#and I was like ''hey that thread cut some bits out''
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Ironmouse: Part of the reason why I love this server so much is because everybody's so nice. Everyone! Like, every single person is super nice! And it's like- it's like, genuine nice, it's not like fake niceness. [...] I've literally talked to almost everybody at least once like outside of the QSMP. We've talked on Discord, people regularly check in on me, we get in group chats and we play games like outside of the server... You don't really find that sort of connection all the time with people.
Ironmouse recently talked about her experience on QSMP, and how kind all the members are. I'm posting the entire conversation instead of cutting it up like I usually would because I really enjoyed hearing her thoughts on the server.
[ Subtitle Transcript ]
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Ironmouse: Honestly, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I did. He's so nice, he's so- he's always been super nice to me. He's been so nice, I– part of the reason why I- I love this server so much is because everybody's so nice. Everyone! Like, every single person is super nice! And it's like- it's like, genuine nice, it's not like fake niceness. You know how sometimes like– you always hear like, "Oh yeah, you know–" when–
Ironmouse: Whenever you like, join like a new thing, right? Whenever you like join like a new thing, you always worry, 'cuz you always think: "Oh, are the people gonna like me? Are they gonna be nice to me? What if- What if- you know, what if this, what if that?" But everybody like genuinely was nice when I first came by, and everybody has been so nice to me– not just in the game, but outside of the game, and–
Ironmouse: Something special about the QSMP is like... People wanna be your friend like outside of the game? Like, I've literally talked to ev– almost– almost everybody at least once like outside of the QSMP, like... We've talked on Discord, people like regularly check in on me, and like we get in group chats and like we- we play games like outside of the server, and it's just like... You don't really find that sort of connection all the time with people? You know what I mean? It's very– it's very not common when you go on like, a content creator-like server or stuff like that, you know? You'll get like one or two people that you get close to and stuff, but like... Everybody is SO nice, and everybody's been so nice to me, and I can't tell you how many people like, wished me– not just like wished me happy birthday, or like wished- said, "Oh, you know, hap- Merry Christmas!" dadadada, it's like genuinely like... Asked how I'm doing, and like talk to me, and like... Just like– I dunno, it's just like so- so- it's so wonderful.
Ironmouse: Like, I get that with VShojo a lot, like– we're all like besties, and we all like talk all the time, but I feel like it's different, 'cuz like VShojo– we're VShojo, we're like– we're our own group, but this is like... You know... You don't expect this sorta thing when you get invited to like be on some- be a part of something, you know? And it's- and it's been so– it's been so wonderful and everybody's been so GENUINELY nice to me, and I- I appreciate everybody on the server so much, and they're just some of the nicest people that I've ever met ever, and it's just–
Ironmouse: It just warms my heart, and I'm just really– really like, thankful to be a part of something so great, and something so positive! Because like, everybody's so supportive! Like– the time when like, I didn't like– I- I- I had a moment where it's like I– do you guys remember in December when I- I was not around a lot? And like, I had to take breaks and all this stuff and it turns out it was like the concert stuff? They all like would message me regularly, like, we would all keep up with each other, and we would all talk. And I remember telling them about like, how much stress I was under, and like all the- all the pressures of the concert and stuff, and– and they were cheering, and- and- and they were just so... so kind to me, it was just so– so sweet, and- and you know, I was in a group chat with a- with a few people, and they were all just so excited and- and- just super nice, and- and very- very sweet, and it's just– and it's just very– I'm sorry if I'm rambling! It's just...
Ironmouse: I dunno! I- I- I just enjoy being here, and I enjoy hanging out with everybody, and... it's just nice to meet really good people. You don't really find that. You don't find that sort of thing all the time. Don't get me wrong– it's not like I haven't met a lot of good people, like– I just feel like this whole like, my whole like– Ever, like– My streaming journey, I've just been nothing but surprised at the goodness of people? Don't get me wrong– I've met assholes and sht like that, and I've met- I've encountered some people that are NOT so nice. I'll never like, talk about it or whatever because that's their thing, and I'm just gonna do my thing and I don't wanna like, you know, spread any type of stupid drama or whatever the fck, but like... I'm just always surprised about how– how incredibly nice people are, and how genuine a lot of people are, and it's... It- it's just nice, especially since like– You're used to coming from like, a certain background and a certain like, environment where it's like, you've met a lot of like fcked up mean people in your life, and you've just been around a lot of like fckery, you know? So when- when you're around stuff that's NOT fcked, it's just like, "Woah, this is crazy! Is this- is this how life is supposed to be?!" And it's just- it's just really... it's really- it's really nice. It's very nice.
Ironmouse: Yeah, it's very refreshing, that's why I- I enjoy hanging out on here, everybody's just so nice to me. And it's not just like being nice just to be on-stream, it's nice off-stream, on-stream, friendship on-stream, off-stream, it's- it's just- it's just so- it's- it's- it's wonderful. It's wonderful. And I just have to say like... man, I'm just really thankful that like... it's crazy that like I got invited to be on here and I'm just really thankful that, you know... Quackity like, reached out to me and he's- he's just been nothing but nice, everybody- everybody's just so kind. Everybody's so nice. This is something truly special.
#QSMP#Ironmouse#February 11 2024#Subtitles#*clenches fist* You don't want to know how long it took me to transcribe and subtitle this thing#anyways I saw people sharing a Twitter thread where Mouse talked about this#and I was like ''hey that thread cut some bits out''#so. here I am. posting the entire thing. and subtitling + transcribing it for some reason#anyways I'm shocked Tumblr let me upload this#I did lower the video quality a little bit (reluctantly) because the length + quality made the file size a smidge too big for Tumblr#but it's still pretty good quality imo. yeah?#I'm 100% applying to be a video editor the next time Quackity Studios is looking to hire folks again.#give me money so I can justify the time and effort I put into these things#Edit: Yeah I might make a shorter version of this too#just so I can direct people to this longer version as well#EDIT: LMAO I FORGOT TO POST THIS#Edited
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Hey, I found a beanie boo that I liked the design of but I can't stand those giant uguu eyes. Do you think it would be possible to replace them with smaller safety eyes akin to the old beanie babies? If yes, do you have any advice?
I was gonna answer this in a normal way, but then I got curious about trying it for myself and thought I might as well demonstrate!
So, I went and picked up a guy from the supermarket. The selection there was pretty barren today but I found a decent test subject:
Eye replacement procedure below!
(First of all, to my friend who loves beanie boos, I am so sorry for this lmao)
So! First I opened up the closing seam on his back. However, I found an extra mesh barrier inside! Clearly this is to prevent bean escape since this is the most likely seam to accidentally pop open through play. This would be a bit annoying to work around so I just sewed it back up and went in the back of the head instead…
Opened and unstuffed the head…
…And turning it inside out to get to the backs of the eyes. Whoa, these plastic washers are the biggest I’ve ever seen!! Cutting through them will take some work!
Please be very careful of your fingers cutting through these!! Be careful not to cut the fabric around the eye too, but mostly be careful of yourself!
Anyway grrrrrrr attack attack slice slice grrrr
They’re out! With a little glue I think the washers would be able to hold on perfectly well again. I’ll keep these eyes to reuse on something where they’ll be a bit more proportional!
The washers on these eyes are particularly cup shaped, fitting around the back of the eye and holding the fabric tightly against them. Now that the eyes are removed, this has left imprints on the fur!
Plenty of brushing and rumfling will help to fix the creased and flattened areas of fur, and wetting the fur or gently steaming over a hot cup of water should help too. It might take a little time!
(Also, I did make a little cut in the cheek while removing a washer, oops! No worries, that can be stitched up.)
Now we can try on a few new eye styles! Restuff the head for now so you can see how they’ll look.
I have a few sizes of solid black, from teeny dots to absolute tbh creature…
These blue eyes were a little scary… no thanks!
I even have some glittery ones like the original, but smaller! Pretty nice actually!
And even some googly eyes hehehe!
But my favourite eyes were some basic 9mm black ones! They are placed a little funny here, but the position will change a little bit…
The holes left by the original eyes were very big, so a couple of stitches are needed on each one to tighten them up to fit the new eyes. I stitched the top outer corners, to move the holes down and inwards a bit. If you wanted, you could even sew them closed completely and make new eye holes elsewhere!
Unstuff again and pop those new eyes in!
Restuff! You might actually need to add a little extra stuffing, as the fabric not being so pulled around the eyes any more will mean it is a little ‘baggier’.
Then sew the head closed again and that’s about it! The fur is still a little creased around mine, but I’ll keep working at it and it should become less visible.
To add a tiny bit more shape to the big round head, I also did a touch of threadsculpting. I ran a thread from the corner of each eye to below the chin and back, just pulling the eyes in a tad more. You might decide you don’t need this!
And there we go! Hope you’ll try it yourself!
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WHEN YOU'RE SICK: STREAMER!GOJO
✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you have a cold, and he has a bag of sweets—how does your streamer boyfriend comfort you when you're sick? (streamer!au)
contents: fem!reader. fluff. pet names. very self-indulgent bc i'm sick right now and needed this for myself :,) can mostly be read outside of the streamer!au i guess.
“i brought you some sweets!”
you look up drowsily when your boyfriend’s familiar voice pulls you out of your sleep. your eyes slowly adjust to the soft lighting of your room and to the perfect, sharp features of the face inches from yours. “satoru, how are you here—”
he cuts you off by pressing a finger to your lips, and a moment later, satoru slips some sort of candy into your mouth. “‘cause you’re sick, and i’m a good boyfriend. obviously,” he teases, smiling endearingly when your eyes light up from the sugary taste of whatever satoru gave you. “how’d you catch a cold, anyways?”
you sit up a little bit, resting your back against the headboard and your head on satoru’s shoulder. “i’m not actually sure,” you admit, snuggling into the arm that wraps itself around you. “aw, you’re wearing the hoodie i got you,” you point out, tapping on his chest. it’s a small inside joke between the two of you—the logo on the top left of the hoodie is the one from the streamer inmaki’s channel, a user who has a long-standing reputation for being one of your boyfriend’s haters.
“only because i practically ran out of the house once i got your text,” satoru huffs, rolling his blue eyes good-naturedly. he notices the little smile on your face and the way you cover your mouth in an attempt to hide your laugh, so he pulls out his phone from his pocket and adds, “hey, what was i supposed to do when i get a message like this?”
random girl i guess i like: can u come over :( i’m sick and imy
“why’d you change my contact to ‘random girl i guess i like?’” you gasp dramatically, snatching satoru’s phone away from him. a nervous laugh slips out of your boyfriend’s lips before you turn on him, squinting your eyes at him suspiciously. “if i looked at suguru’s contact, what would i see next?”
“...you don’t wanna know.”
“satoru gojo, answer me or i swear—” you don’t get to finish your threat before a sneeze cuts you off, followed by two more that leave you deflated in satoru’s arms. somehow, your head slides down from his shoulder and ends up on his chest, and a look of concern overtakes satoru’s expression.
“how sick are you?” he asks tentatively, fishing out another candy from his pocket and prodding at your lips with it. you open your mouth and let him feed you, taking a second to relish the sweetness of the sugar-loaded bite before you shrug and sniffle again. “poor thing,” satoru coos, rounding his eyes down at you while you rub your nose to get rid of the subtle itching sensation.
“i can’t stop sniffling,” you mumble dryly, staring up at satoru pathetically. it’s as if you’re a wet cat that’s been sitting in the rain for hours, and as if he’s the kind old man who takes you in and dries you off. satoru’s slender fingers thread themselves through your dishelved hair, stroking it and twining it around his hand. “s’ been like this for hou— no, days,” you continue, determined to complain for at least the next couple minutes. “and—”
satoru’s hands move from the top of your head to your cheeks, cupping them intensely enough to hold your face still as he leans down and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. you make a small sound in protest, not wanting to get him sick too, but he ignores you and peppers feather-like kisses all over your face. “you’re so cute like this, y’know?” he murmurs, squishing your face in between his hands. “all rumpled and bedhead-y, aww.”
“satoru, you’ll get sick,” you point out, futilely trying to lean away from his lips when he goes back in for a kiss again. “satoru!”
“i don’t care,” he grumbles, swatting away your hand when you try to pull on the strings of his hoodie. “you’re my girlfriend, and if i wanna kiss you, then i will. and i don’t care if i get sick, ‘cause i have a pretty girl to take care of me anyways, don’t i?”
you stop protesting and let him press his lips back to yours again, and even though you sniffle again about three times, satoru’s as devoted to you as ever. “really?”
“yeah. my mom— ow, i mean, you too!” he adds quickly, grinning playfully even when you swat his chest. “i’m joking, i’m joking. have some candy, sweet girl.” before you can say anything, satoru shoves a handful of bright, colorful sweets in your mouth and kisses your nose. “take a nap. i’ll be here when you wake up, i promise.”
somehow, the moment you hear satoru’s murmured reassurances, your eyes grow heavy and you surrender yourself to his grip. “m’kay…” you mumble, closing your eyes and exhaling softly. and maybe it’s your imagination, but you swear you can feel satoru’s suppressed laughter as you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.
…
“wait, now what do i do?”
#osaemu#streamer!gojo#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles
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✴️ ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。GO ON AND PUT THAT RING ON MY FINGER!
how the heroes of olympus would react to you accidentally calling them “husband”! <3
characters in this thread : leo valdez, percy jackson, jason grace, frank zhang.
📬 sunni’s notes : hey sunni nation school is biting me in the ass but i am thriving (barely) ANYWAAAY i was thinking of some fic ideas and this had crossed my mind and thought it would be fun!! lowkey breaking my silence because i haven’t gone far enough to write about our boy frank so if he’s a little out of character then i apologize </3 okay happy reading bebis! sunkisses!!! >3<
ʚ PERCY JACKSON ɞ . . .
⊹ you and percy spent christmas break at sally’s apartment!
⊹ it was a snowy new york city day, and y’all decided to stay in and just bake some cookies with his mom, while paul was out for work.
⊹ “hell yeah!! cookies!!” percy yelled, grabbing the ingredients from the apartment pantry, a bag of flour, sugar, and white chocolate chips in his arms.
⊹ sally clapped her hands, “(name), honey, grab the powdered sugar please?” you nodded, on your way to the pantry.
⊹ you scanned the small room, percy walking beside you, his hands on his hips. he hit your hips with his own sassily, “come on babe, it’s right there.” he teased.
⊹ rolling your eyes you reply,
⊹ “hubba, i’m trying—“ you cut yourself off. “i.. i mean— ah.. i-“
⊹ percy, silent for a bit, burst into laughter, holding his stomach.
⊹ your cheeks growing a shade of pink, he helf you by the waist and peppered you with wet kisses. “awww, my dear ‘ol wife!” he said in a posh-accent.
⊹ you tried to get out of his embrace, but he kept his grip, “perce! stop!!” you laughed with him, percy continued his kisses before you two got scolded at by sally.
⊹ “love birds! hurry with the powdered sugar!”
⊹ before leaving back for school, percy asked his mom for engagement ring ideas.
⊹ this man did not want to waste time.
ʚ LEO VALDEZ ɞ . . .
⊹ spending your time back in leo’s cabin, everybody was gone for the end of summer break, and leo was the only one left back at the heph cabin.
⊹ you laid on his bed while he worked on a few projects, tossing a piece of metal in the air and catching it, letting it keep you distracted.
⊹ leo hummed, “mami, you okay?” he kept his eyes glued to the small machine infront of him.
⊹ you hummed back, “yeah. i’m peachy hubba.”
⊹ your eyes widen.
⊹ his eyes widen.
⊹ “wh.. whAT’D YOU SAY??” leo jumped, his goggles falling from his face.
⊹ “I MEANT BUBBA! NOT HUBBA!”
⊹ despite your efforts in justifying the accidental nickname, leo had twinkles in his eyes.
⊹ “i definitely heard you call me your husband.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
⊹ you folded i’m afraid.
⊹ “when did we have a wedding? i’m sure i’d remember you in white mami.”
⊹ gods, the wink. he gave you a wink.
⊹ HE DEFINITELY FLEXED IT AT THE SEVENS GANG.
⊹ “oh, i don’t know about you guys but i’m pretty sure (name) just called me her husband.”
⊹ “oh shut up you already told us that.”
ʚ JASON GRACE ɞ . . .
⊹ sunny day out!
⊹ y’all were out in new york for a totally normal mortal date, which you guys think you deserved by the way.
⊹ you guys we’re just out window shopping and coo’ing at old dogs that their owners had walked them out for, your hands interwined.
⊹ jason always caught a glimpse of your beaming smile whenever you waved at a dog passing by.
⊹ “where do you wanna go next honey?” he spoke softly, continuing your walking.
⊹ “mm.. coffee shop?”
⊹ the blondie shrugging his shoulders, mirroring the same grin his girlfriend had, he nodded.
⊹ excited to get some coffee, you don’t truly realize your choice of words,
⊹ “thanks hubba!—“
⊹ at first, jason and you don’t really realize it since at this point, you two we’re a married couple by the way you act.
⊹ the intimacy and the pure comfort of you guys.
⊹ from the rest of the sevens point of few, you two we’re like parents to them.
⊹ but he brings it up the minute you guys inhale the aroma of fresh brewed coffee.
⊹ “hubba?” he said in-between soft chuckles, a pink blush growing on his face as his nervousness starts to creep up his spine.
⊹ she grinned, “you like it?”
⊹ “love it.” and he kissed your cheek longingly.
ʚ FRANK ZHANG ɞ . . .
⊹ frank tackled you gently into a bear hug.
⊹ the poor boy was training until sunrise.
⊹ you giggled under your breath as he basically enveloped you in his embrace.
⊹ “you sleepy, baby?” you whispered, the giggles unable to be kept.
⊹ frank nodded while he nuzzled his face in your shoulder, just savoring the moment you guys we’re having together under the sunrise of camp.
⊹ “just sleep hubba.” you slipped out, but frank was unable to overhear. though, he truly, truly, did overhear.
⊹ he was too tired to react, keeping his face in your shoulder, but he let out a hum, a faint smile on his face.
⊹ “thank you love.”
⊹ “anything for you.”
⊹ though the moment he woke up, unsure to bring it up, he came up to you,
⊹ “you uh.. called me something, when i fell asleep.”
⊹ you cocked a brow, confused, then it hit you.
⊹ “OH! sorry— force of habit.” you grinned.
⊹ frank melted at your gaze, kissing your forehead, “maybe we should make it a normal habit.”
#sunni does not sleep#sunni's sunkisses ☼ *.#pjoverse#percy jackson x reader#leo valdez x reader#jason grace x reader#frank zhang x reader#heroes of olympus x reader#percy jackson headcanons#leo valdez headcanons#jason grace headcanons#frank zhang headcanons
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Drunk Words are Sober Thoughts
Summary: Spencer’s been, uncharacteristically, ignoring you all day, and you’re determined to find out why.
A/N: I’m still alive, I promise! I forgot how much I loved posting my work on Tumblr (the validation seeker in me feels so fulfilled every time I look at my inbox). This was one of the first ‘x reader’ fics I ever wrote, but it’s been a couple of years since and I’m really hoping there’s been some improvement.
Enjoy the fic, and have a fantastic day <3
Note(s): gn!reader & no pronouns used, mentions of alcohol (reader gets quite drunk), shameless Korean movie name drop, drunken confessions and kisses (with consent!)
Word Count: 2801
* * *
Heavy sheets of rain pelted down onto you as you weaved through the busy streets. Occasionally, a car would drive through the roadside puddles, splashing you and soaking you to the bone. You hadn’t brought a coat. You didn’t think you were going to need one. The sun had still been shining when you’d left your apartment in Quantico.
You had planned to go home, collapse onto your couch and work your way through a tub of cookie dough ice cream that you knew was sitting in the back of your freezer. Instead, you’d taken the hour-long journey to Washington DC. Spencer had been completely ignoring you, and Spencer was never the type to completely ignore you. You hadn’t managed to speak to him at all throughout the day, you'd barely been able to make eye contact with him for more than a millisecond, and you wanted to know why.
Standing outside Spencer's door, your eyes crossed as you watched a water droplet drip from your nose. You were acutely aware of the puddles you were leaving on the carpet and you shifted in place a little, hoping to not soak one particular spot too much.
You hadn't even noticed that Spencer had opened the door until he softly said your name, "What…" he started to say, speaking as if he was in a trance, "What are you doing here?"
"Hey, Spencer," you gave him a little lopsided smile, "Can I come in?"
Spencer looked you up and down briefly, and for a moment you were convinced that he was about to slam the door in your face, "Yeah. Come in," he shuffled aside, "You must be freezing."
You slid past him, "Yeah," you laughed, your teeth chattering. You hadn't realised how cold you actually were until you stepped into his apartment where the heating system was on full blast, "You could say that."
"Hang on. Let me just…" Spencer scampered into a room on the other side of the apartment. You could hear him clattering around before he returned a moment later with a towel in one hand and a thread-worn jumper in the other, "Here."
You quickly and gratefully slipped the jumper over your head and draped the towel around your shoulders, breathing a tiny sigh of relief when the cold water stopped dripping onto your neck, "Thanks, Spencer."
A silence fell over the two of you. Spencer's eyes darted around the apartment, making sure to pay attention to everything except you. You and Spencer were never awkward with each other.
"Look, Spence," you clung to the towel a little bit tighter, "I didn't come here to steal a jumper, even though that seems like a great idea right now."
"We need to talk, don't we?"
"Yeah, we do," a sudden wave of self consciousness washed over you, "Have I done something wrong?"
"No, why would…"
"You know you can always tell me if I've done something wrong," you started to ramble, "I don't mind. I'm not going to get mad, or offended, or…"
Spencer cut you off, "Why would you think you've done anything wrong?"
You ran a hand through your wet hair, "Spence, you've been ignoring me all day."
~
You triumphantly clutched the tickets in your balled up fist, "I did it!"
Derek's eyes followed the little scraps of paper as you waved them up and down, "Great. What did you do?"
"I got the tickets!" you excitedly shoved them in his face, "Look!"
"Yeah, I know what tickets are," he gently swatted your arm away, "What are they for?"
"Mother!" you told him, and only when he raised an eyebrow at you did you realise how strange it sounded with zero context, "It's a South Korean movie," you told him, "They're doing a screening of it later this week, and they haven't translated it so it still entirely in Korean."
"I didn't know you knew Korean."
You shrugged, "I'm not exactly conversational, but I understand most of the language. Spencer and I were discussing it the other day so I got tickets for the both of us so we could go together, and…" you stopped when you saw the smirk Derek was hiding behind his coffee cup, "What?"
"Nothing."
"No. What?"
Derek took a deliberately slow sip of his coffee, "It's not my place, really."
"That has literally never stopped you before," you rolled your eyes, "What's wrong? Do you think it's…" you were cut off when the elevator chimed and Spencer stepped out, "Oh! Spence!" you had to jog to catch up with his fast pace, "I got tickets for that movie we were talking about, and I managed to get two so we can go together!"
"I don't think I can."
Spencer's answer made you falter, "What? I thought you were looking forward to seeing it," you said, "It's not until next week, so…"
"No, it's fine. You go and see it, though."
You stopped and watched as Spencer entered the bullpen, took a seat at his desk and proceeded to busy himself in a case file, "Did I do something wrong?"
Derek sidled up to you, sipping on his coffee, "I'd say you did everything right, actually."
"Derek," you warned him, "I swear to God, you sip that coffee suspiciously one more time and it's going straight out of the nearest window."
"Hey! I paid good money for this."
~
"I haven't been ignoring you."
"Please don't deny it, Spencer. That makes it worse," you said, "Ignoring me. Avoiding me. Doesn't matter what you want to call it. You've been doing it."
Spencer avoided your eyes, "I guess I didn't realise."
"Yeah, I didn't think you did," with a sigh you flopped dramatically onto his couch, "I'd rather you be screaming at me, or I'd even rather you be passive aggressive with me, or something. At least then I'd know that I'd done something wrong."
"I told you, you haven't done anything wrong."
"I've obviously done something to make it seem like you suddenly hate me," you said, "You don't usually ignore your friends for no good reason."
"Hate you? I could never hate you," Spencer sighed, and he sat down on the couch beside you, "You really don't know what happened, do you?"
"If I did, do you think I'd be here?"
He sighed again, "The other night, when we went out after work," he started, "What do you remember?"
"I remember we all went to that new bar that Rossi’s always going on about, and I remember Prentiss getting us involved in that drinking game that I’m sure she was making up as the night went along, and…" you froze, "Oh. Oh no," you groaned, "Please don't tell me I did my Backstreet Boys karaoke set."
"It was quite good, actually," he paused, a smile taking over his face for a second, "Some interesting choreography, too."
You sank further into the couch cushions, buying your face in your hands, "This is the worst day of my life."
"That's it? You don't remember anything else?"
"No," you shook your head, "What else did I do? Did I drop some NSYNC into the mix, or something?" you noticed a faint blush creeping up Spencer's neck, "Spencer?"
"You kissed me."
"What?!"
~
"Are they going to be alright?"
Spencer and Derek looked to the doors of the bar where you and Penelope were stumbling out onto the street.
"I love you so much, Pen."
"I love you too, my sweet angel," Penelope grabbed your shoulders and gently shook you, "You are one of my bestest friends in the whole entire world."
"Alright," Derek slid into the conversation, "I think we best get you two home, hm?"
"And you," Penelope turned to Derek, prodding him in the chest, "You are just the most magnificent person I’ve ever seen," she gently slapped his cheek, "Mr.Magnificent."
You giggled, putting on your best Derek impression, "Lock up your doors. Mr. Magnificent is here."
"Okay. Alright. As much as I'm loving this conversation we're having," he took hold of Penelope firmly by the shoulders and steered her down the street, "You need to go home."
"Speak soon, my love," you blew Penelope a kiss as she and Derek disappeared into the night. You turned to Spencer, "Let's go!" you dramatically pointed in the vague direction of your apartment and strode off.
"Wait," Spencer ran to catch up with you, "You're not going home on your own."
"Obviously," you dramatically rolled your eyes, grabbing Spencer's wrist, "You're coming with me, silly!"
Spencer let out a sound akin to a yelp as you dragged him down the street, and he had to apologise profusely to a couple that you almost rammed into, "Slow down," he called, "Do you even know where you're going?"
You stopped and stared at him, a hand on your chin as you pretended to think, "Of course I do," you bounded off, though Spencer quickly caught your arm.
"You're going the wrong way."
"No, I'm not," you continued marching down the street, only to stop a few steps away and turn on your heel, "Oh."
Spencer shook his head, an amused smile playing on his lips, "Told you."
You marched past Spencer, and you grabbed his hand, "We're going the wrong way."
"We?!"
You and Spencer wandered through the streets in near silence for a moment, the only sound being you humming a completely out of tune song to yourself. You didn’t live far from the bar, and you could’ve usually walked the distance in two minutes. It probably took you almost ten considering you decided to keep stopping at every single little thing that caught your interest.
At one point, Spencer had to grab your hand and drag you down the street. You didn’t mind, though. You could feel your skin tingle a little when your hands connected.
