#he’s the light n pride of my life actually. i love him w all my heart
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HELLO 🫶 ITS MY LITTLE BROTHERS BDAY IN LIKE TWENTY MINUTES (pls say happy birthday to him. please & thank you)
#he may be an ass sometimes but i love him fr#love u lil bro 🫶🤧😭 WHY R U GROWING SO FAST N TIME SUDDENLY GOING FASTER WTF…..#he was a little baby in my arms when i blinked. wth#he’s the light n pride of my life actually. i love him w all my heart#and would be the first to jump a bullet knife train car wtv comes his way#love u hun 🫶 hope u don’t grow taller than me tho /hj#sibling mentions#( rambles )#i forgot the tags mbmb
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Ok this is very random but how do you think Ghost would deal w an s/o who is still a virgin at a very big girl age 🥴 maybe they’d be seeing each other for a while, and when things heat up and she confesses, how would he deal? Would he be honored and accept being her first or would he reject her altogether bc she is inexperienced?
(Because I’m in my 20s and safe to say on top of everything else in my life except this, I haven’t come across anyone with whom I’d like to be intimate with yet and though I try not to let it get to me, some part of me sometimes feels like a freak or like something is wrong with me)
I hope I did not cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable by sharing this, if I did I apologize and please feel free to delete this ❤️🕊️
Ghost x FVirgin!Reader
Word count: 2,9 k
Tags/warnigs: Mild smut, light angst, fluff, comfort, praise & size kink
Summary: Reader tells Ghost they’re a virgin while things are about to go down.
A/N: Oh anon!! No boundaries crossed here at all! Your request (or at least I took it as such and got inspired to write a brief oneshot about it) was very sweet.
This of course is my HC but Simon would only and only take pride in being your first. He would get a huge ego boost from this and feel absolutely privileged to hear he's worthy of such trust.
I think he would want to imprint himself in your head as the best man and the best sex partner you will ever have – he would do his all to eradicate even the very thought of wanting to try others after him. Again, an ego thing, but also a desperate wish to please his partner and make them feel safe. This man screams service top to me.
I think Simon has a wild side – not mean, just wild, as in he might be into rough sex and certain types of kinky stuff every now and then but only if his partner is willing. He would be very gentle and considerate (passionate as hell though), knowing you're inexperienced, he would make you feel as safe as possible and wait until you were ready and willing to explore things further.
Also, I can't help but be moved by what you told me in this message. I understand where you're coming from with these "is there something wrong with me" thoughts, because gosh, I feel you! And speaking from experience… it's 110 % worth it to wait for the right person to come along! Sex can be awesome, mind-blowing, one of the best things – with the right partner. Not worth it with just whomever, imho. Stay safe and trust yourself! And I hope you like this short drabble I made for Ghost x Virgin!Reader ❤️❤️❤️ much love 😘
Simon Riley was a one of a kind man.
He put every guy on every dating app to shame, and not just with his size. He was manly, in a word, even if you never knew you wanted such an overly masculine man. At least, not until you met him.
Simon was not only sturdy and mature – he was armed with calm rage and dark humor. Just one look in his eyes told you he was not the life of the party. Actually, he was Death himself: one of those four horsemen that heralded the Apocalypse.
Perhaps unintelligibly, the same man was also extremely considerate. A true gentleman if there ever was one. He always placed you and your needs first. But underneath the calm, cynical surface you sensed fierce intensity: fire and smoke, something that screamed Danger, high voltage.
And you could not keep away. Quite the opposite, really. The combination of a wildfire and a tornado roaring upon this solid bedrock of a man was simply alluring.
Things had gone a little too far without you meaning them to. You were not a woman of one night stands, actually, you had never had a stand. But Simon changed that, too. Because now you were thinking about sleeping with him.
After years and years of waiting for someone sensible to come along, you had begun to lose hope, especially when people seemed to fuck left and right while you wanted something real.
A bedrock.
With that wildfire. Perhaps a tornado thrown in as well.
After weeks and weeks of flirting, the man asked you out, and after weeks and weeks of going out, you came to the conclusion that if someone deserved to be your first, it was Simon Riley. If there was any guy you wished would take you against a wall until you begged for mercy, it was him. At least in your fantasies, which were starting to get out of hand.
In real life, things were not that breezy.
Because what would he say if – no, when – you told him you were a virgin at this age? What if he would be bothered, what if things would get awkward between you two?
What if he decided you were simply too much trouble than you were worth?
It seemed like a miracle that the guy was still around, having been left blue-balled date after date. Either he was hellbent on conquering you, or then… Well, you didn't even dare to think about or's and then's and what if's. Especially when your own feelings were getting equally out of hand as those fantasies.
He probably had plenty of experience, and the thought certainly didn't make you feel any better. How would you compare, being not only inexperienced but a whole goddamn virgin? And it would probably hurt on top of everything. This man must be pretty damn big downstairs if 6 '4 feet and large hands were any indication.
Still, all fears flew out the window in record time every time he pulled you into a kiss. Your body molded into his already: the broad shoulders closed in around you, and it only felt thrilling. His warmth, his arms and scent enveloped you like the sweetest prison, and you held onto him as tightly as you could. Not because he wasn't clutching you with the same–if not greater–fervor, but because you wanted to make sure he was real.
And you realized what the allure of Simon Riley was.
He felt safe.
In fact, he was safe. He represented safety in all its aspects.
Who would've thought that death and wildfire could feel so good, so reliable?
You wondered if he thought this was some game; that you kept him waiting. The unwritten rule seemed to be that it was ok not to jump into bed on the first date. If anything, it was only a decent move. But what did the rules say about the second, third or fourth date? Not to talk about tenth?
Things were starting to resemble some prudent high school romance. Well, perhaps not prudent, the way you two practically ground against each other while making out after every date. Without being vocal about it or pressuring you in any way, you could tell he wished for things to go further. Hell, every fiber in this man begged for more. He would soon burn your clothes off simply with that searing gaze alone.
Watching the door close on that heated stare after at least 15 minutes of wanton, wicked kissing followed by clumsy Good night's and shy, apologetic smiles just wouldn't do anymore. The poor man was left breathless and puzzled in the cold night with nothing but a hard-on and the crumbs you gave him to keep him warm.
Things were getting ridiculous, criminally so, and you felt pity for those pants trying to keep him in confinement. You felt pity for your own soaked underwear as you climbed to a lonely bed all hot, bothered, and wet.
Which was why this evening would end with you asking him to come inside.
. . .
Lately, his hands have started to roam; they even cup your ass as he moans in your mouth – and hearing that raspy, low sound leave him forces the final decision. It's the final prophecy that tells you he is the one. You should’ve known it was only a matter of time with him.
The man hides his surprise well as you invite him in.
"Thought you'd never ask," he gives you a soft chuckle before stepping over the threshold to not only your apartment but also your life and privacy.
You barely get out of your shoes before his shadow engulfs you and strong hands lift you in his lap like you weigh nothing at all. You instinctively reach for support by clasping your hands behind his neck.
"You really know how to torture a man, don't you?" The brown in his eyes is nearly swallowed by warm darkness as he carries you to the bedroom.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, and he gives a short laugh of gravel.
"Don't be. This has been fun."
He sets you down next to the bed, and your heart is thumping so bad you fear he can hear it banging against your chest.
"But it's about time I torture you, right?"
Oh God…
Things happen so fast that it’s hard to tell who undresses who, but somehow, you find yourself standing in your bedroom with nothing but knickers and a bra on while he's taking off his pants. The man has definitely waited for this to happen for god knows how long, and it only makes your stomach lurch.
He thinks you know what you're doing, your brain offers when it should know when it’s time to shut the hell up. You can see the generous bulge this man is packing, and while perhaps compelling to other women, to you, it mainly looks intimidating. Threatening, almost.
He doesn't take his boxers off, seeing you're just standing there like some statue, still in your underwear and almost shaking from thoughts running rampant.
His form swallows you as he steps closer; wide hands slide up your arms, then draw you against him – against that demanding pulse that gets trapped between you two. Even through the black cloth, you can tell he's thick and big, just like you feared.
The man is blazing, and seems to have grown another foot in height as he towers over you with all that muscle. His shoulders are almost the size of your head, and you already know the hand that runs down your spine is experienced in crushing windpipes. It makes you breathe in shivers, and of course he notices something is wrong.
"Everything good?" He's eager and breathless, the erection pressing against you like a threat. He’s a man who has fashioned a weapon out of himself, so it shouldn't be a surprise that everything in him speaks violence.
"Yes," you try to assure him – a lousy lie only punctuated by the audible gulp that leaves your throat as you try to swallow your nerves back down.
"You afraid…?"
"Just a little nervous," you tell him, a half confession.
"Mm. That makes two of us."
He draws down into a kiss, the hands of a soldier and a killer nearly drawing you up from the ground as he pulls you close. You don't really buy his claim of being nervous too: you can feel how he throbs between you, heavy and impatient.
Hesitantly, you reach to hug him as well, and you feel so small, so insignificant when wrapped around this… giant. The knowledge that you're about to be trapped under all this crushing weight leaves you both faint and needy.
He’s a good kisser, but as he moves to devour your neck, you start to freeze from the middle.
"Alright… Come here."
He half carries, half lays you down on the bed, then crawls between your legs and changes his tactic a little. Gentle kisses are ghosted down your throat, and soon, he's at your breasts, soft as a whisper. But as he draws the fabric of your bra aside, your nipple is caught inside a hot, wet mouth, and the wildfire surges forth. There’s no way out from under him anytime soon, and you realize the colossal body is already spreading your thighs wide.
The way he already looks so damn good there between your legs: big, the epitome of raw, masculine power… It's almost sinful that a man like him is here with a virgin. It's a whole new hell how he's kissing you gently as fuck while blazing like a bonfire about to engulf and devour you. You want to wrap your legs around his middle, attach yourself to him in any way you can, but your thighs are weak pudding.
You feel both lost and found with him. In him.
He sucks and kisses your breasts like they're the only thing he's here for – and it feels good, heavenly, to be honest. But then he starts to travel down.
Shit… You need to tell him – and soon, or else there will be no time to say anything before the last of the shielding fabric is gone.
"Simon…?"
"Mm-hm?"
He doesn't even stop with the kissing, merely hums on your skin as his mouth reaches your stomach.
"You're my first," you finally force the truth into the night; a soft and desperate fact. It's only the faintest breath, but he halts abruptly like he has been stabbed between the ribs.
Great…
Here comes the awkward.
He rises. Softly, slowly, like a shadow, just a second away from getting to what's between your legs.
"Is that so?"
His voice is hoarse and dark from arousal. The whole man is intoxicating, and your heart is hammering in your chest, both from hunger and dread.
"Yes…?"
A broad hand comes to rest on the dip of your waist; gently, like you're some frightened animal about to dart off from under his touch.
"Love… Are you sure you want to do this?"
Are you? You almost ask, then bite your lip.
He just called you love, something he has never done before. You can see your breasts rising with the breaths you try to calm down with sheer willpower.
He lets out a small sigh, then crawls beside you and takes you in his arms. The bed sags and wails under his weight before your body is pulled into a delicious bear hug.
"Sweetheart."
His voice is so smooth, so different from the intense, rough smoke that has followed you up until this point that you feel vehement tears burn your eyes. First love, and now, sweetheart…
"There's no need to rush things," he says while keeping you close. Ever the gentleman, but you fear that you've ruined everything.
"We haven't exactly been rushing," you mutter somewhere in the plates of his chest. You both feel and hear how another sigh travels up his throat and is breathed into the crown of your head.
"Now… listen to me, ok? I've wanted you ever since we met. Can't deny it. But the last thing I want is to force you to do something you don’t wanna do."
You squeeze your eyes shut from what he says. Ever since you met… You can remember the lingering gazes, the way his eyes lit up with something hopeful and pure, how it drove away the exhaustion that seemed to have made a home in this big, brooding man. You remember how he stole a few stares up and down your body, too; remember the hunger he never even tried to conceal – not until now.
He is the most enthralling being you have ever seen, a mystery and a force of nature, an indomitable man, and to say that you haven't thought about him that way ever since too would be a lie.
"But I want it," you look up at him slowly, feeling much safer now that he's holding you like this.
I want you.
You realize you're pouting when the warm look in his eyes gains a playful glint as he laughs softly.
"You want it?"
"Yes."
That little twinkle turns into a downright gleam as he looks at you like you're the most adorable thing he has ever seen.
“You want it with me?”
“Yes.”
"How much do you want it?" The charred voice is so soft now: it washes over you in generous waves. His hands keep you in safe custody – and you're the most willing prisoner there ever has been.
"Pretty badly?" You breathe into the air between you and see the corner of his mouth tug.
"Well, in that case…" His hand sweeps down your back and comes to reside on the swell of your hip. "I'm glad I'm here to help."
Pale eyelashes drop to your lips just before he kisses you again. You arch in his arms, like a flower leaning towards sunlight; your mouth, your whole being unfurls under his leadership. He rolls partly on top of you, then moves to kiss you all over as you lie on your back: he kisses your chin and neck, your collarbones and the hollow little crevice between them. The hand on your hip brushes down your thigh, then back up, up, until his fingers meet the folds already soaked through the fabric of your underwear.
His touch is soft, but gains more weight as he sweeps slowly up, then brushes a thumb over the exact location of your clit.
"Oh–"
He knows what he's found, even without the evidence of your voiceless shake of a breath. He brushes another stroke over it, and it doesn't matter that you still have your undies on – you can feel his weight, the gentle pressure he applies as he draws a circle to usher another soft moan out of you.
"You like that?"
"Mhm," is the only thing you are able to answer.
"That's it…" he cheers you on with calm assurance. "Gonna make you feel good. And that's a promise."
You catch a hint of ego in that promise, but there's something else, too. A fervent devotion, a bottomless need to please you no matter what. The right man, definitely: not someone who is only after their own satisfaction. You don't exactly need the answer anymore, but you ask the final, burning question nonetheless.
"Simon?"
"Speak your mind, love."
"Are you disappointed…?"
He stops again, a breath away from you.
"Disappointed?" He sounds quite shocked, almost appalled. "...Disa–"
He huffs, then reaches to cup your face. You raise your eyes to his and see that he's…ardent, and very, very serious.
"Love, I'm honored."
You can only blink at the solemn vow, and he slowly shakes his head.
"Silly little thing…"
It's something he muses almost to himself before he drags his fingers over your sternum and down your stomach, reverently, like you're a piece of precious porcelain. But the heat in his eyes is back, and your fingers curl to grasp a fistful of sheet as his hand disappears underneath the cloth, when he finally touches you with nothing in between.
You suppose it's his middle finger that sweeps over your clit this time, then slips between your folds without effort. It coaxes your thighs open to give him better access, and access he has: he curls the finger until it almost dips inside. Your lips part with a quiet sigh as your chin climbs toward the ceiling.
"Look at that… All wet and sweet for me already."
The way you expose your neck is like an invitation: he buries his face in your neck, tries to drown in the scent and feel of you while gliding across the wetness down below. He spreads moisture on the tight bud, and you jerk a little from how sensitive it is – he huffs a smile in your ear. It makes you release the sheet and reach out to grasp him by the neck, to make him stay precisely where he is, close like this, so close…
"Do ya even know how bloody sweet you are?"
The last of your wits make a vanishing act as he breathes more praise on your skin. You're languid in his arms, feeling both weightless and heavy, like you're sinking into the mattress, and then his hand moves lower; one thick finger is plunged slowly inside.
Oh God oh God–
You feel him, all of him, filling and spreading you. And it's not enough… not nearly enough.
"We'll take it nice and slow, alright?" He whispers in your ear, and you tighten around him like on command. "Got all night to make a mess of you. That sound good?"
You can't help it: your lips draw into a smile when thinking about all the things he will do to you, all the sweet things you've always waited to happen.
"Yes."
#ghost x you#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley fluff#simon riley imagine#ghost imagine#ghost fluff#is this too soft?#is there such a thing as too soft#omg I think I'm part of the Ghost babygirl crew now#i accept my fate#also no beta we die like men
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You’re An Angel When You Sleep
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader
Content: angst, drowning, a little “off-screen” violence, hurt/comfort, near death experience
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: literally wrote this in between classes so hopefully it doesn’t feel too rushed! not edited super closely yet, the grammar might be a little off. inspired by the song “Around The Bend” by Pearl Jam, specifically the last verse <3
Edited 2/28/24
Law is sinking, and there’s nothing he can do.
People call it “The Curse of The Sea.” They say that “she” turns her back on you when you eat a devil fruit. It’s simply the price to pay for such immense power.
And he has never had to worry about it before. His devil fruit ability affords him the security of being to prevent trips into the ocean. Not that he ever would fall- Law is far too careful a man- but he has plenty of crewmates and friends/allies that could somehow knock him overboard.
How sickening, that the first time it actually happened was at the hands of an enemy. And how disappointing, that it had only happened because of his own pride. A foolish disregard of taking caution while standing close to the railing on the enemy ship, when one of his opponent’s underlings threw something that didn’t even really hurt, but sent him overboard. In the midst of a battle where everyone was expected to hold their own- Law could expect no help as he plunged into icy waters.
It’s cold enough as it is, and his curse does nothing to help. He tries his hardest to stay conscious- perhaps he can still use his power if he thinks hard enough. People awaken their devil fruits all the time, so there’s no reason why he can’t do it now. But, no matter how badly he wants to simply teleport back to the deck of the ship, he can’t. The feeling of impending doom only serves to weaken his resolve, and soon enough Law is unwillingly giving up and giving in to the sea.
He’s about 10-12 meters down now. The weight of the water makes it feel nearly impossible to hold his breath for longer, so he lets out an exhale ever so slowly.
But no one is coming, and it’s time to accept his fate. “This is it,” he thinks, “just another pirate lost to the sea. That’s how it ends for me.”
He takes a moment to reflect on life up until now. So much pain and suffering, but in the end he just can’t stop remembering what little good there has been. His crew, who, no matter how much they bothered him, were his family. His blood family and Corazon, who he hopes to see again soon if there is any sort of afterlife. Then there’s you- with your uncanny ability to make him smile and laugh, your clever personality and friendly nature, all your strength and intelligence, and seemingly unwavering good morals. Law feels he barely deserves to have known you in this life, let alone fall in love with you as he has. Which is why he never shared his feelings with you or anyone, in all the time you’d been on his crew. Before this moment, he’d at least had the comfort of knowing there would always be the future, and therefore more time to open up to you figure out his feelings.
“How foolish.”
Law is just about to close his eyes- at least then it might be a more peaceful demise- when there’s a splash that breaks the surface of the waves. His eyes shoot wide open as he tries to figure out what it is, as it’s rather difficult to see clearly with his vision blurring and on the verge of losing consciousness.
All he can be sure of is that it’s a person. The light from above the waves surrounds their silhouette giving them an angelic halo, but simultaneously blocking out all their features from his view.
Law wonders, “Are you here to seal my fate? To ensure I don’t find some way out of this?” If he could, he’d ask that they do it quickly. Still, that painfully hopeful little part of his mind can’t help but come out in what are more than likely his last moments alive. “Or, are you here to save me? Are you gonna give me a second third chance at this? I don’t deserve it, but I will accept it. I’ll use it to do more; work harder, fulfill every goal. Confess to y/n.”
And that hopeful streak seems to take over his body as he uses his last iota of strength to reach upwards. Law’s angel continues swimming downward, but he can’t hold his breath long enough to see them reaching out to him, too.
His last thought is of you. He swears he can see your face on this mystery person as they get closer; your pretty eyes and lips, your hair swirling around your form underwater. Could it actually be… No, he doubts you’d even seen him falling overboard. But maybe he’s already dead, and you really are an angel. Law doesn’t get the chance to fully consider either reality though, as he finally blacks out.
-
“Gimme gimme gimme… a man after midnight…”
This is how Law taught you to do CPR on someone whose heart had stopped. Years ago, when you were struggling with keeping count of 100-120 beats per minute, he told you to “think of a song with the same count.” Most everyone’s go-to CPR song is “Stayin’ Alive.” But, you prefer the classic ABBA song. You pause every 30 compressions to administer 2 breaths, and as you remove your lips from his, a thought crosses your mind. “He looks so peaceful like this.” And even while unconscious, he’s handsome… angelic, even. Nevertheless, you’d much rather have an alive and annoyed looking Law than a dead and calm one.
“Is there a soul out there… Someone to hear my-”
Law coughs suddenly, and shoots up into a sitting position, gasping for breath.
“Law!” You throw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking the man back over.
And though he’s still catching his breath and coming to his senses, he lets you, and puts an arm around your back. “Y/n,” another cough, “what happened?”
You release him (much to his disappointment) and explain how the fight had ended soon after the crew lost sight of him; their captain. And, while the others quickly overtook the enemies, you dove overboard where you’d last seen him. It was pure luck, though guided by your intuition, that you found Law beneath the surface.
“Then I swam over here-“
“Which is where?”
You nod in the direction behind him. “Just around the bend from the harbor. The Polar Tang and the enemy’s ship can be seen from there, so I thought it’d be best to hide while you…”
“While I was dying.”
“Don’t say it like that,” you scold him with a frown, “you’re alive.”
“But I could have died.” Law says with very little pride. He sounds a little out of it, which makes sense considering the circumstances. “I could have died, and you saved me.”
“Well, any one of us would’ve, Captain-“
“Thank you, y/n.”
You shake your head bashfully. “It was no problem, really.” That’s a lie, and you both know it. The water in this part of the ocean is freezing, but through some incredible resolve that you hadn’t been aware of before, you pushed through it. For him. “So… We should get back to the fight, yeah?”
You move to stand up from your place on your knees, but Law stops you. With his hand on your shoulder, he pulls you back down to his side. “You said the fight is over?”
“Mhm.”
“Then let’s just… stay here, for a moment.”
He leans toward you hesitantly, though you’re not sure if it’s because he feels weak or he just wants you to hold him again. Either way, you wrap your arms around him and rest your chin on his shoulder. You hold onto each other with gentle force, and you feel him exhale deeply.
“I need to tell you something.” Law mutters.
You pull back enough to see his face. “Right now? Can’t it wait, Law-“
“I can’t want any longer.” And he really can’t. He’d tell you about how he had mistaken you for a living, breathing angel another time. For now, he just needs to fulfill his promise to said angel (to you?), and confess his love for you.
“Ok… What is it?”
Law is very straightforward as he says it. “I’m in love with you.” And he makes it impossibly hard to return to the battle when he asks that you never leave him in this life, like so many others have. Which you promise not to, of course, though it’s not exactly your decision. You tell him that you love him too, and in turn demand that he doesn’t die on you, either. Law nods against you.
The two of you stay there a while longer, in each other’s arms around the bend.
#fanfic#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece#x reader#law x reader#law x you#law angst#angst with a happy ending#angst#h/c#devil fruit#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgardwaterlaw#trafalgar law#law x y/n
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seraphim
roronoa zoro x afab!reader
c/w: bloodlust, consensual bloodplay, zoro bites, you scratch, religious themes, body worship, slight breeding kink, piv sex, creampie, manhandling, praise, post-murder sex (reader and zoro just killed a bunch of marines), public sex
a/n: ? idk what even to say. i like my men bloody and i like when they bloody me. this is a rewrite of a previous fic which you can find here so if ur like "ive read this b4..." its because you kinda have
banner by the lovely @buggyandthebartoclub!
Zoro isn’t a religious man.
No, he finds the very notion of reverence visceral.
Though as he turns back toward you, he’s dumbstruck. You face away from him, pulling the blade of your sword deep from the torso of a fallen naval officer and watching as the light fades from his eyes. Both of you had emerged victorious after a merciless and surprise assault from a group of marines in the middle of an open town square on some island that neither of you can remember the name of, where a large statue stands tall in honor of some long-forgotten hero at its center.
The scene is heavenly, you there - surrounded by the wages of spilled blood that pools beneath your feet, the remnants of singing steel permeating the now hallowed ground upon which you stand. There’s a certain beauty in chaos, and never has Zoro felt it quite as clearly as when he watches you tear into your foes with reckless abandon. The image makes him shiver - not in fear or revulsion, but something far more primal, deep within his gut.
He’s speechless as he observes you wiping the excess carnage from your blade, a sensation akin to delight igniting in his veins and fixated on you like a hawk. It’s beautiful, truly, a stunning vision that he couldn’t even dream up.
“Well, we took care of that little rat problem, hm?” Your words are heavy with pride and exertion, but the sound of your voice only spurs him from a daze that he didn’t even realize he was in.
Then you turn to him, visage tattered and torn and stained with crimson. Zoro’s mouth goes dry, and words fail him, tongue tied tightly in a knot that he can’t seem to unravel. You’re immaculate, and for the first time in his life he’s fighting the urge to exalt, to sing your praise, to deify you.
