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star1ight0 · 5 months

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Shouta Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada x PLATONIC KID!!

I crave comfort so here

Tw : Ed /sh

Not many people were aware of your relationship with your homeroom teacher and English teacher known as Mr. Aizawa and his loud husband Mic but they were your dad's. In the beginning of the year they both made it clear no special treatment would be given and you appreciated it a lot.

This also came with its ups and downs trying to fight the urge to hug you dad in front of class after villain attacks ect, as much as they'd both fight it they also struggled to accessively check on you when you all moved to dorms.

Having grown up always close to him after they adopted you from a abusive home. had its drags on you all You weren't entirely sure when this overwhelming feeling of despair started but it felt so shitty, you had no reason to feel this way you had a good life. Loving dads, a nice school and a few friends you hold dear to you. It was so long ago why was this still bothering you.

You remembered a conversation you had with your dad, Mic recalling how Aizawa was struggling with mental health and how it wasn't an effect of things around him but rather his brain chemistry. You looked at your phone debating on calling your family group chat to ask them for help but managed to talk yourself out of it resorting to crying on your closet floor.

After a few minutes of crying you managed to pull yourself together grabbing some clothes and deciding this was all in your head and you had no reason to feel so shitty. Heading out your room you feel a tap on your shoulder "it's past curfew kid" you turn around to see you father Hizashi looking around you you look back at him eyes still puffy "Sorry dad, just needed a shower" you say attempting to walk away when you feel a hand in you wrist "were you crying little listener?" You flinch at the childhood nickname your dad had given you "No, sorry just tired" you say pulling away "either your high or you were crying which one is it kid" He says pointing to your eyes "its nothing dad please just let me shower"

You pull away walking away leaving your dad in the hall alone. You took a long shower, trying to scrub off the memories of your past home. You get out the shower and go back to your dorm laying down on the floor ignoring the fact your bed was no more than 3 feet away. You look at your phone to see Aizawa texted you

You okay kiddo?

Yeah sorry for worrying y'all just a bad day

Are you sure

Yeah

If you say so, me and Hizashi are here if you need us. Now go to bed it's late

The conversation was short and to the point but you still felt the need to want to call him and tell him these awful feelings you were having.

A few days passed when you got an email from an all too familiar name, it was your biological mom. The very same woman who had given you physical and mental problems along with nonstop nightmares for 2 years. You had changed everything phone number, social media accounts anything that she could you to find you. Yet her name is in your inbox with a paragraph calling you names and threatening you. Everything felt so out of control like nothing you did to get away from her was enough. But she knew now, she knew what school you went to. 1-A had been on TV after all, you should have known it was only a matter of time. You looked at your phone blankly feeling your body shake and tears fall from your face. You reached for your pocket knife making a cut on your thigh it felt good like you finally had control over how you felt like you had control over something when everything around you was so chaotic. This was bad you knew that but it felt too good to want to care.

Overtime the threatening emails from your mother piled up only feeding the fear she'd find you and harm you, in turn causing more scars to be formed on your legs. You dads had quickly talked notice to you change in dimanar and talked it over amongst themselves and tried to reach out to you but it was all brushed off as a bad week or a bad day.

This began to escalate more than your lack of interest in food came about you seemed so tired too tired to even eat. This is where they drew the line. No kid of theirs would be passing out in training. They just couldn't figure out how to talk to you about this without you shutting down and shutting them out.

Monday morning training came about and you felt exhausted like your whole body was about to give out. This was only further proven when you passed out before training with Todoroki without him even activating either of his quirks. Both Hizashi and Aizawa rushed to your side as another student ran to get recovery girl. You woke up in the nurses office with both your dad's next to you looking worried out their minds.

"Recovery girl said you'd be fine.. as long as you ate and drank probably." There was a silence filled with worry and a bit of anger

"I'm sorry dad-" you were cut off by Hizashi hugging you, "please don't scare me like that kid" he said holding you as if you were gonna disappear. "Talk to us if you need to kiddo. You know we'll listen. "

You hugged him back going back to your dorm early as you were excused from all classes for the day, sitting on your floor you checked your phone to see another email this time from your biological father. Your mom texting you was one thing you knew in some way she didn't have the gut to actually hurt you but your dad, he'd hunt you down and kill you, metaphorically and literally. You felt a wave of fear washing over you and you sobbed standing up hands on your head pacing around your room crying and shaking. You reach for your knife once more sliding down the wall making a cut in an almost fully healed scar feeling that feeling of control comes back. You made a few more before stopping, taking a deep breath grabbing your first aid kit sitting in the same spot on the floor. Yeah, you felt stupid but not stupid enough to not clean this kind of thing. As you were cleaning up you heard a knock at your door

"Kid? It's us can we talk?"

Aizawa says still waiting at the door "Y-yeah give me a minute please!!" You shout rushing to put the first aid kit away and some sweatpants and throw your knife under the bed you wipe your face, and open the door

"Kid are you okay you look a little.. worse than earlier "

"yeah I'm fine just not in a great mood," you said looking at your phone placed in the far end of the bed. They both came Into your room sat on your bed and attempted to talk to you about what had been bothering you. The conversation went in circles before you placed your head in Aizawa's lap. Your dad Hizashi, was standing at the foot of your bed about to leave when he was stopped by a blood stain on the floor.

"Shouta, I think we should stay till she wakes up"

"hm. I mean I'm not against it but why ?"

He points at the blood spot on the floor and Shoutas eyes widen.

"they are knocked out right now so can you look for whatever is being used ?"

He nods looking around your room eyes landing on a pocked knife shining under your bed.

"here, I'll put it in our room," he says showing Shouta before closing it and placing it in his pocket, as he was above to leave he stopped by the light of your phone along with a name he recognized followed by a scowl.

"Shouta I'm gonna check their phone for something"

He gives Hizashi a confused look but unable to move because of your sleeping form he allows him to do so, you trusted them enough to let them know your passwords but they had never not trusted you enough to go through your phone. He opens the email, reading it and seeing ll the others. He made a face of pure disgust and walked toward Shouta showing him the inbox along with one of the emails it had.

Both had decided to stay in your room till morning, planning to talk to you about this night of unfortunate events. But this was cut short by the feeling of you hyperventilating in Shoutas lap. Hizashi gently shakes him awake and they both attempt to comfort you ultimately failing as you wake you shaking tears forming in your eyes. An all too familiar scene for your dad's to witness.

"it's okay kid, your okay" Hizashi whispered patting your head as Aizawa rubbed your shoulder.

"sorry i-"

"No apologies. We know everything so there's no need to hide anything from us anymore"

Shouta says looking up at his husband

"you could have really hurt yourself kid"

"i know I just - "You were cut off by a knot in your throat as you scrambled to find the words "Everything feels so out of control and I can control this you know?" Shouta nodded in agreement.

"Why did you come to us kiddo?

"i- I didn't want you to worry you. You guys had enough going on.."

You said your voice is still shaking between sobs.

"you'd never be a bother to us. It's our job as you parents to check on you and worry for you"

You all had a long talk about possible coping strategies and ways to communicate if you wanted to talk about something without feeling bothersome. A few relapses were bound to happen and they both knew this but did everything they could to ensure it didn't. Even if it meant letting the whole class know you were their kid so you could go in the teacher's wing of the dorms. You began slowly getting better with setbacks here and there, but by setting up a new email and talking more about what your depression episodes felt like, both your dads were able to help you through it

Yes it's messy I wrote 75% of this in one go and the other half after my shower. And it's like 12:58am

Requests are open but slow

Please reach out if you need to to!!

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yuri-is-online · 8 months

Note

"The moon is beautiful tonight" bro if someone said that to me I'd choke 💀. So here's a request ig. Octavinnle and scarabia saying this phrase in casual conversation causes like. it doesn't mean anything in twst, but yuu doesnt know that. So yuu just looks at them like

And suddenly they're being a hell of a lot more affectionate towards them specifically, which is really starting to fuck with their emotion at this point. Cause like. "I've thought of what we'd act like as a married couple a million times and you are acting exactly like that"

So now like, idk, 2 months later or something, the boys basically do a "reject me so I can move on. Or not, please not, actually"

And yuus like? We've been together for 2 months now? I thought we were taking it slow but not this slow??

He doesn't even fully remember what he said, or the context that brought it up. If someone were to offer him all the world's wealth and power he wouldn't be able to tell them what brought about this change.

If he did he might find it ironic that in your world there was a place and time where "I love you" could be translated into "the moon looks beautiful tonight." For what else could he have been trying to say?

I LOVE THIS TROPE I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH. UNREQUITED REQUITED ACCIDENTAL LOVE CONFESSION MY BELOVED. Anyway yeah sure I can do this easy. Also can someone tell me what "ig" means I am an elderly woman ☆ヽ(o_ _)o notes: they/them used for Yuu, angst with the intent of comfort, not all of them follow the flow of the prompt exactly sorry, idk if I like this one? I'm so sorry it took so long I loved this prompt but for some reason when I sat down to write it my brain fried. More fic can be found on my masterlist here.

Azul

What He Says:

You can't actually see the moon from Octavinelle, so how the conversation topic got around to it is quite lost on you. "You just don't really seem like an astrology h- person to me?" It is all you can do to bite back a different description as you try to pretend your focus is on the silverware you are rolling and not the ever so slightly disheveled octomer across the office. You treasure these times, though you have to wonder just how intentional they are. Azul always has an aura of manufactured perfection around him, so to see him with ink stained hands and a crooked tie... you wish you were quick enough to get a picture with something other than your mind's eye.

"I could say the same about you," he smiles as he speaks in a way you want to believe is affectionate "though I suppose it shouldn't, every planet large enough to host life will have a moon." Your fingers fidget with the napkins as you wonder where to take this talk, talking with Azul is a lot like a dance at a masquerade you haven't been invited to. One small slip and he has you at his mercy.

"I was surprised your moon looks so similar to mine." You try. "It was very comforting to know it still represents my deepest, truest self."

"Then it must look beautiful tonight." Azul says softly, as if he is more testing the words in his mind than he is saying them. But still you startle and drop the silverware and make him jump.

"I'm sorry?" You stumble over yourself to pick it up and see a worried Azul standing in front of you.

"I said the moon must look beautiful tonight." He says as he bends to help, so casually that he has to call out to you again to make you realize this isn't a dream.

"It is." You pull yourself up and stand closer to him than you have ever previously dared.

When He Breaks (Two Months Later):

Ramshackle Prefect: Morning Azul ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Azul stares at his phone as if he is unused to the words on his screen. His thumb hovers over the heart as if he could reach out and touch what sits on the other side and know.

You: Morning, a bit early for you isn't it?

Not that he is upset exactly, this is a lovely thing to wake up to. But it's torture, pure torture to lack the context for any of this. When you started messaging him in the morning he had been too pleased to think critically. His mind conjures up images of how sweet you could sound when half asleep, what it would be like to hear that wish from you every morning out loud instead of on a screen. He shakes his head trying to blink back the tears as he rises, these thoughts are like one of those mirages he'd heard Jamil describe before. If he looked too hard it would disappear and leave him with nothing but sand, and there is nothing a merfolk fears more than the absence of water.

Ramshackle Prefect: (｡•̀ᴗ-) Ramshackle Prefect: hehe im goin back to sleep now. Ramshackle Prefect: dont overwork urself. it's supposed to be the weekend!!!

"Supposed to be the weekend" he wants to die. His heart hammers away at his chest as reads and re-reads his messages searching for a sign of how or why he is getting these messages. It's a thankless task, he's done this every day for... it feels like years but he knows from his carefully kept notes it's only been two months one week and three days. And he does mean notes, so what if he's taken to keeping Yuu's file in his night stand it's still kept in a file which means it isn't a diary. Not that it would be a problem if he did-

Ramshackle Prefect: oh before I forget is it ok if I stop by the lounge later? I tried making a pudding and want to know if it tastes good Ramshackle Prefect: y'know to people who don't eat literal dirt