“Oh, come on,” Spencer stood in front of the elevator in your apartment building, practically groaning in frustration at the ‘out of order’ sign that was plastered to the doors, “You have got to be kidding me.”
“It’s broken.”
“I know it’s broken.”
You sat down heavily on the stairs. Your legs were starting to get a little wobbly, and your eyes were starting to droop from tiredness, “It’s always broken.”
Spencer turned to you, shaking his head in amusement when he saw you sitting on the stairs and staring at the ceiling. You weren’t exactly staring at anything in particular, though, “Are you even capable of using the stairs right now?”
“I will be if you carry me.”
“I’m not carrying you,” Spencer gently tugged on your arm, “Come on. What floor is your apartment on?”
“Tenth.”
“Oh, for…” he quickly cut himself off, and he began coaxing you towards the stairs, though he was considering dragging you upstairs at this point, “Alright. Come on, then. Let’s get you home.”
“I don’t want to,” you whined, and you tugged on his hand, “No… No, I have a secret…”
Spencer looked back at you with that same amused smile playing on his lips as he took in your dishevelled state. You looked even worse now that you were indoors, and you looked like you so desperately needed your bed.
“What is it?”
“I can’t shout it out loud, can I?” you giggled again, and you beckoned him closer, “Come here. Let me whisper it.”
“Alright,” Spencer rolled his eyes affectionately, and he took a step closer to you, “Can you tell me now?”
“No,” you grabbed a hold of his jacket as you tugged him a little closer to you, “There. Close enough,” you leant in so that your lips were practically on his ear, “I want to kiss you.”
Spencer’s reaction was as if someone had burned him with a hot iron. He took a step back, and his expression was one of pure unadulterated shock, “You… You want to…” he was at a complete loss for words, “You want to kiss me?”
You hummed in response to his shock, and you clapped your hands. You were practically bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet in excitement as if you’d won something, “Yeah! Can I kiss you? Because I really want to kiss you.”
For a long moment, Spencer’s mouth opened and closed as if he were a fish out of water. It was almost comical, and it definitely made you laugh harder than you already were. Even with your alcohol-clouded brain, you couldn’t help but admire how utterly cute he was.
“I… I…” Spencer fumbled over his words for a few more seconds, but then he seemed to collect himself. He straightened up, and despite the blush painting his cheeks, his shocked expression morphed into one of happiness, “Yeah. Okay. I… I really want to kiss you, too.”
“Yay!” you barely even gave him a chance to prepare himself before you grabbed his collar and pressed your lips to his. It felt like fireworks were exploding inside your mind for a moment, though you weren’t sure if that was because of the kiss or because of the alcohol. Either way, it was quite possibly one of the most magical moments of your life.
After a few seconds, the kiss broke. Spencer pulled away first, but he seemed almost reluctant to do so, “I… That was…”
“That was amazing!” you finished his sentence for him, “I want to do it again. Can we do it again?”
That got a real laugh out of Spencer, “I think we’ll wait until you’re sober before we do that again,” he gently took your arm and began helping you up the stairs, “Come on. You need to sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover in the world tomorrow.”
You whined at that, “No, I hate hangovers,” your whining was interrupted when you tripped on the stairs. You would’ve face planted had Spencer not caught you, “Ow. Who put that there?”
~
“Oh my God,” you slumped so far into the sofa cushions that it was a wonder you hadn’t sunk into them, “Spence, I…” you glanced at him through your fingers, “I am so sorry. I…”
“No, no. Don’t be sorry,” Spencer quickly reassured you, and he placed a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to try and ease the nerves that were creeping through in your tone, “You don’t have to apologise. I… I didn’t mind, actually.”
Your hands dropped from your face, and you stared at him, “You didn’t?”
Sure, you’d fancied the pants off of Spencer from the moment you’d walked into the BAU on your very first day. The only reason you never actually said anything was so that you didn’t ruin the friendship the two of you had. You weren’t sure if you were ready to kiss or kill your drunk self for getting you into this situation.
“I kissed you.”
“I know you did.”
“And you kissed me.”
“Oh, so we’ve got two geniuses at the BAU, apparently.”
You swatted his arm, though there was no use pretending to be annoyed when the goofiest grin was taking over your face by the second, “I can’t believe I asked you to kiss me, and I can’t believe you actually chose to kiss me.”
Spencer let out a soft laugh, “Yeah, well, you were pretty insistent,” he rubbed his shoulder, “I’m pretty sure I still have that bruise from where you shoved me against the door and demanded I kiss you again.”
You groaned in a mix of embarrassment and frustration, and you whacked him with the damp towel around your shoulders, “I hate you.”
“Your drunk self says otherwise,” he laughed and deflected the towel, and then he quickly grabbed your hand. That gesture in itself shocked you. You’d never seen Spencer be any type of forward before, “Actually, if you hadn’t had lost all of your inhibitions that night, I don’t think we’d have ever kissed.”
You don’t miss the way your fingers immediately interlace with Spencer’s. It happens so quickly that it’s almost like a natural reaction for the two of you, “Yeah, I guess we wouldn’t have,” you squeezed his hand, and you gave him a smile, “So, does this mean we can actually kiss while I’m sober, this time?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Spencer’s voice dropped to a whisper, and he scooted a little closer to you so that your knees were touching, “I’m glad you’ll actually remember this one.”
You giggled at that comment. You sounded as if you were on cloud nine. You felt it, too, “Yeah. I’ll definitely remember.”
As Spencer gently pressed his lips to yours in a kiss so sweet and so obviously full of affection, those same fireworks that you’d felt a few nights ago came rushing back. They definitely weren’t because of the alcohol.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader
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Something To Look At
Even Buckley x Reader x Eddie Diaz
Summary: a relaxing shower could lead to many things especially with thoughts like thoses
Warning: double penetration, semi-public sex
Yn/3rd person pov
I giggled at buck as went on about the charity calendar my eyes drifted over to the locker room when I saw some movement in the corner of my eye "oh my fuck" I whispered catching the attention from the others.
My eyes widened wondering over his exposed chest "whose that" Maddie asked "oh that's eddie diaz just graduated top of his class this week" Bobby smiled I bite my lip.
"Hey" I snapped out of my thoughts when buck nudged me and looked at me with a knowingly look "what" I muttered and walked behind with buck as we went to introduce ourselves.
"I'm yn" I smiled shaking his hand and our hands and eyes lingering a bit to long for bucks liking he pulled me away by my waist keeping his hands planted on waist "and I'm buck" he growled.
Eddie's mouth twitched as his hands stared at buck's that were on my waist "pleasure" he smiled you could cut the tension between them with a knife.
"Come on" buck ushered me out and away from eddie into the gym with him "try not to bulk up to much I don't need every girl to be looking at you" I teased taking off my sweat shirt leaving me in my sports bra.
"I could say the same" he grumbled and started working out I rolled my eyes and giggled to myself and bandaged up my hands so I could use the punching bag.
I let out a few deep breaths before I started swinging the force of the punches moving the bag to much "buck can yo-" I was interrupted when eddie slid behind the bag and held it "I got it".
I started punching and would kick every few minutes "you got a good form" he murmured as his eyes glided over my body biting his lip "I think you should stop" I whispered glancing over to buck who was already staring at us clenching his fists.
"What are you guys together or something" he asked as he stared at buck "something like that" I murmured but I gasped out hearing the clash of something hit the floor.
The sound of the alarm interrupted us "fuck" I sighed out and took off my bandages "yn you stay here we're taking eddie with us" Bobby shouted as he ran to the truck "what" I muttered "sorry" eddie said running off with buck.
I groaned and rolled my eyes taking a seat on the bench my eyes watching them run to the truck biting my lip 'fuck' I don't know how ill concentrate with both of them on my team.
I looked down towards the ground taking a couple breaths before getting up and head towards the showers to clean up but my steps fultered as I felt myself dumpen the images of them both fucking keeps popping up.
"Get a hold of yourself for fuck sake" I whispered and grabbed a few things from my locker and went into a cubicle and turned on the water when the temperature reached my liking I stepped under and let out a sigh of relief the hot water helping ease my sore muscles.
I rinsed off my body and just stood under the water eyes closed letting out deep breathes through my nose I let out a small hum as I imagined them being here with me their hands gliding over my skin their lips attached to my neck.
My hands threading through their hair as they pleasured me and that's when I felt it I gasped and turned around and freaked as I saw eddie and buck naked "looks like someone was enjoying themselves" buck teased biting his lip as his eyes looked over my body.
"Y-your back" I grinned nervously using my hands to somewhat cover myself eddie clicked his tongue as buck just shook his head they stepped towards me pushing me back intill I was up against the wall.
"Don't be shy now" eddie murmured as they leaned in towards me I looked to the ground and shakily removed my hands "good princesa" eddie murmured and moved his hand to my neck urging me to look up at him while buck's hands started playing with my breasts.
"Be quite now don't want Bobby to hear now do we" buck said as I let out small whines of pleasure bucks hands fell to my hips and he pulled me against him under the water pressing his body pressed to mine I gasped as eddie came up behind me and did the same.
"I-i thought you hated eachother" I murmured they looked at eachother for a brief second before eddie whispered into my ear "we have a thing in common" he growled lightly nibbling on my earlobe.
My head started to feel dizzy this can't be happening "come on dude let's stop teasing her and fuck the shit out of her" buck grumbled and with one single movement he was inside me "b-buck" I whined out my hands immediately went to hold his shoulders.
"Hold on princesa" eddie whispered and slowly started pushing in with buck my knees buckled and buck had to cover my mouth so I didn't alert the others my eyes rolled to the back of my head at the stretch.
"Shit she's tight" buck groaned as they started moving in and out "enjoy this mia amor" eddie muttered they thrusts slowly started increasing in speed as I started loosening up.
"Fuck dude I think the whole station can hear us" buck released his hand from my mouth as he laughed out, my hands dug into bucks shoulders as I tried containing my moans but the pleasure was just to much.
"Aw the poor baby is trying" buck cooed cruelly at me his thrusts only getting harder "try contain yourself when we r-ruin you" he groaned, eddie grabbed the back of my thighs and picked me up causing them to hit new angles.
"Oh fuck" I cried out throwing my head back against his shoulder I felt myself getting close I tried to warn them but they understood and never let their thrusts fulter for a second.
"Cumming" I moaned out my eyes rolling back and my body trembled, eddie slowly put me down both of them not pulling out I leaned onto them catching my breath and closed my eyes.
But when I opened them they were gone there was no trace of them I looked around and out the cubicle and no one was their I quickly turned off the water and dried myself off getting my clothes on as fast as I can.
I exited the showers and saw that the team was back, my eyes scanned over the room in till they landed on eddie and buck who were laughing and actually being civil eddie locked eyes with me and winked.
"These two are gonna be the death of me"
#911#911 x reader#911 x reader smut#911 smut#911 evan buckley#911 eddie diaz#evan buckley#evan buckley smut#evan buckley x reader#evan buckley x reader smut#eddie diaz#eddie diaz smut#eddie diaz x reader#eddie diaz x reader smut#eddie diaz x reader x evan buckley#eddie diaz x reader x evan buckley smut#evan buckley x reader x eddie diaz#evan buckley x reader x eddie diaz smut
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Stuffed
You’re stressed cooking for thanksgiving and Bucky helps ease your nerves
You anxiously wander around the kitchen in the avengers compound. The Turkey is cooking in the oven while you cut up carrots.
You keep looking at the clock, anxious on the time. You were the one cooking thanksgiving dinner for the team and you might have bitten off more than you could chew.
Currently you had several dishes going and it was making you a little crazy having to keep track of them all. After all, there were pots and pans all over the kitchen and flour all down your apron.
You huffed a little and blew some of the hair that fell out of your bun out of your face. Your lips being a little pouty as you got back to work.
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky was watching from the doorway. He bit his lip slightly as he watched you work.
You were in a frenzy, moving fast between the different stations. Bucky watched the way your lips poured, his face growing warm.
He quietly walked closer to you, “hey babydoll”
You give him an anxious smile before you check the turkey. “Hey Bucky, need anything?”
“No” he says “i was just coming to see you cook. How you doing? You seem kind of worked up”
Bucky gently wrapped one of his arms around your waist. His musk overwhelming your senses.
“I’m fine Bucky,” you say but you hear him let out a scoff. He’s clearly not convinced.
Bucky presses a soft kiss to your neck, his beard tickling your skin. “Really?”
His voice is teasing. You shiver when he gently squeezes your hips.
“Yeah…”
Bucky chortles “it doesn’t seem like it baby. You’re all tense.”
His strong hands trail up your stomach. You set down the knife and relax a little into his embrace.
Bucky smirks as he continues to kiss your neck. “Not stressed huh?”
You can hear the smirk in his voice.
“Okay, Maybe a little…”
Bucky chuckles softly “oh babydoll”
He lightly nibbles on your ear, “does my babydoll want a little break? Some love?”
You nod your head as you feel your back press into his chest.
Bucky smiles. He turns you around and picks you up. Your legs wrap around his waist. Your arms going around his neck.
Bucky’s metal hand holds your ass as his other one threads through your hair. He kisses you passionately. His tongue pushing into your mouth.
You let out a soft moan. His tongue swirls around inside your mouth.
You feel yourself being set down, your back on a wooden table. Bucky pulls up briefly and pulls down your panties.
Your skirt being bunched up around your waist along with your apron. Bucky gets a mischievous smirk and pockets your underwear.
“I’ll be taking those babydoll.”
He swiftly unbuttons his pants and takes out his cock. He begins to pump himself slowly. His cock is long and girthy. Bucky’s hand firmly closes around his fat cock as he pumps himself.
You see the precum leak out of his tip. You try to sit up, but his metal hand holds you down.
“Oh no babydoll, you just got to lay there all nice and pretty. Let me stuff you”
Your face heats up at his remark. Yet you lay back down. Bucky lines his tip up with your entrance.
He teases your hole causing you to moan: “oh Bucky, please”
He smirks as he swipes his tip through your folds. Precum gathering on your eager labia. He takes his tip and thrusts into you.
You feel his cock inside you, his member feeling warm as he stretches you out. His fat cock taking a moment to get used to.
You Buck your hips slightly when you get used to the stretched out feeling. Bucky takes the cue and starts to thrust into you.
The friction of his cock sliding in and out making you moan. Bucky only smirks as he quickens his pace. You feel his cock pound deep inside you.
“Oh-oh, bucky”
“How’s that feel sweetheart? Does it feel good?” His words are teasing as he continues to fuck you.
You can barely form words, too focused on his cock. Bucky’s smirk widens when he sees your dumb expression.
“Oh is my pretty little babydoll getting all dumb, now that her brains are being fucked out?”
You let out a pathetic moan and a soft nod. Bucky hoists your legs up. He pushes them up by your head.
The new position providing better access. You feel the tip of his cock press against your cervix. Your eyes roll back as he thrusts into you.
“Oh-oh… oh”
Bucky leans his head forwards so he can kiss you. Your ankles by his ears. You feel his hands tighten around your ankles.
His tongue pushes into your mouth forcefully. Your hands go to his hair and tug him closer. You feel his balls slap against your core.
You moan into his mouth. His tongue pushing down your throat.
You feel your pleasure build and build each time he thrusts deep inside you. Bucky keeps up his pace but thrusts with a little more force.
His cock stretching you out so nicely as you feel your high come.
Your head rolls back as a wave of pleasure overtakes you.
“Oh bucky. Bucky!”
Bucky smirks down at you, “feeling better baby?”
You nod your head, still being a little out of it from his dick.
Bucky kisses your lips and then looks down at you with sensual eyes. “Such a good babydoll letting me stuff you”
#thanksgiving#marvel smut#marvel x reader#smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes#bucky smut#james bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader
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Because I’m currently pissed off ive decided to manifest it into positive energy 🙂!!! I present to you a scenario of very loud and annoying neighbour Yeonjun, like just criminally loud neighbour throughout every. single. night. Absolutely no rest ever since he moved in.
warnings: sub!yeonjun, grinding, slapping lol, dacryphilia, noona kink sorta
On good days, it’d be what you think is him producing music because at least your walls aren’t vibrating. Worst days? It would hands down be the ragers he throws practically every week as if he was still in college. Sex being a close second—to give credit, he has toned it down the past couple of weeks.
“We take your complaints very seriously, but please cut him some slack Miss. He’s still in college you know how…they get,” So…he is still in college. And to the newfound information, you guess he’s also under twenty three. It explains… a lot. “Between you and me, he’s practically scraping to get money for rent enough as it is.”
You hold back a scoff and instead try to be empathetic so you give your best attempt at a smile to the office worker. You could handle a few months of sleepless nights before he’s eventually evicted, can’t you?
So, just like that, you give up the weekly complaints you send to the landlord.
…Is what you chose to believe as you try your hardest to drown out the noise next door, pillow pressed against your ear with sheer strength before you finally give out, groaning with agony. If you can’t get anybody to listen to your complaints, then who will?
Communication.
Like a light bulb lit above your head you scramble out of your bed, not in the mood to change out of your nightgown, slipped on your slides, and you were now prepared to pay a visit to your more than lovely neighbour, Choi Yeonjun.
You knock a few times. No response.
Before you could get your tenth knock the door swings open to reveal the monster who has been tormenting you for the last few months. You hold up a polite smile, though your eyes unintentionally trail down to his exposed collarbones. A white tank top, a white tank top, a white— “Hey?”
Your eyes widen, getting flustered as you clear your throat, straightening your posture. “Um, so, hi! As you know I’m—"
“Y/N, neighbour 331.” Your brows raise impressed that he actually knew. “The one who’s been submitting complaints on me every Friday, right?”
Oh. He does not like you. Your smile falters for a second before you compose yourself and nod. “I just wanted to come to you instead of going to the landlord tomorrow morning, think it’s better if we communicate.”
He contemplates for a second before nodding, arms crossed lazily, eyes urging you to continue. “…I want to communicate that I am not very…appreciative of the noise every night. Well, I’m sure you already know—and I wish for you to turn it down a notch.”
Yeonjun gives you a tight smile, eyes turning into crescents, with his hand placed behind his door. “Sure.” —is all he says before the door’s slammed shut in your face.
Not taking into account the rudeness of what he just did, you think that was a success. So you take a second to commend yourself and pat yourself on the back, heading to your flat.
To your luck, he goes through with his word and actually keeps it down.
For one night.
You think maybe if you go knocking enough times, he'd follow through each time (which he does) and eventually learn to turn it down without you telling him to (which he doesn't).
You're faced with him again, patience holding by a thread, "Keep. It. Down." you grit out the moment his door opens, eyes with intention to kill.
"Damn. Okay. You can chill out."
And then again.
"Turn your TV down."
And...again.
"I would appreciate it if you turned it down a bit."
It was a daily thing to get up from the comfort of your bed and storm up to his door, your knuckles bruising from the abundance of times you banged on his door.
"At this point, might start thinking you're really into me." You stare at him in disbelief, mouth hung open not able to process the absolute audacity. You're even more pissed when he cheekily points out: "You're drooling."
You immediately shut your mouth before rolling your eyes to absolute oblivion. You hate his guts. Even more when you wipe at your mouth experimentally and do in fact find that he wasn't lying. "Just—just turn it down!"
You truly did not like him, nothing more nothing less. You couldn't even find him more than averagely attractive so there definitely weren't any underlying feelings. You just thought he was way too incredibly cocky for your taste, too unbothered of his surroundings; to you it looked like all that mattered to Yeonjun was himself. Which is a big turn off.
You were definitely all too aware of the numerous times his eyes would, with absolutely no shame, look you up and down, not caring to be discreet about checking you out. Each time you'd scoff, because god, does he remind you of all the reasons you hated college.
You didn't think he was at peak of childishness until the one time you saw Yeonjun arriving at his door as you struggled to key your door open with your sort-of-boyfriend slash co-worker Doyoung (which was another issue you had to deal with all around) beside you, waiting to finally finish off what you started back at his car.
"Hey, hey let me try." Doyoung offers and you let him, awkwardly making way for him to attempt to open your jammed door.
It wasn't hard to feel Yeonjun's quick glances over at you before he says nothing and disappears into the black hole that was his flat. When you came over to his door the next day, the daily reminder to keep it quiet, he does one of his cheesy fuck boy lines from a 2000s movie without fail. Except he doesn't end it there.
He asks you a question you would've snorted at if it wasn't for the fact that it wasn't very humorous to have an annoying neighbor busying themselves with your personal life.
"Was that your boyfriend? Yesterday?" His very weird attempt at keeping his voice monotone and almost nonchalant has you puzzled...not in a good way.
You resort to not answering his question. You didn't have to. "From a scale of one to ten, how valuable is that information to you? It's supposed to be zero lovely neighbour."
"Well, you—you should keep it down next time," he starts, and you're confused. No way. "Couldn't sleep with all the bed creaking."
You could've even retort back and say something like 'oh, now you know how I feel', too embarrassed to say anything before just storming to your door. You did not like Choi Yeonjun.
At all.
All of that was before being stuck in an elevator with a more than a nervous wreck plus one.
"Can you calm down? They'll be here in like, less than a few minutes." You aren't too great at comforting, clearly, as he gets a lot more jittery. "Fuck! It's been five entire minutes!” —Not true. “What if—what if we just die in here, holy shit holy shit." Yeonjun was spiraling as he tries to pace in the confined space, eyes wide with panic, biting down on his bottom lip practically breaking down right in front of your eyes.
"Hey, hey look, just sit. On the floor. Calm down, and collect yourself."
To your surprise, he stops pacing, for a second looks at you before taking a breath and slumping down to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. You decide to also sit down, albeit, the awkward distance between the two of you making it less than comfortable. It feels like a few minutes before your ears pick up little sniffles.
Oh well, shit. He was crying. You attempt to not look at him, he was clearly more than vulnerable but your eyes can't help but slowly trail to your side. The confident, cocky neighbor you've had to deal with for the past five months was indeed crying.
Your perception of Yeonjun changes in an elevator that day, just a tiny bit. When he starts to apologize through his sobs, that had quickly picked up sound, you feel something. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just—fuck—"
"What happened?" You don't care, you think you don't, but you still end up asking. And listening.
"Don't judge." he says with that slight break of his voice and you nod.
Your eyes dart back and forth, hyper focused on every feature of his face as he turns to you, venting all of his worries to someone he most likely finds annoying the same way you find him—red runny nose, fox-like eyes already turning bloodshot, the way his perfectly trimmed brows furrow every few sentences like he was thinking over what he should reveal to a stranger that hates him, or his quivering bottom lip whenever he'd take a second to take a breath—your perception of him had definitely changed. Just a tiny bit.
You have no idea what possessed you to reach your thumb out for under his eyes—to wipe. Like you knew him at all. As if he wasn't the neighbor who had been the cause of all the sleepless nights you experienced. It was something about his pouty lips, pinkish tone from all the crying, making you behave so oddly. “Thanks���” Yeonjun’s strained whisper combined with his tears bordering his waterline had got you even more entranced and holy shit— you quickly retract your hand from his face, instead focusing on bright yellow light on your floor number.
“Mhm.” It was a panic hum, like any minute now you would do a very impulsive and frankly out of character thing.
But thankfully his paranoia was proven to not be true as just a few minutes go by before the elevator doors open to reveal someone from what you assume to be the rescue service.
When you get out, Yeonjun is rather quick to go to his flat, avoiding all small talk and shutting his door behind him almost as quick as he ran to it. And as for you, all night is spent sleepless once more. And the cause being once again, Yeonjun. Except it's not his music, his movies, or sex. He keeps oddly quiet that day. No, it's the short dream you have that scares you awake.
Yeonjun. Crying. And a sex dream. Oh you were fucked up.
Not only does that dream scare you wide awake for an entire night, it also scares you from ever approaching his door again. Or when you see him down at the laundry room, or at the elevator, or—
At your door?
When you open to the persistently annoying knock, you don't expect it to be your neighbor. In his signature frat look, a backward cap hanging on his head. "Hey—"
"What do you want?" You cut him off.
"Oh, well, straight to the point, um—Was here to tell you that I'll be throwing a party in just a few hours. So it'll get loud. And I won't be able to turn it down. Sorry."
"Okay." you simply say before adding, "Thanks for giving me a heads up I guess." You attempt to give a smile before shutting your door but Yeonjun stops you with the intervention of his foot between the door and the frame.
"Also. Question.” You quirk a brow. “This is probably really weird to ask because we don't even know each other, but, are you avoiding me? I feel like you are. Was it because of my …crying?" He whispers the last part like its some sacred omen.
"Huh?"
"What happened at the elevator. Can’t you—can’t you just forget about that? I mean I have no idea if you’re avoiding me because of it, but I feel like you are and I don’t know, I just need a confirmation. It’s driving me fucking insane and, and as a man—”
God, you’d do anything to not be the victim of a macho man attempting to explain how weak it is to shed a few tears. So you reveal the reality that you are currently living in. A reality where you dreamed about fucking Choi Yeonjun, A.K.A someone you would consider a mortal enemy by this point.
“I had a sex dream.” It’s the first time you see him taken aback, blinking rapidly, clueless of what you just said. “About you.” you confirm, pursing your lips at the few seconds of silence that followed after. Presuming he has nothing to say to you look down at his foot that was the sole reason you hadn’t shut the door yet.
He scrambles, flustered when he realizes, moving his feet, an incredulous chuckle leaving his lips right after, “Um, yeah, sorry— a sex dream? About me? Huh. I always knew—” With dread, you slam the door shut before he could get another word in, the last thing you see being a smug grin on his face with the newly found information settling in and god you just want to rip your hair out— the absolute last thing you wanted to do was feed his ego. Which you had clearly served to have done.
You choose to huddle up on your couch, watching a random Netflix show to pass time on your vacation day but the show’s too uninteresting so you inevitably end up spacing out.
You’re not entirely sure why you’ve been particularly childish about the dream. Especially since you’ve had awkward sex dreams before, the one about your fuck-ass boss taking the number one spot for most traumatizing. But you’ve never actively ignored anyone or even gave it a second thought other than “Holy shit that was weird.”
So, your subconscious leads you to believe you resorted to avoidance due to the contents of your dream. Said contents being you… dominating a man. Roped up cocky Yeonjun at mercy of every feather touch, squirming in his restraints, face a teary mess with his hair plastered onto his forehead from all the sweat, a ballgag drenched with his spit just to keep him shut, salivating dumbly down under his chin, the prettiest fucked out look, putting the little shit in his place and holy shit are you touching yourself?
Like some prude, you retract your hand out from under your pants and curse yourself at seeing your fingers stick because of your substance—Yeonjun was driving you crazy. And you hated it, he was at most five years younger than you and throughout your life span, you have never felt anything for a younger man—its always been a turn off. Especially when it shows. And with Yeonjun, oh it showed.
Even now as your reverie gets broken by an unrythmic knock similar to before, leading you to be faced by Yeonjun. For the second time today.
His stance is a lot different than an hour ago, almost like that one time on the elevator. “…Hey?” You start out with raised eyebrows.