He mutters something that’s beyond your field of hearing as he continues to stare at you like a starved man would a feast. Zoro’s seen you wield that blade countless times, watched on as you cut down enemy by enemy without effort or ailment, but never have you looked as angelic as you do now. Standing amid a symphony of battle and gore, covered from head to toe in splattered blood that’s both yours and that of the deceased around you, the look of delight and self-satisfaction twinkling in your eyes as you grin at him from across the square, fuck, it’s all too much.
You’re right, of course, the two of you can and did handle these sin and sinew wrapped rats with ease, but the more pressing matter is the effect that you’re currently having on his heart. Zoro takes a step forward, taking in the beauty of your face, bloodied and bruised but not conquered.
Curiously, you leer at him, head tilted in question as you sheath your sword along your back, taking note of the lack of the usual snarky remark from the swordsman. “Zoro?”
His eye flickers to yours, lips parted in what could only be described as awe. He looks at you as if you’re a muse, descended from on high to grace him with your presence, one that’s stunned him into near silence. “Yeah?” Zoro manages to reply quietly, tone raspy and voice a barely audible whisper against the breeze - a timbre you only hear from him when he’s injured or exhausted, a weak and feeble inflection that almost has you questioning if the man was actually hurt.
Zoro’s jaw visibly tightens, his one open eye alight with the same burn that he eyes an opponent with, expression twisting into one that you know all too well. The face he only makes when -
He wants you.
Your war-torn, bloodthirsty appearance has overwhelmed Zoro, the innate desire etched on his expression like a fool in a daze. Lips twisting into a devious smirk, you’re keen on taking advantage of this rare opportunity of power that you’ve been given over him, and you know exactly how to proceed. With a step toward him, you do something he doesn’t expect, something that has his nails digging into his palms.
You lick blood from your lips.
Zoro’s blood blazes, a carnal, raw emotion swells in his throat with urges he cannot fight - will not fight. Ever a man of action, he’s upon you faster than you can react. Large, calloused fingers envelop your waist, pulling you close in an instant and slamming his lips onto yours in a starved, feverish, messy kiss. The metallic tang of blood on his tongue mixed with the taste of you drives him increasingly wilder each second you stay locked together in the embrace, hastening him further into devoted bliss.
You writhe as he leaves your lips to trail down your neck, lapping up the viscous liquid that coats your flesh in his wake. Zoro is fully prepared to kneel at your altar, to partake of and rejoice in each beautiful proverb that befalls from your sweet tongue, to bathe in every hymn you bestow.
Zoro's hands roam over your body, feeling the contours of your curves beneath the fabric of your torn clothing, tracing the delicate lines of your collarbone and shoulders before coming to rest on the small of your back, holding you firm against him. He feels like he could drown in this moment, in the warmth and passion that courses through his entire being.
Zoro grins wildly, a feral expression on his face as he feels the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, the heat of your breath against his neck, and the sound of your voice washing over in melodic harmony. He wants nothing more than to revel in this moment, to lose himself completely in the intensity of the connection that you share.
“You wouldn’t believe how good ya look like this,” He growls into your skin, his chapped lips dancing across your collarbone and up to your shoulder. “I feel like I shouldn’t even be allowed to see ya. Feels…” words wane into a series of open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder and into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling the intoxicating scent of blood, sweat, and battle on your flesh, “...wrong.”
“Doesn’t seem to be stopping you,” You purr, allowing a soft, pleased sigh to slide from your throat when he adds his teeth to the wet assault upon your skin, gently nibbling and grazing at you in a manner that grows hungrier and more sporadic with every passing moment.
“We both know I ain’t much of a rule follower.” Zoro’s husky voice is hot on your ear, his warm breath sending a jolt of longing right through your nervous system. The hand low on your back begins to wriggle its way through tattered tendrils of threads that once made up your shirt, fingers spread wide as it skims up your pliant softness, tracing along your waist and up between your shoulder blades.
Zoro's touch isn’t quite tender, a clear indication of his burgeoning lust you suspect, but there's honesty, sincerity in his newfound charge. He knows that you aren't fragile, the evidence fresh and red around you speaking well enough on its own, so why stay the hand that plys the sword?
Men fall to their hands and knees in prayer to gods they’ve never seen, begging for mercy and crying out for deliverance that will not come.
But you - he can see you, he can hear you.
He can touch you.
Taste you.
You're divine. A paragon of a twisted and bloodied form of justice. It's you that's stupefied him, luring him into a deistic high that has Zoro practically foaming at the mouth with innate desire.
His painfully hard cock strains against his thigh with means to worship you wholly, to partake in his own ideals of perverse, distorted devotion. He breathes in your salty-sweet scent once more and groans in longing, the taste of your crimson essence on his lips makes him feel like an offering to an idol., and every drop that drips down his chin only serves to heighten his senses even more.
He looks up at you through an eye glazed over with depraved adoration, and all he can think of is how good you look, how delicious you are on his tongue, how much he wants to please you, be consumed in your immaculate presence, and to offer himself up as a sacrifice to the darker and more nefarious desire within him.
The urge to claim, to take what he wants from you and find salvation surrounded by your benevolent hold. To act upon the impure aspiration that pulsates in his mind in ways that would make even the most vileindividuals gawk. He yearns to clean the blood from your sacred, championed skin, a lust filled ritual to send you both into sacramental euphoria.
He’s in a frenzy, feeling and touching each curve and crevice across your body while pulling you impossibly closer to him. Before Zoro can even think, he’s sinking his teeth into your shoulder, overcome with enlightened debauchery and biting down until that deathly addictive taste of your blood is fresh on his tongue once more - a testament to the depth of his obsession and the power of your shared experience.
The pain burns hot, but brief - quickly dissipating away into a cry of raw pleasure, a moan so salacious and so absolute that Zoro feels the very last of his will slipping through his fingers. He laps over the decently deep mark, his saliva mixing into the cuts like kindle to flame and earning him another woefully delightful wail of exasperation.
He thinks himself safe for the interim, that he’s pulled some sense back from the brink - until you say the one thing that shatters him to pieces.
“Do that again.”
He doesn’t deny you, and without hesitation he obliges by drowning his teeth back into your shoulder, pressing deeper into the wound and savoring the way your blood flows across his lips and into his mouth, painting his face red in the process. He grinds his hips against yours in a primitive display of dominance, while his fingers dig into your flesh with bruising force as you dig your nails into his back through his sweat and blood damped shirt.
Despite the danger posed by your actions amidst the threat of more marines, there is something undeniably beautiful about this dance of life and death. In this fleeting moment, Zoro and you find a kind of transcendence - a place where boundaries blur and limits vanish, leaving only pure, unadulterated passion in its wake.
His lips return to yours, and soon enough you feel yourself being whisked off your feet. The open air of the square leaves little room for privacy, but you know he doesn't care. Zoro walks with you in his arms, lips locked together in a messy, bloody, passionate kiss, your legs tight around his waist before he eases you down onto the lip of nameless hero's memorial upon which he plans to ravish you.
Zoro releases his hungry attack on your lips and rips the remnants of your shirt in two, leaving you bare to him as if an offering of communion. To feast upon your body, to drink upon your wine.
You gasp, wincing just a little from the shock of the fresh air upon your chest. “Zoro-” you begin, his name emanating from your breathless lungs as you watch the fabric fall to the ground around you.
“Y’can have mine,” He replies, leaning forward to pull one of your nipples into his mouth. “After I’m done with ya.” Zoro’s mouth suckles greedily, teasing your sensitive nub with his tongue before biting down hard enough to make you squeal and arch your back, but not draw blood.
His free hand traces down your side, finding respite upon your inner thigh and squeezing tightly onto it, growling as the fresh wound on your shoulder trickles down your chest and right onto his lips and eliciting an absolutely lewd groan from Zoro as he laps it up.
He gazes up at you with an intensity that borders on madness, his eyes burning with an unbridled lust that has you keening. “Ya taste so fuckin’ good,” he growls between his assault on your chest, “God, I can’t get enough.”
“Then take as much as you want.”
And fuck, he does. In an instant does he pop his lips from you to slide your pants away, somehow careful enough to not rip them to shreds - something you’d have to thank him for later. Without even removing his swords from his hip, let alone his own pants - Zoro simply rushes to undo the clasps and push the waistband down enough to free his length, thick and leaking, to bounce out against your pelvis.
You can feel it even through your underwear, warm heat radiating from what you desire most in this world at this moment. Zoro looks at you, gaze lingering on yours as he slides the fabric shielding your sex to the side and grips your hip with one hand and his cock in the other. He teases it over your slickness tantalizingly while sliding it between your folds and inch by inch are you filled so wonderfully, stretched and stuffed so marvelously full that each tense or twitch of him inside you makes the edges of your vision blur and has you wailing in pleasure.
As soon as your hips are flushed against one another, he gives you but a moment of adjustment before rutting his hips into you quickly, a rhythm so ruthless and wild that leaves you able to do little more aside from gasp out breathlessly and brave his savage ruin. You’re not even sure when your nails crept up his shirt, or when they burrow sharply into his shoulder blades until they’re etching down his back, the crescent shaped lines running his skin raw and bloody, scathing scores fueled by ferocious, crude passion.
He folds you then, one of his hands coming to grip over both of your wrists to pin them above your head as an arm forces your thigh downward. Zoro leans over you, your ankle now bouncing wildly next to his ear while he plows into you at a newer, deeper, more luscious angle.
Skin slaps against skin in company with brazen indulgence, a foul yet righteous lament for the fallen mere feet from you. From this more cramped position, you’re all but forced to keep eye contact with him - and he’s looking nowhere else but at your face, enraptured by every sound and move you make as you squirm in his hold.
Your desperate pants mix, leaving patches of sweat to pool between your chests. Zoro’s increasing gasps and snarls of ecstasy ring loud in your ear, the sounds echoing through you like a quake and causing you to flutter around his cock. He hisses, harsh and shrill in your ear and with a throaty grunt he pulls out of you, letting your legs fall to the stone pavement and releasing his grasp on your wrists to firmly twist you by the shoulders, spinning you around and sprawling his hand on your lower back to shift you forward into an arch.
He’s sinking into you again, fingers tight and stinging at your waist and burying himself fully inside of you once more. There isn’t even a moment given for reprieve, the man continuing to fuck you as if he hadn’t even left your dripping heat and making you cry out in hypnotizing delight.
Zoro smacks your ass, relishing in the ripple effect in your pliable flesh left in the wake of his blow. “Shit,” he exhales, adjusting his machinations of impurity to wrap his arms around your waist and lifting you from the ground, holding you in place mid-air and thrusting into you with less and less fluidity by the second. “Feel so fuckin’ amazin’, always do but god damn do you feel so fuckin’ incredible right now.”
You reach back to lock an arm around his neck seeking any leverage to keep yourself upright amidst his onslaught. You’re moaning something incoherent, words neither of you recognize due to the lust-filled haze that fills your minds, feeling the pull of release pit low in your belly as his balls slap against your clit at a rapid pace.
Delirium bids its toll upon you, tears prickling at your eyes as the climb to your closely approaching high reaches its limit. Drool slides down your chin and onto your neck, and in an instant Zoro catches it with his mouth, once again dissenting on your flesh and gnawing his incisors into your neck - sucking and biting with brutal obsession and marking your angelic skin in devout defiance. The growing familiarity of the warm flow of blood trickling from the bruised indents in your skin makes you crack, flying over the edge with a scream of his name.
He doesn’t slow as you ride out the waves of pleasure coursing through your body, still slamming into you a breakneck speed. You twitch and twist in his arms, the hard beating of his cock keeping a state of hyperstimulation over you, the whimpers and cries of weak will and breathless joy beginning to tip him over the edge.
The only thing in Zoro’s fogged head is his need to flood you with his spend, to pack you to the brim with his cum until it drips out of you and onto the stone below. He doesn’t even care if you’re bred full of his brats after this - if anything it would show just how he reveres you, claiming you as his own personal magnificence.
His jaw tenses, still attached securely on your neck, as he cums. Loud groans and grunts and sighs of relief vibrate against your skin, Zoro’s dick leaking and draining into you as your walls milk him for all that you can manage.
A few final, slow motions and he slides out of you, gently placing you on the ground and instantly rolling his shirt from his shoulders to hand it to you. “As promised,” Zoro says, a deviously weak grin on his face, moving to wipe his brow after you’ve taken the clothing from his outstretched hand. “Want me to patch ya up when we get back?”
“If you don’t mind, yeah.” You reply as you toss the shirt over yourself gently, minding the wounds that line your body as you do so.” Would rather not be asked any questions I don’t want to answer.” Zoro nods, chuckling softly before helping you clean up, using scraps of your ruined shirt as makeshift bandages and rags before he lifts you into his arms for a third time, though this one with the intention of carrying you safely back to the others - a soft apology for his brutality on your flesh, but one he knows he doesn’t need to say.
#😳#one piece x y/n#one piece x reader#op x reader#one piece x reader smut#one piece smut#zoro roronoa x you#roronoa zoro x you#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro smut#x reader
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Hello Brain Damage! I hope you're doing okay. :) I had to actually stop every thing I was doing today cause I was so tired that I couldn't focus or work at all. That being said, (if you're not to busy, and I apologize if I'm overloading you with requests) I would really love to see how the MHA characters would react if the reader was just so tired they couldn't do anything, and I mean I was doing an online document and every few minutes I would stop to look for my paper (sadly there was no physical sheet). I literaly got 6 sentences down in an hour, it felt like I lost the ability to read. thankfully I'm much better after a nap! Have a lovely day, and take a break if you need one!! <3
A/n: you're too sweet. Don't overwork yourself and remember to get yourself some rest!! You're not overloading me at all, feel free to send as many requests as your heart desires! I hope this fits your taste, if not you can always send in another ask/comment and I'll fix whatever is needed! <33
Comforting Their Exhausted s/o
General info:
Genre: comfort/fluff \\ wc: 1,284 (in total) \\ characters: Hawks, Dabi, Bakuhoe
Hawks:
Oh, he will not stand for it. Nothing, and I mean nothing is allowed to torment his Babybird! Running like a madman, Hawks skids into your office, honey eyes squinting at your exhausted form.
"Babybird! This is unacceptable!" Hawks exclaimed, pouncing onto your lap.
"W-what is?!" You exclaim, holding onto Hawks larger form to stop the both of you from falling.
"You're exhausted my baby!"
"Oh.. I'm fine, baby. Really."
"But- your eyes have bags under them!"
"I'm fine, Bird brain. Now may I please get back to work?"
"No! No you may not!" Scooping you up in his arms, Hawks plops you onto your shared bed, laying ontop of you to stop you from squirming away from him.
"Let me go! I'm not afraid to-"
Shutting you up with a kiss, Hawks hums as he trails kisses from the top of your face down to your collarbone.
"You need rest, Darling." Hawks hums, pecking your lips twice before flipping you over, ending up with you laying on his chest.
"But-"
"No no no. Cuddle your hubby and then we can finish it together, mkay?"
Nodding fondly, you rest your head against Hawks chest, listening to his heartbeat with a wide smile on your face.
~~
(The next morning; 10:02 a.m.)
"Babybird~"
"My darling~"
"Light of my life~"
"Darling~"
You awoke to a soft, heavenly voice and a series of strange pressure trailing along your face. Blinking open your eyes, you smile as Hawks kisses your entire face, sweetly calling you by his many pet names.
As he realized you were awake, Hawks grinned down at you, honey eyes shining with adoration.
"There you are goregous." Hawks cooed, kissing your lips sweetly.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down to lay on top of you, wrapping your legs across his winged back. "Hi handsome."
Smile widening, Hawks kissed you once more before nuzzling into you, sighing as you scratch the base of his wings.
"I made us breakfast.. but I'd like to stay like this for a little longer."
Giggling, you move one hand to play with his hair and the other to caress his back. "Okay, but only for a few minutes. I'm hungry."
Dabi:
You didn't even notice Dabi coming into the apartment, or even into your office. Your eyes were simply focussed on your screen, re-reading the same sentence for what seemed like the thousandth time.
You knew that you needed rest and that you weren't really getting any work done, but you needed to get this project done. Your boss was already breathing down your throat for submitting your last project late, and you couldn't afford being fired or having a pay decrease.
Since you and Dabi moved in together, you've both been working yourself to the bone, working almost 24-7 to try and provide for one another. Though it hurt his pride, Dabi just couldn't carry for the both of you due to his low income, and so you both heavily relied on your income, paying the bills plus most of the other expenseses with your semi lousy income.
Due to your growing exhaustion, you've been flailing, and your boss was nowhere near patient enough to deal with it; which simply put more stress on your shoulders.
Sighing, you rub your eyes; holding back tears yet again. You had to stay strong.
You loved Dabi. A lot, actually. You couldn't just give up and leave him to try and work himself dead just to make sure that you were comfortable and happy.
You had to be fine for him. He already sacrifices so much just to try and lessen your load by a little bit. "Just hold it in. He doesn't need to worry about me-"
You were interrupted by a pair of familiar lips being roughly pressed against your own, drowning your words out with ease. Once you got rid of your initial shock and started to kiss back, his lips were gone.
"What did you say?" Dabi growled, turquoise eyes piercing your e/c ones.
"I- I just didn't want to bother or worry you.." you sigh, eyes glued to Dabi's large hands that were currently holding onto your wrists.
"What are you talking about!? Y/n- you can't do that to me. If you're struggling, I need to be able to help you."
"But-"
"No buts. Put your shoes in mine."
Giggling, you brush the hair out of Dabi's face, looking up at him with your pretty doe eyes.
"Don't you mean 'put yourself in my shoes'?" You innocently ask, holding back your giggles as you study his face.
Opening his mouth, Dabi stopped before growling, moving himself to sit in your lap.
"Same thing. Now, what's bothering you?"
"It's nothing real-"
"If I have to ask again I won't be talking to you next time I'm struggling."
"Fine! Bully."
As you vented Dabi moved you into his lap, holding your form against his chest as he pet your hair, comforting you as best as he could. Though he didn't always know what to say when it came to comfort, he knew how to listen, and he knew how to silently show you he cared with gentle caresses and giving you your favorite seat; his lap.
After you were done venting he simply held you, quietly cooing words of comfort and affirmation into your ear, telling you how much he cared about you.
After holding you for a while you fell asleep, causing Dabi's cold and broken heart to soften, maybe even healing a little bit.
Tucking you against his chest, Dabi held you while you slept, caressing your arm, waist, and hip. Every few moments he would leave a gentle, loving kiss to your forehead. After a while of cuddling you, Dabi reluctantly slipped out of your hold, moving towards your computer.
Looking over what needed to be done, Dabi smirked. Nothing is going to stress his Babydoll out.
You woke up to your favorite breakfast in bed, a smiling Dabi, and a finished and turned in project. The rest of the day was filled with only one another.
Bakugou Katsuki:
"Oi. You need to get some sleep, idiot." Bakugo's loud voice rang from the kitchen, causing you to sigh.
"Baby, I need to get this project done, you know that!" You call, shutting your eyes for five seconds before trying to force yourself to read the words on the screen.
"No, sleep!"
"Sorry babe, I can't." You sigh, looking up at your fuming fiance.
"Yes, yes you can. You came over to have a sleep over, not to work." He grumbled, setting your plate of desert in front of you.
Smiling, you give him a kiss on his jaw as a thank you, eyeing your favorite home made treat appreciatively.
"Eat that, then get to sleep or I'm gonna take that laptop of yours away.
"Sweetie, you can't do that."
"Oh yes I can. I can do whatever I want, it's my place, and my girl's health!"
"Aww, are you saying you care about me~?"
"NO! I'm not. The- the light's annoying. That's all."
"Mhmm~"
Smirking at Bakugo, you move to sit down on the bed next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you dig in.
"It's delicious, thank you baby." You whisper, pecking the pro hero's muscular shoulder.
"Yeah yeah, just finish eating."
Smiling fondly, you finish the dessert before wrapping your arms around Bakugo, pecking his lips. "Thank you, love."
"Yeah yeah." He murmured, wrapping his arms around you before bringing you to bed.
"Oh you little brat." You giggle, holding onto the man you loved with your entire being.
"Shhh sleep time. It's past our bedtime."
"Katsu-"
"Past. Bed. Time."
~~~~~
Hawks' masterlist | Dabi's masterlist | Bakugo's masterlist | Navigation
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#mha#bnha#mha fanfiction#mha x reader#bnha x reader#fluff#mha fluff#thehusbandoden#hawks#hawks x reader#hawks x reader comfort#hawks x reader fluff#dabi x reader#dabi#dabi x reader fluff#dabi x reader comfort#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugou#bakugo x reader#bakugo x reader fluff#bakugo x reader comfort#dabi x reader cuddles#hawks x reader cuddles#bakugo x reader cuddles#kachan#kachan x reader fluff#dabi x reader kisses#hawks x reader kisses#bakugo x reader kisses#mha x reader kisses
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Hello it's me Rachel. Listen um sorry for the bother you but can you make a yandere losers club headcanon movie it 2017 ?
It's no bother! Of course I can!
Yandere Losers Club Headcanons
Characters: Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris, Beverly Marsh, Mike Hanlon, Ben Hanscom
[Also, I looked up the Jewish stuff for Stanley, so if I got anything wrong lmk]
Bill Denbrough
He gets really shy around you
Stutters a lot and he never really gets over it, no matter how he tries
You're way out of his league and he's surprised when you ask him out
But oh my god, you really want to date him
"Do you want to go out with me?"
He looks at you shocked, his mouth on the floor. At first, he thinks you're trying to pull a prank on him or making fun of him, but you're dead serious
"Oh- W-w-what?"
"Do you want to go out with.... me?" You gesture to yourself at the end, your confidence quickly fading in fear you were about to be rejected
"Uh-uh-uh, um...y-ye-yeah. I'd l-l-l-love to."
Now it's your turn to blush and you smile, "Great. That's great. So what now?"
"I don't know..."
It's a little awkward at first, but you both eventually get over it
His friends tease him, but Bill always brings up about how they're all single [It usually ends the teasing]
He always dresses up whenever he's going to see you
He just wants to look his best
Eddie Kaspbrak
You meet at his favorite place, the pharmacy
He knew who you were and you vaguely knew who he was
He had a huge crush on you and when he saw you, he nearly shit bricks
He quickly put the stuff he was holding back on the shelf, while accidentally knocking stuff down
"Uh, you're Eddie, right?"
He awkwardly laughs, his face turning a light red, "Uh, yeah. Y/n?"
"Yeah. What are you doing?"
"Nothing!" He's quick and nearly yells it at you, causing you to flinch back. He instantly felt bad about it
You only knew two things about Eddie; He's a germaphobe and his mom is crazy
"You're that germaphobe, right?"
His eyes widen and he quickly shakes his head, "No! I'm not scared of germs. That's crazy," He laughs it off, moving his hand back and forth. He blushes when hearing you laugh and he looks away from you
"You're really cute. Do you want to hang out?"
"Hang out? You and me?"
"Yeah, there's actually a diner close by-"
"Of course. I mean yeah, that'd be cool"
You start hanging out more after that and Eddie is secretly losing his mind
You're hanging out with him
Wow- He feels like he's dreaming
When you ask him to be your boyfriend, he's sure that he's dead and in heaven
Richie Tozier
You both fucking hate each other when you first met
You bully the hell out of each other, trying to get the last word
"Why are you late?"
"Sorry, I was fucking your mom."
"Well, I'm glad you could enjoy someone's mom since you don't have one"
He rolls his eyes, mocking you, because he has no insult to throw back without sounding like he was offended
Things change when he gets older and he realizes that he likes you
it started when he'd see things in his everyday life that reminded him of you
At first he was irritated and he wanted to destroy those things [Flowers, rocks, tree bark, a cloud, the way his food is placed, a game/game character, etc]
But then, he realized these things made him happy. You made him happy, even when he tried to fight it
He began to cherish these things and anything he could preserve and keep, he would
He has a shrine dedicated to those things. Nothing ever directly linked to you, but just things that make his mind go to you
Neither of you will ask the other out, because you two are two prideful- Actually, it'll be an accident when one of you confesses
You two will be fighting and one of you will comment about how the other is pretty/handsome as an insult and the other turns around and is like "You like me?" You'll be blushing and the person who insulted the other will deny it, but whoever was insulted will be like "I like you two."
