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butterfly-winx · 4 years

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Zenith

- Do you know about Zenith? No? I mean you own a computer so you must. I hear the whole planet is covered in one large city.

- Zenith lives up to its name, as it is regarded to be the home to the height technological development in the Magic Universe. It houses the more universities, research institutes and engineering testing fields on its tiny surface than Magics and Earth combined.

- Though it is true that the planetoid is covered with a seemingly uniform cityscape, there are patches of untended ground peeking through, mainly the polar seas. Antitheva and Bitheva may only classify as large lakes elsewhere, but they are perfectly fit for a small planet of Zenith’s size. They even help populations of merfolk at some point in time.

- The overwhelming amount of construction covering the planet’s surface has long become its vice. With no reflective surfaces left and with machinery forced to operate day and night to fuel the latest technological advancements, the whole planet has become a singular heat trap. The seas were boiling and the air was unbreathably hot. What got research going however was the failing performance of their heavy duty machinery, screws sweating and bending out of shape, lasers blinking tired and unfocused. They devised a plan to cool down the surface of the planet by releasing agents to shield them from the thermal effects of solar rays, and achieved the impossible. Zenith’s climate has since then settled on a comfortable average of 250 K.

- The seas froze over and the merpeople disappeared - or maybe they did already during the boiling phase, out of their luck living off already dead fish. Urban development was given final approval and the last patches of earth disappeared from sight, buried under the striving for more.

- Despite its aforementioned properties, Zenith is no monolith and it would be amiss to describe it as such. Zeniths countries and cultures are diverse, only connected by their burning need for advancement and their fight against the cold. They have a spectrum of governance forms in the different countries ranging from democracy, constitutional monarchy to representative republic and in some cases even direct democracy of people.

- As cities cover all of the planet, it is difficult to determine where individual settlements in a country begin and end. Country borders are the only demarcations, each government shielding itself with force fields, trenches or physical walls from imagined spies and malevolence.

- Techna’s home of Haikar is in a country that still tries to honour the memory of the separate settlements that have melded together. So Haikar is not a separate town as much as it is just a borough with its own town governance, and is considered to be the capital of Transjordan.

- Other Zenith country names with capitals where applicable: Tribilisi (Kandu), Gorgan, Nuzul (Xihat), Tbaku, Navyol, Urzghar

- Most of these countries don’t get along with each other too well. As is understandable, seeing as they are very culturally diverse. Each wants to be the best though and their most bitterly fought battles are usually over patent rights and the tenure of well-respected scientists. As banal as these reasons seem, as brutal are their methods of mutual sabotage to keep the leading edge.

- Transjordan unfortunately is quite small and has many neighbours, so their paranoia and battle readiness is markedly large even on planet. Growing up, Techna went through disaster and terror awareness training regularly, to the point where they could probably recite what to do in case you found a car bomb better than they could explain a simple recipe.

- Oh and are recipes important! As clean edged people think the inhabitants of Transjordan are, there is nothing minimalist about their food choices. They love combining spices and textures and always serve feasts with generosity rivalling Eraklyon’s. Deserts usually have some sort of fruits, nuts AND some preserve in them, the combinations endless.

- While it is true that for the most part, cultures on Zenith value a simple approach to things. If it can be done in a few words, why waste a sentence on it? Bureaucracy is usually a two-click-formula affair, their whole lives are condensed on a sigle digital display ID, shopping comes to you at home. Hell even marriages are just an affair of simple form signing.

- But food is where they really go full ham. It is not seen as frivolous to waste 10 eggs on a cake, because what you are doing creating nutrition and enjoyment. It is simply reasonable and efficient to go to the max when you do that and create an absolute delicacy you can gorge yourself on in one slice or less.

- So if they are so into feasting and enjoying things with purpose, what gives Zenithians such a bad name? Well, it is just that. People of Transjordan for example, like to enjoy things with purpose. They don’t really care much for music or theatre, they are just activities to air your brain out. They will import off-world made products, but there isn’t a lot of room for cultural arts on Zenith because they channel their passion elsewhere.

- Yes you heard right, Zenithinas have passion galore. They just, in the Universe's most efficient move, channel that passion into the work they already do. The majority of scientific discoveries have been made because somebody cared enough to look deep into a topic and push further, because previous answers were unsatisfactory. Children are coached to find something that inspires this level of devotion in them and have extensive education and support networks to get them there.

- On the topic of children: most of them aren’t the genetic descendants of their parents, rather a random selection from the common gene pool. The public gene pool is a hotly debated topic, but a long established structure of procreation that only the very wealthy have the option to contest. (There is a way to gain approval to sire an own baby from just the genes of two people, but it is extremely costly.)

In some research some time ago it was determined that for the optimal survival of people on the planet, genetic relation to the parents raising the child was not only suboptimal, but actively detrimental to overall population survival. In this “more civilised” approach, parents apply for a baby who is conceived and birthed in bioreactors. This way no people who can conceive are put through undue stress and the public gene pool babies also carry less hereditary health conditions. It is supposedly a win-win situation, yet it leaves a sour taste in most people’s mouth. No wonder less and less Zenithians plan families if that is the process they have to do it by.

- As straightforward as they are, Zenithians often struggle when communicating with people from other planets and not only because of arising cultural differences. Sure any Zenithian would blush and pale when forced into a situation dealing with overly expressive Solarians, but in any other regular case, the Universal Translation Spell is not on their side either. Jordan is a very logical and to the point language and the floralitiy of other languages is impossible to be transferred to it. The UTS instead produces blocky, difficult to parse translations that often leave Techna confused to the intentions of others.

- It is of course evident that the main industry of the planet is electronics production and R&D. Companies on Zenith produce all manners of gadgets, but they are best in creating refrigeration technology (ironic, right?), astronomic instruments, self-propulsion transportation (vehicles) and medical diagnostic tools and applications. The associated application programming industry is also booming with server houses the size of smaller cities. It is no surprise that Zenith’s electricity consumption is through the roof with such a vital sector to support.

- Before their trade for electricity with Solaria, Zenithian people used static electricity discharges to harvest energy. Their planet being covered with one gigantic city didn’t leave much space for utilising the natural resources of their planet. All the mineral ore having been exhausted, no major flowing waters left and stranded with miserable and cold weather the options for energy sources were limited. What they had however was tall buildings and thunderstorms, so they used lightning harvesters for ages.

- With the storm and snow clouds obscuring the sky most days, Zenith is quite dark. The cities illuminate themselves, kind of like year round festive ornamentation.

- Spirituality is an interesting topic on planet that everyone you ask will have a different answer for. Major parts of Tribilisi and Urzghar for example believe in machine assisted immortality. They see machines as superior to biological matter and work towards the unfallability and omniscience of artificial intelligence in which part of their conscience will be able to rest after death. The predominant belief in Transjordan that Techna grew up with is that after death, there is nothing. Based on the theory of energy conservation, what one doesn’t use and convert into heat will be redistributed into the rest of the world. It is selfish to think one could hold on to any energy after death.

- Most people also don’t care for magic. Sure some magic users crop up among them here and there, but they most likely remain untrained. This is why Techna chose a school off planet to pursue their passion and why they weren’t claimed as a Guardian fairy of Zenith after they graduated. (Since this position doesn’t exist.)

- Almost all things on the planet are solved non-magically accordingly. Their transport systems are unparalleled with some regions using small-distance whole structure replication, aka honest to god matter teleportation. The frozen over seas are also fully utilised with air cushion containerships cruising the flat expanse. Along a certain longitude Zenith also sports a unique feature: the longitudinal crust train. A four meter wide segment of the planet, as if cut out of the surrounding cityscape, moves on straight rails around the whole circumference of the planet. It is the fastest mode of civilian transport available.

- They need all the good transportation and radio transmission they can get - by the way, the Universe Wide Web is also a Zenithian invention, who would have thought - as with their living space limited, Zenithian countries have spilled over onto nearby moons, essentially colonising and terraforming those.

- So, you see, Zenith and either of its countries aren’t by far as boring as one might think on the first glance and most of them certainly don’t shy back from showing emotion.

#winx club #worldbuilding #winx club zenith #zenith #butterfly fic #winx techna #I held onto this for so long I think this has the longest collection of hcs of all of the planets posts #just to clarify: zenith is the planet transjordan the country and haikar the city techna is from #also bonus points to anyone who can find the cities/places on a map that I derived the Zenithian country names from

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nctsworld · 4 years

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the yuletide boyfriend

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:

“WISHLIST: -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow. ��

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side, ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time.

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping.

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile. “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

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99liv3s · 3 years

Text

Be Careful What You Wish For

Lena laughed as she completed the last question of this little online contest she was participating in. The invitation had appeared in her email one day along with a link, and she had curiosity followed that link to a website that described the contest. All Lena would have to do is answer a few questions correctly before other "participants" and she would be the winner of "her fondest wish!!" Lena had laughed at this, thinking this was a fun little game someone had put up, and though she did not take it seriously at all, she decided to join in the fun. Where was the harm in it?? She was bored at the moment after all.

The "contest" consisted of a few straightforward questions that she was easily able to answer. Shaking her long blonde hair out of her face, Lena's bright blue eyes watched as the site processed her answers, then a message popped up on her screen: "Congratulations, you have won the contest!! You may now make your wish!! What do you desire??" Lena giggled as she jokingly pondered this question, then typed in the first thing that popped into her head: "I wish to live forever!!" Laughing softly as she hit the send button, saw "Your wish is granted! Thank you for playing!" And closed the window, Lena thought, "This was a cute, fun little distraction, but now I gotta finish chores!"

A couple hours later, Lena plopped into her living room lounge chair, rubbing her belly. She felt somewhat sick and bloated, but she was also exhausted from laundry and housework, so she figured she was just hungry and worn out. Shaking off the feeling, she decided that after she rested for a while, she'd make herself a sandwich. Another hour passed, with Lena watching TV when she looked down and saw a shock!! Her normally small petite belly had expanded outward, making her look very pregnant!! She gasped in horror, and jumped to her feet, a mistake that nearly sent her crashing to the floor, for she was not used to the balance of her new belly. She felt heavy, and full, confused as to how this had happened to her! "I'm having an allergic reaction, she thought anxiously. "That has to be it!!" "I've caught some sort of virus and I'm having a reaction to..." Her thoughts trailed away as she felt movement in her belly, and she absentmindedly rubbed it. "I... I can't be pregnant," she blurted out to her empty house. "I've never had sex... this has to be a bad dream, right??"

Lena waddled into her bedroom and reached the nearby bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked nine months pregnant, her belly hanging out of the clothes she had been wearing on the body that had been so small and slim just a few hours ago. She was still confused and scared as to what had happened to her when suddenly, she doubled over as a painful contraction hit her. Lena gasped as she felt pressure build up, then a gush of water leaked out of her, soaking her bottoms.

"UUUGGHHH", Lena moaned as she slowly made her way back into her bedroom. She reached the bed and climbed on it, as she felt something heavy drop onto her hips. Frantically, she kicked off her pants as she felt huge pressure in her pussy. She could not help but push, screaming in pain. "AAAAHHHHHH!!" Lena felt a burning sensation as whatever was coming out of her began to crown. She struggled to get her panties off, panting and crying as the pain peaked. As the head emerged farther, causing a bulge to form in her underwear, she screamed a high pitched scream and whined as the burning and pressure worsened. She knew she had to get her panties off, or it would block the baby that she was somehow delivering, so she gritted her teeth through the pain and pulled her underwear down to her feet. She then began kicking, not just to get the panties off her feet, but because the pain was so bad, it caused her to thrash around like crazy. She whined and moaned and cried as she felt the heavy head slowly push out, stretching her pussy wide. Screaming, she pushed, willing this process to go faster. "THIS HURTS!!!" she yelled, though she knew no one else was in the house. Finally, she felt a pop and knew the head had finally gotten out. Without waiting another second, Lena pushed, brushing her sweaty blonde hair out of her face, and felt relief as the baby left her body.

For about a minute, Lena lay there, shaking, hardly able to believe what had just happened to her. Then, something in her mind clicked as she realized "Wait, if I just had a baby, shouldn't it be crying??" Lena slowly moved around so she could pick up the baby she had just birthed, noting three distinct things about it: First, it did not have a umbilical cord attached to it, just a belly button. Second, the baby was a girl, with blonde hair the same general shade as Lena's, and third, the baby was not crying, but Lena could clearly see that it was alive and healthy, almost content. Her eyes were closed and she moved around and kicked, as if she had been born for a while and was just simply sleeping. Lena held her baby and stared at it for the longest time before realizing how exhausted she was. Afraid she might accidentally turn over on the baby as she slept, Lena decided she would not sleep with the baby in her own bed, and so the new mother gingerly got up and found the softest part of her bedroom's carpet she could find and placed the baby gently onto it, laying her on her back. Thinking that she would try to figure all this out tomorrow, she fell backward onto her bed and fell asleep.

When Lena awoke the next morning, her first thought was, "Oh God, what a horrible nightmare!! It felt so real!" As she rose up, she realized something was wrong. She was lying on the floor, naked. She looked over her body, thinking. "Did I fall out of bed??" She got to her feet and then her blue eyes fell upon the bed, and she screamed. The shirt and bra she had been wearing last night were lying on the bed, being worn by a skeleton. Lena trembled as she looked around the room, her mind racing. After a while, she remembered where she had placed the baby she had birthed... it had been lying in the exact spot where Lena had woke up, but as she now looked at that spot, there was no baby there, nor any sign there ever was. As she continued to ponder this, terrified, she also realized that her body felt better than it had ever felt in her life, almost as if it were a new....body....

Lena rushed into the bathroom and vomited as realization hit her. She had given birth to herself. Somehow, after she had fallen asleep, her body died, and her consciousness or soul or whatever had transferred to the baby, which had apparently grown rapidly. She looked herself over, noting that her body seemed to be the same age as it had been last night, in her late 20s. "How is this possible??" She breathed. Lena made her way back into the bedroom, noticing at once that the bones were now gone, leaving only the clothes she was wearing last night, and what appeared to be sweat and other bodily fluids. Lena shuddered at the thought, but did not know what else to do. Her tummy grumbled, and she realized she was starving... of course, this new body had not eaten yet.

Hours later, Lena had eaten, dressed, and had gone into work. Sitting at her desk, her mind was not on her work, however. She could not get her odd situation out of her mind, and the more she pondered on it, the more it made sense that the body she now inhibited was the one she gave birth to. "The baby's features were just like mine," she thought. "Female, petite body, blonde hair... if I saw its eyes, I bet they were blue, just like mine!" "I never had sex, so the baby could only be another me!" "But, how??" "How is this possible??" "What caused this to happen to me??" Lena spent all of her workday lost in thought, and after a while, convinced herself that it had to have been a nightmare. She must have hallucinated those bones, and just simply did not remember taking off her clothes, or falling out of bed during the night. As for her body feeling better than it ever had?? Maybe that was just a result of healthy living lately!! When she arrived home, Lena grabbed her bra and shirt from off her bed and threw it into the laundry. She then looked around the room, and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she told her mind it was a vivid nightmare, and to forget about it, and get on with her life.

Two days had passed, and Lena had not given the incident another thought. She had been shut up in her office, preparing an important presentation for her boss to give soon. Her friend and co-worker Marianne had come by to collect the finished presentation, and Lena stood to hand it to her. "Excellent," Marianne said "Lena, this is just what our boss needs to secure that new agreement!!" "You always come through when we need it!" Marianne's brown eyes looked Lena over. "Oh, by the way, congratulations!! When are you due??" Lena looked at her friend confused. "What??" she asked, before looking down at herself and barely stifling a gasp. She was sporting a small bump, almost as if she were about 3 or 4 months pregnant. Her mind raced in panic as her friend was still speaking: "Boy or girl??" After a few seconds, in which Lena composed herself, she smiled and said, "Oh, it's a girl!" Marianne nodded. "I don't know why you didn't tell me or any of us before now, but again, congratulations!" Lena smiled as Marianne left the room, the Lena scrambled for the bathroom. As she closed the door behind her, she collapsed against it, breathing rapidly. "This can't be happening!" She thought. "I can't be pregnant!!" "This isn't happening again!!" "That was just a nightmare... wasn't it??" She glanced into the mirror, her shining blue eyes staring back at her, eyeing her small bump, and she groaned softly. "What the hell am I going to do??"

After she got home, Lena decided that she was not going back to work for a while. This proved to be a good idea, for as the week passed, her bump grew rapidly, and by the time she reached the weekend, she looked ready to pop. She had called the office, telling them she had caught a virus, and that she would be working from home for a while. This worked perfectly, except apparently Marianne began to worry about her, as she had begun calling Lena everyday. Lena assured her she was fine, just sick, and when Marianne asked about "the baby," Lena told her that she need not worry about it.

On the day Lena realized a full week had passed since she had had her supposed nightmare, she tried to get out of bed when she was hit by painful contractions and pressure. "Oooohhh", she moaned, rocking back and forward on the bed, clutching her belly. Hoping that walking might help the contractions, Lena got shakily to her feet and began taking small steps around her bedroom. With each step, Lena felt the baby inside her drop lower and lower. Eventually, she could not take it anymore and she dropped to her knees, crying out in agony. She spread out on all fours, her large belly hanging down and her blonde hair in her face, inwardly thankful she had been going to bed naked lately. Tears streamed from her blue eyes as she wailed and pushed, her butt and vagina high in the air. The baby's head tunneled roughly through her birth canal as she panted and moaned. Her legs shook with pain and cramps as Lena let out another roar of pain. As the head began to peek out of her, she felt the burning in her pussy that signaled the baby's crowning. "OOHH!! OOOHHH GOD!!" She yelled. "AAHHH IT HURTS!! IT'S BURNING!!!!" she cried and grabbed the top of the bed, pulling herself into a semi-squatting position, hoping gravity would help. Lena threw her head back and cried out loudly as she felt the head seem to split her vagina open. Bearing down, she pushed until the head was hanging out between her legs. Stopping only to pant and catch her breath, Lena reached down with her left hand and felt the baby's head. When another contraction hit, she squatted and groaned as she gave another push, and the baby dropped onto the carpet.

After spending a few minutes to rest, Lena looked down at the baby. Like before, it was a little girl, not attached, and not crying, but clearly alive. Lena held and hugged the baby against her chest, thinking rapidly. "It wasn't a nightmare, unless I'm having it again!" "What do I do??" "Do I dare fall asleep again??" Thinking back, Lena was convinced that giving birth this second time seemed more difficult and more painful than the first, but she was not sure. Realizing that she was exhausted and hungry, Lena placed the baby in the center of her bed and staggered to the kitchen. Her body after giving birth was sore and weak, but everything seemed to be over. She made a quick sandwich and collapsed on her sofa in the living room, lost in thought. As she ate silently, random questions popped into her head, and she decided that today, since it was early in the morning when she had given birth, she was going to experiment.