Confused by his silence you assume what this was about, “I seriously don’t mind the party, I’ll be—”
Your eyes widen in surprise when Yeonjun’s lips crash on yours, roughly taking you up a wind before the realizations sets in the moment his hand start going places it should not be going. You bite down on his lip and he pulls away instantly, groaning, wide eyed, tears already springing on his waterline from the pain. He has the audacity to look offended as he yells with childish shriek of his voice, “What the hell?!”
“Are you insane? Who gave you the right to kiss me you fucking pervert?” You yell back, still shocked at his sudden advancement, finger lingering on your lips.
He visibly deflates with a knit of his eyebrows, eyes wide, "Um? You...you just told me you had a sex dream...of me."
"So?" you whisper-shout exasperated.
"I thought—"
You cut him off. "You thought what? I'd let you barge in here like some lead in a porno and...fuck me?"
He seems to think for a few seconds before literally...nodding, making you nearly gasp. "Well, sort of...yeah? I mean, women don't tell you that they've had a wet dream about you without trying to say something non-verbally." He seems almost proud when he says that, as if he has hundreds of experience in women psych.
Holy fuck. You dreamed about fucking this kid. A dumb frat whose probably got everything handed to him just because he was moderately pretty.
But maybe he wasn't too far off, because you find yourself stupidly attracted to his slightly bruised lip from your bite earlier, his eyes still glossy, iris looking up waiting for you to say something. Holy shit.
"How old are you?" If the age gap was bigger than three years—
"Turned twenty-three last September. Why?"
Two years. Oh fuck, to hell with it all.
You ignore his question and jump straight in the cold, freezing water. "How...much are you willing to do to...fuck me?" The question came out a lot more awkward than you intended.
He huffs out a laugh incredulously waiting for you to say that was a joke, but too much time has passed and now he's seriously thinking it over for a second. "Um...a lot? I don't know. I'm just super horny right now."
If you were in your right mind, you would've rejected him. Out the door he would've been because the way he drawled super had to have been the biggest turn off. But you were also a woman at mercy to her sexual desires. And right now, your sexual desire was Yeonjun.
"Okay," you exhale. "Sure. Let's fuck. But we're doing this my way."
-----
You surprisingly don't possess any toys...other than an unused dildo. You're not sure if he'd be too into that, or if you know him enough to even propose such an idea. So... you’re left empty handed; now all you had was your word and control.
And the slight age difference seemed to help it out too. “I-I’m—holy shit— I’m gonna cum noona, noona—"
Abruptly, you move from his neck that you were just lightly sucking on, hand once palming him over his sweats, retracted. He whines from the loss of friction, opening his shut eyes to give you the nastiest look as he tries to quickly bring back his high but he clearly fails when he groans, nearly feeling his eyes get teary. "Why the fuck would you do that?"
"I told you to stop calling me noona. Plus, I'm not gonna let you soil your pants the minute I get my hands on you."
Wild runs in his eyes and its unlike you’ve seen him. "Holy shit, you're so—" But it’s not intimidating. You cut him off by straddling his lap, and if you weren’t nicer you would’ve laughed at how fast his expression changed. Dumb kid.
He was totally awestricken, wetting his lips for a second until opening them again, "—fucking hot."
You strike a sharp blow across his face, the slap silencing him abruptly. His lips are slightly parted, confusion ridden in his features, his cheek quickly turning a shade of red, ears ringing—then you start grinding and his expression once again morphs into something sinfully pathetic, except this time he had those tears threatening to spill. “Don’t call me hot again. Understood?”
“It’s a fucking complim—”
You shove two fingers in his mouth to attempt of actually shutting this man up, and for a bit it serves to gag him until a lewd thought popped in your head. “Suck. Or I kick you out and you can jerk off your stupid dick alone.”
He immediately obeys, sucking on your two fingers, his saliva coating them. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was shifting his position and not attempting to buck his hips like a dumb rabid dog. He was getting off from this.
You were proven more when you start pumping your digits in his mouth, too fascinated at how he sucks in his cheeks, making eye contact, whining on your fingers. “Why’re you so frustrating? Could’ve been a good boy from the beginning.”
You rolled your hips into his more, his dick hardening you’re surprised he hasn’t complained yet. “When are we gonna fuck?” He whines when your fingers are out of his watering mouth.
Clearly, you speak too soon.
“Never if you keep being a fucking bitch. You know how much sleep I lost because of your idiotic shenanigans? Let me have my fun.”
A lot. He was insufferable the first three months, dark circles getting more deep set. Feeling anger bubble up, you move to roughly trailing wet kisses down his neck and goodness is he audible—his soft moans are truly music to your ears. “You’re loud.”
And it gets you to needily grind down on his bulge even more, your core aching. Unfortunately, he takes this as you scolding him to be quiet, and so for a second, he’s extremely quiet. “No, no, want you to be loud. Love your needy voice, such a pretty dumb boy.” you breathe, getting off on his lap.
You suck hard on a sensitive spot and he spasms, whimpering. “Noona—”
You bite down on his exposed shoulder and Yeonjun cries. “Told you to stop calling me that freak.”
“Don’t care, I wanna call you noona,” you swallow the lump in your throat because the honorific does spur you on his lap, “My noona.”
Your eyes widen, flustered hands raising to slap him again, which he doesn’t dodge. Hot cheeks so red from the two times you hit his pretty face, tears long spilling down them, is so much better than the dream—except his bratty smirk pulls you out of the fantasy. “Stop pushing it dumb frat.”
His hips buck to hump up against your pussy and you really start to think he enjoys getting slapped. “P-please, want your pussy. Been thinking about it all week.”
“All week?”
“Y-yeah, since that guy fucked you dumb, like a bitch.” If it weren’t for how distracted you were getting by his twitching dick in between your thighs, you would’ve given him another strike against his face—and maybe then he would’ve shut up for good.
“You want to fuck me like a bitch?” you slur in his ear in mock tone, “You?”
He furrows his brows, visibly getting haughty. “Yes, me. What about it?” he bites.
You whine at the cute knit of his brows, the pout that rests his pretty lips. You lean to kiss them, you’ve been thinking of doing that since the beginning—they looked so pillowy, soft, everything you could now feel as he eagerly returns the chaste mouth to mouth.
It’s quick to turn messy, spit smothered by the side of his lips when you cup his cheeks—then you let go, abruptly. Yeonjun tries to blindly chase your lips, but you’re unrelenting, working yourself on his lap. “You can’t fuck me like him Jjunie.”
“I can fuck your brains out, you—” He’s mid barking back at your statement, his ego clearly beaten down to the ground, but you do the next thing you’ve been dying to try—playing with his nipples. You graze them with your thumb when you’ve had your hands under his shirt for a good minute—a fact unnoticed by the man under you—and that gets him mewling. Mewling.
“F-fuck, don’t touch me there..”
“But I thought you could fuck my brains out?” you mock with a pout, “How come you get like this just by…”
You pinch his nipples slightly and he throws his back on the couch almost immediately, whimpering through his tightly closed lips. “Me touching your tits?”
“Don’t c-call them that.”
“Tits? But you like this don’t you?” you ask softly, studying every bit of a jerk, or a slight quiver of his bottom lip. He loved every second of this, but you needed him to tell you. You stop massaging his nips, removing your hand entirely from under his shirt, which gets his eyes to fly open, holding your wrist. “I do! I do. I like it when you play with my tits.” he says exasperated, raising your hand under his shirt again.
What a desperate whore.
You smirk, incredibly engrossed by his eagerness, and his swollen glistening lips from your brief makeout earlier. “Yeah?” you drawl, pressing on his bud just a tiny bit, and he nods. Thank god he was sensitive.
“Mhm.” he hums, still pathetically chasing your warmth. All he can think with is his dick.
“Thought about wrecking my tight, little pussy so bad all week, huh? Jerked off to the thought all week? Poor baby. Then I have to make it up to you today don’t I?” you know those words would make him act up more, getting him unbearably hard to the point its torture. And god, now your panties were uncomfortably sticking to your pussy.
“N-noona let me—let me—” Yeonjun’s crying more as the friction between your bodies gets too overwhelming for him— and gosh, does he look like such a dumb boy; none of his cocky stupid shit from earlier.
It was hot.
“Want my pussy?”
His nods are frantic, so much that you snort. “Yes, yes please. Wanted to fuck you dumb ever since you came over. You never gave me any attention, jus’ wanted to make a mess of you, cumming all over your tits—”
No way. He was a pervert from the beginning? You thought he hated your guts just as much as you did him. “Did that filthy fantasy give you a good enough reason to ruin my sleep schedule and ..and all my chances at a promotion? Huh? Because of you i can’t even dream of it—“
You were lying. Losing sleep had definitely affected your work performance but it wasn’t to the point you couldn’t aim for a little promotion. But you liked seeing his guilt pool in, crying, crying sooo pathetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know noona, I swear.”
His hiccups are enough to get you to fasten your speed on his lap, the friction working to get you off.
“Yeah. Because your undeveloped brain can’t grasp at the real worlds consequence. I hate guys like you. So immature and dumb.”
That snaps something in him clearly as he finds the tongue to retort, “If you hated me you—you wouldn’t be getting off on my cock.”
You scoff, especially at picking up on the strained moan he tries to conceal, the shudder of his body giving away the orgasm. Choi Yeonjun just came. Untouched.
You could feel it between your legs, the warmth spread disgustingly all over and you grimace. “Gross.”
He groans out of embarrassment, hiding his face with an arm. And now you’re just sitting on his wet lap, contemplating two things. Kicking him out or getting to satisfy your needs?
Unfortunately, the banging on a door pauses your movement of unbuckling his jeans and you can’t hide the roll of your eyes. “Yeonjun! Are you home?!”
Convenient timing. Not.
You don’t let your disappointment show—he came and you hadn’t. You instead turn to face him, giving him a mocking smile, “You have a party to host ...oops.” And at least end it with the illusion you had the upper hand.
But Yeonjun is not as willing to give it up. “I don’t give a shit. I host these weekly,” Oh, you know. “…Can you at the least …let me eat you out?”
#############################
a/n; lol this got longer than i intended to the point i was thinking about naming it and getting it out as an actual fic but ehhhhh ill leave it raw 🥲 wish my shitty neighbor was yeonjun but we move 😁!!!!!
#yeonjun smut#txt hard thoughts#txt smut#sub!idol#txt hard hours#yeonjun hard thoughts#yeonjun hard hours
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lessons | H.S
my masterlist <3
summary: sitting on harrys couch, he gets it out of you that you have never intimately touched someone else, and he offers straight up for you to learn off him.
warnings: SMUT, m receiving handjob and blowjob, heaps of dirty talk and praise, gentle dom! harry, virgin! y/n
a/n: I have to be up early in the morning so I haven’t done a final proofread since it’s nearly midnight, so sorry for any mistakes. this trope with h makes me weak at the knees 😵💫
———
“No way…” His tone is hard to dissect, it’s filled with emotions.
You purse your lips, looking to the grey of his couch beneath you— immediately regretting admitting the truth to him.
He’s your best friend, but god you do not venture into territory like this. Hence his shock, and disbelief at the admission that had come out of your mouth.
You were close next to his side while chatting that evening, a romantic comedy playing unnoticed in the background.
He joked briefly about himself, something about his… size. You hardly recall what he’d exactly said about it, other than him remarking about how ‘large’ he is.
Your eyes widened at the words, and he smiled a bit at the reaction.
It’s rare he gets to see you flustered, and if an opportunity has presented itself he can’t help but use it.
“What? Does that rile you up a bit?” He’d smirked, green eyes trying to find yours.
“No!” You’d hissed, glancing at the TV.
“Why’d you go all shy then?”
“Because you’re talking about your dick, and I don’t wanna know!”
He laughed at your rushed response, “anyone would’ve thought you’d never seen one in your life.”
Your response is delayed, in all truth you had— briefly, an unwanted showing at a college party, one of your ‘friends’ drunkenly trying to get in your pants. He’d pretty much flashed you before you got the fuck out of there. So how much it counts, is more the part you were hardly sure about.
“Of course I have.” You’d said, trying with your all to sound convincing— like as if you’d done more than just see one.
But the energy had shifted the second you’d paused, and the words pouring out your mouth were not helping your case.
“Wait— have you not actually seen a dick bef—“ his brows were furrowed, lips quirked, still unsure how serious you were until you cut him off.
“God, no— yes— shut up!“ you’d cupped your hands over your eyes, wishing to go back and just laugh at his stupid joke instead of getting all flustered and ending up here.
“You haven’t?” He pushed a more little.
A sigh had pushed out your nose in defeat, “hardly.”
So now it leaves you here, staring anywhere but at him as he mutters a ‘no way’ to you.
You felt more than embarrassed, you were mortified at this point. You and Harry had been friends since your first year of primary school, so to have him find out something you have kept to yourself for so long and was so personal was terrifying.
Having never really covered this topic with you, he was undeniably curious, “so you’ve never touched one…?”
“You’re making this so much worse.” You scrunch your eyes closed.
“Ok… so that’s a no.” He laughs a little, and all you could do was nod. He nudges you with his shoulder. “Hey, yknow it’s ok right? M’not judging you or anythin’”
You take a careful glance to see his expression, it’s sincere and you take in a careful breath.
“I know. It’s embarrassing though.” You advert your gaze back to a thread on the soft fabric of your sweatpants.
“S’not embarrassing love, I was just surprised. You’re a gorgeous girl— y’know I think that— so I just assumed some guy was lucky enough to have been with you— intimately that is.” He says casually, then adding, “and y’ve had a few guys, so I just thought…”
Your stomach fluttered at his compliments, even though he never shied away from giving them to you.
“Those relationships never lasted long enough for us to, uh, get to that point.” You clarified, clearing your throat.
“I don’t wan’ you to feel uncomfortable, or like I forced you into talkin’ ‘bout it by the way.” He quickly clarifies, “jus’ was curious, is all.”
You find the courage to lock eyes with him again, “i wish I wasn’t so… inexperienced— I really do. But it’s beyond the point of awkward when people find out, you know?”
You were on a rant now, he’d officially opened the door to all your thoughts, “and now it’s like, I have no real way to learn. Unless I go out and hookup with a random, but I’m not desperate enough for that yet— nor comfortable with the idea.”
“And being a uh, a virgin this late in college is— not really common. So automatically people kind of get weird about it.”
He wished he could say the hardening of his cock was just from the fact they were talking about sex— and that he had been sticking to his hand for a while now— but he knew that the real reason was much more related to you, which he felt almost guilty about. You sitting here opening up and all his prick can think about is how gentle and unsure your hands would be around him.
Keyword being almost.
“Y’know you can always touch me… right?” The words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them, a vague innuendo laying between each syllable.
“I- pardon?” You stuttered, uncertain if he meant what he just said in the way your brain had processed it.
“Like, if you ever want to learn or do anything. I’m here.”
Your eyes fell to his groin without a thought behind it, and you could see he was perked up in his sweats. He watched immediately as your gaze travelled down there.
“Just an offer. Don’t have t’take up on it now— or ever if y’don’t wan—“
In the few seconds of him talking you’d got a rush of confidence to do this. He’s practically handing himself to you on a silver plater.
“Can I?” The words were a fast question, a lingering hope behind them.
He almost groaned at them, the fact you were comfortable enough to be seemingly following through with his offer.
“‘Course you can, darling.”
You shuffled a little next to him, reaching to brush your hand over the fabric covering his groin, watching as he lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down.
You did it carefully, and your lips parted with a little gasp as his cock slipped out— he wasn’t wearing any underwear.
The tip of him was flushed to the same colour of his lips, and he wasn’t kidding about his size. At the base he had neatly trimmed hairs with a tiny curl to them.
You glanced back up at him, unsure what to do now. You almost had whiplash, because a minute ago you have never thought you’d see— let alone be able to touch his cock— and now you seem to have freedom to do whatever you please with it.
“S’alright darling, touch me however you want.” He reassured you, pressing his shoulder into you again. Solidifying the fact you really could do whatever you wanted with him.
Your hand hesitated a bit as you reached out to run a gentle finger on the underside of him.
Your hands were so fucking soft, softer than he even imagined, so he knew already this was going to kill him.
Going off the only kind of sexual experience you had— which is obviously with yourself— you didn’t want to be too gentle, so you wrapped your hand around the base of him and gave an experimental pump of his cock.
He groaned at the contact, not expecting it in the slightest. You were surprised at the sound that you’d just elicited from him, and the way he jutted his hips up to your touch.
“Fuck, sorry.” He carefully apologised, not wanting to scare you off. You were anything but scared though, more so fascinated, and frankly a bit turned on.
You said nothing as you continued to touch him, trailing your fingers up to the head of him. A small drop of precum seeping out.
He looks at you intently as you stare, “taste it, if y’want, love.”
With his prompt, you swipe your thumb gingerly across his tip, gathering up the few beads and lifting it to your lips.
It was a small portion, but he watched to see your micro-expressions at the taste. It was nice—really nice, in all honesty— compared to what you expected.
It was easy to see on your face you wanted more.
“Can I, uhm…” you paused, trying to figure out a way to word it, “taste you…?”
He pinched his eyes closed, running a hand through his now unruly hair. It was hard to control himself, he just wanted to pin you down and please you himself— thank you for making him feel so good already. Wrap his mouth around your probably puffy clit and make you come before he showed you what it feels like to be fucked.
Obviously he couldn’t do that. And not that he wanted to act like you were a delicate flower, but he was trying to keep you feeling comfortable— and that everything could progress at your pace.
“Jesus, love. ‘Course y’can.” He groaned, struggling to peel open his eyes.
“Can you tell me how you… how you like it? Show me even?” You ask, gently.
He shifts his hips, “Anything you give me I will like. But I can kind of direct you, tell you what feels good, I guess? If I can form a coherent thought with y’mouth ‘round me.”
You nod slowly, feeling the wetness gather between your thighs at his praise.
Deciding it would be easier, you slip off the couch onto your knees, placing yourself between his legs. You felt intimidated a little, the sight of his pulsing cock this close infront of you.
Yet still, you were salivating over it. Grateful you had a secure enough relationship to be able to do this. Especially with someone you felt so much for.
You glanced up at him, watching as he tracked your every move. He could’ve moaned aloud at your soft eyes looking up at him like that.
Your hand runs up his leg, resting to bracket the side of his thigh as you lean forward, gently kissing his tip.
A puff of air sounded from his lungs, egging you on just enough to keep going. You swept your tongue over the same spot you kissed, but trailing it down along his shaft.
You felt a little clueless as to what you were doing, in all honesty. So you glanced up, looking for a prompt on what to do next.
You wished it would just come to you naturally. Obviously in all the porn, they took the cock all the way down their throat, bobbing their heads and sucking like it was on their life. But you had no idea what your limits were, and how realistic half that shit is anyway.
“Sorry…” you muttered looking away, feeling your face flush with a tinge of embarrassment.
“God, Y/N. Don’t apologise, doing well for me baby. Just take me into your mouth, if you can.”
“Ok, I just want to make you feel good. So please tell me if I do something that has the opposite effect.” You sigh.
“I will, even though I highly doubt I’ll need too. Y’have such a nice mouth. Never knew it’d feel so good wrapped ‘round my cock.” He says this while cupping your cheek, and a part of you wants to just bend over and let him take you right there on the floor.
You never knew it could be like this. So open and filled with reassurance.
You lowered your lovely warm mouth back over him, sliding his tip past your lips, flattening your tongue on the underside of his smooth head.
“Fuck, so warm.” He whispers before continuing, “try and suck on me, hollow out those pretty little cheeks.”
You slide further down before you do, filling up your mouth with him, “don’t take more than you can handle sweet girl, use your hand for the rest.”
You nod around him when he says that, merely to show your taking his advice, but he groans loudly as you do.
So you do as he asks, wrapping your hand around what’s left of him and begin to suck.
He’s immediately lost in the sensation, digging warm fingers into the grey of the couch beneath him.
He can’t lie, you’re an attentive learner. You listen to the sounds he makes as you try something, like pulling your mouth all the way to the tip before gliding back down— or how you take note the way his body reacts with a shudder when you squeeze the base of his cock with your warm hand.
His directions are quickly falling away, into the back of his brain as you let your mouth explore his cock. It seems you’re fairing ok, now you’ve had proper encouragement.
You had been so in your head about making a mistake, now that you finally weren’t as worried about that, you could just focus on his body. Be intune with his reactions.
“Baby, you are so good at this.” He moans, driving his ass into the couch to keep from bucking up into your throat.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, the image of him fucking your throat comes to fruition, and he has to shove it away. Leave it as something to jerk off to later, when he starts to miss your hot mouth, which probably won’t take all that long.
“Told me y’never touched anyone like this before. Think that’s a lie, how good your little tongue is working me. Y’gonna have me coming soon.”
His words bring a flutter to your core, the way his accent is all husky from pleasure. Pleasure you’re giving him.
“Such a good girl f’me, hmm?” He asks, and you hum a yes. The vibration of it flys through his cock, constricting around his spine as he moans out.
He stares down at you, eyes glazed with pleasure. Spit is glistening around your chin, and no doubt when you pull off his cock will be coated in a thick layer of it.
“Christ, faster for me baby. Moan all around my dick.” His thoughts start to spill from his lips, and your brain lags trying to process how filthy they all are.
Not that you’re surprised he’s like this whatsoever, but to be hearing it with your own ears, and it to be directed toward you makes it a whole other ballgame.
“This mouth is mine.” He curses, and you dig your fingers into his thigh as you feel your cunt throb.
“All fuckin’ mine. Trained up just for me.” He groans, and you slip off him just enough to get a few words in.
“Yours, Harry. Please… pull my hair.” You plead, wrapping your mouth over him after a short second, quickly jumping back into the fast rhythm you’d built up.
“Fuck, not sure gonna be able to be gentle f’you if I do that, darling.” He hisses, clenching his fist, imagining your hair between it.
You whine around his cock, looking up at him, desperate for it.
At this point, you don’t care. He can be rougher. You pretty much have instilled every ounce of trust you have in him— which you had done prior to this, but especially now.
Your hand scrapes up his shirt, nails clawing at his taut abs, pleading for this.
He thinks he could almost just die, seeing your needy side quickly being unleashed per his undoing.
His resolve caves, his hand coming to nestle into the hair close to your scalp. You moan at the feeling of it merely being there, his cock pulsing on your tongue.
“More dirty than I ever could’ve thought, Y/N. Wanting me to pull your hair like this, begging. M’trying to be gentle with you— making it so hard for me.”
You suck harder, and he sticks to his word of being careful, his hand tight around your hair— but never forcing you down.
Even though you don’t think you would have minded if he did, he was clearly getting close.
“Love, shit!” His legs were shaking, and his face was flushed a gorgeous pink.
“You’re gon’ make me come.” He grunted, “Hard.”
He told you this so you could pull off, maybe finish him with your hand or something. But you didn’t budge, you just kept sucking and sliding your perfect tongue all over him.
He couldn’t imagine finishing this fast with anyone else but you. Your messy, virgin mouth making him nothing short of a train wreck.
“Y/N, baby, I’m— holy fucking shit—“ you squeezed his balls in you hand, and he was hurtling toward his high.
“If you don’t pull off I’m, god, god I’m gonna come down your throat.” He rushes out, whole body ready to snap.
You don’t budge, you take as much of his dick as you can, wanting to feel his warm come shoot into your mouth.
The second he realised you wanted him to finish in your mouth was the same second he felt an indescribable pleasure hit him.
His jaw dropped, and stomach muscles clenched so hard he would’ve keeled over if he was standing up.
You pulled back. Hand coming to stroke where your mouth had left. But you kept his tip in, which was still spurting his come, placed on you tongue.
It coated it, dripping down onto your bottom lip and chin. And just the sight of it would be enough to get him off for the next 5 years.
His Y/N, his best friend, who he not even 10 minutes ago found out was a virgin, had just taken his load half down her throat and half smeared all over her tongue.
“Fuck me, baby. That is so unbelievably hot.” He almost whined, completely out of breath.
“Rub it in with my cock. Then swallow it, love.” He said, watching as you immediately did so, coating your tongue with him.
“Such a good girl. Swallow.”
You did that too. Placing a little kiss on his thigh after, and standing up.
Your knees felt a little weak, and you sat down next to him again.
He reaches over, kissing you without shame of where your mouth just was.
His hand slipped to your waistband of your probably soaked-through sleep shorts, and you halted it, “You don’t have to, Harry.”
“I know love, I want too though. But if you don’t, then that’s ok.” He caresses your hip.
You take your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking. You do. But at the same time, maybe not just yet.
Despite what just unfolded on his living room couch, you still feel almost shy. Not ready.
“Maybe not yet… that was— it was a lot. And very unplanned.” You purse your lips, worried he’ll be offended or something.
“Of course, darling.” He scoots his hand away, laying it on your cheek instead.
“We’ll take it at whatever pace you want.” He smiles, kissing a quick peck onto your lips.
“How about, i turn that off,” he gestures to the TV, “‘n we go cuddle?”
“That sounds great, H. Thank you. For everything.”
He chuckles, plucking his sweatpants from the floor and slipping them over his legs, “I should be thanking you. Thank you for trusting me. And for giving me probably the best orgasm I’ve had in ages.”
You flush, harder than you’d like to admit. Maybe this won’t be a bad impulsive arrangement after all.
———
#harry styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harrystyles smut#harry styles oneshot#best friend!harry#best friends to lovers#fanfiction#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#fanfic#dom harry styles#virgin!reader#gentle love#soft harry#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry styles x you#harrystyles x reader
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worth the wait
for jjk valentine's day 2024
summary: you're all dressed up for yuki's return from her business trip. too bad she's going to leave you wanting and needy for a little bit longer.
word count: 3.5k+
warnings: NSFW content (under the cut!), reader wears lingerie, fem! reader, teasing, eating you out, tribadism/scissoring, fingering (a little), body worship, calls you needy, sweet thing and princess
The image shows up sent, but undelivered yet again. There’s a thread of three images: a close-up shot of all the little details on your two piece lingerie, a mirror selfie, and then a shot of your hand artfully placed over your bare stomach as you lay down.
Yuki’s flight was supposed to land three hours ago. From there it’s a 45-minute cab ride to your shared apartment. You had still been waiting patiently in bed during hour one, knowing that delays were inevitable, but by the second hour, your frustration had kicked in and you’d decided to anxiously pace instead. She’d promised to be home on time for a quiet night with you, but there’s only so much power she has over these kinds of circumstances.
That doesn’t mean you can’t be annoyed about it.
With a huff, you sink down onto the couch, arms crossed. At least if she saw the message you wouldn’t feel so upset. You’re just about to call it a day and pull on a big t-shirt to get comfy, maybe make dinner for one, when the front door shakes slightly. Quickly following the noise was a jingle of keys falling onto the floor.
“Shit.”
It’s Yuki’s voice. A brief flicker of joy churns in your chest, before you remember her lack of response and the annoyance settles back in. Even so you find yourself practically bouncing over to open the door for her, forgetting about your current state of dress. The frustrated look on your face fades into a smile as you see her. She looks weary, but she still manages to shoot you a winning smile.
