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gimmethatagustd · 5 months

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delicate | pjm

After months of not talking to each other, Taehyung thinks he can charm his way into your life again. Thankfully, Jimin is there to help you work through your feelings.

○ Pairing: Jimin x f!reader (from Only Here To Sin)

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Established relationship, fluff, smut, pwp

○ Word Count: 3,987

○ Warnings: It's pretty much just porn, OHTS Taehyung strikes again!! he's annoying!!, mentions past sex with Taehyung, references toxic past relationships, consensual sex while under the influence of alcohol (just tipsy), using a tie as a blindfold, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, it's their first time together 🥹, I definitely didn't edit this (as usual, we post when we're done and we never look back)

○ Notes: This can be read as a standalone oneshot, but I recommend reading OHTS to get the full backstory~ and also because it's a disaster of a series, so it's kind of like watching a trainwreck. Don't judge me too much; I had no idea what I was doing when I wrote it. I still have no idea what I'm doing!

○ Post Date: December 16, 2023

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? Like Crazy - Jimin

You knew going out with Jackie was a mistake. Even more of a mistake was your agreement to go to this nightclub.

“Are you cold?”

Jimin’s arms snake around your waist and draw you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. The light, minty scent of his toothpaste mixes with the floral notes of his cologne. Rather than overwhelm you, the smell grounds you and brings you into the present.

“I’m okay,” you mumble.

Jimin hums. You feel the sound vibrate from his throat against your shoulder and the side of your neck. He’s not convinced, and you know he isn’t.

“Want to go find your friends? I’ll order us drinks.”

You nod and reluctantly detach yourself from Jimin’s embrace. The poor bartender has far too many people crowding the counter. Jimin will have to wait a while; he’s too polite to cut in front of other customers.

The club isn’t big, but it’s packed. You feel like you’re clawing through the bodies swaying to the music with your head on a swivel to find your friends in the crowd. The last time you were at this club, you’d ended up in the bathroom with Taehyung’s fingers shoved inside you.

No. You are not going to think about that.

It has been five months. Five months of detoxing, of neatly packing away the hurt and confusion that Taehyung caused you and storing it in the attic of your mind. You’re a different person now. The person Taehyung manipulated and strung along was no more. And the most important part is that you’ve forgiven the person you used to be. It was too easy to be angry at yourself for your mistakes.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous about returning home for summer break. The memories and emotions triggered the moment you pulled into your parents’ driveway were enough to make you feel like throwing up. You’re lucky Jimin got time off from his music apprenticeship in California to visit you, or you may not survive the summer.

Dreary thoughts aside, you’re beginning to feel frustrated with your inability to find Jackie when you feel a warm hand slide into your palm and long fingers intertwine with yours.

“Hey, jagi.”

Despite the loud thrum of music, that smooth voice pierces through you sharply and clearly.

Taehyung’s cheeks shimmer pink with intoxication beneath his honey-toned skin. His hair is longer than when you last saw him. It falls into his eyes, obscuring them in a way that makes his already mystifying gaze all the more intimidating. They nearly glow in the pulsing club lights, sparkling with amusement.

“Miss me?” Taehyung tongues his cheek as his eyes take apart every inch of your body. “You look really good.”

How your stomach flutters with butterflies you’d thought were long gone makes you feel sick. You quickly rip your hand from Taehyung’s. You’d missed him, in the beginning, a little bit, but being with him had hurt you more than leaving him. It took making new friends to realize you’d missed companionship, not Taehyung. Now, you have far healthier friendships.

You can practically hear Alexis’s voice in your head, nagging you about toxic men like Taehyung.

“The worst thing a man can be is aware that he’s hot,” Alexis lectured you the first time you opened up to her about Taehyung. She wasn’t wrong.

“No, I did not.” The steadiness of your voice surprises you, though it shouldn’t. You’ve put in a lot of work to process your fucked up relationship with Taehyung. You can do this.

The smug look on Taehyung’s face doesn’t disappear, but that doesn’t surprise you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in town, jagi?”

“Why do you even think I would tell you?”

Before you can demand that Taehyung stop calling you by the inappropriate term of endearment, you feel lips brush against your temple.

“I gave up,” Jimin admits with an apologetic smile and empty hands. His eyes take in your crossed arms and rigid stance when you don't speak. With a frown, he follows your gaze to notice Taehyung finally. “Oh, sorry, hi. I’m Jimin, her boyfriend.”

You try to be kind, but you want to punch the smug look off of Taehyung’s face when he offers his hand to Jimin.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi. I’m Taehyung,” he introduces himself. “Her ex.”

Jimin is too polite for his own good. He shakes Taehyung’s hand with his head cocked to the side. His pink lips scrunch into a sideways pout, and his eyebrows are just as tense. It’s the look he makes while writing his Music Theory essays. (“Music is about feeling, Y/N! Why do I need to write papers about it?”) It isn’t anger or frustration but a struggle to understand.

All you can think about is that Taehyung called himself your ex. After the grief he’d given you for wanting to be more to him than a sexual conquest, it’s unfathomable that he could claim the two of you had dated.

“She’s told me about you,” Jimin finally states. You’re not sure what angle he’s going for. In all honestly, you’d love to melt into the floor and bypass this entire conversation.

“That’s cute.” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle with the sparkles of the disco ball rotating overhead.

“Hmm, I guess, if you think being an asshole is cute.”

You hope your gasp isn’t detectable. Both men continue staring at each other, so it’s hard to tell.

“Do you?” Taehyung grins, and you barely hide your shock when Taehyung blatantly checks Jimin out.

It’s the same predatory look he’s given you in the past that makes your heart flutter and heat blossom between your thighs. You find it odd to see the look directed at someone else, let alone at your boyfriend.

It’s also odd that you feel relieved when Jimin’s cheeks flush pink at the sudden attention. Somehow, Jimin’s reaction is the validation you need to remind yourself that you haven’t made anything up. Taehyung has this uncanny power to capture people’s attention and draw them into his clutches with a simple look. Seeing Jimin affected by Taehyung makes you feel better about falling into his trap. It doesn’t take away all the blame; you take full responsibility for your actions. But it helps knowing someone as strong as Jimin can be flustered by Taehyung, too.

“I do not, actually.” Jimin tightens his hold on your waist. The feeling of his warm hand on your hip keeps you out of your head. Grounded. Jimin always keeps you grounded.

“Unfortunately, that’s all Taehyung knows how to be,” you pipe up. Even if your snappy comment does nothing to remove the smug look on Taehyung’s face, you get satisfaction from voicing your thoughts regardless.

“If I remember correctly, you enjoyed that about me.”

You let out a long sigh. “Tae, what matters is that I’m not enjoying anything about this conversation right now.”

Jimin presses his fingers into your side, gently reminding you he’s there – as if you could ever forget his presence.

“Let’s go, Jimin.” You wrap your pinky around Jimin’s and tug. “I’m sure whoever Taehyung came with is looking for him.”

You don’t wait for a response from either man. You’re over the days of having men tell you what to do.

Two hours later, you’re thoroughly tipsy and stumbling into Jimin’s hotel room with sore feet and the sensation of cotton in your ears from the nightclub’s loud music. Never the type to be out all night, it didn’t take long for you to ask Jimin if you could head back to his hotel room. Although you succeeded in ensuring Taehyung didn’t ruin the night for you, partying isn’t your thing anyway.

Jimin, on the other hand, is still wired. He strips off his shirt and tosses it onto the couch before working on unbuckling his belt.

“What’s the name of that guy Jackie’s dating?” he asks with a huff like he’s out of breath. You watch him tug his belt from the loops and toss it onto the couch.

“Seokjin? Well, he goes by Jin.” Jin and Jackie. They’re an unlikely pair but cute.

“Yes! He’s so funny!” Jimin pushes his jeans down his thighs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone take that make shots. And you know how my fraternity is.”

Following Jimin’s lead, you shimmy out of your dress. The hotel’s vents are blasting cold air, so you quickly sort through Jimin’s suitcase to find one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of loose boxers to wear. The two of you have undressed in front of each other before, and you’ve even fooled around while naked, but nothing has ever gone beyond using your hands and mouths to get each other off. Jimin has been unbelievably gentle and kind with your desire to take your relationship slow. You’ve been dating for nearly half a year, and he hasn’t pressured you.

You know it’s basic decency to respect someone’s boundaries, but considering the relationships you’ve had in the past, this is a big deal for you.

Not ready to sleep yet, Jimin sits in the bed and reaches for you with grabby hands and a slight pout. He looks adorable with his fluffy blonde hair. You’re not sure you can deny him anything, honestly.

“We probably should have had more water,” Jimin points out as you climb into his lap. Heat radiates from his bare chest, prompting you to snuggle against his skin to absorb some of that warmth for yourself.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re talking with this cute little slur.”

“I am not!”

Okay, maybe you are, but you’re not drunk. You’re just tipsy enough to feel loose in your limbs, light in your head, and hot in your core. Biting your bottom lip, you shift to straddle Jimin’s lap. The blankets pool around your waist, and Jimin’s hands naturally rest on your bare thighs.

Jimin lets you lift his chin so his head is tilted to look at you.

“Are you okay?” His hold on your hips is light but sturdy.

“I want you.”

Jimin’s eyes flutter closed when your lips brush against his neck. You suck at the soft skin where his jaw meets his throat while you thread your fingers through his blonde waves. When you nestle your fingers into the roots, you gently tug his hair.

A low groan rumbles from Jimin’s chest. His grip on your waist tightens, and the sensation causes your body to shudder.

“Are you sure?” He opens his eyes when you pull back from his neck, but you’re focused on the dark, reddish-purple bruise you’ve left on his skin. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything after running into–”

“No.” Your response is curt, probably sharper than Jimin expects if his widened eyes are anything to go off of. “Taehyung doesn’t have any influence over me anymore, Jimin. This is just me wanting you, okay?”

It’s true; Taehyung has nothing to do with your desire for Jimin. Maybe if he does have some ounce of influence over the situation, it’s only because you feel empowered and emboldened after standing up to him. That, mixed with the alcohol, is giving you a sense of invincibility. It’s confidence that you might lose by the night's end, but you’re willing to ride the wave for as long as you can.

None of this is anything you’ll regret in the morning. If anything, you’ll be thankful for the opportunity to prove to yourself and everyone else that you’re ready to take on the things you’ve once feared.

Accepting your reassurances, Jimin nods. He runs a hand up your spine, stopping at the base of your head to cup your neck.

“Can I just say something first?”

His question makes your stomach flip, but you force yourself to maintain eye contact while you nod. You tend to get nervous with him when you’re intimate. There’s nothing wrong with Jimin; he’s kind and attentive. It’s your bad experiences with sex that make you hesitate. There’s too much pressure to perform well.

“You always get really nervous,” Jimin starts slowly, rubbing his palms up your thighs. “And I was trying to think of a way to help you relax.”

Shame burns your cheeks because you feel like this isn’t something Jimin should have to do. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? Why can’t you handle sex without getting so stressed out over it?

“Okay…” you prompt him to continue, though you aren’t sure if you want him to.

“Would you be willing to try something? I promise if you don’t like it, we can stop.”

If it were anyone else, you’d be scared of Jimin’s question, but you find it relatively easy to agree to whatever plan he has – albeit nervously.

Careful not to jostle you too much, Jimin maneuvers you off his lap and goes to his suitcase. It takes a few seconds for him to find what he’s looking for, but when he faces you again, you feel your heart flutter.

In Jimin’s hands is a silk black tie, which he keeps for special occasions – such as the dinner he attended with you and your parents when he first arrived in your hometown for the summer. It looks good on him, especially when he loosens it and lets it hang haphazardly around his neck.

Despite your limited sexual experience, it’s clear that he won’t be the one wearing it tonight. Approaching the bed, Jimin instructs you to sit back with your legs spread so he can kneel between them.

“You trust me?” he whispers. When you nod, he reaches behind your head to secure the tie so that it covers your eyes. “Let me know if it’s uncomfortable, and I can redo it.”

“It feels okay.” Strange, but okay.

You can’t see anything, so you keep your eyes closed. Rather than become even more nervous about the unknown of the darkness, you find that it’s actually relaxing. So often, you let negative thoughts ruin intimacy with Jimin, preventing you from moving forward in your relationship. Somehow, being blindfolded empties your mind until all you can think about is how you imagine what Jimin looks like while he touches you.

You let Jimin guide you to lie flat on your back. With your most prominent sense taken away, you focus on your others to tell you what’s happening. Jimin is slow as he slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt to push it up your torso.

“Can I take this off?” His breath is hot against the side of your neck, and you feel the bed shift when he hovers above you.

“Yes,” you reply, barely above a breathy whisper.

Once Jimin has removed your shirt, his body heat disappears. You don’t panic, but you feel lost without his touches there to ground you. That is, until you feel something wet flick across your nipple.

“Oh, god,” you moan when Jimin wraps his lips around your nipple and gently sucks.

His tongue is hot and sloppy as it swirls around the bud until it’s perky and hard. Satisfied with his work, Jimin attaches his plush lips to your other nipple and repeats the same action.

You arch your back, pushing against his mouth. Jimin wraps his arms around your waist to press his palm to the small of your back, further pulling you into him. The darkness heightens your sense of touch, making each hot swipe of Jimin’s tongue and the graze of his teeth against your skin even more tantalizing. Your pussy throbs with how wet and hot you’re growing just from this alone.

“Jimin,” you whimper.

His fingers hook around the edge of your borrowed boxers. “Can I take these off, too?”

You nod your head quickly and lift your hips to make it easier for Jimin to pull his boxers off of you.

“So pretty…”

You let out a high moan when you feel the pads of Jimin’s fingers brush against your entrance. He gathers your arousal and smears it over your lips and clit. You can hear the squelch the wetness makes when he dips his fingers inside of you just enough to gather more of the sticky mess. Your wet skin goes cold, and you can tell Jimin has blown air on you.

“I’m going to eat you out, okay?” Jimin punctuates his question with a tiny flick of his tongue against your pussy.

“Please, fuck, please,” you want to cry and try to push your hips against where you think his face is, but his hands hold your hips down.

“I will, I will.”

Jimin laughs, airy and gentle, before pushing his tongue further between your lips to flick your clit. He repeatedly sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin while his lips envelop you.

Your skin is blazing from the heat of his heavy breathing and how his touch makes you burn. Every suck of your clit makes you gush between your thighs. You can imagine Jimin staring up at you with dark eyes as he eats you out, humming into your pussy with satisfaction.

You arch into his face when you feel pressure at your entrance again, and Jimin slips two fingers into your pussy. He thrusts them in and out, hooking them to press his fingers against your front wall to find the spot he knows so well that makes you squirm.

“Fuck,” he groans into your dripping pussy. Turning his head to the side, Jimin brushes his mouth against the inside of your thigh. His lips are soaked and sticky.

You rock against his hand as he fingers you, letting out little “ah ah ah’s” with each thrust against your front wall. You feel like you’re on fire, like every breath will ignite your body, make you combust.

“Please, Jimin, please.” You never thought you’d be the type to beg, but you’re so desperate to cum that it’s embarrassing. “I’m going fucking crazy, please.”

You try not to compare Jimin to Taehyung; you really try. But it’s hard not to, especially when Jimin gives you the best head you’ve ever had. Foreplay has never lasted this long before. You can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse.

“Ready for me?” It’s both hard to hear and so fucking hot when Jimin asks the question into your pussy.

It’s disorienting when Jimin uses his clean hand to pull his tie off your face. You blink a few times to adjust to the light, belatedly realizing neither of you ever turned it off. While some people like intimacy in the dark, you and Jimin always keep the lights on. It’s nice to look at it other; it feels more intimate.

You switch positions, allowing Jimin to sit against the headboard and have you straddle his lap like you were before.

“Ride me first, okay?” Jimin whispers in your ear when he takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders. “I want to see your face when you take my cock for the first time.”

Your pussy flutters, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to survive taking his cock if his words are enough to create a reaction in you that makes your knees weak.

“Oh, oh,” you whimper as Jimin sits against the bedframe. “Okay.”

“Look at me.”

And you do. You stare into those narrowed, sultry eyes as you line his cock with your entrance, one hand squeezing his shoulder to help you lean at the correct angle. The stretch is quite easy despite your previous concerns about taking Jimin fully. It should have been obvious; you’re so drenched that you slide down on his cock so smoothly that you want to fucking die.

You know what you’re doing, having had plenty of experience riding Taehyung in the past. It’s different this time, of course. Jimin never takes his eyes off yours as you bounce on his cock. His hands squeeze your hips to guide you up and down his cock, encouraging you to lift until only the head of his cock is nestled in your pussy before sliding back down his entire length. You’re so wet that Jimin’s thighs glisten with your arousal, as do yours.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jimin says with a soft smile.

“Oh my god,” you squeeze his shoulders as you rock against him, “You’re, you’re cuter.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Jimin rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead.

He’s so cute, even as your pussy sucks in his cock and clenches around it. How is it possible for him to seem so innocent in a moment like this? It makes your heart swell with a love you’re worried you’ll never be able to fully articulate to the precious boy beneath you.

“Feels good,” you moan against his mouth when you lean forward to kiss him. “I’m gonna cum already.”

Jimin sucks your bottom lip at the same time he slips his hand between your bodies to start rubbing your clit. The two points of pleasure cause you to slump forward, but luckily, Jimin takes over. He thrusts into with swift, strong movements, never stuttering even when you can tell that he’s nearing his orgasm, as well.