Stanley Uris
Stan is very mature for a boy his age and that's what attracts you to him
He doesn't really notice you at first, because he doesn't have time for dating and he's more worried about keeping his things in order
You try approaching him multiple times, but you usually get shrugged off
You can go to the temple and wait until after Prayer hall, Shacharit, or the morning blessings, but he'll probably spot you and avoid you. If you're not Jewish, you'll approach his father, the Rabbi, telling him about your interest in the culture
"You can't just be Jewish. You know that right? It's a long progress-"
"I'm okay with that. I'm interested in the culture, language, and history"
He's impressed with your knowledge and interest that he's willing to take you under his wing
Stanley then becomes jealous, because you're becoming closer with his father than he ever was
You get progressively better at speaking from The Torah
"There's this girl who keeps coming to the Temple. I've been avoiding-"
"Wait, there's a girl who's actively seeking you out and you're avoiding her??? Because???"
Stanley rolls his eyes, "It-"
"Is she ugly?"
"No-"
"Are you gay?"
"What? No-"
"Then why are you avoiding her?"
"It's stupid-"
"Spit it out."
"Well, she's not even Jewish, but my dad treats her like she's been going to the Temple her whole life. So, she learns a little Hebrew so what? Anyone can do that."
"Oh, you're jealous and have daddy issues. Got it"
His father acts kind of like your dad. Tries setting you up with a good guy so you'd be set for later in life. Get you incredible connections
When you'll finally get him alone, he busts. He yells at you and he realizes all his anger about his father out on you
Though, when he sees you cry, he quickly stops and he feels so bad
He didn't mean to make you cry. God he felt so bad
He quickly apologizes and this creates a friendship between you both
You can tell him any secret. He'll never tell a soul
You can depend on him for anything. You're the only thing his father likes about him
"Why can't you have Y/n's dedication? She wasn't even born into a Jewish family."
He complains to you about his father, and you're always open to listen to him
Though, he's scared of nearly everything, so you usually are the braver one in the relationship
You have to beg him to go anywhere with you, because he doesn't like being around people
He just sticks with you the entire time
Beverly Marsh
She was very confident when approaching you, but it was fake
She's the type of person to lean on some boxes and then they fall over
She loves brushing and playing with your hair
She thinks it [your hair] is so pretty
She'll hum to you while she brushes it/plays with it
She asked you out. She was very bold about it
She goes after what she wants and she wants you
She'll make sure the moment is perfect
You're alone and the night is beautiful [Though nothing like you]. The wind is blowing just right and the light from one of the post is shinning your face like a halo
If you ever get into a fight with her, she'll avoid you for days/weeks
She doesn't want to, but it's a tactic she knows will get you crawling back
Mike Hanlon
He puts your needs before his own
He's sweet and whenever you have a problem he's always there to listen
He's a smart kid and will always help you with your homework
And by help, I mean he'll do it for you
Hope you like band music, because that's his favorite type of music
He does have a tiny little issue where he lies to make you happy. He's scared of losing you and just wants to keep you close
He doesn't do it on purpose, it kind of just happens
When you find out, you're livid and he understands, but he doesn't apologize. He think he's doing the right thing
You can be mad at him, but you'll always get over it, because you can never be mad at him for long
He doesn't gaslight you on purpose, but he does do it sometimes
"So what, you don't love me anymore?"
"Of course I love you!"
"Well, you're sure not acting like it-"
Ben Hanscom
He's really insecure about himself and his weight, thankfully you make him not feel like he's a pig
In fact, you don't mention it all; It's not something you notice
You always pick up when he's sad and always do whatever it takes to cheer him up
You try and help him cope with it healthy
Though, as he gets older, he starts to work out and you go with him. You don't want him to feel like everyone's staring at him or something
Whenever he's feeling like people are judging or staring you'll always divert attention to yourself, whether it's wearing something crazy or just making yourself look different and wild, you're willing to have people judge you as long as he doesn't feel judged [Does that make sense?]
He never judges you. In fact, he thinks you're way to good for him
Everything you do for him just makes him realize you're to good for him
If you're ever insecure, he's surprised
"What? You're like the prettiest person in the world! " He's absolutely flabbergasted
Absolutely adores you and follows you like a puppy
Practically attached to your hip
Bro's a little dependent on you ngl
#it chapter 1#bill denbrough x reader#eddie kaspbrak x reader#mike hanlon x reader#richie tozier x reader#stanley uris x reader#ben hanscom x reader#beverly marsh x reader#yandere bill denbrough#yandere eddie kaspbrak#yandere stanley uris#yandere richie tozier#yandere beverly marsh#yandere mike hanlon#yandere horror#yandere slasher
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footballers as taylor swift songs
requested by my swiftie in Christ @yudgefudge!! thank you luv <3
leo: you're on your own, kid. ive been associating him w this song way before i knew that everyone else was doing the same lmao. it rlly does encompass his entire journey, from humble beginnings n jus being a little kid playing for fun (from sprinkler splashes/to fireplace ashes), to being the best in the world n all the struggles that come with it (i search the party.../just to learn that my dreams arent rare). the man gave his blood sweat n tears like hed be saved by a the "perfect kiss" which here is a metaphor for the wc obviously. n ohmygosh "everything you lose is a step you take"!!!! BRUH???!?!?! every line, from "i didnt chose this town (ie paris)/i dream of getting out/theres just one who could make me stay", to "the jokes werent funny, i took the money/my friends from home dont know what to say" are all SO leo coded.
ney: anti-hero. i ADORE him n theres a lot of people that like him. but theres also a lot of people who like not liking him. hes one of the best in the world, and as great as that is, he has, unjustifiably so, garnered a significant amount of haters (its me, hi, im the problem, its me/at tea time, everybody agrees). hes rlly endured a ton of it throughout the years, but keeps going (pierced through the heart/but never killed). after facing so much backlash, youd probly worry about the people that still support you and how much longer you can hold on to that (one day i'll watch as youre leaving/and life will lose all its meaning). also, hes a rich person. which makes the bridge pretty relatable for him but like in a funny way.
gavi: nothing new. this one is more based off my inner musings than actual like evidence. i have no idea whats going on this lil dudes head. but i know that IF i were in his position, i'd relate to this song a FUCK TON. its basically a song abt being in the spotlight, n being the shiny young thing that has peoples attention. but what happens when thats not true anymore? (Lord, what will become of me/once ive lost my novelty?) what happens in a few years when an even younger prodigy comes around n impresses everyone? (are we only biding time 'til i lose your attention?/and someone else lights up the room?/people love an ingénue). im not gonna write down the whole birdge but its basically abt the inevitably of meeting your replacement. the song basically asks: "will you still want me/when im nothing new?" he seems like a happy dude who probly doesnt think abt this stuff, but if i were a famous promising young soccer player, this stuff would definitely weigh on my mind.
muller: the story of us. Lord forgive my mullendowski heart. i tried to think of a song that would fit jus him n leave shipping out of it but,,, yeah it wasnt happening. in my mind theyre a package deal. anywho the song's about being around someone youre still in love with after youve broken up (now im standing alone in a crowded room/and we're not speaking and im dying to know/is it killing you like its killing me). ik theyre on good terms n all but in my mindbrain i imagine him them being in the same place for the first time since lewy left him bayern and poor thomas jus "nervously pulling at my clothes/and trying to look busy." and my gosh "but you held your pride like you shouldve held me"??? the AUDACITY. i can go off about this whole song tbh. oh n also even tho speak nows a country album this song is kinda,,, rock/punk-ish kinda??? which is to say, its very loud. much like a certain someone. fun fact i almost put seven for him bc of "before i learned civility/i used to scream ferociously/anytime i wanted" but i figured one line wasnt enough for me to put the whole song.
mbappe: evermore. this is a brooding song. a depression song. so i can definitely see this as a post 2022 world cup final song for him. it actually relates to a sports loss very well. (i used to listen to this song n think a oikawa from haikyuu,,, heh). if theres one thing abt mbappe its that hes dedicated. i can see him "replay(ing) my footsteps on each stepping stone/trying to find the one where i went wrong," yknow, jus thinking abt the final over n over. very "i rewind the tape but all it does is pause/on the very moment all was lost." but at the end of it all, hes young, hes talented, n has more world cups ahead of him. ie: "i had a feeling so peculiar/this pain wouldnt be for/evermore."
klopp: dear reader. this whole song is just advice. its taylor dishing out advice to her fans, most of whom are younger than her. kloppo loves his players, he wants to give them good advice that applies not only on the pitch, but off it as well. (dear reader/bend when you can, snap when you have to/dear reader/you dont have to answer, just cause they asked you) however its no secret that our lovely manager can be pretty hard on himself. so its possible that while he gives advice to those he loves, he feels like hes not worthy of giving it (you wouldnt take my word for it/if you knew who was talking).
again, everything stated is speculation, fueled entirely by my delusional lil mindbrain. as i dont know these ppl.
#im sooooooooo sorry i didnt put as many as i normally do this was TOUGH#like youd think this would be easy for me but a lotta the times i'd find a song that i can only connect a player to a single lyric of#so it was a struggle#also i put my WHOLE ass into this so i WILL do a shameless reblog if i see fit#leo messi#neymar#gavi#thomas muller#robert lewandowski#mullendowski#kylian mbappe#jurgen klopp
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magicalrocketships, it's me, the pillow humping anon again. writing this missive to you from the floor because your writing has BOWLED me over. to misquote wuthering heights, whatever tender-nasty kinks are made of, yours and mine are the same.
in no particular order, things that made me have to look away from my phone and collect myself:
the details of dick positioning… is it pointing down is it pointing left? i love it so much. how do you make the admin of describing sex positions so hot??
disgruntled hamster noise… the humor amidst the hornines… help--
mismatched shoes and no socks. the desperation to see your teammate hump a pillow such that you cannot even dress yourself. oh bud.
max suddenly picturing himself humping daniel's thigh took!!! me! out! i'm delicately picking that flower and adding it to my bouqet of humping thoughts.
i actually can't continue with this list because literally every sentence is hitting me right in the heart! in the horny heart, do you understand!!
tbh the snippet format with stage direction interludes (daniel enters the hotel room) works for me. very much like when i used to watch pride and prejudice and just skip to the scenes that made me feel feral about love. this delicious little 2.5k snippet is already so perfect and warm and steamy that whenever you drop the full fic i might need to call in sick to work.
i love the ways you weave racing into the scenes! it feels so natural and relevant, even like, max watching daniel jerk off and it's "gathering data". oof! your characterization and the way you present information… i'm simply in awe. i'm a fake fan (affectionate) who is only aware of this sport for the fanfiction, so when racing terminology/metaphors/symbolism makes its way into the porn, i feel very legitimized.
me: the wet spot on his boxers 🥵 .
also me, an intellectual: it is his out lap, on which one exits the pit lane 🧐.
(about this fic snippet)
Anon! This was very lovely to hear/receive/read etc etc etc.
And YES how glorious to discover there are OTHER people out there who like the same tender-nasty* kinks (*not that nasty) out there. Mostly this is an entire fic about Max figuring out all of the tender-weird things he likes and finding someone who both LIKES THOSE THINGS TOO and also just lets him figure that shit out??? And is also like... maybe you could do something that you like for no other reason than you like it, rather than it makes a car go faster. A N Y W A Y.
Look, if you can't get excited about the organisation of dicks during sex admin, when CAN you, I've worked my entire life for this
Sound direction is important and hamsters do not make much noise but they DO make their feelings known
Daniel is pretty feral about how horny he gets about Max, not that Max understands that very much because he is ever so slightly lacking in the imagination department, but socks and shoelaces are a step too far when you have a boner to transport through a hotel in an emergency
I feel very honoured to be a flower in your bouquet of humping thoughts, what a floral arrangement that will turn out to be, HONOURED, I tell you
And yeah, we still have quite a bit to go plot-wise (maybe we're about 3/4 of the way through writing??) but I have some existential guilt about existing WIPs (that I WILL FINISH, I SWEAR), so this one isn't seeing the light of day until it is DONE. But it is coming along, complete with too many racing analogies because it's Max's POV and I can't believe he spends too much time thinking about stuff that isn't racing, tbh. Out laps all the way, baby.
#waffling on about writing#i wish i was in control of any of my tags right now#can't remember any of them#it's been too long since I wrote anything
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ketamine is NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART (ty rat priest)
ladyfag is a kute venue w lots of kute boyz and u n ur friend dance on stage cuz why not. the dj puts the lights on u and ur friendz n sweat drip drops from ur head down to ur body and it feels holy. dirty magazine party is nxt and there's a human carpet who is coercing people into his kink to step on him like a carpet n gets mad when u ask him if he's ok so u get on him with ur 5 inch platforms and jump ttwice. cobra snake is snapping pix of everyone and the girl who u met a vivienne westwood last week tells u she likes ur kitty kat ears and u blush. u meet a girl that looks like the reincarnation of SOPHIE and spiel ur lil spiel ab how she changed ur entire life n stance on music/started ur party life. she asks to kiss u after and u let her. <3
ugh sigh eek ugh sigh eek meh blah ugh ooof. mi head is spinning and the come down from molly is never fun. found myself being v suicidal. wrote this cuz i wuz eating chicken wings and sad.
"im sucking the meat out of my teeth from the gaps in between. i used to pull my teeth when they started becoming loose and make sure they fell out the same day, i did it cuz i wanted the tooth fairy to make my wishes come true, to be in a loving family, to be happy. there's a gap from this tooth i pulled when i was 12 or so, it healed unevenly , so every time i eat meat it gets stuck in between ."
i've been talking so much lately i've lost my voice.
u leave dick appointment hungry af from burning all the calories dancing and almost k holing but u mentally pushed urself out of it, didnt think that was possible but ketamine is not for the faint of heart or mentally weak. kiss ur friend goodbye n r craving ur fav hangover food. u walk to the bodega and ignore the weird unwarranted comments from touristy men with boring flannels and cargo pants who just seem so fascinated every time they see someone who looks like a lil lolita goth. IDK why these tourists r hangin in bushwick, plz go to midtown or the upper east side so u can compare credit scores. u walk back to ur apt and BOOM. right underneath ur 400 dollar new new rocks u feel a MF LIFT and on top of that u hear a DEATHLY SQUEAL. yep. the sound of black metal REEEEEE's on loop. [also, EW if u ONLY ever cry while listening to dying fetus , get help. ] u just accidentally stepped on a fucking rat. but they just ran away underneath a car. yr convinced the rats here r superhuman or something like they have GOT to go to mandatory rat church or something underground with their sundays best and all give their tithes n offerings to RAT PRIEST to get this anti kryptonite. alana from broad city talked about RAT BASTARD [which is personally one of my greatest fears, never forget how i fking lost sleep for 2 whole days when i found a tiny mouse in my apartment a month ago, one time seeing it run across my clothing rack in the middle of the night, me responding by SCREAMING and running down my second story floor barefoot and out tha door] but id like to get to know RAT PRIEST. what does he wear, what do his sermons consist of, why do i even think hes a he. ive come so far as a nonbinary person and even helping build an anti-christian club at my christian college,writing a MF poetry book ab my deconstruction of God our Father into God our Mother. i hate the patriarchy and how its framed my sense of power insuch a male perceived worldview. speaking of men.
i am DONEEEE dating musicians and BOYS FROM UPSTATE!!!!!! ive been gaslit by 3 of them this year and its barely june?!?! why pollute something so beautiful n pure like music with a fragile ego!? ive never understood how that could happen…but imNOT stupid. tha softest boys are tha softest manipulators. DUH. i get having energy restless AF to create, express N give but how can U allow the round of applause n medal to corrode tht inner beauty?? or hold urself in so much pride they r stuck in karmic loops. but im no better cuz i never seem to learn either believing they actually think im special too. ive given sm love n attention away from myself lately n these ways of communicating w these kinds of ppl dont feel genuine when u are left empty handed. but NY was never a great place for ppl to date anyway. u find like minded ppl who connect to and they have reservations n avoidances. but falling in luv n getting hurt always happens without a warning.
PLZ PLZ PLZ RAT PRIEST dont let me fall for another musician!! ill bring u 12 bacon egg n cheeze's on cinnamon raisin TOASTED lightly with a side of coffee LITE N SWEET. PLZ RAT PRIEST i know ur there, omnipotent being. that sees the smol ones underneath ur the fluffy clouds u lay on in haven, i kno ur listening. PLZ RAT PRIEST, luv is worth going into a furnace of 1,000 flames for!! i just want pure luv. and if it's in u, u'll b the only boy ill ever be on mi knees 4 EVER again. [kross mi heart hope 2 die.]
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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”
PART 23: PRETTY BOY
emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.
─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen)
─── soc. media + written fiction!
─── word count: a lil over 7k.
author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!
ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.
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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).
You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.
The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.
Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.
In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.
noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T
yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me
feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(
You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.
“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.
why does she sound like goofy
The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.
pack it up yandere simulator
idk whats going on but i think im into it?
villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC
“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”
More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?���
“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”
“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”
“SD-what now?” Dream questions.
“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”
“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”
“Guess, Sherlock.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.
“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”
“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.
“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.
Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.
“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”
If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.
“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.
“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.
Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”
i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me
^already too late for me bro
As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.
Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.
He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”
He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.
“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”
“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”
“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.
“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.
“HEY!”
“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”
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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.
Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.
Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!
“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.
“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.
“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”
Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.
“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”
Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”
“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”
“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”
“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”
“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”
“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”
“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.
“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”
“You were not--”
“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”
“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”
“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.
Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.
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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”
“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.
BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS
yns_fishnets donated 5$
mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!
Your fishnets have a point!
“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.
“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.
“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”
“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”
“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”
“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”
“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”
“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”
“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”
“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.
“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.
“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.
“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”
NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK
MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T
“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”
“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”
“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”
“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”
finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for
i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)
the bis won
“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”
“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”
Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”
“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”
“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.
“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”
“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.
“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”
Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.
You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.
That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.
“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”
“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”
“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.
“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”
“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”
“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”
“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!
“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”
Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”
“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”
“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.
“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”
“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”
A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.
“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”
He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.
y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards
Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.
“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”
“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”
“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.
“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”
“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”
“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.
“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.
“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.
“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.
“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.
In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.
“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”
“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).
yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder
queen stop its embarrassing
bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3
More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.
The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.
it’s happening!!!!
omg omg omg omg
VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC
You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”
pack it up light yagami
this has awoken something in me.
^ same
The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.
Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.
“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.
It’s a knife.
In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.
Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.
Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.
So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.
“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.
You grin, “I was looking for something.”
Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.
“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.
“A knife.”
“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”
“Yes.”
“No!”
You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.
i love women
if evil bad...why seggy?
You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.
You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”
“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.
“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”
“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”
“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.
hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom
hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly
mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn
Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.
You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”
“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”
“Is it because you’re bald?”
“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.
You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.
You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.
“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”
You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.
“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.
“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.
“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.
“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”
“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.
“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.
Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.
“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.
“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.
only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3
corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever
the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite
“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.
You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”
“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.
“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”
“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.
“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.
You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.
“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”
“No fucking clue.”
“Y/n?” She tries again.
“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”
“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.
Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.
You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.
“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”
“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”
You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”
“SHIT!”
Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”
“I’m not Impostor!”
“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”
They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.
“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”
“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”
“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”
“I’d never do that, baby.”
Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.
“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”
Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”
“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”
“Holy shit.”
“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.
“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.
“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.
“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.
“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”
“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”
“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”
Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”
“No, she does.” James chimes.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”
More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.
Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai
more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙
#corpse husband#corpse#corpse husband x reader#corpse x reader#corpse social media au#corpse husband x y/n#corpse husband fic#corpse husband social media au#social media au#myso#make you say oh#quackity#dream smp#corpse x y/n#imagine#imagines#reader#xreader
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fluff/relationships w the liyue crew
characters included: xiao, childe, beidou, and zhongli
ik i forgot ningguang i promise i’ll include her in part 2, i just didn’t have time :(
all x a gn! reader
my liyue babies :,) ft. ningguang in spirit
an: i was listening to my soft playlist (more like listening to cupid’s chokehold on repeat, no i am not basic 🔪) and i thought some fluff headcanons would be cute w these sweet people
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xiao
ok so no surprise that he hates liyue harbor
he hates anything w a lot of people in it so he prefers to stay at wangshu inn tyvm
but by contrast, you love liyue harbor sm (it’s gorgeous i mean c’mON)
you go there often to retrieve your commissions in order to stay closer to xiao (liyue harbor is closer than mondstadt he argues but you’re well aware that they’re both equally far away)
so if anyone asked, xiao would absolutely refuse to go to the harbor like i hate people??? why would you even ask???
but,,,he’s so sOFT for you
if you asked??? he would agree in a heartbeat
but since he’s >:( angsty boy, he makes you think that he won’t go even when he’s already decided that he’s coming w you
he puts up the “if you so require, then i guess i will assist you with your travels in liyue harbor” but in reality he would definitely have said yes even without the almond tofu
while he hates the harbor, he thinks that with you anything is bearable :,) simp
you take him to see xinyan to vibe w her music and you can tell he really enjoys it
even tho he’s like 🕴 the entire time, you see the softer look on his face and the very slight smile on his lips as he listens to the music and watches the crowd
so so so cute very soft for him
i do see him as a subtly touchy person in public like brushing the hair off your face, swiping his thumb across your cheek, or gently pulling your hair back when you have a plate of food in your hands
the type to link your pinkies together - he claims it’s so you don’t get lost but yk better
after the concert is done you take him to that one waypoint near mt. tianheng and the both of you just watch the city lights and the way they reflect beautifully on the water surrounding the harbor
personal headcanon that xiao absolutely loves stargazing since he believes the stars are the one true constant in his life especially since he’s experienced so much loss (basically they’ll never leave him god i hate myself why do i make everything SAD)
mini headcanon off of that - he doesn’t stargaze with people,,, like ever
it’s something he loves to do alone so the fact that he lets you stargaze w him and even allows you to shift your head onto his lap while you watch the sky is a huge deal
he loves it when you softly whisper abt how your day was or something you saw that made you laugh
he just loves hearing your voice, it automatically calms the voices in his head
you absolutely ADORE when he has flowers in his hair especially cecilias (cecillias? ceccillias? idfk) and you make a point whenever you go to mondstadt to pick a fresh batch of cecilias just for xiao while enlisting the help of your favorite bard
these soft moments on the mountain are usually when you’ll sweetly tuck in a flower or two in his hair while laughing
he’ll blush fiercely while looking away but will tuck the cecilias in securely as you’re unable to do so due to the position you’re in on his lap
all in all - this was not meant to come out as a date idea but we’re going w it
this is so cute xiao pls let me put flowers in your hair sweet boy <3
childe
god, loml, my favorite war criminal after eren yeager
there’s never a dull moment w this man - if you wanted peace and quiet, why the hell are you dating him bestie???