-so no he wasn't keeping a diary but maybe Jade is on to something and he should really start because he hears those are good for managing stress.

~~~~

"Not that I am unimpressed with your efforts," is what Azul says out loud with a great deal of effort "but is it just me or have you been trying to cook a lot more lately?" It had started with little sandwiches and maybe a salad on days he was still at work late into the night, dropped off with the claim that Yuu was worried he wasn't taking care of himself but they never actually stayed to watch him eat it. This was new, as if they were testing the waters of something from their position on his couch, face still puffy with sleep as they settle themselves deep into its puffy cushions and watch him at his desk. Maybe they were concerned he would not want a desert and intended to stay and make sure he didn't throw it out. That had to be it, but then why visit dressed so casually? He can count on one hand the times he has seen Yuu out of an NRC uniform, and none of those allowed him a glimpse of their actual preferences in clothing.

It's like they've forgotten who they are dealing with.

"Well yeah, it's a good skill to have." Yuu looks at him with a genuine unguarded smile. "Besides it's fun to get your opinions on my food, I don't always understand how you come up with them but I feel like it helps."

"My I didn't realize you held my advice in such high esteem." He feels much more like himself now with this information. Of course Yuu has been messaging him more, they need him for something. It might sting, but it's safe. Logical. Something he can work with. "Maybe I'll just have to start charging you, can't have you taking my secrets and stealing away my customers, can I."

But for some reason this just makes you laugh. "No need to worry about that, I only really cook for you. And Grim I guess but like I said, he literally eats dirt. I mean just the other day-

"What did you say?" Azul's voice sounds strained.

"About Grim eating dirt?" You say, and Azul finally for someone so smart and so proud on his ability to read people thinks that he might have made a mistake. "He says he's making a tier list."

"Why are you so painfully human?" His smile is strange, you can't say you have ever seen him like this before, it's a strange mix of happiness and resignation. "Your heart is so- prefect do you trust me?"

"Yes." You answer, seemingly confused as if your answer to that question shouldn't have been something he doubted.

"Would you trust me with your life? Your secrets?" He makes his way out from behind his desk to stand above you, to look down at you and confirm that for some damnable reason you are still calm. "Would you trust me with your life?"

"...only if you wanted it." Finally he sees a trace of fluster in you, finally you feel as nervous around him as he does around you constantly. He places a finger under your chin and forces you to look at him.

"Then tell me how you feel about me truthfully. Because everything you have said and done up to this point has been driving me crazy into thinking I have a chance." You blink. Once. Twice. And then a look of pure confusion distorts your perfect face.

"You- you don't know? But I thought- I mean you said-" And then suddenly Yuu has managed to jump out from the couch and the intensity of the moment stutters closer to comedy as Azul watches you curl under his desk like it's an octopot. "You said the moon was beautiful."

It's Azul's turn to blink. Once. Twice. He feels like he should be holding back tears, or disappointed in some way but- "I did say that... but what does that have to do with, anything?" You don't move and Azul considers his options, and decides to walk slowly to his desk and pick up the pudding before settling himself just out of sight from where you are hiding. And he waits, he waits for you to speak like his hands aren't clammy and he is not worried at all about what you might have to say.

"In my world when you say that it means something." You sound so small and alone, but still he waits. "I was really happy to hear you say it, but I didn't think... no I just didn't think. I'm so so so sorry."

"What did you think I said?" His mind is racing with the possibilities, but he has an idea because really what else could he have said that would explain all of this behavior?

"I don't wanna say it. It's embarrassing." You sound close to tears and Azul can't have that now can he? He crouches down to look at you curled under his desk and thinks that Floyd must have been wrong when he called you a shrimp, how could you be anything other than another octopus, waiting for someone who understood them too?

"As embarrassing as saying it again?" He doesn't wait for you to reply. "The moon looks beautiful tonight." He watches your breath hitch in delight as he fully invades your space and whispers what it looks like he should have just said all along. "I love you."

And gets to hear the one thing he has wanted most. "I love you too."

Jade

What He Says:

"And that is the Hero constellation." Jade makes sure to keep his hand as close to you as plausible, resting the back of it against yours as he uses his pencil to point at the star chart you are examining to avoid having to move it away from your addictive warmth. He delights in the way you try to suppress your shudders yet make no move to shake him off, what a dangerous game it is you have decided to play tonight. "Named after the Hero who dove into the underworld to fetch back his beloved from death itself."

"It looks familiar." You swallow and try to focus on the stars, Jade had been kind enough to offer you some "opinions" (because help would cost you and he has no intention to charge yet) when he saw you struggling to read your astrology homework. "But I don't think it was as important to astrology back in my world..."

"Oya? Your world also values the guidance of the stars?" Jade is always hard to read, but even more so in the dark. Something to do with his natural habitat you suppose, not that you are excited about the potential he sees you as some sort of prey. Not that you couldn't be if you knew just what sort.

"Well yeah sometimes. But I think it has more to do with the zodiac constellations and the position of the planets." You smile and hope this little bit of information is enough for Jade to take as payment instead of a favor but he simply hums.

"Yes I do seem to recall you saying something like that." He says with a smile and you desperately wrack your brain for how he could know that when you know damn well it wasn't to him.

You were only sort of right, he had been there, just out of sight listening intently as you described the differences in the mythological origins of the various signs and their importance in match making.

"Only in some cultures Ace!"

But you had made no mention of whether or not that culture was yours, which was all Jade really cared about. Not that he placed much interest or faith in the stars but if you did that was important data. But no matter how carefully he tried to poke the only thing you ever seemed to really like talking about was the moon. "The moon looks beautiful tonight." Jade says, bitterly, head full with ideas that he wants to give but cannot without overplaying his hand. And yet-

"Do you mean that?" He turns his head abruptly, blinking in confusion down at your flustered self. Jade knows right away that he has said something without meaning to, your reaction screams it but just this once- no he is always selfish when it comes to you. So in keeping with his habits, he drops the pencil and folds his hand around yours properly.

"Every word." It is all he can do to keep his teeth from showing as he watches you fold into him. Normally when Jade offers to walk you home you make up an excuse or outright decline, but when he offers tonight you are happy to accept. You even let him help you pick up your things and when he decides to push his luck and ask for your hand-

You let him take it. His brain is fried, the only thing he can think of and feel is the texture of your skin and the weight of your fingers intertwined with his. Neither of you speak on the way back to Ramshackle, Jade barely hears himself whispering you a goodnight as he swears you stare at his lips in the same way he always dreams of yours.

His mind works overtime as he walks back to his dorm, thinking and re-thinking his words and wondering if he has reached the right conclusion. Data, he needs more data on this change. You have let him get close to what he wants in moments of weakness before, but you have never let him touch and as much as he wants to throw himself into you and be consumed with his assumptions...

When He Breaks (3 months later):

He is long past collecting data at this point, he is just being a coward. Jade is fairly certain that Yuu is courting him... but that pesky doubt keeps creeping back in the longer he looks at them. Not that Jade is unfamiliar with doubting himself, or waiting to strike but you...

"Are you alright, Jade?" You're laid across his lap without a care in the world watching that damn moon again, completely unaware of him unraveling beneath you. "You've been spacing out a lot lately."

"I've just had a lot on my mind~" He caresses the side of your face and you let him, you even whine a bit when he retracts it and speed up his heart rate just enough to make him hyper conscious of his breaths. "Can I ask you something?"

"Technically you already have." You squirm to try and dodge his flick but don't seem too fussed by it. "But sure, what's bothering you?"

"Do you hate me?"

"What?" Oh that look of shock on your face is precious he hasn't seen it in a while. Slowly, giving you just enough space to run if you want Jade bends towards you, smiling wide and tootful as he repeats the question.

"I was wondering if you hate me dear Prefect. Because you see," he sniffles and tries to pretend he doesn't hear you groan in exasperation "our relationship these past few months has been nothing but pure torture for my poor self."

"Oh has it now." You don't sound like you believe him how tragic. "I didn't realize I was such bad company."

"Oh the worst sort." He whimpers. "The sort of company that takes advantage of the thin lines between you and does all sort of things to your poor heart."

"... thin lines?" Finally. FINNALY. You sound just as worried as he's been these past three months. He ceases his blubbering and looks at your embarrassed face properly. It's adorable, he'll have to ask for your forgiveness later for his lengthy pause admiring it later.

"Please be truthful." He whispers just a tad lower than is necessary. "And be gentle with me in your rejections so I can move on if I must but first-"

"We're not dating?!?!?" How rude you don't let him finish before you interrupt and try to run away. His long arms interrupt your retreat, pulling you down with peels of laughter (from him it's clear you don't find this funny) as he rolls you onto the grass, pinned directly beneath him. You look good like this, eyes focused entirely on him and no longer pining after the moon.

"There seems to have been a misunderstanding." He says and you try your best to glare threateningly up at him. "I can't quite remember anything I might have done to make you think we were together. Was it something I said?"

"You said... I'm so stupid."

"I don't seem to recall ever having said that outloud." You try to knee him in the groin but he pins your leg down with his own, such useful things though a tail would have made this entire confrontation much more efficient.

"Of course it doesn't mean the same thing. This is a different world." You look genuinely distraught, and though Jade doesn't regret his teasing one bit he doesn't want to keep you in suspense much longer. So he bends his face directly next to your ear and whispers.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight." Your breath hitches and Jade rolls to his side, pulling you up onto his chest before you can go back to being angry at him. "You're right, it doesn't mean whatever you think it should here. After all if I wanted to say how I feel about you I wouldn't use a metaphor."

"And just what would you say about me?" You sound so impossibly small, just as in need of reassurance as he had been just mere moments ago.

"I would say that I love you, of course." It's hard to say out loud, but worth the reward of your warmth settling into him once more, with clarity this time and no need for cowardice.

Floyd

What He Says:

Floyd has been in a strange mood lately, not quite bad, not quite good, and yet somehow very clearly not somewhere in between either. Reflective is the word you would choose yourself, but no one is really asking your opinion they just want you to fix it.

Not that you have any real clue how you are going to do that, you will be the first to admit you didn't have much of a plan when you asked if Floyd wanted to climb up to Ramshackle's roof and shoot the breeze. Not that you are really complaining it had been funny watching him try to figure out the climb.

"I though you were supposed to be good at this." You laugh from your perch waving a bag of flavored potato chips in encouragement as Floyd snorts just below you.

"I'm real good at parkour, just haven't really climbed trees before. I ain't a monkey fish." Still he manages to hoist himself up just fine and plop himself next to you with a thud that reminds you of just how much weight there is to him. He's tall and lean, his figure seems to go on forever as he stretches himself out next to you, eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a breath and holds out a hand for a chip.

You stuff it into his mouth and try not to laugh too hard when he chokes. He spits some of the chip shards back at you and tries not to smile too wide when you sputter and whine about how gross he is for spitting on you.

"Ya do this a lot back home?" It's not the first time Floyd has asked about your world, but it is certainly the most random.

"We've got stars in my world too." You snort, trying to think about just how you are going to turn this conversation around into something more cheerful. "But nah, pretty sure someone would have called the cops if they caught me on the roof at 2 am." Floyd rolls onto his side, propping himself up on his arm to really look at you as you look through your grocery bag of loot deciding which of the drinks you brought up you want to drink.

"I meant invite people to hang out real late." You stop your search to look down at him and find your words caught somewhere between your heart and your throat. Not like this. You want to say. Not for this reason. But instead you shrug and try to offer a bottle he doesn't take. You aren't avoiding the question tonight. "Ya gotta have done something for fun, right?"

"Sometimes I'd walk around a store or something." It's weird explaining stuff to a merman, sometimes they get what you're trying to say but other times they come back with "so it's like that time Jade and I got caught chasing a dolphin around the school playground and got yelled at for tying him up in seaweed" and you just have to smile and say "yeah totally" because what the hell. You're pretty sure it's not but you lack all sorts of context to try and make him understand. "Or we'd sneak out and just drive around and talk about stuff. There's- not a bunch of exciting things I know how to do I guess." If this was a normal night Floyd would roll his eyes and lie back down, whine about that's why you always make him do all the work because shrimpies have shit for brains and his plans are always so much better.

But he doesn't. He reaches over and tugs on your leg, gently enough that you can run away if you want but clear in his desire to have you closer. So you move, expecting his hand to drop but it doesn't, not until he settles his head in your lap and he physically can't keep it there anymore.

"Ya ever talk about things that matter with those guppies?" Maybe he's homesick and that's why he's so focused on this. "Things that make ya miss them?" Maybe he's just projecting that onto you since he knows you will listen and be nice about it. But then his hand reaches up and turns your head so you can look him in his eyes. They're glowing, you barely realize your own hand going to cup Floyd's cheek before he moves his other to keep it from going. "You ever miss one of em in particular?"

"Not really." How could you when Floyd looks like this? "It'd be nice to see my friends again, sure, but it's not like there's one specific person I miss." Floyd lets out a breath that it sounds like he has been keeping in for a long, long time. His hands both fall to his side as he lets you look away in embarrassment, wiggling in slight happiness when you choose to rest your hands on his shoulders.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight." Floyd's voice sounds sleepy and oddly content. Your eyes immediately snap back to him, but he isn't looking at you now. There is a a slight red tinge to his ears that makes you laugh quietly as you run a finger over the shell of one. So that's what this is about.

"It's always beautiful with you around Floyd." And finally he is looking at you with a smile.

When He Breaks (2 weeks later):

When you gave Floyd a guest key to Ramshackle he'd been extremely happy. Sure he'd acted like it was no big deal in front of you, beyond a few teasing comments about how buttering him up wouldn't get you anywhere unless you put it in writing. But back at his dorm he had been beyond insufferable, obsessing over just what color thread he should attach to it (purple for the sea witch, teal for the eel, or grey for ramshackle? decisions decisions), wanting to keep it close at all times until he had an excuse to replace it with you.

Because that's what he needed right? An excuse? Floyd wasn't exactly... shy in showering you with his affections but you. You. Until that stupid conversation on the roof a month ago you had always been sort of shy about it, if not outright dismissive. He assumed it was because you just didn't reciprocate but now...

"Floyd?" You can't really remember the last time he knocked, even before you gave him the key he sort of just let himself in. But today he knocked, only once and waited for you to open the door in eerie silence. Even when Floyd was coming over because he was bored he still managed to drag himself through the door or a window if he was so inclined.

So why not today?

"Not having a good day?" You try softly, he walks into your lounge with an eerie quiet about him. The last time you saw him something very nice happened, so you can't exactly say you are too worried but. It still sucks to see someone you care about in distress.

"Kinda." Floyd doesn't look like he had much of a plan now that he's in your dorm. "Had a lot on my mind is all."

"Aw that's no fun." You both stand doing nothing for what feels like an hour but you're sure is only a few seconds. "Do you uh want to talk about it?"

"..." And just like that Floyd feels really silly. He wanted to see you so that's why he came, but he wants to be as far away from these painful feelings as possible. "I kind of want to take a nap."

"Oh?" You don't sound surprised, but are clearly confused. Floyd begins to head towards the guest room without looking back. The guest room feels like you just enough that it can soothe his longing and distance himself from his internal conflict. "Would you like to use my room?" Or he could just not be allowed to distance himself at all because you could just say- "I've got some stuff to do but I can join you af-"

"Are you fucking serious." Floyd's voice is dangerously low and he is dangerously close to your face like you have said something wrong. "Look Shrimpy-" He swallows, like he's really considering what it is he has to say so he breathes and just goes for it "Yuu. You're killin me with this. Humans are already so fucking confusing. I give ya a shell and you get all cold for a week, and now, now you wanna sleep with me?" He pouts at you, like your suggestion had been scandalous. "'s like you think we're together or something."

"... we're not?" That's the only thing you can think to say even though the fact you have to say it answers the question for you.

"No?" Now Floyd sounds confused. "Ya- you can't do this to meeeeeeee." Despite his protests he seems just fine with grabbing onto you and dragging you into an embrace and resting his cheek on your head so you can't see his face anymore. "There's supposed to be a process to these things ya know? I'm supposed to give you gifts, and then you're supposed to give me some back and then I tell you I love you but every time I tried that I said something stupid instead. Like 'oh wow the moon looks beautiful tonight or some shit." He huffs and he puffs and he waits for you to say something. But you don't, you take a deep breath.

And laugh.

"Is this fucking funny to you?" Floyd is taken so a back he lets go of you only to find you laughing harder. You stand and reach to cup his face. Floyd doesn't like being squeezed, but there's something about the light squish you give to his cheeks that he likes, he likes a lot.

"No- well maybe a little bit. It's just, I knew. I knew what you were trying to say." Yuu says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world, like it's something Floyd should have known all along. "I owe you an apology, I should have asked, made sure you knew. In my world, it's sometimes considered too forward to say 'I love you' so instead..." You close the distance between you once more, leaving just enough room that Floyd can back away from you if he wants, "instead we say 'the moon looks beautiful tonight.'" Floyd takes in a deep, deep breath and you wait. The anger and frustration slowly fades as he exhales, shoulders sagging as he searches your face for signs.

"The moon looks beautiful tonight." He says it slowly, voice dipping low with the same strange gravity it had the first time he said it.

"It does, doesn't it?" You smile, and Floyd finally reaches for you, arms wrapped much more loosely than you ever thought possible.

"You're really mean sometimes ya know that." As if he doesn't find that attractive.

Kalim

What He Says:

Sometimes you worry about Kalim. He has this way of talking about things that, if it had been anyone else who said it, should be a major cause for concern. But because Kalim seems relatively happy most all of the time and has a family with a bunch of money no one really makes much of a fuss about it.

So when he says, off handedly, completely as a joke, that you should listen to his worries sometimes you don't give him a chance to play it off. You sit up from where you had been lying down in the Scarabia Lounge and move just a bit closer to where Kalim is relaxing so he can see how serious you are.

"Of course you can talk to me if you have worries." Your voice must have been abnormally serious because Kalim doesn't respond immediately. At first you wonder if the noise of the party behind you had somehow drowned out what you said but then you see Kalim's face. He looks conflicted, as if there is something he desperately wants to say, but instead he looks at you with a smile.

"I don't really have any." But he doesn't laugh when he says it, not that he sounds unhappy exactly just thoughtful. He doesn't move away from you either.

"Even if it's something you think might be silly," you say slowly forcing yourself to continue even as Kalim looks away "of if you're able to dismiss them. If something makes you sad for even a moment, you can tell me. I won't offer my opinion if that's not something you want, or won't help, I can still listen."

"You're really insistent about this huh?" Kalim sits up now too and you turn to look up at the stars decorating Scarabia's night sky. You wonder briefly about how exactly they might have gotten that to work when he says it. "The moon is beautiful tonight." He sounds so wistful but it's gone in a blink as he reaches for your hand and doesn't let you respond to his admission. "C'mon! Let's take the magic carpet and get a better look." You try to contain your excitement as he lets you lace your fingers together and doesn't even try to let go.

What He Breaks (1 week later):

Technically, Kalim isn't the one who breaks. He notices, of course he notices, the way you are more comfortable in seeking him out. How comfortable you now are with his casual touches, how willing you are to hold his hand and even give it a little squeeze. It's heaven, like he found the treasure cave the Sorcerer of the Sands had searched so long for. If it was up to him he would have let it go a little longer.

But it isn't exactly up to him, it never is. Not that Jamil looks angry exactly, but then again as Kalim has come to accept he's not the best at reading his moods.

"I thought you said you weren't going to ask Yuu out?" No Jamil sounds confused and Kalim fidgets with his bracelet under his questioning stare because he knows what he's about to say will probably actually make him mad.

"I didn't." Jamil takes a deep breath and Kalim immediately waves his hands to try and soothe him. "Promise! I remember everything you said about wanting to know and I agree it's just... are you sure you aren't misreading things? That Yuu isn't just... comfortable around me now?"

"... it's always a possibility given just how weird the prefect can be, but no. I'm pretty sure you must have said something that's given them the wrong impression." Jamil sighs and rubs his chin thoughtfully. "It's going to be awkward, but you should probably clear things up with them and tell them how you really feel."

"You mean tell them I'm not allowed to-"

"Like I said before," Jamil actually smiles now, and Kalim really hopes it's real "it's not my place to tell you who you can and cannot date. Sure your parents might have an idea about what they want you to do, but you and I know that a political marrige would never really work for you. It's just not how you're built." And with that he leaves Kalim to his thoughts.

~~~~

"Have you ever considered throwing smaller parties?"

"Haha this is a smaller party~ I only invited you and your freshmen friends." So Kalim says and so you see, but you suppose everything Kalim does comes from a rather skewed sense of small. It's nice to look out on though, Ace is amusing one of your other classmates with his card tricks while Jack and Deuce take turns at arm wrestling. Epel even manged to get Sebek to participate in something, though he might have regretted making it an eating contest. And above it all, tucked away in a little alcove, Kalim rests his head on your shoulder and hums along with the music playing through his dormitory loudspeakers. It feels domestic in a way despite the grandiose display around you.

"It's very nice Kalim." You lean your head on top of his and he sighs in contentment. "But you said there was a worry you wanted to tell me about?"

"Mhm. I'm worried I said something accidentally that made you realize that I liked you." If he wasn't holding you so intimately his words would have been like ice water over your self confidence. You still cringe and Kalim laughs slightly, happily holding you just a bit closer. "Hey I didn't say that I don't like you, I just want to make sure you understand what that means. I could put you in a lot of danger you know?"

"More than half a dozen overblots?" You lightly joke but Kalim just hugs you a little harder at the thought. "We'll cross those bridges when we come to them, it doesn't make me love you any less. After all," you press a gentle kiss to his forehead and smile as he shakes in happiness "the moon looks beautiful tonight." Kalim gives a little gasp.

"Oh that's a wonderful way to say it!"

Jamil

What He Says:

"I get that your world is a bit behind ours because it doesn't have magic, but really?" Jamil's voice lacks the usual venom that would accompany his teasing if he hadn't been the one to propose this idea. "Wanting to make a mix tape has got to make you practically per-historic." You try to suppress your own smile as you watch him work from across the floor.

"I prefer vintage." Your smile breaks free as Jamil finally laughs, you wonder if he knows just how beautiful he is as he swipes a misbehaving hair out of his eyes and gives his stereo another once over. "I'll have you know making mixtapes have a long and storied tradition in my world." You keep some of the possible implications to yourself, and try to pretend the concept hasn't been swirling around in you brain since he first suggested this. "Why aren't you using magic to clean it?"

"Because I get to keep you here longer." The words dance on the tip of his tongue and he forces them away with a smile.

"It's old, and I don't really want to go searching for a new one if I break something." The lie has just enough of a trace of truth to fool you, but Jamil isn't one for taking chances. "Aren't you supposed to be looking for stuff you like? You won't get that by staring at me."

"Not like I'm going to find anything till your done cleaning." You snort and finally take your distracting eyes away from him and direct them to his tapes. "I don't know any of this stuff." But you can still tell this collection is pretty impressive. Some of the tapes look newer, but there are others that while well cared for are clearly old. Album art featuring sandy landscapes and people posing is sandwiched between vaporwave cartoons and aesthetically confusing 3-d models. This belongs to Jamil so you have a feeling it's organized, but you can't tell how. Not that he leaves you wondering for long lightly taps your nose with a new cotton swab and nudges your pouting face towards a specific section of the box.

"Here, I set some aside based off the kind of music you said you liked." And some that just reminded him of you, but that's nothing you need to know, yet if ever. "Anything else you can think of?"

"Do you have any songs about the moon?" The question pops out of your mouth before the thought that birthed it is fully formed, making you stumble over your explanations. "Yeah go ahead and laugh there's just... this one song I miss." It makes you think of him, from the few words you can remember. You've written it down again and again to try and make sure you don't forget them, but the tune has begun escaping you; much like all your memories of home will one day be fragmented, not that the reality makes it hurt any less. "I'm worried I'll forget what my moon looks like." Jamil's amused confusion remains, but his eyes soften in response to your distress.

"Is there a specific reason you need the song? Yo- The moon is beautiful tonight, do you need the exact song to see it?" Jami

"N-no." Your voice shakes. Neither of you move to look away, what gives you the strength to move yourself to sit next to him you don't know. But he doesn't move away and you let out a deep breath from sheer and relief and joy. "I think I'll be able to see it just fine next to you."

What He Breaks (two months later):

Things have been going missing from Jamil's room lately. Nothing he actually needs really, the sort of little things you would take if you were really desperate to remember the feel of a person. The sort of things you would take if you were dating that person, which isn't at all the thought he would have had if he didn't know who was taking them. Not that Jamil could come up with a reason for Yuu to be taking these things, his first thought had been to take something of Yuu's the next time he visited Ramshackle, but that seemed to make you happy. "Fair game" he'd thought. "I want an excuse to see you and you want an excuse to see me."

Still he wasn't prepared for this.

"Jamil!" there is something refreshing about how calm your happiness is. You've always had a way of extending that calm to him, wrapping him in it and allowing him some space to breathe. But today, today. Today the Ramshackle Prefect has decided that he wasn't allowed peace, because yesterday they had stolen his sweatshirt, and today they have decided to wear it. "Everything ok?

"ha." Jamil wants to tug the hood of his dorm uniform over his head. He wants to run, he wants to shake you, he wants to scream. He wants to do a three act play complete with an interpretive dance because that would be easier than trying to speak. But he has to, because there's only so many deep breaths he can take before you reach out to make sure he's ok. So he takes your hand in his as you do and places it directly over his heart. "You know," for some reason he finds it easier to smile now that you know how nervous he is "you can't have taken that without knowing what people might say."

"Oh I don't know." You smile and bring yourself into his space, that strange calm he finds in your happiness begins to weave itself around him again. "Maybe I wanted to clear some things up. Make it good and clear where I belong." Jamil takes another deep breath, your arms go around him and he makes sure to look long and good into your eyes to make sure there isn't a shred of a crimson glow. That this is something you have decided of your own free will and not a dream or an accident involving magic.

"I never properly asked you out..." Technically he never asked you out at all, but Jamil would rather die than say that out loud. Maybe sometime long long in the future when he's ready to laugh at it and not now when he needs you to confirm that's what you thought he did in the first place.

"Oh! That's not-" You bury your face in his chest with a light laugh and he tries not to die in the time between the seconds until you respond. "I was so happy to hear you say the moon line it didn't really occur to me you might be worried about that."

"Who wouldn't?" Not that he's worried now, every other possibility has been ruled out so he can say exactly what he's been wanting to for so long. "Will you be mine?"

"I already was." It sounds so much better outloud than he could have ever dreamed.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #“Or not please not actually” did something to my brain #such a nice way of phrasing that ur mind

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acewritesfics · 6 months

Text

Feel the Same | Jay Halstead

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request: from @/runnning-outof-time

Warnings: General Chicago PD stuff. Working undercover. Guns. Serial killer who gets off on forcing couples to do stuff before killing them. I may have taken it a little further than I needed to.

Word Count: 1,822

Jay Halstead Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Come on you two, act more like a couple,” Ruzek could be heard over Jay and Y/N’s ear pieces. Y/N fights the urge to roll her eyes as she shifts closer to Jay.

“Maybe you can come in and take my place,” she mumbles as Jay leans in, leaving barely any space between them as his blue eyes look into hers.

“You and Jay are more his type,” he says referring to the suspect having an affinity for women who look similar to her with men who just so happen to also look like Jay. The whole thing was uncanny. “Though I’m flattered that you think Jay and I would make a cute couple.”

“Enough you two,” Hank’s rough voice breaks through their bantering. “But Ruzek’s right, you need to look in love or you won’t get his attention.”

Jay takes her hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb, his touch calming her. He gives her a soft smile and leans in closer to talk to her so he’s not shouting over the music.

“I didn’t say it earlier, but you look incredible,” he says softly into her ear before pulling back far enough to look into her eyes.

Her brain malfunctions for a moment, her skin heating from his compliment and his closeness feeling more intimate than when they last went undercover as a couple.

Movement from over his shoulder catches her attention. Their murder suspect James Henry, who they feared is a couples serial killer, has his eyes zeroed in on her and Jay. She shifts her eyes back to her partner and pretend husband. “He’s looking but he looks a little bored.”

“Then maybe we should give him a show,” he says before leaning in and softly kisses the side of her neck.

She bites her lip and tries to suppress her surprise and the arousal she feels as his soft lips caress her skin. He was used to her kissing her cheek when they played into being a couple for undercover work, but this felt too intimate, and she found herself loving it.

“This, okay?” She hears him ask, his warm breath fanning against her skin. She doesn’t know how he found her sweet spot on the first kiss

“Mhmm,” she says unable to form any words.

His lips brush her skin again, this time brushing against her sweet spot. The sigh of pleasure would have her feeling embarrassed but right now all she could focus on is the way Jay’s lips feel against her skin. She can’t remember the last time she’d been kissed this way and a part of her knows she shouldn’t be enjoying.

Going along with it, she slides her hands under his shirt and scratches her nails along his skin. When Jay’s lips finally meet hers, she’s gone enough to melt into it.

She comes back to reality a moment later and breaks the kiss. Glancing at their suspect, she says into Jay’s ear, “It’s time to go somewhere private.”

Leaning back, she kisses Jay once more, taking his hand in hers and throwing him a smirk. She leads him to one of the private rooms off to the side of the club.

“He’s following you,” Adam’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Good,” Jay says letting them know they heard him.

“Keep up the show,” Adam adds, causing Y/N’s cheeks to heat up. She’d gotten so caught up in the kiss, she’d forgotten about the surveillance team watching and listening in on them.

Once inside the room, Jay closes the door, leads her to the sofa and sits down, pulling her onto her lap. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah,” she nods and starts fiddling with one of his buttons on his shirt. “We haven’t gone this far before but, whatever gets the job done, right?”

He nods and looks over her shoulder, seeing the silhouette of a figure outside the door. Pulling her into another kiss, they move into a more intimate position with one of hands trailing up her thigh and gripping it just below the hem of her little black dress as the other buries it into her hair, holding her to him. Once again Y/N fights to hold back the moan threatening to escape the back of her throat.