There’s no shame in not lasting very long. You’re both a little bit drunk and extremely horny. The buildup to this moment is almost a climax all on its own. Neither of you can be blamed for how frantically you claw at each other and do your best to grind against each other’s bodies as hard and fast as you can.

“Come on, baby,” Jimin groans into the crook of your neck as he fucks you. “We can cum together, okay? Let go for me so we can make each other feel good.”

“Oh, Jimin, y-yes, fuck, okay.” You nod your head and pant your words against the curve of his ear. Needing something to hold onto, you dig your fingers into Jimin’s hair.

Jimin always knows the right things to say and finds a way to ease your stress and ground you. He talks you through your orgasm and holds you close as you cum. It’s erotic, but it feels gentle and intimate. Rather than dirty talk, it feels sweeter and more caring.

Even when Jimin finds his release, coming in you with a brutal grip on your waist, he whispers soft words of gratitude because he sees fucking you as a privilege – not a challenge to be won.

When it’s over, you melt into Jimin’s embrace, chest to chest, with your head resting against his shoulder. You’re both sweaty and sticky, but it doesn’t matter. All you want to do is be close and be held.

“How are you doing?”

You nod, unable to find the words to express how utterly content you feel. Not just content – you feel cared for, even when all you’ve done is fuck. It’s different with Jimin. It’s gentle. It means something.

“Did the tie help?” he asks, curious and wanting to have done a good job coloring his tone. It’s sweet, just like all of Jimin.

“It did,” you finally speak up. Turning your head to the side, you press your lips against Jimin’s neck and speak to his warm skin. “It helped me get out of my head, so all I focused on was you and how you made me feel.”

“Good?”

You smile with your eyes closed when you feel him kiss your forehead. “You always make me feel good.”

Jimin squeezes you in his arms, content with humming a happy reply against the top of your head. No other words need to be said; for now, the two of you bask in the warmth you bring each other and know that whatever the morning brings, you’ll always have safe arms to fall back into.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#bts fanfic #jimin x reader #bts x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin fluff #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #ohts #delicate

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shibaraki · 9 months

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WE UNFOLD IN POOLS OF GOLD ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, pro hero shouto, publicity stunts (a fake relationship) fluff, flirting, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, pick up lines, confessions, best friends to lovers

wc: 2.3K

“Look, as I’ve said this is only for the event tonight,” Shouto’s manager, Abe Riko, instructed you. Unease had twisted in your stomach as she looked you over with a critical eye, smoothed the wrinkles in your clothing and circled you like a shark. “You don’t have to confirm that you’re in a relationship, you just need to behave like you’re in one. Enough that it’ll create speculation”.

At first you’d been mystified that Shouto agreed to such a thing but it soon became clear the public perception was gnawing at him. To your confusion, people found Shouto to be an enigmatic hero type; they didn’t know how to interact with him and often hesitated in doing so, intimidated by his impassive expression and monotony.

You know Shouto to be the opposite. He is clever in social situations, he’s witty and blunt and he makes you laugh. With that in mind you supposed being their first choice was the least surprising part of the situation. Shoving a beautiful stranger on his arm would only lead to an inevitable stony faced and unfiltered disaster. As one of his best friends your presumed relationship is far more believable given how comfortable you are together.

The issue is you—namely, your feelings for him. Love that knows no boundary. Yearning dug deep in your bones. Hunger that leads you to eventually say yes.

A multitude of anxieties take root in your thoughts, playing out all the possible outcomes, bracing you for the inevitable hurt come morning. Because everything feels right, here. Shouto’s hand sits low on your back like it belongs there. He leans in closer than necessary to listen to you talk, commentates on the lives of the attendants around you; always a smile in his eyes when you laugh at something he says; the brush of his mouth to your temple; the fingers that squeeze at your waist.

“I think we’ve done well,” you say. “Don’t you?”

Rather than needing to stick close to his side as instructed, Shouto has been the one to trail after you, hand in gentle hand while you meander around the venue to greet people. He never enjoyed flashy events but you can tell your presence helps, along with the copious free alcohol.

“Only the tabloids will tell”.

Another waiter passes by, bowing his head low and proffering a tray of champagne flutes. Shouto plucks one up, bringing it to his nose, which wrinkles at the sharp smell. You laugh, distracted as his thumb rubs over your knuckles. “Let me try some”.

Shouto looks at you from the corner of his eye, near electric blue under the lustrous chandeliers hung in the high ceilings. You’ve had a hard time appreciating the architecture when you could simply marvel at him in his grey slim fit suit.

He swipes his tongue across his lip, wincing at the taste before tipping the rim of the glass against your mouth. Your heart beats loud in your ears as you sip the fizzing champagne, sharp and slightly zesty. A flurry of shuttering clicks go off across the room, dwindling into white noise. You’re accustomed to ignoring the reoccurring camera flashes now. “Shit. That’s so dry,” you groused under your breath.

Shouto hums, equal parts amused and congruent with your displeasure. “I wish they would serve something sweet and fruity for once,” he says.

You pointedly refasten your grip around his hand, arm drawn across your midsection to rub his forearm, “I got enough sweet and fruity right here”.

Something ravenous like pride rears in your chest when he tucks his chin and snorts. The movement coaxes a few stray red strands over his forehead. Sucking in a breath, Shouto’s cheeks swell and deflate as he exhales heavily. “Well, according to everybody else I am too boring. That’s why we’re here together”.

“And that’s bullshit. If anything you’re the pretty face making me seem more interesting here,” you say offhandedly, turning your attention to the undulating crowd. The live band takes on a spirited beat as more people gather on the dance floor. Shouto continues to stare in your peripheral vision, coloured in fondness you don’t know what to do with.

“I don’t know if that’s true,” he tells you, a diffident lilt in his voice. “You look incredible tonight”.

There’s a nascent giddiness sprouting in your chest. It feels so distinctly innocent and juvenile, the kind you feel throughout your whole body. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Shouto pauses, flustered, and swallows down another gulp of champagne. “…Abe-san is very good at what she does”.

The reminder that you’re engaging in a publicity stunt is jarring—but his sincerity eases any sting that might’ve come from it. It’s as though he were refreshing his own memory more than he is yours. The thought makes you smile and you take the flute glass from him, swirling the liquid gold inside.

“Shouto. Are you flirting with me?” you tease, holding his gaze as you find the cold impression of his lips on the rim and take a sip. You’ve started burning from the inside out, wiggling fingers entwined, and Shouto knots them together tighter in response.

“Flirting on a date is commonplace,” he returns, pushing the wayward strands back into his carefully styled hair. You soften at the sight. Pinned behind his left ear and combed over to the right, Shouto doesn’t hide his scar the way he used to.

You set the empty champagne glass on a waitress’s tray as she passes, and reach to fix his parting. “Well if we’re allowed to flirt then I can tell you I love your hair like this,” you murmur, fingertips brushing along his temple and down the curve of his right cheek. “It’s hot. And I like seeing more of your face”.

To anyone else the hot and cold hero might appear indifferent. But you feel when the air around him expands, thick with warmth. Shouto is careful to keep it under his skin. “Because you think my face is pretty?” he recalls.

“Now you’re getting it”.

“So then…” Shouto clears his throat, shifting his weight. The grip on your fingers loosens like he expects you’ll let go. “If I’m pretty and you’re cute, together we would be pretty cute”.

The lick of sheer affection that flashes through your chest is overwhelming. “Shouto,” you start, clutching at his hand, thoroughly enjoying the immediate regret written on his face. “Who taught you that?”

“I understand pick up lines just fine,” he mutters, only to sulkily add, “Kaminari may have shared some with me”.

You laugh. It’s all you can do to allay the urge to kiss him. Shouto is dangerous enough as he is—teaching him pick-up lines was the wholesome equivalent of handing him the nuclear codes. The room takes on a gauzy, yellowish tint as the waiters line up to push the balcony doors open, perhaps from all the blood rushing straight to your brain.

The energy amongst the guests takes a palpable turn and people line up to head into the gardens, where a grande marquee has been set up. He tugs your wrist, lightly guiding you to follow the crowd. Expensive garments shimmer under the gloaming moonlight.

You step into the cool night air, warmed by the heat thrumming through Shouto’s left arm. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Ah, he’s going to pout any second now, you think. The drinks must be wearing on him. “Sorry. It was kinda bad,” you tell him, ducking forward to inflict upon him your unfettered smile—because Shouto finds your delight particularly contagious. The tension in his brow releases as he smiles back, nudging you in your side, because he knows exactly what you’re doing. “It wasn’t bad bad—stop sulking. I’ll do you one better”.

“You will?”

The fireworks begin then, snatching his focus; great starbursts of light against the dark sky, lighting up the garden every few seconds. A prismatic glow halos Shouto’s silhouette, returning next in a vivid green, then red. You become hyper aware of your clammy palms and the flecks of fire tousled from his hair in the wind.

Inhibitions softened, tongue loose in your mouth, you steel yourself to pinch delicately at the lapel of his blazer. “Hey. Pretty boy,” you rub the fabric between your thumb and forefinger. “Is this boyfriend material?”

Shouto’s brow lifts in soft surprise and he blinks slowly. You’re struck once again by that fond gaze, how beautifully he wears it, and how he’s close enough that you can see the explosive display reflected in his eyes. As his smile grows the rough tissue above his left cheek crinkles, “Actually I think it’s cotton twill”.

You huff, suitably charmed at his feigned ignorance. Another firework soars into the air with a shrill whistle and the crowd around you murmurs in awe as it booms into a fleeting shower of gold. Neither you nor Shouto bother to glance up, or away from one another.

“You’re wrong, but that’s okay,” you sway further into his space; a small part of you is drawn in by the heat pulsing from his left side, but mostly because you wanted to touch him. “This is boyfriend material—no, husband material,” cheek squished to his shoulder, you peer up and curl your left hand around his bicep. The sleeve is tight against the muscle beneath. “Are you perhaps looking for a life partner?”

A traitorous hiccup jumps in your throat, and Shouto’s mouth thins as he tries not to laugh. There’s a blush staining him pink from his nose to his ears and it very well could be the alcohol, but inwardly you’d like to take credit for the dazed look on his face. Playing along he asks, “What are your qualifications?”

The surroundings and the people fade into obscurity until you forget exactly what it is that led you here. Just you and Shouto in the giddy darkness. “I can make you laugh. I can make you food. I can make you cum,” you hold up a finger for each point made. “I will still love you even when you watch me with that dead fish stare in the morning”.

Shouto’s half lidded expression flickers at that, his mouth jutting into a pout, though there’s no real hurt there. His knuckles brush against your cheek and unfurl to cup your jaw, “But you sleep with your mouth open. It’s cute”.

Turning into his palm you sigh, a little lovestruck, “I’m going to squeeze you like a grape”.

“Please don’t,” the low timbre of his voice wraps around you. “Best friends don’t bully each other,” he falters for a moment, waiting for another technicolour thunder to dwindle. “I suppose they don’t flirt, either”.

“One look at any of your old classmates proves that to be historically untrue, shortcake,” you cover his hand and stroke your thumb across the back of his knuckles. It doesn’t escape you that he has yet to let you go this evening, even going as far as waiting outside the bathrooms for you like some forlorn stray.

“Shortcake,” he mumbles the name as though trying it on for size. Abe-san and his team surely got what they wanted. Shouto smiled more tonight than he has in weeks and you can’t help hoping it’ll never end. “I like when you give me nicknames”.

You’re distantly aware of the lenses pointed in your direction; you conjure possible headlines and imagine the image printed below it, two people looped together in a perfect bow, and somehow it makes you a little braver. “Yeah? Well I like you,” you admit helplessly, clinging to the lapels of his suit. “I have for a long time. More than best friends should, if that wasn’t obvious”.

There’s a brief reprieve as multiple fireworks shriek through the air, splitting into hundreds of strobe stars. You get a clear view of Shouto’s expression as it flowers open before being plunged back into darkness.

“Oh,” his exhale is so loud in the deafening quiet. Hands find your waist and press you close, delaying your growing panic. “Was this our first date?”

“I mean, if you want it to be”.

“I don’t,” he says. Your heart stutters but his fingers keep you in place. “I wanted to take you to the Churaumi aquarium”.

You slump in his arms, cut loose by the relief, and he swallows you in a wintergreen embrace. “Fuck. You could’ve led with that first,” you mutter. His shoulders shake under your cheek.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding anything but.

Hands slip into his jacket. You cinch your arms around his middle as you lean back to get a good look at him. “…You’re seriously going to fly us out to Okinawa for our first date?”

Shouto looks back at you, gentled by the moonlight crowning his head. “Is that a yes?”

The fireworks must’ve finished, you note. A sea of people are surrounding the two of you; they pay you no mind, parting around your bodies with ease, too lost in themselves to notice. Slow, you arch into him, coming chest to chest, fingers locked at the small of his back. A cold sensation nips at your mouth as Shouto shudders an exhale.

“Yes,” you grin and bump your nose to his cheek. “If I kiss you do you think Abe-san will get mad?”

His hand comes to cup your nape, the other massaging idle shapes into your hip. “Probably,” he murmurs, tilting you—and with it, the world—to align your mouths and kiss you anyway.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader

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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Not The Same

He's not the same- and neither are you. And you'll never be, as long as he can prevent that.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, fluff??, injury

Length: 2.8k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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You really only sleep on the ship and leave right after, because Jungkook told you he doesn't trust them enough to stay much longer than you both have to.

And you'd also probably be in the way of repairs- so you both roam around the surrounding city instead, looking around for ways to make money.

Jungkook plans on selling some of the cargo he has. Mainly Steel from earth- though the issue is that currently, no vendor you've visited wants to take it, and any other one that's in the surrounding areas is way too far away out of town to just walk to. There's some alarm to take caution today, because a certain gas is higher in the atmosphere especially outside of the city- so Jungkook denied any of your attempts at telling him to go alone instead then, since his body would not really have any reaction to the change in the air.

But he refuses. Says he can't leave you alone, for some reason you're not sure of.

What he doesn't take into account is however, that he does, occasionally, leave you out of sight. For example right now, as he went into a store to buy something- and you can't stand here and just wait until disaster strikes. He needs the money, his ship is important- and from what you could tell from the destination coordinates inside the control station, he seems to have a tight schedule ahead that he already will have trouble to keep up. And either way, it's time for you to repay him his hospitality- after all, the only reason you're healthy and still alive and not in captivity, is because he simply decided that.

And it's a kind decision, even if he didn't mean for it to be one.

So you feel in your pocket for the little device for his ship, and look for an opportunity to vanish- doing it exactly as he seems to argue about payment for something, a perfect chance since he's distracted now.

The city is bustling, loud, fast paced and intimidating. But it's nothing you can't manage- signs and a rough idea of the city's layout giving you enough hints to help you know where you have to go. That place is a vendor, far out of town- about a three hour walk. Manageable- you're used to walking most of the days anyways from your past homelessness on earth, so it's not out of question.

You just hope that you find the right person, and don't run into some bad news along the way.

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Back at the store, Jungkook is absolutely panicking inside.

You're gone, completely vanished, not even a trace of your scent remaining to help him find you. And while he could always just regroup and settle himself before freaking out, you kind of have his main communication device with you- which makes him worry about your intentions, considering how much you've tried just hours prior to make him sell you after all, just to fund the repairs for his ship.

He can't even think about doing that. He's not his father.

He asks around if anyone has seen you, before he even thinks about your collar. He could just have you searched by law enforcement, and he's steady on the way towards a station, when he stutters. They'll probably shoot you down if you run, and considering your past, you'd definitely run.

So instead, he walks around, goes hint after hint to somehow try and figure out what the hell your plan is. You definitely didn't return to the ship, so he's safe in that department- it would be a nightmare to somehow make those guys understand that you are not for sale, and weren't allowed to just.. sell yourself like that. And if he was to lock his communication device, they'd surely ping you and you'd be labeled a thief- which would just get you hunted down again.

For now, you're safe with his collar around your neck, his name, ship number and citizen ID engraved in it. Currently, you're owned and basically free to move around-

and he hopes you don't get the stupid idea of trying to get rid of it.

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Your nose is burning. The back of your throat is equally in pain- just like your chest, breath tasting like iron as if you'd ran a marathon too fast, too long. But it doesn't matter, because you finally spot the sign towards the vendor ahead.

The large tent is quiet, but at least it's shielded from the scolding sun, a little cooler but stuffy from all the cargo that's catching dust out here in the desert. A man, three eyes in his face with one closed permanently, is looking at you. "What'cha here for, pet?" He chuckles lowly, like a man who's smoked since he was born. He's pretty overweight, hammock-like seating arrangement creaking a little as his body shakes with laughter. "Come 'ere. What does your master want, eh?" He asks, and you walk closer, holding out the communication device that displays the currently loaded cargo in Jungkook's ship.

"120 tons of Steel. Earth-made." You say, though your throat hurts when you talk. "I heard you're currently looking for that." You say, as the man leans closer, and hums, clearly interested. Only now do you notice the two extra sets of arms he has, three fingers on every hand, claw like tips dull, not sharp.

"Indeed.." He mumbles. "What does he want for it?" He asks, and you swallow the stale tasting saliva, clearing your throat.

"Whatever you can offer." You say, remembering how much Jungkook had paid, according to the data on his device. "At least twenty-five hundred though."

"Pah!" He laughs, leaning back. "He's one stupid fella if he sends his pet to get money!" The guy laughs. "You get thirty six hundred."