is the type of person to yell out “Y/N, i can’t believe i ran into you here!” if he sees you somewhere even tho you explicitly told him you were going to be here in the morning (ik you have a good memory ajax don’t lie to me 😐)
i don’t see him as being obnoxious w pda unlike someone else kaeya but he would definitely participate (think: handholding, cheek kisses, an arm around your shoulders)
loves it when he comes home and sees you in an apron cooking
domesticity just makes his heart melt so you can be sure that your face will be peppered w a lot of kisses afterwards <3
absolutely ADORES it when you trace his scars absentmindedly when you’re lying down or even when you’re having dinner in public
he’s been far from his family for so long that small acts of mindless affection like this really make his heart happy
you have him drunk on your love luv haha see what i did there
he will let you put makeup on him. no i do not take criticism ⛄️
he already has on lowkey thick eyeliner,,, don’t be shy put some more bestie
he will shamelessly go out in public w whatever you made him wear - doesn’t really give a shit even tho he has a reputation to maintain
speaking of reputation,,, yk his mask? yeah that one - the red hair accessory that he has on his head
well on the mask, he attached a little charm the both of you got together on your first date during lantern rite
it’s this adorable fox that we all shamelessly kill for meat and he placed it so it anchored to the side of his mask so when he fights it isn’t a nuisance or anything (does that make sense??? i hope it does)
his subordinates notice and while they’re stoic around childe, behind closed doors they do whisper abt the mysterious person who’s captured his heart
not so mysterious anymore when they literally see him cling onto you during his daily patrol around the harbor 💀
it’s ok tho he’s lucky he’s cute
bestie,,, pls give him a neck massage
i just KNOW he’s tense there idk something abt the way he carries himself just screams “my neck hurts so bad someone pls help me i would ask but my pride literally will not let me”
so give him a neck massage :) don’t worry tho he’ll definitely return the favor and then some
LOVES TICKLE FIGHTS
he’s obsessed w them,,, it’s just the faces you make??? he can’t get enough
he loves seeing the pure joy and the brief fear (he’s kind of a sadist) in your eyes before he attacks you w those damned hands
it reminds him a lot of simpler times w his siblings and he’s happy he brings you joy and makes you forget your worries - at least for a little while
all in all, he’s a good boy and no i will not tolerate childe slander 🔪 kaeya slander tho 😏
beidou
you pulled beidou??? wow everyone’s jealous (pulled as in literally from the banner and in this context but no i do not have beidou and no i definitely do not want to talk abt it)
god made beidou and zhongli just so all of us could have a sexuality crisis
anyways, being w her is hard i will not lie
not bc she isn’t a capable lover - no, quite the contrary
she’s an amazing partner but the problem here lies in the fact that she’s almost never on land
it’s hard working a long distance relationship but y’all love each other so it works out :,)
when she is physically present however, expect to never be bored
she’ll quietly fix the wrinkles on your shirt or fiddle with your fingers in her hands while she recounts her adventures out on sea
she sometimes gets worried she bores you, however the way your eyes light up every time she tells a tale always reassures her otherwise
definitely the type to let you use her claymore if you want to learn
she’ll provide useful tips as she tucks her hands into your sides gently, positioning you correctly so you don’t hurt yourself
miss girl is an AMAZING cook
i just know she cooks the best meals - i mean she’s friends w xiangling after all
whenever she comes home from a voyage she’ll always insist on making something for you even if she’s abt to pass out
pls tuck her into bed and promise her that she can make you something in the morning <3 the poor woman needs rest
brings you back trinkets but they’re actually very practical
she knows you won’t have much use for a simple charm (not that there’s anything wrong w that) but she believes you’ll like something practical more so she might get you a new engraved knife from the most recent place she’s been to
definitely the type to surprise you when she docks
i can imagine her anchoring her ship out a little ways from liyue harbor and rowing to the dock in order to make sure you aren’t alerted of her presence (i’m sorry the mental picture this made in my mind is SENDING ME INTO ORBIT but she means well i love you)
will take you to remote spots she’s found in her travels through liyue
for example - the little heart shaped island and the island quest (?) that you had to use kaeya the bridge maker for in order to get to im sorry i’ll stop w the kaeya slander
she’ll get you seashell bracelets or necklaces idk why but she gives me those vIBES
they’re super nice ones too, only the highest quality for you
yes she’s a bruh girl but i also see her as someone who would enjoy intimate moments like watching the sunset or something
“yo wanna catch the sunset, i heard it looks sick from the jade chamber” said before ahem it yk fell from the sky
kasdjksfashfjsahf yes ofc i would love to catch the sunset w you pls come home luv
anyways, she is a woman i would give the world for
zhongli
ok gimme a sec i need to get my gentleman mode on
this man,,, THIS MAN
everything w him is so soft like your entire eXISTENCE w him could go in a museum it’s that beautiful
in the morning when he visits you, he always brings you a cup of your favorite tea and a bouquet of glaze lilies he got from madame ping
holds the door for you, pushes the chair out for you, uses a napkin and brushes sauce off your lips when you’re eating - you name something sweet, he’s done it
secretly loves it when you fuss over him
he doesn’t like to fight but say he encountered a group of hillichurls he couldn’t avoid and promptly defeated them but ended up tearing a part of his tux(?) (is it a tux? i could not tell you)
not that big of a deal, i mean it’s a scratch, he’s a 6,000 year old god, he’s dealt w much worse
but seeing the worried crease in your brows as you usher him to sit at the table while quickly grabbing antiseptic to clean his wound
“it’s just a scratch, my dear. do not worry i’ve dealt with much worse.”
you quietly protest abt how “yes zhongli, i understand you’re an archon and have gotten worse injuries but i’m worried about infection just please let me take care of you ok? <3″
when you say that he feels weird emotions,,, wdym take care of him?
he’s always taken care of himself or been expected to take care of others as the former ruling deity of liyue so having someone else genuinely worry abt his wellbeing creates a warm feeling in his chest
he strikes me as the type to knit you something??? idk maybe it’s the grandpa vibes but i headcanon that he would knit you a scarf for the colder weather, it’s cute
in the privacy of your home, he really likes picking you up
he loves it when you wrap your legs around his middle while he gets up to go do the dishes or smthg
domesticity go brrrr
if you’re into making flower crowns, he would totally have you on his lap and wordlessly hand you a glaze lily whenever you expectantly hold your hand out while weaving the flowers together
he expects you to make the crown for yourself but when you place the crown on his head and it fits perfectly while simultaneously tucking a glaze lily behind your ear, he looks at you dumbstruck
his mouth parts open in awe and it’s quite literally the cutest thing
you’ve broken him
thinks it’s the sweetest thing - will keep it on his head for the whole day
he’ll even put it in water before he sleeps so it won’t wilt and he can wear it the next day <3
scenic picnics!! scenic picnics!!
the type to take you to the nicest spots in liyue to chat abt the history of the land w you over a cup of tea and your favorite food (whatever you like, he doesn’t mind)
recounts the people he’s met in his long life before finishing off by saying you’re by far the best person he’s met
zhongli strangles lovingly come home soon
thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3
#teethrottingfluff#xiao x reader#childe x reader#zhongli x reader#beidou x reader#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#genshin imagines#genshin scenarios#childe genshin impact#zhongli genshin impact#xiao genshin impact#beidou genshin impact#genshin fluff#tartaglia#childe#kaeya#zhongli#beidou#xiao
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im down bad for the obey me brothers... idk if you write straight up nsfw, but if you do could i maybe get mc asking the brothers to finger her until she cums 👉🏻👈🏻 i saw someone ask this on another blog and ive been obsessed with this idea ever since. thank you in advance!
Just made it under the wire for Sexual Sunday!!!
Obey Me Boys + Naughty MC Headcanons (NSFW)
Lucifer
Startled initially, but delighted with your boldness
“You need only ask, my dear one.”
Would have you sit on his lap in his study where you asked him
No one is going to bother you in there because no one, besides you, would dare enter on their own
Once you’re settled he’d pull one glove off his hand with his teeth
His other hand is currently wrapped around your waist
Despite being gloved all the time, his touch is cool on your outer thigh
It slowly moved up your leg and under your uniform skirt
Moving to your inner thigh only when it was under the thin pleaded material
He’d gently urge your legs open, and start to stroke you
On the outside of your panties at first. Feeling them get moist
Then, when you were whimpering on his kneed, he’d slip his fingers past your panties and inside you
His touch is decisive and firm
Well practiced, he has you cumming in seconds or hours
Depends on his mood that day
Does not need you to reciprocate. He’ll get his eventually. Right now is about you
Mammon
Shocked, at first, but quickly tries to recover and act cool
“Ha. Of course you would come to The Great Mammon, and your first man, to take care of you doll.”
Would take you to his room; and be immediately embarrassed at the state it’s in
He wasn’t expecting company
He lays you down on the bed, nestled in his expensive Egyptian cotton sheets, and starts with a soft kiss.
He’d groan audibly when he pulled up your RAD skirt to see you wearing the designer underwear he bought you
Just for him
He’d keep them on and slip his hand down you panties
His touch is shy, at first
He wants to make sure he’s doing it right, what you like
When he starts to hear you moan and feel you buck up into his hand, he gets more confident
Mammon can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. So it’s no different in bed
Whispers a lot of “you like that baby?”, “does that feel good?”, “you look so hot baby.” in your ear
When you do cum he feels very proud of himself
He’ll lay next to you and kiss you softly
Will ask you to return the favor cause he’s super hard now
Levi
Immediate panic attack
“W-W-Whaaaattt??!”
Doesn’t believe you, at first. Why would you want a gross otaku like him to do....that to you??
Once you convince him that you’re telling him the truth, then you have to convince him to actually do it
He’s red as a tomato
You’d have to go to your room because Levi can’t do it in front of his figurines
He doesn’t want them to see him being all ecchi
Tries to undress you, but his hands shake too much
You’ll have to take your panties, and whatever else, off yourself
Once you’ve reached the point of no return, he’ll screw his courage to the sticking place and go for it
You’re his precious Hime-sama. He’d do anything for you
Despite his nerves, he’s really good at this
All those hours of gaming have given his fingers incredibly dexterity
No one is more surprised than you when he has you cumming so face
Still super shocked that he did this with you, but also a little proud of himself
Wouldn’t dream of asking you to do anything for him. He’d die of embarrassment if he had to ask
Satan
Surprised to say the least, but attempts to remain calm
“Well if....that’s what you want....”
Would take you back to his room for privacy
Would need to clear off his bed of the dozen or so books on it, but would set you down carefully on the comforter
He’s a little nervous
He’s usually not a sexually person (like some idiots he could name)
But something about you lights a fire in him
It’s strange to be burning up inside with something other than anger
His touch is deliberate and sound
You’ve asked him to make you cum. And cum you shall.
He doesn’t pussy-foot around and gets right to the task of fondling you
His fingers stroking your clit. Jutting in and out of you rhythmically
He won’t admit how much it turns him on to hear you say his name, but he’ll ask you to say it again
Calls you his ‘little kitten’ when he asks if you’re going to come
When you do his chest swells with pride. Let’s see those idiots do that to you
Would be interested in reciprocation, but won’t ask for it. If you offer, he’d be willing. A gentleman doesn’t do favors for reward though.
Asmo
Delighted beyond measure
“Ah~! My sweet [Y/N]! How naughty!”
Asmo, of course, is the most eager to please you
You coming to him openly for pleasure is a rare treat
One he’s going to take advantage of
He’d take you to his room and lay you on his bed like the princess you are
Takes his time getting you out of your RAD uniform
He doesn’t want your clothes wrinkled. Plus he wants to see all of you.
Will kiss and tease any patch of skin he can get his hands on
As he said, this is a rare treat. He’s going to take advantage of it
His touch on your apex is as teasing as his kisses
They are infuriatingly light. But he knows what he’s doing
Asmo is obviously the most experienced
So he knows how to give his partner mind shattering orgasms
Will tease and taught and tempt you until your body bows off the bed and you’re practically gushing around his fingers
Would want you to reciprocate, or let him fuck you. Let’s both feel good together.
Beel
Turns about as red as his hair when you ask him.
"S-Sure. If you want.”
Would want to go it in your room. He doesn’t want Belphie to walk in on you two
Nervous
He’s not the most experienced out of the bunch
Until now, he’s only ever thought about eating, or working out, or his brothers
Not until you
Would let you lay yourself on the bed and cover over to you
He’s scared about crushing you
His touch is a bit clunky
His hands are big and rough, and he doesn’t know what to do with them
But, he’s earnest
He genuinely wants to make you feel good so he tries his hardest
Asks a lot of questions like “am I going this right?”, “does this feel good?”, “is this ok?” to make sure he’s doing it right
When you cum, he licks his fingers. Fascinated with what you taste like. You’re his new favorite flavor
Doesn’t ask you to reciprocate. Too embarrassed to ask. Just wants to hold you. That makes him feel good.
Belphie
Slow, sleepy blink followed by slow, sleepy grin
“Eeeeh...[Y/N]-chan. You’re a pervert.”
Would take you up to his attic room so you can be alone
There’s a sky light with stars that’s really romantic
He wants you to see stars before you see stars
Nuzzles you in bed to breath in your scent
He loves the way you smell
Takes off your uniform top and panties, but leaves your bra and skirt on
He likes your skirt. And you look sluttier half naked than fully naked
Will get right down to business on you
Touching you roughly to pull an orgasm out of you
But he doesn’t stop there
He’ll pull another. Then another. Until once where you were begging him to make you cum now you’re begging him to stop.
He thinks your whimpers, teetering between pleasure & pain, are so adorable
So is your puffy, swollen cunt
Won’t ask you to reciprocate. He’s already got off on your weak, gentle crying. Will hold you and snuggle you for the rest of the night.
#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#obey me#obey me beelzebub#obey me mammon#obey me asmodeus#obey me belphie#obey me lucifer#obey me leviathan#obey me levi#obey me asmo#obey me satan#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmo x reader#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me levi x reader#obey me mammon x reader#obey me belpie x reader#obey me beel x reader#mammon x reader#mammon#leviathan#levi x reader#lucifer#lucifer x reader#beel x reader#beelzebub x reader#belphie x reader#satan#obey me headcanons#obey me hc
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bisexual│mcyt hc
warnings: small mentions of hate, fluff
prompt: (requested 1 & 2) “Hello uh I saw one of your posts about the dream smp reacting to you coming out so I was wondering if you haven't already done it can you do dream smp reacting to you coming out as bisexual?”
“Hello yamturd so I was wondering if maybe you could do tubbo, Tommy and Ranboo reacting to reader coming out as bisexual or lesbian if you haven't already done it :)”
pairings: irl platonic! dream, ranboo, tommy and tubbo ; c!technoblade
a/n: if i offend or misinterpret anything in this hc, please feel free to message and correct me otherwise. i will always try to correct or delete this post if asked so <33
sending my love to all those who identify as bisexual <33
wc: (1.5k) - m.list
dream -
considering his prideful personality sometimes, you probably wanted to play with his ego and drop subtle hints
not anything too obvious, but enough to make him kick himself when he realizes
though it was admittedly difficult since he plays into the dnf ship so much that he thinks you’re also joking more than half the time
imagine you two were in a voice call one evening and randomly discussing the recent fanon and what would be funny to turn into canon (to mess with the fandom)
you’ve been recently shipped with two other content creators, both of opposing female and male gender, separately and together
“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind hitting that.”
“Which one?”
“Both.”
He’d laugh, but you didn’t.
“Wait, you’re serious? You actually identify as…?”
“Bisexual. Yeah, I’m pretty sure anyway.”
“Y/n, that’s amazing.”
takes pride in the fact that you trust him, but would feign being upset that you messed with him for as long as you did
be jokingly offended if he found out someone knew before him
“Wait…”
“Yes?”
“You told Bad??”
“Yeah, he was one of the first.”
“W— Why??”
It was your turn to laugh while he gawked in disbelief.
“It’s Bad! Of course I told him.”
“… Fair enough.”
hate is a given, and he’ll always be there to support and defend you
he’ll always ask your permission before taking any action, however, because he respects you too much and knows you can fight your own battles
dream is someone will show relentless support, whether that be through words or moral support, he’ll always be there for you
c!technoblade -
i honestly feel like you never officially came out to techno
as you began to recognize yourself as bisexual, you slowly expressed yourself around him more openly to the point where he unconsciously knew
it’d probably would have hit him in the most random moment after months of assuming he knew
imagine you’re in the midst of battle when techno paused entirely with wide eyes
“Y/n!”
“What!?”
“Are you gay??”
you would tease him when discussing your love life in one-sided conversations with him; him basically choosing to ignore you when you talk to him
“Honestly, Techno, how could you not want to hit that?”
“Please, just stop.”
(i’ve written this before but will stand by this that) he truly doesn’t care for your sexuality
you’re a friend, someone he trusts and relies on, he doesn’t need to consider who you’re attracted to since he sees you for your skills and friendship
the only, and only time he is mindful of your sexuality depends on others unnecessary comments about it
the smp is a known judgement free land, but there will always be someone with ignorant opinions that he is always quick to shut down (or kill)
nothing much can be said besides the fact that you’ll always be y/n to him: a loyal friend and someone he would fight the world for
ranboo -
oh sweet ranboo, dear ranboo
considering how openly supportive and kind he naturally is, you didn’t question the idea of telling him
i’d like to imagine that unlike most where you planned or waited to tell, the moment you knew, he would know soon after
imagine you called him before he began his lore stream to hype him up
you both were talking about more mundane things to calm his nerves as people joined when you brought it up
“Oh actually, before you start, I wanted to tell you something.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Well, I— I’m Bisexual.”
“…You’re tELLING ME THIS WHEN I’M ABOUT TO START MY STREAM??”
“Y/n! I’m so happy for you, that’s amazing!”
he’s incredibly patient concerning how you wanted others to know or when you were ready to be completely out
similar to c!techno with the same beliefs you’re still y/n, and nothing has changed besides you coming out as yourself
he’s your go to when days are rough, because he knows how to help you understand you’re still loved as the same y/n and nothing less
“Hey, hey, listen to me. I love you, y/n. We all do, and you’ll never be alone when things get rough, alright?” (love /p)
knows how to silently deal with hate in his chat unless it becomes evident enough to address it (doesn’t want to bring attention to meaningless words until it becomes serious)
ranboo’s your rock and makes show that he’ll never believe anything other than that you deserve love
tommyinnit -
as someone who took pride in defending the LGBTQ+ community, you had no hesitation when coming out to tommy
if any, your reluctance would come from accepting yourself to the point to be open with other people
it’s not as if he didn’t accept you, he could never imagine doing so in the slightest, but he probably wouldn’t know what to say initially
imagine you both were in the midst of playing bedwars together in a recording for a video
he had been busy gathering emeralds while you remained at the base, and the comforting silence gave you the confidence to blindly address it
“Hey Tommy?”
“What, y/n? I’m in the middle of something right now.”
“Oh, um, I’m pretty sure I’m bisexual.”
“…”
“…Tommy?”
“…”
“T— Tommy?”
it’d be dead quiet for a few seconds before you heard the noise of him rustling in realization
“Wait wait wait, you’re serious? You’re bisexual?”
“Haha yeah, yeah, I am.”
“WHA—!”
he was happy for you, to say the least
tommy loves to joke, and one he loved to make would be your attraction to both genders
you like women? pog!
you like men? a shame, honestly
if you were publicly out, his favorite bit would be to include you in his obnoxious swooning
imagine he was streaming while talking about his love for women
“Boys, honestly, the ladies just can’t resist me.”
The ding of discord notified you entering the call, the sound of your laughter immediately coming through.
“I agree, Tommy, I definitely agree.”
“Y/n! You are attracted to women, and I am also attracted to women. You can agree women are amazing, yes?”
“I can, Tommy. Women are indeed amazing.”
“Good lad!”
“Tommy, you do realize I’m not only attracted to w—”
“Shush, we don’t speak of that.”
he showed his support by normalizing your sexuality, his acceptance quick and easily integrated into your lives
(this is getting long but—) tommy was well aware he lacked some knowledge when being in the LGBTQ+ community, but openly voiced his ignorance as a sign of awareness itself
he was always quick to correct either himself or others, he refused to accept slander of any type in his streams
would probably try to keep it light heartedly, but scold nonetheless
tommy was your figurative cheerleader, always there to include and uplift you, whether that be through the smallest gestures or loudest cheers
tubbo -
poor tubbo
since he wasn’t the most careful with secrets, you probably withheld telling him till you were ready for most to know
this isn’t to deter anything of not trusting him, he’s still supportive and loving tubbo that wouldn’t dare do anything purposeful against you
if anything, you might have forgotten that he didn’t know when you were casually taking about it within a group
imagine you and Ranboo were trying to get him to sleep one early morning but gave up
you started talking about personal stuff and the topic of your love life came up, specifically the attraction to someone of the same gender
“I don’t know, Ranboo, I mean, I think I like them but at the same time I’m not sure.”
“That’s fai—”
“Wait, y/n. You’re gay??”
“Bisexual, actually.”
“WaAA—”
his very sleep deprived state was extremely happy and emotional for you
he’s like the little duckling with a knife, like he loves you completely but will try to hurt anyone that offends you
like tommy, he has no personal knowledge when being in the LGBTQ+ community but will solely learn for your sake
whether you’re younger or not, tubbo never fails to remind you that he looks up to you
he gives his all and won’t hesitate to provide in any way he can if needed
“You matter,” he’ll always say, “you’re important and no one else’s opinion matter.”
is proud to be your friend and expresses his platonic love in full, for you’re you and are so brave to be yourself despite all
choosing not to tag my usual taglist just cause its a headcanon with a specific request <33 (huge ty to @basilly and @inniterhq though for the advice/motivation to finish this)
#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#mcyt x y/n#mcyt headcanons#dreamwastaken x reader#dreamwastaken x you#dreamwastaken x gn!reader#dreamwastaken headcanon#technoblade x reader#technoblade x you#technoblade x gn!reader#technoblade headcanon#ranboo x reader#ranboo x you#ranboo x gn!reader#platonic!ranboo x reader#ranboo headcanon#tommyinnit x reader#tommyinnit x you#tommyinnit x y/n#tommyinnit x gn!reader#platonic!tommyinnit x reader#tommyinnit headcanon#tubbo x reader#tubbo x you#tubbo x gn!reader#tubbo underscore x reader#platonic!tubbo x reader#tubbo headcanon#mcyt headcanon fluff
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𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗗 𝗪𝗘 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗
Osamu always followed a routine. Waking earlier than the sun, running a mile before eight in the morning, eating three meals a day, and getting eight hours of sleep every night are just some things he always did without fail. You, on the other hand, seem to always change things up. Just maybe, he enjoys your unpredictability.
𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: husband!osamu x f!housewife reader
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: fluff, domestic life, mild suggestive themes at the end, trying to start a family, food/eating, im pretty sure i used no pronouns bc it was in third person
𝘄𝗰: 1.7K+
𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: uhh yeah this was kinda indulgent and sorta inspired by that one scene in twd when rick wants to make babies w michonne
Alarm clocks were something that was never in use in your household, except in the kitchen. Osamu figured by his third year of high school that he had no use for them, as he always woke up a bit earlier than his scheduled alarm. His regimens were unwavering, so much so that his internal alarm clock was practically set in stone and would wake him everyday at 6:30AM with no chance of error. The fact his sleeping schedule was incredibly stable helped, too. The usual infuriating sound you were used to in high school was unheard of after graduating and moving in with Osamu. Even when you studied in university, you were never jolted awake by the blaring sound resonating from your phone’s speakers since your now-husband was always the one to gently wake you up. Nowadays, you usually woke up when your body decides it’s ready to start the day.
Sunlight seeped into your bedroom through your white flowy curtains that were pulled apart, letting the rays of light travel in freely. The intrusion woke you gently from your slumber, causing you to flutter your eyes open and stretch your limbs instantaneously without another thought. The familiar smell of sweet pancake batter and coffee caught your attention, the sounds of pans and dishes clinking following soon after. It was undoubtedly Osamu that was responsible for all the stimuli that was attacking your senses. Standing up from the bed, your feet hit the hardwood floors that felt ice cold each morning. Your body moved on its own, following the smell of the sweet caramel coffee you know your husband had made, fingers cascading down the smooth handrail of the staircase. Once you reached the kitchen, the sight of Osamu's shirtless and muscular back — barely covered by his black apron — was turned to you as he was tending to the eggs on the stove.
“Damn, now this is a nice view”
Samu’s lips stretched out into a grin once he heard the saccharine sound of your voice, a small laugh bubbling from his throat and escaping quietly. He turned off the stove, seeing as the eggs have already cooked to your liking, sunny side up with a slightly runny yolk. He turned to face you with his pan in hand, ready to plate the eggs alongside the pancakes. He took in your beauty for a moment, giving a real good look at you. He took in everything about you; your messy hair that practically resembled a knot, your face free of makeup, your skimpy house clothes you only wore during hot summer nights, and your manicured hands fidgeting with your wedding band.
“Yer’ awake early today, thought ya would be sleepin’ till noon,” he stated with a light chuckle. He gently placed the eggs onto the plates, careful with his movements as to not accidentally pop the yellow bulb of yolk. He then disposed of the non-stick pan by putting it in the sink before turning to you. His calloused hands held onto your waist and pulled you close, leaving not a single centimetre of air between your bodies.
“Thank you for the breakfast, honey,” You said quietly before burrowing your face into his chest, the muscle of his pecs caressing the apples of your right cheek and your arms wrapped around his neck. He let out a soft hum, letting you know that he was aware of your gratitude. After a moment of just standing there, holding each other, you felt his plush lips places a feather-light kiss on your face. Despite being married for a while, and dating for even longer, his small actions never failed to have your cheeks heat up.
Silently, you two separated and sat in your respective seats and began eating the food your doting husband had made but not before you two softly whispered “itadakimasu”. Mornings like these were always calm and serene. Perhaps for some, it would be too quiet for comfort. However, you two enjoyed starting your day this way; with gentle affection and basking in each other’s presences. Words didn’t need to fill the silence as it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, you two simply just liked being around each other. Your nearly telepathic bond was indescribable, but Osamu always found himself lucky to have found someone he was so compatible with.
It didn’t take long for you two to finish your meals, as the cook always made delicious food despite how simple or basic it may be. After you two were done, you gathered up the plates and placed them in the sink. You began to wash the dishes, including the utensils that Samu had used to cook breakfast. With your back turned to him, he took the opportunity to sneak up behind you and snake his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“What’s yer plans for today, my love?” he asked you, genuinely curious since you never had concrete routines. As a housewife of sorts, you were pretty much free to do whatever you wanted.
“Well actually, I was thinking of joining you at our store. I don’t have anything to do except laundry and clean which I could always do in the evening since it doesn’t take me too long,” You responded, resisting your urge to shrug since you didn’t want to accidentally brush off his chin that rested on you.
