Mumbo mutters, holding Pearl’s arm for stability.

“If I wanted you dead, I would’ve been rid of you by now,” Grian comes around the front of the van saying, offering Mumbo a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Mumbo harrumphs, “You took that last turn faster than you had to and you know it. Why did we let you drive, anyway?”

“I’m a perfectly adequate driver, I’ll have you know! In my defense, I did not see that bend coming up—”

Scar climbs out of the backseat next, adjusting the tiny version of his scarlet top hat he’d insisted on bringing along, though his Swaggon attire had been swapped out for a more practical shirt and shorts combo of the same color scheme. Pearl admires the dedication to the theme, really.

Hooking an arm around Grian’s shoulders, Scar says, “Now, now, gentleman! Let the worries of our travels fall away as you admire the magnificent view all around us.”

Still sitting in the passenger seat, maps spilling out upon the dashboard in front of him, Impulse snorts, “You make it sound like you’re trying to sell them the forest, Scar.”

“Well, you know what they say, there’s profit to be had everywhere you look!” Scar hums, getting that all-too-familiar gleam in his eye.

“As your CEO, I appreciate the mindset, but you can’t sell us public land,” Mumbo points out with a laugh, straightening up looking significantly less ill. Scar shrugs, a cheeky smile on his face.

Adjusting the bandanna she’d tied around her braided hair, Pearl bounces on her feet. “Profits aside, we’re finally here! Let’s get going already!”

Earlier in the week, Impulse had proposed an overnight hiking trip, following a trail through the scenic foothills of the closest real mountain range, ending the day out by camping around the lake found in one of the higher-up valleys, to give the Boatem crew a break from building. The idea was met with enthusiasm, and just a couple days later, Pearl found herself crammed between Scar and everyone’s luggage in the backseat of Mumbo’s van as Grian drove and Impulse directed, Mumbo clutching the front of his pineapple-patterned shirt next to Scar for dear life.

After hours being stuck in the same uncomfortable position, Pearl’s more than ready to start up the trail. The others are quick to agree, and after packs are assembled, shoelaces are tied, and the van is locked, they’re off.

The woods feel like an entirely different world than the lot they parked in. Tall, thin trees with fluffy foliage form a lush canopy high above Pearl’s head, and between the trunks the ground is alive with brush, pocket-marked with fallen logs and framed by the soft brown pine needles of the forest floor. Lichen creeps up the boulders scattered throughout, and steep rock faces contrast beautifully with the greens of the plant life.

Mumbo’s the first to break the hush that had fallen over the group. “Wow,” he breathes, “just, wow.”

Impulse nudges Mumbo and points to a tree with a thicker trunk and hole in the center that, paired with the bits of bark surrounding it, almost resembles a mouth of sharp teeth. “Hey, look, it’s Treesa!”

Following his gaze, Mumbo laughs. “I see it! Could be Treesa’s cousin, maybe—it doesn’t quite have her eyes.”

“I knew it was going to be pretty, but I didn’t expect it to be this amazing! Would you just look at the shape of those trees!” Scar walks in front of the group and waves vaguely to the left, grinning.

“Uh, Scar, we’re surrounded by trees,” Grian teases in a deadpan.

“And they’re all beautiful,” Scar agrees, stretching out the syllables of “beautiful” with a studious nod.

“Oh, I completely get you. Look at this terrain! I’m getting so much inspiration for my mountain already.” Pearl wishes she’d brought her sketchbook with her. Such beautiful shapes! She’s determined to commit everything to memory to recount on paper later.

Scar and Pearl fall into step together as they walk, the path beneath their feet nothing more than a line of dirt trodden enough to be distinguishable from the undergrowth, laughter from Grian, Mumbo, and Impulse echoing all around them. Sunlight filters through the trees, dappling against the gorgeous landscape, and the conversation between Pearl and Scar is nothing short of gushing about every detail.

—☾—

The first three forks in the trail are marked with signs, and it’s easy to follow the arrow pointing towards the lake. The forth fork’s signpost, however, must’ve succumbed to the elements at some point, and now lays half buried in the mud puddle gathered on the side of the path.

“I can’t make out what any of it says, can anyone else?” Grian squints at the muddied sign, whose lettering has weathered away almost completely. After a chorus of no’s in response, he asks, “Impulse, would you be able to find the route on the map?”