"Forty flat." You say.

"Thirty five, now that you're trying to be bold, little brat." He growls. "I could just shoot you right now, and take the license for the goods instead."

"Then my collar will send a distress signal to my master immediately." You say. "He's waiting for me, after all. And he probably knows the worth of the goods a lot better."

"Are you threatening me?" He asks lowly, squinting sharply at you.

"I'm just offering the option to agree on a price with a 'pet' that's not aware of the actual worth of the goods she's supposed to sell." You shrug.

It's tense for a good moment, and suddenly, the man laughs, loudly enough to reverb in the metal vases stored around, hammock shaking under his weight.

"You're a lovely little thing!" He roars. "I almost want to buy you instead!" He chuckles, slowly calming down. "Forty flat, agreed. Give me the thing so I can pay-"

"I'll need it.. physically." You tell him, trying to keep your face stoic despite your growing fear.

"He taught you well. Ah, at least I'll get my things." He mumbles, searching under the large table full of things for something- filling a bag with metal currencies, same one's Jungkook and everyone else uses commonly. "Forty five." He purrs, putting the bag on the table. "Just because you're very entertaining." The alien man rumbles towards you, pushing the bag closer with one of his clawed fingers. "Buy yourself something nice with it." He laughs, as you take the bag, and tap on the device to sell the goods- hovering it over a glowing patch on the metal table that's clearly meant for the signal of the device you're holding.

'Ownership transferred to: Yaelno 'Spider' Spyolden.' is seen displayed as a message.

"I will have my men pick up the goods tomorrow morning." Yaelno tells you. "You should go home now, little pet. I bet your master already misses his dog." He roars with laughter, as you snatch the bag and practically run out of the tent.

Only when you're far away enough to not see the tent clearly anymore do you check the bag to count- and the man was true to his word, currency real, shining with the distinctive rainbow- shimmer that can't be replicated, and the Number of bigger and smaller coins adds up to the amount you agreed on with the man.

Even the extra adds up.

The only thing that you now feel could become a problem, is the storm- throwing sand left and right around you, while the air feels scratchy in your throat, stinging in your eyes with every breath you take. You try and use your shirt over your mouth, but it's useless- you can't really see properly anymore, barely reaching the first few metal sheds outside of town, when you hide behind a wall, curling up after hiding the bag of money under your clothes.

You made it- but you somehow failed, too. What a mess.

And only faintly, as you lose consciousness, do you notice someone crouching down in front of your body now laying on your side on the ground, a hand pulling the collar a little to read what's engraved in the tracker, which's LED light is now blinking red due to your body being in clear distress.

A sigh is heard. A low voice speaks- mostly to himself.

"Jeon Jungkook.." The voice mumbles, almost disappointed, but also a little amused. "..You're just like your father after all."

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"You have to help me." Jungkook immediately barks at his long time friend, who steps aside after Jungkook just walked in.

"Ah yes, Jungkook, of course you can come inside, make yourself at home. I'm doing great, thanks for asking-" The man says, before Jungkook turns around, eyes a stressed turquoise color.

"I'm not kidding around- I need to find something.!" He presses on, while his friend helps him sit in the kitchen area of the metal house, inner walls padded with fabrics and pelts to keep the warmth inside. "I lost someone-"

"I know." He says, a gentle smile on his lips. "Nah- sit down. You're way too agitated right now to think clearly." He pushes the Alien back into his chair, anger slowly mixing into the colors of his eyes. "She's fine- Yoongi is looking after her right now." He explains, filling a glass with water before he sets it onto the table. "Why was she out alone anyways?"

"She wasn't-" Jungkook rubs his hands over his face. "I just- I went into a store to get her those stupid.. things she needs for knitting or something, and when I-"

"You bought her knitting equipment?" The man laughs. "That's adorable, Jungkook!"

"Seokjin, shut up, it's not about that!" Jungkook growls. "Anyways, I came back out and she was gone. I have no idea where she went or why!" He sighs, finally taking the glass to drink from it.

"Well, she had a pretty hefty amount of cash on her, that's for sure." Jin says, sitting down in front of Jungkook, who's eyes are now full of a surprised blue. "And your general communication device too- though it was locked." He informs his friend in front of him, who's clearly finally coming down, emotionally, from all the stress he's been through. "What's she to you anyways? A partner?" He wonders.

"No-" Jungkook denies. "-I'm not sure anymore.." He says, staring into the water in his glass. "She snuck on board. Didn't care if she died. Even now-" He sighs. "She wanted me to sell her to the mechanics so I could get it fixed."

"So you took her in." Jin gently finishes, though Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, I'm just-" He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, thinking clearly. "I haven't found the appropriate planet for her yet." He excuses.

"Uh-huh." Seokjin lifts a brow in question. "That's why you went out and got her knitting-stuff."

"Well, she's bored!" Jungkook defends himself, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. "Doesn't have anything to do, can't read well, doesn't know how to steer a ship or calculate maps. I don't have any kind of job for her." He says.

"So you don't want her to be bored." Jin offers. "You want her to be happy." He teases, making Jungkook growl while his eyes can't hide the embarrassed pinkish hue.

"Fuck off." He simply responds, when a door opens.

"Oh." Yoongi says, his cat-like ears turning towards him, tail snapping upwards in interest. "She's asleep, but fine." He offers, only somewhat leaning the door closed, keeping it open for a bit in case he's needed back inside. "Throat's irritated as hell. She won't talk for a little while, that's for sure." He says, bumping his head into Jungkook's- a common greeting amongst the shorter Alien's kind. "The hell was she doing outside?" He wonders, filling a glass with water for himself.

"Jungkookie bought her some supplies so she can have a hobby while he explores the galaxy with her~" Seokjin teases, earning a glare from the younger alien.

"Oh really? Thought you wouldn't go for a human, considering you didn't want to be like your father."

It's deadly quiet as the sentence is spoken, even Seokjin now on edge as Jungkook's white eyes stare at the tabletop.

The worst thing is, that Jungkook can't even deny any of it. He doesn't know why he's getting attached to you, why he can't seem to get rid of you even if the world offers him chance after chance. He could've left you twice already- but he can't do it. He actually enjoys your company, especially after letting you inside the command central. You're calm, and easy, and you feel good to be around- and yeah, maybe his ship has been fucking lonely all those years that he's lived this life.

Is he just like his father after all?

"No." Jungkook says, quietly. "I'm not like him."

"So you're not her partner?" Yoongi wonders, and Jungkook shakes his head, eyes swirling colors, unsure what's really going on inside him. "Interesting. Maybe we could keep her here then?" He looks at Seokjin. "Or I could take her with me. I'm sure my partner would enjoy some fellow human company-"

"She's not going with you." Jungkook denies. "Neither is she staying with Jin. She's registered under my name."

"So she is your partner-" Yoongi jabs again.

"She's not!" Jungkook bursts out. "She's-" He searches frantically inside his head for an answer that could satisfy not only his friends, but himself also. What are you? You're definitely not the same as all the other humans. So what the hell are you?

"She's a friend." Jungkook finally decides, not only for now, but in general. "She's a friend, and she's coming with me." He says, a final tone to his voice that let's no argument get involved again.

"Jungkook." Yoongi says, tiny tufts of hair on the tips of his cat ears swaying a bit in the wind of the fan close by. "You know that I just tried to help you, right?" He offers, as the fellow alien of a different kind looks at him. "Of course you're not like him." He says. "And neither is she the same as your mother-"

"Absolutely not." Jungkook says, standing up at that- the mention of his mother clearly setting him off. "-I'll make sure she doesn't end up like her." He says, before he walks into your room where you're sleeping, a soft but thin blanket over your body, sensor attached to your forehead to measure your temperature.

And yet again, just sitting close to you is already putting him at ease again. He feels ten times better than just moments ago, simply because he can watch you breathe and be assured that you're fine now. He slowly moves to the little bag of money, counting it, an unsure and most of all surprised expression on his face at the sheer amount of it all, before he spots his communication device.

And unlocking it gives him all the answers.

"You sly little devil.." He mumbles to himself, chuckling a little under his breath. You must've overheard him the entire time at the vendors where he tried to get rid of the slowly rusting metal inside his ship- but the fact that you sold it for almost more than double the amount he thought he'd ever get on this planet, is astonishing.

You're full of surprises- and maybe even more than he thought.

Maybe keeping you at his side isn't such a bad idea after all.

Maybe he should let you stay.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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melanieph321 · 4 months

Note

idea for rubencito cos i love your angst!!

y/n and ruben get into a huge fight and break up and then a few days later y/n’s friends take her out to get over him but they run into each other at a party or event etc. and they try to make each other jealous but they end up back together xx

This fic 😝😝

Ruben Dias x Reader - The Mating Game 18+

Enjoy!

"New year, new me, right?" You said cheerfully. Your friends on the other hand, did not look as convinced.

"What?"

"Is there a reason why you want to go out and party all of a sudden?" They asked. "I mean we haven't managed to get you out of bed for the last six weeks. All of a sudden you want to party?"

"But it's New Year's?" You shrugged.

"Yeah, but you've just gone through a really bad break up Y/N."

"It wasn't that bad." You said, indenial. Your friends had seen it first hand though, seen how much it sucked for you to miss something that hadn't been in your favor.

"Guys I just wanna dance. What's wrong with that?"

They shrugged. "Nothing I suppose. Just don't throw yourself at the next guy that smiles your way."

You gasped. "Are you calling me easy?"

"No, we're calling you heartbroken and vulnerable. Perhaps I should refrase myself...." Isaac said, your friend from university who had known you the longest. "Don't throw yourself at another footballer who can't commit to a healthy relationship."

"Trust me," You chuckled. "That I won't do."

"Alright then, let's party!"

Your friends let you drag them to the hottest club in town. Having dated your ex, Ruben Dias, some of his fame had rubbed off on you. Even when broken up, you would often get invited to extravagant and exclusive parties like this one. Usually you hesitated to go, since it didn't feel right going without Ruben. But tonight was New Year's Eve, you deserved to have a little fun.

"Anyone want a drink?" One of your friends asked, preparing to take your orders to the bar.

"You guys go ahead, I'm gonna stay here with Y/N."

Everyone left to get a drink at the bar, everyone except for your friend Isaac. You smiled. "You don't have to babysit me, you know? I won't run off with the next best guy."

"No, but the next best guy might wanna run off with you. Look how everyone's staring at you Y/N."

"It's the dress." You sneered. You hadn't worn it since your university days. It's promiscious design would usually draw the right amount of attention from both guy's and girls. However that was never your intention once you and Ruben started dating. Now that that disaster of a relationship was over, you felt that there was nothing wrong wearing a jaw dropping dress again.

"Y/N, guess who's at the bar?" Your friends rushed back to your table with the drinks. For some reason they all looked giddy and excited.

"Who?" You asked.

"Ruben."

"Oh."

"And his new boe. Or we suspect it's his new boe, they were quite clingy."

"Did he see you?" Isaac asked.

Your friends shook their heads. "I don't think so, why?"

Isaac turned to you, "We can leave if you want."

"No." You frowned. "I came here to dance and that's what I'm gonna to do." You stood, waving for your friends to come join you on the dance floor. They happily did. You got lost in the music. A deep trance that made you loose all sense of time and worry. Time faded and reality struck. You had to go to the bathroom. "I'll be right back." You said, giving your friends the heads up. You didn't get far however, as a big hand got a strong grip around your arm, tugging you to a corner somewhere where the music wasn't as loud.

"Ruben, what are you....?"

You knew it was him before he turned to face you. He was smiling at you, grinning smugly. "I could ask you the same thing Y/N, what are you doing here of all places?"

"I got invited." You said, tipping on your toes to match Ruben's intimidating height.

"Jack invited you?" He looked suprised. A little jealous even.

"No, his girlfriend put me on the list."

"I see."

You didn't like the flat stare that appeared on his face. Ruben did this when he didn't want you to know what he was thinking about. However, after two years together, you knew him too well.

"Just because we've broken up doesn't mean I have to break up with our mutual friends Ruben."

He frowned. "I never said that."

"No, but you were thinking it."

He did not answer but let a low chuckle give him away. Perhaps he was impressed that you could still read his mind. Like right now for instance, his eyes wandered freely, checking you out. Somthing below your chin interested in. You wondered what it might be, however, a good guess would be your tits. The cleavage of you dress did nothing to contain them.

"Who was that guy you were dancing with just now?" He asked.

You smiled, knowing that Ruben had spotted you earlier in the crowd. You had actually gotten a glimpse at him too, him and his alleged boe. A tall, blond girl. You wondered where she might have gone?

"My friends Ruben, I was dancing with my friends."

"Who, Isaac?"

"He's one of them, yes."

Ruben nodded. "I knew he always had a thing for you."

"Ruben, he's gay."

"Oh."

You rolled your yes. "Can you get out of the way now, I need to pee."

"Wait."

Again, Ruben grabbed a hold of your arm. There was no point in fighting him, his strength compared to yours was unmatched.

"What?" You said, staring blankly at those brown eyes. Eyes that you once had a privilege waking up to every morning.

"I've missed you." He said, a softened gaze.

You snorted. "I doubt that."

He grinned. "Haven't you missed me?"

You stepped up to his large frame, challenging him. "Not one bit."

"Yeah?" He raised a brow. "Prove it."

You grinned. Challenge accepted.

"Where were you?" Isaac asked, upon your return to the dance floor.

"Bathroom." You shrugged. "Come on, dance with me."

The dance floor was crowded. Your friends moved around you whilst you picked some random dude to grind your dress up against.

"Go Y/N!"

Your friends egged you on and so did other people. It drawed attention to you, allowing Ruben to find you amongst the crowd again, although you doubt that his eyes had never let you out of his sight in the first place.

You got lost in the trance, letting the random guy's hands roam freely around your body, at one point squeezing your breast. Your eyes found Ruben's. He was gritting his teeth. You smiled and continued dancing. The guy breathed down your neck, telling you how sexy and valiant you were. But you froze. The tall blonde had returned to Ruben, clinging on to his neck. He no longer paid attention to you, although he probably understood that you were looking his way. He bent down to kiss the girl, serenading her neck with kisses that would definitely leave marks visible in the morning. His hands squeeze her ass and she giggled in his ear. You however, couldn't laugh or enjoy yourself any longer.

"What's wrong baby?" The guy you were dancing with asked. "You look thristy, let me buy you a drink."

You let the man drag you to the bar. Perhaps a bad idea since your friends had been bringing drinks all night. You were quite tipsy and uneven with in your steps.

Arriving at the bar, you saw the man under bright lights for the first time. He looked much older than you and less appealing than what he had been as another pawn on the dance floor.

"So what do you do for a living sweetheart?" He asked, handing you your shot if vodka, waiting for you to down the drink before answering his question.

"I'm surviving." You said, to which the man laughed. "Aren't we all."

He fished his phone out of his pocket, regarding the time. "Tell you what, clocks about to strike midnight soon. What do you say I take you to my place and we can celebrate the new year there?"

"But my friends." You said, mind clouded with alcohol.

"I'm sure they won't miss you."

The man was already getting up and off of his seat, dragging you along with him.

"No, I don't want to leave them."

"Come on darling, you'll be better off at my place. I'll take care of you."

"No but...." The alcohol made you light on your feet, the man had managed to drag you all the way towards the exit and out of the club. You shivered as the nights cold hit you. Your coat, your wallet and all off your belongings were still inside of the club.

"I have to tell my friends where I've gone." You turned around, heading back to the club.

"Nah, darling. You're not gonna dance with me all night just to leave me with light wallet and blue balls."

He grabbed you by the waist.

You screamed.

The man pushed you ahead of him towards his car. You stumble to the ground, scarping your knees.

"Get up." He shouted. "Get the fuck up you little..." The man grunted, followed by his body falling limb to the ground.

You screamed once more.

"Y/N. You okay. Did he hurt you?"

Ruben pulled you to your feet with ease. You eyes widened in suprise at the sight of him.

"She's freezing." He said. He looked mostly concerned with the blood on your scraped knees.

"Here, I have her coat." Isaac said, handing Ruben your things. "I've been drinking. Can you take her home?"

Ruben nodded and soon he had you in the passenger seat of his car.

"You should be careful who you let buy you drinks Y/N." He said, slapping his thigh in frustration. "Haven't I told you to be careful?" He was more angry with himself for letting you slip out of his sight. Thank god for Isaac, who must have seen the man drag you with him out of the club.

"Easy for you to say." You muttered. "You don't even allow yourself to have one drink on new year's. New Year's, Ruben."

He ignored you and kept on driving. He wasn't taking you home though. He was taking you back to his apartment, your old home.

Ruben had you seated on his bathroom counter whilst he took a look at your knee, cleaning the wound.

"You bought a new tub." You said, eyeing it jealousy.

Ruben smiled. "You ordered it, remember?"

"I did?"

He nodded. "It didn't arrive until we...you know."

Made sense. Your break up with Ruben was messy. You wanted out of the situation and his home without the two of you really having a chance to talk. In a way you were afraid, afraid that he would somehow find a way to convince you to stay. Knowing Ruben, he could've definitely made it happen. You were slightly hurt by that, the fact he never even fought for you to stay.

"What are you thinking about?" He said, his eyes on your bleeding wound.

You smiled faintly. "Us and what a mess we were."

He frowned. "Not all the time."

"But most of the time."