“Hey. Look at you.” Her voice drops to a purr as her eyes slowly travel up your bare legs, to the panties that barely cover you, and landing finally on the lacey bra that’s showing a lot more than it covers.
In just one devouring look, you’ve forgotten about your earlier annoyance of her being late. Instead a blush burns on your cheeks. Yuki doesn’t even show any sign of being surprised, even though she hadn’t seen the messages. The messages! She catches on to your facial expression as the thought crosses your mind.
“Sorry.” She says apologetically. “My phone got absolutely destroyed in a fight, so I couldn’t text you at all.”
A dramatic groan exits her throat. It all happens quickly – her rough kick at her carry-on bag to send it into the apartment, one hand holding onto your waist to push you stumbling backwards as she pushes the front door closed behind her and buries her face into the crook of your neck.
“Did you get all dressed up for me? Hope you took some pretty photos of it before it gets all dirty and ruined by you.” She kisses your ear. With both hands holding onto your waist, she’s half-pushing, half-carrying you until you’re back in the bedroom where you had been waiting your evening away.
The reminder of it makes you furrow your eyebrows together. “I was in the right mood before…” You let your sentence trail off, squirming under her scrutinising gaze.
It doesn’t phase her in the slightest. “Want some help warming up?”
That smile of hers is very difficult to say no to.
Yuki likes to take her time.
Even with exhaustion written all over her features, she seems determined to tease you incessantly. It starts with wandering hands, and an intense furrow between her brows as she takes in the way your skin bends and complies to her squeezes. It’s almost as though she’s searing this–you–into her memory. She kneels between your legs, keeping them spread apart in a firm hold that makes you whimper at how easily she moves you around.
She pulls you down to kiss you tenderly, mouth barely brushing against yours. All you can feel is the plushness of her mouth and her warm breath as she teases you. It’s you that has to chase after her lips and she laughs as you do so, just staying out of reach.
“Needy little thing. I thought I taught you better than this.” Yuki’s fingers tighten their hold around your spread thighs. She leaves a string of kisses across your cheek instead, giving your skin tiny licks as she does so. You’re so sure she mumbles an apology at one point, but she quickly follows it up with her hands pinching at your still-covered nipple. She’s not obviously teasing, but it’s enough to make you restless.
Her hands move so slowly, latching onto every patch of bare skin with renewed enthusiasm. She’s not satisfied until she hears any sound come out of your mouth at her touching, and then she’ll move on to the next location. There’s no surprises. All her movements are easy to follow, one after the other: her fingers grazing over your waist until you giggle, a breath of throaty laughter in your ear as you squirm at her digging her knuckles into your shoulders, her hands splayed over the top of your thighs… and then the movement of her hands running up your whole body to do it all over again.
Finally, she unclasps the top piece of your lingerie, letting it fall partway down your front before she envelops one of your nipples into her warm mouth. A kiss for the other one. It sends a lightning throb of pleasure through your chest. A kiss in the centre of your chest. Every breath feels shorter than the next. You haven’t even realised that your arms are tensed by your sides, holding you up so that you’re still sitting. Yuki squishes your sides and your tummy again, forcing a giggle from your throat that fades into a moan when she drags a finger up your clothed slit.
“Aww, sweet thing.” The end of her words is accompanied by a well-timed nibble on your shoulder. “If I could, I’d just touch you like this for the next few hours. But you already look all needy.” Her fingers are back to running over your bare skin instead of where you’re starting to feel an ache for her. Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are already blown. With the lingerie top hanging off you, you’re the very picture of debauchery. Just the way Yuki likes you. “C’mon then.”
One piece of clothing finally comes sliding off, leaving you in just your panties. She kneels down carelessly in front of you, her hands greedily gripping onto your hips as she blows warm air towards your aching core. She kisses your covered clit with a messy and loud ‘mwah’ that has you trying to close your legs, although you’re not sure whether it’s out of embarrassment or pleasure. But she doesn’t let you. In a motion that seems effortless, she hooks your legs over her shoulders, locking you into place.
“Stay still, princess. And I promise I’ll give you a good reward for it, okay?” Yuki sends you a wink which has you squirming in protest.
Before you can voice your distress, she’s touching your heat with her pretty fingers, pulling your panties to the side and teasing your hole open. And she knows just how to do it right as well; knows exactly where to press down on your inner thighs with her other hand to have you aching for just a little more pleasure. It’s so slow, the way she traces your hole with two of her fingers, occasionally flicking up towards your sensitive bud.
“Mmh… Yuki!” To your dismay, your voice stutters through your uneven breathing as she touches you.
“Here?” Yuki murmurs, turning her head to nibble your thigh and giving the bare patch of skin a kitten lick. “You’re all shaky. Don’t go shy on me now. You were so upset when I came back late. Aren’t you going to tell me off?”
You don’t want to. You don’t even remember that she came back late, too busy focused on her fingers, too busy wanting her mouth–
Yuki pauses, grinning between your legs. “Easy. Tell me off and don’t hold back about it.” This isn’t fair.
You let out a frustrated sound, inching towards the edge of the bed to be closer to her face. She follows your movements, pulling back slightly.
“You should have taken better care of your phone–” A gasp leaves your lips as she sucks your clit into her mouth gently. How the hell does she want you to tell her off when she’s so determined to please you? “Should’ve gotten a new– ahh– one…”
“That’s the best you can do?” She’s speaking directly into your heat. It feels hot. Her tongue dives inside, and you lose your mind. A swath of pleasure courses through your veins and your hips jerk uncontrollably into her warm mouth. Good thing she’s got such a good grip on you. It’s so wet, and it sounds so sloppy, the way that her mouth sucks and the way her tongue curls into you. It’s not enough to hit that spot, but it’s enough for you to jerk forward, a hand twining through her hair desperately.
A low whine leaves your lips. She continues her action, squeezing your thighs every time they clench. You’re not even sure how she’s still managing to keep your legs spread apart from how tightly you’re trying to curl them around her head, but she seems to be enjoying it. Her fingers join the mix as her mouth moves to your clit, and suck hard, just as her fingers push their way inside you. Too easy. The moan that leaves her mouth, along with a breathless mumble of your name has you mewling again.
You should probably feel embarrassed at how quickly they slide in, but you’re too distracted by the way her fingers curve up, right onto a spot that has your mind blanking. It comes all too suddenly, the sudden onslaught of pleasure causing the tightening in your stomach to release.
“Yuki– that feels really– mnh!”
Her eyes look up at you, noting the way your head tilts back slightly, the red flush covering your cheeks and waits for you to look at her again. “There you are.”
Your arms are trembling from the exertion of holding yourself up, and from the constant flexing of muscles as Yuki touches your sensitive bud and sends a pleasurable tremor through your whole body again. “Yuki.” You breathe out. Her mouth is wet from you.
“Mmm, yes?” She must know how she looks while kneeling in between your legs like that with that innocent smile on her face. A laugh sneaks out from her throat as your mouth drops open. Yuki traces two fingers up and down your slick. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to talk too much.”
Your hips jerk in sensitivity. A thrill of desperation runs through you when she pulls her fingers away, a sticky trail following her action. Pleasure thrums through your thighs at the thought of more. It must be messy. You must have made that mess. Your heart rate picks up again. Yuki licks her lips before she says her next words.
“I know what you’re really after.” She pulls away from you and another whine leaves your lips at the loss of her warm mouth. “Shh, you’ve been so good to me so far, so compliant. Don’t stop now.” She eases out of her clothing easily, tossing it to the side as she clambers on top of you, moving you further back onto the bed like it’s nothing.
Her voice continues as she adjusts the both of you, wrapping one of your legs around her waist. “You don’t want something filling you up today, huh? You just want me on top.”
“What?” You ask breathlessly. You can feel it. She’s wet too, she must be for those sorts of sounds to be heard from where she’s using her hips to grind against you. “You always have so much to s– mnh!” She presses down hard with her hips, just at where both your sensitive buds brush against each other.
She leans down, pressing your chests against each other briefly and you can feel her heart racing as she pants.
“Sometimes.” She whispers into your ear, pushing against you harder at an angle that has you slack-jawed. “You’re so needy. And when you want something inside…” Somehow she manages to slide her fingers in during her motions, pulling it out quickly and you can feel your walls flutter at the loss.
“Y-Yuki–”
“You’ll beg and whine.” She stresses the words, leaning back up again to go a little faster. She doesn’t let your leg slide off her waist, holding onto you tightly to keep her stable on top. “Just like how you are now.”
All you can do is cling onto her waist as she moves on top of you fluidly.
“Always so messy.” She coos, wiping a sweaty strand of hair away from your face . “You never let me take my time with you, huh?”
It’s overwhelming, and you think you’re blabbering some nonsense about how it feels good, but it doesn’t even sound like words to you. You’re too far gone with how her hips are moving against yours; slowly, but somehow, sending so much through your body.
“But you like this.” She slows again, moving her hips in a circling motion as you try to catch your breath. “You’d prefer me to just take you, right?”
Your voice shakes and you’re writhing under her touch, but she’s a little too accustomed to keeping you still. “It’s too much!” Gasping, you feel your mind become overtaken with pleasure. You can feel Yuki, all warm, her weight pressing down on you pleasurably into the sheets. You can feel another tightening in your belly, and it’s hot. It’s really, really hot. A breath of her name leaves your lips instead.
“Thought of you a lot while I was gone.” She murmurs, pushing into you a little harder. “How did I know I’d come home to you dressed up as a little present for me to unwrap?”
It’s the sound of her excited laugh that finally pushes you over the edge, a white-hot searing feeling thrumming through your body. Just seeing you lose control under her has her reaching her high too, letting out a breath of your name that you don’t hear through your pounding heart and ringing in your ears.
You throw your arm over your eyes, trying to catch your breath. Yuki’s hands massage your shoulders, once, twice, and then she pulls back tenderly. Letting go of your leg comes first, and then she kneels between your legs again. A choked whine leaves your lips as you feel her kiss your clit. It’s too much. Thankfully, she realises it too and lets you try to relax on your own. Every slow movement sends an electric thrum through your body as you try to stretch out your body. It doesn’t hurt. It just still feels a little too good.
“So, Valentine’s Day, huh?” Yuki’s voice breaks through your clouded head. It sounds slightly muffled. Slowly, you let your arm fall off your face, staring at the ceiling.
“Mhm.” You voice back, throat still spent from half-heard moans and trying to speak while your body shakes with aftershocks of pleasure.
Yuki places a kiss on your forehead, arranging you properly onto the mattress. A small grunt leaves your lips as she sits on top of you. She tilts her head, keeping you in her line of vision. “I didn’t know you were the type to want to celebrate things like that.”
You shrug your shoulders. There’s a pause and you dare to peek at her face. Her expression is neutral, but you know better. It’s her thinking face. What could she possibly be thinking about? Was it weird?
In all your time together, you’d never really made a big deal of celebrations. Neither had she. She was happy with whatever you wanted, whether it be a party or something with just the two of you. Tsukumo Yuki is no pushover. She argued calmly, never raising her voice. You met her friends and she met yours, and they were all such wildly different and interesting people that you’d started to realise where her confident and bold nature had arisen from. You often lost track of all the people she knew. The perks of travelling the world, you decided.
She laughs, loudly and unashamed. It should startle you, but it just makes you look in her direction instead.. “Something funny?”
“No.” Yuki leans down, elbows placed above your shoulders as her hand delicately runs through your hair. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
You curl your fingers to the side of her cheek, sliding your fingers through some of her hair. “Mmh. You’re upset because you didn’t plan anything for us, huh?”
Her eyes close briefly as she feels your touch. She shrugs, and thankfully, there’s no sign of an apology on her face. “Next time.”
“Oh, there’s a next time?”
“I’m going somewhere next month.” She ignores your question, moving to sit beside you instead, stretching her legs out unabashedly, taking up space like she always did. You move to sit up beside her as well, eyes not moving off her lips mouthing off her words.
“Oh.” Without meaning to, there’s a sinking feeling in your chest. There’s never anything wrong with her business trips. She made reasons to go places but she always came home to you. She always made sure that you knew that you never strayed from her thoughts while she was overseas. It was like this before you’d started dating. Still. Something about her bringing it up to you now felt insincere, like she was pushing herself away from you. You two were dating, sure. Did she love you? Did you love her? Did that even matter at this point in time?
Yuki turns her head to face you properly, and you can finally see her face. It causes an odd thump in your heart. Her face is relaxed and her eyebrows aren’t lightly furrowed in thought like they usually are. There are still things you don’t know about her.
“I want you to come with me.” She says simply, as though those words haven’t frozen you in place.
This is new. This is unexpected. Tsukumo Yuki might as well have just proposed.
Your fists clench on the mattress. “I don’t have the money or the time set aside right now to–”
“My treat. I’ll pay.” She cuts you off.
It means more than that. You can see it in her eyes, the calculating tilt of her head as though she’s wondering what you’ll say next. She never minces words and says whatever she thinks or feels out loud brashly. So why did it feel like she was dancing around something else here?
Your response comes out as a mumble, still trying to catch up with what’s actually going on. “Okay.”
“Just okay?!”
You nod. She responds to your acceptance by grumbling something under her breath. It has you leaning closer, trying to figure out what she said. “What was that?”
“I said,” she pauses in favour of swiping a thumb over your cheek, sighing. “That I don’t know what I expected.”
You blink up her confusedly. Your mind is still a little bleary, and you’re sure you’re going to fall asleep soon. Your whole body feels the happy tiredness that comes after every session with Yuki. But you refuse to let it take over. Not before you know. Not before she tells you what’s really on her mind.
“Look.” She sighs again, turning to face you properly and crossing her legs. “This is new to me.”
Dazed, you feel yourself laugh at the thought. You were friends before this. You were one of the many people she met up with when she craved friendly company, and then suddenly she wasn’t. Suddenly, you were going on dates and moving in together. For some reason, the thought of this being new to her was hilarious.
“I’m being serious!” She says back, not in an annoyed way, but rather like stating a fact. “You, me, I’ve never done this before. Taking things further has never been something I’ve thought about.” Her voice trails off. “I like this though.”
You feel your breath hitch. There it was – unequivocal truths.
“When I was away this time, I kept thinking about you, waiting at home. And then when I was at the airport, without my phone…” She rolls her eyes at the memory, raising an eyebrow at you when you chuckle. “I was really thinking about how awful it was that I couldn’t contact you in some way, to tell you that I was coming home.”
There’s an odd stress on her final word. You think you get it now. “Hmm,” is all you reply with.
“So it makes sense that I’d want you to come with me. Then I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
You snort. “Solving the problem as it comes your way, huh?”
“Obviously.” She smiles at you, running a hand through your hair and nudging you closer to her bare form. She only continues once you’re comfortably leaning against her side. A loud, contented sigh leaves her lips. “So come with me.” She whispers, so that only you can hear it, even though it’s only you two in this room.
You nod, feeling her kiss your head. “Okay.”
#tsukumo yuki x reader#yuki tsukumo x reader#yuki x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#tsukumo yuki smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk yuki x reader#tsukumo yuki#yuki tsukumo#brainrot for her is so much <33#alathea valentine's day 2024 fics!
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Better with You
Genre: fluff and a bit of comfort, mutual pining
Pairings: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Idia, and Malleus x gn!reader
Scenario: confessing your feelings to him with a kiss <3
Notes: reader is the prefect!
Riddle // make a wish.
The atmosphere inside Ramshackle, while often very lively, was quite calm on this late evening. Riddle sat at your side, chiding you in the middle of your joint study session for once again not having your uniform in order.
You’re trying exasperatedly to get him back on task when an eyelash resting just below his eye catches your attention. You wordlessly reach your hand out to his face, and the air turns tense the moment you make contact.
“What are you...?”
Forgetting the purpose of his rant, Riddle’s words die on his tongue and his gray eyes widen, reminiscent of the new moon just outside. He leans into your touch before he can help it.
“…hold still.”
His lips part, watching your look of concentration with uneasy anticipation. Your gentle touch, much to his dismay, is yet another part of you that captivates him. He'd consider giving up sweets forever if you'd stay like this, if you’d close the space and just…
But the moment ends in a second, as if the bubble that had come to surround you two in those moments burst like he feels his heart might. You swipe your finger under his eye and pull back with a successful smile, but Riddle doesn't mirror it. Noting this, your expression turns slightly distressed.
“Sorry, there was–I should have asked–” you attempt to explain, showing him your finger, but he cuts you off abruptly.
“I-I think we're done for today.”
His face is on fire, surely. Riddle curses both himself and the betraying waver in his voice for being so ridiculous. Why is he being so childish about this? Of course it was just an eyelash, did he really think you were going to kiss him?
Beet red, he turns away from you so fast it must give him whiplash.
The tension in his shoulders as he hastily packs up puts you on edge. So you reach for him, justly confused.
“Riddle? Hey-”
“What?” he snaps, tone far harsher than he wants it. He stops packing his things yet refuses to look at you, the zipper on his bag suddenly far more interesting.
Deciding against touching him, you take a second to reflect. Things were fine until you reached out to him, and even then, he didn't seem upset until you pulled away…
From there, it doesn’t take more than a few seconds for you to connect things.
You scoot closer, taking his face between your palms gently and turning him to face you. Riddle feels blinded by the sparkle of your kind eyes, hope welling in his chest as he turns to putty in your hold once more.
"Sorry,” you smile, returning to the collected attitude he’s always found enchanting. “Was this what you wanted?"
And his heart is nearly pounding out of his chest when your lips meet his. He melts as you thread fingers in his hair, the taste of the pastry he’d offered you earlier still on your tongue. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you toward him with urgency like he can’t get enough. And truly? He can’t.
He was charmed from the very first time you smiled at him, and as the nights passed by and you cemented your place in Twisted Wonderland, you cemented your place in his heart as well.
Although Riddle didn’t get to make a wish on his fallen eyelash, he still got what he wanted.
Leona // a moment of your time.
“Could you help me record something for class?”
You came into the botanical gardens with only one mission: finally confess your feelings to Leona. So your plan? To fake an interview assignment, and kiss him by surprise.
Although some of your friends felt it would be a struggle to carry out, you thought it had a solid chance at success. Leona hardly goes to class and consequently doesn’t ever know what’s been assigned. So it’s unlikely he’ll be able to call bullshit on this ‘homework’ you made up.
Also critical to this plan is that Leona is incredibly weak to your wishes. That fact alone gives you hope that your feelings are requited, and fills you with enough bravery to follow through with this. And it checks out, for all you have to do is briefly mention the ‘assignment’ and he’s blinking up at you from where he lays, stretching tiredly.
“I'm kicking you out if it takes too long,” he sighs, sitting up and rolling his shoulders. “What is this for?”
“I just need to ask you a few questions, your majesty. It’ll only take a minute.”
Leona rolls his eyes at the nickname and takes his time in standing, posture relaxing once he’s at your side. You walk to where you’d set up your device and pretend to hit record.
“Okay, ready?”
A hum is all you receive in response once you return to him. It does little to quell your nerves, but the hardest part–in theory at least–is over. All that’s left is to show him how you feel.
He’s not quite looking at you until you snake your arms around his neck.
You tug him down and press your lips to his before your nerves can kick in, the kiss so brief that he doesn’t react at all. Leona simply stares, totally thrown off by your boldness, his eyes looking to the camera in confusion. They return to you with a twitch of his ear, trying to understand what game you’re playing.
“It’s not actually recording,” you ease his worry through a laugh.
The tension that had him frozen leaves him through another roll of his eyes.
“Stupid.”
He growls, grabbing your waist forcefully and connecting your lips once more.
This kiss is anything but brief. Leona can be protective and a bit possessive, you know that, but you feel it all in this moment with his arms around you and his mouth on you. He kisses like he’s insatiable and you’re his favorite meal.
You're practically gasping once he lets you pull away. One of his hands moves to your face, his thumb ghosting over your lips as he revels in the evidence of how much he affects you. It seems he stole all your confidence through that kiss, with how shy you look now.
“…I like you.”
“Yes,” he laughs, “I gathered that.”
Azul // stress relief.
When Azul gets stressed, he likes to lock himself in Mostro Lounge's VIP room and turn everyone away.
This is common knowledge to students of Octavinelle, with Jade and Floyd being especially used to these moments of frustration. But now that you, the all-knowing and ever-caring Prefect, are in their lives? Well, the twins have trained themselves to track you down in record time so you can, in their words, “fix him.”
You don’t mind it since it's not very often that your assistance is even required. All you really do is talk with Azul anyway, and it was this quiet time together that allowed you to discovered that you like him as more than a friend.
Most times though, you part with Azul wishing he’d confide in you a bit more instead of bottling everything up. But his company is comforting to you nonetheless, and yours to him considering you make him lighten up so much that the twins have started teasing you for it.
However, those thoughts are pushed aside as you sit beside him on the couch of the VIP room yet again. Your knees are tucked under you so you can angle your body to him, and he sits with his limbs all stretched out. The lights are dimmed today and he addresses you very quietly, indications that he must have a headache. He’s more irritated today than you’re used to, and the last thing you want is him reaching a breaking point again. So with a bit of gentle coaxing, you get him to explain himself.
“The lounge and school,” he murmurs, “it can get a bit exhausting.”
You don't know if he wants words of comfort, but you figure you'll start there.
“Azul, you work really hard. We all see it and admire you for it. You should take a break when it’s too much, no one would hold it against you.”
His head falls back against the couch, eyes shut and breaths deep. “While I loathe the work at times, I’d just feel worse if I gave it up.” He laughs dryly after a moment. “I sound pathetic, don’t I?”
The absence of a response from you for several seconds pries his eyes open, his head falling in your direction.
Now, despite all his shifty behaviors, Azul tries at all costs to avoid shoving his problems onto you. He knows how selfless you can be, afterall, and he knows you’d rush to his aid should you ever think he needed it. It's why he never tells you things, because he wouldn’t be able to handle the look on your face if you found you couldn’t help him. But to his misfortune, that’s the exact expression he finds you wearing now.
Fumbling for what to do, he follows your eyes to the hand he has resting on the couch and moves it to your leg as if on autopilot. You place your hand over his and squeeze.
“You aren’t pathetic at all, Azul. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about the person I like that way.”
Somehow you had shifted even closer to each other without noticing, but neither of you moves away as the silence lingers. You both lean in at the same time, eyes fluttering shut.
Azul lets you take things at your pace, sighing every so often against the warmth of your mouth. You take his hands and place them for him, and it’s laughable that he’s so happy to be completely at your mercy. You're patient with him as you kiss for what feels like minutes, his adoration for you only growing.
He hopes you’ll stay forever, here by his side. For time with you is his favorite way to break free of the unrelenting world outside that door.
Idia // a voice like honey.
Idia Shroud, for whatever reason unimaginable to you, doesn’t think he’s worth listening to.
It took quite some time for him to start speaking to you off-tablet and in person, and even longer for him to do so comfortably. But even after all that progress, he never felt okay rambling in front of you. His insecurity is stubborn.
You’ve been sitting in Idia’s room for about an hour now, scrolling through your phone on his bed while he plays games. You hear him start grumbling to himself suddenly, and prompted by your inquisitive hum, he slides off his headset and swivels around.
Although he struggles to make eye contact, the way he starts waving his arms around dramatically while speaking captures your full attention.
“–and it’s just so unfair! I’ve been playing this game for like, what? Three years to get good?”
“Mhm.”
“And these losers use hacks to just annihilate the whole lobby!”
“How despicable!”
“Exactly!”
You’re grinning by the time he’s finished, looking entirely lovesick when he finally catches your eye. He freezes instantly, voice picking up several octaves as he squeaks, “w-why are you always staring at me like that!?”
“Like what?” You tilt your head.
“Ugh!”
You can’t help but burst into laughter as he looks away and his hair ripens like a strawberry.
“I’m not really sure what you mean,” you restate, sitting up on the bed. “I just love listening to you.”
Idia has trouble believing you. He’s always thrown off by the idea of people liking—loving?—anything about him, after all. He averts his eyes again, likely considering what to do to get you out of his room before he embarrasses himself any more. But it seems the Great Seven don’t plan to let him off easy, because all of a sudden you’re striding up to him, crouching into his space and looking far more concerned for him than is necessary.
You part his colorful hair, “you okay?”
Idia swallows. To answer your question, no; you’re unfairly breathtaking from up close and he’s going kind of lightheaded, honestly. His eyes flicker to your lips for only a second, but it’s long enough for you to notice and for Idia to know he’s doomed for eternity. You tilt your head to the side and look at him curiously.
“Would a kiss make you feel better?”
He nods before he can process what he’s getting himself into. But you burst into laughter again, and that totally makes up for it.
Cradling his face in your hands tenderly, you allow him a moment to stop you if he wishes. He doesn’t.
It’s awkward at first, kissing him while he’s sitting and you’re crouching. Thankfully Idia’s played enough dating sims to sorta guess what he should do, so he guides you onto his lap and you find this new position is much better. He keeps you as steady as he can with how nervous he feels.
The kiss doesn’t last long, and that’s probably a good thing since neither of you were expecting this turn of events. Idia hides his face in your neck and hugs you tightly, expertly hiding how flushed he is.
The color of his hair, however… he can’t hide. But you’ll keep that a secret for now.
(Side note, from Ortho: be gentle with his brother. He noted several massive heart rate spikes from Idia today, and he’d be worried if he didn’t know of your plans with him.)
(Side side note, from Ortho: If you’d just consulted him to begin with, he’d have been quick to correct your misunderstanding. It was never really insecurity that silenced his big brother, just that you make Idia “feel weird mushy feelings” when you stare. He didn’t quite get it either, but that’s what Idia always says after you leave, anyway.)
Malleus // a lesson learned.
Malleus loves to ask you questions about your old world when you’re out on walks. It’s easy conversation; you’re always forthcoming with stories of home, and he loves hearing about how it functioned there without magic, something that he still finds baffling. It’s his way to learn about what made you the person you are.
Occasionally though, his questions stray from things like inventions and politics and wander to topics that catch you entirely off guard.
“How is affection displayed in your home world?”
“…affection?”
You blink a few times in quick succession. When you turn to confirm the question, he’s already watching you, nodding with a smile.
“Oh, well it’s really the same as it is here. Hugging, holding hands…” you trail off before continuing in a smaller voice. “And kissing, I guess.” He hums thoughtfully.
Speaking about this with Malleus, knowing the weight of your feelings for Malleus, has your heart pounding. Hugging and holding hands are things you’ve done with him before and still do, quite often at that. He must make this same connection as he doesn’t spare those a second thought, focusing instead on the last thing you listed.
“Kisses? Those on the cheek?”
The crunching of leaves underfoot fills the silence as you contemplate how to answer.
Kisses, even ones on the cheek, are territory you haven’t crossed into with Malleus seeing as your unlabeled relationship often leaves you hesitating when you consider it. (Also because Sebek would probably spontaneously combust if he happened to witness that, and that’s another problem you don’t need on your hands.)
So, while thinking of any way to change the conversation topic to avoid going into it, you agree absentmindedly.