Hearing the door open and close, Y/N breaks the kiss. The two detectives turn their attention to the door, seeing their suspect standing there.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he tells them, standing there with a smirk on his face and lustful hunger in his eyes.

“Are you some kind of perv?” Y/N questions him, not even trying to hide her disgust as she clenches her jaw, now fighting off the urge to throw up. This guy was more than just a perv.

Jay moves them so they’re standing up with him standing in front of her. She places a hand on his arms, to reassure him she can handle herself while maintaining the ‘couple’ persona. To James it looks like a boyfriend shielding his girlfriend, to her and Jay it’s more than that. He was protecting her like he always does, making sure he’d be the first or only one injured if it were to go south, giving her time to take him down or call for back up. She was reassuring him that she can handle herself, that she’s got his back, if anything happens to him, he’s her priority and that she’s willing to take his spot if it means protecting him. She’d be standing in front of him if she wasn’t playing the scared girlfriend.

“You’re going to want to do as I say if you want to survive tonight,” James tells them pulling out a gun and pointing it towards them.

Jay’s hand that was reached back behind him to hold Y/N close to him, gripped her tighter. “Are you fucking insane?”

“Maybe I am, but the thing is I get this urge,” he begins, thinking this will be another kill he can get away with. “When I see a beautiful couple, like yourselves, I have to force them to do things and in a climatic ending I, unfortunately for them, have to kill them.”

“Babe, I don’t want to die,” Y/N says to Jay, putting on the scared girlfriend act.

“We’re not going to die, okay?” he says pretending to reassure her. “Look man, I don’t know what messed up crap happened in your life to make you like this, but I know some people who can help you. They specialize in this sort of thing.”

“I don’t need a fucking therapist!” James shouts at him. “I need you to go back to what you were doing.”

“Here’s the thing, I also have performance issues, okay?” Jay tells him. “I can’t perform under pressure. Just ask my girl. Last week something bad happened at work. I was stressed to the max and I couldn’t get it up. So, this, this isn’t going to happen unless you-”

A shot went off cutting Jay off from his rambling about his fake performance issues in the bedroom. Jay looks at James more angry than shocked.

After James takes a shot at Jay and misses him completely, Y/N reaches for her clutch, shoving her hand inside it and pulls out her gun. Taking a small step to the right, still standing mostly behind Jay, she holds up her gun pointing it at James. She makes sure to aim it at his head as her free hand clutches the back of Jay’s shirt, letting him not to move in case James decides to take another shot.

“You shoot at him again, I’ll shoot you and believe me I won’t miss,” she tells him before mumbling into the small microphone. “If you’re going to move in, now would be the time.”

“We’re on our way,” Hank’s voice comes through the earpiece before the door to the office is smashed open and the room is filled with cops.

Thankfully the suspect drops the gun and holds up his hands knowing there is no other way out of this alive. Jay steps forward, taking the cuffs from Adam. Slapping them on to James’ wrists, he reads him his rights before handing him off to one of the other cops before making his way over to Y/N and Hank.

“You two can fill out your reports in the morning,” Hank tells them. “Go home and get some sleep.”

“You got it boss,” Y/N thanks him as he walks away. She turns to face Jay.

“Are you okay?” he asks her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“I should be asking you that,” she says covering his hand with hers.

“Not the first time I’ve been shot at,” he smiles.

“Okay, macho man,” she rolls her eyes and pulls him in for a hug.

“I’ll drive you home,” he tells her and leads her to his truck.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Y/N tells Jay as she gets out of his truck after a silent drive home. Neither of them had spoken, being too caught up in their own thoughts about what happened at the club now their adrenaline had worn off.

Y/N heads up to her apartment and gets ready to have a shower to wash away the events of the night. She’s about to turn on the shower when there is a knock at the door. Leaving the bathroom, she walks to the door and opens it seeing Jay.

“Is everything okay?” she asks him.

“After what happened at the club… Kissing you… I can’t get it out of my head, and I can’t ignore the way it made me feel,” he begins. “I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel anything more than friendship for you and that there is nothing between us.”

“What are you saying?” she questions him, her heart thumping against her chest, a lump caught in her throat and her thoughts spinning in her head.

“I’m saying that I love you and not just as my friend or work partner,” he tells her. “I love you and I want to be with you. I really hope you feel the same. If you-”

She cuts him off by pulling him for a kiss. This one wasn’t as urgent as their kiss from earlier in the night. Jay arms move around her waist, pulling her closer before walking her backwards into her apartment and kicks the door close.

“I feel the same,” she says breaking the kiss. “I love you too.”

Smiling, he kisses her again until she breaks the kiss again.

“You don’t really have performance issues, right?” she teases him, knowing full well he didn’t. “Because you know, it could be an issue.”

“Do I have to go over all my sexcapades again with you?” he teases back. “Because I can tell you-”

“I’m good,” she chuckles and pulls him in for another kiss.

#acewritesfics repost #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd x reader

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hero-next-door · 6 months

Text

Defending Nathan Prescott

(From Every Accusation)

All fact proven & common sense theory

No bullshit.

I suck at grammar. Deal with it.

I've replayed the game far too many times to gather this. I read into everything and even read into and WATCHED people who have suffered the same mental illness and situations Nathan has been in.

What I'll be covering:

Illness, rib breaking, dead animals, bdsm, Chloes pic, Rachel, gun on campus, Kate, Pompidou, Jefferson, wealth and his father.

And dont even THINK about skipping ahead!

Everything here is tied into one another. Read from start to finish. You're on this post to understand, right? Or to argue? Im not here to argue so, bye.

Lets start from the top...

Nathans downfall was caused by society and all who failed him. He's driven by hatred of others who don't understand him, and the game purposly wrote him off that way. They want players to hate him from what sides of the stories we've experienced. They gave this character controversial hobbies and a cynical bully attitude to really keep you suspecting him and not guessing Jefferson. The game isn't about Nathan. It's about Max. We learn so much about Max and everyone close to her. The tears they shed, the pains they've endorsed. Same with Chloe and Rachel's story. My heart goes out to all of them. We don't get to see that with other characters. Therefore, we don't care for them...or that's the games' intentions. We don't know the ins and outs of Nathan. Only what the game shows us, which are all negative. So, of course, disliking Nathan is only reasonable.

Mental Illness

We start with mental illness. He has Psychosis. Lots of proof, but i'm assuming you've seen it all already. Like, do people know what Psychosis is? Do they REALLY know what it is? Because this ALONE changes everything. And not Psychopathy ..Psychosis. Two different things, pookie. Psychopathy is the one where part of the brain is missing or disturbed. THEY'RE the ones that don't have empathy. Psychosis is different. Anybody can get it. This illness can take your empathy and awareness away, then bring it all back after the harm is done, leaving you to process that. Schizo and Bipolar are also all quite a handful to deal with too. Loud Noises/downgrading voices in your head SO LOUD that people will do anything to calm them. (Dont be shy, youtube: "28- Psychotic Episode" by Collège d'Alma) The feeling of loosing your mind is something I notice a lot of haters dont empathize on especially if they killed or hurt sombody. The brain slips into a state so disconnected that interviews with recovering patients I've seen describe it as confusing and scary and dont recall saying the stories they told and actions they did others. Imagine not being able to remember the hurtful things you've said and done. Imagine being told you killed somebody... with your own hands? And you can hardly remember what happened. Like... how would you react? Think about it. Anybody can get psychosis with enough trauma or a kick in the noggin. Some people who were interviewed that had psychosis said that they found relief when getting high or drunk. Little did they know the symptoms could bounce back up to 5x during withdrawal. But they were so desperate to get rid of the voices that they abused the drugs. Like....wow the game really did their research to create such a complicated character. Anyway, moving on.

Edit: After further research, he certainly had bipolar disorder first. Then it went left untreated, therefore sunk him to worse mental state of many other illnesses. Drugs only made things much, much worse. Bipolar disorder can cause schizo and schizo to lead to psychosis. 🙄Jesus Nathan quit hogging all the illnesses.

Now, let's break down everything else...

Shooting Chloe

Just rewatch it. Aims gun, Chloe pushes him, it tightens grip, ACCIDENTLY shoots her, immediately drops gun and gets really scared of he's done, checking to see if she's alive! If you specifically rewatch the ending of Lis1 when Chloe gets shot, they extend his reaction. He goes back and forth, checking her body. If he wanted to kill her, you check pulse and then run. Not sticking around crying about it. There's your empathy you're all saying he doesn't have. Other times where he could have shown more empathy ties with his Psychosis. Some people with the illness said that the voices loudly in their head will convince them that everyone around you is your enemy. Everyone is after you. It can twist your brain to feel anger and fear towards others. Nathan is always hung up on how everyone is using him and trying to control him. Which people ..DO use him. So now he's convinced that everyone is. He's not choosing to feel this way. He just needs psychiatric help.

Breaking Ribs

In Before The Storm, his entire demeanor is completely different than the Lis 1. He's more cowardly and not loud and aggressive. We'll be mentioning his creepy "pervy" binder later. Nathan isn't violent until the end IF you let Nathan get bullied and push his life in a negative direction. Sure, it's not Chloe's responsibility, but this is the game's way of showing you his downfall. We need to remember the game hides scenes and expect you to make up what happened behind the scenes. He broke Samantha's ribs over ..what? She's always so desperate to defend Nathan and even gets upset with Chloe when she doesn't help. So, if you tell her the wrong option to pressure kindness into Nathan, it results in him breaking ribs. How, though? Haters immediately hop online to say cause he's a mean and abusive non-empathic nut head. Are you sure he didn't just push her away, and her clumsiness just fell over? This took place after the play...so he possibly...pushed her off... 😰 She did say she was clumsy. You don't think she would have tried to hug or touch him in any way. Ok ok...calm down... Let's take a step back.. You get this "breaking ribs," ending from letting Nathan get bullied and embarrass himself during the play that his father pressured him about! Adding a little "..fuck you.." to the audience. Showing his start to his villain career and the start of him hating everyone, and you tell Samantha to go hug him!? This is the start of his mental spiral if you let things play out this way. But hurting her with intention? No. Lets tie this in with the other endings to their relationship. You get the clumsy ending. She hurts herself differently, and Nathan is with her in the hospital. Saying how he feels bad that she got hurt. (empathy bell) And they continue yo talk about her photo or whatever. Tie this with the rib one, tie this with the Chloe getting shot incident, and tie this with his mental illness. Come on, do i gotta spell it out for you.. Hurting someone is not what he attends to do. Like he quotes in his voice mail. (Speaking of that voice mail, empathy bell.) He does get angry at Samantha and hurts her, and we as players dont know the full story. But what was playing in his head seconds before and the entirety of the game that led up to this IS the reason why he accidentally hurts her. His anger from the entire game was built up and, unfortunately, released on her. Whatever happened, breaking her ribs was not on his to-do list! And then we have.. The good ending. He sits beside her, smiling.

Oh, wait! He's a little psycho with no human emotion? Psychosis has all parts of the brain attached, pookie. For most cases, It can be cured and helped. I can get it. YOU can get it. He has human emotions when he is at his very rare peaceful moments like with this good ending, when with Victoria ig and other scenes we tend to forget. Because painting him as the villain was the games goal. Jefferson was the plot twist.

Daddy Issues, Smug Talk, and a Gun on campus

Simple guys. Simple. You represent this school. You represent our name. This is a legacy. You will not embarrass me. This isn't about you or your problems!

Sure, YOU wouldn't crumble under that pressure, but Nathan sure did. Sure, child abuse isn't an excuse to "kill" people. But is it the child's fault? Sean-beanbag prescott should be arrested for not taking his boy to the asylum. Instead, he argues with a doctor!? Goofy, bro. But so many people are fueled with anger towards Nathan instead. It's whatever. Prescott, literally being his name, was already a red flag to other characters and chose to hate and bully him over it. Drew hated for what his FATHER did. Nathan did ..what again? Notice how that "rich Malfoy talk" wasn't really present in Before The Storm. Sure he tried to burn Drew with a family financial situation insult but the "Im rich, my father owns everything, I got a lawyer, money this and that" wasn't in his character in the Before the Storm. I believe being a prescott wasn't really in his future goals, and he wasn't ever really passionate about it. It's all in the annoyance in his tone with his father before the play. Lis1 he uses it so often to show that he's the boss and in control. He is influenced by representation for his family/school, wealth, intimidation, and of course hatred and believing everyone hates him. In his mind, everyone is against him, after him, and wants to use him. Again, he doesn't choose to think this way. Let me explain my last sentence clearly, though. Imagine being surrounded by a ton of people. All their attention is on you. They hate who you are. They talk about you. You have a defensless stomach sinking feeling and scared because all these people surrounding you are looking at you and all your insecurities and laughing at you. Well, obviouslysome of that is not going on in reality. But to Nathan, that IS his reality, and he has no control over it. Anyways I shouldn't have to keep explaining mental illness and how it stresses the brain. The bottom line is that his status and waving a gun around is what he thinks keep others out of his head. He can barely throw a punch. He had to use his head on warren, and did you catch when Max hit him in that scene? The dude was literally holding onto his face like he'd been battered. Like she did NOT hit that hard lmao. He's weak. He's always been the same tiny Nathan from before the storm. Just now, he uses masks for intimidation to stop his bullies, and anyone he thinks is "after him." He never meant to use a gun on anybody, just a threat. During the second scene where warren reunited a head butt with Nathan.. If you pull off warren, he barely even aims the gun when he runs away towards his room. Cowardly. He feels that he has to, to protect himself. He also uses his father as a threat, but clearly, that never worked. Also, I noticed him crying when you let Warren get crazy on him? Dudes apologizing and sobing? Guess that's not his first rodeo, rip.

Dead Animals

There is no proof he hurt animals. That's not really like him. He does have a list of illnesses, but Psychopathy isn't one of them. Y'all can keep yappin, but it's not. Clearly NOT one of them. He could have hurt an animal during an unaware episode, but there will not be any awareness behind it. Anyways, there are plenty of artists that do the same thing. Nathan is very passionate about photography and protraying solitary but not in the same way Jefferson does. Jefferson certainly uses that manipulation, but we'll get to that later. There are artists that like to shine on death in a positive light and in sorrow. There's also beauty in anatomy. It's not my cup of tea, but someone close to me can name me all kinds of gross organs and would be down to disect any animal. Yuck. But to them.. its fascinating, and they are the greatest people in my life. In love and in empathy. (NOT comparing my pookie to Nathan, PAUSE.) In anatomy theres Education and surprise. Death is also a theme and style too. Skulls and gore, super "rad" fukin "knarly."

BDSM Skip to (●) next part if needed

Ok.. so he's a little frisky. Y'all need to remember this is a fictional game first, okay? Lol Anyway, I can't defend him much here, but I got something. Firstly, the game WANTS you to suspect Nathan. Can't keep his room pretty and pink. They have to make it freaky and spooky. They paint Nathan as the villian for you to only focus on him as a suspect. So that everyones jaws are dropped with Jefferson twirls in.

Anyway...defending BDSM? This can bring trauma to those who have experienced it negatively or view it negatively. So skip to the Frank defense or read more if you want.

Bdsm relationships are very controversial. Some people see it as unhealthy, abusive, and sick. But if you have talked to or listened to other people within these relationships, they state that its completely consensual, safe, harmless, a breach of deep trust with their partners, and simply a fetish or kink The goal is to have fun at your limit..not pass the limit. There are twisted people who have broken that barrier and made it not fun and abusive. That's where I can't argue. If you feel that way towards the topic, I completely empathize with you.

Nathan has shown in his other photos a black and white theme of solitary. And you can tell that he might have taken those bdsm photos himself. As the quality is almost like the Pompidou photo. Everyone blends him taking bdsm photos with his angry behavior and "non empathic" demeanor. But this is where I loop back to Before The Storm hugging-my-binder Nathan. It's shown that in one of his endings, he took photos of Samantha. Obviously, NOT bdsm photos. His binder was a school project. But Samantha obviously consented, and Nathan was passionate enough to show her. He sees them as art. Naked girls have been models for sculptures and paintings. Its beauty. That's IF she was naked in some way in those photos. Which I still doubt. School project. Im sure the photos were gentle and strange and misunderstood, and Drew was just in his bully era. His reaction would have been a lot more eye-opening if he had a face full of tits or straps. Nathan begged for his binder back and even nervously reacted, showing he had love for his work and 'took time with it' (as he quotes when Drew throws it). I bring this up here to show that the women in his photos were indeed given consent, and if hes passionate about depicting his art, hurting them wouldn't be on his agenda. As we all learned today that hurting people was never his intentions until drugs and illness met with pressure and intimidation clouds his brain.

I read up on other artists that painted things similar. In their paintings, they expressed dread, vulnerability, feeling traped, and ..feeling used. If Nathan did find the images he took arousing, then why would he hang them up like everything else in his room like art? I believe that they're depicted in an artful way and in its black and white shading brings a sad darkness. If it's anything like the painters I mentioned, maybe Nathan has a deep level of empathy we don't understand.

●Frank and Pompidou

I didn't even know he took a picture of Franks hurt dog in the road because you little freaks threw his treat in the street!? This will also tie in to chloes pic, but we'll get to that. Frank first, as it's pretty simple. Nathan runs some system with Frank. And it's pretty obvious it's the same thing Drew was doing in Before the Storm. Nathan clearly doesn't like it as he finds it controlling, but getting his hands on drugs is a great way to forget his flaws and calm his illness symptoms. Which only created a loop of his symptoms worsening, as talked about before. His illness is very active towards the end of Before the Storm. You can tell by his huge character difference that drugs only made it worse.

Pompidou is a good dog, but just remember he's not the one who hurt him. This ties in with what we explained in the dead animal phase. The Imagine is black and white. It's a strange art most people don't understand. Man, I don't even understand it. But these people aren't heartless, and they're simply expressing pain. Or.. he took it for the same reason he took Chloes pic. To feel that he's in control, thinking this will help his mental reality of thinking everyone can use him, as explained earlier. But i doubt it. One is in color, and Pompidou is not. One is misguided, and one is "art."

Jefferson, Rachel, Kate, Chloes pic

If i see one more person throw him in the same trash bin as Jefferson, im going to puke. Anyway, I've twisted my head around this story so many times, begging to see the bigger picture. No pun attended. Jefferson was pulling the strings all along ..you know that, right? If Nathan was never there, Jefferson would have still done his disgusting projects. He certainly brought Victoria over without Nathan's usage. He didn't need Nathan, Nathan just made it easier cause he can easily be manipulated. Making Nathan do it all so the consequences will fall on him. Jefferson is smart and knows the right words to say. Nathan is missing the kindness of a father figure. All he has to do is play with his feelings. Nathan falls too easily to kindness. He felt the kindness of Samantha during the good ending, and He felt the kindness from Victoria.. but Victoria toxic bully nature wasn't helping. The bottom line is Jefferson easily manipulates him and understands his mental reality and uses that against him. Adding thoughts into Nathans head. Jefferson learned to use Nathan's illness to his advantage. Nathan trusted Jefferson as did everyone in that school. Why on earth would Jefferson wrong him? He looked up to him, so when Jefferson slowly brought him into his plans of drugging girls, Nathan thought that it was all ..moral. In reality, you and I know obviously that's not okay, but to Nathan (and his severe illness), he trusted Jefferson was doing no wrong. We don't understand the mental strain he was under. Manipulation goes a long way. Heres how he did it. He probably said things like 'We are the same Nathan, this is art just like yours.' It starts small, Nathan gets him the drugs. Then he pulls him in, and Nathan starts drugging the girls for me. Start driving them here. Start helping me inside the dark room. Start helping me inject my victims. Jefferson had so much power over him. He was connected with his father. He can threaten his grade, his representation, and his future in art. He knew all the right things to say and do. He knew how his head worked. Clog him up with drugs, and keep him quiet. Heal his missing father needs and demand him for your needs. Does this not make Nathan a victim, too?

Then ...the Rachel incident happened. Nathan was NOT mentally aware of what he's done. The excited "Rachel!" When he saw Max at the diner clearly shows that he truly expected her to pull up. This mixes with the symptoms we've discussed. He only remembers bits and pieces as obviously it was beyond traumatizing. Sending him in an insane spiral and the infamous psychosis drawing. (Don't be afraid, google psychosis drawings. Damn. Just imagine you recovered from psychosis and laying eyes on that and not remembering you drew that..ugh...I'd cry.) Someone with Psychopathy wouldnt feel traumatized from such events, debunking the fact everyone thinks Nathan has Psychopathy. He doesn't have Psychopathy, he has psychosis. Moving on. Jefferson was certainly angry with him and drugged Nathan himself after the incident, which really helped Nathan to forget what he's done. But Jefferson's anger and not talking to him tore him apart. His emotional attachment clearly wasn't having it. The note he wrote Jefferson in desperate attempt to bring him back after ruining Jefferson plans goes to show just how much he wants that sense of being cared for. If only it was someone else that wasnt Jefferson ..or his dad can do is fucking job too.