Ruben finished putting a bandaid to your knee before meeting your eyes again. He stood close, his hands resting on your thighs. "Well, we all can't be perfect, can we?"

"Yeah but we didn't even try aiming for perfection. We were simply a mess from the beginning to the end."

"Who says that was the end?"

You sighed. "Be real Ruben. We are better off without each other than we are with each other."

"I agree to disagree."

You were suprised by how stubborn he was. Just a few hours ago Ruben had been the one kissing another girl in the club, groping her, knowing that you were watching. Then again, you had done the exact same thing to him, however your attempt to make Ruben jealous had gone very wrong.

"I don't like the games we played." You said. There had been alot of those when you were together. Alot of trying to make the other jealous. Isaac was the one to tell you that that was not a very healthy thing to do in a relationship. Especially in a relationship with someone like Ruben, who often received more attention than you. You often eneded up getting more hurt than he did, making the mating game between you slightly unfair.

"You're the only girl I want, you know that Y/N."

"Then why did you let me go?"

It had gone unnoticed, Ruben's forhead pressing against yours. Somthing generated between you, somthing know but unknown. A feeling indescribable with words.

"It was a mistake. I should have never let you walk out that door. I regret not chasing you down the street, begging you to take me back."

You chuckled. "I would've loved to see that."

Ruben raised his head and yours. "Would you?"

You frowned. "Would I have what?"

"Taken me back?" His eyes were big, glowing in the bathroom light.

"Ruben I..."

He shook his head, "Yes or no Y/N, you said no games."

"Ruben." You whispered against his skin. You were so near. Ruben had your back pressed against the mirror, your thighs slightly wrapped around his stem as you sat back on the bathroom counter.

"Yes..." You said, voice barley audible.

"Louder." He demanded.

"Yes." You said, forcing the words out. "I would've have taken you back. In a heart beat."

Ruben's forhead rubbed against yours. You were like two animals. Irrevocable mates. Weather the force of nature brought him to you, or simply the beating of your hearts, the connection was irreversible.

"Y/N." He grunted, growling slightly as your hands ran through his hair. "I love you."

You raised his chin, leaning forwards to plant a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. "I love you too."

It was all the conformation he needed. Ruben seldom made a move without your consent. Once he had it there was no stopping him, no controlling him whatsoever. His hands slipped under your dress in search of something familiar.

He found it.

You gasped. "Ruben."

"Ssshh. Relax."

The kisses remained sweet but longing. Ruben traced his lips along your jawline, your head knocking back against the bathroom mirror. His lips moved down the slope of your neck, to the hill of your collar bone.

"Please." You begged. The teasing was unbearable. Ruben's hands remained under your dress, his fingers making up for the time he had been lost without you.

"Yes, right there."

Your arms clung around his neck as his thumb began circulating the right spots. He grunted in response to your loud moans.

"Baby, right there."

He loved it when you called him that. Baby. Ruben's thumb began moving faster, with the aid from how wet you had become.

"No, no." You cried. "Don't stop, I'm so close."

Ruben chuckled, his hands withdrawing from underneath your dress. He left you cold and sticky, but only for a brief moment. In that time you noticed the bludge in his pants, his hard cock revealing itself as he took it of his pants. It was dripping with cum.

You smiled. "If you want me, take me. I'm all yours."

It's what he had been waiting for, your consent to destroy you. Your back slammed against the mirror, rattling the frame. Ruben however, used his hands to tugg your hips forwards so that your legs dangled over the bathroom counter. He closed the gap between you. His hand was brought down to push your panties to the side. You sighed against his neck, a smooth shiver running down your spine as Ruben pushed in deep, his cock pulsating against your walls. He fucked you slow, forcing you to be aware of him and how well you fit together. His hands framed your face, his fingertips caressing your skin.

"You're so beautiful Y/N, so fucking beautiful."

The mirror shook behind you as the movment of Ruben's hips knocked your ass flat against the frame. He was merciless, yet cautious. He had never fucked you this slow before.

"What is it. Don't you like what I'm doing to you baby?"

His pace was uneven, like waves crashing against the rocks of an ocean cliff.

"Please." You said, your voice weak and distracted by how good it felt. "Please don't stop."

He smiled against your lips, finally upping the pace. The mirror rattled behind you, matching his aggressiveness. Ruben had no fear of breaking it and so he kept fucking you until your head fell back with the pleasure, until your finger tips clawed down the side of his back muscles, until the words coming out of your mouth sounded more animalistic than human. He fucked you until your bodies began to tremble. Ruben rested his palm flat against the mirror as on last thrust had him slumped down against your body.

"Fuck Y/N, you take me so well."

He was still inside you, not yet going soft. It was the leverage you needed to come down from the high yourself. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, the groans of your orgasm hidden and stored away in a safe place.

Ruben brought himself out of you, tilting your head back with his hands. He looked back at you smug, quite impressed with you for smirking after enduring what he just did to you.

"You're right." He said. "We are a mess."

You tilted your head, kissing his lips. "Happy new year Ruben." It was faint, but the sounds of fireworks could be heard outside. The sounds of a new beginning.

"Happy new year baby."

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst

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darkmajesty-xo · 1 year

Text

the spark between us pt.1

18+ MDNI| himbo!kaminari , cherrychaser!shinsou, nerdy!reader

this was an absolute disaster.

out of all the students in your soc theory class, the professor had paired you with none other than denki fucking kaminari.

why is this such a big deal ?

for starters, he’s an idiot. there isn’t an intelligent thought going on in that pretty blonde head. the only reason he was even enrolled at Yuuei University was athletics. he was set to go pro but the league required at least three years of college before an athlete could be drafted. school was literally a placeholder for him until he was able to do what he really wanted.

secondly, it would be extremely difficult to be partnered with this beautiful idiot because you had the hugest crush on him.

what’s not to like about kaminari ? he’s handsome, funny and charismatic—undeniably one of the most popular guys in school. a super bubbly, “life of the party, attitude that was the complete opposite of your shy, reserved nature.

he was also taken, so that ruined your chances of anything happening if you were even his type to begin with. as far as you knew, he’d never spared you a second glance. so, why was he walking over to your lunch table with his boyfriend in tow.

you knew shinsou a little better than kaminari—he was the son of your favorite professor and you had a couple classes together. on a few occasions he’d lean over to ask for the date or a spare pencil. and it definitely made your heart race when he’d whisper “thanks, kitty” , referring to your favorite headband, and wink before turning around.

okay, so maybe you had a crush on both of them but that made things even more difficult!

“hey, yn!” kaminari shouted as he approached.

god, he was so loud. half the cafe turned to look in your direction. you sunk in your seat silently praying that the ground would swallow you hole.

“helloooo— earth to yn. anybody home?”

he was getting closer and there was absolutely no way out of this, so you gave a small wave as he slid into the booth across from you. shinsou opted to sit next to you, throwing his long arm behind your head.

“hey, kitty. funny meeting you here” he smirked lazily, reaching into your lunch tray to pop one of the fries in his mouth.

“h-hi shinsou. hi k-kaminari” you replied, looking down at your fingernails. eye contact wasn’t your strong suit and it was especially intimidating with the two of them.

kaminari didn’t seem to notice. “no need to be so formal—all my friends call me kami or denki!”

“we’re not friends…” you mutter, sparing a glance at the blonde while chewing at your fingertips. seeing his pout made you immediately regret your words.

“ouch, sparky. sucks to be you” shinsou teases, taking another fry to throw at his boyfriend.

“dick” kaminari scoffs, before glancing back at you. there was the briefest moment that his honey brown eyes met your own before snapping back down. interesting, he thought to himself. “well, we may not be friends yet but i promise to win you over if you give me a chance ! whaddya say partner?”

he extends his hand for you to shake. they’re pale and pretty. with long veins popping out of the flesh and black painted fingernails. your mind flashes to thoughts of them caressing your body—would they be soft and smooth or rough and calloused ?

you knawed at your lip in contemplation. it wouldn’t hurt to try and be friends— you did have to work together anyway. and it would be nice to have someone to talk to outside of schoolwork. if you could manage to string together more than two sentences.

you dare glance up at his honey brown orbs for the briefest of moments before settling on his pouty lips.

“ohkay, k-kami” his lips curl into a smile as you extend your hand to meet his. static electricity courses through your fingertips causing you to yelp and pull back.

“looks like you two have chemistry” shinsou purrs, lazily fingering the tip of your cat eared headband.

kaminari looks at his boyfriend incredulously.

“no bro, i told you we have sociology!”

you and shinsou groan in unison. “whaaaat?” kaminari whines making you giggle. shinsou squeezes your shoulder and smirks down at you and heat immediately floods your face.

this is going to be a long semester.

#shinkami #shinkami x reader #shinsou x reader #shinsou x kaminari #shinsou fluff #shinsou smut #shinsou x black!reader #denki kaminari #hitoshi shinsou #mha kaminari #kaminari x reader #kaminari x black reader #kaminari smut #kaminari fluff #mha shinsou

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byeoltoyuki · 1 month

Text

✧memories of us ✧ Once upon a sunny day

↳ Pairing: Jisung x Reader

❧ Genre : romance / smut /fluff / 1st love to strangers to lovers

❧ Summary: Sometimes memories are just that. Memories.

A series of drabbles about you and Jisung, about your love and your heartbreak and a second chance.

❧ A/N: Likes and reblogs are appreciated ♥

Masterlist / previous / next

When Soyeon invited you to her little garden party, you didn’t need to think twice, you said yes. First, because Soyeon, in a very short lapse of time became an important person in your life. She was bubbly, caring, funny and owed your favourite café. Secondly, the party was at her place and her house despite being small was cosy and had a nice garden that came out right from a fairy tale (in your opinion, of course). And then, food. Soyeon and her BBQ – nobody could possibly say no to this. You certainly couldn’t.

This was how you found yourself at her door on a Sunday afternoon, waiting for her to open it. Loud music was coming out of the house which made you wonder if Soyeon could even hear her doorbell. She, of course, did.

Soyeon opened the door, looking like a little fairy with two light pink braids, flowers in her hair, a cute beige dress with black dots. She looked adorable.

“Y/N!” She beamed and jumped right into your arms, almost making you drop the new plant you brought her as a gift for her garden and the bottles of her favourite wine. You managed, just on time, to open your arms widely enough to avoid any disaster.

“I’m glad you’re here.” She hugged you a little tighter before completely letting go. Only then she noticed what you were carrying in your arms. She squealed and took the bag with the bottles off your hands. “You’re the best.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “I know.”

You followed her inside, excited to meet her friends. It had been a while since you met new people and despite feeling a little bit anxious about it, you couldn’t deny how genuinely happy it made you feel. Soyeon had mentioned over the texts that few of her college friends would attend her BBQ party along with some of her childhood friends. You didn’t know what to expect because truly Soyeon was unpredictable.

Turns out, you and Soyeon didn’t have the same definition for ‘few friends’. Her version of few was dozens of people gathered in her garden. You halted in your track, a little intimidated with all the new faces.

Soyeon noticed you were no longer by her side and glanced at you over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I promise they’re a little loud and noisy, but they’re adorable.”

At her words, you relaxed, put the plant on the ground and quickly followed her. She was right, they were loud but the kind of loud that reminded you of your own group of friends that you missed a lot. You spotted two guys already taking care of the meat, one of them was smiling so brightly, you couldn’t help but stare. Every time he laughed at his friend, cute dimples showed up on his face. Really cute.

“Minho!” Soyeon called in the direction of the two guys.

Your body froze and all colour drained from your face. Minho was a rather common name, right? There was no way it could be the Minho. But as you followed Soyeon’s gaze, your heart missed a beat. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight. The universe was cruel. The world was vast and yet, somehow, Soyeon knew Minho, the guy that used to be your friend and the guy that happened to still be your ex-boyfriend’s friend.

“Fuck.” You cursed under your breath. You wanted to turn back and run away as fast as you could; even if it had been years, nothing could have prepared you from meeting him again. You wished he had forgotten you. You wished he wouldn’t recognize you but one look at his face and you knew he had.

You were glad the bottles were no longer in your hands, otherwise they would have shattered on the ground. The moment your eyes locked, you flinched. He hadn’t changed much. Still handsome, still strong, still with cold eyes and yet, you saw something else in his eyes too. Regret? Guilt? You refused to think about it.

“Hey, the first round of meat is almost ready.” The other guy informed Soyeon, completely missing the thick tension between you and Minho. “Oh hi. You must be Y/N. Soyeon talks a lot about you! I’m Chris.”

You took this chance to avert your eyes from Minho’s face and looked instead at the man. Up close, he was really cute, but you couldn’t fully enjoy the moment. Not when Minho’s eyes were boring holes into you.

You cleared your throat and attempted a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“And this old man,” Soyeon pointed at Minho, “is Minho. Don’t worry, he might look intimidating but he’s a teddy bear.”

You had to bite back a laugh. The description she made of Minho was pretty accurate but the look he gave her was just so him, you couldn’t help but shake from holding back your laugh. Of course, he noticed. His attention went back to you instantly and you expected one of his ‘I’m going to make you pay’ look but instead he seemed to relax and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

For a moment, you stared at each other, a silent conversation going on. It had been years and you didn’t part in a nice way, but now that you were face to face, you still wanted to know how he was, what he had become. He did too, you saw it in his eyes.

“Okay, this is awkward.” Soyeon’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of you. “Is it me or do you guys know each other?”

“Exes?” Chris suggested after observing you.

“Never.” Minho scoffed at the suggestion.

You quirked a brow at him. “He’s into more annoying and loud women.” You couldn’t help but think about Yunji, the bane of his existence. At least, it was what he used to say when really, she was everything he ever wanted. He could deny it for the sake of his ego, but you had seen it in his eyes, in his behaviour. He cared for her so deeply. Sadly, the day you and Jisung broke up, many things changed.

You didn’t want your group to fall apart, but there was no stopping. Minho picked his side and so did Changbin and Yunji. You knew Changbin stayed in touch with both Minho and Jisung and you were glad they did. But Yunji. Yunji couldn’t. She was angry. Angry with how things ended with you and Jisung. Angry with how easily Minho stopped talking to you. But more importantly, she loathed how easily Minho had stopped talking to her too. He didn’t even try to reach out and it hurt her more than she was willing to admit.

“You’re annoying enough.” The urge to strangle you was strong. Minho read between the lines and he wasn’t happy about the reminder of another person from his past.

“I know, I’m charming.” You flipped your hair in response, unbothered. You weren’t the same girl he used to know; his words didn’t bother you as much as it used to. But then, you smiled at him. “Good to see you too, Minho. Glad to see you’re still the same.”

Minho shook his head in both annoyance and relief. He took few steps towards you, surprising you and his friends. You didn’t know what to expect of him because, well, he was quite an unpredictable man. He took you completely off guard as he hugged you.

You froze in his arms. Minho had never hugged you, not even when you were still friends. And yet, it felt nice, warming your heart. You hugged him back and closed your eyes to savour the moment. The last words you had exchanged were mean and hurtful one that had left a bitter taste years later.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, making sure that only you could hear him.

Soyeon gasped loudly. Minho let go of you and went back to the grill as if nothing had happened. He completely ignored his friends’ prying eyes.

***

“I am so confused.” Soyeon told you later as you left the two men to grab a drink. “I didn’t know Minho was a hugger.”

You snorted at that. “He’s not.”

Soyeon frowned at you, unconvinced. “He hugged you.”

“I’m aware.” You could see it how badly Soyeon was trying not to flood you with questions about you and Minho. It amused you to tease her and make her wait.

“Okay! That’s enough. Spill it!”

You checked your watch and smiled. “Consider me impressed. You lasted two whole minutes.”

Soyeon blinked, bewildered, and then she scoffed. “You sound a lot like him right now. So are you sure he’s not your ex?”

Imagining you and Minho together – you winced. “Hell no. We used to be friends.”

You didn’t want to elaborate. You didn’t want to tell her the whole story because there was no way you could tell her without mentioning Jisung. Five years later and it was still a sensitive topic. Five years later and your heart still ached at the thought of him. You wished you were fully over him, but truth was, you weren’t. No matter how hard you tried to get over him, how hard you tried to meet new people and give men a chance – you had failed every single time.

“He’s my ex-boyfriend’s best friend.” You finally admitted.

Soyeon, bless her, didn’t make any comment. She understood from just one look at you that it was a subject you weren’t willing to talk about. Not yet. And she respected that. Instead, she gently grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. “If it’s get too much and you decide to leave, I won’t get mad, I promise.”

***

You came out of the bathroom feeling better. Obviously meeting Minho again brought back some unwanted, buried deep inside your head, memories but you refused to let your emotions and your past control you. You refused to let those memories ruin the lovely afternoon with Soyeon. But maybe, it was just the universe trying to convey a message and maybe you should have paid more attention to it.

Lost in your thoughts, you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings which ended with you bumping into someone. Stunned, you almost lost your footing. Fortunately for you, the person grabbed your arm and steadied you before you could make more acquaintance with the floor.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You apologized, wincing at your own stupidity.

“Y/N?”

Your heart dropped at the sound of this familiar, warm voice. Slowly, you raised your head, terrified of what you would see. Your heart clenched painfully at the sight of Han Jisung, still holding your arm, standing too close to you.

You cleared your throat and awkwardly took a step back, putting some very needed distance between the two of you. “Hi Ji.” And yet the moment he let go of you, you almost whined at the loss of his warmth.

Something was wrong with you.