12 hours later, with night falling outside, Lena felt more confused than ever. After eating earlier, she had returned to her room and started touching and talking to the baby, in an attempt to get it to open its eyes, but it never did. Lena then tried to feed it, holding it up to one of her breasts, but nothing happened. On an upside, there was no diaper to change either, for the baby did not seem to have to poop or pee. If not for the breathing and it occasionally moving around, Lena would have sworn the baby was just a realistic looking doll. Tired, Lena decided to try one last experiment before she went to sleep. She had brought the baby into the living room and placed her on the sofa. Lena then returned to her bedroom, thinking that if she woke up on the sofa tomorrow, then it confirmed her theory about what was happening, assuming she could fall asleep will so many anxious thoughts in her head. However, as soon as her head hit the pillow, Lena drifted off immediately.

Lena turned and felt herself hit the floor. Snapping awake, she found herself lying in front of her sofa. She let out a soft scream and jumped to her feet. Rushing into her bedroom, she found her bed soaking wet, and only the pajamas she had worn to bed as part of her experiment. Trembling, she backed against the wall and slid down it onto the floor, burying her face in her hands. "It's true!" She thought. "Everytime I fall mysteriously pregnant, I give birth to a baby that will eventually become my new body!" "But, why?? And how??" "Am I cursed??"

Lena again did not go back to work. She decided to spend the day on the internet, searching for answers, ignoring a missed call from Marianne. Scouring the internet, she tried to determine if anyone else had ever been in her situation before, but she was unsuccessful. She had even posted her situation in a few forums on the deeper parts of internet, but only got responses telling her she had a vivid, or a sick imagination, and that her "ideas" would make a good story. Frustrated, Lena was getting ready to shut down her computer, before noticing the new email icon, and something clicked in her mind. She was reminded about that strange online contest she had taken, and realized that it was right after that when all these strange things had started happening to her. Lena accessed her search history and located the website where she had played the contest. She saw that message thanking her for playing and then found the information she had overlooked before. "Questions??" It said, with a phone number under it. Her heart racing, Lena grabbed her smartphone and called the number immediately!

After two rings, a kind female voice answered, telling Lena that she had called the helpline for the online contest. Lena told the woman everything that had happened since winning the contest, expecting the woman to hang up, laugh, or even tell her that she had no idea what Lena was talking about. However, to her surprise, the woman answered "Of course!" "What is happening to you is what you wished for." Lena fell silent confused. "I wish to live forever," the woman said as if she was reading it, then said with a giggle, "That wish has come true." "With each week, your body produces a brand new replacement, and once you give birth to it, it becomes your new body." "Constantly changing to a fresh body each week means you will never grow old and die." "Congratulations!!" Lena gasped in shock. "How do I make it stop??" She asked the woman. "Stop??" The voice repeated. "Why would you want to??" "Your wish is granted." "I didn't think that was serious," Lena yelled in a pleading voice. "Please, you have to help me!!" "It hurts to give birth every week" "I don't want this wish anymore!!" "Please get rid of it!" "That can't be done," the woman responded. "All granted wishes are final!" "Have a nice day!" With that, the woman hung up. Lena tossed her phone to the side and collapsed into her chair, crying. "I AM cursed!!" She blurted out!!

Lena called and quit her job, thinking that, in order to avoid awkward questions, she would have to find a job that allowed her to work from home. Three days later, she had accepted an online application for a work from home proofreader, which was similar to what she did before, but would allow her to avoid human contact and submit her work online. She was already showing another small pregnant bump by this time, and she absentmindedly rubbed it as she finished chores around the house. Though a part of her mind had subconsciously accepted her new life situation, Lena was still dismayed that she seemed to be stuck in this cycle of "rebirth" forever. She had continued to search the internet for any kind of hope or help, even going so far as to search for unusual births, frequent birth fetish sites, and even post about her situation in various birth related forums, but it seemed that her situation was unique, or else no one else had gone public with it. Her failure to find even a shred of hope caused her to fall into a kind of depression, and she only half-heartedly threw herself into her new work, knowing that she still needed money regardless.

After six days had passed, Lena was lying spread out on her sofa, her hand resting on her large belly as she read a romance novel, trying anything to help take her mind off things, when a knock at her door made her jump. Confused, Lena rose up and waddled to her front door, seeing Marianna through its small window. Lena opened the door, greeting her friend and former co-worker, who looked at Lena with concern. "Lena, what's been going on with you??" Marianne asked. "I haven't heard from you in days... you quit your job suddenly, and refuse to answer my calls or texts." "Are you ok??" Marianne looked Lena up and down, taking in the huge bump. "Lena, I didn't know you were that far along!" "Does all of this have to do with the baby, because I know that..." Marianne trailed off, for at the mention of the word baby, Lena burst into tears and fell into Marianne's arms, crying hysterically. "I'm... I'm not ok at all!" Lena sobbed, as Marianne held her. "Mari, I don't...know... what to do!!" For a while, Marianne just held her friend, listening to her crying, then looked into Lena's eyes, and asked, "When's the last time you left the house??"

An hour later, Marianna had driven the two of them to the park, thinking that some time out of the house would do Lena some good. As the two of them walked slowly through it, having the park mostly to themselves, Lena realized that Marianne insisting that she get out of the house was a good thing, for Lena began to somewhat feel better. "Lena, please talk to me," Marianna pleaded, a concerned expression on her face. As they continued their stroll, Lena shook her head, staring at the ground, and her protruding belly. "I want to tell you, but I don't think you'll believe me," She relied. "Tell me what??" Marianne asked, still looking at Lena with concern. When Lena did not respond, Marianne stopped her and the two of them stood in a large patch of grass in a deeper corner of the park. "Lena, you can tell me anything," Marianne said to her. "Remember, I'm a scifi and fantasy nut!" "Whatever it is, I'll believe you." Lena looked into her friend's face, thinking that if anyone in the entire world would believe her right now, it was Marianne. So, Lena took a deep breath, and told her everything: About taking the contest and making her wish, about how she had fallen pregnant without warning, how she had given birth twice already, about how she had discovered that she was giving birth to her own replacement bodies, and how she had found the help line for the contest, and how the woman over the phone had confirmed what Lena had suspected. Marianne listened to her friend intently, and when Lena finished, she was relieved that Marianne had not laughed at her or told her she was insane. "Unbelievable," Marianne gasped. "So, it's a curse, and it can't be undone??" Lena nodded somberly. "Mari, you gotta help me... I don't know what to do." Marianne hugged her friend, comforting her. "Of course, Lena, there must be something that we can do," she said, smiling. "We'll figure it out together!!" "I'll help you look deeper online, and I can discreetly make some inquiries with some friends who might be able to help." "We'll figure something out, I promise." Lena looked at Marianne, feeling the first bit of joy and hopefulness she had felt since this crazy situation had begun. It was a long shot, yes, but at this point, she needed any silver of hope that she could get. Lena sighed happily and let out a laugh, embracing her friend as much as she could, before a painful weight hit her hips.

Lena cried out in pain, nearly falling to the ground, if not for Marianne catching her. "Aagghh, it's coming!! Mari, it's coming!!" Lena cried, feeling the pressure in her lower abdomen. "Oh God, Lena, we've gotta get you to a hospital," Marianne responded, pulling out her phone to call an ambulance. Panting, Lena stopped her, grabbing Marianne's hand. "No.... no hospital!" Lena breathed. When Marianne stared into her face shocked, Lena shook her head. "How... will I... explain.... this?" "Too.... many.... questions..." Lena squealed as the pain worsened, and Marianne dropped her phone back into her purse. "Ok, back home then," she said. "Back home where it's more comfortable and private..." "There's.... no....time..." Lena said breathlessly. "It's... starting... to PUUUAAAAA!!" Lena let out a yell of agony as another contraction forced the baby painfully through her pelvis. "OOOHHH!! MARI, HELP ME, IT HURTS!!" Without another word, Marianne grabbed onto Lena and helped her over to a nearby park bench, thankful that this section of the park was currently deserted. As Lena moaned and cried, Marianne helped her onto the bench, taking off her bottoms, and positioning one of her legs to hang across the back of the bench, so that Lena was lying across it with her legs open. Lena screamed as she felt the burning and pressure in her vagina. "MARI, IT'S THERE! THE HEAD'S THERE!! IT BURNS!! OOOOWWWWW!!" Lena screamed as her pussy began to stretch around the head. Marianne moved in between Lena's legs, seeing the tip of the baby's head lodged in her small vagina. "Lena, honey, you're doing great!" Marianne coached. "Don't worry, I'll catch the baby when it comes out!" "It'll all be over soon!" "When you feel you need to, push!!" Lena screamed as the head emerged slowly, opening her wider and wider. "AAGGHH, IT HURTS!!" Lena yelled. "OH, PLEASE GET IT OUT!! MARI, PLEASE!!" As Lena begged and cried, Marianne rubbed her legs softly, watching as the head inched out. After another minute, the head fully emerged with a pop and a gush of fluids, causing Lena to gasp loudly. Marianne laughed and nodded in relief, looking into her friend's eyes. "One more push, Lena!!" She told her. "Just one more!"

45 minutes later, Marianne drove into the driveway of Lena's house, with Lena herself in the passenger seat, holding the baby girl that she had just given birth to in the park, weak and exhausted. Marianne got out of her car and then helped Lena slowly to her feet and guided her into her house. Lena lowered herself into her nearby armchair as Marianne took the baby from her and placed it onto the sofa. "That was intense, Lena," Marianne said to her. Lena nodded weakly at her friend and smiled softly at her. "Thank you for being there," Lena said quietly. "Is it always like that??" Marianne asked. Lena sat in quiet contemplation for a moment before saying hoarsely, "No, it seemed worse that time!" Lena stared at the baby lying over on the sofa, moving around timidly, lost in thought. Why did it seem like each time she gave birth, it felt worse?? Was it just her, or was it somehow because these bodies were technically giving birth after being a week old?? Lena watched as the baby continued to squirm silently. She did not think this baby was any bigger than the last two, so she did not understand. Would the next one be even worse? Lena noticed Marianne watching her, and gave her another weak smile, trying to assure her wordlessly that she was ok. "So, what happens now??" Marianne asked, looking around the room. Lena sighed and shook her head. "I don't know," she responded. "Everything that happens next just happens." "I fall asleep, and when I wake up, I'm somehow inside the baby's body, which is instantly the same age as when I fell asleep!" "I don't know why or how..." Marianne stared into her friend's face, clearly astonished. "So, wonder what would happen if someone was watching when you fell asleep?" She inquired. Lena just shook her head, too exhausted to think, though in a part of her mind, she wondered this too. "Lena, I'm gonna spend the night here," Marianne told her. "Maybe we can find out, and besides, I think you need me." "You shouldn't be alone during all this." Lena looked up into her friend's face, and simply nodded. "Okay," Marianne placed a hand on Lena's shoulder and squeezed it softly. "Alright, you rest for a while," she said comfortingly. "I'm just gonna run back to my place and pack a few things, ok??" Lena nodded and watched as Marianne walked back out the door. Lena was weary, and also hungry, so she eased out of her chair and made her way to her kitchen, finding a few cookies to munch on. Afterward, she went to her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, letting out an exhausted sigh. She only wanted to rest, like Marianne told her to do, but within minutes, she was fast asleep.

Lena was jerked awake by a loud scream, and she rolled off the couch and onto the floor, disoriented. She got to her feet and ran into the bedroom, where she saw Marianne staring at a human skeleton wearing the clothes Lena had worn to the park earlier. Marianne was trembling with shock, and yelped again when she turned and saw Lena standing naked behind her. "Lena, it... it's TRUE!!" Marianne blurted out. "I believed you, of course, but seeing it for myself..." Lena placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I know, Mari," Lena said. "I've been living it the past few weeks." After Lena had quickly thrown on some clothes, the two of them returned to the living room, where Marianne collapsed onto the couch Lena had awoken from minutes earlier. "Packing took longer than I thought," Marianna explained. "When I came back in, I saw you asleep on the couch, and I didn't think anything about it, so I thought you put the baby in the bedroom, and I decided to go in there, and that's when I saw..." She trailed off, looking shaken, and buried her face in her hands. Lena sat next to her and put her arms around her comfortingly. "It was me, but not anymore," Lena whispered. "I'm right here now, and I'm ok!" Marianne looked into her eyes. "Until the next time you give birth all over again, right?" She asked. Lena nodded, and her face fell. "Yeah, in about a week, I'll be doing it again," she responded. "I'm cursed!!" Marianne seemed to have calmed down, and she looked at Lena, seeming to examine her entire body. "I'm not taking away how difficult this situation is for you, Lena," she began, "But, if you look at this another way, you could call it a gift too." "I mean, you never die, and you're good as new each week..." Marianne faltered under the shocked and scathing look her friend was giving her. "Sorry, I know you didn't want this," she said. "Like I said in the park, I'll help you find a solution any way I can!"

As the day passed, the two of them talked, with Marianne asking question after question about Lena's predicament, clearly fascinated and curious about it. Lena explained as best she could, and the conversation even continued when the two of them realized they were starving, and Lena decided to cook something for the two of them. It was later in the evening, while the two of them ate spaghetti Lena had cooked up, when Marianne had proposed staying with Lena on a longer term basis. After thinking about it, and listening to Marianne explain how she should no longer be alone during all this, Lena agreed, and the two of them took a trip to Marianne's apartment, to pack up more long term items for her, including her laptop, which would be essential for Marianne to help research Lena's situation.

A few days later, the two of them had established a routine, with Marianne still going to work during the day, leaving Lena to do her own work, chores, research, and more importantly, rest for what was to come. Lena had already begun showing again, as predicted, and the two girls had agreed that they would continue to keep this entire situation secret from anyone else. As such, Lena once again rarely left the house, lest she run into anyone and be forced into answering awkward questions. Lena had also flat out refused Marianne's suggestion that she go to a hospital the next time she was due to deliver, for the same reason. She did not want to imagine what would happen if she transitioned into the new body while inside a hospital room. Lena knew this would once again mean she would be giving birth at home, with Marianne as her midwife, and though she hated to put her friend through that again, it was necessary. Lena therefore was very patient and accomadating when Marianne began to comment on her rapid pregnancy, insisted in touching her bump, and started making preparations. After all, Lena thought, having someone make plans in advance, as well as just having someone with her, might be helpful.

Marianne had certainly done her research into birth. Close to the end of the week, with Lena's belly large and protruding out, Marianne had transformed Lena's bedroom into a personal home birthing suite, complete with a birthing ball and even a small tub. Marianne also insisted that Lena do nothing but rest as the time for her labor grew closer. Lena appreciated all of the effort her friend was putting in for her, and was thankful that she had ultimately shared her secret with Marianne. For the first time since this situation had begun, Lena found herself not so depressed, for Marianne seemed to be able to do anything she set her mind to, and that gave Lena hope that perhaps together, they could even find a way to get her out of this mess.

A day after Marianne had finished transforming Lena's room, Lena lay in bed, on her side, moaning loudly, as pain and pressure had started up inside her as she had slept. She rubbed her huge belly as she cried loudly, which brought Marianne running into the room. "It's started??" Marianne asked, coming over to the bed. Lena nodded, her eyes shut. "It hurts, Mari, oh God, it hurts!" She whined. The contractions wracked her body, growing in intensity, and Marianne gently tried to help Lena up. "Here, Lena, get on the birthing ball, it'll help," Marianne said gently, helping her friend waddle over to it. As Lena sat and began rocking on the ball, she admitted inwardly that it did seem to help. She rocked silently, her eyes closed, changing her rocking pattern with every movement. Focusing on trying to change this every time helped to take Lena's mind off the pain. Marianne stayed with her, massaging her back, holding her hand, and whispering consoling words to her. Eventually, however, the pain became too much, and Lena screamed out! "I HAVE TO PUSH!!" she yelled, and cried as the weight of the baby pressed on her hips. Marianne had, in advance, filled the tub in the room with warm water, and she now helped Lena slowly into this water, hoping that would ease the pain. Lena sighed as she felt the water warm her entire body. She still felt pain and pressure, but it was not as bad. "Thanks, Mari," she breathed to her friend. Marianne only shook her head, and then Lena said, "For everything!!" Marianne was about to respond, telling Lena there was no other place she would rather be, when Lena let out a moan and thrashed around in the water. "I FEEL IT COMING!!" Lena screeched. "Push, Lena!!" Marianne coached. Lena pushed and pushed, gripping the edges of the tub tightly. Marianne rubbed Lena's legs while simultaneously holding them open. "I already see the head, Lena," Marianne cried happily. "You're doing great!!" "Uuuuggghhhh," Lena groaned as she gave another push. With the head hanging halfway out of her vagina, Lena threw her head back against the head of the tub, panting. "I don't know how much longer I can do this," she breathed. "You've got this, Lena," Marianne reassured her. "Just a bit more!!" Lena felt another contraction and began to push, then screamed and thrashed as the burning hit her vagina full force. "AAAAHHH, IT'S CROWNING!!" Lena yelled, as Marianne tried to calm her down. After another minute of Lena's screams echoing through the room, there was a loud splash as the baby emerged from her into the water. As Lena collapsed in relief, Marianne lifted the baby out and placed her on the bed. "You did it, Lena," Marianne cried happily.

Marianne had helped Lena to the bed and moved the baby to another bed on the other side of the room. Lena fell asleep almost immediately, tired from giving birth, and Marianne was determined to watch everything until Lena woke up. A few hours passed, with Marianne watching both her friend and the baby, and then suddenly, as she blinked, the baby was instantly a full grown Lena, with no signs of change. For a moment, there were two sleeping Lenas in the room with her and then the one in Lena's original bed stopped breathing. As Marianne continued to watch, an hour later, in another blink of an eye, the first Lena became a skeleton, still wearing the clothes she was wearing when she fell asleep, as the new naked Lena stirred. Marianne was at a loss for words as her friend got up from the new bed and searched for something to wear. When she finally found her voice again, Marianne said with an uncomfortable laugh, "Well, I guess we can keep all this stuff here, since we know you'll be needing it again in a week!"

It was two days later, the girls having gotten back to their routine, when Marianne had finally found something. She had sent Lena's e-mail to a buddy of hers, and he had traced the location of its sender. He sent this location information back to Marianne, along with assurances that he did not read the e-mail, nor did he want to know what was going on. Marianne shared this information with Lena, who felt herself tremble with excitement. "That's only several hours away from here by car," Lena exclaimed excitedly. "I know," Marianne said. "We can go and meet with whoever is in charge of that contest and convince him to lift the curse." Lena's heart sank a little. "But, that woman on the phone said the curse couldn't be reversed," Lena stated. Marianne shook her head, still smiling. "She probably told you that because it would be an inconvenience to do it," she responded. "If he or she is face to face with you, we can force them to lift it, somehow." "Don't worry!" "Soon, it's all gonna work out fine, I just know it!" As Lena throught to herself, wondering if she dared to get her hopes up, Marianne checked her watch. "I have a busy workday today, but I'm off tomorrow," she said. "We can go then!"