Alcohol was certainly a great method of forgetting what he did. So then comes Chloes' interaction with him. We know the story. He did not SA her, I can say that right here and now. Nothing like that was behind this. You can tell by the way Chloe presented the story to Max. There wasn't an uncomfortable tone to her story. She didn't seem traumatized but more shocked, and "it was pretty crazy." She also wasn't drugged for that long. She woke up very soon, fully clothed. What obviously happened is that Nathan used this to feel in control like the mentioned way above. Drugs and Psychosis is no jokes. Who knows what hell is playing in his mind, but I unfortunately believe that this was to try to win back Jefferson. He had been angry at him and ignoring him, and even tho he hates drugging, his confusion and drunk state led him to this. He's cowardly, and his mind is slipping and tries to do what he thinks is right for him. He's misguided and leads down the wrong path.

Nathan did not SA Kate! Kate story breaks my heart into a million pieces, but if she was SA-ed, it wasn't Nathan. After everything I said above, you can tell that that isn't in his character. But here I want to bring up the voicemail. Nathan claims multiple times that he never wanted to hurt anybody, implying that he felt forced to do harm. Something he DID NOT want to do. Why on earth would anybody have felt forced to SA somebody!? I'm not saying Kate WASN'T SA-ed as I can only assume maybe the boys she was shown with in the video did something or Jefferson. Victoria was Kates bully!!! Nathan wanted to be liked by Victoria and was influenced by her nature. He's desperate for attention and kindness. Victoria did far more to hurt Kate and her reason as to why was shit. You go THAT FAR to one up your photography game. Girl, bye. She spread that video, and she still has empathy, too? Her regretting everything? Did she reallyy regret it? Or did she want to make herself look good for her representation? She showed regret via text message in Before The Storm, too? She doesn't have a mental illness, but the game gave her an act of forgiveness and used her as a victim so the audience would sympathize with her. Goes to show you the game controls what they want you to feel. If they were to do that with Nathan..would opinons be different? Taking us into his mind and how he sees the world around him. They could have..but didnt. Well.. We have the voicemail, but obviously, that didn't stop the haters. It's unfortunate. But the game gave me just enough little clues for me to shine light on in this post. They put so much into his character but never showed the audience the truth.

Conclusion

What we've learned today is that Nathan isn't the villain you think. He's been manipulated, used, and needs mental help, but im sure my old Nathan-defending friends have said this time and time again. Im here to add something....

It's been PROVEN that he's capable of all human emotions. You just refuse to believe it because you're mistaking his illness and claiming all of this was intentional. Psychosis can be temporary. It's like a hand that steals your common sense, feelings, empathy, and sympathy, and you're only left with acting on pure chaos and negative or fearful emotions. After long treatment, your sense of reality returns, your feelings, your empathy, your sympathy.. And all you have now is guilt and regret and self blame that you hurt somebody. If you let Nathan kill Chloe, he is arrested. He had doctors aware of his illness and would have been charged with illness in mind. Forcing the treatment he needed ages ago. By the time Lis 2 came out... I wonder how he's taking it all in? What he did to everyone, what he did to Rachel.

He was written off to die, be locked up, and blamed. Unfortunately, he was caught in the crossfires of the harm of our favorite characters. If he was born in a different family and away from Jeff, he would have never hurt anybody. Matter a fact, he would never have suffered with his listed mental illnesses.

This goes out to all real accidental murder cases. There will always be a great divide in opinions. I hate comparing fictional games with real life, but I find it crazy that we call others nonempathtic when they aren't empathic themselves. It's like the word "accidental" is worthless.

Its always a debate..

Do we feel bad for the lives lost and their families

Do we feel bad for the mental crumble of the one who never meant to kill and how their familes have to deal with that.

Are they worthy to walk this earth? Are they worthy to see the daylight again? Are they still human, too? Should they die, too? Is redemption possible?

Who knows. Peoples opinions won't change unless they themselves fall onto the opposing team. If they were to suffer the chaos of accidentally murdering someone or the grief of losing someone from an accidental murder.

Red Nathan, the first Nathan we all experienced from Lis1. Damaged and doomed. Used and mentally obstructed. It's unfortunate things ended this way.

Blue Nathan, Appears in Before the slStorm and Max's alternate timeline. He is clean and hasn't touched drugs. He had not been involved in crimes or violence yet. In this alternate timeline, he has been somehow saved and kept away from mental destruction and Jefferson. We will never really know what drove Nathan towards this peaceful path, but I assumed that it was the kindness of Max that led him in the right direction. (Max somehow changed Victoria, too. With her demeanor being so gentle. I really am curious about the whole back story of that timeline... I think about it alot)

#nathanprescott #nathan prescott #life is strange #life is strange before the storm #life is strange nathan #Life is strange nathan prescott #Defending nathan #Defending nathan prescott #Redeeming nathan prescott #grahamscott #Warrenxnathan #Scottfield #mental health #mental illness

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slytherheign · 1 year

Text

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR | max verstappen

PART 1/4 OF BROKEN GLASS AND HONEY SERIES.

CAN ALSO BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT.

PAIRINGS: max verstappen x fem!reader, slight daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.9k

SUMMARY: you find yourself fighting with max again. but this time, it hurts both of you more.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, unhealthy/abusive relationship (pls if you find yourself in a relationship like this, LEAVE), toxic behavior, hidden relationship, and allusions to sex. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: 16+]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift's song with the same title. also, pls remember that this is a work of fiction and i am in no way saying that max in real life behaves like this. dedicated to @writingstoraes, who helped me with making the social media stuff included in this. i hope you're having a great day, ily!

DESTINATION: Angst Avenue | GO TO SERIES MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

This happened way too often.

The screaming and throwing things at each other in his Monaco penthouse.

The living room was in disarray with shattered pieces of a vase strewn across the floor. Max had thrown it just minutes ago.

Today was the Monaco Grand Prix and Max had a bad race. You watched it from the stands like a typical fan and then left immediately after the race so you could get to his penthouse before him. You wanted to support him from the garage, but despite dating him for almost 2 years, your relationship was still hidden from the public. Even the Red Bull team didn’t know.

He almost lost because of the pitstop strategy and now he was taking his anger out on you. You were used to it at this point.

“It’s not fucking perfect! I didn’t get the fastest lap. I didn’t get driver of the day. Did you even see the interval between Fernando and me? He almost fucking won!” he screamed.

“But you still got P1,” you tried to calm him down although you knew it would do nothing. “You still won.”

He glared at you. Looking at your face with disgust.

“Of course, you wouldn’t understand,” he scoffed. “Because you don’t know a fucking thing about F1.”

That wasn’t true. You were a fan of the sport before you dated him. That was how you met each other, you attended a grand prix years ago. Max also knew that wasn’t true. That was one of the reasons why he loved you, you knew and understood him and his job. But he still said it. He said because he knew it would hurt you.

Silence hung heavy in the air as you stood on opposite sides of the room. You chose not to speak anymore, deciding it would be best if you just let his anger dissipate.

He absolutely hated the silence.

“WHY ARE YOU NOT TALKING?!” he yelled.

“WELL, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?!” you yelled back.

“I don’t know—something! You have a brain, fucking use it.”

“I don’t understand you. When I speak, you get mad. When I don’t speak, you get mad. What am I supposed to fucking do?!” you screamed, tears of frustration pouring down on your cheeks.

Now, he was the one speechless. He moved to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself down.

You followed after him minutes after, blood boiling out of anger because he was trying to escape another argument he caused in the first place.

“Now, you’re the one not talking,” you scoffed, crossing your arms and leaning on the wall. “For fuck’s sake, Max. You’re not the only one having a bad day. At least today, you still fucking won.”

“And you weren’t there to congratulate me,” he muttered under his breath but you heard it clearly. He knew he had hurt you and he was trying to deflect the situation by starting another argument—one that was very sensitive and he wouldn’t win.

“What the fuck are you saying?” you taunted.

“You heard me.”

“What is wrong with you? I was there. I was in the stands supporting you.”

Max knew he was in the wrong. He knew it wasn’t your fault but his. He realized he should apologize before things got too much out of control, but how was it, that instead of an apology, what left his mouth was another poor insensitive remark?

“Yeah. In the stands. You’re always in the stands. Never close to me.”

“Holy shit,” you laughed. “Is it my fault that even after almost 2 years of dating, you still don’t want to announce our relationship to the public? Are you really blaming me for something I never had control of?”

“Did I blame you? I never said it was your fault,” he wanted to stop, but his pride wouldn’t let him.

“Yes, you did! You know damn well if we weren’t hidden from the public eye, I would support you from the garage and hug you in front of everyone. But here you fucking are. Insinuating that I wanted to be in the stands instead of close to you,” you cried.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he stood up, wiped your tears, and kissed you roughly. He pushed you into the wall next to the door, locking it—even though no one else was in the house—with his one hand while his other grasped your hair to keep your face close to his.

You knew what he was doing. He was trying to get you to have sex with him instead of apologizing. He did this way too often and you always let him. But not this time.

“Stop,” you whispered, trying to pull away from him but his hold on you was strong. He moved to your neck, leaving marks everywhere but you pushed him back before the kissing led to something more.

“Max,” you stated sternly.

“What?” he shot back with a warning tone. His eyes were burning with lust and anger. A part of you wanted to give in like how you did almost after every argument with him in the past.

“We can’t continue doing this anymore, Max.”

“Just shut the fuck up. You know you want it.”

Part of you did want it.

“Not tonight,” you told him. “I think we should talk this out tonight.”

He pulled back. “Are you fucking serious?”

You glared at him.

“What if I don’t want to talk this out? Can’t we do something else? I’m sorry, okay? Is that enough?”

“You can’t even apologize properly, huh?”

“Can you stop? What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe start by announcing our relationship to the public,” you stated. You weren’t going to let him escape this tonight.

“Here we fucking go again,” he rolled his eyes.

The atmosphere was still charged with tension that never left. Stood in the center of chaos, was you and Max, faces flushed with anger.

“What? You don’t want to talk about this again? Well, I think we should. We absolutely should. I can't believe you still won't acknowledge our relationship, Max! We've been together for almost 2 years, and it's time we let the world know!”

Max clenched his fists, his voice filled with frustration as well, though quieter than yours was. “Y/N, you know I care about you. It's just... I've always been a private person. I don't like putting my personal life out there for everyone to see,” he said defensively.

“It's not about putting our personal life on display, Max. It's about acknowledging what we have, showing that we're proud to be together. But it feels like you're ashamed of me, like you don't even want people to know we're in love,” you wanted to scream but you didn’t, because he was finally communicating with you.

“It's not that at all! I'm not ashamed of you, I promise. I'm just scared of what might happen if we make this public. I don't want our relationship to become some spectacle.”

Your anger slowly turned into empathy as you saw the pain behind his eyes. You softened your stance and cautiously stepped closer to him. “We can't let fear dictate our lives. We deserve to be in a relationship where we can freely express what we feel for each other.”

“We can go through this like we always do. Whatever it is, We can fix it,” his voice cracked, as he struggled to express his vulnerability.

For a moment, you thought you finally got through him. That was until he talked again.

“Just wait for now.”

“Wait? We’ve already waited for almost 2 years. I’ve waited for you for almost 2 years. How many more years do you need? Another 2 years? 3 years? 6? How many more?” you sighed. “No, Max. We've been through this countless times. All we do is fucking wait.”

Max wasn’t angry anymore. He realized his mistake and knew what he should do. But the thing was, he still wasn’t ready. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered. It was all he could say.

He knew hiding you was unfair. If only you could just give him a little more time.

“Then fucking show it. I’m tired of this, Max. I feel like a fucking toy. Your family doesn’t even know I exist. I’m just someone you call when you want to fuck. I’m always hidden behind closed doors, never allowed to go out. I don’t even know how I lasted this long with you.”

“Because deep inside you know you love it too,” he stated. “Admit it, you love the thrill. The hiding, the fighting, and the screaming. You wouldn’t have stayed with me this long if you didn’t love it.”

He was right. You did love it.

The look in his eyes was doing something to your heart, convincing you to stay. But your mind was screaming at you to leave. You deserved someone and something better than this.

And just like what he said to you earlier, to use your fucking brain, you used your brain this time.

“This time I’ve had enough. I hope that we both find happiness, even if it means being apart,” you told him with a heavy heart.

He didn’t speak and you took that as a sign to leave.

He watched as you left the bedroom, not even bothering to get the clothes you kept in his closet. He sat on the edge of the bed again, left shattered as he heard your heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and the sound of the elevator door closing when you exited the house.

It’s been a few weeks since you walked away in the heat of the fight that night. A couple of race weekends had already passed.

Max has probably texted and called you a hundred times, none of them you replied to or picked up. You rested on your bed, relishing the silence that your apartment in Menton had. It was the complete opposite of Max’s penthouse, where you screamed at each other almost every day. You looked at your phone, scrolling through Twitter only to see the usual tweets from fans reacting to the previous race. One particular tweet caught your attention. It was a tweet about Max.

You laughed bitterly, thinking how they truly had no idea.

Just then, someone knocked on your door and your heart pounded with anticipation. You opened it to see Max, wearing a hoodie and a mask so the public wouldn’t recognize him. He let himself in when you didn’t acknowledge him. He walked into your living room, hesitantly glancing at you. He was unsure how you’ll react.

“Get back with me,” he said.

“Wow, not even an introduction? No ‘how are you?’ or ‘how have you been?’”

“I’m miserable without you,” he admitted. “Please, Y/N.”

You didn’t answer.

“I can change. If you don’t want us to fight or scream at each other, I’ll do my best to control myself.”

“It was never about the screaming, because if I’m being honest, a part of me loved it,” you confessed.

He stared at you with a glint in his eyes soon after you said that.

“Although, I would appreciate it if we didn’t argue almost every day. It gets exhausting to deal with you sometimes.”

“I can do that. I’ll work on myself.”

“But?” you asked. You knew there was more to what he was saying. You were sure there was a catch to this.

“But we still have to stay hidden for now. Give me more time, Y/N.”

And there it was. The catch.

“You know, I get the whole hiding from the public thing. I always knew you were a private person and being in the public eye doesn’t help that. But not introducing me to your family? Not even your friends? I can’t even tell my own family because you don’t want me to. I feel like your dirty little secret.”

“That’s not entirely true. Daniel knows. He knows you because I’ve told him about you.”

Your eyebrows were knitted from confusion. “How am I just knowing about this now?”

“It’s not important. I drunkenly told him one time but I warned him not to tell you or anyone what he knew.”

“Why? All this time I could’ve talked to him about us…”

“Why would you even want to talk to him?” he asked, a hint of jealousy evident in his voice.

“You don’t get it. I feel lonely, Max. It would’ve been nice if I had someone to talk to about our relationship. It gets tiring lying to my friends and family and declining their invitations when they want to go out and find me someone to date.”

“I swear I’ll eventually introduce you to everyone. Just not right now.”

“Max… I don’t know,” you told him. “I can’t keep waiting anymore. I don’t want to.”

“Y/N, please…”

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Max.”

“Y/N…”

“Leave,” you opened the door for him.

He looked at you once more, hoping you’ll change your mind. But when you stared at the door instead of him, he obliged.

A month passed, and Max never texted or called you again. You knew you should be thankful. This was what you wanted, right? You told him to leave. And that’s what he did. He left.

And now here you were, sitting alone with your stupid pride as you stared at your phone. You went through the photographs, selecting every photo you had of him just to delete it.

You remembered the pain of leaving, the longing to see Max once more, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different now.

You remembered seeing him again and the pain of telling him to leave. How he pulled your heartstrings to try and make you stay with him, and the way his eyes glistened with hurt and regret.

But then you also remembered that his resolution was to wait.

Max Verstappen was many things, but when it came to you, sure was not one of them.

Time was not stopping anytime soon. You weren’t getting younger. You deserved to be with someone who was sure. Someone who knew what he was doing.

But still.

There was always a ‘but’ and a ‘still’.

He had a hold on you.

And up until now, the hold was strong, never losing its grip.

You kept going back over the things you both said, recalling the slamming doors and all the things that you misread.

Looking back, you knew you were the one who told him it was over, but you only did that because you were so mad. If he really knew everything about you, then why couldn’t he see that you wanted him to chase after you?

He came back one time, tried to convince you for one time. Was that all of it?

You stood up, walking towards the window just to stare at the concrete road. You imagined Max standing right there, coming back to ask you to stay with him again.

You wanted him to stand outside your window, throwing pebbles at it to get your attention. And then you imagined him screaming how much he loved you, although that would probably never happen because, again, he was a private person. He couldn’t even introduce you to his family, how in the world could he scream he loved you outside your place where there was no doubt other people would hear him?

Droplets of rain covered the window. It started raining.

You wanted him to be outside, to wait there in the pouring rain because he came back for more.

For more moments with you.

For more time with you.

For more you.

And if he did come back, you knew you wouldn’t want him to leave again.

Because if you looked closer, you might’ve been the one who told him to leave, but all you really wanted was him.

If only he tried a bit more like what you expected him to do. If only he pushed a bit more, begged a bit more, and fought a bit more. If he asked you to stay with him again, you would’ve said yes.

If only what you needed was at the other side of your door. With his face and his beautiful eyes, bearing a conversation with the little white lies. And then the night would beautifully fade like an old picture because you were with him.

You broke down crying. Was it your fault because you couldn’t wait more like what he wanted you to do? Was it worth this mess?

After everything, you must confess… you needed him.

But he wasn’t here anymore. He wasn’t coming back.

So, you wiped your tears and looked away from the window you were staring through. You glanced at the clock you had in your room, sighing as you realized it was already past 11 p.m. and here you were breaking down over someone who kept you like a secret. The worst part was, you couldn’t talk about this to someone because no one else knew—just you, Max, and Daniel Ricciardo who you didn’t even know that much personally.

You grabbed your phone from your bed, eyes widening when you looked at the unread notification.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

message me or comment down below if you want to be added to my taglist! specify if you want to be added to my main (slytherheign) taglist where i’ll tag you in everything i publish in the future or just the formula one taglist.

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drunknillawafer · 3 days

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right down the line: zuko x firebender!reader | part 7

You grew up close to the Royal Family due to your father's position as a General, but you ran away from home after the agni kai against your best friend, Zuko. Now, you've joined the Gaang and plan on doing your part in ending the 100-year war.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

hi part 7... picking up right where we left off... i think I'm going to post a masterlist & keep it linked on my pinned to make it easier to sift through and find, esp since i do plan on posting other fics once i finished my very first >.< also i want to post the songs i listen to while I'm writing and some visuals hehe... just to make it much more immersive. again i do not own these characters and they are not mine! (except my mc i guess) like comment reblog if ya like... enjoy! about 1785 words

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

We’re standing on a sand-colored platform of a structure currently being renovated or changed to fit Fire Nation standards. The usual for when they occupy lands that don’t belong to them. Aangs in front of me, with Sokka to my left and Katara to my right. We form a triangle and I'm thankful for the partial covering.

I’m thinking of the best way to summarize the threats ahead of us, just in case they try to change the plan. There’s a good chance this will go south.

“Mai, in the center, has good aim with her blades, but it’s Ty Lee, on the left, you should keep an eye out for.” I try to give my friends the run-down on my, I guess, old friends one would say. But we’ve only got so much time before all three of them realize that I’m here.

They lower King Bumi from the top of the building using a metal crane. They’ve got him in a coffin-shaped cage with only his head showing.

“You brought my brother?” Mai speaks first, breaking the silence between the two groups. She squints at the sight of me, but I’m too far away for her to be sure it’s me.

“He’s here.” Aang solemnly replies. “We’re ready to trade.” In these moments, he’s got the grace of a 112-year-old.

Suddenly, Azula speaks to Mai in a hushed tone we can’t quite hear. Fine is never fine with Azula, nothing is ever the way it should be with her. There’s bound to be some trick up her sleeve that only feeds into her misery.

“I’ll help with the girl on the right, she’s the most vicious,” I warn them. I briefly make eye contact with Sokka. We haven’t talked about what was said and now wasn’t the time, but I couldn’t help but yearn for his gentleness. A reminder that I wasn’t like the enemies in front of us, but someone new. Someone he couldn’t hate.

Then, Mai steps forward. “The deal’s off.” With a lift of her gloved hand, King Bumi is raised once again by the crane.

“Bumi!” Aang cries out for his old friend and starts heading towards him, defying the laws of gravity bestowed upon the rest of us. It’s enchanting to see an air-bender. It’s so different from the rest of the elements. He looks like he’s flying.

As he does so, Azula strikes, and I see her blue flame for the first time. She must’ve perfected her oxygen levels for complete combustion; but if she’s the Azula I’ve always known, I know how to beat her. This time, I won’t go easy. I won’t make that same mistake again for nostalgia.

Aang’s head covering flies away as the air moves around him and his arrow is exposed.

I look down at Azula’s reaction and she’s close enough now to hear.

“The Avatar. My lucky day.” The princess smirks, re-organizing her plans for Omashu in her head.

“Remember, don’t let Ty Lee touch you!” I warn Sokka and Katara and dash toward Azula, offering Aang some support against the crazed fire-bender.