“It’s good to see you.” Jisung smiled but couldn’t look you in the eyes. Apparently, you weren’t the only nervous one. He rubbed his nape, maybe trying to ease the tension or maybe he was trying to find his words. Just like you. You didn’t know what to tell him. Good to see you again? How have you been? Did you miss me like I missed you? There was so much you could say but no words left you or him.

“There you are!” Soyeon’s sweet voice echoed from behind Jisung and you never felt so much relief in your life. “I was looking for you everywhere!” She slapped his arm for good measure.

It was hard not to smile at how close they were or how Jisung winced at the slap, rubbing the now sore spot. “I was hiding from your punches.” He muttered.

“What was it?” She asked, looking sweet and innocent but her eyes were promising him a very slow and painful death if he dared to go against her. It was only when you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling that Soyeon noticed your presence. “Y/N! Sorry, was I interrupting?”

“Nope.” You avoided Jisung’s eyes on purpose; you knew that the moment you would looked at him all your emotions would show on your face and you didn’t want to explain it tonight. “He was saving me from a nasty fall.”

Soyeon cocked a brow, not fully convinced as her eyes darted back and forth between Jisung and you. “Are you sure you weren’t the one doing the saving?”

“Hey!” Jisung protested loudly.

***

For the rest of the afternoon and by some miracle you managed to avoid both Minho and Jisung. You were pretty much aware of their presence and you definitely caught them watching you more than once - you ignored it. It wasn’t easy but you stuffed your feelings deep inside you, refusing to let them have control over you. At least for today.

By the time the sky got darker, Soyeon’s little party turned into something more intimate with the soft music playing on the background. Some people started dancing and you were no exception as Chris invited you. How could you say no when he smiled so prettily at you? Out of all the people you had met this afternoon, he was definitely one you would keep in touch; you truly enjoyed his company and how easy-going he was.

“I know it’s not my place to say it, but is by any chance Jisung your ex-boyfriend?” He asked after a moment.

You almost stumbled, taken aback.

Chris chuckled and his grip around you tightened just in case. “He has been staring at us for the past ten minutes, throwing daggers. I figured since you know Minho, you had to know him too and-“ he cleared his throat, “Sorry.”

You laughed and shook your head in amusement. “You’re good, detective.”

Chris’s eyes softened as he looked over your shoulder, at Jisung and then back at you. “There’s another reason why I figured you’re his ex-girlfriend. But I guess, it’s something he’ll have to show you himself.”

That made you curious. You shouldn’t be, especially not when it concerned Jisung but there was just this odd feeling inside you that told you there were some unfinished business between the two of you.

“It was lovely meeting you.” Chris let go of you with a nice and warm hug.

You understood all too late why he was suddenly leaving you when you felt Jisung’s presence right behind you. He cleared his throat. “Would you like to dance with me?”

You faced him, wanting to say no for the sake of your sanity and heart but one look at him and there was absolutely no way you could say no. You never managed. “Sure.”

To say that feeling his hands on you felt weird yet so incredibly familiar and warm would be an understatement. Your body reacted to him like it used to, seeking more of his warmth and more of his touches. But you quickly realized that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed with turn this afternoon took. Jisung looked nervous judging by how his grip kept tightening as if he was scared that if he didn’t hold you tighter you would vanish. As if you were just an illusion of his own mind.

“Why so nervous, Ji?” You joked in hope to break the tension.

“Honestly? Because I didn’t think you would agree to dance with me.” He admitted, wincing at his own words. “Or talk to me.”

You rolled your eyes in response. “I’m petty but not that petty.”

Feeling a little bolder, Jisung leaned closer. “Sure about that?”

You slapped his arm playfully.

“How have you been?” Jisung asked.

“Good.” But lonely you wanted to add. “Work, life, friends, repeat.” You actually laughed at the terrible description of your life. It sounded bad when it really wasn’t. You had everything, well almost everything, you needed and ever wanted but it still didn’t feel enough. “You?”

“Remember how I started learning to dance?” Jisung hesitated the moment he mentioned the past. There were many memories he cherished but there were some, he wished he could erase and start over. “I actually started a band with Minho, Chris and other guys.”

“No way!” You gasped loudly. It shouldn’t surprise you that Jisung with his love for music would form a band, but it still amazed you how far he got. “That’s really impressive!”

Jisung’s pretty face coloured with pink making him even more cute to you.

“I’m actually trying to convince Changbin to join us. Have you heard his rap? He’s a real deal.” Jisung groaned, “But he told me he’s going to block me if I keep pestering him.”

You easily pictured Changbin’s annoyance. “He refused?” This, however, made you pause. You had heard in the past how well his rap battles with Jisung were. “Why?”

“Something about not wanting to take risks in life.”

That just didn’t make sense. It didn’t sound like the Changbin you knew. He wasn’t the wildest in your group of friends but whenever he wanted something he would just go for it. So why would he hold back now? The answer was quite easy and it didn’t sit right with you. “That’s odd.”

“I know.”

#stray kids #han jisung #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #lee know #han #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff

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cloudninetonine · 11 months

Text

This had to stop happening.

Losing the Chain was becoming some sort of betting case now. When would it happen next? 10 rupees within the hour, 50 rupees within the next day- hell, if one of the boys had come up to you with such a bet you would have dropped your own gems in with an educated guess. It would be fun in that moment but definitely not in practice, losing your friends and with it your main source of protection.

A random Hyrule, barron of life with only the decaying ruins of what there once was. No one liked such a place, it only brought horrid feelings. The surroundings were almost grey, void of any colour, of any life- something that only made a shiver crawl up your spine. It almost mimicked Wild’s Hyrule in a way, but the Champion’s home still held strongholds, society was disproportionate but the landscape still thrived. Flowers, animals, the fae and so much more; this was merely a wasteland. Quiet. Dead. Gone.

You couldn’t even hear the beating of an insect's wings.

It was the rain that tore you away from the rest. A decomposing, wooden bridge that stood crooked over a wailing stream, the currents crashing against its mossy beams and the rocky outside that made the river banks. It was surely intimidating, it took quite a bit of pull from Twilight to have Epona even consider trotting over the structure and that did not make you feel the slightest bit better. Animals had intuition and to go against such a thing would lead to certain turmoil.

But it was your only option.

That didn’t make it the right one.

Thunder roared. Lightning struck. You held tightly onto Hyrule’s hand in a desperate attempt to stay calm.

It was almost like a movie scene.

A strike from the heavens laid waste upon a tree just by the bridge, the old oak quickly bursting into a blazing red that groaned as it burned. Forever hungry, the fire ate at the stump of the old bark before the next moment you knew, the timber came hurtling towards the bridge. It was instantaneous, the men around you letting out a few yells of surprise or shock then doing their best to avoid the incoming disaster- but it had been too late.

It splits the middle on the bridge and took a few of you with it.

You could just catch a glimpse, watching Sky stumble back before veering too far to the right. Wild had tried to catch him, he really did try but both men went tumbling into the currents below grasping desperately at each other for leverage. Legend had also fallen prey to the accident, with a curse of the goddesses he collapsed through rotten wood with his voice fading out as he submerged into the depths, Twilight’s hand still held out to grab him when Epona yanked roughly at his fur hood to bring him back.

Hyrule’s face looked horrified when your cloak had been snagged by a branch, tightening his hold, he yelled your name with panic shining in his eyes. Hyrule’s swimming wasn’t the best, you knew that. The incident with chuchu had just been pure instinct, adrenaline running through his veins with his only thought about saving you.

It was pouring, the rapids were deadly and you were not about to drag him to his certain doom.

Even if it meant you were about to drown.

Hyrule would not let go- he would never. So in a last ditch effort you raised your leg and kicked him back to the safety of a stable surface.

He screamed your name, frantic and scared as you were dragged down towards the murky depths, the boys rushed with calls to the others also in a panic while trying not to fall in themselves.

You inhaled as much air as possible before your head finally met the water, flailing your arms to fight the currents. It was practically impossible, your body spinning wildly with the flow as you fought to break the surface. You bobbed: in and out, in and out, in and out- the noise around you loud each time you were able to catch your breath.

A random boulder was what took you out, your temple smashing against it harshly and staining the water red as your skin broke from the tension-

And just as quick as the lightning had struck, your vision was lost, your body fell limp and you succumbed to the darkness of the stream.

You had no idea how you had survived. Maybe Hylia was looking down at you and offered her own blessing- waking up on a sandy bank with water swimming in your lungs, you hacking frantically to rid yourself of the nauseous feeling until finally you could properly breathe again. Face against the sand, panting with the burning of your lungs- it took awhile to finally start to move, still with the aching of your bones, the churning of your stomach and the trickle of blood that still ran down your forehead.

It was still raining. Still storming. Every flash of lightning, every boom of thunder made you flinch- overly sensitive to your surroundings as you glanced around for possible shelter.

The luckiest part was that you had found a village; the unfortunate part was that you had found a dead village.

Skeletal remains of Hylians scattered the streets, broken and forgotten as you wandered around meekly trying to not linger on the dead. A battleground, battered and beaten from what you weren’t sure, but it was clear it had been brutal- damage at every corner, the houses almost torn down or simply gone, only the slightest bit of foundation an indication of what had stood there before. The scraps of monster horns and occasional skull branded weapon was your biggest hint to what had come- but a hoard big enough for a village? No, that couldn’t be right. Monsters couldn’t render a whole village like this defenceless, not in the sizes that they usually came in, this- this-

It had to have been an army that had marched through this town.

And that’s what scared you the most.

“What the fuck…” Your face curdled in horror upon catching the sight of a primal spear stabbed right through the mouth of a skeleton, the wood splintered snapped at the gaping crack at the back of the skull- it was a vile visual. “Oh fucking god.”

Quickly you paced away. Not wanting to stay stuck on such a sight, a gruesome idea of what sort of torture the poor soul had felt in their dying moments. It made sense that only a monster could be so brutal, but the sheer reality that an army of monsters had come storming in with a straight intent to kill probably scared you more than the thought of monsters being around you now.

What could cause such an overwhelming hoard?

Turning another corner you spotted what you were looking for- a stable home. The rocks that made up it’s foundation had certainly been scathed but it still stood proud compared to the others all the different states of ruin. A chimney was available, hopefully a bed would be accompanying it and you hoped that within the next day the boys would be able to find you, or you them.

Glancing around you quickly jogged over, the pounding of rain hiding the slamming of your boots in the mud as you made your way over. Quietly and warily you tugged at the door, finding only relief when it moved without much resistance and slid into the darkness of the house without another word.

It was dark, it was cold but you thanked the stars, It somehow wasn’t damp. There was certainly dust over every surface, a quick stroke of the tables and the chairs showed as much, but you weren’t about to complain when your body felt like a heavy weight ready to collapse any second. A meteor rod was your only source of light as you did a quick once over of the place, checking cupboards, under the bed and in the wardrobe ready to swim your rod like a bat if any monster dare jump you in that moment.

There was nothing, and with nothing came the overwhelming feeling of sleep.

You made sure to secure yourself of course- the door locked with a chair pushed under the handle. The same done to the smallest bedroom in the house with the curtains pulled shut along with the windows locked too- you tripled checked everything before you even attempted to settle down.

No fire for no attention, you simply curled under the (thankfully) thick blanket and willed your own body heat to keep you warm in this desperate time. The slight dampness to your clothes did not help (the meteor rod’s heat could only do so much without causing a possible burn to you or fire to the surroundings) but you could only deal with it.

You relaxed into the comfort of a mattress, your eyes growing droopier by the second before once again you were met with the darkness of unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~

You were awoken to…nothing, or at least what you thought was nothing. Warm and comfy, exhaustion stayed clung to you like thistles to wool, blinking in confusion with a small tired sniffle as you listened carefully to your surroundings. The storm prevailed, just like it had been for the past 2 days, so it was a little harder to focus.

Maybe you were just nervous, the jitters affecting your sleep? Maybe you were awoken by another clash of thunder? Or just maybe-

The floorboards creaked outside the room.

….maybe someone was in this house with you.

Rationality deduced that it was merely a round sound within the house. It was old, it was withered and that’s what old withered houses did. They creaked, they made noise, sometimes the walls would groan as it lost more strength to the elements. That didn’t mean that there was someone outside your room.

The doorknob jiggled for the slightest moment.

But that certainly did.

Wide awake, you sat up quickly then cringed at the rustling of the sheets. It would be hard to hear such a sound through the walls, but this was a mediaeval house- if you could hear the floorboards outside, whoever was out there could hear the sound of your movement.

Panic clawed at your throat along with panicked tears clouding your eyes. This was bad- really bad- cornered in a small room without almost no way out. The window would only alert them, and they would have time to run outside the house to catch you squeezing through. Sure, you had the chair under the door but that could only do so much to stop someone- especially if that someone had claws.

You had to fight. It was the only option, your hand diving for your meteor rod just beside you which subtly roared to life at the touch of your fingers. You weren’t good at fighting, you still had so much to learn, but you were not about to die at the hands of some beast. No, you refused- you had made it this far, this wasn’t a place to die!

Leaving your items, you tiptoed gently towards the door and stood beside the wall next to it. From this angle you would be hidden by the frame, waiting for your perp to come into view before blasting them to high heaven with the magic that buzzed in the rod. It was dangerous but it was your only option. Dirty was all you could manage, you didn't have the skills to use your dagger, the nuclear way was your only way.

The sound of the lock clicked in your ears and you wondered what it could have possibly been. A lizafols could have used its claws. You knew this from some stories that the boys had shared: those lizards were the intelligent monsters- dangerously intelligent. You were reminded on that one scene in Jurassic Park with the raptors and their terrifying clicking talons, their hissing and clicks echoing through your mind.

Maybe it was from tools, a person standing on the other side. Your team hadn’t come across anyone from your few days in this place- but then again you hadn’t come across anything. If a human lived in this wasteland, what kind of person would they be? Savage from the isolation or desperate for more than just the trees.

The doorknob turned slowly, akin to that of the movies, horror radiating from the mechanical clicking on the releasing lock as it was finally open to the awaiting intruder.

They pushed the door; it got caught by the chair.

You hoped that maybe you would be safe from that. They would take it as a sign to leave. Take it as a sign that there was no entering that room- but the more force exerted and the furniture finally fell to the floor with a ‘bang’, your eyes widening at the pause before it continued, the wood scraping against the floor.

Footstep. Creak. Footstep. Creak. Footstep. Creak.

They were tall, not overly but just a few inches taller than yourself. Their cloak pulled over their head to hide both their face and their hair with an intimidating sword strapped to their back.

Praying to Hylia, you wished your boys to save you from this nightmare before swallowing your fear and presenting your meteor rod towards your intruder.

“Are you afraid?” You inhaled, tears once again clouding your vision as fear settled over your bones- you did not move your weapon. “You needn’t be- I only came here to check for monsters, I promise that I had no intention of harming you.”

A smooth voice, deep but also soft with his words.

You didn’t respond.

Slowly, the man turned. Taking precaution not to push on your buttons more than he already had- you were terrified, you were armed and with one wrong move he could have been running from this room in flames if you really wanted him to.

His face was obscured by both a hood and the darkness, but you could see the fire reflect off his eyes.

They looked light- a possible blue combating the red of your rod.

“I’m sorry for causing you alarm. I wanted to take refuge from the rain but this was the only standing home left.” His hands stayed down, in your sight by his hips. “I wanted to check for any beasts, I was unaware of your presence and for that, I apologise.”

His hand gently came to rest on his chest, over his heart as he lightly bowed his head.

You didn’t get any bad vibes from him.

“It has been many years since I have seen another human.” Your eyebrows pinched at that, watching him carefully as he stood straight once again with his eyes focused on your figure. “I thought I was the only one left, after the Great War- it is sad to know that the goddess could not evacuate everyone on time.”

….What was he talking about?

He looked surprised, “What do you mean? You do not know?”

Your eyes widened, “....did I say that out loud?”

The confusion in your tone shocked him before a small amused huff left him. “It seems so.”

You shrunk under his intense gaze- “I’m…I’m not from around here.”

Why did you say that? Why did you feel…comfortable saying that? It was almost as if the tension had vanished in the blink of an eye. You didn’t feel uncomfortable, you didn’t feel scared, you felt- you felt safe. Like you were with just another of the boys, like you weren’t with a stranger in some random house, you were okay.

What was this?

“Oh? And where exactly are you from?” It wasn’t accusatory, more curious than anything. “I thought the Demise’s Conquest had reached the entire world.”

Your heart stopped.

“Did…did you just say Demise?”

The man paused- he looked even more confused and curious. “Yes, the Demon King, he brought calamity to the surface- it seems you do not know much of history.”

….you had fallen into the period after Demise? DEMISE!? This wasn’t just scary this was terrifying, knowing you had just scarcely missed the war with the greatest villain known to history and the creator of the damned reincarnation cycle that haunted Sky and the many boys for centuries. This wasn’t possible, right? For Dink to open a portal this far back?

But then again, if he could hop into another world, anything was possible, right?

“I’m aware of Demise I’m just…surprised.”

If you had just missed Demise, you had just missed Hylia and if you had just missed Hylia, you had just missed….

“Surprised?” He cocked a bro, “What is there to be surprised about?”

You bit your lip.

“I just am.”

“What an odd thing to be.”

You huffed, “...Demise isn’t still here is he?”

The man narrowed his eyes, “Of course not, he was sealed away many years ago.”

So this was after him…

“Ah okay- wait.” You narrowed your eyes in return, “That means Hylia raised the land- what are you still doing down here?”