The next day, the two of them woke up early, had a quick breakfast, and then got in Marianne's car, to begin their five hour drive to the location in Marianne's information. Lena already had a small bump again, which had motivated the girls to start their trip as quickly as possible. As Marianne drove, Lena sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly rubbing her little belly as the two of them discussed what they would say to whoever they were about to meet. Eventually, since they had very little information to go on, the girls exhausted this subject and began discussing other things, like what their future plans were. Lena, hopeful that this curse would be gone soon, wished to pursue a career in writing. Perhaps she would turn this experience into a story of some sort. Marianne, meanwhile, did not seem to have any future plans, having always mostly lived in the moment and had never really thought about it. Eventually, after five hours, they stopped in front of what looked to be an old house, and Marianne confirmed from her notes that this was the location.

The two girls entered the house, finding the door unlocked. They found themselves in a large open living room, with a few chairs placed around and a fireplace against the wall. Sitting on top of the fireplace were several lit candles. As the two girls looked around the room, they noticed that the place was lit only by various candles dotted around the room. A grandfather clock stood in a corner, ticking softly, and a circle was drawn in the center of the room. "Woah, what is this..." Marianne exclaimed, before a young dark haired man dressed in a dark cloak entered the room from a doorway in the opposite wall. He looked at the girls, then said calmly, "You are Lena, one of my contest winners!" "WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME??" Lena blurted out angrily. "I didn't think you contest was real!" "I granted your wish, Miss Lena," the man responded. "It is quite real, and your wish was to live forever!" "But, why did you make it happen like this??" Lena yelled, as she motioned to her small pregnant bump. The man sighed. "Because, it was the only way," he responded. "I am a sorcerer, but my magic is limited." "It can't extend life, but it can create a new one, for the act of conceiving is a process that already exists!" "A bit of cloning magic, as well as soul transference, and life acceleration..." "TAKE IT AWAY," Lena yelled. "I don't want this wish anymore!!" "Reverse the spell or curse or whatever you did!" The sorcerer shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, there is no reverse spell or any way to stop or cancel my magic once applied." "What I have given you is yours forever." Lena gaped at the sorcerer, feeling as though her insides were falling. She had hoped there was a way to undo this curse, but now, it seemed, there was not. "I can't go on like this," Lena pleaded. "Please, there must be something you can do!" The sorceror shook his head apologetically, but Marianne spoke up. "I have an idea," she said, and the other two looked at her. "You said the spell could not be undone, but can it be moved or transferred??" The sorcerer stared at her. "Yes, it can be, but I don't understand..." "Then, give it to me instead," Marianne said, before looking at Lena and smiling slightly, as Lena gaped at her. "Mari, what??" She said breathlessly. "It's ok," Marianne answered. "Remember when I said this could be a gift instead of a curse if you thought about it differently??" "Well, I have thought about it, and for me, it would be a gift!" She turned to the sorcerer. "Can you do it??" "I can," he reponded, nodding. "Mari, I can't let you do this," Lena said to her friend. "Lena, please, I want this," Marianne said. "I found what was happening to you fascinating and amazing, even a dream come true." "You don't want it, but I do, so we both win!" "But, the birth... the pain..." Lena said, staring at Marianne in disbelief. "I'm not worried about that, Marianne said happily. "It's actually an experience I would treasure each time." "Please, Lena, let me do this for you, and for me, ok??" Lena sighed, and a tear ran down her cheek as a feeling of great relief flowed through her body. "Ok, Mari," she said. "Thank you!"

The sorcerer led the two girls down into a large basement room, with what looked like a large round pool in the center of it, filled with what looked like water. He instructed the two of them to take off all their clothes and then both submerge themselves completely for 20 seconds, as he performed a ritual. The girls did as they were asked and the two of them slowly walked down into the pool until they were both fully underwater. After counting to twenty, Lena emerged from the pool and a splash, the sound of dripping water, and someone trying to catch their breath told her that Marianne had come out as well. Looking over herself, Lena saw that the small baby bump was gone, her body back to its small petite form. She looked over to see that Marianne now had a small bump, which she was clutching in one hand as she spluttered the water out of her mouth. "Mari, look," Lena exclaimed, pointing at Marianne's belly. "It worked!!" "You're..." "I'm pregnant!" Marianne said, happily, looking over herself and rubbing her belly. "It is done," the sorcerer stated. "The spell has been transferred."

As they drove back to Lena's house, the two girls talked happily, both having gotten what they wanted! Lena was free, and never had to worry about giving birth again, short of actually having kids of her own someday. Marianne, meanwhile, had taken the curse, or gift as she called it. As Marianne giggled, driving happily, Lena stared at her. "Mari, I'll never forget what you did for me," she said to her friend. "Thank you so much!" Marianne laughed. "I should be thanking you, Lena," she responded, rubbing her belly. "You've given me something special, and I can't wait to experience it." Lena smiled. "I was thinking," she began, "It might be good for you to have someone around that is experienced in this situation." "Since your stuff is already at my house, and you'll need it soon, why don't you continue to hang around my place?" "I can help you when it's time, and I enjoy your company!" Lena patted her friend's belly, inwardly thinking that she'd be much happier delivering a baby every week than actually being the one giving birth. Marianne smiled at her. "You know what," she said. "I think that's an excellent idea!" "Let's start our new lives, together!!"

End!!

#rapid pregnancy #giving birth #birth

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witchyweasley · 3 years

Text

Unfinished Business ~ Ron Weasley

Pairing: gamer! gamer!Ron Weasley x fem!Reader

Summary: Ron has been gaming with his friends for too long, so you take matters into your own hands.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut, 18+ themes, exhibition (?), oral,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ron you’ve been playing for hours, I thought you said you’d be done in 20 minutes?” I sighed, flipping over on the bed behind his gaming set up. The dual screens flashed different things, one being a chat room, the other was the game.

“I will, we just have to do this before we can get off,” Ron said, not taking his eyes away from the screen.

“That was 2 hours ago, I thought we’d spend some time together tonight since it’s the first night off I’ve had in ages,” I whined. The lace set I had slipped on after my shower to surprise Ron with was now itchy and uncomfortable, these things aren’t meant to be worn this long.

“Just a minute babe,” he said, his eyes still glued to the screens in front of him. I decided to try something after another 10 minutes of keyboard clicking and him talking to the boys over headset.

Making sure his camera was off, I quietly stripped out of the sleep set I had on, finally revealing the lacy set. I threw my shorts over at Ron, landing right on his shoulder.

“What the-, oh bloody hell,” he said as he turned around and saw me in his favorite set.

“Hey,” I said, walking over to him. I heard him mute his mic quickly.

“How long have you been wearing that…” he asked, his eyes fixed on my hips as they swayed.

“Long enough, but go ahead and play your game, I know you promised them you’d finish this game,” I said, kneeling down in front of him.

“What are you- oh fuck,” he moaned out as my hands palmed his erection through his pants.

“Go ahead and keep playing. I can hear them asking you where you are,” I winked as I released his dick from the confines of his pants, pumping it slowly and feeling him get even harder.

“Hey guys, sorry about that. I uhhh, I just had to get some water.” He said as he unmuted himself, watching me in disbelief as I licked up his length before swirling my tongue around his tip, collecting any pre-cum.

He let out a low groan as I took as much of him in my mouth as I could, but quickly covered it up with a cough when he remembered his friends could hear him.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just a tickle in my throat, haha,” he rushed out in response to the boy’s questions.

I bobbed my head and hollowed my cheeks as I took more of his length in my mouth, swirling my tongue on the tip as I reached the top. His hand pushed my hair into a makeshift ponytail, lightly pulling on my hair the way I like.

I looked up at him and found his head dropped back and mouth open as he tried to hold back his moans. Right as he started to buck his hips up, I released him from my mouth and sat back on my heels.

“How’s the game going babe?” I smirked, pumping his length in my hand as I look up at him.

“...tell her we say hi!” I heard Harry say over headset.

“Actually, why don’t you tell her yourself. Here you go babe, the boys want to talk to you,” Ron smirked, pulling the headset off and placing it on me.

“Hey…” I said slowly, confused at the smirk on Ron’s face. Ron stood me up and swiftly switched so that I was in the chair and he was kneeling on the ground.

“Hey! How have you been?” Harry responded.

“I’ve been...great!” I breathed out as Ron’s hands slid up and pushed my legs up so they would rest on the arms of the chair. My breathing hitched as his thumb brushed over my clothed clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles.

“How’s work? I heard you’ve been pretty busy lately,” Dean asked me.

“Oh um, yeah! Quidditch season is always busy at the hospital…” I said quickly, trying not to moan as Ron’s finger pushed the lingerie aside so he could swipe his tongue through my folds.

“Are you okay? It sounds like you’re out of breath?” Neville asked, sounding a bit worried. I bit my lip and let out a sigh as Ron swirled his tongue around my clit.

“Yeah! Yeah! I um…. I just got done working out,” I lied, bucking my hips up as Ron continued lapping up my juices.

“I didn’t know you worked out! Do you want a gym buddy? Ginny keeps trying to recruit me for it, but I don’t think I can handle that,” Harry laughed.

“That’s...that’s a good idea, but- I only just started and I think she would kick my ass,” I stumbled as Ron sat back and used his thumb to circle over my clit, smirking when I stumbled on a word.

After swiping his tongue through my pussy for a final time, Ron held my hands and pulled me up, holding me tight as his lips attached to my neck. If it weren’t for the tight grip on my waist, I’d be a puddle on the floor right now. He flipped me around so that I was facing the monitor and his back was pressed up against mine.

“Hey boys, do you mind if she plays a round while I go grab a snack really quick?” Ron said into the mic of the headset.

“Sure! You know what you’re doing, right?” Dean asked me.

“Uh, yeah… I’ve watched Ron play it enough, I think I can figure it out,” I said, a bit confused as to what Ron’s plan was.

As the next round started, he pressed his hand to the middle of my shoulder blades and pushed me down so that I was bent over in front of the desk. His hands smacked my ass lightly a couple times before he pulled the lingerie aside again and swiped the head of his cock through.

“Oh fuck,” I said quietly as he slowly pushed into me, filling me inch by inch.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I-uh, I just fell off something, that’s all,” I said.

“I hate when I do that, it’s the worst,” Neville chimed in.

I stumbled through the game as I tried to focus on something other than the way Ron’s cock was stretching me out right now. His pace was slow and steady, fully taking himself out before slowly sheathing himself back into me.

“Hmmm, is there any way to go faster?” I asked the boys, but hoping that Ron caught onto my message.

“If you press the CTRL key, you should run faster,” Harry said. I barely heard him though because Ron thankfully did catch on. He pounded into me at a much better pace, causing my tits to bounce out of the low-cut lingerie and my breathing to pick back up again. His hand snaked around to toy with one of my nipples as his other one guided my hips back onto him. It took everything in me not to scream with pleasure as he hit all the right spots.

I accidentally let out a loud whine as I came on Ron’s cock, causing the boys to ask questions.

“I died,” I quickly said to cover up the noise.

“You lasted longer than I did, I died a while ago,” Dean said.

Ron was panting as he continued pounding me, trying not to make too much noise. It wasn’t long before me pulled out and finished on the small of my back. He pressed a couple kisses to my back before heading to our bathroom to grab a towel.

“Not that we don’t love playing with you, but is Ron back yet? I feel like this is the longest he’s taken to get a snack,” Harry said once the round was over.

“Ah-ha, here he is! Thanks for letting me play you guys, I’ll let you all talk to Ron,” I said as Ron came in with a towel. He cleaned me up as the boys said their Chorus of goodbye’s before I put the headset back on him.

Ron immediately muted the mic and pressed a hot kiss to my lips, “That was quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, holy fuck.”

“Oh you’re not off the hook yet. We have some lost time to make up from earlier,” I smirked before pressing a kiss to his lips and crawling onto our bed.

“Hey guys, so it looks like I’ve gotta head off here. There’s some, um, unfinished business that I need to take care of,” Ron said before logging off and pouncing on top of me, attacking me with kisses and love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: If you want to be added just shoot me a message!

@a-malfoy @amityyyjade @amourtentiaa @dracos-apple01 @georgeswh0re @lim-bus @partr1dge @weasleywhore07 @willowestelle

#harry potter smut #smut #hp smut #weasley smut #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley x reader smut #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley smut #gamer ron weasley #gamer!ron weasley

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angelatsumu · 3 years

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gala (m. izuku & b. katsuki)

hello friends! it's been a while, but i am back with some bakugo/izuku x reader food <3

warnings: NSFW! minors DNI or i will eat your whole family. fem!bodied reader, izuku called izzy, izzy calls reader puppy, cucking, thigh riding, m! masturbation, oral (f! giving), cumeating, mean bakugo, dom!izuku & dom!bakugo, very subby!reader, alcohol mention

NSFW under the cut, also not proofread <3

katsuki is not the nicest guy when his gorgeous girl is being so clingy to Deku

your giggle rings through his ears as he watches from across the room, the way you clung to Izuku's arm like a fragile doll was driving him mad. that dress hugged your curves too tight, inching up your side with every keen into izuku, and without thinking he'd slide his hand down and adjust it for you, hands ghosting over your curves. he knew what he was doing, having pro-hero Dynamight's special girl draped over his arm like some prize, some prize he hadn't truly won. katsuki's blood was boiling, but he knew he couldn't cause a scene. after all, Deku had mentioned the gala to him, and he seemed disinterested. when you brought it up, begging to be taken to your first hero gala, he brushed you off, claiming he didn't want to show you off to the world just yet. so, here you were, Deku's prize for the evening. knowing you decided to go with his comrade, Bakugo swore he would only go to the gala to be sure you were safe, that he wouldn't get jealous. the seething was telling a different story.

your emerald ballroom gown that hugged your curves so tightly got hitched on the swell of your thighs once more, catching enough to displace the thigh slit just enough for Deku to blush. once again his hand snaked around your hips, tugging the dress down only slightly, and this time his hand held its place on your hip. a blush rose to your cheeks as your sipped from the champagne flute in your hand, eyes scanning the room for your lover. you knew katsuki too well, and you knew he would be at the event the moment you agreed to Deku's invitation. your eyes met his, and he cut his eyes at you before rolling them. you immediately divert your attention back to Deku as he squeezed you closer to him, clearly aware of your boyfriend's presence. Izuku's touch made you feel hot, the lingering circles he traced into your hips with each flirtacious giggle and stolen glance. you'd be lying if your senses weren't intoxicated on Izuku's hero demeanor, finding yourself at the end of this desire to be saved by Deku.

"how 'bout some water, puppy? you've had quite a few of those." the comment itself was innocent, but the thing that caught you off guard was the nickname that made your knees buckle. he knew, the sly smirk as he handed you a glass of water told it all. "hm, o-okay," you gasped softly, taking the water from him and having a few sips to clear your head. Deku's left hand never leaves your side as he watches you, drinking in your reaction to his words. you felt hot, like you were boiling under your skin. bakugo felt the same, more than aware fo the effects Deku had on his girl. still, he waited. bakugo was amazing at playing the long game, more than willing to edge you for hours to get a point across. still, tonight, watching your hands linger on Deku's chest, eyes gazing into his lustfully, chest heaving at the mere charisma of his friend, he knew something more than edging needed to be done.

just as you were collecting your thoughts from the gutter, deku reaches into his pocket to retrieve his cell phone. he grins when he sees the caller and immediately answers. "i knew you couldn't stay away," he starts, eyes scanning the room for your lover. he sighs contently when they lock eyes, listening to your lover's undeciphered words on the other line. "oh, i fully intend to," he remarks, a sly chuckle leaving his lips as he placed his phone back in his pocket. you look to deku with confused eyes, and he beams down at you, squeezing your hip an inch tighter. "puppy, we have business to attend to," he whispered in your ear, placing a chaste kiss against the shell of your ear. you blush deeper, nodding your head slowly and allowing him to lead you from the middle of the ballroom. he ushers you to the elevator, insisting he needed to stop at his hotel room before continuing the evening.

deku has you pressed against the door of his hotel room within seconds of entering, his knee coming between your legs to spread them apart. his lips immediately speckle kisses along your neck, moans leaving your lips. "i-izzy, please," you whine, eyes screwing closed as your curse yourself for allowing your resolve to fade. "i love it when you call me that, doll," he groaned against your skin, large hands roaming your body and settling one on your breast the other on your hip. "call him it again, teddy~". your eyes spring open as you crane your neck to see your beloved boyfriend sitting with his legs crossed in the chair adjacent to the window. deku lets out a groan against your skin, groping your breast over the gown as his presses his thigh into the gap between your legs. "you couldn't just stay quiet for another minute, huh, kacchan?" izuku grins against your skin, feeling your breath hitch as you realize your beloved boys had set you up once again. "daddy wants to watch, teddy. be good to izzy," katsuki scolds you and your cunny throbs at the command. deku's hands reach to bunch up your dress around your waist to reveal you had opted out of panties for the evening, and both boys let out a soft groan. "so you planned on fucking him anyway, huh slut?" deku directs his attention to katsuki, shooting him a warning glare as katsuki holds the menacing, shit-eating grin he normally held.

deku turns back to you lovingly, sliding you onto his thigh so that your bare cunny throbs against his toned muscle. he stood there, entranced by your overwhelmed expression as you worked your hips on his thigh, desperately seeking any stimulation to your swollen clit. "getting your mess all over my emerald suit, puppy~" he teased, earning a chuckle from katsuki. your eyes closed softly as your form subconsciously clung to izuku while you chased your release. you could feel their eyes burning into your skin, and that made your blood run even hotter. deku scoops you into his arms, carrying you to the mattress where he sat on the edge of the bed, sliding his thigh between your legs once more. he held your hips in place to halt your movement, left hand reaching to pinch your cheeks and make you look at him. "i want you to make a mess of my expensive pants, and then, you'll do the same for daddy, okay?" your eyes scan his face for any semblance of joking but found nothing. you sighed, realizing you were in for the longest ride of your life. you nod softly, beginning to work your hips over his toned thigh once more. your cunny dragged against the soft material of his slacks, the texture making your body tense with each roll of your hips. deku took the opportunity to slip your dress off of your shoulders, freeing your breasts for his lips to caress. izuku brought his tongue across your left nipple, sending a chill up your spine as he began circling and nipping at the sensitive bud. "izzy~" you whined, feeling the coil in your stomach begin to bend under the pressure of the brewing pleasure. you could hear the sound of skin slapping, and went to turn your head when izzy's hand stopped you, holding your head in place. "you look at me when you cum, bitch," he grunted, sending your body into a frenzy as your high approached. you bucked your hips faster against him, clit catching the ridges of his slacks with every haphazard rock. his words rang through your ears alongside the grunts from your beloved boyfriend's mouth, and you overheated, your orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. "good girl," deku grinned, helping you rock your hips through your high as your body slumped over him. when he was content, izuku's movements of your hips stopped, and he held you close to him as you took your time recovering.

once the heave of your chest slowed down a bit, izuku placed a chaste kiss to your forehead, but you craned your neck, whining incoherently about your lips. you needed the intimacy, even if you knew katsuki never let you kiss izuku, saying it was only meant for him. "what's this? puppy wants a kiss?" Izuku's sly eyes cut to Katsuki who crinkles his nose in disbelief, resolving on being meaner to you than had been originally planned. Izuku places a sweet, gentle kiss to your lips and you melt into his touch again, feeling the fire inside you reignite. without a second thought, katsuki had stood and scooped you out of izuku's lap, bringing you over to his chair where he'd been angrily steeping.