“Mhm. And on the mouth, for lovers.”
Malleus stops you just as you realize your mistake.
“How fascinating. May I ask you to demonstrate?”
His dark eyes lock onto yours as if daring you to twist his words, and it dawns on you that this was exactly his plan. You know what it is he expects as he closes the short distance between you, taking your chin between gloved fingers.
There’s nothing left to do but kiss him.
Despite the fact that he claims to be inexperienced, Malleus knows exactly how to run his hands over your body until you’re so tingly you feel like you’re floating. His thumbs press into the skin just above your hips when he deepens the kiss, your legs nearly giving out as a result. The cold air can’t soothe the warmth you feel from him.
“I like these kisses,” he purrs when you finally part, chuckling fondly at your breathless state “Anything else you’d care to teach me?”
a/n: this took me forever to edit I am so sorry. But thank you guys so much for the support on my last work, I wasn’t expecting it and seriously appreciate it so so much!! <3 kisses
#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst fluff#twst imagines#twst x reader#riddle x reader#riddle rose hearts x reader#leona x reader#leona king scholar x reader#azul x reader#azul ashen grotto x reader#idia shroud x reader#idia x reader#malleus x reader#malleus draconian x reader
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I LOVE LOVE YOUR visiting pedro on set with our daughter imagine 🥺🥺🥺 can u pls do more maybe our daughter visits set again and meet bella and they gang up against pedro? that'll be so cute 🥺🥺🙏🙏🙏
This (lovely) ask referred to this post if you're interested.
She had begged you for a whole week. A whole week of prayers and cries, because she "wanted to see daddy at work again"
And yes it was cute, and yes her father had done a really good job at teaching her how to make puppy eyes, but have you ever had to listen to tantrums on tantrums for five days uninterruptedly?
Because trust me, the first word that'll come to mind won't be "cute" anymore.
So of course you gave up.
And that's how you found yourself on set again.
Pedro's eyes sparked as he caught you sitting on his chair with your daughter on your legs.
He smiled and shook his head, murmuring something to someone next to him.
They looked up at him for a second before nodding with a smile.
"Daddy!" your daughter's excited voice made everyone turn to look at you.
You snorted to yourself, as Pedro and, who you now realized was his co-star, walked up to you.
"Hi there peach" your husband grinned as he took her in his arms.
She immidately hugged him as tight as she could, almost cutting his air supply, but Pedro could only chuckle.
"hi baby" she mouthed to you, knowing how possessive your daughter got when in his arms.
"hi" you smiled right back, before turning to this co-star.
"so you must be-"
"Who are you?" Your daughter interrupted you with a bitter thread to her tone
"Emma..." you scolded her "be nice"
"no, it's alright" they smiled "I'm Bella, I work with your dad"
Your daughter's gaze moved attentively between Bella and her dad.
"your name rhymes with mine" she stated after some time, making Bella grin,
"it does"
"Why do you work with daddy if he's old?"
Bella couldn't help but laugh, as Pedro feigned a shocked expression
"Trust me Emma, I ask myself that every day"
"hey!"
"do you know..." Bella ignored Pedro as they bent down to murmur to her as if they were about to reveal a secret "he even has to lay down to help his back sometimes, it's unbelievable"
A giddy laugh left your daughter's mouth
"One time we had to stop for half an hour because he couldn't move his back anymore"
"That happened at home too!" Emma giggled "he picked me up and Mom had to help him get me down again because he was stuck"
Bella snorted
"Ok I don't know if I like this combo" Pedro shot you an amused look
"Oh, I love it"
"Would you like a tour, Emma?"
Her mouth widened in excitement, and she turned to look at you and Pedro
"Can I?"
Your husband looked at you for approval, and once you nodded, he turned to his daughter
"of course honey, just be careful," he said, putting her down
" I'm always careful"
"Sure you are, you little pest" Pedro chortled, ruffling some hair on her head "Now go, have fun" he urged, watching as the pair disappeared behind the set.
"I thought she was here to see me" he joked, sitting down beside you
"I think you might have some competition"
"Yeah" he laughed, "I think I might"
__ __ __
"Speaking of which, where are they? It's been half an hour"
"shit" your heartbeat quickened a little bit, as you immediately jumped off your chair.
"hey Mark!" Pedro shouted, waving at a crew member "Have you seen Emma and Bella anywhere?"
"uh yeah, I think they were going to the trailers last I saw them"
"Thanks" he yelled in response, already walking out of the room with you following right behind.
"I think we should check Bella's and then yours"
"right" he nodded, following orders.
He knocked at the door, but no reply could be heard, which made your anxiety rise even more.
"Bella, you in here?"
Again, silence on the other end.
You looked at each other, a mutual understanding traveling between you.
Pedro opened the door, but everything looked dark.
He slowly took a step in, looking around
"Bell-"he was about to call, but two shadowy figures emerged from right behind an open door.
"boo!" they shouted in unison, making Pedro take a step back as his heart threatened to stop.
what the fuck?
And just then, two distinguished laughs reverberated through the trailer as the lights switched on.
That's where they were.
Who knows how long they'd been waiting for you.
"you..." Pedro's eyes widened as his brain finally started working again.
"It was us, daddy!" Emma giggled, immediately joined by Bella, and shortly after... by you.
"y-yeah" he took in a breath, his hand going to his poor heart "Yeah I gathered that"
"did you get scared?" your daughter asked, still smiling widely as she walked over to Pedro.
"Yeah peach" he shot you a look of pure, actual terror, making you chuckle "You scared your daddy almost to death"
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#dad!pedro pascal#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal x fem reader#the last of us#joel miller#fluff#tlou#pedro pascal smut#the mandalorian#narcos#javier peña
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Warrior Song 15
Find the series masterlist
Well, we made it to the end of this fic. This is not the last I'll write of Master Chief, but I may take a break for a bit. I think I managed to wrap up everything with this last chapter, but if you have any lingering questions, I'd love to hear them!
Now, let's get this lot squared away, shall we?
Warnings: Swearing, mention of injuries, little bit of politics, everything will be okay.
Word count: 2.7k
By the time you caught up to John, there were a group of Sangheili walking towards him. He didn't have a weapon in hand, so you figured it was safe enough.
“Master Chief,” the one in front greeted, silvery armor different from what you were used to seeing. “It has been a long time.”
“Arbiter.” Chief inclined his head, ever so slightly.
“You are a difficult man to find.”
Chief just shrugged. You held back your laughter.
“How did you find us?” Fernando joined you on your other side, subtly bracing you to help you get weight off your injured leg.
“There was unusual slipspace activity,” Arbiter said calmly. “Whoever was controlling the computer was sloppy - pieces fell through, and from them we were able to determine the coordinates of this weapon.”
You blinked. You’d gotten probably half of that, but you were also exhausted, so. Whatever.
“We have injured,” Chief cut in, fortunately not looking down at you. “Limited supplies.”
“I have enough to share,” Arbiter agreed easily. “I will summon aid as well from the nearest human ships. In the meantime, you must tell me what happened here.”
Chief nodded once, taking a step forward. Kelly (who had appeared from nowhere and nearly gave you a heart attack) ushered you and Fernando away, more or less gently.
“Kelly, what–?” You started to ask, frowning.
“You are supposed to be resting,” she reminded you. “I could always carry you.”
You huffed but didn’t object further. Okay. Fine. So she was right. But you wanted to know what was going on!
Somehow you ended up back in bed, pouting, a tray of food on your lap and Kelly making sure you and Fernando both ate. (Fernando opted to sit on the floor.)
After the third time you huffed at your food, Kelly huffed back at you.
“Keep that up and I won’t ask Fred for updates.”
You pouted harder but ate in silence.
Vaguely, you could hear the camp buzzing around you, excited voices and the stomp of feet and movement all combining into one continuous drone. You’d bet news of the Sangheili ships had spread fast. Or maybe they’d heard about the human ships coming to aid too? How long would that take? How long had you been asleep, even? Long enough for Arbiter to arrive, clearly, but how long had that taken?
“Stop thinking,” Kelly advised, poking your cheek.
“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled. And then paused.
Welp. You were dead.
Kelly huffed a tiny laugh. “So the explosion did knock the sense out of you,” she teased.
You had no defense for that, so you just hunkered down in your bed, ears burning. At least you weren’t as sore today, though probably still some level of dehydrated. Your thigh was definitely the worst of your injuries still.
“Why did you blow up Atriox?”
The sudden question from Fernando startled you, and you blinked rapidly as you refocused on him. “It seemed like a good idea at the time? And, I mean, it’s not like he was friendly.”
Fernando shook his head. “No, I know that, but why you?”
Oh. That was the issue. You swallowed, looking down at the blanket pulled up over your lap. “It’s not like I sat there and debated the pros and cons,” you started slowly, picking at a loose thread. “It just… happened. I was there. I had a grenade. Nobody else was close enough, and he was doing something, and I couldn’t think of any other way to stop him.”
Fernando perched next to you, taking one of your hands in his, ducking his head a little to meet your gaze. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you got out okay, yeah?”
You sniffled once, hands starting to shake. “Only because of John,” you whispered, shaking your head a little. “It was dumb, but I couldn’t do nothing.”
Fernando wordlessly pulled you into him, one hand patting your back gently but a little awkwardly as you fought back tears.
“Here. Tea.” Kelly nudged you, ever aware of her strength, holding a mug until you took it. Fernando looked a little relieved, honestly. You couldn’t blame him.
“Any idea how long things will take?” You took a sip of the tea. A little bland, but warm and soothing.
Kelly shrugged, a monumental shift of broad shoulders. “Arbiter is chatty. Could be a while. Longer for ships to arrive.”
Naturally. You made a face but didn’t protest, just drinking your tea. You still felt unsteady, like thinking too hard about anything might tip you out of balance again. Logically, you knew you shouldn’t be surprised - you’d had a harrowing experience that was going to stay with you for a long time.
But logic was hard to come by when you were busy wrestling your emotions back under control.
The quiet was almost too much, after the stress of the last few days. But it was good, too - at least it meant there wasn’t any further excitement. Against your will, your head started to dip, eyelids growing heavy. The quiet was also very good for making you sleepy, at least when you were running on so little sleep.
Fernando pushed you to take a nap, promising he’d wake you when something happened.
So when you did wake up, bleary and confused, to someone sitting next to you, you thought it was Fernando.
“Go back to sleep,” John murmured, voice low and rough. A heavy arm settled over your waist as John laid down behind you, already dressed down.
“What happened?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep.
“Nothing yet.” He breathed out slowly, tickling the back of your neck. “Sleep.”
You huffed half-heartedly. You wanted more answers. But the furnace-like heat of him was soothing, his even breathing lulling you back to sleep before you could voice a complaint.
You woke next time over-warm, restless and finally alert again. It took a bit of doing to get out from under John’s arm, but you did it.
Only to find him awake, lips twitching with the barest of smiles, eyes bright with amusement. You dropped your head, torn between embarrassment and amusement.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough.” He didn’t move, just watching you.
“Good, you can catch me up on everything that I missed yesterday.” You sat up carefully, mindful of your bruises and aches.
John shrugged, looking up at you while still reclined. “Nothing interesting.”
“Nothing interesting?” Your eyebrows shot up. “Somehow I doubt that.”
John shrugged again, though his lips twitched. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Arbiter has agreed to give us aid,” he said, either taking pity on you or deciding not to test your patience. “UNSC ships are on the way, but it’ll take time for them to get here.”
You nodded, not quite sure how you felt about that. You’d been away for so long, and then this Halo had become its own kind of existence. You didn’t know what would happen after this, anxiety rising at all the possibilities parading through your mind.
You breathed in slowly. You didn’t need to have all the answers right now. You were okay. You had time.
John was watching you, though he didn’t reach for you. He just watched.
You managed a little smile. “Breakfast?” Sure, you did both need to eat, but also you needed out of this conversation and out of your head.
That got him moving, and it wasn’t long until the two of you were walking to get food. Your thigh ached, forcing you to go slower than normal, but you grit your teeth and worked through it. John didn’t offer to carry you, which was good because you probably would have hurt yourself smacking him.
It was odd to see Sangheili around the base, standing taller than most everybody else. They kept out of the way, mostly, though a few of them had humans with them. You couldn’t hear the conversations, but you imagined mostly it was to do with supplies. Probably.
John still attracted stares, as always, and you could just hear murmurs rippling through camp about the encounter with the Endless. How anybody knew, you weren’t sure, and you weren’t sure you cared to find out. It didn’t really matter, anyway. Soldiers were terrible gossips, so the story was bound to get around and probably even grow.
But he wasn't the only one attracting stares.
You finally caught on when someone ahead of you in the chow line actually stopped and turned to look at you. Not at John. At you.
“John,” you whispered, gaze flitting from person to person, uncertain.
“Ignore them,” he muttered, gaze flicking down to yours before he gently nudged you forward.
You frowned but didn't say anything more, just getting your food and then finding an empty table. The stares bothered you though, in a way they never had when it was just John people stared at.
And then Fred plopped down next to you, making the bench shudder under his sudden weight, the bulk of him blocking most of the rest of the room from your view. The arm he threw over your shoulders helped.
“Good to see you awake,” he rumbled, flashing you a smile.
“Thanks.” You relaxed, finally doing more than just poking at your food. “What did I miss?”
“Oh, not much.” Fred smirked down at you. “Just that you became a legend.”
You choked on your bite of food. There were several moments of flurry as both Spartans tried to help, until you were no longer choking. “What?” You managed to ask, a little wheezy still.
Fred and John exchanged a look before Fred cleared his throat. “Well,” Fred started, unusually slowly. “Word has gotten around about your part in defeating Atriox.”
“I'm sorry, my what? My part?” You couldn't quite help the way your voice slowly went up in pitch.
“You did roll a grenade under him,” John pointed out, entirely too reasonably.
“That was hardly anything,” you pointed out, gaze darting between the two Spartans. “I was mostly useless.”
“You survived.” Fred spoke quietly, almost gently, his gaze fixed on you.
Your jaw dropped a little and you looked between the two rapidly, not sure how you felt. How you should feel. Your head throbbed, too much too soon, and you shoved away from the table abruptly. It felt like every eye in the mess was on you as you walked swiftly out, palms clammy, breathing fast.
You didn't want any of this. You hadn't done that for recognition, or anything like that. You'd just wanted to help.
A call of your name finally jerked you to a halt, and you blinked rapidly. You'd made it almost all the way to the edge of camp, the Pelican not far from you. Fernando watched from the open door, hair extra ruffled.
“You okay?” He asked, brow furrowing in his concern.
“Just…” You shrugged, hands flapping uselessly at your side as words failed you entirely.
Fernando didn't push. Instead he stepped down onto the grass, walking over to you. He looked at you, closely enough that you weren't sure what to think, before he nodded once.
“I see you learned part of why I avoid the mess.”
That startled a huff out of you. “I think so,” you agreed, dry but more settled.
“Come on, got some rations here.” Fernando dropped his arm over your shoulders, leading you into the Pelican. “Did Chief bother to catch you up on the actual news?”
“I think so,” you murmured, settling easily into the copilot seat and taking the bar that Fernando handed you. “We're getting supplies and stuff from the Sangheili, and human ships are on the way to us.”
“That's about it,” Fernando agreed. “Joy says it shouldn't be more than a week.”
“Right!” Joy popped to life between the two of you with an easy smile. “And then everybody will get to go home!”
Home. The thought filled your chest with an odd ache. You weren't ready to think about home yet. “But we've had so much fun here,” you snarked. “What are we doing about the remaining Endless?”
Joy shrugged, though the look she shot to Fernando was almost worried. “I don't think that's been decided yet.”
“You are doing nothing,” Fernando scolded, even as he held out a canteen to you. “You are staying where it is safe.”
You snorted. “I'm staying with John.”
Fernando eyed you, clearly debating if he could win an argument. His lips twitched. “Stubborn.”
You laughed quietly. “What's that old saying? Pot something kettle?”
Fernando just snickered at you. “Finish eating,” he ordered you. “And drink more water.”
You blinked at him, momentarily nonplussed. “Since when did you get bossy?” But you took another bite of the bar.
“Since things keep happening and you keep getting hurt.” Fernando watched you to make sure you ate and drank before he finally looked away, satisfied.
Silence settled between the two of you, comfortable after all this time together.
You wondered if you'd still be able to find this kind of quiet after the rescue ships arrived.
“You know you're not going to end up alone, right?”
You jerked your gaze to Fernando, who wasn't even looking at you, but out at the view ahead of you both. It looked deceptively peaceful, with only a few lingering marks of humanity around.
“I don't…” You swallowed, not sure how to finish that sentence.
“Chief will follow you wherever you go,” Fernando continued. “And I'm with him. Pretty sure Blue Team follows him too, mostly. So you won't be alone.”
You breathed through the shock and revelation of that. You'd unpack that issue another day.
“Neither will you,” you pointed out, giving him the same courtesy of watching the long grass sway.
Both of you pretended not to notice signs of high emotion in the other.
Heavy boots coming up the ramp made you both turn, watching as John approached. He didn’t say anything, just stood calmly between the two of you, one hand resting on your shoulder.
He didn’t magically make things better. The panic still gnawed at your chest, the ache in your thigh hadn’t abated, and the dampness under your eyes hadn’t suddenly gone away.
But you felt better, anyway. Just having John at your side helped.
Things weren’t okay, and possibly never would be. But you were all alive.
That was enough.
–
It took a week for human ships to arrive.
Arbiter had led an assault against the remaining Endless, with Blue Team of course. You stayed behind, with Fernando threatening to sit on you. You did hear afterwards that there were fewer Endless than anticipated. Kelly seemed relaxed… except for the tap of her fingers against her thigh.
But there was nothing else to be done. If some Endless somehow managed to get off the Halo, nobody knew how, or where they had gone. There was nothing to be done.
It took a little time to arrange evacuation - the wounded went first, then everyone else. Chief, of course, insisted on being on the Pelican, along with Blue Team and yourself. Fernando, of course, was piloting.
You personally made sure Lindsay and Carter got on board a ship.
It was odd, seeing the base so empty. Not many were left beyond a few Sangheili and the last of the survivors of the Infinite.
“Strange, isn’t it?” Fernando murmured, unconsciously mirroring your thoughts, even as he stood next to you.
“It is.” Your lips twisted in some complicated expression. You wouldn’t miss life here. You’d never miss those months of fear and cold and survival. But all the same… “Just as strange to suddenly be going back.”
Fernando hummed soft understanding. “It’s not all bad,” he said with a little teasing nudge of his elbow to your ribs.
“No,” you agreed, hearing John coming up behind the two of you. “Not all.”
“These are the last to board,” John informed you, one big hand settling at your waist. “The Pelican is loaded.”
You breathed in deep, slowly. This Halo truly was beautiful.
Maybe someday you’d be able to look at long grass and flowers again.
“Let’s go,” you said, turning away from the view to look up at John, staring into the familiar gold of his visor.
Even though you couldn’t see his expression, you knew he smiled. Just a little. Just for you. “Together.”
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mists of celeste ➻ 50
➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader
➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut
➻ word count: 17.1k
➻ rating: M
➻ warnings: language
➻ summary: Months into your stay aboard The Horizon, it becomes apparent that things are not as cut and dry as you thought, and that you might have bitten off more than you could chew with this crew.
⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist
────────────
act seven ➻ part two
The transport can barely hold the entirety of your crew as it stands now — your extra guests included — and it makes for a rather cramped setting. Part of that feeling could be due to how San stands close to you still, his hand overlapping yours on the handle hanging down from the ceiling of the vehicle as you stick to the edges where it gives you a clear view out the windows. Hongjoong’s figure lingers in your peripherals, seated not far from where you’ve parked yourself, but as the rest of the crew fidgets to make themselves comfortable, San shifts to block your line of sight with the captain. You turn to the right and look across the transport. Mirroring you on the opposite end stands both Berserkers, but it’s Mingi who you make direct eye contact with. In a movement that’s invisible to all but prying eyes, he shakes his head every so slightly left and right.
It’s a pointless gesture, as you had already settled to resign yourself to the fate Hongjoong laid out for you in this mission. Maybe he’s simply warning you against fighting back again. Maybe he’s answering some unknown question you haven’t even thought to ask yet. He knows more than he lets on, that much is true, and now you know it for certain given his presence at the pinnacle of your humiliation thus far.
You’ve been asking yourself what your defiance is for a great many times since sharing that conversation with him, however, for better or for worse. The answer is always the same anyway.
The transport lurches as it moves off the dock. Far below, the waters running through the gorge glisten with the sunshine reflecting off its surface. Though a vibrant bright green, the color appears more milky than it is clear even at this distance, and thick tendrils of fog paint the darker corners of the base of the gorge. A far cry from the beauty you saw waiting across the dock, what lies below doesn’t look at all inviting.
Beside you, San is picking at a loose thread on his form-fitting top, and you lightly swat his hand away from the spot before he pulls a hole in the fabric.
“Hey,” he murmurs just quietly enough to avoid prying ears.
“Hey,” you echo back. Silently, you push your body closer to his until you’re close enough to feel his breath on your skin.
“Nervous?”
“A bit.”
San presses his cheek against the side of your head.
“Just like any other mission. You’ve got this.”
“One without you. And Seonghwa.”
San tuts gently as he leans further down to your ear. “But with Jongho and Mingi.” He passes you as reassuring a smile as he can manage, and it does little to ease the bundle of nerves coiling in your gut. Your brief time in the open air on this planet was enough to make your skin crawl and itch. “I would go if I could,” he continues, and his gaze flits like he wants to look back over his shoulder at his captain but thinks better of it at the last second.
The barge lurches to a halt, and you lay a hand against San’s jacket to keep yourself steady when your body threatens to throw you backward. He covers your fingers with his own, remaining that way until everyone has filed out of the transport. A man stands beside the doors, though he isn’t much of a friendly face with the way a scowl seems to be permanently etched into his features. He shoves something into your hands and then into San’s before slapping the side of the transport to signal for the doors to shut.
“Remember protocol unless you’re looking to be outta your damn minds!” he yells across the small crowd that forms your crew. One glance down shows you that he’s handed you a gas mask, and everyone around you bears a matching one. He wears one similar, bound around his neck with a clasp that must be like the one attached to the back of yours. San silently takes it from your grasp and brings it up and around your neck — a crude echo of a romantic gesture one might do with a real necklace. “Masks up when the church bell rings three times at night, no later than that. Kid’ll need a smaller one from one of the stalls in the market, so be sure to get ‘im one before nightfall. As for where you stay at night, be sure to find some reputable spot with air filters. Otherwise, you’ll be wanting to wear them masks while you sleep too.”
“Gas masks and air filters…” you mutter as you thumb over the item now attached to your neck. “What’s up with this place?” San hums and steps to your side. He falls into step alongside you, and in that same moment, Yeosang deigns to turn where he stands and look you over.
“Natural hallucinogens in the air. They come up from the water below. When the sun is out, you will be unaffected because the heat from the sunlight prevents the toxins from spreading beyond the water so much, but once the sun sets, it becomes potent enough to enter your bloodstream and settle in your system. At that point, you wouldn’t be able to tell reality from whatever fantasy your mind conjures up for you.”
Your fingers tighten around the gas mask.
"What a lovely vacation spot for us then," San grumbles.
However, despite that inherent danger now looming over your head, the town ahead is quite visually stunning, and its intrigue only grows as you walk into the streets alongside the crew. Hongjoong, of course, hangs near the front as both your captain and the one who knows where you're all headed. Jongho and Yunho drift back to where you and San walk close enough to touch hands, but neither one of you makes the move to do so. It's sharply contrasted to how Wooyoung walks beside Yeosang a few steps away, with such little space between them that their shoulders overlap and Wooyoung's feet threaten to collide with Yeosang's at every step. Cute, in a sense, and a welcome sight given the falling out you had witnessed some time ago now, but it still lingers in your memory every time you look at them interacting. Off to your right, Mingi has found a place beside Luca, and on the other side stand the other three recent additions to your crew. It only leaves one unaccounted for, but the soft sounds of footsteps behind you give you a clear enough idea as to where Seonghwa is.
You've been refused the pleasure of sensing his emotions since your more explosive fight. Though you haven't done the same to him in return; if anything, you hope that he can feel the sharp edges of your anger each time you look at him.
You must be scowling now at the mere thought of the man because San’s fingers dance across your knuckles before securing his index finger around your pinky — a display of affection discreet enough to hide from prying eyes.
“I don’t like the vibes of this place,” Yunho mutters from a few steps ahead of you. He coughs as you pass by a pillared torch that burns purple flames and opaque smoke across the streets. Given their multitude on either side of the cobbled roads, you’d make the safe assumption that these are meant to be street lamps to light the streets, minus the electricity, and it would make a good amount of sense for the atmosphere to shift the color of the flames in some manner. Though there hardly seems any need for the lights when you were so adamantly warned against setting foot outside after dark, unless the natives ignore such warnings for themselves.
“This is where we’ll be staying for the duration of our stay here!” Hongjoong’s voice booms back across the group, and when he turns around to face his crew, your eyes glance across each other for a split second before they fall to the man behind you. “You’re welcome to go in and make yourselves comfortable, or you can explore the city as you see fit. Everyone stay connected over the comms channel and be indoors by dark.”
The group disperses for the most part, though you stay close to San’s side, content to follow him instead of deciding what to do yourself. The building is nice enough: simple in its design and very minimal in terms of windows, but you suppose that makes sense given what you’ve been told of this place thus far. It blends in with the other buildings on the street with its dark brown wood and ivory trim, and the lanterns that hang from the overhang of the roof bear the same purple-hued flames that the streetlamps do. It does make everything bear a sort of ominous atmosphere to a certain extent — it would be far more unsettling in the dark, as most things are — but a promised safe haven is simply that: a safe haven.
“You—” Hongjoong lunges for Yunho’s arm as the man tries to turn into the hostel “—keep close to me. Normies are particularly desired in places like these.”
As Seonghwa steps around you to head for the doors, his glare on the back of Yunho’s head is as apparent as it is heavy. Yunho himself is equally caught off guard as he is confused, but he receives no further explanation beyond that simple ominous statement.
“I’ll get everything sorted and take care of the payments,” he says to the captain, earning nothing more than a firm nod and a wave of Hongjoong’s free hand. His gaze sticks even when Hongjoong’s does not. While the only witnesses to the affront are you and San, it's still uncomfortable to a high degree. It doesn't continue for much longer at least, as the man finally steps through the door to the hostel and leaves the rest of you in silence. Your gaze drifts over to view San’s side profile. He glances down to look at you in return, eyes turning to pretty crescents, and you loop your hand around his elbow.
"I imagine this won't be a stress-free trip as we wish it to be," he whispers, pulling you closer to his body as you start to follow behind Hongjoong and Yunho. You can’t respond right away. The pair ahead of you pulls your focus for a moment, in a stance so similar to your own with San that it causes realization to dawn on you.
“We’re okay, right?” you ask out of the blue. For a moment you think San hasn’t heard you, but he very clearly has based on how stiff his expression becomes. Lie to me. I’m so desperate for your lies.