“Are ya sure? I thought you’d want to-“
“Yes, I’m sure honey. Actually…” You began softly. Trailing off as you finished washing the last thing in the sink, which was the pan, and placing it on the drying rack. You dried off your hands on a tea towel before turning to face Samu and holding his face softly with both hands.
“I’m thinking since we are technically the store managers, what if we promote one of our employees to a manager? We’d get more free time to maybe work on opening another branch or free time in general. I know we’ve been talking about travelling too so… what do you think?” You asked sheepishly. While Onigiri Miya was the business you two started together, you always saw it as Samu’s business. For any business decision, you believed Osamu should have the final say as it was his pride and joy.
A smile spread wide on his face, trying his best not to squeal like a child due to his excitement. He peppered your face with kisses, his plump lips leaving a slight residue. You burst out laughing at his antics, only making his grin impossibly bigger. You let out a whine of annoyance, crying out that “You’re makin’ my face all sloppy ’n gross, Samu!”. He noticed a while back that you tend to speak in a way that mimicked his Kansai accent whenever you were overjoyed, and he loved every bit of it.
“Well, I was just thinking more about our future… y’know? At some point we’ll need to expand which means we can’t be the only ones running the shops, we’ll need to promote employees to manager. And in the long run, it’ll give us more free time to pursue other goals apart from the shop,” You spoke, your dulcet voice captivating him while you spoke about your future with him.
He took your left hand that resided on his cheek into his own, before bringing the velvety smooth skin closer to his face. He pressed a kiss onto the wedding band you wore, the grey diamond shining due to the rays of sun that entered through the multitude of windows in your home. He remembered you saying you wanted to have grey diamonds for your wedding bands, as it reminded you so much of his hair that caught your eye back in high school. He initially hated the idea, finding it embarrassing that it was his hair of all things that caught your attention. Now, he finds the odd request endearing, as it was a reminder of him. He remembered that you made a joke about it that he was now wrapped around your finger, literally and figuratively, and he couldn’t have agreed more.
“Thinkin’ ‘bout our future, hm sweetheart?” He asked with his tone indicating he was trying to tease of fluster you. You rolled your eyes at his childish behaviour, hitting his bare pec lightly with your palm to feign annoyance. He chuckled at your reaction before pressing a sickeningly sweet kiss onto your lips, his left hand gripping your waist securely while the other held your face gently. God, he just loved kissing you. If he could, he would never pull away from you, but alas you had to.
“I’m always thinking about our future, asshole. Before I would think about our future in terms of marrying you. Now that we’re married, I gotta think ahead. Like how we’re gonna grow old and we’ll be giving each other heart medicine,” You laughed, imagining what Samu would be like if he was old and bed ridden. He probably wouldn’t be grumpy, he never was.
“Yeah? Well I’m thinkin’ of our future too, y’know? Like near future… like startin’ a family,” He mentioned calmly, his eyes locking with your gorgeous irises to search for any sort of reaction. Your eyes gleamed, and his heart softened.
“Yeah?” You asked for confirmation, leaning in closer, your breath tickling his face.
“Yeah,” He confirmed, closing the gap between you two and kissing you delicately.
You pressed your hands against his chest, pushing him away slightly to break apart the kiss. His eyebrows were furrowed, confused at your actions.
“You need to be at the shop soon,” You replied, slight disappointment weighing heavy on your heart as you just wanted to relish in the moment.
“Ya said we should promote a manager, right? Mori is the first employee to come and I’ll tell him to open the shop using the spare hidden key. Consider this his first day as manager, he knows what to do. Right now, I’m busy gettin’ busy,”
“Oh my god, I hate you,”
© 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗦 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟭. 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗠𝗢𝗗𝗜𝗙𝗬 𝗢𝗥 𝗥𝗘𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗧. 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 !
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @dancingazaleas @izukine @txzierbaby @mitsuluv @xenihime @conniesspringersgf @fiaficsxo @s4ijohs @oblxvion @inumakizone @megumisbimbo
#ch; miya osamu#haikyuu!!#haikyu#hq#haikyu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyū!!#inarizaki#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu fluff#osamu x reader#osamu hcs#osamu drabble#osamu x you#osamu miya#osamu fluff#osamu smut#osamu miya x reader#osamu miya fluff#osamu imagine#osamu miya imagine#haikyuu!! fluff#hq fluff#hq imagine
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Of Fire and Love (Pt. 7)
(Dragon! Yoongi x Reader) (Fantasy au!) (Coe-parenting au)
Summary: You dream, nightmares and sweet memories- Yoongi just tries to hold onto you as best he can but he’s never felt so lonely.
Genre: Fantasy! au, gender exploration, Coe parenting au, Dragon! Yoongi x Reader, Dragon! Hoseok x Sorcerer! jungkook, Minjoon, Taejin
W/c: 20.0k
Tags: Angst, loss of hold on reality, violence, non-explicit sexual content (taejin), possessive behavior, genderfluid characters, gender non conforming characters, gender exploration, alcohol mention,
A/n: For those of you who've followed this story you’ll know that I’ve teased there being a hopekook relationship and this chapter touches on their relationship a lot. i dont think it will make anyone uncomfortable because its explicitly stated their love is not sexual- but just a heads up!
- Hoseok and Jungkook cling to the side of a building, their feet gripping the bare inch bricks just narrowly. This library is old, with drafty long hallways and a crumbling facade that doesn't help their predicament, every other brick crumbles when they step to it.
- Every few shimmies Jungkook’s feet slip a little and fear lurches in his gut. he uses every bit of his body to cling. Hoseok has no such misgivings about falling into open space- now the arrows- that might frighten him. Their backs are weighed down with books that make it hard to move, while arrows clang below them against the red stone.
- One almost hits Jungkook’s head and Hoseok shoves it closer to the wall. Panic keeping it laced in Jungkook’s hair, “Keep your head in you idiot!” he shouts over the din and clank of metal armor. The nights and soldiers below them that gather. Every metallic clink against the stone another person come to kill them. Jungkook only grins, but flinches when one strikes closer to Hoseok’s head.
- Searching for books in the human realm isn’t an easy task. Not when all too often they face opposition like this. The humans might be semi-hostile to Jungkook but everyone is out for dragon blood. Enough of the men from this area have already been sent west to the war, but the sheer number of arrows shows that there are still soldiers here guarding this stronghold.
- They hadn’t been here until Jungkook and Hoseok had been spotted. It had been Jungkook’s fault. Dropping a book that echoed loudly- then someone had seen Hoseok’s horns when his hood had fallen and it was all over from there- they’d been made.
- One arrow pins Hoseok’s shirt to the brick as they shimmy along and he rips it loose without a second thought. He can’t shift when it’s like this- it’s too dangerous. Too likely that one of those arrows would hit him and hurt him- unless- “Kookie? any day now!?” Jungkook’s wide eyes are a balm against Hoseok’s frustration, lighting up with blue magic when he puts two and two together. “Oh! Sorry- I’ve got it!”
- The push-pull tide of magic fills the air, trembling with it as Jungkook’s arm glows bright blue along with the whites of his eyes. Every time Jungkook uses his magic Hoseok feels a protective pride flare. Especially when he hears and sees the arrows fall to the ground with a few dozen thuds. Another soldier tries to loose one and it falls like it’s made of lead. Maybe it actually is- maybe that’s the avenue the magic has chosen to take to stop the arrows.
- The soldiers below them stop their flurry brought to awe as the magic makes everything still (even them). The rust crusts in the joints of the armor bringing it to a squeaky halt. The break in the fighting finally gives him an opening to shift. And soon Hoseok is clinging to the side of the tower with claws instead of hands, wings stretching and fluttering. Jungkook gets on his back, a difficult maneuver with the precious books held close.
- One of them slips out and falls onto the stone, and Hoseok swings back around so that Jungkook can lean from his back, hooking his foot around one of Hoseok’s spines and reaching to scoop it up before he rights himself- abdominal muscles straining As he leans over and snatches it from the rooftop.
- Hoseok makes a noise and Jungkook interprets it. “Who you calling a showoff?“ he grins then settles in for a long flight back into dragon territory. A simple strap around Hoseok’s waist keeps Jungkook pinned to his back. It helps to at least elevate some of the strain.
- The first time they’d ever flown 12 hours straight, Jungkook had slid off of his back with a thunk. Looking up surprised at Hobi who’d sniffed through his hair worriedly, wondering why he’d fallen. “I don’t think I can move my legs” his muscles too sore to even clench.
- Hoseok had been laughing when he’d shifted. Helping pull Jungkook up- only to have him fall back down again. “You look like a baby deer Koo, come on- help me unpack at least.” They’d spent the rest of the night huddled around the fire, and not once had Hoseok complained about having to get up to fix dinner or stoke the fire.
- Hoseok and Jungkook have been hunting books on and off for the last ten years, it’s not like they’re unused to unprovoked aggression from the humans. Their two sides are at war- and it’s a wonder the humans aren’t more curious about the ragtag pair of book thieves that have been periodically dipping over the battle lines and raiding their libraries.
- Jungkook wonders what rumors if any, are lingering in the human lands. Jungkook would give anything to keep the smile Hoseok shoots him when he asks one night, “What you think they’ll make urban legends about us in 100 years? Keep your books close and your enemies closer?”
- Whatever the rumors, the pair can only hope that none of them make it back to their father and their uncle. If yoongi got wind of what Hoseok and Jungkook were doing without permission- then he might be tempted to end the war just to make sure they stayed safe. But What Yoongi doesn’t know won’t hurt him. If Hoseok and Jungkook were flitting in between the human lands and the dragon lands on occasion just to see if the nearest city even had a library- well then that’s just that.
- Hoseok and Jungkook never spend more than a month or two away from Yoongi and you. The timing of their homestays Often hinging on how successful their search is going and how many books they’ve collected. Hoseok can only carry so much on his back. They don’t mind coming back periodically to visit and drop off another load. If anything- it gives Seokjin and Yoongi an excuse to take a break or two and the young ones an excuse to enjoy a little coddling.
- Yoongi’s doing better, recently he’s started taking more flights like he used to when Jungkook was a kid. The air does him good and he no longer looks like guilt and sadness and longing are eating away at his soul- like he only comes alive when you wake.
- Over the years, Yoongi has read himself into a tizzy more than once. Always to be brought back by Seokjin encouraging him to rest his eyes and put the books down for a day or two. “This just doesn’t make any fucking sense- first the fairy anatomy and then this- if we could only get our hands on- ugh!“
- Yoongi is about to throw the book and would have if Jin hadn’t caught his wrist. snatching it out of the younger mans hand. Before he can- sparks light up the spine. Yoongi’s anger and fire meeting in the middle- the heat dosent hurt Seokjin’s hand as he extinguishes it with a brush of his palm. Cooling yoongi’s frustration with a knowing look.
- “Yoongi, you need to sleep.” Yoongi doesn’t fight him on it though both of them know he could if he wanted to. He’s been up for days and the bags under his eyes look dangerously like bruises. “Rest is an investment into future productivity Yoongi- you can’t read forever like this without resting your eyes every now and then.”
- Yoongi has always found it hard to sleep with you gone, why waste the hours when every second spent brings them closer to a cure for mortality. Yoongi hopes it’s only a matter of time and not a matter of ‘if’ they’ll be successful. that question keeps him awake no matter how many days it’s been since he slept.
- The next time the boys come home carrying a pile of books for Seokjin and Yoongi to go through Seokjin gives them a look, fingering the spine of one. He corners both of them later- when Yoongi’s away in the kitchens putting a meal together. Happy to have them all home the nesting instinct itching under his skin.
- He fingers the edge of Hoseok’s shirt, his fingers hooking through an edge and tearing it further with a rip. His magic flares just as quickly to fix it and the tear is gone before the shock has left Hoseok’s face. Seokjin raises an eyebrow at Hoseok’s surprise. Seokjin is dressed in a flowy deep plum shirt- parted to show his chest, the rock at the hollow of his throat pulsing with life but swimming with something darker.
- He’s rightfully angry, “I know an arrow hole when I see one, where have you both been where you’ve been being shot at? Hopefully not in the human world” He taps the side of the book in his hands, “And I distinctly remember losing this book over a night of cards with a wizard 300 years ago- so there’s that too.”
- “It was only once-“ Seokjin gives them a withering look and they both melt “okay- maybe more than a few times, but you know how frustrating it was? For us to stay behind and-”
- Seokjin knows why they had to but still can’t reconcile that with his protective instincts. Before they can go any farther Yoongi comes back with a plate full of sliced meats. The fireplace crackles happily in response to him and Hoseok helps Yoongi set up a grate to fry it. The same recipe for marinated meat that you used to make them when they were children. A celebratory meal steeped in tradition and familiarity to welcome Hoseok and Jungkook home.
- Hoseok starts the discussion when Seokjin asks- pointedly if finding libraries and old dragon castles in the countryside and in the mountains had been any harder than usual. It has been- they ran out of places to search for books in the dragon lands years ago. Though they still occasionally spot a new one when they go over the mountains again. A hidden hovel or a falling down castle that’s abandoned or inhabited.
- “You’ve said it yourself Seokjin; a good portion of our family's records are on the other side of the world. I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal, Hoseok and I are more than capable of looking after ourselves.”
- Seokjin sighs, running his hands through his hair. Whatever spell he uses to keep it dark must be wearing off, the tips are looking a little silvery these days, it’s Probably stress. The pile of books in the study that they’ve gone through is becoming cumbersome as well they can barely walk around it. There are probably more than 30,000 that Hoseok and Jungkook have collected in the last 10 years.
- What Jungkook’s saying about their family isn’t wrong; Seokjin’s family did settle on the human side of the mountains first. They were responsible for enlightening humanity to the finer parts of magic. Without Seokjin’s family- the humans would probably still be waving sticks around and hoping for gold on the other end. The books they hunt for are the first records and spell books of witches and wizards that were taught by Seokjin’s father or books from the man himself.
- Not that their paltry party tricks could ever compare to the kind of magic that Seokjin and Jungkook were capable of. But the witches and wizards guilds do have strength in numbers. One which might have a droplet compared to the ocean of a sorcerer’s power, but 100? 1,000? That might be enough to match some spells.
- If the struggle at the border was enough to judge the powers of the guild, then they certainly were a formidable force to deal with. Their spells enchanting the humans swords and armor, making them resistant if not impervious to most fire. That was the only reason why the dragons hadn’t been able to immediately decimate the human army. They had to fight the harder way- with tooth and claw and brute force.
- The dragons would always have strength on their side and the humans would always have the numbers and carelessness with their lives. So short- you’d think they’d be more careful with their lives- but no. Over the years the death tolls have risen on both sides. It helps the human’s odds that they outnumber the dragons five to one.
- It’s been years since they left home- though it still feels weird to think of them ‘leaving’ in any capacity since they still come back almost as much as they leave. In the past few years, Hoseok and Jungkook have often flown across the battle lines or near them. But never close enough to see the battle or the carnage.
- Most of the time they divert their course north and fly over the tall mountains through brisk winds that would have Jungkook's muscles chilled for hours. a predicament usually only fixed by Hoseok curling up with his warm throat and chest cuddled around his too cold soulmate. quieting the protective urge in his stomach that said to breathe fire over the sorcerer- some sort of instinct, probably something instinctively dragon that he barely manages to repress.
- They’ve hunted books through the crags of long empty castles, through cities forgotten and new. They spend a good two months last year in the smaller dragon city to the south. Yoongi sniveled his nose up at them when they told him that’s where they wanted to go next. It felt a lot different than the northern city, the buildings rough made from wood and easily burnt and rebuilt. Definitely wilder and less aristocratic than the north.
- It’d burned down in the last war- so it’s no wonder the dragons there seem less attached to the buildings. some dragon had lit their board house on fire the first night they’d been there, roused from smoke and a shout. hoseok had shifted and carried jungkook out with his teeth hooked into jungkook’s shirt- lifting the younger like a cat would a kitten.
- Seokjin had gifted a map to Hoseok for his last birthday. It’s a delicate bit of magic, spelled to be paper-thin and bendable but the ink never fading or flaking off. Unable to be ripped or stained. The little red dot that shows Hoseok’s location and a black dot for Jungkook's. It changes each time they move- so that they know exactly where they are. Hoseok’s dot even gets a little more feathery when he shifts. The ink feeling fuzzy to the touch.
- The battle lines to the south also change too, rusty orange ink rough to the touch- with every league that the dragons push into the human lands ticking a lines with on the map. all So that hoseok knows how far he has to fly out of the way to avoid it if he wants too.
- Jungkook is just a little bit curious to see what dragons look like in battle, but a cautionary look from Jin and his father was enough to extinguish that possibility. “Trust me- it’s not a thing you should want to see” their father had said cryptically. “You never talk about the last war dad- what was it like?”
- “Bloody and long” was all Yoongi had answered. Because in truth- he’d given as much as he could give to that war. The end had left him broken and with the taste of blood in his mouth that just wouldn’t leave. He’d spent months looking for something in the mountains- an itch under his skin that wasn’t for more hoard.
- The wanting hadn’t abated until he met you and known deep in his bones that he’d never fight for another thing in his life. he’d found what his dragon soul hungered for more than gold or diamonds or anything that glitterd. a family- his hatchlings and his mate.
- But Hoseok and Jungkook are fully grown now and Yoongi still finds himself begging them not to go close to that battle- to stay out of it. Feeling like control and safety is slipping through his claws. The thought of both of them- of gentle Hobi and curious Jungkook getting a taste for carnage like that- Yoongi doesn’t ever want it to happen.
- Even though they already did that day in the manor house all those years ago. Still- a father can’t help but want to protect his hatchlings. Even if they’re both taller than him now they’re still his hatchlings. Jungkook especially likes to playfully lean his arm on his shoulders And Yoongi can’t ever correct him. He would let the youngster do anything without little more than an annoyed sigh, just as he had let him swing from his horns when he was a baby.
- When Seokjin had gifted the map, Hoseok had asked why they’re where two dots and not just one. “In case you get separated” the older sorcerer had said, a faint flush on his cheeks as he let Jungkook manhandle him into position on the couch perfect for snuggling. Sending smoke-filled bubbles to smart Jungkook’s nose when he keeps touching his thighs and rolling his eyes at his nephew’s endless touchy feely-ness. But even Hoseok can see the way that Seokjin relaxes with both of them around. Their presence a welcome reprieve from-
- “Yoongi- would you mind not breathing your lizard breath all over your sons?” Seokjin says haughty. Yoongi raises his massive head from where the coffee table should be (moved to make room for yoongi in his dragon form). blinking at Seokjin before his tongue darts out to lick at Hoseok’s hands- ignoring the older sorcerer.
- Hoseok can feel his happiness rippling out from his father at having his hatchlings back in his nest. He flicks his tongue out to hit Seokjin’s palm too and the elder recoils with a disgusted noise that makes Hoseok and Jungkook laugh.
- As if on queue, a book on the shelf falls, interrupting the moment.
- Every head flicks in the direction of the movement, the flecks of dust in the room pause, hanging in its shafts of light. the air too still to be from anything other than Seokjin’s magic or Jungkook’s- it doesn’t discriminate. After another moment. Hoseok gets up and puts the book back. the spine feels warm to the touch and for a moment- Hoseok holds onto it- savoring the warmth before he puts the book back on the shelf.
- There have been more moments like that than they’re all willing to admit, and despite their conversations- no one wants to admit what it is. The things that move on their own or flowers that Seokjin’s watched be plucked and fall to the ground in neat concentric circles. He’d gone out into the garden and found a whole pile of blooms- piles around a suspiciously shaped lump. It’s always the multi colored ones. Those moments are as startling as they are special.
- Everytime you wake Seokjin scolds you for it.
- “You realize the more you try to act outside of the dream world the more likely it is that you won’t be able to return back to your body?” Seokjin had snapped. Tae a happy puddle in his arms. You’re tearing into the food on the table while Tae just nibbles. He’s never hungry in the mornings really. Hadn’t been even when he’d been awake.
- Yoongi wonders if it has anything to do with the little field trips your soul takes outside of your body. The breaks you take from dreaming when you travel as a ghost in their world. Moving books and picking flowers and the countless other little moments.
- “It’s not like I’m trying to control it Seokjin, it just kind of happens. when I watch you guys- when I feel closer to you- it's easier” you definitely do not mention you’re only ever knocked out of your body after you’ve had a nightmare, but Taehyung knows. He looks up at your words, an egg yolk sliding out of his spoon and onto his plate bursting golden.
- Taehyung meets your eyes and you shake your head imperceptibly, and he keeps eating, declining to offer up the information that would surely make Seokjin and Yoongi more concerned. But the clock is ticking- and they only have 18 hours with you this year. No one wants to waste it arguing even if it does scare Yoongi.
- Every time when you wake and it takes a little longer for you to stir, Taehyung always awake and upright before you. Yoongi stroking your back in small circles- calling your name as you furrow your eyebrows and blink awake. kissing your face a few dozen times before you’re truly back. It only took 3 kisses the first year- and now it takes at least 8. Yoongi’s the kind of dragon that keeps track of that sort of thing.
- Later in their own private time together- Tae asks Seokjin with a pout “Why can’t I come out of the dream world to see you guys like she can Jinnie?” Seokjin washes his back in the bath, his hand warm and soapy. Jin exults in washing his love with long strokes, a little scratchy just the way that Tae likes it. just gentle enough to make his love squirm and make the water slosh against the sides of the silver tub. “It's not a thing you should want Tae, none of us know the long-term effects.”
- “But still,” Taehyung’s eyes are like warm honey over peaches, “it would be nice to see you more often.” Seokjin hums a gorgeous sound and Tae relaxes further into his lover's hold. Seokjin’s hands thumbing along his sternum counting his ribs and indulging in the touch. Tae shivers, shifting uneasily in the water, neediness sinking into his core like hot fire. Seokjin’s hand slips below the water and the layer of bubbles.
- “there are any number of reasons why the magic doesn’t want to work on her. It’s been a while and she’s probably just getting used to it, I probably just have to tweak the spell a little bit for y/n” Taehyung sighs, Seokjin’s mouth swallowing a bitten-off moan, kissing down his lovers throat and forsaking his mouth. Tae’s hips rock up, knocking the warm water out of the tub and onto the slate floor with a slosh that neither of them pay much mind to. “I’m not sure I want to hear another name from your lips when you’ve got your hands on me.”
- Seokjin smirks against Tae’s neck, the movement of his hand keeping up its pace under the water. His actions and his sly smirk betraying his words “Why wouldn’t I? We’re having a conversation, aren’t we? Or is something distracting you my love? Would you rather have me chanting your name?” like an incantation- if love were a spell then tae and jin would have the strongest.
- It is nice to see your family even for a few seconds on the occasion that you leave your body. It makes you feel like you’re helping, even just a little bit to watch over them. You try to disrupt something just to let them know you’re there. The first few years- the only thing you can manage is blowing out candles. but it gets easier to move books or make pages flip over as time goes on. and you get to ruffle their hair or pet over it as they sleep Where you stand and watch. Making sure their dreams don’t turn into nightmares.
- You wish you could say the same for your own dreams, but those are far more difficult to control.
- Often Yoongi will look at whatever just moved, and speak into the open air, through the glass barrier of the dream you can barely hear him. But he’ll go to the couch and sit, hold out his hand palm up on the cushion and you’ll touch it. Knowing by the way he shivers- that he can just barely feel the shape of a hand touching his. Yoongi has always had a thing for hand holding. And it’s worth it- just from the way he smiles.
- But too Yoongi it just feels like you’re already a ghost. It just makes him yearn for a time when it wasn’t like this. How will it feel? When he’s been without you longer than he was ever with you? If they don’t find a cure for mortality soon- then he’ll find out. His boys too.
- It feels like he can almost taste you on the air when you come and visit them in-between your naps (its easier for Yoongi to say they’re just that- just really long naps- even if it makes him feel childish, the weight of ‘eternal sleep’ is just too heavy on his mind some days).
- For that reason, he favors his dragon from more than his human one these days. it’s not like he can see you at all in either, but he can tell when you’re there and almost smell you when he’s in dragon form. And that feels more real than curling up around your coffin upstairs (or when he starts to worry that you actually are dead- that you won’t be able to come back).
- It’s been a long time since they started searching but it barely feels like a second to them. Like hardly any time has passed at all. Such is the way of immortals- years pass like months, and days like hours. It’s been years since Hoseok and Jungkook truly stopped aging. They’re both frozen somewhere in their twenties, their hair keeps growing, but their faces never change, their bodies don’t change either accept to get stronger or weaker with the care they show them.
- Jungkook doesn’t like to think about his age when he can help it. He still feels like a little kid whenever Yoongi and Seokjin look at him, sharing a special secret adult look that he’s not sure he’ll ever be capable of giving. He’s very content to stay the baby of their little family.
- But being the baby also means that Jungkook gets treated like a child too.