"you're not cumming anymore, so I hope that was worth it," katsuki groans, shoving you to your knees. "aw kacchan, come on-" 'shut up. she's my brat, and I decide when she's lost her privilege to cum'. you shiver at the idea of katsuki using your throat and leaving you high and dry. he takes his cock out of his pants, swollen pink tip oozing precum as his hand tangles in your hair. you peer up into his eyes, puppy dog like eyes of yours melting that hard exterior. "fuck" he moans, stroking himself in your face. you whine, knowing he's resolved to make you watch. "daddy~" you sniffle, realizing you crossed the line into unforgivably bad girl and he was not one to show mercy to bad girls. his hand moves quick along his member as he stares down at you, pliant and patient as your thighs rub together to create some sort of friction. "f-fuck, 'm close, you little bitch" he noticed the way the harsh name made your legs tremble when deku mentioned it, and the two men exchanged smirks as your shook from the build-up of your desperately needed release. his angry tip oozed more pre-cum as you writhed and whimpered below him, tongue lolling out of your mouth as you anticipated his release. "come here-" bakugo grunted, taking the back of your head and shoving his long, girthy shaft down your throat, the warmth sending him over the edge as he shot his seed down your throat. the harsh speed of the cum burned your throat, eliciting tears from your soft, fucked out eyes.

katsuki came down slowly, chest heaving as his gaze softened slightly as his beloved girl. "good job, puppy~" izuku whined, his own release creeping upon him as he stroked his cock to the sight before him. you held katsuki's member in your throat, leaned forward on your knees enough for izuku to see your glistening, soaked cunny. at the thought of your velvety walls, he shot ropes of cum all over his hands and fingers. katsuki pulled out of your mouth with a pop, a languid whine leaving your lips at the loss. katsuki grinned at his silly girl, gesturing over to deku. "go clean up izzy's fingers, and kiss him. make him taste himself, puppy," bakugo commanded, a blush rising to your cheeks as you crawled over to izzy. Izuku pressed his fingers into your mouth, drooling pooling and slipping out as he depressed your tongue. once you collected his seed, you leaned forward to plant your lips chastely. deku moaned against your lips, deepening the kiss to swirl his tongue throughout your mouth, definitely catching katsuki's residual seed in his mouth before pulling away with a string of spit. "even my cum tastes better than yours, kacchan" izuku smirks at him, and katsuki furrows his brows at him, sliding his trousers off entirely. "give me twenty minutes, i'll send my puppy over to you with a fresher load to taste, cum eater." izuku blushes at the thought, shaking his head as he pets your hair softly.

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theladyofdeath · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 12}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby's blogs! >> @snelbz

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

* In case you missed the announcement - we will now be posting chapters 3 days a week! Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. We hope you continue to enjoy the story!

** Trigger warning: Miscarriage.

This chapter is legit a roller coaster, ngl. Enjoy. ;)

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

Nesta stood in the living room of Elain’s house with Nyx on her hip, feeling guilty for dropping Nyx off for the night even though Elain was the one to offer.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Gives these little cousins some bonding time.” She reached out and took Nyx’s chubby little hand. “Besides, you and Cassian both need time to recoup.”

She wasn’t about to deny that. It had been a week since her not-date with Balthazar, a week since she and Cassian had uttered more than passing comments on how Nyx had acted throughout the day to each other.

Every time she looked at him, she found him already watching her and the fact got under her skin.

It became an unspoken thing that whenever she cooked dinner, she would make an extra helping and put it in the fridge for him. Not because she felt like she needed to, but because it made her feel better about their awkward arrangement. The longer time went on, the more she realized that as much as she’d been acting like taking care of Nyx together was a death sentence to her social life, he was going through the same thing.

And when she got home, she planned on making dinner for the two of them to share together. A sort of white flag of truce between them.

It was the least she could do. “Call me the second something happens-.”

“We’ll be fine,” Elain said, taking Nyx from Nesta and kissing her sister’s cheek. “Now, go. Relax. Take a bubble bath with some wine or something. Read one of those filthy books you used to hide in your closet.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed.

Elain’s smile widened.

After a tough goodbye, Nesta was heading toward her car and driving back home, making a quick stop at the grocery store just around the corner.

She quickly got all of her fixins, prepared to make one of her favorites - salmon, rice, and green beans. A glance at the calendar that morning told her he would probably be home around five, which gave her just under two hours to make dinner. Easily doable, she’d made three-course meals in less time, for much harsher customers.

Yet she couldn’t figure out why her stomach was in knots.

When Cassian came home, he opened the front door and froze. The quiet in the house unnerved him. Usually, there was some random white noise to fill the house, whether that was the television or one of Nyx’s inane toys that distracted him so well. But as he walked through the house, the TV wasn’t on and he couldn’t hear much of anything.

Until he heard a throat clear from the kitchen.

Instantly, Cassian was on alert, not liking the sound at all, recognizing who it had belonged to, but silently, he made his way into the kitchen.

Nesta was sitting at the table, a plate of food in front of her, with an identical one at the spot he typically sat in.

“What’s…going on?” He asked, slowly taking another few steps into the kitchen.

Nesta stood and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, before taking it back over to where he hovered between the table and the doorway. She held the cold bottle out to him. “This is a truce.”

“A tru-?” He took it, but shook his head, not quite understanding her. “Where’s Nyx?”

“He is having a sleepover with Seph, Elain and Azriel. Elain wanted us to have a night off,” she said, sitting back down at her seat. “So I made us dinner.”

“You made us dinner?” he repeated, staring at the plates. “For the two of us to have? Together? At the same table?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, unless you don’t want it.”

Cassian cleared his throat as he pulled the chair out across from her and popped open his beer. “I won’t turn down free food. Especially when it’s made by an expert.”

Nesta said nothing more as she cut into her salmon. “An expert?”

“You get paid for cooking,” Cassian said, picking up his fork and collecting a pile of green beans. “That makes you an expert. A professional.”

“This is a lot of compliments,” she said, watching him carefully as he ate.

“Maybe I’m jumping on board with this whole truce thing,” he said, mouth full of food.

Nesta wanted to chastise him about his manners, but bit her tongue. “You weren’t on board with it to begin with?”

He chewed slowly and then set his fork down. “Neither of us have…handled this very well,” he admitted, taking a drink from his beer. “And I’m willing to take a portion of the blame, but not all of it.”

Nesta weighed his words carefully. They were blunt, but not untrue. Sure, he’d acted like an ass many times, but she had only responded in kind. She knew she could be a bitch, and she knew she did it well. Sometimes too well.

“For this to be an official truce,” she began, holding her wine glass in her hand, swirling it once, twice, “there has to be terms we both agree on.” His eyebrows raised, but she pressed on before he could speak. “Mine are that we have to communicate. When you get frustrated or pissed at me, you can’t just bottle everything up until it all explodes. And when I get overwhelmed, I promise not to snap at you or act like such a…”

“A bitch?” He provided, when she stumbled over her words, smiling around the beer bottle pressed to his lips.

She wasn’t able to stop the smile growing on her own face, as she said, “Thank you, asshole. But yes. Those are my terms.”

He took a drink and nodded. “Okay. I think I can handle those.”

“And what are your terms?” She asked, cutting into the flaky fish for another bite.

He was quiet for a moment, debating. Nesta took a sip from her wine glass while she waited, watching as thought after thought passed across his face.

“I want to get to know you,” he said, finally. “I want to know who you are and I want you to know me.”

Nesta cocked her head to the side. It was a simple request, but Nesta wasn’t exactly good at allowing people to get to know rher. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

“A simple conversation will do,” he said, shrugging. “Over salmon and alcohol. Mostly alcohol.” He reached across the small table and picked up her wine bottle, filling up her wine glass to the brim.

“Getting me drunk so that I open up?” Nesta asked, sipping from that wine glass.

Cassian chuckled. “I would never.”

She watched her for a second, before taking another larger drink and setting it down. “Fine. Then it’s a truce.” He smirked, glancing over the table between them and then leaned over to look on the counter. “What?”

“I’m just looking for an official notice.” His smirk grew into an all out grin. “Something to sign. I figured you’d called up Tarquin and had some official documents written up.”

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolled her eyes and he chuckled, reaching an open hand across the table.

“Truce,” he said, taking her hand in his. They shook once, and Cassian was struck by how much smaller her hand was than his, yet by how firm her grip was. It was an impressive, professional handshake.

“So what do you want to know?” She asked, scooping some rice onto her fork and getting a bite of fish to go along with it.

His eyes narrowed as he thought about it and she began to wonder whether they should have laid down some boundaries. But he asked, “You went to the University of Velaris, right? What did you study there?”

Nesta blinked in surprise, not having expected the question. “Business and marketing.”

Chewing slowly, Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing culinary?”

She shook her head. “No, I liked cooking, but I never thought it would become my career. I majored in business and marketing, with a minor in communications.”

“That sounds…” He fought for the words for a second. “Boring.”

Taking a drink of her wine, Nesta chuckled. “Oh, it was,” she admitted. “The longest four years of my life, but I’ve got the pretty, little diploma with my name written on it to show for them.”

“And how did you learn about food? How to cook?”

She shrugged. “I taught myself. I graduated college and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I got a data entry job at a marketing firm and spent my free time in the kitchen, trying and testing and tasting.” She paused, and her eyes fell to her plate. “Before my dad died, he listened to my idea about starting a small restaurant, with a few of my favorite recipes on the menu. He left me the money to do it in his will.”

“And now?” he pressed, although his voice held a certain gentleness. “Are you successful and thriving?”

Nesta snorted. “I make enough to live and pay the few of servers I have. If that’s successful, then I suppose.”

Cassian nodded in appreciation. “I’d say it is. What about the future? Bigger restaurant? Multiple restaurants?”

“Someday,” Nesta said, with a longing in her voice. “And what about you? And your guitars? Surely you don’t want to be a bartender forever.”

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t mind the bartending. Good tips and I meet a lot of interesting people.”

“But?” Nesta asked.

“But,” Cassian repeated, huffing a laugh. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t exactly say that managing a bar is my passion.”

“So, guitars then?” Nesta asked, brow raised. “You’re really talented. Your guitars are beautiful.”

Cassian’s eyes shot to hers, wide as he slowly set down his fork. “Holy shit, did you just compliment me?”

Nesta’s lips pursed as she kicked his shin under the table.

“I’ve always been good with my hands. Not like that,” he said, pointing at her when he saw the smirk growing. “I mean, creating things, playing instruments, even something as mundane as making drinks. If it’s something I can do with my hands, I typically love it and nine times out of ten, I’m good at it.” There was none of the cockiness she’d come to know in his voice. Just pure explanation, and a bit of devotion. “I’ve tried my hand at making furniture and little knickknacks, but there’s nothing that compares to building an instrument from scratch.”

“And you do it all? Yourself?” She asked, taking another bite.

He nodded. “I start with a few rough pieces of wood. Sand it, stain it, and boom, brand new guitar.”

Snorting, she lifted her wine glass to her lips. “I think you may have missed a few steps in there.”

“Well, I didn’t want to bore you,” he chuckled.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Nesta asked, finishing off the last of her food.

Cassian took a minute to think about it, then shrugged, finishing off his beer. “As long as I can remember. I grew up with my mom in Illyria. They live simply up there. Music is…a way of life. It grew on me quickly. Mom bought me my first guitar that a friend of hers had made before I could even walk.”

Nesta chuckled, quietly. “Just like you did for Nyx.”

Cassian nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Another drink?” he asked, nodding toward her emptied glass.

“Sure,” she said. “But, wine is gone. I think there’s some tequila in the cabinet.”

Cassian lifted a brow as he rose. “Tequila?”

Nesta grinned as he went to the cabinet. “Make me a drink, bartender?”

Cassian laughed as he grabbed the glass bottle from the cabinet. “I can. What’ll it be? Tequila sunrise? Margarita? Pretty sure we have some lime juice, somewhere.”

“I’m not picky,” Nesta promised.

She heard him laugh. “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that, Archeron.”

“Only where it counts,” she replied, smiling at him. She picked up their empty plates and rinsed them off, loading them into the dishwasher. Turning, she found him setting a shot glass with salt on the rim down on the counter. She chuckled. “That’s not what I asked for.”

“First of all, you technically didn’t ask for anything in particular,” he said, pointing at her as he crossed the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Secondly, this is the most classic drink I can make you with tequila. It’s the oldest recipe in the books.”

She outright laughed. “That’s cause it’s just straight tequila.”

“Exactly,” he grinned and damn it, if her heart didn’t skip a beat. “I lied, no lime juice.”

“Fine,” she said, crossing her arms. “But if I’m doing sloppy shots, you’re joining me.”

“Oh, I never say no to shots,” he said, grabbing another from the cabinet.

He filled them up, and slid one to Nesta, who took the glass in her hand and held it up.

Cassian clinked his against hers, and they tossed them back.

Nesta’s face didn’t change a bit, and Cassian met her steady eyes. “Impressive.”

“Not my first tequila shot, Nazari,” she said, hopping up to sit on the counter. “What else do you want to ask me?”

He leaned down on the countertop, letting his arms lay flat. “Hmm.” He let his fingers drum quietly. “What did you want to be when you grew up? Or was it always a chef?��

She scrunched up her nose. “I was convinced I was going to be a doctor, I wanted to help people. But then I found out how many years of school was required to be a doctor. So I decided I wanted to be a nurse.”

Cassian carefully poured a couple more shots. “And what happened to that dream?”

“I found out that the sight of blood makes me queasy. Sometimes I throw up, sometimes I pass out.”

He laughed. “That seems like enough to throw off a career plan.”

“Yep,” she admitted, picking her wine glass up.

Cassian filled up the shot glasses, once more, and slid hers back to her. She set down her wine glass and snorted as she tossed it back.

“You know what we should do?” Nesta asked, and Cassian lifted a brow in question. “Go for a swim. We’ve been here over a month and have yet to use the pool that I’ve been cleaning, daily.”

Cassian took his shot before watching her, closely. “Last one in has to share their deepest, darkest secret.”

Nesta scoffed. “What are we, children?”

Cassian grinned as he pushed himself back from the counter. “Scared of a little competition? Afraid to lose?”

They stared at each other in silence for a minute before Nesta jumped off the counter, and ran up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit.

Cassian and his heavy footsteps were close behind.

It took her a few minutes to remember where her swimsuits had been packed, and from the slamming of drawers down the hall, it seemed Cassian was in a similar predicament. She finally found a two piece stuffed in the back of her underwear drawer, not exactly what she had been looking for, and hesitated before stripping down and pulling the bottoms on. Nesta was out her bedroom door before she even had the top fully tied, pulling it into a hastily tied bow behind her back. Her feet carried her as she flew down the stairs, but she froze when she opened the sliding glass door and found him already in the water.

He grinned from where he had his muscular arms resting on the side of the pool, and his hair was soaked, pushed back off of his face. With the wide smile on his face, he looked so much younger, almost boyish.

With a sigh, Nesta turned and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers in each hand and made her way back onto the lit up patio.

“I win,” he said, smirking up at her.

The tongue she stuck out at him wasn’t her most quick witted response, but she was trying not to let her eyes drift beneath the water. When she suggested the pool, she hadn’t been thinking of how much skin would be on display, for either of them.

“That’s because you only had one piece to put on,” Nesta said, sitting near him by the edge and handing him a drink.

“Hey, if you only wanted to put on one of those pieces, I wouldn’t have stopped you,” he protested, and Nesta had to hide the way his suggestive tone, those words, made her blush.

He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he popped open his beer and took a long, slow drink.

“So how about that secret?” He asked, voice lowering.

“Hmmm,” she crooned, tapping her chin. “Which to share when I have so many to choose from?”

Cassian chuckled. “You would have an endless string of secrets. Come on, what skeletons are in your closet? Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

Nesta had a lot of those, too. She wasn’t exactly the “open” type.

There was one true secret she kept though. One that no one else had known, not even Feyre or Elain. Just her and…

She hesitated and he looked up at her, caught the look on her face. “What?”

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t want to kill the mood.”

The hand holding the bottle was right next to her thigh, and he let his pinky skim over her skin. “That kind of secret, huh?”

She gnawed into her lip, nodding.

“I’ll tell you mine, if it helps,” Cassian said, looking up into her face.

She slipped into the pool, thankful the water was warm, and shook her head. “That wasn’t our agreement.”

He stayed quiet, letting her process her own thoughts.

Sinking beneath the water, Nesta re-emerged, slicking her hair back. After a steadying breath, she said, “I’m sure you remember Tomas, my ex who interrupted our date?”

The mention of their date surprised Cassian, after so many weeks of them dancing around it. He nodded.

“We were together for a long time, you know? All through college.” She wasn’t looking at him, wouldn’t meet his eye. “I got pregnant just after our senior year. I had never wanted kids, you know? Wasn't the family type, at all. Never saw myself having a family. Anyway,” she continued, shaking her head. “It didn’t matter. I miscarried.”

Cassian continued to look at her, continued to watch as she stared blankly ahead.

“I got excited about it, too, which is ridiculous,” she went on. “For a moment, for those few weeks that I thought Tomas and I would be starting a family… I actually got excited.”

“How far along were you?” He asked, gently.

She answered immediately, with no hesitation. “Thirteen weeks. It was like one day I was pregnant, carrying our child and the next… The baby was gone.” She was quiet for a moment. “I woke up one morning and there was blood, so much blood. Tom was already at work, so I drove myself to the hospital, but there was nothing they could do.”

Cassian recognized the slow blinking, knew she was reliving those slow, sad moments again.