“Yeah,” he nods, “we are.” It tastes sweet and feels heavy on your skin.
“You know, Y/n, it was San who recommended that you have an important role in this mission.” Hongjoong’s voice slices through you at a diagonal, hunting the spot where it will hurt the most like it’s for sport, and his timing is so apt that you believe he’s heard the words exchanged behind him. You don’t give him the pleasure of looking in his direction. San lifts his free hand to lay it over the one you have secured around his elbow like he fears you letting go but your grip is still firm. Nails dig into his exposed skin. You know it will leave a mark.
San’s face is ripped to shreds with a mixture of regret and sympathy. His expression is too genuine for you to find any deception in it.
“I didn’t think he would take it seriously, I… in retrospect, I must look fucking stupid because I thought that he would take both of us on the mission.” San’s eyes drop to the ground. “I asked to go. I wasn’t expecting him to choose Yunho over me.”
Again, Hongjoong pushes himself into a conversation not meant for him.
“San isn’t fully healed to the point of mission clearance. Both of our resident doctors said as much, for differing reasons.” You wish that the claws he’s dug deep beneath San’s skin to twist around his heart and make him do as he pleases were not so tightly wound. You wish you could know with certainty that removing them would not kill San in the process. You wish you could know that the blood seeping from San’s chest in the aftermath would not be on your hands.
None of those things are certain or doomed to change, however, and you must remain firmly in place where you are with San and hope for an outcome other than agony by his side.
The captain reaches down between his body and Yunho’s, and you watch the man lace his fingers through Yunho’s in a way that almost seems natural enough to believe that it’s a regular occurrence. Nothing more than an attempt to keep the man by his side, however, and you turn your chin away from the sight partly because you feel like you’re encroaching.
“Go on and pick out whatever you need,” Hongjoong’s voice sounds far sweeter than you know the man to be, with a sort of melodic lull to how he speaks that makes your skin itch. This sort of intimacy is unnatural for him. You cannot tell whether it’s genuine or not either. The tips of Yunho’s ears are stained red; you can see as much from where you stand despite the man’s efforts to keep his head firmly forward. “Do you want me to get you anything nice while we’re here?”
“It’s fine.” His tone is as stiff as he is, yet his hand clings to Hongjoong’s like the other man will let go at any second and he can’t bear the thought of such a thing happening. “We just need to restock some medicines, and I want to see what they have in the way of ingredients. I imagine they’ve got lots of local stuff I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere else. It would be nice to try some new stuff. Do you think there’s an apothecary nearby? Having some options other than pills would be good… the locals ought to have some recipes I can’t get anywhere else. Oh, and painkillers! I’m running low, I could have sworn I had a few extra bottles in stock—”
“You mentioned you had forgotten to restock them last week.”
“Ah, did I?” Yunho finally dares to glance down at the man walking alongside him. Despite the clear question in his tone, what you can see of his expression from his side profile does not match that — because what do a sharp stare and taut frown have in common with confusion?
“You’ve been frazzled lately; it’s understandable.” Hongjoong turns to look up at him in return, and a smile that’s soft around the edges pulls at the corners of his lips. His free hand moves up to brush down the strays in Yunho’s bangs. “Let’s pick up some more just in case you're unsure, yeah?”
“Do you wanna sneak away on our own?” San’s voice comes from close to your ear, closer than you expect it to be, and you inhale sharply as your gaze tears off the discomforting scene unfolding feet ahead of you. He’s already pulling you away before you even offer up a few nods in response, and if Hongjoong or Yunho notices your departure, neither one comments on it. You quickly discover, however, that you are not alone in your discomfort as San speaks again under his breath. “They weren’t speaking at all days ago and now he acts all domestic like that with Yunho as though nothing happened… it’s infuriating to watch.”
“Not at all surprising though, is it?” your words come out through a mutter. You expect some level of retaliation from San given how staunchly he’s defended Hongjoong to you in the past, but now he’s quiet. “Love isn’t easy.”
“Love’s not, but what he does is.”
What he does to Yunho and Seonghwa both — those things should not be considered love to any degree, but you aren’t sure how a man such as Hongjoong shows love. If he feels it at all, that is.
"I'm not sure there's a single one of us who has done it perfectly, I suppose," San continues after a breath of hesitation. "But we can try. To mend the wounds we may cause by accident along the way, and to meet others halfway. Learn how best to love." He doesn't look at you directly but the words are spoken into your heart and soul. You cling to his arm tighter still.
Is this real or am I lying with a lion intent on devouring me for the sake of another?
San gives you his love, and you do not doubt that one bit — those around him have vouched for his fragile heart and kindness far too much for you to doubt him to that degree. There is simply a line in the sand you cannot decipher, where San’s love intersects with Hongjoong’s influence over him. You don't wish to think of these things as of now, however. This trip is meant to be a vacation to some degree, even though you're tasked with other things, and you want to take a vacation from thinking about your captain and his manipulative bullshit as well.
“Did you do this sort of thing often? Before I joined the crew, I mean.” San resituates your hand so that it now sits encased in his, and he pulls it down to dangle between your bodies. The action feels natural, coming with an inherent comfort that makes your heart pulse with emotion.
“From time to time here and there. I wouldn’t say we made a habit of it by any means, but it was a whole lot harder to take trips like this when the crew was more full.”
“Not even after the crew got smaller?”
“Oh, we had a few! But Hongjoong was—” San pauses and his face contorts a little before he continues “—working himself to an early grave at that point. Early on, we took a small trip when it was just Jongho and me on the crew. Hongjoong was doing business, of course, and Seonghwa was still in the phases of not letting him go off anywhere alone, so Jongho and I got to have something of a break.” The memory must be a rather fond one given how wide the smile that pulls at his lips is. “After Hongjoong discovered Jongho in the cargo bay, he changed course to Yuki and we stopped at Rohtah for a short while. Mostly for Captain to find some fresh faces for the crew, so I had to be at his beck and call when necessary. Jongho and I got to bond quite a bit during that trip though so it was… really nice. One of the most pleasant memories I have of being with the crew. At least until Yunho came along! He made the atmosphere so much livelier once he came along, and we started to do some recreational stuff on the ship instead of saving it for when we were planetside. Things we still do now like cards and games, and Jongho got a guitar at one of our stops so we started having music nights and — and everyone would be there, and Hongjoong was there and he would actually be there with us. Not in the corner of the room doing that thing he does where he just stares at us like we’re part of a different world that he can’t join in on.”
San’s rambling is endearing, complete with a sort of child-like excitement that makes his face light up, and you wish desperately that you could share in those happy memories of his with the same joy that he seems to be experiencing at present. Melancholy cuts through it with a jagged edge too, however, making the smile break before it reaches his eyes. The nights where the whole crew partakes in games and fun are so few and far between that they seem distant, and you’ve only seen Jongho pull the guitar from his room on a handful of occasions when you’ve occupied space in the ship for a decently long amount of time now.
“It was inevitable,” San continues just as you’re parting your lips to offer him some kind of comfort, “in many ways. The crew grew too large to keep that atmosphere. We didn’t even have rooms to ourselves at the height of the Scourge’s reign of terror over the starry skies; I shared with Jongho back then, and Yunho before that for a while. The ship was crowded as hell to the point where you couldn’t so much as walk outside the bathroom in your own room without seeing another person there, but it felt so lived in.” You’ve lost sight of Hongjoong and Yunho at this point, and as you continue to walk further into the city, the streets are filling out with the hustle and bustle of locals going about their days. “The Horizon was rarely quiet back then, and I can’t imagine how that impacted our Berserkers, even the several we had outside Jongho and Mingi. It was jarring going from that to… what was virtually silence in the halls.”
“Do you miss those days?” you ask. San’s eyes wander from stall to stall, occasionally searching the doors and signs hanging from buildings along the way.
“Yes and no. I so preferred it when the crew was small and close-knit the way it was before. And even though it’s small now…” Gaze becoming distant, San slows to a halt in the midst of the cobbled street. You don’t push him to keep moving and instead just pull yourself next to him without a word. “Someone ruined that peace we had before. There are still nights where I lie awake, incapable of even closing my eyes because I wish so badly that I had snapped his neck when I had the chance, even if it risked my captain’s hatred and punishment. I wish I hadn’t been a weapon then so that I could’ve acted on my own accord, to do what needed to be done and spared everyone the horror that followed. But that’s not how the universe wanted it to play out, I suppose.”
“Why did Hongjoong not kill that man?” you inquire under your breath, barely looking over at San out of the corner of your eye. He seems all too eager to kill me if I so much as breathe in his direction the wrong way. How could he not kill someone who truly betrayed him so deeply?
“That’s a question for him, not me.” San’s lips twitch in a sorry attempt at a smile. “I have wondered the very same myself for a long time though, so you aren’t alone in your wonder. Come on, I saw a stall over on this side that I wanted a closer look at.” You find some reassurance in the knowledge that San is as unaware as you are, for once, but that creeping thought makes you feel worse about yourself so you push it to the side and let San guide you over to one of the street vendors.
“Come to look at my wares, young ones?” An elderly woman greets you with creased eyes and a smile that brings wisened lines out of her face. “I have all sorts of honeymoon jewelry if that’s what you’re looking for!”
You glance over at San in a panic, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips and you can’t fight it nor can you pinpoint where it comes from to begin with. He’s biting back a grin himself, one that’s a tad more reserved than your own, though his gaze doesn’t fall away from the lady’s for a second.
“Please, show me your favorite pieces. We aren’t married but I would like to find something nice for my partner nonetheless.”
“Not married yet, I see, I see. There’s still time yet! Our little city here is quite the romantic getaway if you know the right places to look, and if you’re up for a little adventure.” You look up from the display of jewelry before you only to make direct eye contact with the woman from across the stand, and she passes you a more than a little obvious wink that makes you exhale what can only be described as a pained laugh. Without thinking too deeply about it, your hand drifts towards a set of earrings on the display case.
"Do you like those?" San asks, eyes flitting over to watch your movements closely. You lay your hand flat against the glass as you lean forward a hair and take a closer look at them. Simple, silver, no gems adorning them, and clearly hand-twisted metal that winds itself into the shape of a curved seven. One of the two has a chain attached to it, short but with a cylindrical shape dangling downwards.
"They're pretty," you murmur before withdrawing your hand and smiling at the woman.
"These are a special set, yes," she hums, "the chime here is a charm of protection." She opens the case and lifts one of the cuffs out, showing off the piece in its full glory with the chime tinkling as she moves it. The sound isn't obnoxious, more like a softer version of the windchimes you saw outside some of the buildings on your walk, and the metal is so polished that you can see your distorted reflection in it. "It is meant to ward off foul intentions and spirits if blessed by a loved one. A very charming piece indeed."
"Ah…" comes your quiet noise of acknowledgment, and the woman reaches out to lift your hand with her own, exposing your palm to the sky as she sets the piece there and nods towards you. You understand the implication of her action, and if you were a bit more bold in that area of things, you would ask San to give his blessing with no shame. It shouldn't be difficult for you either considering how the old woman has already clocked the two of you as a couple, but it feels far too intimate to ask San to do something like that in front of her. Hell, you don't even know if he believes in such acts or if you do yourself really. Would it be too much to ask from him or—
San's hand comes across your vision and covers your palm briefly, and when he pulls away the piece of jewelry is gone from your hand. He clasps his hands together in front of him and lifts them to his face, lips brushing against his thumb as he mouths unknown words against it. In a way, he seems like a man praying before an altar. When his eyes snap back open, he unfolds his hands and presses a kiss to the earring.
"There." San's focus turns to you in that moment, and your eyes meet, and there's a second in which your heart clenches so tightly in your chest that it burns. Your chest aches, eyes stinging from the sudden onset of emotion you see in San’s gaze, and you can do nothing but stand completely still. "Does it go this way?"
You get a moment to breathe again when he diverts his attention back to the shopkeeper so that she can show him which side to put the piece on. Yet when he comes back to you, his hand is reaching up to move the hair around your right ear out of the way, and you can't keep from clasping your fingers around his forearm just to secure yourself to the man in some way. His fingers are hot against your skin (or maybe your ears are flaming with embarrassment) but the metal is blessedly cool as he secures it in its proper place.
"Is it comfortable?" he inquires through the same cat-like grin you recall him wearing the first time you laid eyes on each other. The memory hits you out of nowhere, flashing before your eyes in a split second. Here you are all this time later, in a position and a place you never imagined you would find yourself in, and there's so much love in you as he moves your hands together so that you can cling to him better.
"Yes, it's perfect," you reply. Love blooms so beautifully before your eyes and in your chest as he tucks his chin to his chest and hides glowing cheeks and red-tinged ears.
Turning back to the elderly lady, you find her waiting with the other cuff in hand, and you take it from her with a quiet word of gratitude.
"I'd like these two pieces as well, please," San requests, though you can't see what he's pointing to clearly, and your heart won't calm down enough to let your thoughts return to normal coherence. So, you leave it be and busy yourself with tucking the second cuff around your other ear on your own while San collects his items and pays the woman with his credit chip. He tucks everything into his pocket once she hands them over, and she sends the two of you off with an excited wave.
“I hope all goes well for the two of you. May the spirits watch over you.”
“Thank you, may the spirits watch over you.” San bows his head at her before the two of you walk away. He tilts his head towards yours, whispering as close to your ear as he can get without knocking your heads together. “This city is very firm in spirituality and religion. When I looked at a map with all the buildings shown, I found at least six churches in a fairly small radius. But the spirit shops can be found practically on every street corner depending on what road you’re on. On our walk into the city, I heard almost every native say that phrase in farewell to those they were talking with, so it must be something customary regardless of belief.”
You reach up to toy with the chime hanging from your ear.
“Is that why you blessed this then?”
“Maybe I… an added layer of protection never hurts, especially in our line of work. Even if something small, even if the words and prayers of a nonbeliever are not enough to be a suitable blessing, it at least has my heart behind it. I wish for your safety every night and your happiness every morning anyway, so what’s the harm in hoping this will do the same?”
“San.”
He reaches around your side and pinches your waist between his fingers, a laugh on his lips that echoes against the soft tinkling of wind chimes in the air.
“Come, let’s keep wandering around before we’re called back to our captain’s side.”
────────────
Evening comes quickly, and with it something you dread. The slight consolation you have is that you’re less and less apprehensive with each meeting you have with the therapist-psychologist-psychiatrist medley that is Minho, but it doesn’t keep you from fidgeting in the seat you find yourself in now. Seated outside, the sun has yet to dip under the edge of the mountain range so you can still enjoy the outdoor air some without fear of insanity or whatever else night may bring. Said doctor sits near you, mulling over a mug of what seems to be coffee based on the aroma hanging about your small shared table, and he too watches the edge of the mountains.
“What’s been on your mind recently?”
Despite anticipating such a question, you let out a noise akin to a ‘hm’ and let silence pull back over you.
“A lot and nothing at all, at the same time. And you?”
Minho grins but it’s clear that he does not appreciate your attempt at a joke. “I’m enjoying fresh air and nature that is not confined to a rocky and putrid desert. Our last little planetside visit was far from pleasant vacationing scenery, no?”
“Unless one enjoys freezing winds and bland landscapes, but yes, I’ll agree with you on that.”
The doctor clears his throat around a mouthful of coffee, and you know it’s as subtle as he’s going to be about prompting you to shift the subject to other things. Minho is nothing if not a patient man, however, for better or for worse. You have no way out here, and he is not going to prompt you for a response so your only option here is to answer him.
“I have been having a hard time understanding some people on the crew. Their motives and intentions with me — that sort of thing,” you admit while squinting at the table. In your peripheral, you catch Minho’s glance and continue speaking before he can even begin to ask you to elaborate. “It’s hard to find the line between where they’re being genuine and where they’re trying to get something out of me. I did try to solve the problem on my own. I spoke to someone about it, and yet that led to a rabbit hole and now I find myself doubting much of what I thought to be true. That line of thought only makes me wonder further though. I didn’t doubt so much before. Now I can’t determine whether I was blissfully in the dark or if I’m being led to believe things that are untrue.”
You jerk your chin to the left and stare your companion down, hoping that he’ll understand you’re done venting for the time being. He raises his brows at you over the edge of his mug without ceasing his movements, and after what seems to be a purposefully drawn-out sip, he leans back in his chair and rests the mug on his thigh.
“Interpersonal relationships are difficult by nature. When there are two people close to you saying things that are at odds with each other, it becomes harder. How does one decide who is telling the truth? Are they perhaps both telling some portion of the truth? If you lean more towards one side then does that make you biased? Does it mean you care for one more than the other? Sometimes we fear how our reactions will affect relationships more than what the truth truly is.”
“I do trust one more than the other,” you add through a slight shake of your head. Minho jolts forward a little with an inhale as his lips part to speak again.
“I anticipate that you will not want to use actual names when discussing this, so how about we use hypothetical names in place of them?”
“I’m certain you already know,” you counter in the same breath.
He matches your tone as it drops to a whisper. “What I know or don’t know is not important. This is for your comfort. If bringing their names into this makes you feel uncomfortable or as though you are blaming them, then using fake names can mitigate those feelings. Call them anything — day, night, tree, rock, stone, fuckass and shithead even — whatever you please.” His words have their intended effect in making you let out a breathy laugh.
“I trust… Rock more than I trust Stone.” That goes without saying really because you have known San (or Rock rather) far longer than you’ve known Nightingale. “But Rock doesn’t always answer my questions and often speaks around my questions in such a way that it makes me have doubts. I don’t need him to tell me everything, of course, and I do trust him more than Stone by a landslide. It’s just that what Stone said threw me off.”
“Why are you so quick to take Stone for his word if you trust Rock more?”
“Because it was so eerily close to reality that I was frightened.”
“Did you ask if Stone knew about your reality? Or ask Rock if he spoke about it with Stone before your conversation?”
“I — I didn’t even think to.” Minho is watching your face very carefully, a wry smile planted on his lips. “I’ll do so though.”
“That might be worth a try,” he answers in the same kind tone as always. “Start there, and if the results are not enough to ease your concerns, then we can revisit the conversation at another time.”
“I like that idea.”
“Do you feel more comfortable speaking with me these days, Y/n?”
“I do,” you say, though Minho hardly looks convinced by your answer. “I really do. It’s far easier to have a second voice to offer an opinion. Even if the topics still do make me uncomfortable.”
“Well, that feeling is natural. Those who find it easy to disclose the deepest and darkest parts of themselves to others are often either unaware of their flaws or hiding some pain. We as humans tend to realize what things might be perceived as bad or ugly to others, and thus there is some extent of shame surrounding talking about those things. Even if the perceptions come from stigma.”
“I wouldn’t say I fear your judgment necessarily.”
“Then, shall we try something a bit different today?” Minho’s words are accompanied by the unwelcome noise of his chair scraping against cobbles, and you twist at the waist to follow him with your gaze as he moves away from the table. “Would you be open to laying down over here on your back?” He gestures down towards a bench not far away, one close to the tree that the whole courtyard is centered around, and without verbal response, you move to do as asked.
There’s no need to bother with asking what he wants you to do this for; that question would result in a snarky ‘you’ll see’ or a quick ‘is that a no then’. So, you seat yourself on the bench and lay flat against the cool stone until all you can see are the branches of the tree and bits of darkening sky over your head.
“Close your eyes. I want you to envision your parents first.” Minho’s voice moves around your head, from ear to ear. You see nothing behind your eyelids though, not even a wisp of an idea of the people who are supposed to be so fundamental and crucial in a person’s memories. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions. There’s no need to answer them verbally to me but try to answer them to yourself to the best of your ability. Did you know your parents? What did they look like? What role did they have in your life? What were they like as parents? As people?”
The sole memory you have of them is nothing more than figments and knowledge that was passed onto you by another.
“Happy birthday, my darling. I can hardly believe you’re seven already!” The first voice to touch our ears is deep enough to be that of a man, and the second comes out more feminine and has a certain warmth to it that catches you off-guard.
“Dear, they’re waiting outside.”
“Just… give me but a moment with our child, Marina. They won’t die if I take a few minutes to celebrate our daughter’s day.”
Your father at the very least seemed to love you. Perhaps your mother did as well, in some odd and convoluted way.
“If you can’t recall them well, then a childhood friend? What of them?”
Wooyoung is the most obvious answer to that question, though only because you are aware that you should remember him from your childhood. That remains just as hazy, however, with nothing more than tiny fragments that you have been trying hard to piece together for some time now. He was your childhood friend. Bread boy. Tsukio. The boy with lavender hair who reached for your hand in unending waters time and time again before he could finally reach you.
“Now yourself? Who were you as a child, Y/n? What games did you play? What did you wish to be when you grew up and what did you become? What led you to join the military, pushed you to forget everything and start over?” Minho’s questions are coming too rapidly now for you to keep up with, and you let a noise of frustration slip from your lips as you try to find the answers to everything in your mind. “It’s okay to get frustrated and annoyed. That’s part of the process. But don’t give up quite yet.” His voice comes to a standstill somewhere behind your head, but it still sounds somewhat far and away. “Your identity changed at a certain point, did it not? When you were fourteen years old and decided to take that serum to forget everything that had happened to you before. Who were you in the military?” A killer. “What was your rank, your position, your duty, your unit — what was your purpose?” To kill. “Who were you and what did you become?”
“The Ghost of Eros,” you say aloud without thinking. Something touches your shoulder without warning and every muscle in your body tenses at the sudden breach of focus. Your eyes snap open in hopes of finding the offending touch, but instead, you make eye contact with Minho, who now crouches beside the bench near your head with a very firm and unnerving stare settled on you.
“Who were you before joining the Scourge’s crew?”
Frustration creeps in a second time because you don’t get it. Minho is trying to make a point with all of this, and you still don’t understand what exactly he’s trying to convey to you.
“The Ghost of Eros.”
“And who are you now?”
You sit up, forcing his hand to fall away from your shoulder, and all you can do for several seconds is stare at your lap while shaking your head.
“I’m… it hasn’t changed? I’m still as I was.” Your eyes seek to find Minho once again for answers. He smiles back at you.
“Exactly. You are still the Ghost of Eros, but you need to let yourself believe that again. Your strength didn’t go away, just as you told me that your skills are still with you. Your willpower, intelligence, the things that brought you out of that place you were in — those are skills just the same, and they have not gone away. So you need to stop believing that they have.”
“I-I don’t — what are you trying to get at?” His words seem so intentional and pointed that it makes your head spin somewhat. What does he know that you don’t?
“You are equipped to withstand any trial set before you. Yet when we have these discussions, I find a deep-rooted sense of self-doubt in you. Whether that comes from the confusion of not wholly knowing who you are or from the influence of external forces, it is a hard thing to uproot and remove. I cannot give you a shovel and tell you to dig it out, but I can give you the means to break it down so that it will not grow further. I can remind you that you already have the tools needed to do so if you remember where to look.” Minho sits down in the space behind your back, and you sling your legs to the side so that you can sit parallel to him before the tree ahead of you. “There was a time when your name was second only to the Scourge’s in bars and amongst pirate crews. Is that legacy meant to play second fiddle to his? Is that what you desire? Some parts of you must not want that because you resist authority so heavily. You have forgotten that name and in turn, let him forget it as well. I did not see you cave when faced with the ghosts of your past. You did not cave to a king you perceived to be a tyrant. You have pulled yourself away from so many things, wearing your name as a mantle that represents who you are and what you are capable of. Why do you hesitate to remind your sole competition of the same?”
Minho stares ahead at the tree yet you look to the ground with fingers clenched hard around the edge of the bench. You recall the first time you laid eyes on Hongjoong in the flesh, outside of wanted posters and scant dossiers that did nothing to fully encapsulate the man who is the Scourge of the Black Sea. Even back then, he had looked past you as though you were nothing to him, yet in return, you did not find yourself afraid of him at all. Have you become afraid of him now? Why?
“I wish to be acknowledged as that,” you state resolutely. “Someone strong and fearsome and on his level. He doesn’t treat me like I’m the Ghost of Eros still. I-I want him to.”
Minho hums. “It would be easier to fall in line, would it not?”
Ask yourself what your defiance is really for.
You realize the answer to that question now. Mingi laid down his mantle as the Brute of Kebos for a multitude of reasons, and you can understand now why he views defiance to be a shoddy decision. What he had before was nothing pretty or desirable. The same could be said of your past as well, but you have never desired to set your mantle aside and become something small and diminishable on the Scourge’s crew. A weapon is only as good as the one wielding it, and Hongjoong frankly does not wield you and your abilities as he should.
“It would…”
“With its feet tied and wings clipped, what hope does a caged bird have?” Minho pats your knee before standing up. From where you sit, you can just barely glimpse at the ugly brand sitting on the back of his neck, crude scars and all. “It can still carve its way out with its beak, no? Do not let yourself be buried by those with the intent to put you beneath them. Be strong.” He leaves you with that, alone on the bench in the courtyard before a blooming tree whose roots stretch and pull at the stone meant to cover it.
For the first time, someone is telling you to fight, and fight, you most certainly will.
There’s a good amount of time where you sit in the same place without moving because the conversation has left your head a bit fuzzy. The only reason you don’t linger any longer in the courtyard is because the sun is continuing to dip closer to the horizon and you are not eager to find out what the nightlife is like.
The air clings to your skin a bit when you step through the door, not too different from the humidity outside, but the warmth is welcome in a different way. Music hits your ears at the same time, and you find yourself drifting toward the source of the noise out of sheer curiosity. The sight you find unfolding before you brings pause to your step, though only briefly because your feet are once again compelled to move and push you forwards.
Jongho is the first one you see, sitting on the edge of a couch with a guitar of some sort in his hands — one that must be local to Gorgon due to its foreign appearance. Yeosang sits nearby, close to the couch on some sort of box that he taps the flats of his hands against, and his rhythm matches Jongho’s so perfectly that you’d be hard-pressed to believe that they’ve never done this before. The table that had been set in front of the couch has been dragged to the side to make more space available, and right now Wooyoung occupies that space with Mingi, hands gently folded around Mingi’s forearms like he’s trying to both steady and guide the man at once. You only catch sight of a fifth and final person once you approach the back of a loveseat, and it’s San who sits just barely hidden from sight there. Your arrival brings his attention upwards to you, and you look at each other upside-down. Perhaps it’s the mood in the air, but you allow yourself to indulge a bit here and now, leaning over the back of the sofa to lay a kiss against San’s forehead as he reaches upwards for you. Hands slotting together, he clings to you while you round the loveseat fully and sink down onto the cushion beside him.
“Y/n, Y/n, you have to join in!” Wooyoung laughs as he pulls Mingi around in a circle, eyes not lingering on you for more than a second. Every bit of skin that’s visible on the man is flushed, and the balls of his cheeks are so bright and round that you can’t help but smile just seeing the evident joy on his features. He takes the gesture as an invitation. He’s giggling as he moves Mingi over to the couch where Jongho’s perched before flitting over to you in the blink of an eye. You barely have time to let go of San’s hand before Wooyoung is tugging you up from the loveseat.