I follow her upward, burning the knot on the pulley to cause the rope to lift.

Azula can see me through the grids as the ropes pull us to the top of the building, and I can see her in real-time realize who I am.

“Well, if it isn’t the Royal traitor. Seems like you and Zuzu still share a brain.” She gloats.

“Leave the Avatar alone, Azula. I mean it!” We break through the ceiling made from wood and reach the roof of the building under construction.

She attacks Aang with a blue blast, causing him to break the metal chain. Aang instantly heads downward with King Bumi. He cushions their fall with an air bubble, and they land on the well-known ramps of Omashu. Azula quickly follows them using a cart, and I’m on her tail. If only I had Sokka’s boomerang right now, it makes so much sense to carry one in these situations.

We catch up to Aang, giving Azula the chance to strike him and Bumi.

I distract her with my own fire-blasts, making sure to lean forward and crash into her cart.

“Out of practice?” She questions.

“Out of patience.” I growl, punctuating my sentence with a blast from my right hand.

As we continue our fight by speeding through the ramps, I see Appa in the distance. Relief washes over me as I conclude Sokka and Katara must have gotten away from Mai and Ty Lee.

Aang attempts to lift Bumi onto Appa’s saddle with his bending, but he miscalculates and Bumi’s off to land on the ground. But his friend won’t let him go on his own. Together, they land on another ramp and head down to ground-level.

Azula’s right behind them, and I’m right behind her.

She attempts another attack, but a rock blocks her offense and bursts her cart into dust. I leap off mine before the impact breaks my cart too and we both land on our feet, an homage to our identical upbringing.

She lets Aang go for a reason I can’t quite put my finger on until she turns around to face me. We're still standing on the ramps.

“The key to never losing is knowing when you’re beat.” She says with her hands in defense, signaling that she’s waving the white flag.

I’m still in fight mode. I’d never let my guard down around her, not now, not ever. “You’ll always be beat as long as I’m here.”

She pauses to truly grasp my presence. It’s been three years since we’ve seen each other, and everything’s changed. We used to be on the same team, never friends but bonded by our birthplace. It’s the first time we no longer owe each other pleasantries. Azula, however, uses sweetness as a weapon. “Where have you been, Y/N? You’re missed at the Royal Palace.”

“I doubt it.” Zuko and his mother haven’t touched that home in years, making it impossible for anyone there to actually miss me.

“Your father misses you.”

“I know you’re lying, Azula.”

“You’ve never trusted me; I’ve never liked you. Now we don’t have to pretend do we?”

“Leave us alone,” I get in my fight stance. “Got it?”

“Fine. Loud and clear.” She dashes away in her infamous run toward the unfinished building, probably to catch up with her friends.

Fine isn’t fine. It’s I’ll get you somehow. I think to myself.

I watch her figure fade into the distance, when it hits me: “Seems like you and Zuzu still share a brain.”

Did Zuko abandon his ship?

Is she lying? She would have no reason to lie about something like that, other than to get to me or Aang. I can’t pinpoint a motive. I still won’t believe her 100 percent, but I’ll keep it in my back pocket.

I slide down the ramp Aang took and find the both of them at the very end, standing on a platform in another unfinished building. Once I’m off and my two feet hit the floor, Bumi bends rock to lift his metal enclosure up the ramp in a fit of laughter.

We both watch him go. “Your friend is very… eccentric.” I tell Aang, as he’s standing with Momo on his shoulders.

“Yeah.” I turn to face him, something’s wrong. He’s disappointed.

“He’s not going to teach you earth-bending?” I assume.

“No, he has to stay here to protect Omashu. I guess I got to find another teacher.” Now, he looks like a twelve-year-old boy with the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. There’s no way he’s meant to do this alone. I’d rather be here helping him than with Zuko.

“We’ll find one in no-time.” I reassure him.

“Who were those three girls?” He changes the subject.

“They were old friends too. Azula is Zuko’s sister.”

“Wow.”

“I know.” I sit on the edge of the platform, waiting for our ride with my feet dangling. Aang sits next to me, and for now, we’re just two kids talking, staring at the beautiful Earth Kingdom in front of us.

“What was it like… to grow up with them?”

“It was easy with Zuko. Azula… not so much.” I wince.

Aang’s face contorts, as if he’s remembering a distant memory. “Was Zuko good? Yaknow, back then?”

A smile creeps up on my face. “He was.”

“Do you think he still could be?”

Aang and I stare at each other. We’re choosing to live in the moment before my answer. The moment in which the possibility of Zuko changing his mind, realizing his mistakes, and helping us stop his father exists.

“I don’t know.”

☆

The heat and the prickly bushes are upsetting him further with each and every single step. Looking for food when you’re used to someone cooking for you is daunting, Zuko realizes. How is he ever supposed to live like this? How did Y/N?

As he’s walking back to let Uncle know he couldn’t find anything edible, he touches the side of his hair. It’s grown back a bit since cutting it, slicing off his ties to the Fire Nation. Trading in the red for green, hoping to camouflage with the land and the Earth Kingdom people.

What a stupid idea, he thought. How could anyone ever confuse him with anyone else with the scar on his left eye?

But it seemed to be working so far. His sister hadn’t found them, and they haven’t been arrested for their crimes against every other nation.

In the humid morning, on his long walk back to where his uncle was staring at a tea leaf, he thought about the Northern Water Tribe.

He wondered if Y/N was okay from his strike. Maybe the water-bender girl could heal her, and she’d be okay again. He didn’t mean to. He’s been this hard and heavy with everyone else for the sole purpose of returning home, he forgot Y/N was his home. He’s been in fighting mode for so long, he’s forgotten to turn it off.

She wasn’t home, though. She was with the Avatar. Defending him and betraying her nation. How did she get there? He wondered. He had so many questions about everything. Zuko’s sure she had just as many questions for him.

Could he find her now that he was labeled a traitor?

Where his mind led made his empty stomach drop.

If he found her, he’d find the Avatar. Then, he could go home. But if Y/N was not there, would he still want to go back? Did his father’s acceptance matter above all else? It didn’t for Y/N, but she was always braver than him.

Zuko wasn’t ready for that thought, so he pushed it away.

It wasn’t hard to do when your stomach was louder than your thoughts.

------------------

tag list <3: @camilleverreault @staygoldsquatchling02

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endiness · 1 month

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Debunking misinformation about Netflix's The Witcher (Part 4)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

"The Witcher producer blames dumb American audiences for simplifications to the story."

Any headline and article remotely resembling that is just clickbait — and clickbait with the fairly obvious purpose of inciting the fanbase against the show and the people involved in making it. In the original article as translated by Redanian Intelligence, Tomek Baginski explains some of the reasons for the simplifications to the story such as having to adjust things due to normal tv production problems:

Along with creating shows for a broader audience in general:

Given that he brings up a project he pitched that never even made it past that stage due to American network executives and producers not understanding the moral complexities of it, I think it is fairly obvious that he is not blaming American audiences, or audiences in general, for any simplifications to the story but rather speaking broadly about how creating shows — and, yes, shows largely for an American audience because the studios producing these shows and funding them are usually American — works.

Btw, these are also Baginski's comments about Tiktok — which he made a year before the above comments — as they're usually brought up in conjunction with the clickbait headline to further incite the fandom as they're framed in a way that makes it seem like he made both sets of comments at the same time even though he didn't:

BAGINSKI: I see the fastening of the processes Jacek Dukaj wrote about in his book – “Po piśmie” (“After the script”). We resign from cause-and-effect chains, from the linear narration. This book-like narration. When it comes to shows, the younger the public is, the logic of the plot is less significant. INTERVIEWER: What is significant, then? BAGINSKI: Just pure emotions. A bare emotional mix. Those people grow up on TikTok, Youtube, they jump from a video to video… INTERVIEWER: You’re talking to such person. BAGINSKI: So, it’s time to be serious: Dear children, what you do to yourself makes you less resilient for longer content, for long and complicated chains of cause an effect. INTERVIEWER: You’re talking about something else that’s hidden between your words. What you mean is that you don’t know how to make a show kids’d like to watch. BAGINSKI: Generally, I try to know what people react to and like to watch. Long and complex narratives will remain, it’ll be like a classic shelf in a bookstore. People will still read that, it will be popular at some point. But the edge of the mass audience is moving a bit into the a less linear narration, less cohesive one. I think it’s inevitable. As reading is not natural for the human brain. INTERVIEWER: Yep, you gotta learn it, it’s hard. BAGINSKI: Oh, in this sense, yes. You need a lot of effort to learn to recognise all these symbols. You probably don’t remember that. If you’re a genius, you read when you’re 3. It’s some big effort for your brain, moreover, it’s not natural. The things we receive with our heads… There’s nothing literary there. We have to learn literature. Learn to receive it and write it. It’s like mathematics, a lot of abstract symbols you have to learn to recognise. People who understand it will remain, the people who work on narration, they have to work on texts. But, more and more people won’t need it. Why write if I can record or say it? Why write if I can receive emotions in a different way. It’s a controversial thesis. When Dukaj published it, there was a lot of arguments like: “But I still read! My friends, too!” However, we talk about trends in a scale. INTERVIEWER: Yeah, it’s not about you or your friend. BAGINSKI: We talk about global trends. The success of TikTok wouldn’t be possible without that. It’s happening. It’s just easier to watch and click, watch another one, than read a book and follow all those twists and plots. We’ll see how it goes. I think The Witcher is safe for now, there are still a few more years… Maybe it’s because of the generation.

Which is also clearly just a commentary on younger audiences in general and a general shift in the overall trend of how media is consumed and the type of media being consumed. (Also, like, he even says "I think The Witcher is safe for now." ie this argument doesn't even apply to it currently.)

Also just to add, but here's Lauren talking about the reasons behind some of the simplifications and changes, too:

Which mainly has to do with the inherent problems that come from adapting one media form to another along with having a limit amounted of time and resources in which to tell the story.

"‘The Witcher’ Casting Director Says Yennefer Casting Was To ‘Challenge Beauty Standards.’"

In order to get into it, here is what Sophie Holland, the casting director, had to say in the original article from Variety:

Every subsequent article reporting on the original is, once again, just another example of misleading clickbait designed to incite the fanbase against the show and its cast and crew — and clickbait pushing very blatant racist agenda at that. Because either the articles deliberately misconstrued what Sophie said to somehow mean that she thought Anya was ugly even though Sophie obviously did not think that and she was commenting on how whiteness is seen as the default and standard in beauty and she wanted to challenge that ideal and/or the articles were just outright critical of her for wanting diversity.

#the witcher #!txt: the witcher

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mumms-the-word · 5 months

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Duke Belynne Stelmane and the Emperor

currently reading lore stuff about mind flayers for an upcoming deep dive and anyway here's some depressing content about how the Emperor turned Belynne Stelmane into his thrall (probably)

This is not Hot New Lore or a Brand New Theory by any stretch of the imagination, but hear me out

Remember when Wyll talks about meeting Stelmane? How he only saw her twice, but the second time she was very different? They attribute her changes to a stroke.

Wyll: I met her twice. The first time, I was a boy of seven or eight, at a banquet in the Flaming Fist's honour. One look and I was smitten. Chesnut hair that flowed behind her like willow fronds. She floated from one room to the next as if carried by clouds. The second time, Stelmane was...different. Even with the aid of a cane, each step she took was a struggle. Every word she spoke took great physical effort. 'A stroke victim?' I asked my father later. 'No,' he said. 'A stroke survivor.' Not a mere stroke, as it turns out - but the scars of her possession. Gods, what I wouldn't give to drive a dagger through the Emperor's building head. We can never let it do to us what it did to Stelmane.

The last part, the part where Wyll realizes that it was more than a stroke, is conditional upon you calling the Emperor out for possessing or messing with Stelmane, which is when the Emperor literally shows you him possessing her.

youtube

Note the glowy purple eyes and then later the mechanical movements, the fixed stares, the way Stelmane toasts the Emperor as if moved by puppet strings. Her gestures are stiff, as if she's being controlled.

Wyll and his father attribute Stelmane's movements to being part of a stroke. Slurred speech and difficulty moving parts of your body are stroke symptoms, so it's a convenient explanation for her change in behavior and her difficulty with movement and speech. But possession?

No, dear readers, I don't think the Emperor was possessing Stelmane. I think he genuinely made her a literal thrall.

(please excuse the horrible quality lol)

From Volo's Guide to Monsters on Mind Flayers:

A thrall-to-be is first rendered docile through psionic means. Using a low-power version of its Mind Blast ability, the mind flayer bombards the victim with energy that washes through its synapses like acid, clearing away its former personality and leaving it a partially empty shell. This step takes 24 hours. Over the next 48 hours, the illithids rebuild the victim's memories and personality, and the victim gains the skills and talents it needs to perform its intended function.

A Mind Blast that "washes through synapses like acid" sounds a lot like a stroke-adjacent experience to me. Strokes attack the brain, causing parts of the brain to literally die (usually due to a lack of blood flow or oxygen). It could explain Stelmane's stiff movements.

The "clearing away" of her personality and the suggestion of "rebuilding" her memories would also be extremely useful to the Emperor. Rather than exerting the mental energy to possess her all the time, constantly keeping her under concentrated surveillance, all he had to do was literally break her and then rebuild her. She becomes a Stelmane that is only partly herself, and empty shell that he can mold as he pleases.

This is veering into headcanon territory, but I imagine if it was just basic possession, she would move a little more fluidly and naturally than she does in the Emperor's memory. She wouldn't be exhibiting movements and speech that mimic stroke symptoms. That, and there is always the potential she could break free of possession.

But if she's a full-on mind flayer thrall, broken and rebuilt? An empty husk that has had her memories and personality pumped back into her, still under the control of the Emperor? That makes a ton of sense to me. There's no snapping out of that. As the Emperor says when he threatens you...she becomes a puppet.

And the fact that he keeps the threat of doing the same to you in his metaphorical back pocket at all times is honestly quite terrifying.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #the emperor #bg3 emperor #bg3 lore #bg3 meta #bg3 headcanon #kinda a headcanon i guess #anyway this was a quick lore post for funsies #back to your regularly scheduled programs besties #Youtube

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bi-bard · 1 year

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They Tell Each Other Who to Look After and Who to Watch Out For - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: They Tell Each Other Who to Look After and Who to Watch Out For

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Word Count: 1,916 words

Warning(s): abduction, vague threats of violence, actual violence

Summary: After using their power to save the life of their best friend, (Y/n)'s time of running and hiding comes to an abrupt end. Now, they find themselves in a new reality where they can either survive or risk losing everything.

Author's Note: This is the second time in the last like month that I have accidentally started something that turned into an OC. It happened twice.

Also, I thought the pattern of using a line of dialogue as a title was clever, but I fear that I'm going to regret it later.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

---------------------

There was a time when Inej tried to claim that everything that happened to me was her fault. That it all boiled down to one action on one night that she thought was her fault.

She was wrong.

I would say that it was mine, but that also was wrong.

If it all could be traced to one person, then it would be traced back to the man that had tried to attack her.

I reacted out of instinct. I saw Inej get grabbed and my brain focused purely on helping her.

When I had saved Kaz, I was in an enclosed space. But in that situation, it was different.

It all happened before I could truly think about it. She had shoved this man back and as soon as there was enough space, I hit him.

As he fell back, I didn't even think about the arguably small burst of light that had come out of it. Or the chance that I had been spotted by anyone.

"Inej," I said, running over to her. "Are you alright?"

She took a moment to breathe.

"Inej-"

She stopped me by yanking me forward, wrapping her arms around me tightly. I let out a sigh of relief before hugging her back. A small grin formed on my face and my eyes closed for a moment. I was just happy that she was okay.

"Kaz would kill me if he saw that," I muttered as I stepped back.

"I'd like to see him try," she replied.

I laughed quietly, shaking my head. "Come on. We've got a job to do."

She nodded.

We went along with our night without much thought about what had happened.

I believed that I was safe. Or as safe as I could be considering the circumstances of my life.

I was constantly on high alert.

It was a natural part of living in the Barrel. Especially with the reality of who I worked with. Kaz Brekker could make a lot of people angry.

That day was no different than any other.

I was walking down the street, dodging people as best I could. The streets of Ketterdam were rarely not busy. People were usually going to work, just trying to keep their heads above water and maintain whatever vice they had.

It didn't take long for me to notice the men following me. Their eyes were too focused to merely be going the same way as me.

I didn't let them know that I was aware of them. Instead, I took turns that I usually wouldn't. I cut through alleys and took shortcuts that I saw no purpose for. My hope was to lose them by either going fast enough or just by forcing them to get confused.

I didn't get the chance to watch them run like mice in a maze.

One of them grabbed my arms after I had turned down one of the alleys. I yelled, immediately attempting to yank my arms away. I kicked the other man in the chest, causing him to stumble back.

The first man kept my hands apart, but I still struggled.

I pulled and kicked and moved as much as I could in the hopes of getting out of there.

When my attempts to escape went unsuccessful and seemingly unnoticed, I did the first thing that I could think of.

"Kaz!"

I was shoved to the ground as soon as the name left my mouth.

I don't remember anything after that.

My next vivid memory was waking up in some bed somewhere. I shoved myself up immediately, trying to get a hold of my surroundings.

I was sitting on top of the covers of a bed. Easily the comfiest bed I had ever been on. The bed was pushed against the middle of the wall that was furthest from the door. The rest of the room was full of intricate details and littered with pieces of furniture. Clearly, this was meant to be a place of luxury. One that I had never deserved and never wanted.

The room was mostly white. White walls, white bedding, white curtains for the windows, white doors. There were only a few exceptions. The floor was made of wood and laid in an intricate design. Details on furniture, the edge of the mirror, the frames of the chairs, and even the partition meant to give me some semblance of privacy were gold. Splashes of beige were thrown around too. Probably meant to make the room less like a cell than I knew it was.

As I sat in silence, trying to put together my fractured memory and devise a way out of there, I found my mind drifting.

Mainly to Kaz's office.

I had found more comfort in that office than I would probably find anywhere else. I thought back to that first night that showed him my power. And every night that I had been there after that. Moments where I would stand just in front of him, never allowing ourselves to touch. There was this silent longing. Yearning that would feel suffocating as I watched his eyes shift and move.

I would give anything to feel that familiar suffocating feeling again.

I took a deep breath. He would find me. Him and Inej and Jesper. They would find me. They would protect me. I trusted them to do that.

But I could always spare them some of the trip.

I shoved myself out of the bed, pulling on the heavy boots that I had invested in. Jesper made fun of me when he first saw them, but I defended them fiercely. They had lasted me longer than many of his hats had lasted him.

I was about to storm out of the room when the doors opened. I stumbled back a bit when a man walked in.

I composed myself quickly, straightening my spine and planting my feet.

"You're awake," he said. "Good. I hope the room was to your liking."

"Would have enjoyed it more without the kidnapping part," I replied.

He let out an amused huff through his nose. "Necessary steps had to be taken. We were under the impression that you wouldn't come willingly."

I let my eyes scan him. "Who are you?"

"General Kirigan," he held out his hand for me to shake.

Oh. I had heard stories about General Kirigan. I believe that most people had. I had never seen him before. I... I tried to not picture him. He terrified me. I knew that he had been the biggest threat to any freedom I had.

And now he wanted me to shake his hand.

I looked down at it.

"Maybe later," he mumbled, pulling his hand away from me. I looked back at his face.

"Where am I," I asked.

"The Little Palace. Safest place in all of Ravka."

I had to hold back my scoff.

"You'll be safe here-"

"I want to go home," I said bluntly.

"We both why I cannot let you do that," he replied. "You have a responsibility. We have a responsibility to all of Ravka."

"I have no interest in being a hero or a saint."

"You forfeited that decision with your little show in Ketterdam."

I took a deep breath.

"Everyone knows who and what you are now."

"I've had a target on my back my whole life. This is no different."

"It very much is-"

"I am not asking for permission. I am giving you the courtesy of telling you that I'm leaving instead of jumping from the window."

"I wouldn't do that," he advised. "It's a long way down."

Again, I had to bite my tongue.

"The two of us have a chance to do something great. To free everyone. I am begging you to see the good that this could do for everyone."

He stepped closer to me as he spoke. He wanted to convince me so much.

But I had spent far too long hiding and running to sacrifice myself now. I had been taught to run away from exactly this. My parents would cry for me from wherever they ended up. They sacrificed their lives for me to never end up in this situation. To keep me safe. I couldn't let them down like that.

So, I didn't: "I am going home."

"You can," Kirigan said. "After the Fold is down."

"No," I shook my head. "You cannot force me to be some... symbol for your cause."

"I see," he looked down for a moment.

"I am going home," I repeated. He nodded.

I went to walk around him, ready to leave. He watched me the entire time.

I only made it a few steps past him when he spoke up. "So, back to Ketterdam."

I turned to look at him again. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"That's where you want to go, correct," he asked.

"Yes."

"Back to that little family you found," he continued, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Inej, Jesper, and... Kaz. Right?"

I knew what he was trying to do. A small way to show me that he knew about more than merely my existence and where I had been.