“I sure can!” Impulse sticks a hand in his shorts pocket, only to frown. Checking the other pockets, his expression grows more worried, until he pulls off his backpack to root around its compartments. “I must have it here somewhere.”

Remembering the stack of maps piled on the dashboard of the van, Pearl sucks in a breath through her teeth and asks, “Did you actually grab it from the car? Before we left?”

Freezing mid-action, Impulse’s eyes go wide. “Now that you mention it… no, I didn’t. Do we go back for it?”

Grian shakes his head. “We’ve already been hiking for hours. If we go back now we’ll be trying to find the campsite in the dark. Should we just… follow the path and hope for the best?”

“It’s a terrible idea, but it might be our best option, and if that doesn’t sum up our group as a whole, I don’t know what does,” Mumbo agrees.

“Then it’s settled! Onwards!” Scar marches forward, before seemingly remembering that they haven’t decided which route to take. “Actually, which way are we going?”

Impulse points to the right, where the slope they stand on continues uphill. “The lake’s in a higher valley, it’d make sense to keep going up until we find it, right?”

With a shrug, Grian says, “Seems like a reasonable plan to me.”

From there, of course, it doesn’t take very long for things to go wrong.

Right over the crest of the hill they’ve been hiking over is a pool of sticky, deceptively shallow-looking mud that spans too far on either side to be avoided without getting tangled in dense vegetation. In their attempt to cross, Scar missteps and ends up in mud up to his ankle, his boot completely trapped underneath. Mumbo and Impulse manage to free Scar, but his shoe is lost forever, and the spare pair Impulse loans out to Scar is a size too tight.

On the other side of the puddle, the trail is notably not nearly as worn down as the rest of it has been so far, and after a while it fades entirely, leaving the group stranded.

“I can’t see anything!” Mumbo throws his hands up in defeat. “Isn’t a lake supposed to be big? Surely it should’ve been visible by this point?”

The part of the forest they’ve found themselves in is densely wooded, the trees close enough together that it’s near-impossible to see anything beyond the small clearing they’ve stopped to rest in. Paired with the slowly setting sun, Pearl’s suddenly struck by the feeling that she does not want to be here past dark, thank you very much.

Shrugging her pack from her shoulders, Pearl suggests, “I could climb a tree? See if I could spot anything from up there?”

The idea is met with mixed responses. “It’s definitely illegal, and stupid, and dangerous,” Impulse starts, “but… it would be good to reach a higher vantage point.”

“Oh, super illegal,” Grian agrees. “I’ll go with you, Pearl. We’ll make sure not to litter or destroy the tree. I’m sure the forest will understand.”

After leaving their bags with the rest of the group, Pearl and Grian set off to find a good climbing tree. The forest is predominantly made up of tall trees with narrow trunks, with their shorter, bushier counterparts dotted in between—nothing ideal for climbing.

“Oh, this one is pretty good!” Pearl says, as they come across a tree suitably large, with branches low enough down to act as footholds.

“Sure is,” Grian says, bending down to tie his shoe. As he straightens up, he tosses Pearl a grin. “Race you to the top!”

“Oi!” Pearl exclaims, grabbing at the first branch and hoisting herself up. The limb creaks, but holds fast, and Pearl reaches for the next. Partway up the tree, Pearl and Grian are neck and neck, and Grian sticks his tongue out at Pearl around the trunk, Pearl wrinkling her nose in response.

In the highest boughs that’ll support her weight, Pearl gives a whoop of victory, holding her hand out to Grian to help him up the last bit of the way. There’s no real place to sit, so instead Pearl takes to crouching on her branch with an arm around the trunk, Grian standing, holding a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun.

“See anything?” Grian asks, after a quiet moment of taking in the view.

Scanning the land around them, Pearl sighs. “No. It is quite lovely from up here, though.”

From so high up, the mountains are visible through blue-tinged fog, ringing the horizon like a crown. Rolling hills stretch out as far as the eye can see, and Pearl can just make out the rocks that break up the woods below. The cool spring breeze rustles the treetops around them as it does the loose hair around Pearl’s face, and when she inhales, Pearl’s surrounded by the scent of sweet, refreshing pine.

“Well, this was a bust, then.” Grian lowers himself, readying for the climb back down.

Carefully shifting her grip to join him, Pearl takes one final sweeping glance, when something shiny catches her eye. Turning fully towards it, she gasps, “Wait! Grian! I see the lake!”

“You do?”