Your could see his shoulders tense up, the light in his eyes dimming just the slightest as memories rushed through his head before he slumped. His voice was almost monotone as he spoke.

“My duty,”

“Duty? But, no one’s here.” You paused, “What duty do you have if no one’s here to keep track?”

“The goddess does not need to be here to know that I keep my word.”

You looked at him. You really looked at him. Duty? The Goddess? What could Hylia have possibly expected of a lone man with a lone sword? There was nothing left to do down here, other than kill monsters, but for what reason? Everyone was gone, there was no one left to protect other than the dirt under your feet-

…

You zoned in on his eyes. A beautiful crystal blue, they shined like stones in the light of your meteor rod. The reflected both pain and passion, fury and honour- this man was a soldier but he was also more than that, you could see it in the light of his gaze. Such a beautiful and pure spark was only reserved for the most courageous of men.

You knew that because you had stared into those eyes before, different shades, different colour but that same burning spark.

“,,,what’s your name?” You asked after a second, hesitant, afraid of his answer. You didn’t want it to be true. You didn’t want to think Hylia would go this far.

But with the pull of his hood, revealing the light blonde hair to you. Showing the crimson red scarf that hung around his shoulders, you knew your assumptions were correct.

“I am Link, knight of the land of Hylia.” He stood taller, “And who are you?”

The First Link.

#lu #linked universe imagine #linked universe x reader #linked universe #player au #a player's aid #lu first x reader #lu first

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aritsukemo · 4 months

Text

Behind Closed Curtains | Freminét

Freminét x HydroArchon!reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! I got inspired to write this a few weeks ago when I read @freminet-writings's hcs about Freminét dating male Hydro Archon!reader but lost motivation and picked this back up so I apologize if this fic seems kinda all over the place or a little awkward! 😓

Also here's the link to that hc. I really liked it and if you like Freminet, I definitely think you should check out @freminet-writings's blog! She makes some really nice fluffy hcs/drabbles in my opinion! :D

Crystal rain pours from the sky, dripping it's gems upon anything it could touch and drenching it. It's steady flow produces a serene melody, one that never gets old no matter how many times it's replayed.

As nice as this may be to some, the diver wishes it would stop. If the fairytales hold any weight to them it means somewhere out there, amidst this clear, crystal rain, the hydro dragon weeps, most likely submerged in or surrounded by water, alone and upset. It makes him tempted to chant, to plead with the dragon not to cry and to allow the rain to pass. However, deeming his situation, that wouldn't be appropriate..

"Ah! My most devoted follower! Do tell me, what brings you here at such an hour? I know you yearned to feel the greatness and power that my presence exudes, but you do know that even the most divine must rest, yes?"

Piercing mismatched ocean gaze dressed in gaudy, expensive fabrics and topped off with a matching hat, Y/n de Fontaine sits before Freminét. Their aura of godliness surrounding them like a king's cloak along with a crown of intimidation to go with it that makes them untouchable and unapproachable to some people in the water nation.

However, despite their loud words and even louder demeanor, they sit back and wait. Silently and patiently waiting for him to speak his mind about whatever reason he has to visit them so late at night, hoping and praying that it's something small and not some unexpected disaster.

After all, playing this role has posed to be a problem when it comes to comforting others. Having to constantly talk about being above everyone else.. Most people would take your genuine attempts as you pitying them..

"..I'm sorry for bothering you. I know you're probably tired.." He begins, snapping you away from your thoughts immediately, "I just wanted to check on you."

"Hm?"

"I.. I wanted to make sure you were alright," He clarifies. His voice, although a bit shaky, a little louder and more clear to hear than before.

"Lyney mentioned that you seemed upset about something earlier. I was planning on visiting then, but I didn't want him getting suspicious.. Uhm, a- anyways, are you alright? If there's something bothering you, Y/n, you can tell me. I..don't have the strength or power to promise you that I'll do something about whatever upsets you but I can, at the very least, listen to you talk about what's troubling you.."

Now that's not what you were expecting. Or rather, something you didn't want to expect. It was a small, quick slip from character, that's all. Everyone else in the Opera House brushed it off, why couldn't that magician do the same? Now your boyfriend sits here, concerned and asking questions you can't answer truthfully.

"Hehehehe~! Well aren't you the most adorable little devotee! For you to think that something could bother me, the Hydro Archon and ruler of Fontaine, is both cute and foolishly naïve of you!" You boast before another fit of giggles take over, "Worry not, for I am just fine! Nothing in this world could possibly bother me! Not a human nor a god from another nation.. Hah! Not even Celestia!"

"I understand your concern for me. After all, I'm constantly juggling tasks no ordinary human like yourself could ever imagine dealing with. It must be challenging for me, right? Well you're dead wrong! I am the embodiment of the all powerful! Nothing is hard for me! Hahaha~!"

"..Is that really true?" Freminét asks.

"You dare doubt me?" Y/n retorts, crossing their arms and holding them against their chest.

"No," He answers immediately only to pause, eventually following up with a small, "Well, maybe a little.. But if you're really fine, I'll believe you. Have a good night, Y/n."

And with that he gets up, but to his surprise, the archon before him, the same one who just told him that literally nothing in this world could trouble them, seemed rather distressed. Even going as far as to stand up from their comfortable seat to call out to him.

"Wait, where are you going?" You force out quickly. Freminét halts and looks back. A look of genuine confusion etched on his freckled face.

"I'm going back to the House of the Hearth. I had to sneak out in order to avoid anyone catching me.. I should head back before they find out I'm not in bed. I wouldn't want them to get worried and waste their time looking for me.."

"No!" You shriek. Freminét jumps. You notice and quickly clear your throat, "I- I mean, no..~" You drawl, "You can't, I uh.. I haven't.. Our time here isn't up yet! Yeah.. You can't leave because you haven't spent your full time here yet!"

"What do you mean?"

"W- Well you came here to talk to me and might I remind you that I am a god! When you converse with me, it's tradition to stay for at least a full hour before leaving so that I may properly bless you with good faith and fortune and all of that.."

A stretch, but not entirely false. For centuries, religious families from all over the nation have scheduled meetings just to worship you and hear your words of good faith for them and their families, most of which staying for hours on end until they're forced to leave by the Gardes so technically you aren't lying to him. Twisting the truth, maybe. But definitely not lying!

An expression of skepticism crosses the driver's face for a long moment as he mulls over your words in silence. A couple seconds pass, each one making you more and more nervous. After all, there's no official rule or anything that states that he has to stay here so if he really wanted to, he could leave and you'd let him.

Despite what you may say, you can't exactly force him. Anyone else? Sure, you'd have no problem making them do as you please. But Freminét? No, no, no. You see, he's what one would call special. He has leverage over you. Leverage that no one else has. And that leverage is being your beloved partner in secret. If he were to tell or make any indication that he's uncomfortable or upset, you'd do just about anything you could to make him feel better which of course includes letting him leave this Opera House if that's what he'd truly want.

"..Hm, I guess I have no choice but to stay here until time is up.. I've been here for some time so I probably don't have much time left here anyway."

"On the contrary! It's been not but a few minutes since you've sat down so you have a lot more time here than you think." You say.

"But I've been here for almost a half an hour.."

"Archons see time differently than humans, my dear," You explain, "While as time may seem faster to you, it's much different for me. So by my calculations, you still have at least fifty minutes left with me before you can go. Leaving any sooner will count as great disrespect!"

Did that come off too strong? Were you too loud? Ooh.. You hope Freminet didn't feel too pressured by what you said. You just want—no, you need him to stay a little longer. You need to relish in the comfort that his presence brings you just a little longer.

..You want to be selfish just a little longer..please..

Freminet's lips part to speak only to immediately shut. Avoiding eye contact, he walks back over to the couch across from yours and sits down, his eyes remaining glued to the floor. Holding back a sigh, you plop back down on the cushion, staring down at your gloved hands which are clasped together in your lap.

Now you've done it. You should've just stayed quiet and let him leave! Now he's uncomfortable and you two are sitting in this awkward silence that's absolutely killing you!

How can you fix this? Should you resort to flattery? Agh, no. Freminet wouldn't like that. Should you just carry on conversation? What would you talk about.. The sea, maybe?

"Tell me, how has your little companion been faring? I noticed that you didn't bring him with you," You inquire, not ready to look up and see his face just yet and deciding to keep your gaze fixed on your hands.

Freminét looks up, a little surprised. You were interested in Pers? And here he thought you were silently judging him for carrying him around all of the time..

"He's doing fine. I left him back at the House of the Hearth to keep Thelxie company. Although..I was reluctant in doing so.."

"Thelxie? Are you referring to the Water Imp in that children's fairytale? How and why would Pers be keeping him company?"

"It's a little complicated.. I've accepted a commission to make a toy and per my commissioner's request, I've named the toy Thelxie," He explains.

"Hm, I'll admit that you've peaked my interest," You gain the courage to look back up at Freminét. Deciding not to comment on the way he immediately looks away from you upon locking eyes with you, "You've mentioned before that you don't take commissions and prefer to work at your own pace without feeling pressured. What about this commission is so different from the rest? Well, besides the fact that you're basing the toy off a children-eating water imp from a children's tale."

It takes a moment for Freminét to respond and when he finally does, he speaks in a lower tone, "I.. hm.."

"What is it?" You ask, "I know me being interested in things other than an excellent performance is hard to come by and I've been told of the pressure one feels with faced against my expectations, but you should at least try to answer my questions."

"I'm sorry," Freminét mumbles quickly, beginning to fiddle with the skin of his fingers, "But.. For the sake of her privacy, I can't really go into any further detail about this.."

And the silence returns and oh, how you've come to absolutely despise it since your relationship with the diver began. You want to say something. You even fix your lips, waiting for the words to come to you, but they don't. Leaving you looking rather dumbstruck as a result.

What is wrong with you? He's just a person. Someone without any kind of intimidating aura or power to him so why are you hesitating? Since you can't talk about the commission, change the subject. Simple and easy, right?

Don't be so scared. It's just Freminét. Yes, no reason to be nervous. It's just Freminét. It's just Freminét—

"Can you..hold me?" Wait, what are you saying? That wasn't apart of the script! What are you doing? "Please.. It doesn't have to be for too long and you may leave immediately afterwards if you'd like..I just.. I really would like it if..uhm.."

Face warmed, avoiding eye contact, the light sweating.. What? Have you really reduced yourself to some shy background character who's only purpose in the film is to stammer out stupid sentences occasionally? That's no fit for someone who's been acting for as long as you have. You need to fix this. You need to save this performance!

But what do you say? Nothing's coming to mind. All you have to say is a few simple words with your usual confident tone and then divert the conversation to something else until you can recover completely. That's it. That all you have to do so why are freezing up? Don't tell me you suddenly have stage fright or something. That would be unacceptable.

You've been silent for too long. Any longer and you won't be able to salvage this no matter what you say! So, speak. Say something! Anything—!

Cool hands finally snap you from your thoughts. One snakes around your waist and the other rest on the side of your head. You fall to the side and your stiff body collides with smooth clothing before you can react.

"Is this.. Are you..okay with this position?" His voice comes out as a small whisper, just a bit quieter than normal, "My mother.. She could always tell when I was upset. She would hold me just like this and sing in my ears until I felt better.. I- I'm not a good singer like she was, but I can tell you about some of the clockworks I've been working on lately. I'd probably bore you though.."

This definitely wasn't apart of the script. What should you do? Pull away? Chastise him for touching you so freely? You really don't want to do that. His cool embrace, the smell of the ocean on his clothing that for some reason makes you feel the opposite of the uneasy feeling you'd usually get from smelling seawater.. This feels so nice..safe almost.. Can't you just add this in or something? Surely it wouldn't be too out of character for you to indulge in this, right? Right?

At the dejecting sound of your silence, Freminét's already loose grip loosens even more to the point you barely feel his hands on you, "I'm sorry.. I've never done this so I.." He trails off as he watches you pull his arm so that it wraps around you again. The previous statement he was planning to finish having long been forgotten as he seems more focused on you and how embarrassingly warm his face has gotten than whatever he was planning to say.

You arms hesitantly cage his waist, keeping his body flush against you as you begin mumbling something incoherent under your breath. You bury your face—which is beginning to become unbearably warm itself—into his shoulder and with your mouth closer to his ear, he was finally able to hear you..

"Even archons need to be pampered occasionally, divinity or not. You should be honored to share such close proximity with me and bask in the elegance that is me so, uhm..please stay for as long as you're able.."

With a brief wave of confidence that washes over him, Freminét brings his other hand back up to your head, this time slowly running his fingers through your hair, "Oh..alright," He mumbles against your hair after a while.

Another silence comes creeping in yet it no longer carries that thick, unpleasant air of awkwardness with it. Instead, it's light, almost soothing, just like his touch. It was as if the lights behind the closed curtains had dimmed a little and although it didn't stop your performance, it made it a little more bearable.

He makes things just a little more bearable for you, even though he isn't aware of it.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #freminet #freminet x reader #gn reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #genshin freminet #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin impact x gn reader #freminet x gender neutral reader #freminet x you #fontaine x reader #fontaine x you #fontaine genshin

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eddies-house · 11 months

Text

Whatever She Wants; I Will Do Anything - E.M.

Eddie x fem reader

2.9K Words

Inspired by the song Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers. Or where you’re very good at keeping your guard up and not letting others in only to crumble under the pressure. And Eddie is there to help you put the pieces back together.

Warnings - angsty, depictions of mental illness, dark thoughts

A/N - This shit is emotional and this song has been stuck in my head for days so I had to do something with it. Any feedback is appreciated 🥹

Masterlist

— I would do anything you want me to

I would do anything for you

I would do anything, I would do anything

Whatever you want me to do, I will do

—

If you could pick the scenery to describe your own brain, it wouldn’t be a field of daisies, fresh and heavenly, or rainbows after a light summer rain, sticky but romanticized. It wouldn’t be angelic beach views with sunsets marbling the sky or even the starry night with the moon soaking the earth in its celestial light. No, these things were magnificent, pleasing to look at, easy to take in. Very unlike your brain.

Your idea would be more of a tsunami ripping everything apart, having no mercy on anything in its wake—destroying everything it touches. Emotions receding into the sea quietly before ultimately coming back in a massive wave and disrupting the quaint living of those around. Murky skies and shattered hope. People running, and running far just to avoid the disaster—the impending doom that was you. That is exactly how you’d describe your brain.

Sometimes if you were lucky there were a select few weeks in between the storms of your mind where you’d feel a sliver of relief, a drought in the ever flowing thoughts that dismantled your life. Times where there would be a glimmer of ambition and an inkling of motivation. It never lasted long, fleeing as soon as you were starting to get better. A colossal wave consuming you once again, and people would go running as they always did—the commotion of the storm too turbulent for them to brave.

And the agonizing thoughts would begin to stew at the very core of your brain. Simmering until they boiled over at random.

Too hard to love.

Useless.

Worthless.

Barely a person, a walking corpse devoid of emotion due to the burnout.

Not worthy of love.

Not worthy of anything.

I should have never even made it this far, sixteen years was my limit.

I don’t want to do this anymore, please don’t make me do this anymore.

It was all so daunting, so intimidating and heavy. It truly felt like you did not belong on this earth and there was absolutely no way to combat it other than merely surviving. Days passed and you were trapped in the endless cycle that was existing without purpose.

Your boyfriend, Eddie, sweet Eddie had a life to live and you couldn’t bear to burden him with the sorrows of your aching soul. Eventually he’d realize what a nuisance you were, how crippling your state of mind could be. He didn’t deserve to be detained by the relationship you so thought was out of pity. Ever so generous, kind, enamoring, handsome, loving, gentle, loud, assertive—everything Eddie was made of, was something you believed you never once deserved. You dreaded the day he would glance at you and come to his senses. She is too broken for me, I can’t love her.

The convincing mask you were able to automatically put on was all too familiar. Being able to physically front that you were happy when the reality of it all was that demons swam through your bloodstream and never left, only lying dormant every once in a blue moon only to come back at full force. It felt like poison, the way you would be okay one moment and suddenly in seconds you were grasping onto your sanity, clinging onto any bits of reality—of your mortal self only to be swallowed up by harsh accusations toward yourself that would have you sinking back into your bed for as long as it required. And that’s how you got so good with the mask, forcing yourself to conform to the world around you when you absolutely couldn’t rot in bed, other obligations taking priority despite the poison coursing through your body. A smile on your face, a compliment here, a joke there, sprinkled with some stupid story from the other day that always seemed to appease your audience. It was all fake and no one could sniff it out.

Until Eddie came along and he was able to detect even the slightest shift in your demeanor. Though you could throw the mask on, it didn’t always work with him and he would encourage you to take it off. You never did. Insisting I’m fine, just a little tired. Lying through your teeth. You couldn’t help it, you’d never let your guard down with anyone ever. How were you supposed to when it didn’t even feel like an option? A people pleaser to your core, you’d take your feelings with you to the grave.

The first time Eddie stumbled upon you crying, he was at a loss, not knowing how to approach the situation. Do I hug her? No, what if she doesn’t want me to? Do I hold her hand? Does she want me to leave? Did I do something? What if I made her cry? Does she want to break up? Every thought flew at him at lightning speed, practically slapping him in the face. Before any decision could be made, you sucked back the tears and used your sleeves to aggressively clear your under eyes. I’m fine, I just watched an emotional movie. Lies. Not wanting to push you further, he nodded and held you close. But he knew. You were suffering, drowning in your own fucked up world and he had no idea how to pull you out. When his own mind started suffocating him he could at least voice that he wasn’t having the best day, also being the type to never burden others with his invading thoughts. He’d leave it at that and sulk in his room but you would always sit with him, if he allowed. If not, that was okay too and he was eternally grateful.