I didn't respond because I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of watching me react.

In reality, I wanted to scream at him. Ask why he knew so much about me. Ask how long he had been keeping an eye on me. Ask if he knew while I was in my early days in Ketterdam and he let me form connections so he would have something to hold over my head. I hated that he probably knew more about me than anyone else in my life. Maybe even myself. But I would never let him see that anger and fear. I refused.

"It wouldn't be safe," Kirigan walked closer to me as he spoke again. "For them. You're the sun summoner. And you've been found. You can't hide anymore. From anyone."

I took a deep breath, my jaw clenching. I took note of how his tone darkened on those last two words.

"How long do you think you can protect them on your own," he asked. "That little band of misfits that you've got?"

That was enough for me.

"Let me make something perfectly clear," I snapped as I stepped forward. "If anything happens to any of them and you had anything to do with it, then you will not have the opportunity to use an ounce of my power. Is that understood?"

Kirigan's slight smirk didn't falter, but he did raise an eyebrow at me. "Understood."

I didn't stand down. I was going to make him step away. He took a sharp breath before looking away from me and taking a few steps back.

"You should spend the evening getting settled," he said. "You begin training tomorrow."

He nodded to me as a false sign of respect before stepping around me and leaving the room. It took every ounce of self-control to not try to kill him.

He knew that I couldn't leave. He knew very well that I wouldn't threaten their lives like that. I exposed my secret to keep one of them safe. Leaving now would be selfish.

Fine.

I would stay, I would train, and I would do what I had to to survive and keep the ones that I care for alive.

But no one said that I couldn't make the general's life hell while I was here.

---------------------

Navigation Guide

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

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lostbookreader · 2 years

Text

Not So Secret Feelings

You have been friends with the Sam and Colby crew for a while now which is great except for the feelings towards a certain dark-haired boy that you can’t shake so Corey and Jake help you guys confess to eachother….

It was another slow morning in the house since no one really had any plans until later in the day which is rare nowadays with everyone's busy schedules. Like usual though you were not able to take the opportunity to sleep in like the rest of your roommates, so you were sitting in the living room editing your new video and enjoying the quiet while you could. Finally being able to focus and not feeling tired you were able to knock out a majority of it before you felt the couch sink next to you and have a kiss placed on top of your head.

Looking to your left, Colby had a smile on his face as he was watching the video play on your screen “This was probably one of my favorites we’ve done for your channel. Also good morning gorgeous I didn't think anyone else would be up yet.”

“Good morning Colbs. I've been up for a while and my brain wouldn’t let me sleep anymore so I figured I would try to get this edited before we go meet up with Corey and Jake.” You say before you quickly stop the video so you could cut out the part where you stuttered.

“Woah hey why are you deleting it you should keep it,”

“Absolutely not,” you say while letting out a laugh, “I hate it when I stutter, especially this bad. Plus I don’t want to see any comments about it”

“Well I like it and who cares what they think it shows them your human,”

Shaking your head you mumble about not needing the mix of comments about your stutter and the body or outfit comments that would definitely be in the comment section of this video. Quickly deleting the clip and saving it before Colby could do anything, you miss him looking at you and the sad look on his face. But you both continue to bicker about it as you continue to edit.

The video was just a you and Colby collab which definitely aren’t rare for either of your channels but it was one you were nervous to post. It was one where you bought each other's outfits and revealed them to each other with a try on portion at the end. You both had a blast being able to hang out and film a light hearted video but these ones tended to get more comments leading into the fans thinking you were secretly dating. Which isn't the case. You guys are just best friends that have very flirty and joking personalities which you've tried to make very clear to the fans.

You and him are in the middle of one of your bouts when Sam walks in laughing at you two,

“It’s nine in the morning and you two are already going at it? Just kiss already.”

“Very funny Sam. Why don't you kiss Colby instead?” you say with a laugh which caused the boys to join in as well. Shutting your laptop you stand and start walking towards the stairs, “I'm going to go get ready. Remember we have to meet Jake and Corey for lunch at noon!”

You don't remember when your feelings started for Colby but they have been around for a while and as hard as you try to you can't get rid of them. Ever since Kat introduced you to the group, you and Colby definitely hit it off right away and you were connected at the hip right away which is why after a while you think you started developing your crush. No one in the group knows except for Kat and Corey who picked up a couple months back and have kept it secret for you since. It still hasn't stopped them from encouraging you to admit your feelings for Colby. Which you haven't done obviously. You don't want to jeopardize what you have with him over the silly butterflies you get when you look at him.

What you don’t know is that Colby feels the exact same way about you and just hasn’t built up the guts to confess to you. The only people that know about his feelings towards you are Sam and Jake and just recently Corey. He found out thanks to Jake at a party a few weeks ago making a jab at Colby if he doesn’t make a move on Y/N he was which of course made Corey freak out.

“What's got you so down already this morning man?” Sam asks while tossing a pillow at a zoned out Colby.

“Nothing dude, just thinking. Y/N was editing the video we filmed the other day where we picked each other's outfits and she was so down on herself about her stutter but there's something more that's bugging her. So I'm just figuring out what.”

Sam just shook his head and looked at his friend, “When are you going to ask them out man? It's been what? Almost three years now?”

“Yeah something like that. I just don't want to ruin what we have. No offense but they just get me and it's never been awkward between us. If we started dating and it didn't work out I would be losing a best friend.”

“Except you would work out dude. You guys are literally a match made in heaven.”

“You're hilarious dude, it's never that easy. I'm going to go get ready.”

Ironically enough you actually decide to wear the shirt Colby bought for you in your video but work it more into your style. It was a cropped tight fitted red shirt that you decided to wear with your favorite black cargo pants, a necklace Colby got you guys for christmas last year and your favorite converse. With some extra accessories thrown into the outfit you made your way downstairs.

Kat and Colby are at the bottom talking about how Sam always took the longest out of everyone to get ready, but Colby stops when he sees you and smiles, “you're wearing the shirt I bought you!”

“Of course I am. I told you I liked it. I just didn't feel like me.” You say as he grabs you and pulls you into a hug.

“I thought you looked great but I definitely like your outfit more.�� He says while he glances down and notices the necklace you have on.

“You two are adorable please tell me you didn't plan on wearing the same necklace today?” Kat asks while she gives you a quick hug and you mumble about how it wasn't planned.

Kat definitely always tries to get some rise out of you whenever Colbys is around, probably to try and get you to slip about your feelings for him. Thankfully you haven’t. Yet. The games continue throughout your lunch with Jake and Corey and like most social situations you and Colby tend to mostly talk to each other rather than with the group. Which caused you to miss them discussing the plan on getting one of you to confess to the other.

The plan happens a few weeks later when all of you are hanging out at the house having your usual pizza night and watching movies. You and Colby are sharing the big bean bag chair cuddling with a blanket while everyone else has their spot on the couch. Corey and you had kept making eye contact throughout the night where he would be making kissy faces at you and Colby and other silly faces which you responded with eye rolls and hiding your face in Colby’s neck.

At some point Sam needed to go to the bathroom so everyone was either on their phones or talking to one another. Colby and you were looking at his phone and you made a joke about him liking a random Instagram photo about you two dating which then in turn led to you being tickled.

“Colby please! I can’t breathe. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you gasp out in between laughs which makes him smile.

“That's what you get for making fun of —--,”

He didn't get to finish his sentence because of Jake and Corey both standing up and the later exclaiming, “I can’t deal with this anymore. You two need to confess your feelings for each other.”

Corey picks you up and throws you on his shoulder while Jake takes Colby’s arm and takes you guys to Colby’s room.

He sets you on the ground before putting his hands on your shoulders and shakes you a little bit, “You two do not get to leave until Colby knows that you are madly in love with him,” before he turns to Colby and points at him “and until y/n knows that you have loved them ever since we met them. Do I make myself clear?”

You two just stand there limply staring at the two while Jake continues, “He and I will be outside to make sure but also know that we have three cameras hidden which we will be checking. So no trying to lie or scheme to get out of this. This has gone on long enough and we want you both to be happy. Now go.”

They both turn and walk out of the room shutting the door behind them, leaving you and Colby standing there not knowing what to do. You were the first one to break, not doing well with the silence and nerves building inside you.

“I am s-s-s-so sorry. I didn’t know they were going to do this and now it’s gonna be awkward. I get it if you don't feel anything for me. I really do. My feelings just kinda happened and came out of nowhere. I was just going to let them die out b-b-b-but they never did. I-I-I wasn’t going to do anything or tell anyone but then Kat and C-C-Corey found out and they have been trying to get me to do it since. Now it's awkward. B-b-but I can promise you I am okay with staying frie-,”

Your rambling gets cut off by Colby placing his lips on yours and him lightly cupping your face. Definitely hesitant to fully do it to try not to scare you but your eyes flutter shut and kiss back. He slowly wraps his hand around my hips as I cup his neck to get us even closer than before while he deepens the kiss by gently biting your lip and slipping his tongue inside to brush with yours. You're not sure who pulls away first but you are both smiling as you catch your breath.

“You are so cute when you stutter,” He whispers while he rubs your cheek and watches you bite your lip.

“If my stuttering gets you to kiss me like that every time then I suddenly love when I do that,” you chuckle before finally looking at him with a smile.

You both laugh before he looks at your lips one more time before kissing you again. He keeps it soft before pulling away too soon, “I know we just skipped a step or two but is now a good time to ask you if you will go on a date with me?”

Laughing, you nod your head yes before you pull him into another kiss.

#imagine #colby x reader #sam golbach #colby brock imagine #sam and colby #fluff #imagines #fanfic #colby brock

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starry-nights-garden · 1 year

Text

Wooyoung ✧ Blank Pages

✧ Ateez Wooyoung x gn!reader ✧ words: ~1.3k ✧ genre: fluff, comfort, some humor, Jung Wooyoung being the perfect human he is ✧ warnings: none, (mentions of him running his hand through reader's hair)

Desc.: Writing is your passion, but sometimes things in life happen that render you unable to do so, leaving you feeling quite depressed as a result. And sometimes you’re lucky that you have someone on your side who manages to distract you from all those bad feelings.

You’re sitting at the desk in your room, fingertips tracing the paper of your notebook and following the lines filled with words in your handwriting. A bittersweet smile sits on your lips as you reread your own stories and poems, written mostly in black or blue ink. The very first pieces in this book must be well over a year old, while the last one was written probably a month ago. It was the last thing you’ve written, actually. Because ever since then you’ve been facing some heavy writer’s block, probably caused by the stress that some unlucky circumstances have been inflicting on you ever since around that time. You remember the way you felt like you had to squeeze the words out of your hands, in order for them to flow onto the paper, and the exhaustion that overcame you afterwards was new. Sure, writing requires some brain juice and energy, but usually it’s more of a content, rewarding feeling you get after you finish a piece. However, this time it was different, and ever since then you’ve found yourself unable to write more than a few words, and even those come with a disproportionate amount of exhaustion.

Of course it makes you sad, though you’re trying to accept that you just need to be patient and wait for things to get better, so your mind will be less clouded and your heart won’t feel so heavy all the time. Still, you love writing, and the urge to write is growing stronger each day, even though everytime you sit down to actually do it, you run into the same walls you always do recently, and in the end you have to admit defeat against the empty paper. Caught up in your thoughts, you let out a long breath.

“Why are you sighing so much again?” A voice suddenly resounds behind you, followed by footsteps leading to where you’re sitting. You have been so sunken into your worries that you must not have heard your boyfriend, who has just placed one hand onto the backrest of your chair and is now peeking over your shoulder after entering your room. “You’re writing?” Wooyoung guesses, but he corrects himself as he quickly assesses the situation. “Trying to?”

“Just reading my old stuff,” you retort, followed by a bitter laugh. “I feel like even just picking up a pen these days requires way too much effort…” He remains silent for a while. You’ve talked about this with him before, so it’s not like you need to thoroughly explain how you feel or why you feel like that. You know he understands, and that there isn’t really anything he can say to help you with this. Still, he makes you look up at him by pressing a short kiss onto your temple, and you watch as he moves to the right side of the desk, crouching down not far from you. He puts his hands on the wooden surface, and between them his chin, resting his head there as he glances up at your face.

“Once upon a time… write that!” he suddenly urges you on, shooting your pens a look, and then another one when you don’t immediately follow his instructions, this time with more emphasis.

“What are you even trying to achieve…?” you ask, and though you can somehow imagine what the answer will be - and also that his plan isn’t going to work - you still can’t help but smile at the way he’s making an effort for your sake.

“Just do what I say!!” he answers. “Trust me.”

“Fine…” you mumble, reaching out for a random pen and turning to an empty page. A heavy sigh leaves your lips, but Wooyoung doesn’t let himself be bothered by you already losing faith.

“Once upon a time, there was a handsome- no, a super handsome!!! young man, who…” You cut him off.

“I’m not writing a story about you,” you complain, shooting him a half strict, half amused glance.

“Why would it be about me?!” an enraged Wooyoung throws back, and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t describe yourself as a super handsome young man?”

“No-. I-… fine, maybe it was supposed to be about me,” he eventually admits. “Can’t you write stories about your boyfriend once in a while?” he adds, whining.

“I already wrote a lot about you-”

“A few things!! And never the stuff I suggest!” he keeps complaining, the playful sparkle in his eyes only growing with each exchange of words between you two.

“Well, writing about a spaghetti-hero is ridiculous… what even is that supposed to be? I still don’t get it,” you laugh. “A superhero who cooks really delicious spaghetti? Or-”

“His beams are made of spaghetti! The ones he shoots - like this!” Wooyoung gets up, posing like spiderman when he’s about to shoot his spiderwebs at something, accompanied by sound effects produced by himself. “But also,” he leans against the desk now, “I was half asleep and kinda drunk when I said that. Don’t use the weird things I say!”

“Alright,” you answer. “But what you suggested right now is weird too.”

“Oh, you think it’s weird that you’re dating a super handsome guy?” He already has his next comeback ready, and though he’s trying to look offended, he can’t keep his face from forming a childlike grin any longer, which in turn makes you let out a short laugh too. Before you can respond, he suddenly points at you, exclaiming, “But it cheered you up, didn’t it?”

“I guess…” you say through a smile, before you set down the pen and get up to wrap your arms around his body. Even despite the happiness he sparked deep in your chest, your shoulders feel heavy, and you’re thankful when he returns the embrace and holds you close, so you don’t have to support your entire weight by yourself. “It’s okay,” you mumble with your face hidden in his chest. “I don’t have the capacities to write these days. I’ll just have to wait until things pass…” He brings one of his hands up to your head, combing his fingers through your hair carefully, before his lips meet your forehead. This time he drags the kiss out for a bit, letting his touch linger on your skin.

“I know…” he says, and you can clearly tell the way he swallows a “but”. Instead of expressing how sorry he feels for you and how much he hates seeing you like this, he goes for words more helpful than that. “Let’s do something together then,” he suggests, taking a step to the side and putting one arm around your waist. “We can make dinner together, or watch something if you’re too tired for that.” To be quite honest with yourself, you’re too tired for either of those, but at the same time you know he has a million ways to cheer you up and to charge your exhausted batteries with some power, so you nod.

“Dinner sounds good,” you say, and he walks you out of your room, giving you a little push on the back in the process. Just from that gesture alone you feel fresh energy running through your veins, and you add, “What do you wanna make?”

“…Spaghetti?” Wooyoung suggests after thinking for a moment, and you laugh.

“So long as you don’t do anything stupid with them…” As if that was his cue, he lets go of you and jumps a few steps back, pretending to shoot spaghetti-beams against the walls of your apartment. The ridiculous scene unfolding right in front of your eyes causes you to burst out laughing.

“Like this?” he questions.

“Yes. Please don’t do that,” you plead, and he gives you a serious look, pretending to think for a while. Eventually, he seems to have reached a conclusion as his expression returns to a playful smile and he grabs your hand.

“Alright. But only if I get a kiss!” he demands, and you have to chuckle once again.

“I think that can be arranged,” you mumble in response as you reach out to put your arms around his shoulders, and you draw closer to him.

#ateez fluff #ateez drabbles #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung drabbles #wooyoung fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #fluff

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jiminniethemarshmallow · 2 years

Text

Drunken Love (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff

Word count: ~6k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, tipsy sex (but sober enough to consent!!), light Dom!Reader, subby Jimin

(A/N): I’m really proud of myself for finishing this today. Also I almost forgot to post before I fell asleep lmao oops

You’re the designated driver tonight. Jimin is more than a little tipsy now, having promised you earlier not to drink too much, yet he still reached out his glass when they popped open another bottle, instructing Jungkook to fill it to the brim. You’d stopped him and snatched his glass away causing him to pout and the other boys to boo at you.

“Just one more glass, baby, please??” He begged with his best puppy eyes, but the last time you agreed he ended up crying on the floor of your shared bathroom and refusing all of your attempts to get him ready for bed like a stubborn child. And you’d be damned if you let that happen again, so instead you ordered him a glass of water and offered a kiss as an apology. Thank goodness you made him eat something before you went out; who knows how fucked up he’d be if you hadn’t.

Anyway, now you’ve made your way home, pulling into your driveway and placing the car in park, only to find Jimin staring at you longingly. He cheeks are that pretty shade of pink they get each time he drinks and his hair is fluffed from all the times he’d run his hands through it tonight. As you stare back at him he doesn’t say a word, only offering you a goofy smile when you instruct him to leave the car. He follows a few paces behind you on the way to the door, silent while you unlock it and push it open, but when you step through the threshold he doesn’t follow. With furrowed eyebrows, you turn to find him standing on the doorstep looking back at you with that same longing expression, wiping his hands on his pants as if he’s nervous about something.

“Are you coming in?” You quirk your head to the side in confusion when he doesn’t move. “C’mon.” You reach your left hand out to him to encourage him to follow you inside, but instead, when he takes it he pulls you closer, frowning slightly.

“Baby, I love you so much.” Jimin presses a kiss to your lips that you gladly accept with a chuckle. Although he can sometimes be a messy drunk, he always gets sappy and affectionate with you, more than he already is. What you don’t expect, however, is for him to lower himself down onto one knee before you, clutching your hand tightly. “Will you marry me?” Your mouth drops open but he continues before you get a word in. “(Y/n), I love you so, so much and I just think you’re such a beautiful person, like, you’re just so fucking perfect. I always want you by my side, jagiya. I can’t live without you.”

You can’t help but laugh at his confession, biting your lip at his cuteness as you peer down at him from your position. He looks up at you in anticipation, his sincere eyes melting your heart. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” He responds meekly, eyes wet. “I’m sorry, I don’t have a ring for you right now but I’m serious.” An endearing look takes over your face and you reach out with your right hand to brush loose strands of hair away from his lovely face.

“I’m glad you feel that way, baby. Don’t worry about the ring, you already got me one.” With this, you nod to the hand still clutched in his, his fingers subconsciously playing with the diamond already perched there. He looks down at it but you can see his brain isn’t computing with this means. His head tilts in confusion. “Jagiya, we’re already married! The wedding was last year, remember?”

At this, he pauses, thinking for a moment before it dawns on him. He makes a sound of realization, mumbling “oh yeah, I do remember that” and rising to his feet. A bashful smile graces his cheeks and all you can do is shake your head, walking into the house and beckoning him in after you.

“Now get your drunk ass in this house before bugs fly in.” You grin, swatting at the moths surrounding the porch light.

“Yes ma’am.” He follows obediently this time, taking off his shoes and making his way into the house.

You find yourself making noodles for him upon his request, deciding not to fuss about it because you don’t entirely trust him to use any kitchen appliances right now. You make a bowl for yourself and eat with him on the couch while watching an episode of whatever show he was in the mood for. By the time the next episode starts Jimin is fast asleep next to you, and instead of waking him up you simply cuddle into his side and continue watching the show. You aren’t really in the mood to get cleaned up yourself so being lazy for another 30 minutes won’t hurt. Well, actually, another hour and a half. Each episode kept ending on a cliffhanger and you couldn’t just stop watching there and go to bed without knowing what happens. You’ve seen this show before, of course, but it’s exciting every time you watch it. The next time you check the clock, you gasp at how late it’s gotten. Deciding it’s finally time to get up, you look over at your sleeping husband who fidgets when your weight leaves his side.

“He’s so cute.” You whisper to yourself, taking one hand and squishing his rounded, pink cheeks between your fingers until his lips are puckered. His eyes crack open ever so slightly at the sound of your giggle, glancing at you lazily before shutting again. “Baby, it’s time to get ready for bed.” You tell him in a hushed tone, trying not to ruin the sleepy atmosphere of your home. Jimin takes a second to respond, groaning softly and reaching out to you, to which you take his hint and swing your leg over him, straddling his hips to sit comfortably in his lap. He peers up at you with half-shut eyes and a pout and you just can’t resist the urge to lean in and kiss it. Soft and pillowy against yours, the innocence of his lips is nothing like the stiffness you feel pressing into your thigh.