“I was dying inside, trying to come to terms with the fact that our baby was gone, and Tomas got home and-.” She took a deep breath and looked over at him. “He asked what I was making for dinner. He didn’t even acknowledge that our child was gone and… l guess that’s when I decided to do the same. To pretend nothing happened. We didn’t really talk much about it. We never told our families, I never told Feyre or Elain. Our father died about a month later and it all seemed so insignificant at that point. But Tom and I never recovered, our relationship at least. We broke up a few months later and…” Nesta shrugged. “Life kept going. I decided to open my restaurant and never looked back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, quietly.

She finally looked at him and shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make it any less painful of a memory,” he countered.

She just nodded. “It’s how it was supposed to be though, right? Wasn't meant to be.”

Cassian took another drink as he nodded, slowly.

“Anyway,” she began, clearing her throat before dunking herself back down under the water.

“Would you like my secret?” He asked, when she turned and rested her arms on the edge of the pool.

She shrugged. “If you feel so inclined. You didn’t lose the bet.”

He leaned back, letting his arms drape across the edge of the pool as well. “When I was eighteen, I broke my back. I decided to take a year off before I started school, and was working construction over the summer to save money. I wanted to travel for a while. But then I took a bad fall off a roof. I spent two weeks in the hospital and then was stuck in my bed for another ten. And Rhys and Az stayed by my side the whole time. They put off their last hoorah vacations before they went off to college to stay with me.”

Nesta’s eyes drifted to Cassian, drops falling from her lashes. “Doesn’t seem like a secret if people know about it.”

“You didn’t know,” he shot back.

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fair. That sounds awful.”

“It was,” he agreed. “I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t like to stay still for very long.”

“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Nesta said, a little spark returning to her eye. “It was torture,” he followed, finishing off his drink. “Not being able to move. I played so many damn board games that I never want to look at one ever again.”

“Even if Nyx asks?” Nesta inquired.

Cassian gave her a lopsided grin. “Well, he’s the exception.” Nesta laughed, and Cassian shook his head. “I’d do anything for that kid. I think Rhys knew that, when he named me godfather.”

She understood that, related to it completely. Especially considering they had been named godparents together, regardless of their mutual distaste for the other. Their love for Nyx, for Rhys and Feyre, had been evident to everyone.

“I miss him,” she admitted, resting her cheek on the concrete. “I know it’s only one night, and I’m beyond appreciative, but… It’s weird not having him right inside.”

He nodded. “I get it. I do, too. I know Az and Elain can take care of him, and I’m sure he had a blast with Seph before they went to bed, but it hasn’t stopped me worrying about him.”

Nesta nodded, stretching her back. She took a drink from her beer. “Did you ever want kids of your own?”

He blew out a harsh breath and drained his own bottle before answering. “I never really considered it much, when I was younger. After my back healed, I was so focused on getting back to life that relationships and dating weren’t high on my priority list-.”

“But fucking was?” Nesta asked, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly with a shoulder. “Maybe I was interested in sex more than relationships, I’ll admit. But before I knew it, my early twenties had come and gone. Everyone I knew was getting married and had babies on the way and… I was still the one living the bachelor life and decided to just run with it.”

“I get that,” Nesta agreed. “After…everything that happened with Tomas, I never wanted that again. My date with you and my date with Balthazar are the only two proper dates I’ve been on since college.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “And have you been on any improper dates?”

Nesta didn’t answer. Instead, her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she finished off her beer.

Cassian’s grin widened. “I never knew you were such a freak, Archeron.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she muttered, which just made him laugh harder.

“I must admit, it’s nice to hear you talking about our infamous date so often tonight,” Cassian said, pulling himself out of the pool.

Nesta couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles flexed, how the drops of water streamed down his back, between his shoulders, down to his waistline and the swim trunks, which rode low on his hips. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t say anything nice about that date, did I?”

“Absolutely not, but is there really anything nice to say?” he asked, sliding the screen door open. “I mean, you were an absolute nightmare.”

She gawked after him as he went inside, and once he came back with a small pyramid of beer cans, Nesta said, “I was a nightmare? You were a complete disaster!”

He scoffed, setting the cans down and cannon balling back into the pool. Even though she was already in the water, Nesta couldn’t help the squeal that left her. Cassian was grinning when he came up for air. “I forgot my wallet. I fully intended to pay you back, both monetarily and with the best sex you’d ever had in your life, but you decided to get huffy, stomp back to your front door and slam it in my face.”

“Oh, please,” Nesta said, reaching for a can and popping it’s top. Foam erupted from the opening and she put her mouth to it before it could drip into the pool. “You were over twenty minutes late, you wore work boots and a leather jacket to the nicest restaurant in Velaris, and we ran into your fuck buddy.” She drank deeply from the can, emptying it in one go. “As for the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, I’ve become very accustomed to and am just fine with my own hand, so you’re going to have to try pretty hard to do better than I myself can.”

She wiggled her fingers in his face and before she could register what was happening, his hand was wrapped around her own. As if he didn’t already know that. Cassian had caught her getting herself off in the bathtub, a memory that was seared into both of their heads. He tugged her closer and the empty can fell from her hands, floating on top of the water.

“I was talking about the past, sweetheart, but you seem to be talking about the present,” he breathed as her chest brushed against his own. “Who says my offer still stands all these years later?”

“You’d be a fool not to make that offer,” she breathed, and she knew the scent of beer was all he was breathing in.

“And would you accept it if I were?” he asked, one hand still wrapped around hers, the other snaking its way around her waist. “Still offering?”

Nesta’s breath hitched as their mouths grew so close, too close, close enough to reach out and taste his lips with a brush of her tongue.

It was tempting.

It would be stupid. Alcohol fogging her brain or not, Nesta knew it would be stupid.

But it was tempting, and in that moment, there were very few things Nesta could think about other than his hands against her skin, his lips a breadth width away from her own, and his cock she could very prominently feel twitching against her thigh.

Nesta’s lips brushed softly against his as she said, “Try and find out.”

#nessian #snacmc #snacmc lawki #modern au #lawki #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acosf

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fleursdemeduse · 3 years

Text

Remembrance AU: Lost in the Façade

Double post tonight and back on track.

Warnings: Death ; Suicidal attempt and ideation ; Unrequited[?] Love

Words: 3.8k

Getting caught up in the affairs of the gods wasn’t something you were ever hoping to do.

You remember being absolutely terrified when you saw the wooden pillar and a familiar blond sitting at the top. Remember cursing Tubbo once more at the exile of his best friend. Remembered how much you had thought it would be a mistake. Remembered trying your hardest to not make this possibility a reality.

It hadn't been easy to sneak around Dream's back to visit your little brother. It hadn't been any easier to convince Tommy to let you do so either. He was still upset at you, but you could never be mad at him for it. He was right. Siblings don't keep things from each other.

That's why, after knowing what Dream would do to him, it hurt more that he wouldn't tell you.

Dream was standing a bit to the side, laughing, despite the forlorn look on Tommy's face. The urge to kill him again flared in your stomach and you pushed it down. Tommy needed you more than you needed the green man's death.

You nearly flew to the two, hardly feeling your feet touch the ground when your heart was beating as hard as it was.

"Tommy? Tommy, what are you doing up there?" You barely heard his sigh, but he shrugged in response and you spun on Dream. The cool night air bit your cheeks, but your blood was colder. "What is he doing? Why are you just laughing?"

Dream crossed his arms in front of himself. "Oh please, [y/n]. You don't actually think he's gonna jump, do you? He's on one life left. He wouldn't."

You didn't hold the same optimism Dream did. You turned back to your brother, sitting atop the tower before you.

"Tommy? Tommy, please come down. You're scaring me!"

"What's the point, [y/n]?"

"The point is you need to be safe. It’s going to be okay, Tommy. I promise, just come down and-”

“You’re right, it is going to be okay.” He had always wondered what it was like to have wings. He remembered some things of previous lives when he had them, but he never remembered flying. Was this how it felt? The breeze brushing it’s icy fingers through his hair, trying to coax him to fall. Was this how you felt every time you were about to die?

“Tommy!” He looked back down at you, scooting closer to the edge. You looked so small. He felt smaller. It was so hard to focus with all of the thoughts drifting through his mind. No one had come to his party, his interaction with Drista was… lackluster at best. No one cared. He wasn’t in a position of power anymore, who could blame them. You, Ghostbur, and Dream probably only cared out of obligation. He could feel the mist from the sea on his face.

“Tommy, all of us," you shot a glare at Dream, but the man stood there, unphased, "most of us love you, Tommy. We'd be heartbroken if you were gone."

"Then why has no one else visited?" Your heart felt heavy in your chest and your words died on your lips. You didn’t have an answer for the blond. You could only look up at him with eyes that slowly became more glassy the longer he sat up there.

There were flashes in his mind. Ones of him finding Tubbo in another life. The time when he was a vigilante and they had lived together, the other continuously throwing him out of windows. The one where they had become fast friends during an apocalypse. The life where they had raced together and he had fallen down a cliff side.

Tubbo wasn't here for him this time.

The feeling of the breeze brushing through his hair made his back ache, longing for the lives where he had wings. He wondered if dying this time would be like when he and Wilbur were princes. He had awoken in an orchard that was so bright, so warm, he almost longed for the battlefield again. He couldn't remember the name of it now. Blue something? He remembered the morning glories that decorated it and the apple trees that littered the orchard he had awoken in. He remembered how sweet the fruits had been. Like gapples, but with the faint taste of honey. A small part of him hoped he would return there and wait for Phil once more until the next lifetime.

Another gust of wind blew past him and Tommy was shaken from his thoughts, only to hear the two conflicting voices below him.

"I know you just want attention, give it up, Tommy. This is why you don’t scheme."

"Tommy, please come down. It's not worth it. Do not listen to Dream!"

"C'mon, just jump. I know you won't."

"You're worth more than just jumping, Tommy."

"You wanted me here, Tommy. I'm your only friend now."

"You are not his friend, Dream. You're manipulating him."

"I am just telling him what he needs to hear."

Tommy's breath hitched when you shoved the masked man before you. You didn't pvp. What were you doing?

"You are trying to use him. He is not a pawn you can just play with, Dream!"

"Oh, as if you are any better." Tommy watched Dream shove you back. "None of us know who you are, [y/n]. How do we know you're not just a pawn being used yourself against all of us? How do we know you're our friend? We all remember each other. You're a new player in a game where you don't belong."

He stood above you now, porcelain mask lifeless as he started to summon his own sword. "Let's see how many lives you actually have."

Tommy noted how scared you looked, staring back at Dream, but was shocked when you just looked up at him. "Tommy, please. You need to get down. And you need to run."

Dream's sword was in hand. "Tommy, you need to find somewhere safe. Anywhere safe. Please."

An uncomfortable feeling bubbled in his chest at your words. Like you knew what would happen next. Like you knew better and were telling him the future. How could you know when you wouldn’t tell him anything?

"Tommy, you need to be safe. It's going to be okay."

The sun rose and when the light hit you, casting you in a golden glow, he believed you.

Even as Dream ran you through with his sword, he believed you. His chest flickered with long gone pain as he watched the metal disappear into your heart.

So he jumped, water bucket ready.

He landed feet away and began running as fast as he could through the underbrush. His brain was just screaming at him to go back for you. But he knew you wouldn't be there. You'd wake up in your bed here in a few seconds like every other time they had watched you die, and Dream would have him again.

He needed to find Technoblade.

When you returned to where Logstedshire once stood, you relaxed when you saw Dream still there and Tommy gone. Water pooled next to the pole and you knew he had listened to you. The man turned back onto you and you glared back. “You’ve made your last mistake, Dream.”

He didn’t pursue you when you turned back to L’Manburg.

Gods didn’t need to hunt for anything more than fun or revenge.

"He's done it again, Phil!" You nearly screeched through clenched teeth as you slammed the heavy door that led into the angel of death’s house. The immortal barely spared you a glance and continued writing in a small leather bound journal on his desk. Each stroke of the small quill made another perfectly crafted letter, absorbing his interest.

"Take a seat, mate." Phil's voice was bewitching and you immediately perched on one of the warm seats near the fire, sucking in a quivering breath. You took a moment to glance around the familiar home to maybe calm yourself, your sudden need of keeping your composure an agonizing task.

Phil was there when you had awoken on the floor of his home after speaking with Kristin, brimming with knowledge you shouldn’t have known. The man had been alive the longest. Not quite dying, always just flitting between lifetimes on the black wings of his. He had confirmed everything when you had spoken to him about your new memories, comforting you in that special way only a dad could.

Now, as you sat in the comfortable armchair, you could see evidence of every timeline he had lived through and could pinpoint each one. A green plastic bottle, a pair of fuzzy dice, a painting of an unknown woman. She didn’t look like Kristin. There were large wooden bookcases that climbed up the walls filled with great quantities of journals. How many stories did he have to tell? The fire glowing in the hearth set off a gentle glow accompanied by a warmth that made the home all the more pleasing to be in. A small carved board held a thin, dipped stick that burned on the end, causing a delightful scent of vanilla to waft around the room. You sunk into the soft piece of furniture, forcing yourself to relax just a little.

Phil watched you from the corner of his eye. He had seen you stalk across the snowy field and to his front door. You didn’t look happy, but he didn’t expect you to be. There was plenty happening on the server at all times between the same members that were at the heart of it time and time again.

He finished his thought, setting the quill aside and recapping his ink. He’d have to go collect more soon, he was running low. Leaving the page to dry, he walked to the kitchen. His wings rustled gently as they brushed past various objects. You watched him, crossing your arms. “Phil?”

“Yes, mate?” His voice was warm and just as sweet as the vanilla in the air. Fatherly.

“Does it…” You pressed your lips together, trying to properly word the sentence. “Does me being around bother you?”

Phil’s hands paused as he went to feed the furnace to warm a kettle of water. “Why would you ask something like that?”

You shrugged, leaning further into the chair. You weren’t sure if you were trying to hide from your own thoughts or if you were trying to hide from him. “Dream just-”

“Now why would you listen to him? Do you honestly care what he thinks?” You wet your lips, thinking about it.

“Kinda? I care what everyone here thinks.” There was a soft shifting as you heard Phil lean back against the counter. “Some more than others. But I do care.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Keeps you in check from doing somethin’ really wrong.” You hummed in response. “What did he say?”

“He said I don’t belong here.” You heard a scoff.

“Well, we both know that that’s not true.” You thought of Tommy up on the final remains of the territory he had been so proud of. Had he actually gotten away? You thought of Techno, now exiled in the tundra far away from where you sat now. What would he think of your choices? You thought of Wilbur -now Ghostbur- and how, despite you yelling at him being the last thing he heard, he still somehow seemed to love you. Why did he still try so hard when all you seemed to do was help with the aftermath?

A hot mug was pressed into your hands and you looked up at the only one who knew your secret.

“It’s chamomile tea. It’ll help.” You nodded at him, sipping carefully at the beverage. “Tell me everything that happened.”

So you recounted everything that had happened that night until your entrance bright and early in the blond man’s house, including your threat.

“DreamXD’s probably not going to like that you threatened Dream.”

You could only shrug.

“What does it matter? It’s not like killing me will do anything.”

“He’s a god, [y/n]. They have their ways.” You sighed. They were definitely fickle folk. Kristin had been kind enough when you saw her, despite the near-constant migraine you were trying to slowly adapt to, and your few meetings with Drista hadn’t been horrible. But you had never crossed paths with the powerful creation god. If he were anything like Dream himself, you would hate what your first encounter would be like.

“When Drista killed me, it was the same as usual, so I’m not worried. I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs of Tommy’s spiral.”

“When she killed you?” You nodded once more. He didn’t ask anymore questions, and you didn’t supply him with any more answers.

You didn’t fear other gods after your experiences with the first two you had already been bad. They were not bad enough to deter you.

You had first met Drista when she and Tommy were finishing building the Intimidation Tower. It was an ugly thing, made out of cobblestone, and you knew that Wilbur hated that it gave away the location of the ravine, but it made Tommy happy. It made Drista happy. So you convinced Wilbur to just let it be. It made it easier for Tommy to come home when he was lost, anyways.

She had come around a lot more after that. Always attached at the hip to Tommy, always displaying godlike power, always causing mischief. She was decently polite to you, despite being younger than Tommy with a snarky attitude. But they were a good pair to watch. She always seemed to have fun with the blond, especially when he messed up. And despite how upset he seemed to be in the moment, he was always cheerful when he told you about the things he had done with her as you attached plasters to his cuts and salve to his bruises.

So why did you find her atop the intimidation tower without him?

You climbed your way up, sitting down next to her. “Hey.”

She turned her head to look at you, the familiar mask hiding her expression. “What do you want?”

“Kinda wanna know what you’re doing up here by yourself. Tommy’s asleep right now.” You watched her pull a leg up onto the ledge and hug it.

“I’m just thinking. It’s different being around you all than my brothers.”

“Brothers?” She only nodded her head. “I know about Dream, who else is your brother?”

There was a slight shake in her hand as she moved her hair back. “You’ve already met him. It’s DreamXD.”

You snickered. “DreamXD is your brother?”

“Well, yeah, why else do you think I have access to creative mode?” You hummed, looking back out at the rest of the world and away from her. You hadn’t really questioned it. You didn’t really question a lot of things about the semantics of this world. None of it ever made sense.

“Then what happened to Dream?”

“Oh, he was made, not born.” You nodded.

There was a beat, then two. It sunk in.

“Excuse me?” You heard a laugh ring from her lips.

“Why do you think we call him “Clay” sometimes? Why he doesn’t have powers? Why he shifts from life to life like the rest of them?” You took silent notice of the way she said “them” and not “you”. “He’s a creation with just as much of a soul as the rest of the players.”

You chewed on the thought. Did that make her a god as well? You didn’t ask.

“Then what were you thinking about?”

“How fragile you all are.” Your breath caught as you suddenly felt the air rush around you. You couldn’t even scream before you hit the ground, hard. The pain only lasted a moment before a yelp was heard under you and you scrambled off the bed.

Tommy was looking at you with large eyes and you muttered a small “sorry”.

He didn’t even nod at you, just shifted further back against the wall. You could never chastise someone just looking for comfort. “Y’know, it’s a little inconvenient to have you take up my whole bed while I’m out, Toms.”

“What the hell, [y/n]? I didn’t even hear you come in!”

“What were you doing in my bed? I thought I saw you lay down in your own.” You took in the dark bags under his eyes and his messy hair. He didn’t answer you, just looked away with a type of melancholy you knew you’d never hope to match. “The nightmares again, huh?”