“Wait—”
“Indulge me just a little tonight, please?”
Your protest dies in the back of your throat and falls on deaf ears. You wish you had put up more of a fight moments later when Wooyoung starts pulling you into a rather fast-paced and intricate set of footsteps that you can hardly keep up with without trampling his toes every beat or so. Yet — Wooyoung is laughing and happy and throwing his head back so far that the sound of his laughter resonates with the music Jongho and Yeosang are creating. This fragile peace hangs by the thinnest of threads, tied into small knots, and you’re mesmerized by the joy radiating off Wooyoung in waves. It’s not just you either: Yeosang’s eyes follow his lover with every slight shift in muscle, so rapt in his attention yet still not missing a beat as he continues to drum his hands against the box beneath him. Wooyoung spins you out in San’s direction, hand squeezing hard around yours so that you don’t tumble, and in that split second, you make eye contact with your own lover.
It startles you to see the expression on his face. He looks to be in utter awe of what’s unfolding before him, even though you’re certain it’s a mess on your end, yet there’s also a faraway gleam to his gaze that makes you realize he’s not wholly here in this moment with the rest of you. You want to ask what’s on his mind, to know what he’s seeing in his head right now, or what memories are replaying themselves to him if that’s what it is. It’s hardly the time or place for such things, however.
Wooyoung twirls you back into his arms, hands sliding down to secure at your waist. The metal hanging from his neck is a stark contrast to the warmth of his skin and breath as he buries his face into the crook of your shoulder. You aren’t prepared to brace his weight and stumble back over your feet with Wooyoung still clinging tightly to you until you hit the edge of the loveseat. San’s hand juts out to catch you when the two of you tumble to the cushions. Wooyoung is laughing the whole time, hot on your neck, and he sits up on one knee as though nothing happened.
“Change the song!” he requests, returning to his post at the center of the rug. San’s hand drifts towards yours but he only takes hold of your fingers rather than your whole hand as he usually does. You jolt upon looking over at him, solely because there’s another body behind the loveseat and a face pressed between yours and San’s that you were not expecting to see. It’s Yunho who fills the space between your face and your lover’s — mostly recognizable through his side profile and also his blond hair that’s beginning to grow in dark at the roots. He’s clearly fresh out of the shower if his damp hair is any indication of such along with the faint scent of something minty radiating off of him.
“What are we watching?” he asks, bringing his elbows up to rest on the back of the couch.
“Wooyoung is putting on a show for us,” San hums in response, and his fingers curl around your index finger. “You just barely missed Y/n’s ever-so-graceful dance moves too!”
“Oh, stop,” comes your whine as embarrassment washes over you with San’s confirmation that it was indeed a very messy ordeal. Yunho laughs, head pulling up to watch Wooyoung’s new performance. The music shifts, first with Jongho then with Yeosang changing his rhythm to follow along with the Berserker on the box drum. Wooyoung’s eyes flutter shut, and the music takes hold of him like a spell has been cast on his body. There’s a certain delicate nature to his movements now that is far different than how he danced with Mingi and in turn you. The collar around his neck drags up and down against his skin with each twist of his body, yet his happiness persists even with what must be an agonizing discomfort. If not for his upbringing and what you know of his youth, you would imagine he made a living out of this at some point in his life. He has both the grace and the appearance of a dancer, between his lithe figure and his pretty features, and it wouldn’t be impossible to believe that there are many people who would pay a great deal to see him perform. Here you sit, surrounded by crewmates and friends, watching the scene unfold without a credit spent. Luck comes to mind because it does feel something like a blessing to experience this in such a joyful atmosphere. Wooyoung’s voice rises into the mix alongside Jongho’s, though a tad more breathy than the latter’s due to the fluid movements he’s trying to maintain while singing.
“Pardon, but the master asked that I bring freshly brewed tea for our guests. Mushroom tea, a local specialty. Please enjoy your stay here with us.” You and San both take the teacups handed to you on a silver platter by the young woman who has approached the loveseat. Yunho is the only one to refuse it yet gratitude still pours from his lips nonetheless, and the lady bows her head. She moves over to Mingi next, careful not to disturb the rest who are bringing the merry festivities to the room.
The tea is close to scalding but just shy of it so you can sip comfortably from the top while watching Wooyoung’s performance continue to unfold. The words of the song are solemn in comparison to how upbeat the music itself sounds, even down to the smile pulling at Wooyoung’s lips while he sings along. You hardly need to be a genius to figure out the meaning of it — it’s a tried and true farewell song, one saying goodbye to times past and people no longer present, sung with a dissonant joy that makes the tea taste bitter on your tongue.
Yunho inches out of your peripherals, and you angle your head in his direction only to catch him walking towards the stairs without a word. At first, you wonder if the song is what compelled him to leave or perhaps he simply wishes to retire for the night and not disturb everyone on his way out. Content with that reasoning, you redirect your focus once again, only to catch sight of someone else at the other end of the room, tucked away a bit and somewhat hidden from sight. Not enough to be wholly hidden, obviously, but enough so that he will not disturb anything happening in the main area. It’s Hongjoong, of course, because any other member of the crew would have approached without care for being perceived. This is not the first time you have been witness to your captain’s insecurities surrounding his crew; however, seeing the man appear so small in his attempts to hide himself fills you with an odd sense of justified satisfaction. Has he earned a place at this table? Suffered the way these people have for his whims and desires? The answer is clear in your mind — no, he has absolutely not.
The song draws to a close, and you down the rest of your tea before ridding Hongjoong of your attention. San leads with a round of applause, one that both you and Mingi quickly echo. Wooyoung’s attention returns to you before anyone else.
“Jongho knows lots of traditional songs that we know,” he exhales through little gasps for air. “Yeosang and I, I mean. Songs we learned growing up on Aera.” He blows off the fumble of words so easily that you don’t even see a shift in emotion on his features.
“That one was rather sad.”
“It’s a funeral song! Or — a dirge, rather, for people who have departed. Either from life or gone off to new places in the universe, so that’s why the lyrics are so dismal. The song itself and the dance are for celebration though. Celebrating the life and time shared with those departed. I’ve done it a few times before just for fun like this!”
“Never for its true purpose?” you inquire out of sheer curiosity. Wooyoung’s smile turns into a close-lipped one that’s soft around the edges.
“Only once for that purpose.” He lets his words hang long enough for you to feel the weight of them, then he flits over to where Yeosang sits and drapes himself over the man like a blanket. Jongho’s fingers don’t rest on the guitar strings, and he continues to strum out another tune that Yeosang joins in once again, but Wooyoung rests his feet for now. Not his voice, it seems, as he continues singing quietly, words pushed into Yeosang’s shoulder rather than to the entire room.
“The tea made me a bit sleepy, so I think I’m gonna head upstairs,” you say to the man beside you. San nods a few times but refuses to let go of your hand even when you stand up from the loveseat. He comes along with you, in fact, setting his cup down beside yours on the nearby table. The energy of the night is beginning to wear off, and it’s draining fast from your body. San is humming beside you to the song Jongho plays, and you feel him tapping out the melody against your knuckles. You have felt this kind of peace more times than you can count while part of this crew, but it has seemed quite far away for a while now. You squeeze tighter at San’s hand like you’re waiting for the inevitable, like glass is about to shatter and the illusion of peace will become nothing but shards before you. Yet, none of that happens, and you revel in this moment you’re living in while climbing the stairs to the second floor of the hostel.
San pushes the door to your joint room open with one hand, tugging you in alongside him as a giggle tears from your lips. There’s a moment where you fall into his side, hand bracing on his hip when you collide into each other’s space. Then San is drifting away from you and letting your hands return to your sides. He steps over to the dresser with a song still on his lips.
“Hi,” you say to break the lull in conversation.
“Hello, star,” he replies with a fond little smile. You return the gesture as you slowly shut the door.
“Finally alone, hm?”
San’s focus pulls harder toward you. He gives up on his current task of pulling a change of clothes out to stare directly at you.
“Careful, my darling, a man could take such words to mean all sorts of things.”
You dip your chin to your chest and laugh, shaking your head as you push into the room. It’s not that you’re looking for anything in particular — sexual, you mean — and the two of you haven’t fucked around in several days, mostly out of joint avoidance and going straight to bed once you’ve gone about your days separately. You aren’t keen on anything now, either. There’s a knot in your gut that won’t unfurl, coupled with the recollection of what occurred last time. You thought of another man. San called you treasure. There was some degree of an argument which resulted in you asking for sex to feel better, and San, who is one to voice when something is not okay in the bedroom, complied eagerly. Maybe you both made mistakes that night, and all you could do to patch the wounds you left on each other was fuck it out of your systems.
San watches you carefully as you make your way to the bed and sit on the edge of it. He mirrors your movements by sitting on the dresser, hands clasped around the edge of it. The impending conversation must weigh on him too given how his usual teasing jokes don’t persist. Though your peace was far from an illusion and you do not wish to tarnish it, you do know that letting your thoughts fester any longer will cause monumental problems in the long run. As it is, you have already told yourself this can wait until tomorrow, let’s just enjoy tonight time and time again. If not now, then when because there will always be another excuse you can pull out of your back pocket to explain why it’s not a good time to speak.
“You called me your treasure the other night.”
“I— um, did you… when was this?” San fidgets in his seat, and you see him visibly nervous for the first time in a long time before you. “I’m not trying to play dumb, I just genuinely don’t recall th—”
“Why did you call me that? In that moment, what made you say that?” It isn’t your intention to interrupt him so harshly, but you fear losing your nerve or caving too soon when this conversation needs to happen desperately.
San exhales slowly and blinks at you several times.
“Y/n…?”
“It was when you went down on me while I was crying for fuck’s sake, San! Do you really not remember?”
“I… I do. Well, I remember that night, yes, but — Y/n, I truly don’t remember calling you that.” His mouth hangs slightly agape as he looks at the floor, searching for nothing in particular. “I went down on you because I wanted to make you feel good because you asked me to make you feel good. I wanted it too, I would have said something if I didn’t, and I would never push for something I didn’t think you wanted either. I wanted you to feel good and cherished because you weren’t feeling that way in that moment, I wanted to s-show you physically how much I want you. It wasn’t for any other reason, I promise. I don’t know how I can prove that to you but please say the word and I will do whatever to do so.”
Your jaw snaps shut, and you tighten your hold on yourself by pulling your arms tighter around your body.
“I wouldn’t… would never call you that, Y/n. That’s something that — Hongjoong calls Seonghwa that. I wouldn’t dare call you that too.” He frowns. “I know things are still shaky between us and that you don’t trust much of what I say in relation to him, but please believe that this is me being wholly honest with you. I would not call you such a thing because I do not want you to believe that I view you the way Hongjoong views Seonghwa.” He inhales and looks towards the door as though someone will be there to tell him off for what he wishes to say next. “That would be cruel.”
You go so still that even your breathing halts for a few seconds. San presses his lips into a thin line and swallows around nothing. He appears more determined when he speaks again.
“Implying that I view you as a mere treasure to be had and used would be cruel. In my eyes, you could hang the very stars in the sky if you so wished, you are the stars themselves, and in my next life, I hope to be a galaxy so that I can hold you in my heart for as long as I live. I love you. I truly do. I would not wish for us to ever be like them or have a relationship like theirs and I do not want you to believe that my love is conditional on your being useful to me because it's not.”
It speaks volumes to both his character and how he views his captain. And yet, it also shows you how deeply roots the seeds Hongjoong has planted are, and you fear for your sanity for creating such a thing out of thin air like that. Silence hangs. San is smart. You’re more than well aware of that. He’s perceptive and intelligent in many ways, which means that if what he’s saying is what he perceives to be truth then he can put two and two together. You thought he called you his treasure, Hongjoong calls Seonghwa that, you were thinking of Hongjoong while having sex with San.
"Is that true?" Your voice comes out meek. Shame creeps in alongside embarrassment and humiliation because in retrospect (and when you look past your muddled feelings of anger and confusion) San’s explanation does truly make more sense. Why would he call you that? He has not been cruel to you when it comes to Hongjoong. Even if he were toying with you, he has not been heartless.
"I swear on my life, Y/n. If that's not enough then I will gladly set myself before Minho or Yunho or Mingi and have any of them interrogate me in front of you. They’ll know whether I’m lying or not without fault." San steps away from the dresser, yet your gaze is still firmly set on the ground when he comes to sit beside you. A laugh escapes from your lips as the mattress dips next to you.
“Is this what Seonghwa feels like? Going fucking insane and it’s all because of that… that man.” You don’t need to look San in the face to know what expression he wears, because he reaches for one of your hands and takes it between both of his. “Before I went to see Hongjoong that night, I had fought with Seonghwa. About a lot of things but it’s all left me with a lot to think about. Much of what he said hurt me deeply, especially hearing him tell me that I was a substitute for someone else in his mind.” The admission that you did the same lies on the tip of your tongue, and it’s already partly out in the open, but there’s not enough bravery in you to tell San that now, or that you thought of Hongjoong more recently either. “He also told me there are many ways in which Hongjoong has been orchestrating my destruction from the very start. Going from that fight to an argument with Hongjoong too was very damaging to my confidence and my psyche say the least.”
“What happened with Hongjoong?” San inquires, still careful in how he broaches the subject. “I was told that you were forced in line, but is that true?”
“He made me kneel. Or rather he ordered Mingi to make me kneel, and he did. I did.” Pressure hits your shoulder, the full weight of San’s head as he pushes his cheek to your arm and leans into you. “Seonghwa is suffering some sort of mental breakdown of an insane degree and has no one to help him out of the grave he and Hongjoong both have dug beneath his feet.”
“I’ve been trying to help,” San interjects quietly, though it’s staggered by wetness in his tone that’s hard to ignore, “to no avail whatsoever.”
The thought of running away from it all crops up in your mind again. To take San and Wooyoung and Yunho and Seonghwa and everyone — taking them all away and running without looking back. Yet, if you were to do that, everything would so quickly fall apart that the ends would not be worth what it took to bring you there. Hongjoong is many terrible, awful things, but in the very least he contains in him the inherent ability to unite people under his command. You couldn’t do such a thing, nor could you in good conscience be harsh when the time came. What’s running rampant through your mind correlates with real life, and you squeeze San’s hand over yours harder.
“Hongjoong purposefully isn’t letting Seonghwa on this mission because he’s worried too. That’s why Yunho is going instead. Seonghwa is hardly happy about it but he needs the break.” San exhales a quivering sigh. “He needs a break from his duties as lieutenant, at least for now, and Hongjoong is trying to let him have that. There are things only he can do of course — like the dealings with the cargo and having that all settled but those are easier in comparison. Seonghwa doesn’t usually let anything slip when things are awry in his head, he keeps his mask up, and he tries his best to put on a front for the crew. Though it’s never been explicitly stated before the whole crew, everyone pretty much knows that he is not an Elitist. We just… know our boundaries and respect that we should not expect to be told. I was told, as the captain’s left hand. I respect secrets, and I respect privacy. Anything told to me in confidence will be taken to my grave unless I am told it is information safe to be shared. I do not hide things out of malicious intent. That being said, I will do my best to be more open and honest with you moving forward. Would you please do the same in return?”
“I am honest with you already,” you cut in almost in an instant. San’s hand flexes around yours. “But I will… I’ll continue to do so.”
His frown is felt against your shoulder.
“If that were true then you would not be revealing truths to me now.”
“I’m sorry.” The tension that rises in your muscles forces his head off your arm. “I’m really sorry.”
“I’m not chastising you, beloved, breathe.” You’re already turning to look at his face when he reaches up with a hand to cup your cheek. “I love you. So deeply and so dearly.”
“I love you too.”
“Let’s do this without having sex. Right now, let’s just talk… without it turning into sex.” You nod against his hand. San is gnawing hard at his lower lip, and it’s already swollen from what must be continued abuse in an attempt to keep tears at bay considering how red the corners of his eyes are. “Do you wanna go out on the balcony?”
Your hands do not separate when he stands, and you stay as close to him as possible when following him to the door like he’s the one thing keeping you tethered to reality at the moment.
Outside, night has fallen, but the small balcony before you sits covered and enclosed by panes of glass. Below you can see the courtyard where you and Minho were earlier, exposed to the night air and the toxins it brings, but up here it’s like another world. The torches continue to bloom with their purple flames along the buildings, fluorescent green lights accent places where the streets are too dark to be lit by flame alone, and silver chimes glint every so often when the wind nudges them in the right direction.
“The town looks pretty at night,” you note as San leads you to a seat near the glass.
“Quite beautiful indeed.” He squeezes your hand one last time before pulling away at last and sitting down in the chair beside yours. When you glance his way, you find him picking at the skin under his nails and watching the skin peel back to reveal something raw and tender beneath. “I am going to tell you some truths that are hard for me to admit, let alone process still. Despite thinking about it and practicing what I want to say in my head time and time again, I may struggle with how to say things. After you went to the bathroom to wash up that night with Seonghwa, he told me that Hongjoong was the sole person on his mind. That hurt me to hear, so I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to pass that pain onto you as well. I overheard a bit of the commotion in the kitchen when the two of you fought, and Seonghwa had told me that he would be honest with you eventually. I wouldn’t need to be a genius to figure out that it wouldn’t go over well. Foolishly, I had thought that I could be someone to help mend the hurt both of you were feeling — your hurt from how things between you and Seonghwa ended, and Seonghwa’s hurt from once again being tossed away by his love. Seonghwa’s eagerness made me believe that it was more okay than it turned out to be, or perhaps he went into it from the start with one thing — or person, rather — on his mind.”
You remain quiet in the face of San’s admissions, even when he takes a moment to breathe and stare out at the city. His hands still in his lap and finally let his fingers have a break from the harm he was doing to them just seconds ago. He grips the armrests of his chair hard and uses his momentum to turn it more toward you. You’re faced with his rapt attention now, as his elbows come to rest on his knees and he clasps his hands between them.
“It’s true that I once had a physical relationship with Hongjoong and Seonghwa. Never just one of them alone; I was always asked to be the third for when they desired it, and I was more than happy to be that for them. We’ve discussed my views on relationships and romantic versus sexual partnerships before, and I’ve had those beliefs for a long time. However, I haven’t fully learned that it’s not so easy for everyone to fall into those roles and that the act of being a third is not always cut and dry. It’s suited for some people like myself, and not for others, which is understandable and completely fine. I thought as well that the two of you having experience with each other sexually would provide comfort and ease. What I did not do was take into consideration the hurt left between you or how sensitive the situation was for everyone involved. I take full responsibility for that night, regardless of who was thinking about what during, and I am so deeply apologetic for being the one to facilitate that. I wanted to speak and apologize to you first, but I do want to offer the same apology to Seonghwa as well.” He waits then with teeth sunk into his lower lip so hard that it disappears from the pressure. It’s your time to speak, to offer an explanation or an acknowledgment of all that he’s poured out to you, but your mind is so full of a clusterfuck of thoughts that all that comes out in the end is —
“I feel like a whore.”
It stuns the both of you in the same way, and San’s expression freezes as he simply stares at you unsure of what to say to that. The shock is almost comical if not for the severity of your conversation at present.
“Would you please tell me why you feel that way?” he asks once the initial shock of your comment passes.
“I was not very present that night. I didn’t feel like I was in my right mind, but know that I did not feel pressure to do anything out of my comfort zone. I was the one who misread my own signals and sought something in physical comfort to ease my thoughts. Seonghwa was clearly not wholly there either, as we know, and the two of us took it out on each other. Since then, I’ve been feeling the way I did that night during sex and it’s driving me mad. I don’t wish to have those thoughts or constantly be reminded of that night but it comes on of its own volition.”
“Okay then full stop, we slow down. Sex isn’t a must.”
“Well, it’s difficult because we depend so heavily on being physical to show affection for one another.”
“That just means we can find new ways to share our affection,” San says through a smile, “and we can still cuddle and hug and kiss even. Being physical and offering comfort is not inherently sexual. I have to learn that too. I’m such a physical person in every way. I adore giving in every way I can physically to show my feelings, but that clouds and muddies things a lot. A healthy relationship with sex doesn’t mean always having sex though. There are other ways we can do things together or other ways to connect and be with each other intimately. But—” he leans back and squares his shoulders, still smiling ever so softly at you “—while I’m thinking clearly, I’m going to say that I know continuing to have sex while you are struggling with your thoughts during it and we’re both in need of healing our relationship towards it is not the best thing to do. I’m not at all willing to ask it of you until you definitively tell me otherwise.”
“I love you so much,” you murmur, and San’s nose scrunches at the sudden confession. He blows a kiss your way as he leans back in his chair once more, settling into it more comfortably now that his thoughts are out in the open.
“You know, I’ve been reading some of the books you keep on your shelves lately. The Siren ones, I mean. Since you told me of your identity, I’ve been curious to learn more about what it means to be one. I didn’t know you were so cool.” Your laughs echo in the enclosed area of the balcony, mixing together.
“Sorry, but I can’t show off or anything. I don’t know how to do much at all.”
San reaches an arm over to your chair and you seek his hand with your own like it's second nature to do so.
“Even the little things about you impress me. You don’t need to do much.” His thumb rubs methodical little lines against the base of your index finger. “The music and the dancing were lovely, weren’t they?”
“It was all very nice. Lively too, and happy.”
“I’ve always loved performances like that,” San says with a smile tugging the corners of his mouth up. “When I was younger, growing up with the Taskmaster and Father — my captain at the time, I mean — I got to have one tablet. At the orphanage, I wasn’t allowed any personal belongings, and though I spent most of my time confined to one small cell, it still had a few things here and there to make the space mine. Besides the collar on my neck and chain keeping me to the wall, of course.” The crude attempt at a joke doesn’t make you laugh as much as it makes you terribly sad. The times when San openly discusses the grim details of his youth are few and far between. The more you learn of how he was forced to grow up, the more your heart aches inside your check, and the desire to close yourself around the icy stake in his chest spikes exponentially. “It had all sorts of training videos on it to help me learn to be more effective in my role on the crew. Part of the combat training videos were dances, meant to teach how to move in a way that could conserve the body’s energy. Since my abilities are so dependent on stamina, that sort of training was beyond crucial. But instead of using them for that purpose, I used to hide under the covers on my bed and watch those dances in secret though, just for fun rather than learning. And I got caught once by my father.”
“Did he punish you for it?”
“Rather than punishing me, he instead took me to a performance. Taskmaster Cara disagreed with the choice vehemently but Father didn’t pay her any mind. He simply wanted to bring me to the show. It was a night circus, traveled across the stars with the act, but we ended up seeing the show on Kebos of all places. It was a different city from where Mingi and Yunho grew up, so the coincidences stop there, though that would have been pretty special if it had been. Um… if I remember right, it was winter and snowing at the time, which was a first for me too. In the tent they had set up for the circus, there was this enormous rink of ice. Father got us seats right up by the railings and—” San cuts himself off with a laugh as he pushes his free hand out in front of him like he’s reliving the memory “—two automatons were dancing on the ice with wheels in place of feet to help them move. I remember it was the most fascinating and beautiful thing I had seen in my life. That memory — it was my happiest as a child. So seeing Wooyoung dance… it always reminds me of that experience and that feeling I had then. But seeing the two of you dance together tonight made me especially sentimental. Even though it wasn’t the same… I felt like I was seeing it all over again. Thank you for taking me back to that place.”
You squeeze your fingers around San’s.
“I hope we can share a lot more of those kinds of memories too.”
San’s response comes in a rounded smile, then he settles back in his chair with his eyes shut and a hum in his throat. Though you don’t recognize the tune, you can only imagine it’s that song from the dance he witnessed all those years ago. In the descending night, you think that maybe the two of you will be okay after all.
────────────
The blissful peace that hangs in the air remains undisturbed until you and San are getting ready for bed. It’s then that a knock comes at your door, and with San in the bathroom washing his face, you take it upon yourself to be the one to answer it. You could have thrown at several guesses as to who would be waiting on the other side, and even the idea that it might be someone who works at the hostel would have come to mind before the man who is actually waiting there.
“Mingi…” you exhale in partial shock.
“Would you please come on a walk with me, Ghost?” His gas mask hangs loose around his neck, and he reaches up to point at it when your gaze flits downwards. “Bring yours if you’d like to come along.”
“Why not here?”
“There are too many eyes and ears here. The walls are thin. I would rather not talk about this in front of San. I do not want it to go back to the wr—to other people.” Every bit of his reasoning comes across as very matter-of-fact, but it all makes sense and you can’t argue with it.
“Okay,” you say through a nod, “okay, hold on.”
Mingi remains at the door as you move back to the bathroom, leaning through the doorframe to catch San’s attention while he’s brushing his teeth.
“I’m going out for a little bit with Mingi.”
San hums before leaning over the sink and spitting what’s left in his mouth out. “Be safe and bring your mask. Don’t worry about waking me when you get back if I’m asleep, just come in comfortably. I’ll try to stay up until you return though.”
“You don’t have to do that.” The way he’s smiling at you implies that he won’t listen to your words. “Sleep well, I love you.”
“I love you too. Dearly. Let me know if there are any pretty sights out there at night!”
You retrieve your mask from the top of the dresser on your way back to where Mingi is patiently waiting.
“I apologize for bringing you out so late,” the Berserker says once you shut your bedroom door behind you.
“No, it’s alright. You’ll be awfully busy with the cargo tomorrow as well, so this is fine. Besides, part of me is curious about what’s so special about nighttime here.” Mingi doesn’t laugh when you do, but he does plaster on something semi-adjacent to a smile. The two of you both secure your masks around your faces before even reaching the bottom of the stairs, although you have to fiddle with the straps a lot more than he does to make it sit comfortably over your nose. Mingi presses the door open with one hand, and you brace yourself for something dramatic or violent to happen yet that never comes. Air filters in and out of your gas mask, not even leaving a scent to pass through.
“Please, follow me. I found a spot while I was making cargo trips today that looked quite nice. I think it’ll be a good spot to talk.” He walks slow enough for you to keep up without a struggle, even if you are somewhat distracted by examining every inch of your surroundings as you go. It’s fascinating to a certain extent because, despite all the warnings and concerns about nighttime, you still find an inordinate amount of people milling about the cobbled streets freely. No masks in sight on many, and some have them on their being but only hung about their necks like the masks are nothing but a statement piece and nothing functional to be used. The sight makes your skin itch and burn, a certain level of discomfort washing over you as you urge yourself to keep pace with Mingi. The chime hanging down from your right ear jingles with every step you take, and it sounds so awfully loud against the thick material of the mask.
The Berserker brings you over to the edge of the gorge, somewhere along the very place you initially arrived at, where there is nothing but braided rope stretched taut between lampposts to keep people from tumbling to an unsightly doom. Those same lampposts bear purple flames just as the others you saw in the city, but to see them against the night skin makes their glow seem all the more ominous. Down below lies that foggy ravine, although you can’t bear to look at it for long.
Mingi pauses by the ropes and grips the topmost one with both hands. You join in alongside him, squeezing the material tight as you look over across the gorge. In the night, you can just hardly make out the outline of The Horizon in the distance, yet it looks so terribly foreign and desolate with it’s lights fully shut off.