Dammit. You thought you’d gotten off easy tonight, but you have no such luck. Aside from getting sappy and proposing to you again, Jimin always tends to get horny when he drinks— whether you’re there with him or not while he’s out, he can’t seem to think of anything other than touching you— and you’re always left dealing with his semi hard-on and wandering hands once he gets home. If you’d gone to bed without him, he’d go as far as waking you up with his neediness instead of handling it himself, so you know you won’t be able to escape him easily tonight. Not that you want to. Your sex drive is just as high as his most of the time and simply feeling his arousal is enough to get your insides stirring on most occasions. Tonight is no different.

His hands slither around your waist to grab hold of your ass through the material of your skirt, subtly grinding your hips on him as he indulges in your mouth. Breaking from the kiss, you lightly place a hand over his crotch, not missing the way his hips squirm for friction. “Jimin, it’s late.” You try to reason (halfheartedly, of course), but the expression of lust only deepens as he looks at the way your wet lips form the words.

“‘M not sleepy anymore.” He mumbles, planting sultry kisses along your collarbone. “Can’t sleep when I’m hard.”

“You were sleeping just fine a minute ago.” You laugh, breath hitching when his teeth catch your skin. You don’t mind taking care of him right now, and honestly you never do, but you have to put up at least a little resistance. Otherwise he’ll think you’re weak when it comes to him. And you are, but he doesn’t need to know just how irresistible he is to you.

He doesn’t argue your point, instead sucking light bruises into your neck that he knows are just dark enough for people to see when you leave the house tomorrow. You love when he claims you that way, marking you as his as if the rock on your finger isn’t enough evidence. His possessiveness over you doesn’t change even when he tends to be submissive on drunk nights like these. “Will you take care of it for me, baby? Please?” The airy quality of his voice is all it takes to convince you, the hand that rests on his bulge now unbuttoning his slacks and palming him over his boxers.

“You want me to make you cum?” You ask sweetly, tracing the outline of his growing cock through the material. He’s impressive even when only half hard and your mouth drools when you think about just how good it feels when he’s using it. Pulling it out of its confines, you spit on your palm to offer him a few wet strokes, fascinated by how quickly he hardens in your grasp. Many times you have sat and stared at the magical way he doubles in size, how the skin stretches to accommodate the length, how the color changes with the rush of blood through the veins that pulse at the surface. The sight is so sexy to you that you barely suppress a groan when he finally stands erect in your palm.

“Yes, please.” Jimin whispers, leaning his head against the back of the couch as your fingers tease his tip. You use the tip of your fingers to tickle the flesh of his tip, smirking at the way he throbs, before enclosing your fist around his head and stroking all the way to the base. You take up a leisurely pace, watching the flickers of pleasure flit across his handsome face each time your wrist twists or your grip tightens.

Jimin loves the way you touch him. There’s something about how your eyes remain trained on your movements and how you nibble on your lower lip that tells him you enjoy this just as much as he does. The weight of him in your hands makes your mouth water, each caress up his length so careful and calculated— like you’re studying him to see just how much you can make him squirm. But you don’t need to study him, you already know him inside and out, so when you shift tactics he knows it’s because you want him to cum as quickly as possible. With both hands— and some more spit and precum as lube— you begin a quick pace up and down his cock. Almost as if you were fucking him with your hands. Jimin chokes on a moan at the suddenness, his sweet tenor going up in pitch when you squeeze just a little tighter. He doesn’t know when his eyes slide closed, but he’s completely engrossed in the euphoria of your skills, giving his full body for you to play with.

“Mm, baby, look at how much you’re leaking for me.” You mewl to him, and he peeks his eyes open to stare at the stream of precum dribbling from his slit. He feels how slippery it gets when you spread it, the glossy glide and your accompanying moans having his hips jumping restlessly beneath you. “Stay still.” You command sharply but quietly, meeting his eyes with a quick yet powerful glare. He whines so softly in the back of his throat that he doesn’t think you’ll hear it, but you do and immediately stop your hands. “If you were just going to fuck yourself then you could’ve taken care of this on your own and I could’ve gone to bed. But you asked me to take care of it, did you not?”

With a shaky breath, Jimin squeaks out a yes, eyes wide after being reprimanded and desperate for you to resume. You know Jimin thrives from praise, which makes it even more effective when you scold him. You only need to tell him once when it comes to things like this because he loves to please you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little kick out of seeing his submissive expression every time. So you scold him for moving his hips when you usually love how desperate he looks when fucking into your hands or mouth.

“Okay, then sit still and take it and you’ll get to cum.” At this he slumps deeper into the couch, relaxing his entire body until you start up again and his abs flex at the pleasure. Wishing you could see this, one of your hands skims up to lift his shirt, raising it up to his chin level to expose his abdomen. “Hold this.” You tell him, and he obediently takes the edge of the shirt between his teeth to keep it raised. The amusement in your eyes makes his nipples harden as you murmur a “good boy” with a pinch to each of the peaks.

Once both of your hands return to his throbbing cock, he knows he’s a goner. The squelch of you working him up and down has his eyes rolling even though you choose to go at a slower pace than before. Sweat has accumulated on his flushed skin, his neck red and shiny when he throws his head back, and you take this chance to leave light marks to match your own on his collarbones— making sure they’re light enough to fade within a day. You don’t even realize that you’re moaning along with him, the noises quiet and needy, but so close to his ear that he can’t miss them. He also doesn’t miss the subtle way you wiggle your hips in search of friction, most likely leaking through your panties under the skirt you’re wearing. It takes all of his strength to hold his own hips still, panting raggedly every time your top hand twists around his tip. He becomes impatient for his oncoming orgasm, wanting nothing more than to cum from your touch after being horny for so long.

“F-Faster, please. ‘M close-“ he slurs, no longer drunk from alcohol yet feeling his head spin for an entirely different reason now. And when his eyes meet your own he can see that you’ve also become intoxicated with lust, biting your lip and breathing heavily as your lower hand slides down to cup his balls, the top one speeding up and focusing on his tip. “Oh fuuuck,” he groans, digging his fingers into your thighs to keep himself from thrusting into your hand to completion.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my hand.” You whisper in his ear, licking your way down until you suck one of his nipples into your mouth. It feels so good when you twirl your tongue around the bud, the sensations going straight to the place between his legs where your hands are furiously working, and he lets out his loudest moan yet, his thighs trembling beneath you. Seeing Jimin so submissive and needy like this makes your clit throb and your hands speed up, tugging lightly on his balls as they also start to tighten and throb with his built up release. But what sends him over the edge is when you switch to sucking at his other nipple and your teeth bite down on the pert nub softly, the spark of pain sending him flying into a colorful high that has his voice breaking with whines of your name and curses and a few stray tears down his reddened cheeks. Ropes of his semen soil your hand, dripping down your knuckles and his shaft in thick globs. You watch in rapt fascination at the way he twitches when you milk the last drops out of him, slathering the white liquid against his skin messily.

Jimin’s eyes look to yours for approval after he collects himself a bit, only to find your face to be contorted in an expression of pained lust. Yes, you only did this to help him out, but it’s clear that you now need help too— which is very convenient because Jimin is just dying to pay you back for the amazing orgasm you just brought him. He drops the shirt from his mouth, leaning up to capture your lips in a grateful kiss that you break far too quickly for his liking.

“We should head to bed.” You whisper to him, shuffling off of his lap before he can protest and cleaning up the rest of your things from the coffee table. He huffs before pushing off of the couch, following closely behind you as you switch off the lights on the way to your bedroom.

Suddenly, his arms wrap around you, spinning you against the wall of the hallway, pressing your back to it, an impatient and hungry look in his eyes that has your heart skipping a beat. His bold move doesn’t change the submissiveness you sense in him, however, because the look in his eye tells you that you’re still the one in control. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he attacks your mouth with his, this time pressing you against the wall so you can’t break away as easily. His tongue mingles with yours and you taste noodles and champagne, a silly reminder of tonight’s events, but the thought is soon forgotten when his hands start sliding lower on your hips. They immediately slip under your skirt to feel at the wet patch he knew he’d find in the center of your panties. Just the pressure of two of his fingers is enough to have you twitching, and Jimin pushes the material to the side to feel your arousal directly.

He swears there’s a lake between your legs when he dips his fingers into your entrance, your pussy drooling for him just because of a handjob, and suddenly Jimin wants to absolutely drown in you. His knees hit the floor faster than you can register. You can see his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he rushes to push your skirt and panties out of the way, tossing one of your legs over his shoulder so hastily that it almost knocks you off balance and you have to clutch onto his sturdy shoulders to stabilize. His eyes look desperate as he gazes at the magic between your thighs, a sight he’s seen countless times but finds just as mesmerizing as the first time he laid eyes on you. He can never get enough of your juicy lower lips, or the slick pink pearl that swells and throbs for attention, or the shiny slick that drips down in one long string from your opening and sticks onto your thighs, making it so very tempting to simply slide his thick length into you just to feel you make a mess of his lap. But that’ll have to wait until later because having you spread out like his favorite meal is making Jimin’s mouth water uncontrollably and he can no longer hold himself back.

Looking to you for permission, he dives in head first when you nod your approval, your eyes holding the same desperation as his. His hands are warm as they grip your ass, pulling you close to his face so that he can lick up the entirety of your core in one single swipe, drinking down your essence like the flute of champagne he downed earlier in the night. Except, you have a much sweeter taste than even the finest champagne. He moans deeply as you coat his tongue, pushing the muscle into your hole as far as it will go, caressing your walls just to tease you and get you to clench for him.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” you giggle breathlessly, running your fingertips through his silky hair after removing your top. “How do I taste?”

“Absolutely divine,” Jimin hums with his mouth full of pussy, barely pulling away enough to speak. You grin, massaging his scalp as a reward when he plants a firm kiss on your clit.

“Good. Now be a good boy and make me cum.” And he does just that, attacking your clit with flicks of his tongue that make you shake. He knows just the right amount of pressure to use, starting gently with teasing circles with the tip of his tongue and gradually working his way up until he’s using the flat of his tongue to devour you whole. Your voice echos in the emptiness of the hallway, back arching off the wall when his fingers enter you and immediately reach up into the spongy spot inside you. It’s been less than 5 minutes and you’re already rocking your hips, fucking yourself against his face as he continues to lick and suck at your nerves. Despite having just recently cum, Jimin feels his cock coming back to life with every moan of his name, every pulse he feels around his fingers, every tug on the roots of his hair. His free hand grabs a handful of your ass, pulling you ever closer and smothering himself in your heat, covering his face in your taste and smell and absolutely loving it.

Seeing him so lost in you is what gets you to the edge, your hands searching the smooth walls for something to grab onto until they land on the back of his head to hold him in place, encouraging him to keep going. “Fuck!” You curse, voice now taking on a whiny quality as you approach your high. Far too absorbed in the feeling of him sucking and licking wetly on your clit, you pray your supporting leg doesn’t give out on you in this moment as you feel your knee wobbling weakly already. But your husband is nothing if not attentive, and just as you think this he uses his strength to raise you up higher, practically lifting you off the ground and never faltering in his pace. The display of strength and the way his muscles bulge from his arms and shoulders has you panting breathlessly in his hold and the knot in your core winds up so tightly that you let out a little shriek when it reaches its peak, Jimin’s eyes now staring up at you as you grind against his tongue and use him to get your orgasm. When you cum your head flies back, smacking into the wall, but you feel nothing but the blinding bliss of Jimin’s tongue licking you slowly and drinking up the essence that leaks from you. He swallows it down like his favorite wine, holding you to his face and indulging in you for as long as you’ll allow him.

You signal him to stop with a push to his forehead and he’s careful when steadying your feet on the ground, sneaking a few more kisses to your mound before standing up himself. His soft hands never leave your waist as he watches you recover. They skim up and down your sides in a way that’s comforting but also tells you that he’s ready for more if you are. There’s silence as he looks at you, completely prepared to obey whatever you tell him— whether that be “let’s shower and head to sleep” or “fuck me into oblivion”. Thankfully for him, it’s the latter. Your hands reach for his stiffened cock, pumping him back to full hardness and smirking at his dropped jaw.

“You’re so good at eating pussy.” You giggle, at a loss for words yourself. Leaning forward, you kiss up the skin of his sweat soaked neck, reveling in the shudders that course through his body at the gentle touch of your lips. Your tongue peeks out to trace the shell of his ear before you’re whispering to him again. “I want you to fuck me.”

Faster than you can blink, Jimin’s hands are pulling at your thighs, lifting you from the ground to wrap them around his waist as he pins you against the wall. Lips sloppily finding yours, it’s hard to catch your breath when he’s swallowing you whole like this, desperate to get inside you and show how much he wants you— how much you turn him on, how badly he needs every bit of you. Wordlessly, you guide his tip to your entrance, not surprised that there’s a trail of your wetness hanging down from your body that he easily captures and smears back into you. That first stroke has always been one of your favorite things about sex with Jimin. No matter how fast paced and needy both of you are, things always slow down when it’s time for him to push inside of you. He always waits just a second to catch your eyes before pushing in, making sure you’re ready and wanting to see your expression when the first few inches of his cock squeeze past your ring of muscles. You gasp, pulling him closer and staring deep into his eyes as he continues to descend into your depths, filling you up so deliciously that your head begins to spin. You only break eye contact to watch the last half of his hardness disappear into you and his pelvis press against you in that way that makes you want to keep him there forever. And the feeling is mutual.

The inside of your pussy is so soft and warm that Jimin thinks he could live there, enveloped in your silky wetness until the end of his days. The bliss he feels when he pulls back and your walls cling onto him with such greed makes him eager to thrust back in, reaching deeper with each press of his hips that follows. Your fingers grip onto his shoulders, head thrown back at the way he fucks you so perfectly, his pace slow enough that you can feel how his thick length stretches you, yet fast enough that you feel fireworks shooting up your spine and exploding throughout your body.

“Shit, jagiya, you feel so fucking good!” Your husband groans, eyes never leaving your face. His hands have a death grip on your ass, holding you up and in place so he can pound into you. Your voice moans out for him without restraint, your heels digging into his back to make sure he stays as close as possible, as deep as possible. His hips roll expertly, searching and finding that sensitive spot inside you that makes you yelp in pleasure and squeeze your thighs tighter. “Do you like that, baby? Am I making you feel good?” He asks, though you’re certain your body language is giving him a clear answer. Briefly, you remember that he wants you to be in charge, but you can’t drop the whine from your voice with the way he’s making your mind go blank like this.

“Yes yes! You make me feel so good, Jimin, please don’t stop!” You cry out, sure your face is wrinkled in an almost pained expression. But it only serves to encourage him more, hips snapping into you faster and more powerfully until you are practically bouncing up the wall. The skin of your back isn’t happy with the motion but your pussy is. It coats him in layer after layer of slick, his cock making you wetter every time his tip slams into that spongy spot inside you. You’re babbling by this point, pleading for him to keep fucking you even as sweat pours down his face and chest from exertion and even when his limbs shake from how close he’s getting to his own orgasm.

He slows to a subtle grind as he tries to calm himself, burying his face in your delicate neck and pressing you closer to his body. Both of you close your eyes and get lost in the rocking motion, breaths ragged in each other’s ears. His cheek presses against yours to nuzzle into you and you press back to show how much you absolutely adore him. He’s fucking you in the hallway of your home at an ungodly hour of the night— well technically morning now— and you still can’t get enough of him. Not even with his pelvis rubbing against your clit as he circles his hips. Not even with your sweat staining an outline of your back and ass crack against the wall. Not even with his fingers holding onto you so securely that you may very well have his fingerprints imprinted into your skin when he lets go.

“Do you want to cum, baby?” You ask in a sultry voice, not unaware of how he throbs within you.

“Yes, please.” Jimin moans in the voice he only uses when he’s close. Taking note of how his arms seem to be tired from holding you up, you offer him some reprieve.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” Immediately, he pulls out of you and places you on the ground, kissing your lips before practically running to the bedroom, stripping his clothes along the way. Watching his ass as he leaves you makes you giggle, the globes jiggling a little as he hops on one foot to snatch his pants and boxers off. You rid yourself of your own clothing as you follow behind him, picking up the trail he left in his eagerness.

When you enter the room Jimin is already laying on the bed, looking at the way you saunter toward him after you remove your last garment. His hand flies to his dick, taking a gentle hold and pumping slowly as not to overexcite himself before you get the chance to touch him again, and the sight makes you want to lose control and take him down your throat. God, his hand looks so hot wrapped around himself like that, spreading your essence around his shiny skin— but no, you’re committed to teasing him in this moment. Ever so slowly, you crawl onto the bed, making your way to him like a panther stalking it’s prey. And Jimin presents himself as the most docile creature there is, eyes wide and hesitant, yet just as hungry as your own. You skim your lips up his muscular thighs until you leave kisses on his hip bones, noting how he twitches and gasps at your slow movements and light touches. He’s well aware that you have the power to take away his orgasm (though he doesn’t know you don’t have the heart to do it tonight) so he doesn’t protest when you push his hand away from his cock and continue to tease around it. The muscles in his abdomen tense as you trace your fingers up their lines, using your nails on their way back down to tickle his wired nerves, and he’s so sensitive that he can hardly handle that without thrusting up into the open air. A single one of your fingers distracts itself with one of his nipples as you move to straddle him, seating yourself on the hot skin of his dick without putting him inside. He’s at his wit’s end, you can tell, but your boy is always so patient and obedient, and you have to praise him for it.

“You’re such a good boy, waiting for me like this,” you smile. “You look so pretty when you’re desperate for me. That’s why I can’t help but tease you.” Adding a roll of your hips, you watch in fascination as your lover tosses his head back into the pillows, jaw slacked and chest heaving. You really should put him out of his misery, but seeing him like this makes you hornier than you’d like to admit and the feeling of his length sliding back and forth against your clit is too good to stop. The look on his face— his furrowed brow, shut eyelids, peach colored cheeks, parted lips that he wets with a quick lick of his skilled tongue— makes you want to keep him like this for as long as possible, but its so late at night and you really should end this quickly. Luckily for you, both of you are already near the edge. “How bad do you want me to fuck you?”

“So so so bad, jagi, please I’ll do anything!” Jimin squeaks, all composure he had gone and replaced by neediness. He opens his eyes to look at you, pleading silently that you’ll give in and you take pity on him.

“Anything?” He nods without hesitation. “Then kiss me.” Leaning forward, you connect lips with him messily, grateful that his hands come up to stabilize your hips because one of yours is reaching down to fit him inside you again. A deep moan sounds against your lips as you finally sink down on him again. He can barely focus on keeping his lips on yours so you pull away first, glancing down to see him peering up at you in question. Words fail him so he conveys what he wants by moving his hips under you, lifting his eyebrows to ask for permission, and the moment you nod he’s using all of his strength to fuck up into you from underneath.

Jimin has powerful hips that shove you forward, nearly crashing into him from the first thrusts, but the grip he has on your hips keeps you steady above him as he works below. The pace is fast and relentless, hitting you in places that have since gone undiscovered, and you find that you’re the one who’s breathless now. All you can do is support yourself with his chest and hold on for dear life as he fucks the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost out of you with everything he has. It’s reckless and sloppy, sometimes hitting a bit too deep, yet somehow that makes it feel all the more intense and you feel your high mounting alongside his. The loud clap of your thighs hitting his pelvis drowns out the sound of your breathing, but soon the room is filled with both of your moans when Jimin angles his hips just right and makes you clench around him.

“I’m gonna cum, jagi, I can’t hold it.” He gasps, eyes already rolling and body moving on autopilot. But you’re fairing no better, nails now digging into his delicate skin and legs shaking on either side of his body. Or is that just the force of his thrusts shaking you? You have no way to tell and frankly don’t care, not when it feels so fucking good to have him squeezing at your hip bones and begging you to let him cum. “Can I cum? Please let me cum, I’m so fucking close!” Tears prick at the corner of his eyes and you swipe them away as they fall.

“Yes you can cum, my beautiful boy. Cum for me.” Encouraging him gently, you squeeze your walls in anticipation for his seed, and it feels much more intense with the added friction, your limbs rapidly losing control. Jimin nearly shouts at the resistance against his cock, a string of moans and curses leaving his plump, swollen lips. His hips lift off the bed, carrying you with them, and he begins to cum, covering your insides in a sticky white mess that starts to drip back down his shaft immediately. And feeling him pulse inside you with every shot of semen pushes you over the edge too and your pussy flutters around him in bliss. Head thrown back, you look like a goddess atop him, skin dewy, nipples hard, back arched, the sight alone is enough to pull out two more powerful pulses from Jimin’s dick, and both of you collapse into a heap of shuddering, trembling bodies.

Neither of you can move for several minutes, simply gasping for air into each other’s necks and basking in the aftershocks of your powerful climaxes. His hand rubs along your back as you close your eyes, all of your tiredness hitting you exactly at this moment. It’s late and you want nothing more than to sleep, but Jimin takes it upon himself to be the responsible one this time and encourages you to get up.

“C’mon, we have to clean up.” His fingers continue to stroke up and down, doing nothing to make you want to move from your position.