The more he studied your behavior when you just felt off, the more he gathered the way you would often go blank during a conversation, eyes becoming void of a human and turning into a shell of yourself as you picked yourself apart internally. Anxiety looming in your eyes and hands the slightest bit shaky, he would touch his fingertips to yours in the smallest touch hoping to lure you back, praying that he didn’t overstep because god he was so scared. And when you did return, you still weren’t fully there although you claimed you were just tired. Again. He just wanted you to be happy. And you wanted to be happy.

It took almost a year into the relationship for you to even be able to ask him to come over when you wanted to just be with him. Before that it just felt like you were pestering him for attention even though that was far from the truth. You could call him just to complain about how your lunch tasted and he would savor every moment. Even still, you had your doubts about calling him or texting him, the nasty demons lurking within you telling you he didn’t care. Eddie picked up on your patterns from the very beginning and learned that the way you worded things really indicated your mood, if you were genuinely doing well or if things were bad again. A simple phrase popping up on his phone and he would bolt to you if he had the slightest inclination that you were in a pool of your own self deprecating thoughts.

Are you home? Really meant, I need you, I need you and I’m too afraid to outright say it.

Are you busy? Either meant that you wanted to go on a gas station run with him or that you wanted to vent about your family.

Want to come over? Generally translated to I’m in a good space right now and would love to spend time with you.

I love you. Told him I’m thinking about you.

Love you. Was an indicator that you were on edge, it could be because of him depending on the nature of the situation or it could just be a bad day.

Food? Was the phrase used to tell him I’m hangry and we better be getting Mexican food otherwise you better suggest something that sounds yummier.

I’m fine. Was as clear as day. I’m the opposite of fine.

So when it’s ten o’ clock at night and the cicadas are chirping outside his trailer, his fingers dancing along the neck of his guitar to a new riff he recently learned and he sees his phone light up with your name, he eagerly reaches over to pick it up and read. His eyes scan over three key words.

Are you home?

Immediately he’s setting his guitar on top of his mattress, calling you as he scrambles around his room searching for his car keys, finally locating them underneath his copy of Lord of the Rings he had been rereading earlier, tossing the book aside. The dial tone rings through his ears a few times, heart beating fast. On the other end, a meek little hey is heard along with a sniffle that you swore you would hide.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice is laced with concern while he makes his way out to the living room to collect his leather jacket.

“I-I-nothing. I just—wanted to hear your voice.” Part of it is a lie. Everything is wrong and your world is crumbling as you stare out the window lifelessly. Panic is taking over while you endure thoughts about your past, present, and future. Why did I say that one thing that one time? I’m such a bad person. I should have never been born, that way I could save everyone the embarrassment. You’re instigating yourself and there’s no sign of stopping. Eddie would be happier without you, he’s too good for you, good things don’t happen to you without a price. Bullet after bullet hits your soul.

“I’m coming over.” He tells you without giving you the option to say no, the line going silent as he hangs up. This only coaxes more humiliating things out from the depths of your brain. See what you did? You ruined his night, now he’s on his way over and he’s probably so mad. He has so many better things to be doing than sitting with a cry baby.

The sobs rack your body, chest heaving and vision completely blurred with hot tears traveling down your face. You’re shaking, the words assaulting you over and over. Even if you wanted to stop crying you couldn’t, the dam was flooded. It was an oversight on your part, you didn’t need to text Eddie but you did it out of impulse. Everything suddenly becomes so overstimulating, so gross and uncomfortable. The way your clothes hug your body makes you wince, rubbing your arms to somewhat soothe yourself but it only does so much. The clutter on your bedside table aggravates you all of the sudden but there’s not any energy to straighten it up, leaving you sitting on the bed in full on breakdown mode. You’re now way too aware of your own body, yearning to immediately cease existing. A blanket once thrown over your legs is now tossed across the room, the material now disgusting you. Everything becomes unbearable.

So unbearable that you don’t even hear Eddie using his key in your front door, the hinges squeaking as he enters, or the click of the lock as he locks it again before rushing upstairs, his boots stomping on every other step. You don’t hear the bedroom door creak open as he carefully approaches, toeing off his boots near the door and then speaking to you.

“Sweetheart, what’s goin’ on?” His tone is gentle enough to soothe a baby. Shrugging his jacket off and tossing it on a nearby chair, he slowly strides closer to the bed but still keeps his distance.

All you can do is cover your face in your pathetic palms, attempting to hide away the misery you have become. A wet and whimpered I don’t know is made out from you muffling the words into your hands. His heart shatters. All he wants to do is hold you but only if you’ll allow him to. The last thing he wants to do is make it worse. The last time he saw you cry was also the first time and you’d sucked it up and brushed it off like it never happened. This was drastically different, you were a puddle of tears and snot, sobbing uncontrollably and unable to hold back any longer.

“Baby. Look at me. Just for a minute, okay?” He’s trying to convince you but you shake your head, palms still gathering tears. “Please? Please?” He begs, voice hoarse as he tries to map out a gameplan in his head. It still falls upon deaf ears. “I need you to look at me. If I’m going to help you, you need to look at me.” He leans over the bed attempting to catch your eyes. “I need you.” He speaks desperately, his own eyes becoming wet. For some reason, the phrase makes you stop for a second, makes you freeze. If he needed you, then you were going to give him anything he wanted, anything he needed. It was some type of reverse psychology that he hadn’t even realized he performed. You were falling apart but the moment he begged for help you stopped everything to be by his side.

Shock written in his features, he looks at you while you look at him, big doe eyes full of anxiety and worry. The atmosphere was stagnant at that moment. Hiccups erupted out of you but your full undivided attention was on him. He pondered his next moves carefully, not wanting to scare you off or chase you back into your corner. His next words were spoken with the utmost care.

“Tell me what you need me to do.” His voice was shaky and his eyes blinked rapidly. “I—I’ve never done this before. Please tell me what you need.” His voice wobbled on the last few words as you tried to process everything. “Whatever you want me to do, I will do.” The way his tone wavered broke you, choking out a sob before stopping yourself. You did this to him. So you force yourself to provide an answer, it’s the least you could do.

Voice cracking, you reply “Hold me.” The dam continues flooding, sending a river down your cheeks. He’s quick to crawl across the bed and gather you in his arms like the most fragile thing he’s ever held. Arms wrap around your middle to pull you in between his legs, pulling your back flush against his chest as you then maneuver your body to curl into him like he’s your bunker, face buried in his chest and trembling hands fisting his shirt.

“I’m right here, I’ve got you. I’m here.” Whispered reassurances against the top of your head as you soak his shirt in a mixture of tears and snot. He lets you cry for as long as you need, as long as you want.

“I’m always here for you. Okay? I would do anything for you.” He promises, stroking your back soothingly, placing a kiss to your temple. Everything about you is so ugly in the moment and yet, he’s so patient and warm. So attentive and loving. His gestures begin to chip at the walls you built around yourself so long ago. It would take time but he’s made the first cracks in those sturdy walls and he would spend forever helping you tear them down.

The sobs and hiccups begin to settle down, not completely but enough that you have some composure. Your wide eyes stare into his kind ones. You’re forced to recognize the unconditional love swimming in his eyes. The genuine concern for your well being and his necessity for your comfort and happiness.

“I love you.” An offer through your tears of that same love on a silver platter that he would gladly indulge in. Hand brushing against the bottom of your chin, tilting it ever so slightly while the other rests on the small of your back, he delivers a nudge of his nose against yours, a piece of his heart.

“I love you. I will always love you.” His words have a greater meaning, an oath that even through the bad times, the times where you were isolated and hated yourself, kicking yourself to the curb, he would be right there to help you back up. A brush of his thumb against a rogue tear on your cheek has you hanging onto his every action. The way he continues to use his thumbs to clean up any remnants of sadness that had been acquired over the last hour or so. How his lips curl up in fondness when you brush your fingertips along his stubbly cheek. A whispered thank you against his skin. When he lays back and pulls you onto his chest, his breathing lulling you into a post cry sleep that you very well needed, one hand running up and down your back and the other tracing shapes into your arm—calloused fingers providing every bit of comfort needed. How his lips press a kiss to your forehead. The scary thoughts were at bay for now and Eddie would without a doubt help you to battle them the next time they invaded your mind, whether it be tomorrow or next week. His words have you melting, insides gooey and sticky when he thinks you’re fast asleep but you’re really still clinging onto these last waking moments as you mold into each other.

“You’re everything I could ever ask for. I would do anything for you.”

~end~

Masterlist

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #vics blurbs #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader

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mixelation · 1 year

Text

okay i wrote a scene from the reborn au. here's team disaster

Tori sat in the grass, her water canteen propped up between her knees. A stack of mismatched bento boxes Kushina-senei had “lovingly” filled with food sat next to her. Kushina-sensei herself paced the grass in front of Tori, occasionally blocking her view of Deidara and Itachi beating the snot out of each other.

Tori had been aware, in her previous life, that Itachi and Deidara were simply on a different level from other ninja. Now this knowledge was even more acute. Itachi’s form was perfect and deadly. Deidara’s style was more lax but just as quick and lethal. They frequently blurred in front of her, moving too fast for her eyes to track, and she knew this is just them fucking around because Kusina-sensei told them to spar. She couldn’t imagine a world someone like her could keep up.

Kushina pouted as she paced, occasionally shooting Tori a look like she expected Tori to do or say something. Maybe she wanted Tori to ask questions, or to demand to be taught the crazy spinning kick Itachi just used to knock Deidara over.

Tori smiled back at Kushina. It didn’t bother her too much that she wasn’t some sort of genetic freak like Itachi and Deidara. Sure, she’d like to be able to keep her own in a fight if one happened to happen to her, and using ninjutsu would be cool, but her motives for becoming a shinobi of Konoha had very little to do with wanting to kick ass and a lot more to do with wanting a soft, safe bed at night and a whole research department to exploit during the day.

(Also, Kushina’s cooking was pretty good. The free lunch was a nice bonus.)

Besides, if Tori decided she wanted to kill some ninja that was out of her league, she’d figure out her own way to make it happen. She’d done it before with less.

Itachi finally cracked a tree trunk with Deidara’s head, and Kushina-sensei paused her pacing, propping a hand on her hip. Her brows furrowed minutely, but it wasn’t out of concern for Deidara. No, Tori was positive that Kushina-sensei was frustrated because Itachi and Deidara needed no coaching or teaching from her whatsoever.

Tori felt a little bad for her. Kushina-sensei was kind of pushy and loud, but she enthusiastically presented them with a homemade lunch everyday, and she’d seemed so excited to teach them that first day. It wasn’t fair that she got handed a team with two ninja that were secretly S-ranked missing-nin instead of cute genin who actually needed her guidance. That was why, when Kushina-sensei shot Tori another look, Tori hopped to her feet and clapped her hands together in the world’s worst applause.

“Nice hustle, Itachi!” she called.

Itachi turned to stare at her over his shoulder, like she’d said something a little bit stupid. If she didn’t already know him, Tori thought this expression would be a bit intimidating. Unfortunately for Itachi, she’d met infinitely scarier people. She clapped harder.

Deidara was mostly unharmed, except for maybe his ego. He shoved Itachi as they walked up the hill to meet Kushina-sensei and Tori.

“Next time we use jutsu, yeah!” Deidara declared. “Then you’ll be eating bark.”

“Uh-uh, not unless we get a higher clearance training ground, you know,” Kushina-sensei chided, now with both hands on her hips. “Okay, since Itachi won, he spars Tori next.”

There was a long, awkward pause.

“I’d rather not,” Tori said.

Kushina-sensei just raised her eyebrows at her. “Well, you’re gonna,” she replied.

“I won’t break anything,” Itachi added solemnly.

“I don’t want to,” Tori insisted. “I don’t see what the point would be.”

She was just going to make a fool of herself. She’d be okay with a proper teaching spar– the kind where the more experienced shinobi carefully guided the spar. She didn’t trust Itachi or Deidara to have the slightest idea how to do this. Kushina-sensei was ordering her to go let Itachi kick her ribs in for no reason.

“Kid, I am your Jounin sensei, you know,” Kushina-sensei told her, eyes just a little incredulous. “You have to do what I say, no matter what.”

Deidara was looking at her the way he would right before she did any sort of fuinjutsu, like he expected her to accidentally set the grassy field on fire or something. Was talking back to a teacher really so scandalous?

“Do you need a pep talk, girl to girl?” Kushina-sensei pressed, eyes lighting up in a way that Tori did not want to deal with.

“Fine, fine,” Tori grumbled. Meeting Itachi’s eyes, she said, “If you do break something, you owe me dinner for a week.”

Itachi faced her the way Deidara had looked at her sometimes, when they’d been renegade ninja buddies for a month. It wasn’t that he thought she was weak or delicate, or even that Tori couldn’t be incredibly dangerous under the right circumstances, but more that he’d already sorted her into a category of non-combatant. There was an uneasiness in his body language, imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t used to reading him. Itachi still thought of her as a civilian, and one he theoretically liked. Fighting her hand-to-hand was as inconceivable to him as it was to her.

He did proceed to fight her with kiddy gloves on, she thought, because she saw every hit coming even as she failed to dodge. The fight ended with her limping back to the pile of bento, sweaty and bruised all over and slightly embarrassed. This would have almost been better in her old life, where expectations for her taijutsu were in the negatives.

“Okay!” Kushina-sensei cried, sounding more excited than she should be. “Let’s analyze what happened!”

The analysis was basically just Kushina waving her arms and listing things Tori needed to improve, because Itachi’s taijustu was borderline perfect. Tori opened her canteen and took a long chug of water while Kushina-sensei babbled. A couple of insights were useful, but most of it boiled down to “Itachi is just better than you in every way.” It would be humiliating, Tori thought, if she were actually twelve or if she didn’t already have a history with both Itachi and Deidara.

It wasn’t completely not embarrassing, though! For once maybe they could do an exercise Tori would excel at, like having a pleasant conversation with a stranger, or what to do if the scroll you stole was sealed up tight.

Deidara turned his head to hide a smirk at her expense. Tori considered chucking her canteen at him.

“Oh,” Itachi suddenly said, head whipping round from where he’d gotten bored and turned to watch a dragonfly. “Tori, I’ve been meaning to tell you. Your tree-walking is all wrong.”

Tori stared back at him. “What?”

Kushina-sensei practically exploded with joy at the chance at a teaching moment. They were all ushered down the hill and over to the tree line to watch the incredibly mundane sight of Tori walking up a tree.

“What, because she’s slow?” Deidara asked, watching as Tori flipped herself over to stand on the bottom side of a branch. The long braid she’s tied up her hair in dangled centimeters from brushing the grass below.

“I think I’m doing fine,” Tori sniffed. Kushina-sensei too seemed confused about what the problem was. Sure, Tori slipped or mistimed the jutsu sometimes, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t getting better and better with practice.

“No, you’re…” Itachi trailed off, staring at her. Unlike for their spar, he’d activated the sharingan. “You might be doing that in the least efficient way possible. Who taught you?”

Tori glared back at him. She was barely using any chakra to stick herself to trees and buildings nowadays, thank you very much. If she was expected to be even more efficient then she might as well just quit being a ninja now.

“No one taught me,” Tori replied. “It’s just the leaf exercise but on your feet, isn’t it?”

Kushina-sensei’s eyes widened in horror, and Deidara burst into hysterical laughter.

“What?” Tori demanded. She was standing on a tree, wasn’t she?!

“Oh, Tori….” Kushina-sensei said.

As it turned out, tree walking wasn’t just activating and deactivating the leaf exercise to stick plant matter to yourself as you hopped around in a tree canopy, carefully timing sticking and unsticking yourself to the tree with every step. Apparently that was an insane way to do it, and Deidara kept spontaneously choking on his own laughter over how insane a thing to do it was. No, tree-walking only required a thin layer of chakra on the bottom of your shoes, and you could easily stick and unstick yourself without having to constantly adjust it.

It was a team effort to explain this to her, everyone talking at once. Apparently if you’d already solved a problem in the most cursed way possible, everyone wanted to correct you. Still, she managed to parse what she should have been doing from the cacophony of noise.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tori demanded of her feet, glaring down at her sandals as she walked up a second tree, this time with about a million times the ease.

“Wait,” Deidara wheezed, straightening up from where he’d had to lean against another tree he was laughing so hard. “Tori, how have you been water-walking?”

Tori stared back at him, expression dead. “You don’t want to know.”

#reborn au #my writing

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revivemyreverie · 1 year

Text

Who’s the angel here? That’s right, it’s me!”

Twisted from: Darla Dimple, Cats Don’t Dance

Angeline Yurena

ダーレイーン ♡ ユーレナー

cv: Yui Shoji (庄子裕衣)

Nickname(s): Annie Angel, Annie

Technical info.

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Age: 18

Birthday: 09/08

Height: 165 cm (5’5)

Eye Color: Bright Red/Yellow

Hair Color: Blonde with a Pink Strand

Homeland: Playpot City

College Info.

Dorm: Octavinelle

School Year: 2nd

Class: 2E Set 30

Club: Film Studies

Occupation: Student, Actress

Other.