“May I ask you something about Sirens?”
“Oh! Yes, absolutely, though I may not be ab—”
“Is Jongho a Siren?”
“—what?” You blink at your companion several times before his words sink in. “What?!”
“Is Jongho a Siren?” he repeats like nothing he said was out of the ordinary in the slightest.
“He’s — he’s a Berserker. He’s got the red eyes, and the strength of at least twenty men combined, and he can do things the rest of us can’t.”
“Yes, but he can influence emotions, no?” Mingi lets one hand fall to his side in favor of turning more toward you.
“Well, yes.”
“Can you? As a Siren?”
“Not like that, I can only—” you’re forced to bite your words back when the risk of exposing the others presents itself. Mingi will know if you’re lying, he’ll feel the increase in your heart rate surely like a shark smelling blood in the water. You must do your best to choose your next words so carefully that he won’t even suspect there are others amongst the crew. “Sirens can only sense other Sirens’ emotions. I cannot feel what you are feeling at this moment. The best I can do for anyone who is not a Siren is sympathize or empathize with them from person to person, but I cannot genuinely and truly know what they’re feeling. Nor can I feel those feelings myself. What Jongho does is different. He feels everyone’s emotions as though theirs are his own, like you do I’m sure, but he’s no Siren.”
“He draws emotions out of others like a siphon and takes them onto himself. Sirens are not capable of anything like that?”
Again you bite your tongue. What Mingi knows of Sirens must be very cut and dry — anything that could be drawn out of a book or fed to him through people such as Hongjoong or Yunho. If Seonghwa spoke to him, there’s no way of knowing what extent of the truth the man shared with Mingi. For the best, you would be wise not to mention the existence of Sirens such as Wooyoung and yourself.
“No, they are not.” You look down at where your hands cling to the rope barrier, finding your knuckles white with the effort of gripping it. “The most I can do is try to soothe another Siren by projecting my feelings towards them like some sort of projection, but that does nothing to force any certain emotion onto them. They will still feel the same as they did but simply be made aware of what I am feeling too. And that ability does not work on people who aren’t Sirens.” Except for the fact that I have forced thoughts into Hongjoong’s head somehow.
Mingi redirects his gaze to the gorge.
“Part of me desired a different answer honestly.”
“I… don’t understand?”
“I wished to hear that Jongho’s abilities were that of some strange cross between a Siren and a Berserker that muddled the genetic pool of his abilities. For years, he has been the one to assist me in coming down from episodes. While Captain and Healer have made attempts to do so themselves, they consistently require Jongho’s help. He is always the one called to do so. I know for certain that there are times when I feel myself fighting back urges, when I am strong enough to win back control from the voices without Jongho using his little ability… I still cannot help but doubt how much of it comes from my own efforts and how much is his influence with that trick.” The Berserker’s voice remains void of any clue as to what he’s feeling, but the stare he casts over the gorge seems so forlorn that it makes your chest ache. “I know why he does it, but I also know why he does it without telling those he’s taking from most times. Because he knows they would not approve and that, in his mind, there is something morally grey about it.” It draws a sigh out of Mingi’s lips, and he turns around, leaning against the railing with his elbows propped up on the rope. “Do you not find it selfish?”
“I understand Jongho is trying to help so it’s hard to say that there is something inherently bad in what he’s doing,” you say as quietly as you can manage while still being audible. “I caught him doing it to me one time, and that enraged me beyond belief because it was against my will. I was robbed of the choice to feel my emotions. Is that selfish?”
“Yes.” You expected as much. “Doing something that robs another of a choice is always selfish and self-serving, even if there is good to be had in doing it. I do not wish to think of him as selfish because I’m aware that he has very particular reasons for doing what he does — as an act of self-preservation and to try to even out the moral scales that he believes are tipped against him.”
“What would truly be different if he were a Siren?”
“Ah. Well then, I could at least assume that Captain was the one pulling the strings behind Jongho in an attempt to keep me on my leash. Not that that would be needed for me in particular. My loyalty has never wavered regardless of what Captain has done in the past, but then again, he has never tried to do anything to me directly.” Mingi’s gaze slips down to you, torn from the scene ahead of him that consists of watching natives move above the streets. “Sorry.” The single word is flat and void of any semblance of emotion.
“Why’re you saying that?”
“Because that’s what people do when they desire to console others.”
“Do you feel that I need to be consoled?” His words hadn’t made you feel any type of way — positive or negative — so it’s a wonder why Mingi would think you need to be comforted by an apology right now. The Berserker tilts his chin back, and it forces his gaze to the night sky overhead.
“No,” he starts, “you feel oddly neutral tonight with me.” Though you cannot see a smile thanks to his gas mask, you are the recipient of a rare laugh from the man. You have no clue what caused him to laugh, but it’s nice to hear the sound nonetheless.
“You don’t need to say sorry. I understand why my loyalty needs to be twisted into place in Hongjoong’s eyes.”
“You killed a king before, didn’t you?”
“…Yes.”
“Why?”
The question stumps you not because you cannot think of a reason but rather because many immediate answers fight to be at the forefront of your mind.
“He was a bad person.”
“Yet you view Captain as such too.” Mingi once again redirects focus to you. this time you make direct eye contact with the man, and the deadpan expression across his face combined with his next words makes your gut twist with anxiety. “Were you to try to kill him then I would kill you.”
“He would kill me himself long before I got the chance to even dream up the thought of doing such a thing.” Mingi does not appear wholly convinced. “Oddly enough, I do not want him dead so I suppose we’re all safe.”
Mingi clenches and unclenches his fists, easing his elbows further back on the railing. You can see the ship in the distance still, far across the gorge and still settled on the landing pad. It looks strangely lifeless in this light, with the knowledge that no one is aboard, yet you think that it is a long overdue rest for all her hard work and flights of late.
“Do you view yourself as a good person, Y/n?” Mingi angles his body towards you as he poses the question. Rather than giving you an opening to respond, he continues on speaking, “In the books I read, good and evil exist, and good always tries to end the evil. So do you view yourself as the good trying to kill the evil in this universe?”
“No.” You clear your throat before beginning again with more confidence in your tone. “No, I do not. What’s bad in my eyes very well may be good in others. There were many who were happy with the king, who thought him good, and he did do good at times. He was not all bad, but I perceived him as such for a short time. All it takes is that short time to want to do something bad to someone you think deserves it.”
“I fail to understand it that way,” your companion retorts. “My father told me before every match in the arena that the opponent was nobody of worth or value in the universe. They were neither good nor evil by his standards. Just a life that did not need to be lived, and it was my job to make way for other lives in place of theirs.”
“Then your father was trying to teach you that you were doing something good?”
“To an extent, sure, but I never understood it that way because I never had an understanding of emotion or good versus evil back then. And maybe good and evil don’t exist at all, maybe it’s all perception that’s in the eye of the beholder.” He angles his head further down but looks off over your shoulder with a sort of faraway gleam in his dark red eyes. “Perhaps at the end of the day… all we do are things that are based on a perception that we try to convince ourselves is a universal truth.” He sees something behind you, yet there is nothing but air and a freefall there. A ghost, perhaps, that has come to haunt him for merely breathing the faintest mention of his father.
All of a sudden, he shoves away from the railing and steps off like he’s going to head back the way you came.
“We should head back now before it gets too late.”
“You go on ahead, I want to stay out a bit longer.” In the blink of an eye, Mingi is back at your side, head drawn so close to your ear that his mask bumps against yours.
“It would be best to leave now and save the sightseeing for later.” His hushed tone urges you to glance back at your surroundings, and what reads as concern to you is fortified by the lingering stares sent your way by those on the streets.
“I understand.” Yet still when Mingi tries to leave again, you remain rooted to the spot. Something else crosses your mind suddenly, something San had said to you in regard to his honesty. “Mingi. Have you ever seen San be cruel?”
Silence.
The Berserker turns his body until it’s perpendicular to yours and finds you still lingering at the railing.
“What does it look like?” you continue upon deciphering his silence as affirmation.
“…Like nothing you have ever seen.” He extends a hand towards you. “Come.”
How would you know that, how could you know such things, when doors are shut and I’m in his arms? Who could possibly know?
Your heart soars with his words nonetheless. Despite it all, here Mingi stands still trying to reassure you.
Your gaze lingers on the foggy waters below, with their odd glow and minty green hue. Something rattles you, another thing beckons you.
“There’s something down there,” you utter once you release your grip on the railing and take Mingi’s hand.
“I know,” he says quietly, “I hear it too.”
Mingi delivers you to your door safely and in one piece. He bids you goodnight with a small bow of his head but not a single comment concerning all that the two of you discussed on your excursion outside. Just as you’re turning the door handle to go inside, he pauses in the hallway and thanks you for your time. The conversation plays on repeat in your mind as you change into nightclothes and wash your face. When you join San in bed at long last, he has already fallen asleep with a book folding over his bare chest. It seems he really did try to stay awake waiting for you to return. You turn the light beside the bed off. Your mind is still far too busy to let you shut your eyes right away, so you spend some time facing San and staring at his profile through the darkness.
Mingi had seemed so sure of what he said. You rest a hand on San’s cheek and turn his face towards you just to see his features better. He barely shifts at the touch.
“Even if something small, even if the words and prayers of a nonbeliever are not enough to be a suitable blessing, it at least has my heart behind it. I wish for your safety every night and your happiness every morning anyway, so what’s the harm in hoping this will do the same?”
The trinkets on your ears feel so heavy under the weight of that blessing.
“Missed you,” San mumbles suddenly, clearly less asleep than you initially thought. He adjusts to drape an arm around your body and brings your head up to lay flat against his chest. No more words are exchanged as he goes right back to sleep, but you lay there with your ear atop his heart listening to the steady and rhythmic thumping like it’s a lullaby to put you to bed.
Good people can do bad things just as bad ones can do good. Those are the words you wished you had shared with Mingi earlier. But in his perspective, that is entirely incorrect.
Maybe people are simply that — people. Good and bad are things normal, regular, plain people do, but not definitive of what they are at the end of the day. It’s a rather beautiful outlook on the universe, you must admit.
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a/n: yoohoo big summer (delayed delayed delayed) blowout! moc style! aheem aheem. i apologize every chapter for delayed updates so im certain lots of yall are like yeah yeah caly okay... okay... but! here we are. i wrestled a lot with many parts of this chapter and was super unhappy when i finished (beyond just being relieved it was over) but after my besties read it and gave me feedback i feel so much better about it and my writing so i am very happy with this <3
so! from this chapter on (i will be mentioning this again in the next chapter and the subsequent ones) i ask that you very much pay attention to details... this act is a dicey one and there will be much interchanging between things that are real and things that are not. there are cues to clue you in on when it is real versus when it's not!! of course i will happily help show those clues where i can bc i don't want anyone to be in the dark or clueless but do not that i do not want the writing to suffer bec im attempting to overexplain it in the text! that being said i hope this chapter was well worth the wait and thank you always for being patient and kind with me 🙇♀️
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez angst#ateez series#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#wooyoung x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#jongho x reader#ateez fanfic#mists of celeste#caly.writes
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Hey hey!
Congratulations on your well-earned milestone!
Here is my selection for the celebration:
Joel Miller
Hurt/comfort
❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜
I can't wait to see what you come up with 💜
HIII DARLING!!! 😍💕
Thank you SO SO MUCH for requesting!! I hope you'll like what I came up with cause I had so much fun with this one! (though it took longer cause my classes just started again so sorry for the wait!)
Again, thank you thank you thanks for taking part in my celebration and you're getting a little kiss from me, too! (muah! 💗)
“I’m not a nurse. You should see a real doctor.”
You told him that time and time again, but his response was always the same.
“Don’t trust them not to rat me out,” Joel would just grumble and collapse on your couch heavily. “I trust you.”
Your medical knowledge was minimal, but still a lot better than many people in Boston QZ. That didn’t mean you weren’t always nervous when Joel came to you with a more serious injury.
“What if I mess up?” you would ask, already cleaning his wounds, but he would just stare at you with an indescribable look on his face. “I don’t wanna make anything worse.”
“You won’t, sweetheart.” His voice, as well as eyes, would soften and he’d just watch you quietly in his reverie.
But this time, as he staggered through the door without even knocking first, bleeding on your floor, you really regretted not convincing him beforehand to find someone more capable. He mumbled some reassurances that he was fine, that it wasn’t his blood when you leaped to your feet in panic, but couldn’t hide the exhaustion and pain on his face. His eyes were drooping and it looked like he was on the verge of passing out.
“Were you bit?” you asked firstly as you guided him to your couch. Joel shook his head, leaning on you heavily.
“Wouldn’t have come here if I’d been, darlin’.”
Still you checked him for bites as soon as he laid down with a grunt of pain, but thankfully there were no teeth marks on his skin. He was, however, hurt and bleeding and your heart clenched in fear at the sight.
“Okay,” you mumbled, trying to calm down more yourself than him. “I’m gettin’ the bandages. You don’t move.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The teasing tone and playfulness Joel so often used with you was almost inaudible under the weariness and pain he was in.
“Joel, talk to me,” you said while gathering the essentials, wanting to make sure he stays conscious. “What happened?”
“Nothin’ big,” he murmured in response. You barely heard him with how little his lips moved. “There are… new gangs formin’ in the QZ. Got jumped by one of them when I got back from outside the wall.”
“Why?” you asked, pulling up a stool to the couch, and then uncorked a bottle of alcohol you always kept in your cabinet for situations like this one. “Did you know them?”
“No.” You started to cut his shirt open and he hissed when the material peeled off of his wounds. “I guess they just saw me and decided that killin’ me would be a good way to earn respect. Or maybe it wasn’t that. Who the fuck knows.” He turned his head, looking at you softly for a couple of seconds before speaking again. “They weren’t good fighters, though.”
“Did you kill them?”
Joel nodded. His expression was one of… almost apprehension. Was he worried you’d get scared? You hoped he knew you better than that by now.
“Good.”
He visibly relaxed when you didn’t shrink away or hesitate, and you exhaled through your nose to focus on the task at hand.
You spent the next half an hour on stopping the bleeding and carefully stitching the nastiest looking wound on his side. Thankfully it looked worse than it actually was, and after you cut off the last bit of the thread and dressed it, you started on tending the rest of his injuries.
“Why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood?” you asked some time later, trying to defuse the tension in the air. Joel was very quiet and it made you worry that there was some issue he wasn’t telling you about, but his lips twitched at your question and he offered you a weak smile.
“Can’t really help it, darlin’. It’s just your luck, I guess.”
“My luck?” you snorted incredulously and shook your head. “You’re lucky that you’re still walking after losing so much blood.”
“Told you it’s not mine,” he grumbled in response.
“I’d say most of it is, judging by these cuts and that hole I just had to suture.”
To that, he didn’t have any answer, and you pursed your lips as you moved the wet towel and now delicately cleaned another bloody spot on his neck.
“Goddammit, Joel,” you sighed after he stifled a moan of pain for the fourth time in a row. It wasn’t his fault, of course, and a weaker man would surely holler if he had his skin stitched back together, but his stubbornness really irritated you. Or more accurately – concerned you “I’m serious, find someone more capable next time. No one would dare to rat you out once they learn who they’re dealing with. Have you asked Tess if she could find you someone–”
“I don’t want anyone else,” Joel interrupted you dryly with an air of finality in his tone. “You’re good.”
Something in his demeanor caused you to arch your eyebrow. “Why?”
“Maybe I just like you,” he grumbled, irritation seeping through the tone of his voice, but instead of glaring at you, he averted his eyes. Your heart fluttered uncontrollably, but you contained it before the immense joy caused by Joel’s words could reflect on your face.
“If you really liked me, you wouldn’t visit only when you’re in need of patching up after a job.”
He didn’t answer and instantly you felt terrible about what you said. While it was true, sometimes he also dropped by to give you small gifts he ‘found’ outside the wall – a book, a pretty knickknack or just something he thought you might like… But those visits always lasted barely a minute so you didn’t really count them in your head.
Still, as you looked at Joel’s face, a weird feeling of uncertainty tugged at your heartstrings.
“How was it out there today, by the way?” you asked, trying to appear casual while you gathered all the spent materials and dumped them on the floor. “Did you go to Lincoln again?”
“No, sweetheart. Not this time.”
You made a noise of acknowledgement. A couple of seconds of silence passed before Joel cleared his throat.
“Maybe… You’d like to go with me, sometime.” Your head snapped up to his face, but Joel wasn’t looking your way. His cheeks were tinged pink, though you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or the loss of blood. “You know. Out there. To Bill and Frank’s, for example.”
“My, my, Miller, are you asking me out on a date?” you asked playfully, half-expecting him to make a wry face at you… but Joel kept silent. The only indication that he heard you was the shame that ran across his features, causing your smile to fade instantly. “Wait. You’re serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious,” Joel huffed, looking definitely regretful that he’d said anything in the first place. “I thought it would be… I mean, they wanted to meet ya, anyway, and they have it nice, not like in the QZ here…” He shook his head and got up from the couch, now undoubtedly blushing. “Jesus, just forget it. Thanks for your help but I’ll be goin’ now–”
“No, no, no, please!” You shot up as he staggered past you to the door, but managed to stop him before he could leave. “Joel, no, stay. Please.”
“No, darlin’, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He frowned down at you, his face harsh and eyes steely. He looked like he was entirely made out of stone, but you knew it was just a facade. “Really, just forget I ever said–”
“I’d love to,” you breathed out quickly, meeting his eyes hopefully. “Joel, look at me. I’d really love to go there with you. On a date.”
As if someone flipped a switch, Joel’s attitude instantly changed – his dark irises softened at your answer and the tension seemed to leave his shoulders, which in turn caused you to smile brightly. You touched his chest delicately, feeling your own heart thumping loudly in your ribcage. “Wasn’t it clear enough that I really like you?”
Joel stared at you blankly with slightly unfocused eyes, suddenly making you worried that maybe he’s going to pass out from overexertion. You tugged his arm lightly to drag him back to the couch, but he didn’t budge.
“Joel?”
His gaze traveled from your lips to your eyes, and he slowly shook his head.
“No.”
His voice was soft and vulnerable, so very unlike the fearsome man you knew and admired. His hand found yours and Joel swallowed heavily as he guided your joined fingers to his cheek.
“Darlin’...”
“S’alright,” you whispered with a small smile, understanding the turmoil that was surely happening inside of him. Stroking the side of his palm with your thumb, you climbed onto your tiptoes and brushed your lips against his. “We’ll talk after you rest.”
It was unclear whether Joel was still listening to you, but nonetheless he nodded with an absent-minded look on his face. You led him back to the couch and sat next to him on the edge after he refused to let go of your hand.
“You know… I started t’fall for you a long time ago,” he murmured out of nowhere in a whisper. You furrowed your eyebrows when you noticed the sweat dampening his forehead, and reached for a clean towel to wipe it away. “Since that time you helped me with the wound on my back.”
“That was a long time ago,” you agreed but your mind was partially elsewhere, trying to ascertain what was going on with his condition. “You never said anything.”
“Was afraid you wouldn’t wanna see me again.” His eyes were closed now, and you no longer were sure if he even knew what he was saying. “And…”
“Rest, Joel,” you coaxed him gently, checking for his temperature with your other hand. It seemed fine, so it was probably just his system shutting down from exhaustion. “You were hurt really badly.”
“Maybe I should’ve been more careful on this job.” Joel lifted his eyelids slightly to look at you, and with a small relief you noted that there was no fog or lostness in his eyes. They were full of only honesty and determination. “But I wanted to see you and t’was always… a good excuse.”
Did he really imply that he let himself get hurt just to have an excuse to see you?
You decided you’re gonna kill him in the morning when he feels better.
“Close your eyes, baby,” you murmured instead, leaning in to kiss his parted lips lightly. “I’ll stay with you. And later we’ll go on that date, and you will show me Lincoln and the world outside.”
Joel’s breathing slowed down as soon as your lips touched his, and you felt him trying to return the kiss, but sleep won in the end and his eyes closed.
But even when his consciousness slipped into the dream realm, he didn’t let go of your hand.
#bluebeary-jay's 1k party#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x reader#joel miller#the last of us#joel miller tlou#joel miller x you
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Hey, this is my first time requesting something, but I was wondering if you could do the ROTTMNT boys x a reader who’s like terrified of needles? Like the sight of one is fine but once they hear about a finger prick or a shot they freak out and start to cry? It’s kinda weird but I experienced something like this earlier and I just got the idea… Thank You!
Hope you love it! :) <3
rottmnt x reader
S/O with trypanophobia/deathly afraid of needles
hurt/comfort? gn reader, romantic? but could be read as platonic.
mentions needles, wounds, and stitches
PLEASE just ignore if any info in this is wrong I’m not a doctor man
You had gotten injured on a mission and had a pretty nasty, deep cut on your thigh.
Not to worry, Donnie’s first-aid in on the way. So there you were in his lab as Donnie observed the cut through his goggles.
“Yeah, that’s gonna need stitches…”
Your stomach dropped, your horror evident as you squeezed your boyfriends hand. “Stitches?…with, like, a needle? No way!”
Leo
“What? Are you scared?~” Leo teased (fucking idiot), laughing a little bit.
“No! I am-” Your stomach flipped and your breathing hitched as Donnie pulled out a special needle and thread from his kit, images of it piercing your skin filled your mind. “Oh god…I can’t do it.”
“Relax! You’re in good hands!“ You looked up at Leo horrified at his words, before both turning to look at Donnie. “Hey! I’ll have you know-“
“Shhhhh! Y/N, really, you’ll be fiiine just calm down bro!” Leo patted your back. Obviously, this was not helpful. First of all, being told to calm down NEVER soothes anybody, and second he called you ‘bro.’
“Mm-mm. No! No way! Look, it’s-“ you hissed in pain as you gripped your leg to cover your wound, “…fine.”
“Not really, Y/N…” Donnie sighed, threading the needle.
“Yeah! What if it gets infected and we have to like, amputate your leg?” You knew Leo was trying to help, but he really wasn’t. Why the hell would he say that anyway? (fucking idiot)
“No, please! I can’t!” You squirmed trying to get up, desperate.
Leo lightly grabbed your shoulders, trying to gently lay you down on the table, “Relaaaax. I know you’re scared, but I’ll be right here the whole time, I swear. Besides, I’m sure Donnie is gonna numb it or whatever, right?”
Your breathing was extremely uneasy tears spilling from your eyes. “No! Stop.”
Leo grabbed your hand again, squeezing it. “Come on, Donnie, isn’t there anything else you can do?”
Donatello sighed, rubbing his temple. “ I suppose…we could try to just patch it up with some gauze, but I’m not sure it-“
“Great! Then bust out that gauze.” Leo rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.
He didn’t really show it, but he was extremely worried and did feel a little guilty for not taking you seriously at first. He hated seeing you so distressed because he didn’t really know what to do.
Raph
“Why not?” Raph looked at Donnie and then down at you, he didn’t really understand.
“I just can’t, Raph, please.” You squeezed his hand tightly, your chest was tight and your face went pale at even the thought of having a needle in your arm.
“He has to Y/N, you’re hurt. Tell em’, Donnie.” Raph nudged Donnie and he sighed, a little frustrated.
“Well, Y/N…it could get seriously infected if you
don’t-“ Donnie began to thread the needle.
You began to squirm, trying to get up but Raph gently squeezed your shoulder with his free hand to keep you down, his face wrinkling in concern. “No! I-…I can’t! Stop, please!”
“It’s ok, Y/N. Raph’s right here, no one’s gonna make you.” Raph couldn’t stand to see you so afraid. “Donnie, can’t you just like, put a band-aid on it?”
To which his younger brother raised an eyebrow, a little annoyed, “No, Raphael, I can’t just ‘slap a band-aid on it.’ …but I suppose I could patch it up with some gauze and medical tape.”
“Awesome! See, Y/N, you have nothing to be afraid of.” Raph smiled down at you, trying to be reassuring. He didn’t completely understand, but he did know he wasn’t going to just let you be distraught if there was another solution.
Mikey
“Don’t worry, Donnie’ll take care of you. He’s the best in the business, baby!” Mikey beamed, not realizing what you meant. Donnie smirked at his brothers compliment, nodding a small ‘mhm.’
“No! Really, it’s ok! It’ll, ah! Heal just fine..” You looked down at your leg, the stinging, throbbing pain still surging through it.
“Nuh uh! Come on, Y/N. You’ll be fine!” Michael rubbed your back as Donnie dug through the first-aid kit and pulling out, in your opinion, an un-fairly sized needle and some thread.
You felt undeniably terrified in that moment at the image of being stitched up and having a needle pulled through your skin over and over. The color left your face, your adrenaline rushing. “No! I said no! Mikey, please!”
Mikey frowned, feeling your terror with you. “Uh, Dee…maybe you should just patch them up with some bandage.”
Donnie looked between both of you, before shaking his head, “Alright.”
“Good! No needles. You’re ok, Y/N. I’m right beside you.” Mikey smiled in his usual optimistic way and he put his arm completely around you, but was definitely still saddened. He’d never seen you so frightened before, even when you were attacked to be put in this situation in the first place. He made a mental note of this event for future reference.
Donnie
“Why not?” Donnie furrowed his brows, pushing up his goggles with his free hand, squeezing your hand back in his other one.
“Please. There has to be something else you can do.” You looked at him pleadingly, and he narrowed his eyes, thinking for a second.
“…I don’t know, Y/N. It would be a lot safer to just do stitches. For example, it could get infected, or scar, or-“ He began to thread the needle, tying the end.
“No! Donnie, don’t!” You thrashed around, trying to hastily get up, the pain in your leg worsening at the pressure.
“Y/N, hold still!” Donatello grabbed your arm gently to hold you from standing up. He didn’t comprehend how deep your fear was. “I know it’s scary, just hold on-“
“No! Stop! Get it away from me, I can’t!” You struggled, kicking your feet and tightly gripping his arm. Tears formed in your eyes, your breathing quickening.
Donnie pulled back, dropping the needle back into the kit. He wasn’t expecting that reaction, his eyes softening into concern as he finally realized your genuine terror.
He sighed, a little frustrated but trying to be understanding, “Ok. Alright, how about just some bandage and gauze? Is that ok?”
You nodded, still a little anxious as your hands shook slightly. “Sorry, Donnie…”
“Don’t apologize.” He gently and carefully wrapped the bandage around your leg. He definitely didn’t show it properly, but he did feel bad. He didn’t mean to scare you and if he had known, he wouldn’t have even suggested it. It bothered him to hear how genuinely afraid you were. He would just have to remember for next time, but hopefully there wouldn’t be a next time.
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Still working on and accepting requests!!! :)
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt x reader#rise donnie#rise leo#rise mikey#rise raph#donnie hamato#tmnt#rise donatello#rottmnt#rise leo x reader#rise raph x reader#rise mikey x reader#rise donnie x reader#rise raphael#rise michelangelo#rise leonardo#rise donatello x reader#teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine#teenage mutant ninja turtles
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