“Why can’t we just wait til the morning?” You mumble, perfectly content to just lay there and listen to his heartbeat.

“Because we’re sweaty and gross and you need to do your UTI pee.” He reasons, this time pushing at your shoulder so that you roll off of him after his soft cock slips out of you. He reaches over to the bedside table and hands you a water bottle, which you sit up to chug until it’s empty, leaving him nothing. He gives you a flat look when you hand the bottle back to him and you send him back a cheesy grin, slouching on the edge of the bed.

“Can you at least carry me to the bathroom? It’s the least you can do after making me take care of your drunk ass tonight.” You pout to make him feel guilty.

“I was not that drunk!” He retorts, standing up anyway to round the bed and lift you up bridal style.

“You proposed to me again!” You laugh, wrapping your hands around his neck. “How could you forget our wedding? The ‘happiest day of your life’?”

“I just love you so much that I want to get married to you all over again.” Finding his answer satisfactory, you squint your eyes at him so he can’t tell that you’re getting shy, but he knows you too well and smiles widely at his success of winning you over again. Your feet find the tile of the bathroom and it’s silent as you both swiftly clean yourselves up enough for bed, your cheeks still burning from his words.

“Well I love you too, goofball.” You whisper when you’re both finally tucked in the warmth and safety of your sheets.

A/N: Thanks for reading and thank you to everyone that has been patiently waiting for me over the last year! Also, let me know I if the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost line was offensive and I’ll change it. I wrote that when I was really tired and found it too funny to delete 😂

#jimin smut #bts smut #ksmutclub #clubjimin #idek how to tag things anymore

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https-sonshine · 2 years

Note

Hii could you please write an imagine about a first date with Sonny? Like he's super nervous cause he really cares about you and wants to impress you and you think it's super cute but everything ends up going okay and you have lots of fun together 🥰

authors note: heyy, tysmm for your request. i also wanted to thank you for the support you've shown to my blog <3 i cant lie I'm not sure how I feel about this one but ik I'm overcritical of my own work but I really hope you enjoy this one.

word count: approx 1.4k words

warnings: none, pure fluff

_____________________________________

You may have been reserved around him, but your natural sense of humour and willingness to let loose won his heart over every time. When you smiled at him, he felt butterflies fluttering around his stomach. He hadn't known if you felt the same way about him until he finally asked you out, and you said yes. He remembered every detail of that day all too vividly.

"We should probably go out sometime or something".

"As in a date?" you raised your brows.

His shoulders shrugged, but the flush on his cheeks said everything.

"Okay, why not" you replied, causing the boy to smile shyly

Now he was busy trying to decide where he would take you. He wanted it to be special and intimate. He wanted it just to be the two of you where you could enjoy each other's company. The location needed to be one where he wouldn't be easily spotted. Because he didn't want his fans or the media to have a field day, he was racking his brain for ideas when one suddenly hit him.

Eventually, the day arrived, and Sonny picked you up, being careful to keep you relaxed and comfortable the entire time. He helped you into the car, where you saw a bouquet of roses waiting for you on the passenger seat. You quickly thank him, earning a sheepish smile in return. At the start of the drive, you don't talk much. You're adjusting to the new atmosphere of being in each other's presence with friendship far from your minds.

"So, do you like your job at Spurs?" he breaks the silence.

"Yeah, it's nice, i’m grateful for the experience," you reply, and he smiles again. You see that he is nervously fumbling with his fingers. The urge to take his hand in yours is strong, but you hold back, not wanting to seem too forward. Unable to resist the urge, you reach over and take Son's hand, and he looks at both of our hands and smiles.

Once you both loosen up, the conversation starts flowing; about music, places you want to visit, places you've been, pets, mutual friends, and your loved ones.

Finally, arriving at your destination. You both started walking, but confusion masked your features as you didn't know what Sonny had planned. He then looks up at you and says, "It's a surprise!" and starts walking faster, full of excitement. After a while of walking, you could hear the grass crinkle beneath your feet. You wondered if Sonny planned a picnic or a night out under the stars. As you looked up into the sky, you saw a bright, colourful object slowly floating in the distance. It was a hot air balloon. You felt your heart beat faster as you watched it gracefully move across the sky. The sun's rays shone down on the balloon, making it glow; you were mesmerised by sight.

"Son, this is… I don't even know what to say."

"I went a little bit overboard. Isn't I wasn't sure what type of date you would enjoy. Is it too much?" He rubs the back of his neck nervously and turns away from you. You place a kiss on his cheek and shake your head at him.

"I like it. It's different. It's perfect."

His face lit up, holding more excitement than I had expected.

With a big grin, he said, "Let's make it happen!" His energy was contagious, and I couldn't help but feel excited about what was to come.

"Watch your step, y/n," Son warned as He guided your hand onto a rail. The fabric reminded me of woven straw. You felt the ground suddenly shift beneath your feet. You stumbled backwards slightly, but Son helped you regain your balance. He wrapped his arms around your waist.

Even after you regained your balance, Son continued to hold you. As you peered over his shoulder, it dawned on you that you were floating through the air in a hot air balloon. Your brown eyes widened and were filled with awe. You broke away from Son's arms and ran to the edge of the basket to admire the view. His expression relaxed as a smile spread across your face. You leaned out of the basket slightly to see the landscape below. Still not believing that he had booked the balloon ride.

In between sips of wine and delicious food, you talk about anything and everything that comes to mind. You spend most of the night laughing and telling stories to one another. You can't get enough of his smile, and you feel like you would do or say anything to keep that smile on his face.

You stand to take another look at the scenery but instead stumble onto his lap.

You look into his eyes, and for a second, you forget about the world around you. You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings, especially how your back was pressed up against the body behind you. His hands gripped your arms, and you noticed the little beauty mark on his right eye as you looked up before slowly sliding out of his grasp.

"Maybe we shouldn't move too much ?" You suggested as you walked over to collect a glass of wine, handing it back to him sheepishly. You saw the smile on his face and watched as his nose scrunched and he started to laugh. You could feel your ears and cheeks flush with embarrassment. Still, you couldn't help but think his laugh was incredibly attractive, and the more you thought about it, the more you could feel yourself becoming drawn to him. Light laughter filled the balloon, and you couldn't help but join in, the two of you standing there, smiling and giggling like a pair of schoolchildren.

"You know your laugh is probably the most precious thing I have ever heard ?" He blushes and looks away from you.

You were relieved that you agreed to go out with Sonny. His proposal is still fresh in your mind.

You saw his normally soft features contort into expressions of what could only be described as nerves. Heung Min, Son.

A man who shines brighter than the sun. A man with a smile that could light up a room and make anyone feel instantly at ease. Yet, concern had replaced his usual expression on this day.

"We should probably go out sometime or something." His eyes barely held onto yours, his anxious state causing him to look down at his feet.

"As in a date?"

He shrugged it off, but the flush in his cheeks said it all.

You were deep in thought when he interrupted to confess., "I've liked you for a while — kind of struggling to believe that you actually said yes." He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and smiled nervously at her.

"Did you really think I wouldn't? You smiled, and the flush on his cheeks deepened.

His eyes widened as he admitted, "I was terrified." To be honest, I'm surprised I was able to ask you out at all."

"I'm glad you did. His face broke out in a relieved smile, and he looked away, embarrassed by his own admission.

"Look at that view. It's beautiful," you said, leaning over the hot air balloon.

The sun is slowly setting, painting the sky in a spectrum of pastel colours. As the balloon rises higher and higher, a gentle breeze teases the colourful fabric of the balloon. In the basket below, you can feel the warmth of the hot air as it pushes the balloon higher and higher. The air is filled with the smell of burning fuel and the sound of the balloon's burner filling the balloon with hot air. You can feel the excitement of being so high above the ground, with nothing but the wide open sky above. As you reach the highest point of the journey, you can look down to see the ground below, the houses, the trees, and the roads, all looking small from such a great height. The feeling of freedom is overwhelming, and you can't help but smile as you savour this moment. He followed your gaze, allowing himself to enjoy the beautiful scenery for a moment.

He wishes he could capture this moment forever. The free smile on your face as you take in the view. The way the wind played through your dark hair, and Son couldn't help but feel envious of a simple breeze. Sonny moved to stand behind you. He straightened your hair and tucked the stray pieces behind your ear.

"So beautiful," Sonny thought, watching the strands of your hair lightly fall back into place.

#son heung min #son heung min fanfic #son heung min imagines #son heung min x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #https sonshineasks #son heung min one shot #heung min son

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lyon-amore · 1 month

Text

I'm obsessed with this AU, don't let anyone ever get it out of my head

We had left the blinds down and the curtain drawn so that not a ray of sunlight could come through the window. We want to spend the morning in the room after the wonderful night.

A night that I remember in detail and that my body has reacted to as if it were the first time. We fit together perfectly and Jake treated me very kindly, but I could tell that he knew what he had to do, just like me. But I didn't care, I didn't get jealous or sad. Especially when he asked me if it was what I wanted. I think I sounded desperate saying yes, because within a second we were already in bed.

As we kiss, Jake’s fingers work me gently, causing me to let out small moans. Just as I pull away to tell him I’m ready, there’s a knock at the door. I let out a groan, annoyed.

“It will be Lian…” I answer, while trying to breathe calmly.

"Did not you stay at that guy's house last night?" Jake asks me, and I can hear a little annoyance in his voice, also at the interruption.

“But I told her that she forgot her bag at the bar and she replied that she would come and get it in the morning,” I slowly sit up, and he does the same.

I get out of bed and the first thing I grab to get dressed is his shirt. It's too big for me, so I don't worry about putting anything else on.

“I’ll be right back.” I lean in to kiss him and he pulls me closer, making it harder for me to want to leave. She knocks on the door again and I laugh. “She’s going to kill us if I don’t give it back to her.”

“Pretend we are not here,” he answers, caressing my cheek while continuing to kiss me.

“I'll open the door, give her the bag and close it,” I move away and slowly let go of his hand, “while... you watch warming up until I get back.”

"I cannot if it is not with you," he answers me with shining eyes.

I let out a little lovestruck giggle and walk further away to my bedroom door. I really can't believe how lucky I was to meet him.

I grab the small bag from the counter in the entryway and open the door. To my surprise, it's not Lian.

“Hello, honey,” my mother greets me and I see my father next to her.

“Did you stay up all night?” my father asks me, arching an eyebrow.

I stare at them, shocked. Great, my parents come over and I have my boyfriend in my room with no pants on.

<<Oh shit… our pants…>>

I remember the details of what we did, but not the fact that the pants and underwear were left in the living room.

“Yes… I fell asleep a lot, a lot,” my brain is not working right now because I was thinking about going back to Jake. I need to get into strategist mode now! If my father finds out, he’ll kill him!

My mother knows I'm dating a guy, but I haven't told my father yet because I wanted to see how the relationship progressed… And now that I think about it, it's come a long way for it to have been five days.

“Wow, Star Wars?” My mother touches the shirt and I stop myself from getting nervous by trying to get it completely smooth.

“I didn’t know you liked Star Wars…” my father puts his hands in his pants, examining me. “And it’s pretty big for you…”

“I bought it because I needed a new nightgown,” I lean on the door frame, still not letting them in. “What are you doing here? And without warning?”

“But yesterday we talked about coming to look for you and go see your family, remember?” My father examines me again, not as a father, but as a police officer. Something I don't like.

I cover my neck a little with my hair, in case there are any marks.

In the end I step aside and let them pass.

“We'll wait for you to get ready.” They come in and I see my father going straight to the couch.

“No!” I shout nervously and they look at me surprised “Better... better on the chairs, it's just that last night I spilled the milk from dinner and it's disgusting and dirty, I have to clean them.”

I quickly walk over and pick up the clothes to put them under the couch cushions, pretending to straighten them out. Although I do actually have to wash them after last night.

"Do you want me to take off the covers and wash them?" my mother asks me.

“No, I'll do it when I get back,” I stand up and point in the direction of my room. “I'm going to… shower and get dressed… that's it…”

I run out, holding my shirt. This can't be happening today...

When I walk in, Jake looks at me worried.

“What happened?” He gets out of bed and approaches me “Are you okay?”

"We have a big problem," I whisper, nervously.

“Lian and that boy had a fight?” he whispers too, imitating my attitude.

“Worse, my parents are here and your pants are keeping them company!”

I see how he turns pale. He knows that my father still doesn't know about us because of the issue of taking things slow in our relationship. Because he met my last boyfriend and he didn't like him even though he was Stephan's friend. It is true that perhaps he was too "affectionate" with me in front of him. Making him uncomfortable. So I wanted to prepare him for the moment when he meets Jake and sees that he's not like Klaus, that he behaves in public and the only thing we usually do is hold hands and caress each other. Wanting to have that intimate contact only in public. Not like a certain person who put his hand on my thigh in front of my father. And very high up…

“Okay, let us think calmly,” he places his hands on my shoulders and caresses me in circles with his thumbs, “What did you tell them?”

“I was going to take a shower and get dressed…” I answer pointing to the door, the bathroom is next to my room.

“Well, that's what you'll do,” I nod as he speaks, “don't worry, I won't leave here, so they won't know—”

The door opens and I turn quickly, luckily blocking Jake's body.

“By the waAAAAAAH…” my mother screams and brings her hand to her mouth, surprised.

I feel Jake's hands tense on my shoulders, and I'm still keeping my shirt controlled to make sure it doesn't ride up because of that turn.

“What's going on?!” my father shouts and comes in.

I cover my face in shame, and not just because of that. It's just that Jake has stuck to me so much out of fear that I can feel his ENTIRE body against mine and my mind is mixing thoughts of this morning with thoughts of wanting to bury my head in the floor.

“You…” I look at my father, who points almost accusingly at Jake, “Macie, what are you doing with this guy?”

Part of me is surprised that I seem to know him, and worse, I don't seem to like him all that much.

“Dad, I…”

I see him looking at me with disappointment. It's the second time I've seen that look.

We keep in silence in the room, and I bring my hand to my mouth to bite my nails, nervous.

"My name is Jake Miller," I hear Jake finally say, "I would go say hello to you, Mr. Connors, but I cannot—"

“Oh my God…” my father pinches the bridge of his nose, while my mother brings her hand to her mouth, watching him hide an amused smile, avoiding looking at us too much.

“Listen, if Macie did not tell you, it was because she wanted us to take our relationship slowly so she could introduce me to her parents properly.”

“And is there a reason you're not wearing any clothes?” It's clearly not a question that he doesn't know what happened, but rather he wants to know why he's not dressed if he knows they were here.

“Well… this…”

“The pants are on the couch…” I answer, closing my eyes tightly.

I hear my father breathe almost angrily and I open one eye seeing him trying to calm down.

“Honey, breathe,” my mother tells him, patting him on the chest, “your daughter is already an adult, don't exaggerate and act like a police officer.”

“I know, I know,” he raises his hand, trying to relax, “I'll go outside and… let… them dress…”

We nod and when my parents leave, Jake sits up in bed, breathing heavily and putting his hands on his head.

“I'll go get your clothes and you can take a shower...” I tell him, stroking his hair.

He nods and surprises me by hugging me, resting his head on my body. I smile and give him a kiss on the top of his head.

"I will fix it," he says, looking up.

“You have nothing to fix, he's exaggerating,” I give him a small kiss and separate. “I'll be back with your clothes in a moment.”

“Alright…”

I can see him thinking, with that pose of his hand on his chin. What is he up to?

Once we were showered and dressed —Jake let me first, it wasn't the time to share a shower—, we sat with my parents in the chairs. Jake also knows that going to the couch is not a good idea.

“How long have you been dating?” My father places his hands on the table, as if he were being questioned.

“Dad…” I take a breath trying to relax, I don't want to fight with him.

"Five days, sir," Jake replied calmly, looking at him somewhat nervously.

“Five…” Dad puts his hand on his chest and I roll my eyes “Days?”

I glance at Jake discreetly, noticing that his serious expression hasn't changed. Unlike me, who just wants my father to stop exaggerating, I'm not a little girl.

“Studies? Work? Criminal record?” My father's aggressive way of asking appears and I put my hands on my head, even more embarrassed.

“Herman! Please!” my mother shouts at him, offended as if he were the one asking her “Leave the boy alone—”

“Classical language and literature,” I slowly look at Jake as he begins to speak, “I have a job, I am in charge of computer security and you know better than anyone that I have no criminal record,” my gaze moves from one to the other, they look at each other defiantly.

Oh well, defiantly my father, Jake doesn’t even seem offended or angry by his questions. I’m going to intervene, but Jake continues.

“We may have only been together for five days, but I can assure you that your daughter is the most amazing and fascinating woman I have ever met,” My cheeks burn as I listen to him and see that his expression hasn’t changed yet. He doesn't even blush. He means it completely. He dares to speak to my father like that and he doesn't move even a bit.

I see my mother smile sweetly and then look at my father, so that he understands the situation we are in. I'm actually surprised, but I could say that I've felt the same way for a long time. Longer than he imagines, but I kept it to myself. I take Jake's hand and he looks at me, smiling. Only five days, but... It feels like an eternity. I don't want to be apart from him... Ever. I may sound strange, but I want to be able to be with him always. If he allows me.

My father sighs and taps his fingers on the table. His gaze still doesn't seem entirely convinced.

“Very nice words, Miller, but knowing who you are, I'll be keeping a close eye on you and if you hurt my daughter, I'll arrest you without a second thought.”

"I have no plans to harm your daughter," he squeezes my hand affectionately, interlacing our fingers. "You have my word that I will always take care of her."

I blink, even more surprised than before. Isn't this going faster than it already was? It's then that I see Jake realize what he said and get nervous, his cheeks also turn red.

“I mean… As a boyfriend, of course, I am not asking for your daughter's hand, sir.”

“And would it be so bad if you did? Would it be bad to marry her?” Dad's question makes him open and close his mouth several times.

Now I'm the one squeezing his hand, to calm him down.

"It's not that, dad," I answered, trying to save the situation, "we're just dating, and we don't even think about those things with how little time we have."

"Well, from the way he spoke, he seemed very sure," my mother lets out a small laugh, looking at both of us.

We both looked at each other shyly, but smiled. I really wanted to know what he must be thinking.

My parents finally leave my apartment, waiting for me on the street to give us privacy to say goodbye. I take the covers off the couch and drop them in the laundry bin, while I hear Jake washing the coffee cups. I told him it wasn't necessary, but he insisted. Sometimes I think he’s not real. How can he be so attentive?

By the time we're done, I've already grabbed my jacket and bag and he's put his jacket on as well, leading us to the door.

“Jake, I'm sorry about what happened with my father,” I apologize while playing with the keys in my hands, trying to calm myself down, "well, because of him and what happened, I really didn't want this to happen—"

“Macie, calm down,” he takes my hands, trying to calm me down. He looks me in the eyes and smiles. “At least, since I met you, I am not getting bored,” He caresses the back of my hands with his thumbs. Little by little I relax, “with you every day is always something new and that is what I like about having met you.”

I sigh and stand on my toes, pulling him towards me. Our lips meet and he places his hands on my back, holding me close to him. I wrap my arms around his neck, still smiling. I get a text and we laugh, knowing it must be my dad waiting for me.

"Today was like being in a romantic comedy movie," he laughs, amused.

"Something we never expect to happen again," I wipe his lips with my thumb, I have painted them with my lipstick.

He grabs my wrist and kisses my thumb. Should I really go? I'd spend the whole weekend with him.

I hand Lian's bag to a neighbor and together with Jake, we walk away holding hands. I notice how he caresses me carefully, I like this type of contact, feeling his skin this way, so delicate. My parents' car is waiting right at the exit and I look at Jake with an apologetic look on my face.

"Try to behave yourself, don't let my father find out what you've done and arrest you," I joked as I fixed his jacket.

"You know I behave well, I would never do anything that would get me into trouble," he fixes my hair, placing it behind my ears.

And he does something that surprises me, as I had said, the only contact we have in public is holding hands so as not to make anyone uncomfortable, so his little kiss on my lips leaves me speechless.

"And this?" I whisper, with a malicious smile. "You didn't do it to make my father angry, did you?" I glance furtively at the car.

“Actually, it is because I have been thinking about how much I am going to miss you.”

I laugh and gently brush his bangs aside lovingly.

“Exaggerated… We can see each other tomorrow.”

“I do not exaggerate when I like something, Macie Connors.”

<<Yes, I'm going to tell them off for coming to my house and separating me from this amazing man for a day.>>

But I may be exaggerating a bit, given that even though my parents live in the same city as me, because of my studies, I hardly see them and I see my friends more —and now, my boyfriend— than them.

"Well, show me tomorrow, Jake Miller," I tap him on the nose, causing him to sigh.

I walk away from him and wave goodbye, still smiling. He does the same and stays there watching us drive away, watching how he slowly disappears from my sight.

"That boy seems to love you a lot," my mother comments, while I continue to look like a lovesick fool.

"Yes, it seems so," I answer with a sigh.

I try to think positively and that our future will be perfect. I would be afraid of losing him after having found him.

Because what I feel is too strong. And I hope he feels the same way.

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