Dominant Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Animal Crackers

Hated Food: Tuna

Dislikes: Animals Allergies

Hobbies: Mini-golf

Talents: Intimidation

UM: Big and Loud

A disaster-based magic. Annie can create temporary earthquakes and floods. The damage done by them is reversed only when Annie decides so.

Dear Devilish Darling

A yellowing newspaper remains pinned to a board…

STUDIO EXPLOSION: WHO IS TO BLAME?

Last week at 6:30 PM, PC Studios went up in smoke, destroying all the stages and sets hundreds children see on TV nearly everyday.

The studio’s biggest show, Angel and the 9th Life, is now cancelled due to it’s young co-host, Dean Kokomo, becoming paralyzed. He was stuck under the studio’s rubble for 21 hours after saving his female colleague, Angeline Yurena, from danger. Many consider it a miracle that both children managed to make it out alive.

Police investigation now reports that the collapse was caused from sabotage. That’s right folks, someone purposefully set up some electrical wires to explode during a children’s performance. But who is to blame? Currently, no fingerprints have been found at the scene, nor has any DNA been recovered thanks to the fires started after the collapse. However, investigators assume it to be foul play from opposing stations.

The studio’s CEOs have decided not to comment on whether their beloved shows will remain on air. But with the hospitalization of one star and the other left traumatized, one thing is for sure— no new episodes of Angel and the 9th Life will be getting released.

♡.

A young child grips the hand of her maid, an ambulance driving away with a familiar face in its back.

“I-I didn’t want him dead, right Miriam?”

“Of course, little angel.”

“Right. I just wanted Dean to get in trouble, so the spotlight was off him for a bit! I just wanted to keep everyone’s attention on me…

The girl’s lip quivers as she begins to sob. The sirens of police cars drown out her confession.

“…That’s all I wanted.”

#angeline yurena #twst oc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst #octavinelle #Octavinelle oc #cats dont dance

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jinisnuggets · 7 months

Text

𝔹𝕒𝕕 𝔹𝕠𝕪 𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕠

ᵖᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᵇᵃᵈ ᵇᵒʸ! ˢᵃⁿ ˣ ᵒʳᵈⁱⁿᵃʳʸ ˢᵗᵘᵈᵉⁿᵗ! ᶠᵉᵐ ʸⁿ

ᵍᵉⁿʳᵉ: ʰⁱᵍʰ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᵃᵘ, ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ, ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ, ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ° ˡᵒᵛᵉʳˢ

ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: 1.8ᵏ

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ˢᵉᵒⁿᵍʰʷᵃ! ʸᵘⁿʰᵒ! ˢᵃⁿ! ᵇᵃᵈ ᵇᵒʸˢ, ᵇⁱᵗ ᵗᵒˣⁱᶜ, ᵗᵒʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍˢ, ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵘˡˡʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ.

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒˡᵈᵉʳ ᵇʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʸᵘⁿʰᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱᵍʰ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵇᵒʸ ᵗʳⁱᵒ, ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃʳᵐ ᵃⁿʸᵒⁿᵉ, ⁱᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ʳᵉᵖᵘᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ��ᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ. ʰᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ, ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ˡᵃⁱᵈ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉˡˡ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃˡˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ.

ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ: ⁱ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵒʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈᵃ ʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ, ⁱ'ˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵈⁱᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵇⁱᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ.

ᵇʳⁱᵉᶠ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵇˡᵒᵍ

You had a reputation.

Not a good one, but not a bad one.

You were a good student, decently popular, and got along with people.

However, some people stayed away from you.

Because your brother… Yunho.

Just had to be a part of the school's bad boy trio.

As you walked down the hall you felt the eyes stare at you… watch your every move, as people in the crowded hallways stepped aside and went silent as you walked to your locker.

You never said you hated the respect they showed for you, what you disliked was the fear they felt upon seeing you.

You opened your locker and started picking your things for your next class, before seeing a hand slam against the locker next to yours, scared from the loud noise you looked over and saw your best friend.

"Your brother skipped class again."

"Again?"

"Yep, think they probably went to the rooftop to get some fresh air."

"Haha, I'm not surprised. They always do that."

"Yeah."

You shut your locker and picked up your books.

"Thinking of it, why aren't you with your brother's influence?"

"My brother's not a bad person, but I felt like that entire bad kid thing wasn't for me. I don't want people to fear me, but guess even so people still do."

"Well, they're bad boys not bullies."

Your classroom went silent as you walked in, people stared at you and started whispering. You surely felt awkward but you didn't think much of it.

You knew what they said about you either way.

Class started but you quickly got bored. You were above average on intelligence and felt like you wanted to step out for a second, you couldn't focus and felt like going somewhere else to chill for a sec might help you.

So you got up and went to the bathroom.

"Hey."

Turning around you came face to face with a guy, definitely older then you, looking like a junior or senior. He was tall, and looked quite intimidating.

"Can I help you?"

"Where is Jeong?"

Immediately you became annoyed, seeming like the only reason you even exist is because of your brother.

"I don't know, look for him yourself."

Before you could turn around you felt a hand slap past your cheek, it was painful, but you gathered courage to look up at him in anger.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I knew it, you're just as crazy as your brother.*

"Watch your damn mouth."

You hissed, putting your hands down and off of your burning cheek.

"Hey you bastard, who gave you permission to hit my younger sister?"

"Until you finally show up."

You looked over at your brother, as he stood a few inches away from the mysterious person who had searched for him.

"I guess hurting your sister is what summons you, maybe I should do it more often."

Yunho's eyes filled with rage.

"Say it again I dare you."

"What if I put it to the test instead?"

Before you could douge it, he threw you onto the ground with yet another slap, but this time.. you felt two arms wrap around you. You heard two muffled voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying.

Until afterwards… when you heard the two sentences be said repeatedly:

"Are you okay?"

And…

"Yunho stop!"

Your eyes immediately shifted on the disaster in front of you, seeing Yunho landing punches on the unknown guy, Seonghwa running towards your brother, you and whoever was behind you also ran over to assist.

Although you managed to control him, you noticed Seonghwa still had to hold the other guy.

"Yn! Are you okay?"

You snapped out of the shock and looked behind you.

"Oh… yeah! I'm fine…"

You stared at the unknown friend of your brother, you had never seen him before… especially not with Yunho.

"Umm… what's your name?"

"Oh me? I'm San."

"San huh.. I've never seen you."

"I've always been here."

He reached out for his pocket and took out a candy, unwrapping it and placing it in his mouth.

"Yn, how long has this guy been harassing you?"

You barely focused on Seonghwa's question, as you were to busy focusing on this new friend called San.

Short black hair, small eyes, perfect cheek bones.

When you thought about it, he was technically perfect in your eyes, he was your ideal type.

"Yn?"

You focused back on Seonghwa and nodded

"Yeah…"

"Yeah?"

"What did you ask again..?"

Seonghwa looked confused, it wasn't typical for you to not pay attention, he's known you for as long as he's known Yunho, it was abnormal.

***

"Yn."

You heard your brother call your name from the kitchen, you got up and walked over.

"How long has he been acting like that?"

"Who? The guy yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Yesterday was the first time he ever came to me."

Yunho looked at the bandage that covered your cheek, which had turned red from the hard hits.

"Yunho."

Yunho looked up at you, his eyes softened and he smiled.

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't you introduce me to the other guy San?"

"You didn't know about him? He's the most popular one out of all of us in the school."

"How long have you known him?"

"Since we got the name of the bad boy trio."

"So like 3 years ago?"

"Yep."

"How come I never knew?*

"You've heard the name before but you didn't pay much attention, the name San is wildly known in the school."

"That's odd…"

"You seem quite interested in him."

"Oh, I didn't mean to sound that way.. I'm just confused"

Yunho's face again softens into a soft smile and light eyes.

You and San got to know each other, until it was practically obvious that you liked him.

San being a part of school bad boys doesn't let his feelings show at all too easily, so nobody really knows if he likes you back.

"Yn!"

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Are you actually with San?"

"..No..?"

"Be careful with him, his reputation doesn't lie. He's broken the hearts of many girls in the past."

"What?"

"What did you expect? Someone that famous to have never had a girlfriend?"

You weren't surprised, your very own brother had dated multiple girls in the past and often he was the one to end it. San was no exception.

"I'm not dating San. We're nothing else but friends, can you leave me alone now?"

"Yn! You can't date him!"

"Listen, if you like him, go tell him. Shoo, go."

Your classmate walks away, you could see the look of anger generated on her face. She just wanted the best for you but you were pretty fed up with her.

_______________________________________

"You're gonna get with Yn?"

"Not yet."

San reached in to grab a candy from his pocket, Seonghwa watched as he did so, concern washing over his face.

"San.. she really likes you.. you can't do this to her.."

San unwrapped the wrapper and placed the candy in his mouth.

"Might as well have a bit of fun with her."

Seonghwa flicked San's head, San immediately looked up at Seonghwa.

"Hey!?"

"Do you know how to do anything but toy with someone?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you even like Yn? Or is this all just another sick plan of yours?"

"Of course I like Yn!"

"Then why toy with her? Betray her trust?"

"Can't I have a bit of fun with her? Before getting with her?"

"It might be too late. She won't love you forever.*

"She might. If she lets go I'll just bring her back."

Seonghwa shakes his head and facepalms himself.

"You do you, but I don't wanna see Yn crying."

"Why does it matter so much to you."

"I've known Yn longer than you.. she's like a little sister I never had."

San looks at Seonghwa and nods, before leaving.

Every single day since then, San would be extremely flirty with girls, when a girl confesses her love he would be flirty with his rejection.

He wouldn't pay attention to what you said and when he did he gave you short answers, this didn't bother you as much as he thought it would, he would start giving you false information just so he could get what he wanted out of you. However this got on your nerves enough.

You couldn't bear the feeling of one of your best friends acting this way…

As you went to the bathroom during class one day, you ran into the trio. However, oddly enough. Greeted everyone but San.

San, confused as ever, stared at you. Seonghwa glared over at him before looking back at you.

"You guys should go, I'll be in here or in class if you need me."

They all nodded except for San, who grabbed your arm as the others left.

"What do you want?"

San got startled by the way you responded.

"I'm sorry, I went too far."

"I don't have time for this right now, let me go."

"I kinda like this personality of yours."

You slapped his hand away and moved aside.

"Okay then, I'll show it to you more often."

It did hurt you to act so coldly to San, he was the one who cared for you the most when you got hurt, he was always there somehow.

You walked away but San grabbed you once again, however this time he kissed you.

A long, warm passionate kiss, as if you guys had known each other for over 10 years.

Your lips melted in the warm feeling of San's lips touching yours, circulating all over your mouth. Sometimes making it to your chin.

You could stay here forever, you never forgot that San was a good person despite his reputation.

"Next time don't play with me, I'm not your doll."

You said in a quite aggressive tone, San looked at you in pure shock as he hesitated for a moment.

"Sorry."

You giggled as you pulled him into a friendly hug, feeling the warmth of his body pressing up against yours.

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luveline · 2 years

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what abt rockstar remus and reader start chatting over the phone and he invites her to a party the band is having perhaps? sirius n james see them together n tease remus maybe (goodheartedly) smthn like that :] also i love ur writing i’ve been following for months now n i literally all of it is always so good never read anything i didn’t thoroughly enjoy from u

thank you so much you're LOVELY!! part two to this but you don't have to read it ♡ fem!reader | 1.3k words

When Remus had asked you over the phone if you wanted to go to a party, you'd said yes before really thinking it through.

"Cool. I'll send someone."

His nonchalance had further disturbed you. Talking to him over the phone is terrifying. He's a hard guy to read when he's sitting right across from you – over the phone feels like slow torture. You'll say something and the line will go totally dead and you'll pull back the phone to check he's still there and catch the end of a laugh. Then he says something stupidly nice, like, Fuck, you're funny, and you have to stop from throwing your phone across the room.

The driver Remus had sent for you has to give your name at the front gate, which is ridiculous. Then he pulls into a driveway big enough for thirty cars, which is more ridiculous, and it's over capacity by double that, all sports cars' worth more money than you'll likely ever see in your entire life. Famous people's parties are insane, to put it lightly.

You linger in the back seat, wondering if you're going to throw up.

"Is everything okay?" The driver asks.

"Do you… You don't know whose house this is, do you?"

"Mary McDonald's," he says knowledgeably. "Mr. Lupin is waiting for you inside."

You take it for what it is, a dismissal. "Right. Sorry. Thank you," you tell him as you climb out.

He has the kindness to roll down a window. "You'd do well to be careful. Celebrities are… a different breed to us," he says cryptically.

You watch him pull away in horror.

This is where it would be great to call Remus, only your phone had died in the car and everything is starting to feel like a total disaster. Through the open door you can see that the house is teeming with people and movement and sound, lights and drinks.

There's two huge bouncers manning the door. You approach the one with the clipboard though you're seriously considering turning around and walking home.

You give him your name and he stares. "With Remus Lupin."

He looks skeptically to your side.

"I think he's inside," you squeak.

The guy checks his list and evidently finds you because you get nodded in.

It's worse once you're actually past the threshold. You've never seen so many people, so many people with so much money. It's clear in everything about them. Designer clothes and perfect hair and better bodies. You feel a little sharp pain of nerves every time you remember whose house this is.

You see a flash of familiar hair and decide to start there. Through a moving crowd of people and shoes that crush your toes to the living room, where Sirius Black stands to the side with an actor you're intimidated by and said actor's model girlfriend. Your two seconds from spinning on your heel when he locks eyes with you and grins. Really grins.

"Hey! Sweet thing!" You freeze. He gestures with his hand. The way he does it, like he's entirely unused to gesturing his hand and not having the person cede his command, is both hot and infuriating. Rockstars, you think wryly.

"Hey," you say, not loud enough. He gets it anyway.

"Now how are you here? We have met before, right?"

"Right. At Devys Centre."

"Right…" He squints and points his glass toward you, his drink sloshing over the edge. "Not stalking me, are you?"

You're suddenly so grateful to him you can't speak. His arrogance, while charming on him, is huge, and it makes you laugh. Your shoulders relax, your jaw softens, the stress of being here and not knowing anybody fading just slightly.

"No, I'm not stalking you."

He steps closer and he smells like expensive cologne, like fake leather worth enough money to look real, like cognac worth a thousand a bottle.

"Then why are you here?"

"She's here as my date," Remus says from behind you.

Which is not what he said on the phone. The word date was never mentioned. Its clarification emboldens you, has you beaming as you turn your head to see him. You've talked over the phone, sure, but that's only been a couple times a week for two weeks, and you only ever met him one time. There's no guarantee that this is going to work. That he even wants you.

"Hey," he says, as if he's said it a hundred times before, as if you're familiar.

You really want this to work.

"Hi," you say, smiling softly.

He dots a friendly kiss over the apple of your cheek and his hand grasps your shoulder lightly as he turns his gaze to his bandmate. His fingers are long. The press into your skin and the pressure is awfully nice. "Where's James?" Remus asks.

"That's what I'd love to know," Sirius says, smooth. He suppresses a smile badly. "I didn't realise we'd be seeing you again," he says to you.

"Go bother somebody else," Remus says. He talks with a casual boredom that Sirius is obviously used to.

"I'm gonna go find Jamie," he says. It's a promise of something but you don't know what.

As soon as he moves Remus is taking his hand from your shoulder. You spin in place to face him and find yourselves very close, his dark brown eyes trained on you, moving a little less than amicably over your figure.

"You look amazing," he says.

You should say the same. You'd managed to forget how good looking he is. You are sorely reminded.

"You too," you say pathetically.

"I tried to call you half an hour ago."

"Sorry, my phone died."

"No, don't be. I was worried maybe this wasn't the best place for a first date. I'm not trying to scare you off so quickly."

You smile and rub your lips together, gloss sticky as you say, "I didn't know this was a date."

"Is that okay with you?" he asks.

His voice enamours you; the lilting cadence of his concern and the genuineness of his question is endearing beyond words.

"Yeah, it's okay."

He smiles and brings a hand to your face, stroking your cheek with the broad of his thumb just once before you're interrupted.

"What's he look so chuffed about?" a loud voice asks.

"Baby's first groupie," Sirius says.

"Don't be fucking disgusting," Remus says. There's a quiet heat there that twists your chest.

"Groupie as in enthusiastic," Sirius corrects himself, winking at you as he appears at one shoulder.

A second presence at the other. "Hi, shortcake. What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" James Potter asks jokingly. He inclines his head at Remus, who, to your astonishment, seems to be blushing. "With this vagabond?"

"A girl like me?" you ask.

"Jesus christ," Remus mutters.

You catch his eyes and smile at him until he smiles back, hoping to reassure him though you're not sure what for. His expression softens.

"That's bad. That's really bad," Sirius says to James like you're not there, endlessly amused. "S'like I'm watching you and Lilykins."

"Like looking in a mirror," James sing-songs.

"I'd assume there was much less contempt on our front," Remus says.

James protests loudly and enraged whilst you repeat the word 'our' to yourself, grinning. Our, as in us, as in there's an us, no matter how small it might be.

"Do you want a drink?" Remus asks you over the low din of his friends.

"Sure."

Remus holds his hand out and you take it. He has big hands. His fingers fit through yours like they were made to. You let him drag you to a kitchen full of too many celebrities to count. He only looks at you.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #remus x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin imagine #marauders era #marauders #marauder x reader #x reader #rockstar!au

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