- “We’ve been over this, it's too dangerous boys,” Yoongi says it like it will make his heart break to see them in danger. If Yoongi knew they’d been shot at- even by one arrow- he’d fly over to the human cities and start leveling them one by one.
- “Not anymore, we’re not kids dad” Hoseok looks fluffed up, his curly hair and wild, so long it almost brushes his shoulders like Jungkook’s. (More than once Seokjin has snipped his fingers threateningly at it, “you both look wilder than the wind I swear, one night I’m going to take a pair of scissors to you whether you like it or not.”)
- That is just another thing that makes Hoseok ache all through his chest, and he’s never been able to put a finger on why it makes him uncomfortable. The thought of needing to have short hair for whatever reason. The same feeling lights up in his chest when Jungkook continues- “ right! we’re not boys- we’re men!” Jungkook’s swinging feet under his chair beg to differ.
- Yoongi sucks on his lower lip, hands tightening over the back of Jin’s chair. They talked about this possibility while the boys were gone, after the last time when they had a similar argument. In the years since your departure, Jin’s taken on something of a parental role with the boys- and it’s nice to have a second set of ears again. Even if it would make both Yoongi and Jin shriek indignantly to be compared to anything like what you and yoongi had. “They’re not children anymore Yoongi, you’re going to have to start letting them take their own risks sooner rather than later”
- “But I already did,” I already let them not be here he wants to say. Every single parental instinct of his telling him to keep his hatchlings close. But it’s better than it was before; now he rarely feels the urge to fly on after them and drag them back by the scruff of their necks. Sometimes when he’s out flying he pretends he’s doing just that.
- Seokjin taps his fingers against the table, sparks dancing between his fingertips. “As much as your parental concern is sweet, you have to admit- nothing can hurt Jungkook or me in any meaningful way.” Seokjin is being as soft as he can be. “You know this, and it's not like Hoseok is unformidable either.”
- Hobi gives Jungkook a toothy grin at that. Seokjin lets Yoongi stew with it for a moment. And the feeling in Hoseok’s chest dissipates. Strange. Though he’s glad to have it gone. Though he knows it will probably have him up later, turning in bed while Jungkook sleeps beside him in the little mock nests they’ve made together since they were kids. Sure that something must be wrong with him- something other than the feeling poisoning the happiness in his chest.
- “If you don’t let them go they might choose to go all on their own. Would you rather find out after? Or before?” Hoseok and Jungkook barely manage to keep a straight face. Their father will put two and two together if they even so much as grin. Yoongi’s pout as he looks down at the table and weighs the options is cute. Under the table, Hoseok’s leg jumps with nervous energy.
- You certainly think letting them go is a better option- standing in the corner of the room, not that any of your family can see you when you’re like this. A specter and a ghost and just as lonely. How your hand itches to reach out and smooth out that pout on Yoongi’s face. But you can’t, not in this form. Upstairs in your glass coffin, your hand twitches. Reaching out to do the touching that your soul wants to do.
- Yoongi can’t argue with logic like that even if he wants to. Honesty and freedom are better than a protective cage and lies by omission on both sides- no matter how loving the cage is.
- “You can go-“ he starts, interrupted by Hoseok and Jungkook’s excited whoops, Jungkook tossing his chopsticks into the hair where they hover and spin like pinwheels, before he jumps to Hoseok’s side, grinning at him while Hoseok pumps a fist in the air. The fire in the hearth flares higher from Hoseok happiness Sending sparks onto the floor. “yahhhhhh you’re going to burn the meat, and this carpet is 500 years old!” Seokjin fans it with his hand as if to knock the sparks off of the carpet and back onto the slate.
- They pull themselves over to Yoongi’s side and drag him into a tight hug, Jungkook pressing his forehead against Yoongi’s cheek in thanks. Yoongi goes stiff at first and then melts as they squeeze him tight. Hoseok hooking his chin over Yoongi’s narrow shoulder. Pulling away only to immediately begin to lay out plans of where they want to go first. Jungkook jumps up to go get that map, already dreaming Cities and wizarding guilds that they only know from the maps and Seokjin’s stories.
- Not that they haven’t been to half of them already- but going there with Yoongi’s blessing is much more exciting than sneaking around behind their backs. There were a few places that they were too worried to brave alone and without backup should something bad happen. But Now they can ask questions and learn where more books might be hidden, what cities to avoid and the secrets Seokjin might know of each.
- “Maybe a little bit of a change of scenery will do you good” Seokjin comments, a small smile tugging at his lips at the boy's excitement. Hoseok almost asks if he wants to come too- just to get out for a little bit. But the moment passes when jungkook unfurls the map in front of the hearth. Seokjin never leaves Tae’s side unless he has to. “I’ll teach you some cloaking spells and the like to hide Hobi’s horns.” His hands hover on Yoongi’s shoulders, reassuring him that he’s made the right choice.
- Weeks later, on the other side of the mountains Hoseok and Jungkook cling to a rooftop again pressing their bodies close to the slate roofs. A few new books in their bag and a group of angry soldiers shouting at them from below the parapet, enchanted arrows seeking them out until Jungkook cuts them off with a wave of his hand, learning to do it first off rather than wait until they are shot at.
- “Was this what we bargained for Hobi?” Jungkook asks with a grin as he looks over at his soul bonded partner. Hobi answers his grin with one of his own. “Maybe more- but I think we’ll raise hell either way.” Jungkook laughs, “imagine dad’s face when we tell him about this.”
- There isn’t a place they’d both rather be.
- Hoseok and Jungkook don’t like to fly at night when they can avoid it. but they need to when they’re closer to the border- where traveling bands of warriors might have sneaked around the battlelines and sunk into dragon territory. It’s safer to sink into the humans lands under the cover of night and fly up ahead. They’ve flown too close to traveling bands of warriors during the day before and though their arrows had fallen short it was still frightening to fly over a hilltop and be suddenly shot at.
- After accumulating a fresh thrush of books in a rather small library from the southern human lands- They’ll head to the coast for a day or two and stay at Jimin’s and Namjoon’s seaside cottage castle crossing over the mountains just north of the battlefield. It would be shorter to just fly straight home. But they have a few more books than usual this time. And the sea air and updrafts will make the flight north easier on Hoseok.
- Too many times have they overshot their load. only realizing when Hoseok had landed to find his once broken shoulder mottled and strained, unable to fly or even move it in human form for several days after. Staying at Namjoon and Jimin’s cottage always brings back fond memories too, though their favorite fairy and uncle Joonie isn’t there of course still south in the thick of the war.
- They’d run into Jimin a few years back- though they still send regular letters north to stay in contact. Jimin had spotted them in the skies and fluttered in their direction. One minute the only thing they’d been able to see was puffy clouds and the next, Jimin falling out of the sky whooping in joy when they saw them. His wings moving so quickly that they where nearly invisible.
- He’d made camp with them and lingered for as long as he could. It was nice to have someone familiar with them on the road. A face that loves them. And Jimin is perfect at giving them the right amount of affection.
- Since the wars started Jimin has split his time between helping Namjoon at the battlefront and going back and forth to the fairy world in an attempt to negotiate an alliance between them and the dragons. he’s Constantly trying to convince the royal family to come to the dragon’s aid.
- It’s not something jimin likes to consider- but if the humans managed to push through dragon land. They’re no telling how far they’d try to go. and if the dragons side seemed bountiful to human kind- then the fairy world would be something out of heaven.
- But just like the last war the fey are refusing to get involved and Just because they won’t help doesn’t mean Jimin won’t. He’s been Namjoon’s right-hand man in the war, the hidden second general to the dragon army. He’d even convinced a few of his brothers and sisters to join in the battle.
- “How do you actually get to the fairy world? Isn’t it like- on the other side of the ocean? Can you fly that far?” they’re stretched out around a fire, the woods a dark and impenetrable barrier beyond their little hallow of sparks. There isn’t anything that the three of them fear in these woods. though they had heard the single howl of a wolf earlier- lonely and echoic in the tall hills that eventually melt into the eastern mountains.
- Jimin had split his affection equally- running his fingers through Hoseok’s hair and head rested on one thigh and then through Jungkook’s on the other. It’s been a while since they’ve seen each other. Even longer since they’ve been small like Jimin misses. It’s hard to reconcile these gangly twenty-somethings with the tiny dragon and human he used to baby.
- Jimin doesn't like to think of the children now, the ones at the capitol without families (orphaned or displaced by the war) or his own...forgotten hopes. War is not the time to want something so gentle. Not when jimin needs to be strong as much for his mates sake as for the world. Jimin needs to forget his own hopes now more than ever. Even if seeing Jungkook and Hoseok reminds him so much of those times when he’d felt like a parent- as close as he and namjoon had ever gotten to having kids of their own.
- Maybe as close as they ever would get.
- Jungkook and Hobi remember seeing the fey ships at the market. Their hulls like skeletons, made of silver and a strange clear material, not glass- but certainly not any kind of wood. Jimin shakes their head at hoseoks question- the fey world is not on the other side of the ocean. It’s an easy mistake to make. “ I don’t think I could fly there if I wanted to-it's more like stepping through a very cold doorway. You can come there with me one day if you want.”
- “Do you think they’d have anything that-“ “that would turn you immortal?” it goes without saying that Jimin knows why Hoseok asks. Sucks on their lower lip as their eyes turned shadowed with your ghost. God- Hoseok shivers, he hates thinking that you’re dead, hates when everyone acts like you are.
- “Probably not, fey have good memories and there isn’t much of a reason to write things down, but it’s still a beautiful city- makes home look like ruins,” Jimin says the words like he wishes he hadn’t already. Because all of them know how likely it is one day- that the dragon city might one day fall to ruins.
- There is more than one live ghost- that threatens to haunt them.
- Jungkook can’t help but remember that day as they get close to where they’d run into Jimin the first time. It’s been a long day of flying, and they crossed over the majority of the mountains in one good push. As the sun dips close to the horizon coloring the world in orange and gold, Hoseok and Jungkook spot a glittering speckle among the forested hills of the Southern part of dragon territory. A small waterfall that runs clear and strong.
- He leans over, gripping the band around hoseok’s waist with one hand and pointing in it’s direction with the other until he gets Hoseok’s attention and he spots it too, listing to the side and settling into a slow dive. Jungkook hooks his feet into the squishy side of Hoseok’s ribs to make sure he won’t fall off. His thighs protesting from the strain of gripping Hoseok’s back for many hours.
- He remembers when they’d been younger- Hoseok nearly flipping when they’d first flown together. Jungkook eager but still nervous on his back, hugging Hoseok’s neck so so tight. Jungkook remembers when his neck got thicker- and suddenly he couldn’t link his hands around it- how he’d clinged with every other muscle in his body- only airborne for a few minutes until they both plumited towards the ground in a way that made Jungkook’s stomach lurch. Tossed onto the soft grass in a flurry of feathers and dandelions puffing.
- They’d both tumbled, Hoseok shifting mid-roll spitting grass and dandelion fluff. “Stop putting your feet there! I’m ticklish!!” he’d laughed. That was a far cry from how he felt now, Hoseok was used enough to it that it didn’t bother him. Jungkook an extension of himself on his back, tucking close when they flew fast and leaning to help Hoseok make those tight turns easier.
- They’re not far enough away from the battlefront that they can entirely let down their guard. But they’re both tired enough to make the risk unavoidable. They’re Only a spare 50 miles away is where the fighting’s thickest. It’s probably okay, There probably isn’t any danger here. Maybe they shouldn’t light a fire- just in case.
- As Hoseok touches down into the pebbled bank of the waterfall his claws sink into the sand with his and Jungkook’s combined weight, buffering the trees with flaps of his wings. Keeping them tucked in tight so that they don’t hit any stray branches. Jungkook slides off his back- hitting the ground with a lurch, almost falling in his tiredness. Jungkook has always had that floppy puppy way about him when he gets sleepy- every bit of his body a little more limp and sweet than usual (if that’s even possible).
- The water runs clear and cold as Jungkook stoops to fill up their canteens, unlatching their packs from Hoseok’s back with a push of magic. The roaring from the falls nearly blocks out the sounds of Hoseok’s bones shifting. His hair windswept, fangs clicking against the ones on his lower mouth- what he needs to say doesn’t necessitate a full shift. “I’m going to circle overhead and find us a place to make camp okay?”
- It’s too dangerous to camp so close to a water source. They can hardly hear each other over shout over the thunder of the falls- let alone any intruders that might try and sneak upon them in the night. Jungkook makes a small noise in agreement, the hours of flying in silence lingering.
- Hoseok can tell his soul bonded partner is only a few minutes away from needing to sleep- probably even forgetting to eat, which is pretty typical as far as traveling goes. Jungkook will push himself to the brink before he drops, and it’s Hoseok’s job to make sure that doesn’t happen. He’d never say anything to Jungkook but it’s a little scary to see the magic sustain him even farther than Hoseok’s own stamina will take him.The magic will suppress his need to sleep and eat the more he uses his magic.
- When Jungkook stretches in the morning, arms above his head pulling his shirt up to show a few inches of skin, Hoseok takes each and every rib that shows as a reminder. As Hoseok circles overhead, he reminds himself that he has to make Jungkook eat something before he falls asleep.
- Hoseok usually does a good job of keeping Jungkook well taken care of and Jungkook takes care of him in turn. Many a night have they curled up together; Hobi in his feathers and Jungkook rubbing soft soothing motions over the sensitive’s scales of his face, they’re never more than a few feet apart these days.
- They go hours without talking during the day, but the silence never bothers either of them. Who else can you truly be silent with if not your soulmate? Sometimes- Jungkook looks at Hoseok and wonders ‘are you thinking what I’m thinking? Or are your thoughts and feelings just as much a mystery as my own are to me?’
- Is it a soulmate bond? Or just a soul bond? Sometimes, Jungkook isn’t sure- and finds himself questioning that which never should be questioned. he’d never asked Jin if his and Namjoon’s bond had drifted into more romantic territory- sensing there was a story there somehow that maybe the younger one shouldn’t pry into.
- Hoseok takes off, the wind from his wings buffering his clothes; the flowers that grow near the waterfall- red and bright, sway under the weight of their heavy nectar.
- Jungkook breathes in then out, settling himself into wait. It’s easier for Hobi to search while he’s not on his back; it’s a little harder for him to make his tight turns with all of that weight altering his center of gravity. No matter how hard he tries Jungkook doesn’t have the same sense of balance that Hoseok has. He’s been unseated by Hoseok landing in trees more than once.
- When Jungkook remembers enough to check back in with Seokjin, the elder is still very intent on teaching him how to alter that. Jungkook may have mastered a hundred or so spells, but he still doesn’t wield magic in the same easy way that Seokjin does. He hears his uncle’s voice now; ‘Breathe in Jungkook, feel the energy around you, the pulse of that which gives things their life- and you- your powers.’
- And ‘don’t get frustrated- you’ve got all the time in the world to learn magic. You can’t expect to be as good as me with only a few years under your belt... especially given the circumstances.’
- It's hard to find time to practice on the road, So Jungkook takes a second for this, closes his eyes, and reaches out, his mind like a bubble, the edges of it swirling and turning multicolored. He feels the offal energy in those red flowers. Poisonous his magic tells him, stay away- sweet but don’t eat. The water turns and curls and he feels the life of the little fish below in the deepest parts, the way the air moves as it falls with the water, and endless hello between the two.
- He’s so calm, so intent on being peaceful (breathing with the slowly moving things that are immortal like him) that he doesn’t hear the rustle of movement behind him. The sharp eyes that have caught his human scent and found it unwelcome here. The dragon in the woods. They eye the thin sword on the ground, the only one Jungkook still keeps for those just in case moments of misfortune.
- Jungkook hasn’t been a sorcerer long enough to smell like the magic, and this far into dragon territory; it’s no wonder why they consider him a threat. Though most dragons know there is another sorcerer alive by now or have heard of him. Yoongi is a historical figure after all, and their family does have proximity to Namjoon and the dragon council.
- Before they exhausted the dragon realms libraries they’d used that to their advantage often. There are many older dragons that own those old castles, charmed by his and Hoseok’s mere mention of the council. Many had asked how their father was doing.
- Hoseok was usually the one who talked with them and heard their grievances; (too many taxes, too few social programs- the usual), while Jungkook raids their libraries and fills out his little booklet so that he knows which books come from where. He and Hoseok aren’t intending to be thieves so hopefully they’ll be able to return them (Most of those books now sit in a pile in Seokjin’s library, pages unturned for years with no drive to give them back- but it’s the thought that counts right?)
- The dragons that hoard books are the worst ones to deal with- always-eyeing Hoseok like he’s here to steal their trove of musty moldy tombs. As if the golden bands that line his fingers and dot his ears now aren’t enough of an indication of where Hoseok’s proclivities lie.
- Hoseok’s hoarded object will be gold, not unlike his father. Though you’d once called Yoongi a crow- only interested in that which was pretty and shiny. Many a time when they were children, Hoseok had watched their father growl at you playfully and snag you close by your waist, snapping his teeth close to your neck and nuzzling there, “maybe that’s why I’ve kept you.”
- Most dragon folks are much more interested in Hoseok than they are in Jungkook. But the gossip mills and rumors haven’t touched the people here this far out into the countryside. No one knows who- or more importantly what Jungkook is.
- Least of all the dragon in the woods.
- The growl ripples and Jungkook straightens, searching in the cover of trees. The hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He instantly goes on the offensive, the waterfall behind him goes still in the magic as does the softly falling leaves, hovering in the air like baubles- like time has stopped.
- The magic reaches out at the threat with greedy hands, and the shadows part around it, letting in the hazy afternoon goldenness that glints off of sharp claws and even sharper teeth.
- Jungkook is used to dragons more so than he is to humans, but the sight of an aggressive one is still enough to have him nervous. He holds his hand out, showing that he’s unarmed. He sets a foot back- boot sloshing in the water, sending one of their packs tumbling in surprise. “I’m not- I’m not a threat- calm down- I’m no soldier.” his voice shakes.
- He’s never been one to attack first when it comes to dragons But this one stalks forward with Jungkook as it’s prey. Tail raised like its ready to attack. They’re about as old and as large as Hoseok if not a little larger and meatier. Their mouth sparking with bright yellow fire. Eyes angry and unchecked by restraint.
- And still- Jungkook isn’t afraid, and it takes him a moment to realize why, even when he sees the dragon preparing to spit jet of fire in his direction. It’s not that the magic has made him reckless; Jungkook just knows in his heart that nothing can hurt him.
- But if it tries- then the magic might act without Jungkook knowing. The magic will always protect its host and there’s no telling what damage it might do to his opponent. “Please- please don’t do that” why does is own voice sound tired to his ears? “I can’t be held responsible for what happens if you do.” If Jungkook weren’t scared for the dragon’s safety he’d release a tired sigh.
- Nothing is interesting anymore when nothing can hurt you.
- The dragon growls before spitting it’s fire- and Jungkook is just about to hold up his hands to throw the protective bubble around him when Hoseok falls out of the sky. Crashing down in front of him. Wings flaring to stop the fire from crashing into Jungkook. Dealing out a savage kick that sends the other dragon out of the shadows and into the light.
- Jungkook’s breath hitches.
- They’re the same species- or if not the same then similar. Their feathers mix in the fight- Ruddy red yanked out by Hoseok’s claws falling to the ground with Hoseok’s bright crimson coral. Rather spill feathers than spill blood.
- Hoseok doesn’t notice much about the other dragon beyond a particularly strong scent in his nose. When he spotted them overhead he acted without another thought. Air going out from under his wings and fiery anger filling his heart when he saw them. No one flashes their fire at Jungkook without him retaliating.
- He manages to pin the dragon for a moment before they turn, swiping out with their wing. Sending small stones scattering in Jungkook’s direction, One nearly hits his face before the magic hurls it in a different direction. Jungkook flinches regardless.
- For the first time- Jungkook can see the differences between Hoseok and his species. Where Hoseok has dark red feathers on his underbelly they have white golden ones, their secondary feathers are different too- striped with a slightly darker red like blue jays would be striped blue-black. Comparatively- Hoseok is more colorful but less ornate.
- Where Hoseok’s horns go in theirs point out, the other dragon tries to bash their head into Hoseok’s sideways. Hoseok flips them over with a push of his tail. Their wings tangle, flap against the ground in a thwack that leaves the poison flowers crumpled, but then Hoseok get his jaws around the other dragon's neck and the fight is as good as over.
- His growl ripples out along the forest floor making the leaves shake. He doesn’t mean to really hurt them but as the other dragon moves against his jaw and a little bit of blood splatters. A shallow cut on their neck. The dragon continuing to thrash even with Hoseok’s jaws around their throat until they yield. It's obvious that Hoseok is the only one out of the two of them that’s been trained to fight, those sparring sessions with their father and his schooling at the academy paying off.
- The dragon shifts below Hoseok. Red feathers melt away into red-brown hair. the girl that shifts below Hoseok is so much smaller and vulnerable compared to her dragon form. “You’re one of us! Sorry- just got startled by the human!” she’s not scared of having Hoseok’s teeth so close to her, still bent over her with his mouth parted, nearly as wide as she is tall. She pushes his snout away with one hand and Hoseok- blinking perplexed- lets her. She looks like the kind of woman that isn’t easily scared of anything.
- Her clothes are grubby and worn from weeks on the road, her skirt thick and woolen pulled over her legs. She’s doing a good job of concealing how scared she is but Jungkook sees her fear in the slight tremble of her shoulders as Hoseok stays shifted between her and Jungkook as if he doesn’t believe that she won't be a threat anymore. Hoseok’s tail flicks agitated, splashing into the water.
- Jungkook sees another flash of movement at the edge of his vision, brings up his hand in defense as he turns. But the smaller heads in the woods just look curious and frightened. Two other small dragons, a small one sandy with fluffy feathers, a hatchling whereas the other is shifted. Her horns are a deep bronze. They nearly get caught in the underbrush as she cocks her head like a bird.
- “He’s a city thing.” she comments at the smaller dragon, which sniffles and snorts around her waist. He curls around the shifted one with his head hidden behind their back. Shy- Just like Hobi was when he was younger.
- They’re others of his kind, the same species. Jungkook knew they had to exist but he doesn’t know why he’s so shocked.
- Hoseok finally shifts, obviously furious, a head taller than the woman and instantly combative. Her blood a harsh brand at his mouth, red and dripping around his chin. “Don’t you have a little more sense to wait and see if he was doing anything harmful? God-” freaking savages Hoseok curses internally- but then immediately berates himself for that choice of language.
- That kind of rhetoric was the words that dragons from the capital often used to refer to the dragons that wanted to exist out here where they were naturally more comfortable. Unburdened by the comforts and expectations of polite society. The girl tosses her long dark hair, matching his energy with her hands on her hips, “well he should know better than to come into dragon land unaccompanied-“
- “He wasn’t unaccompanied- he has me, I scent marked him this morning, and if you stopped to use your senses instead of just going fire first and thought second- You’d have realized he’s spoken for.” Jungkook remembers the scenting and barely suppresses a flush.
- Hoseok had extensively rubbed his chin all over Jungkook’s chest this morning. They’d been curled up in the dewdrops, staying cozy until the absolute last moment they had to leave the small clearing where they’d made camp, a hanging valley in the mountains. Secluded, safe, and quiet.
- It makes Jungkook shy to think everyone can smell that on him- that they’d been so close. and in the next second he’s questioning his own shyness- what was there to be shy about? Hoseok is his soul-bonded partner so it’s only natural…right?
- The girl sniffs the air, crossing her arms. The shallow gash under her jaw is already healing. Really- it wasn’t more than a scratch, and Hoseok won't feel guilty for that- not when it was her who tried to move when she obviously should have yielded the fight to him. “You’re right- he does smell like you” the way she says this- like she thinks it’s a bad thing but that’s rich when she stinks like something heavy and heady. A sweet scent that’s so strong it hurts Hoseok’s nose. No one else has ever smelled this way to him before.
- Another older dragon dashes through the forest, accompanied by a third- both of them are male and at least as old as Jungkook and Hobi. Hoseok steps a little more firmly in front of Jungkook. Hiding him from view.
- “What’s going on? We heard a roar?” the smaller one asks, though the larger of the two turns to the female dragon his eyes only for her. His thumb running against her blood-soaked throat, checking to make sure she’s not hurt. The second he verifies she’s not hurt he turns his attention to Hoseok, putting himself in front of her the same way Hobi had stepped in front of Jungkook. He even steps up- about to shove Hoseok but she catches him around the waist. Stopping him from hurting Hoseok.
- Jungkook takes a second to size the three of them up- he and hoseok could definitely take them in a fight, he shakes off his trepidation and steps up too- holding the glare of the smaller of the two men.