“Yeah! Over there!” Pearl points to where the last remnants of the sunset sparkle over the water of the lake, mostly obscured by trees and uphill to their current position. “It’s not too far! We’ve been running parallel to it, looks like.”

Grian laughs, full of incredulous relief. “Sounds about right for us. Let’s grab the gang and get going!”

Feeling rejuvenated in their discovery, Pearl and Grian sprint to where the others are waiting in a small clearing, seemingly focused on the ground at their feet.

“Please do not destroy my shoes,” Impulse is saying as Pearl and Grian come into earshot. Scar, wearing said shoes, pouts in response, and Mumbo looks to be weighing the merits of the option.

“We found the lake!” Grian shouts in excitement. “It’s just beyond that hill over there!”

The trio looks up from the shoe debacle in almost perfect sync, which Pearl can’t help but snicker at. “You did? We’ve been this close the whole time?” Mumbo passes a hand over his hair. “I thought we’d have to camp out right here!”

“Don’t be dramatic, my good sir, have some faith in us! We would’ve been fine,” Scar assures. “Though, having an exact location streamlines the process, I will admit.”

“You were just planning to cut Impulse’s trainers into sandals!” Mumbo retorts. “You have no standing to be calling me dramatic.”

“My toes are all cramped! I see where Impulse is coming from, unreasonable as it is, but it would’ve been worth—”

“Fellas!” Grian interrupts. “We can keep arguing about shoes all you want later, but for now it’s getting dark and we still have a couple hundred blocks to go. Let’s get a move on.”

“Fair point,” Mumbo concedes, holding a hand out to help Scar to his feet. After Scar’s up, they’re moving, anxious to get to the campsite.

The woods beyond the clearing are far darker than Pearl expected them to be, and the torches are broken out almost immediately. The birdsong that had accompanied the daylight is quiet, save for a few stray chirps here and there. Even amidst the shadow, while surrounded by the glow of the torchlight and soft chatter of her friends, tired from a long day of hiking, Pearl feels safe.

Nighttime has settled over the land entirely once they reach the lake. Stumbling through thick brush, Pearl breaks through to the water’s edge—only to find herself looking at the campsite, tiny from so far away, on the other side of the lake.

“…Well, at least we found the lake?” Impulse winces.

Mumbo sighs, picking loose a few thorns stuck in his shorts. “There’s no way we can walk all the way around, is there?”

“We could take boats across?” Scar suggests.

“That’s a great idea, actually! I packed a few extra, just in case.” Pearl pulls the boats’ compacted versions from her backpack, setting three down in the water and watching them grow to full size.

“You’re a lifesaver, Pearl,” Grian thanks, climbing into one of the boats. Scar settles in behind him, and Mumbo and Impulse get into the next one together, leaving Pearl with her own.

Grian’s boat leads the way, and as Pearl rows behind it, she catches sight of the stars, reflected against the water, disrupted by the ripple of her oars. Slowing to a stop, Pearl lets her boat drift as she looks up to admire the scene, filled with more galaxies than she could count, the moon hung high above. Stars all around her, in the water and night sky, Pearl feels like she’s floating through the void beneath the Boatem hole, untouched by the chaos of the world above.

Apparently noticing Pearl’s inaction, Impulse’s rowing peters out, and she waves to let him know she’s alright. After a moment, Mumbo calls out for Grian and Scar to stop, and the soft lapping of the water against Pearl’s boat and rustles from the surrounding forest are the only noises to break the silence as they all take in the view.

They soon start for the site once more, docking against the sandy bank. Five tents are arranged in a semicircle around a campfire, and dinner is shared over it. S’mores are an irreplaceable classic to any good camping trip, and after a proper mess of sticky marshmallow and gooey chocolate is made, Pearl bids her goodnight, and heads for her tent, exhausted in the best way.

In the morning, the hike back is easier than the one the day earlier, and they make it back to the van in the early afternoon. The drive back home is filled with blasted music and recounts of their adventures, and towards the end of it, Pearl isn’t the only person to catch a quick nap on the final stretch of road.

Returning to Boatem, Pearl sets down her bag and immediately goes for her sketchbook, stored by her bed in her little starter boat. She has so many ideas for her megabase.

(Reblogs do more than likes!)

#hermitcraft #pearlescentmoon #grian #mumbo jumbo #goodtimeswithscar #impulsesv #boatem #boatem village zine #hermitfic #my writing #zines #YEAHHH BOATEM ZINE #i adore everything about how this project came out

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