He huffed at you, lips turning down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was such an inconvenience.” He shook his head, moving to crawl out. “This was a mistake, I shouldn’t have-”

You moved to block him, sitting on the edge of the shoddily crafted mattress as you grabbed him and pulled him back. “That is not what I meant, and you know it.” You pushed him down gently and laid next to him with an arm across his shoulders. He squirmed in your grasp. “Tommy, stop. Talk to me.”

The blond hesitated before rolling onto his side to look at you. He looked so very young in the dim torchlight. Why did he seem to have to grow up so fast in every timeline? You moved your arm to run your fingers through his hair and he relaxed under the touch.

“Are we doing the right thing? It feels like we’re on some continuous loop and I can’t even tell if I’m just doing this because we’re the good guys or because I’m the little brother and I have to listen.” You hummed, scratching his scalp gently. “I always feel left out of the loop. And whenever I’m let in, I never have a choice on whatever it is. For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something, yeah? Why does everyone keep treating me as if I were a child? And when they aren’t treating me like one, they’re acting like I have all the answers.”

You watched his lips tremble and he scoot closer to press his face to your chest and you held him there. “Why can’t they make up their minds? I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t-” His words broke as he held onto your shirt, pressing his face closer into you. “I don’t-”

You slid your other arm under his head, holding him to you tightly. If you could save him from his own fate, you would have. You two may have not been bound by blood, but he was just as much your brother as he was Wilbur and Techno’s. You would die for him. You would kill for him. You’d do just about anything he asked. You’d protect him from anything.

The gods would have to wipe your existence from everything to get to the ones you loved.

Dream stood next to his brother, floating silently with identical masks. You weren’t afraid of them, but your lip trembled despite your resolve. DreamXD cocked his head at you, as if he himself hadn’t been the one to leave you next to that river and wasn’t aware of your existence. You grit your teeth silently.

“XD.” You greeted. The god’s head corrected before he reached up to remove his mask. An “x” scar crossed his face where his eyes should have been and he grinned at you. He recovered his face once more before blipping out of sight. There would be no fight from him today, but that was a warning.

“Well then, [Y/n], tell me. What do you think would happen to you if they knew your secret? Wouldn’t it make you happy to be able to indulge in the privilege we all seem to have?” You paused, a second turning to a minute, and your heart started to sound like it was beating out of your chest. You considered the possibilities. “Well?”

Dream cursed, his brother now gone. He’d have to do this himself. He too removed his mask and you steeled yourself, crossing your arms. You stared at Dream’s face, bare from the smiling mask that everyone was so accustomed to, displaying the sneer he held special for you. Your back was straight. You were firm. Your gaze unwavering and directing back as much of a threat as his. "I can't understand why you don't like me. You basically built this land from the ground up, and you turn out to be like this?"

His lip curled and your eyes flickered to his lips for a moment before you were back to glaring into his eyes. "You better watch your tongue around me. You can’t fool me with your little “no past lives” act. And you can’t make everyone like you. I know I don’t."

"You're the first who doesn’t, then. And just because you don’t believe that I have no other lives doesn’t mean you can go blabbing to the whole server either.”

“What makes me happy doesn’t matter. If others like me for who I am now, I’m fine.” This turned his curled lip into a full sneer, and you couldn’t stand to look at him anymore.

“See? This is why I don’t like you!” He grabbed your shoulders, and it took every ounce of your willpower to not yank yourself away. “You try to make everyone else happy and leave yourself in the dust! You can’t just do that.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat when you looked back up at him, and your eyes connected once. He wasn’t angry. He was worried. You couldn’t tell if it was for you or for the lost potential, but it was something you had never expected to come from Dream of all people. “Why do you care so much? This doesn’t affect you.”

“Anything concerning my brother affects me.”

“How does this affect XD?” He released you from his grasp.

“Because you are an anomaly and you shouldn’t be here.”

“Then why doesn’t he do something about it? Or Kristin? Or even Drista?” You couldn’t ignore the way he looked away, seemingly ashamed.

“Because they can’t.”

So what did it mean when the gods couldn’t touch you?

#Remembrance AU #dsmp au #dream smp au #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #platonic!tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #unrequited feelings #tw: death #tw: suidice #tw: sui ideation #tw: sui mention #tw: arguing #angst

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Text

The General (part 10): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: this is it. this is what the end looks like.

wc: 1.5k

tw: none

a/n: WOW. This is the end. We’ve come a long way in... ten days! IT REALLY FEELS LIKE IT’S BEEN WEEKS. This is the end of Lady y/n’s and Geto’s journey... It has been SUCH a pleasure writing for you all.

masterlist

Three children come tumbling out of the carriage, tripping over themselves to be the first to dart past your mother and father to hug you. You look upon the faces of Nobara, Junpei, and Yuji with astonishment; the tears leaking from your eyes are not ones of sadness any longer. Giggles and kisses and hugs are exchanged between you all as you stoop down to greet the overexcited bundles of joy.

You look up just as Gojo and Nanami are exiting the carriage, eyes on the children with gentle smiles. Your father instantly recognizes Gojo, and holds his hands up in celebration.

“Welcome back, Gojo-kun!” Gojo begins to chatter with your father and the three children descend on Megumi, who looks helpless as they ask him too many questions to keep up with. Haibara appears seconds later, flanked by Yuta, and they greet you and Kaori with a fondness you relax into, their faces blending back into the bright paintings of your memory. It was all beautiful - Nanami, Haibara, Yu, Yuta, the children… but everyone knows that one person is missing from the environment.

“Gojo, whe--” Just as you turn to Gojo to interrogate him about Geto’s whereabouts, a large shadow passes over the sun, blocking your eyesight for a moment. When your vision returns, you watch an enormous golden dragon descend from the sky. It’s scales shimmer in the sunlight and toss reflections of rainbows around, almost blinding you to the man sliding off of it’s back.

When you see the General, it’s as if there had been a dam in your heart. The flood of emotions overwhelms your body, and you can only stand among your family and friends in shock as he approaches you, dressed in illustrious fabrics and smiling like the world was his.

“Y/n,” he whispers as everyone watches your reunion. The entire thing was too beautiful - too sweet. When he envelops you in a deep hug, you feel the weight of the world transfer over to his shoulders and ease your burden. You were no longer alone. The tears you shed fade into the silk of his purple haori, and you’re enveloped by the sweet words and tender forehead kisses of your lover.

“I thought you were dead…” you murmur into his chest, and Geto shakes his head, his hair tickling your face. You look into his onyx eyes and ask the obvious question without speaking, and his hand comes up to cup your chin.

“Let me tell you the tale over dinner, my love. It is a story that requires some nourishment.”

“Yeah, because I’m starving!” Gojo announces behind you, much to the chagrin of Kaori, who rolls her eyes at the outburst, despite there being a small smile painted onto her face.

_______________________________________________________________________

“It wasn’t an easy battle,” Gojo begins, shoving a piece of sushi into his mouth. “First of all, we were outmanned four to one. Then, when we were pushed back to the base of the mountain,” he continues, mouth full of food. “It’s like we don’t have anywhere to go but up. And that meant a slow, freezing death for a lot of soldiers.”

“They took their charge seriously,” Haibara interrupts, attempting to preserve their honor. “Their sacrifices weren’t in vain.” Yuta nods, hanging his head a little as he consumes the bowl of soup silently.

“But Prince Geto here tried one last trick that very nearly got him killed,” Gojo growls, pointing his chopsticks at Geto, who is watching his friends animate the tale of their escape and not saying a word. “Releasing all of those curses at once,” the white haired man mutters, stabbing a fish eye with determination. “That almost cost us our General.”

“You what…?” you look over at Geto, who is chickling softly.

“I released quite a few of my curses to attempt to overwhelm my younger brother, Naoya. He did quite well fending them off, but by the time he was finished, Gojo and Haibara had escaped with a little under half of our forces. I lost my way up the mountain and was sustaining a pretty large gash from the fight… but that’s when Mei Mei and Utahime found me.”

“Mei Mei? Utahime?” Kaori questions, but Gojo pats her hand, trying his best to soothe her.

“Listen, they were mountain women. Healers, really.”

“In any case, they healed me, but it took about a month before I could recover from my wounds. By that time, the Court had already pronounced me dead. However, Gojo and Haibara weren’t too far from the Imperial Palace, intent on cutting down my younger brothers and my father.”

“Your father did put up a nice, long fight,” Yuta murmurs, still not making eye contact with anyone at the table. “But it’s never enough, is it?”

A tiny hand sneaks it’s way from the bottom of the table, patting around the wood for something beside your mother’s elbow. It seems that only you notice it, but your mother looks over and notices the hand, takes a piece of fish from the spread, and hands it to the gremlin beneath the table. The hand slinks back to where it came from, disappearing beneath the wood as Gojo rambles about his trek up the stairs to the Palace doors, and how Yuta had already wounded the Emperor by the time they arrived.

“I just think it’s interesting how…” That meant Gojo did not find anything about that interaction interesting.

You look over to Suguru and place your hand on his underneath the table. He looks back at you and grins widely, gripping your fingers tightly as he leans over to whisper in your ear.

“I told you I’d come back for you. All you needed to do was wait.”

“But how did you make it back to Palace, Geto?” your father asks, frowning. Geto’s eyes look up at the group’s collective gaze.

“I made it down the mountain with ease, and rode my rainbow dragon curse all the way there.”

“How long did that take?” Toji wonders, and your mother is holding her hand over mouth, obviously trying not to laugh as another small hand appears next to Toji’s elbow.

“A day.” Toji hands the little fingers a rice ball from his plate without bothering to look, and it disappears just as quickly as it appeared beneath the table. “It was the longest day of my life.”

“And you made it back just in time to save me from a pretty nasty fate,” Yuta laughs.

“Basically, Geto promised to not wipe the whole Imperial Court out if his father would reinstate him as the eldest son, give him his birthright, and…” Gojo thinks, tilting his head back to find the final piece of the puzzle.

“And give him control over the villages he had acquired.” Nanami finishes for him, surreptitiously sliding a piece of tonkatsu underneath the table, and Gojo snaps his fingers in response to the addition.

“Right, that. So, the Emperor said ‘yes’ because it was either that or die, and then we had the camp join us in the compounds surrounding the Imperial Palace. Geto was crowned Prince pretty quickly after that, and then presented to all of the villages one by one as the next in line for the throne. And here we are,” Gojo pauses, frowning suddenly. “Can someone tell me why I feel little fingers on my legs?”

Children snickering echoes from underneath the table, and you try to hold in a laugh, pressing your lips together tightly and feeling little fingers pat your feet, then slide up to pat the table beside you in search of another morsel of food.

_______________________________________________________________________

The night comes quicker than you expected, and you find yourself standing in front of the moonlit window, held from behind by Suguru. He’s littering kisses down your neck and you’re relishing in his touch, your skin feeling like it hadn’t been caressed in ages.

“You’re even more beautiful than I dreamed you would be,” he breathes into your ear, and you shudder, leaning back into him even more. “I spent so long thinking about your face...” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “... your soft body...” His hands drift over your hips. “...the way you feel pressed against me like this.” You smile at his words, and he turns your face to him, blinking slowly. “I fought heaven and hell to come back to you.”

“I’m glad you did,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his, feeling your mouth part almost instantly. Suguru grips your hips and turns you to face him, pulling you closer than you thought possible. You slowly follow him to the bed, still connected by the lips, and when he sits back on it you follow, straddling his half-clothed figure in the moonlight.

“I’ll have to make up for the time we lost,” he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip tenderly.

“That’s three long months, my Gen- I mean, my Prince.” Suguru laughs at his new title, mouth latching onto yours again as he unties the fabric at your waist and pulls the shoulders of your kimono aside.

“I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life,” he speaks against your neck, sucking hard at the skin there. “That is... if you’ll let me, Lady y/n.”

“It’s actually Princess y/n, now,” you correct him, and he breaks out into a wide smile, his right eyebrow twitching up.

“Is that so?” He searches your eyes for any falsehood, and you grin sheepishly, pressing yourself against his chest.

“If you’ll let me, my love.” Suguru huffs out a laugh, and pulls you under the sheets with him in the midnight hour.

_______________________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @kamisamaundercover @jotazinha @just4readingfics @mxhi @sammytamaki @brownskinnedgirll @keelyshayee @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy @ambiguous-something @honoredsatoru

did I hear that the General is getting an epilogue?

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

Text

Sam Holland - Don't Tell

A/N & WC - This is not meant to glorify or condone adultery in any way. I do not know Sam, nor do I claim to, this is a work of fiction. This was written before Sam posted about a new girlfriend: no disrespect is meant towards her. I do not believe Sam would do this: it is fictitious. 3.5k.

Warnings - Adultery, explicit smut, unprotected sex, swearing, reader is the other woman, swearing, brief allusions to SA. 18+.

Summary - When Sam booty calls you, you can't deny him, but will sexual satisfaction be enough? Or will you always want from him what you know you can't have?

THIS WASN’T HOW YOU’D PLANNED to spend your Saturday afternoon, but Sam called, and who were you to deny him?

‘Come over at 3.’ He texted you. ‘She’s leaving then.’

No kisses, no emojis, no frills, no sign off, nothing. You’re just a nameless number in his phone. You knew what it meant. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so you know the drill, it’s just not exactly pleasant.

With ample time, you left your house, your new place only a couple of streets over from the Holland household, and you walked as inconspicuously as possible. Your coat wrapped tightly around you, you refused to make eye contact with anyone on the whole walk there.

You know the drill so well by now that you know not to stick to the front of the house, but instead to head around the back—straight into his bedroom window—via the bins. Theoretically, with no one home and Sam in the living room, you could walk in the front door, but his room is safest since she has always refused to enter—’just in case.’

Your heart thuds against your chest while you hold your breath, praying not to be heard downstairs the second your feet land on his floor. You press yourself flat against the wall behind Sam’s door, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in your body clenched to the maximum. You’ve trained yourself to stay so quiet that the only sounds are your pounding, racing heart and the blood rushing in your ears.

Thankfully, before cramp can override you, you hear the words that give you the all clear.

“Bye, love!” he calls down the driveway, followed by a half hearted air kiss, a deafening crunching on the gravel driveway, and the front door at last clicking shut.

Your body finally relaxes, limbs falling loosely around you while you release one of the longest held breaths you’ve ever had.

You creak open Sam’s bedroom door, ready for him to meet you, and shrug your coat off, throwing it on the floor alongside your converse when you hear him coming upstairs. He gets like this, heavy steps and heaved breaths like they’re a strain on his body, and it usually means he’s extra horny.

“What took so long, lover boy?” you tease, standing scantily clad in his door frame, leaning against the painted wood.

His eyes darken with lust as he approaches you, his shadow from the landing already overpowering.

This isn’t like any sex or ‘relationship’ you’ve ever been in before. It’s risky, and that risk makes it so much hotter. Always leaving the door open just a crack so that the two of you could be found only by those closest to Sam, the chance of being caught together in the street on the off chance you go for drinks; after all, your reputation precedes you. But it’s the adulterous element of your relationship that makes it so fun. The fact that it’s usually after his girlfriend leaves that you’re called over to relieve his not-so-little ‘problem’, the little marks you trail across the hidden parts of his body, occasionally being risky enough to plant one on the juncture of his neck and shoulder just to test the waters.

After being together for over two years, she still refuses to do anything with him. Of course you respect such a thing: if she wants to wait till marriage and is able to resist Sam for that long, props to her. It’s just not always ideal for all party members. Sure, they’ve kissed, a little groping, but by this point, with how little Sam's lass has done with him, he’s immensely riled up.

He really likes his girlfriend, of course he does, and he’s spoken to her about this time and time again, asking why they couldn’t just do something more than a PG-12 touching session. She simply shook her head and smiled every time, “I’m saving myself for marriage, Sammy.” This infuriated him hugely. He’s been with a girl or two (or ten) before her, so is very expectant, but being twenty-two has its burdens. He isn’t anywhere near ready for marriage, but is increasingly sexually frustrated. So after an insane year of getting by with absolutely no action apart from the rare lap dance and make out, he knew he had to do something besides use his own hand to relieve the tension that was making him a complete prick.

He respects his girlfriend enough not to pressure her. Sam isn’t a bad person and so he isn’t going to coerce his girlfriend into sex she doesn’t want, seeing it as utterly immoral, so he did the only thing he could think of, and turned to the girl next door, quite literally. Not that it’s any more moral, but here you are.

As soon as he reaches you, the smirk etched upon his face is perfect, just what you expect, and his hands grip your waist tightly.

“You think you’re so cheeky,” he smirks, and his lips crash onto yours the next moment, his hands spanning your sides. His affection halts as he smacks the side of your ass. “I’ll show you cheeky.”

You don’t let him get another word in before you’re kissing him again, furiously this time, hooking one leg around his waist as the other flies to his neck, your clasp anything but gentle.

You’ve known of the Holland family for a while, living a street away, going to school with the boys and your mother having ‘neighbourhood meetings’ with the family. You, however, had had nothing to do with them, never getting involved in their ordeals, not really.

Keeping a resolutely ‘good girl’ demeanour all through school was difficult, especially when you wanted to rebel so earnestly. The first step was house parties, beginning when you were in year ten, everyone getting shit-faced and ending up giving sloppy hand-jobs in someone’s downstairs loo. That much you weren’t a fan of, so you waited until the end of school, A-Levels secured to be who you wanted to be. Trench coats, docs and chucks at every turn, short shorts and fishnets. Lots of hair dye came next, followed by a ‘scandalous’ collection of piercings, and a significant body count for someone your age, or so conservative old women perceived. Fuck them, your body your choice.

Times changed in a year and a half, though not that much. Mid way through your rebellion, you got a good job, your own place, and became a call girl, essentially. Sam’s call girl only, considering your regrettable soft spot for him.

You couldn’t care less though, even though it’s adulterous, Sam is incredible in bed. He frequently tells you the same.

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, “even when she was kissing me I could only think of you.” His lips are inches from yours with your breath mingling in the confined space of his doorway as you pant.

He hasn’t touched you yet, or even moved you to the bed. You feel yourself blush a little, scared fractionally by what he’s saying but mostly flattered. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It makes you feel like your old self is creeping in again, the girl next door that no one fell for.

“I like it when you get all shy on me, really naïve, shows me you’re a human and not just a sex goddess. My sex goddess.”

You pull his lips to yours with a burning passion, desperate to feel him up against you. Your palms settle this time on Sam's cheeks, angling his face to get the most out of the kiss, and your hold remains resolute so that he can’t pull away easily. This isn’t your dominance though, simply a ploy to hide your flushed cheeks from his prying eyes, the blush that’s been caused by his kind words. You want to keep him here long enough that you can claim the blush is from the breathlessness and the actions of his tongue slipping inside your mouth with an urgency you haven’t felt with him for a while. Is this the day that changes everything?

He backs you to the bed, walking unsteadily, and pushes you down onto the springy mattress. It pitches beneath you as he joins you, sitting by your side, his hand gravitating towards your thigh.