- More of that smell fills Hoseok’s nose and he wants to choke on it, or gag. Hoseok scoffs, arms rippling in his shirt. (Jungkook’s brain sure chooses the weirdest things to fixate on, but when did Hoseok gain so much muscle?) Jungkook reaches out to tug on Hoseok’s sleeve, “Hobi- it’s okay, let's just go,” Hoseok’s eyes lose their anger the second he looks back at Jungkook, hot fire melting to burning coals.
- Jungkook doesn’t like to be hated by dragons, even if he’s used to it by now and grew up with it. Hoseok’s priorities shift in a second; to getting Jungkook away and where they can be alone and safe unthreatened in their little bubble. He’d rather make sure Jungkook was safe and comfortable than devote any more energy to these people. “It doesn’t matter Hobi.”
- The woman that Hoseok’s fought goes white as a sheet, her knees going weak in a second. “What did you just say?” the beefier male dragon steps forward and Hoseok barely manages the impulse to cover his nose. The other one sends a nervous glance at the two of them, then back at the kids.
- A knowing look shared between all of them, and Jungkook is hit with the realization that something is about to change. And in the same second, it happens before Jungkook can tell what it is and protect Hoseok from it. The woman pushes the beefy man to the side, stepping up to Hoseok.
- “Did you just say Hobi? What’s your name?” the woman is still staring at Hoseok open-mouthed, and all at once- Jungkook sees it. The same way their hair falls, their face shape, their similar small noses, and their eyes. The kind of familiarity that only genetics can cause.
- “My name is Hoseok,” Hobi says, and she rushes forward, tears spilling over her cheeks, Hoseok flinches back from her hands, “I thought you were dead- I thought you were gone- Hoba- I’m so sorry- I-”
- Now it's Jungkook’s turn to put himself in-between her and Hobi. Catching her wrists in both of his. though the larger dragon’s nostrils flare at her being touched- he’s gentle when he takes her form Jungkook’s hold a second before her legs give out and she devolves into sobs. Holding her protectively against his chest as she cries, staring at Hoseok like she’s seeing a ghost.
- Hoseok looks stricken for a moment before it hits him “Dawon- my sister's name was Dawon. Is that you?” she nods, eyes still shining as she drinks in Hoseok, wiping the tears away so she can see him more. The other smaller male dragon grimaces- looking about as uncomfortable as jungkook feels.
- “You have a sister” Jungkook breathes, a weird feeling of betrayal welling up in him. “You didn’t tell me.” Hoseok is scared- that’s the only emotion Jungkook can pin down when he turns, his hand closing around Jungkook’s shoulder, “I didn’t know- I always assumed she’d died. And I haven’t-“
- Jungkook sees something settle between Hoseok’s shoulders, the tension dissipating “I barely remember you. I’m sorry.” And he really is, her sadness doesn't well in him a protective urge- he feels nothing at all but discomfort as he watches a stranger cry over him. He wishes he remembered her like she remembers him.
- “If it helps,” the dragon holding dawon says, “she thought you were dead too” he holds out his hand, “I’m Jinseok and this is my brother Felix, what’s your name human?”
- The little ones seem to be the perfect distraction- the midsized one shifting- while the hatchling bounds forward in their direction. Felix is finally knocked out of his reverie to try and snag them by their feathers but missing at the last moment. They flutter around Jungkook’s and Hoseok’s feet- curious at the newcomers. It gives dawon the opportunity to wipe her eyes.
- The larger one of them barely braves enough to sniff at Jungkook's hand, recoiling when he smells the magic sparking at his nose. Shifting with a pop. Her hair is red-tipped like Dawon’s, but black at the roots. “You smell funny,” she says before she pops back into her dragon form The smaller hatchling brushes up against Hoseok’s legs as a cat would weaving between his ankles.
- Though he doesn’t say it aggressively, Jungkook still feels his annoyance prick at this and at the whole meeting. “i’m Not human- but my name’s Jungkook, I’m Hoseok’s brother,” the small one shifts back and forth with a crack, “how can you be his brother if you’re not a dragon?”
- “Areum!” Felix scolds. trying to grab at her again as she shifts and darts away. “It’s okay- we- we can talk about it,” Hoseok says, Hand smoothing over the head of the smaller one, the hatchling presses up into Hoseok’s hand.
- As Dawon gets her feet underneath her the other dragon- Jinseok- who hoseok gathers is her mate judging from the way he’s been trying to comfort her steadies her with a hand on her elbow. He’s significantly meatier than felix- who like Hoseok is lithe and delicate by comparison.
- And Jungkook knows without being able to smell him that maybe- this means he’s an alpha. Not all dragons split themselves up into designations of alpha, beta, and omega. When they were younger Jungkook pored over every book they could come by about dragons to learn about Hoseok’s type.
- “Why are you even reading about me- you know you can just ask Namjoon right?” Hoseok had teased in the old library of their manor house, a book from jimin’s library on the study table. “Cuz I wanna know everything about you- don’t you want to know too? Which one you are?”
- “Not really- it doesn’t matter to me” and maybe back then it didn’t. Neither Namjoon or Yoongi were the kind of dragon that split into designations and neither could tell. Jungkook wonders if that’s still true. If Hoseok still doesn’t know- it’s been so long and Jungkook’s never asked, he wonders if the others can tell.
- “Come this way- we’ve already set up camp and you both should join us,” the smaller one shifts finally, hair fluffy and red-blond just like their feathers, tugging on Dawon’s skirt. He’s a soft sweet thing, barely more than a toddler. “why is it all like that unnie?” pointing behind Jungkook and Hoseok.
- They all turn, and Jungkook isn’t at all surprised to see the waterfall still frozen in time, no sound of it tumbling, still the same way it was when Dawon first attacked. The other small dragon tries to touch the water's edge and finds it impenetrable. Like it’s glass.
- Jungkook leans down and runs his hand through it letting it ripple slowly- much to the excitement of the youngsters who stand on the surface. Pouncing and trying to break it. Neither of them can break through the surface like Jungkook. “Kookie,” Hoseok asks, “sorry- that’s my fault.” He holds up his hands and with a flash the water unfreezes and resumes its rushing and roaring. The older child falls ankle-deep into the water, squawking and splashing back to the shore- Shaking her feathers out.
- The dragons go white, Felix mutters a low curse. “We’d heard about another sorcerer- but we didn’t think” Jungkook rubs his hands on his thighs, picking up his pack, suddenly shy. Still Hoseok and Dawon stare at each other- this time not trying to get close.
- Jungkook sighs, the heaviness in his chest aching. “You said you had camp set up already?”
- Hours later after the fires been stoked and the foods been made and the sun has set, Jungkook tries not to let the food in his mouth taste like ash. Rolling it against his tongue, the meat-rich with spices as he watches Hoseok and Dawon from across the fire. Ignoring the clamor of Felix wrestling the hatchlings into a makeshift nest.
- at one point tonight Hoseok had mistakenly referred to the two hatchlings as his sister’s children and she’d laughed, her mate blushing and melting underneath her playful look. They’re not her kids, but that they’re all orphans from one of the last attacks at the border before the war began. In much the same boat as Dawon was when their nest was destroyed. The group of three are on their way north to drop the youngsters off in the capital before they head back to the battlefront.
- the two children seem terribly attached to the group of three- Hoseok comments on this. Felix looks down at the small one- the little boy curled up in his lap, cheek pillowed against Felix’s thigh. His voice hushed and pained “We want to fight. Even if it means we have to leave them, we can’t take care of them like they need to be taken care of.”
- Jungkook doesn’t say that you were younger than he was when you first started taking care of him and Hobi. But things are significantly faster passed for humans. And maybe parenthood has more to do with personality and attitude than age. If Jungkook had to judge it- he’d say that out of this group- Felix seems the fondest of the hatchlings.
- Jungkook doesn’t intrude much onto their conversation. For the most part he just sits across the fire with his empty bowl and listens. Nursing his skein of wine that they’ve so graciously gifted him and Hoseok. Marveling at the refilling spell that jungkook shows them half way through the night when it begins to run dry.
They don’t notice the difference- but to Jungkook the wine tastes flat and bitter the magic stealing away the joy of its taste. There are some things that the magic just can't recreate and maybe jungkook’s just sensitive to that.
- But it does enough to liberate his anxiety regardless; Jungkook’s head is spinning as he watches the dragons, feeling apart from them on the other side of the fire. The two youngsters sleep on soft packs a little bit away, packs piled up to keep the light of the fire out of their eyes.
- “How did you- how did you survive? Did you run away?” (The memories that Jungkook’s seen flicker back across his eyes, a tiny Hoseok sitting in a treehouse nest, hiding until his mother came. “Stay here- your sister will be back in a moment” and then Hoseok leaving, heading out into the fray of the battle. So small and so so brave.)
- Jungkook tightens his lips. Hoseok knows what he saw that day when he became a sorcerer and they don’t have many secrets between the two of them. But this feels too private for Jungkook to pipe up. The fact that he might be the only one of the three of them that has a clear picture of what happened that day lingers on his mind.
- Jungkook wonders, and has asked Seokjin about how, and why- the magic showed him what it did. ‘I think it probably wanted you to understand, wanted you to know what had happened and how it did. Every sorcerer has a different specialty, maybe yours is time.’
- “I almost didn’t, I went out to fight but our parents were already-“ Hoseok cuts himself off. Everyone knows what happened and he doesn’t need to say it in any detail. “I went back for you- but you weren’t there- and the others were leaving.“ she doesn’t need to say anymore. Takes a swig of her wineskin too, the words rolling off her tongue better with the alcohol lubricating them. “Two other hatchlings got killed because I went back to look for you.”
- Hoseok doesn’t have anything to say about that. He’d been as good as dead, and she must have been about 11 when the attack happened. Hoseok would tell her that he forgives her but really there’s nothing to forgive. “What have you been doing since then, where did you end up?” Hoseok needs to ask- needs to know. What could have been his life if Yoongi had never found him?
- It says something that this woman in front of him left him for dead, while their father didn’t. Now that her scent buffs over him from the hot wind he thinks he recognizes it. In the first few weeks he’d been with you he remembers missing her scent. Longing to curl up around it and the rest of his nest.
- Hoseok remembers smelling Jungkook His snout pressed to Jungkook’s black curls trying to recreate the same smell. It smells kind of like family- but not really. Jungkook would never smell the same way she did- and that was a good thing. Hoseok subtly leans away so that more of it doesn’t get in his nose. Craving Jungkook’s clean sweet scent across the fire.
- “I ended up getting adopted by their rookery” she gestures to both of the boys Felix leans back on his hand's feet playing with the soil while he gazes at her fondly. Felix is the only one of them who doesn’t have horns, instead- his dragon mark manifests itself in his clawed feet.
- That’s how I would look at her if we’d grown up together Hoseok thinks. It’s clear they’re close though he can already tell her bond with the alpha runs deeper than her bond with him. “Their parents died three years ago in one of the first battles, we were sent north to the city and the academy before we were approved by the council to head south when we found them.”
- “Hoseok studied at the academy too” jungkook supplies quiet, no one but hoseok acknowledges he spoke.
- In their little nest, the two hatchlings breathe on, “we were trying to make it to the battlefront to finally fight but now that we’ve got them- we’re on our way back to the city.” Hoseok sees the way that Jinseok touches her hand, soft and cradling. It’s strange to Hoseok, who doesn’t often pick up on the scents of other dragons that those of his own kind smell so strong.
- Dawon smells sweet and cloying, like a baked cake or like an overly ripe fruit. Nearly spoiled. Whereas Jinseok smells like incense and burning oranges (a smell that Hoseok finds it hard to like to be honest), and Felix smells like the edge of winter and fall, clear air, fresh in a way. Other dragon’s scents have never been so pungent to him- even his own. if they smell so bad he wonders what he must smell like.
- “How did you…” Hoseok’s eyes hover on the tender way they hold each other hand, Jinseok brushes over the scent gland on the inside of Dawson’s wrist something so intimate and gentle. He can see the way she viscerally shivers. “You’re both mated right?” he asks, wants to know, both of them blush but nod eagerly.
- Felix leans back further. “I told them to wait until after the war but-“ he lifts his shoulders, “when you know you know.” Dawon smiles brightly in his direction, knocking her forehead with Jinseok. “You’re not-” Dawon sends a glance in Jungkook’s direction as if shaking her head at the very thought. Jungkook bristles (and so does Hoseok) but as if sensing some sort of possible conflict, Felix pipes up. “It makes sense that you’re not since you're like me, we don’t often mate.”
- Confusion replaces the tension as everyone turns to Felix, Hoseok’s eyebrows furrow. Something’s not lining up “what do you mean?” Jungkook asks. Hoseok is wide-eyed “how am I like you?” Felix- seeming to realize that he’s overstepped or supplied information that he shouldn’t have, has the good sense to look a little bashful. “You didn’t know? You’re a beta-”
- Hoseok and jungkook share a startled glance, hoseok's hands shake a little- he tries to hide it- but Jungkook notices (Jungkook always notices). Hoseok had never thought it mattered- but now it feels like it does. the way that felix says it- like it’s something to be happy about. “You didn’t know? ah- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to”
- “It’s alright it's just-” Hoseok looks down his hands tightening into fists, a small smile pricking at the corner of his mouth. “I’m a beta?” Jungkook can’t help but feel like he’s slipping even further away his breath hitching. Felix relocates to Hoseok’s side, taking his shaking hand in one of his “yes, you’re a beta- like me. there aren’t many of us left- even fewer now, but you’re a beta Hoseok.”
- Jungkook can’t stop himself, physically can’t keep himself in his seat at the sight of Hoseok and the other beta sitting so close on the tree stump. The way his sister seems so close on the other side in Jungkook’s spot. Felix touches Hoseok’s neck- the spot where Jungkook knows his scent gland is even if he can’t smell Hoseok the way the dragons do. explaining to hoseok what he smells like- It makes Jungkook’s blood boil with an acrid something that feels like wanting and shame at being so impossibly jealous.
- So he gets up and walks to the edge of the makeshift camp trampling someone’s feathers as he goes. Hoseok starts after him and the alpha makes an unhappy grunt at Hoseok leaving. Almost reaching out.
- Logically Jungkook knows Jinseok is his sister’s mate- so of course, he’d be worried about her younger brother leaving- especially if it hurt the feelings of Dawon. But Jungkook can’t help but hate that they’re already trying to stake a claim over Hoseok. Typical alpha behavior already trying to exert his will over someone he barely knows.
- Jungkook doesn’t know if Hoseok had felt his displeasure down the threads of their bond, but he calls Jungkook’s name again as he stalks into the woods. Jungkook ignores it, stomping carefully through a grove of ankle-high toadstools that glow a faint pink. They’re enough like to see by, and they illuminate the forest in great swathes. A fairy lifts its head from the surface as he jostles one, hissing in Jungkook’s direction as he disturbs their sleep.
- “Kookie slowdown- just STOP” Hoseok has never shouted at Jungkook and sounded like that. Jungkook’s so surprised he stops in his tracks. He steps on a toadstool and it winks out- the rosy glow beneath them diminishing. A flurry of sprites are startled from their hallow by hoseok's shout, the cloud moving sleepily away from the clearing, wings whistling in the quiet. When he turns around, Hoseok’s stricken expression is lit from below, his lower lip glossy from the wine.
- One of the things about their bond is that Hoseok doesn’t have to wonder if Jungkook is upset. He can feel it echoing hot into his own body, jealousy and anger and deep underneath- fear. Fear that Hoseok had found something he’d been looking for that Jungkook couldn’t offer.
- Jungkook can’t get the happy expression out of his head- the way Hoseok had looked when they’d told him. “I’m a beta” the smile like an answer he’d been searching for but hadn’t found. Jungkook couldn’t fit into that system- couldn’t be an alpha or a beta or omega. He could just be Jungkook.
- And For the first time, being only that doesn’t feel like enough for Hoseok. Hoseok had never cared that Jungkook was a dragon or human but now it feels like it matters.
- “Do you- are you going to stay with them Hoseok?” Jungkook’s voice doesn’t sound like his own. Hoseok recoils at the mere suggestion of it like he’s just been slapped “what?! Of course not- we’re going to leave in the morning? And then they’ll head south. Dawon and I have already talked about it while you were getting firewood.” Hoseok reaches out to grab Jungkook’s wrist but Jungkook takes a step back- out of Hoseok's reach.
- “It didn’t look like you had any intention of leaving just then” Hoseok steps forward into Jungkook’s space. Between them, personal space rarely exists, but now, Jungkook feels like he he needs some. Jungkook never thought their bond might hurt- but now he’s worried it is.
- “You don’t need to be scared Kookie,” Hoseok says because he can feel his fear, “I don’t want you to feel scared.” one of the terrible things about their bond is that Hoseok can feel everything every emotion. Good and bad, secret and shared all wound in an anxious ball that only Hoseok can tease through.
- “Maybe it would help- if I knew what you were thinking” because thoughts and feelings aren’t the same things. hoseok knows jungkook is feeling this way- but can’t understand why more than a good guess.
- Jungkook sits on the edge of a stump, a fallen tree, and beside him, Hoseok stoops to sit too. Careful to rearrange their feet so that they don’t hurt any of the toadstools, through the underbrush they glimmer and bloom more brilliant than flowers.
- They remind Jungkook of the flowers that grow in aunty Jimin and uncle Namjoon’s house. Jungkook doesn’t watch them, leaning his head on Hoseok’s shoulder, looking up at him from his perch. After a second, Hoseok pulls him closer, pacifying him with the contact.
- Hoseok starts slow. “You know im different.” it seems silly to say- to voice this when jungkook can feel the otherness in his bones. “that I feel like I’ve always been in-between kind of in the same way that Jimin’s been in-between.” jungkook’s egear nodds encourage Hoseok on to talk more.
- “I’ve never been worried about it because I knew- I know whatever it is- that I feel loved- I know you love me.” Jungkook’s heart feels like it’s going to shake in his chest, lit from below. Hoseok reaches out, touches his cheek in just the right way that Jungkook knows it’s not- not that sort of love. The thing that’s built itself into something formidable in his chest.
- A love that is neither purely platonic nor brotherly or romantic- something different and new and definitely not sexual but still love. Hoseok is apart of Jungkook’s soul in a way that nothing else could be. There is no space left in his heart. Nothing left for anyone else. All of Jungkook belongs to this and their bond.
- Briefly, he wonders if maybe all this confusion is just Jungkook’s magical body getting re-used to the bond. Jis magical body can feel it so much more than his human body ever could.
- “I know” Jungkook feels breathless- but the whole in-between thing, he knew that too. For years Jungkook Has watched Hoseok battle with his hair enough times to know that the frustration was deeper than any superficial change. Jungkook has seen the looks- the longing when he sees something pretty and golden.
- When they were younger, Hoseok jokingly put on one of your corsets, almost too big for him. You’d loved it- thought it was just the cutest thing and hadn’t made him take it off until bedtime. “I promise you don’t want to sleep with it on Hoseok.”
- “This- all of them- Dawon” Hoseok takes Jungkook’s hand- more of a routine then any motion- and unlike before Jungkook lets him. “that just feels like a reason for all of that- that discomfort. If i’m a beta- then it all makes sense you know? but still I-”
- Hoseok steals himself to say the next words sighing them out “-I don’t think I could love anyone the way that mom loves dad you know” Jungkook thinks those words should hurt. But they don’t. He’s been thinking about the pain recently. How their father is their mother’s constant shadow, a ghost that cannot sleep, a love that haunts more than it loves.
- No question. Yoongi would tear apart himself for you if given the chance. But Hoseok- Hoseok doesn’t know if he’s ever felt something like that with such intensity. Sure he’d fight to the death for Jungkook and fight even harder if something was to separate them. But was that foundation built on the same kind of love? Could more love even fit in the space of his heart- with so much Jungkook already filling it up? Could this love change when it has no room to grow?
- It would be easier if they were bloodily related, jungkook realizes- then there would be no question. But the fact of the matter is that any romantic relationships that they might have with other people would feel like too much of a betrayal on both sides.
- Hoseok and Jungkook cannot love each other the way Yoongi loves you. and yet- Jungkook doesn’t want that with anyone else. Can’t even think about loving someone who isn’t Hoseok. Jungkook holds Hoseok’s hand to his face for one moment, then lets it go- lets the idea of this fall away, “I’m sorry for getting angry- let's go back”
- When they go back Hoseok sits next to Jungkook on the log. The others give them both a measured look- like theyre trying to find any remaining discord between their bond, leaning back satisfied when they find none.
- Jungkook doesn't need to know what they talked about while they were gone. Especially when hoseok immediately launches into another conversation with dawon- talking through their childhoods- and the parents that they’d both eventually found. “I think you’d really like my mom, she’s like a healer- a good one too” Hoseok can’t help but boast. “Healed my shoulder after-“ he trails off but tilts to show her how he can roll it.
- Jinseok comes over and inspects Hoseok’s shoulder, tilting it between his big hands and unlike before- it doesn’t make Jungkook jealous, (but that might have something to do with Hoseok’s hand on his thigh). Jinseok’s eyes are appraising when he lets it go “of course you healed! I’ve taken a few tumbles myself over the last few years. Almost thought my tail was gonna fall off that one time.” Felix laughs and Dawon rolls her eyes at it. “Yes we’re all aware of your stupidity that one time when-”
- “You’ll always be my person Kookie- I don’t need anyone else. I don’t want anyone else” Hoseok tells him when they’re pressed close underneath their bed things, set out underneath the stars. They’re both Significantly more full of wine than they’d been before and Hoseok’s words are nearly slurry.
- “I think…I think I might be a little broken.” Hoseok’s says like the words are a secret, eyes fluttering with tiredness. Jungkook presses closer in reply like Jungkook is making up for pieces Hoseok might be missing. He presses his forehead to Hoseok’s. Hoseok smells like home- Hoseok will always be home to Jungkook.
- “If you’re broken, I’m broken too” Jungkook’s words are cushioned against the skin of Hoseok’s shoulder. That night, Hoseok lies on his back and Jungkook slings a leg over his thighs. they revel in the closeness, loving every moment.
- Jungkook is already asleep- but Hoseok speaks anyway. “I don’t need anything else but you Kookie.”
- The next morning the two groups part ways. Dawon hugs Hoseok so tight that Jungkook feels his own spine ache a little. Hoseok must have explained to her last night about their goal of saving you. she seems like she understands why they need to leave. But Even so, she’s a little teary-eyed, reluctant to let him go. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Hoseok nods, his red curls bouncing, not a hit of hesitation.
- Hoseok hands her a little scroll. If they do make it to the Southern front where Namjoon is, the scroll will make sure that she and her flock are well taken care of by their uncles. Hoseok thinks that Jimin and Namjoon would like his older sister. That she’ll fit in well with the army.
- It isn’t until a few days later when they’re staying at uncle Namjoon and Jimin’s house that Jungkook and Hoseok have a chance to talk about any of it again. Jungkook could feel the flickers of uncertainty down their bond, judging that Hoseok needed to parse through his feeling and figure out what he needed to say.
- They only stay for the night, happy to have a familiar bed instead of curling up under the stars before they fly north. The house is empty besides them, though a housekeeper still comes by every day to water Jimin’s plants and make sure too much dust doesn’t settle.
- They ready for a long day of flying in one of the many guest rooms. Jungkook is just leaning down to tie his boots when he catches Hoseok looking at himself in the mirror. Running a brush through his curls. Hoseok thinks back through his memories of this house- and of the fairy and dragon that should be here with them. And particularly- words that Jimin said to Hoseok long ago when he’d asked about Himin’s gender.
- Hoseok can’t remember how old he was- but he remembers the fairy bending down to his level in the garden. “To tell you the truth, being a girl or a boy doesn’t matter much in our part of the world. What matters is that you’re good to the people who need you and kind to the people that don’t when you meet,”
- Its that memory that gives Hoseok the strength to finally meet Jungkook’s gaze in the mirror. “I think…I want to grow out my hair.”
-“Like aunt Jiminie?” Jungkook asks, standing and moving to stand behind him, Jungkook’s hands play in the small hairs at the back of Hoseok’s neck, and he leans forward to sniff, Hoseok already smells like the ocean. “Yeah” Hoseok looks worried- like it might not have Jungkook’s approval. the set of his shoulders tense like he’s readying jungkook to say something negative. But there isn’t a change he could make that would put Jungkook’s love and devotion in jeopardy. hoseok knows that but the worry still lingers.
- Jungkook tangles a hand in Hoseok’s hair, his reflection grinning back at Hoseok- Boyish and beautiful in a way that makes hoseok ache. “We’ll grow it out together” and they do, flying back and forth across the world. When Jungkook cuts his- Hoseok doesn’t. All until it’s down to his shoulders. The first time Yoongi sees he doesn’t even mention it- not even a little bit- too busy preening and what can only be called nesting.