“Hey, what is it?” you ask, a slight hesitant stammer to your words.

“Nothing,” he sulks. “Just dunno how long I can keep doing this.”

His baleful eyes hover over your decolletage, and before you can protest and try to get him to open up about the whole situation, discussing the fact that maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead and come clean (because to be fair, it’s beginning to weight on your conscience too, even though you’ve never met said girlfriend), he kisses you, pinching your nipple through your bra until it forms a pebbled bud.

“Gonna take it all out on you,” he hisses, moving his kisses to your jaw. “All this pent up need from missing your body. God, feel so good beneath me.”

He swings a leg over to straddle your legs, and begins a ferocious attack on your neck with his teeth. You’ll have fun at work tomorrow, trying to hide them from your co-workers, one of them (on a temp basis, at least) being Sam’s twin. Harry cottoned on pretty easy, and won’t say a word, because he doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s temper when he’s been denied sex for too long. He likes Sam’s girlfriend, sure, but she doesn’t compromise on anything and looks down her nose at the lot of them, so he considers it fair play. And besides, with his track record, he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

Unwittingly, your hips buck up to meet his, feeling his throbbing need pressing against your pelvis, only for him to draw his body away from you, a bruising kiss being pressed to your lips the next moment. All in a flurry, your top is pulled down, your chest revealed to him.

“Bloody love your tits,” he purrs, a feral grin contorting his freckled face.

He rolls your pert bud between the rough pads of his fingers, palming at the other breast so as not to neglect it, only swapping when you’re beginning to writhe under him. His grin only increases.

“Sam… please.”

He knows what you want when you whine that way, so he sits up on his shins, and lets you tear his shirt open. Button by button, you watch as every inch of his pale chest is bared to you, his happy trail coaxing you lower.

“Get on with it, then,” he warns, clamping a hand around your hair in order to control your movements. He does this a lot, it’s his main power move. “They’re too damn tight now you’re around.”

You can definitely see that, the denim of his jeans pulled taut around his torso, the waistband of his boxers peeking above. He begins to pluck at your nipples again while you fumble with his buckle and zip, eventually tugging both items of clothing down at once. He stands, his lanky frame just a blur of white and freckles as he removes every last item, prowling back to you on the bed.

You, however, have other ideas, tugging him down with a grip on his shoulders until he’s helpless beneath you. In the time he was distracted with shucking his jeans off at last, you peeled your own shirt off and put your bra right. Sam’s a boob man, always has been, and takes great pleasure in fastening and unfastening your bras as much as he can, nestling into your chest for the time you spend together.

Since your last rodeo, you’ve gained some weight, and filled out a tad more, something Sam seems to notice right about now, especially as your chest hovers just inches from his face.

“Well? Are you gonna stare at them all day or take it off?”

This man… this man has the fucking audacity to lick his lips as one hand works on the hooks at the back of your bra, the other skimming the edges of the cups before it falls into his hands and he flings it across the room, knocking something off his dresser.

As soon as it's out of his way, he seems to forget everything apart from you, his eyes mesmerised by your chest, his mouth gaping a little, his eyes lingering on your hardened nipples for perhaps just a moment too long. You sigh to yourself, letting your knees dig into his navy comforter before your fingers wrap around his hand and place it onto your right breast. You know that, if you let him stare long enough, you’ll get nothing done. You need this release as much as he does. He takes the message, though, and begins kneading the flesh with a need you haven’t seen from him before. You even catch a wolfish grin when your face contorts into a silent ‘o’, overcome with pleasure. He tweaks your one nipple, and leans up to capture the other in his kiss-swollen lips, lavishing kisses around the sensitive area. You can’t help your nails leaving faint scratch marks in their wake over his freckled shoulders, tracing the silhouettes beneath his skin of muscle and bone, finding constellations within the freckles until he’s quaking beneath your delicate touch…

“Why’re you being such a tease?” he whines.

He has a point, you’re grinding down on his clothed cock in tandem with his playing with your boobs, your core hovering over his hard member, but it’s only fair with the stimulation he’s offering you. Just to shut him up, in one swift move you pull his boxers down and reach down to grasp him, stroking a couple of times before inching down, swallowing his aching length into your welcoming, warm walls.

Your moans create a heavenly sympathy, even as you stop for a moment to adjust to his size a little more, placing your hands on his pecs before grinding down on him. His hips begin to move, thrusting upwards and into you, finding a satisfying pace in tandem for you both as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow.

“Baby…” he moans, reaching out with his lips puckered to wrap them around your exposed nipple, suckling viciously, hard enough to hurt just a little.

“Stand up,” you command authoritatively, with a softness to your tone despite.

He grows harder inside of you, barely suppressing a groan, but his plan fails from shock when you bend over, clenching the foot of his bed so tightly your knuckles begin to turn white.

Casting a sensual glance over your shoulder, you bat your lashes and coax him the only way you know how, a wiggle of your bum added to help convince him; “Fuck me, Sammy…”

Your gasp is shrill and loud when he enters your craving core from behind, your knees nearly buckling when a stream of expletives falls from his lips once he grabs your hips, settling there. You’re sure to have hand-shaped imprints there tomorrow, but you don’t care, and apparently neither does Sam as he continues to thrust into you at an inhuman pace.

Breathy moans escape your lips as your nails find purchase in the sheets, now crumpled in your clenched fists. The only thing that fills your ears other than skin slapping against skin is the myriad of colourful words spilling from Sam in a groan, right down your ear.

“y/n… please…” he hums nonsensically, his lips finding their way to your shoulder blade and neck, kissing you, suckling.

He’s such a hypocrite: one rule for him, one rule for you, just because he’s got a girlfriend and is too pussy to break up with her even though his needs aren’t being met. For a brief moment, your body being used for his pleasure—and bringing you simultaneous heavenly satisfaction—you’re able to forget the consequences of your fornications.

They slip your mind once again the second one of his rough hands slowly makes its way down your front, finding your clit as he begins to rub harsh circles on it.

“Fuck…” you cry out, only for the heel of that hand to press into your pelvis, the other snaking around to your neck, applying the faintest pressure. Your walls tighten around him at the double stimulation.

His hips begin to move faster, blissful moans filling the room in symphony as you both near your highs, his tip grazing your special spot on every single thrust.

“C’mon,” he purrs in your ear, “can feel how close you are…” the pressure on your engorged pearl becomes a constant, and your body begins to spasm with unbridled pleasure. “Come.”

You do, and fireworks spark behind your eyes, setting off a train reaction in your brain, your walls clenching and your body collapsing, chest first, onto the edge of the bed. You must’ve cried out at some point, but your scream became but a gasp with his hand snug around your throat.

His thrusts slow, and he aids you onto the bed by your waist, but you roll away from him, aware that he hasn’t climaxed yet. He follows you down as your fingers link around his neck, but he’s not satisfied with that—as the smirk playing on his lips, causing dimples in his freckles, tells you—so he hovers above you on his knees. The hairs on his shins grate against the duvet cover so he shifts, but your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, pulling him closer to tangle your tongues together. His erection teases your wet folds while you’re lost in the movements of your mouths, and before you know it, he’s entering you again, and your hands are getting lost in his dark, silky locks, his one hand roughly kneading your breast. His thrusts recommence at a slower pace than before, his heels digging into the mattress as his groans overpower yours in the otherwise silent room.

“Shit… oh my God—” he hisses.

He begins to move faster, so you tug at his hair, revelling in the praises he offers, eliciting various heavy moans from his preoccupied mouth in between kisses. His warm breath and the resverberation of the moan vibrate across your lips, causing your hips to rock further into his, your legs wrapping around his toned torso to give him better access to your eager core. His movements become deeper as your breathing becomes even more escalated with high pitched moans tearing from your throat each time he hits your g-spot so perfectly. The knock-on effect sends him into an even more euphoric state, and before you know it, he’s groaning your name down your ear, and painting your walls white.

“Yes, Sammy…”

Your nails leave scratch marks all over his back from the sheer height of pleasure you’re experiencing, and that seems to be what sent him over the edge, his cum seeping into you as you milk his cock. He throbs inside you, his pelvis hitting you perfectly as he thrusts lazily while emptying himself. With one final press of his long, skilled thumb and digits over your sensitive nipple and a harsh bite to your pulse point just below your ear, the bundle of lust in your stomach becomes undone as you finish once again.

Before you’re fully recovered, he’s pulling out and leaving you empty as you lie together for a moment on opposite sides of the bed, no contact other than your pinky fingers linked and overlapping in between you. Except… despite the pleasure, you’re not satisfied. Not at all. And you know, in your heart, that this can’t happen again.

“Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“As fucking if,” you mumble.

“You ok?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, just fine,” you snap, and roll off the bed, beginning to ferret around for your clothes.

“y/n, no…” Sam moves to grapple for you, “why are you leaving?”

“Because I’m done being treated like shit by you. Used as your fuck-toy when you’re too much of a pussy to deal with your girlfriend… I’m done, Sam.”

He’s up and off the bed, shucking his jeans on with great force that causes him to trip back onto the bed as you adjust your top and zip your skirt back up.

“y/n!”

“What!” you bellow right back at him.

He shuffles his feet on the carpet, and moves to speak, but his jaw just hangs open like a fish, nothing coming out.

“Yeah, I’m done here, Sam. Don’t booty-call me again.”

A weary voice from behind you calls out, “Sam?”

Shit.

This is bad. This is very bad. But what can you do? You’re the other woman, he’s the one choosing to commit adultery: why is that your problem? He can deal with his (clearly very angry) girlfriend, so livid she’s shaking, once you’re gone.

“Yeah. Your ‘don’t tell’ plan worked real good, Sammy. Karma’s a bitch,” you spit, spinning on my heels and waltzing out the door.

You mean it: you’re done. At least until he breaks up with her and undoubtedly calls back. You want him, there's no question about that, but you want him all to yourself: and that's a secret you won't tell.

#sam holland #sam holland imagine #sam holland x reader #sam holland fic #sam holland angst #sam holland x y/n #sam holland fluff #sam holland x you #sam holland one shot #sam holland smut #sam holland blurb #sam holland x fem reader #sam holland x f reader #samuel holland

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illusionsofdreaming · 4 years

Text

Oblivious

Notes: Headcanons on what if they fell in love with the super oblivious type??? *cue chaos*

Ft.: Cale, Choi Han, Alberu

Cale Henituse

this is tough. because Cale is the master of causing misunderstandings unintentionally because he NEVER EXPLAINS HIMSELF

it’s just agony for everyone around them as they watch the rom-com disaster unfold

Cale does nice things for you, buys you gifts and trinkets but never really explains what they’re for, assuming you’ll understand his intentions

you, who is completely used to Cale’s extravagant spendings, just thinks it’s just Cale doing Cale things - throwing money around

these gifts are bought with much thought of you in mind - such as the fact that the new sword is perfectly weighted for you. A little golden turtle etched onto its grip so that he’ll always be with you even when you’re fighting on the front lines

just little details and sprinkle in a little noble etiquette flirting that unfortunately, goes over your head

handmade chocolates, couple accessories, food (always)…

it just doesn’t really go anywhere for a very long time, because Cale is under the illusion that it’s going very well and you’re under the impression that Cale is being Cale. Taking care of everyone.

eventually it becomes too much for the sideline viewers - they’ll be dead before the two of you get together so they collectively pulled some strings

half of them went to knock some sense into Cale, “CONFESS UPFRONT PLEASE”

the other half went to enlighten you, because no, these aren’t just friendly gifts. friends don’t send matching rings to each other OK??

when he finally confessed and you finally got it, the others are cheering louder and celebrating harder than the two of you

Choi Han

Action more than words kind of guy

He doesn’t say he likes you so much as he shows he cares for you

Such as: keeping his eyes on you at all times on the battlefields, partnering up with you all the time, covering your weak points, being there when you need someone to talk to

others have encouraged him to confess and the good boy really did try his best

but the gods must’ve had it out for him, for every time he tried to get his feelings clear, something or someone would interrupt his attempts

in the end Choi Han decided it’s alright if he never gets his feelings across, truthfully he’s content as long as he’s able to remain by your side

until it’s not alright

you woke to the vision of him by your bedside, looking as if he hasn’t left your side for the three days you’ve been unconscious (he hasn’t)

a little shift and he’s immediately awake, gripping his sword as he scanned the surroundings with ferocious intent, the dangerous aura he released suffocating and overwhelming as it blanketed over you

the moment he realises you’re awake though, the rage in his eyes extinguished immediately and to your shock, tears pooled and rolled down his face as he shakily took your hand

his sobs were heartbreaking as he held desperately onto your hand and the worries that plagued his mind those three days spilled uncontrollably out of his lips

“I thought I lost you. I can’t bear the thought of losing another person- I can’t-“

in the heat of emotions, he poured and laid his heart bare for you to see

and regardless of how dense you were in the past, there’s no way you couldn’t see just how important you’ve become to him after this

it was a day which changed both your lives

Alberu Crossman

taking into account my previous relationship HCs for him….

Alberu’s fallen for you and decides to patiently. wait. until. you. figure. it. out.

Add in the complications of a political marriage, he knows better than to force his feelings on you

He’s always been a sweet gentleman but now he’s going to pull out all the stops and use every and all resources he has at hand to woo your socks off

Coordinating your clothes to match, making appearances together in public, inviting you to join meetings or making time in his packed schedule to spend with you

The purpose is to show the public that he is very much endeared to his partner

Meanwhile, oblivious you is panicking behind a facade of calmness

Is he flirting??? Is this another one of his elaborate plans to secure support that you have yet to be informed of? Should you act along?

If you go down that route and act like the world’s most happily married couple in public - know that it’s literally killing him inside. He’s already head over heels how is he going to resist from kissing you now??? Are you temptation incarnate?

The fact he knows you’re only acting this way because of a misunderstanding is so cruel

Cale (the son of a bitch) sniggers at his misery and offers 0 help (“It’s your mess. Sounds bothersome.”)

Would plan and stage a sabotaged assassination attempt on his person, so that he would have an excuse to move the both of you into a shared bedroom

“Please bear with the discomfort for a while. It’s easier for the guards to protect us both if we’re in the same place.”

As a gentleman he’d very quickly and firmly offered to sleep on the couch

You of course scoffed at the ridiculous idea and told him that the bed is big enough for two and you trusted him

He’s very much charmed by your innocence, wry his smile was as he thought - if only you knew

(for the longest time, Alberu had to take extra naps during work, for the tantalising warmth of your body, so close and yet so far kept him awake for many nights in a row.)

Anyways, it worked out eventually, even if at times, he felt like he’s about to lose his sanity

(Cale scoffs, knowing that the ridiculous situation would’ve been less complicated and resolved much sooner if the two of them had been honest about their feelings in the first place.)

#trash of the count's family #tcf #cale henituse #choi han #alberu crossman #headcanons #oblivious s/o #oblivious reader #fluff #was tempted to write them as imagines #maybe one day #if people are actually interested #maybe a little blurb or something #but also #i think they do well as these silly hcs #tcf x reader

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luimagines · 3 years

Text

100 Follower Prize

The winner of the raffle that was held a while ago was @twilightpoison!

And they have requested a scenario with Legend, Twilight and Wind!

Also known as the trio that Time screwed up.

Content under the cut!

“How on earth does Wild do this?” Legend snapped under his breath as he trudged through the swamp water. He had a bit of trouble keeping his lantern above the water but he led the way.

It was cold and wet and the water had seeped all the way through his boots and had seeped into his socks.

Everything was uncomfortable and smelly and there was no way to tell if there were any monsters nearby.

Twilight followed closely behind the Veteran with Wind clinging closely onto his back. It was arguably the longest piggyback ride Twilight had ever given but compared to Legend and Twilight, Wind was going to struggle more with getting through the water.

It came up above Legend’s knees and just beyond Twilight’s mid shin. The three of them had quickly decided to let Wind on top of Twilight because it would be close to the youngest’s hips.

“Beats me.” Twilight shrugged to the best of his ability. “I’m sure he has some special suit or armor the help him out in something like this.”

“I just wonder where the others are.” Wind shifts from his spot on Twilight’s back, leaning just a bit over his shoulder. “I hope they’re ok. It’s not like we get separated every time we switch worlds.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.” Twilight sighs. “They can take care of themselves.”

Legend grumbles to himself as they splash and trudge through the swamp. Twilight catches some less than savory words fall from his lips but considering they’re too low for the youngest to hear, he lets him have it. He can understand the sentiment even if he wouldn’t choose those words to describe it.

He sighs and adjusts Wind once more against his back.

Wind shifts as a response and he can feel Wind look behind them. “What if there are monsters nearby?”

“Don’t jinx us.” Legend snaps.

Twilight pauses and looks around the swamp that surrounds them.

Nothing yet.

Hopefully nothing at all.

He keeps walking.

The sun is beginning to set unfortunately and there’s not a lot of places where they’d be able to take refuge for the night without just giving themselves up completely to the swamp water around them.

“Is that a cave?” Legend lifts his lantern higher and points to the rock jutting out of the vines.

Twilight has to squint to see it but hums. “Might be. I say it’s worth checking out.”

“Yeah, I’m getting tired.” Wind rests his head against Twilight.

“I’m sure holding onto Twilight is an exhausting endeavor.” Legend rolls his eyes and once again keeps moving.

“Am I getting heavy Twilight?” Wind says in his ear.

Twilight shakes his head even if he knows he’s going to feel it for a while after he wakes up the next morning. “I can go for a little longer, Sailor. Don’t worry about it.”

Wind hummed against his head but didn’t say anything else.

The trio made their way over to the rock that Legend had pointed out and ventured inside on baited breath.

The water was still a bit higher than they would have liked but upon going deeper into the cave they eventually hit dry dirt.

The sigh of relief was palpable.

Twilight put Wind down at last and stretched his arms to avoid any cramps later on.

They weren’t in the clear yet.

Wind stood around for a second shaking his limbs all over with youthful vigor.

“What are you doing?” Legend looked over with a raised eyebrow- not amused at his antics.

“Getting some feeling back in my limbs.” He replied. “I feel like I’ve been stuck in the crows nest and have yet to get my land legs back.”

Twilight rolled his eyes and rolled his shoulder. Admittedly, he did feel a lot better without the added weight on them. “You stay here and try to get a fire going. I’ll go check if there’s any monsters in the back or something. The last thing we want is for this place to be habited.”

“You’re going alone? Are you stupid?” Legend snapped.

Twilight paused before flipping him the bird out of childish spite. “I need to make sure we’ll be safe here for tonight.”

“We need to get dry.” Legend tried to argue but Twilight waved him off.

“It will be worth nothing and even worse if we dry off now only to need to run back into the water.” Twilight tugged his pelt off of his shoulder and tossed it vaguely around Wind who was trying to get some warmth into his arms by rubbing them with his hands. “I won’t be long.”

“Don’t die.” Legend looked away and began to clear an area in the middle of the dry dirt to start the fire. “I’m not going to drag your sorry corpse through the swamp just to give you a proper burial. I’m leaving you behind if you die.”

Twilight snorted just before he left the lantern’s dim light. “I’d figured as much.”

“Don’t come back hurt either!” Wind called out after him as a second thought.

Twilight raised his arm high but didn’t verbally reply as he left the two of them alone.

Wind wrapped the pelt closer around himself and even pulled up the hood to cover his head. “I thought swamps were supposed to be in humid warm weather, why is it so cold here?”

“I don’t feel it.” Legend shrugged and began to pull out his fire rod. “We need tinder... or wood... just something to light and stay lit.”

Wind looked around the barren cave, twirling in his spot but finding nothing. “Maybe if there’s some dead leaves or twigs or something outside the cave we could use that.”

Legend groaned, loudly, but tossed Wind the fire rod. “Don’t light the whole place on fire.”

“You’re going to leave me alone?” Wind blinked and looked at the two items the older boys had given him. If he hadn’t known any better he’d say this was ominous and foreboding foreshadowing.

“Not for long. I’m still wet so it might as well be me.” Legend began to walk away, leaving the lantern behind. “Just stay here.”

“I can help!” Wind cried, making his way out of the cave.

“We don’t want to make Twilight carry you for nothing.” Legend sighed and waved him back to the spot he cleaned up. “Keep a look out for Twilight in case he comes back half dead and bleeding out or something.”

Under his breath he continued. “Of course the Rancher would be right about this but it’s only going to affect me at the end of the day.”

The thought of dealing with a mortally wounded team member put Wind more on edge than before. “Wait- Legend- don’t-!”

But he was already back in the water and Wind was alone.

“This sucks.” Wind pouted and tightened his grip on the magical item. “I hate this place.”

If Wind was tired before, he wasn’t as much anymore.

Wind walked around the dimly lit cave with nothing else to do. If he was being honest with himself he’d admit that he was unnerved by losing the group, by being stuck with Legend and Twilight at the end of the day with no sign of any other living being for the miles they’ve traveled, by being left alone as soon as they had the chance.... And well....

He was scared.

He didn’t know where he was or where his friends were and they just left him behind.

Wind didn’t want to think about any more than he had to.

So he waited and waited... and tried to keep busy by walking in circles and tossing the fire rod back and forth between his hands but the silence was not doing him any favors right now.

There was a subtle thumping noise behind him and Wind tensed up considerably. He spun around on his heel and pointed the fire rod at the back of the cave.

It was Twilight.

Who didn’t look any worse for wear.

Wind sighed of relief and put the fire rod down so that it was no longer pointed at his teammate. “You scared me.”

Twilight raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “So you were going to blast me into oblivion?”

“No! Only if you were a monster or something!” Wind pouted and stuck his tongue out. He knew it was childish but it felt right to do so and he was beginning to feel tired again so frankly- he didn’t care.

Twilight shook his head with an amused smile on his face before he looked up and noticed the other missing member. His jaw twitched and he tensed some more before trying to calmly look at Wind. “Where’s Legend?”

“Collecting firewood.” Wind looked away and back to the entrance. “He wouldn’t let me come with him even if I offered.”

Twilight took a deep breath and tried to loosen up his muscles. There was no reason to be nervous or concerned right now. He’d be fine.

Wind perked up suddenly and looked back at him. “Did you find anything Twilight?”

The Rancher shrugged and stepped closer to where he could see where Legend had flattened the space, no doubt for the fire later. “Nothing much. Just dark and more dark and no monsters. We’d be safe here the night.”

Wind nodded and went to take off the wolf peel to give it back to Twilight but was stopped halfway.

“Keep it.” Twilight waved his hand. “It’s only going to get colder.”

Wind frowned and slowly pulled it back on, but had some difficulty to get it all bunched up with one hand and actually pull it over himself once more. It was heavier than it looked.

Twilight noticed the struggle and stepped in to help, bending down somewhat to still look Wind in the eyes as he properly placed the wolf pelt and hood around the boy.

“Oh, you’re back country boy.” Legend trudged back into the dry part of the cave- boots squelching with every step he took. “Glad to see you’re not dead.”

“It’s nice to know you have so much faith in me, Vet.” Twilight rolled his eyes. “We’re clear by the way. No monsters. We can stay here until morning.”

“Oh thank the Wind Fish. I was not willing to do anything else today.” Legend dropped the pile he had collected unceremoniously onto the ground and walked up to Wind. He held out his hand only to pause and reconsider his options. He looked down at himself and moved his outstretched hand from in front of Wind to instead gesture to the dry and very flammable materials. “Would you care to have the honors?”

Wind gasped and unknowingly tightened his grip on the fire rod. Legend watched the young boy brighten at his words and knew it was a good choice. “Really?”

“Have at it. One swing should be enough.” Legend shrugged and walked away to finally rid himself of his wet and smelly clothes. “Just don’t hit us or our stuff and you’ll be fine.”

“Awesome!” Wind bounced on his toes and studied the fire rod for a hot second.

Twilight bit his lip and took a step back from the boy.

Wind didn’t notice.

Wind aimed the rod at the decently sized pile and swung the rod downwards onto it. The flame burst forth is a blinding beam of light and easily caught onto the material Legend had collected.

A somewhat concerning giggle came out of Wind’s mouth but Legend came back in time to take his weapon away before Wind felt like going to light more things on fire, whether that means inside the cave or not. “Good job.”

Wind grinned and plopped down in front of the fire, leaning back against the cave wall with his hands out in front of him. “This is much better.”

Twilight snorted and plopped himself next to the Sailor and brought him close with a single arm.

Legend watched as he shucked off his outer tunic and tossed near the fire for it to dry. He sighed and tried to sit a way away but Twilight whistled- much like one would a cat.

“No.” Legend didn’t even look at him. “I’m fine.”

“Come on Legend~” He could hear Twilight’s grin. “You know you want to.”

“I know that I don’t want to actually.”

“Come here Legend.” Wind called instead. “We have any blankets. You’re going to get cold.”

“We have a fire and I already said that I don’t feel it.” Legend crossed his arms and looked in the opposite direction.

“But you took off your layers and Twilight said it’s only going to get colder.” Wind sighed and flopped himself over Twilight’s body. “Come huddle and get over it. My sister isn’t as much of a baby as you are.”

“If you make me get up and drag you here, you’re going in the middle.”

Legend snapped his head over to Twilight and frowned. “Fine.”

He got up and walked over to the two of them, sitting himself down on Twilight’s other side and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. “I’m too tired to put up a decent fight. You win.”

“Mh-hm. I’m sure that’s it.”

“Rancher, I can and am willing to still fight you.”

Twilight laughed and instead pulled Legend closer to him with his arm wrapped around him. Legend squawked at being pulled flush against the larger man but didn’t actually put up much of a fight like he had threatened.

“I can’t believe this.” Legend scowled.

“Goodnight guys.” Wind yawned and snuggled closer into both the fur around him and Twilight.

“Goodnight Wind.” Twilight ruffled his hair through the hood before shifting to get a bit more comfortable himself. “Goodnight Vet.”

“Goodnight guys.” Legend begrudgingly latched onto Twilight’s arm and leaned his head against his shoulder for comfort. He noticed that he was actually a lot warmer like this and found himself being lulled to sleep by the calming sound of the fire and the rhythmic pressure of Twilight’s breath and heartbeat.

The three were hungry, still a bit wet and tired. But together they fell asleep by the open flame and rested with the hopes of gathering enough energy to find the rest of their friends when the sun would eventually come back up.

For now though, they slept.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse

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junicai · 3 years

Text

who taught you that?

| order no. | 4/21

| summary | Aria's Korean has improved greatly since stepping off the plane to Korea. But sometimes, the lingo still trips her up - in interesting ways.

| word count | 2.3k

| warnings | Sexual innuendos

| era | circa. January 2017

The cushions had been collected from throughout the dorm; blankets pulled from beds and from the top shelves of wardrobes to amass a large pile in the centre of the living room. The members stood around in varying degrees of formal clothing;

Some still in their clothes that they had worn for the promotion earlier on in the day, and others having stripped and changed into leggings and old shorts and faded t-shirts as soon as they had stepped foot into their home.

Aria had waited for the others to use the bathroom before she had slid in quietly afterwards, knowing that she took the longest in the shower and not wanting to use a large amount of the hot water.

Sure, the spray of water ran a little icy towards the end, but she'd read that it was good for your pores to turn the shower head cold at the end of a haircare routine anyway, so she wasn't complaining.

She'd shuffled her way out of the bathroom and into her room, where she immediately fluffed out the excess water still in her hair, leaving it damp and loose to dry on her shoulders, prior to tugging on a stolen sweatshirt and a pair of cotton shorts that had been retired to sleep status months ago.

The hoodie was warm, and Aria tugged it around her neck to fight the chill of her damp hair, shuffling out into the living room with a blanket fisted in her hand and a pillow tucked underneath her other arm.

"Do you want to just toss that onto the couch, there, and go dry your hair?" Doyoung paced over to Aria, hands taking the bedding from hers already.

"Oh, no, it's okay." Aria shook her head, moving to help him flatten out her blanket onto the carpet. They were building a blanket fort, of a kind.

The movie night had been Taeyong's idea - a bonding experience he said. Donghyuck had jumped at the idea of constructing a fortress of soft and fluffy bedding, and well. No one was going to turn him down.

"You'll catch a chill, go dry your hair." Doyoung reprimanded, gently but firmly tugging the edge of the blanket from her grip.

"My hair dryer is broken," Aria winced.

"Well why didn't you just say that?" He looked up at her briefly, shooing her towards his own room. "Go, you can use mine. I think Jaehyun's in there, maybe he can help."

Aria nodded, mollified, and made her way into Doyoung's room. She passed Taeil in the hallway, who patted her back lightly in greeting. The doorway was cracked open, so she knocked once before tentatively pushing it open.

There, as Doyoung had predicted, was Jaehyun, sitting on his bed and scrolling through something on his phone. He looked up when Aria knocked, and smiled, locking his phone and dropping it into his lap.

"Hey, Akari. What's up?" He asked.

"Uh," Aria wrung her hands in front of her. "Do you know where Doyoung oppa's hairdryer is? He told me I could use it because mine is broken," She trailed off.

"Yeah! Sure, give me a moment." Jaehyun pushed himself off the bed, crouching down in front of the storage unit beside Doyoung's bed and pulling open the bottom drawer. There, beneath several half empty bottles of varying brands of hair conditioner and toning shampoo was the hairdryer, which he pulled out with a flourish.

"There we go. Do you need help or?"

Aria shook her head. "Oh no, it's alright. I'll be out quickly, you can go join them in the living room."

"Yeah, no problem. Don't take too long though, or else I think Donghyuck will pick the movie again, and last time," Jaehyun grimaced. "That didn't end very well."

Aria could remember. Last time, Donghyuck had insisted on watching a new horror film that had recently come out in the cinemas; one that Aria never actually ended up watching in favor of burying her head in Yuta's shoulder, his hands covering her ears as the characters on the screen screamed blue murder.

Hilariously though, Donghyuck hadn't fared much better, despite the movie being his own choice, and the two maknaes ended up sharing a bed for the following three days - unable to sleep alone.

Aria agreed, and as soon as Jaehyun had left the bedroom she plugged in the hairdryer and began running her fingers through her hair to detangle any knots.

She pulled the device away from her head when the air grew too hot for her to handle, and spent a couple seconds trying to figure out how to turn down the heat. After giving up on the endeavor though, Aria just decided to get through it as quickly as possible.

She blew out every strand until it was only slightly damp and no longer dripping with water, and tugged her hair into two plaits on either side of her head.

The hairdryer was pushed back into the bottom drawer of the storage unit, and Aria closed the door into Doyoung's bedroom behind her as she left the room.

Entering back into the kitchen, she realized that Mark, Sicheng and Jaehyun had already claimed their spots on the floor and singular armchair respectively.

Looking over, Taeyong and Doyoung were leaning against the counter with Taeil; Donghyuck emerging from behind the wall to join them.

Aria padded over to the second group, wanting to grab a glass of water prior to settling down for the movie and becoming reluctant to move less she lose her comfortable position.

As she made her way across into the kitchen, she caught the tail end of Donghyuck's whining tirade, his hands clutching onto the back of Doyoung's sweatshirt.

"But hyung, I'm hungry." He pouted, pulling on the material.

"It's late, Hyuck, you'll feel sick if you eat this late."

Donghyuck's pout deepened. "But not if I eat something that isn't sugary."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Please!"

Doyoung sighed a long suffering sigh. "Fine."

Donghyuck cheered, squeezing Doyoung in a hug in thanks. "Thank you thank you!"

Doyoung grumbled something about raising him wrong with no manners at all, placated by Taeil's hand rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder.

Taeyong just turned away, hiding his grin into the glass of water he was sipping.

"Hm," Donghyuck pondered, fingers tapping his chin. "What to eat, what to find."

Aria's head popped into the conversation. "Do you want to eat ramen?"

Taeyong choked on his water.

"What!" Donghyuck whipped around, hand landing on his chest.

Aria stumbled back slightly, eyes wide and bewildered. "R-ramen? Ramen noodles? Do you, want to, eat them?" She turned to Taeil. "Am I saying that right?"

"Saying what right?"

"Do you want to eat ramen?" Aria sounded out each syllable carefully, thinking it was an issue with her pronunciation. She was still learning Korean - it has improved greatly, but there were still issues that arose occasionally.

"Don't say it again!"

"What? What am I saying!" Aria spun, looking at the four men who were staring back at her with wide eyes.

Taeyong cleared his throat, having recovered from his coughing fit. "It's just, uh, it's nothing."

Aria's face fell. "I thought my Korean was getting better though.."

Doyoung floundered slightly. "It is! Oh it's a million times better; it's not that, Aria. It's not that at all, it's just that - that - hyung, you explain."

Taeyong fixed Doyoung with an affronted look, "You explain!"

"I'll explain," Taeil held out placating hands. "You're scaring her."

It was true. Aria's head was whipping back and forth between the two, the confused crease between her eyebrows only growing deeper and deeper.

"Aria, the phrase that you used, is, generally used in such a context that would mean you'd like to take the other person home - for the night." Taeil slowly explained.

Aria nodded in tandem. "Like a sleepover?"

Donghyuck smacked his hand to his face, dragging it down. "You asked me if I wanted to sleep with you."

Aria's shriek brought yells from the other boys.

"What!"

"What is it!"

"Who's dead!"

The three boys in the living room received no response other than a red faced Aria bursting in, immediately burrowing herself beneath a mountain of blankets and a cackling Donghyuck following her.

"What's happened?" Mark questioned, wide eyed.

Doyoung entered, trailing a hand down his face with his eyes closed. "Nothing, Mark. Nothing at all."

Mark looked over at the mound of blankets that was currently Aria. "Uh, okay?"

As the conversation faded into background noise, Jaehyun shuffled over to Aria's blanketed form.

"Ari? Are you okay?"

"Fine!" She squeaked.

"Are you sure?"

Aria's head popped out from a gap in the blankets. Her cheeks were still flushed a bright red. "Mhm! Totally fine!"

Jaehyun regarded her suspiciously, looking her up and down. Aria's eyes begged him to drop it, pleading with him not here, not here please, don't bring it up here, and he conceded.

Sitting back onto the couch, he pushed himself into the arm slightly, making room for an extra person to sit beside him without saying a word, and Aria gratefully slid out from her blanket hideout and into his arms.

Jaehyun pulled one of the blankets from the floor up over the both of them as they shuffled about for a moment, finding a comfortable position.

Taeil, who had settled onto a mattress of sorts that had been constructed on the floor with Taeyong and Doyoung resting comfortably on either side, took a look around the room.

"Is everyone ready? Drinks, snacks?" He questioned, knowing the uproar that would occur should someone get up in the middle of the film.

After receiving the general consensus of yeses, he clicked onto the movie, and pressed play.

The opening scene of Train to Busan lit up the television screen, and Aria promptly pulled the blanket back up over her head. She could feel Jaehyun chuckle beside her, and a strong arm encircled her waist to pull her against him tighter.

Aria stayed that way throughout the entirety of the film. Midway through, Yuta's hand found it's way onto her knee, rubbing soothing circles into the skin and Aria's own hand slipped out from underneath the blanket to clasp his hand in her own.

For once, she was glad that Korean wasn't her native language, because it meant that when Yuta began speaking to her in soft, gentle tones, the Japanese drowned out the Korean and made it easier for her to pretend that there wasn't a zombie apocalypse happening on the screen right in front of her.

It felt like an eternity, with Jaehyun's arms tightening around her to warn her of a loud noise before it happened, and Yuta's soft murmurs trying to comfort her.

Eventually, the movie clicked off with a light snick and the living room was plunged into darkness. With the television no longer illuminating the room, the only light source came from the moonlight peeking through the gaps in the blinds; and slowly, the members began to stir.

Sicheng and Yuta stood up, the latter patting Aria's leg once, brushing dust from their legs and bending to snag the pillows they were lying against up to their chests.

Mark slowly rose from the floor, arms raising above his head and he rolled his neck with a crack that reverberated around the room.

Gradually, all the members bar two bid a goodnight and sleepily shuffled their way back to their own beds, bar Donghyuck, who followed Mark into his bed.

The movie might not have been his choice this evening, but that didn't change the fact that he was too prideful for his own good; and that meant watching the film in its entirety, even if it sacrificed two days of restful sleep.

Honestly, she fully expected to find Donghyuck in her own bed tomorrow, or be dragged into his.

Aria, still encircled in Jaehyun's arms, was reluctant to move. Here, she was warm, and comfortable, and her bed was most definitely cold, and she'd have to move around all her bedding to find a comfortable position.

Dithering over her options, she was taken by surprise when Jaehyun tightened his grip on her waist slightly, rolling over to position her more comfortably and safely away from the edge of the couch.

"Jae?" Aria whispered when he didn't let go. "Shouldn't we go to bed? It's pretty late."

"M'no." He mumbled. "I'm tired, let's just sleep here."

"Oh," Aria thought about it for a moment. Was this what her manager meant when she said that Aria would bond with the boys eventually?

"Yeah, yeah okay. Let's sleep here."

Aria ran a hand over Jaehyun's hair once, before snuggling back down into his warm embrace.

#*moonlight café #nct 24th member #nct #nct imagines #nct addition #nct female member #nct female addition #nct extra member #superm #nct 127 #nct scenarios #kpop #kpop addition #kpop!oc #nct female oc #wayv #nct additional member au

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