- It’s something he’s started to do over the years to relieve his stress, piling up every single soft thing in the room around where your glass coffin is. No doubt preparing for you’re waking in a few days. A healthy flush in his cheeks that hadn’t been there last time they’d been home.
- Seokjin doesn’t say anything, but he does tug on the end of Hoseok’s hair, twining the long red strand around his fingers. He doesn’t say anything like he might have before, sensing Hoseok’s tenseness. He leaves a few spells tacked to his and Jungkook’s door spells for hair lengthening and to change the color should Hoseok desire it.
- Yoongi is so happy to have them home he doesn’t even notice anything’s different until the day Hoseok gets into your makeup collection. It’s only for them, just a tiny bit of rouge on his cheeks and to plump up his lips. Yoongi puts down his book when Hoseok walks in, eyes tracking him as he walks in. and Hoseok feels the worry sink underneath their skin before Seokjin taps Yoongi with his book, and they both go back to reading.
- But when Hoseok goes to his room later he finds a tiny pile of cosmetics on his bedside table. A delicate sea green brocade shirt that’s flowy- all but the sleeves opaque and embroidered with tiny flowers. It looks like something jimin would wear and Hoseok touches it with a reference he doesn’t quite know how to handle. A fondness growing in his heart.
- The next time they leave, Yoongi corners him, while not corners him- but sidles up to him while he’s on the back patio when the sun is just cresting over the trees just past sunrise. Hoseok might be an early riser but Seokjin and Jungkook still need a little while to sleep. “So, should I call you she now? Is that better for you?”
- Trust yoongi to go straight to the point. He’s so awkward, so cagey and quiet. So obviously wanting to offer comfort and understanding but unsure how to reach out. He’s used to using the rolling pronouns with jimin, but to use them for his son- his child- will take a second. It’s better to ask than wonder.
- “No, not yet- if ever.” and then in the quiet of the morning, a simple truth, “they is fine for me dad.”
- “When did you know?” Yoongi has to wonder, had you and him not being open enough? You’d both never talked to Jungkook and Hoseok about jimin, but you’d both believed you’d raised your children to come to you when they had a question or a concern. And Yoongi doesn’t like the idea that Hoseok could have been holding onto these feelings for some time. too afraid to be honest.
- Hoseok doesn’t answer right away, because there isn’t a good one. Was it the way he’d never played with strictly the girls or boys in grade school? The way he’d often found himself clinging to you and wanting to dress in your pretty fabrics than the drab black clothes his father favored?
- it was hard to tell what if anything had made Hoseok first question their gender. Did his betaness cause it? Or was the difference caused by not settling purely into one side? “I met my sister.” is all he can say, the only bit of information it makes sense to proffer up.
- That- out of everything they might have said does get a reaction out of Yoongi. his hands tightening on the edge of the stone wall. “I didn’t know she was still alive.”
- “Neither did I” Hoseok busies their hands with playing with the flowers that have gathered along the rock wall, small and pink. The ever spring around them so delicate and careful. The exact way that Hoseok feels today. “She told me I’m a beta, and after that- it all kind of makes sense?”
- Yoongi makes a noise in the back of his throat. Then suddenly, turns his golden eyes on his…child. (That train of thought will take some time getting used to) “Well if there’s anything I can be doing better- let me know okay?” he pulses Hoseok in for a quick scent mark, and the sudden affection nudges a purr from Hoseok’s throat. But overall the conversation just leaves them feeling soft and taken care of, understood and accepted in a way Hoseok had never realized they’d craved.
- By the time they leave, Yoongi is pushing a small velvet sack of coins in their directions. “You should get a few things that fit you better the next time you're in the city.”
- And they do, Hoseok and Jungkook work their way through the cloth market with a vigor they haven’t found in years, fine silks and velvets- perfect for the cold weather up north. Most in rich tones of gold, purple and red- red is Hoseok’s favorite color. Hoseok gets their ears pierced on a whim- fills his studs with little bits of gold that make them glow when they catch sight of themselves in a mirror.
- And when they come back after a day of shopping. It's Jungkook who pulls him close. Running a finger over the corner of their mouth to correct the placement of their lipstick. A fresh tube. Sometimes Hoseok doesn’t bother putting it on, or with the more cumbersome pretty clothes, but if they’re going to see anyone, even if that someone is just Jungkook- the red lip color stays.
- When you wake a few months later; you cup Hoseok’s cheek- hands still a little shaky and reluctant to move. “You look-” you search Hoseok’s eyes for something- anything that would show misgivings, “it looks so pretty Hobi” Hoseok plays with their fingers in their lap. It’s a cute behavior, one that Jungkook’s noticed appears more as time goes on and hoseok gets more comfortable with changing their body.
- “Don’t you mean handsome?” they say, swallowing back a lump in their throat. Their long hair is pulled back today, to give the same appearance of masculinity at least from the front. Jungkook braided it this morning, he’s been learning how to do it for hoseok- not quiet as nimble with their fingers yet like Jungkook is. The moments in the morning when Jungkook brushes their hair and winds it back- are some of his favorites- the soft moments he can spend with hoseok. Hoseok didn’t want to scare you too bad, from the front- they almost look the same. “Not if you don’t want me to mean it. You can be pretty too.”
-It’s not until the next time Hoseok and Jungkook set out that they actually quantify it in words. “I think I’m like Jimin- well not- like jimin. But I think I could be.” aunty and uncle Jimin, who’s just as comfortable in a skirt as they are in a pair of pants. Jungkook leans over, combing through Hoseok’s long hair. Reaching down to the sensitive spot between his- their shoulders. “Okay” is all he says, but his smile is sweet even in the light. “That’s okay with me Hobi.”
- And it is- it always will be, as long as Hoseok has people like this, the ones that have always made him feel like it was safe to be himself- no matter what form he wants to take. Hoseok will be okay. At night, their arms tighten around Jungkook. “I want you to be okay too Kookie” Jungkook sleeps on, oblivious to the turmoil-taking root in Hoseok’s heart.
- Yes, he loves Jungkook, but can Hoseok really love in the way that Jungkook needs? Are they just keeping each other from happiness or is this the only thing they’ll ever need?
- In his arms Jungkook dreams fitfully. But down to his core, he knows If there was ever a time when he felt like he needed more from Hoseok- if what they have ever felt like not enough, He’d never do anything about it. Never ask for more. Never. They don’t need anyone else- no lover, friends, or mates. Just each other. Their bond will always be enough.
- The days spent waiting pass like sluggish honey for Yoongi, sweet when they meet the tip of his tongue but only a hint of the sweet eternity he promises you. They blend together for you- more than the dizzying cacophony of dreams. Sometimes you forget where you belong, and forget that you have to wake up.
- When you can- you strong arm and squirm your way into wherever he is, curled up around you and set a hand on his scaly cheek, there is a limit to how far you can go from your body, and that seems to be a fair mile from where you sleep. So if you wake when Yoongi flies, it’s enough to be able to sit in the garden and enjoy the flowers and sunlight. Every time you manage to knock yourself out of a dream, you can go a little bit farther. Like your soul is getting used to how it feels outside your body.
- And when you do actually stay in the dream world- lucid dreaming becomes an avid habit of yours. Taehyung teaches you how to do it. As dangerous as it is lovely to feel real things when you can, you do often get lost in the way you can change the world you’re in. Are you a god? Or just a dreamer? Taehyung’s hand in yours keeps you tethered. You wonder how he managed to keep his sanity living alone like this for so many years. In the dream world- days are years and years are eons.
- And what makes it worse is that you know it won't feel like so long when you wake- the sluggish feeling that not so much time could have passed even though you know it has. The spell around you keeps you dreaming like it's been days, while your body lives those hours as a second. Your mind and your body age out of sync.
- Yoongi’s timed it before, every hour he sees your chest rise and fall. One breath for every hour
- You feel like you’ve spent years in the dreams at this point, recreating each of your wildest fantasies. Though some feel too real not to be born of your memories. You dream of The walls of your cavern home that you haven’t gone back to in years, feeling the cold stone with a warm body behind you- Yoongi. Or hours spent just outside the front doorsteps of your manor house, waiting for Yoongi to come home with Hoseok while Jungkook plays in the field.
- Flowers that flash like beacons out of the corner of your eye, and then it’s not only Jungkook but Hoseok playing in the field too. Both of them running through the field and casting the dandelions onto the floor that spark like embers. Yoongi chases after them- both of them barely come up to his waist. You watch it from the corner of your eye knowing it will feel less real if you turn your head and look at the memory directly.
- The smell of cooking peaches stings in your nose- sour- and you know if you went into your house you could probably find taehyung there- cooking a peach pie. Though it’s a toss up if it would actually be him- and now just a memory you don’t have confused in this.
- You Watch as Hoseok flashes red from human to dragon tackling Yoongi to the ground with a warped grumbly giggle. Jungkook is quick to flop on top with one hand fisted and knocking against Yoongi’s chest, the other buried in Hoseok’s feathery coat.
-It makes you smile- the dreams- these memories are the only thing that makes you remember you’re dreaming. Because you know Hobi and Jungkook haven’t been that small for years. Your children are fully grown now.
- You wish you could go back to those times when it was simpler. And the dreams let you do just that, again and again until the memory barely feels real.
- What surprises you the most are the nightmares. They always bleed into your dreams the moment you least expect them and when you truly let your guard down. Ink darkening the edges of this story before you realize the badness is bleeding through. Anger and a wordless hunger tainting the happy moments.
- You dont think the anger comes from you- maybe its anger from the dream- the world that has found you an unwelcome guest. People aren’t supposed to sleep for so long. And the dream world tries everything it can to get you to wake up.
- Maybe it’s worried you’ll learn how to dream when you’re awake.
- The worst part about the nightmares aren’t the fear- It’s not the falling through the sky, or faceless men chasing you, monsters, or tragedies that you can’t escape. It’s that the nightmares don’t feel the same as when you were awake, no blurry edges- everything too real. These nightmares are born of your memories only to be twisted by the dream world into something more sinister.
- Sometimes you feel like they’re showing you the future- or if not the future- then something that could have happened to your family.
- The nightmares show you realities where Jungkook still wants to be a warrior. Ones where Yoongi never found him and you all meet another way, Not as a family but as enemies on the battlefield.
- In the nightmare, the war has come earlier with Yoongi at the head of the council. And he’s become everything he always feared he could have been, those whispered confessions he’d uttered to you and you’d uttered back under only the cover of darkness. “I think I might be a bad person” “it doesn’t matter if you’re good- just that you’re good to us Yoongi, and for the record- I think it shows the content of your character that you care so much- even when caring hurts”
- In the nightmare world He’s everything he would have been without you. Easily tempted to war without knowing softness and love, without having something to protect. And he’d never chosen a mate either- Yoongi is as lonely and touch-starved as he is bloodthirsty and violent.
- In this nightmare Hoseok is just another dragon soldier who hates humans because of what they’ve done to him. Hoseok and Jungkook first meet each other on opposite sides of the war. Not as brothers but as enemies. Does Hoseok fall by Jungkook’s blade? Or will Jungkook burn without ever knowing about the magic that lurked in his veins? Or worse- would he have found out and used his powers to aid the only people he’d ever known.
- Would he and Seokjin fought in that reality? Two forces so destructive that they could only take out each other- flattening the mountains and ending thousands of lives when they clash. You hear them- from where you watch them fight. the dream war is just as bloody and terrible as the real one- and it's worse to see your family fight.
- Seokjin’s face is tense, eyes slowly dripping blood as he holds the magic in his hands. and jungkook- jungkook looks almost evil. Jungkook’s words don’t sound like your son- his voice deeper- like the dream just can’t get it right “this issue here uncle- is that you have something to fight for and I do not.”
- You beg the dream world to let you wake up but Seokjin’s spell holds you there with ironclad hands.
- You wonder what’s become of taehyung in this reality. Would he have woken from his coffin without Seokjin’s magic to keep him there- or would he have stayed asleep? Never to be woken again? would he sleep the same way Seokjin does, chest broken open on the battlefield, his heart removed clutched in Jungkook’s hand?
- In the dream where Jungkook doesn't know he’s magical, you’re a medic for the human army walking along with the isles of the wounded. Treading over piles of feathers and blood to check the faintly moving chest of a young man, so beautiful despite the fact he’s nearly dead. You don’t recognize Jungkook when you look at him- barely 19 and dying without the magic to protect him and keep him alive
- Maybe it’s some consolation that this other version of you gets to hold Jungkook as he dies. Gets to soothe him and say, “it’s alright, it won’t hurt in a second, you just have to stop breathing and you’ll be at peace.” As he sputters and tries to breathe through his torn lungs. You know what those claw marks mean on his chest- that they’re too deep to ever heal. Jungkook only has minutes left with his shredded lungs.
- You’re so focused on comforting the fallen soldier that you don’t notice the beast that lurks in the shadows. Yoongi might be large but he’s also near-silent and invisible in the darkness. Yoongi only feels hate and not love as he watches you, fire growing in his belly. You might be a medic but you’re still a human and every man you save is just another that will one day fall. The kiss of fire on the back of your neck burns hot and painful one moment, and then the touch of his lips soft the next as you breathe through the nightmare.
- Those are the worst sort of dream because part of you is convinced that’s what could have happened if Yoongi had never killed Jungkook’s blood family. As gruesome as it sounds, you think you’d rather have it this way than be doomed to that fate. At least now- you’re all loved, though you’ll have to see if one day, the one you love becomes the reason the other dies. For both you and Hoseok.
- Maybe soulmates hurt each other just as often as much as love each other.
- When you wake- you tell Yoongi about the dream and kiss his forehead where his head is pillowed against your thigh. Head tilted so his horns don’t knock into your hip. “Do they feel real? The dreams in which I kill you?” he asks you. He doesn’t want you to ever think of that, the improbability of him deciding to hurt you. that you could ever believe that his hands that love you could ever hurt you makes his stomach drop. Yoongi would let himself die, would turn his hands on himself- before he let himself hurt you.
- “Sometimes” you admit, as you kiss him more, deeper now that you can verify it's real. Kisses in the dream world always feel 2d, not like now- when you can taste him and feel his warmth. Kissing him is like hello and a new daydream all at once. Sweet and sweeter because you know it's real. Syrup and honey in equal measure. “But don’t worry, I never believe those dreams for long,”
- But Yoongi does worry, And the day comes that you do forget.
- It’s one of the rare times that Hoseok and Jungkook haven’t come home in time to see you wake. They’re kept south by a snowstorm wiping through the northern lands. But Yoongi’s glad they weren’t they're- glad they didn’t see it.
- It’s the first time that you wake and don’t remember them, your memories and your mind lost to the dream world. Screaming for Taehyung of all people as you fight Yoongi’s hands (only trying to hold you up seeing as you look about ready to pass out). You backpedal on shaky legs and hit the glass edge of your coffin with a violent thud. It shatters against the floor in a great cacophony of glass shards.
- Yoongi barely scoops you up in time so that you don’t fall against them and hurt yourself. Your hands weekly pushing at him to stay away, a monster that you never learned to love, a face you don’t know.
- Taehyung is crying in his coffin as he says your name. Hand weakly reaching out to Tae, Your panic stinks in Yoongi’s nose. Your body is afraid of him- that’s what breaks his heart the most- that he can smell the fear on you and he knows he’s caused it. it's all he can do to repeat in his mind that you’re just Sleepwalking, that’s what it is. You don’t actually hate him- you couldn’t.
- But you won’t wake up- no matter how much Yoongi calls your name. How is it so much harder for you than it is for Taehyung? Seokjin’s never said he did anything like this, Taehyung has never lost himself in the dream world like this.
- The second Tae feels like he has control of his legs he pushes Yoongi off of you. Cupping your cheeks and pulling you up and onto his glass coffin. “It’s not a dream- you’re not dreaming” but your eyes dart around the room like you’re not really seeing it. Yoongi sits there surrounded by glass watching as you don’t fight Tae.
- “Y/n you’re awake- this is your real life- this isn’t another nightmare” But his words fall on your unhearing ears. You stare at Taehyung like they’re something growing out of his head- and who knows- maybe there is. A piece of the dream world that you’ve carried into your waking hours. A hallucination. Yoongi doesn’t want to think about what you might have seen when you looked at his face.
- “Why are you calling me that? That’s not my name.” that’s the final straw, Seokjin knocked out of his reverie and Yoongi pining himself to the wall while Seokjin puts you back to sleep, a thumb pressed to your forehead until you slump in Tae’s arms. Tae holds you so delicately. And it takes seeing him cry for Yoongi to recognize the wetness on his own cheeks as tears too.
- He almost wants to reach out and keep you here. Because he knows- Yoongi knows- once you go into that coffin again they’re no getting you out. One more year to tick by without you. Two at once- They’ve never done this before and they can only hope it works- that you come back whole the next time.
- By the time Jungkook and Hoseok get home at noon, Hoseok’s wings are coated with a faint layer of frost. Yoongi is still sitting out on the edge of the property, watching the faintly raging snowstorm outside the barrier. Eyes wet and dark. His arms wrapped around himself like he’s trying to comfort himself. To alleviate the ache of being untouched. Maybe it’s dramatic- but Yoongi aches like he’s been shot down by an arrow. He never knew he could get so touch starved.
- His children watch him, mixed terror and discomfort at finding their father without their mother on the one day they should be seen together. “She’s not awake- you can get inside and see her though.” yoongi feels like he’ll never be warm again.
- The eternal spring of Seokjin’s home is more than enough to have the cold dissipate, but the cold at seeing you in Tae’s coffin stays. Yours shattered to the side (Seokjin will repair it for Tae later), is something that chills Jungkook to the bone. Jungkook doesn’t realize he’s using the magic in a panic until Hoseok touches his cheek and calls his name.
-All Jungkook knows is that your coffin magically replaced behind Tae’s and that the roses on the trellis outside are sneaking in through the open window. The warmth of Hoseok’s palm is welcomed comfort that Jungkook leans into. Trying not to cry.
- Jungkook and Hoseok get the story from Tae and Seokjin and then go back outside to sit next to their father. “Am I doing the right thing? Or should we just let her wake up and-“ Jungkook is the first to shake his head. “Mom doesn’t want to die dad- she’d say the same if she could” Hoseok’s hands tighten on their pants. Their whole body shaking at the thought of letting you- just letting you die.
- “Next year- it will be different.” No one says that they don’t know that for sure. That they’re just trying whatever they think will work without knowing if you’re right. If you even can come back. Jungkook and Hoseok stay for longer this time, to comfort their father. But then-one day weeks later, he stands up.
- They’re out of books. At least for now- until Hoseok and Jungkook can rocket across the world, every swipe of Hoseok’s wings faster- harder, pushing themselves to carry more. They feel like time is ticking down.
- The next year you wake without a fuss. And no one mentions the last year to you; you don’t remember what happened at all. You have no idea that it’s been two since they last saw you. And this time- Yoongi treasures it even more. For 18 hours- he doesn’t stop touching you. A hand on your lower back or your cheek. 18 hours of love after two years of nothing.
- Hoseok watches you carefully, looking for a hint that you know what happened, that you remember it in any way. But the day remains lost to the tangle of your memories and dreams. More than once- Hoseok catches you watching them, eyes furrowed like you’re having some sort of inner debate or trying to decide if what you’re seeing is real.
- Your brief wakefulness might be their favorite part- but it’s also the scariest.
- It gets a little better, the dreams can’t create new things for you- only things you’ve experienced before really. So when you see them in newer clothes, when they actively change things about your surroundings before you wake up it makes a difference.
- Seokjin changes the spell around his castle to fall just for you, and you spend ages in the garden, pressing sweet tomatoes to Yoongi’s mouth and cooking pumpkin seeds with Hoseok and Jungkook. Hoseok excitingly shows you their new trick- a little jet of fire that they can manage on their hands in their human form. It’s far from Yoongi’s near magic control of fire but it still makes you smile and shout and give Hoseok little scratches on the head a proud feeling in your chest.
- No matter that you need to reach up to do it now- they’ve been taller than you for so long it’s hard to remember they were ever so tiny. Hoseok’s change is also another thing that makes it easier. You dislike it- and you’d never treat your child any differently than how they wanted to treat them- but when you dream Hoseok- they’re still listless in their skin, a boy along with Jungkook.
- It’s reassuring when you wake and find them still the same as ever but so much more comfortable in their skin than they’d ever been before. As a child, Hoseok had been quiet and easily anxious (only soothed by Jungkook) now they’re louder and happier, a little bit of something shimmery gold on their eyelids, dancing around the kitchen and sending off little puffs of yellow fire (only to be contained by Jungkook’s magic).
- “Really Hobi- the kitchen is made of wood- you’ve got to be careful’). Their face stretching in a familiar heart-shaped smile that you all love. Hoseok is so so happy.
- You’ve never seen them this happy, and that makes the discontent rise in your chest because- how had you never realized they weren’t? How did you never see that Comfort was a fickle thing in Hoseok’s chest in a way it wasn’t for anyone but Jimin.
- You try to remember back to their meeting sometimes. Hoseok had looked at Jimin like he hung the stars and asked more questions than anyone else. You’d assumed it was just childlike curiosity- but maybe that had a deeper meaning than you’d initially thought.
- Before you sleep you unpack some of your old clothes and hand them down to Hoseok. Fine clothes and silks that Yoongi had made for you when you lived closer to the dragon city. Seeing as you have no use for them anymore, they’re a similar size- and Hoseok is only a little bit larger than you, maybe a tad bit broader but you liked your clothes flowy and loose anyway.
- You anchor yourself with their smile when you go into the dreams again. Excited to wake and help Hoseok explore their feminine side more.
- The nightmares are ever vibrant and feverish, with reality at a resolution just out of clarity. You dream of each of your family hurt beyond repair and you dream that they’re happy without you. Those hunters grabbing a tiny Hoseok by his feathers and tear them- his beautiful- delicate wings, and pluck him like a chicken.
- They do the same to Yoongi- albeit slower, removing every inch of his wing membrane until his bones clatter together like a wind chime. You have to watch, unable to move regardless of his roars that shake the earth. Maybe it says a lot about your love if the thing you’re scared of most is not being there to comfort Yoongi.
- Other nightmares of black fire that climbs the walls and sinks close to Jungkook in his baby basket. A calamity that you cannot end, like the trudge of time- the nightmares feel like they last forever. The wand in his arm burning too- unable to bond with him. His soul burned from the inside out. You scramble over his ashes, grasping at them like it will bring him back.
- You can’t help it, sobbing like your heart was ripped out. Hoseok falling too, crying in anguish as part of his soul dies. his wings fall limp- unable to fly without Jungkook. The saddest death is that of someone who can no longer do what they love, and the second saddest is a dragon without its wings.
- It’s so sad, It’s just like that time you woke up and saw only strangers in your bedroom, the nightmares always feel so real.
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Part 8: The Woman and The War *coming soon*
#min yoongi x reader#bts fanfic#bts#bts fluff#bts angst#bts fanfiction#bts fantasy au#bts au#min yoongi#yoongi x reader#bts hybrid au#bts shifter au#park jimin#kim taehyung#jung hoseok#kim seokjin#kim namjoon#jeon jungkook#hopekook#taejin#minjoon#bts hurt/comfort#bts gender#bts genderfluid#min yoongi fic#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#bts x reader
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web of lies
take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.
photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist
w/c: 7.1k
warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint
summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all
a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading
to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.
a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.
he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.
“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”
your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.
that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.
—
“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”
“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”
“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”
“does anyone have an aspirin?”
welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.
although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.
you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.
thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.
mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.
harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.
there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.
last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.
you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.
peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.
the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.
“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.
ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.
“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.
“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.
mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.
“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.
as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?
“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”
uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.
“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.
“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.
“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”
what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.
it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.
quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.
you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.
“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.
it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.
grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.
you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.
“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.
“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.
“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“
“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”
you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.
the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.
you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.
“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.
“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.
“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.
biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.
then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.
“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”
“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.
“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.
confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.
mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.
peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.
“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.
“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.
“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”
after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.
you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.
it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.
you’ve never missed a deadline.
mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.
“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“
mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,��� you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”
harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.
“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.
“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”
mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”
the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.
you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.
you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.
taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.
“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.
“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”
considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.
“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”
“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.
“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”
peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.
“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.
getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”
“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.
“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”
you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.
“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.
“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”
something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.
“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.
“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.
he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.
peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.
things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.
later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?
they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.
the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.
ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.
pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.
his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.
peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.
“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“
the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”
in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’
“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”
“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.
“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.
“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.
ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.
“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.
“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.
he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.
you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.
“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.
you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.
“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.
you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”
listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.
“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”
“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.
“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.
“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.
“what are you doing tonight?”
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